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Authors: Ailsa Wild

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BOOK: Squishy Taylor and the Mess-Makers
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‘What is she
doing
?’ Vee asks.

‘Lifting the puppy out the window,’ says Jessie.


Um, der
,’ I say, watching the wriggling creature scrabble on the big tree branch. He doesn’t look happy, even though Carmeline is very gentle. She makes sure he’s balanced on a big branch and talks to him quietly.

Then she glances down between the leaves and sees us.

‘Are you all right?’ I ask. (I cannot believe I actually just spoke to Carmeline Clancy!)

She kind of shakes her head, but says, ‘Yeah. It’s just about
Messy
.’

‘Messy?’ I ask, and then realise Messy is the puppy’s name.

‘They want to put him down,’ Carmeline says. It’s like she’s got tears in the back of her throat.

I think about our teacher at school talking about bullying and ‘put-downs’. Then I remember that ‘putting down’ is the animal word for ‘killing’.

Messy is all
trembly
, crouching close to the branch. He looks scared.

‘He’s a stray,’ Carmeline explains. ‘I found him when I first got here and I’ve been looking after him.’

All my sightings of the puppy finally make some sense.

‘Why are you putting him in the tree?’ Jessie asks, before I can.

Carmeline Clancy
half-grins
, but she looks worried, too. ‘I’ve been sneaking him in and out through a side door, but now I’m locked in.’

She looks as though she’s about to follow the dog out the window, but then she’s startled by a noise in the room behind her.

Carmeline Clancy leans down with a frightened face. ‘They’re coming!’ she says. ‘
Look after Messy
.’ She slams the window shut and spins her back to it.

Carmeline Clancy has given us a
mission
and we can’t let her down.

‘Do you think Carmeline’s going to be OK?’ Jessie asks.

If she’s not, it’s our fault.

Messy starts to make little whiny noises.

‘We need to save the puppy,’ I say, trying to untangle Baby’s fingers from my hair again.

Jessie springs into action. ‘I’ll try and get to Carmeline. Vee, you get the puppy,’ she says, then looks at me. ‘You look after Baby.’

Now I wish I didn’t have Baby, but there’s no time to swap.

Jessie
bolts
past the Fancy Men into the hotel. They shout and chase her inside, which is probably good because otherwise they’d be watching Vee.

Vee is scrambling up the tree. Her fingers dig into little holds in the rough bark. She’s like a
spider-ninja
.

I stare upwards as Vee gets higher and higher, wishing it was me.

When Vee reaches Messy’s branch, she stands up and walks along it, one hand on the hotel wall for balance. She offers Messy her knuckles to sniff. He reaches out with his nose and then nuzzles in for a scratch behind the ears. It’s
extra-cute
and makes me feel jealous.

Vee lifts him up against her hip. Amazingly, he doesn’t seem to mind. He knows we’re going to look after him. Vee carries him carefully back to the main trunk.

Her face turns worried as she looks towards the ground, and I realise what the problem is.

There’s
no way
she can climb down with the puppy under her arm.

‘Hang on, Vee, I’m coming up,’ I call. I unclip Baby’s sling from my front and start shrugging my shoulders out of it.

‘You can’t just leave Baby on the footpath!’ Vee shouts.

‘I know,’ I say. I’ve got a plan. I keep Baby close to my body, but
swivel
the sling around so he’s on my back. He kicks his
fat legs
, slowing me down. It’s awkward getting his head under my armpit, but finally I shoulder the sling onto my back.

Vee is straddling the branch like it’s a pony, with her knees gripping tight. Messy is huddled up next to the tree trunk, whining and shivering.

I make sure Baby’s straps are
extra-tight
.

‘You OK, Baby?’ I ask. He’s got his hands in the back of my hair, pulling handfuls and giggling like crazy. I start to climb.

It’s difficult. Baby is heavy and I’m not as good a climber as Vee. My fingers hurt as I grip the bark. Once I get to the first branch, it’s better. I grab it with both hands and swing one leg over. It’s like
monkey bars
, only bigger. I scramble to my feet on the branch, holding the trunk.

I start thinking about Baby on my back. He might be fat, but he suddenly feels small and breakable. I haul myself up to the next branch, even more carefully than before. If I fall, Baby falls with me. Finally I’m standing on the branch underneath Vee and Messy.


Now what?
’ asks Vee.

I stare up at her. We’re two storeys up, with a Baby and Messy. This is as far as my plan went.

‘Pass him down to me?’ I suggest.

Vee, still gripping the branch with her knees, lifts Messy around the chest. As she lifts him, Messy stretches out. His tummy is bare and pink, and his legs seem very long. He looks
so funny
that I would laugh, but I’m too scared for Baby.

I lean my shoulder against the tree trunk, bracing my feet to make them strong, and reach up for Messy.

‘Here, boy. You’re all right. Good dog,’ I say. He’s so soft. I hold him close, burying my fingers in his fur, feeling his frightened trembling.

‘Nice work,’ says Vee, swinging down to join us. She
scrambles
down to the next branch and I pass Messy down to her.

We can do this. It’s easy. We take it in turns to lift the
terrified
puppy down to each other. Baby feels warm against my back and the difference in my balance is starting to feel normal. The lower we get, the less scary it is. I cling to the last branch while Vee jumps to the ground.

I lower Messy towards Vee. This last section of trunk without branches is longer than all the others, and Vee’s arms are too short. The puppy half-falls onto her, knocking her over. She lands on her knees with a thump. ‘
Ow!

The fumble startles me and my foot slips. I reach for the trunk, but it’s not where I thought. My hand scrapes down bark and I
thump
onto my tummy on the branch. I scrabble, trying to hold on. My foot slides into thin air.

Baby.
I can’t land on Baby.

I don’t know which way is up. My hands and legs are gripping. My chin is jammed against the bark. Baby is crying, Messy is barking and Vee is saying, ‘Squishy, hold on!’

I’ve slid all the way round to underneath the branch and I’m holding on with arms and legs, like a
terrified sloth
.

‘What are you kids
doing?

It’s the Fancy Men, running out the hotel door.

My first thought is to let go and drop to the ground, because I don’t want to be rescued by
puppy-killers
.

But I don’t want to break Baby.

Fine. The mean grown-ups can help me down. I cling on, my arms trembling as the Fancy Men run towards us. I care about my Baby that much.

But the men don’t make it to us.

It turns out that Messy, who was terrified of heights, is not terrified of the Fancy Men. The dog plants himself in their path and starts to growl. All the hair around his shoulders stands up like spikes.


Yikes!
’ says one of the Fancy Men, and they slow down.

It gives me the minute I need. I say, ‘It’s OK, Baby. You’re going to be OK.’

I let go with my legs and swing from my arms. I’m too far from the main trunk, so I have to shuffle towards it, one hand at a time. It’s hard because Baby is so heavy and the rough bark hurts my hands, but we make it to the trunk. I grab it and half-hold on, half-slide down it. Vee reaches up and slows me down.

I land on
both fee t
, and Vee catches my shoulders and stops me falling backwards.

When I turn around, one of the Fancy Men has a phone to his ear. Messy is still growling at him.

‘Yes, hello,’ the man says, ‘is this the pound?’

‘No!’ I shout, but before I can say anything else, Carmeline Clancy runs out of the hotel with Jessie beside her.

‘You will
not
call the pound,’ Carmeline Clancy says to the man. He gapes at her and lowers his phone from his ear. Messy runs to her, nuzzling his head against her leg. Carmeline Clancy turns to me. ‘Nice climbing,’ she says.

BOOK: Squishy Taylor and the Mess-Makers
9.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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