Atticus Claw Hears a Roar

by Jennifer Gray

  Slasher regarded him in awe. ‘Thug, me old mate,’ he said, ‘you’re brilliant.’

  ‘I am?’ Thug said in surprise.

  ‘Yeah, you’re absolutely right. If Pam can have half of what Jimmy has, then Jimmy can have half of what Pam has! It’s the law, innit?’ Slasher slapped his friend on the back. ‘Hey, Jimmy!’ he shouted.

  ‘What?’ Jimmy Magpie snarled. He was busy sticking feathers to a mask with Pam’s poo. He had to be very careful he didn’t get it on his own feathers or he’d end up stuck to the mask. He hunched over the work with his back to the sacrificial slab, muttering bitterly to himself. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

  ‘Thug’s had an idea!’ Slasher said cheerfully.

  ‘Well, here’s one for him,’ Jimmy said. ‘Shut up and get back to work.’

  ‘That’s two actually!’ Thug said with dignity.

  ‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’ Jimmy shouted at him.

  Slasher and Thug exchanged looks.

  This whole business with Pam and the Tofflys and being shut in a chest in a dark shed by Atticus Claw and then given away to a bloodthirsty king of the ancient Maya as a bird slave had really got to their leader. He seemed to have lost his appetite for shiny things.

  ‘Nah, honest, Boss, it’s a good one,’ Slasher urged.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Jimmy snapped. ‘What is it?’

  Slasher told him.

  Jimmy’s eyes grew round. Then they grew greedy. Finally they regained some of their old sparkle. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is a very good point you make, Thug. Half of any treasure Pam gets from Prince Posh-face is mine – I mean ours – by rights.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘I’ll go and tell the old crow now.’

  He was just about to take off to find Pam when a loud squawk pierced the air.

  ‘Talk of the devil,’ he said, ‘here she is.’

  The three magpies watched as Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel led the procession up the steps of the temple to where the king sat on a great throne next to Ribena. Lord and Lady Toffly sat in front of them on three-legged stools, polishing the king’s toenails with SpoonBrite.

  The king shouted at the Tofflys to move. They shuffled to one side, bowing low. Lady Toffly’s face was suffused with rage until she saw the prisoners, then it broke into an ugly smile.

  ‘Likes a sacrifice, she does,’ Slasher remarked. ‘Cheers her up! Maybe that’s what you need, Jimmy. A nice sacrifice to watch!’

  The prisoners were pushed forward by the warriors and made to kneel in front of the king.

  ‘Stone the crows!’ Thug exclaimed. ‘Look who it is!’

  ‘It’s Claw and his buddies!’ Slasher gasped.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Jimmy said. ‘How the tables are turned! Perhaps you’re right, Slasher. A good sacrifice might cheer me up after all!’

  Thug regarded Atticus and the other cats ecstatically. ‘Four furry nest snugglers!’ he said, clapping his wings together in delight. ‘It’s like Christmas!’

  The three magpies flapped over for a better look. They were part of a much larger crowd. The arrival of the prisoners had got the whole city in uproar.

  The king held up his hand for silence.

  Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel spoke quickly to the king.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Thug asked.

  ‘Search me,’ said Slasher.

  ‘Whatever it is, the king doesn’t like it!’ Jimmy chuckled.

  The king was frothing at the mouth with anger. He gabbled something at Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel.

  Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel nodded. He reached under his tunic and pulled out the jaguar mask.

  ‘Ooh, look, he’s putting on his sacrificial mask!’ Thug said. ‘I wonder who he’ll choose first!’

  Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel jabbed a finger at Inspector Cheddar. Two warriors grabbed Inspector Cheddar’s arms and began to drag him towards the sacrificial slab.

  ‘Ha, ha, ha! Inspector Cheese is first for the chop!’ Jimmy sniggered.

  Inspector Cheddar’s body went limp. ‘He’s fainted!’ Slasher said.

  ‘What a spoilsport!’ Thug remarked.

  The warriors struggled with the Inspector’s sagging body. The king looked on crossly. He started shouting again. The warriors dropped Inspector Cheddar on the steps of the temple.

  ‘The king doesn’t like it if they don’t struggle,’ Slasher commented. ‘It’s no fun. Prince Posh-face will have to choose someone else now.’

  ‘I hope he chooses Claw!’ Thug said.

  Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel walked up and down the line of prisoners. He couldn’t seem to make his mind up who to sacrifice next. He consulted Pam.

  ‘PLAY! PLAY! PLAY! PLAY! PLAY! PLAY!’ the parrot shrieked.

  ‘What’s she on about now?’ Thug said.

  ‘I think she’s telling him to make the prisoners play the ball game,’ Jimmy said.

  ‘I didn’t know she liked sport,’ said Thug.

  ‘She doesn’t!’ Jimmy said. ‘She’s the laziest parrot in the history of parrots. All she wants is to stuff her face with mango. They sell it at the game,’ he explained. ‘She went with Posh-face yesterday; she was gassier than ever when she got back.’

  ‘What about the sacrifice?’ Thug said anxiously. He was thinking about his nest snugglers.

  ‘That happens when they lose,’ Slasher said.

  ‘What if they win?’ Thug argued.

  ‘They get to go free,’ Slasher told him.

  ‘They won’t win,’ Jimmy snapped. ‘Trust me, they haven’t got a chance. They’re playing a team from the warriors. The warriors never lose. After the game they’ll all get sacrificed together.’

  ‘Hooray!’ shouted Thug. ‘I like games!’ He frowned. ‘Which team are we supporting?’

  ‘The warriors, you moron,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Now let’s get over to the court and grab ourselves some good seats.’

  The ball court was situated next to the Acropolis. The prisoners trooped after the warriors’ team. The warriors were tall, strong and muscular. They looked as if they played the ball game every day. Atticus wondered how on earth they were going to beat them.

  ‘Look on the bright side,’ Mimi whispered. ‘At least it buys us some time.’

  That was true. It was actually quite fortunate Inspector Cheddar kept fainting, Atticus thought. Otherwise they might all have been sacrificed before he had the chance to come up with an escape plan.

  They arrived at the court. The referee opened a door in a wall. The team of warriors led the way through, the prisoners following. Atticus took in his surroundings. The ball court was rectangular in shape and about half the size of a football pitch. On the two long sides, high walls ran parallel to each other. They were covered with murals of teams of ball players being sacrificed. On the two short sides, stone steps provided seating for the crowd.

  BANG! The referee closed the door and locked it behind him. There was no other way out. What was it Professor Verry-Clever had said? The winners are treated as heroes. The losers are put to death. They were playing for their lives.

  The king took a seat in the front row at one end of the court with Ribena. Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel sat on the other side of him with Pam. Pam was already gobbling mango greedily. Yellow juice ran down her beak on to her chest feathers. She looked as if she was about to pop.

  The rest of the seating was filling up quickly with eager spectators. Atticus glimpsed the Tofflys pushing and shoving to get a seat at the back with the other slaves. Then something else caught his eye. Three black-and-white birds hovered low over the stone steps and landed on the ground at the edge of the court. Atticus’s eyes narrowed. The magpies! Trust them to come and gloat!

  ‘Team talk!’ Mrs Tucker said. They went into a huddle. ‘We’re only allowed seven players at once,’ she said, ‘so here’s the starting line up.’ She produced a scruffy bit of paper from her pocket. The team crowded round to see.

  ‘The rest of you are on the bench as substitutes. We need you to stay f
resh and be ready to sub in at short notice. Okay?’

  Everyone nodded, except Nellie, who was already sitting on the bench, knitting, and Inspector Cheddar, who was still in a faint from nearly being sacrificed. They wouldn’t be much good as substitutes, Atticus thought, but Mimi, Bones and Professor Verry-Clever would be up for it. Even so, he didn’t rate their chances against the warriors.

  ‘Now, here are the rules,’ Professor Verry-Clever said. ‘The object of the game is to get the ball into one of the hoops.’

  ‘What hoops?’ Atticus whispered to Mimi.

  ‘Up there.’ Mimi said, pointing to two stone hoops attached to the walls about halfway down the court.

  ‘How are we supposed to do that?’ Atticus said. The hoops were about five metres above the ground, near the top of the walls.

  ‘Maybe you could throw it?’ Mimi suggested. ‘Like a netball?’

  ‘You’re not allowed to touch the ball with your hands or feet or paws,’ Professor Verry-Clever was still explaining the rules.

  Atticus and Mimi exchanged glances. ‘No throwing, then,’ Mimi said.

