Alfie the Werewolf 4: Wolf Wood

by Paul van Loon

  www.hodderchildrens.co.uk

  Copyright © 2003 Paul van Loon

  Illustrations copyright © 2003 Hugo van Look

  English language translation © 2010 David Colmer

  First published in the Netherlands under the title Weerwoivenbos

  by Uitgeverij Leopold in 1996

  Published by arrangement with Rights People, London

  First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Hodder Children’s Books

  This ebook edition published in 2011

  The right of Paul van Loon and Hugo van Look to be identified as the Author and Illustrator of the Work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  The publishers are grateful for the support of the Foundation for the Production and Translation of Dutch Literature.

  All rights reserved. Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form, or by any means with prior permission in writing from the publishers or in the case of reprographic production in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency and may not be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A Catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 44490 504 5

  Typeset in Weiss by Avon DataSet Ltd, Bidford on Avon, Warwickshire

  Hodder Children’s Books

  a division of Hachette Children’s Books

  338 Euston Road, London NW1 3BH

  An Hachette UK Company

  www.hachette.co.uk

  1

  Werewolves

  It was quiet in Wolf Wood and the full moon was looking down over the trees. The sky was already turning a slightly lighter blue. Dewdrops were glistening on the moss and the birds were about to wake up.

  Suddenly there was a loud roar. ‘WROW!’ Followed by a voice. ‘Grandpa, careful, there are werewolves here.’

  Grandpa shot up, his hat tumbling to the ground. ‘What? Werewolves? Where? Who?’

  ‘Here, Grandpa, us two. You and me.’

  Grandpa peered at a white hairy face with a cheerful grin. A face with two pointy ears and round glasses.

  ‘Alfie,’ he smiled, baring his sharp teeth. His yellow eyes gleamed as he bent down to pick up his hat. ‘Of course, you’re right again. How silly of me. It’s us, you and me.’ He put his hat back on his black wolf’s head. ‘Practical joker. I suppose you thought I was asleep.’

  Alfie growled and sniggered at the same time. ‘Wrow.’ His white tail swished over the ground.

  Grandpa Werewolf was sitting next to Alfie with his back against the trunk of an enormous tree. Grandpa rapped on the bark. ‘Did you know that my tree is the oldest tree in Wolf Wood, Alfie?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep and it’s in the exact middle of the wood. My good old tree.’ Suddenly Grandpa Werewolf gave an enormous yawn. ‘Oowaahh. Sorry, Alfie. How’s the Scoffle?’

  ‘Fine, Grandpa. It’s still in the cage in our garden.’

  ‘It hasn’t eaten anyone lately?’

  ‘No, thank goodness. As long as we feed it on time, it’s not dangerous. I think it’s sweet.’

  Grandpa Werewolf nodded. ‘Good. Of course, the Scoffle is still a wild animal. It belongs in a forest, really. But maybe it feels at home with you too, seeing as you’re a werewolf.’ Grandpa blinked and looked up at the last rays of moonlight. ‘Oops,’ he exclaimed.

  2

  Voices

  ‘What is it, Grandpa?’ Startled, Alfie looked at Grandpa Werewolf, who was pointing at the moon with his walking stick.

  ‘You have to go home, Alfie, it’s got very late. Or rather, it’s become very early, almost morning. We’ve been sitting here far too long. Time always flies when you’re having fun. The sun will come up soon and in a little while you’ll turn back into a boy again.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘In a few hours I have to go to school, that’s the worst part. I’ve been up all night. Hopefully I won’t fall asleep at school. That’s already happened a couple of times. The teacher kept me in.’ He opened his jaws wide and yawned. ‘I’m exhausted.’

  Grandpa Werewolf struggled to his feet. ‘It’s a shame. I was just about to tell you the big secret.’

  ‘You were going to tell me a secret?’

  ‘Yes, the secret of Werewolf Wood. But it’s too late for that now.’

  ‘A big secret? What big secret?’

