Chapter One
Harry opened his spesh eye. It was his special eye because, when he was in bed, it always pointed towards the crack in the curtains that let in the sliver of light that told him it was dawn and time to get out of bed. If it was a really good day, the sliver of light would be golden and warm and would sting his eye pleasantly as it would be super sunshine.
Today was very sunny, Harry scrunched his eye closed as he hooked his legs over the side of the bed. In a whirl of arms and legs he picked up his hat from the table beside his bed, dropped it onto his head, removed his pyjamas and replaced them with the T shirt and shorts he had prepared for the sunny day he was expecting – all without disturbing his hat. This was Harry’s neatest trick. However, Harry couldn’t find his socks… never mind – nannan wouldn’t notice. Harry bounded down the staircase, skittering and sliding on the kitchen floor just as nannan flipped the first pancake.
‘Good morning Harry,’ nannan said as Harry grabbed the fridge door to halt his slide ‘pancakes?’
‘Erm, two please.’ said Harry, who was keen to move on to the main business of the day.
‘Nannan,’ he started ‘may I go into the woods with my metal detector and look for buried treasure?’
Nannan was finishing the second side of the second pancake, she flipped it to join the first on Harry’s plate and carried it over to the breakfast table.
‘Can I nannan?’ Harry pleaded as he squirted maple syrup onto his pancakes ‘Please…’
‘Hmm. Eat your breakfast while I think.’ nannan suggested.
As he picked up his knife and fork Harry continued – ‘I want to find the treasure before anyone else does, nannan!’
‘If you eat all your breakfast, brush your teeth and promise to stay where I can see you from this window,’ nannan said whilst pointing at the only window overlooking the woodland at the bottom of the garden ‘then you can go into the woods for ten minutes. If you haven’t found any treasure by then, there probably isn’t any.’
Harry grabbed a handful of blueberries from the bowl on the table, herded them onto one of the pancakes, placed the second pancake on top and squished them into a sandwich. ‘Deal!’ he grinned and gave nannan a thumbs-up.
oo00oo
Nannan wiped the frothy white toothpaste from Harry’s chin and pointed in the direction of his wellingtons.
‘Oh, nannan! Can’t I wear my trainers? It’s not wet…’
‘Okay,’ said nannan ‘you win this one. But you wear your diver’s suit in the bath tonight…’ nannan joked. Harry had no idea what she was talking about but thought this was fair enough if it meant he could wear his trainers.
‘And find some socks!’ Nannan shouted as Harry disappeared into the hallway.
Harry ran back to his bedroom, threw open the wardrobe door and grabbed his utility belt. He made sure it had the apple he didn’t finish last weekend – more than half of it was left; checked that he had the compass from Gurky’s boat and the magnifying glass nannan gave him from her Christmas cracker last year.
Next, he fixed the folding shovel with pickaxe attachment onto the other side to his utility belt and checked himself in the mirror. Something was missing. Aha! The metal detector! Harry tapped his forehead with the heel of his hand and picked up his torch – he knew he would need the torch to help him find the metal detector that was surely buried under a mountain of shoes in the under-stairs cupboard. Seconds later he was fully equipped, his metal detector turned on and bleeping softly in anticipation. Finally, he rummaged in a drawer to find a pair of socks.
Nannan opened the kitchen door to let Harry into the garden. ‘No further than the tenth tree.’ she reminded him, ‘I can’t see you if you go any further.’
Harry felt he needed to reassure nannan – ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Anyway, I have my compass, I’ll find my way back.’ Harry pulled down the peak of his cap and checked the needle on his compass, it was spinning wildly – first clockwise and then anticlockwise… ‘Ah, this way I think.’ Harry supposed and began his trek.
Stepping onto the path that led to the lawn and following the straight line Gurky had mowed into the grass, Harry reached the gate leading into the woods. The gate creaked open as he pulled on the handle. The steep steps led Harry down to the stream that needed a quick hop to get to the other side. He had done this hundreds of times and had no trouble reaching the patch of unfortunate bluebells now carpeting his landing spot. ‘Sorry.’ Harry said with a sad face.
Harry knew that nannan would not be able to see him now and considered following the stream for a while and popping up in a different place but knew nannan wouldn’t get the joke; she didn’t joke where Harry’s safety was concerned. So, he climbed the equally steep hill opposite the steps until he reached the top where he stopped and turned to look in the direction of nannan’s house. She was waving her arms as though Harry had always been visible – maybe nannans could see around corners? Even when the corner went down instead of around!? Nannans have powers!
Harry waved back and took a deep breath before carrying on along the dingy path. He waved his metal detector from side to side and, just to feel extra safe he waved his torch too.
Whoo,whoo,whoo,whoo the detector sang. Harry needed to hear: ‘Wheeeeeeeee’.
He continued along the path taking very small steps so that he wouldn’t miss anything, but also to make the time last longer. Harry had almost reached the point where he agreed with nannan that he would stop. The tenth tree had an X drawn on it by Gurky. This was a joke that Harry didn’t understand until Gurky explained that ‘X marks the spot’ and also ‘X’ is Roman for ten. Just as he was about to turn around, his metal detector changed it’s sound. ‘Whee…whee’.
Harry stopped. He waved the detector slowly – trying to find a stronger signal. Wheeee. Harry moved to the right – Whee, then to the left – Wheeeee. He moved further left and stopped even though the detector went Wheeeeeeee. He looked behind him, the path was nowhere to be seen. Harry was sure he saw the bluebells and grass weave themselves together before his eyes, closing the path forever. Ahead the light was almost completely blocked by the dense leaves above him, were the leaves weaving themselves together too? Harry looked at his feet, they were invisible under the thick covering of beautiful bluebells.
Harry didn’t want to damage any more flowers and he didn’t want to disobey nannan, but the signal was strong and getting stronger. Harry stood still for a long time as he tried to make up his mind about what to do and whether he could hold his nerve as he walked deeper into the unknown. No one had ever walked on this ground before – there was no path in front of him or behind, suddenly a strange wind made the branches of the trees whip and scratch Harry’s face and legs while trying to knock the hat from his head. If only he’d worn his deer stalker – he could have tied it down, and jeans instead of shorts…
With a gulp Harry inched forwards, sliding his feet under the flowers, WHEEEEEEEE! Harry was excited and frightened at the same time; he had never had such a strong signal before. He had found bottle tops, cans and nails, but they never made such a noise! He felt he had to be very brave and keep going forwards slowly. The warm sunlight could not reach Harry now, he shivered a little as he shuffled forward.
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Harry stopped. He had found the point where he could start digging. He put down the metal detector, remembering to switch it off, and turned the peak of his cap around. He un-hooked his folding shovel and struck his first blow into the ground. There was a muffled clang.
‘Ouch! That hurt!’ said a voice close by.
