Alfie the Werewolf 6: Werewolf Secrets Read online

  Alfie and Noura sniggered.

  After a while they came out at the river. The sun was shining on the water, which was glittering like silver and splashing merrily against the banks.

  ‘What are we going to do today?’ Noura asked. Alfie took off his glasses and wiped the lenses.

  ‘Shall we go and have another look at that house on the hill? There’s something mysterious going on there. If you ask me it’s got something to do with those other werewolves.’

  ‘Yeah, and there’s that Secret Room with mysterious family trees on the wall,’ said Noura.

  ‘Good idea,’ Tim said. ‘I’ll come with you. I love mysteries.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ Noura said, running off towards the hill. Tim and Alfie raced along behind her, but suddenly Noura stopped.

  There was a big white tent on the bank of the river. ‘Hey, look over there. Who do you think that is?’

  As they moved closer they saw signs.

  ‘What’s all that about?’ Tim asked.

  Alfie shrugged. ‘There wasn’t any tent here last night.’

  Cautiously they circled the tent. Someone on the inside cast a moving shadow on the material. Signs at the back and sides of the tent said GO AWAY!

  ‘Strange,’ Noura whispered. ‘Wasn’t this where the weeping rock was? Where’s it gone? And who set up the tent?’

  Suddenly they heard clanging, chiselling noises inside the tent. Then a loud cry. ‘Arghhh!’

  13

  Not Sad

  ‘Help, what’s happening in that tent?’ Alfie whispered. ‘Is someone getting killed in there or what?’

  ‘Maybe it’s a dentist’s tent,’ Tim grinned. ‘With someone getting drilled.’

  Alfie looked at him with surprise. ‘You think so?’

  Alfie had such a strange expression on his face that Tim burst out laughing.

  ‘I’m just joking, Alfie.’

  Noura punched him on the shoulder.

  ‘Ow,’ Tim cried. ‘You can see it’s full moon again. You’re always a lot stronger then.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK. But, um, I think I know who’s in the tent. If you ask me it’s—’

  ‘Shhh,’ Alfie said. ‘Quiet. I can hear something.’

  Suddenly someone unzipped the tent. An elephant emerged, with a head under it.

  ‘Dad!’ Alfie exclaimed.

  Dad’s face was red and a tear was rolling out of the corner of his eye. He looked around with a confused expression.

  ‘Dad, what’s wrong?’ Tim exclaimed. ‘What are you doing in that tent?’

  Dad blinked. ‘That … is none of your business. I’m making art here. That requires silence and solitude. So you have to go away.’

  ‘But why are you crying?’ Noura asked. Dad wiped his eyes and held up his thumb.

  ‘My thumb. I hit it with the hammer. But I’m perfectly fine. I’m happy. I’m not sad. I’ve found a beautiful rock and I’m hacking away at it.’

  Tim stepped forward. ‘Can we have a look, Dad? How—’

  ‘Stop!’ Dad shouted. ‘Go back! Nobody’s allowed to see my work of art before it’s finished.’ His head disappeared and he zipped the tent back up. ‘Go away, all of you! I have to work.’

  Alfie looked at the tent. He heard the sound of the hammer and chisel. Clink! Clack! Iron on stone. And a sob every now and then.

  Suddenly a gust of wind rustled their hair. In that gust there was a scrap of song:

  Long, long ago, Armando was young

  In love with life, in love with blood …

  The ghostly song drifted off between the trees.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Alfie whispered.

  Noura nodded. ‘Just like last night!’

  ‘What?’ said Tim. ‘What did you hear?’

  14

  A Voice

  ‘It was the song wind,’ Alfie explained. ‘It was singing a strange song, but now it’s gone.’

  Noura stared into the distance as if she could see the wind drifting off between the trees. ‘Just like last night!’

  Tim screwed up his eyes. ‘Song wind? I don’t get to see anything and now I can’t hear anything either.’

  Alfie scratched his elbow. ‘Maybe the wind only sings for werewolf ears.’

  ‘Humph, a werewolf-ears-only wind! That’s not fair.’

  ‘It’s not our fault,’ Alfie said.

  Noura nodded. ‘It’s a weird song anyway. About some guy called Armando. It doesn’t mean a thing to us.’

  ‘Aargh!’

