To Be A Cat

Cat Pancake

HERE’S SOME ADVICE:

If you ever become a cat – and it’s more likely than you might imagine (there’s about a one in 5,000 chance, according to the latest estimates) – don’t think about things too much.

What I mean is, don’t think, How can I purr? because then you won’t purr. And certainly – certainly – don’t think, How do cats run? because then you’ll struggle. Just as Barney struggled, running along Marlowe Road, trying to find the right paw rhythm – front left, back right, front right, back left – trying to stop his head from hitting the pavement.

And all the time he was watching himself – his body, his hair, his school bag – get further and further away from him. By the time Barney had stopped wondering, How do cats run? and actually ran, cat-style, it was too late.

The Barney-Who-Wasn’t-Barney had disappeared behind the crowd of school kids at the bus stop. A crowd that included Gavin Needle.

‘Oi, Willow!’ he was shouting at the boy he thought was Barney. ‘Where are you going, you freak?’

Then Gavin stopped, looked down at Barney. The real one. The furry, four-legged version.

‘Isn’t that—?’ said another voice. One of Gavin’s cronies.

Barney didn’t have time to run away, because suddenly there was a massive knock to his stomach, as if a rowing boat had swung into him. But it wasn’t a boat. It was a boot. Gavin’s boot. And Barney heard cruel laughter as he flew into the air, landing on the road.

Barney froze. A car was speeding towards him. But the only part of Barney that moved were his claws, clinging to the tarmac as the car drove directly over him, its tyres missing him by a whisker.

And then Gavin said something to Barney. Something like, ‘What are you doing here?’ He might have added a swear word somewhere too, but Barney wasn’t listening properly. He was too busy looking to see where his clone had got to, but he couldn’t see him. There were traffic lights and crossroads, but it was impossible to know which way this other Barney would have gone.

Straight on, into town? Left down Coleridge Road, the road which the bus took to school? Or right, heading towards the park along Friary Road?

He had no idea.

Then another voice from the pavement. Rissa, breathing heavily: ‘Watch out!’

She had run after the Barney-Who-Wasn’t-Barney, and now she was at the bus stop with all the others.

Barney turned.

The school bus was heading straight for him, pulling in at the side of the road, its two left tyres right on track to kill him.

The driver hadn’t seen him. Because he was too busy concentrating on his breakfast. He was eating a chocolate bar, as he did every morning.

Cat pancake.

Barney froze, petrified. The noise of the bus was louder than anything he’d ever known.

I’m going to die.

And he really did believe that would be his final thought.

But it wasn’t.

Because he was still thinking – mainly about the human hand under his stomach, sweeping him fast into the air – as the side of the bus slid past his face.

That was too close.

For a moment Barney wondered whose hand it was, but then he realized he could feel the cool metal of Rissa’s rings and, sure enough, he heard her voice in his ear.

‘What are you doing, cat? You were nearly killed.’

She pulled him off her shoulder, looked him straight in the eye.

I’m not a cat, he tried again. Rissa, I’m Barney.

This time, just for a second, Barney thought she understood. A glimmer of recognition shone in her eyes. But the glimmer disappeared, like the sun behind a cloud, and she placed Barney down on the pavement.

‘Don’t go on the road. It’s very, very dangerous,’ she said. ‘Buses and cats don’t get on very well. In fact, they’re pretty much incompatible. Remember that.’

Gavin kicked me onto the road. I couldn’t help it.

She stood up, followed the other Blandford High pupils onto the bus.

Wait.

Barney tried to think. There was no way he was going to catch up with the Barney-Who-Wasn’t-Barney. And there was no point going home to a closed door. Even if the door wasn’t closed, his mum would just throw him out again. Even if she didn’t, Guster would still try to kill him.

Which left—

Rissa.

She was his best hope right now. After all, she’d just saved his life.

So, without thinking much more about it, he padded towards the bus, hid behind the last pair of human legs – Rissa’s – and jumped on board.