FURRY SOFT THINGS
“Since nobody’s owned up we’re going to have to do a bag inspection,” Miss Strickland announced tiredly.
The class groaned. Bethany’s electronic pet had disappeared again, the second time in a week. She sat slouched at her desk, her face red from crying.
“It’ll die if we don’t find it soon!” she had cried desperately just after they’d come in from morning tea, so Miss Strickland had made everyone sit quietly at their desks while she tried to work out what had happened to it this time.
“Even though I know last time I said it was going to be the last time I’d waste time looking for a toy,” Miss Strickland said, “ now is definitely the last time I’m going to waste time looking for a toy. From now on electronic pets are banned.”
Bethany’s eyes widened with horror.
“Find somebody else to look after it while you’re at school,” she added, sounding more than a little irritated. “Now, everyone outside, get your bags and open them on your desks. Quickly.”
The class groaned again and chairs scraped as everyone stood up.
“You too, Bethany,” Miss Strickland said. “And if I find it in your bag there’s going to be trouble.”
Bethany dragged herself outside after the others.
“Good one, Bunky Beaver,” Tiffany said, pulling her bag from the port racks.
“You’re dead,” Joshua said.
Miss Strickland stepped outside. “Hurry up everyone. I don’t want it to take all day.”
“I wonder who’s taken it,” Isaac said, pulling his canvas bag out from under a pile of others.
“Beats me,” Tom said. “I thought Bethany was the only one who still liked them. She’s probably left it somewhere and forgotten, like last time.”
“Yeah,” Isaac agreed. “At least we’re getting out of maths.”
Tom grinned.
They returned to the classroom and tossed their bags onto their desks.
“Now as I come around I want all of you to open your bag for me,” Miss Strickland said. “And if anything bites me, watch out.”
The class laughed.
The teacher started at the front and moved quickly from one bag to the next. Bethany bit her bottom lip, waiting expectantly for the thief to be revealed.
Isaac opened his bag and peered inside. He grimaced.
Tom looked across. “Yuck, your bag’s a dump. What do you have in there?”
Isaac really didn’t know. It had been yonks since he’d cleaned it out. “Treasure,” he said.
“Okay Isaac, your turn,” Miss Strickland said.
Isaac opened his bag wider and Miss Strickland peered inside. She pulled a face. “Oh, Isaac, when was the last time you cleaned this out?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know, Miss.”
“I hope your room is tidier than this.”
“Not really.”
The teacher reached gingerly inside and poked around.
“Ah, what’s this?” she said.
Isaac held his breath, but relaxed when he saw a crumpled note in his teacher’s hand instead of an electronic pet.
“Isaac, this note should have gone home three weeks ago,” she said, straightening it out.
“It did, Miss,” Isaac said quickly. “And then it came back again.”
Tom giggled and Isaac jabbed an elbow into his ribs.
“Well, when it goes home today take it out this time,” Miss Strickland said, and dropped it back into the bag. “I wonder what else you’ve got hidden away in there. Last year’s report card?” She began to rummage around more vigorously.
“Maybe,” Isaac said.
“Ooh, what’s this?” she said, lifting out an egg-shaped object covered in soft, green fur.
Isaac studied it on the palm of her hand. “Um, I think it’s one of the kiwi fruits Mum gave me for lunch a few weeks ago.”
“Oh,” Miss Strickland said, and dropped it hurriedly back into the bag.
The class laughed.
“That’s gross,” Tiffany called out.
Miss Strickland wiped her hand on her jeans. “Your bag is disgusting, Isaac. If there’s an electronic pet in there it has definitely died and gone to electronic pet heaven by now.”
Bethany gasped.
“Make sure you clean it out this afternoon. I’ll check it tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, Miss,” Isaac said.
The teacher moved onto Tom’s bag.
When Isaac got home he decided to clean his bag out straight away before he forgot. He went to his room, closed the door and tipped it out onto his bed.
“Hey, that’s where my Pokemon cards went to,” he said, picking up a pile of wrinkled cards wrapped in a rubber band. He dropped them with the rest of the stuff on his desk, then grabbed a plastic bag and began throwing out all of the old parent notes, mouldy sandwiches and lunch wrappings. He was about to throw out the letter Miss Strickland had found too, but decided he’d better give his mum at least one, just in case she went to a parent-teacher meeting and the question was asked. He threw that onto the desk as well.
He had just about picked out all of the paper when he noticed the kiwi fruit poking out from under the edge of his homework folder.
