by Sam Copeland
‘Well, Charlie – I mean, I have explained this to you lots of times before – but I provide computer coding for IT and networking solutions.’
Nope, thought Charlie. I still haven’t a clue what that means.
‘Erm …’
‘Essentially,’ his dad continued, ‘I invent computer programs that help other companies.’
Ah! thought Charlie. I was right. My dad is an inventor!
Charlie let that sink in for a few moments while he plucked up the courage to ask what he really needed to know.
‘Daaaad?’ he said.
‘Mmm-hmm?’ his dad replied absent-mindedly, licking his ice cream, eyes closed, head lifted to the sunshine.
‘Sooo … I overheard you and Mum talking the other day and you said that the reason our company is in trouble was something was stolen –’
His dad looked at him with a seriously serious look on his face. ‘You know you really shouldn’t be listening in to conversations that don’t concern you, Charlie.’
‘I know! It was an accident! Honestly. I promise. Sorry. But I was wondering … so … what was stolen?’
‘Well, we think – but can’t prove – that our main competitor took something very important from our company,’ his father said.
‘What? What was taken?’ Charlie asked breathlessly.
It was the worst possible time for the cathedral bells to start ringing. But ring they did.
‘Well, we think they stole some co–BOOOONG–de,’ his dad said.
‘Some what?’ Charlie replied, straining to hear over the sound of the bells.
‘I SAID THEY STOLE SOME CO–BOOOONG–DE!’ his dad shouted over the deafening ringing.
‘WHAT? THEY STOLE SOME GO–BOOONG–LD?’
‘YES! THAT’S RIGHT! SOME CO–BONG–DE.’
‘Wow! That’s amazing!’ Charlie said, his mind whirling. He wasn’t sure why his dad would have gold in his office if he was just an inventor, but it made sense that someone would want to steal it.
‘I didn’t imagine you’d find it that exciting,’ his dad said.
‘You kidding? It’s the most exciting thing I’ve heard in ages!’
Suddenly Charlie thought his dad was way cooler than he ever had done before.
Charlie’s dad ruffled Charlie’s hair. ‘Don’t tell your mum I told you, OK?’ he said, then gave Charlie a wink.
Awesome! Charlie thought. My dad is an inventor and had gold stolen.
And Charlie was going to steal it back.
An hour or so later, the four of them were waiting for the bus to take them home. A cold light rain had started and it was dark, and the memory of the pizza and ice cream was slowly disappearing.
Headlights shone in the rain, and Charlie squinted to see if it was a bus. It wasn’t. It was a long black car with tinted windows and it pulled in noiselessly into the bus stop.
A dark window slid down. Out of the window poked the perfectly groomed blond head of Mr Van der Gruyne. He looked horribly like an older Dylan.
‘Treating your family to a ride on a bus, are you, McGuffin?’ Mr Van der Gruyne said to Charlie’s dad. ‘How jolly.’
Charlie didn’t like Mr Van de Gruyne’s tone one little bit. And he didn’t like the look of pleasure in his pale blue eyes.
‘Just drive on, Van der Gruyne,’ Charlie’s dad said gruffly.
‘Sure I can’t offer you a lift? You’d all fit in here no problem.’
‘We don’t want a lift from the likes of you,’ said Charlie’s mum, crossing her arms. ‘I’d rather walk on broken glass.’
Charlie suddenly felt very proud of his parents standing up to Mr Van der Gruyne.
‘Oh dear,’ said Mr Van der Gruyne, licking his pink lips delicately. ‘Looks like something has upset you all! Can’t think what it could be. Well, must be getting on! Business is so busy for me at the moment. I’m sure you understand. Merry Christmas, McGuffin!’
The window slid back up and the car drove off, leaving the McGuffin family standing together in the rain.
***
‘Ugh. That family is repulsive,’ said Flora, shaking her head.
‘Yeah, well, forget them! Let’s focus on the big news – it was gold that was stolen!’ Mohsen said, eyes wide. ‘That is the most awesome thing I have ever heard.’
Charlie was reporting to his friends what had happened the day of SmoothMove’s birthday and what he’d found out.
