‘THE MAGICIAN ISN’T REALLY A MAGICIAN, HE’S A VAMPIRE AND HE TURNED EVERYONE INTO ZOMBIES AND I FLUSHED HIS TEETH DOWN THE TOILET!’
At least this outburst got a reaction, but not the one I’d hoped for.
Mrs Grump looked angrier than I’d ever seen her before (even angrier than the time an ogre ate her desk – but I’ll tell you about that another time).
She was about to tell me off when I suddenly realized I had proof!
‘He hasn’t got a reflection!’ I said, before Mrs Grump could speak. ‘Look in the window!’
Mrs Grump narrowed her eyes and turned towards the window.
‘ARRRRRGGGGGGHHH!’ she screamed, and turned back to face me with a look of horror on her face.
‘You see,’ I said. ‘I told you. Mr Graves is a vam–’ I glanced around and noticed that Mr Graves had gone!
He must have legged it while everyone was watching Mrs Grump.
So why had Mrs Grump screamed if the vampire had already scarpered?
Had my teacher seen something else in the glass, something much worse than a vampire, some hideous monster that the vampire visitor had conjured up before fleeing the scene?
As Mrs Grump glared at me I realized the answer was written on her face.
My teacher had seen her marker-pen moustache!
GULP!
‘If you don’t hurry up we’ll be late for your appointment!’ Mum snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me along beside her.
She’d rumbled my plan.
I thought if I shuffled slowly enough we’d be late for the hairdresser’s and have to make a new appointment. Then I’d have time to come up with a proper scheme to get out of it, like I usually do.
Mum had been sneaky this time. I didn’t know about the haircut until she pounced on me at the school gates, and by then it was too late. I’d walked straight into a haircut-trap and there was no time to leg it or come up with a decent escape plan.
Mum always gets my hair cut the way she likes it, neat and nerdy with a side parting, and it takes ages to get it looking scruffy again. I’d managed to dodge the last three appointments, but now my luck had finally run out and I was doomed to be the least cool kid in school.
My appointment was at the Saloon Salon, a Wild West-themed hairdresser’s that Mum thought would be fun. And it would have been fun too, if I hadn’t been there to get a nerdy haircut.
Mum watched me carefully as we sat in the reception.
I scratched my scruffy head and thought hard.
I decided the last chance I had to escape the scissors was to pretend to head for the chair when my name was called, and then quickly change direction and scarper out the door.
‘Jake Cake?’ said the hairdresser, stepping through swinging saloon doors.
I was about to put my last-minute escape plan into action when Mum leapt from her chair like a jack-in-the-box, blocked the door and folded her arms defiantly.
‘He’s here,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘And he would like nice and neat with an adorable side parting.’
As the hairdresser led me away Mum gave a triumphant sigh.
She must have been planning this for weeks!
The hairdresser was very tall and thin, with a long nose and very bushy eyebrows. Her assistant was short and round, with a pointy nose and no eyebrows at all. They were both wearing scissor-holsters and Stetsons.
I sat in the chair and watched through the mirror as the hairdresser and her assistant peered at my hair.
‘Hmmm,’ they said together, moving in for a closer look.
Glancing up, all I could see were two sets of hairy nostrils twitching as the pair exchanged frantic glances,
whispers and angry grunts over my head. And from where I sat it sounded like they were arguing about who would cut my hair.
‘Mine!’ snapped the hairdresser.
‘Mine!’ snapped the assistant.
‘This one is MINE!’ the hairdresser growled. ‘You can have the next one!’
The assistant fell silent and stuck out her bottom lip.
‘I don’t mind who does it, so long as it’s not neat and nerdy,’ I said hopefully.
The hairdresser and her assistant frowned at each other as though they’d completely forgotten there was a person sitting beneath the messy mop of hair. They turned their heads slowly and peered at me through the mirror.
‘We’re not deciding who gets to cut it!’ hissed the hairdresser.
‘We’re deciding who gets to keep it afterwards!’ hissed the assistant.
‘Oh,’ I said, shrinking back down in the chair.
My eyes darted between the hairdresser and her assistant as they continued their argument. Something very strange was going on right above my head, but I couldn’t work out what it was. Who were these hat-wearing hairdressers and why were they arguing over who got to keep my scruffy old hair clippings?
‘Mine!’ snapped the hairdresser, poking the assistant in the chest.
‘Mine!’ snapped the assistant, twanging the hairdresser’s long nose.
‘Mine!’ snapped the hairdresser, prodding the assistant’s pointy nose.
Suddenly the assistant reached up and flicked off the hairdresser’s hat, revealing a shiny bald head with two small horns sticking out of it! The hairdresser gasped and retaliated, flicking off the assistant’s hat and revealing another shiny bald head with one stumpy horn in the middle (like a baby rhinoceros)!
I immediately knew what I was dealing with.
DEMONS!
