The Phredde Collection (50 page)

We all flopped by the sidelines while Mrs Olsen handed out orange halves and flasks of water. I was about to ask Phredde to PING! up some iced watermelon, then remembered. No magic. It was really boring living without PING!s.

Mrs Olsen was really worked up now. Even if her friend was the Batrock Central teacher, she wanted us to win! She kept sipping from her thermos flask as she strode up and down. ‘Now, this is the plan! Edwin, I want you to…’

‘Excuse me, Mrs Olsen,’ said Edwin.

‘What? Now, it’s really important that you…’

‘But, Mrs Olsen…’

‘Edwin, don’t interrupt! You have to make sure you…’

‘I’m going to be sick!’ said Edwin. ‘Gurrrp!’

And he was.

If you’ve ever wondered what six artificial ice-block colours look like all combined in one tummy then
vomited up, I can only say…no, I won’t. You might never eat an ice block again.

We moved upwind a bit while the first-aid team took Edwin indoors.

‘Now what?’ cried Mrs Olsen. ‘We’ll be playing one team member down!’

‘Mrs Olsen!’ yelled Phredde, pointing behind me. ‘Look!’

I turned my head, just as a frog hopped out of the car park and down the hill towards the oval.

It was the biggest frog I had ever seen! Except for Bruce, of course. But this frog didn’t look like Bruce at all! It didn’t even look like a real frog! For a start, it was bright green with a yellow tummy, instead of shiny brown, and it had a big red fake-looking smile, and its skin looked flat and almost furry, instead of damp.

There was something weird about the way it hopped too.

It was getting closer, closer…the fake frog was almost on us now.

‘Hi!’ said the fake frog. ‘I’m sorry I’m late.’

‘Bruce!’ I yelled. I quite forgot I wasn’t talking to him.

‘The costume hire place was still ironing the frog suit!’ explained Bruce. ‘They wouldn’t let me have it till it was ironed.’

‘But…but…’ I said.

‘I TOLD them it didn’t have to be ironed for a football match,’ added Bruce. ‘But they insisted.’

‘But…but…’ said Mrs Olsen. She blinked behind her dark glasses. ‘WHY are you in a frog costume, Bruce?’

‘Because Mr Ploppy…I mean,
Plothiebotham
said
I couldn’t play if I was using magic to be a frog. But I’m not a frog now. I’m in a frog costume.’

‘Couldn’t you just play without the costume?’ Mrs Olsen looked a bit out of her depth.

Bruce shook his bright green head. ‘I only know how to play football as a frog!’

‘Oh,’ said Mrs Olsen. ‘That’s…’ She shook her head helplessly as the ref blew his whistle again. Half-time was over.

We trailed out onto the field. Those bats had a furry, determined look now. They knew we wouldn’t be easily beaten. Vampire bats aren’t used to losing. And neither are we, alliophobes
¹⁵
! I thought. I wondered if we should have had garlic instead of oranges at half-time. No, I thought, that wouldn’t have been playing fair.

The Batrock bats flapped about a metre off the field, their little vampire fangs gleaming in the sun. But one of the advantages of having a vampire as a teacher is that fangs don’t make you fret.

‘Ribbet. Ribbet.’ Bruce bounced up and down gently in the middle of the field. Somehow he sounded even more like a frog now, when he wasn’t a frog at all.

I was so glad to see him I didn’t even bother glaring at him. Okay, so he’d stopped being a frog—sort of—for the football match, even if he hadn’t bothered to change for my party. But at least he was here now!

The ball soared into the air above us. Bruce bounced high, and higher still. But not high enough. Batrock had the ball! It was a blond bat now, zooming down the field, his little bat body casting a speeding shadow on the grass.

‘Stop him!’ I shrieked. ‘Or her,’ I added, because who can tell with bats?

The score was seven to four. We were still losing!

‘Go for the jugular! Go for the jugular! Suck the suckers dry!’ shrieked Mrs Olsen from the sidelines. She was really getting carried away.

Fat lot of use that was, I thought. Do bats even have jugular veins?

I caught Phredde’s eye, then Bruce’s and Amelia’s. It was time to get serious!

Phredde sped up to grab the ball, then zoomed back and down to me.

I took the ball from her as a bat fluttered up behind her, then passed it to Amelia just as another bat tried to land on my nose. Amelia threw the ball to Bruce. He bounced up and passed to Phredde who passed to me, then I tossed it back to Bruce…

‘Keep running!’ Bruce croaked at me, as he stuffed the ball down his frog suit. ‘Pretend you still have the ball!’