  Grandpa Werewolf shook his head. ‘No, Alfie, not now. You have to take your time for a big secret. You have to sit down and relax. The two of us, you and me, werewolves together. And then you have to tell it at your leisure.’ He winked. ‘Next time.’

  ‘Ohhh.’ Alfie was burning with curiosity. ‘Can’t you just tell me a little bit now?’

  ‘No, you have to race off home.’ Grandpa’s yellow eyes gleamed. ‘I think I’ll climb up into my wolf’s nest and hit the sack.’

  Alfie looked up at the rope ladder hanging down from the tree. Hidden carefully between the leaves and the branches was a fantastic treehouse.

  Wolf Wood was actually a Werewolf Wood, but that was something only werewolves knew. Grandpa was a werewolf the whole time, both day and night. He was able to do that because he was already very old.

  Alfie only changed at full moon when, for three nights in a row, he would turn into a small white werewolf with glasses on his snout. As soon as the sun came up, he changed back into an ordinary little boy.

  Grandpa Werewolf patted Alfie briefly on the head, then grabbed the rope ladder. ‘See you soon, Alfie. Run off home now.’ Quickly, he climbed up the ladder.

  Grandpa’s amazing, thought Alfie. He’s as agile as a young monkey.

  When he’d made it to the top, Grandpa Werewolf looked down grinning. ‘Don’t dawdle anywhere, Alfie. Morning’s coming. I’ll tell you the secret next time.’

  ‘Goodnight, Grandpa.’

  Grandpa winked at Alfie, pulled up the rope ladder and disappeared behind the branches.

  ‘Wrow, time to race home.’ Alfie dropped down on to all fours and tore through the forest. Soon it would be light. He thought about what Grandpa Werewolf had said. The secret of Werewolf Wood … What could it be?

  Suddenly he froze. His ears quivered. He stuck his nose up into the air and sniffed.

  Branches snapped. Leaves rustled.

  Alfie sniffed again. The wind was carrying strange smells towards him. Unknown smells. Trouble.

  ‘Owahhh.’ Alfie couldn’t suppress a yawn. He clapped a paw over his mouth in fright. What was that over there? A beam of light between the trees. Was that a torch? A patch of light danced over the trunks. Then he heard strange voices. People! What were they doing in the wood this early? Had they heard him? Alfie dived behind a bush and kept as quiet as a mouse. He yawned again, but silently this time.

  The people came closer. Now their deep voices were loud and clear.

  ‘Can you picture it, Rattlebones? Beautiful blocks of flats, the smell of asphalt. Smell it? Lovely! Plenty of parking. At most a couple of football pitches, otherwise no green. Bah.’

  ‘That’s right, Boss. Get rid of those sloppy trees. Flatten the lot. We’ll make it nice and flat for some nice new flats.’

  ‘Exactly. Very wise, Rattlebones. If you want to build, you have to flatten something first.’

  ‘Absolutely, Boss. And we’ll sell the wood for a tidy little profit
on the side.’

  Alfie didn’t get it. What were they talking about? A flat wood?

  Suddenly a light swept over his face, catching him full in the eyes and momentarily blinding him. He dived deeper into the undergrowth.

  3

  Secret Plans

  Two men emerged from the trees: one fat, the other skinny. They were both wearing trench coats, ties and pinstriped suits. The fat one was lighting their way with a big torch.

  ‘Did you see that, Rattlebones?’

  ‘What, Boss?’

  ‘Over there, an animal. A dog, I think. Or a wolf.’

  ‘I thought I heard something, Boss. It sounded like a very loud yawn.’

  ‘Must have been that wolf, Rattlebones. A yawning, lazy slug of a wolf. Bah, I hate wolves.’

  The torch swept the bushes and the trees again. Alfie didn’t move a muscle. Fortunately the men didn’t see him.

  ‘Are there wolves here then, Boss?’

  ‘Could be, Rattlebones, could be. They must have called it Wolf Wood for a reason.’

  ‘Nasty creatures, wolves. Do we still have them in this country?’

