Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Charlie Moore detective.


 
“Want to come out to play Betty?” I asked.
  “I’m not in the mood, Charlie.” She said.
  “Ask Harold, he likes to play outside when it’s cold and wet.  I prefer to be warm.” Betty was a spider who didn’t like the snow.  She usually stayed at home when went skiing.

That day the snowflakes were slowly falling to the ground, like pieces of cotton. It was a perfect day to play outside and get wet.  I put on my ski pants and a parka. I slid on a pair of socks and my rubber boots, found my fuzzy toque and gloves and asked Betty if she was in the mood to play in the snow. 


It was getting late and it would not be long before my Dad got home.  Mom was cooking supper.
  “Mom, I’m going out to play with Harold.” I called to the kitchen.
  “Don’t be late and stay close to home Charlie Moore, Dad will be home for dinner soon,” she replied.  I ran to the front door with Harold chasing me.  I slammed the door and ran, sliding and jumping in the snow. It was getting dark but the huge white flakes and the street lights made it appear lighter.  The street lights were shining yellow and I could smell the cedar trees.

Jeremy and Jack, from across the street, were out making snow balls.  When they saw us they started shooting balls. We avoided them by dodging from one side to the other.  I don’t like to have fights with snow balls and I don’t like to get hit by them.  They hurt!  We ran down the street to Margaret’s house.  She was outside playing in the snow with a red plastic shovel.
  “Hi Margaret, what are you doing?” I asked.
  “I’m making a princess castle, do you want to help me, Charlie Moore?” I looked at Harold and asked him what he preferred to do, play with Margaret of get into a fight with the guys across the street.
  “I’d rather play with Margaret than fight with those kids.  I would, however, like to go for a walk in the park.  Ask Margaret if she wants to come with us,” said Harold. 
I like how Harold talks.  He is a short, small doggie and he speaks like a grown up with a pipe and a book.

  “Harold wants to go to the park, would you like to come with us?” I asked Margaret.
  “How do you know that Harold wants that?” she asked as she gave me the look and crossed her arms over her chest.  Typical Margaret. Margaret who was in my class liked to sit in the front and always raised her hand to speak in the class.  I sit in the middle, by the window to watch what was going on outside.

  “He just told me! So... do you want to come with us?”  I said.  She dropped the shovel and with a smile came along.  We walked slowly over the slippery white carpet.
  “Now Charlie Moore, tell me how is it that you know what Harold wants,” grilled Margaret.
I looked at her, proud of myself.
  “Charlie, watch out on what you say to her,” said Harold.
  “I can talk to Harold” I said to Margaret.
  “Betty, my spider friend told me that I could,” I continued.
  “Betty...? A spider friend...? Came on Charlie Moore, have you been watching too much TV?” teased Margaret.
  “Yep, Harold and I talk” I said in a quiet confident voice.
  “Charlie, there is a man entering the Wood’s house!” Harold barked.  I looked across the street towards the Wood’s.  I could see the backyard door from the Wood’s closing behind a shadow.     

Mr. and Mrs. Wood was a nice older couple who lived on the other side of the street from us.  Mrs. Wood often gave me cookies that she baked.  She liked to talk to me.  She gave me small jobs and paid me with five dollar bills.  They were away to visiting their daughter who lived in another town.

  “Margaret, somebody went in the Wood’s house.  Let’s go check.” I said.
Margaret looked at me making a face like she couldn’t believe me.
  “Come on Margaret, come with us!” I shouted as we ran across the street.
  “Don’t make noise Charlie,” Harold cautioned.


There were footprints in the snow leading to the backdoor.  I noticed that Margaret was following us at a safe distance. Lowering ourselves closer to the ground we reached the door that was slightly open, enough for us to slide in.  Harold was in front of me, his ears perked up. A noise of broken glass came from the kitchen. 
  “Go for help!  Someone has broken into the house. I will start barking. Hurry Charlie, make lots of noise” and he turned towards the kitchen door and started barking.