Harry jumped up and frantically looked around for the person he had heard. There was no one to be seen.
Harry realised that he was panting, his heart was racing as he looked all around the area two hundred times in just a few seconds. He was sure there was no one there… it must have been the wind in the trees that he had heard?
When he was satisfied that there was no one there, Harry took two deep breaths and began digging again. Because the ground had seemed hard when he first started digging, he turned his digger around so that he could use the pickaxe. He lifted the pickaxe high above his head and whacked down as hard as he could.
‘OUCH! I told you that hurts! Stop hitting me, I hate people hitting me – find the soft ground around me and dig gently until you can get me out, please.’
‘Wh, wh, who said that? Who’s there…’
‘Who?’ said the voice, ‘There’s no “who,” there’s a “what” if you are at all interested in the difference?’
‘I, I can’t see you.’ said Harry in a frightened voice ‘Where are you?’
‘You are standing on me you dunderheed. If you are going to help, you’d better get digging. I was fast asleep until you hit me – the least you can do is get me out of here.’
Harry stood still for a minute, looking at his feet and wondering what he was about to dig up. Whatever it was it was certainly grumpy – a bit like daddy, but Harry felt he was responsible for waking ‘it’ up. There were hairy black bugs flying in every direction, most of them seemed to be pinging off Harry’s head – they hurt. A lot!
‘Okay, just a minute’ Harry said, as he waved his arms around his head, ‘I just want to take my utility belt off so that I can dig properly. And, are those big hairy bugs from you?’
‘Hmm, “utility belt” sounds a bit grand, what does it do?’ said the voice. ‘And no, the bugs aren’t from me…’
Harry replied that it held his tools and that if the voice wanted to be dug up it had better let him get on with it. The voice remained silent.
Harry hung his utility belt on a nearby branch and picked up his shovel. He wondered which end of it to use: the spade or the pickaxe? He decided to try and find where to start digging by marking out the edges of whatever the voice belonged to. Harry twizzled the tool around until the pickaxe was pointing toward the ground, he lifted the tool a few centimetres and let it hit the ground, but not too hard.
‘Ouch! Take it easy,’ said the voice ‘I have feelings you know.’
‘I have to find a place to start digging – somewhere where you stop – whatever you are, so stop complaining please, you complain too much for someone who needs rescuing!’ Harry suggested, sternly.
‘Humph!’ said the voice.
Harry tapped the pickaxe into the ground; the tool hit metal – ping, ‘Ouch!’ Ping ping. ‘Ouch, ouch.’ Ping, ping, ping, ping, ping. ‘Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouuuuuch!’
‘Don’t be such a wimp, you do want to be out of here don’t you?’ Harry laughed; he thought the voice was being a little pathetic.
Harry began digging at the point where there was no ‘ping’ and no complaining. In no time at all Harry had dug all the way around the owner of the voice and had scooped the soil from the top of this strange metallic object. He tapped the top of the object with his pickaxe – ‘Ping.’ ‘What are you?’ Harry asked.
‘I would have thought that was obvious!’ the voice said haughtily.
‘Not to me.’ Harry countered. ‘I’ll try to lever you out, though.’
‘Do not hit me with that thing again please. I must have been hit like – a billion times already and it’s no joke; I get so anxious whenever I see a hammer.’ the voice quivered a little ‘Just grab hold of me and pull me up and out of here.’
Harry stood with one foot either side of the object and grabbed each side of it. He started to lift, expecting the object to be stuck in its muddy hole, but to his surprise it lifted out very easily.
‘What a strange thing you are.’ Harry said in a quizzical voice, ‘Are you a polymorph?’
Really, Harry had no idea what a ‘polymorph’ was but had heard Gurky use the word once and quite liked the sound of it.
‘No, I’m an anvil.’ said the voice.
‘An anvil!? Anvils can’t talk!’
‘You are a strange and unworldly boy.’ said the voice wearily, ‘I’m only an anvil because I choose to be, of course I can talk.’
Harry stood for a few seconds thinking of a response. ‘Unworldly?’ he asked, seeming to be happy with ‘strange’ and missing the important part of the anvil’s last words.
‘Yes. And strange!’
‘Strange means different,’ Harry retorted, ‘I’m happy to be different.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that. Are you going to help me or what?’
‘Well,’ Harry was thinking, ‘you are actually very strange too, so – I suppose I should help you. What do you want me to do?’
‘Just wash all this mud off me please! That would be a very good place to start.’
Harry thought this seemed like a reasonable request. ‘We have a hosepipe in the garden, it will rinse off the mud and make you lighter to carry.’ Harry suggested.
‘You will never have to worry about my weight.’ said the voice ‘If you help me, my weight will help you…’
Harry carried his new friend back to nannan’s garden and hosed the mud from the strange form. Harry looked at the shape with renewed interest.
‘So, you are an… anvil?’
‘Yes, aren’t you convinced?’
‘I’d be more convinced if I knew what an anvil was.’ admitted Harry.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the strange anvil ‘no one uses anvils anymore. That’s why I chose to be one. I’d like to think that I could be useful though. I can prevent doors from slamming…’
‘Great! I’ll introduce you to nannan, she hates doors that slam!’
Harry was about to go into the house to get nannan when he heard a noise behind him. He quickly turned to see who or what made the noise – he thought he saw a strange looking man wearing a black hood disappearing into the bushes at the bottom of the garden. He narrowed his eyes to see better and waited to see more movement, but there was none. Harry was sure the temperature suddenly felt a lot cooler.
‘Hmm,’ thought Harry ‘first I’m talking to anvils, then I’m seeing shadowy, black ghosts. I need a cup of hot chocolate.’
Harry did not notice that the anvil was unusually quiet…
Chapter Two
‘Harry! Your muddy trainers are making such a mess!’
‘Sorry nannan, but I wanted to show you this!’ Harry said breathlessly as he held out the strange shape, he knew was an anvil, but had no idea what an anvil was.
‘Put that dirty thing outside. Please!’ ordered nannan.
‘B, b, but…’ stuttered Harry.
‘Outside!’
Harry reluctantly carried the anvil through the back door and laid it down near the garage door. Glancing back at the anvil he walked back through the kitchen door and, seeing nannan, said – ‘He’s my friend.’
‘Harry, an anvil can’t be your friend…’ said nannan in a more comforting voice.
Harry slipped onto a chair by the kitchen table and positioned himself so that he could see the anvil. ‘Nannan, you don’t understand. He can talk!’
Nannan patted Harry softly on his head and then ruffled his hair roughly, but in fun. ‘I’ll get you a hot chocolate,’ she soothed in a way only a nannan can ‘…you feel quite cold.’
oo00oo
Harry sipped his hot chocolate as he looked out of the window towards his new friend. He could hear a voice in his head telling him it was okay; everything would be fine. Harry knew the voice belonged to the anvil.
