Spider Stampede (2 page)

Josh pushed his hands into his shorts pockets and grinned. “Mandibles,” he muttered, quietly. He didn't think Danny would know what this word was. He'd read only yesterday that mandibles were what spiders used for eating. Not teeth exactly. Just sort of munchy parts on their faces.

Danny hated anything creepy-crawly. For twins, he and Josh were very different. Josh was fascinated by small creatures and bugs. He had tons of wildlife books. He used to bring woodlice, snails, and beetles into the house. But Jenny, their older sister, found earwigs in her hair dryer. Then Danny screamed loud enough to wake the dead after stepping into his brother's box of centipedes when he got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. So Mom said Josh could only look at bugs and stuff outside. It was probably just as well. If Jenny didn't squash them flat with a sandal, Mom would suck them up in the vacuum cleaner. Or Piddle would eat them. Piddle, their scruffy little terrier (named after a habit he had when he got overexcited), liked nothing more than to munch up a spider if he spotted one sauntering by.

“How can you
like
those things?” Danny asked. He pulled his shorts and T-shirt on over his swimming trunks. He'd soured on the wading pool. Too many dead flies in it. “Ewww! I wish there weren't any insects in the world!”

“One, spiders aren't insects—they're arachnids,” said Josh. He climbed up the jungle gym. “And two, if there were no insects in the world, we would all die out. The human race depends on them.”

“You freaky little bug geek!” muttered Danny.

“Lucky for you that I
do
like them!” added Josh. “Or we'd
both
be screaming and wiggling all over the garden right now.”

Danny ignored him. He checked his spiky fair hair with a shiver just in case another spider had dropped in. Josh's hair was short and neat. He wouldn't mind a spider in it at all. How could twins be so different? wondered Danny. He pulled on his sneakers. He loved playing computer games and listening to loud music. Josh would rather play with newts and listen to birdsong.

But Danny had to admit he was useful for creepy-crawly removal.

Danny abandoned the water pistol and picked up his skateboard. Soon he was racing up and down the path. Piddle was racing along beside him, yapping and nearly tripping him up every ten seconds.

Upstairs from Jenny's bedroom window a pop tune thumped loudly. From the kitchen poured the burble of daytime TV, which their mom liked to watch while she did the ironing.

From the other side of the high wooden fence, there came a thump. And then another thump. And then a crotchety voice. “
Will
you all shut up! I'd have a quieter afternoon on the main runway at the airport!” Josh grimaced. It was Miss Potts, who lived in the run-down red brick house next door. People thought she was a bit eccentric. An old witch more like, thought Josh.

“I SAID,” came the voice again, louder. “Will you all SHUT UP?!”

But Mom and Jenny and Danny and Piddle were all making way too much noise to hear. “Sorry, Miss Potts,” said Josh. He felt embarrassed. “I'll ask them to be quieter.”

“Oh, don't bother!” she snapped back. The top of her tweedy hat was the only thing he could see over the fence. “I'll soon be deaf and then it won't matter!”

Josh waved at Danny and mouthed, “Miss Potts!”

Danny skidded his skateboard to a halt, shaking his head. Piddle sat back on his furry bottom. He waited, wiggling impatiently, for the fun to start again.

Josh ran past him and pushed the kitchen window shut. At once the noise from Mom's TV program dropped. He could still hear Miss Potts though, just on the other side of the fence. She was muttering, “Remember! Remember!
Oh, you stupid old biddy!
Remember! Where did you hide them? Where?”

Josh bent down. He peered through a knothole in the wood. He saw the old lady crawling along through the weeds, which were nearly as tall as he was, obviously searching for something. Then she suddenly bobbed up. She thwacked her hand hard against her forehead and snapped, “STUPID old woman! Had to go and get your brain burnt out, didn't you?” Then she stood up and stomped off into her ramshackle garden shed.

It was right what they said about Petty Potts, Josh decided. She really was crazy.

“She's always moaning about noise!” Danny said, suddenly, right in his ear. Josh jumped. “Does she think this is a library or something? It's a freakin' yard! Kids play in yards. Dogs play in yards!” And he picked up a rubber ball and threw it for Piddle. “There you go, Piddle! Catch!”

Piddle hurtled down the path. He threw himself into the pile of yard clippings and compost in the far corner. “Don't pay any attention to her. Old whiny pants,” said Danny. “Come on, Piddle! Here, boy!”

They glanced back across the yard expecting to see Piddle foraging through the leaves and cut grass. Then they both blinked and stared back at each other in surprise.

Piddle had vanished.

“Look, there's a hole! He must have squeezed through,” grunted Josh. He was almost upside down in the compost pile. “He's gone next door!”

“Can we get through after him?” asked Danny. He peered over Josh's shoulder and eyed the compost pile warily. It was
full
of horrible things, he knew. Worms, beetles, ants, spiders…ugh.

“Maybe—if we wriggle…” said Josh.

“Or should we just go over and knock and ask for him back?” Danny said, hopefully. He
really
didn't want to get personal with that heap of horrors.

“What—like a lost ball?” scoffed Josh. “We've never got one of
those
back from her before, have we? No…I think…we can almost…”

Josh wriggled and dug down through the warm, moist dirt and leaves between the back of the compost pile and the fence. The wood around the small hole was old and rotten. As Josh pushed against it, more fell away. He squeezed his head and shoulders through, getting a face full of overgrown grass. Then he crawled right into Miss Potts's yard. With a few grunts and complaints, Danny followed. He tried not to notice anything scuttling in the heap. The tickly feeling on his skin was just grass…probably. With a squeak of revulsion, he knocked off a centipede. Then he hurtled through the gap after Josh, grazing his left ear.

“Piddle! Piddle!” Josh was calling, softly. No reply. No patter of little clawed feet. No yap.

The weeds grew up to their waists, filled with invisible chirruping grasshoppers. As Josh and Danny crawled through the high grass and nettles, they heard one shrill little bark. “He's in her shed!” gasped Danny.

“And
she's
in there!” said Josh, with a gulp. “She'll be going nuts! We have to go in and rescue him.”

The shed door was open. They tiptoed in. At first it all looked quite normal. There was a rake propped up by the door. A wheelbarrow under some old shelves, full of gardening stuff. An old sheet was hung up on nails at the back.

“It doesn't
smell
like a shed,” whispered Danny. “It smells like…like…”

“Like school,” said Josh. “Sort of…” But he couldn't figure out exactly why.

“Yes…something at school,” agreed Danny, not bothering to whisper now. “But they're not in here, are they?”

Then there was another bark. It was
definitely
coming from
inside
the shed. Danny and Josh stared at each other in confusion. Then Danny strode to the back wall, grabbed the old sheet hanging on the nails, and pulled it aside. Behind it was a red metal door.

The door was ajar. Pushing it open, Danny saw gray stone steps leading a short way down to a passage. “Come on!” Danny went through. Josh followed, staring around him. Wobbly metal panels—corrugated iron, thought Josh—curved up over them in an arch. At the end of the passage was a well-lit room as big as their bedroom and Jenny's put together. And in the middle of it, right ahead of them, was a sort of square plastic see-through tent. And in the middle of
that
was Piddle.