In fact I don’t mind walking Streaker. At least it gets me away from other jobs in the house. Besides, Tina and I usually go together and we scoot off to the big fields at the end of my road. There are some small woods there and a network of paths you can wander along. It’s Streaker’s favourite hunting ground. She goes whizzing off after rabbits and squirrels. Mind you, she’s never caught anything except a few fleas.
I was worrying about Charlie Smugg, or, rather, I was worrying about Sharon’s Lamborghini – the greyhound we had never seen. I was used to Charlie boasting about everything under the sun, but what if Sharon really did have a racing greyhound? A dog that had won medals and everything?
By this time we were heading towards the woods. We’d almost reached them when a tall runner came bursting out from among the trees, took a few steps, stopped dead and checked his watch. Tina stared at him. She nudged me, hard.
‘That’s Kriss Okonjo!’ Tina blurted.
‘I know!’ I hissed back.
‘What’s he doing here?’ she asked.
I gave a helpless shrug. ‘Looking for his trousers?’
‘It’s KRISS OKONJO!’ Tina repeated, as if she might be dreaming, but at that moment the runner looked up and gave a tired grin. He was breathing heavily from all his running.
‘Time check,’ he said, shaking his head at his watch. ‘Got to get faster. Got to get faster.’
‘Are you training here?’ I asked, and Tina’s jaw dropped.
‘You spoke to him! You spoke to KRISS OKONJO!’
Kriss gave Tina a broad smile. ‘And what’s your name, miss?’ he asked.
Tina’s jaw moved, but no sound came out.
‘That’s Tina,’ I explained. ‘I’m Trevor. The big hairy dog is hers. He’s called Mouse. My one’s Streaker. She’s whizzing around here somewhere. If you see ears flapping above the grass, that’ll be her.’ Kriss smiled, so I went on. ‘I thought you’d be training at the running track.’
Kriss scowled and rolled his eyes. ‘Have you seen how many people are down there? It’s full of press photographers and journalists. They keep pestering me with questions. “Hey, Kriss, do you think you can beat Azi Numa? Who do you think is going to win? You or Azi Numa?” Those reporters just keep banging on about our rivalry.’
I knew this was true. I’d seen it on telly. Kriss and Azi had been rivals for a long time, even though they both ran for Britain. Sometimes one won, and sometimes the other, but now they were both up for the big one – international gold. And of course everyone in our town was rooting for our local hero – Kriss Okonjo.
Kriss looked pretty fed up. ‘I came to train in these woods because it’s quieter. I thought the ground out here would help, what with branches sticking out that I have to jump over and puddles to get across. That’s what the steeplechase is all about. It’s supposed to be a bit like a cross-country race, only without the country. It doesn’t seem to be working though. I can’t get my times any faster at all.’
‘Maybe Streaker can help,’ I suggested. ‘She can run really fast. You could hold on to her lead. I bet she’d make you run faster.’
Tina had got her voice back. ‘Are you serious? Streaker can’t help. Kriss is an international runner, not a dog-walker!’
Kriss looked hard at Streaker, who had just turned up and was now sitting very neatly, with her front legs together and her eyes all bright and shiny. She was a picture of helpful innocence. Some people are easily fooled, and Kriss was about to become one of them.
‘Could be worth a go,’ murmured Kriss. ‘I’ll do anything to get my time faster.’ He slipped his watch from his wrist and handed it to me. ‘Here, press this one when I start, and then again when I finish. I need to beat eight minutes and six seconds. Hand me the dog leash.’
Kriss took hold of Streaker’s lead. She jumped to her feet at once, ready for the off. You can always tell she’s ready by the way her tongue waggles from one side of her mouth. I gave them a countdown.
‘Three, two, one – GO!’
Both runners launched themselves down the path. Off they went at lightning speed, with Streaker pulling Kriss behind her. Tina and I watched as they disappeared round the edge of the woods. We sat down by the path and waited, eyes on Kriss’s watch.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ asked Tina.
‘We’ll see when they get back,’ I answered.
She grinned at me. ‘I can’t believe we’re helping Kriss Okonjo!’
‘I don’t suppose he can believe it either. Come to think of it, I can’t believe that Streaker is helping him!’ We burst out laughing.