  The Boss sniggered. ‘If we do, their days are numbered, Rattlebones. We’re going to smash it all up. We’ll flatten the whole wood. Thanks to the Chopper, the Chipper and the Cutter. And if there are any wolves, we’ll take care of them while we’re at it.’

  ‘OK, Boss. Who takes care of them when we’re finished?’

  ‘Don’t be a fool, Rattlebones.’

  Alfie’s eyes were drooping. He hardly heard a word they said. All he could think of was bed … His lovely warm bed … His nice soft pillow … He almost fell asleep under the bush.

  The two men continued their conversation.

  ‘Why are we here so early, Boss?’

  ‘This way nobody sees us, Rattlebones. Our plans stay secret. I don’t want anyone eavesdropping.’

  ‘Eavesdropping, Boss?’

  ‘Yes, you know, listening in. The trees have ears. We don’t want any busybodies nosing around. Big-mouthed idiots who think you have to protect animals and mustn’t cut down forests That kind of nonsense.’

  ‘Oh, thosecharacters, Boss. Troublemakers, they are. Leave ‘em to me, I’ll shut their big mouths up.’

  Alfie was getting more and more confused. ‘Leaves dropping? The trees have noses? Weird.’ He yawned again and his head flopped to one side.

  ‘Do we have a permit to chop and cut, Boss?’

  ‘A permit? Are you crazy, Rattlebones? Applying for a permit would take for ever. No, I just need to have a quiet word with the mayor. It’ll be fine. It will all work out. A bag of money does wonders, you mark my words.’

  The men laughed.

  ‘When do we start, Boss?’

  ‘Tomorrow night, Rattlebones, when everyone’s asleep. We’ll strike while the iron is hot.’

  Their voices grew softer and softer.

  ‘No, we’ll mow it all down, ha-ha …’

  Alfie sat up with a start when a twig jabbed his cheek. Cautiously he looked over the top of the bush. The men were gone. For a while he sat there motionless.

  What were those two rabbitting on about? he thought. Something about a flat wood. What rubbish. How could a wood be flat? He yawned again, so hard it brought tears to his eyes. In the meantime the moon had disappeared.

  Oh, I have to get home fast, thought Alfie. Run, before it’s too late …

  4

  In the Nuddy

  Alfie ran as fast as he could. Branches scratched his bare skin.

  Huh?

  Grass tickled the soles of his bare feet.

  What?

  Leaves slapped his bare legs.

  Whoops!

  Alfie stopped and looked down at his arms. Uh-oh! Instead of white fur, he saw bare skin. Not paws with claws, but hands with fingers.

  Oh no, he thought. I should have been home ages ago. I’m not a werewolf any more, I’m just a little boy. He gulped, because there was one problem. His pyjamas were at home, on the floor next to his bed. He always took them off when he turned into a werewolf.

  Alfie looked around in horror. I’m standing here naked, he thought. All alone and without a stitch on. With goosebumps instead of a wolf skin.

  He shivered, because only now did he feel how cold it was. He didn’t know where he was any more either. As a werewolf he always knew his way in the woods. Werewolves are fantastic at hearing and smelling and track tracing. Boys can’t do any of those things nearly as well.

  I’m lost, thought Alfie. How am I going to get back home? What if someone sees me here in the nuddy. If only Tim was here. He always knows what to do. Alfie picked his way forward carefully.

  Leaves rustled. There were strange noises. Alfie didn’t know which way to turn. He didn’t even know how to get back to Grandpa Werewolf’s treehouse. He was starting to panic. I have to get home as fast as possible, he thought. But how do I get out of the wood?

  He shivered and hugged himself to keep warm. The trees and plants and bushes closed in on him. He guessed the direction and walked on. Sticks and stones cut his feet. ‘Ow. If only Tim was here.’

  He limped under a crooked tree. Something rustled overhead and gleaming eyes peered down through the leaves. Alfie didn’t want to know what it was and limped off as fast as he could, staggering left and right through the wood. He tripped over the roots of trees. His feet hurt. He was exhausted and could hardly take another step. Slowly his skin started to turn blue from the cold.

