by Sam Copeland
And what happened if they couldn’t stay with Aunt Brenda? What if they had to move areas? What if Charlie had to start a new school? Rumour had it that Huntsman’s School for Boys – the only other school in town, which was located in a converted Victorian prison – made their students play full-contact rugby. In their underpants. In winter.
By the time Charlie recognized the electricity searing through his body, it was too late.
I’m changing! Charlie thought in total panic. No! I’ve got it under control!
He quickly started slowing his breathing down, trying to calm himself, but he could already feel the squeezing feeling, like he was being shot down a wire into a plug socket.
Think happy thoughts! Think happy thoughts! Charlie tried telling himself, remembering that it was being happy that had stopped him from changing in front of the whole school during the school play. But the only thoughts his brain would allow him to think were of moving schools and SmoothMove’s crusty socks.
Charlie could feel fur springing out of his skin, millions of short hairs covering his arms, his face, his body.
And now, he was shrinking.
His teeth like tiny daggers.
Fingernails into claws.
A tail.
It was too late.
Charlie had changed.
Now, Charlie had a fair idea what he had turned into, but it was confirmed when Chairman Meow wandered into his bedroom. Chairman Meow was the family ginger cat and was usually pretty chill, apart from the time he had tried to eat Charlie when Charlie was a spider. But we all make mistakes.
However, the moment Chairman Meow clapped eyes on Charlie this time, all hell broke loose.
‘WHAT THE – WHO THE – WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!’ Chairman Meow screeched.
Charlie could understand him – and that meant one thing: Charlie was a cat.
‘A CAT! THERE’S A CAT IN HERE! I HATE CATS!’ Chairman Meow screamed.
He had puffed up to about ten times his normal size, his tail huge and fluffy. He was arching his back, standing on his tippy-claws, trying to make himself as big as possible.
‘GET OUT OF HERE, UNKNOWN INTRUDER CAT, OR I WILL DESTROY YOU! I WILL SHRED YOU TO TINY PIECES! BUT FIRST, AS IS TRADITION BEFORE CAT-WAR, I MUST SING THE CAT-SONG OF DEATH!’
And with that Chairman Meow began howling.
‘Can you PLEASE stop screeching like that? Goodness me, what a racket,’ Charlie meowed.
Chairman Meow glared at Charlie. ‘Answer me, unknown intruder cat. Who are you? Tell me your name before I resume the Cat-Song of Death.’
‘I’m –’
‘One moment! There is dirt on me!’ Chairman Meow began licking one leg furiously. ‘There. I am clean. You may continue.’
‘I’m Charlie! Your owner!’ Charlie said quickly.
‘My WHAT? You are very much mistaken, strange-smelling intruder cat. I have no owner.’
‘You do! Your name is Chairman Meow, and you belong to the McGuffin family.’
‘My name is Chairman Meow?! Once again you are very much mistaken, foolish stranger cat. My name is Deathclaw Litterborn of the House Felis, the First of His Name, the Untamed, King of the Canis and the First Cats, Cateesi of the Great Grass Garden, Eater of Birds and Father of Kittens.’
Charlie blinked at Chairman Meow. ‘I … I beg your pardon?’ he ventured.
‘I said my name is Deathclaw Litterborn of the House –’
‘No! Please. Stop. I heard you the first time. I’m just surprised. We’ve been getting your name wrong all these years.’
‘I am certain you have. Now, you dim-witted kitty, I have told you who I am. Who are you? Quickly now. I haven’t cleaned myself properly in over thirty minutes.’
‘I’ve told you who I am! I’m –’
‘Stop! A moment!’ Chairman Meow began licking his back. ‘There. I am clean. You were saying?’
Watching Chairman Meow clean himself, Charlie couldn’t help feeling that there must be some dirt on one of his own paws that urgently needed licking off …
‘I was saying I’m Charlie!’ Charlie said, trying to stop himself from licking his paw. ‘You know me – you sleep on my bed every night!’
Chairman Meow stared at Charlie, his eyes narrowing in recognition. ‘You are the Small Idiot Human?’
‘What do you mean “Small Idiot Human”?’
