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Gargoylz at a Midnight Feast

Page 2

by Jan Burchett


  Lucinda gave a loud shriek and turned to run back into school with everyone else. But she’d forgotten she was still tied to Max. She took one step and fell face down in a puddle.

  Trying not to laugh too loudly, Max and Ben hurried to undo their ropes and help Lucinda up. By the time they’d hauled her to her feet she was covered from head to foot in cold wet mud.

  “Shame,” giggled Ben as they watched her squelching across the grass with Tiffany. “Not our fault if a bit of extra mud accidentally got wiped all over her.”

  Max spotted Toby beckoning from the hedge and ran over through the teeming rain. Ben followed him across the grass. The gargoylz had big grins on their stone faces. Zack was rolling over and over, giggling helplessly.

  Toby gave them a thumbs-up. “Good trick on Lucinda,” he chortled. “I haven’t laughed so much since we put the vicar’s Harvest Festival display on the roof.”

  “And that rain came just at the right moment,” said Max. “What luck!”

  “That wasn’t luck,” said Toby. “That was Ira’s special power.”

  “Ira can make it rain?” gasped Ben in amazement. “Awesome!”

  “Only in short bursts,” explained Toby.

  “But for long enough to save us,” said Max. “Thanks, Ira.”

  “Anything for a shipmate!” squawked Ira, saluting them from the hedge.

  The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started. Ben wrung out his T-shirt. “We’d better go back to school,” he said.

  “See you again soon, gargoylz,” Max called into the hedge. “This has been the best Sports Day ever!”

  2. Barney Cooks Up a Storm

  MAX AND BEN whirred through the school gates in their imaginary spy helicopter.

  “Secret Mission: Spot the Gargoylz!” whispered Max, chugging to a halt.

  “Right away, Agent Black.” Ben put his hands up to his eyes like binoculars and scanned the church roof. “No sign of them. Not even a tail.”

  “Try the churchyard,” suggested Max.

  The boys zoomed across to the wall between Oldacre School and the church next door. They peered over. Five stony shapes were huddled together in the long grass.

  Max’s spy radar whirred into action: small, cheeky, full of tricks. He knew what that meant. It was their secret friends, the gargoylz.

  Toby’s head popped up from the huddle. “Greetingz!” he called across in a doleful voice. He flew onto the wall next to the boys. Barney, Theo, Eli and Zack scrambled up to join him. The five gargoylz sat in a row, their tails drooping.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Max, looking at their mournful faces. “You haven’t run out of pranks, have you?”

  Toby shook his head. “Of course not!” he exclaimed. “That could never happen. We’re just worried about Bart. You know he’s always a bit grumpy . . .”

  “Well, lately he’s got worse . . .” Theo told the boys, his tiger ears flopping sadly.

  “And now he’s really misssserable,” hissed Eli.

  “We’re trying to find a way to stop him being so down in the dumps,” said Barney.

  “Bounce on him?” suggested Zack, jumping up and down on his big floppy feet.

  “That would probably make him grumpier than ever,” laughed Max. “But there must be something we can do.”

  “I’ve got an idea!” Ben said suddenly. “Max is coming for a sleepover on Friday night. Why don’t you all come too? If you bring Bart we could give him a surprise party!” The gargoylz looked puzzled.

  “What’s a sleepover?” asked Toby, scratching his stony head with one claw.

  “It’s when you sleep at a friend’s house,” explained Max. “Only you don’t sleep much – you stay up really late and have a midnight feast and play games and tell stories! It’s awesome!”

  Toby’s golden eyes lit up. “Dangling drainpipes!” he shouted. “That’ll be just the thing for Bart!”

  The spikes on Barney’s back quivered happily and Zack jumped over Theo’s head in excitement. Suddenly they all heard menacing footsteps clomping across the playground towards them. The gargoylz froze into statues.

  Max activated his spy radar: grey hair, beaky nose, teeth like a crocodile. It was Enemy Agent Mrs Hogsbottom, commonly known as Mrs Hogsbum, codename: Evil Head Teacher. She had come halfway across the playground and now stopped to shout at the boys.

