Frankie Fish and the Great Wall of Chaos Page 6

  But there was no time for negative thoughts now. Frankie, Drew, Ping and a panting Mei Mei were on a mission to prevent Grandad and Nanna Fish from vanishing without a trace.

  The rescue party marched towards Beijing, sharing more stories and occasionally stopping for a wee behind or, in Mei Mei’s case, on a tree.

  Drew even produced his electric-blue scooter and allowed Ping to take it for a spin. For Ping, seeing the scooter again was like you or me seeing a flying car. Her mouth was agape. ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘His father made it for him,’ Frankie stepped in, before Drew could say he got it online.

  Ping quickly figured out how to ride the scooter and was soon happily whizzing this way and that, with Mei Mei frolicking at her feet. Then suddenly she stopped and clutched her middle, her face pinched with pain. ‘Ooh, my stomach,’ she groaned. ‘It’s really hurting.’

  Frankie tried to think of what his mum would say in this situation. ‘It’s probably because we haven’t eaten in a while,’ he offered. His own stomach rumbled in sympathy.

  ‘Can we get some pizza in the next village?’ suggested Drew. Italian food was his favourite.

  ‘Um, that’s how we say “rice or noodles” in our village down south,’ said Frankie, glaring at Drew. He was pretty sure pizza hadn’t been introduced to China yet.

  If Ping had heard, she didn’t say anything. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and she was holding her stomach. But after a long moment, she took a deep breath and stood up again, wincing. ‘Come on,’ she muttered, handing the scooter back to Drew, who put it back in his backpack. ‘I’m OK but I will just walk.’

  The group headed off once more, a little slower this time.

  ‘So, do you know exactly where the Emperor’s Secret Prison is?’ asked Frankie hopefully as they walked along a winding track towards Beijing.

  ‘Of course I do,’ replied Ping. ‘And then once we rescue your grandparents, you will take us to Jackiechanland, yes?’

  Frankie bit his lip. When would it be the right time to tell Ping the truth? If he told her now, she might not help them finish their mission. But was it fair to let her believe in a place that he’d simply made up? This was the kind of complex moral dilemma usually reserved for adults. Kids were supposed to worry about how much Milo to put in their milk and how much water it takes to fill a perfect water balloon.

  But Frankie and Drew were hardly regular kids anymore. They were time travellers, and with that came great responsibility.

  ‘Yeah, we’ll take you to Jackiechanland after we rescue my grandparents,’ Frankie mumbled.

  He felt guilty lying like this, but what choice did he have? If he didn’t save Grandad and Nanna Fish from the Emperor’s Secret Prison, then his grandparents would simply disappear from the future. Here one minute, gone the next. That’s a perfectly fine way to misplace your hat or a pair of sunglasses, but it would be a horrible way to lose your grandparents.

  If he didn’t bring them back, Frankie realised with a start, the police would probably have to get involved. And that could lead to the discovery of the Forbidden Shed, and even worse, the Sonic Suitcase, whose hologram would be shimmering on the Charging Bench. Imagine if the Sonic Suitcase got into the hands of the police, or even the government!

  Frankie had seen enough conspiracy movies to know that not everyone in the government was trustworthy. It would only take one super-villain with a fancy cat and an interesting facial scar getting their grubby hands on the Sonic Suitcase – and then complete and utter chaos would break loose.

  Frankie’s heart skipped a beat. They had to get cracking. He knew it wasn’t just the future of the Fish family that was at risk. It was the safety of the entire world.

  By the time Frankie and the gang had arrived in Beijing, Ping was looking as green as a frog on St Patrick’s Day. She rubbed her tummy and moaned as Mei Mei licked her sympathetically.

  Ping’s tummy pangs had come and gone over the last couple of hours, but they reappeared with a vengeance as the kids arrived in Beijing. Frankie knew just how she felt – they were all in desperate need of a feed.

  ‘Let’s find something to eat,’ he suggested.

  Drew licked his lips, but of course there wasn’t a pizza or gelato in sight. Soon, however, they found a market, where makeshift food stalls lined the street. Skinned pigs hung off hooks along with half-plucked, lifeless chickens, their feet tied up like little bunches of flowers.

  ‘Next time, can we time-travel to Italy, please?’ Drew whispered to Frankie.