  ‘Or kicking,’ said Atticus despondently.

  ‘What are we supposed to use?’ Callie asked the Professor.

  ‘Elbows, thighs, knees, bottoms, heads and, er, tails,’ Professor Verry-Clever said. ‘Any part of your body, really, as long as it’s not your hands and feet.’

  ‘What about me wooden leg?’ Mr Tucker asked.

  ‘I think that’s allowed,’ Professor Verry-Clever said uncertainly. ‘I can’t see why not.’

  ‘How do you score?’ Mrs Tucker said.

  ‘The winner is the first team to get the ball through the hoop,’ Professor Verry-Clever replied. He shrugged. ‘And that’s about it.’

  It sounded easy enough, Atticus thought, except for the fact that the hoop was impossible to reach, they couldn’t kick or handle the ball and they were facing a bunch of trained warriors who wanted them dead.

  Nellie got off the bench and bustled over, her skirt rustling.

  ‘I’ve knitted you some team bibs,’ Nellie hissed. She glared at the warriors. ‘They’re made of spear-proof wool in case they try any funny business.’

  ‘What sort of funny business?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Never you mind,’ Nellie said. ‘Just put it on.’

  Atticus raised his eyebrows at Thomas. Nellie was in one of her ‘do as you’re told’ moods.

  They put on their bibs.

  ‘How do I look?’ Thomas grinned at Atticus.

  ‘Great!’ Atticus smiled back weakly. The kitten’s excitement was undented despite everything. Atticus didn’t want to be the one to tell him he was about to get flattened, like Pam had (except by warriors, not a large pig). He felt Mimi squeeze his paw. He knew what she was thinking: he had to set a good example to Thomas and the kids and act brave even if he didn’t feel it.

  ‘We’ll nail them!’ he meowed to Thomas. He hoped he sounded convincing.

  You will with this, Nellie’s voice echoed in his head.

  Nellie was up to her witchy tricks again. Atticus regarded her with renewed hope. Maybe she had something else up her sleeve besides the bibs?

  Nellie reached into her knitting bag and produced a small bottle.

  Aha! thought Atticus.

  ‘Gosh, Nellie,’ Mrs Cheddar said admiringly, ‘you really do think of everything!’

  ‘Someone has to,’ Nellie said. She rubbed some of the strengthener on Thomas’s tail. It stood up, stiff as a brush. Thomas flexed it. ‘It’s like a woolly monkey’s!’ he purred in delight to the other cats.

  ‘Your turn,’ Nellie said to Atticus. He felt Nellie’s hands on his tail. PING! Up went his tail in the air.

  ‘Now you’ll be able to hit the ball with it,’ Nellie said. ‘The ball’s quite heavy, you know.’

  SWISH! Atticus tried a few practice swings.

  Just then a gong sounded for the start of the game.

  ‘Let’s do this!’ Mrs Tucker punched her fist in the air.

  ‘Good luck!’ Mimi gave Atticus a kiss and scampered off the court to the substitutes’ bench.

  Atticus’s mood had lifted. They were a great team! Mrs Tucker was pumped; Callie, Michael and Mrs Cheddar were fantastic at sport; and he and Thomas had super-strong tails. True, Mr Tucker was a bit of a worry on account of his wooden leg, but at least Inspector Cheddar wasn’t playing so nothing could go seriously wrong. With Nellie’s help, they might even win!

  The referee threw the ball into the air. It was about the size of a football, but made of rubber. Nellie was right – the ball was far too big and heavy for a cat to whack unless its tail was super-strong, like theirs. He was eager to give it a try.

  The warriors charged towards the ball. One of them hit it with his elbow. It cannoned over to Callie, who managed to get her knee under it. Up it went again. One of the warriors stuck out a leg. It ricocheted off his thigh. Mrs Cheddar headed it. Another warrior struck it with his bottom. Mrs Tucker elbowed it. Mr Tucker tried to kick it with his wooden leg and fell over. The ball hit the ground, which meant that was the end of the point. The referee picked it up and threw it back up into the air. Off they went again.

  This time Atticus got a swing at it. SWISH! BASH! It was a good strike. The ball sailed past one of the hoops, but it wasn’t anywhere close to going through.

  ‘Good work, Atticus!’ Mrs Tucker shouted.

