Alfie the Werewolf 2: Full Moon

by Paul van Loon

  21

  Sneaking

  After breakfast they were allowed outside to play. Later they were going to visit a windmill.

  Alfie already knew what he had to do: he had to sneak into the forest to look for his clothes. If only Tim had been there. He would have helped him, but now he had to do it alone. At least he knew more or less where they were.

  In his pocket he had a folded plastic bag to put his clothes in. Now all he had to do was slip away without anyone noticing. Some of the boys were playing football. Others were climbing trees or just running around. The girls were still in their dorm. Noura was probably comforting Rose.

  Noura was so sweet, she was always helpful and kind to everyone. A really nice girl, thought Alfie, but I mustn’t let her find out that I’m a werewolf. That would be a disaster, because she thinks werewolves are horrific.

  He looked around and saw that no one was paying him any attention. Quickly he shot off into the bushes.

  Noura came out of the door just in time to see someone disappearing into the bushes. Hey, she thought, that looks like Alfie. Where’s he going?

  The other girls came out too. Except for Rose, of course, she was being punished and sitting inside sulking.

  ‘Noura, you playing?’ called Natasha.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Football with the boys.’

  Noura thought for a moment. There was still no sign of Alfie. Then she shook her head. ‘No, I don’t feel like it.’

  ‘OK,’ Natasha shouted.

  Screaming and yelling, the girls stormed over to the boys and tried to steal the ball off them. Mr French and Miss James joined in too. Miss James wasn’t very good at it. Quite often, when she went for the ball, she kicked Mr French instead.

  ‘Ow!’ roared Mr French, after she got him on the shin for the third time. ‘Can’t you be a bit careful? Or are you doing it on purpose?’

  Miss James smiled. ‘Not at all. What makes you say that?’

  Noura stood there watching for a while. I wonder where Alfie’s got to, she thought. He acts a bit strange sometimes. It’s as if he’s got something to hide. But what? And why would he go into the forest all by himself? What if he got lost?

  Noura thought for a moment, then made up her mind. I’ll go and look for him, she decided. She glanced back at the others as the ball whizzed through the air. Miss James kicked Mr French in the calf muscle. ‘Oh, sorry, Roger. I really was going for the ball.’

  Mr French grabbed his leg. ‘The ball is over there, near Diane!’ he shouted. ‘Are you blind or what?’ He limped off angrily. Miss James didn’t say a word and smiled to herself.

  ‘Maybe you’re the one who’s blind, Roger,’ she whispered.

  Seeing that no one was looking in her direction, Noura quickly slipped into the bushes and walked into the forest to look for Alfie. Mr French saw Noura leaving and scratched his head. ‘Um, I’m not playing any more,’ he called.

  ‘Oh, Roger, don’t be such a spoilsport,’ Miss James said. ‘It won’t be half as much fun without you.’

  The ball rolled towards her. Miss James took aim and gave the ball an almighty wallop.

  ‘Goal!’ screamed Vincent.

  For a moment Mr French gaped disbelievingly at Miss James. She winked at him. ‘You going to keep playing or not?’

  Mr French gave a wry smile. ‘Thanks, but I’ve got enough bruises as it is. You carry on without me. There’s something I have to do.’ He turned around quickly and limped off after Noura.

  22

  Cough

  Alfie hurried along the path through the forest. I mustn’t stay away too long, he thought. Otherwise they’ll notice I’m gone. All of a sudden he heard a strange coughing noise and stood still. Was there someone else in the forest? He looked around. Leaves rustled softly in the breeze and a squirrel ran away on a branch.

  Alfie burst out laughing. It was that squirrel, he thought, quickly walking on.

  ‘Do squirrels cough like people?’ the voice in his head asked.

  ‘Of course not, don’t be an idiot,’ Alfie mumbled. ‘No one coughed. That was just the wind, or a crow with a sore throat or something.’

  ‘Oh!’ the voice in his head said. ‘I thought it was a suspicious cough!’

  But Alfie had decided to ignore the voice.

  A bit further along, he saw something red in the undergrowth. ‘Yes, look, there they are.’ Shirt, jeans, socks, shoes. His coat was inside out and caught on a bush. His shirt was torn. In his thoughts he heard Tim’s mother saying, ‘Messy, messy. Always fold your clothes up neatly, Alfie. And try not to burst out of them when you turn into a werewolf.’

