Anthony and Edward shook their heads.
We wandered away from the noticeboard and out into the playground.
“I could sing,” Edward suggested.
“Only if you want us to get booed off the stage.” Anthony wrinkled up his nose.
He was quite right too! Edward sings like a frog with a sore throat! Still, his voice is better than mine, so maybe I shouldn’t say much!
“How about dancing?” said Anthony. “We could always do a dance.”
“Ballet dancing?” I asked, doubtfully.
Anthony and Edward started jumping around, their arms waving about in the air like tree branches in a force twelve hurricane.
“How does this look?” asked Anthony, anxiously.
“Yeah, how does this look?” asked Edward.
“Like we need a few more lessons before we dance for anyone else,” I sighed.
“Ballet dancing is hard work,” Anthony gasped.
“Maxine, what are we going to do?” asked Edward.
So I said, “That is a job for Girl Wonder . . .”
“And the Terrific Twins,” said my brothers. And we all did ballet pirouettes and jumps until I landed on Edward’s right foot by accident!
Then I had the best idea of my life.
“I’ve got it.” I clapped my hands and waved them in the air over my head. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”
“What?” said Anthony.
“Got what?” Edward repeated.
“Anthony, you can do one of your rapping rhymes and Edward and I will do the backing vocals and dances. If we practise at break-time, we’ll be ready for the auditions at lunch time.” I grinned.
“A brilliant idea,” said Edward.
“Extra-super-duper brilliant,” I agreed.
But Anthony didn’t say a word.
“What’s the matter, Anthony?” I asked. “Don’t you like my idea?”
“You two told me yesterday to stop making up rhymes and raps,” Anthony reminded us.
“That was yesterday,” I said.
“Yeah, and this is today,” Edward added.
“I’m not going to do it,” said Anthony. And he walked off!
I looked at Edward and he looked at me and we both ran after Anthony.
“Anthony, what’re you talking about?” I frowned. “You have to do it. We haven’t got time to practise anything else and you’re brilliant at rhyming.”
“That’s not what you said yesterday,” said Anthony. “You said I didn’t have any talent.”
“No, we didn’t . . .” I began, but Anthony wouldn’t let me finish.
“You said I didn’t have any talent, because if I did you’d appreciate it,” Anthony said huffily.
“We do appreciate it, don’t we, Maxine?” Edward said.
“Prove it,” said Anthony.
“Prove it? How?” I asked.
Then Anthony got a glittering gleam in his eye.
Oh-oh! I thought. Oh-oh! I don’t like the look of this.
“I’m not going to make up any more raps or rhymes until you two promise never to ask me to stop doing them . . .” Anthony began.
“We promise,” I said.
“Yeah, we definitely promise,” Edward agreed.
“And until you both go down on your knees and say I’ve got lots and lots of talent!”
What could we do? I didn’t want to go down on my knees to Anthony but I wanted to audition for the talent show. With Anthony’s help I was sure we’d be chosen, but without Anthony . . .
“This is all your fault, Maxine,” Edward told me frostily. “It was your dippy-dorky-dozy idea to get Anthony to stop making up rhymes yesterday.”
“Edward, you wanted him to shut up just as much as I did,” I said.
“I’m waiting.” Anthony sniffed, his nose in the air.
Edward and I looked at each other. Slowly we both got down on our knees.
“Dear Anthony, you have got kilo-tons of talent,” I said.
“Mega-tons,” Edward agreed. “Maxine, what’s bigger than mega-tons?”
“Giga-tons!” I replied. “So please say you’ll do it.”
“Very well, then,” Anthony said, at last. “Since you both asked so nicely.”
I got to my feet, brushing off my kneecaps.
“I told you that you’d both be sorry and that you’d miss my rhymes,” said Anthony smugly.
“Anthony,” I said. “Don’t rub it in!”
But he did!