“There you are,” he said, picking it up carefully. It was soft and squishy, like one of those bags filled with rice they used to use in grade one for throwing and catching practice. Unlike a bean bag though, the soft green fur around it made it almost cuddly. Was it mould? Isaac sniffed it, but it didn’t smell off or even musty like mouldy things usually did. He remembered the ham sandwich that he’d left in his desk for a whole term. It had gone really mouldy, but it didn’t look a bit like this kiwi fruit did.
He found a shoebox under his bed and placed the kiwi fruit inside, then returned to the rest of the pile on his bed. It was considerably smaller now. He straightened out his homework folder and hung his swimmers and towel over his chair.
As he picked up his lunch box he suddenly spotted some more green fur.
“Hey, another one,” he said. He picked up the kiwi fruit and rolled it around on his hand. It looked identical to the first, egg shaped and covered in a soft mat of green fur. “How about that!” He quickly searched the rest of his stuff, but didn’t find any more.
“I found a friend for you,” he said as he dropped the second kiwi fruit into the shoebox.
He balanced the box on the growing pile on his desk.
This bag cleaning exercise was turning out to be fun.
After dinner he did his homework in front of the TV, then he watched a video, and it wasn’t until nine thirty that he was finally sent to bed.
When he switched on the light the first thing he saw was his much thinner bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. He smiled with satisfaction. Miss Strickland would be impressed. The second thing he saw was the pile of kiwi fruit on his desk. His jaw dropped.
“Wow,” he breathed.
There would have been more than twenty there, piled in his lunch box and scattered amongst the other stuff on his desk. A couple had even rolled onto the floor.
“Wow,” he said again, hardly believing what had happened. He picked one up and rolled it on his hand. It felt like a normal overripe kiwi fruit. He studied the rest. They were all identical, egg shaped and covered in a mat of soft, green fur.
“Where have all you guys come from?” he wondered. “Mum!” he called. “Mum!”
“What is it, Isaac?” his mother’s voice came from the lounge room downstairs.
“Come and look at this!”
“What?”
“Come and look at this.”
His mother poked her head around the door of his bedroom. “What is it, Isaac?”
“Look,” Isaac said, and pointed at the kiwi fruit.
His mother frowned. “What are they?”
Isaac picked one up and held it close. “They’re kiwi fruit,” he said.
“But they’re hairy!” his mother exclaimed.
&n
bsp; “I know, and they’re breeding!” Isaac said, feeling both excited and slightly worried at the same time.
His mother sniffed. “Did you drag me all the way up here for this?”
“It’s not a joke!” Isaac said. “Honest.”
“Put them away and go to bed,” his mother said. “I’ve had enough of your practical jokes. Breeding kiwi fruit. Now I’ve heard them all.”
“But it’s not a joke,” Isaac persisted. “They’re breeding!”
“Go to bed, Isaac,” his mother said, and walked away.
Isaac threw the kiwi fruit onto the floor in frustration. It rolled under the bed.
“Mothers,” he hissed.
He found another plastic bag and picked up all of the fruit. There were twenty-seven of them and they almost filled the bag. He put the bag on the floor and then got ready for bed. Just before he turned out the light he looked at the bag again, but nothing seemed to have changed. Maybe they’d done everything they were going to do. He lay down and tried to get to sleep, and when he finally did his dreams were full of giant kiwi fruit with huge teeth trying to eat him.
“Are you awake, Isaac?” his mum called through the bedroom door early the next morning.
“Yes Mum,” he grumbled, and pulled the sheets over his head.
“Hurry up then. I want to get to work early today. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”
“Yes, Mum,” Isaac said.” He pushed the sheets away from his face and yawned. Was it morning already?
He sat up and was about to swing his legs out of the bed when he noticed the kiwi fruit. He gasped. They were everywhere! His bed was an island in the middle of green, furry, soft things. They covered the floor in a thick layer and rose up against the walls, and they were vibrating gently as they continued to multiply.
“Mum!” Isaac yelled. “Mum!”
There were running footsteps along the hall and the doorknob twisted.
“What’s wrong, Isaac?” his mother called. She pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t open because of the kiwi fruit behind it. “Unlock the door.”
“It is unlocked!” Isaac yelled.
His mother pushed harder, but the door wouldn’t budge.
“What’s wrong, Isaac? Why won’t the door open?”
“Mum, it’s the kiwi fruit. They’ve filled up my room!”
