Pog, page 6
Mouse didn’t reply. There wasn’t even the tiny tremble of a mouse whisker on the kitchen air.
Pog turned to look at Mouse, but Mouse was gone. Pog had been so busy concentrating on what might be outside he hadn’t noticed Mouse leave the kitchen.
And then Pog heard the snap of steel.
He heard the tiny shriek in the distance.
‘Mouse!’ Pog roared.
He sprang across the kitchen and out the door.
15
Penny was back home in London. She was in the garden. The sun was beating down, and the lawn was a fiery lime green.
She held her head up and felt the warmth on her face. The heat of the sunlight was just a smidgen away from being too stifling.
That was when she heard the voice calling her name.
‘Mum?’ she said, her lips moving thickly.
She went into the house, the kitchen first, calling for her mother. There was no sign of her. She went into the sitting room next and that too was empty. She ran into the hallway. As she searched she became aware that the whole house was empty, and the truth finally hit her that she was the only person inside. She looked outside through the glass beside the hallway door, and the street was warm and bathed in sunlight, and it too was empty and silent. For some reason the warmth and brightness of the day made it all the more unnerving.
She started to panic. The sensation of being utterly alone increased as she went from room to room, and the suffocating silence expanded like a foul mushroom growing in the dark. She called out, but her voice seemed tiny and lost in the emptiness. She searched another room, and another room, until it seemed they would go on into infinity, and all the while she screamed, ‘MUM!’ but it wasn’t a word she could voice or hear. It was trapped in her skull, just as she was trapped in this empty house. Trapped inside her own head and inside this dream . . .
Trapped for ever.
There was a snick sound, a shriek, and suddenly she was fully awake and sitting up in bed clutching her blanket in her hands.
For a moment she couldn’t get her bearings. She heard a deep panting sound and eventually realized it was her own breathing. She twisted her head round to look at the door. The shrieking was coming from outside, and she thought she could hear someone shouting. She didn’t recognize the voice, but then she heard David shouting in response. He sounded shocked and surprised, and his voice was a lot higher than normal.
Penny bolted from her bed, threw open the door and ran out on to the landing.
The first thing she saw was David’s white face. He was clutching the handle of a broom so hard that his knuckles were whitening.
‘It’s not a rat,’ he kept saying to her. His jaw was slack, his eyes were wide.
‘What?’ said Penny. She was completely thrown. She had never seen someone look so frightened.
‘It’s not a rat,’ he said again, and his mouth twitched and he gave a little hysterical yelp.
Penny could hear something to her left, and for some reason she didn’t want to turn around and look.
‘What’s not a rat?’ she asked David.
David gave a small queasy smile. He was leaning his head backwards as if trying to escape from some horrid smell. His eyes, which he kept fixed on her, looked glazed as he pointed to the thing to Penny’s left, the thing she was still too afraid to look at.
‘That’s not a rat,’ he said.
Penny turned. For a moment she couldn’t seem to register what she was seeing.
That’s OK, she thought to herself. I’m obviously still dreaming.
There was a mouse in the rat trap. It was caught by its tail, and it was making ‘eek eek’ sounds as it struggled to get itself free.
There was also a small brown furry thing which stood on two legs. It was attempting to pull back the trap mechanism in order to free the mouse. The small brown thing couldn’t have been much more than two feet tall, and it was most definitely not a rat, because as far as Penny knew, rats didn’t go around wearing brown woollen jackets and trousers. Also rats couldn’t speak, whereas this small brown thing was clearly using words.
‘Still, Mouse, stay still and Pog will set you free,’ the brown thing said.
‘It’s talking,’ said David, his voice shaking.
Don’t be stupid, David, it’s not talking, thought Penny. This is only a dream.
Unfortunately, the realization began to dawn on her that she wasn’t in fact dreaming. For starters it was too cold on the landing, her legs were starting to tremble, and when she pinched her forearm it genuinely hurt.
‘What is it?’ David asked.
The small brown thing must have heard David, because it turned around, its eyes flashing with anger. Its lips were pulled back over its needle-sharp teeth, and its furry little jowls wobbled with rage as it snarled: ‘You hurt Mouse!’
Penny took a step back, as did David. The creature turned back to the task at hand, and its shoulders shook as it gave one final effort and it pulled the spring back. The mouse darted into the blackness, ‘eeking’ as it went. The small brown thing let go of the trap and it sprang up in the air. While it was in mid-air the creature batted it out of the way with a paw, and the trap skittered across the landing. The furry creature turned in one fluid movement, pulled a sword from a scabbard strapped to its waist and bent low as if ready to spring.
Despite her shock Penny managed to take in the rest of the creature’s attire. It had a waistcoat, a belt, there was a grappling hook strapped to its back, and it held something else in its other hand.
The stick, thought Penny.
The small brown thing growled as it pointed its sword accusingly at them.
Penny could tell from the way the creature’s head darted from one side to the other that it was as frightened as it was angry. It trembled all over, and it would have been almost cute if it hadn’t been so disconcerting.
The three of them seemed to be at an impasse, each of them too frightened to do anything.
