Flea and Spikey

Flea and Spikey

Flea and Spikey Pieter Koolwijk

illustrations by Linde Faas



For Nora May, and also from your mother

Copyright © 2012, 2015 by Lemniscaat, Rotterdam, The Netherlands First published in The Netherlands under the title Vlo en Stiekel Text copyright © 2012 by Pieter Koolwijk Illustration copyright © 2012 by Linde Faas English translation copyright © 2012 by Lemniscaat USA LLC • New York All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

First published in the United States and Canada in 2015 by Lemniscaat USA LLC • New York Distributed in the United States by Lemniscaat USA LLC • New York Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 13: 978‑1‑935954‑20‑0 (Hardcover) Printing and binding: Worzalla, Stevens Point, WI USA First U.S. edition

1 Fleas make you scratch

Floyd ran down the sidewalk. He had taken the long way and was nearly late for school. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he turned the corner and darted into an alley.

He didn’t notice the figure. Unable to stop, he crashed right into someone. For a moment everything went black and then the ground underfoot seemed to move. Staggering backwards, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground.

“Now, look who we got here,” said Archie with a mean grin on his face to the two boys standing next to him. “Did you take the long way just for us?

I’ve been looking for you.” He threateningly punched his fist into his hand.

Floyd scrambled backwards and leaned against the wall for support on trembling legs.

“Cat got your tongue, Flea?” asked Archie.

“Fleas can’t talk,” said Erik, the skinny boy standing behind Archie. He turned his beady-eyed rat-face to Dennis, the third boy. Dennis laughed so hard that his big belly shook.

5

“Fleas make you itch,” said Archie. He rubbed his knuckles. “My knuckles itch right now.”

As Archie stepped forward, Floyd spun around and sprinted out of the alley. The jeering boys were in hot pursuit. Floyd ran as fast as he could around the corner, jumped over a low garden fence and fled into somebody’s backyard. He hid there. Now he was definitely going to be late for school, but anything was better than falling into Archie’s hands.

6

He didn’t want to be chained by his neck to a lamppost again.

The school bell rang in the distance. Floyd heard the boys shouting and then all became quiet. He counted up to one hundred, then stepped over the low fence and ran to school.

Gasping for air, Floyd knocked on the classroom door.

“Come in,” rang the high-pitched voice of Miss Brownell.

He pushed the door open and cautiously looked around the corner.

The teacher tilted her head backwards and looked at Floyd over her round glasses. Her glasses were too big and were always balanced on the tip of her nose.

“Hello, Floyd. Come in.”

He came inside, closed the door, and stood there.

He could see Archie sitting in the back of the classroom. Archie had to repeat the fourth grade last year. He had been in Floyd’s class since the summer.

“Late again, Floyd. Do you have a reason?” The teacher slid her long braid through her fingers.

Again Floyd glanced nervously at Archie. The boy looked straight at him, shaking his head.

“I overslept.”

“You overslept?” The teacher frowned. “That has been happening to you quite a bit lately. If this 7

doesn’t change, I will have to have a word with your mother.”

Floyd nodded.

“Go to your desk,” instructed Miss Brownell.

Floyd sat down in the front of the classroom. The teacher put him there because he was so small. Floyd didn’t mind–the desk next to him was empty and he was as far away as possible from Archie and his buddies.

“Now–where was I?” asked Miss Brownell, wondering out loud.

Eliza immediately shouted out, “Our new classmate!”

“Yes, that’s right,” the distracted teacher remembered. “Thank you, Eliza. If everyone will remain seated, I will go get her.”

As soon as the door closed, a wad of paper whizzed past Floyd’s ear. The next one bounced off the back of his head and onto the floor.

“I saw that, and I’m gonna tell the teacher,” cried Eliza.

“Who else has fleas?” yelled Erik. He was sitting in the back of the classroom, next to Archie.

Floyd looked over his shoulder and saw that almost all the kids were scratching themselves. He felt his face getting warm and he quickly turned around.

8

“Look, it’s a red flea now!” jeered Archie.

The whole class burst out laughing.

The door opened and suddenly everyone became quiet. Miss Brownell stepped into the classroom. She looked sternly at the class and then motioned for someone to come in.

Totally amazed, Floyd looked at the girl standing in the doorway. He had never seen anyone like that.

9

2 But everyone calls me Spikey

Floyd was small, but the new girl was even smaller.

She was only as tall as a typical three-year-old. Floyd knew she had to be older than that. Toddlers have shorts arms and legs, and, often, a round belly. This girl didn’t. She looked just like the other girls in class except in miniature.

This was not the only curious thing about the new girl. Her red hair stood straight up, as if she had stuck her fingers into an electrical socket. She was wearing a bright green vest, an orange skirt, and green leggings. Her rain boots were the same color as her blindingly bright hair. Floyd couldn’t understand why she was wearing such strange clothes. Her size alone was enough reason to be bullied–he knew all about that. He thought she was just asking for it with her crazy outfit.

The girl looked around the class with a broad grin on her freckled face. Her eyes twinkled. She didn’t seem to be bothered by all the curious faces and gaping mouths. In fact, she rather seemed to enjoy the attention.

10

Spikey

The teacher introduced her. “This is Phoebe.”

The girl looked up at the teacher. “But everyone calls me Spikey,” she added, helpfully.

“Spikey?” the teacher asked in surprise.

The girl nodded eagerly. “My grandma thought that up. Spikey comes from spike.”

11

Archie snorted. “Why didn’t they call you Mini?”

Several kids laughed. Floyd did not. He was relieved that, for a change, he wasn’t the target of harassment. At the same time, he felt sorry for this tiny girl.

Spikey stared at Archie and slowly raised her eyebrows. “Mini, huh? Why Mini?”

“Because you’re so small, of course!” You could tell Archie thought it was a stupid question.

“Small, huh?” She checked herself thoroughly.

First her arms, then her legs and then she looked at Archie again. “Small you say? You should see my dad. He’s this tall.” She held her hand at her waist and gave a mischievous look.

“Then he is, indeed, very small,” said Miss Brownell with a smile.

“He doesn’t think so himself,” said the girl, shrugging her shoulders. “Though people often think he’s a gnome.”

Several kids started laughing.

“A gno–?” The teacher was unable to finish the word. She closed her eyes and softly shook her head.

After a deep sigh, she simply said, “Welcome to school, Phoebe.”

“I prefer to be called Spikey.”

Miss Brownell frowned. “But your name is Phoebe. Why shouldn’t I call you Phoebe?”

12

“Well, right now, when people ask me what my name is, I say: ‘My name is Phoebe, but everyone calls me Spikey.’ Otherwise I will have to say: ‘My name is Phoebe, but everyone calls me Spikey.

Except the teacher. She just calls me Phoebe.’ I think that’s a little weird.” She was quite serious.

Miss Brownell didn’t say a word and continued staring at the girl through her glasses. After a long silence, she said, “All right. Welcome to school, Spikey. You can sit in the front row, next to Floyd.”

She pointed at Floyd and once again he could feel his face get hot.

“Flea has a girlfriend!” yelled Archie. “Now he won’t have to stand on a ladder to kiss a girl.”

A wave of laughter rolled through the classroom.

Floyd wanted to crawl under his desk and pretend he wasn’t there.

Spikey casually walked to the empty desk next to Floyd. She put down her bag and gave Floyd a wink. Then she suddenly turned around and bolted off toward Archie. It was as unexpected as a balloon popping. Grabbing the edge of Archie’s desk, she scrambled onto it. Spikey stood in front of Archie with her hands at her side. Archie recoiled, balancing his chair on just two legs.

“Maybe I should just kiss you!” She made kissing noises and leaned towards Archie.

13

He jerked his head back, making him lean back dangerously. He was lucky Erik grabbed him just in time, otherwise he and his chair would have crashed to the floor. “No kissing in my classroom,� the teacher ordered.

Floyd shook his head. Typical of Miss Brownell.

She never took notice of bullying, she allowed Spikey to stand on someone’s desk, but she took action over a little kissing joke. Spikey looked innocently at the teacher. “I didn’t know that.”

“Don’t worry, Spikey. Just go to your desk and be seated.” The teacher turned around and walked to the big desk in front of the classroom.

Spikey walked up to her new desk. She grabbed her chair, but stopped suddenly and looked back at the teacher. “What about hugging?” she asked.

The teacher closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What do you mean, Spikey?”

“If kissing is not allowed, is it allowed to hug?”

Floyd quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

He didn’t want the teacher to see that he was laughing.

“We don’t ‘do’ kissing and hugging in this classroom.”

Miss Brownell peered at Spikey through her glasses. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to begin the lesson.”

Spikey nodded. She took hold of the chair and put her foot on the crossbeam. Floyd realized he was staring at her and quickly glanced back at the teacher.

Miss Brownell opened a book and cleared her throat.

“Miss!” Spikey’s high voice resounded again. “My bottom is too small!”

Floyd turned his head and burst out laughing.

Spikey was finally seated, but only her head and red hair stuck out above the table.

Miss Brownell took her glasses off her nose and positioned them on top of her head. She looked at Spikey with bulging eyes. “Your bottom is too small? What you do mean?”

“If I had a bigger bottom I could reach above the desk. Now I can’t do anything.”

The teacher sighed. “You mean the desk and the chair are too big for you.”

“No, my mother always told me never to blame others.”

Floyd chuckled. He wondered if the girl was playing games with the teacher.

“I think she meant people. Not tables and chairs.

16

You can blame them,” the teacher said.

“But tables and chairs are put there by people,” Spikey explained. “When I complain about this chair, I am complaining about the person who put this chair here for me.” She added, “That’s not nice.”

The teacher blushed. “Why–yes,” she stammered. “The chair.” She made a note in her notebook. “I will make sure you get a chair that suits you.”

Then the teacher grabbed two thick books from her desk and put them on Spikey’s chair. That was quite an improvement. Now the girl could put her arms on the desk.

Spikey did not attract more attention until recess.

When the bell rang, Floyd looked toward the boys in the back of the classroom. They were laughing about something. It seemed to involve Spikey, since Archie was pointing in her direction.

That did not bode well.

17

3 This is the Foot Dodger

Spikey hung out with Floyd during recess. He didn’t mind. She was nice and made him laugh. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be long before Archie and his buddies started to harass her. Then Floyd knew he would be next. All because he was with her.

On the other side of the schoolyard, Archie and his buddies had pushed a plump boy up against the bicycle shed. It was Reuben from the second grade.

He was always their first victim during recess. His mother always packed the best cookies for him. If she only knew that every day those cookies would end up in Archie’s mouth….

Afterwards, the boys would go prey on other victims. Their targets changed from day to day, but usually Floyd was one of the unfortunates.

“And then there’s the Foot Dodger,” Spikey explained.

Floyd was jolted from daydreaming and looked at the tiny girl. “Foot Dodger?”

Spikey nodded vigorously, making her red 18

spikes jiggle. “It’s both a dance and a survival plan.

My dad taught it to me. Do you want me to show you?”

Actually, Floyd wanted to say “no.” Dancing in the schoolyard? That would attract way too much attention, but the twinkle in her eye made only one answer possible. “Of course.”

Spikey stood on her tiptoes with her hands above her head. She danced like a ballerina trying to avoid invisible snow balls. She ducked, jumped, and rolled over on the ground and then carried on dancing as if nothing had happened. Floyd forgot his worries and burst out laughing. He could just imagine it–a little guy trying to avoid the kick of a boot by dancing around it.

Lots of other kids wanted to have a look and pretty soon a big circle of laughter had formed around Spikey. You could tell that the freckledfaced girl enjoyed the attention. Sometimes she would act as if she was going to crash into somebody and then she would skillfully dodge them at the very last moment.

When there was some commotion at one side of the circle, Floyd noticed Archie and his two friends shoving some kids towards the dancing girl. Floyd would have preferred to walk away, but he stayed instead. Spikey happily danced on. Even when 19

Archie deliberately blocked her way, she gracefully moved around him.

