The Bare Bum Gang and the Valley of Doom Read online

  It was the sound of friendship dying.

  'Oh, Ludo,' said Noah, on the brink of, well, you know. 'How could you?'

  'But . . . but . . . but . . .'

  The truth was I was as stunned as any of them.

  Chapter Seven

  THE TRAGIC FALL

  OF LUDO

  'Maybe it was an accident or something,' said Alfie softly. 'Or maybe Ludo ate the sweets and then just, well, forgot about it.'

  I looked at him. His face was completely blank, and it was impossible to know what was going on in his head.

  'Anyway,' he continued, 'it was my birthday a week ago, and I've still got some birthday money left over. I can buy you all some new sweets.'

  'That's very good of you,' said Jenny, her face as stern as a statue. I mean as stern as a stern statue. You probably get smiling statues, but she was way sterner than that.

  'I've heard enough,' said The Moan, as if he was in charge. 'Outside, everyone.'

  Almost without knowing how, I found that I was standing outside the den. All my old friends were in a line facing me, with Alfie sitting on a tree stump over to one side.

  The Moan was talking.

  'When you started out as Gang Leader, I thought you were all right at it. Not brilliant, but not too rubbish. But now you've led us into a fiasco in the Valley of Doom, and we got all stunk up and, what's more, you've eaten all our sweets. That makes you a thief, as well as an idiot and a loser. If you had just been an idiot, or just a thief, or just a loser, then we might have let you stay in the Gang. But as you're all three, we've got to kick you out.' He looked at the others. 'All agreed?'

  Noah had tears welling up in his eyes, but he said nothing. Jenny looked sad and serious, and said, 'Agreed,' in a quiet voice.

  Jamie said, 'Agreed,' in a loud voice, at the same time as scratching his bottom and picking his nose.

  No one spoke up for me.

  'And as there's now room in the den for another person, I say we let Alfie in to take Ludo's place. Everyone agree to that too?' There was a general 'yes' sound.

  'Have you anything to say before we pass sentence?'

  'I think you've already passed sentence,' whispered Jenny.

  'Oh yes. Well, have you anything to say before we, er, carry out the sentence.'

  He made it sound like I was about to go to the guillotine, which is how the French used to chop people's heads off before they invented the firing squad to kill people.

  I took a moment to steady myself. It's important to have Famous Last Words. It's one of the things you'll be remembered for, such as Julius Caesar's 'Et tu Brute', which he said after he'd been nastily stabbed in the togas, and Oscar Wilde saying, 'Either the wallpaper goes or I do.'

  'Yes, I have. I didn't steal those sweets. I know it looks bad, with the wrappers being in my binocular case and everything, but I just didn't, and if you were ever truly my friends then you'd believe me. And I think we did quite well in the Valley of Doom, considering we were ambushed. Some people might say it was our finest hour. Anyway, I invented this gang and it wouldn't exist without me, but I don't want to be in any gang that doesn't want me in it. So it's goodbye. You'll never see me again.'

  'Except at school,' said Noah.

  'Yes, well, of course we'll see each other at school. It'd be hard not too.'

  'And at Scouts,' said Jamie.

  'Yes, I suppose I'll see you at Scouts too, sometimes.'

  'And generally around the place, like at the shops,' said The Moan. 'But we'll ignore you.'

  'I'll ignore you even more,' I replied.

  And then, without another word or turning back, I left them for ever.

  Probably.

  Chapter Eight

  POOR OBI-WAN

  'You can't stay in there all day, Ludo.'

  That showed what my mum knew. I was going to stay in my bedroom all day and nobody could stop me. She was shouting because I'd piled everything in my bedroom up behind the door to jam it so she couldn't get in.

  This is what I crammed behind the door:

  my gigantic box of Lego (just the ordinary bits, not my Star Wars Lego, which is way too precious);

  my jaguar (or maybe leopard) pyjama case stuffed with all my old dressing-up clothes;

  all the books from my bookcase;

  my remote-controlled truck that hadn't had any batteries since I was four;

  my shoes (trainers, ordinary school shoes and Sunday best);

  my box (including the priceless Sea Emerald my dad found for me on the beach in Devon);

  my pillows;

  my duvet;

  my underpants;

  my real working microscope that I'd never actually managed to see anything through at all, despite trying with hair, flies, blood, bogeys and drops of water out of the toilet that should have been squirming with interesting germs.

