by Sam Copeland
‘Now THAT was awesome!’ said Mohsen.
‘It truly was,’ said Flora. ‘But we have to keep moving. Let’s get inside the building while we can.’
Charlie, Mohsen, Wogan and Flora shot through the open gate and towards the Van der Gruyne Industries building.
‘Which way?’ shouted Charlie, relieved to be human again, the lingering taste of egg sandwich in his mouth a reminder of how close he had come to getting stuck as a pigeon forever.
Wogan pointed. ‘That’s the front door, but it’s probably locked. If we go round the back, though, there’s an entrance into the basement that we might be able to sneak in through.’
His three friends turned to look at Wogan.
‘And how on earth do you know that?’ asked Flora, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
‘Because I came here a couple of years ago on a school trip,’ said Wogan matter-of-factly.
‘You’ve been here on a school trip?’ said Flora, staring at Wogan. ‘And you didn’t think of mentioning that before now?’
‘I didn’t think it was important,’ protested Wogan.
‘You didn’t think it was important?! Sometimes I – Never mind. Let’s go!’
They skirted round the building until they found some stairs, which led down to a door.
‘You don’t think the door will be alarmed, do you?’ asked Mohsen nervously.
‘Definitely not,’ replied Wogan, pushing it open.
An ear-splitting alarm shrieked through the whole building.
Wogan shrugged. ‘It was a guess, OK?’ he yelled above the noise. ‘Not the best guess, I admit.’
‘Charlie? Can you do something?’ shouted Mohsen, hands over his ears.
‘What do you mean, can I do something?’ bellowed Charlie.
‘What?’ replied Mohsen.
‘TAKE. YOUR. HANDS. OFF. YOUR. EARS.’
‘WHAT?’
‘I said,’ replied Charlie, pulling Mohsen’s hands away from his ears, ‘“What do you mean, can I do something?”’
‘You know, change into an animal and stop the alarm?’
‘What sort of animal?’ asked Charlie incredulously. ‘An alarm-fixing zebra?’
‘OK, fair point, I guess not.’
And then, just as suddenly as the alarm had started ringing, it stopped.
‘Wow, that is SUCH a relief,’ said Wogan.
‘Isn’t it? I thought my head was going to explode,’ said Charlie, grinning.
‘What?’ said Wogan.
‘You can take your fingers out of your ears now, Wogan.’
‘But why would the alarm just switch off like that?’ asked Flora.
‘No idea!’ said Charlie. ‘Maybe it ran out of batteries.’
‘Maybe …’ Flora didn’t sound particularly convinced.
‘Where are we?’
The four looked around. They were in a dark low-ceilinged basement. Huge banks of computers snaked round the room, all glowing and humming. Some tinsel hung limply on the walls.
‘Oh!’ said Wogan. ‘I remember this room. These are the servers for Van der Gruyne Industries – the computers that store all the important information for the company.’
‘OK, then we know where we are, but where do we go?’ Flora said.
‘I don’t know. Wherever they keep their safe, I suppose,’ Charlie replied.
‘Their safe?’ asked Mohsen.
‘Well, where else do you think they’d keep the gold?’
‘I guess,’ Mohsen agreed. ‘And how on earth are we going to break in to a safe if we do find it?’
‘Charlie’s just going to have to use animal strength to bust it open,’ Flora replied. ‘And my theory is they’d keep a safe in Dylan’s dad’s office.’
‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Charlie. ‘But where is that? Wogan – don’t suppose you know, do you?’
‘No. Sorry,’ said Wogan.
‘Then we’ll just have to search the building,’ said Flora.
Mohsen gasped. ‘The whole building?’ he said. ‘That’ll take forever! This place is huge!’
‘Well, we don’t have a choice, do we?’ snapped Charlie. ‘So let’s just get going.’
‘Or we could look at the map,’ suggested Wogan.
Once more, the others turned to Wogan in unison.
‘What map?’ asked Flora, eyes narrowed again.
‘I forgot to say I googled Van der Gruyne Industries yesterday and found a floor plan on the council website, so I printed it out.’