  The gargoylz sat on the wall with frozen grins. “School rule number three hundred and fifty-nine,” yelled Mrs Hogsbottom, “boys must not put ugly stone things on school walls. Get rid of them and go to your classroom. Immediately!” She stomped off again towards her office.

  “Who’s she calling ugly?” protested Toby. “Her face could crack mirrors!”

  “I don’t think she’s ever looked in a mirror,” said Ben. “She’d frighten herself to death.”

  Max heard Mrs Hogsbum’s office window opening. “Better go,” he hissed. “See you later.”

  The boys sped off into school. When Max turned at the door and looked back, the gargoylz had gone.

  “Miss Bleet’s in the worst mood in the history of worst moods,” muttered Max as he and Ben sat in class after play, chewing their pencils.

  “Too right,” agreed Ben. “Every time I read my comic instead of my English book she tells me off! Weird!”

  “And when we were looking out of the window at Barney earlier she got really cross,” said Max. “We told her it was important but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “I wonder what Barney was doing running across the playground anyway,” said Ben. “He had a piece of paper in his paw.”

  “It must have been important,” said Max. “He was in such a hurry.”

  “Max and Ben,” quavered Miss Bleet, “please stop chattering! I am having a very bad morning and you’re making it worse!” She dabbed at her forehead with her hankie.

  “What’s wrong, miss?” asked Ben.

  “There was no sugar for my coffee,” she told them grumpily. “None! It’s disappeared. I can’t get through the morning without coffee and I can’t drink coffee without sugar – especially with you two in the class!”

  “I’ve had something go missing too,” piped up Tiffany. “My chocolate bar wasn’t in my bag at playtime.”

  “Nor was mine,” called Duncan.

  “And my Chocomunch had vanished from my pocket when I looked for it,” declared Lucinda loudly. “It was a specially big one.”

  Several other voices joined in until there was a clamour of complaints around the classroom.

  “That’s enough!” exclaimed Miss Bleet, clutching her head. “You’ll just have to manage without. I’ll look into it later. Now, get on with your work.”

  The two boys looked at each other.

  “We’re the only ones who didn’t have their snacks pinched,” Ben whispered to Max. “I wonder why.”

  “Something very strange is going on in this school,” Max whispered back. “We’ve got a new secret mission, Agent Neal. We must find the missing sugar and chocolate.”

  “Agreed, Agent Black,” answered Ben. “After lunch though. It’s jam sponge for pudding today. My favourite!”

  “No jam sponge!” exclaimed Ben as he and Max stood at the hatch at lunch time. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Sorry, dear, but we couldn’t make any today,” Mrs Coddle the dinner lady told him. “The eggs have all disappeared. Every single one. We’ll make one tomorrow. You’ll have to have an apple for now.” She plonked one down on Ben’s plate.

  Ben looked up at her with pleading blue eyes.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, and fetched him a banana to go with it. Max’s eyes narrowed. “Our mission has changed, Agent Neal,” he muttered as the boys mooched off to find a table. “There’s a food thief in school – someone who likes sugar, chocolate and eggs – and it’s our job to find out who it is.”

  As soon as they had finished their lunch, the boys ran out into the playground.

  “Let’s snoop around for a bit,�
�� said Max. “See if we can find a hoard of stolen food.”

  They sneaked about, holding imaginary magnifying glasses and trying to spot someone with a pocket full of chocolate bars.

  “What’s this?” Max said suddenly. There was a pile of chocolate wrappers by the staffroom window. “Is the thief one of the teachers?” He peered through the window at the teachers, who were having their lunch. No one was eating chocolate. Then a foil wrapper fluttered down from the roof. Max and Ben looked up. Barney was sitting in the gutter – covered in sticky brown goo!

  “What are you up to?” asked Max curiously.

  Barney went red under his goo. “I’m making chocolate chip cookiez for the midnight feast,” he explained shyly. He produced a bowl and spoon and flapped a piece of paper. “I got this recipe from the vicar’s cookery book. Then I . . . er . . . found some sugar and eggs and chocolate.” He licked his lips. “Chocolate,” he sighed. “Yum!”

  Max and Ben looked at each other.