But Harry wasn’t so sure that everything would be okay. He looked over at nannan who was now peeling carrots and wondered if she understood. Would she ever understand?
‘Nannan, what is an anvil?’ Harry queried.
‘A great big heavy hunk of metal that blacksmiths use to shape red hot metal.’ replied nannan, without taking a breath. ‘If you can easily pick up your ‘friend’- believe me, it’s not an anvil.’
‘What shape is an anvil?’ asked Harry.
Nannan did stop for a breath this time. ‘Well,’ she started ‘…well, alright – the shape of your friend. But MUCH heavier! You don’t have a real anvil, believe me!’
‘Can anvils speak?’ Harry asked knowing what the answer would be.
‘Yes, of course!’ said nannan. Harry looked up in astonishment tinged with a little hope. ‘They speak anvileise!’ she chuckled.
Just for a moment Harry was sad, but he soon felt better when he heard a distant voice say ‘Anvileise? Tsk…ridiculous woman…’.
Harry smiled and finished his hot chocolate. He was quietly smiling because the anvil was brave enough to say nannan was ridiculous… maybe they could be proper friends after all.
Chapter Three
Harry opened the dishwasher and put his chocolaty mug on the rack. The dishwasher was almost empty – Harry was beginning to have an idea.
He moved the few dishes he found there from the bottom rack and placed them carefully and silently on the top rack. He could hear nannan singing along to an obscure song playing loudly on her phone. He checked that she was too busy to notice what he was doing and crept outside to collect the anvil. Once back in the kitchen he placed the anvil on the bottom rack of the dishwasher. There was a worrying creak, but Harry thought everything would be okay. After all, the anvil hardly weighed anything. He put a dishwasher tablet in the tray, pressed the button for the highest temperature and closed the door. The dishwasher clicked into life, Harry could hear the sound of running water, he could also hear the muffled complaints from the anvil… He dragged a chair over to the dishwasher and sat in front of it, trying to imagine what was going on inside.
oo00oo
‘Harry, what are you doing?’
‘Nothing nannan, just sitting in the kitchen.’ replied Harry, honestly. That seemed to do the trick, nannan didn’t question him further. However, Harry didn’t hear nannan sneak up behind him. She whispered in his ear – ‘Harry, what are you doing?’ Harry felt his heart stop ‘Nannan! You gave me a heart attack!’
‘You are never this quiet,’ she said, ‘and NEVER so still!’ Nannan was tapping her foot. Harry knew this meant she wanted an answer.
Harry was about to confess when there was a strange noise from the dishwasher. It sounded like something very scary was eating metal, grinding it with huge terrifying teeth. Harry looked at nannan and gulped.
Grunch! Scrunch! Screench! Scrawnch!
‘Oh dear, I wonder what that was?’ Nannan said, looking worried. There were now no sounds coming from the dishwasher. Nannan opened the door and immediately saw what had happened.
‘Harry, you nincompoop, you can’t put an anvil in the dishwasher! It’s bent the rack! Humph! Another job for Gurky, he’ll straighten it out, I hope… Please remove your anvil and put it back outside. NOW!’
Harry said sorry to nannan and gently untangled the anvil from the twisted wire, all the time looking out for something hiding in a corner and possessing huge terrifying teeth.
The anvil looked very clean and bright, Harry was pleased but was very sorry about the damage; although, he couldn’t see how something that weighed about the same as a dinner plate could cause so much damage. With a sad heart, Harry took the anvil outside.
‘Wow!’ said the anvil, ‘Actually, that was sooo good. It’s a long time since I had a hot bath. Can we do that again one day?’
‘I wouldn’t think so.’ said Harry, ‘I think I’ve caused enough trouble with dishwashers and anvils.’
Harry put the anvil behind the garage and covered it with an old wet sack.
Chapter Four
Harry did not visit behind the garage for two whole days. On the third day he kicked off the wet sack and sat on a step looking at the anvil.
‘You’ve taken your time.’ the anvil said.
‘Nannan never gets angry, but I could tell she wasn’t happy and it’s your fault.’ Harry stated with some conviction.
‘How can that be?’ asked the anvil ‘I’m just an anvil!’
‘No, you’re not – you can talk! If you had said something, anything! Nannan would have understood why I think you’re special.’
‘It doesn’t work like that, Harry – only you can hear me. And thank you for thinking I’m special.’
‘How do you know my name?’ Harry asked suspiciously.
‘Your nannan used it about a hundred times – I’m not stupid.’
‘Hmm. Do you have a name?’
The anvil replied cautiously – ‘Yes, of course…’
‘Well, what is it?’ Harry was becoming impatient.
‘Calm down; I’d rather not say.’
‘Why?’ Harry was now very impatient, ‘Is it something silly like Alvin?’
‘How do you know my name!!?’
‘I didn’t, it was a guess!’ Harry was laughing loudly ‘Alvin, Alvin, ALVIN’ he taunted.
‘Well, it’s not Alvin – ha-ha, I lied, it’s David.’
‘David!’ exclaimed Harry ‘That’s not an anvil’s name – its Alvin, I know it! Ha ha haaahha! Anyway, I like Alvin so even if it is David. I’m calling you Alvin and that’s that!’
‘Humph. You can if you want. So, what are we going to do today?’ Alvin asked.
‘There’s not much you can do with an anvil.’ Harry offered, ‘You could tell me how I could become a blacksmith. Nannan said you must have belonged to a blacksmith.’
‘I don’t belong to anyone, not even you young Harry. And I’m especially trying to avoid belonging to Mister Hood. I don’t think you want to be a blacksmith, for one thing you would have to hit me a million times – I’m fed up with being hit, it makes me very anxious to even think of it.’ he whimpered.
‘Okay, if you don’t want to play blacksmiths, what do you want to do?’ Harry asked with some disappointment – he actually liked banging and generally making as much noise as possible.
‘I want to do something that is nothing to do with being an anvil. I’m happy to be an anvil if I’m not hit, but it would be nice to be something different for a change. I can do this if you help me.’
‘Sure,’ said Harry ‘I don’t mind helping, what do you want me to do? And who’s Mister Hood?’
‘Let’s play at me being a balloon!’ Alvin said in the friendliest voice he had used so far – in a successful attempt to avoid the Mister Hood question.
‘A balloon!?’ Harry spluttered, ‘You’re an anvil! You’ll never even get off the ground!’
‘Yes, I will – and you said you would help!’
‘Well, I know I can pick you up – that’s a miracle if I understand what an anvil really should weigh. But I can’t make you lighter than air so that you float like a balloon!’
‘I think you can.’ reassured Alvin, ‘Let’s see. Can you find a piece of string?’
‘I have lots of string, what colour do you want and how long?’