His three friends stared at Wogan in wide-eyed silence.
‘What?’ said Wogan. ‘Why are you all staring at me like that?’
‘Un-be-liev-able,’ said Flora. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to tell us that you might have forgotten?’ she asked.
‘How am I supposed to tell you if I’ve forgotten?’
Even Flora couldn’t argue with that logic.
‘Well, if anything else important pops into your head –’
‘Actually, there is one other thing,’ said Wogan.
‘What?’ asked Charlie.
‘I need a wee.’
Flora put her hands on her hips. ‘Really? Now?’
Wogan nodded.
‘Can’t you wait?’ asked Charlie. ‘It’s just things are a little urgent right now. What with us being in the middle of a robbery.’
‘I guess …’ said Wogan, sounding very unsure.
‘OK, great then,’ said Charlie. ‘Now, get your map out. Which way?’
Wogan examined the map, and pointed to the door they had just come through. ‘That way!’
‘What?’ said Mohsen. ‘Back outside? You sure?’
Wogan looked at the map again. ‘Sorry!’ he said, turning the map the right way up. He pointed to a different doorway, which seemed to lead into a long corridor. ‘The president’s office is on the top floor. The lift is this way.’
They ran down the corridor, and then down another, while Wogan looked at his map and called out instructions.
Finally they turned a corner and arrived at a lift. Mohsen pressed the button. All four nervously looked up and down the corridor, praying that no security guards would appear. After what seemed like an age, the lift pinged, the doors opened and they piled in. Mohsen hit the button for the top floor. The doors slid closed, and the lift started rising.
‘This is all a bit too easy for my liking,’ Flora thought to herself aloud, which is basically the same as speaking.
‘Don’t worry!’ said Mohsen. ‘There’s no need to –’
And then the lift suddenly stopped.
Between floors.
The four friends looked at one another, panic etched on each face.
Mohsen hit the button repeatedly.
Nothing.
The lift was completely stuck.
‘What do we do?’ asked Charlie.
He was met with three blank faces and shrugs.
Mohsen gulped. ‘We’re trapped.’
‘Guys,’ said Wogan, ‘I don’t want to make a bad situation worse, but I REALLY need the toilet.’
Flora stamped her foot. ‘WOGAN! Now is NOT the time. We need to focus. How are we going to get out?’
Mohsen tried banging the buttons again, but that didn’t do anything.
‘Could we reach the emergency hatch?’ Mohsen said, pointing to a panel above their heads.
‘And then what?’ asked Charlie.
‘We could all climb out?’
‘And then?’
‘We could … climb the inside of the lift shaft to the next floor?’
‘And then?’
‘Prise the doors apart?’
‘Mohsen,’ said Flora firmly.
‘Yes?’
‘We are nine years old. We aren’t going to climb up any lift shafts. Wogan can’t even climb the rope at school.’
‘That’s true actually,’ said Wogan, nodding. ‘I just sort of get stuck and dangle at the bottom. But seriously, we need to foc
us on the main problem here – I’m going to wee myself. It’s actually going to happen in about thirty seconds.’
‘You can’t wee on the floor when we are all stuck in here,’ said Flora. ‘You’ve GOT to hold on!’
‘Twenty-five seconds,’ said Wogan, crossing his legs.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’
‘Quick – does anybody have a flask or a bottle he could wee in?’ asked Charlie.
‘I’ve got my sandwich box,’ suggested Mohsen, with some reluctance. ‘But –’
‘Fifteen seconds,’ said Wogan, slightly bending over, his voice strained.
‘QUICK!’ shouted Charlie. ‘Get it out!’
Mohsen tore open his bag and pulled out his sandwich box …
‘Ten seconds.’
… threw out the remaining sandwiches …
‘Five seconds.’
… and flung the box at Wogan.
‘There!’
Quick as a flash, Wogan dropped Mohsen’s sandwich box on the floor in the corner, pulled his pants down, and just at the very last second before disaster struck, started doing a wee in it.