  “So the mystery of the food thief is solved!” Max whispered to Ben. “Great idea, Barney,” he called up, “but how are you going to cook the cookies?”

  There was a small roar from the roof and Max and Ben jumped in alarm as a long flame suddenly flickered over the guttering.

  “Don’t worry,” Barney told them. “That’s just my friend Azzan. Come and say hello, Azzan.”

  A dragon-like gargoyle with scaly skin and a long swishing tail poked his head over the edge of the roof.

  “Humanz!” he cried in alarm, opening his mouth and taking a huge breath. Barney quickly reached out a paw and clamped his jaws shut.

  “No more fire, Azzan!” he said, looking worried. “These are our friends. We don’t want to frazzle them.”

  “I’m baking the cookiez,” said Azzan proudly when Barney finally let go.

  “You know my special power is making smellz,” Barney told the boys. “Well, Azzan’s is breathing fire.”

  “That’s great!” said Ben, wide-eyed in amazement.

  “There’s only one problem,” Barney explained. “Azzan’s fire doesn’t last very long and he can’t always control it – a bit like me and my smellz. Some of my cooking got a tiny bit burned.” He scuttled off and came back with a tray. It was covered in smouldering black cookies.

  “It’s OK.” Azzan grinned. “We’ve got plenty more ingredients. Come and look.”

  Max and Ben scrambled onto a nearby dustbin so that they could see onto the roof. The dragony gargoyle was pushing his nose into a pile of chocolate bars, sugar and boxes of eggs. A little flame suddenly shot out of his mouth and set fire to one of the boxes.

  “Ooops!” Azzan cried, and jumped up and down on it. By the time the flames had gone out he was knee-deep in egg yolk. “Never mind,” he said chirpily. “Plenty more where they came from.”

  “You’ve got about sixty eggs there!” exclaimed Max. “You won’t need all those for the cookies.”

  “Won’t we?” said Barney. “Oh dear. What shall we do with them?”

  “We must give some back to the dinner ladies,” said Ben, looking worried. “Otherwise they won’t be able to make their yummy jam sponge tomorrow.”

  “Tell you what,” said Max, “we’ll take the eggs you don’t need – that’s most of them – back to the kitchen.”

  “But what if someone sees you?” protested Barney anxiously as he and Azzan carefully handed the boxes of eggs down to the boys. “Theo nearly got caught by a human waving a big ladle when he was getting them for me.”

  “Good point,” said Max, scratching his head for a moment. “Got it! Azzan, we’ll need your help with a trick. You just have to sneak in through that door there and breathe some flames onto the fire detector – that’s the round white thing on the ceiling in the corridor. That’ll make the alarm go off and everyone will think there’s a fire and leave the building.”

  “And we’ll put the eggs back while the dinner ladies are out in the playground!” finished Ben. “Brilliant idea, Agent Black!”

  “A prank! A prank! We’re going to do a prank!” chanted Barney. A terrible pong filled the air.

  “Barney’s done a bottom burp!” wheezed Azzan in delight, sending a small burst of sparks dancing across the roof.

  Clutching the egg boxes, Max and Ben sneaked off behind the bins that stood next to the kitchen window. From there they watched Azzan shin down the drainpipe and slip in through the nearest door. A few seconds later – clang! clang! clang! – a loud alarm bell rang out across the school. Azzan scampered back to the roof and soon everyone was pouring out of the buildings into the playground, shrieking and yelling. The dinner ladies burst out of the kitchen, carrying dishcloths and wooden spoons.

  “Go, go, go!” Agent Black cried. “The kitchen should be empty now.”

  The two boys slipped in through the window. Suddenly a door opened on the other side of the room. They dived down behind a counter and squeezed onto a shelf between a sausage-making machine and a giant teapot.

  Max’s spy radar whirred into action: stout legs, white overall, strong smell of mashed potato. He knew what that meant. It was Mrs Simmer, chief cook, codename: Manic Masher. She marched towards the boys’ hiding place.

  “There’s a fire,” they heard her mutter. “I must rescue my potato masher!”