  The cry came from inside the tent. Zzrrripp! Again Dad’s head appeared.

  ‘I can’t concentrate with all your talking. I just bashed my thumb again. Will you please just go away?’ He looked at them sadly while wiping away another tear from the corner of his eye. ‘Go on!’ Dad’s head disappeared and the zip went back up again. Zzrrripp!

  Tim looked at Alfie and Noura. ‘Come on, let’s go somewhere else. Dad isn’t quite himself today.’

  They tiptoed away, not daring to speak again until they were out of sight of the tent.

  ‘It’s weird though,’ Alfie said. ‘Dad’s never this unfriendly. And he seems a bit sad too.’

  Noura hadn’t said anything for a while, as if she was thinking about other things, but suddenly her eyes lit up.

  ‘I know what it is!’

  Alfie looked at her with confusion. ‘What?’

  Noura clapped her hands and did a little jig. ‘Your dad found the weeping rock and put the tent up around it. But now he feels the sadness from the rock, just like we did. That’s why he’s acting so strange and sad. He’s sculpturing the rock.’

  Tim shook his head. ‘A weeping rock? I suppose that’s like the song wind, for werewolves only.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ Alfie said. ‘It’s really bothering Dad, so he must feel it too. And he’s no werewolf, no matter how much he’d love to be one.’

  Tim shrugged. ‘Let him figure it out for himself then. He’s sent us off, so there’s nothing we can do to help.’

  In the meantime they’d climbed to the top of the hill.

  ‘Look, Tim,’ Alfie whispered. ‘See that roof sticking up above the trees? That’s the mystery house.’

  They walked closer until they could see it clearly. In daylight the house even looked mysterious.

  ‘Cool,’ Tim said. ‘Time for a thorough investigation. And we’re the house inspectors.’

  ‘Don’t!’ said a voice behind them.

  15

  Olga

  Startled, they spun around and saw a girl with long blonde hair. She had light-blue eyes and was looking at Noura.

  ‘Hi, Noura,’ she said.

  Alfie stared at the girl with surprise. ‘Huh? Who are you? How do you know Noura’s name?’

  ‘Yeah, how do you know it?’ asked Noura.

  The girl smiled. ‘I recognize your hairclips. You were wearing them last night too. We saw each other right here. Remember?’ She looked at Alfie. ‘I recognize your glasses too. You were that cute little white werewolf, right? I’m Olga.’

  ‘Cute? Me? Um … I’m … Alfie,’ Alfie stuttered, his glasses misting over. ‘Wait a sec.’ He took off his glasses, wiped the lenses and put them back on. ‘So you’re one of the werewolves from last night.’

  Olga smiled. ‘Yes, just like you.’

  Tim was staring at Olga, his eyes wide and with a red blush on his cheeks. ‘Er … hello,’ he said. ‘I’m, um … Timothy!’

  Olga smiled sweetly at him and Tim blushed even more.

  ‘Are you a werewolf too, Timothy?’ Olga asked.

  ‘No, sorry. I’m—’

  Noura interrupted him. ‘So, Olga, what’s the story with you and all those other werewolves? First you wanted to play with us, then all of a sudden you ran off. Why?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain, Noura.’

  They sat down on the grass. Olga really did have extremely blonde hair and very light-blue eyes.

&n
bsp; ‘Where do you come from, Olga?’ Alfie asked.

  ‘Denmark. We all come from different countries.’

  Tim stared at Olga with dreamy eyes and his chin resting on his hands. ‘So you’re a werewolf too? How fascinating!’ He rubbed his chin. ‘You know … I’m actually an expert when it comes to werewolves. Some of my best friends are werewolves, so—’

  Alfie nudged him with his elbow.

  ‘Stop showing off, Tim-o-thy!’ he whispered.

  Olga smiled at Tim again. ‘That’s nice. Maybe we’ll end up being best friends too, Timothy.’

  Alfie saw Tim turning bright red yet again. Olga winked at him and he giggled quietly.

  ‘Shhh,’ Noura hissed, glaring at both Tim and Alfie. ‘Babies!’ Then she turned back to Olga. ‘Why are you all from different countries, Olga?’

  ‘We’re orphans,’ Olga explained. ‘Werewolf orphans. Igor comes from Russia, Kim Li from China, Nelson from Africa, Ashanti from India and Inouk comes from the North Pole.’