“If I knock you over, it’s your own fault,” warned Archie.

Spikey stopped moving and looked at Archie gratefully. “Good idea! I’ll dance the Foot Dodger and you try to hit me. Then everyone can see how useful these movements are!”

She immediately started moving in pirouettes around him, challenging Archie to do something.

The kids in the circle started laughing. Some even called out Spikey’s name.

Archie glared at the little girl, clenching his fists.

“Stop it!” he yelled in anger. “You’re not funny!”

Spikey stopped and scratched between her red spikes. “But the Foot Dodger isn’t meant to be funny. Survival is a very serious matter for my dad.”

Archie towered high above her. “Stop talking about your itty-bitty dad. You just made that up.”

Spikey’s jaw dropped. “You think so?” Her eyes began to sparkle. “Maybe I made you up as well.”

“What?”

“Well—” Spikey put on a serious face. “If I also made you up, then at least I would have made you less angry.”

The circle of children burst out laughing again.

It was obvious. Spikey had them laughing and Archie had no idea what to do.

“Now I know why you’re so tiny,” said Archie.

“Only babies believe in something as childish as gnomes.”

21

This time only Archie and his two buddies laughed.

“He ain’t no gnome.” Spikey paused for a moment. “He’s my dad.” She held her hands above her head, gave a wink, and started to dance again.

It was a losing battle for Archie. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t make himself heard over the laughter of the children. He spun around, punched Dennis in the arm and worked his way through the other children. As usual, Erik and Dennis followed after him.

Floyd kept a cautious eye on Archie. He thought Spikey was very brave, but he was certain she would regret what she did. Archie was furious.

Staying with Floyd, Spikey looked worried. “Do you think he’s angry with me?”

Floyd nodded while staring at Archie’s back.

“He’s ticked off at everyone, especially if they’re small.”

Spikey turned around and looked at Archie walking away. “Then he’d definitely dislike my dad.”

Floyd frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?”

“About your dad,” Floyd explained. “That he’s a strange little guy.”

“A strange guy?” Spikey giggled. “You’re talking about my dad, you know.”

22

Floyd didn’t know how to reply. He assumed that she had been joking the whole time. Surely a nine-year-old wouldn’t believe such nonsense? Yet, still she persisted with her odd story.

The bell signaled the end of recess. Spikey gave Floyd another wink and ran to the open school doors. He remained standing and stared after the girl.

It was only while Floyd walked down the hallway that he realized that this was the first time in ages that Archie had not bullied him during recess.

Without a doubt, this was probably the best recess of the entire school year.

23

4 Finally, I feel like a real princess

“This is the fourth time this week you’re late.” Miss Brownell stood with her arms folded, shaking her head. The big glasses wobbled on her nose.

“Sorry.” Floyd didn’t know what else to say.

Archie had ambushed him again. He had taken Floyd’s shoes and thrown them up a tree.

The teacher sighed. “I will have to talk to your mother next week. This can’t go on like this. Go take your place now.”

Floyd went to his desk and sat down next to Spikey.

The little girl was still sitting on the thick books.

She looked at him cheerfully. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I was afraid you’d never come.”

It had been three days since she first joined his class. Floyd was still not sure if she intentionally wore those weird clothes, or if she really liked them. Once, she even came to school wearing a pink tutu. When everyone laughed at her, Spikey responded by doing a little happy dance around 24

the classroom. She was odd, but in a nice way.

And, at last, here was someone who was nice to Floyd. Spikey did not join in any of the bullying and

it seemed as if she was happy to see him every day.

Maybe she’d even want to play with him after school.

Miss Brownell continued her English lesson.

Floyd checked Spikey’s textbook to see what page number they were on, and then opened his book to that page. When the teacher asked who would like to come forward, he raised his hand. Usually that was the best way to make her forget he was late.

This time he wasn’t given that chance. The lesson was interrupted by somebody knocking at the door.

The teacher surveyed the class with a frown before opening the door.

It was Mr. Graubner, the janitor. Floyd was a little bit scared of him. He always sounded gruff and surly. According to Sandy, Floyd’s sister, he sounded that way because he was from Germany.

Mr. Graubner was a tall man, with mussed-up hair and a bushy beard. He was pale and walked a little hunched over. His eyes were the most striking.

They always darted about every which way so you never knew where he was looking. Some kids secretly called him Mr. Cross-Eyes. Not Floyd though. He was way too afraid that the janitor would hear him one day—maybe his ears also twitched in all directions.

26

The janitor came into the classroom carrying a small desk, probably from the kindergarten classroom. “Foor Spikey,” was all the man said.

Spikey looked at Floyd with big eyes.

“Foorspikey? Is that me?”

“He means for Spikey,” he whispered back.

“That’s your new desk.”

With a smile on her face she climbed down from her chair and walked towards the janitor. “Thank you, sir! What’s your name?”

“Cross-Eyes,” Floyd heard Archie say from the back of the classroom.

Mr. Graubner’s right eye gave Spikey a friendly look. The other eye looked angrily to where the noise came from. “Graubner,” he told Spikey, while keeping his evil eye fixed on Archie.

“Thank you, Mr. Graubner.”

While the tall man changed the desk next to Floyd, Floyd leaned a little to the other side. The janitor left the classroom and returned carrying a chair.

It wasn’t just any old chair. It was a princess’s chair from the doll’s corner at the Kindergarten.

Floyd recognized it from when he was younger.

The top of the gray-green back was cut into a crown shape. The seat was the same color and the armrests and the legs were burgundy-colored.

27

“What are you doing with that chair?” asked Miss Brownell.

“Also foor Spikey,” the man answered.

“No, no,” the teacher said, standing in front of him. “I want a normal chair. One that fits the desk.”

“Oh, but this chair is perfect for Foorspikey,” the little girl exclaimed. Her entire face was beaming.

Floyd thought that he would really wouldn’t want a princess’s chair. That’s for small children. If he had to sit on that chair, the whole class would tease him.

Mr. Graubner shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the only chair we have.”

The teacher sighed. She looked at the chair and then at the grinning girl and said, “If that’s all there is, just leave it here.”

The janitor did as he was told. He took the other chair and left the classroom.

“Thank you, Mr. Graubner,” the teacher called after him before closing the door. “Take your seat, Spikey. We need to move on.”

“Yeah, go sit in your baby-chair,” Archie said with a sneer.

A bunch of kids laughed. Archie and his two buddies laughed the loudest. Spikey didn’t say a word. She went to the princess chair and stood on the seat. With her chin held high, she slowly 28

surveyed the classroom. Then she bowed deeply, causing everyone to laugh.

“I would like to thank everybody for my new throne,” she said in a regal tone. “Finally, I feel like a real princess.”

Even Miss Brownell was laughing and that didn’t happen very often. “Would the princess be so kind as to sit on her royal bottom now?”

Floyd looked at Archie. The boy had the face of someone whose television just broke in the middle of his favorite show.

Floyd was sitting on the wall surrounding the school yard. While balancing on one leg next to him, Spikey sang a funny song about a fairy ring. A ball rolled across the playground and ended up against Floyd’s legs.

“Hey, Flea! Kick our ball back, would you?” yelled a high-pitched voice. It was Erik, Archie’s skinny friend.

Floyd aimed at Erik, but the ball flew through the air and ended up in the sandbox.

“Stupid stinking flea!” he shouted.

Spikey sat down on the wall next to Floyd. “Why does everyone call you Flea?”

Floyd took a breath and sighed deeply. “Archie made that up because my name is Floyd and, according to him, I’m the size of a flea.”

29

Spikey burst out laughing. “That’s funny.”

Floyd looked at her angrily. “That’s not at all funny! Especially not if they do it all day long.” He jumped off the wall.

“Really? They call me Spikey.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t mind that.”

“That’s not the same,” said Floyd sharply. “You ask people to call you that.”

“Because I don’t mind.” For a moment the girl stared into space. “So it’s your own fault.”

Floyd gasped. The whole class calls him Flea, and she says it’s his own fault! “You just don’t get it!”

He looked the other way.

“Don’t be angry, Floyd,” she said in a soft voice.

“We just think differently about it. That doesn’t mean we have to fight about it.”

Floyd heard Spikey’s feet hit the ground.

Immediately afterward he felt a small hand on his back. She was right. He shouldn’t be angry at her.

He turned around slowly. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right.” Spikey fumbled in the pocket of her purple dress. “Look what I’ve got.” She pulled out a white handkerchief and unfolded it. In the middle was a little bit of dust. “It’s dragon dirt,” she whispered.

Floyd immediately felt better. “It just looks like dried-up dirt.”

30

Spikey shook her head. “I never lie about serious things.”

Looking at her, Floyd was filled with admiration.

She was unimpressed by bullying, but dragons were a serious matter. “Dragon dirt. What’s that?”

Spikey leaned closer to Floyd. “It’s dirt found

under the toe-nails of dragons. My dad sneaks up to a dragon while it’s sleeping and scrapes away the dirt.”

“Why does he do that when it’s asleep?” asked Floyd. “Don’t dragons like having clean toenails?”

“Silly!” Spikey’s eyes sparkled. “Because dragons are steeped in magic, even the dirt under their nails is magical. My dad collects the dirt.”

“Your dad, the little guy,” said Floyd in disbelief.

Spikey looked at him with a broad grin. “Come play over at my place tomorrow. Then you can see him with your own eyes.”

Floyd glowed inside. “I can come this afternoon.

After school.”

“It’s Friday today. That means my dad is not around. Come any time tomorrow.”

Floyd nodded his head. “All day long.” He could barely wait.

5 My dad is not a garden gnome

Floyd sat in the back seat of his mother’s green car.

He was only allowed to play at Spikey’s if she dropped him off herself. Floyd thought this was ridiculous.

Spikey didn’t live far. He could easily walk.

The day before, when Spikey’s mother picked her up from school, the girl had asked if Floyd could come play. And he could. She gave Floyd her mother’s phone number, and Floyd’s mother called the same day. And she also agreed. Wasn’t that enough? Both mothers had talked to each other.

Why should they have to meet? Floyd knew the real answer. His mother was just plain nosy. What would Spikey think of Floyd being dropped off by his mother?

“What kind of people are they?” his mother asked. She looked at him in the rear-view mirror.

Floyd shrugged his shoulders and looked outside the window. “Just … people, I guess.”

His mother had a knack for always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, like that time with the principal, Mr. Wright. Right out of the blue, 34

she said that he shouldn’t be ashamed of his bald head. Many men over sixty had that problem, his mother explained. The principal did not appreciate that. That was understandable since he was only forty-nine.

“Good,” his mother said. “Then I’ll find out myself.”

Floyd could see it now. His mother would loom over Spikey, while telling her that she didn’t mind that her son was going to play with a three-year-old.

The idea made him want to throw up. He sighed.

“Spikey is very small.”

“Smaller than you?” his mother asked.

Floyd stared at his feet. “More like the size of your head.”

“How old is she?”

“Well, she’s as old as me, mom. She’s just very small.”

“Is she sick?”

“No, mom!” yelled Floyd, irritated. “And I don’t want you to say anything about her height. Or her age. Or about any illness she might have.”

His mother looked over her shoulder. “Calm down.” She raised her eyebrows. “I will be on my best behavior when we’re at your girlfriend’s.”

Floyd bit his lower lip. He didn’t believe that for a moment.

35

“Number eighteen—here we are,” sang out his mother. She opened the gate and walked into the front yard.

Floyd silently shuffled behind.

“Look, how cute—a garden gnome!” his mother chuckled. “Look! They’ve given it all sorts of props.”

Floyd checked out the gnome fishing from the side of the pond. Even the stone figure could cause his mother to say something incredibly embarrassing.

His mother rang the doorbell and, shortly afterward, Spikey and her mother came to the door.

As usual, the girl was strangely dressed. She was wearing an orange dress over a pink shirt with red boots. As bright as Spikey’s clothes looked, her mother’s appearance was muted. The lady wore a blue dress that reached all the way to the ground.