‘Apart from when Charlie told us about the whole turning-into-animals malarkey. That was definitely more awesome,’ Wogan said in a surprising turn of wisdom.
‘That’s true, Wogan. Fair point. But on a scale of awesomeness, Charlie’s dad hiding a stash of gold scores pretty high.’
‘Oh yes. Agreed,’ Wogan said thoughtfully. ‘But then it’s also definitely not as awesome as that assembly when I sneezed and farted at the same time.’
Mohsen nodded. ‘That was extremely awesome. We do seem to have a lot of awesomeness in our lives.’
Flora and Charlie stood open-mouthed at the ongoing conversation.
‘Can we focus please, guys?’ said Flora.
‘Sorry! We just think it’s awesome,’ said Mohsen.
‘We gathered,’ said Flora.
‘I never thought my dad had it in him,’ Charlie said. ‘Hiding gold and stuff. I wonder what else he’s up to.’
‘It is strange, though, isn’t it? I mean why does your dad even have gold hidden?’ asked Mohsen.
Wogan nodded. ‘All my dad has hidden is his gnome collection in the cellar, which Mum won’t let him have in the garden.’
‘It doesn’t seem particularly like him,’ said Flora. ‘Are you sure you got it right, Charlie? Maybe you misheard him?’
‘No!’ Charlie exploded. ‘I’m absolutely certain. He definitely said they stole some gold.’
As he spoke, Charlie remembered the loud clanging of the cathedral bells, and a tiny worm of nervous uncertainty reared its head. But just as quickly the bird of ignoring nagging doubt swooped down and gobbled the worm up in one. Before Charlie had time to think about it any more, an unwelcome interruption disturbed the four friends.
‘Well, well, well,’ said Dylan, as he approached with his best friend and fellow school bully Teddy. ‘Look who it is. Nerds of a feather.’
Teddy laughed uncertainly at Dylan’s joke, panicked confusion in his eyes.
‘What do you want?’ said Wogan, stepping forward towards Dylan.
‘I just want to see how Charlie’s doing. To see if he’s feeling a bit ruff? Nothing fishy about that. And doesn’t McGuffin speak for himself or is he too chicken?’
‘Yeah, very funny, Dylan,’ Charlie said. ‘But if that’s all you want, why don’t you and your teddy bear just push off?’
Teddy growled at Charlie and took a menacing step towards him, but Dylan held him back.
‘No need, Teddy,’ Dylan said, grinning. ‘So, Charlie? How’s everything going with your dad?’
‘What?’ said Charlie, glaring at him.
‘My dad said business was a bit tough for him at the moment.’
Charlie sprang forward and grabbed Dylan’s collar. ‘What do you know?’
Dylan shoved Charlie backwards. ‘Ooh, looks like somebody’s getting stressed,’ he gloated. ‘I hope you don’t start turning wild on me.’
‘Just leave him, Charlie. He’s trying to wind you up,’ said Mohsen.
‘That’s an excellent suggestion, Mohsen. Let’s go,’ said Flora. She took Charlie’s hand and led him away.
‘Hey! Charlie!’ Dylan shouted to the retreating friends.
Charlie turned round with a face like thunder. ‘What?’
‘I can’t wait for you to get home and see what I saw them putting up in your garden this morning!’
Charlie had no idea what Dylan was talking about, and despite not wanting Dylan’s words to get to him, he couldn’t help but think about it for the rest of the day.
He saw it as soon as he turne
d into his road on the way home.
Right in the middle of the garden.
A for-sale sign.
The moment Charlie saw the sign, stress and fear and anger hit him like a train. He felt like his stomach was falling out of his bum. A for-sale sign? So quickly? They were going to move? To where? To Aunt Brenda’s and her stinky cats? His parents had said it would take ages! They’d lied to him. And now everybody would know they were having to move because they couldn’t afford their house any more. Embarrassment and worry flooded his body.
His thoughts raced away. His heart began to pound.
And standing there, on the corner of his street where anybody could see him, Charlie started to change.