‘Why…’ But Bruce was hopping down the field before I had time to finish the question.

I curled my arm up as though the ball was still there, and kept on running.

Zap! A bat landed on my shoulder. I brushed it off. Zoom! A bat butted me in the back.

What were they doing? I didn’t have the ball!

And then I realised. They were bats!

Bats can’t see—their little squeaks bounce off objects. The bats couldn’t see that Bruce had the ball, because a froggy lump is still a froggy lump, even when there is a football in the lump as well.

Suddenly the vampires realised something was wrong.

FLOOP! FLOOP! FLOOP! All over the field bats turned back into boys and girls, so they could see what we were up to.

But it was too late! Bruce hopped the final few metres over the line—it was a try!

Could he convert it? Mrs Olsen waved her thermos of bloo…red stuff in triumph! ‘Go to it, Bruce!’ she shrieked.

Bruce hoicked the ball out of the left front leg of his costume and placed it on the ground. He took aim, then kicked. The ball sailed upwards, over the goalposts…

Then stopped.

FLOOP! FLOOP! FLOOP! The sky was full of bats again. Their wings were fanning the ball away.

‘No!’ I cried. But even before the word was finished Bruce had soared into the air. Higher, higher. That frog could jump!

Swot! His tongue zapped out and pushed the ball the final centimetres through the goalposts!

He’d done it! Bruce’s tongue had done it!

Except…I suddenly stopped cheering. Bruce wasn’t a REAL frog now, so he didn’t have his superduper tongue. So…

I glanced over at him. No one else had noticed—they were so used to Bruce’s tongue by now they didn’t even think about it. Bruce met my eyes, then slowly winked.

I let out a breath I didn’t know that I’d been holding. It was still Bruce inside that suit! The real Bruce!

And suddenly I realised. Yes, that WAS the real Bruce. Bruce was happy as a frog. He hadn’t given in to
Mr Ploppy Bottom! And that meant that…maybe—I gulped—he shouldn’t give in to me!

‘Pru!’ shrieked Amelia furiously.

But there was no time for that now. I grabbed the ball and darted down the field. We had the lead, 11–7! And we were going to keep it!

A bat dived down my jersey.

‘Look, buster!’ I snorted, tossing the ball to Phredde and hauling the bat out by its claws. ‘You’d better be a girl bat or I’m going to be seriously mad!’

The bat squeaked something rude at me—well, it sounded rude even if I don’t speak bat—and flapped off.

We had to get the ball to Bruce again! But the bats were awake to that ploy now! At least two fluttered about Bruce’s froggy head, while the others zapped between.

‘Ow!’ Amelia rolled on the ground in pain.

The ref blew his whistle as we ran up to her.

‘What’s wrong!’ I cried.

‘My ankle, I’ve twisted it! I slipped in a pile of bat dung! They must have all doo-dooed together!’

‘Foul!’ cried Mrs Olsen. ‘Really, really foul!’

The referee blinked. ‘I don’t think there’s anything in the rules about bat doo-doo.’

The first-aid team helped Amelia off the field.

Now we really were one team member down!

We’d had the ball when the whistle blew, so we had it when the game began again. Phredde crouched low—which is really low if you’re a phaery—and sent the ball in, almost at ground level.

But those bats were no fools! They’d been expecting something like that. One swooped so low it set the
grass blades quivering, and zapped the ball before I’d had time to blink.

We had to get it back! And fast! I glanced at my watch. Only two minutes to go. If we didn’t catch them now they’d win!

I could hear Phredde panting up above me. Phredde can flap her wings like they’re tornado powered, but there was only one of her in the air and a whole team of bats. If only we had another set of wings on our side!

There was no way Phredde could get the ball now. The vampires were going to score, which meant they could still win. And there was nothing we could do about it.

Suddenly the ground shook beneath my boots. Something pounded onto the oval. Something with giant ducky feet, three metres of feathers, and a great curved beak. Something with wings that half flew, half jumped across the field and plucked the ball—vampire bat and all—out of the air.

‘Cuddles!’ I screamed. ‘This way!’

‘Quack!’ Cuddles galloped towards me, the ball, and the now-protesting bat, still in her beak.

