Hamster Gangster

by Angela Robb

  ‘Of course,’ I reply. I guess this means I’m looking out for owls.

  We walk through the gates. I hear a rustling sound behind us. Or did I? I might have imagined it, but I’d swear Nev is suddenly moving more slowly, more softly.

  There it is again. We stop. We look at each other. As one, we turn around, looking this way and that while slowly walking backwards, deeper into the park.

  And again! Closer this time – coming from the bushes to our right.

  Whoa! Something shoots out of the undergrowth – darts on to the dimly lit path – straight towards Nev!

  It smacks into him, bowls him over.

  ‘AAAAAHHH!’ he cries.

  Mind you … Nev’s attacker is very small, and familiar, and is wearing a pink shoelace around her head.

  ‘Nev …’

  He is still yelling.

  ‘It’s all right, Nev. It’s only Tina.’

  Nev stares at his little sister in shock. Tina rolls on to the ground, laughing.

  ‘Tina!’ Nev scrambles to his feet. He looks ready to explode. ‘No! This cannot be happening! You can’t be here, Tina, you just can’t!’

  Now it’s Tina’s turn to look annoyed. ‘Yes I can! I’m a way better spy than you are! I followed you here, didn’t I, and you didn’t even know I was there!’

  Nev groans. ‘This isn’t a game, Tina. You’re not old enough to come on these trips. Mum and Dad will be worried sick …’

  ‘You’re not sending me home!’

  ‘Too right, I’m not sending you home. It’s far too dangerous for you to go back alone at this time of night.’

  Perhaps that was a kind of mind trick, designed to make Tina want to turn around and go home, just to prove she can. If it was, it didn’t work. She folds her arms and glares.

  ‘Okay,’ says Nev, ‘how about this: why don’t you stay here, and keep a lookout? Now that’s an important job.’

  Tina considers this. ‘Looking out for foes?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’ll be the first to see ’em coming.’

  ‘Our lives will be in your hands.’

  Tina looks thoughtful. ‘All right then,’ she says importantly. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Look over here,’ I tell the others. I drag a large empty sweetie packet from under a bush. ‘If you hide in this, Tina, you can stay on the path and get a much better view than you’d get from the bushes.’

  Tina crawls inside the packet. She looks out at us through the clear window in the front, and grins. ‘I can see everything!’ she exclaims in a muffled voice.

  Somehow I doubt that she can, since the window is rather small, and smeared with sticky sugar.

  ‘Excellent,’ says Nev.

  And so we leave Tina in a sweetie bag by the gates, and slip silently across the grass. I don’t see why she can’t join in, but then, Nev is only trying to protect his little sister …

  I have a sudden, strange feeling – a distant memory of my smallest brother, I think. That’s right: he fell off the hamster wheel and I ran straight over, worried he might be hurt …

  I give myself a shake, and the memory’s gone. I have to concentrate on the here and now, because this is it: we’re running through open space, with no cover for miles around. My heart is thudding with excitement. I can’t see very much in the dark, but Nev has made this journey many times and seems to know exactly where to go.

  ‘Here we are,’ he says.

  We stop beside the same molehill that Dwayne popped out of the last time we met. Nev picks up a pebble that was half-buried in the mound, moves a few feet away, and hurls the stone at the molehill.

  It lands with a soft smack and sets off a tiny landslide.

  ‘Give him ten seconds,’ says Nev.

  I count in my head … five, six, seven, eight … Already the soil is flying – and now up pops Dwayne: pink hands, followed by pink nose, followed by black fuzzy head.

  The pink nose sniffs.

  ‘Nev?’ asks Dwayne. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘It is me, and a friend of mine who I think you’ve met before.’

  The nose sniffs again, then suddenly stops. ‘It can’t be …’

  ‘Hello Dwayne!’ I say. ‘It’s me, Rocco. It’s so great to see you again. I joined the gang, as you can tell.’

  ‘Er … yes. That’s good, I suppose.’

  ‘Can we come in, Dwayne?’ Nev glances around nervously. ‘It’s feeling a bit, you know … chilly out here.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course.’

  Dwayne disappears into the molehill, and we quickly follow. It’s pitch dark down here.

