Monstrous Maud: Spooky Sports Day

by A. B. Saddlewick

  After dinner that evening, Maud sat on the stairs under the long diagonal row of Montague family portraits. Quentin stuck his front legs over the hem of her pocket and looked up at her with his tiny black eyes.

  Maud stroked his head and sighed. “What do you think, Quentin? Maybe I should just pretend we asked Primrose Towers if we could use their playing field, and that they said no.”

  Quentin looked up at the portrait of Maud’s great-aunt Ethel that was hanging above them and trembled.

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Maud. “I promised I’d ask, so I’ve got to do it.”

  Maud got up and went down to the living room, where her mum was reading a book about costume design called Theatrical Threads.

  “Mum, could you do me a favour?” asked Maud.

  “What is it, dear?” asked Mrs Montague.

  “Could you ring Mrs Fennel at Primrose Towers and ask if we can use their playing field for our sports day?”

  “Why can’t you hold it at your school?” asked Mrs Montague.

  “We’ve got some, er ... weeds growing on our field,” said Maud.

  Milly barged in. Maud might have known she couldn’t mention Primrose Towers without her twin sister’s ears pricking up.

  “You can’t use our playing field!” she shouted. “We’ve got our own sports day this week. It’s on Saturday. I’ve been chosen for the backwards running race, because it’s the most difficult event of all.”

  “We could have ours on Friday,” said Maud. “That way everyone would get to have a sports day.”

  “That sounds fair,” said Mrs Montague. “I’ll ask Mrs Fennel what she thinks.”

  Milly glared at Maud as their mum walked out of the room to get her phone.

  “You just want to bring your weird Rotwood friends to my school, don’t you?” said Milly. “So they can mess everything up.”

  “No,” said Maud. In fact, she’d much rather be keeping the Rotwood monsters and Primrose Towers girls apart, for both their sakes.

  Mrs Montague came back into the room. “That’s settled then,” she said. “Mrs Fennel says that the Rotwood students are welcome to use the playing fields on Friday, and Primrose Towers can go ahead with their sports day on Saturday.”

  “Thanks,” said Maud, while Milly groaned and rolled her eyes. Maud knew how she felt. It wasn’t as if she wanted their sports day to be held at Primrose Towers either.

  Afterwards, Maud took Quentin back to his cage in the garage for an evening treat of milk and crisps.

  “I wish I was as carefree as you,” she said, filling his bowl.

  Just as she said this, Quentin heard the distant meow of a cat and scuttled to the back of his cage, curling into a ball.

  “Well, maybe a little more carefree than you,” said Maud. “But at least you don’t have to pretend to be a scary monster called a Tutu all the time, when you’re really just an ordinary girl. And at least you don’t end up upsetting everyone when you try to help them.”

  Maud thought about how miserable Paprika had looked when he realised sports day was back on. She was going to have to do something about that, and fast. Sports day was on Friday, and today was Tuesday. That meant she had two days to turn Paprika into a decent sportsman.

  Well, she had to try at least.

  The next day 3B and 2C had Monsterball practice again. They were having extra PE lessons every afternoon until sports day, so Fright Classes were cancelled for the week.

  The playing field was still out of bounds because of the plant infestation. Mr Quasimodo had tried attacking the plants with his lawnmower, but they’d eaten it and he’d had to flee for his own safety.

  So, instead, they were practising in the main hall. They pushed the pews to the side, but it still didn’t make much of a pitch. It was just too cramped and dim, with the only light coming from the high windows and the flickering candelabras at the front of the hall.

  Even so, Maud managed to enjoy it. She was really getting the hang of Monsterball now, and found herself weaving in and out of Class 2C’s defenders with ease, as Quentin clung on to her shoulder. Penelope hadn’t bothered her all game, which she thought was a little odd. At one point Maud was sure she’d even smiled at her. She must have been imagining it.

  Odder still was the fact that Penelope hadn’t picked on Paprika once, even though he missed Mr Galahad’s head every single time it was passed to him. He had even run into his own teammates twice. If Maud was honest, she’d have to say that the team would be better off without him playing at all.