  I’ll never get out of here alive, he thought. First I’ll pass out from the cold, then I’ll slowly freeze to death. I’ll never see Tim and Mum and Dad again. A tear rolled down his cheek.

  Suddenly he heard a rumbling noise. It was a car. The road had to be just behind those trees.

  Alfie regained hope and limped out through the trees. He was right. It was the road.

  Thank goodness, thought Alfie. I’m out of the woods now, but how do I get home? I need clothes and shoes.

  The rumbling grew clearer and clearer. White lights approached quickly. The car screeched to a halt just in front of Alfie, capturing him in its bright headlights.

  5

  A Mobile?

  Alfie stared into the light. He was so scared he couldn’t move.

  The car door opened and someone climbed out: a strange figure with an enormous head. Someone else got out on the other side: a smaller figure with a package under one arm.

  Alfie blinked and saw the two figures approaching. Suddenly he remembered that he didn’t have any clothes on and brought his hands down to cover himself. The figure with the big head came closer.

  ‘L-l-leave me alone,’ Alfie shouted.

  ‘Alfie.’

  For a moment Alfie was struck dumb. He recognized that voice and he recognized the large helmet on the man’s head.

  ‘D-dad.’

  ‘Thank goodness we’ve found you, Alfie. You poor boy.’ The voice was quivering with relief. The smaller figure hurried around to join Alfie too.

  ‘T-Tim.’

  ‘It’s all right, Alfie. We’re here now.’

  Alfie gave a deep sigh, then toppled over. Dad was able to grab him just in time and quickly wrapped him in a blanket. Tim put the trainers he’d brought with him on Alfie’s feet. Alfie was too exhausted to do it himself. Then they helped him to the car. Alfie sat on the back seat in a daze with the blanket wrapped around him.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you, Tim. But how did you know I was here? And that I didn’t have any clothes with me?’

  Tim laughed. ‘Your pyjamas were next to your bed and it’s full moon. It was pretty obvious.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Grandpa Werewolf called us on his mobile to say you’d forgotten the time. He asked us to come and get you.’

  ‘On his mobile?’ said Alfie. ‘Grandpa?’

  ‘Yeah, he was scared you’d change before you got out of the wood. He was sure you’d get lost if you did. Tim and I jumped in the car right away.�
�

  Alfie stared at Dad. ‘Has Grandpa Werewolf got a mobile? Since when? Does he know how to use it?’

  Dad shrugged. ‘Apparently. Even with his wolf paws. I gave it to him a while ago for emergencies. So he can call me if something’s up with you. Otherwise your mother and I worry too much.’

  Alfie felt a lump in his throat. Tim’s parents always managed to surprise him. They loved him as if they were his real parents. Tim’s father thought Alfie’s being a werewolf was incredibly cool. He even wished he was a werewolf himself.

  Dad was mad about anything that was different. He liked to wear unusual headgear: things like flowerpots, tea cosies, bathing caps or fishbowls. He loved wearing weird clothes too.

  For a few weeks now he’d been a member of something called M3. Nobody knew what M3 was and Dad was very secretive about it. For now, he was just a provisional member, he said. Three times a week he had to attend a secret meeting.

  ‘It’s a kind of club,’ was all he’d say. He had a pair of pyjamas with M3 written on them and he wore a bright-yellow helmet day and night. The helmet had a flame-coloured M3 on it too. It had been weeks since they’d seen him without the helmet on. Apparently he even kept it on in bed.

  ‘So, boys, let’s go home,’ he said.

  Soon, they were driving away from Wolf Wood. Alfie was so tired his head was heavy. He leant against the back seat and closed his eyes. Oh, he thought, there’s something else I have to say, something important. His head slumped down on to his shoulder.

  ‘Strange men,’ he mumbled. ‘Choppers and chippers and leaves dropping. Flat trees with noses.’ Alfie snored for a moment. ‘Khrrrrronk. And a big secret.’

  ‘What are you talking about, son?’ Dad asked, but Alfie didn’t answer. He was sound asleep.

  6