Krindlekrax Read online

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Immediately Ruskin reached out, grabbed hold of the medal and hurled it into the crocodile’s mouth.

  The medal stuck at the back of Krindlekrax’s throat.

  Krindlekrax closed its jaws and stared at Ruskin.

  It didn’t move.

  Ruskin got to his feet.

  It had started to rain now and there was the sound of distant thunder. Raindrops landed in Krindlekrax’s eyes, giving the impression of tears.

  Although, of course, the medal was very small in Krindlekrax’s throat, it was obviously causing a lot of discomfort.

  Krindlekrax started to cough, trying to dislodge it.

  Ruskin stood in front of Krindlekrax and tapped it on the nose with his walking stick.

  ‘Don’t you like the medal in your throat?’ asked Ruskin.

  Krindlekrax just stared.

  ‘Open your mouth,’ Ruskin said. ‘Open your mouth and I will take the medal away.’

  Slowly, Krindlekrax opened its mouth.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  ‘Listen to me first, Krindlekrax,’ continued Ruskin. ‘If I do this, you must never threaten Lizard Street again.’

  Krindlekrax slowly nodded.

  Ruskin stepped over the bottom row of Krindlekrax’s teeth, and crawled into the soft, pink mouth.

  It was like entering a cave full of steam, like when Wendy left the kettle boiling and the kitchen got hot and damp.

  Slime dripped from the roof of the mouth and trickled down Ruskin’s neck. The slime was thick and very sticky, like marmalade.

  Despite the sticky slime and the slippery tongue, Ruskin found it oddly comforting in the mouth of Krindlekrax. It smelt of toast and reminded him of home.

  Ruskin dislodged the medal from Krindlekrax’s throat and crawled back out of the mouth, clutching the medal in his hands.

  ‘Now go back to the sewer!’ exclaimed Ruskin. ‘Lizard Street is full of my friends and I don’t want you threatening them.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Slowly, Krindlekrax turned around and started to walk back down Lizard Street towards the drain.

  Ruskin watched it go, saying, ‘Mr Lace is my friend because he gave me coloured pencils.’

  Krindlekrax started to climb down the drain.

  Its head disappeared.

  Ruskin said, ‘Mrs Walnut is my friend because she gave me chocolate biscuits.’

  The front legs of Krindlekrax disappeared.

  ‘Dr Flowers is my friend,’ said Ruskin, ‘because he gave me a handkerchief.’

  The belly of Krindlekrax disappeared.

  ‘Mr Flick is my friend,’ said Ruskin, ‘because he gave me a photograph.’

  The back legs of Krindlekrax disappeared.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Cave are my friends,’ said Ruskin, ‘because they gave me some cherryade.’

  The tail of Krindlekrax disappeared.

  ‘And Elvis and Sparkey are my friends,’ said Ruskin, ‘even if they don’t want to be.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  The street was empty except for Ruskin and Elvis.

  There was a crack of thunder and lightning, and the rain suddenly poured down.

  It felt cool and refreshing and Ruskin stared up at the sky and let the rain splash over his face.

  Then Ruskin looked at the pub sign.

  Eeeek!

  ‘And Corky is my friend,’ said Ruskin, rain bubbling between his lips, ‘even if he’s not here any more.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  And, as Ruskin said this, so the rain washed away the peeling paint of the sign, erasing the baby crocodile.

  Ruskin glanced at Elvis.

  ‘You can stay out in the rain,’ he said. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  Ruskin put the drain cover back on the drain, then went into his house and up to his bedroom.

  He got into bed and closed his eyes.

  The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Elvis trying to bounce his football in the rain.

  Da-splash-boinggg!

  Da-splash-boinggg!

  Da-splash-boinggg!

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  ‘Wake up!’

  Ruskin opened his eyes to see Wendy standing beside his bed with a plate of toast and a cup of tea.

  ‘I’ve been trying to wake you for ages,’ Wendy said, putting the tea and toast on Ruskin’s bedside table. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Fine, thank you,’ replied Ruskin, eating the toast.

  ‘You’re not going to stay in bed again?’ his mum asked.