All through the morning break, we practised and practised. Anthony came up with all the rhymes we should say, I invented the dance steps and Edward made up all the drum noises.
At last it was lunch time. We watched some of the other acts whilst we waited for our turn. One boy read out a poem about some clouds. At least five different people played tunes on their recorders. One boy played his violin. Three of the girls from my class had got together and they did an acrobatics show on the stage, which was quite good. Then it was our turn.
“So what do you call your act?” asked Mrs Kelsey, from in front of the stage.
I looked at the twins. They looked at me. We hadn’t thought about that bit!
“Hang on a second,” I said quickly. Anthony, Edward and I bent in a huddle to discuss it. “We’re called the Zappers!” I said at last.
“OK, Zappers.” Mrs Kelsey smiled. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Anthony stepped forward. I was on one side of him, Edward was on the other. Anthony coughed to clear his throat. I counted out – just like I’d seen them do on the telly. “One, two, one, two, three, four.”
And then we began.
Edward started slapping on his puffed-out cheeks. I started drumming on my chest and making rhythmic raspberry noises! We all started dancing, using the steps we’d rehearsed in the playground. Then Anthony began.
“My name is Tony,
You know it’s true,
We’ve got a lot
To say to you.
With my sister, Max,
And my brother, Ed,
If you don’t like this
You must be dead!”
I started snapping my fingers whilst Edward took over the drum noises by slapping his chest.
“We’re called the Zappers
We’re finger-snappers
And great toe-tappers,
We’re the youngest rappers!” rhymed Anthony.
I smiled at him. He’d made up a whole new verse, just like that. What a hero!
Then it was Edward’s turn. He stepped forward and started snapping his fingers.
“So don’t try to stop us,
Or even top us.
’Cause we won’t lose it,
We’re busy making music!” rapped Edward.
“We won’t cause a scene
We won’t make a fuss
If you, Mrs Kelsey,
Will just choose us!” we all said together. “Yeah!”
And with that we all did the splits – well, as close as we could get to them!
Mrs Kelsey and all the others in the hall started clapping and cheering and whistling. I grinned at Anthony and Edward. They beamed back at me.
“You three are definitely going to be in the show!” Mrs Kelsey told us at once. And she hadn’t said that to anyone else as soon as they’d finished. She’d told everyone else that they’d get her final decision by the end of the day.
“For once, one of your dizzy-dopey plans actually worked, Maxine,” said Edward, amazed.
“Thanks to Anthony, the most supreme, the most excellent rapper in the universe!” I grinned.
And I meant it too!
Looking After Thunder
It was raining. I don’t mean just a spot of water here and a drop of water there – I mean it was pouring. As if the clouds were just huge, bottomless buckets of water which were being tipped over us. The twins and I were hurrying along the road after school, desperate to get home.
“I’m soaked,” said Edward
, coughing and spluttering as some water ran into his mouth.
“I bet I’m more soaked than you,” said Anthony.
“Well, I couldn’t be more wet if I jumped in a swimming pool,” I said, rubbing the rain-water out of my eyes so I could see where I was going.
Then I heard a strange sound. I stopped walking.
“Edward, Anthony, did you hear that?” I frowned.
My brothers stopped walking and listened too. There it was again. A strange, whimpering noise. And it was coming from behind a horse-chestnut tree in the park beside us.
“Edward, go and see what’s making that noise,” I said.
“You go!” Edward told me.
“Go on then, Anthony. Don’t be a chicken,” I said, trying to persuade my other brother.
“No way! I’m not going by myself. It might be anything,” said Anthony.
I sighed. “Then I reckon that this is a job for Girl Wonder . . .”
“And the sopping-wet Terrific Twins,” said Anthony.
“The dripping-wet Terrific Twins,” Edward agreed.
And we all jumped up and down in the puddle we were standing in, to activate our superhero powers.
“Right then. We’ll all go,” I said, once we’d finished leaping up and down.
“You first,” said Anthony.