  He pulled the plastic bag out of his pocket and quickly gathered up the clothes, putting all of them in the bag, except for the coat, which he put on.

  And now back to the farm, thought Alfie.

  Behind him, someone coughed. Alfie jumped.

  ‘That’s a suspicious cough,’ said the voice in his head.

  Very slowly Alfie turned around and found himself looking straight at a strange face. A boy was crouched half hidden in the bushes. Tall and skinny. A pointy face. Cropped hair. Big ears. His eyebrows joined together to form one thick, continuous stripe. The boy was at least two heads taller than Alfie and he looked a lot older too. Maybe sixteen or even seventeen.

  The soup thief! was Alfie’s first thought. The nosy parker who had peered in through the window.

  The boy studied Alfie carefully. He held his head to one side and sniffed, puckering up his nose to do it. It was more snuffling than sniffing.

  ‘What youse be looking for?’

  Alfie looked at the boy in surprise.

  ‘I, um, I was just looking for my clothes. They were here.’ He gestured at the plastic bag and picked it up cautiously. ‘I …’

  The boy came out of the bushes and pointed at Alfie with an outstretched arm. The nail of his index finger was long and sharp. Alfie could see dirt under the fingernail. All of his nails had thick black edges as if he’d been digging in the mud.

  The boy actually looked dirty all over. His clothes were covered with sand, twigs and thistles. His coat and trousers looked as if they had exploded and been stuck back together with thread, string, staples, safety pins and sticky tape. It was an astonishing sight.

  ‘Leo’s knowing what youse be!’ the boy said. ‘Leo’s smelling it the first time he seed you. Leo smells it he does, with his snozzler.’

  Again the boy snuffled so hard that funny-looking wrinkles appeared on his nose, but Alfie didn’t laugh.

  The boy approached him menacingly. ‘Leo be firster in this forest. Lots firsterer than you. Leo’s wanting you goners from here.’

  Alfie stepped back. He didn’t understand. Who was this Leo the boy was talking about? And why did Leo want him to go away. If only Tim was here.

  The boy came even closer, growled and bared his teeth. Then he patted himself on the chest. ‘Leo be firster here.’

  Oh, he’s called Leo himself, thought Alfie. What a nutcase!

  ‘Gets!’ Leo shouted. ‘And quicks-a-daisies, or Leo’s biting you!’ With a growl, he leapt forward. Alfie screamed.

  23

  Confused

  ‘Hey, Alfie, there you are!’

  Surprised, Alfie turned around. Noura was standing there and behind her stood Mr French. Alfie looked back at Leo, but Leo wasn’t there any more. He’d disappeared as suddenly as if he had dissolved into thin air. Only the bushes were moving. Alfie turned his head left and right with a dazed look in his eyes. How had he done that?

  ‘Are you OK, Alfie?’ Mr French asked.

  Alfie gave an absent-minded nod. ‘Yes, I’s fine. I mean, I’m fine. I thought that Leo …’

  Mr French looked at Alfie thoughtfully. ‘Leo? Who’s Leo?’

  Alfie shook his head. ‘I … I don’t know. There was someone here a minute ago. Someone called Leo. At least I thought there was. But I was wrong, I think.’

  Noura took him by
the arm. ‘Poor Alfie. What are you doing walking around here by yourself with that plastic bag?’ She looked in the bag. ‘There are clothes in here! What are they for? Are you going somewhere?’

  Oh, no! What am I supposed to say now, thought Alfie. ‘Uh, just … spare clothes, in case I get dirty.’

  Mr French looked at Noura. ‘It seems to me Alfie is a bit confused. I’m glad you realized, Noura. And fortunately I was able to catch up to you. Come on, Alfie, let’s go back. I’d rather not have my kids wandering around the forest alone.’

  Noura took Alfie by the hand. It made him feel warm inside, but he felt a bit sad too. If Noura knew I was a werewolf, she wouldn’t take me by the hand, he thought. Noura gave his hand a little squeeze and smiled at him. Luckily, she doesn’t know, thought Alfie.

  ‘We’re going to an old mill soon,’ said Mr French. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. There’s a bakery attached to the mill. They’re going to let you make your own bread. Won’t that be fun?’