It was David who finally broke the spell as he suddenly raised the broom over his head, emitted a great ‘Raaah!’, and rushed the creature.
What happened next made Penny question again whether she was in fact actually awake. David brought the yard brush down, and it hit the ground where the creature had been. David looked confused for a moment. He blinked. There was a hiss to his and Penny’s right, and they turned to see the creature now balancing on the banister.
It was as if Penny’s eyes had finally caught up with her memory as she remembered a brown blur as the creature had darted out of the way and scaled the banister in less than a second. She had never seen anything move so fast.
David hoisted the brush up again and rushed at the banister.
This time the brush collided with the now-empty banister and rebounded with such force that it bounced back and almost hit him in the head.
The creature was on the wall now. Its paws dug into the plaster and it was snarling at David, its fur standing to attention in rigid spikes as its body trembled.
David rushed it again.
Penny stepped forward and shouted for David to stop. The brush hit the wall, and the bristly head cracked through the old wood and plaster and became wedged there.
The creature leapt on to the floor. It garbled something at them.
David tugged and tugged at the brush, finally wrenching it from the wall. The momentum took him backwards and he fell on to the floor. He was still gripping the handle, and he sat up on his elbows in disbelief.
Both he and Penny watched as the creature took the grappling hook from its back, swung the rope, twirled it until it made a regular swish-swishing sound, and let fly.
The grappling hook flew upwards and caught on the lip of the open attic door. Penny almost admired the flight and form as the rope went from a serpent-like movement to a pleasing tight line as the creature pulled it taut.
They both watched open-mouthed as the creature scaled the rope in less time than it took to blink.
The closing of the attic door almost felt like an insult.
There was nothing they could do. Both Penny and David could only stand there just gawping upwards.
‘What’s going on here?’
They both turned to see their father standing on the landing.
Penny stepped forward. ‘There was a rat, Dad. We were trying to catch it.’
Her father’s eyes went to the hole in the wall, and then to the broom.
‘David tried to hit it, but it was too fast. Isn’t that right, David?’ she said.
She heard David behind her. His response was quiet and still a little stunned. ‘What? Yes. What?’ he said.
Penny turned to glare at him.
He blinked at her as if waking from a bout of hypnosis and looked at their father. ‘Sorry, yes. Sorry, Dad.’
‘Don’t you think you could have informed me first? Especially before you started vandalizing the house?’
‘I don’t think it’s vandalizing if you actually own the house,’ said Penny, immediately regretting her comment when she saw the fury in her father’s eyes.
‘This is unacceptable!’
Both Penny and David were surprised by the vehemence of their father’s reaction.
‘It’s just . . .’ He struggled to find the words, took his glasses off and rubbed the lenses with his dressing gown, then put them back on again. ‘Unacceptable.’
For one panicked moment Penny felt the urge to blurt out the truth.
It was a tiny hairy man, Dad. He lives in the attic. He has a fighting stick and a grappling hook. He’s like the world’s smallest mountain climber.
Her father gestured at the hole in the wall. ‘I mean, we’ve all been through enough without, without . . .’ His rage started to fade, and now he seemed at a loss about what to say. He rallied for a moment.‘Just clean this mess up and get back to bed.’
‘Right,’ said Penny, her lips clamped tightly. Something about what he’d just said had really stung her. We’ve all been through enough. How did a hole in the wall even compare . . . ? She shook herself. ‘Yes, Dad. We will.’
He nodded, then turned away and headed back to his bedroom.
Penny nudged David towards her room. They went in, and Penny thought her brother looked pale and drawn. His breathing was ragged after his exertions with the broom.
‘Are you all right?’
‘’Course I’m all right,’ said David, sounding offended.
You don’t look all right, you look sick and pale, Penny thought, but she kept this to herself.
‘What was that thing?’ she asked.
‘I have no idea,’ said David. ‘It looked like a gerbil. A walking, talking gerbil. It’s not a gerbil though, is it? Unless it’s some kind of mutant gerbil. Some kind of mutant gerbil that was created in a lab. A mutant gerbil with climbing tackle, and really bad fashion sense. And it lives in the attic. Our attic. There’s a talking mutant gerbil living in our attic!’
‘Shut up, David,’ Penny snapped. It was the only way to stop his panicked babbling.
David closed his mouth, tight. Then he opened it again as if about to say something. He raised a finger.
‘No!’ said Penny, glaring at him.
David seemed to reconsider, and eventually he lowered his hand. ‘What are we going to do?’ he asked plaintively.
‘Well, we know it can talk,’ said Penny.
David shook his head slowly. ‘We’re not going to—’
‘We are,’ said Penny.
David shook his head more vigorously.
Penny grinned. She felt cold, but tingly, as if she’d just been shocked into life.
Pog was enraged. He paced back and forth across the attic, casting occasional glances at the door, while keeping his right paw on the hilt of his sword.
He wasn’t really sure he was going to use his sword. In fact, he’d felt his resolve melt as soon as he’d touched it.
Pog sighed and let his hand fall by his side.
Then the rage came again, and he growled and kicked a stray piece of wood across the floor.