His mother stopped pushing on the door. “Isaac!” She sounded annoyed.
“It’s true! They’re everywhere! Get me out!”
“Open the door,” he mother demanded. “I’ve had enough.”
“I can’t.”
“Open the door!”
Isaac grimaced and stepped onto the vibrating mat of kiwi fruit. They were cool and soft and he felt them squish under the soles of his feet. “Yuck,” he groaned.
“Hurry up, Isaac,” his mother said impatiently.
Isaac tried to walk, but couldn’t, so he got to his hands and knees and crawled over them instead. But even that was difficult. Around him the pile of kiwi fruit continued to vibrate gently as they multiplied, and by the time he reached the door they had almost reached the knob. Isaac turned it and pulled, hard.
“It won’t open,” he said.
“I’ll push and you pull,” his mother said. “Come on.”
Isaac grabbed the knob again and pulled with all of his strength. His mother pushed.
The door opened a crack.
Suddenly Isaac’s hands slipped and he fell back into the fruit. “Argh!” he cried.
“Isaac!” his mother yelled. “What going on in there?”
Isaac sat up, feeling the fruit squash under his behind and soak into his pyjamas. “It’s the kiwi fruit!” he said. “They’re filling up my room!”
His mother pressed her eye to the crack in the door.
“Isaac,” she demanded. “Where did you get them all from?”
“I didn’t get them from anywhere!” Isaac yelled. “They’re breeding! They’re filling up my room! Get me out of here!”
“Let’s try the door again,” he mother suggested. She was beginning to sound worried. Isaac pulled on the doorknob and his mother pushed, but the door wouldn’t budge.
“It’s no use, Mum,” Isaac said, letting go. “There’s too many of them holding the door shut.”
He looked across the room to where the sun shone brightly through the gap in the curtains.
“Mum, maybe I can get out of the window,” he suggested.
“The window?” his mother said. “Don’t do anything silly.”
“No, I won’t. Do we have a ladder?”
“No.” There was a pause. “Maybe the neighbours do. Wait near the window.”
“Okay, Mum.”
Isaac heard her footsteps hurrying away. He sniffed and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his pyjamas. He looked around. “Yeah, right,” he said. His bed had disappeared under the sea of green and only the top of the bookshelf showed above his desk.
He began to crawl slowly over the fruit. He could feel them squishing under his palms and knees. Juice soaked his pyjamas.
By the time he had reached the window, the kiwi fruit had risen over the sill and were pressing against the glass. Isaac felt around for the catch, then he swung the window open. There was a sudden waterfall of kiwi fruit into the garden below.
Old Mrs Jenkins from next door was standing at the fence. She looked rather stunned. Isaac waved. “Hello, Mrs Jenkins!”
More kiwi fruit plopped into the ferns.
Just then his mother and Mr Jenkins came around the house. Mr Jenkins had a large stepladder under his arm.
“Are you all right?” Isaac’s mother called up to him.
“Yes,” Isaac replied.
Mr Jenkins’ looked almost as surprised as his wife when he saw the kiwi fruit dropping out of the window. “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” he muttered.
He lifted up the ladder and leaned it against the house. It ended a few feet below Isaac’s window.
“It’s too short!” Isaac called.
“Wait a minute,” Mr Jenkins said. He untied a rope on the side of the ladder and pulled. The top of the ladder began to rise. “Tell me when it’s high enough!” he shouted up at Isaac.
“Okay!” Isaac shouted back.
Kiwi fruit began to rain more heavily from the window. One splattered wetly on the top of Mr Jenkins’ head.
Mr Jenkins cursed.
Isaac laughed.
The top of the ladder continued to rise slowly under the battering of fruit.
“Stop!” Isaac yelled as the top of the ladder reached the windowsill.
Mr Jenkins tied off the rope and stepped back. He wiped a few globs of kiwi fruit from his head and shoulders. “Be careful, son,” he said. “It’s slippery.”
Isaac looked at the ladder and gulped. It was a long way down to the garden.
“Hold on tight,” his mum suggested. Mrs Jenkins stood beside her still looking stunned.
“Just take one step at a time,” Mr Jenkins advised.
Isaac knew that already. He sat on the sill, held the side of the window frame and swung around so that his legs hung outside. His pyjamas were soaked and stained green. Kiwi fruit pulp dropped from his legs and feet into the garden far below.
“Here I come!” he shouted.
