by R M Scotford
A Grey Day
Dark clouds swirled irritably around the restless sky. The sun was fighting a losing battle and was slowly being extinguished by the fat rain clouds sitting ominously on the horizon. The whole world was in a grey mood. Douggie and Maggie watched as an endless supply of dreary adults wandered miserably through the maze of dull, featureless government buildings.
“Which one is the police station?” Maggie asked.
“It’s that one over there, next to the big grey one.” Douggie pointed over to a row of grey buildings.
“They’re all grey.” She sighed, “Do you think they’ll believe us? I mean, do you think they’ll do anything?”
“If they don’t believe us then we’re going to have to worry about a lot more than just the rain,” he said.
Secretly, he thought there would be no chance their story would be believed. He wanted the gang to deal with the Kiddy-Care problem themselves. But going to the police was something that had to be done before they could go to the next level.
“Let’s go, before it starts to chuck it down with rain.”
He pulled Maggie by the hand.
“Remember, let me do the talking, I’m the only one who watched the video more than once. I know what to say. Don’t worry; it’ll be ok.”
The police station wasn’t designed for small people. The wooden reception counter towered above them and Douggie could only just reach the service bell. He gave it a tentative ding. A long time passed, and they waited apprehensively for someone to arrive. They gazed at the myriad of posters covering the walls. Big black words jumped out at them like hellish bats:
WANTED—ROBBERY—MISSING—MURDER
They moved closer to each other and squeezed each other’s hands reassuringly. Suddenly, Douggie noticed a familiar face on one of the police posters.
“Look. That’s Brigitte, the K-BOT we saw being fixed in the video. They must already know,” he whispered.
He ripped off the poster and read it.
He held the piece of paper tightly in his hand. Maybe the police would believe their story after all. The children waited still longer.
“Hit the bell again Douggie, but this time hit it harder, I don’t think they heard,” Maggie said, quietly.
“Why are you whispering?” Douggie whispered back.
“I don’t know—because you are, you started it.”
She pointed furiously to the bell.
“Hit the bell, but this time hit it harder.”
He reached up onto his tiptoes and gave the bell a resounding whack.
The sound resonated around the cold reception area and the children trembled. The loud ring brought an instant response and a huge, burly policemen with an impossibly thick moustache and a nose that looked like an over ripe strawberry shuffled into the reception area. He glanced around the room but the two children were hidden from his view behind the large counter.
“YES?” he bellowed in his best sergeant major voice.
The children shook with fear. He may as well have been a giant. Douggie plucked up all the courage he had.
“Excuse me, sir. We need to tell you something; we have some information for you.”
The policemen brought his attention down to the children, resting his chunky arms on the counter and giving them a big, yellow, toothy grin.
“What is it, laddy? Has someone stolen your bike?”
“Erm, no — not exactly.”
Douggie rubbed his clammy palms together. Did he have to explain everything here, now, in this room, to this man? This wasn’t how he’d imagined it.
“So,” the policeman boomed, “Did you lose your bike?”
“Erh, no. NO. I didn’t lose my bike—I think I need to talk to a—a detective.”
Douggie smiled, he was pleased with his reply. He couldn’t explain it here. He needed to talk to a detective just like they did on the TV; a detective in a private room at the back of the police station.
“I’m sorry laddy, that won’t be possible. A detective is not going to be interested in your bike. You’re gonna have to make a report here at the front desk.”
Douggie looked up at the policeman’s gnarly old face in confusion.
“But—I haven’t got a bike.”
“You haven’t got a BIKE?” the policeman boomed. “Then why are you talking about bikes?”
Maggie piped up,
“He didn’t. That was you. You started talking about bikes.” She pointed sharply at the policemen.
The policemen scratched his wiry, black hair and chuckled,
“Well, well, you’re a fiery little madam aren’t you? So what is it you want missy? I haven’t got all day.”
Douggie gasped in frustration.
“We need to see a detective. It’s important.”