Flora, Charlie and Mohsen stared the other way, trying to ignore the wee, which was both ridiculously loud and ridiculously long.
After a while, Charlie had to say something. ‘How much more can there be?’
‘It’s … never-ending,’ said Flora.
‘Like a waterfall in spring,’ added Mohsen.
‘That’s a beautiful description, thank you, Mohsen,’ said Wogan, still weeing.
‘My pleasure,’ said Mohsen.
‘Can you PLEASE just finish?’ said Charlie.
Finally – FINALLY – the wee finished. Mohsen’s sandwich box was full to the brim.
Mohsen looked at it and shook his head. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to tell my mum.’
‘OK,’ said Wogan, ‘I know we’re still stuck in a lift and the police are probably about to come, and we are all going to get arrested, and the plan will have failed, and we’ll all go to jail, and the only person to come to visit us will be Dylan just to laugh at us, but I’ll tell you one thing: I feel a LOT better after that wee. Wow. SUCH a relief. Thanks, Moh. Say sorry to your mum for me.’
Wogan was right, thought Charlie. The police probably were on their way. The plan would fail. They’d all get arrested and it would be Charlie’s fault. His parents would have to sell the house. He’d have to move. He’d lose his friends. And if he was in prison, there’d be no way to hide his changing.
And that was all it took.
‘Guys! I’m changing!’
They all swung round to look at Charlie.
He could feel the electricity hitting him hard.
Flora’s eyes widened. ‘Try to stop it, Charlie!’
But it was all too much – the background worry of the house, and the now-worry of being stuck in the lift. There was no stopping it this time. It was like a raging forest fire rampaging through him. He was going to change – and it was going to happen in this tiny lift.
‘I can’t. W-what …’ Charlie managed to stammer. ‘What happens if I change into something big?’
Flora, Wogan and Mohsen gulped and pushed themselves back against the sides of the lift. If Charlie changed into an elephant, for instance, they were all finished. They’d be squished completely.
They held their breath as they watched, terrified.
The electricity was tearing through Charlie now. He felt like he was being turned inside out.
His arms were shrinking.
So were his legs.
And so was the rest of him.
He wasn’t growing bigger!
He was getting smaller!
If Charlie wasn’t busy turning from a boy into an animal, he would have breathed a huge sigh of relief.
He was definitely getting smaller. And scalier.
His legs and arms had gone.
He was small now.
Very small.
He had … fins?
‘Look!’ said Mohsen. ‘He’s a goldfish!’
I’m a goldfish, thought Charlie. Well, that’s just marvellous.fn1 Of all the useless animals to turn into. A goldfish.
He lay on the floor of the lift, flapping slightly, his mouth opening and closing slowly.
Well, this is just fan-flipping-tastic.fn2
Wogan leaned over Charlie the goldfish. ‘Can you hear us, Charlie?’
Charlie flapped his tail to say, Yes, I can. I can hear you.
Wogan stood back up. ‘Is he OK?’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Flora.
‘Well, he’s a fish. And he’s on the floor of a lift. No water. Can he breathe?’
Flora, Wogan and Mohsen looked at each other nervously.
‘That’s a good point,’ said Mohsen.
I’m fine, Charlie flapped. Really.
‘Look, his flapping is getting worse!’ said Mohsen.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Flora cried. ‘You’re right! He’s struggling to breathe! Poor Charlie!’
I’m FINE, Charlie flapped. He felt a little dry, and a little short of breath, but he was mostly OK.
‘Is there a chance,’ Wogan said, looking stricken, ‘that if we are stuck in here without water, Charlie could … die?’
Silence hit the lift, apart from the tiny sound of Charlie opening and closing his mouth, desperately trying to say ‘Guys, don’t worry, I’ll be fine!’
‘I had a goldfish once,’ said Mohsen. ‘He flipped himself out of his bowl when we were out shopping. When we got home he was lying on the floor. Dried-out. And dead.’
‘OK,’ said Flora. ‘Does anybody have ANY water on them?’
Mohsen shook his head. ‘Wogan drank it all when he arrived.’