“Yeah, you first and me last! I’ll stay here and act as a look-out,” said Edward.
“Maxine, anything could be making that noise,” began Anthony. “It could be . . .”
“Shush!” I whispered, my finger over my lips. “We don’t want to scare it off, whatever it is.”
“We don’t?” Anthony asked.
“We don’t,” I said firmly.
We all looked around but no one was near. Anthony and I crept across the wet muddy ground towards the horse-chestnut tree, where the noise was coming from. We crept around the tree – and then we saw it. A tiny puppy in a soggy, soaking-wet cardboard box. The puppy’s fur was so wet it looked like a baby beaver or otter which had just climbed out of a river.
I picked up the puppy which was too weak to even stand up in my hands. It only had the strength to whimper and sniffle softly as I held it.
“What are we going to do with it?” Anthony asked.
“We’re going to take it home,” I said firmly, walking back to the main road.
“But Mum said we can’t have a dog – remember?” Anthony reminded me. “She’s said that hundreds and hundreds of times.”
“We can’t just leave it there,” I said. “It’ll die if we just leave it there.”
Already its eyes were closing. I could feel that the puppy was breathing, but it was so still it scared me.
“Come on, you two,” I said.
And without saying another word, we ran all the way home.
“Mum, Mum!” I called out as soon as we got home.
Mum came flying out of the living room. “Oh no you don’t, you three! Take off your wellies and your coats and scarves and hats right there, before you go dripping water all through the house.”
“Mum, we heard a strange noise when we were coming home from school . . .”
“And so we went to have a look . . .”
“And we found a puppy in a cardboard box . . .”
“And the puppy was all wet and cold . . .”
“And we couldn’t leave it . . .”
We all spoke at once whilst I held out my hands to Mum, to show her what we’d found.
“Maxine, what’s going on?” Mum frowned.
We all tried to tell her again what happened, but Mum put one hand up.
“One at a time. Maxine, you start.”
“We found him in the storm, Mum . . .” I began. And very slowly, very carefully, I told Mum exactly what had happened.
“So we couldn’t just leave him there, could we, Mum?” I said.
Edward, Anthony and I all held our breath as we waited for Mum to answer. She looked at each of us in turn and then down at the puppy.
“No, of course you couldn’t,” she smiled at last. “Bring him into the kitchen.”
We followed Mum into the kitchen where she got out a cardboard box she’d used to carry home the shopping.
“Anthony, get me some old newspapers from the living room. Edward, run upstairs and get me an old towel. I’ll warm up some milk on the cooker,” said Mum.
For the next half an hour we were all busy. We lined the box with newspapers until it was very soft and warm. Then Mum very carefully dried our puppy’s fur.
“This towel is just for the puppy from now on,” Mum told us.
Then we poured out some warm milk into a saucer. But although the puppy opened its eyes, it was too weak to stand up and drink.
Mum squatted down over the puppy, a deep frown on her face. She very gently stroked its fur.
“Aren’t you pretty? As you were found in a thunderstorm, we should call you Thunder,” Mum said gently. “Come on then, Thunder. You have to drink your milk if you want to get better.”
I looked at Mum. Thunder was the perfect name for our puppy. I looked at our puppy again. It looked so weak.
“Don’t let our puppy die, Mum.” Anthony sniffed.
“Yeah, don’t let it die.” Edward shook his head.
“Edward, go and wash out one of my rubber gloves over there by the sink – inside and out,” Mum said.
Edward ran over to the sink and did just that. Then Mum poured the rest of the warm milk from the saucepan into her glove. As we watched, she carefully pricked a small hole in one of the fingers of the glove. Then she came over to our puppy. Mum squeezed the glove finger until some of the milk dribbled out and ran along the puppy’s lips. Thunder’s tongue snaked out to lick up the milk.
“Hooray!” we all shouted.
“Not so fast.” Mum shook her head. “We’ve still got a long way to go yet.”