The policeman looked at Douggie sternly.
“I’ll be the judge of what’s important and what’s not, laddy. Now come on, out with it, you’re testing my patience.”
Douggie looked across at Maggie for reassurance but she looked back at him blankly. This was worse than he could have possibly imagined. He took a deep breath and began,
“Well, you see it’s like this—do you know the Kiddy-Care Centre?”
After Douggie had finished the policeman stared out with glazed eyes,
“I think you need to see a detective. If what you say is true then this is serious stuff.”
Douggie rolled his eyes and smiled with satisfaction and relief.
“Thank you.”
The two children were shown into a large room at the back of the station. Everything began to feel very serious and the detective that they had to speak to didn’t look at all friendly. He had sharp blue eyes and dark blonde, greased back hair. He looked like a mean science teacher, the kind of teacher whose class was never funny and always much too difficult. Shyly the children introduced themselves. Chief Inspector Dent tapped his pen on the table.
“Sorry, what were your names again?” He gave each child a concerned look. “Do I know your parents? Have we met before?”
The children shook their heads in unison as they introduced themselves again.
“I’m Maggie Chase; I’m ten.”
“Erh, and I’m Douggie Harrison, I’m also ten, we’re both ten.”
Dent rolled the names around in his mind. They seemed so familiar. He gazed out of his window wistfully.
“Excuse me sir, but —” Douggie snapped Dent out of his daydream.
“Oh, yes,” Dent replied. “Constable Beard said you had an interesting story to tell me.”
He paused for a second and made himself more comfortable in his chair.
“Well go on then, I haven’t got all day.” Dent put his pen in his mouth and began to chew on the end.
“It’s a strange story but you have to believe us, because it’s all true.”
Dent rolled his eyes and pointed the soggy pen end at Douggie,
“Get on with it, boy. I’m a busy man.”
Douggie took a big gulp. Now was the time to tell the story; he couldn’t miss out anything.
“I have a brother who goes to the Kiddy-Care Centre. Everyday I have to pick him up after class. The other day I had to collect his PowerMan DVD from the centre, but instead of taking home Stanley’s video I brought home a DVD that wasn’t mine. On this disc was a man, who is the husband of the owner of the Kiddy-Care Centre, you know her, fat old Hobbs.”
Dent shook his head. It was bad enough listening to the wild stories that Inspector Hatchet made up about that ridiculous Kiddy-Care place. As Douggie continued to explain about the Hobbs’ evil plan to take over the world, Dent grew more and more impatient until he finally put a stop to it.
“I’m sorry kids,” he got up from his chair, “I don’t have any more time to listen to this.”
The children looked up at Dent pathetically.
“You’re not going to listen to the full story?” Maggie said in disbelief.
“Nope,” Den
t shook his head. “I’ve heard quite enough, disappearing nursery teachers that aren’t human. An army of exploding robots waiting to take over the world...? That’s quite enough for me.”
“So are you going to do anything about it?” Maggie demanded.
Dent turned his full attention to Maggie.
“Young lady, what would you have me do about it? Arrest Mrs. Hobbs because a group of nine-year-olds think that she wants to take over the world.”
Dent chuckled.
Maggie glared at Chief Inspector Dent with her burning green eyes. She had a good mind to zap him with a bolt of brain energy but thought better of it so she screamed at him instead,
“TEN!”
Dent looked at her with a mix of shock and surprise,
“I’m sorry—ten? Ten what?”
“TEN! TEN YEARS, STUPID. We’re not nine. We’re TEN.”
That was enough for Dent. He wasn’t going to stand for any more nonsense from these brats, and he ushered them out of his office. Once the children had left the police station Dent yelled out,
“Constable Beard, you half- wit! GET IN HERE! Why are you wasting my time with such absurd, childish stories?”
The children stood outside the police station on the cold, grey street as the rain pitter-pattered down on them.
“Well, that’s it,” Douggie said chirpily.