‘Every night I sleep on the bed of the Small Idiot Human. Are you the Small Idiot Human?’
‘Well, yes. But hang on – I’m not –’
‘You are the spawn of the Large Female Idiot Human and the Large Male Idiot Human.’
‘You know, I’m starting to think you’ve got a real attitude problem,’ said Charlie.
‘I am uncertain whether you are male or female,’ Chairman Meow continued.
‘What do you mean you don’t know if I’m male or female? I’m a boy!’
‘It is difficult to tell. Especially because I can’t bear looking at your ugly face.’
‘My WHAT?’ hissed Charlie indignantly, licking his paw clean.
‘Although sometimes I just stare at you and am stunned at how ugly you are. And those times when I can bear to look at you, I see neither male nor female,’ Chairman Meow continued, oblivious to Charlie’s indignation. ‘The other idiot human child smells more repulsive than you so I assumed perhaps he was an idiot human boy and you might be an idiot human girl.’
Charlie couldn’t help but see some logic in that.
‘Well, if I’m so repulsive, how come you sit on my knee all the time?’
‘Stupid creatures are just as warm as clever ones. Anyway, I tire of you. I must leave this room and find another room with a closed door for me to scratch at, for reasons that you cannot comprehend. And then I must hit the other cat on the head, for other reasons that your tiny mind cannot begin to comprehend.’
‘The other cat! You mean The Great Catsby?’ Charlie said, licking one of his other paws and cleaning his face.
Chairman Meow looked at Charlie blankly.
‘Oh! You probably don’t call her The Great Catsby!’ Charlie continued. ‘You probably call her something like Daggerteeth Catclaws, Slayer of Mice, Sitter in Boxes –’
‘The cat that sits in boxes?’ Chairman Meow replied. ‘No. That cat is called Miss Fluffikins.’
‘Miss Fluffikins? How come she gets –’
‘Do not ask. You should know by now that your tiny mind could not possibly comprehend the mind of a cat. Now, I must leave. To nap and try to forget your tiresome idiotic presence.’ Chairman Meow started walking to the door, but turned back to Charlie. ‘I do have one question for you.’
‘What? Anything as long as you don’t call me idiot again.’
‘Every day I lay my special brown cat-eggs in –’
‘Brown cat-eggs? Do you mean your poo?’
‘Do not interrupt. Every day I lay my special brown cat-eggs in the tray of gravel. And every day an idiot human steals them. Why? What do you do with them, brown-cat-egg-stealing idiot humans?’
‘We don’t STEAL your poo, we –’
‘Yes you do. I watch you. You scrape it up and put it in a bag – for what sick and twisted reason I cannot even begin to imagine. You really are foul, ugly, idiotic creatures.’
And with that Chairman Meow flounced out of the room, nose in the air, tail erect.
Charlie was alone. And was a cat. And he now had a new-found dislike of cats. He began absent-mindedly licking himself clean, thinking about how Flora had been right about him changing again, and how she was always right about everything, when three things happened in a row:
When he had finished wanting to be sick all over his bedroom floor, he steeled himself, and padded silently out of his room, down the stairs and up to the kitchen door so he could hear his mum and dad talking more clearly.
‘But surely they can’t get away with it!’ Charlie heard his mum say.
‘They can. And they will. We’re in real trouble,’ Charlie’s
dad replied. ‘It means we’ve lost exclusivity on the whole project. And they’re much bigger than us – they can afford to sell it much cheaper than we can, which means we’re in big, big trouble.’
‘But can’t you prove it’s yours? You’ve worked on it for years. They can’t just steal it from you!’
What!? Charlie thought. Has someone stolen one of Dad’s inventions?
‘You know what Van der Gruyne Industries are like. They’ve got armies of lawyers. The minute I try anything they will crush us with lawsuits. We can’t afford that.’
Van der Gruyne Industries? That was Dylan’s dad’s company! What had they done?
‘It’s corporate espionage!’ his mum cried. ‘It’s illegal!’
‘We can’t prove it,’ his dad replied glumly. ‘And they have it now. It’s too late. And if we’re not careful, they’ll swallow McGuffin & Sons whole.’