He tried breathing slowly, imagining his happy place, but he was outside, and that heaped more stress on top of the first stress.
What if someone sees me?
He tried thinking of happy, funny memories, but all he could picture was the uncertain future stretching out in front of him. There was no stopping the change this time.
He had to get inside. He started running towards his house, but already he could feel the fire racing through him, every cell in his body being stretched and squeezed, bristly fur sprouting all over him. He couldn’t ring the doorbell – his mum would drop dead of a heart attack if she opened the door to see her youngest son halfway into changing into a wombat or whatever it was he was turning into.
No – Charlie couldn’t go home, and that meant he had to find somewhere to hide, and fast. He dropped his bag on the doorstep and started running back the way he’d come, his mind a whirl of panic.
He suddenly found it easier to run on all fours.
His hands were turning into huge paws.
His breath was coming out in snorts.
He was growing big – as big as one of the small cars he was running blindly past.
Charlie forced himself to stop, desperately trying to think sensibly. He took stock of his situation. He was standing in the middle of the street where he lived and he had turned into – what had he turned into? He was huge, with enormous paws and knife-like claws, and when Charlie looked down he saw he was covered in white fur. That could only mean one thing.
Charlie was a polar bear.
And being a polar bear in a quiet residential street was far from ideal – in fact, it was pretty unbearable.fn1
Great, thought Charlie. Just great. I’m trying to hide but I can’t because I’m an ENORMOUS polar bear. And Mum and Dad are selling our house. Things can’t get any worse.
But as anybody who has been following Charlie’s adventures will know, just when Charlie thinks things can only get better, they tend to get much worse.
And this time was no exception.
Just as Polar-Charlie started thumping down the street again, desperately looking for a hiding place, Mrs Shufflebottom (the elderly childminder with a cloud of snow-white hair, who lived next door to Charlie and always picked up a gaggle of Reception kids from Charlie’s school) rounded the corner, a crocodile line of five small children skipping behind her.
They practically bumped into Charlie.
Now, I think we can all agree Charlie was having a bad day. He was worried about his dad and losing his home and he’d turned into a polar bear. Definitely a bad day.
However, that was a walk in the park on a sunny day eating chocolate ice cream with sprinkles compared to the day Mrs Shufflebottom and the children she was looking after were having.
They were walking down the street, minding their own business, when they turned the corner and were suddenly faced with a massive three-metre-tall 400-kilogram polar bear.
Mrs Shufflebottom froze in terror, too scared to make a noise.
The children, though, didn’t have any such problem – they let out a scream so loud and so high it nearly burst Charlie’s eardrums.
Polar-Charlie reared up on his hind legs and roared in fright.
This did not help matters – quite the opposite, in fact. From Mrs Shufflebottom and the children’s perspective, a polar bear was now standing in front of them, rearing up to its full height and roaring at them at the top of its lungs.
By this point, three of the five children had, understandably, weed in their pants in terror. It would be impolite to discuss whether Mrs Shufflebottom had weed in her pants. Some things are best left to the imagination. Let’s just say there were some bloomers in soak that evening.
Mrs Shufflebottom finally found her feet, turned round and started running the opposite direction from Charlie, arms flailing. She had quite forgotten about the children. One by one, the children recovered enough to start running away from Charlie as fast as they possibly could.
Charlie also decided running away as fast as he possibly could was the best course of action. So he did exactly that.
Little did he realize, though, that, as he ran back towards his house, Ava Braithwaite from Year Seven, who lived three doors down from Charlie, had also spotted him and, being rather braver than Mrs Shufflebottom (or at least standing at a safer distance), decided an Instagram post of a polar bear was too good to miss. So she got her phone out and started filming Polar-Charlie pounding down the pavement.
Charlie ducked behind a tree, panting. He’d be safe here, completely hidden by the tree, until he started to change, at which point he could run into his garden and turn back to Charlie in privacy.
As he waited, though, his tummy began to rumble. He was peckish.