“That’s what?” Maggie looked at Douggie in shock. “Why are you so happy? This is no time to be happy; the police aren’t going to do anything,” she complained.
“Don’t you see? The police were never going to believe us. Without the video we have no proof, why would they believe a bunch of kids anyway?”
“But what’ll happen now? What will happen to all the little kids that attend the Kiddy-Care centres?” she frowned, obviously very concerned.
Douggie smiled and rubbed his hands together confidently.
“It’s ok, don’t worry. I have the plan of all plans.”
The Plan
The annual Kiddy-Care Conference was only four days away, and if the robotic nannies received the final detonation software as planned, it would be a worldwide catastrophe. Douggie called an urgent gang meeting. The children sat on the grass next to the destroyed warehouse staring up at Douggie and waiting for him to speak.
“Ok — thanks to everyone for coming,” Douggie smiled. “Unfortunately, Maximus can’t attend as he’s been grounded for a whole year.”
Everyone erupted into laughter, then Jimmy exclaimed,
“No plan is gonna work without Maxi-muff, he’s got all the gadgets and kit,” and they stopped laughing.
“Don’t worry about Maxi-Boy,” Douggie reassured them. “He’s in. He knows what he has to do to make the plan work. Whether he’s grounded or not, doesn’t matter.”
“What plan?” Kimiko sounded unsure. “What exactly are you talking about Douggie?” She rested her hands on her crossed legs and looked up at him with her big, black eyes.
“As you guys know the Kiddy-Care Corporation plans to blackmail the whole world with its army of exploding nursery teachers. But no one will believe us now the disc has melted. We have no proo —”
Jimmy interrupted,
“So did you guys go to the police?”
“Yes, we did.” Douggie glanced at Maggie for support, who nodded profusely. He continued, “We went to the police, they were having none of it. Now—” pausing to gather his thoughts, he realised he didn’t want to waste the opportunity he had. Everyone was listening.
“If we were just normal kids, we’d have a big problem on our hands, but we’re not normal kids are we?” He glanced at the incredibly normal-looking kids in front of him.
“We have special powers; all of us have unique abilities. Together we can overcome anything. It’s like — it’s our — destiny.” He turned to each of them one by one. He knew Maggie was in and wanted to help. Now he needed to convince the others. Kimiko nodded.
“I want to help, for sure,” she said, “but you have to tell me the plan.”
Douggie clenched his fist with satisfaction.
“Great Kimiko, I’ll tell you the plan in a minute. First I need to know if everyone’s in.” He stared at Abu. “What about it, Abu? Are you up to being a superhero?”
Abu rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. He’d remembered nothing about the fight he’d had with Maximus or his opposition to Douggie’s idea. In fact, he couldn’t even remember watching the video about the Kiddy-Care Centre.
“Urm,” he said, “I’ve—forgotten what the video was about.” Abu gulped and looked down at the floor.
“That’s ok, Abu. I’ll fill you in when I tell everyone the plan, but first I have to know, are you prepared to help one hundred percent? If not then you’ll have to leave, and that goes for you too, Jimmy.”
Jimmy nervously stared at the other children. When his eyes met Maggie’s, she fixed him with a steely, green glare. Jimmy knew full well what Maggie meant. Earlier, she’d told Jimmy to convince Abu to help; otherwise, he’d be out of the gang. The last thing Jimmy wanted was to get thrown out.
“Let’s do it, Abu,” Jimmy insisted. “It’ll be fun.”
Abu looked at Jimmy suspiciously.
“Ok then, but I know I’m gonna regret this.”
Douggie stepped forward and patted Abu on the shoulder.
“It’s a great plan, Abu. This is gonna be a great adventure.”
Abu rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue again.
“Yeah, whatever, Douggie. Get on with it.”
“It’s simple,” said Douggie. “We just need to stop the K-BOTS from receiving the detonation software. If they don’t get it,” he held out his hands, “no explosion. Simple.”