‘So that’s it?’ his mum said, sounding desperate. ‘We just give up? We don’t even fight? That’s our future they’ve stolen.’
There was a long silence before Charlie’s father replied. ‘We’ll think of something.’ He didn’t sound in the least bit hopeful.
‘And while we’re thinking, we lose our house, our home?’ Charlie’s mum was clearly angry.
She suddenly opened the door, and caught Charlie red-pawed.
‘What the …? There’s a strange cat in the house!’
Charlie’s mum walked to the front door, opened it and tried shooing Charlie out, but Charlie wasn’t particularly keen to go outside, as it was raining. Charlie’s mum disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a moment later holding a laser pointer. She shone it centimetres from Charlie’s nose.
The moment the red dot appeared, Charlie was transfixed. He just had to catch it.
Charlie tried resisting, he really did. But the way it moved – it was too tempting …
Must … try to … resist …
And before Charlie knew what was happening, he had chased the laser spot outside, and the front door was shut forcefully behind him.
Charlie sat on the doorstep, feeling pretty shamefaced. He pondered his situation. It was raining heavily, and Charlie wondered how he was going to get back into the house. And how long his family might even have a house.
A leaf, fluttering in the wind, caught his eye. It looked like a mouse. A dangerous mouse that needed killing. Charlie crouched, still and silent, and then, when the leaf was least expecting it, he pounced, grabbed the leaf in his mouth, began chewing it, rolling on the ground, and then –
Then Charlie began to change back.
Before he knew it, he was back to Charlie. Except he was Charlie with a leaf in his mouth.
He took it out, feeling slightly embarrassed.
Charlie dismissed his embarrassment until later – for now he needed to get back in the house. He considered his options. He quickly decided against shinning up the drainpipe as he had never shinned up anything in his life and wasn’t convinced he even knew how to shin, so didn’t fancy his chances. Besides, there weren’t even any windows open. Vaulting over the fence to the back door would be pointless as that would be locked at this time of the evening. There was nothing else for it – Charlie had to ring the doorbell.
His mum opened the door, a look of shock on her face when she saw Charlie standing outside, dripping wet.
‘What on earth are you doing out here, Charles McGuffin?!’
‘I … er … I was just looking at the … moon … and the door shut behind me.’
Charlie knew he sounded pretty unconvincing.
‘You can’t even see the moon! It’s pouring with rain. You’re absolutely soaking wet. And is that a bit of leaf sticking out of your mouth? What have you been doing? Get inside, now!’
***
As Charlie climbed into bed that evening, questions whirled round his head. What had been stolen from his dad? What did Dylan’s dad’s company have to do with it? And why had he acted so strangely when he was a cat? It was all very worrying. He’d have to talk to his friends about it all in the morning.
He’d tried to eat a leaf, for goodness’ sake. He’d even licked his own bum clean.
But there was no way he was telling Flora, Mohsen and Wogan that.
‘So how exactly did you behave strangely?’ asked Flora, looking sideways at Charlie.
Charlie was walking home with Flora, Mohsen and Wogan, and he’d told them everything that had happened the previous evening.
Nearly everything.
‘Yeah, come on, Charlie,’ said Mohsen. ‘You can tell us anything.’
‘That’s right,’ said Wogan. ‘We are all really good secret-keepers here. I mean, everybody knows I never tell anybody anything. Like, remember the time you told me you were in love with Flor–’
‘Wogan!’ Charlie shouted.
Mohsen’s jaw was on the floor. Flora was blushing furiously.
‘Can we please just concentrate on what’s important here?’ Charlie continued, clearly panicking.
Flora stopped walking, and they all stopped with her. She looked hard at Charlie.
‘Charlie, whatever happened, it would be much better for you to share it. We won’t judge you.’
‘OK,’ said Charlie, taking a deep breath. ‘I ate a leaf and licked my bum clean.’
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Mohsen’s jaw hit the floor.
‘You whatted your what-what?’ Wogan asked Charlie, then turned to the others. ‘What did he say he did? I thought I heard him say he licked his own bum clean! I mean, imagine! How disgusting would that be?’
‘You heard right,’ said Charlie, looking thoroughly miserable. ‘That’s what I mean. I was disgusting. And I’ve no idea why I did it.’
