Alfie the Werewolf 1: Birthday Surprise

by Paul van Loon

  He growled softly. The hunger was back, the werewolf hunger.

  Just a look, he thought. Or perhaps he’d better not?

  But by then he was already in the garden. He couldn’t help himself. The chickens cackled louder. Alfie ran his tongue over his teeth.

  Mrs Chalker’s house was dark. She was probably already asleep, with her feather hat on.

  Alfie crept closer on his wolf paws. It’s not allowed, he thought. I don’t want to bite things. But those thoughts came from Alfie the little boy. And the hunger came from Alfie the werewolf. And the hunger was stronger.

  One step closer.

  The chickens felt him coming. ‘Wolf! Wolf!’ they seemed to cackle.

  Suddenly Alfie stumbled over a wire.

  Then: CLANG!

  A trap, as hard as steel, slammed shut on his hind leg. Alfie screamed with pain and the next thing he knew a net had landed on top of him. All over the garden, lights started flashing: white, blue, red. ON - OFF - ON - OFF - ON - OFF.

  The chicken coop looked like a disco with flickering lights. The chickens cackled like mad things. Sirens blared.

  Alfie tried to wrestle free, but just got more and more tangled in the net. His hind leg burnt with pain, searing pain. The trap was made of silver.

  Inside Mrs Chalker’s house the lights went on.

  30

  Trapped

  The lights kept flashing, but suddenly the blaring sirens fell silent. The door flew open and out stepped Mrs Chalker, wearing her feather hat and holding her umbrella.

  ‘Got ya!’ She was mad with delight. ‘I’ve got you, you chicken killer. You fell for my tripwires and my beautiful silver trap,’ she screamed.

  Alfie lay tangled in the net. He had worked himself into a big knot.

  Mrs Chalker approached slowly. The flashing coloured lights gave her face a ghostly sheen.

  ‘You thought I was crazy, didn’t you, sonny? You thought you could hide. But I recognized you from your glasses.’ She sneered. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday. I go to the library. I read books. Don’t think I haven’t heard of werewolves.’

  She came even closer.

  Alfie growled with anger and fear. And from the pain in his hind leg.

  ‘Hurts, doesn’t it?’ Mrs Chalker grinned. ‘Silver is the best weapon against werewolves. I know that from TV. In films they shoot werewolves dead with a silver bullet.’

  Alfie tried to break free, but each movement hurt even more.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere! Just lie there until they come for you. I’ve called the RCUPA. They’re on their way. They’re coming to get you. And then they’ll lock you up in a silver cage for ever!’ Mrs Chalker gave a vicious laugh.

  Alfie growled even louder. He tried to bite a hole in the net.

  ‘Stop that at once!’ Mrs Chalker hissed. ‘Otherwise I’ll jab you.’

  She pointed at Alfie with her umbrella. The point gleamed dangerously.

  ‘Guess what that’s made of, werewolf cub. Silver. I had it made this afternoon. One false move and I’ll run it right through you.’

  31

  Madder and Madder

  Tim stood in the kitchen. He rubbed his face.

  What do I do, what do I do? he thought.

  There was only one thing he could do. Go after Alfie this minute!

  He couldn’t possibly let him leave like this. Alfie didn’t have anything, he didn’t have anyone. He belongs here with us, thought Tim. Werewolf or no werewolf.

  Suddenly he remembered what his father had said. That he might just keep a werewolf. Because it would be something really different. Maybe Dad was only joking. But maybe he really meant it. I hope so, thought Tim. Because I’m going to bring Alfie back home.

  He ran to the hall and pulled on his shoes. He tied the laces of his right shoe and his left shoe up together, stumbled, unpicked the knots, and pulled his coat on back to front. He opened the door and ran into the broom closet. Wrong door.

  He walked backwards into the hall.

  Calm down, he thought as he put his coat on the right way round.

  This time he used the right door too. He stepped outside and immediately heard a strange wailing, like some kind of alarm. Had there been an accident?

  Alfie!

  Tim’s heart pounded against his ribcage as if it was trying to break free. He ran down the garden path towards the alarm, but it had already stopped.