Alvin gave this some thought – was colour important? ‘Green. No, blue. No, no – red. Red string please. About one metre long should be enough.’
‘No one has red string, you will have to make do with green. I have miles and miles of green string.’ Harry knew Alvin was playing games about the colour, ‘Is that okay?’
‘Sure.’ said Alvin calmly, ‘I can’t see colours anyway, anvils are colour-blind…’
Harry ran super-fast to his bedroom after wildly kicking his shoes off in the kitchen. He found his box of string, selected a ball of bright green nylon string, and ran back to the kitchen. He found nannan’s scissors at the back of the cutlery drawer, measured the string across two kitchen cupboard doors and cut exactly one metre from the ball.
He was just about to run to Alvin when he realised he had no shoes on his feet. He saw one under the table but couldn’t see the other. He looked around but it was nowhere to be seen. He began looking in less obvious places – the cutlery drawer, the waste-bin, even on top of the towel rail, but it had disappeared. ‘Oh well,’ thought Harry, ‘I’ll get a different pair.’
He found his LED trainers with the flashing lights, but the batteries were exhausted, and they were now too small – he didn’t mind, he just needed shoes so he squeezed his feet into them and ran outside holding out the string for Alvin to see.
‘Don’t just dangle it in front of me, tie it onto me somehow. I want to get into the air!’ Alvin complained.
‘I still don’t know how this is going to work.’ Harry said in his best perplexed voice.
‘You will see once you have tied the string onto me, all you have to do is keep hold of the string and think about me being a balloon.’
Harry did as he was told; Gurky had shown him how to tie a reef knot, so he used it to tie the string around Alvin’s waist and held the free-end tightly in his right hand. He thought about Alvin being a balloon, but nothing happened. ‘See,’ said Harry, ‘it’s ridiculous, you will never float like a balloon, it’s impossible.’
‘Yes I will, try again – you can do it. Do it for me, I want to fly so much…’
Harry held the string tightly, closed his eyes and imagined Alvin was a fluffy white cloud. He made sure his eyes were tightly closed so that he could concentrate really hard. He could hear scraping noises and a light knocking sound but he dared not open his eyes to see if anything was happening. He waited and waited, minutes passed but he couldn’t bring himself to look, and the string felt just the same.
‘Are you going to sit there all day?’ said Alvin, calmly, ‘Or are you going to take me for a walk?’
Harry opened his spesh eye, ‘Wow. WOW! You are flying!!’ Harry screamed. He was so surprised he let go of the string to place a hand either side of his head. A normal balloon would have floated off into the sky never to be seen again, but, if he was a balloon at all, Alvin was no normal balloon. He dropped from the air – like an anvil would – and crashed into a pile of empty plant pots. ‘Oops, sorry.’ Alvin said with a cheeky chortle.
Harry grabbed the string again and watched in fascination and awe as Alvin gently floated into the air. Both Alvin and Harry were giddy with excitement. Harry tugged the string to the left then the right and Alvin laughed like a carefree young child as he bobbed backwards and forwards in the sunshine. Harry was just thinking of other aerobatic tricks he could try when he heard his name shouted very loudly.
‘Harry! Can you explain why your shoe is boiling with the potatoes?’
oo00oo
It was some time before Harry was allowed out of his bedroom. He promised to take his shoes off more carefully in future, and he promised to eat the potatoes at dinner without complaining and … without telling Gurky…
Secretly, while Harry was doing ‘time’ in his bedroom, nannan prepared more potatoes so no one was going to be ill.
When Gurky arrived home from work, nannan told him what had happened, they both thought it was so very funny and laughed and laughed until their sides hurt.
Once dinner was over Harry asked if he could go back into the garden. ‘Fifteen minutes,’ Gurky said, ‘we have to do some Periodic Table work before you go to bed. Harry loved to hear about elements and what they could do. He wanted to know what anvils were made from and if the material had magical properties…
Harry picked Alvin out of the broken plant pots and remembered he must own up about the accident, he would have to say he broke them with his football, no one would believe an anvil fell out of the sky onto them.
‘What shall we do tomorrow?’ Alvin asked.
‘I’m not sure.’ said Harry, ‘I’m already in trouble, and there are the plant pots to own-up about, I’ll have to clear them up and maybe buy some more.’
‘Well, when you’ve done that we can go for a walk! Floating is new to me, I’m so excited!’
‘We’ll have to wait and see, but I’d like to take you to see Mrs Popple. She will be very interested to see an anvil that can float like a balloon!’
Chapter Five
Harry ran down the road towards the village and Mrs Popple’s shop – holding onto the string. Alvin was jabbering away excitedly – describing everything he could see from his position one metre above Harry’s head. The sun was shining brightly, and Harry was happy – although one of his trainers seemed a little tight and was definitely cleaner than the other.
Mrs Popple sells everything that you could ever want, including lobsters, torque wrenches, coat hooks and sausages. She also sells fresh fruit – this is what Harry was going to buy today.
Harry skittered into Mrs Popple’s shop with Alvin bobbing along behind him. As Harry slowed down and walked towards the fruit, Alvin clattered into Mrs Popple’s display of metal buckets and watering cans hanging from the ceiling. Krang! Clang! Bong! Boom! Croooiiing. Ping.
‘Goodness gracious!’ Mrs Popple cried ‘What’s that noise!?’
‘Sorry, Mrs Popple.’ Harry said, ‘It was just Alvin accidentally knocking into your buckets!’
‘It sounded like war breaking out! How can a balloon make all that noise!?’
‘Alvin isn’t a balloon Mrs Popple, he’s an anvil!’
‘I can see it’s an anvil but it’s also a balloon, you should have a shorter piece of string if you intend floating it near my buckets.’ Mrs Popple suggested, helpfully.
‘Watch this Mrs Popps, I’ll show you what Alvin can do.’ Harry moved into a clear area – this was very difficult to find in Mrs Popple’s shop. He tried to imagine where Alvin would land when Harry let go of the string.
‘What are you going to do?’ Mrs Popple was worried.
‘I’m just going to let go of the string.’ Harry explained, ‘He will hit the floor around here.’ Harry pointed to the spot with his cleanest trainer.
‘You are a crazy boy, Harry!’ Mrs Popple laughed, ‘Balloons go up not down, it will hit the ceiling right above where you are pointing.’
Harry was smiling. ‘Sorry Mrs Popple, you’re wrong, he will definitely hit the floor very hard!’
‘Well, now I am worried – if it is a real anvil, it will go straight through the floor into the cellar!’ Mrs Popple tried not to laugh. ‘So… go on then, let it go.’
Harry stopped for a second, he hadn’t thought about damaging the floor – never mind Alvin going straight through it into the cellar. ‘We need to go outside, Mrs Popps; come on. I promise I’ll buy an apple when I’ve shown you my secret.’