‘Charlie, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,’ said Flora, eyes full of concern. ‘We are all –’
‘Did it taste horrible?’ Wogan butted in. ‘When you licked your bum? It must have done.’
Flora glared at Wogan. ‘Wogan! Now is not the time.’
‘That’s right,’ said Mohsen. ‘We need to focus. We can’t do anything about what Charlie did. We should probably try to forget about it, although I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to. Anyway, what we can do is start thinking about what to do about Charlie’s dad and what Dylan’s dad nicked off him.’
They all nodded in agreement.
‘You’re sure you’ve no idea what it was?’ Mohsen continued.
‘No. No idea at all,’ Charlie replied, downcast.
‘Well, that’s the first thing we need to do: find out what exactly it is they’ve stolen.’
‘What use will that be?’ asked Charlie.
‘Ah, well, I have a plan,’ said Mohsen, waggling his eyebrows up and down. Flora, Charlie and Wogan stopped in their tracks and stared at Mohsen. ‘And it’s a plan so clever you could stick a fuzzy wig on it and call it Albert Einstein.’
‘Whoa. Hang on. Stop right there,’ Wogan said, holding his hand up. ‘We all know that Flora is the plan-maker in this group. I’m not sure I’m comfortable swapping roles like that. I mean, what next? Maybe I should swap with Charlie and then I could go around confessing my undying love for Flor–’
‘Wogan!’ shouted Charlie. ‘Sheesh. I mean, come on.’
‘We should hear Mohsen out,’ said Flora. ‘I want to hear the plan.’
‘OK,’ said Mohsen, looking around furtively to make sure nobody else was listening. ‘Listen up. Here’s what we do. We find out what Dylan’s dad’s company stole. Then we break in to their office and steal it back.’
‘OK. Interesting,’ said Flora. ‘How do we do that?’
‘How? Well, I dunno,’ said Mohsen, shrugging. ‘I hadn’t got that far.’
‘Yeah,’ said Wogan. ‘That’s not really a plan then. That’s more of an idea than a plan.’
‘It is a plan!’ said Mohsen, looking a little hurt.
‘Whatever it is, why does everything always end up with me breaking i
n to somewhere?’fn1 said Charlie. ‘And Van der Gruyne Industries has serious security. It has massive high gates and guards. It has guard dogs. It has drones with laser-guided nuclear missiles.’
‘Hang on,’ said Flora. ‘Drones with laser-guided nuclear missiles? How exactly do you know they have those?’
‘Erm … I think it was actually Dylan who told me …’
‘Yes, well, then I think we can probably forget the laser-guided nuclear drones, Charlie.’
‘OK, thinking about it, we probably can. But high gates! Security guards! Dogs! They are all very real.’
‘Hmm,’ hmmed Flora. ‘It won’t be easy. It is a good plan, Mohsen –’
‘A good idea,’ said Wogan.
‘It just needs a bit of development. I’ll put my mind to it. But first, Charlie – you need to find out exactly what’s been stolen …’
***
The opportunity to find out what exactly had been stolen came Charlie’s way a few days later, and Charlie being Charlie he grabbed the opportunity with both hands and ran with it.fn2
The McGuffins had all gone into town to celebrate SmoothMove’s birthday and, abandoning the new money-saving regime for the afternoon, were splashing out on a pizza-and-ice-cream family lunch. Despite the cold weather, they were sitting outside in the town square by the cathedral, happily lapping at their ice creams, watching Christmas shoppers rush by, laden with shopping bags.
The Christmas lights were on, and in the middle of the square, beside the huge Christmas tree, there was a real-life nativity scene with an actual real-live donkey. The donkey was eating the hay that was lining the baby Jesus’s crib, and Joseph was straining at its lead trying to pull it away. SmoothMove and Mum were deep in conversation about who’d win a wrestling fight between four koala bears and the Queen.
It was the first time Charlie had been at least half alone with his dad since he’d agreed to find out what had been stolen. He had to grab the opportunity. He took a deep breath.
‘Dad? Tell me again, what exactly is your job?’
Charlie was absolutely determined to listen and understand this time.