  Alfie nodded vaguely. He was thinking about Leo. What a strange boy. Why did he want to bite me? It’s weird, but there was something familiar about him. Maybe that’s why I didn’t say anything to Mr French. Alfie shook his head. He didn’t understand it at all. Suddenly he remembered something else. ‘Sir, there’s something I wanted to ask you.’

  Mr French looked back.

  ‘Can Rose come to the bakery with us? I know she’s a pain sometimes, but I still feel sorry for her if she—’

  Mr French smiled. ‘I really wasn’t going to leave her behind all by herself, Alfie. But it’s nice of you to think of her.’

  Up in a tree, hidden by the leaves, sat the soup thief. He watched the teacher and the children walk off, then used his nails to gouge deep lines in the bark. He picked a beetle out of a crack, held it up in the air and dropped it into his mouth. ‘Leo be firster here,’ he growled.

  24

  A Poor Old Man

  Tim walked through the gate and into Green Park. It was quiet. The ducks were asleep on the water and the benches were empty. The mothers with prams had all gone home. The sun had almost set and it was getting dark.

  Maybe I’ll find him now, Tim thought, starting to feel a little dejected. He’d been searching for Grandpa Werewolf all day. He’d looked on all the streets and down all the lanes. He’d already been to Green Park twice, first in the morning and again in the afternoon.

  It was in Green Park that Alfie had met his grandfather for the first time, but Tim was out of luck now. There was no sign of Alfie’s grandpa. None, nothing, nada. Grandpa Werewolf lived faraway in a forest, where he was a wolf day and night. That was something that only very old werewolves could do, but although he had decided never to become human again, he sometimes missed the human world. Then he would put on his human clothes – a long coat, black gloves and a black hat – pull on boots and go into town for a few days. His favourite place was Green Park. It had lots of trees and bushes.

  Grandpa Werewolf liked to watch people and, hidden in the bushes, he could relax for hours at a time, knowing he wouldn’t frighten anyone. No one saw him. He made sure of that.

  Alfie was the only person he had revealed himself to. Later he had got to know Tim and his parents as well.

  But now I can’t find him anywhere, thought Tim, just when I need him most. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. His skin was glowing, but at the same time he was getting cold shivers every now and then. Tim knew what that meant. He was still running a temperature. He should be home in bed.

  Not yet! he thought. Just a little bit longer. If I find Grandpa Werewolf, everything will turn out fine. He’ll take care of Alfie and then nothing will go wrong. But where is he?

  ‘Grandpa!’ he called. ‘Grandpa Werewolf, are you here? I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.’ His voice boomed out across the silent park. All he heard in reply was the plaintive cry of a distant peacock. There was nobody else around. A duck took off with a flutter of wings. Tim stuck his hands deep into his pockets and shrugged. He was wasting his time. Grandpa Werewolf wasn’t here. He was probably miles away in his own forest waiting for the full moon to rise.

  Feeling miserable, Tim trudged towards the park exit. Alfie would have to manage by himself. There was no way round it. Tim felt his legs getting weaker by the second. He was boiling hot and freezing cold by turns. Now I have to try to make it home, he thought.

  ‘Pssst … Hey, kid!’

  Tim looked back in surprise. A man in a baggy coat was coming towards him. He was wearing a hat with a floppy brim.

  Tim’s heart leapt.

  ‘Grandpa W—’

  A horrible smell of booze wafted towards him. It wasn’t Grandpa Werewolf at all. The eyes gleaming under the brim of the hat were completely different. Only now did Tim see the bottle sticking out of the coat pocket.

  The man burped and grinned. ‘So, sonny. You’ve got some money for a poor old man, haven’t you?’ He held out his hand.

  Tim shrank away from him. ‘I haven’t got anything, leave me alone.’ He started feeling dizzy. The man’s face came closer. Tim saw stubble and stumpy yellow teeth.

  ‘Now now, you can be friendlier than that,’ the man said. ‘Have a look in your wallet. I’m sure you’ve got something to spare.’

  His hand, as bony as a bird’s claw, shot out and grabbed Tim by the shoulder.

  ‘Let go!’ Tim screamed. His legs had turned to spaghetti. The world was spinning. He could still smell the stinking booze and it was making him feel sick.