Two figures appeared on the path coming from town. A shiver ran down my spine. I recognized them at once. ‘Watch out,’ I whispered to Tina. ‘Charlie Smugg and his girlfriend are coming this way.’
Charlie loomed over us, his spotty face grinning from ear to ear. ‘Look who it isn’t. Two little lovebirds.’ He pursed his lips and made kissy-kissy noises at us. He is SO stupid!
‘Ooooh, Charlie!’ squealed Sharon. ‘You are funny!’
Funny? Charlie? He’s about as funny as finding half a slug on your salad.
‘You’re the one with a girlfriend, Charlie,’ Tina said quietly. He ignored her and stood there, gazing around in all directions.
‘Have you seen anyone out here running?’
‘Running?’ I repeated, giving him a blank look. ‘Are you trying to catch someone?’
‘Thought there might be someone out here running, that’s all,’ sniffed Charlie. ‘Anyhow, where’s your crazy dog? Run off again, has she?’ He gave a sneery laugh. ‘Hurr hurr hurr!’
‘You could say that.’ I smiled at him.
Sharon pulled a face and hung on to Charlie’s arm. ‘Charlie, you said we’d get his autograph. You said, Charlie. You promised you’d get his autograph for me.’
Tina brightened up. ‘Actually, come to think of it, we did see someone earlier, and he was running.’
‘Yeah?’
‘It was in the distance. He went that way.’ Tina pointed in the opposite direction to the one Kriss had taken.
‘Right,’ Charlie said, dragging Sharon with him. ‘Come on. Hurry up! What kind of shoes do you call those?’
‘They’re high heels, Charlie. I thought you’d like them.’
‘Just get a move on. Hurry up. We’ll catch up and get his autograph.’ And off they went in the wrong direction, with Sharon whining and Charlie complaining and both of them pulling at each other.
Tina watched them and sighed. ‘We won’t be like them, will we, Trevor?’
Uh-oh! Alarm bells ringing again! I edged further from her.
‘No, we won’t,’ I said heavily. ‘We won’t be at all like them in any way whatsoever.’
Tina smiled. ‘I knew that. You couldn’t be like Charlie, ever!’ And she moved towards me.
Noooo! I hastily glanced at Kriss’s stopwatch and leaped to my feet. ‘Kriss has been gone for more than nine minutes! Where is he? What’s happened to him?’
We looked all around but there was no sign at all.
‘Maybe he’s been kidnapped,’ Tina suggested.
The watch carried on ticking. Ten minutes passed, and still no sign. Eleven. This was getting ridiculous. Where could he be?
We heard barking in the woods. There was a loud squawking and clattering noise and suddenly ten pheasants came bursting out from the trees and struggled into the air, still blathering at each other like a bunch of angry kids from nursery.
Then Streaker appeared, towing Kriss behind. The runner was covered in bits of grass and twigs, branches, leaves and sweat. He had several scratches on his arms and legs. He looked absolutely exhausted. I stopped the watch.
‘Twelve minutes, forty-eight seconds,’ I told him. It was a disaster.
Kriss just stood there, bent double, hands on knees, panting and panting.
‘Dog,’ he gasped. ‘That dog! Dragged me everywhere! (Gasp!) Chased rabbits. Chased birds. (Pant-pa
nt!) Chased squirrels, butterflies, litter. (Gasp!) She even chased ME! Never again! Never!’
Kriss looked at us with wild eyes, straightened up and limped away down the path. ‘Never again!’ he called back, before finally disappearing round a bend.
Tina and I looked at each other and then at Streaker. She sat there in her angelic pose, with her tongue hanging out.
‘So,’ Tina said slowly. ‘Not exactly a success then.’
4. The Lucky Running-shorts
The next day arrived and Tina and I were still puzzling over how to help Kriss speed up. We decided to go back to the woods to see how he was getting on. We took the frisbee with us in case it was a while before Kriss turned up for training.
I was rapidly going off the idea of Streaker ever skateboarding, but I could easily picture her winning gold for the frisbee event. She was a natural runner and jumper. I once watched Streaker snatch a beefburger from a man just as he was about to put it into his mouth! With a bound and a leap she’d sailed through the air. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No, it was SuperStreak – the burger-burglar!