Harry ran towards the front of the shop with Alvin in tow. Clang. Boing. Traang. Krong. Ding. ‘Sorry Mrs Popple!’ Harry shouted over his shoulder ‘Come on.’
Harry ran out of the door, remembering to tug down on the string so that Alvin didn’t smash the window above it. He skidded to a halt at the kerb, looked both ways then quickly strode across the road to the green. There was a grumpy looking man, wearing a wooly hat, sitting on the bench facing Mrs Popple’s shop. Harry looked at him, but the man was looking up at Alvin as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Harry ran some distance behind the bench and stood still, panting just a little. Mrs Popple arrived at her shop door and looked suspiciously at the man on the bench.
‘Come on Mrs Popps, come over here.’ Harry shouted, ‘l want to show you something…’ Harry was miming that he didn’t want the man on the bench to see what he was going to do.
Mrs Popple knew who the man was, he was Mr Bobble-Hatt, a local criminal; she was worried about leaving her shop unattended with him being so close.
Mr Bobble-Hatt had turned around to look at Harry when he heard Harry shout to Mrs Popple, but when there was nothing new and interesting to see, he turned back. It was just a noisy boy with a balloon, he had better things on his mind.
Mrs Popple walked past Mr Bobble-Hatt without looking at him, but once she had passed him, she turned every few paces to make sure he had not moved as she approached Harry. ‘Okay Harry, hurry up please. I hope you can run fast enough to catch your balloon once you have let go!’
Harry let go of the string and Alvin fell to the ground like a rock. Mrs Popple gasped: ‘Oh my word!’ she exclaimed, ‘How did you do that!?’
‘I don’t know. It was Alvin, not me. If I hold the string he floats – look…’ Harry picked up the string and Alvin rose into the air, he then let the string go and Alvin fell to the ground – with a very loud thud – there were now two deep dents in the grass.
‘Must you!?’ groaned Alvin.
‘Well, I really don’t know what to make of this, Harry. This is extraordinary.’ gasped an astonished Mrs Popple. She held onto the string just above Harry’s hand, Alvin shivered in the air.
‘Mind your toes Mrs Popps.’ Harry warned, ‘I’m going to let go of the string.’ Harry moved his hand away from the string and down went Alvin without a millisecond’s delay. Mrs Popple was still holding the string but bent down and expected to pick Alvin up. To her further amazement, Alvin wouldn’t move a millimetre. Harry was laughing and leaping into the air, ‘Isn’t he fantastic!’ Harry yelled.
Harry picked up the string and Mrs Popple stood aghast, her mouth open, her head shaking slowly from side to side. ‘How did you find him, Harry?’ Mrs Popple asked.
‘With my metal detector,’ he replied, ‘in the woods. He’s my pet anvil.’
Mrs Popple looked at Harry with her ‘crazy boy’ look. ‘How did you know he could float in the air?’ she asked.
‘He told me!’ Harry replied.
‘You’re saying he can speak!?’
‘Of course, but only to me.’ Harry said, with just a little pride.
Mrs Popple thought for a minute, ‘Are you a magician, Harry?’
‘No Mrs Popple, just a very lucky boy, I guess.’
Mrs Popple turned towards her shop. ‘I need a cup of tea, you will have to make it, Harry. I’m shaking too much.’
As they walked towards the shop Mrs Popple noticed that Mr Bobble-Hatt was no longer sitting on the bench…
Chapter Six
Mrs Popple sat in the chair behind her till and waited for Harry to return with the tea. Harry always had a cup of tea too, rather than pop. Mrs Popple always offered him a biscuit if he didn’t have pop. She was trying to make sense of what she had seen when her eyes fell on an empty space that shouldn’t have been empty.
‘Oh no!’ Mrs Popple exclaimed, ‘It’s gone!’
‘What has?’ Harry shouted from the small kitchen in the back of the shop.
‘It’s gone! The wok I got in especially for your nannan!’
Harry’s heart sank. He was eight years old and had not been in trouble for anything worse than burping at the dining table until Alvin came along, and now he was sure someone had stolen nannan’s wok while Mrs Popple was out of the shop watching Alvin’s tricks. It was Harry’s fault again. He was going to be in big trouble this time.
[1]
Harry knew better than to suggest Mrs Popple had mislaid the wok.
‘Perhaps nannan came to collect it?’ Harry offered as a reasonable explanation.
‘No. Definitely not. She would have seen us on the green and would have waited or come over to us… anyway, I know who stole it…’ Mrs Popple said with a long sigh.
‘Who, Mrs Popps! Who?’ Harry asked excitedly, whilst trying not to spill the tea.
‘Where’s my phone? I need to call PC Capp.’ Harry sank deep into his chair and began to think of a new way of smiling for when he got home. His normal smile seemed to have disappeared – along with the wok.
PC Capp must have been very close by because he arrived as if he was in a time machine. Harry didn’t even have time to finish his biscuit. PC Capp nodded a greeting in Mrs Popple’s direction then said, ‘Hello Harry, anything new etcetera?’
Harry froze. ‘No.’ He replied, nervously.
‘Nothing?’ asked PC Capp, ‘Not a single new thing in a seven-year old’s life?’
‘Eight.’ Harry corrected. ‘No, nothing. All pretty boring really.’ Alvin blended well into the general look of the shop, so he remained unnoticed.
PC Capp looked at Mrs Popple and shrugged. ‘How about you, Mrs Popple, what’s the problem, etcetera?’
Mrs Popple took a deep breath. ‘Something is missing, and I think I know who took it.’ she said with another sigh.
PC Capp looked at Harry. ‘It’s not me!’ Harry protested.
‘Certainly not!’ agreed Mrs Popple ‘Harry was with me.’
Harry frowned, to think he could ever have been a suspect was ridiculous, he had no idea what a wok even was!
Mrs Popple explained her theory about the wok, PC Capp nodded as he wrote notes in his little black notebook, occasionally licking his pencil and tutting his disapproval. ‘Has anything else been taken, etcetera?’
‘Yes,’ Mrs Popple sighed yet again, ‘a pair of pliers with blue handles and a metronome.’
‘Hmm, a curious collection. Leave this with me, Mrs P, I’ll track down the suspect and question him about your missing pan, etcetera…’
Mrs Popple interrupted – ‘Wok, PC Capp, a pan is entirely different.’
‘Very well, I will say goodbye and will proceed with my enquires, etcetera.’ With that, PC Capp left the shop and disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. Harry poked his head out of the door but could see no sign of PC Capp.
This town is very strange, thought Harry. ‘Mrs Popple, why do you think Mr Bobble-Hatt stole the wok? And, what is a wok?’
‘I don’t have any actual evidence,’ Mrs Popple agreed ‘but it is obvious who stole the wok, under the circumstances.’