  So, as you see, it would take more than just one mum to bash her way in. Unless she was driving a bulldozer, or had a bazooka.

  'It's your favourite dinner.'

  I was actually quite hungry, because of not having any sweets after the mission. But no matter how hungry I was, I wouldn't open the door because I didn't want my mum and dad and my sister Ivy to see my eyes. If they did, they might think that I'd been crying, even though I hadn't. My eyes were red and watery because I had something in them. Probably a fly. Yes, that was it. Two flies had flown into my eyes. Or maybe one fly had flown into both of them. Not at the same time, because then it would have to be the size of a pigeon or giant bat or something, and it wouldn't have been happy with just making my eyes water but would have tried to suck out all of my blood too. No, it was just a standard fly, and it must have flown into one eye and then escaped, but had been so confused it then flew into the other eye. Yes, that was definitely it.

  'It's fish and chips.'

  Fish and chips. I love fish and chips. I eat the chips first, and then the inside of the fish, and then the crinkly batter last – I like the crinkly batter best. The only bad thing about it was having to watch Ivy eat mushy peas, which was like watching a zombie suck the brains out of its victim.

  My stomach made a loud growling noise like a black panther announcing his lordship over all the beasts of the jungle. And if you think that the lion is the Lord of the Jungle, then you're wrong, because lions don't even live in the jungle, but where it's all grassy. And if you think Tarzan is the Lord of the Jungle, then you're just plain silly, because he's only a story.

  'I'm not eating any mushy peas.'

  'I know you're not.'

  'And you can't try to persuade me to, even by bribing me.'

  'Whatever you like. Just come down. I know you're upset.'

  'I'M NOT UPSET!'

  'Whatever you say.'

  'I'll think about it.'

  It took me a few minutes to clear the mess from the door. Mum and Dad looked at each other when they saw me. Ivy had a gigantic chip in her fist, holding it as if it was a spear. Good idea, that, I thought. I mean, an edible spear. For example, if you were out hunting in the jungle and got lost, you could eat it. Not that a chip would be much use if you got attacked by cannibals. They'd just eat you and then have the chip as a side order.

  After I'd finished my fish and chips (plus some of Ivy's that she didn't want and hadn't dribbled any mushy pea juice over) I went back to my bedroom. Then Dad came up for a chat. It was obviously his turn.

  'What's up, son?' he asked in the special voice he always used when he wanted to sound like he cared about my problems.

  'Nothing.'

  'Is it your elasticated trousers? That's what your mother thinks.'

  My mum had bought me a pair of trousers with a stretchy elastic waist. Some of the other kids made fun of them because they were babyish. They said they were stretchy so I could fit a nappy inside them. I'd forgotten how much I hated my elasticated trousers, but now Dad had reminded me. That made me even more sad.

  'No.'

  'Is it your hair?'
r />   Mum had cut my hair at the weekend. It looked like a vulture had landed on my head and died. That was another thing to be depressed about.

  'No.'

  'Is it because Ivy ate Obi-Wan?'

  'IVY DID WHAT?'

  My Lego Obi-Wan Kenobi character was one of my favourite things in the world, and now my sister had eaten him. Now there was no one to fly the Jedi Interceptor. Just how bad were things going to get?

  'Oh, sorry, didn't you know? Don't worry, we'll get him when he comes out the other end. We'll wash all the you-know-what off. He'll be good as new.'

  This was turning into the worst cheering-up session in the history of the world. I decided that I'd better tell Dad why I was sad before he made things even worse by telling me that the universe was about to end, or that Granny and Grandad were coming to stay.

  'I got chucked out of the Gang, Dad.'

  And then, because I'd said it, straight out like that, I did cry, but only a little bit. Dad gave me a hug, and I told him the whole story, except the part about doing a wee in the Special Mixture Number Seven.