  At one point, Wilf passed to Paprika when he was just a couple of metres away from the goal. For once, Paprika managed to catch the head. Maud couldn’t believe it – he was certain to score from there! But Paprika launched the helmeted head in the wrong direction, and it crashed into a candlestick at the front of the hall. It toppled over, splattering wax everywhere.

  “Never mind, let’s move on to Stag-beetle-jousting instead,” said Mr Galahad.

  Maud had always rather liked beetles. She’d even tried to keep one as a pet in a jar under her bed until Milly had told their mum, and she’d been forced to throw it away. But she’d never heard of beetle jousting.

  Mr Galahad led them out to the east side of the school, past Mr Quasimodo. The caretaker was on the highest rung of his ladder, furiously chopping down thorny vines into a huge pile below.

  “I’m really sorry about all the extra work, Mr Quasimodo!” Maud called up.

  The caretaker glared at her and went on with his pruning.

  Fifty metres along a forest track, partly hidden from the school, five slimy-looking cave mouths gaped from a rock face. Maud had never been to this part of the forest before. Mr Galahad went up to the first cave and whistled. Maud could hear the sound of shuffling legs echoing around the deep cave, until eventually a large pair of horns emerged from the shadows. A moment later, a beetle the size of a pony lumbered out.

  Maud blinked and rubbed her eyes, but when she lowered her hands, the enormous beetle was still there. Quentin leapt straight into her pocket, leaving just his pink tail sticking out of the top. Maud felt like running away too, but she didn’t want anyone to see she was frightened.

  “Right, Montague,” said Mr Galahad. “You can ride Perky. He’s in the third cave along. Off you trot!”

  Maud had no choice but to approach the dark entrance. She tiptoed closer, and began to make out a huge shadowy form inside the cave.

  “Here, boy,” she said, telling herself that the beetle was just a pet like any other. He trundled out and brushed his antlers against her. They felt hard and slippery, like her gran’s polished mahogany dining table. Maud forced herself to smile and pet the antlers. “That’s right,” she said. “There’s a good boy.”

  Perky crouched down to let Maud on. Even when he was stooping towards her, the beetle came up to her chest, and it took her a couple of attempts to scramble on to his hard back.

  When Maud had finally mounted the creature, she picked up the reins that were tied around his neck and squeezed his flanks with her legs. He lurched forward so jerkily that Maud thought she might slip off, but she managed to keep her balance and steer him round to the front of the school, where the rest of the class were lining up in two rows facing each other.

  Next to her, Paprika was struggling to keep his beetle under control.

  “What are the rules?” asked Maud.

  “Same as any other beetle joust,” said Paprika. “You just ride your beetle towards the opposite person and knock them off with its antlers.”

  “Sounds fun,” said Maud, uncertainly.

  “Not really,” shrugged Paprika. “It’s not as much fun as Monsterball.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m not as good at this.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Maud. “I mean, never mind. I’m sure you’ll be all right.”

  Maud looked across at the opposite row. Her opponent was Oscar, a boy from her class who wore a ruff, doublet and hose. Li
ke Mr Galahad, he had a detachable head – but he was using both hands to hold on to the reins, so he’d had to leave it on the ground. Maud reckoned she had a fairly good chance against an opponent who couldn’t see where he was going. Unfortunately, Paprika was opposite Wilf’s gigantic werewolf brother Warren, so his chances of winning were pretty much zero.

  Mr Galahad blew the whistle, and the jousting began.

  Maud squeezed Perky’s flanks and felt the beetle jolt beneath her as he charged ahead. She glanced back to see how Paprika was doing. He’d already managed to fall off his beetle before getting anywhere near Warren, and he was now flailing around on the floor while his beetle prodded him with its antlers. It looked as if the beetle just wanted to play, but even so, it was in danger of crushing the poor vampire.