The sleeves were full and wide at the wrists, decorated with silver stitching. She smiled politely and swept her half-blond hair from her face.

The mothers shook each other’s hands and exchanged compliments. When his mother reached to shake Spikey’s hand, Floyd held his breath, but all went well. She didn’t say anything stupid. In fact, it was not long before she would go home. Then, just as he felt like nothing could go wrong, she turned around one last time.

36

“Oh, Floyd. If they don’t have a step in the restroom, you’d better just sit down. Remember the mess you make at home sometimes.”

Floyd suddenly got very warm. He couldn’t look Spikey in the eye.

“Don’t worry. We have a step,” he heard Spikey assure her. She grabbed Floyd by his sleeve. “Want to come inside? ” He followed her, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

His mother had done it again.

To say the least, Spikey’s house was designed in a special way. Floyd was glad his mother didn’t come in. She would probably have said something embarrassing. Again. The living room was cozy and chaotic. There were several tables including a normal table, like Floyd had at home, and, on top of that table, another very small table. Floyd saw another small dining table on the floor. He guessed that Spikey probably used this when she was playing with her dolls. The sofas were all the same size, but they were quite different. One was green and covered with colorful patches. The other sofa was brown.

What struck Floyd most was the small ladder that leaned against the brown sofa. The bookshelves 37

against the wall were also unusual because of what was inside them. There were small bookcases filled with miniature bookcases on the bottom shelves that were too small even for Spikey. Floyd’s impression was that the house was furnished for Spikey’s dolls.

That still didn’t explain all the rope ladders and footbridges that he saw everywhere in the living room.

“This is where I live,” said Spikey with a broad grin. “Do you like it?”

“Very unique,” Floyd acknowledged, gaping at the room. Almost all the walls were covered by drawings pinned onto the wallpaper. They were hanging every which way—some even overlapping each other. “Are those your drawings?”

“Yes. Every time I finish one, I hang it up.”

Spikey looked at him with satisfaction.

“Do you hang the drawings yourself?” asked Floyd. “Do your parents allow you to?” At home, he even had to ask permission if he wanted to hang something in his own room.

“My mom doesn’t allow me, she makes me.”

“She makes you?”

“Yes. Mom can’t concentrate well if I keep asking her to hang my drawings all the time. So now I do it myself.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Do you want to see my room?”

40

“Sure, but …” Floyd scratched his ear. “Isn’t your dad home? I’m really curious.” He laughed nervously.

“Haven’t you seen him yet?” She sounded surprised.

Floyd looked around. Was her father here? Did he overlook him?

“Not here.” Spikey grinned. “He’s in the garden fishing. I’m sure you saw him when you got here.”

“You mean the gnome beside the pond?”

Spikey eyes widened. “Gnome? My dad is not a garden gnome. Wait until he hears that!”

Floyd felt his face turn red. He didn’t know how to respond. He had really seen a garden gnome.

Should he play along?

“Come with me!” She ran past him into the hallway and headed to the front door.

Floyd followed her.

41

6 You see with your mind

“Do you want me to open the door?” asked Floyd.

Spikey looked at him as if he’d just said something bizarre. “No need.” She stood on her tip-toes, grabbed the door handle and hung from it.

She pushed against the wall with one foot and the front door opened. Just before running into the garden, she yelled, “You can close it though.”

Floyd closed the door behind him and followed Spikey. She crouched down next to the garden gnome. The statue had the same red hair as Spikey.

“This is my dad!” She looked at Floyd with pride.

“That stone garden gnome?” Floyd couldn’t play along. So many of Spikey’s tales were hilarious, but pretending that a statue was her father was just too weird for Floyd.

Spikey shook her head. “You have to use your eyes to see him.”

“I am using my eyes,” replied Floyd. “How else would I look at him?”

“That’s not true,” the garden gnome grumbled.

“You see with your mind.”

42

Floyd got such a fright that he leapt back in terror.

The statue talked! Floyd blinked and shook his head.

There before him stood a little man who was making a pretty feeble attempt to dress like a garden gnome. On top of his red hair, he wore a shabby and torn pointy cap; his green coat was filthy and bulging (as if he had something hidden in it); and both ends of his dingy, false beard were wrapped around his pointy ears with some rubber bands. The hairy bottom of the beard dangled somewhere far beneath his head.

His rather odd-looking head.

For one thing, its size did not fit with the rest of his body. It was a little bit too big. Or his body was a little too small—depending on how you looked at it. Additionally, his face was all wrong. His mouth was so big it took up the whole lower half of his face, and his pointed nose was so small that you hardly noticed it. Floyd thought his eyes were the most remarkable. They were big and round and drew a lot of attention.

“Are you—are you a dwarf?” asked Floyd in disbelief.

“A dwarf?” The little man scowled at him. “No, smarty-pants. I’m Spikey’s father.”

Floyd’s ears started to glow. He shut up and stared down at the tips of his shoes.

43

“He thought you were a garden statue, Dad,” explained Spikey to her father.

Floyd did not understand what was going on.

When he and his mother walked down the garden path, he had seen a garden gnome—big eyes, no false beard and certainly not moving!

“I had not expected anything else.” The little man focused his attention on his fishing pole and reeled in the line. “That boy doesn’t look with his eyes.” He took a little knob of bread and mashed it around the hook. “Grown-ups only look with their minds. It would appear that so do most children.”

Floyd rubbed his eyes. It didn’t help.

Spikey’s father cast his line into the water again.

He looked at Floyd and shook his head. “You see?” he said. “He doesn’t believe his eyes.”

“Wha … wha … what do you mean by that?” stammered Floyd, unsure of himself.

Raising his eyebrows, Spikey’s father said, “You don’t believe your eyes and still you ask me questions. Isn’t that odd?”

Kneeling, Spikey giggled. Floyd didn’t find it funny at all.

“What don’t you understand about it?” asked her father, this time in a friendlier tone.

Floyd breathed deeply. “What you said about me seeing with my mind.”

44

“Some people have to have everything explained,” grumbled the little man. He reeled in his line and put it away. “Sit down there next to Spikey.”

With trembling hands, Floyd moved toward him and kneeled down. No one would believe him if he told them this. He remembered he didn’t believe Spikey earlier.

The little man cleared his throat. “When you use your eyes to see, you will see everything as it really is. You will see all the colors of the rainbow and you’ll notice the unicorn grazing deep in the woods.

You will see immediately that I’m not a garden statue. But, when you look with your mind, you see the world in your own images. When you saw me standing in the garden, your mind pictured that I was a garden gnome. In that way, everything in your mind’s eye fits in place. It does not sit well in people’s minds when things are out of place.”

“Oh …” Floyd said softly. “I really thought I saw a garden gnome.”

Spikey poked him with her elbow. “Yeah, you thought you did!”

Floyd still didn’t completely get it. “But now I see you fine. How did that happen?”

“Because I said something to you. Apparently it seems that garden gnomes who can talk are more unusual than a father who dresses up like a gnome.”

45

He grabbed his fishing pole again and checked the hook. “That’s why I will never talk to a grown-up.

If they see me running down the street now, they think I’m being pulled by an invisible cord.”

“Great idea, dad!” cried Spikey enthusiastically.

“We can go out for a walk with you tied to a cord!

Nobody will notice.”

“Spikey, I have told you many times, I’m not one of your toys,” grumbled her father. “I will not wear

your doll’s clothes. I will not lie in the baby’s cot.

And I will certainly not have you pull me down the street at the end of a cord.”

Floyd started laughing and Spikey’s father glared at him. Floyd immediately put his hand in front of his mouth and looked the other way, as innocently as possible.

“Yeah, but I think my doll’s clothes will look better on you than that stupid pointy cap,” said Spikey brashly.

Her father’s face turned red. “You know I’m in disguise!”

“Why do you do that anyway?” asked Floyd.

“Because, obviously, I don’t want anyone to know I exist.” The little man shook his head.

Floyd was now even more confused. First off, her father grumbled that nobody looks with their eyes and meanwhile he tries hard not to be seen. “Why not?” asked Floyd.

“Seems logical to me,” growled Spikey’s father.

“Not over my dead body will they cage me and experiment on me!” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“But Spikey tells everyone about her little father.”

“Did you believe me?”asked Spikey.

Floyd shook his head.

“Exactly,” said her father. “Spikey doesn’t need 47

to tell lies. People don’t listen. They have already formed an opinion.”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Floyd.

“If you have a secret you must be able to share it. Thus, Spikey was allowed to find one person with whom to share her secret. And she picked you.”

Floyd felt warm inside. He was very happy that she had invited him home, and he felt immensely special that he was the only one with whom she shared this secret. Sadly, this feeling immediately disappeared when he looked over the fence and into the street.

Archie and his two buddies were walking by.

48

7 Then I will crush your little boyfriend!

Floyd nervously glanced back and forth between Spikey and her father. He felt like sitting in front of the little man, so that Archie wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t panic,” said Spikey’s father. “I’ve come across that big guy many times. He doesn’t see me.

A dragon could poop on that boy’s head and he’d think it was brown snow. I’m more worried that he will smash me to pieces.”

Floyd sighed. He would prefer that Archie didn’t see him. But it was too late for that. Archie prodded one of his buddies and pointed toward the front yard. The predators had found their prey and approached sniggering.

“The love-birds, ” announced Archie. “Flea and Spikey. ” Erik and Dennis started laughing like two trained monkeys.

Spikey’s face lit up as if someone had just given her the best present ever. “Flea and Spikey! That sounds great!” She looked at Floyd. “That’s what 49

we should call ourselves … We’d be just like superheroes then!”

The guys stopped laughing.

Archie frowned. “Superheroes?” he said disdainfully. “And that super gnome you’re playing with—is that your baby?”

Again his two buddies started laughing. “Their baby …!” Dennis chortled, “How do you come up with these things? ” Floyd couldn’t figure out whom he hated more.

Archie was mean, but those slime balls really got on his nerves.

Spikey shook her head. “Of course not. Don’t be silly. This is my dad.”

Floyd looked at her in fright. She gave away the secret!

Archie and his two buddies were quiet for an instant. They looked at each other with bulging eyes and then burst out laughing.

“Her father!” cried Erik. He shrieked with laughter. “This kid is nuts!”

Floyd looked aside to the poorly-disguised little man. Spikey’s father grinned and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, I told you so. “Nobody believes Spikey when she’s telling the truth. ” Archie wiped the tears from his eyes. “And does your father mind that the two of you are in love? If 50

he doesn’t mind, I could tell everyone on Monday that you’re getting married.”

Floyd felt a twitch in his stomach. If Archie did that, everyone would make fun of him even more.

And if his sister found out, he wouldn’t be safe at home either.

Spikey walked towards the garden fence.

Floyd didn’t. He stayed with her father. He hoped Spikey would have a witty response, so that Archie wouldn’t broadcast any of his stories at school, but it never got to that point.

With screeching tires, a black sports car stopped in front of the house. The top was down so the female driver was clearly visible. She had dark wavy hair and her eyes were hidden behind large dark shades. She pushed the shades up and looked their direction. Her mouth smiled.

Her eyes didn’t.

The car door swung open and the woman stepped out. She was wearing tight jeans that ended in a pair of black boots. She had rolled up the sleeves of her blue shirt, so that her bracelets were clearly visible. She tossed her hair back and walked towards Archie. Dennis and Erik took a step back.

The woman stood next to Archie and slowly stroked his head, gliding her fingers through his hair. Archie didn’t say a word. He kept his head 51

lowered and stared at the ground. There wasn’t much left of his bluster.

“Tell me now, are you being nice to Archie? ” the woman asked.

Dennis and Erik turned and fled. The woman ignored them. She glanced back and forth at Floyd and Spikey. Floyd had the feeling that her dark eyes could see right through him.

Spikey shrugged her shoulders. “We’re nice to everyone.”

The woman’s smile reminded him of a toothpaste commercial. Way too plastic. “Oh, good.”

Floyd didn’t say a word.

