Alfie the Werewolf 1: Birthday Surprise Read online

  Dad backed out of the cupboard. He was wearing wellies and Mum’s apron. ‘With that scarf over your mouth I can’t understand a word you’re saying.’

  Tim pushed Alfie towards the back door. ‘Alfie’s got that stuff on as a precaution,’ he blurted. ‘So it won’t hurt as much if he falls over.’

  Dad raised an eyebrow and rubbed the bump that had appeared on his forehead. ‘If you ask me, a helmet and knee guards would be better. But that looks good too.’

  ‘I’d rather wear a hat and scarf than an apron and swimming trunks,’ Tim said.

  Dad looked at him in astonishment. ‘Don’t you like this apron? And trunks are very practical if you’re working with water.’

  Tim nodded. ‘Yeah, sure. Can we go now?’

  Dad hesitated for a moment. ‘OK, but be back within an hour. And remember …’

  But Tim and Alfie were already gone. Tim’s father shook his head, smiling. ‘Alfie’s taking after me,’ he said. ‘He can’t get enough of dressing up either.’ He lifted his apron by two corners. ‘I think it’s a cute little apron,’ he mumbled. Then he dived back under the sink.

  Tim and Alfie were hiding behind three wheelie bins.

  ‘He lives there,’ Tim said, pointing across the lane at a house with a large garage. There was a bike lying on the front drive. Loud rap music was coming from a room upstairs.

  ‘That’s Nick’s bike,’ whispered Tim. ‘And that’s his room up there. Nick loves rap.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Can you hold my stuff?’ he growled. He took off the hat and scarf and pulled off his gloves. Alfie got undressed, quickly taking off his jeans, coat and everything else. His hairy paws, body and tail appeared.

  He stretched, opened his jaws wide and spread his claws. The hairs of his white coat stood up on end.

  Tim gulped for a second. Seeing your best friend with a tail, claws and sharp teeth wasn’t something you got used to.

  ‘Are you sure you want to go through with this plan?’ he asked.

  ‘Wrow.’

  ‘OK, let’s do it.’

  They sneaked out from behind the bins. The street was now empty.

  ‘Come on,’ Tim whispered.

  They rushed across the road, then walked up the garden path, past the bike. In Nick’s room the rap music had stopped.

  ‘Wait a sec,’ Tim whispered.

  He bent over to let down the tyres of Nick’s bike.

  ‘There,’ he grinned. ‘That’s one-nil to us.’

  Tim picked up a pebble from the path. Alfie was already standing under Nick’s window.

  ‘Ready?’ Tim asked.

  Alfie nodded. ‘Wrow.’

  Tim brought his arm back and threw the pebble. It whizzed up and with a loud click it bounced off Nick’s window.

  CLACK!

  Tim turned and sprinted back to the other side of the street.

  21

  Nick-ee!

  Nick Bragman was sitting on his bed with one trouser leg pulled up past his knee, examining his leg. The teeth marks were clearly visible. That friend of Tim’s had bitten right into him. The little four-eyed brat! But I’ll get him back, thought Nick. Tomorrow I’ll kick him from one side of the playground to the other - and Tim with him. They’ve got it coming! I’m not going to let them make a fool of me.

  CLACK!

  Nick jumped. What was that?

  Something had banged against his window. He listened carefully, but it was dead quiet.

  Nick walked over to the window and slid the curtain to one side. He looked out angrily. Who dared to throw stones at his window?

  Behind the glass, Nick froze. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Down there in the garden was something …

  Something … terrifying.

  Nick couldn’t think of how to describe it. He could hardly think at all. It was a wolf. All white, with fluffy ears and claws and teeth.

  But it couldn’t be. That was impossible.

  Nick rubbed his eyes with his fists and looked again.

  The wolf was still sitting there. It was looking straight up at his room and snarling at him! And the strangest thing of all was that the wolf was wearing glasses. Glasses just like the ones the brat who bit him wore. The wolf opened its jaws and out of its throat came a terrible howl that sounded like ‘Nick-ee!’

  Nick felt it through his whole body. He was so scared he almost wet himself. And suddenly he remembered what Alfie had said in the playground: ‘At night I’m a wild, ravenous beast.’

