The Unforgettable What's His Name

by Paul Jennings

  ‘Take us there. Now,’ growled Shark.

  My brain changed up a gear. I was really rolling.

  ‘If I take you to Fearless, will you forgive me?’ I said.

  ‘For what?’ said The Chief.

  ‘For anything,’ I said.

  Granny took a step towards me. ‘If you find my dog,’ she said, ‘the world is yours. All is forgiven. Whatever it is.’

  They all smiled and nodded their heads.

  They weren’t big bad bikies at all. They were just people who liked motorbikes. I felt good. And I felt relaxed.

  A warm feeling started to flow through my body. No one had noticed, but my bikie boots had gone. In their place were my own shoes.

  My tattoos began to fade. I could feel myself changing.

  I couldn’t let them see what was happening. Their minds would be blown if they saw a bearded bikie change into a small boy. Who knew what would happen with so many people making a fuss over me? I might grow feathers like one of the chooks. Or worse. I quickly ducked down behind Maggot’s bike.

  In a flash, my bomber jacket disappeared. The hair was back on my head. My beard went away. I was my old self. Just like everyone else. No – the same, but different. And it felt great.

  I jumped out from behind the bike and held up my arms.

  ‘Ta da,’ I said.

  The bikies all gasped. They were impressed. But not shocked.

  ‘How did he do that?’ said Metal Mouth.

  ‘What a trick,’ said The Chief.

  ‘He’s a little magician,’ said Metal Mouth.

  ‘I knew the beard was a fake,’ said Shark.

  ‘It’s him,’ said Metal Mouth. ‘The kid who bumped our bikes.’

  They all shook their heads. Some of them looked cross. But a promise was a promise. No one complained. And anyway, I had made Granny happy.

  Maggot looked at me with a funny expression. Then he grinned and lifted me up onto the back of his bike and started the engine. Thirty-one bikes roared at the sky.

  I pointed to the gate.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I shouted.

  Granny led the way on her three-wheeler. She was the real boss of the gang. We roared through the streets. It felt good sitting there behind Maggot with my arms around his waist.

  Finally we pulled up at the pound.

  The gang crowded into the office. Through a window I could see cats in pens. But no dogs. A ranger came into the office and looked startled to see so many people in the room.

  It was the woman who had put Sandy in the van. Maggot banged a fifty-dollar note down on the counter in front of her.

  ‘What’s that for?’ said the ranger.

  ‘The dog with no ears,’ he said. ‘It’s ours.’

  ‘It’s got no tag,’ said the ranger.

  Granny took over. She held up a broken collar covered in metal studs.

  ‘This is his,’ she growled.

  The ranger read the tag and nodded.

  ‘Wait here,’ she said.

  In no time at all the ranger was back with Sandy. Or should I say Fearless. He wagged his tail happily. The bikies nodded and grinned. I could see that they all loved him. The ranger handed Fearless over to Maggot and all the bikies started to pat the happy dog.

  Sandy began to bark with excitement. He looked at me. He looked at Granny. He didn’t know who to run to first. Sandy liked us both.

  I held out my hands and squatted down. ‘Sandy,’ I yelled. ‘Come to me.’

  Granny held out her hands and squatted down. ‘Fearless,’ she growled. ‘Come to me.’

  He looked at me. He looked at her.

  ‘Sandy,’ I yelled.

  ‘Fearless,’ said Granny.

  Sandy didn’t know what to do. But in the end he did the right thing. He scampered to Granny and jumped all over her. She was so happy.

  After a bit he came and licked my hand.

  Granny nodded. ‘That kid’s all right,’ she said. ‘From now on he’s one of us.’

  ‘If his mum says it’s okay,’ said Maggot.

  On the way out Granny winked at me and held out a closed fist. She opened it and showed me something. It was a dog biscuit.

  I wanted to say something funny. Because she cheated. But I was too shy. So I just gave a little smile.

  She winked at me again and then tapped her nose.

  The gang dropped me off near home. Maggot handed me a piece of paper.

  ‘What’s this?’ I said.