  'Never mind,' he said. 'You'll soon make some new friends.'

  'How can I? There isn't anyone else to play with.'

  'What about Jules and Jim?'

  Jules and Jim were two manky twins. They were five years old and the only game they could play was pulling hair. You'd have to do a lot of thinking before you came up with a game as rubbish as pulling hair.

  'I'd rather eat my own ear in a sandwich.'

  'Oh . . . Well, would you like me to have a word with Noah's dad? Noah's your best friend, isn't he?'

  'Definitely not. It's Noah I hate the most now. He should have stuck up for me.'

  'OK then, Ludo, why don't you sleep on it tonight, and we'll have a think about what to do in the morning? Things always look better in the morning.'

  'You don't.'

  'What?'

  'You always look terrible in the morning, like someone's come and beaten you up in the night.'

  'Ha ha,' said Dad, and ruffled my hair. He was quite a good dad, really.

  I read my comics late into the night. It seemed that every superhero had a helper or a friend or a gang. I was the only one who was completely alone, unless you included my Obi-Wan, all covered in Ivy poo.

  And it was somewhere in that long, lonely night that I began to Think the Unthinkable.

  Chapter Nine

  ALFIE

  So I thought The Unthinkable, but before I actually had to do The Unthinkable (or do I mean The Undoable?), I decided to have a little chat with the person who had brought me to this terrible situation.

  I'd noticed that Alfie always got to school early so he could suck up to the teachers without any of the kids noticing. That's the kind of squirt he was. So the next day, I got up half an hour before normal, and ran all the way to school so I could catch him. I hid behind the school gates, peeping out through one of the gaps in the wood.

  Alfie got dropped off in a car by his mum. She gave him a big wet kiss on the cheek, the kind you could hear going off like a depth charge in a submarine film. Whuuuuump! it went. Then she wiped the red lipstick stain off with her hanky while he squirmed and looked around in case anyone had seen.

  Well, I had.

  As soon as he came through the gates I jumped out in front of him. He looked surprised for about a second. Then he said, quite calmly, as if we were old chums, 'Hello, Ludo.'

  That took me by surprise, which was the opposite of what was supposed to be happening (i.e. me taking him by surprise).

  'Hello,' I said.

  'Nice to see you.'

  'Yes. Nice to see you too,' I replied.

  And then I remembered what I was there for.

  'No, actually it isn't nice to see you. In fact, seeing you is completely rubbish. I'd rather see a giant pile of steaming monkey poo served up on my plate for dinner.'

  'Really? Then why were you waiting for me? You must really like monkey poo for dinner. I'll have to tell the others later.'

  You had to admit, this Alfie was a cool customer. Well, two could play at that game. I mean, the game of being a cool customer.

  'Exactly,' I replied. 'I rest my case.'

  'Exactly what?' said Alfie, looking a bit puzzled, as well he might.

  'You admit that you'd rather eat sweets than monkey poo?'

  'Yes, of course . . . Who wouldn't, except a loony like you.'

  'So then, you admit it was you who ate our gang sweets?'

  'Ah, so that's what this is all about. Look, Ludo, why don't you just let it go? The Bare Bum Gang doesn't want you, doesn't need you. We've moved on – why don't you? Get a life. Make some new friends. Find a new hobby. Whittle a stick. Collect some stamps.'

  'I know exactly what you did,' I said, beginning to lose my temper. 'You made some kind of a sneaky plan with Dockery. You knew we were going to get ambushed, and that's why you were right there to rescue us. And you'd already scoffed our sweets and hidden them in my binocular case . . .'

  I sort of dwindled into silence then, because I didn't have any proof of what I'd said and I could see from the smile on Alfie's face that he knew it.

  'It doesn't matter what you think,' he said, still smiling. 'Everyone knows you're a liar and a sweet-stealer and a useless Gang Leader. They all like me more than you.' And then he paused and his face suddenly looked so sly you could have used it to show what the word 'sly' meant to someone who was learning how to speak English – say an alien or a Frenchman. 'Especially Jenny,' he continued. 'She told me how much more she likes me than you.'