  There were no people out on the street, but strange lights were blinking in the distance. It was at Mrs Chalker’s, he saw that straightaway.

  Tim walked faster, then even faster, until he was running.

  He stopped at Mrs Chalker’s garden and saw something horrific. Alfie was wriggling on the ground, caught in a net. Mrs Chalker was bending over him with her umbrella.

  Tim stopped thinking. He stormed into the garden.

  ‘Stop that!’ he screamed. ‘Leave my friend alone.’

  Mrs Chalker looked up. She squeezed one eye shut. ‘Ah, here’s the other one, the accomplice.’

  Like lightning she raised her umbrella.

  ‘Stay there, you, you’re in it too. One step closer and I’ll jab him.’

  Tim stood still.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Mrs Chalker shrieked. ‘We’ll wait here for the RCUPA together. We don’t want any werewolves around here.’

  Tim looked at the woman with big, scared eyes. She really is mad! he thought.

  Mrs Chalker waved her umbrella menacingly. White froth sprayed from her lips. It was as if she was getting madder and madder.

  Under the net, Alfie writhed with pain.

  ‘Lie still, werewolf,’ Mrs Chalker commanded.

  Alfie growled.

  ‘Want me to teach you a lesson, do you?’ Mrs Chalker raised the umbrella up over Alfie with both hands.

  ‘No!’ Tim screamed, leaping forward.

  But something else beat him to it.

  There was a rustling of leaves, the snap of branches. A growling black shape leapt out of the bushes. It shot past Tim in the flickering light and threw itself on Mrs Chalker.

  Flaming red eyes glowed, white teeth shone. It was a wolf. A big, black one.

  32

  Big, Black Wolf

  Mrs Chalker screamed when she looked into the eyes of the big, black wolf.

  ‘Wo-wo … wa …’ she said and collapsed silently. She had fainted.

  Tim stepped back in fright. With its black coat and gleaming eyes, the big wolf was terrifying. But it didn’t even look at Tim. It growled once, then bit through the net that was holding Alfie prisoner.

  Snap, snap. A few good bites and Alfie was free.

  The wolf sniffed Alfie’s rear leg. It flinched away from the silver trap, then looked at Tim and beckoned with a movement of its head.

  Tim understood. The wolf wasn’t going to hurt him.

  Tim raced over to Alfie. He grabbed the silver trap with both hands. He pulled on its vicious jaws as hard as he could. He strained so hard he felt like his head was going to burst. But the trap wouldn’t budge from Alfie’s hind leg.

  The black wolf watched from a distance unable to do anything to help.

  Tim took a deep breath. Open! he thought. Open! Then he pulled again with all his might. The jaws of the trap moved just a little bit away from each other. That was enough. Alfie’s hind leg shot out. Clang! The trap slammed shut again. But Alfie was free.

  Tim wrapped his arms around Alfie’s hairy neck.

  ‘Wrow,’ said Alfie. ‘I knew you’d come.’

  He closed his eyes and went limp.

  The black wolf looked at them and growled softly, ‘I told you you were clumsy.’

  Just then a car screeched to a halt in front of the house. The doors flew open and Tim’s father got out. He was wearing a leather coat, leather trousers, boots and a motorbike helmet. He looked like a pilot from an old-fashioned war film. Mum got out on the other side. They both raced up the garden path.

  ‘Tim,’ Dad shouted.


  The black wolf disappeared into the darkness before Mum and Dad made it to the chicken coop.

  Tim looked up at them. How did they get here all of a sudden? Hadn’t they gone to see Peter and the Wolf ? And now they’re going to see Tim and the wolf, he thought.

  ‘We left early,’ Mum said, as if she could read his mind. ‘It wasn’t any fun without you.’

  ‘What happened?’ Dad asked in a worried voice.

  He squatted next to Tim, who still had his arms wrapped around Alfie.

  ‘It’s Alfie …’ Tim said. ‘He’s … he’s a werewolf. I mean, he’s dressed up as a werewolf. He’s …’ His voice broke. He looked at his parents with tear-filled eyes. ‘They’re coming to get him, the RCUPA. They’re going to take him away and lock him up. Mrs Chalker called them.’