Mrs Shufflebottom wouldn’t make a great meal, Charlie thought. She’s all wrinkly dry skin and brittle bones. But a couple of those children – now they would make a delicious snack. Juicy, tender children. Yum …
His mouth started watering at the thought of chomping into a small –
WHAT AM I DOING?! WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT EATING CHILDREN?!
YES. TASTY, DELICIOUS-SMELLING CHILDREN.
NO! THIS IS TERRIBLE! I CAN’T EAT CHILDREN.
MAYBE DON’T EAT ALL THE CHILDREN THEN. MAYBE JUST ONE. NOBODY WOULD MISS JUST ONE SMALL CHILD …
NO! STOP! I AM A HUMAN, NOT A BEAR! I! AM! HUMAN!
And with that thought Charlie could, thank goodness, at last feel himself start to change back. He bounded over to his house, round the side, into his back garden, and crouched as far away from the kitchen window as he could.
And before he knew it, he was back to Charlie, and any thoughts of eating children had completely disappeared.
Well, almost completely.
***
Once Charlie had gathered his thoughts and picked up his school bag, he let himself into his house. His mum and dad were both home and deep in conversation. As soon as he heard them, he forgot about being a bear and wanting to eat children, and remembered his anger about the sign outside the house.
He burst into the kitchen. ‘What do you call that outside? That for-sale sign?’
‘We’re just looking into it, Charlie. Exploring options,’ his mum said, holding her hands up.
‘Yeah, right!’ said Charlie.
‘It’s true. Nothing’s decided yet,’ his dad continued. ‘As I said, we’re still hoping it won’t come to selling the house, but we have to think about everything.’
‘Hmm,’ said Charlie, not believing a word they were saying, and he stormed upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.
He lay on his bed, worrying. Not just worrying about the house and being poor – no, on top of that he had a new worry.
A very serious worry.
Something different was happening to him when he changed into an animal.
When he was a cat, he’d licked his own bum. And when he was a bear, he’d wanted to eat people. He had looked at those children like normal-Charlie would look at a hot dog.
What was happening to him? Was he losing control of himself?
What would happen if he was with his friends and he turned into a lion? Or if he was with his family and turned into a deadly poisonous scorpion? He wasn’t safe to be around.
<
br /> Charlie’s thoughts whirled in his head until he heard his dad shouting from downstairs.
‘Charlie! SmoothMove! Quick! Come and have a look at this!’
Charlie began trudging downstairs, still angry about the for-sale sign. He met SmoothMove coming out of the sitting room. They shrugged at each other and wandered into the kitchen.
‘Come here!’ his dad urged. ‘I don’t believe it!’
His mum and dad were watching the news on the television. Charlie had to stifle a yelp when he saw what was on the screen. Even SmoothMove was wide-eyed with surprise.
It was shaky mobile-phone footage of a residential street that Charlie knew very well.
And a polar bear.
‘That’s our road!’ his dad exclaimed. ‘Can you believe it?’
‘Sshh!’ his mum said. ‘Listen!’
‘This shaky but extraordinary mobile-phone footage was taken just a short while ago by a brave, though some might say foolhardy, schoolgirl,’ said the news presenter over the footage of Charlie the bear lumbering down the street.
‘Quite where the polar bear came from, or – more worryingly – where it has gone, is still a complete mystery. If you do see the creature, do not approach. It could be extremely dangerous, and was said to be looking at a group of terrified schoolchildren as if they were hot dogs. What could have turned into tragedy, though, was averted, as the bear, possibly startled by the childminder Mrs Shufflebottom’s brave attempts to frighten the bear and save the children, ran off and attempted to hide behind a tree.’
The footage now showed Charlie trying to hide behind his tree, very clearly visible behind the thin trunk.
‘Although judging by this oversized beast’s comical attempts to conceal itself,’ the news reporter continued, ‘it looks like we are dealing here with a bear of very little brain.’
Finally the film showed Charlie disappearing round the side of his house into the back garden.
‘That’s our garden!’ shouted his dad. He ran to the patio window and looked out. ‘Nothing there now!’
Charlie’s mum looked at his dad in disbelief. ‘Course it’s not still there! Where do you think a great big polar would be hiding? Behind a plant pot?’