The others looked at each other, confused. It couldn’t be that simple!
After reminding Abu about the contents of the video, Douggie went through each person’s role. Everyone listened open-mouthed.
“Maggie, it’s essential that you get walkie-talkies like we discussed. Abu and Jimmy, you’re gonna be team one, Kimi and Maggie will be team two, and Maximus and I will be team three. I’ll be on the stage waiting to swap the detonation software at the last minute for the deactivation software that Maximus will write.” Abu raised up his hand.
“How can Maximus write a deactivation program if he’s never had access to the robot’s software?”
Douggie nodded his head with approval.
“A very good point, Abu, I’m glad you’re paying attention. Which brings me round to the first phase of the plan. We need to temporarily steal the scientist’s laptop.”
“Steal the laptop?” Maggie cried. “You never mentioned any of this to me!”
“Relax, relax. We won’t actually steal it. We’ll just look at it for a short while. Take what info we need and return it.”
Kimiko raised her hand.
“Yes, what is it Kimi?” Douggie asked.
“Well — if we steal the laptop from the scientist guy then why don’t we just keep it? Or throw it in a lake or something. Then he wouldn’t be able to make the nursery teachers into bombs, and all the children will be saved. Simple.” Kimiko smiled at the others, pleased with her idea. Douggie rubbed his hands through his stubby dreadlocks.
“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. If we just steal the laptop, then the scientist guy and his crazy wife will know we’re on to them. Plus, they’ll just write another program. It will only delay their deadly plan; it won’t stop it. So, it’s important that we do two things. Firstly, we download all the software off the laptop without anyone knowing. Then, secondly, we change the software over at the very last opportunity at the Kiddy-Care Convention. The scientist will think he’s uploading the deadly software when really he’ll be loading Maximus’ new software. Instead of the K-BOTS turning into deadly weapons that could threaten the lives of thousands of children, Maximus’ software will turn them off for good after twenty-four hours. The evil Kiddy-Care Empire will think it�
�s got 10,000 exploding nannies, but what it will really have are 10,000 robots that are switched off and good for nothing but the scrap heap.”
Abu shook his head vigorously.
“Douggie, gate-crashing the Kiddy-Care Convention is going to be difficult enough, but stealing the laptop? The guy probably sleeps with it. It’s true we have special powers, but last time I looked, none of us were expert thieves. We’re just kids.”
“Exactly right Abu, we’re all just kids. We’ll use this to our advantage.” Douggie’s eyes flickered with excitement.
“But how?” exclaimed Kimiko.
“It’s simple all we need to do is —”
What’s a Woggle?
Abu looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn shorts. His skinny brown legs and knobbly-knees looked like a couple of Twiglets.
“Man, this is never gonna work. I look like a total dork.” he moaned.
“You look great, Abu. In fact, we both look great.” Douggie adjusted his neckerchief in the mirror. Behind them, Maggie and Kimiko walked into the room.
“Well look at you two guys,” Maggie sniggered.
Kimiko looked the two boys up and down seriously.
“I’m sorry boys; you’ll never pass.”
“What?” cried Douggie.
“You see, I told you so, we look like a couple of chumps.” Abu shoved Douggie hard in the back.
“It’ll be fine. These are great outfits,” Douggie said, trying to reassure everyone.
“Well, you don’t look like Cub Scouts to me,” Kimiko insisted.
“I mean, where are your caps? You don’t have proper badges. Look, you don’t even have woggles.”
Douggie examined the scrawny, red elastic band holding his neckerchief together.
“Ok, so we don’t look like the Cub Of The Year, but it doesn’t matter. It’s just a diversion.”
“Douggie’s right, Kimiko. It doesn’t matter,” Maggie added. “As long as we can get in, then it’ll be fine.”
“Wha, wha, what are woggles?” Abu asked inquisitively.
“It doesn’t matter, Abu. You won’t need a woggle; you’ll be fine.” Douggie patted him on the back.
