Paul Jenning's Weirdest Stories

by Paul Jennings

  The lift seemed to take ages but at last I reached the fifteenth floor. Our flat was number twenty. I banged on the door until Mum finally opened it. ‘What’s the rush?’ she asked.

  ‘The hammer,’ I panted. ‘Where’s the hammer?’

  ‘Under the sink,’ answered Mum.

  Without another word I went into the kitchen and grabbed our claw-hammer. ‘Be back soon,’ I yelled. I headed back towards the cow shed as fast as I could go.

  There was no sign of Gravel back at the shed. Inside, Jingle Bells was still mooing with long, sad moos and straining to reach the little shaft of sunshine. ‘Don’t worry old girl,’ I said. ‘You’re in for a big treat.’

  I clambered up onto the top of the shed and started pulling out nails with the claw-hammer. It was hard work but after about half an hour I had most of the nails out of one sheet of roofing iron.

  There was still no sign of Gravel.

  At last it was done. I had freed one large sheet of corrugated iron. I ripped it off the roof and threw it into the small garden. Sunshine poured into the shed. Buckets of it. Bathloads of it. A huge waterfall of light. Pouring, streaming, warming. Flooding down into the shed. It smothered Jingle Bells in its glorious flow. She raised her head and gave six, short happy moos. And then another six, and another and another. For the first time in her life she felt the life-giving gift of a warm sun.

  I lay there on the roof for maybe an hour. Maybe two. I couldn’t say how long for sure. I gazed down at Jingle Bells as she sunned herself. She settled onto the floor in the sun, chewing her cud. She was probably pretending that she was grazing in a grassy glen. I could see that she was happy.

  And then, just as Jingle Bells’ patch of sunlight started to climb the walls, I felt an iron grip on my ankle. I felt myself being yanked backwards. My stomach scratched on the hot roof. My nose bumped along the corrugations. ‘Help,’ I screamed. ‘Stop. Stop.’ Someone was pulling me off the roof from below. I tried to hang on with my fingers but there was nothing to grab onto.

  Suddenly I found myself in mid-air. I seemed to hang there for a second or two and then I plunged downwards. I crashed painfully onto the gravel beneath. The wind was knocked from my lungs and I couldn’t breathe.

  But I could see. And I didn’t like what I saw. Gravel was staring down at me with a wild look on his face. His big red nose was lumpy. His false teeth seemed to have a life of their own. They clacked and jumped out of time as he shouted at me. ‘You vandal. You, you, brat. What do you mean by wrecking my shed?’

  ‘It’s Jingle Bells,’ I managed to gasp. ‘I’m letting in the sun.’

  He just stood there for a second or two with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. ‘You’ve pulled the roof off my shed for a cow? For a rotten old cow that doesn’t even give any milk?’

  ‘It’s cruel,’ I yelled. ‘It’s cruel keeping Jingle Bells in the dark.’

  ‘I’ll show you what’s cruel,’ he shrieked. He picked up a piece of old rope and started lashing at my legs with it. I wriggled out of his way and climbed up over the fence before he could grab me again. I started to run down the lane. Behind me I heard Gravel’s last mean words. ‘The cow won’t want sunshine for much longer. Tomorrow it goes to the knackery.’ His voice was raised in a high-pitched laugh.

  4

  The knackery. The glue factory. He was going to have Jingle Bells killed. And all because of me. It was my fault. I started to cry as I walked home. Salty tears trickled down my face and into my mouth.

  I had to save Jingle Bells.

  That evening I made my plans. I looked out of my bedroom window at the night lights of the city. The oil refinery was lit up like fairyland. Closer to us I could see the West Gate Bridge arching over the Yarra River. The gate to freedom. The road to the country.

  I set my clock radio for midnight. That would give me plenty of time to get Jingle Bells through the city and over the West Gate Bridge. We could get away from the main roads before the traffic started.

  I reached out to switch off the light. That’s when I noticed that my cut finger was better. There was no sign of the cut at all. It was completely healed.

  I was soon asleep. Tossing and turning. And dreaming of a ghostly cow calling, calling, calling to me through the fog.