The woman gave Floyd and Spikey one last penetrating look before she turned around and walked to the car. “Come on, Archie. We’re going.”

“Yes, mom,” said Archie softly.

Spikey climbed onto the garden fence, balancing herself next to Archie. “Is that your mom?”

Archie stood tall. He jerked around to the girl and grabbed her by her pink shirt. “If you ever tell anyone about my mom, I— I— ” “Yes?” asked Spikey innocently.

Archie looked at Floyd. “I will crush your little boyfriend!”

“Archie, come here!” ordered the woman before slipping into the car.

52

Archie pushed Spikey away. She flailed her arms wildly and seemed to be falling from the garden fence, but regained her balance.

Floyd stared after Archie, who ran to the car. He was sure acting quite differently when his mother was around. The whole situation gave Floyd the creeps.

The car sped off with squealing tires and raced down the street.

“Did you see that?” asked Spikey.

Floyd nodded, although he had no idea what she meant.

“I never expected that Archie would be her son,” mumbled Spikey’s father.

Floyd looked at him in surprise. “Do you know her?”

The little man stared off into the distance. “I know who she is and what she is capable of.”

“What is she capable of?” Spikey’s eyes opened wide.

“I’d rather tell you inside,” said her father. He took his fishing pole and walked toward the front door.

53

8 I just hate that name

Floyd sat on the green patchwork sofa and stared at Spikey’s father, who sat in front of him on the coffee table. He had taken off his so-called disguise in the hallway. It actually didn’t make much of a difference, except that he had lost his paunch. In his black clothes—Floyd thought they looked a lot like a ninja outfit—the little man looked trim and athletic. He held a black business card in his hands.

The following white text was printed on it:

“Once, when I was spying on her, this card blew out of her car,” explained Spikey’s father.

“Did it blow out of the car? Or did you take it from the car yourself?” asked Spikey’s mother, who sat on the sofa next to Floyd.

The little man moved his hand like a wave.

“Wind, hon. A very strong, sudden wind.” He grinned at his wife. His mouth was so huge that it seemed to leap out of his face.

“It says voodoo,” noted Floyd. “What is that?”

The little red-headed man looked at him seriously. “It’s from Africa and it’s a religion.

Voodoo involves strange rituals, magic, and sacrifices.”

“Is voodoo dangerous?” asked Spikey. She was sitting on the coffee table next to her father.

Her father shook his head. “Voodoo itself is not.

It depends on the person using it. You can use it to do good, but also to do evil.”

Floyd took the card from the table and read it again. “Echidna. What a strange name.”

“I don’t think that’s her real name,” said Spikey’s father. “More like some sort of stage name.”

With a sigh, Floyd flopped back against the sofa.

“Just my luck. My biggest enemy has a voodoo mama.”

Spikey’s father raised his eyebrows. “Your biggest 55

enemy? He’s not that big. If you’re chased by a hungry troll, then you can say you have a big enemy.”

Floyd shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can talk to us about it,” said Spikey’s mother. She put her hand on his shoulder. “It can be a relief to get it off your chest.”

Sighing deeply, Floyd sank back even further into the sofa. “He waits for me every day before school—” He bit his lip.

“Is that why you’re always late?” asked Spikey.

Floyd felt his eyes stinging. He didn’t want to cry.

“What does he do, Floyd?” asked Spikey’s mother.

“All sorts of things. He beats me up. He kicks me. He takes away my stuff.”

The woman nodded.

“Once with his buddies, he hoisted me up the flagpole. The rope was underneath my arms and cut into my armpits.” Floyd wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Wasn’t there a teacher outside?” asked Spikey’s father. “Surely there is someone keeping an eye out for you?”

“Well, yeah ... Miss Brownell. But she had left her glasses in the classroom.”

“Why don’t you tell the teacher?” suggested Spikey. “Or the principal? Or your mom?”

56

“I did, once. My mom asked me how I got a black eye, and I told her that Archie had punched me. She went to the principal and Archie was put on detention for a whole week. When the week was up, he came looking for me ... when he caught up with me, he took off all my clothes and pushed me into a clump of poison ivy.”

Spikey’s father looked at him with concern. “A shocking story,” he murmured. “A shocking story.”

“But there’s much more,” Floyd added. “He throws water on my pants so that it looks like I peed myself. Squeezes glue down my neck. And sometimes he has pulled my hair so hard that he has had clumps of it in his fingers.” Now that Floyd had started talking, there was no way of stopping him.

It was as if an invisible wall had crumbled and Floyd was able to pour out all the misery and every lousy prank that Archie had ever pulled on him. “And due to him, the whole school now calls me Flea because according to him, I’m as ugly and puny as a flea,” said Floyd, finishing his story.

It all went quiet, except for the ticking of the grandfather clock.

Spikey was the first to open her mouth. “I think that’s horrible, but it could also be partly your own fault, Flea.”

Floyd looked at her furiously. “Don’t call me 57

Flea!”

Spikey’s mother gently squeezed his shoulder.

The anger faded.

“It’s not very tactful for Spikey to say something like that at this moment,” her mother said, “but she does have a point. You know she likes you, don’t

you? She has been talking about you the whole week. Yet you still get very angry when she calls you Flea. Just because of that one word, you forget about your friendship.”

“I just hate that name,” mumbled Floyd. “I don’t want to be called that. By anybody.”

“I will stop calling you that,” promised Spikey.

“Too bad though. I think it’s a great name. If I were you, I would want everybody to call me that.”

“But you’re not Floyd,” her father explained dryly.

Spikey climbed down from the table. “It’s really not that difficult to get rid of Archie. Don’t let him bother you. Let him be.”

“That’s easy enough for you to say,” said Floyd.

“You’re a girl. He doesn’t hit you. His fists are too painful not to be bothered by him.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“But when children laugh at you, you flinch. Don’t let that bother you. Just pretend as if they’ve laughed at a joke you just made.”

Floyd didn’t say a word. He wished he was like Spikey.

“Why don’t you two go play outside for a while?” Spikey’s mother took her hand from Floyd’s shoulder and stroked his hair. “Now it is time for some fun.”

59

Spikey skipped out of the room. “Come on, Floyd!”

Floyd joined her outside and soon forgot all about Archie. Only when on his way home in the back of his mother’s car did he think about the bully.

And his voodoo mama.

60

9 I have back-tingles

Floyd gave his mother a kiss and walked out of the front door. It was Monday morning and he really didn’t feel like going to school on his own. He asked Sandy if he could join her, but she had to pick up a couple of her friends first. Of course she didn’t want to arrive dragging her little brother along. As usual, his mother agreed with Sandy. Girls her age need space. This did not surprise Floyd. His mother always chose Sandy’s side. Only his father stood up for him sometimes. Unfortunately, he was never there. He left for work before Floyd woke up, and he got home after Floyd went to bed. His father even worked on weekends. He spent the entire day behind his laptop, or had a cell phone stuck to the side of his head.

Floyd peeked around the corner of a fence, but there was no sight of Archie. He did see three other kids from school. With them around, Archie might not dare do anything. Floyd race-walked down the street. Running would be too obvious.

If he did that, he was afraid that they would start 61

to wonder why he was running toward them. The kids turned left at the end of the block. Floyd quickly raced up behind them. He slowed down at the last house and then turned the corner toward the kids.

“Good morning, Flea,” said Archie. He was leaning with his shoulder against the wall. His two buddies were standing next to him.

It was as if an electric shock had flashed through Floyd’s body. He couldn’t move. “Leave … leave me alone.”

Archie stepped away from the wall and firmly grabbed Floyd’s upper arm. Dennis and Erik stood behind, sniggering.

Floyd felt hot. His legs were ready to spring, but he was unable to. Archie squeezed his arm so hard it started tingling. “Stop it—” Archie raised his eyebrows. “Stop it? Why should I?” He gave a nasty grin.

Floyd remembered how Spikey said that he shouldn’t be bothered. How he should ignore Archie—but how could he ignore his strong grip around his arm? Without saying anything, Floyd tried to tear himself loose. Archie struck him immediately. A paralyzing pain shot through Floyd’s shoulder when Archie’s fist struck. Archie let him go and Floyd fell to the ground.

62

“Pick him up and hold him,” commanded Archie.

Floyd was picked up from the ground and his arms were roughly twisted behind his back. His shoulders were burning with pain, and he cried out, but stopped when Archie’s fist hit his stomach. The air was beaten out of his lungs. He collapsed and the boys let him drop. He squirmed on the ground, gasping for air.

“One more time! Yank him up,” yelled Archie.

“Stop!” said Floyd, gasping for air. “Stop.” He could feel Archie’s henchmen propping him up again.

Archie laughed. “Why should I stop?”

Suddenly Floyd found himself thinking clearly.

He knew how to make Archie stop. “Otherwise I’ll tell everyone about your mom.”

“What?” roared Archie. Once again the fist thudded against Floyd’s belly. Everything went black and Floyd felt like he was going to barf.

“One—just one more blow,” he groaned, “and I tell everyone.”

“You tell anyone,” bellowed Archie, “and I will beat your face so blue that people will think you’re a Smurf.”

Floyd tried to swallow the puke in his mouth.

“So if I don’t tell anyone ... you’ll leave me alone?” he said quietly.

63

“No, of course not!” shouted Archie.

“Then I might as well tell the whole world. You will bully me anyway.”

Archie stared at him as if he just said something in a foreign language.

This encouraged Floyd a little. He seemed to have put the bully in some doubt. “You said it yourself.

Whatever I do, you’ll make my life a nightmare anyway.” He looked straight at Archie.

“So go ahead, beat me up and throw my stuff into the gutter, and then I’ll tell everyone about your voodoo mama.”

Archie’s face blushed red. “Voodoo mama?

Who told you that?”

“Nobody. It just says so on a little black card.”

Archie clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. “You—you—filthy flea!” he roared. “I’ll let you go this time but I’m not finished with you!”

Floyd said nothing. He yanked himself free from Dennis and Erik, avoided Archie, and walked off as calmly as possible. That wasn’t easy. There were many different emotions raging inside him.

On one hand, he was on guard for any attack from behind. And on the other hand, he wanted to saunter away down the street. He had caused Archie to stop!

64

For the first time in weeks, Floyd was on time for school.

Over the next few days, Floyd noticed a huge change. He was able to walk to school without having to look over his shoulder all the time. Even though he didn’t have to, he still checked. He expected trouble around every corner and he thought he saw a voodoo mama in every sports car.

During recess, he kept a constant eye on Archie, but it all turned out to be unnecessary. The only thing Archie did to him was to continue to call him Flea. It was still annoying, but a huge improvement compared to a week earlier.

Besides, Floyd finally had someone to play with, someone who liked him, who was also truthful.

For example, Spikey did not agree that threatening Archie with telling everyone about his mother was the right way to deal with him. She said the whole situation was giving her back-tingles. Floyd never had back-tingles, but according to Spikey, it meant that something bad was going to happen. Once, her father was locked up in a shed for three days and the night before his disappearance, she had really intense back-tingles.

“What could happen?” asked Floyd when Spikey started talking about her back-tingles again.

65

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “If only I knew, then they would come in handy. Now, it’s just annoying.”

“Maybe Archie’s mom could use magic to make 66

it go away?” suggested Floyd. He faked a laugh. The thought of the voodoo mama churned his stomach.

Spikey glared at him. “You should never have told Archie.”

“I’m sorry,” said Floyd. He didn’t really mean it though. He felt great now that Archie left him alone. “I can’t turn the clock back. What happened, happened.”

“That’s true, but I still think that sooner or later I will be able to say, I told you so.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Floyd.

Spikey nodded. “For sure. I have had backtingles for two days now. It’s never lasted that long before.”

Floyd hoped she was wrong. He decided to enjoy the lull as long as it lasted. He was still annoyed that everyone still called him Flea, but apart from that, the past three days had been bully-free.

Floyd walked to school in good spirits on Thursday morning. It was a beautiful spring day and the last patches of fog were slowly disappearing from the street. He was looking forward to the weekend.