I turned to Tina. ‘I’ve just thought of another event they should have in the Animal Games. What about a hole-digging event? I bet Streaker could beat any dog at digging holes. She’s like a hundred-mile-an-hour digger.’
‘Trevor, your dog is a hundred-mile-an-hour dustbin, that’s what. The only event Streaker is bound to win would have to be for speed-eating. I have never seen a dog eat so much so quickly in so little time.’
We had reached the edge of the field and I threw the frisbee as far as I could. Streaker went tearing after it, bouncing through the long grass. As the frisbee came sailing back to earth she leaped up and CLUNK! She’d got it! She came racing back to us. I held out my hand to her in triumph. Streaker went zooming straight past with the frisbee still in her mouth.
Tina cried out. ‘She’s seen a rabbit!’ And she had. That daft dog of mine went all over the place, with the rabbit bouncing ahead and the frisbee wobbling about in her mouth like a dinner plate waiting for its dinner. Luckily it was a dinner that never arrived because the rabbit suddenly disappeared down a tiny hole where a dog couldn’t follow – not even a slinky-thin one like Streaker.
We were so busy laughing at her that we didn’t see Charlie Smugg until we were almost on top of him. It seemed that he’d been watching us. Then I noticed his three Alsatians prowling in the grass some way behind.
‘I suppose you think your dog’s clever, catching that frisbee thing,’ he sneered. ‘I bet you my dogs can do better than that.’
‘Your Alsatians?’ I gulped. ‘Streaker’s a lot better than them.’
‘No way,’ snarled Charlie. ‘I bet you my dog can beat yours any day.’
Tina shook her head. ‘We don’t do bets. But I can tell you that Streaker can beat any one of your Alsatians.’
‘OK, clever-clogs. Is that a challenge?’ Charlie had an evil smirk on his face. Why hadn’t I guessed he had some kind of trick up his sleeve?
‘Yes, it’s a challenge,’ Tina said proudly.
‘Tina!’ I hissed. ‘Streaker’s MY dog!’ But she didn’t take any notice, and Charlie smirked even more.
‘OK then. Here’s the deal. You put your dog in the Animal Games frisbee event, and I’ll put in my Alsatians. Then we’ll see who’s left with egg on their face. So that means not only will your stupid mutt lose the running race to Lamborghini, but she’ll also lose to my Alsatians in the frisbee event. Oh – don’t think I mentioned it before, but my Alsatians did a frisbee event last year. I trained ’em for months. They won by miles. You’re going to lose, lover-boy, and there’ll be nobody to kiss you better except your GIRLFRIEND! Hurr hurr hurrr!’ And he sloped off, making kissy noises to the air.
I stuck my hands in my pockets, kicked the ground and looked daggers at Tina.
‘You’ve got us into a right mess,’ I complained.
‘I couldn’t help it. Charlie is such a fat big-head. Anyhow, he’s not going to win – we are. Streaker is the best frisbee catcher in the world.’
I don’t know if Streaker understood Tina, but she went off and celebrated by rolling in something EXTREMELY SMELLY AND NASTY.
When we got to the woods, we discovered we weren’t the only people there. An elderly couple was sitting on a rug with a pizza-picnic, almost exactly where Tina and I had sat the previous day. They gave us a cheerful wave.
‘Who are they?’
‘How should I know?’ said Tina. ‘Maybe they’re Kriss’s parents.’
We wandered across and smiled at them.
‘We’re watching young Kriss,’ beamed the man.
‘We’re his fan club,’ said his wife with a little laugh.
‘Are you his mum and dad?’ asked Tina, and the woman burst out laughing.
‘No, no, no, dearie. I’m Mrs Akani and –’ she gestured at her husband – ‘Mr Akani. We like watching Kriss train.’
‘Do you think he’ll get gold at the Games?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Who knows?’ said Mr Akani. ‘He’s fast, but so is Azi Numa, I think.’
‘Kriss is trying to get faster,’ I told them.
Mrs Akani patted the ground next to her. ‘Sit down, have some pizza,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid the base is a bit thick. I was busy and my husband made them. What can you do?’ Mrs Akani glanced fondly at her husband and they both chuckled.