Demons are everywhere if you know what to look for. I once found one living in our chimney! I chased it out with a poker and got into loads of trouble for getting soot everywhere (but I’ll tell you about that another time).
One thing you need to know about demons is that aside from being really, really ugly, they’re also really, really stupid.
These two were so stupid they hadn’t realized I’d seen their horns and they didn’t even notice when I slipped out of the chair and legged it. And I would
have escaped too, if Mum hadn’t been patrolling the exit.
‘But they’re DEMONS!’ I pleaded, as Mum continued to block the door.
‘So, it’s demons now, is it!’ she sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘Honestly, Jake! All this fuss over one little haircut!’
I was about to carry on pleading when I heard frantic footsteps approaching and the demons appeared with their hats crammed on at awkward angles. They glared at me with mean demon eyes and then quickly became flustered when they saw Mum.
‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mrs Cake,’ said the hairdresser.
‘The little rascal just wriggled away!’ added the assistant.
‘Don’t worry, I was expecting an escape attempt,’ Mum said, nudging me back towards the demons. ‘Perhaps I should come in and keep an eye on him while you cut his hair?’
‘NOOOOO!’ boomed the hairdresser angrily.
Mum looked startled and the demons exchanged worried glances.
‘NOOOOO charge!’ added the assistant hastily.
‘Excuse me?’ said Mum.
‘NOOOOO charge for haircuts today,’ said the assistant, who was now looking up at Mum’s hair with wide greedy eyes. ‘It’s a special promotion we’re having for ladies with pretty hair!’
‘Pretty hair?’ Mum smiled, glancing in a nearby mirror and fiddling with her fringe. ‘You think I have pretty hair?’
‘Very pretty hair,’ said the assistant, and drooled.
‘Well, maybe I could use a little trim.’ Mum chuckled, obviously flattered by the compliment. ‘If it’s not too much trouble?’
‘No trouble at all,’ grinned the assistant.
‘But they’re DEMONS!’ I sighed.
‘Now that’s quite enough of that,’ Mum said, leading me back into the salon. She plonked me down in the chair and eyed me through the mirror. ‘And I’ll be watching you the whole time, so behave yourself,’ she warned.
GULP!
While the demon assistant co
mbed and snipped Mum’s hair at the other end of the salon, the demon hairdresser scratched her chin with one hand and prodded my messy mop with the other.
‘What do you want with the hair anyway?’ I said, because I was curious.
‘I’m going to chop it all off and glue it on to my head!’ said the hairdresser, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
‘Er, why?’ I asked with a frown.
‘Because my hat keeps falling off,’ said the demon matter-of-factly.
‘Oh,’ I said. She was much too fierce to argue with.
I should have worked it out earlier. Demons are well known for dressing up as humans. They steal clothes from washing lines and usually wear hats to cover their horns. Wigs make them itch, which is always a dead giveaway, so I guessed real hair was the next best thing.
The hairdresser was still scratching her chin when the assistant came over to us.
Through the mirror I saw Mum still sitting at the other side of the salon. She was now under a big hairdryer, reading a magazine.
I hadn’t seen exactly what the assistant had done to Mum’s hair, but she seemed happy enough.
Mum saw me looking and waved – it was a slow I’m-still-watching-you wave. GULP!
‘My new hair is going to look very pretty when it’s set!’ said the assistant, jumping up and down excitedly. ‘And
when I’ve chopped it all off and glued it to my head, I will look much prettier than you!’ she added, sneering at the hairdresser.
The demon hairdresser glared at the assistant.
‘Wanna bet?’ she snapped.
As the assistant skipped away to a room at the back of the shop, the hairdresser began working frantically on my messy mop with her long bony fingers. With grim determination she scooped and groped and twirled handfuls of hair, sculpting and shaping it like a big crazy bird’s nest.
Mum occasionally peered over her magazine at me, but she was obviously just making sure I hadn’t scarpered. She paid no attention to the terrible things that were happening on top of my head!
The demon curled some of my hair into ringlets and braided other bits into plaits. There were a couple of bunches on top of my head and other bits just sticking up all over the place.
Finally, when every hair had been dealt with, the demon hairdresser grabbed a massive tin of hairspray and squirted a big stinky cloud of it all over my head.
She stepped back to admire her handiwork.
I scowled in the mirror at the horrible hairy sculpture on my head.
But, looking on the bright side, I decided there was nothing worse she could do because there was no more hair left to do it with.
‘Hmmm,’ said the demon, looking around the salon.
Suddenly the hairdresser smiled as she spied a large display of hair decorations – bows and ribbons and plastic flowers.
GULP!
Wheeling the whole display case over to my chair the demon began sticking the bows and ribbons and plastic flowers on to my hideous hairdo. She crammed on as many as possible, grinning like a mad thing as my head grew heavier and heavier.
Eventually she stepped back again to survey her creation.
‘Perfect!’ she hissed.