Spikey had asked him to come over again. Now the only thing that he had to do was keep his mother from dropping him off. Luckily, he still had two days to come up with a plan.

67

“Hey, Flea!” he heard as he approached an alley.

Floyd turned his head towards the sound, and his heart skipped a beat. There in the fog, he saw Archie. He grabbed Floyd by his jacket and dragged him into the alley.

“Archie!” yelled Floyd, choking with fear.

“Archie, what are you doing?”

Archie didn’t answer. He threw Floyd on the ground and sat on his chest. Floyd thrashed, kicked and tried everything to get free, but Archie ignored his squirming. He rummaged about in his pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors.

Floyd stopped moving and stared at Archie in horror, not knowing what he was planning to do with those scissors.

“It’s your own fault,” Archie mumbled.

“Don’t,” Floyd pleaded. “Don’t!” Even though he didn’t know what Archie was up to, he was certain it was no good.

Archie cut off a piece of Floyd’s hair and carefully put it into a little plastic bag. “You’ve dragged my mom into this. Now I’m doing the same.”

“What do you mean?” asked Floyd, dazed. “Why are you cutting my hair?”

Archie took hold of Floyd’s left index finger. He grabbed it tightly with his fist and placed the scissors on top.

68

“No!” screamed Floyd. “Not my finger!”

He heard the sound of the scissors and then felt a tug. Archie let go. Floyd pulled his hand back and checked his finger. No pain. No blood. The only thing missing was a small piece of his nail.

“That’s all I need,” said Archie. He got up and put the nail-clipping in the same bag as the hair. He stuffed it into his jean pocket. “You will soon do everything that I want.” He spat on Floyd’s pants, turned around and walked out of the alley.

69

10

He stole pieces of Floyd

“I told you so,” whispered Spikey. “I knew something horrible was going to happen.”

“Is it really that bad?” Floyd asked himself out loud.

Miss Brownell turned around, her hands on her hips. “Floyd, do you have anything you want to share with us?”

Floyd felt his face getting hot. “Sorry, Miss,” he said timidly. He glanced over his shoulder at Archie.

After the events this morning, Floyd was expecting him to start making remarks in class again. But Archie didn’t say a word. He just stared at Floyd.

Floyd leaned towards Spikey. “Do you really think Archie will do something terrible?” he asked as quietly as possible.

Spikey nodded. “He’s already done something terrible, but I’m afraid it will only get worse.”

“He only took a lock of hair and a nailclipping.” Floyd shrugged his shoulders. “That doesn’t seem bad at all. ” “Not that bad? He’s stolen pieces of Floyd! I think that’s pretty bad. Do you know what he will 70

do with them? Don’t you realize they’re for his voodoo mama?”

Floyd felt dizzy and a little bit nauseous. Voodoo was all about rituals and sacrifices, as Spikey’s father had explained. Did it also involve nail-clippings?

“What should I do?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Spikey stared straight ahead.

“We must tell my dad.” She raised her arm. “Miss, may I please use the restroom? ” Miss Brownell turned around, peered through her thick glasses and gave Spikey permission. The girl moved her princess chair back, jumped off, and walked out of the classroom. Floyd was wondering if she really had to go to the restroom or if she was going to meet her father somewhere. Maybe he always hung around the school?

It was not too long before she was back at her desk, listening to the teacher.

“And?” asked Floyd, realizing that Spikey was not going to say anything by herself.

Spikey looked at him in surprise. “What?”

“What did your dad say?”

She frowned. “I didn’t talk to him.”

Now it was Floyd’s turn to look surprised. “What were you doing then?”

Spikey chuckled. “I went to the restroom. What else?”

71

“Never mind.” He suddenly realized what a dumb idea it was.

Spikey leaned over her notebook again. “I asked my dad to come to the playground during recess.”

“But how?”

Spikey winked at him. “It is not polite to ask a lady what she was up to in the powder-room.”

Floyd sat up straight again and shook his head.

Until recess, he unsuccessfully tried to follow along with the math lesson, but the whole time he kept thinking of the voodoo mama.

Floyd and Spikey sat at their usual spot on the wall.

Spikey’s father hid in the bushes behind the wall.

His disguise was terrible, and Floyd just hoped that no one would approach too closely. This was an odd place for a garden gnome.

After Floyd told the story, Spikey’s father stared ahead. “This sounds really bad,” he repeated a couple of times.

“What can we do, dad?” asked Spikey.

Her father did not react. He looked at Floyd.

“When this happened, did he say anything?”

Floyd thought for a moment. It all went so fast.

“He said it was my own fault that I dragged his mom into this.”

Spikey frowned. “The lock of hair and nailclipping were for her, don’t you think?”

72

“It seems like it,” replied her father. “Did he say anything else, Floyd?”

Floyd scratched his neck. “I don’t think so.” Archie wasn’t that talkative. Floyd did remember that glob of spit on his pants. “Oh, yeah—that soon I will do everything he wants.”

“I was afraid of that.” The little man removed his pointy cap and ran his hand through his red hair. “I think Archie is going to play with a doll.”

Sometimes Spikey and her family got on Floyd’s nerves. This was why. It all pointed to the fact that Spikey’s father was worried, and then he had to come up with this explanation. Why couldn’t he just say what was going on?

“Since when are you afraid of dolls?” laughed Spikey. “I thought the only thing you hated were my doll’s dresses?”

“I’m talking about a voodoo doll.” Her father sounded serious. “And that’s not something to joke about.”

Floyd looked at Spikey. She shrugged her shoulders and looked questioningly at her father.

“What is a voodoo doll? Is it a doll that Archie’s mom plays with?” asked Floyd.

“Something like that,” replied Spikey’s father. “A voodoo mama can make a doll to take total control over someone. Using magic from the deepest caverns 73

of darkness, she extracts a part of the victim’s soul and then she merges that with the voodoo doll.”

Spikey whistled softly. “That is why she needs those bits from Floyd.”

Suddenly Floyd felt cold. He felt the schoolyard surging up and down like a wild ocean, and he felt a nauseous feeling in the back of his throat. “What— what do you mean by total control?

“I’m not sure, but—” Spikey’s father looked at him with sympathy. “I once heard that you can inflict pain on someone by piercing a voodoo doll with a needle.”

Now Floyd was really sick. He shivered and felt like throwing up. Compared to this, bullying was nothing. If this was real, it would be terrible.

“What are we doing about this, dad?” Spikey bounced excitedly up and down on the wall. “Will you send us on a secret mission?”

Her father picked a piece of skin from his lips.

He studied the piece of skin, mumbling as if it held the answer. “Does Archie go home during the lunch break?” he asked without looking up.

“No,” replied Floyd. “He always stays at school.”

“Good.” Spikey’s father kept his eyes on the piece of skin. “Then you will have more time.”

Spikey’s face was beaming. “More time to do what? What do you want us to do?”

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Her father looked up. “After school, I’ll be in those bushes.” He pointed toward the bushes in a corner of the schoolyard. “Make sure you have a nail-clipping and a lock of hair from Archie.”

“Then what?” asked Spikey eagerly.

“I’ll tell you after school. First make sure you get everything.”

Spikey nodded. “We’ll do what we can! Right, Floyd?”

Floyd said nothing and stared into space. Was this the trouble that caused Spikey to have back-tingles?

A voodoo mama with a doll used to hurt him? Why was this happening to him? He dropped to the ground and looked up at Spikey. She was all energy, bouncing up and down on the wall.

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11

That nail-clipping will taste delicious

Floyd felt a pain in his stomach. Not the kind of hurt that would have you sent home, but just a constant nagging pain. But going home was no solution. The only solution would be Archie. Or, as bizarre as it sounded, to get a nail-clipping and a lock of Archie’s hair.

The afternoon class had just begun. Just two more hours and then Archie would be going home.

Floyd had no idea how to get the bits from Archie.

All he could come up with was to sneak up behind the bully, clip off a piece of hair and then run out of the classroom. It was not such a good plan because he would still not have a nail-clipping, and Miss Brownell would certainly put him in detention. Maybe he would have to do some chores for Mr. Graubner. In any event, he didn’t even have a pair of scissors.

Spikey wasn’t much help. Every time he wanted to say something to her, she shushed him.

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Then she would chew on her pencil while staring at the teacher.

“Put your books away and move your desks,” instructed Miss Brownell. “We’re doing art for the rest of the afternoon.”

The class responded with enthusiasm. Everyone likes art. You could sit in groups and talk to each other. The teacher always allowed art when she was busy. Often, she would leave the classroom for long periods and everyone could do what they wanted, just as long as your work was done by the end of the hour.

All the children moved their desks. Floyd, Spikey, and Eliza put their desks together. Floyd didn’t like working with Eliza. Even when he accidentally knocked over some glue, she’d still tell the teacher.

“Have you thought out a plan?” he quietly asked Spikey.

Eliza, who was unwrapping her clay, looked at them curiously.

Spikey leaned toward Floyd. “While the whole class is looking at me, you cut off a lock of his hair.”

“You’re not supposed to whisper in public!” whined Eliza.

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Trying to ignore her, Floyd looked at Spikey.

“What will you do? ” “I can’t say,” she chuckled. Lifting her nose in the air, she looked at him smugly. “Otherwise you won’t let me.” Then she stuck out her tongue at him.

He wanted to know what she was up to, but he knew she’d never tell. Anyway, he had no plan of his own. “At least tell me when.”

Spikey gave him a smile. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Floyd didn’t answer. She was right. If she wanted to do anything, it had to be when the teacher was not there. He went off to get colored cardboard and a pair of scissors.

Floyd felt that the teacher was staying longer than normal in the classroom. It was as if she sensed something was up. For the longest time, it seemed that Miss Brownell would not leave the arts lesson for the first time ever, but finally she uttered those familiar words, “I’ll be back shortly.” Then she closed the classroom door behind her.

Spikey nudged Floyd. “Grab your scissors.” She jumped from her chair and ran to the row of desks where Archie was.

Floyd didn’t know what to do. Should he stay where he was or follow after her? Would it be too obvious if he approached Archie? When he saw 78

Spikey climb up on the boy’s desk, he got up and moved a little closer.

“Archie, my dear. Whatever have you done?” asked Spikey, dramatically.

Archie shrunk back, his neck turning red. “I …

I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” replied Spikey, a little startled.

“I’ve heard about people not being able to remember things. I really feel for you, Archie.” She looked at him in sympathy and then put her famous grin on. “However, this is your lucky day. Let me help you remember. This morning you stole pieces from Floyd!”

Most of the children had stood up and formed a wide circle around Archie’s block of desks.

Everyone, except Eliza. She was nervously hopping up and down by the classroom door.

Archie looked uneasily around him. “I haven’t stolen anything from Floyd.”

“Yes, you did,” smiled the little girl. “And to make up for it, you will eat a bit of Spikey.”

“I’m not gonna eat anything of you!” said Archie, furiously.

“Then let’s make it an honest contest. I heard you are very strong?” She showed off her muscles.

“How about a game of pushups? The loser has to eat the winner’s toenail-clipping.”

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The kids in class showed clearly what they thought about that. Some clapped, some cheered, but most of them made a noise as if they had a plate of rotten Brussels sprouts put in front of them.

“I’m not taking part in a stupid contest of yours!” shouted Archie.

“You’re not? Are you afraid you might lose to a girl? I can understand that. It would be pretty awkward if the strong Archie lost to the puny Spikey.” She kissed her biceps.

A couple of kids began to cheer and one imitated a spooked chicken.

Archie kicked his chair back and stood up.

“Whatever! I’m going to win anyway!”

There was enough room for the push-up contest at the window. Archie and Spikey walked to the back of the classroom, followed by the enthusiastic spectators. Except Eliza of course.

“You go first.” Archie shook his arms to loosen up. “I can do this for hours. Then it’ll take too long.”

“I don’t get tired quickly either,” replied Spikey. “We’ll do it at the same time and the class can count.”