Mum squeezed out some more milk. Thunder licked that up as well. Then Mum held the finger of the rubber glove over Thunder’s mouth. I held my breath, waiting anxiously to see if Thunder would feed. He licked the finger of the rubber glove once. And again. Then he lifted his head slightly and began to suck on the finger. The twins and I danced around the kitchen. Thunder was feeding!
“As soon as he’s better and able to stand on his feet, I’ll call the RSPCA,” said Mum. “They’ll be able to take him away and look after him.”
I froze. So did Anthony and Edward. We stared at Mum.
“Oh please, Mum. We can’t give Thunder away,” pleaded Edward.
“We have to look after him. We found him,” added Anthony.
“We rescued him, Mum. We can’t give him away now,” I begged.
Mum looked at us. “Small, cute puppies grow up very quickly into huge dogs. They need to be fed and watered and walked regularly. Are you three prepared to do that?”
“Yes, we are.”
“We promise.”
“We’ll walk him every day,” we said quickly.
“Pets aren’t for a week or a month, they’re for life. And they’re a lot of responsibility,” said Mum, sternly.
“We’ve got a lot of responsibility,” said Anthony.
“Yes, tons of it,” Edward agreed.
“We’ll be responsible, Mum. We’ll take it in turns to feed Thunder and walk him and look after him – for ever and ever. We promise,” I begged.
Anthony and Edward nodded vigorously, agreeing with my promise.
“Please, Mum. Please . . .”
“All right then,” Mum said at last.
“Yippee!”
“Hooray!”
“Not so fast,” said Mum. “I’m still phoning the RSPCA first thing in the morning. If Thunder really has been abandoned then you can keep him, but only if you all keep your promise.”
And we ran and danced and leaped and jumped about so much that by the time we’d finished our clothes were almost dry again!
“Thanks, Mum,” we said, grinning. We all hugged her tight,
tight, tight.
At last, we had a proper pet! A pet that could do a bit more than swim about and eat, which was all our goldfish Bugsy ever did! We had our very own dog called Thunder.
“Welcome to our family, Thunder,” I said.
“You’re going to love it here,” said Edward.
“And we’re going to take such good care of you,” said Anthony.
Thunder raised his head slowly and looked at us. And do you know – I’m sure he smiled!
So once again it was Girl Wonder and the Terrific Twins to the rescue. Isn’t it always!
About the Author
Malorie Blackman has written over sixty books and is acknowledged as one of today’s most imaginative and convincing writers for young readers. She has been awarded numerous prizes for her work, including the Red House Children’s Book Award and the Fantastic Fiction Award. Malorie has also been shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal. In 2005 she was honoured with the Eleanor Farjeon Award in recognition of her contribution to children’s books, and in 2008 she received an OBE for her services to children’s literature. She has been described by The Times as ‘a national treasure’. Malorie Blackman is the Children’s Laureate 2013–15.
Also by Malorie Blackman
The NOUGHTS & CROSSES sequence:
NOUGHTS & CROSSES
KNIFE EDGE
CHECKMATE
DOUBLE CROSS
NOBLE CONFLICT
BOYS DON’T CRY
HEART BREAK GIRL
THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES
TRUST ME
PIG-HEART BOY
HACKER
A.N.T.I.D.O.T.E.
THIEF!
DANGEROUS REALITY
THE DEADLY DARE MYSTERIES
DEAD GORGEOUS
UNHEARD VOICES
(A collection of short stories and poems, collected by Malorie Blackman)
For younger readers:
CLOUD BUSTING
OPERATION GADGETMAN!
WHIZZIWIG and WHIZZIWIG RETURNS
GIRL WONDER AND THE TERRIFIC TWINS
GIRL WONDER’S WINTER ADVENTURES
Coming soon:
BETSEY BIGGALOW IS HERE!
BETSEY BIGGALOW THE DETECTIVE