Harry thought it was unfair to accuse someone without evidence, but as he came very near to being a suspect, he decided it was best to allow the finger of blame to point away from himself.
Chapter Seven
Sheri Chapeau answered the door to find Harry holding a balloon in the shape of an anvil.
‘Wai not a set of spanners, or a carrot?’ she asked without asking him in.
‘What?’
‘Who has an anvil on a piece of string?’ Sheri asked, not expecting an answer.
‘Me!’ Harry protested ‘He’s my friend. No, not friend – my pet. He’s my pet anvil – he’s real!’
‘You’ve been in the sun too long.’ Sheri advised, ‘You’ve become delinquent.’
‘I don’t think you mean ‘delinquent’, Sheri, maybe delirious? Although I really don’t think I am either.’
Harry told Sheri the entire story and offered to demonstrate Alvin’s powers. Sheri listened but declined Harry’s offer to hold onto the string. She touched it with one fingertip – Alvin shivered and dipped alarmingly, Sheri was convinced.
‘Okay, so you hayve a pet anvil that can float in the ayah. How does that help us catch a criminal?’ asked Sheri.
‘I didn’t know we were looking for a criminal.’ said Harry ‘I thought that was PC Capp’s job.’
‘It is,’ Sheri agreed, ‘but it sure would be fun to find him ourselves. We can be a secret so-ciedy, we could be called ASH. That’s all ah initials – Alvin, that’s Alvin, Sheri, that’s me and Harreh, that’s you. Then we can get the criminals and will be a famous secret so-ciedy.’
‘But not so secret anymore.’ Harry pointed out. ‘Anyway, we don’t know what the criminal looks like, all we can be sure of is that he wears a woolly hat with a pompom and his name could be Mr Bobble-Hatt.’ Harry complained.
‘That sounds like a whole lot of clues to meh.’ Sheri suggested, ‘All we have to do is find him and catch him cooking his dinner in a wok.’
‘What is a wok!’ asked Harry in exasperation.
‘It’s a kind of payn.’ Sheri explained.
‘It isn’t!’ Harry objected, ‘Mrs Popple definitely said it wasn’t a pan.’
‘Well, you cook things in it on the stove, so it kind of is.’
Harry was confused.
Sheri thought she’d better change the subject a little, ‘Let’s go for a walk around the village and keep ah eyes open for the thief – you never know, he may be hanging around somewayah.’
Harry agreed, so he and Sheri set off down High Street into the village with, of course, Alvin bobbing along above them and keeping Harry informed about people who were sitting in their gardens and eating ice cream and playing games. Sheri was pleased she couldn’t hear him. Harry just wanted to find the wok and the pliers and maybe even the metronome.
It was late afternoon when the pair noticed the sign for the village hall’s car boot sale. It was to take place on the morning of the very next day – Sunday. It occurred to them that they could go along and find a replacement wok for nannan. This seemed such a good idea that they called in to see Tom Bowler who was in charge of ticket sales to ask if he knew whether there was a wok for sale.
‘What’s a wok?’ he asked.
‘Never mind…’ Harry and Sheri said in unison.
They both now felt they had had enough excitement for one day and headed home whilst discussing plans to visit the car boot sale early in the morning – so that they could be sure to find a wok if there was one. Harry said goodbye to Sheri at her gate and reminded her to be ready at seven a.m.
Chapter Eight
Harry tapped on Sheri’s house door. He looked at his watch – 07:02a.m. Near enough, he thought.
He turned around and walked over to the wall opposite Sheri’s house and wriggled onto its flat top. He sat for a few minutes just swinging his legs. It was going to be another sunny day, but it was a bit chilly at the moment, Harry was pleased he was wearing his deer stalker hat. The cold of the night was stored within the stone and was soaking gradually through Harry’s thin shorts, but he would never consider sitting on a hat. He did, however, drop the flaps down over his ears.
Harry took out his compass and assessed the directions to his left and right. They were north and south again, just as they had been on the countless times he had perched on the wall waiting for his American friend. Sheri was pretty awesome as a friend but was rubbish at timing. Harry knew it would be seven thirty before she emerged.
As usual, he had taken account of her tardiness and was prepared to sit and wait knowing they did not have to leave until 07:30. He called this woman management.
Nannan said he was chauvinist. Gurky said he was chivalrous. Harry said most of the time he was shivering.
Sheri opened the door and waved. ‘One minute.’ she whispered in the kind of whisper that was just as loud as a normal voice and held up one finger. This was usual and more often than not gave Harry another five minutes of leg swinging. He noticed that her hair was black today – for the time being, this was probably about to change.
Sheri finally emerged six minutes later and had pink hair. Harry had counted ten or twelve different wigs over the six months he had known Sheri but had never commented other than to pass a compliment. He had no idea whether he had ever seen her real hair. Harry had six hats and intended to buy more, so was generally understanding about headgear.
Harry dropped down from his seat and rubbed his numb bum with both hands.
‘Ah do declayer,’ Sheri began, ‘you do look as though you didn’t bother going to beyad last naht.’
‘Thanks Sheri, you look great too.’ Harry replied with an acid edge that was just for effect, after all – he loved Sheri like a sister. ‘Especially your hair, a good choice for today – you will blend in perfectly.’
‘Always the gen’eman, Harry, merci. Shall we sashay.’ It wasn’t a question. Harry rolled his eyes and offered his arm. This also was quite normal.
Harry walked and Sheri practiced her sashay in the direction the car boot sale sale. As they progressed, they discussed what a car boot sale was.
‘Surely it’s loads of people sellin’ car trunks?’ Sheri suggested.
‘Almost,’ agreed Harry ‘there could be elephant’s foot umbrella stands, that’s sort of related to a trunk, and it could be sold from the boot of a car. But it’s not selling the boot of a car from the boot of a car. Maybe we should wait until you have had your first ‘car boot sale’ experience.’
‘If it’s anythin’ like a yard sale, I know what to expect – lemonade! I caint wait!’
As they arrived at the site a car whizzed by throwing clouds of dust into their faces. Harry and Sheri spluttered and waved their arms to move the dust away.
‘Who was that? All I could see was a hat with a pompom.’ Harry claimed.
‘I saw a guy in a hood…who weyas hoods?’ Sheri added, ‘Who were those guys, they don’t seem to cayah about pedestrians.’
‘I don’t want to point out the obvious, but aren’t we looking for someone wearing a bobble hat? If he’s a bad driver too it just makes me think we’re onto something – he doesn’t care about anything. I wish I’d brought Alvin along.’
‘Waih, what could he do?’ Sheri asked, ‘He cain’t chase after badly driven automobiles.’
‘I don’t know.’ Harry admitted, ‘I just wish he was here.’
‘We’d get more use out of emotion potions.’ Sheri offered, ‘We could shake a potion out in his face, that would make him confess.’