  ‘My phone number,’ he said. ‘Give it to your mum.’

  As I walked through the park I thought about my life. I felt much happier than I had that morning. The bikies were my new friends. Especially Maggot. But only if Mum agreed.

  And Sandy was my dog. Sort of.

  But I was still shy. And I had to find a way to stop blending in. I had to get control of myself.

  I made my way through the trees and headed to the place where the whole thing had started. The place where the two little statues stood by the road. But when I got there I found that things had changed.

  Only one lonely stone boy stood there squirting water out of his mouth. The other one had gone.

  Someone must have stolen it.

  I stared at the one that was left. Somehow I kept feeling that the missing statue had seemed just a little bit different. Like with identical twins; when you get to know them you can tell which is which.

  ‘Where’s your mate gone?’ I said.

  I wished he was alive. I wished he was my friend. But he was made of rock.

  And didn’t say a thing.

  It would be good to get home. I decided not to tell Mum about my problems. About blending in and all that. She wouldn’t believe me. Who would? And she would start to worry. And want to take me to see a doctor. And the doctor wouldn’t believe it either. And then what?

  I was looking forward to my own room. And my own bed. To peace and quiet. And to falling asleep with Bad Bear. I was so tired from my big day. And it wasn’t over yet. Not by a long way.

  I went through the back door and into the kitchen. I heard voices. It was Mum and …

  Oh, no. My heart turned to ice. I had forgotten. Gertag was staying with us. And she was already there.

  I crept upstairs to my room. I started to hide everything. My books, my Transformers, my skateboard. I had to be quick. Before Gertag got up to her usual tricks.

  I picked up Bad Bear and looked around. There was nowhere to hide him. He was as big as me. His eyes seemed to see, even though they were made of glass. His mouth was pulled back into a snarl. It wasn’t his fault that he looked weird. I had dropped him on his head once when I was little. And a car ran over him. His teeth got mashed up when he hit the road. But I still loved him.

  And Gertag knew that I did. I heard her footsteps coming.

  I jumped behind the curtains. Bad Bear was still on the bed.

  The door crashed open.

  ‘He’s not here,’ said Gertag.

  ‘Where has that boy gone?’ said Mum.

  I stayed in my hiding place. And kept quiet.

  ‘Can I have Bad Bear, please?’ said Gertag. Her voice was like honey.

  ‘No, dear,’ said Mum. ‘Bad Bear is special.’

  I heard Gertag stamp on the floor. Then the door closed. I was alone. But I knew that I would have to go and be nice to her sooner or later.

  I could hear Mum calling.

  ‘Dinnertime. Come down and have your dinner.’

  I stayed where I was. No way was I going to sit down there and be nice to Gertag. Okay, I was hungry. But I had emergency supplies.

  Burp Bombs. I could make a Burp Bomb last for two hours if I sucked slowly. I was looking forward to a good slurp. Burp Bombs were delicious.

  I pulled open the top drawer of my bedside table. There was only one Burp Bomb left. Someone must have pinched the other one.

  Mum sent Gertag upstairs to call me for tea. I could hear her opening doors. I listened to her calling out softly s
o that Mum couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  ‘Where are you, little What’s His Name?’

  I didn’t answer. She gave up and went downstairs.

  I had to go. I knew that. So I followed her down. Mum was dishing up stir-fry. Oh, no. Not Mum’s stir-fry again.

  It always had something new in it that she had discovered. Mongolian devil grass. Or dried crickets. Or furry nuts. And other stuff that tasted like sawdust.

  I thought she might have made something else for our visitor. But it probably wouldn’t have made any difference because everything Mum made tasted the same. I never told her that, of course. I just said, ‘Yum,’ and swallowed quickly.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ said Mum.

  I couldn’t tell her that it was monkey mixed with elephant and a bit of dog sweat on the side. So I changed the subject. Gertag was sucking something.

  ‘She ate my Burp Bomb,’ I said softly.

  Gertag smiled with her mouth. But her eyes did not smile.

  ‘He had two,’ she said. She got up and went upstairs so that she didn’t have to answer any questions.