  They came across a monk standing on a street corner, calmly stirring a pot. Ping pointed him out. ‘I remember this monk. He is kind. He shared his food with me before. He was the one who explained the symbol on my necklace.’

  ‘What’s he cooking?’ Frankie asked. It smelt good.

  ‘Tofu noodle soup,’ Ping said.

  Frankie had never tried tofu because his dad said it was for hippies. But right then Frankie was so famished he would’ve eaten anything.

  The monk smiled at them and said something in Mandarin. Ping translated his words: ‘Are you children hungry?’

  The three kids nodded quickly.

  The monk handed each of them a bowl and pair of chopsticks, and then gave Ping a pat on the shoulder. Before Drew could ask if he had any forks, Frankie ushered him away to a dusty patch of ground and sat down.

  Despite the fact their feet were sore and their bums were dusty, Frankie and Drew slurped up the noodles like vacuum cleaners that loved their jobs. They even gobbled down the chunks of tofu, and did a surprisingly decent job of using the chopsticks. Ping was having more trouble with her meal, but it had nothing to do with the chopsticks. She took a few small slurps, wincing painfully. Finally she set her bowl down for Mei Mei, who ate it all excitedly.

  Frankie burped happily and rested his empty bowl on the Sonic Suitcase, noticing as he did that the charge was down to thirty-nine per cent. He slapped his hands on his legs. ‘OK, time is really running out now,’ he said. ‘Ping, now that we’re here, we need to know: where exactly IS the Emperor’s Secret Prison?’

  A strange look came over Ping’s face, and she squirmed uncomfortably. Was her tummy still bothering her, or was it something else?

  ‘Come on, Ping,’ said Drew Bird impatiently, not noticing that half a noodle was hanging off his chin. ‘Tell us where the Secret Prison is.’

  ‘Um, well … you see …’ Ping stopped and started like an old lawnmower in winter.

  ‘Spit it out, Ping,’ Frankie said, as the noodle fell from Drew’s chin. Mei Mei leapt upon it.

  ‘I – I – I don’t know!’ cried Ping, burying her head in her hands.

  ‘What?’ Frankie and Drew yelled in unison. Mei Mei pricked her ears up in alarm, the noodle dangling from her mouth now.

  ‘I don’t know where the Secret Prison is!’ Ping cried through her hands.

  Frankie leapt to his feet. ‘How could you not know?’

  ‘Because it’s a SECRET prison! How could I know?’ Ping said hotly, before adding something that sound an awful lot like one of those Mandarin swear words.

  ‘Because you said you KNEW! That’s why we risked our necks rescuing this ball of fuzz,’ Drew protested.

  Mei Mei barked huffily.

  Frankie couldn’t believe it. He’d trusted Ping. He’d helped her rescue Mei Mei. And all along she’d been deceiving him. In a fit of rage, he shouted at Ping, ‘Then I guess I should tell you there is NO Jackiechanland!’

  Ping looked stunned. Mei Mei looked stunned too. (And also a bit silly, as she still had that noodle swinging from her muzzle.)

  ‘What?’ gasped Ping.

  ‘We made it up and you were dumb enough to believe us,’ Frankie barked angrily.

  He glared at her, feeling like a mixed lolly bag of emotions. There was guilt when he saw the devastated look on Ping’s face – she had obviously believed Jackiechanland was real. And he felt fear, too. The Sonic Suitcase’s battery was
ticking down all the time, and he was starting to worry again that they really were doomed on this mission.

  But the emotions he felt most strongly were anger and hurt at being betrayed by Ping.

  ‘But if you’re not from Jackiechanland, then where are you from?’ Ping whispered, her voice trembling.

  ‘Come on, Drew.’ Frankie stood up in a dramatic huff. ‘We don’t need the help of a thief and a liar.’

  Drew stared at Frankie with a shocked expression. For a moment, Frankie wasn’t even sure if his best friend would come with him. But of course Drew had to – if he ever wanted to get back home and eat pizza again. ‘I’m sorry,’ Drew whispered to Ping. He patted Mei Mei and stood up, hefting his backpack over his shoulder.

  Mei Mei whimpered sadly, but Ping refused to look at them.

  Gripping the Sonic Suitcase tightly in one hand, Frankie tramped away with Drew in his wake, leaving their two Chinese friends behind in a patchy circle of dust.