‘Which potion would you use? I don’t think we have a “c’mon, confess, dude” potion …’ suggested Harry.
‘Ah would use the “calm” potion.’ Sheri offered, ‘That’s kind of tranquillising so he will be doped enough to answer questions and blurt out the truth without thinking.’
‘Hmm, actually – that could work, did you bring it with you?’
‘No, who carries calm potion around with them!?’
‘Perhaps we should go home and do this next week?’ said Harry.
The question hung in the air as the pair continued on their journey. As they approached the gate of the car boot sale, they became aware of the fact that they may actually be late. There were what seemed like hundreds of people setting up stalls around their cars, who’s boot or hatchback was open and full of items they hoped to sell.
‘Wow! There must be a wok here somewhere.’ Harry supposed, ‘There’s so much stuff!’
Harry and Sheri walked around the site and kept their eyes open for interesting clues – and a wok. Harry had a surprise when he spotted an anvil for sale. He asked how much it cost but the man said he would only sell it to someone who could carry it. Harry attempted to lift it but, as it wasn’t Alvin – he couldn’t.
They continued their aimless stroll. Often, Harry would point at an object and start talking about it only to find that Sheri was several cars behind, looking at something frilly and possibly even pink. Harry wished he had the courage to hold her hand, at least they would then be together and able to talk about the same objects.
He then found a strange looking bowl with a long wooden handle. The bowl contained what looked like a circular bar of soap, but made from metal.
‘Excuse me, what does this do?’ Harry asked the woman who was leaning against the rear of the car.
‘What does what “do”?’ she returned in a strange, breathy voice.
‘This bowl and the whatchmecallit thing in the bottom.’ Harry offered.
‘Oh, it’s a wok with a magnet in it, they aren’t together – they cost, erm… ten pounds for the wok and one pound for the magnet.’
‘One pound!’ said an indignant voice, ‘I’m worth more than that!’
Harry was looking at the breathy woman, but he didn’t see her lips move. ‘Here we go again…’ he thought. ‘More mental metal!’
‘Who said that?’ he asked in his head.
‘It’s me,’ said the voice, ‘buy the wok and I’ll tell you all about me.’
Harry should have been stunned by the sound of a new metallic voice, but he had now begun accepting these strange experiences as something like normal.
‘I don’t have ten pounds,’ Harry said quietly, ‘I only have five, but I do need a wok to give to nannan. Hers was stolen.’
‘You’re in charge, you have to do this on your own, I can’t help you.’ said the new voice.
Harry felt he should be ignoring this voice, but as he now had the experience of owning an anvil that could float like a balloon, who else has on of those!? He decided to trust his new instincts, at least where talking metal was involved.
‘Erm, excuse me.’ Harry said in his most polite voice, ‘Can I buy the wok for five pounds please?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure that will be allowed, after all, bartering is for grown-ups.’ said the woman, ‘And Mr Bobble-Hatt wants more than five pounds.’
‘Bobble-Hatt!’ thought Harry, ‘I know that name. Maybe this is nannan’s wok?’
‘Look,’ said the breathy woman, ‘it’s new, not a scratch on it.’ The woman attempted to lift the wok, but the magnet seemed to add so much weight that she found it quite impossible. She tried to lift the magnet from the wok but found that impossible too.
‘Okay,’ said Harry, ‘we’ll have to take them together. But I’ll need a discount, we can’t use a wok with a magnet in it very easily.’ Harry had no idea what he was saying and wished Sheri was there to help.
‘Well, I can give you a small discount for taking both extremely valuable items… let’s say ten pounds for both?’
Harry was feeling out of his depth.
‘Just one cotton-picking-minute!’ said the familiar voice of Sheri who had arrived unseen. ‘If you cain’t take ahway the magnet, and neither can Ih,’ Sheri tried her best to pick the magnet up at that point, ‘maybe you should sell this here assembleh for one pound to anehone who cain? This is an immovable object and you ain’t going to sell it nohow.’
The woman thought hard for a moment. Harry thought hard too, what was Sheri going to suggest?
‘Harreh, pick up the magnet.’
Harry had no idea what had got into Sheri, but he carefully slipped his hand around the magnet and prepared to pull hard. To his amazement, the magnet became free with almost no effort.
‘Hi, I’m Maggie,’ said the magnet, ‘pleased to meet you.’
Harry began to laugh. He looked at Sheri, then at the car-boot-sale woman – who was looking very faint and realised they could not hear Maggie but were astonished that Harry had picked up the magnet.
‘Ah think we hayve a winnah here.’ said Sheri.
The woman did not expect to see what she had just witnessed and was just about to back-track when a large dark shape eclipsed the light.
‘That’s okay, Mrs Bobble-Hatt.’ said a new and menacing voice. ‘We can’t have young people being disappointed, now can we…’ The voice belonged to a sinister looking man with long black hair.
‘Mr Hoodd! I didn’t see you there.’ Mrs Bobble-Hatt quivered, ‘Well, okay – if you think it’s alright.’
‘It is, Mrs Bobble-Hatt. I’m very interested to know how you did that trick, young man?’
‘I don’t kn…’ started Harry.
Sheri jumped in ‘He hays special powers and he’s gonna make sure you go to jail!’
‘Ha ha ha ha! That’s very interesting, young lady, and why am I going to jail?’
Sheri was just about to launch into a long explanation, but Harry stopped her by asking for the wok.
‘I have to take it to nannan, she will be so pleased.’
‘Take it, but I still want to know how you did the trick.’
Harry picked up the wok, dropped Maggie into it with a clang and handed it to Sheri who was surprised that she could bear the weight. Harry was about to put his hand in his pocket to find a one-pound coin when he felt an arm around his shoulders. He tried to break free, but the arm gripped harder. Harry looked up to see that Mr Bobble-Hatt, who he had seen outside Mrs Popple’s shop and was the owner of the arm. Sheri let out an ear-splitting scream that did not help at all.
‘Run, Sheri, run!’ Harry shouted as he struggled ‘Get Alvin, quick!!’
Chapter Nine
Sheri had run as fast as she could, she had felt her best pink wig loosening enough to fall off her head, but she had needed both hands to hold the wok, so her hair had to look after itself.
Once she had arrived at Harry’s nannan’s house, she dashed to the potting shed where Alvin sat silently waiting for Harry to return.
‘What am Ih supposed to do now?’ She exclaimed as she plonked the wok down on top of Alvin with a loud clang.
‘Do you mind! I was sleeping. I was having such a good dream too, all about being as light as a feather and never being hit ever again… then you came along and hit me to wake me up!’
Sheri could not believe her ears. ‘But, but, but – I can hear you…’
‘Hello, Alvin.’ said another strange metallic voice.