Archie protested, but eventually he agreed. He kneeled in front of Spikey and put his hands on 80

the floor. After Dennis completed the countdown, they started. The whole class counted and set the rhythm. The first ten pushups were easy for both of them. The next ten caused no problems, but then Archie’s head began to redden. His arms trembled and he lagged behind Spikey. The girl continued effortlessly. It seemed that she could keep up for the rest of the day.

Floyd wondered whether she planned to lose or not. It was as if she really wanted Archie to eat her nail-clipping. Normally Floyd would have thought this was quite funny. Not now.

“Ouch,” yelped Spikey suddenly and then she fell to the floor.

This seemed to give Archie new energy. He increased the pace. Floyd put the scissors away in his pocket and kneeled down next to the little girl.

She sat up, wincing, and held her left shoulder.

“I can’t go on. My shoulder is hurting me too much. Last week, I helped scatter dragon dirt, and my mom said I strained a muscle.”

Archie sat up on his knees and pumped his fists in triumph. Dennis and Erik clapped. A couple of kids cheered, but the others turned their backs on Archie and huddled around Spikey.

“I haven’t washed my feet for a week,” said Archie. “That toenail-clipping will taste delicious.”

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“That’s not fair!” yelled one of the children.

“She’s in pain.”

“No,” sighed Spikey. “I’ve lost the contest. I have to eat his stinky nail-clipping.”

Floyd wanted to help Spikey get up. She glared at him and with her head, she gestured for him to stand back. Suddenly Floyd understood why. When Spikey ate the nail-clipping, all attention would be

on her. Nobody would want to miss this, no matter how gross they thought it was.

He squeezed in between his classmates and stood next to Archie. The big guy had already taken off his shoe and sock, and proudly exposed his toes. His big toenail was huge. Floyd thought he saw green fumes coming off the nail, but that could have been his imagination.

Archie took a pair of scissors and tried to clip off a bit of the nail. That didn’t work straight away.

Only when he squeezed the scissors shut with both hands did a piece of his toenail flick off. The clipping flew through the air and landed on the floor in front of a couple of girls. They shrank away from it, as if it was too dangerous to get too close.

“There’s your snack, Spikey,” said Dennis, laughing.

Spikey stood up and walked to the clipping.

“This is the moment,” she solemnly announced.

Floyd knew what she meant. Step by step, he edged closer to his target. Everyone stared at the girl with the toenail-clipping. Most of them watched with fascinated horror. Erik seemed to have been looking forward to this for years.

Floyd couldn’t see Archie’s face—only the back of his head. Spikey picked up the clipping from the floor and held it up for everyone to see.

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“Enjoy!” she said as she popped the clipping into her mouth.

The whole class groaned in disgust, including Floyd. A chill ran down his spine as he thought of Spikey with Archie’s toenail clipping in her mouth.

He stepped a little closer, taking the scissors from his pocket and, with trembling hands, snipped off a lock of Archie’s hair.

Archie sprung around with a jerk. “Hey, what are you up to, Flea!” he yelled in anger while feeling the back of his head.

In that instant, the attention shifted from Spikey to Floyd. Nobody paid any attention to the little girl any more.

“If—, if—, if Spikey can’t take revenge, I will!” Floyd felt his face get red. He took a couple of careful steps backwards and quickly tucked the lock of hair into his pocket.

Archie lunged for him and grabbed him by his sweater.

“What’s going on here?” It was the sound of Miss Brownell’s voice.

The teacher stood by the door next to Eliza (who was beaming with satisfaction). The children scattered. They ran to their desks and picked up their work as if nothing had happened.

“Archie, when the bell rings, you will come and explain what you were doing to Floyd,” ordered the teacher.

“But, Miss!” protested Archie. “Floyd cut—” “You can tell me after the bell,” interrupted Miss Brownell. She took her seat and studied the children through her large glasses.

Floyd felt as if she was watching him more closely. Only toward the end of the hour was he 85

brave enough to put his hand into his pocket. He was relieved when he felt Archie’s lock of hair.

“Do you have the nail-clipping?” whispered Floyd.

Spikey nodded.

“Where is it?” Floyd hoped she would check to see if she really did have it.

She patted her pocket. “Good that you distracted everyone so that I could take it out of my mouth.” She smiled. “We’re a good team. We can do this!”

Floyd was still not so sure of that. Archie still had bits of him.

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12

Do we really have to go inside?

“We’re going into Archie’s house?” asked Floyd in disbelief.

Spikey’s father nodded. “That is where we are going to swap the nail-clipping and lock of hair.”

Just the idea made Floyd nervous. “But that’s where the voodoo mama lives.”

He was kneeling in the bushes. A little further ahead, Spikey was lying under the bushes so that she could keep an eye on the school entrance. Her father was hanging upside down from a tree just in front of Floyd. His false beard had fallen onto the ground.

“I see no other way,” said Spikey’s father.

Floyd tried hard to think. That house was the last place on earth that he would want to go to. He had to come up with something else. “There are three of us. Archie is all alone. Couldn’t we take the stuff from him while he was walking home?”

“That won’t work, Floyd,” replied Spikey’s father. He pulled himself up from the branch and then, like an accomplished gymnast, he threw his legs in the air and ended up doing a handstand.

“Then Archie will know he has lost your hair and nail-clipping. Don’t you think he’ll be cutting and clipping at you all over again? ” Floyd figured that was something to worry about later. He didn’t want to think that far ahead. He had to enter that house soon. It seemed as if Spikey’s father had forgotten that the voodoo mama also lived there.

“We should have swapped those bits at school,” grumbled Floyd.

“I considered that idea.” Spikey’s father dropped from the branch and landed on his feet. “But the risk of failure or him noticing was too great. We would have then lost Archie’s bits and everything would have been for nothing.” He picked up his beard from the ground and hung it back around his pointed ears.

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“And what if he didn’t head home?” Floyd was still hoping for a way out.

Spikey’s father shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see.

That’s why we’re here watching him. Although I think he will go straight to his mother.”

“The cutter is outside,” whispered Spikey mysteriously.

Floyd turned towards her. “The cutter? Who’s that?”

She looked at him as if he had asked something stupid. “Archie.”

“Is that his new nickname?”

Spikey sighed, shaking her head. “We are on a super-secret mission. That’s why I’m talking in code. What if we’re overheard?”

Floyd surveyed the greenery around her. There was little chance that the bushes had ears and were listening in on them. On the other hand, with Spikey everything seemed possible.

“The cutter has left the schoolyard,” the girl said.

“It’s time to start the car.”

Floyd blinked. “Can you drive?” he asked her father.

Spikey’s father shook his head. “Code, Floyd.

Code language. We are the car and we must leave now.”

“Oh, all right,” mumbled Floyd. As he cautiously 89

stood up, he looked at the little man’s body and short legs. A car would have been more convenient.

How was Spikey’s father ever supposed to keep up with them? “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked.

The little man looked up, his eyes glaring. “If I were made to be carried, I would have had a handle on my back!”

Floyd stared at him, startled. He was only trying to help.

“The cutter has turned the corner!” announced Spikey. She jumped up and sprinted out of the bushes.

Suddenly, her father took off. He darted through the bushes, following his daughter’s trail. Floyd could barely keep up. By the time he was out of the bushes, they were already nearing the end of the street.

“The higher the head, the slower the legs,” said Spikey’s father when Floyd eventually arrived, gasping for air. “And you thought you had to carry me.”

Floyd sat down on the sidewalk with his back against a fence. He ignored the remark and caught his breath. Spikey kept an eye on the cutter before he turned the corner again. With a twinkle in her eye, she cried out that they had to re-start the car again and again. Floyd had a hard time keeping up 90

with them. They kept repeating this, over and over—running down the street in pursuit of Archie.

Eventually, they hid behind a parked car near Archie’s house.

Spikey peered around the car. “I expected it to look more unique than that. Maybe it’s different inside,” she said, imagining.

Her father came toward her and looked down the street. “You can see it if you look really carefully.”

“I don’t see anything, dad.” She sounded a little bit disappointed. “What do you see?”

“Something sad,” he murmured.

Floyd had seen Archie’s house once before. It was a perfectly normal house in one of the wealthier parts of town. Floyd didn’t remember anything sad.

He sighed and started to move. He carefully peered over the hood of the car, looking toward the house of the voodoo mama.

It still looked like any ordinary house. One of those houses that you wouldn’t notice when passing by. Well, okay, it was slightly larger than the other houses, and in a little better shape, but other than that, nothing special. Still, Floyd felt a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something odd about this house. Or did it seem that way because Archie lived here and Floyd knew what they had to do inside?

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“And?” whispered Spikey, coming up alongside of him. “What do you think?”

Floyd shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno—it’s just a house.” He kept his eyes on the house. The lawn in the yard was well-maintained and the trees were full of leaves.

And black birds.

Floyd hadn’t noticed that until now. In amongst the green foliage of the trees, a great flock of birds were roosting. Floyd thought they were starlings.

Then it dawned on him what was missing.

So many birds and yet you could hear a pin drop.

Floyd knew that starlings make a huge racket— enough to drive him nuts.

“Those birds are real quiet, don’t you think?” he asked.

Spikey nodded. “Are you also looking forward to taking a look inside?” she asked.

Floyd looked at her uncomfortably. “Do we really have to go inside?”

Spikey nodded more vigorously now. “I can’t wait! ”

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13

Go for it!

“You stay outside,” said Spikey’s father. “It’s far too dangerous inside. I’ll go on alone. Archie will mistake me for a garden gnome anyway. You two stand guard.”

Floyd sat on the ground, leaning against one of the tires of the car. He was relieved that he didn’t have to go in himself.

“But, dad,” pleaded Spikey, “I want to go inside too.”

Her father shook his head. “We must be as discreet as possible. It may be more exciting going in together, but I’m afraid that it may then become an impossible mission.”

Spikey pouted. “You know I can be very quiet, and Floyd can stand guard by himself. Right, Floyd?”

Spikey’s father replied before Floyd could say anything. “Not going to happen. Before we know it, he will also want to go inside and then nobody will be standing guard. I don’t want to have two bickering kids in the voodoo mama’s hallway.”

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Floyd couldn’t figure out his thought process but he still kept quiet. He’d rather stand guard with Spikey than by himself.

“The cutter has arrived at his destination,” whispered Spikey.

Her father rubbed his hands together. “Come on, Floyd. It’s time for the big swap trick.”

Floyd stood up. His legs trembled and felt weak.

He took a deep breath and followed after the others.

Along the way to the house he thought of something strange. He had always been teased about his size, but here he was the tallest. He really envied Spikey’s father. Nobody noticed him, and he could hide anywhere. At the garden fence, he could squeeze through the bars, but Floyd and Spikey had to climb over.

Floyd pulled his coat up over his chin and sneaked in behind the others until they reached the back of the house.

“They have a cat flap,” said Spikey’s father.

“Wait for me under the window.” He ran toward the back door. In a few seconds, the noise of the cat flap was the only sign that someone was inside.

Spikey signaled Floyd to follow her. They crept through the back garden together. Under the window, a few yards from the back door, there was a large shrub which they could use as cover. The 94

window was open and Floyd got cold.

“Don’t you feel cold here?” he whispered.

“A little,” replied Spikey, “but I don’t mind.”

A wild scream broke the silence.

“That’s Archie!” whispered Floyd. His heart pounded wildly and his stomach churned.

The cat flap rattled open and Spikey’s father came tumbling out. He picked himself up, dusted off his clothes and grinned at Floyd and Spikey. “He can see me!” He threw a small leather bag at Floyd.

“Here. It’s in the kitchen.”

Once again, Archie shouted something garbled.

It came from right beyond the door. Spikey’s father grabbed his pointy cap, ran to the corner of the house and stayed there. The back door was pushed open and slammed against the wall.

“No, leave me alone!” cried Spikey’s father. “I’ll never get away with these short legs of mine.” Flashing a grin, he disappeared around the corner of the house.

Like a ponderous dinosaur, Archie galumphed along the garden path pursuing Spikey’s father.