  Max and Ben held their breath as Mrs Simmer’s footsteps went past them. She opened a drawer above their heads, took something out and then hurried off into the playground.

  “I thought she was never going to leave,” said Ben. “I was dead uncomfortable. I was sitting on the teapot spout.”

  “She shouldn’t have hung around,” said Max disapprovingly as the boys crawled out of their hiding place. “She could’ve got burned.”

  “It wasn’t a real fire,” Ben reminded him.

  “Yeah, but she didn’t know that,” insisted Max.

  Ben nodded in agreement. “Grown-ups are idiots.”

  They put the eggs on the counter, high-fived and raced to join their class, just as Miss Bleet was calling the register.

  After school Max and Ben tore out into the playground.

  “Can’t wait to see how Barney’s cookies are coming on,” said Ben. “He should have made plenty by now.”

  “Hope he lets us try one,” said Max. “Look, he’s over there on the church roof.”

  They ran into the churchyard and peered up at the porch. Barney was clutching a large bowl and trying to stop Toby and Azzan dipping their paws in it. A runny brown mixture slopped over the rim.

  “Hey, Barney,” called Max. “How’s the cooking going?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid,” Barney admitted sadly. “Toby put too much butter in one batch, Azzan set fire to the next lot and this is my last bowlful. I’m not going to let anything happen to it.”

  He held it out to show the boys. As he did, there was a POP! and Zack suddenly appeared out of thin air, racing up the wall of the church.

  “Where are the cookiez?” he yelled, springing eagerly onto the porch and landing in the middle of the gargoylz. The bowl of cookie mixture was knocked clean out of Barney’s paws and flew up into the air. Splat! It landed upside down on Barney’s head, and Max and Ben and the gargoylz were all covered in sticky chocolate goo.

  For a moment there was silence. Then everyone burst out laughing.

  “Spluttering gutterz!” gasped Toby. “I haven’t had such fun since Azzan ran along the washing line and singed the vicar’s knickers!”

  Barney pushed the mixing bowl off his head and it tumbled over the edge of the roof. Ben caught it.

  “Don’t know why I bothered trying to cook this,” Barney said, licking his lips as his friends started slurping up the spilled cookie mixture. “It’s delicious as it is!”

  Max and Ben dipped their fingers into the bowl and tried a bit for themselves.

  “You’re right!” declared Max with a grin.

  “It’s scrumptious!” Ben agreed.

  And then eve
ryone was too busy slurping to say anything else at all.

  3. Secret Plan: Free Theo

  IT WAS FRIDAY evening. Secret Agent Max Black sped along the pavement in his imaginary spy motor boat with a top secret cargo in his rucksack. He had to get to fellow Agent Ben Neal’s headquarters without delay.

  He swerved to a halt at Ben’s front door.

  “Can I get out now?” came a grumpy voice from the rucksack. “That was a very uncomfortable ride.”

  “Sorry, Bart,” Max whispered over his shoulder as he rang the bell. “But you’ll have to wait a bit longer. Someone might spot you here – and you know gargoylz mustn’t be seen by humans.”

  “Hmmph!” came the cross reply. “Where are we anyway?”

  “Can’t tell you,” said Max. “But I think you’ll like it.”

  Bart had been extra grumpy recently so Max, Ben and the other gargolyz had arranged a surprise sleepover to cheer him up.

  The front door opened.

  “Hello, Max,” said Ben’s mum, showing him in. “Ben’s in his room. Go on up.”

  Max leaped up the stairs and knocked on Ben’s bedroom door.

  “Top secret delivery, Agent Neal,” he whispered.

  The door opened a little and Ben’s beaming face could be seen through the gap. “Is the coast clear, Agent Black?” he asked.

  “Clear,” answered Max. Ben let him in.

  Max opened his rucksack. “About time too,” grumbled Bart, climbing out and straightening his gladiator’s skirt. “I don’t enjoy being shaken about like a—”

  Bart stopped and his pointed ears shot up in amazement. He was in a bedroom, and there in front of him, in a grinning row on the bed, sat Toby, Zack, Eli and Barney.

  “Sleepover surprise at Ben’s house!” yelled the gargoylz.

 

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