  Of course, that was impossible. But now there was a wild, ravenous beast waiting for him under his window.

  In one dizzy moment Nick understood. Alfie was a werewolf! And he was going to get him and tear him to shreds.

  Nick started shaking. His cheeks wobbled and tears poured from his eyes. He was so scared that he sank down on his knees by the windowsill and began to pray.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Please make the werewolf go away. I’ll never bully anyone again. I’ll always be a good boy. I’ll even do the washing up. And I’ll stop pinching the three-year-old girl next door.’

  Slowly, he stood up straight. Would the beast be gone?

  Nick counted to three, then opened his eyes. There were white paws on the window ledge.

  Nick’s mouth opened wide, but no sound came out of it. He was staring straight into the werewolf’s eyes.

  22

  Ow! Ow!

  Nick gasped for breath.

  The werewolf was hanging off his window ledge. The monster opened its jaws and licked its teeth.

  ‘Wrow, Nick-ee!’

  A white paw reached out towards him. Long nails shot out of the paw and scraped over the glass. Nick cringed backwards, then turned and ran out of the room screaming, ‘Mummy, help! There’s a wolf in my room. It wants to eat me up.’

  Tim was in the lane behind the bins.

  He could hear Nick screaming for help through the window. Tim laughed so hard he almost fell over.

  Alfie was fantastic. He was still hanging from the window ledge.

  Alfie saw Nick run out of the room. Nick must have totally wet himself! He was still shouting, ‘Mummy, Mummy!’

  Time to get out of here, thought Alfie. He let go of the window ledge and dropped, landing neatly on all fours in the flowerbed. He shot out of the garden like a white stripe.

  Tim was ready with his clothes.

  ‘That was so cool,’ Tim said. ‘Quick, get dressed.’

  Alfie pulled on his jeans. The hardest bit was getting them on over his tail, but with Tim’s help he managed. Alfie wormed his head into his jumper and pushed his front legs into the sleeves. He pulled the hat down over his head and put on the scarf. Then he pulled on his coat and finally his wellies.

  ‘Ready?’

  ‘Wrow!’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  Calmly, they walked into the street. An enormous racket was coming through Nick’s window.

  ‘It’s true!’ Nick shouted. ‘There was a wolf hanging off the window ledge. A werewolf!’

  Tim and Alfie looked up.

  They could see Nick and his mother through the window.

  ‘You never believe me!’ Nick screamed.

  ‘Because you always lie,’ Nick’s mother shouted. ‘And you’re lying again now. One: there aren’t any wolves around here. Two: werewolves don’t exist. Three: they definitely don’t go around hanging off bedroom window ledges.’

  In a fury, Nick yelled a very nasty word. Then he screamed, ‘Ow!’

  His mother had grabbed his ear and given it a squeeze.

  Nick jumped back and looked out of the window. His face was red, as if he was about to cry.

  Tim and Alfie waved cheerfully before disappearing around the corner.

  ‘There! There they go!’ Nick screamed.

  ‘Liar!’ his mother shouted, grabbing him by the ear again.

  ‘Ow!’

  Choking with laughter, Tim and Alfie ran into their own street.

  ‘That was
so cool, Alfie,’ Tim said. ‘Your plan was brilliant. You can have fun as a werewolf after all.’

  ‘Wrow.’

  ‘Tim was right. As a werewolf, Alfie dared to do things he would never have done otherwise. Maybe being different from other people wasn’t always such a bad thing. For the first time he felt all right as a werewolf. All right? He felt fantastic.

  He jumped in the air and kicked off his wellies. They weren’t comfortable. He preferred to walk on his bare wolf paws. He caught the boots and threw them far away in front of him. They thumped down on the pavement further down the street.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ Tim said. ‘Someone will see—’

  ‘Hey, you two, wait a minute,’ screeched a voice.

  23

  Slippers

  Mrs Chalker was standing at her garden gate. She was wearing her hat with the feathers again.

  ‘She probably sleeps in it,’ Tim whispered. ‘Maybe it’s even stuck to her head.’

  Alfie didn’t answer. ‘My feet,’ he growled through his teeth. ‘If she sees my feet she’ll scream blue murder.’