  Then he heard an angry growl as something dark rushed down the path. The ducks started quacking loudly and Tim saw the man suddenly lift up off the ground.

  25

  Grandpa Werewolf

  Tim could hardly believe his tired eyes. The strange man was being lifted up into the air. For a moment he looked like a propeller with his arms and legs swinging. Then he flew over the path and landed with a splash in the pond. That was the final straw for the ducks, who flew off, quacking angrily.

  Tim found it hard to stay standing. The sky, the trees, the park, everything was spinning. The path was moving up and down as if Tim was standing on the deck of a ship. He saw the dark figure rocking back and forth in front of him on the path. The figure was leaning on a walking stick and now bent forward.

  ‘Are you all right, Tim?’

  Tim recognized the voice. The harsh sound. The raspy breathing. ‘Grandpa Werewolf?’ The next instant he collapsed.

  The last thing he saw was a glimpse of the black wolf’s head under the hat. Shining teeth. Gleaming eyes. Then nothing.

  Tim’s father was watching TV. He was wearing the wolf mask from the fancy-dress shop and the elephant tea cosy was on top of the TV. Sometimes I miss that tea cosy, he thought. It really was a lot more comfortable than this wolf mask. But I’m doing it for Alfie. I want to know how he feels when he’s a werewolf. Maybe I’ll understand it even better if I …

  Dad slid down off the sofa, put his hands on the floor and started to crawl around the room. He sniffed the chairs, the table and the sofa. With his nose just above the carpet, he snuffled his way around the whole room until suddenly he bumped into a shoe. In the shoe there was a leg. Dad’s eyes travelled up. Jeans. A jumper. A face.

  Mum looked down at him from above. ‘What are you doing now?’

  ‘Wrow! I mean: I’m trying to be a werewolf. Like Alfie, see? So I’ll know how he feels at full moon.’

  Mum shook her head. ‘That’s very sweet of you. As long as you don’t pee on the table leg! But to be honest, honey, you don’t look very much like a wolf.’

  ‘Really?’ Dad’s voice sounded sad and Mum realized that she had hurt his feelings. He was very sensitive.

  ‘Well, a little bit,’ she said. ‘But have you heard from Tim? It’s already dark.’

  ‘He was home for a while, then he went out again. The poor boy couldn’t relax. He had to find Grandpa Werewolf, he said.’

  Just then the doorbell rang.
/>   ‘Ah, that’ll be him!’ Mum walked into the hall and opened the front door, but immediately stepped back.

  ‘Tim!’ she said in a shocked voice. Her son was lying slumped in the arms of a dark figure in a black hat.

  26

  Not Safe

  ‘Grandpa Werewolf! What happened? Come in, quickly.’

  Grandpa Werewolf stepped into the house and carried Tim to the living room. ‘Don’t worry,’ he growled. ‘It’s nothing serious. Tim has to go to bed, that’s all.’ He laid Tim on the sofa, then turned back to Mum with a stern expression. ‘But why was he out looking for me when he has a temperature? Why was he calling my name in the park?’

  He looked at Dad, who was just crawling out from under the table. ‘And why is your husband wearing that funny-looking wolf mask?’

  Dad held his head to one side for a moment and growled softly. ‘I’m trying to be a werewolf,’ he said with pride.

  ‘Well, don’t,’ Grandpa Werewolf grunted. ‘You look like an idiot. You only become a werewolf if it’s in the family. Or if you get bitten by a real werewolf.’

  Dad took off the wolf mask and sat there crestfallen. His face was bright red and sweaty and his hair was sopping wet.

  ‘I was doing it for Alfie,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Ah, Alfie!’ Grandpa cried. ‘Where is my favourite grandson? I want to take him to the woods to run wild together. It’s full moon tonight, so—’

  ‘That’s why we were looking for you,’ Mum said. ‘Alfie is already in the forest. With school. We wanted to ask if you could keep an eye out for him.’

  Grandpa Werewolf sat down. He clamped the walking stick between his legs and laid his hat on his knee. Dad stared at Grandpa’s black wolf’s head jealously. Oh, if only I had a head like that, Dad thought, instead of this mask. Then I might feel like a real werewolf. He hurled the wolf mask into the corner of the room. Maybe Grandpa will bite me if I ask him to, he thought. Then I’d turn into a real werewolf. That would be fantastic. He coughed quietly.