  Maud pulled hard on Perky’s rein, forcing him to turn back in the opposite direction. There were angry shouts as she weaved in and out of the other jousters, desperate to get to Paprika and save him from his peckish beetle.

  “Shoo,” Maud shouted. “Bad beetle!”

  “Careful!” shouted Mr Galahad. “He doesn’t understand you, Montague.”

  But Paprika’s beetle looked up at Maud’s words, tilting its head to one side as if it was listening.

  “There, there, Mr Beetle,” said Maud. She came up alongside and stroked its horns. “I don’t think poor Paprika wants to play with you. So run along now.”

  The beetle moved its head up and down as if it was nodding, and then, without warning, set off at a run. Paprika was still clinging on to the reins, and the beetle dragged him across the ground for several metres before he thought to let go.

  “That’s not what I meant,” called Maud, but it was too late. Paprika’s beetle panicked all the other ones as it went, and they careered off in different directions.

  One of the beetles ran right up against the side of the school, brushing past the ladder propped up there. It wobbled back and forth for a couple of seconds before crashing down to the ground. Mr Quasimodo plunged into a pile of thorny cuttings.

  The caretaker got up and waved his shears in the air. His gaze fell on Maud and he growled ferociously.

  “Yes, well, I think that’s quite enough jousting for today,” said Mr Galahad. “I suppose we’d better evacuate the area until Mr Quasimodo has had time to clear it. Let’s make our way over to the obstacle course in an orderly fashion.”

  Wilf howled with delight.

  “Is the obstacle course a bit easier?” asked Maud.

  “No,” said Wilf. “It’s the hardest event of all. But I love it. It’s totally monstrous. After all, sports day is all about challenging yourself, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so,” said Maud, though she wasn’t convinced.

  Mr Galahad rounded up all the stag beetles and herded them back into their caves. Perky seemed reluctant to leave Maud. “Don’t worry,” Maud told the beetle. “I’ll come and visit you again.” Perky rubbed his horns against her side before lumbering back to his cave.

  When all the beetles were safely put away, Mr Galahad led the class deeper into the forest beyond. Above Maud, long branches entwined so tightly that she could barely see the sky. Thick black leaves crunched underfoot as they made their way down the path towards the course.

  Soon they saw a sign:

  “Are you sure this is safe?” asked Maud.

  “Of course, young’un,” said Mr Galahad. “We only lost two students last year, a school record, no less!”

  There was only space for six pupils to compete at a time and Maud was placed in the second group with Wilf. Paprika was in the first group, and Maud watched as they raced off into the murky forest. Soon they were out of sight, but she could hear screams coming from their direction. Maud hoped they were screams of excitement.

  Mr Galahad blew his whistle and Maud’s group set off. At first the course seemed to be nothing more than a straight path through the woods, and she couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Then her foot hit something and she tripped, tumbling to the ground. As she scrambled back to her feet, hundreds of tiny money spiders showered down into her hair. Well, she thought, stopping to pick them out one by one. At least they’ll bring me good luck.

  Wilf ran past, shouting, “I can’t believe you fell for the old spider trap. Don’t you know anything?”

  Maud looked back at the course and saw that she’d actually fallen over a tripwire that had been attached to a net in the tree above. She’d have to be more careful from now on.

  A few moments later, she was racing towards a pile of leaves that had been swept into the middle of the path. But as she got closer, a gust of wind blew through the leaves, and Maud caught a glimpse of the wood of a trapdoor below them. Heart pounding, she jumped over the pile, trying not to think about what might be underneath it.

  Maud was exhausted now, but the course wasn’t over yet. She turned a corner to find a narrow plank over a pond of bubbling green goo that smelled of rotten fish. She edged along the plank, concentrating on her steps rather than on the repulsive stench. Even when she saw a sticky purple tentacle emerge from the pond, she just ignored it and kept going until she was safely across.

  After that, Maud had to climb up a wall covered in black slime and crash down into a muddy ditch on the other side. She was exhausted, and she’d finished last in her group. But at least she hadn’t lost a limb – or worse.