  Mum looked at me. ‘You have to share,’ she said. ‘You have to give your visitor half. You know that.’

  ‘She didn’t even ask,’ I said.

  I forced down Mum’s stir-fry and went upstairs to have a shower. Then I put on my pyjamas and got into bed with Bad Bear. I was glad that no one at school knew about him. They would all laugh if someone told them I had a toy bear.

  I could never get to sleep without Bad Bear. I put my arms around him and tipped him over. He gave a soft growl. For some reason Bad Bear’s growl made me feel safe. Even though he was only a stuffed toy with a battery inside him.

  I decided to cheer myself up by eating the last Burp Bomb. I opened the drawer. Gertag had been in my room again. There was only half of the last Burp Bomb left. Why did she have to spoil everything? I quickly ate it, then fell asleep thinking about my weird, weird day.

  And not knowing that the next one would be even weirder.

  It was early in the morning. Still dark. Around one o’clock, I think. I was having a dream about the statue I had seen in the park. The one I thought had blinked its eyes at me. The one that had disappeared.

  Right in the middle of the dream a noise woke me up. I opened my eyes but couldn’t see a thing. There was a scratching at the window. Someone was outside.

  It couldn’t be Gertag. There was no way she could climb up to the first-floor window.

  I stared out into the black night. Then I made it out: a face at the window.

  I wanted to turn on the light but I couldn’t take my eyes off the face.

  Finally I managed to stretch out my hand.

  Click. The room was full of light. But now I couldn’t see out the window properly. I could only make out two eyes. The eyes were looking, looking, looking.

  I grabbed Bad Bear and hugged him. The face outside stared in.

  I started to pant. I went cold. Then hot. It was like I was drowning. I couldn’t get enough air. Oh, no. It was happening again. I was scared and I was changing.

  I looked at my hands. Oh, what?

  Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

  I was covered in fur. Brown fur.

  Right at that moment I heard a knock.

  The face at the window disappeared.

  The door swung open.

  It was Gertag. The noise must have woken her. She stared at me. Then at Bad Bear.

  ‘Two,’ she said to herself. ‘That sneaky little What’s His Name has got two bears.’

  Oh, no. I was a copy of Bad Bear. I could see myself in the mirror.

  But this was different to anything that had happened before. I wasn’t just blending in. I wasn’t just covered in fur. I was a real bear. With a snarl. And smashed teeth.

  ‘What’s His Name has to share,’ Gertag said. She grabbed one of my paws and pulled.

  Bump. I fell onto the floor.

  ‘You’re heavy,’ she said.

  Gertag started to drag me through the door and along the corridor. I was frozen with fear. I couldn’t even move.

  ‘Please, no, no, no,’ I thought.

  But it was no good. She pulled me into the spare bedroom and slammed the door.

  Gertag tried to heave me up into the bed. But I was too heavy. I wasn’t stuffed with straw like Bad Bear. I had guts and gizzards and a heart. The real Bad Bear didn’t weigh much. I was heavy.

  Gertag dropped me onto the floor. Then she shoved a pillow under my head. She smiled her terrible smile as she looked at my furry face. She covered me with her doona and snuggled in with me.

  Oh, it was terrible. Oh, it was horrible. But there was worse to come.

  ‘You’re ugly,’ said Gertag. ‘But I like you.’

  She put her lips up to mine.

  Oh, what, what, what? She was kissing me. Her lips were all wet and sloppy and tasted of Burp Bomb.

  I pushed her away with my paws and bounded to the door.

  Gertag screamed.

  I tried to twist the doorhandle with my claws but it was slippery. I backed into a corner and tried to wipe Gertag’s spit off my lips.

  A terrible growl came out of my mouth. The sound of it filled the room.

  I was so scared.

  But not as scared as Gertag.

  She gave another huge scream and bolted out of the room. She ran down the corridor yelling and shouting.

  ‘A bear, a bear, a bear. A real bear.’

  I lumbered back to my room on all fours. I was in a terrible state. I tried to call out, but all I could do was growl. I had to calm myself. I knew that relaxing was the only way to get back to normal. I would never be a boy again until I calmed down.