  ‘Go, Jaguars!’ Nellie and Professor Verry-Clever yelled from the bench.

  Nellie had knitted up some pom-poms. Professor Verry-Clever, Mimi and Bones waved them enthusiastically.

  The crowd booed. They wanted the warriors to win so that the prisoners could be sacrificed.

  The next time Thomas got a shot. He thwacked it with his tail, like a baseball bat. The ball flew into the air and bounced off the wall near the hoop.

  ‘Booooo!’ yelled the crowd.

  ‘Hurray!’ shouted Nellie and Professor Verry-Clever. Mimi and Bones waved the pom-poms.

  At the next break in play the captain of the warrior team called for a timeout.

  The Littleton-on-Sea Jaguars returned to the bench and gulped thirstily at their water. The ball game was hot work, especially with Nellie’s spear-proof bibs on.

  ‘That tail strengthener is really working,’ Mrs Tucker said to Thomas and Atticus. ‘You just need to get the ball through the hoop.’

  That was easier said than done, Atticus thought. ‘We need to be closer,’ he said to Thomas. ‘We’ll never score at this rate.’

  Thomas squinted at the wall. ‘How about I climb up to the top?’ he said. ‘If you can send the ball up, then I can hit it through.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Nellie.

  ‘What is?’ asked Callie.

  Atticus kept forgetting Nellie could understand Cat. Now she’d managed to tune into Thomas as well. At least she might be able to explain his idea to the others.

  ‘Thomas is going to climb up the wall so he can get closer to the hoop,’ Nellie said. ‘All Atticus needs to do is tee it up for him and he can knock it through with his tail.’

  ‘Like volleyball!’ Callie said. ‘Except with tails instead of hands!’

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ Michael agreed.

  Atticus wasn’t sure. The wall was very high. What if Thomas fell off ? But he didn’t have time to say so. The gong went again. They were back on court.

  In the posh seats at the front, Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel was watching proceedings with growing concern. The cats were much better than he thought they would be at the ball game. For some reason they seemed to have extra-strong tails since Nellie Smellie had rubbed lotion on to their fur. The king had noticed too. He was glued to the game. He kept pointing at Nellie and the two cats on court and jabbering excitedly about magic. More worryingly still, the king was also showing a strong interest in Mrs Tucker every time she charged at the ball, whooping and whistling his encouragement. It was almost as if he fancied her!

 
Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel’s eyes narrowed. He’d sealed a deal with the king over Ribena. He didn’t want the king to change his mind and marry Mrs Tucker instead, because then he’d never become a prince or be superior to Lady Toffly. The warriors had to win. They just had to. Then the rest of them – the cats, Nellie Smellie and Ribena’s potential love rival, Mrs Tucker – would be sacrificed and that would be the end of that. He just hoped the warriors knew what they were doing. He scratched his head. It wasn’t at all obvious how, if at all, he could help them.

  He scratched Pam’s chest lovingly while he tried to think of a plan. She was dreadfully bloated, poor thing. Rather like a barrage balloon. Perhaps he should put her on a diet when all this was over …

  ‘You sure you’ll be okay?’ Atticus said to Thomas. The wall of the ball court towered above them. He didn’t think he could climb it. But then he was afraid of heights and Thomas wasn’t.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Thomas said. ‘The woolly monkeys taught me how to climb. I can get my paws in the cracks between the stones. My tail will help me balance.’

  Atticus was still uncertain. It seemed an awful risk.

  ‘Bones, come and sub in for Mr Tucker,’ Mrs Tucker shouted.

  Nellie rubbed Bones’s tail with tail strengthener. Bones raced on to the court. The referee threw the ball in the air.

  The warriors charged forwards again. Only this time they didn’t go for the ball.

  THUNK! A sandal-clad foot struck Atticus hard in the chest. Atticus rolled over and over in the dust. If it hadn’t been for Nellie’s spear-proof bib he would have been dead. Atticus picked himself up and did a cat stretch. He felt winded but he didn’t think anything was broken.

  ‘So you want to play dirty, then,’ Mrs Tucker said to the warriors. She rolled up her sleeves and showed them her tattoo:

  DON’T MESS WITH EDNA IF YOU

  WANT TO KEEP YOUR TEETH

  ‘How about you pick on someone your own size!’