  That night there was a power failure. While I was asleep the lights of the city went out. And my clock radio went off.

  Mum woke me at the usual time – seven-thirty. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘you’ll be late for school.’

  I looked at the window. Sun was pouring in. ‘Oh no,’ I yelled. ‘The knackery truck might already be on the way.’

  ‘What are you going on about?’ said Mum.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Nothing. I don’t want any breakfast.’ I put on my clothes and rushed off without even saying goodbye.

  I crept round the back of Gravel’s place. I hoped he was still in bed.

  The shed door was locked but I was in luck. My claw-hammer was still lying where it had fallen the day before. I smashed off the lock and went into the gloom. Jingle Bells gave six happy little moos when she saw me.

  ‘Shhh,’ I whispered, holding my finger up to my lips. Jingle Bells didn’t understand. She was glad to see me and she kept mooing.

  ‘Quiet,’ I gasped. ‘Gravel will hear you. You don’t want to end up in the glue factory do you?’ I took the rope that was around Jingle Bells’ neck and led her out into the backyard. The only way out was up a path at the side of the house. It led to the front garden and the road. We walked in silence along the path. Just as we reached a low window Jingle Bells let out an enormous bellow. A monstrous, mind-numbing moo.

  5

  There was no use in being quiet any more. ‘Run,’ I yelled.

  But Jingle Bells didn’t want to move. She was blinking in the sunlight. She hadn’t been outside before. She was looking at the street and the cars. Then she saw something that did make her run. It was Gravel’s bloated, blotchy face. It was like the face of the Devil. Jingle Bells took one look at him and started to run out of the gate and down the road. She was really scared. Her udder swung from side to side as she went. It looked like a swollen rubber glove filled with water.

  Cows can run fast when they want to. Jingle Bells was disappearing down the road. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gravel heading for his car.

  Jingle Bells reached a T intersection. ‘Turn right,’ I shouted. ‘Head for the West Gate Bridge.’ Jingle Bells turned left and headed down the main road towards the city. I tried to catch her but she was too fast. She lurched down the road and past Jack Thaw’s old ice works. Jack was standing outside hosing down the footpath.

  ‘Help,’ I yelled to Jack. ‘Get your truck.’ Jack looked startled but he disappeared inside the factory as quick as he could go. Jingle Bells kept jogging along with her neck rope trailing behind her. She was heading straight for the centre of the city. I just couldn’t catch up.

  The frightened cow was running down the middle of Flinders Street. Cars and trucks swerved out of her way. Drivers blasted their horns and yelled out. The footpaths were crowded with people making their way to work. They all stopped and stared at the cow running down the middle of town.

  At last Jingle Bells reached the middle of the city. She turned and looked at Flinders Street Station. ‘Oh no,’ I groaned. ‘Don’t go up the steps.’ But she did. She started to walk up the steps into the station. Waves of people burst out of the gates. A couple of trains must have just arrived. Poor old Jingle Bells just stood there on the steps mooing as the crowd swept past like a mob of sheep dividing around a car on a country road.

  I battled through the throng and grabbed her rope. I noticed a policeman coming towards us. He was yelling something about cows on the footpath. I knew that if he caught us he would take my name and address. Then Jingle Bells would be taken back to her owner. And the glue factory.

  I looked around for escape. There was only one way to go. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Into the st
ation.’

  I pulled Jingle Bells up the steps and through one of the ticket gates. The ticket collector jumped up and started yelling. ‘Hey,’ he shouted. ‘Come back here. Where is that cow’s ticket?’

  We kept running. I turned down a ramp and pulled Jingle Bells through the crowds and onto a platform. A train was about to leave. ‘On here,’ I said. Jingle Bells followed me onto the train.

  The train was packed with people on their way to work. Travellers dressed for work in their best clothes stood or sat in the carriage. Everyone moved over for me and Jingle Bells. Most of the people sitting down just kept reading their papers. The ones standing up just stood there trying not to look at each other the way people do in trains. No one seemed worried that there was a cow in the train.

  The train pulled out of the station.