  I glanced up at the window. The face was back. Looking in. Staring. Filling me with fear. There was no way I could relax.

  I could hear Gertag shouting for Mum. And footsteps on the stairs. I had to hide. Mum wouldn’t know it was me. She might attack me. And I wouldn’t be able to fight back. I couldn’t bite my own mother.

  I quickly bunched up the covers with my paws to make it look like I was sleeping. Then I wiggled underneath the bed. I tried to stop panting.

  I saw feet come into my room.

  ‘It was just a bad dream,’ Mum whispered to Gertag. ‘Bad Bear is just a toy.’

  She must have been looking at the toy Bad Bear. The springs squeaked above me as she sat down and picked him up.

  ‘Bad Bear growls when you tip him,’ said Mum. I heard Bad Bear’s quiet growl.

  ‘He was real,’ yelled Gertag.

  ‘Did you ask if you could have Big Bear?’ Mum said in a quiet voice. She thought I was asleep under the covers.

  ‘There were two of them,’ said Gertag. ‘I was sharing with What’s …’

  Mum’s voice changed. She was annoyed.

  ‘No, dear,’ said Mum. ‘There is only one Bad Bear. Not two. It was a birthday present his father gave him when he was a little boy. He can’t get to sleep without Bad Bear.’

  Gertag stamped her feet.

  ‘There were two, there were two, there were two,’ she shouted. ‘And one ran away.’

  There was a silence. I knew that Mum was shaking her head. And looking at Gertag in the way that parents do when they don’t believe you.

  Gertag was angry but she said something wonderful.

  ‘I want to go home.’

  At first Mum didn’t say anything. She wanted me to have a friend. Any friend. Even Gertag. I could almost see her thinking.

  ‘Okay, Gertag,’ said Mum with a sigh. ‘If that’s really what you want.’

  They disappeared downstairs and I heard Mum talking to Gertag’s mother on the phone. Not long after that, I heard a car horn toot and then the front door open. Mum had taken the terrible girl out to meet her mother.

  It was such a relief.

  Gertag was gone.

  I stayed under the bed trying to stop panting. I tried to relax. I tried to c
alm down so that I would turn back into a boy. But it was no use. I was still a bear.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the window. And the eyes staring in from the darkness.

  I didn’t want to look. But if you don’t look you don’t know. And then the fear is worse.

  Then I realised something. If the person at the window saw me they wouldn’t see a boy. They would see a bear. A walking, growling bear.

  They would probably get a fright and run away.

  I crawled out from under the bed and looked at the window.

  The face outside pressed its nose to the glass. A dark, flat nose. Beady black eyes peered in.

  Suddenly it gave a squeak. And then a squeal. Oh, no. Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes. It wasn’t a man. It wasn’t a woman. It wasn’t even a person.

  It was a monkey.

  The face at the window belonged to Banana Boy.

  Slowly, slowly, slowly, the fur on my arms began to thin out. My paws began to grow fingers. And my feet began to grow toes. I was like a plant beginning to shoot and grow buds.

  In no time at all I was my normal self again. Legs, arms, fingers, belly button. It was all there.

  ‘What are you doing here, Banana Boy?’ I yelled through the window. ‘Is it just you? Where are all the other monkeys? How did you find me?’

  He couldn’t answer. He was a monkey. He just sat there on the windowsill, shivering. Then he held out a tiny hand. I could see that he was frightened. And probably hungry.

  At that moment Mum rushed through the door.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she said. ‘What’s happening now? What are you yelling at? What did you see?’

  ‘A monkey,’ I said. ‘From the zoo. Look.’

  Mum peered into the black night. There was nothing there.

  ‘It must have been a possum,’ she said. She gave a little laugh.

  ‘No, it was a monkey,’ I said. ‘I saw him at the zoo today. His name is Banana Boy.’

  Mum looked at me strangely. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘If you say so, dear.’

  She patted me on the head and led me back to bed.

  I decided to tell Mum the whole thing after all. That’s what mothers are for. And fathers.