“How can Archie see him?” asked Floyd in a trembling voice.

“I don’t know. I have no idea what happened inside.” Spikey chuckled. “With my dad, you never know.”

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Floyd couldn’t figure out why she reacted so lightheartedly to this. When Archie would find out that her father was a strange-looking, red-haired little man, it could only lead to trouble. He looked at the small leather bag in his hand. “One of us must go inside.”

Spikey nodded. “You’re right. Go for it! I will go see if my dad needs help.” She turned around and ran off.

Suddenly Floyd panicked. He didn’t want to go inside, especially by himself! The door opened again, and Floyd darted back behind the shrub. Holding his breath, he peered toward the door.

There she was.

The voodoo mama.

She looked very different in her black dress. Her face was painted with colored stripes and she was wearing a wooden necklace. She looked around and then stepped outside.

“Archie?” Because of her long dress, Floyd couldn’t see her feet, so that as she moved over the garden path, it appeared as if she glided over the paving stones. He shuddered.

When the voodoo mama had disappeared from view, Floyd looked toward the open door.

He knew one thing.

He would never get a better chance today.

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14

I can hear the pounding heart of a child

Floyd tried to swallow his nerves, but his mouth was too dry. He took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the back door. Before stepping over the threshold, he looked to see if the voodoo mama was on her way back. He stepped inside when he was sure she was not in sight.

He had never felt so small as he did in this hallway. Halfway in, there were two huge masks hanging on each side of the wall. They stared out at Floyd with big, dark eyes that seemed to scream out in pain. Floyd noticed a couple of doors. One was open. Was that the door to the kitchen? Archie had sprinted after Spikey’s father so he wouldn’t have shut the door behind him.

Floyd had to get past the masks. He gulped, took one last look at the contorted faces, and started walking. He stared straight down at the floor, but he knew exactly when he was passing the masks. He got goose bumps all over his body.

He expected an alarm to go off that would alert 98

the voodoo mama, or even a trap door to open up, but nothing of the sort happened.

As he got to the open door, he pushed it a bit further, and then peeked inside. He couldn’t tell if this was the kitchen or not. The room looked more like a laboratory. Two large tables were crammed with glassware, steaming pans, and transparent tubes. In an open cupboard he saw pots filled with liquid and hideous floating creatures. Toward the back was a large fireplace where a big saucepan simmered. At the moment when Floyd was thinking that this could never be the kitchen, he heard the back door.

He had to hide!

He stepped into the laboratory and quickly looked about. In panic, he opened a nearby closet.

It was empty apart from some cleaning products.

Floyd crawled in and tried to close the door but it was difficult since there was no handle inside. The upside was that he could keep an eye on the lab through the crack but the downside was that he felt less protected. He was afraid that even his breathing could be heard. So, just to be certain, he covered his nose and mouth with his coat sleeve.

Floyd heard a door close. He peeked through the crack, his heart pounding.

When someone walked past the closet, he had 100

to refrain from squawking in fear. It was a man, who trudged to the nearest table, taking something from it. He held it up, studied it and then put it back again. Then, again, he picked something up.

Floyd recognized the plastic bag containing the lock of hair and nail-clipping.

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Put it back! Put it back! he silently urged.

The man put the little bag back and turned his attention to something else. He rummaged about, put something in his pocket, and then finally left the table.

Floyd leaned away from the crack and pressed his back against the side of the closet. Only after hearing the door slam was he brave enough to breathe again. He had to make sure he was out of this weird house as soon as possible. As far as he could recall, he had never been this scared. Not even after seeing that scary movie and being unable to sleep all night in spite of knowing it was just a movie.

Mustering all his courage, he stepped out of the closet. As he walked to the table, he wrestled the little leather bag from his pocket. He threw the bits of Archie on the table. Archie’s hair didn’t look much different from his. Then he picked up the little plastic bag, opened it, and took out his own lock of hair and nail-clipping. He put this together with the small leather bag into his pocket.

“Arrchieeee!”

Floyd froze. The voodoo mama! She was back!

He ran to his hiding place and took refuge. He had barely pulled the closet door shut when he heard her high heels clicking on the tiled floor. Floyd 102

swiftly pulled his fingers inside. He crouched down and covered his face with his hands. Even though this may have been childish, he felt less vulnerable if he could not see.

“Archie, where are you?” called out the voodoo mama. “I want to know what is going on.”

Floyd cringed at the sound of her voice. Even though she did not sound mean, he still did not like her tone.

“But … what’s that?” asked the voodoo mama.

She grinned an evil grin.

Floyd’s heart was thumping like a bouncing ball.

He hadn’t put Archie’s hair and nail-clipping in the little plastic bag. Was that what she meant?

“I can hear the pounding heart of a child,” mocked the woman.

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Floyd removed his hands from over his face and peeked through the crack. The woman smiled wickedly and stared toward his hiding place. Floyd backed away from the crack. She saw him. He was sure she did. Or at least she had heard him. Her

clicking heels came slowly closer. Frantically, he thought of what to do. He had to do something.

“Is that you, Archie?” asked the voodoo mama.

“You’re not scared about yesterday, are you?”

The roar of laughter that followed sent shivers down his spine. He had to think of something quickly! The only thing he could think of was to wait until she opened the closet door. Then he would jump out and try to escape.

Floyd heard the lab door open. Someone came in, stamping their feet and gasping heavily for air.

“There you are!” said the voodoo mama fiercely.

“Did you run?” Her voice sounded disapproving.

“Yes,” replied Archie. Floyd recognized his voice.

Floyd carefully moved to look through the crack again. The voodoo mama was standing with her back toward him. He couldn’t see Archie.

“Oh, it must have been your heart I heard.” The woman turned her head and glanced at the closet once more.

Floyd didn’t dare move.

She looked at her son again. “Can you please calm down? Your heartbeat is very apparent.” She turned and walked toward the table. Without looking at Archie, she asked: “What’s wrong? ” Floyd could see the boy now. He stepped forward, he face flushed. It appeared that Spikey’s 105

father had given him quite a run. “There was a strange little man right here in the kitchen. He looked like a gnome. I tried to catch him.”

She swiftly turned her head. “A gnome? Are you crazy? ” “I tell you, it’s true!” shouted Archie. “He was here!”

His mother shook her head. “First you don’t believe in voodoo—and now you believe in gnomes! Maybe I was too hard on you. Your brain is a little confused.”

Archie moved toward where the little plastic bag was. Floyd held his breath. Now he would notice.

“Did you touch this?” the boy asked his mother.

The woman looked aside. “I haven’t touched those things yet.”

“But before I saw that little man, everything was still in the bag. Why is it on the table now?”

Archie looked around as if the gnome might still be hiding somewhere.

“How should I know,” the voodoo mama snarled. “It must have been your father. I also lose things sometimes. ” Archie looked worried. He looked around again.

“Will you stop being so difficult!” groaned his mother. “I thought you were worried about that bully?”

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Floyd couldn’t believe what he heard. What bully? Did Archie really have a bully? Or had he lied to his mother so that she would make a doll out of Floyd’s bits?

“Your grandma was bullied so much she had to leave town just because people were scared of her.

I won’t let that happen to us here! Come, let’s do something about that. Or better still, you can do something about that.” The voodoo mama spun around and headed out of the kitchen. Archie grabbed the stuff off the table and ran after his mother.

Floyd watched them leave and felt his pocket. He knew he had to get out of the closet, but his whole body resisted. The closet was a safe hiding place in Archie’s creepy house. Finally, he pushed open the door and cautiously stepped out. He closed the door behind him and crept into the kitchen. If the voodoo mama had been in the hallway, she would certainly have heard his heart now. Floyd felt his heart pounding in his ears.

He opened the kitchen door and looked down the hallway.

Nobody!

At that moment, he threw all caution to the wind. He ran to the back door in the hope that it 107

wasn’t locked. The masks appeared to be straining to rip themselves off the wall, screaming and swallowing him with their dark eyes. He smashed against the door with a bang. He yanked the door handle down and jerked the door open. He felt relief coursing through his body when the door gave way and the air flowed across his face.

Floyd stormed outside, ran around the house and dived over the fence. He scraped his hands on the paving stones, but he felt nothing. Floyd picked himself up and rushed away from the house.

“Floyd!”

He stopped and looked around. It sounded like Spikey, but he couldn’t see her. Was this a voodoo mama trick?

“Up here!”

Up there, on a neighbor’s roof, he saw Spikey’s grinning face. Her father peeked over the edge of the roof. His alert gaze darted up and down the street, and he gestured to Floyd to be quiet. Floyd nodded his head. Of course he would be quiet!

“Did anyone see you?” asked Spikey’s father.

Before Floyd could reply, he heard the slamming of a door. Floyd froze. He felt hot beads of sweat sting his eyes.

“Get going,” urged Spikey’s father.

He tore down the street without looking back.

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Away from the voodoo house. Away from everything.

The only thing he wanted was to go back to the safety of his own room.

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15

You will pay for this!

Floyd yawned and rubbed his eyes. The school bell had just rung and he was walking with all the other children across the schoolyard to the open gates.

He would have preferred to stay home, but his mother did not believe him when he said he was sick. Even when he honestly explained that he had had a bad night’s sleep, she still didn’t budge. Yet she would cancel her appointments for a little headache.

Archie and his buddies weren’t waiting for him today. Floyd wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or a bad sign. Even though he had swapped the bits, he still got a bad feeling in his gut when he thought about that voodoo doll. Imagine if he had not retrieved all of his own hair out of that little bag?

And did he really swap the nail-clipping? His memory of the whole visit to Archie’s house somehow seemed fuzzy.

“Aren’t you excited?” asked Spikey, coming up beside him.

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Floyd looked down at the bright face of his classmate. “Excited? Creeped out you mean.”

“That bang?” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know what that was.”

Floyd didn’t say a word. He looked around.

Not a trace of Archie and his buddies. Still he didn’t feel safe. What if someone overheard him and Spikey?

“Did you manage to swap the bits?” asked Spikey.

“I think so,” mumbled Floyd.

“You think so?” She looked at him, not understanding. “Why are you not sure?”

“Everything was so weird inside. It’s as if it never really happened.”

“Oh!” cried Spikey excitedly. “What was it like inside Archie’s?”

Floyd shrunk. “Shush. He’ll hear us! I’ll tell you later.”

She stared ahead and scratched her chin dramatically. “Well, okay. Maybe you’re right. A good story deserves cookies. And I haven’t got any cookies with me at the moment. And neither do you, I think.”

“Cookies?” stammered Floyd. “I haven’t got any cookies.”

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“Exactly,” she said in a severe tone. “As long as you don’t have any cookies, I won’t listen to your story!” She turned around and squeezed in between the other kids.

Floyd shook his head and followed her inside.

It was clear from the chaos in the classroom that Miss Brownell was not there yet. Two laughing guys were running between the rows of desks, encouraged by most of the class. Three girls sat and whispered to each other at their desks, avidly watching the jokers. Floyd went to his desk, and glanced timidly back at the classroom. Not a sign of Archie. His two buddies were there though.

Dennis made a rude gesture and glared at Erik. The two boys shoved each other harder and harder. It was weird seeing them without their leader. Where was Archie?

“Hi there cookie-less neighbor,” said Spikey with a broad grin.

“You’re so bizarre,” said Floyd as he took his seat.

The little girl giggled. “Thank you. I try my best.”

After that, Floyd paid no attention to her. He bit his nails and looked intently at the door. Was Archie late on purpose?

“Why are you frowning so much?” asked

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Spikey. “Wasn’t our adventure yesterday great?”

Before Floyd could say anything, the teacher entered the classroom. Everyone flew to their seats as if someone had stopped the music during a game of musical chairs.

“Is everyone here?” the teacher asked, holding the door handle. She peered around the classroom through her thick glasses. She stopped at Archie’s desk. “Does anyone know where Archie is?”

Nobody said anything.

“Dennis? Erik? Do you have any idea where your friend is?”

Dennis shrugged his shoulders. “Ask Erik. I’m sure he knows.”