  ‘Certainly not,’ Ruskin said, jumping out of bed. ‘It’s a beautiful day.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Wendy. ‘It rained during the night and it’s a lot cooler now.’

  Ruskin sipped some tea, then said, ‘Besides, it’s the school play today. I want to see how Elvis plays the hero. You know, Elvis is still my friend, even though he doesn’t want to be.’

  ‘That’s what you were saying in your sleep,’ Wendy said. ‘You were saying Elvis is your friend and Mr Flick is your friend and …’

  She was interrupted by someone knocking at the front door.

  ‘Who can that be?’ asked Wendy nervously. Then added, ‘Polly-wolly-doodle-all-the-day.’

  Winston poked his head round the bedroom door.

  ‘We’ve got a visitor,’ he said.

  ‘They’re knocking on the door very loudly,’ Wendy said nervously.

  ‘It’s not my fault,’ said Winston.

  ‘Oh, stop it, you two!’ cried Ruskin, pushing past them and rushing down the stairs. ‘Why are you so nervous about everything?’

  Ruskin opened the street door and found Mr Lace on the doorstep.

  ‘Oh, a tragedy beyond words!’ exclaimed Mr Lace, running his fingers through his hair and sucking a pencil.

  ‘What’s happened?’ asked Ruskin.

  ‘Elvis was sleepwalking in the rain last night,’ cried Mr Lace. ‘He’s caught a terrible cold and can’t do the play any more. You’re the only person who knows the lines!’ Mr Lace grabbed Ruskin’s hands and squeezed them tightly. ‘Please play the part,’ he begged. ‘We need you.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ said Ruskin casually. Then, looking back at Wendy and Winston who were hiding at the top of the stairs, called, ‘Get dressed, you two! You’re coming to school to see me do a bit of acting.’

  ‘Oh, polly-wolly –’ began Wendy.

  ‘Stop saying that,’ interrupted Ruskin firmly.

  ‘It’s not my …’ began Winston.

  ‘Stop saying that,’ interrupted Ruskin even more firmly. ‘Just get to school. I’m going to be a hero.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  The whole of Lizard Street came to St George’s Main Hall to see the school play.

  Ruskin and Mr Lace stood behind the makeshift stage curtain at the front of the hall and peered through a crack at the assembled crowd.

  Ruskin was holding a plastic shield and sword.

  ‘Are you nervous?’ asked Mr Lace, sucking a pencil.

  ‘No,’ replied Ruskin.

  ‘Not at all?’

  ‘No,’ Ruskin said. ‘Why should I be? I told you before. I was born to be a hero.’

  Mr Lace put his arm round Ruskin’s shoulder and squeezed.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Mr Lace.

  Beside Ruskin was the cardboard-and-chicken-wire dragon. Ruskin looked up into the red milk-bottle tops of its eyes.

  ‘Let’s do battle!’ he said.

  Mr Lace rushed to the side of the stage and pulled open the curtains.

  A few people in the audience gasped when they saw Ruskin dressed as the hero. One or two of them were even tempted to laugh. But as soon as Ruskin spoke, all that changed.

  As soon as he started his performance, everyone believed he was the hero. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind. They sat there, eyes wide, mouths open, totally captivated by the magnificence of Ruskin’s acting.

  At the part in the play
when Ruskin jumped on the back of the dragon and cried out, ‘Oh, you terrible monster. You scary thing of the dark. You will scare us no more. I am not afraid. I have tamed you and now I am your master,’ people in the audience clapped and cheered.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  When the play was over, Ruskin was given a standing ovation.

  Mr Lace lifted Ruskin into the air and cried, ‘A hero!’

  Everyone patted Ruskin on the back and said how wonderful he was.

  People came up to Wendy and Winston and spoke to them.

  ‘Your son is such a good actor,’ said Mrs Walnut. ‘I don’t think anyone could have done it better.’

  ‘Certainly not,’ agreed Mr Flick. ‘He’s our little star.’

  ‘A star absolutely,’ said Dr Flowers. ‘I never knew he … TISHOO! … had it in him.’

  Even Mr and Mrs Cave came over and remarked how good Ruskin was.