“Be careful!” his mother shouted.
“I will!”
Isaac stepped onto the second rung from the top. He took another step down, then carefully let go of the window frame and grabbed the top of the ladder. He could see his mother looking up at him anxiously.
“That’s right, son!” Mr Jenkins called reassuringly. “Just take it nice and slow, one step at a time.”
Isaac bit his bottom lip in concentration and carefully stepped down again. His feet were slippery with kiwi fruit pulp and the constant rain of fruit from above distracted him.
He took another step, then another.
“Be careful, Isaac,” his mother said, hand
s to her cheeks.
“That’s right, son,” Mr Jenkins said.
Isaac took another step. He was going to make it, he just knew it. He grinned.
But as he stepped down again, he stood on a particularly large glob of fruit, and his foot slipped from the rung. He grabbed the ladder to steady himself, but his hands were slippery and couldn’t grip, and he fell down into the growing pile of kiwi fruit at the bottom of the ladder.
“Isaac!” his mother screamed.
Some time later Isaac woke up. He lay in a bed covered in crisp white sheets. In the distance he could hear voices and trolleys rattling. His head hurt.
“Hello Isaac,” his mother said, smiling. She was holding his hand.
“Where am I?” Isaac groaned.
“Hospital, dear,” his mother said.
“Hospital?” He tried to sit up.
“No dear, lie down,” his mother said, pushing him gently back to the pillow. “You’ve hurt your head.”
Isaac pulled an arm from under the sheets and felt the bandage around the top of his head. “How did I do that?”
“You hit your head when you fell from the ladder this morning,” she said. “You were lucky.”
In a rush the morning’s events all came back. “The kiwi fruit!” he said.
“Calm down dear,” his mother said. “They’re being cleaned up right now. Everything happened rather quickly once Mr Jenkins got onto the phone.”
“Were they surprised?” Isaac asked.
His mother grinned. “They sure were. I think every emergency service in the city was there. We’re going to be on the news tonight.”
Isaac’s eyes opened wide. “Really?” He paused. “What’ll they do with all the kiwi fruit?”
His mother shrugged. “I don’t know. Just before I left with the ambulance an army truck arrived. I’m sure they’ll think of something to do with it.”
“Yeah. Maybe a new weapon or something,” Isaac said wickedly.
His mother rolled her eyes. “Well, I think you’re going to be back to normal soon,” she said.
Isaac was allowed to leave the hospital the next morning, but it was a few days before he and his mother were allowed to move back into their house.
When they moved back in it was as though nothing had happened. There was no trace of kiwi fruit to be found, not even a stain. Whoever had cleaned up had done a really good job.
Isaac was meant to go back to school the following Monday, and he thought he was ready. But by the time Monday morning arrived he didn’t want to go. He was too embarrassed.
“Wear a hat,” his mother suggested.
Isaac shook his head.
“You’re going to school, like it or not,” his mother said firmly. “Find a hat.”
When his mother dropped him off at the front gate, he felt like running away and hiding, but by the time the bell went he’d told his story at least a dozen times and he felt almost like his normal self again.
“Did Bethany get her electronic pet back?” he asked Tom as they were lining up ready to go in.
“Yeah,” Tom said. “She’d left it at home.”
“Air head,” Isaac said.
Miss Strickland stepped out of the classroom and the class quietened.
“Welcome back, Isaac,” she said, smiling. “How do you feel?”
“Okay,” he said.
“Good,” Miss Strickland said. “Forward in, everybody.”
As Isaac tried to walk past her to go inside, she held him back.
“Are you forgetting something, Isaac?” she asked.
“Um, no, I don’t think so, Miss,” he said.
“Your hat.”
Isaac gulped. “Oh, I have to keep this on, Miss, because of my head injury,” he said quickly.
“Do you have a note?”
“No, Miss, but I’ll get one tomorrow.”
Miss Strickland sighed. “You know the rules, Isaac. No hats inside. Anyway, beanies aren’t part of the school uniform.”
Isaac was desperate. “But, Miss, I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“The doctor said so.”
“The doctor said you had to wear a beanie to school because of your head injury?” the teacher asked incredulously.
Isaac could tell that she didn’t believe him.
Suddenly, Joshua, who was standing behind him, grabbed the pom-pom at the top of the beanie and jerked the hat from his head.
“No!” Isaac screamed.
Miss Strickland gasped and the kids behind him laughed when they saw the dense mat of green fur covering the top of his head.