  ‘Come in here,’ says Dwayne, nudging us into what feels like a small chamber.

  ‘Thanks Dwayne,’ says Nev. ‘We’ll keep this as short as possible, because my sister’s in a sweetie packet out by the gates.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I guess you know why we’re here, anyway, so just fire ahead. Tell us whatever you know.’

  Of course, I can’t make out Dwayne’s face in the dark – but somehow his silence speaks volumes.

  ‘No,’ he says. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know.’

  ‘It’s the alley cats,’ I say helpfully. ‘We need to know everything you’ve got on the deal they’re doing with the foxes down at the docks.’

  ‘That’s right,’ adds Nev. ‘Everything on when they’re moving in, and what they plan to do next.’

  Despite the darkness – not to mention his blindness – I sense that Dwayne is really staring at us.

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘We’re talking about how the alley cats are buying the foxes’ patch,’ I tell him, ‘so that they can take over the docks.’

  As you’ll remember, the last time I was here I learned that you do have to prod Dwayne for information.

  ‘Do you have anything on the alley cats?’ asks Nev. He’s beginning to sound worried.

  ‘Well, no,’ says Dwayne, and now there’s real panic in his voice, ‘not since they tried to hijack Lou’s fresh fish van on its way to Chef Claude’s. That was three weeks ago.’

  ‘You see, Rocco overheard a conversation between one of the cats and one of the foxes.’

  ‘Plotting our downfall,’ I chip in, because this conversation is not proving as exciting as I had hoped.

  ‘Well you know a lot more than me, I’m afraid,’ says Dwayne. ‘Oh, gosh – I’ve been trying so hard to spy on them, I really have, but it just seemed like they weren’t doing anything.’

  Nev sighs. ‘This isn’t good,’ he says. ‘They’re crafty, if they can keep a plan as big as this one completely spy-proof.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s all right, Dwayne. It’s not your fault.’ I can hear Nev shuffling back into the tunnel. ‘We better get back up there and collect my little sister, before it gets any later.’

  We’re heading back towards the molehill.

  ‘Please!’ wails Dwayne. ‘Tell the Big Cheese I’ve tried my best!’

  ‘Of course we will,’ says Nev. ‘Don’t you worry.’ But I know Nev is just as worried as the mole.

  We scramble back up to the surface. As we pull ourselves out of the soil, I am suddenly aware of something square-shaped running headlong towards us.

  ‘What’s that?’ I ask, squinting through the darkness.

  ‘AAAHH!’ replies Nev. ‘What the—?!’

  Together we start scrabbling back into the earth, but Dwayne has been coming up right behind us and is screaming for us to stop.

  I turn around. I could swear that the running square just let out a muffled yell of its own. And at last I can make out the words FIZZTASTIC FEAST across its front.

  ‘It’s Tina!’ I shout.

  ‘Tina?’ Nev half-tumbles off the molehil
l. ‘Tina, what’s the matter?’

  ‘OOWWW!’ exclaims Tina from inside the packet.

  ‘What did you say? Are you hurt?’ screams Nev. Together, we lift the bag clear of her head.

  ‘NO!!!’ comes the reply. She points up – or behind – it’s difficult to say where. ‘I said there’s an OWL!!’

  ‘OWL!’ shrieks Dwayne, diving back into the tunnel.

  Nev, Tina and I grab each other in a three-way hug, dropping the bag over ourselves.

  ‘Where?’ whispers Nev.

  ‘I don’t know where he is now,’ says Tina, annoyed. ‘I had to run all the way over here to tell you, because that’s my job, and now he could be anywhere.’

  It’s a bit crowded with three of us in this bag. We’re breathing hard, and it’s already getting hot and rather syrupy.

  ‘I suppose we’d better stay in the packet,’ I say, reluctantly, ‘and try to make our way back to the gates.’

  ‘Rocco’s right,’ agrees Nev. ‘We’ll take it slowly. Everyone just keep both eyes on the sky.’

  We begin shuffling our way across the park, stepping on each other’s toes. The bag is sticking to me back and front. And worst of all, the window in the front of the packet is now completely covered in a gloopy mix of hot breath and sugar.