  Frankie stomped along like he was trying to win an Angry Marching Contest. His breathing was heavy and his cheeks felt hot.

  ‘So where are we going?’ Drew asked.

  ‘I have no idea,’ snarled Frankie.

  Drew gave him a serious look, like he could tell that Frankie was either about to lose it, or had already lost it.

  ‘You know,’ Drew offered quietly, ‘my mum always says that if I think I'm about to make a bad decision, I should close my eyes and take three slow, deep breaths.’

  ‘But you are the King of BAD Decisions,’ snapped Frankie.

  ‘That’s because I always ignore my mum’s advice,’ Drew said with a shrug. ‘But do you think maybe we should try it now?’

  Frankie stopped and turned to his best mate in surprise. This was a very un-Drew Bird thing to say.

  ‘But Ping is a liar and a thief,’ said Frankie hotly, still not quite able to let go of his anger.

  ‘Well, you LIED to Ping about Jackiechanland,’ Drew pointed out. ‘And you stole that bottle from the Texan twins, didn’t you?’

  Frankie began to wonder if the monk’s tofu noodle soup had some kind of mystical transforming powers, because he had NEVER heard Drew Bird sounding so calm and so reasonable.

  Frankie groaned. ‘OK, fine, Mr Sensible,’ he muttered. ‘Let’s close our eyes and breathe.’

  ‘On the count of three, OK?’

  ‘Whatever.’

  They both counted out loud – ‘One, two, three,’ – before shutting their eyes.

  On the first breath, Frankie still felt mad.

  On the second one, he felt a little better.

  And by the third slow, deep breath, Frankie felt all the tightness in his chest start to melt away. He and Drew opened their eyes and looked at each other.

  ‘Whoa,’ said Drew. ‘I should listen to my mum more often.’

  Frankie agreed, and instantly decided on three things.

  1. He and Drew would listen to their mums from now on every single time (probably).

  2. He would eat more tofu noodle soup when he got home.

  3. He would forgive Ping and Mei Mei, and ask them to continue on their adventure with them.

  Then another thought occurred to Frankie. A really bad one.

  Was it his fault Ping was sick?

  Maybe the animal shortbreads from the future were too much for her olden-days tummy. Maybe their modern ingredients, like sugar and white flour, had triggered poor Ping’s tummy pains. After all, Frankie’s mum was always telling him that ‘sweet crappy junk food’ (her words) would make him sick. Maybe she was right!

  ‘We have to go back to Ping,’ Frankie announced. ‘Immediately.’

  Despite the three breaths, Drew looked nervous. ‘Um, are you sure?’ he asked. ‘After all, you’re right. Ping is a liar. I never really believed her story about learning a whole second language from a book. I mean, come on!’

  The effect of the tofu noodle soup had clearly worn off Drew, but Frankie wasn’t listening. It was like a THUNDERBOLT had struck right in the middle of his brain. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the connection before.

  ‘That’s it!’ Frankie shrieked. He turned and ran back the way they’d just come, closely followed by a completely dumbfounded Drew Bird.

  By the time Frankie got back to Ping, she was crouched over, a sheen of sweat across her forehead.

  ‘Ni hao!’ Frankie beamed.

  Ping looked up, confused. ‘What do you want?’ she grimaced.

  Frankie knelt beside her. First things first: he had to apologise. ‘Ping, I’m sorry I got so mad at you,’ he said.

  Ping bit her lip, her face softening. ‘I – I shouldn’t have lied about knowing where the prison is. But I really wanted to help. And I’m sure I can find it.’

  Frankie smiled at her. ‘I know you can. Friends again?’

  Ping nodded. ‘Yes. Friends.’

  ‘Phew!’ said Frankie, relieved. ‘Now, I have a question for you: do you still have that book you used to teach yourself English?’

  Ping nodded towards her bag, which was lying on the ground. Frankie reached in and pulled out a battered English-Mandarin dictionary. Written on the inside cover in familiar handwriting were the words: Property of Mavis Fish.

  Another piece of the mystery fell into place.

  ‘I knew it!’ Frankie said to Ping in wonder. ‘This belonged to my nanna.’

  Frankie knew he needed to take the book with him. One of the first rules of time travel was never to leave anything behind, and a book with modern words and dates and addresses in it could prove disastrous. He gently placed the dictionary in Drew’s backpack.