  ‘Wow, that’s cool!’ Tim said.

  Alfie sat up straight. ‘Hey, I’m a kind of werewolf orphan too. But lucky for me I’ve got the best foster parents in the world, Tim’s mum and dad.’

  Tim put an arm around Alfie’s shoulders.

  Olga shook her head sadly. ‘You’re lucky, Alfie. Not like us. None of us have foster parents. No one wanted us. That’s why the Organization picked us up.’

  ‘The what?’ Tim said.

  ‘The Organization!’ Olga pointed at her grey tracksuit with the letters WWW on it. ‘Worldwide Werewolf Waifs. They pick up werewolf orphans all over the world and bring them to live in Mooma’s werewolf orphanage.’

  Alfie’s mouth dropped and Tim stared at Olga with big eyes.

  ‘A werewolf orphanage?’ said Alfie. ‘You mean that big house?’

  Olga nodded. ‘Yes, that’s where Mooma and the werewolf orphans live. There’s been a werewolf orphanage here for hundreds of years.’

  Alfie looked at Noura. He could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Mooma? The Big Box?

  He swallowed. ‘Um, Olga. I’ve got a question. Actually I’ve got two. No, wait, maybe three! Who’s Mooma?’

  Olga sighed. ‘She used to be nice to us, but now …’

  Suddenly a gust of wind came out of the forest, rustling the bushes and making Alfie’s hair stand up on end. He looked up in fright.

  16

  Talking

  Olga turned pale and looked around with frightened eyes. Alfie followed her gaze. Was there something moving in the bushes? Something dark slid past. Or was it just the shadow of a cloud?

  The wind died down again and the leaves of the bushes stopped rustling. The sun lit up the paths. Olga sighed, clearly relieved.

  Phew, thought Alfie, it was nothing.

  ‘I’m not supposed to talk about it,’ Olga whispered. ‘Mooma doesn’t like us to! I’m not even supposed to be here. We’re being punished.’

  ‘Punished? What for?’ asked Alfie.

  ‘For running off into the forest last night. We didn’t have permission. That’s why we have to freeze in the icy cellar today. The others are all sitting there shivering, but I sneaked off.’

  ‘Can you get back into the cellar without being seen?’ Alfie asked.

  Olga nodded. ‘There’s a secret trapdoor under the bushes. We use it when we want to sneak out. But not too often, otherwise Mooma would notice.’

  Alfie cleared his throat. ‘Um … Who’s Mooma?’

  Olga looked at him and sighed. ‘Mooma runs the werewolf orphanage. She’s a werewolf too. And she’s very strict!’

  Noura nudged Alfie. ‘We saw her. Mooma. When we were in the house.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘The Big Box! I was scared to death!’

  Olga looked at him quizzically. ‘Are you scared of boxes?’

  ‘No,’ said Alfie. ‘Big Box is what I call—’

  Crack! Somewhere behind them a branch snapped. Olga jumped up.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said.

  ‘Wait!’

  ‘I can’t!’ Olga’s eyes darted left and right. ‘I have to hurry back now, before Mooma finds out I’m gone.’ She hesitated for a moment, looking at Tim and Alfie. ‘I’ve got an idea. Shall we meet again tonight? Here? If I can sneak off again?’

  Alfie gave her the thumbs-up. ‘OK! Good plan, Olga.’

  Olga waved, ran back to the big house and disappeared into the bushes. Tim gave a deep sigh, and so did Alfie. Noura didn’t say a word.

  On the way back they hardly spoke. Alfie couldn’t stop thinking about the Organization. What if the Organization had come for him before Tim’s parents took him in? He would have been living in Mooma’s werewolf orphanage too. Alfie shuddered.

  Then he thought of something else. If the werewolf orphanage is really old, Grandpa Werewolf must know about it too …

  It wasn’t long before they had arrived back at Dad’s tent, where they heard furious hammering and chiselling.

  ‘Wow,’ said Alfie. ‘Dad’s really getting into it. I wonder what it’s going to be.’

  They stood there for a while listening. Between the hacking sounds, they heard quiet mumbling. Alfie looked at Noura.