  ‘I don’t think we’re moving in a straight line,’ I say. ‘Maybe we should stop and get our bearings.’

  We stop.

  ‘We need to take the bag off for a moment,’ I say.

  ‘How’s about this,’ says Nev. ‘We take it off, I’ll look for the gates, Tina can watch the sky ahead and to the left of us, and Rocco can look out behind and to the right. We all count to three, then the bag goes back on. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed!’ say Tina and I together.

  We slide the slick packet over our heads. I gasp in the fresh air and feel completely lost. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s confused, because rather than scanning our patches of sky, Tina and I are staring straight at one another.

  ‘One …’ says Nev slowly. He screws up his eyes as he peers through the darkness.

  I look up.

  ‘… two …’

  I hear something. It’s … a flapping sound … like wings!

  ‘THREE, THREE, THREE!!’ screams Tina.

  We snatch up the packet and lift it over our heads. The plastic crinkles as we all pull it in different directions.

  I’d swear I just felt it tear.

  ‘AAAAHHHHH!!!’

  We’re under attack! Oh, you must be kidding me – a pair of clawed feet are pressing down on us through the packet.

  ‘THE PATH IS THAT WAY!!’ yells Nev.

  WHAT WAY??!! Somehow we’re all running in the same direction. But I can feel that tear widening, and—

  AAAH! One of those claws, tickling my side!

  Just run, Rocco. And breathe. Run and—

  —breathe!

  The rush of cool night air can only mean one thing:

  ‘PACKET’S GONE!!’ I cry.

  We stop running, grab hold of each other, look up. Our attacker is flying away, carrying the sweetie bag, lost already in the darkness …

  ‘He thinks he’s got us!’ whispers Nev.

  But hang on … isn’t that the packet, fluttering back to earth?

  I can make out the outline of beating wings … circling around … heading straight for us.

  ‘Not any more, he doesn’t!’ I hiss.

  ‘Take cover!’ cries Tina, and we all dive forward. I glance up – the owl is plunging through the air.

  Don’t. Get. Eaten.

  We leap.

  Snatch up the precious slip of plastic.

  Run.

  Holding the bag over our heads now, and oh, help, the claws are back, and the deafening beat of those wings, right in my ears.

  But now it’s suddenly gone quiet. I’ll bet the winged villain is flying up nice and high, preparing for a killer dive.

  ‘TREES AT TWO O’CLOCK!!’ hollers Nev.

  ‘TREES WHEN?’ I ask.

  ‘CRASH ‘N’ BURN BIRDIE!’ declares Tina.

  I lift my corner of the sweetie packet, just enough to glance at what lies ahead. I see the trees – and I get the idea.

  ‘KEEP GOING STRAIGHT!’ I shout. ‘TILL THE VERY LAST MINUTE!’

  We run faster than ever …

  Ignore the wing noise …

  But it’s coming back fast.

  A tree root looms ahead. We swerve suddenly to the right—

  And are followed.

  OOMPH.

  That is the sound of an owl in flight smacking into a tree trunk.

  ‘Bullseye!’ says Tina.

  He’s dazed, no doubt. But we’re not hanging around to find out. Of course, I could do with getting my breath back, but … too risky to stand still …

  So we keep running.

  Grass is more worn here. Bit muddy.

  Think that means we’re near the—

  —path. We all stumble as we hit the tarmac, but by now we’re even tripping in perfect harmony. We sprint across its smooth surface—

  ‘Ow!’ says Nev.

  We’re lying in a prickly bush. Everyone is gasping for air. Should we move? Maybe someone should move, take a look outside the bush. Tina’s peering out through the tangle of spiky little branches.

  ‘It’s the gates!’ she says.

  Nev and I pull each other to our feet.

  ‘Any sign of you-know-who?’ asks Nev.

  ‘Negative!’

  We drag the sweetie bag clear of the bush. You can’t be too careful in warfare, so we pull it back over our heads and tiptoe towards the gates.

  And so at last we reach the street.

  We lift off the bag, toss it aside. Nev looks up at the bright street light overhead. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘it might not be a bad idea to keep ourselves under cover.’