  In the distance they heard the sound of another car.

  33

  The RCUPA

  Tim’s father and mother looked at each other. They didn’t hesitate for a moment.

  ‘Quick, get that poor boy in the car,’ Mum said.

  Dad picked up Alfie and carried him to the car. He laid him on the back seat and slammed the door.

  The car from the RCUPA pulled up right behind theirs. Four men jumped out, with Mr Collins leading the way. They were weighed down with ropes, chains, a straitjacket and a cage.

  ‘Where is it, where is it?’ Mr Collins shouted sounding very excited.

  Tim’s father took off his helmet. Under it he was wearing a cap.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he asked.

  ‘The werewolf. Mrs Chalker called us. She said she’d caught it next to her chicken coop.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Tim’s father said. ‘Follow me.’

  Quickly he gave the car keys to Mum. ‘Do you think you can drive that little bit home, honey?’ he whispered.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll manage,’ Mum said. ‘There’s always a first time for everything …’

  Dad led the men into the garden.

  In the meantime Mum hurried Tim over to the car. ‘We’ll be off home,’ she called out.

  ‘OK, I’ll walk home when I’m done,’ Dad said, shepherding the men further into Mrs Chalker’s garden.

  Mum and Tim got into the car. She stuck the key into the ignition and tried to start the engine. On her third attempt it started and jolted off down the road.

  ‘Look,’ Dad said to the RCUPA men. ‘That’s the chicken coop. And this is Mrs Chalker.’

  The men stared disbelievingly at the blinking lights decorating the chicken coop. And at the woman, who was stretched out on the ground as if she was blind drunk, with her feather hat still stuck firmly on her head.

  ‘And the werewolf?’ Mr Collins asked very quietly.

  Tim’s father shook his head.

  ‘Mrs Chalker is an unusually strange person.’ He winked at Mr Collins. ‘Unusually strange, if you get my meaning.’ He dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘I’m sure she’d be a beautiful acquisition for the Reception Centre for Unusual People and Animals.’

  ‘Ooh,’ said Mr Collins. His face lit up. He suddenly gazed with great interest at the unconscious Mrs Chalker.

  ‘She’s one of a kind,’ Dad whispered secretively. ‘A rare opportunity. I mean, that woman sees werewolves all over the place. Unusual, don’t you think?’ He nudged Mr Collins with his elbow. ‘And something else: that feather hat. We suspect that it has merged to her head. More than that, we suspect that those feathers actually grow out of her head, maybe even directly out of her brain. Now tell me, is that unusual or isn’t it?’

  Mr Collins’s face glowed with excitement. ‘Don’t say another word,’ he shouted. ‘OK, guys, wrap the package. Slip her into the straitjacket and throw her in the car. We’ll put her in the cage next to the black stork.’

  The men were very keen workers. When Mrs Chalker opened her eyes, with difficulty, she was already in the straitjacket in the back of the car. Her head wobbled back and forth.

  ‘Another werewolf,’ she said. ‘A black one, enormous, a whopper.’

  The men from the RCUPA nodded and smiled.

  ‘Never you mind, Mrs Chalker, never you mind now.’

  Watching the car drive off, Tim’s father smiled too. Then he walked home.

  Turning into a werewolf! he thought, feeling a little jealous. That’s something that really is cool. Wow, what a rush! It beats just dressing up. It’s a real transformation. If I could just learn how to do that …

  34

  Different

  Alfie opened his eyes. He was lying on the sofa.

  For a few seconds the living room was a big blur. Then he saw Tim and his parents. All three of them were looking at him with worried faces.

  Alfie still felt a little weak but he was getting over it. The pain in his leg was fading.

  He raised his arm. He could move it all right. Then he saw his hand: a white, hairy paw. Suddenly he realized that he was still a werewolf.

  And everyone was sitting there looking at him! Tim’s father and mother …

  Alfie shot up.

  Immediately they pushed him back down.

  ‘Take it easy, Alfie,’ Dad said. ‘Relax. We know all about it. Tim has already told us everything.’

  Tim? Had Tim betrayed him?