  ‘You must come to the pub and have a chat,’ said Mr Cave, putting his arm round Winston’s shoulders. ‘We don’t see enough of you.’

  Mrs Cave said, ‘You must be proud of your son.’

  ‘We are!’ said Wendy. ‘He wants to be an actor and act in plays by Shakesp–’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that name!’ cried Mr Lace, tears springing to his eyes.

  Everyone laughed and vowed they would try not to say ‘Shakespeare’ in the presence of Mr Lace again.

  Ruskin watched everyone talking and laughing and having a good time when –

  ‘Ruskin!’ said a voice.

  Ruskin turned to see Sparkey Walnut standing beside him. Sparkey looked very bashful and shuffled from side to side.

  ‘Hello, Sparkey,’ Ruskin said. ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Very well,’ replied Sparkey, staring at the floor. ‘I’m glad you’re out of bed.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ruskin. ‘I felt very ill for a while, but everything’s all right now.’

  ‘Your acting was brilliant,’ remarked Sparkey. ‘I was so excited when you were fighting the monster. I cheered and clapped along with all the others.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ruskin.

  ‘Do you think …?’ began Sparkey, and then his voice broke off and he looked away.

  ‘Say it,’ said Ruskin.

  ‘Do you think we could be friends again?’ asked Sparkey.

  ‘We never stopped being friends,’ said Ruskin.

  Suddenly everyone in the hall heard a noise.

  Da-boinggg!

  Smash!

  Da-boinggg!

  SMAAAASH!

  People stopped talking and looked out of the window.

  Elvis was in Lizard Street. He was smashing every window in sight and screaming, ‘I WANTED TO BE THE HERO! I WANTED TO BE THE HERO!’

  Ruskin stamped his foot.

  ‘I’m going to stop this smashing once and for all,’ Ruskin said.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  Ruskin marched out of the hall, down the stairs, across the playground and into Lizard Street.

  Wendy and Winston and all the other people of Lizard Street stayed in the hall. They knew how dangerous Elvis could be when he was in one of his window-smashing moods.

  Ruskin marched up to Elvis.

  Elvis was wearing his pyjamas with the padded shoulders and his helmet with a visor. His nose was very red because of his cold and he smelt of medicine.

  ‘You!’ cried Elvis, pointing at Ruskin. ‘You stole my part! You take everything from me.’ And he bounced the ball.

  Da-boinggg!

  It smashed Mr Lace’s window, landed in his living room, bounced out through another window, and landed in Elvis’s hands.

  ‘There’s not going to be any glass left in Lizard Street by the time I’m finished,’ growled Elvis. ‘I’m going to break Mr Lace’s windows and Mrs Walnut’s windows and –’

  ‘No you’re not,’ said Ruskin calmly.

  Elvis glared at him. ‘You silly little Splinter,’ he growled. ‘You can’t stop me. I’m big and you’re small. I’ve got muscles and you’ve got none. My voice is deep like thunder and yours is –’

  ‘Oh be quiet,’ said Ruskin. ‘I’m fed up with you. You’re so … so wild. Too much wildness is boring. I’m going to tame you and make you interesting again.’

  And, with that, Ruskin snatched the ball from Elvis’s hands.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  The people of Lizard Street – who were still watching from the school-hall window – gasped.

  Ruskin took the pin that had been attached to Corky’s medal from his pocket, raised it in the air, then stuck it into the ball.

  Air gushed from the puncture. The ball whizzed out of Ruskin’s hands and flew round Lizard Street in circles.

  It whizzed up into the air.

  Whizzed past the people at the school-hall window.

  Past the pub.

  Past Mrs Walnut’s shop.

  Past Dr Flowers’s house.

  Past Mr Flick’s cinema.

  Past Corky’s old house.

  Past Mr Lace’s house.

  Then it hovered in front of Ruskin’s house for a while, before falling into the drain and out of sight.

  The people at the window cheered.

  Elvis stared at the drain.

  He listened to the people of Lizard Street cheering.

