Danny was jumpy.
âStop making that noise !â snapped Josh as they waited at the gate. Danny was making a peculiar screechy-scrapey noise through his teeth. He was trying to learn to whistle. He only managed to sound like a rusty bike chain. A chain being repeatedly dragged against a tin tray.
He didnât pay Josh any attention.
âWill you stop it!â Josh whacked his lunch box against the back of Dannyâs head. His twin glared at him. He rubbed his spiky blond hair.
âI canât help it. Iâm nervous!â Danny muttered, eyeing the car at the curb. The car that would take them to school this morning. Mom couldnât drive them in today. Their next-door neighbor, Petty Potts, was giving them a ride. She was just getting her bag from the house. Soon they would be going.
Josh stared at the car too. He felt that his brother had some cause to be jumpy. Pettyâs car was so old that it was actually made of wood . The back half of it looked like a chunk of old boat. The dark green leather seats inside were like furniture from a museum. Piddle, their terrier dog, was cocking his leg against one of the back wheels.
âIt canât be legal to drive this around on regular roads!â hissed Danny. Petty emerged from her gate with a large open-topped woven straw bag in her hands. âI meanâdo you think sheâs even got a license?â
âCome along, you two. Hop in,â said Petty. She opened the door. She tipped forward the front passenger seat so they could get into the back.
âOh, get away from my tires, you nasty leaky creature!â She glared at Piddle. He grinned up at her doggily. Then he shot back into the yard and up the side passage where they heard Mom shutting the gate.
Petty tutted and went around to the driverâs door. She was in her brown raincoat. She was wearing her usual tweedy hat, pulled down low over her glasses. She looked exactly like someone should look driving such an ancient wreck, thought Danny. He made a face at Josh. They clambered in across the bouncy cracked leather seat. It also smelled like a museum.
âWhere are the seat belts?â asked Josh looking left and right.
âItâs a classic car, Josh,â said Petty. She ground the gears as the engine coughed into life. âThey didnât always put in seat belts back in 1966. Just hang on tight. Iâm not going to crash.â She turned around and put her bag in between them on the seat. She creased her face into what she probably thought was a reassuring smile.
Petty Pottsâs reassuring smiles never really worked somehow. Danny grabbed on to a little leather strap above the window. He narrowed his eyes at her.
Josh did the same.
âOh, for heavenâs sake, you two!â she huffed. She turned back and started to drive up the road in a lurching fashion. âYou might have a little faith in me. Iâm not going to kill you!â
Danny and Josh raised identical eyebrows at her in the rearview mirror. Petty had never tried to kill them, true. But she had certainly brought them closer to a bizarre and grisly death than any other grown-up they knew. Theyâd stumbled into a secret underground laboratory hidden beneath her garden shed. And theyâd come close to being crushed, drowned, splatted, pecked hollow, swatted, mummified, and eaten. More times than they wanted to remember. Petty might look like a nice old biddy, but she was the genius inventor of SW.I.T.C.H. spray. It could change you into a creepy-crawly with just a few squirts. Josh and Danny had already been transformed into spiders and flies. And that was really quite enough.
Naming her Serum Which Instigates Total Cellular Hijack âS.W.I.T.C.H.â made it sound rather fun. And it was. If you didnât mind getting eaten, drowned, turned into soup, or splattered with a giant sandal.
âAny more side effects from your housefly adventure?â Petty called
âStop making that noise !â snapped Josh as they waited at the gate. Danny was making a peculiar screechy-scrapey noise through his teeth. He was trying to learn to whistle. He only managed to sound like a rusty bike chain. A chain being repeatedly dragged against a tin tray.
He didnât pay Josh any attention.
âWill you stop it!â Josh whacked his lunch box against the back of Dannyâs head. His twin glared at him. He rubbed his spiky blond hair.
âI canât help it. Iâm nervous!â Danny muttered, eyeing the car at the curb. The car that would take them to school this morning. Mom couldnât drive them in today. Their next-door neighbor, Petty Potts, was giving them a ride. She was just getting her bag from the house. Soon they would be going.
Josh stared at the car too. He felt that his brother had some cause to be jumpy. Pettyâs car was so old that it was actually made of wood . The back half of it looked like a chunk of old boat. The dark green leather seats inside were like furniture from a museum. Piddle, their terrier dog, was cocking his leg against one of the back wheels.
âIt canât be legal to drive this around on regular roads!â hissed Danny. Petty emerged from her gate with a large open-topped woven straw bag in her hands. âI meanâdo you think sheâs even got a license?â
âCome along, you two. Hop in,â said Petty. She opened the door. She tipped forward the front passenger seat so they could get into the back.
âOh, get away from my tires, you nasty leaky creature!â She glared at Piddle. He grinned up at her doggily. Then he shot back into the yard and up the side passage where they heard Mom shutting the gate.
Petty tutted and went around to the driverâs door. She was in her brown raincoat. She was wearing her usual tweedy hat, pulled down low over her glasses. She looked exactly like someone should look driving such an ancient wreck, thought Danny. He made a face at Josh. They clambered in across the bouncy cracked leather seat. It also smelled like a museum.
âWhere are the seat belts?â asked Josh looking left and right.
âItâs a classic car, Josh,â said Petty. She ground the gears as the engine coughed into life. âThey didnât always put in seat belts back in 1966. Just hang on tight. Iâm not going to crash.â She turned around and put her bag in between them on the seat. She creased her face into what she probably thought was a reassuring smile.
Petty Pottsâs reassuring smiles never really worked somehow. Danny grabbed on to a little leather strap above the window. He narrowed his eyes at her.
Josh did the same.
âOh, for heavenâs sake, you two!â she huffed. She turned back and started to drive up the road in a lurching fashion. âYou might have a little faith in me. Iâm not going to kill you!â
Danny and Josh raised identical eyebrows at her in the rearview mirror. Petty had never tried to kill them, true. But she had certainly brought them closer to a bizarre and grisly death than any other grown-up they knew. Theyâd stumbled into a secret underground laboratory hidden beneath her garden shed. And theyâd come close to being crushed, drowned, splatted, pecked hollow, swatted, mummified, and eaten. More times than they wanted to remember. Petty might look like a nice old biddy, but she was the genius inventor of SW.I.T.C.H. spray. It could change you into a creepy-crawly with just a few squirts. Josh and Danny had already been transformed into spiders and flies. And that was really quite enough.
Naming her Serum Which Instigates Total Cellular Hijack âS.W.I.T.C.H.â made it sound rather fun. And it was. If you didnât mind getting eaten, drowned, turned into soup, or splattered with a giant sandal.
âAny more side effects from your housefly adventure?â Petty called
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