  There was a kid in school uniform sitting down in the corner. The bloke next to him suddenly poked this boy in the ribs and pointed at Jingle Bells’ udder. ‘Can’t you see there is a lady standing,’ he said. ‘Get up and give her your seat.’

  Everyone cracked up. The whole carriage burst out laughing. Except me. I was embarrassed. I went red in the face.

  ‘Well I think it is disgusting,’ said a woman wearing a white dress. ‘You can’t bring a cow in here. Not in a first-class carriage.’ She was standing right behind Jingle Bells. She poked the poor cow in the side with a sharp umbrella. Jingle Bells only did what any cow does when it is frightened. She lifted up her tail and released a large squirt of cow dung. It splurted out all over the woman’s white dress. The woman started screaming and shouting and jumping up and down like nothing on earth.

  The train was slowing down. It was Spencer Street Station. Not too far from the West Gate Bridge. ‘Come on,’ I said to Jingle Bells. ‘This is where we get off.’

  The people on the platform were so surprised to see a cow in the station that they didn’t do a thing. We just sailed out onto the road with no trouble at all.

  6

  I took Jingle Bells’ rope and led her along the freeway. We kept to the side of the road – out of the way of the semi-trailers and trucks that roared past. After ages and ages I caught a glimpse of the West Gate Bridge ahead. It towered up over the factories high into the sky.

  The road started to slope upwards. We were on the approaches to the bridge. After a while we came to a large green sign. It said:

  NO BICYCLES OR HORSES ON THE BRIDGE

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said to Jingle Bells. ‘You’re not a horse. And you sure aren’t a bike.’

  By now the sun was getting up and it was hot. We started to move up the bridge – higher and higher. Trucks and cars sounded their horns. Drivers waved at us. No one had ever seen a boy and a cow crossing over West Gate before. There was no footpath so we had to walk in the breakdown lane.

  Sweat was starting to form around Jingle Bells’ neck. Every now and then when a very large truck roared by she would give a nervous shudder. She was scared of the traffic. She wanted green fields and so far she had only found black bitumen. ‘Don’t worry old girl,’ I said. ‘It gets better on the other side. Only another couple of hours and we will start to see the paddocks.’ I sounded cheerful but I was worried. Cows weren’t meant to go on long journeys along hard roads. And Jingle Bells had never walked anywhere before. What if she conked out? What if she bolted and I lost her?

  I pulled Jingle Bells up to a stop so that we could rest for a while. That’s when I saw something good. My heart gave a little extra beat. A long way off behind us, stopped at a red light, was a truck with a little crane on the back.

  It was Jack Thaw.

  And then I saw something sad.

  Gravel in his Volvo. He drove straight through the red light. He was still a long way off but he was coming after us.

  ‘It’s Gravel,’ I gasped. Jingle Bells understood. Don’t ask me how but she did.

  She gave one frightened bellow and started to run. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep up. I would lose her. That’s when I did it. That’s when I jumped up onto her back.

  Jingle Bells trotted along the side of the bridge with me riding on top. I hung on to her horns like grim death. The air was filled with tooting and shouting. The traffic slowed. Everyone wanted to watch the cowboy.

  Boy, was I scared. We were right next to the railings on the edge of the bridge. People on the boats beneath looked like tiny insects. In the distance I could see an ocean liner heading along the river towards the sea. We were a long way up. Or I should say, the river was a long way down.

  Riding a cow isn’t easy. I jolted up and down. I slipped from side to side. My behind was sore from banging on Jingle Bells’ bones. At any moment I knew I would fall off. On and on ran Jingle Bells. Up towards the very highest part of the bridge. I couldn’t look behind us but I knew that Gravel was not far away.

  Suddenly a car swerved in front of us and squealed to a stop. It was Gravel. He had cut us off. Jingle Bells put on the brakes. She skidded to a stop and I went flying over her head. I landed on the bitumen road. I grazed my hands and face. My head hurt like crazy.

  ‘Got you,’ screamed Gravel. He was so mad that he was dribbling with anger. ‘That cow goes to the glue factory,’ he managed to get out. ‘And you go to the police station.’