  Then he looked at Ruskin. ‘I had a dream last night. I … I remember now. And, in this dream, you … you saved me somehow. Saved me from … something. I don’t remember how or what … but …’ And his voice began to quiver and break. ‘No one likes me,’ he said softly. ‘No one … no one …’

  Then he fell to his knees and started to cry.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  ‘I … I never wanted to grow this tall,’ wept Elvis. ‘I hate it. Why did it have to happen? All I wanted was to stay small like you and Sparkey. Why did things have to change? I don’t want these muscles, I don’t want a voice like thunder. I want to play on the swings and eat lots of ice cream and … and have people tell me how cute I am. But they don’t. They … they think I’m grown up. But … but I’m not. And I don’t want to be.’

  Elvis was crying so much he could barely speak now. ‘And I wanted to be friends with Corky. But he liked you … more than he liked me … and he … he bought you a ball … He bought it for you –’

  ‘No, Elvis!’ interrupted Ruskin. ‘He might have given it to me, but it was meant for all of us. Corky wanted all of us to play together. But you … you got jealous! When Corky spoke to me, you … you stormed off.’

  ‘You were talking about theatre stuff,’ sobbed Elvis.

  ‘So?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that.’

  ‘You didn’t try, Elvis. Did you?’

  ‘… No.’

  ‘So you stole the ball.’

  ‘… Yes,’ said Elvis softly. Then he added, ‘I’m … I’m sorry, Ruskin.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  The people of Lizard Street had left the school by now and were standing round Ruskin.

  They all stared at Elvis.

  ‘I miss Corky,’ said Elvis, wiping tears from his face. ‘I miss hearing his broom sweep the playground.’

  Ruskin helped Elvis to his feet.

  ‘We all miss him,’ said Ruskin. ‘But we don’t have to break glass.’

  ‘Can we … be friends again?’ asked Elvis.

  ‘We always have been,’ replied Ruskin.

  Elvis and Ruskin hugged each other.

  The people of Lizard Street cheered.

  Ruskin looked at them and said, ‘I used to think that Lizard Street was the cracked pavement and the dark bricks and the road with holes in. But it’s not! Lizard Street is me, and my mum and dad, and Elvis, and Sparkey, and Dr Flowers, and Mr Lace, and Mr Flick, and Mrs Walnut, and Mr and Mrs Cave, and – even though he’s not here – Corky Pigeon.’ And then, in the loudest voice he could muster, he cried, ‘I LOVE YOU, LIZARD STREET! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU!’
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br />   1964 Born on 29 December in the East End, London

  1981 Exhibits a drawing (of a crow!) at the ICA in London

  1984 Studies painting at Saint Martin’s School of Art

  1989 Publishes his first children’s novel Mercedes Ice, followed by Dakota of the White Flats

  1991 Krindlekrax is first published by Jonathan Cape, and wins the Smarties Book Prize

  1992 Receives the Evening Standard Theatre Award for Most Promising Newcomer to British Film and Most Promising Playwright. Wins the Critics’ Circle Most Promising Playwright Award for The Fastest Clock in the Universe

  1993 Krindlekrax wins the WH Smith Mind-Boggling Book Award

  1994 Meteorite Spoon is first published by Viking Children’s Books

  1995 Kasper in the Glitter is published and nominated for the Whitbread Prize

  1997 Scribbleboy is published and is shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal

  1998 Zinderzunder is published

  2000 Vinegar Street is published

  2002 The stage play adaption of Krindlekrax opens at the Birmingham Repertory Theatre, and Mighty Fizz Chilla is published and nominated for the Blue Peter Book of the Year Award and the Carnegie Medal

  2005 Zip’s Apollo is published

  2012 What’s On Stage names Philip Ridley a ‘Jubilee Playwright’ (one of the most influential British writers to have emerged in the past sixty years)

  * Phil writing his first book!

  Interesting Facts

  Philip Ridley is not just a children’s writer: he’s also written several books for adults, many stage plays for the theatre and a number of poetry collections. He’s also an artist and a film-maker, as well as an accomplished photographer.

  Philip once worked as a DJ in a nightclub, and worked in Bethnal Green Library in the East End of London, a betting shop and a pie and mash shop.

  Philip suffered very badly from asthma as a child, so he spent a lot of time at home, in bed, creating the fantasy worlds that later developed into his creative work. He still has asthma, but it’s a lot better now!