  Maud stood up and scanned for Paprika to check he was all right. Everyone else from his group was sitting on the ground and getting their breath back, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Just then, Maud heard a loud splash and a familiar cry. She ran back, past the wall and all the way to the pond, where she saw that Paprika had tripped over his cape and fallen into the swirling goo.

  As she raced up to him, Paprika dragged himself out of the stinky pond. He looked pretty shaken.

  “Are you okay?” asked Maud.

  “I’m fine,” said Paprika. “Totally monstrous.” Though he didn’t sound it.

  Maud could hear the gloop squelching inside Paprika’s shoes as they walked back to the rest of the class, around the wall and the ditch. A few pupils sniggered when they saw him, but most of them looked concerned. Maud kept expecting Penelope to shout out something spiteful, but when she looked around, she noticed the witch wasn’t even there. Maybe she was still completing the course. But when the last few pupils plopped over the top of the slime wall, she wasn’t with them.

  What was Penelope playing at?

  Maud tried not to breathe in.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said. Maud was sitting on a mossy grave in the playground with Paprika, who still stank, but was trying to dry out his cape in the sun. “It doesn’t matter if you aren’t the best at sports. There are other things you’re good at.”

  She tried to think of some examples. He was quite good at changing into a bat, but then, all vampires could do that. It would be a bit like telling a human they were good at breathing.

  “Are you worried about your dad?” asked Maud. “Do you think he’ll be cross if you don’t do well on sports day?”

  “No, he wouldn’t particularly care,” said Paprika. “It’s Mum I’m worried about.”

  That made sense. At the end of her first week of Rotwood, Maud had discovered that Paprika’s dad, Mr Von Bat, wasn’t a real vampire. He was just a human who was pretending to be one so he could keep teaching at the monster school. But Paprika’s mum was a genuine vampire, and Maud guessed she could be pretty fearsome.

  “I’m sure your mum will be pleased as long as you try your best,” said Maud.

  “No, she won’t,” he said. “She always says that trying your best isn’t good enough. It’s like when I was learning to fly. I tried and tried, but I just couldn’t do it. In the end, she lost patience and threw me out of the upstairs window. Luckily I landed in a bush.”

  “Surely she wouldn’t take sports day so seriously,” said Maud.

  “Yes, she will,�
�� said Paprika. “She’ll go ballistic if I don’t win a medal. ‘Fangs come first’, that’s what she always says. She thinks witches and werewolves are inferior, so I’ll be in trouble if I get beaten by Penelope or Warren.”

  No wonder Paprika was so worried about sports day. Maud was starting to feel guilty about saving it again.

  “I know!” she said. “I’ll help you train for a medal. And I’ll get Wilf involved too. He loves sports and he’s completely monstrous at most of them, so I bet he’ll show you how to win.”

  “Really?” said Paprika.

  “Really,” said Maud.

  Paprika smiled at last.

  On her way back to class, Quentin stuck his nose out of Maud’s pocket and sniffed.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  The rat slipped out of her blazer, scampered down her skirt, and leapt on to the floor. He threw a quick glance back at Maud and scurried down the corridor.

  Where’s he going? Maud wondered, running after him. Quentin paused at a corner and peeped around. Maud did the same, and spotted Penelope sneaking down the passage to the Head’s office. That was weird. Penelope was scared of the Head, so what was she doing heading that way? Quentin had a good nose for trouble, so Maud decided to follow the witch and find out.

  She gathered her pet back into her pocket and crept after Penelope.

  The witch knocked on the door of the Head’s office, listened for a few moments and then went inside. Maud followed Penelope, tiptoeing up to the door and putting her ear to it.

  She couldn’t hear much above the din of the cats, but at one point she thought she heard the Head saying, “A swap, that’s right. Perfect.”

  Then Maud heard the phone being slammed down, and footsteps coming over to the door. She tried to sneak back down the corridor, but the door swung open, and Penelope spotted her.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Penelope, her eyes narrowing as she closed the door.