  Enough said. I think we’re all feeling a little too visible right now. So it’s back on with the bag, and off we go.

  19

  A Business Proposal

  Let’s just say the rats are deeply unhappy about the news of the alley cats’ secrecy. Like Dwayne himself, Nev and I feared that the Big Cheese might be furious with our clueless mole, but he’s too busy getting angry about the foxes’ betrayal.

  ‘GOOD HONEST BUSINESS RATS, THAT’S ALL WE’VE EVER BEEN TO THEM. NEVER LET THOSE GULLS PINCH A THING. AND THIS IS HOW THEY PAY US BACK. WELL THE FINAL PAYBACK WILL BE OURS, AND NO MISTAKE.’

  What does he mean by that, you ask?

  Let me bring you up to speed. We have just learned that the gang would now like to collect a bigger variety of awesome deadly weapons: a whole new range. Not because an all-out feud with the foxes is likely; after all, those foxes can’t handle themselves in a fight. No, the idea is to threaten them until they promise to call off their deal with the cats. I’m sure that a few stern words will do the trick, but the new weapons will be good to have, just for effect. Of course, it’s possible the cats will still attack, all in a rage over the deal falling through, or seeing at last that the foxes aren’t capable of being dangerous. And that’s when the new weaponry will be essential.

  All right, so the rats are very specific about the type of weapons we’ll be collecting. They must be sharp. They are also likely to be shiny, because we’re going to get them from an arms trading deal with a gang of magpies.

  ‘THAT’S ONE THING I’LL SAY FOR THEM MAGPIES,’ the Big Cheese is saying, ‘THEY’RE NEVER SHORT ON THINGS WHAT ARE SHARP AND THINGS WHAT ARE SHINY.’

  I’m not sure why shiny is an advantage, but it’s certainly going down well with the crowd. I think the Big Cheese is beginning to enjoy himself; he seems very excited about what he calls an unscheduled business meeting in the foxes’
yard. ‘AND THEM FOXES BETTER DO AS THEY’RE TOLD,’ he assures us, ‘OR IT’S CURTAINS FOR THEM AND THEIR MOGGY MATES. NOW. SOMEONE GO SET UP AN APPOINTMENT WITH THE MAGPIES.’

  Four rats group together and run from the chamber.

  ‘AND ONE MORE THING. IT MIGHT BE BEST IF THE ’AMSTER TAGS ALONG WHEN YOU DO THE DEAL. HE SEEMS TO BE ’ANDY IN A TIGHT SPOT.’

  I can feel a warm glow inside me.

  Back at the mouse house, the mice, as usual, are less enthusiastic. I don’t quite understand why; after all, my next outing with the rats is only to carry out a simple business deal.

  Tina, of course, is disappointed not to be going.

  ‘Don’t worry, Tina – you won’t miss anything,’ I tell her. ‘The magpies know all about my fearsome reputation. My being there will put them off trying any funny business.’

  This seems to cheer her up, and I think she’s okay about being left behind. After all, a proper fight might just be coming – rodents versus cats – and if it does come she’ll have plenty opportunities to shine as a martial arts warrior.

  It’s time for bed, so I hop into the matchbox where I sleep, right next to Nev’s.

  ‘You know, Rocco,’ says Nev, ‘sometimes these things get sticky. There’s no shame whatsoever in just keeping out of sight.’

  Sometimes I rather suspect that he’s missing the point.

  20

  Trick or Treat

  We’re ready to go. The weapons spread out before me are like nothing I’ve ever seen. There are pizza wheels, fish slices, wooden spoons. This is the life I’ve been dreaming of.

  Naturally, the idea behind tonight’s meeting is that we will take one or two of each kind of weapon, and swap them for whatever it is that the magpies have to offer. Now the mice have told me, many times, to keep quiet in the company of the rats, but right now I’m much too excited to do that. Besides, I am Rocco the Infamous, most powerful rodent on this trip and all-round star of the show.

  ‘Shall we be giving the magpies one of everything?’ I ask.

  From the long silence, I’d say the answer is most likely no. I think someone at the back of the room just gave a chuckle. Yes, they did, because now everyone’s laughing. A large chubby rat gives me a slap on the back that nearly knocks me flat.