  Well, that was too much for me.

  'You keep your horrible slimy hands off her, you monster,' I yelled.

  And I admit, I seriously considered giving him a jolly good thump on the side of the head. But I didn't, because even thoughhe was a bit taller than me, he was weakand skinny, so it would be bullying. Anyway, it would be descending to his level and you shouldn't use violence to solve arguments, unless you're arguingwith the Nazis, and violence is the only language they understand. Except German, of course.

  So I gave him a little poke on the shoulder instead. And when I say a little poke, I don't really mean a gigantic big poke. I mean a really, really little poke. Hard enough to, say, knock a ladybird off a twig or burst a spit bubble, but not hard enough to poke through a piece of tissue paper. Unless you'd just blown your nose on it, and you had a really runny cold. So what I'm saying is I didn't poke him very hard at all.

  But the way he acted you'd have thought I'd shot him with a high-powered rifle. And not in the shoulder, but right in the middle of his eye. He threw himself down and writhed around in agony, holding his face.

  'My eye! My eye!' he screamed. 'I'm blinded. Blinded for life.'

  It was then that I heard the gasp behind me. I spun round to see the whole of the Bare Bum Gang there, along with a load of other children just arriving for school. Alfie had seen them coming, and that was why he went into his act. It was obvious. They must have realized what he was up to. Mustn't they?

  'That is just about the nastiest thing I've ever seen,' said Jenny.

  'Yeah, I know,' I began. 'I mean, the way he—'

  But Jenny shoved me aside as easily as you throw the duvet off your bed in the morning.

  'Poking a kid in the eye,' said The Moan, following close behind Jennifer, 'is the worst thing you can do. It's not fighting fair. It's cheating. Everyone knows that.'

  'But I didn't . . . I . . . it was . . .' But it was all too late. They crowded around Alfie and no one was listening to me.

  'He just poked me in the eye for no reason,' said Alfie, from the middle of the crowd.

  'Do you want me to bash him?' said Jamie.

  'No,' said Alfie. 'Just leave him. He isn't worth it.'

  'You're right,' said Jenny. 'He isn't.'

  All I could see was their backs closed against me. I was alone.

  OK, I thought. That's it.

  Time to do The Unthin
kable.

  Or The Undoable.

  Or whatever it was.

  Chapter Ten

  THE UNTHINKABLE

  (OR THE UNDOABLE)

  'You? What do you want?'

  That huge ugly head with the eyes, nose and mouth all squished together in the middle of his face peered out at me from the flap at the front of the Dockery Gang tent.

  I swallowed hard and said it.

  'I want to be in your gang.'

  Dockery, followed by Stanton, Furbank, Larkin and Hughes, piled out of the tent. It hadn't looked big enough to hold them all, but somehow they'd all squeezed in, and now they squeezed out.

  They formed a circle all around me.

  'Is this some kind of a joke?' said Dockery. 'Because if it is, it isn't funny.'

  'It's not a joke. I'm not in the Bare Bum Gang any more. I want to be in your gang.'

  Now, you're probably amazed and disgusted by this. I know I would be, if I were you. How could I even dream of joining the evil Dockery Gang? Weren't they all bullies and wicked villains and really, really naughty?

  Yes.

  Yes.

  And yes.

  But I had no gang and no friends. I was alone and defenceless in a cruel world. I thought that even a rubbish, nasty gang like Dockery's was better than no gang at all. And there was something else. I wanted to prove to the Bare Bum Gang that I didn't need them, that I could do perfectly well without them, thank you very much.

  Dockery smiled. It wasn't pretty. He looked like a turnip that'd been hit with a spade. Then he laughed. It sounded like the screeching of a baboon with rabies. As he laughed the rest of his gang joined in.

  Then Dockery gave me a shove. One of the others had knelt down behind me so I tripped over him and fell on my back. The oldest trick in the book, but I had fallen for it. Now they all laughed so hard I thought they were going to throw up.

  'Why should we let you into our gang?' said Dockery when he'd calmed down.

  'I know where the Bare Bum Gang keep their sweets. And I know where all the traps are.'