  ‘Act normal,’ Tim whispered. ‘Then she won’t notice. That old biddy’s as blind as a bat.’

  Mrs Chalker was carrying a big bag. She must have just been to the supermarket. The bag was half open. It was stuffed full of leads, cables, lamps, horns and other strange devices.

  ‘What did you buy?’ Tim asked, looking into the bag inquisitively. ‘Are you having a party?’

  Mrs Chalker snapped her bag shut. ‘Never you mind, smarty-pants. What are you doing out so late?’

  Mrs Chalker pointed at Alfie with her umbrella. ‘You’re a funny little fellow. Why is your hat pulled down like that? Why have you got a scarf over your nose? It’s hardly freezing, is it? You look like a gangster … Or are you feeling guilty about something? Scared to show our face, are we?’ She poked Alfie in the stomach with her umbrella. ‘Well, speak up! There’s something funny about you. I can smell it. Strange things have been happening around here lately. You two wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?’

  Tim was starting to get fed up with the old busybody. ‘We don’t know anything about anything, Mrs Chalker,’ he said. ‘Alfie’s just got a cold, that’s all.’

  Mrs Chalker kept looking at Alfie as if he was a lost Eskimo, he was wrapped up that well. The lenses of his glasses gleamed in the moonlight.

  ‘Those glasses look familiar,’ Mrs Chalker mumbled. Slowly her eyes drifted away from his face, down his coat to his legs, and finally to his …

  Mrs Chalker screamed.

  ‘Ah, those feet! What kind of feet are they? They’re not feet! They’re—’

  ‘Slippers,’ Tim said quickly. ‘Great, aren’t they? I’ve got striped tiger’s paws. Alfie got wolf paws. They’re lovely and warm, these slippers. Alfie likes them so much he even wears them outside.’

  Alfie held his breath while the seconds ticked away. Would Mrs Chalker believe Tim’s story? And if she didn’t, what then?

  ‘Oh, of course, slippers.’ Mrs Chalker gave a very short laugh.

  ‘What did you think they were?’ Tim asked.

  Mrs Chalker screwed one eye shut. Her other eye had a sly, yellow gleam to it.

  ‘Nothing!’ she said. ‘I didn’t think anything at all.’

  In the coop, the chickens started cackling again. Alfie’s ears pricked up under his hat. The werewolf hunger started rising up again inside him at the thought of one of those tender, juicy chickens - mmmmmm. But it wasn’t allowed. He had to keep himself under control.

  ‘Shut up or I’ll wring your necks!’ Mrs Chalker yelled at the chicken coop. ‘If you ask me, those stupid chickens are all mixed up. What could be causing it?’

  She squinted at Alfie.

  Tim laid a hand on Alfie’s shoulder.

  ‘No idea, Mrs Chalker. We have to go home.’

  He pulled Alfie away before she could ask any more strange questions. On the way, he picked up Alfie’s boots.

  Alfie didn’t dare go in through the back door. He was scared that Tim’s parents would see him.

  ‘I’ll take the drainpipe,’ he said.

  He clambered up the pipe as quick as anything. Tim watched Alfie disappear over the window ledge and for a moment he felt a pang of jealousy. Being able to climb like that must be amazing - as long as nobody caught you at it, of course.

  Fortunately everything had gone well. The three nights of full moon were over and Alfie was safe in his room. Tomorrow he would be an ordinary little boy again and they would have a month to look for that mystery man.

  If he exists, that is, Tim thought. Maybe Alfie made him up. Or he’d been sitting there dreaming in the park.

  Tim went inside and put Alfie’s boots down on the mat in the kitchen. The floor was sopping wet. The pipes under the sink were held together with bandages and plasters.

  Tim shook his head and laughed. Dad’s swimming trunks hadn’t helped, he thought.

  Then he heard voices in the living room. Dad’s and Mum’s and a voice he didn’t know.

  ‘So you’re absolutely certain,’ the voice said. ‘You haven’t seen a strange kind of wolf anywhere in the neighbourhood?’

  24

  Mr Collins

  Worried, Tim walked into the room.

  ‘Ah, Tim,’ Dad said. He was sitting on the sofa next to Mum, wearing a tea cosy on his head. ‘Say hello to Mr Collins.’