I looked in the mirror at Mum, hoping she’d notice the massive girly mess on my head and demand to know what was going on, but she’d fallen asleep under the warmth of the dryer.
So much for keeping an eye on me!
With Mum fast asleep I suppose I could have legged it, but that would have meant running down the high street with THAT on my head, which wasn’t really much of an option. In fact my hair was so scary I would have happily shaved it all off just to get rid of it – but I didn’t much like the idea of a demon running around with my hair glued to her head!
There had to be another way.
The demon approached the chair again, smiled an evil smile and drew a set of buzzing hair clippers from her holster!
‘Time to harvest my pretty new hair!’ she squealed excitedly.
As the demon hairdresser leaned in to shear off my hair, I looked around frantically. Then I peered into the sink in front of me and suddenly had an idea. Quick as a flash I grabbed the shower head, held it up to my head and curled my finger around the trigger…
WOOOOOSSSHHHHHH!
The ringlets and plaits were blasted out of my hair by the huge jet of water, quickly followed by the bows and ribbons and plastic flowers. They shot off my head one by one and splattered the startled demon.
‘ARRRRRGGGGHHH!’ she screamed.
Although I think she was mostly screaming at the state of my hair.
The scream caused the assistant to come running from the back of the shop. She was holding a gooey paintbrush and had already covered half of her horny head with glue!
When she saw the soggy hairdresser and my soaking mop, the demon assistant began screaming too, although she was screaming with laughter.
The demon hairdresser turned around slowly and flared her hairy nostrils.
‘ARRRRRGGGGHHH!’ she screamed again, but this time with anger.
Suddenly the hairdresser leapt into the air and landed on the assistant’s back!
To hold on she clasped her hands around the gluey horn on the sticky head and immediately stuck fast.
In the Stetson the demon hairdresser looked like a cowboy riding a baby rhinoceros.
The pair crashed around the Saloon Salon stuck firmly together, wailing and growling wildly.
Which I have to admit was very funny to watch.
Then I realized I wasn’t the only one watching.
Mum was gawping at the demons with her mouth hanging open. She immediately turned to me and narrowed her eyes – and I’d seen that look before. It was the look that meant I was about to get blamed for everything!
Mum stepped out of the hairdryer and stormed over to me.
‘What on earth have you been up to?’ she demanded.
I was about to blurt out something about demons gluing hair on their heads, but then I stared up at Mum with a very worried look on my face.
‘Er, Mum…’ I said.
‘What?’ she snapped, annoyed that I was changing the subject.
‘Have you looked in the mirror?’
I said.
‘Have I looked in the mirror?’ She frowned. ‘Well, no, but…’
Mum’s eyes caught her reflection and her jaw immediately dropped.
‘ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!’ she screamed.
Now demons are pretty scary – but they’re nowhere near as scary as Mum when she’s angry. And when Mum looked up and saw her large, frizzy, frazzled hair in the mirror she became madder than I’ve ever seen her before (meaning she was REALLY mad)! While Mum was busy swinging her handbag at the heap of wrestling demons, I quickly combed my wet hair to make it look neat and nerdy with a side parting, and tucked all the scruffy bits away behind my ears.
It looked very uncool.
I turned back just in time to see the two terrified demons running out of the door as fast as the assistant’s short legs would carry them.
It seemed no amount of hair was worth getting a battering from Mum and they continued to leg it all the way along the high street (which must have startled a few shoppers!).
Mum took a deep breath, pulled on her coat and shouldered her handbag.
‘We’re leaving!’ she said calmly. Crossing the Saloon Salon I looked down and saw a Stetson; it had dropped from the demon rhino-rider as she ducked through the doorway.
I picked it up and offered it to Mum.
‘You could put this on for now?’ I said, frowning at Mum’s scary hair.
Mum looked at the hat, glanced at her hair once again in the mirror and quickly crammed it on her head.
‘Well, at least you look tidy, pardner,’ she sighed, patting my damp head.
If Mum realized I’d dodged the nerdy haircut, she didn’t say anything or make another appointment for me, not for a while anyway. She was far too busy makin
g appointments to sort out her own demon hairdo! PHEW!
Of course Mum didn’t know she’d done battle with two demons – she thought she’d done battle with two very bad hairdressers. But either way Mum had rounded up the demons, and run them out of town.
And I wasn’t the least cool kid in school.
Mum and Dad usually take me to the beach during the summer holidays. This year Mum refused to go because she said it held too many painful memories, and she still didn’t feel comfortable showing her face there.
‘And you can take that look off your face right now, young man,’ she snapped, eyeing me through the car’s rear-view mirror. ‘You have no one to blame but yourself!’
The truth is that last year I got into loads of trouble with a sand monster and it all ended with me, Mum and Dad being escorted from the beach by the police because they said I was terrorizing the other holidaymakers (it wasn’t me, it was the sand monster, but I’ll tell you about that another time).
Jake Cake: The Visiting Vampire Page 2