Erik gave his buddy a whack with his elbow.

“Not true, Miss. I don’t know either!” He looked at Dennis as if he wanted to knock him for a loop.

“Well, then,” began Miss Brownell. “Then the attendance clerk must call Archie’s parents.” She left the classroom.

Floyd had difficulty paying attention in class. If Archie’s mother had already explained her son’s absence, someone would have knocked on the door to report this by now. Was Archie hiding somewhere to mug Floyd later?

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Spikey leaned over and tapped him. “Do you think Archie tweaked his voodoo doll on his way here?”

Floyd shook his head. “That would just be good news.”

Spikey bit her lip. “What if something horrible happened to him?” She glanced over her shoulder to the empty desk in the back of the classroom.

“Then it’s our fault. ” “Our fault?” asked Floyd, a little harder than intended.

The teacher stopped talking and looked toward him. “Is there something you want to share, Floyd?”

He shook his head. “No, Miss,” he said softly.

His cheeks began to redden.

Miss Brownell straightened her glasses. “All right then.” She fixed her gaze on the book she was holding and continued her discussion about large American rivers.

“If something has happened to Archie, it’s his own doing,” whispered Floyd. “Not ours.”

Spikey looked at him with surprise. “We made him make a voodoo doll of himself.”

“Because he wanted to make one of me!” Floyd noticed the teacher looking his way again. He quickly leaned forward, pretending he was writing.

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Only after the teacher finished her explanation did he dare look back at Spikey.

“I hope he just overslept,” said the little girl.

Floyd buried his face in his hands and shook his head. How could she say that? Hadn’t he just explained that he was not sure if he had successfully made the swap? She should just hope that Archie would never show up at school again!

Somebody pounded on the classroom door.

Slowly Floyd lifted his head. He barely dared to look at the door. His hands trembled and his mouth was dry. He couldn’t swallow.

“Come in!” called Miss Brownell.

The door opened and there stood the tall janitor.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Graubner?” Asked the teacher.

“Are you looking for Archie?” replied the janitor.

“Yes. Do you know where he is?” asked the teacher, surprised. “I expected him here.”

The janitor’s eyes twinkled. With a crooked smile, he grabbed something from around the corner and pushed it inside. “Here you go.”

It was Archie.

He looked as if he had just been wrestling in the mud with a wild pig. He was completely covered in 115

dirt. His jeans were more brown than blue, his gray jacket looked faded and camouflaged and even his usually neatly-combed hair was dirty. His hair looked more like a messed-up bird’s nest swarming with flies.

Floyd stared at him, mouth agape—and then the terrible stench reached his nostrils. With his hand in his sleeve, he covered the lower part of his face.

It wasn’t mud!

It was very apparent as the stinking wave rolled over the classroom. One after the other, the children held their noses or hid their noses behind hands, sleeves, or sweaters.

“It’s your fault!” hollered Archie.

Floyd went rigid until he saw that the boy was looking toward Dennis and Erik. The guys jumped up and looked at their friend in shock.

Archie’s chest was heaving wildly up and down, and his nostrils flared. “Never touch my stuff again!”

Floyd’s heart skipped a beat. Dangling from Archie’s right hand was a simple, brown doll ... it had a bit of a bulging belly. The buttons that served as eyes were broken on the top and the mouth was sewn in a distorted scowl, almost the same expression that Archie had on his face as he looked at his buddies.

“It was Erik. I didn’t do anything!” accused Dennis. He scooted his chair a little further away from Erik. “I didn’t touch that doll!”

Now Erik was stammering. “B—but I only wanted to have a look, not take it away. And then you pulled it, and—” “You’re gonna pay for this!” He menacingly pointed his finger at the two boys.

“That’s enough, Archie!” ordered the teacher 117

sternly.

A warm glow ended Floyd’s bellyache. He had no idea what exactly had happened with Archie, but obviously it had everything to do with the voodoo doll.

It worked!

“Archie, what’s that smell?” asked Miss Brownell, holding her nose. “Can you explain what happened?”

Archie glared at her. He shook his head and brownish-green splatter flew from his hair. The teacher stood back.

“Don’t worry, Archie. The flies don’t think you stink,” said Spikey soothingly. “They think you’re delicious!”

Several kids started chuckling. Archie gave her a dirty look and tried to beat off the flies that were buzzing about his head.

“Archie, don’t pet them so hard,” said Spikey, “you might frighten them!”

All the kids laughed, except Archie, of course.

He bit his lip and kept staring at Spikey.

“Spikey!” cried the teacher. “I am talking to Archie.”

She nodded understandingly. “I’ll wait until you’ve finished.”

The teacher shoved her glasses up, rubbed her 118

eyes, and spoke under her breath, then returned to Archie. “What are you holding in your hands?”

He jerked around, shielding the brown doll from the teacher.

“It’s a doll,” the janitor grumbled from the doorway. “Try and take it away from him. He might jump into the stinking ditch next to the school again.”

Once again, the whole class burst out laughing.

Except Floyd. He knew what kind of creepy doll Archie was holding in his arms. A doll that should have been made out of bits of Floyd.

“It’s your own fault,” Floyd said.

Archie gave him a nasty look, but didn’t say a word.

“No, Floyd.” Spikey shook her head and raised her finger like a schoolmarm. “It’s our fault. You know that, right?”

“No, I don’t,” replied Floyd.

“Yes, you do!” Spikey laughed. “You did a very good job yesterday.”

Archie’s eyes popped open and his jaw dropped a little. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he stared at Floyd in disbelief.

“Take him to the attendance clerk and let him call his parents,” ordered the teacher. “That way he can take his toy home, and put on fresh clothes.”

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Archie looked at Floyd scornfully. Normally Floyd would look away. But not this time. This victory was his. He forced himself to keep watching until Archie turned and left the classroom.

“Strange,” mumbled the teacher absent-mindedly.

“Very strange.” She returned to her desk and seemed to have forgotten all about the lesson.

“I hope we’ve got cookies at home,” sighed Spikey.

Floyd looked at her in surprise. “Why?” “This is such a special tale to tell my dad. We need the yummiest cookies.”

Floyd chuckled. “You’re so bizarre.”

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16

It’s you who has to change

Floyd was sitting on the edge of the sandbox. Spikey stood facing him. Not on her feet, but on her head while eating her sandwich. She’d been practicing this latest trick during recess for three days now. She called it “Upside Down Sandwich.” On Tuesday, she had a liverwurst sandwich. Wednesday she had a ham and cheese sandwich. According to Spikey, this was the most difficult because the slices could fall out onto the ground. This time, she had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Liverwurst is easier,” she said with her mouth full.

Floyd frowned. “Why?” “Peanut butter and jelly are not as tasty as liverwurst, and that makes it more difficult to keep my balance.”

Floyd thought this was due to her shoes more than anything else. Even for him, they would be too big. No wonder she wasn’t balanced. Other than that, she was wearing white pants with red flowers, a yellow sweater and a pink jacket.

“Filthy stinky flea,” muttered Archie as he passed 121

by. Archie had been absent from school on Monday and Tuesday—the teacher said he was sick. Floyd had had two wonderful days without Archie.

Nobody waited for him before or after school and nobody called him names during recess. As far as he was concerned, Archie could never again come to this school. It was too bad, though, when Archie was in his usual place on Wednesday morning.

“Why are you so upset?” asked Spikey.

“Oh,” mumbled Floyd, “I dunno. That annoying Archie.”

“Archie?” Spikey dropped her feet back on the ground and stood up. “Was he waiting for you this morning?”

Floyd shook his head. “He leaves me alone before and after school now.”

“That’s what I thought.” She reshaped her Spikey hairdo with her hands. “He might still hate you, but at least something changed. This time you fought back. We’re unbeatable together!” She roared like a lioness, even though it sounded more like a lap dog trying to act tough.

“But he still calls me Flea,” replied Floyd sharply.

“And so do the other kids!”

Spikey shrugged her shoulders. “Nobody knows about the adventure we had. Would you expect them to act differently now?”

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Floyd didn’t say a word. He knew she was right.

Of course his classmates behaved exactly the same as they did a week ago. For them nothing changed.

“How do I make them call me Floyd?”

“You can’t! You’ve got to change.” She poked her finger into his belly. “You can’t change other people.”

“But how?” He raised his arms in the air and then dropped them hopelessly.

“Don’t crawl into a corner like a wounded little animal! When Archie stole bits of you, you fought back. But when someone calls you Flea, you act as if you’ve been beaten with a stick.”

“Fight back?” Floyd looked at her in disbelief.

“Against the whole class? Isn’t that impossible?’

“Use your imagination! Do a silly dance. Think of something.” Spikey sighed and shook her head.

“I’ve had enough of your moping. It gives me an icky feeling in my stomach. See you around, Floyd.”

“Spikey, wait!” shouted Floyd. Tears stung his eyes.

Spikey didn’t reply. She skipped away across the schoolyard without looking back. Floyd plopped down on the edge of the sandbox. This stupid bullying! Now, not even Spikey wanted to be with him. It just wasn’t fair. “Just because of the stupid nickname,” he grumbled.

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“What name?” said a deep voice beside him.

He turned and saw Spikey’s father standing next to the sandbox. Floyd wiped the tears from his eyes and looked around. Nobody noticed the two of them.

“Because everyone calls me Flea, Spikey doesn’t want to be around me anymore,” he said pitifully.

“Then you didn’t understand her,” said the little man, shaking his head.

“But isn’t that why she took off?” asked Floyd in defense.

“No, that’s not the reason. It hurts her to see you so sad all the time.”

Floyd said nothing and stared at his feet. It never occurred to him what it was like for Spikey.

“Seems to me you’re healthy, you have a place to sleep, and you are fed every day,” said Spikey’s father. “Right?”

Floyd nodded, but he didn’t look up at the little guy.

“And if Spikey didn’t care for you a lot, she probably wouldn’t feel so badly now.”

Floyd shrugged his shoulders.

“It sounds like a pretty good life, Floyd, but you still sulk because of that name. Stop doing that. It’s a waste of time.” Spikey’s father gave Floyd a wink and disappeared behind the sandbox.

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Floyd stood up and watched him speed off into the bushes, his false beard blowing in the wind.

Floyd put his hands in his pockets and kicked at a pebble. Maybe he was making a fuss over nothing.

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He’d rather be a Flea with Spikey than a Floyd with nobody.

It was then that Floyd knew exactly what to do.

Class had resumed and Miss Brownell was giving a boring lecture. Floyd wasn’t really listening. He wanted to say something to Spikey, but he couldn’t.

Every time he leaned toward her to whisper something in her ear, she leaned the other way.

Finally Floyd had had enough.

“From now on Spikey, I want you to call me Flea,” he said out loud for everyone to hear.

Suddenly the class woke up from their drowsiness.

Everyone sat up straight and stared at him. Some kids sniggered. Floyd felt hot and tried to ignore the rest of the class. He kept his eyes fixed on Spikey.

He could not recall ever seeing her look so surprised.

“Children, quiet!” commanded the teacher.

“Really?” asked Spikey.

“Flea and Spikey. That sounds good, doesn’t it?” It was as if someone had lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. Flea went into the house of the voodoo mama and fought back against Archie. Now that sounded good.

“Floyd and Spikey. I want you two to be quiet,” demanded the teacher sternly.

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“Floyd and Spikey?” Spikey climbed up out of her chair and stood on top of her desk. “We are Flea and Spikey! Two superheroes. Isn’t that right, Archie?” Once again, she did an impression of a tough-acting lap dog.

Archie’s face turned red and he clenched his fists, but he kept his mouth shut. All the other kids didn’t —they all burst out laughing.

“I’ve warned you, Spikey,” said Miss Brownell.

“I’m putting you in detention.”

“I’ll join her, Miss,” added Floyd.

Spikey looked at him gratefully. Floyd couldn’t stop smiling. Flea and Spikey. It was as if a radiant sun had driven away the rain inside of him.

This was how a rainbow must feel.