I ran onto the side walk closely followed by Margaret and shouted at the top of my lungs. 
  “Help! Help! A thief is in the Wood’s house!” 
Margaret jumped back, scared.
  “Go tell your Mom!” I commanded her. 
  “Someone has broken into the Wood’s home.  Call the police!” I ran to the neighbour’s front door and started knocking and ringing the bell, Mr. Chang opened the door.
  “Mr. Chang, someone has broken into the Wood’s house.  We need help.  Call the police!” I screeched breathless and excited. 
Margaret was at her house talking to her Mom and Dad, Mr. Fraser. Her Dad took longs steps towards the Wood’s house.  He was a very big man who I always was a little afraid of.

As soon as Mr. Chang saw Mr. Fraser walking towards the Wood’s he start going there too.  Lou-Anne, her daughter who was also in our class came out and watched from the door. Harold was still barking at the back of the house.  I ran to Mr. Fraser who was close to the Wood’s door. 
  “He broke in from the back” I shouted, running to the back door. Mr. Fraser ran behind me, along with Mr. Chang. Mr. Fraser passed me and entered the Wood’s kitchen.  He flicked the light on as Mr. Chang was coming in. I picked up Harold in my arms.
“Thank you Charlie, I am so cold and tired of barking.” He rubbed his face in my chest.

A few minutes later Mr. Fraser dragged the thief out by his neck.  The thief looked shaken up and afraid.
  “Look what I have here Charlie!” Mr. Fraser said still holding the ogre-faced scared thief.
  “This one will never step foot in this neighbourhood again!” he shouted in the man’s ear.  I was afraid too and so was Harold.


As we walked out the back yard, the blue lights of the police car shone over the fence. A big policeman showed up in the backyard, grabbed the thief from Mr. Fraser and put him in handcuffs.  They started talking amongst themselves saying grownup things.  I went to Mr. Fraser and told him not to forget to fix the broken glass in the kitchen door. He gave me that spooky look and I ran home.

  “Mom! Mom! You have no idea what happened across the street.  Harold saw a thief breaking into the Wood’s.  Mr. Fraser got him and the police are there now!” I said as I dried Harold with the towel.
The doorbell rang. I opened the door and the big policeman was standing there.
  “Are you Charlie Moore?” he asked.
  “Yes I am and who are you?” I asked.
  “I am Constable Prett. I want you to tell me what happened at the Wood’s house tonight”.

  “Well...” I started.
  “I was walking to the park with Harold and Margaret when Harold told me that someone was entering the Wood’s back yard...”
  “Who is Harold?” the constable asked.
  “Harold is my dog.  Haaarold...” I called.  
  “Nice dog,” the Constable said stoking Harold’s head with his huge hand.
  “OK.  So Harold noticed someone going into the Wood’s and you picked up?” he said.
  “No, he just told me that someone was going into the backyard of the Wood’s.”
  “Haaaaa... I get it.  Your dog can talk, is that right?” said the Constable.   
  “Exactly.  You can talk to him too?” I said wishing he would. 
He gave me that grownup look that I often see.  How come they don’t get it, I wondered? I wanted to say “Yes I can talk to Harold and to almost all of the other animals around as well.”

Mom was standing behind me. 
  “Charlie talks to Harold,” Mom said to the Constable.
  “Do you get it?” she asked with a smile on her face.
They were talking this language that they think I don’t get.  Wuuaa!
I understand... no imagination...

1 comment:

  1. Charlie Moore has many interesting adventures! Very thought provoking for me and takes me back to times as a kid, riding my bike in the neighborhood or climbing fences into yards that were not my own - looking for adventure, something new, getting into a little mischief! You have cleverly remembered similar events, created similar events, combined it all. Thank-you for sharing Charlie Moore - I think the Charlie Moore stories would make a good movie or chapter book or books.

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