CHAPTER ELEVEN

SECOND TIME LUCKY?

Jonny emailed the Sibling Swap offices when he got home to tell them that Mervyn had gone away to sea and to ask for a new brother. He soon got an email back from one of the Swap operatives.

‘Good news, Swapper! We have a perfect match for you. We’re sure this Swap won’t flop! He will arrive at 6 p.m.’

‘Six p.m.?’ said Jonny. ‘That’s two hours away. I better get ready!’

Then he realised that he didn’t really know what getting ready involved, so he went and had a little nap instead. His best friend, George, popped in after that, and the two boys drank some milk together in the kitchen.

‘How’s the new brother going?’ George asked, looking a tiny bit anxious. ‘Has he arrived yet?’

‘Been and gone, I’m afraid,’ said Jonny. ‘Loved your uncle’s fish fingers, though. Ate millions of them!’

‘Good!’ said George. ‘I’m sure I can get you some more. He’s still got a massive load of them at his warehouse. I’m using it now for one of my projects, and there are freezers stuffed with fish fingers there.’

‘Nah, you’re OK,’ said Jonny. ‘I’m over fish fingers. Ooh, is that the time? You’d better go, George. I’ve requested another brother from Sibling Swap. He’ll be here soon.’

‘Can I meet him?’ George asked.

‘Soon,’ said Jonny, ushering George out of the kitchen and opening the front door. ‘Once he’s settled in.’

‘OK, but let me know how it’s going, won’t you?’ said George.

‘Yeah, yeah, sure,’ said Jonny. ‘Bye!’

Then 6 p.m. arrived. The doorbell rang, but when Jonny opened the door there was nobody there. Well, nobody on the front step, anyway. There was, however, a tall, skinny boy with small dark eyes standing on Jonny’s garden wall, looking eagerly up and down the street. His arms were hanging down in front of his body, his fingers pointing neatly towards the ground, and his nose was twitching busily.

‘Hello? Were you sent by Sibling Swap?’ Jonny asked the boy.

The boy just squeaked and then half ran, half pounced into the house.

Different, thought Jonny. But different can be good!

He found the boy in the kitchen, standing on a chair, staring out of the window.

‘Not much of a view, I’m afraid,’ said Jonny. ‘Just the back of the houses on the next street. What’s your name?’

The boy squeaked again, jumped down and showed Jonny a tag which was hanging around his neck.

It said, simply, HARI.

‘Hari,’ said Jonny, pronouncing it ‘Harry’.

Squeak squeak. The boy looked irritated.

‘Hah-reee?’ Jonny tried again.

The boy squeaked, then ran happily around the room on all fours.

‘Nice one!’ Jonny said, watching him. ‘I did put on my form that I like messing about, after all, so you’re bang on there. Can I join you? What are we pretending to be? Badgers? I do a great badger impression. Ted hates it! You’d never catch him leaping about like this in full animal mode. Wow, you’re good, but check this out!’

Jonny sprung down on all fours and the two boys scampered about for a while, until Jonny sat down on the floor, puffing.

‘Do you want a drink, Hari?’ he asked the boy, who so far had said nothing. But Hari didn’t seem to be listening. He’d spotted a daddy-long-legs butting itself pointlessly against the ceiling. Quick as a flash he pounced, caught it in his mouth and began munching. One long insect leg poked out. It seemed to be waving at Jonny. This is taking pretending to be an animal a bit far, he thought. It was straying into flat-out weird territory.

‘What are you?’ Jonny asked, staring. Hari rubbed his cheeks with his hands, like a creature cleaning its whiskers, then came and stood next to Jonny. He stood really close and really straight, huddling against his new brother.

‘Are you a human cat?’ Jonny asked. ‘A weasel kid? A badger boy?’

Hari wouldn’t look at him. He just stood there, pressed against him, surveying the room. Then Jonny had an idea. He ran upstairs and grabbed his encyclopaedia of animals from his bookcase. Back in the kitchen, he began flicking through it.

‘Dugongs and manatees, no; great cats, no; lemurs, no,’ said Jonny, flicking quickly. ‘Hang on, maybe you are a lemur, or, I mean, pretending to be one?’

He showed a picture to Hari, who squeaked twice.

‘What does that mean? No or yes?’

Hari began scratching his ear with his foot.

‘Let’s test this out. We need to find a way to speak,’ said Jonny. ‘Hari! Your name is Hari, right?’

Hari squeaked a single squeak.

‘So one squeak is yes, and two is no,’ said Jonny. ‘Are you a lemur?’

Hari squeaked twice.

‘Fine. Not a lemur,’ said Jonny, continuing to flick through the pages. ‘Elephant shrew?’

Two squeaks.

‘European hamster?’

Two squeaks.

‘Crested porcupine? Grey climbing mouse? Botta’s pocket gopher?’

Two more squeaks, then Hari grabbed the book, flicked through it rapidly and passed it back to Jonny.

‘Meerkat!’ shrieked Jonny. ‘Of course! All that standing up straight. It says here, ummm, yes, here we go: “One animal in the group stands on guard as sentinel.” That’s you! You’re on guard, aren’t you?’

One squeak.

‘I get it!’ said Jonny. ‘Or do I?’