‘Come on!’ I raced down the field to the goalpost with Cuddles thundering after me. The bat squeaked madly, trying to get away, but nothing gets away from Cuddles’s beak!

No one even tried to stop us! The bats flew madly over to the sidelines, and even our team got as far away from those Demon Duck feet and giant beak as they could.

We had the entire oval to ourselves! I grabbed the ball from Cuddles’s beak (the badly upset bat had
managed to wriggle free by now) just as we crossed the line and pressed it to the ground.

Touchdown!

‘Quack!’ Cuddles pecked the ball out of my hands and swallowed it. The referee blew his whistle.

The game was over!

Well, we won.

There was a bit of an argument over it actually. But, as Mrs Olsen said, we were one player down, and if bats and frogs and phaeries are allowed to play football, then Demon Ducks of Doom should be allowed to play as well.

I think the Batrock coach wanted to take it further, but one look from Cuddles’s beady little eyes accompanied by a sharp ‘Quack’ made him shut his mouth and fly out of reach.

And then Cuddles ate the spare balls too and started on the goalposts, so everyone decided it was time to have afternoon tea.

Then we went home to change for the dance.

‘Is my appearance satisfactory?’ asked Shaun.

I looked him up and down. He was human again, well, a vampire and not a bat. He’d gone for the traditional vampire look too. Black satin cloak with red lining and a big collar, a brilliant white silk shirt and black pants, finished off with shiny shoes and polished fangs. Even his black hair looked polished too.

‘Great,’ I told him. Well, it was Halloween! ‘How about me?’

‘Bodacious!’ he assured me. Well, I think it was a compliment.

Actually, I did look pretty hot. It’s difficult finding a Halloween costume in a school like ours. I mean obviously vampires were out of the question and so were phaeries. And I’d already had too many run-ins with trolls, Ancient Egyptian mummies, ogres, zombies, and bogey men—well, one bogey man, er, girl (her name is Jessica and she’s in the class below us)—to be one of those.

So I’d dressed up as a pumpkin. No, not a great, fat round-looking pumpkin. It was what a pumpkin would look like if it had the advantages of a whole lot of fashion magazines and great clothes sense, plus a best friend who could PING! up anything you wanted! My hat was long and green and dangling, like a silky stalk. My dress was pumpkin-coloured and sort of billowed out in pumpkin folds. My shoes looked like pumpkin seeds, except they were foot-shaped not seed-shaped, and my nails were orange too, and so was my hair especially for the occasion.

The doorbells jangled above our drawbridge. ‘That’ll be Phredde,’ I said. I leant out of the tower window. ‘PING! us down!’ I yelled.

‘No worries!’ called Phredde. ‘I’ll come up to you!’

PING! The carpet hovered outside the window, with Phredde and her vampire billet, Janet, sitting in the middle. Janet had gone for the vampire look like Shaun, except her dress was long, red and silky. Her cloak was red on the outside with a black lining and her hair was big and blonde. And of course, her fangs were all brushed and shiny too.

‘Golly gosh!’ said Shaun happily, gazing out the window at the carpet. ‘We will perambulate in style!’

Floosh! One well-groomed bat darted out the window and perched on the edge of the magic carpet next to Phredde and Janet. I sat on the windowsill and swung my legs out.

‘See you later, Mum!’ I shouted.

‘What?’ Mum poked her head around the door and stared at the strange sight of her only daughter dressed as a pumpkin, and about to slide through a tower window onto a magic carpet with a vampire, a bat and
a phaery. But Mum is slowly getting used to things like that. (It takes grown-ups a while to get up to speed on new things, like programming DVD players and PING!s.) ‘Er…have a nice time, Prudence darling,’ she said. ‘You’ve got your mobile phone?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘And you’ll be home by 10.30?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

It was safe saying
Yes, Mum
to that one, because if I DID want to stay later, Phredde could always PING! me back to 10.30. Even though it was against school rules now to PING! on school grounds, Phredde could hold off the PING! till we were on our way home.

I waited in case Mum wanted to ask me if I had my sun block on too, but it turned out that even Mum couldn’t stress about UV rays at a night-time dance because she just said, ‘You will take care, won’t you, Prudence?’

‘MUM!’ I protested. ‘I’m just going to a school Halloween dance! What can possibly happen to me?’

Then I swung my legs out of the tower window, leapt a metre over the moat and the piranhas two-hundred metres below, and settled down on the magic carpet.

We were off to the dance!