‘Stupid Pog. Stupid. Stupidest of all. Pog is supposed to stay hidden,’ he ranted to himself. He could feel a sour thickness in his throat, and even in his rage he knew tears weren’t far away. ‘Stupid,’ he said again huskily, and wiped a paw across his eyes.
He finally dropped to the ground and sat with his back to his den. He lowered his head, and looked at the floorboards. Once again, he’d revealed himself to the tall folk despite the fact that he was supposed to stay hidden.
‘Sorry, Grandfa,’ he sniffled.
The dark closed in around him.
16
Penny and David waited until they were sure their father would be fully asleep again. Then they crept out the back door and to the shed with two torches. The night sky was cloudless, and it was surprisingly chilly. Penny clutched her dressing gown to herself, while David simply walked out in his pyjamas and shoes. The cold didn’t seem to bother him and Penny decided that there was no point in reprimanding him for not wearing a jacket, and risking another ‘You’re not Mum’ comment.
They managed to wrestle the ladder from the shed after much twisting and turning and arguing with each other over who had which end, and who wasn’t turning it in the right direction. Eventually they manoeuvred it out the door. Then came the difficulties involved in trying to get it into the house and up the stairs without thumping it on every step, like they had done the last time. They spent the time hissing at each other in the dark, until finally they got it up on to the landing and had it pointed at the attic door.
‘Ready?’ asked Penny.
‘Ready,’ said David, looking upwards and licking his lips.
They pushed. Penny winced at the dull clump as the ladder hit the attic door. The scraping noise that followed as they used the ladder to shove the door upwards only made her wince all the more. She wasn’t sure whether it was the combination of the excruciating sound, the fact that it might wake her father, or the fact that she half expected something to dive at them from the dark above, which made her feel this way.
She let out a great whoosh of relief when they got the ladder in place.
‘Right then,’ she said.
David looked at her. She looked at him. David raised his arm pathetically towards the ladder.
Penny sighed: ‘Fine, I’ll go first.’
She put her foot on the first rung, and was about to move on up when she heard David whisper behind her.
‘We should bring a stick,’ he said.
Penny turned back to look at him. ‘Why? Because trying to hit it with something worked so well the first time?’
‘No need to be sarcastic,’ he said.
Penny turned back to the ladder. She steeled herself for a moment and, fixing her eyes on a point in the middle distance, she started her ascent. She reckoned it was best not to think about what she was doing. There was no sense in thinking about how insane this all seemed, or how at any moment she might be accosted by a very angry furry ball. She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. She remembered an evening from a few years back when they’d all gone to her school’s art exhibition. Penny had stood waiting as the winners were announced, her heart pounding, terrified that she would be called, terrified that she might trip and fall on the way up to the podium, the panic rising in her.
Then she’d felt the pressure on her shoulders. Her mother’s hands, strong and reassuring. ‘It’ll be fine, Pen. It’ll all be fine,’ she’d whispered. The calm that had settled over her was so soothing she’d felt like she could do anything.
When they’d called her name she’d strode up to collect her prize. Knowing her mother was smiling and applauding her had given her a strength she’d never dreamt she had.
She opened her eyes and climbed up quickly. She reached the top and started to move the door aside with the splayed fingers of her hand. There was that scraping sound, not as bad as nails on a blackboard, but not so low that it wasn’t irritating. She peered into the darkness.
‘Careful,’ said David.
‘I am being careful,’ she hissed back at him.
She pushed the panel aside enough to make room for herself to enter. She tried to switch her torch on, surprised by the fact that she had suddenly lost complete control of her fingers. She flicked it on, almost dropping it in the process.
‘You’re shaking the ladder,’ said David.
Penny rolled her eyes. Then she shone the torch up into the dark maw of the attic, pulling her head back in expectation of an attack.
‘Anything?’ asked David.
‘No,’ she said curtly.
There was only one thing for it. She grabbed the lip of the attic entrance and hoisted herself in. She sat on the edge with her legs dangling downward and scanned the attic quickly with her torch. Nothing moved. She looked down at David.
‘Come on,’ she said.
Without waiting for his reply she pulled her legs in and bounced into a standing position. David raced up the ladder and grunted as he pulled himself into the attic and on to his knees. He dropped his torch and it went rolling across the floor, sending light spinning across the floor and walls and causing a rumbling sound. Penny stepped forward and stood on it to stop it moving any further. She gave David an accusing look.
David just shrugged in response. He grabbed his torch, mumbled a very half-hearted thank you, and dusted himself off as he stood up.
They both shone their torches around the room. There wasn’t any pattern to their probing, and both knew that it was more out of fear and a need to banish the dark than a quest to find something.
‘See anything?’ asked Penny, knowing it was a pointless question, but feeling the need to say something.
‘Nope,’ said David.
By ‘nope’, Penny could tell what he really meant was, ‘Can we go back down now?’
But Penny wasn’t going to be deterred. She walked further into the attic and headed for the far wall. David followed, looking behind him as he went. They checked the walls and ceiling. They checked the floor. They found nothing.
‘He could have gone out through the roof,’ David whispered.