‘If you don’t like my pizzas,’ Mr Akani said to his wife, ‘don’t eat them!’ And they started laughing again. What a jolly couple.
At that moment Streaker started barking and jumping up and down. A moment later Kriss Okonjo himself appeared from the woods, stopped and looked at his watch. He shook his head. I called out to him.
‘No better?’
Kriss looked up and saw us – and he saw Streaker too. ‘It’s a lot better than when she was helping me yesterday,’ he said flatly. He came over and explained to Mr and Mrs Akani what had happened the previous day with the dog.
‘What? This dog here?’ asked Mrs Akani. ‘But she looks so harmless.’
‘She is harmless,’ I told her. ‘It’s just that somehow she manages to muck things up for everyone.’
Right on cue, Streaker began racing round and round Kriss’s legs in ever-smaller circles until eventually she jumped up and knocked him flying. Poor Kriss! He went tumbling backwards and sat down with a WHUMP!! on the picnic rug, right on one of Mr Akani’s mini-pizzas.
Kriss leaped up at once, wiping his backside angrily. ‘These are my best running shorts, my lucky running shorts! Look what your pesky dog has done now!’
But there was no time to say any more because Streaker was after the pizza that was still stuck to Kriss’s bottom! Kriss tried to back off, but Streaker was after him.
Kriss turned tail and fled. All at once he was in a running race with a dog! She was hot on his heels, snapping at his rear, while Kriss ran to save his life – or at least save his bottom!
‘Aaaargh!’ screamed Kriss as he disappeared into the woods, and both the international runner and the international doggy nuisance disappeared from sight.
5. How to Catch a Frisbee, or Not
‘Streaker!’ I yelled, leaping to my feet. Did she take any notice? Of course not.
‘Oh dear,’ murmured Mr Akani, and we all stared in horror at the silent woods, imagining the kind of headlines that would appear in the next day’s newspapers.
The silence was broken by another scream as Kriss burst out from the woods with Streaker still in hot pursuit. He came hurtling straight towards us.
‘Heeeeeelp! Get this dog off me!’
As Kriss flashed past I threw myself with all my strength on Streaker and managed to bring her down. We rolled into the long grass while Kriss collapsed on the ground, panting heavily.
‘I’ve never run so fast,’ he complained. ‘That dog … that dog should be locked up. First she drags me through every hedge for miles around and then she tries to eat my – my
you-know-what.’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
Mr Akani turned to Kriss. ‘Mr Okonjo –’
‘Kriss, please. Call me Kriss.’
Mr Akani bowed his head briefly. ‘Kriss, I understand you are trying to improve your time?’
‘I am, but I seem to be hitting an invisible wall. I just can’t get any faster.’
‘Then maybe you should let my wife help you,’ suggested Mr Akani.
We all looked at Mrs Akani. She didn’t look like someone who could train international runners. I have no idea what an athletics trainer should look like, but I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t look like Mrs Akani, who was more of a – well, waddly kind of person. I don’t mean that unkindly, but Mrs Akani was pretty large – and round, with short legs and short arms. Besides, she looked at least fifty, maybe sixty, which is pretty old if you ask me.
I think Kriss felt the same way. His eyebrows went up a bit, but he was very polite and asked Mrs Akani just how she thought she could help.
‘I’m sure you know all there is to know about running, Kriss, and I know nothing. But, my dear, you just told us you felt as if you were hitting a wall trying to get faster. That wall has nothing to do with speed. That wall is something in your mind.’
Tina and Kriss and I were all agog to hear more. This woman sounded as if she knew something useful.
‘Barriers in your mind can seem very big and scary, not to mention impossible to break down. And yet it is only your mind that makes them so scary.’
‘I can understand that,’ Kriss said, nodding. ‘But what can be done about it?’
‘I am a hypnotist,’ Mrs Akani declared. ‘I have helped smokers give up smoking. I help people break down the barriers in their mind and overcome whatever problem they have. A woman came to me last month and told me she was so afraid of spiders she wouldn’t go in her own bathroom until her husband had checked it over for spiders from top to bottom. I hypnotized her and told her she was no longer afraid. Now she has no problem with spiders. In fact she has just bought one as a pet.’
The Hundred-Mile-an-Hour Dog Goes for Gold! Page 2