  Alfie’s eyes flashed back and forth between Tim and his parents.

  ‘It’s OK, Alfie,’ Dad said.

  ‘But … but I’m a werewolf,’ Alfie growled. ‘I’m not normal, I’m different from—’

  ‘It’s fantastic,’ Dad said. ‘I love things that are different, don’t you know that yet? I wish I could do what you can do.’

  Tim burst out laughing. ‘Look what Dad’s wearing now, Alfie. A wrinkly bathing cap.’

  His father raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s not a bathing cap, son. That’s my head. I shaved my head.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ Tim said.

  Mum laid a hand on Alfie’s paw. ‘See, Alfie, you’re actually fairly normal. You’re only different at full moon. My dear husband is different all the time. I love things that are different. That’s why I love him. And I love you too.’

  Alfie swallowed.

  ‘What I was wondering …’ Tim said. ‘Who was that black—’

  Just then the doorbell rang.

  Tim opened the door and jumped back immediately.

  A hat, a long coat, a walking stick. Standing there in the darkness was the mystery man. All Tim could make out was his gleaming eyes.

  The man touched the brim of his hat. He was wearing black gloves.

  ‘May I come in for a moment?’

  His voice was scary, but Tim nodded.

  They went through to the living room. Tim’s parents looked at the strange man with surprise.

  ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said.

  35

  Wrow!

  The man took off his hat. A black wolf’s head appeared, with flashing teeth.

  ‘You?’ Alfie said.

  Tim took a quick step backwards.

  Mum and Dad looked at their guest a little anxiously. Two werewolves in one house was a bit too much.

  The black werewolf pulled off his gloves. Tim swallowed when he saw the big black paws. Now he knew what was hidden under that long black coat.

  ‘Who … who are you?’ Dad asked.

  The wolf grinned, displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth. Pitch-black eyes stared at Alfie.

  ‘I’m your grandpa!’

  Alfie shot up, ignoring the pain in his leg.

  ‘My grandpa? I knew it must be in the family. My parents must be werewolves too then!’

  Grandpa Werewolf shook his head. Groaning, he sat down on a chair. His coat gaped open, revealing hairy legs.

  ‘No, Alfie, your parents aren’t werewolves. But I knew you would become one. That’s how it’s passed on in our family. Not from father to son, but from grandfather to grandson.’

  Alfie didn’t understand. ‘What happened to my parents then?’


  Grandpa Werewolf growled. ‘When you were three, I told them. I thought it was better for them to find out in time, so they could get used to it. I explained very carefully that you would become a werewolf on your seventh birthday. Just like I did.’

  Alfie got a strange premonition.

  ‘What happened then?’ he asked, with a strange trembling in his growly little voice.

  Grandpa Werewolf gave an angry snort. ‘They weren’t happy. They thought it was horrible. They packed their bags and ran away that very night.’

  The old werewolf stared hard at Alfie.

  ‘They were weaklings, Alfie. Not worthy of being your parents.’

  Tim’s mother wrapped an arm around Alfie. ‘Oh, you poor boy, dumped, just like that.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Grandpa Werewolf growled. ‘Disgraceful. That’s why I went looking for new parents for you. Better parents.’ He pointed at Tim’s father and mother. ‘And that’s where this family came into it. I went looking for parents who were special. Parents who loved things that were different and who would love you too. Fortunately, I found them. By the looks of things, it was the right choice.’

  A big smile appeared on Dad’s face. His bald head gleamed with pride.

  ‘I laid you here on the doorstep at night,’ Grandpa said. ‘Then I rang the bell and ran away.’

  ‘Oh, was that you?’ Tim’s mother said. She was still holding Alfie and now she ran her fingers through the fur on his head. ‘Why did you run away?’

  Grandpa Werewolf scratched himself behind the ear with his claws.

  ‘I didn’t want to scare you straightaway. It was full moon and I looked just like I do now.’

  It turned into a very enjoyable evening despite Alfie’s sore leg.

  Tim’s mother threw all her silver straight into the rubbish bin. ‘There, that won’t bother you any more, Alfie,’ she said. ‘We won’t let another sliver of silver into the house.’