‘Gah!’ said Flora, frustrated. ‘Of course he did. That’s why he needed a wee so badly. Oh! There must be something in here! If only we had a … container … full of liquid.’ Her eyes flicked to the corner of the lift.
No, thought Charlie.
Flora was eyeing the box of yellow liquid that a couple of minutes ago had been shooting out of Wogan.
No, thought Charlie. Anything but that!
Wogan and Mohsen finally realized what Flora was thinking.
‘You want to put Charlie in the sandwich box of Wogan’s wee?’ asked Mohsen in amazement.
No, no, no! flapped Charlie, panicking. Noooo!
‘We don’t have a choice!’ said Flora. ‘Look how much he’s flapping! He can’t breathe!’
I’m fine! Charlie flapped desperately. And then he stopped flapping to show just how fine he was.
‘Oh, look!’ cried Flora. ‘He’s stopped flapping! He’s dying! Quickly! We need to do it now!’
Wogan kneeled down and very gently picked Charlie up by the tail, and carried him over to the sandwich box.
Charlie started flapping again in a panic.
No! Don’t do it! DO NOT PUT ME IN THE WEE!
‘Do it,’ said Flora gravely.
NOOOOOOOOOOOO! flapped Charlie, suspended above the wee.
And then Wogan dropped him.
Charlie soared through the air for a second, and then landed in the single worst warm bath he had ever had.
It’s impossible to describe Charlie’s feelings as he swam around in his best friend’s wee.
‘He actually looks like he’s enjoying himself in there,’ said Wogan.
This was the most extremely wrong thing that anybody had ever said in the whole history of humans saying wrong things.
This, thought Charlie, trying to hold his breath, is the ACTUAL, ACTUAL worst. Nothing will ever, ever, ever, EVER be worse than this.
‘You’re right,’ said Mohsen. ‘He seems to be swimming around quite happily.’
This was the second most wrong thing that anybody had ever said in the whole history of humans saying wrong things.
When I get out of this, thought Charlie, I’m going to –
But no, Charlie realized. He had
more urgent things to think about. And the number-one thing was getting out of this box. He had to change back. And that meant relaxing – no matter how hard it was to relax swimming around in Wogan’s wee.
Charlie couldn’t close his eyes because he didn’t have any eyelids, and he couldn’t breathe really deeply, because he was surrounded by wee, so he just had to concentrate on thinking happy, relaxing thoughts: finding out his brother was well again … going to Disneyland Paris two summers ago with his family … playing with his friends …
And then he felt, with the hugest sense of relief, electricity surging through his body again. Charlie felt like he was being squeezed through an infinitely coiling tube that went from one side of the universe and back again.
A moment later, Charlie the boy was back, standing in the corner of the lift, one foot in the sandwich box and drenched from head to toe in wee.
A look of wild, thunderous fury on Charlie’s face dared anybody to say a word to him. They didn’t.
‘WHY,’ shouted Charlie, ‘WHY WOULD … WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?’
Flora had the face of a nervous mouse. ‘We just thought –’
‘DON’T. JUST. DO. NOT. EVER.’
Flora, Wogan and Mohsen stood terrified and silent. The noise of Charlie’s dripping clothes seemed to echo in the lift.
‘NO ONE IS EVER – EVER – TO MENTION THIS AGAIN. DO YOU ALL UNDERSTAND?’
The three friends all nodded in terror.
‘THIS NEVER HAPPENED, CORRECT?’
They nodded again.
And then, with a sudden whirr and a clunk, the lift started working again.
‘That’s odd,’ said Flora with a hint of concern in her voice. ‘Why would the lift just start working again all by itself? Something’s not right.’
No one had an answer to that mystery, but they were all very glad the lift was working again and that there was now something to distract Charlie from his wee-soaked hair and clothes.
A moment later, the lift pinged and the doors slid open.
Flora poked her head out of the lift and looked both ways. ‘All clear. Which way, Wogan?’
Wogan squinted at his map. ‘I’m not sure. Charlie splashed some of my wee on the map, and it’s all a bit blurry now. But I think it’s left.’