  ‘Who’s Dad talking to?’ He walked up to the tent and pressed his ear against the material. Tim and Noura did the same. They could make out Dad’s voice clearly. He sounded cheerful.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get you out all right … What’s that? No, don’t be silly! You’re a beautiful rock, so you’re bound to be a magnificent statue. Just leave that to this old sculpturer.’

  Noura looked at Alfie. ‘He’s talking to the rock!’

  Alfie nodded. ‘And you know what’s really strange? Dad thinks the rock is talking back!’

  17

  Don’t Worry

  The hacking stopped. Tim gestured, Get down! And they all dropped to the ground.

  Dad stepped out of the tent, turning back for a moment to say, ‘Relax. I’m not leaving you alone. I’m just getting a bit of fresh air.’

  Alfie noticed that his hands were black and his overalls filthy. Dad looked around and took a deep breath, then suddenly shouted, ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, OK! You’re the most impatient hunk of rock I’ve ever met!’ He hurried back into the tent.

  Alfie stood up. ‘Did you hear that?’ he whispered.

  Noura giggled.

  ‘We better tell Mum,’ Tim said. ‘Maybe we need to call a doctor.’

  ‘So Dad’s talking to a rock?’ Mum looked at Tim, Alfie and Noura for a moment, then burst out laughing. Tears sprang from her eyes. She held on to the table to keep from falling over. She quickly sat down on a chair and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  ‘It’s really nothing to worry about. You know what Dad’s like! Sometimes he wears a dress. Or flippers. The next thing you know he’s walking around with a flowerpot on his head. If he’s not wearing his elephant tea cosy of course. Not so long ago he suddenly started playing the accordion and now he’s talking to a rock. It’s brilliant, isn’t it? That’s him all over. There’s absolutely nothing the matter. Dad just loves being different. Because being ordinary is so … ordinary. That’s why I love him.’

  ‘But the rock,’ Alfie said. ‘It’s a weeping rock. It makes you sad. And he won’t even let us into the tent to have a look.’

  ‘What’s that I hear?’ With a groan, Grandpa Werewolf sat up on the sofa. He’d just woken up. He slid his hat back and stared at Alfie. ‘Did I hear correctly? Were you talking about a sad rock?’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Yes, Grandpa. There’s a rock close to the—’

  Quietly the old werewolf growled the words Alfie had heard before. ‘Close to the bank of the Silver River where the windswept pine trees groan …’

  Alfie’s mouth dropped. ‘I know that song.’

  ‘Me too,’ exclaimed Noura.

  ‘Not me,’ said Tim in a sad voice.

  Grandpa Werewolf slid back and forth on the sofa until h
e was comfortable, then rested his paws on the knob of his walking stick. Thoughtfully he stared out the window.

  ‘That’s the song of Armando the Grey. Only werewolves can hear it because … Because it’s an old werewolf story.’

  It was deathly still in the room, with all eyes fixed on Grandpa Werewolf. But Grandpa didn’t say another word. He just stared, unseeing, into the distance.

  ‘Grandpa,’ Alfie whispered, ‘who’s Armando the Grey?’

  18

  The Story of Armando the Grey

  Grandpa Werewolf gave a deep sigh and looked at Alfie.

  ‘The story of Armando the Grey is a long story, and it’s an old story too. The river knows his name, the trees know his sorrow and the wind sings his song.’

  ‘Was Armando a werewolf?’ Alfie asked.

  Grandpa Werewolf shook his head. ‘Armando the Grey was a vampire, but he was a harmless vampire because he didn’t have any fangs. A clever dentist pulled them out.’

  ‘That’s sad,’ Tim said. ‘At least, for a vampire it must have been.’

  Grandpa Werewolf nodded. ‘But that’s another story. Armando’s real sorrow came from something else. Armando was in love with a lady werewolf. It was an impossible love. A vampire and a werewolf don’t belong together.’

  ‘Why not?’ Alfie asked.

  Grandpa Werewolf shrugged. ‘That’s what they thought in the old days. It was forbidden. So Armando ended up alone. They say that the Silver River arose from the tears of Armando the Grey.’

  ‘That’s really sad,’ Noura said. ‘And romantic too. He must have cried so many tears.’

  Grandpa Werewolf growled softly. ‘Yes, it was hard on Armando, very hard. He went off to a dark place where the sun never shone and cried and cried. Day after day, week after week, year after year. And the Silver River arose at his feet.