  7

  Jingle Bells looked at me with her soft, brown eyes. She wanted me to help. But she knew, deep in her heart, that there was nothing I could do. I was only a boy. The poor cow gave one long moo and then jumped up at the railings of the bridge. She was trying to jump off. She managed to get her two front feet over the railings. Then she started pushing forwards with her back legs. She started to topple.

  ‘No,’ I shrieked. ‘No, no, no.’ I grabbed her tail and tried to pull her back. She was too heavy. I couldn’t hold her. She was slipping. I clung onto her tail. I couldn’t let her go. Over she went. Over the rail and into the air. Tumbling, turning, twisting. Down, down, down.

  And with her, still hanging onto the tail, was me.

  As we plummeted towards the brown water far below I thought I heard an evil voice from above raised in a cackling laugh.

  We seemed airborne for ever. A cow with a boy gripping its tail. Spinning through the smoggy air. I was terrified. And yet in another way I found it peaceful. I saw a snatch of sky. A glimpse of brown river. A toss of tumbling cow. Floating. Falling. Fearing. Like two feathers frozen in time. Down we plunged. Down, down, down.

  Crack.

  We hit the water. It was the loudest, hardest bang I have ever known. The river was like concrete. It flattened my bones. Squashed my flesh. Blackened my brain.

  For a brief second I felt myself gurgling deep in the water. And then nothing. I must have been knocked out.

  The next thing I remember is being dragged along through the river. My hand was still gripping Jingle Bells’ tail. She was swimming weakly for the shore. Sometimes my head was above water and sometimes it was under. I had water in my lungs. I coughed and spluttered. I was too tired to swim. All I could do was grip the tail in my tortured fingers.

  Jingle Bells saved my life. I would have drowned but for her. She was very weak. Dozens of times her head went under the surface but each time she found new strength. Finally she reached the shore. She staggered up the muddy bank a few steps, dragging me behind her. She turned around and looked at me for a few seconds with those brown eyes. Then she collapsed.

  She was dead.

  ‘Jingle Bells,’ I sobbed. ‘Jingle Bells. Don’t leave me.’ Her eyes stared forward without blinking. My eyes brimmed with tears.

  Now she would never see the green fields and taste the cool grass. After all this. After everything that had happened. I crawled over to her and twisted up her head. I didn’t know what to do. I remembered my first aid. I put my mouth down onto hers and blew. Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  But it didn’t work. She was too big. Air leaked out over the sides of her frothy tongue and out through her milky teeth. I just didn�
��t have enough puff to fill the lungs of a cow.

  I heard the sound of a car door. It was Jack Thaw. He looked at Jingle Bells’ still body and ran back to his truck. He ripped off the outside mirror from the truck door. Then he held it in front of Jingle Bells’ immobile mouth. ‘What are you doing?’ I sobbed.

  ‘Looking for fog,’ he said. ‘If the mirror fogs up it means she is breathing. If there is no fog she is dead.’

  We both looked at the mirror. There was no fog.

  ‘Come on,’ said Jack. ‘There is nothing we can do here.’

  ‘What about Jingle Bells?’ I shouted. ‘What about Jingle Bells?’

  ‘She will wash out with the tide,’ said Jack. ‘Out to the bay. It will be a sort of burial at sea.’

  ‘No,’ I shouted. The tears were still running down my face. ‘I’m not letting the sharks get her. Or the crabs. We are taking her with us.’

  ‘How?’ said Jack.

  I pointed to the crane on the back of Jack’s truck. ‘Put some ropes around her and lift her on to the truck.’

  ‘And then where?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Back to your place.’

  So that is what we did. We gently lowered Jingle Bells onto the back of Jack’s truck and took her body to the ice factory.

  8

  When we got there I went straight over to the big steel bin that Jack kept his freezing water in. It was on wheels. I tried to push it but it was too heavy. I climbed up on the little ladder and looked inside. It was full to the top.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Jack.

  ‘Lower Jingle Bells in,’ I said. ‘We are going to freeze her. We are going to add her to the collection.’

  Jack looked at me for a long time with a funny expression on his face. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But there is no one else in the world that I would do this for.’

  He started up the crane and lowered Jingle Bells’ body into the huge bin of water.