  ‘But Ping said she got that book three years ago. That doesn’t make sense,’ Drew hissed, as Ping winced in pain. Her stomach-ache was clearly getting worse.

  Frankie’s brain whirred. ‘Grandad and Nanna must have time-hopped!’ he muttered to Drew.

  Drew wrinkled his nose. ‘What?’

  ‘That’s when you jump around quickly in time,’ said Frankie. ‘Nanna is interested in lots of different parts of Chinese history, so my guess is she convinced Grandad to visit them all. He should know better, though. Time-hopping is a very bad idea.’

  ‘So why would your grandad allow it?’ Drew asked, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Nanna can be very convincing,’ Frankie said. ‘Grandad would go skydiving from a rocket ship if she asked him to.’ He turned to look at Ping. ‘Was my grandad there too?’ Frankie asked her. ‘He’s a grumpy-looking old guy with a hook for a hand.’

  Ping swallowed, her expression pained. ‘I can’t remember. I’m sorry …’

  Frankie patted Ping’s shoulder, feeling worried. He could see she was really struggling. Mei Mei nuzzled her, whimpering.

  ‘My nanna is a nurse,’ Frankie told Ping. ‘She’ll be able to help you when we find the Secret Prison.’

  ‘But I don’t know where the Secret Prison is, remember?’ groaned Ping.

  ‘We’ll find it together,’ Frankie replied, trying to sound like he believed it.

  When Ping’s tummy was feeling a little better again, the trio made their way through the unpaved streets of old Beijing with Mei Mei. They darted between carts pulled by oxen, around men in silk gowns holding delicate paper umbrellas, and past glossy-haired young women who laughed and talked together. No-one seemed to take any notice of them, even though Frankie and Drew were clearly out of place.

  Frankie, Ping and Drew were frantically looking for a clue; anything that could lead them to the Emperor’s Secret Prison. Occasionally Ping would ask a passerby for help, only to have them laugh or yell at her with words unfamiliar to Frankie and Drew’s Western ears.

  Just as they were all about to give up hope –

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  – they heard something go BANG.

  It seemed to be coming closer. A moment later, loud popping noises added to the chaos.

  ‘Firecrackers!’ Ping said in surprise.

  Around the corner came
someone banging on a drum, accompanied by two ferocious-looking dragons – one yellow, the other red. Drew tensed for a moment, but these were giant puppets, controlled by large wooden sticks underneath the colourful material. They looked very similar to the dragon puppets Frankie had seen in the city during Chinese New Year celebrations.

  Suddenly Ping cried, ‘This could be it!’

  ‘This could be what?’

  ‘Our chance!’ said Ping excitedly. ‘On certain days, the Emperor’s two favourite dragons are sent out into the streets. They dance around a group of prisoners to ward off evil spirits.’

  Frankie felt a surge of excitement. Maybe they were closer to finding Grandad and Nanna than he’d thought!

  Just like the local kids around him, Frankie stood on tippy-toes, watching as the yellow and red dragons twisted and turned through the street. Unlike the locals, however, Frankie wasn’t paying much attention to the dragons. He was looking out for the group of prisoners. Maybe Nanna and Grandad would be among them, although he was slightly worried about how they’d react if they spotted him.

  The thing was, he and Drew were now wearing what in modern times might be mistaken for silk dressing gowns.

  ‘This is what Mum wears to bed!’ Drew had moaned as he’d slipped on the blue outfit Ping had ‘borrowed’ from a nearby vendor. ‘Couldn’t we wear ninja outfits?’

  ‘Stop complaining!’ Ping ordered, tying a small rope around his waist for a belt.

  ‘Ninjas are Japanese,’ Frankie pointed out. He found his own yellow silk outfit very comfy. ‘You look cool, Drew. I bet your mum’s dressing gown doesn’t have a fire-breathing dragon embroidered on the back.’

  As the yellow dragon puppet danced its way towards Frankie, he caught his first glimpse of the prisoners. Chained together by their feet and hands, they were walking – with some difficulty – alongside the dragon.

  Frankie’s eyes darted around, hoping to see either (but preferably both) of his grandparents. There was a mix of Chinese and Western prisoners, men and women, but Frankie couldn’t see Alfie or Mavis Fish anywhere.