  A man in a raincoat was sitting in one of the armchairs. He had a beard and a black bag. Tim hesitated, then nodded hello.

  ‘Mr Collins is from the RCUPA,’ Mum said.

  Tim looked at the man suspiciously. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.

  ‘The Reception Centre for Unusual People and Animals.’

  ‘Oh! And what does a reception centre like that do?’

  ‘We have a splendid collection of Unusual People and Animals,’ Mr Collins replied. ‘Our latest acquisition was a rare black stork, captured last year at a primary school. We also have a granny who thinks she’s a cowboy. She shares her cage with a very large crocodile. It’s her best friend. And besides that …’

  Tim had stopped listening. For a moment he felt dizzy. Disaster! flashed through his thoughts. They know. They’ve come for Alfie.

  A werewolf is an unusual person and an unusual animal in one. They’re going to lock him up.

  What should he do? Warn Alfie so that he could escape? Give Mr Collins a kick? Pretend that he’s suddenly come down with a deadly disease so that everyone would panic?

  ‘Mr Collins is here for a neighbourhood survey,’ Mum explained. ‘Someone from our street rang him up with a strange story.’

  ‘Mrs Chalker,’ Dad said, winking at Tim.

  ‘Exactly,’ Mr Collins said. ‘That lady told me that she saw a white wolf in her garden. A white wolf wearing glasses.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Tim.

  ‘We of the RCUPA are extremely interested in wolves with glasses. They’re unusual animals. To tell you the truth, I’ve never even heard of them. But of course we investigate all rumours about unusual animals or people.’

  ‘Oh,’ Tim said again. He was so relieved he felt like shouting. The man didn’t know anything. He was only doing a survey.

  ‘Mrs Chalker is a nut,’ Tim said.

  The man from the RCUPA looked shocked.

  ‘Shame on you, Tim,’ Dad said with a smile. ‘You mustn’t say things like that. It’s true, but you mustn’t say it.’

  Mr Collins looked a little confused. He stared at the tea cosy on Dad’s head, as if he’d found an unusual person for his reception centre. Then he turned back to Tim.

  ‘You haven’t by any chance seen a wolf with glasses, have you?’

  Tim nodded.

  His parents stared at him in astonishment.

  Mr Collins sat up straight. He got a pen and paper out of his bag.

  ‘You’re quite sure, son? Where exactly was it?’

  Tim smirked and didn’t say a word.r />
  ‘Come on, Tim,’ his father said. ‘Spit it out. Mr Collins is waiting for an answer and we’re very curious as well.’

  Tim nodded. A broad smile appeared on his face.

  ‘In a cartoon on TV.’

  Mr Collins sighed and put the pen and paper back in his bag. ‘Well, if you do happen to see a wolf like that in real life, give us a call. We’ll keep a cage free for it, next to our unusual black stork.’

  Mum showed Mr Collins out while Dad put the tea cosy back on the teapot.

  ‘There, my head’s warm enough now.’

  Tim looked at him thoughtfully.

  ‘Dad,’ he said at last. ‘Why do you always put strange things on your head? And why do you always wear such weird clothes? Normal people don’t do stuff like that, do they?’

  Dad smiled.

  ‘Normal is so ordinary,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to be the same as everyone else. That’s boring.’

  Tim hesitated. He was thinking about how strange it was. Alfie didn’t want to be different from other people. But that was just what his dad wanted. Then he asked, very carefully, ‘Dad?’

  ‘Yes, Tim.’

  ‘If you saw a wolf with glasses, would you call the RCUPA?’

  For a long time Dad stared silently at an empty flowerpot on the windowsill. He grabbed the pot, turned it upside down, and put it on his head. Then he looked at Tim and pulled a funny face.

  ‘I think I’d just keep it,’ he said. ‘Even if it turned out to be a werewolf! That’d be really different!’

  25

  The Man from the Park

  The next morning, Alfie was walking to school with Tim.

  ‘So this Mr Collins really doesn’t know that I’m a werewolf?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Tim answered. ‘He doesn’t know anything. He was there because of Mrs Chalker. You really don’t need to be scared of Mr Collins.’

  ‘Phew,’ Alfie sighed.