‘Maggie! Is it really you? How long has it been since we last met? I thought I’d never see you again. You look different…’
‘But, but, but – I can hear both of you. Ah feel faint…’
‘Poor girl,’ said Maggie, ‘she’s having a tough day. No time to talk now, Alvin, we have work to do; Harry needs your help. He’s surrounded by a bunch of crooks who want to know about his powers. We have to go and help.’
Alvin was just about to suggest a plan when Sheri started to speak.
‘Ah don’t know what’s happenin’ here but if I cain hear you, maybe ah cain pick you up too?’
‘Worth a try.’ said Alvin encouragingly.
Sheri easily picked up the wok containing Maggie and set it carefully on the floor. Suddenly, she felt strange – as though everything had changed, but she couldn’t understand why. ‘Oh, shoot, here goes.’ Sheri put her arms around Alvin and heaved. Alvin was stuck to the ground. She heaved again but there wasn’t any movement at all.
‘It ain’t workin’, Alvin. What shall ah do?’ The potting shed was eerily quiet. ‘Alvin, caint you heya me?’
Sheri started to sob, what would Harry do? How could she save him? She put her hand into her handbag (she called it a purse…) and fumbled for her mobile phone (she called it a cell…) and began to dial the number for the local police station.
‘Ah shoulda done this right away.’ She scalded herself.
Sheri began pacing backwards and forwards as she waited for PC Capp to answer. As she walked, she kicked the wok by accident, the wok tipped over, Maggie rolled out and came to rest with a dull metallic thud against Alvin.
‘Why did you take Maggie away? Alvin asked instantly and incredulously, ‘Don’t you see, Maggie attached to me makes you able to hear us!’
Sheri stood still with her mouth open.
‘Hello, PC Capp here. How may I assist, etcetera?’
‘PC Capp, it’s me!’ Sheri blurted.
‘Ah, Miss Sheri, what’s wrong, etcetera?’
Sheri took a couple of seconds to re-engage her brain then blurted ‘PC Capp, you’ve gotta heyalp Harreh! He’s bein’ held against his will at the cah boot sale? A man with a hood and two people with bobble hats are trying to make him… well, ah caint say what they want, realleh…’
‘Hmm, I think I know who these people are. They will be up to no good, etcetera. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry, Miss Sheri, etcetera.’ And with that PC Capp ended the call.
‘Pick me up, Sheri, and let’s get out of here and save Harry!’ shouted Alvin.
‘But ah caint,’ said Sheri through watery eyes, ‘you are too heaveh!’
‘Try again.’ said Alvin softly, ‘With Maggie attached to me you can do anything.’
Sheri rubbed her eyes dry and bent down to give her best heave. She was about to strain every muscle, but she instantly noticed a small movement as she grasped Alvin. She let go and stood up straight. Taking her right foot, she gently pressed against Alvin’s side and to her astonishment Alvin moved.
‘Stop kicking me and pick me up!’ Alvin shouted, ‘We don’t have a moment to loose!’
Instantly, Sheri knew what she had to do, she grabbed Alvin without a second thought and ran down to the car boot sale as fast as she could.
When she arrived Harry was right where she left him, he was surrounded by the three crooks who were still attempting to bribe him with ice cream while asking him to explain how he moved Maggie when no one else could.
‘Like this!’ Sheri shouted as loudly as she could, ‘Jump Harreh! Alvin – bowling ball!’
As Sheri shouted, she threw Alvin,with Maggie attached to him, towards the crooks and Alvin began to change shape. His corners began to disappear and in a sparky blur he became very round and very fast.
The crooks seemed to turn in slow motion to see what all the noise was about only to see a huge metal ball heading towards them. Harry jumped into the air as Alvin bowled into the crooks knocking them over. Harry ran to Cheri and gave her a big hug. He turned to see the results of Alvin’s strike. Seeing the crooks on the ground shouted ‘Alvin, net!’
Alvin immediately changed his shape again to become a heavy metal net that held all three crooks firmly to the ground. No matter how much they struggled, they were going nowhere.
At that point a police car entered the car park in a very slow and stately fashion. PC Capp got out of the car, brushed the wrinkles from his uniform, placed his cap on his head, checked in the car’s door mirror that it was on straight, and only then strode purposefully to the scene where Harry and Sheri waited patiently.
‘Hmm. It seems you don’t need me young Harry. You’ve netted quite a haul here, etcetera.’
‘It was mostly Sheri.’ said Harry gallantly, ‘All I had to do was jump.’
‘Hmm,’ said PC Capp, ‘that is usually the way with young ladies, etcetera. It’s best to jump when they tell you to.’
PC Capp’s eyes didn’t seem to be looking at anything, so Harry thought it was a good time to say ‘Okay Alvin, make a tunnel please.’
Harry was getting the hang of what Alvin could do, he didn’t know what would happen but trusted Alvin to do his best. Alvin transformed himself from a low net to an igloo shape with a tunnel that exited at the feet of PC Capp.
The group of crooks could now stand, although very wearily, and queued to leave their prison only to be taken to another one. ‘Come on you lot, I’ve got questions for you about all the items in your car boot, etcetera. Especially the pliers with blue handles and a certain cooking pan called a wok.’
Harry thought he’d better make sure the list was complete, ‘Don’t forget the metronome!’
‘What’s a metronome?’ asked PC Capp.
‘Never mind…’ Harry and Sheri immediately exclaimed together.
Harry looked at Sheri and said ‘Our secret society needs a new name. We can’t be ASH anymore; we need to include Maggie! Let’s go back to the potting shed and see what we can do.’
Harry picked up Alvin with Maggie firmly attached, and they set off for home with the warm sun lifting their spirits. They thought maybe the discovery of Alvin and now Maggie would make their future more enjoyable than they could ever have imagined.
‘Sheri,’ began Harry, ‘how did you know Alvin could change his shape?’
‘They told me.’ Sheri confided, ‘In my head. It just sort of happened…’
‘Oh, well maybe you can show me how you did it later. I don’t think we can guess why weird things happen around Alvin, we’re going to have to learn.’
They didn’t know yet that there was danger just around the corner and sinister experiences that could make them sleep with one eye open for the rest of their lives.
Alvin and Maggie were left alone in the potting shed. Harry and Sheri were safely, for now, in bed.
Alvin broke the silence, ‘We can’t keep the truth from them, I’m going to have to tell them. They are in too deep now, even if we wipe their memory, Mr Hood and his new gang will still want them. They will still be in danger; we have no option – we need their help, and they need ours.’
‘Unfortunately, you are right,’ agreed Maggie with a sigh, ‘we will never return home without their help even though we are now reunited. But, we can keep them safe.’
Alvin’s voice was very feint, all he could manage to say was: ‘Maybe.’
To be continued…
Copyright: Harrison H Taylor and Hector H Taylor 2021
Hogwash Stories + 