Free Frankenkids by Annie Graves Page A

idea,’ Derek whispered, crouching behind Jake.

    Another white flash lit up the garden as Jake turned to face his older brother.
    He could see how scared Derek was and that made him braver.
    Older brothers aren’t supposed to be frightened easily. Derek was a wuss. He was worse than a wuss – he was a total wimp.
    Just as Jake was about to say, ‘Maybe you’re right, let’s get out of here,’ Pamela erupted into life inside the house.
    The boys fell silent as the sound of flapping, crashing, shouting and meowing became louder and louder.
    Inside the house, Uncle Fraser was laughing like a maniac as Pamela’s parrot parts started to flap, sending feathers in all directions.
    Then the monkey tail started to swing.
    And the cat legs began to kick.
    Finally, the rest of Pamela’s body, made up of a local tomcat, kicked into life, bouncing around Uncle Fraser’s living-room/laboratory.
    Pamela toppled bottles and overturned tables as it jumped and flapped and half-flew, meowing and hissing, around the room.
    Uncle Fraser chased it, calling it to him.

    Pamela didn’t stop.
    It flap-jumped through the open window.
    Of course, you should not knowingly leave a window open while you are trying to bring a dead pet to life. Or bits of several dead pets.
    Uncle Fraser knows that now.

    Jake and Derek were still crouching in the driveway of Uncle Fraser’s house.

    They watched the cat-monkey-parrot flap and mewl as it scuttled up the side of the house, until it reached the roof.
    Uncle Fraser, hanging out the open window, called out, ‘Pamela! Pamela, come down!’
    The boys watched in silence.
    â€˜Here puss, puss, puss …’ Uncle Fraser went on. ‘I have a banana!’
    Pamela was not interested in bananas.

    â€˜Pamela!’ Uncle Fraser called again in desperation, waving his arms, before disappearing back inside the house.
    Jake turned to Derek, smiling. ‘Did you see that?’
    Derek’s face was pale and his mouth was open. He didn’t say anything.
    His eyes were fixed on the roof of the house. His eyes, in fact, were fixed on Pamela, who was curled up on the chimney.
    â€˜Did you see that?’ Jake asked again.
    Derek still didn’t say anything. Drool was starting to flow from the corners of his mouth.

    Jake gave up trying to talk to his older brother and turned back to the house.
    He could see Pamela too, its body curled round the chimney pipe, its cat tongue licking the monkey paws on its back legs.
    â€˜Awesome,’ Jake said, skulking closer to the house.
    Derek didn’t move.

    Somewhere between leaving his drooling brother and getting closer to the house, Jake had an idea.

    Like many ideas that are hatched on a cold, dark night outside the house of a known mad scientist, it wasn’t a very good one.
    Jake decided to climb a tree that was just outside Uncle Fraser’s house.
    At the very top of this tree were branches that reached Uncle Fraser’s roof.
    And on that roof, as we know, was a chimney. A chimney with a cat-monkey-parrot curled up on it.

    Jake climbed fast, racing to reach Pamela before it jump-flap-climbed away.
    I’m not certain that Jake had thought any of this through.
    I doubt if he was planning on giving Pamela back to Uncle Fraser once he had caught it.
    I don’t imagine he had any idea what he would feed a parrot-monkey-cat once he got it home. (Cold minced beef with peanut butter and chocolate banana mice maybe?)
    What is certain is that Jake hadn’t realised the house was so old. (That’s a nice way of saying it was falling down.)

    Jake reached the top of the tree, shimmied out along the branch and stepped onto the roof.
    Almost instantly, the thick black tiles began to slide out from under his feet, falling and smashing on the drive below.
    Jake was in serious danger of falling through the roof.
    Or sliding right off, down onto the driveway.
    Either way, it was going to