Mystery Box



  Mystery Box

  Copyright 2014 Jane Fountain

  Mystery Box

  Harry’s head hit the desk with a thump. It was so loud that the normally stone deaf Miss Winterbottom instantly looked up and glared his way. Oh crap, thought Harry. She peered over the top of her textbook fixing him with an icy stare.

  ‘Well... it’s nice of you to join us. I can see that geometry has your undivided attention this morning.’ The rest of the class sniggered and looked his way. He could feel his cheeks burning red.

  ‘Yes Miss.’ said Harry, rubbing the small lump rapidly appearing on his forehead. ‘Sorry I was listening it’s just...’

  ‘Never mind your excuses young man, take yourself outside and stand in the corridor. Maybe you should consider getting to bed earlier so you can stay awake in my class!’

  ‘Maybe you should consider not being such a boring old windbag,’ muttered Harry under his breath as he stomped past the desks to the door.

  ‘I beg your pardon Harry Watson, do you have something to share with the rest of the class?’

  ‘No Miss Winterbottom,’ he smiled, picking his way between bags and rucksacks strewn all over the floor. Podgy Parker sneered at him as he brushed past.

  ‘Serves you right Watson, and while you’re out there you can think about all the ways I’m gonna rearrange your face at recess!’

  ‘Yeah right Podgy...you and whose army?’ Harry replied, kicking the leg of his chair which made the other boy’s flabby face wobble like a bowl of pink blamange.

  Once outside Harry propped himself up against the wall and took a deep breath. God, why is school so boring he thought? Sighing, he reached into his bag to check his timetable and groaned loudly as he remembered his next lesson was Home Economics.

  ‘Oh great...this day just keeps getting better and better.’

  Suddenly the shrill sound of the school bell belted through the PA system and hordes of grey uniforms rushed by him in a blur. Podgy Parker shoved past, his chubby legs trying in vain to keep up with the rest of the class. Harry dawdled behind, scuffing his feet and yawning loudly. Two hours listening to Mrs Holden banging on about self-raising flour and baking powder was going to take an almighty effort. But still, that would take him to lunch and hopefully another quick kip in the library.

  ‘Right everyone, find a spot and sit down,’ gestured Mrs Holden struggling to tie her apron securely around her rather large waist. ‘I have an exciting announcement to make and we need to get moving quickly this morning.’

  Harry plopped himself down next to Peter, a thin boy with large glasses, nodded and kicked his bag underneath the bench.

  ‘Let’s have some quiet please now people!’ shouted Mrs Holden, blinking rapidly, tucking her frizzy hair back behind her ears. ‘Now, has anyone been watching Mastercook?’ A few hands shot up and she pointed to a small girl with red hair and freckles.

  ‘Yes Miss, I love it. It’s my favourite programme. Especially the Mystery Box, it’s amazing to see what they can make with only a few simple ingredients.’ Harry put on his best high pitched girly voice and screwed up his face...

  ‘It’s amazing to see what they can make with only a few simple ingredients...blah, blah, blah.’ The class laughed and Mrs Holden looked fiercely in his direction.

  ‘Harry Watson, pipe down and behave yourself or you’ll be outside the Principal’s office.’ She cleared her throat loudly and swung around to address the class. ‘Well actually that’s good to hear Lizzie as that’s precisely what you’re going to be doing this morning... all coming up with some fantastic new recipes in our own school Mystery Box challenge.’

  Harry’s eyebrows shot up in horror. Did he just hear right? She must be joking! A buzz of excitement travelled around the class kitchen. Mrs Holden brought their attention to a pile of boxes neatly stacked at the rear of the class.

  ‘Now, I’ll be placing you into teams and you will each pick a box and return with it to your benches...no talking, just listening.’

  But Harry wasn’t listening. This was just too much. He couldn’t even open a can of beans, never mind tackle some crummy box full of dodgy foodstuffs.

  ’Please lord, shoot me now!’ said Harry.

  ‘Don’t tempt me Watson as it can be arranged,’ Mrs Holden mumbled as she walked past him to supervise the class. Once safely past, he stuck his tongue out in her direction.

  As Mrs Holden busied herself splitting up the class into groups Harry’s attention was caught by a sudden movement in one of the cardboard boxes. There it was again - it was definitely moving! He took a step closer and placed his ear over the flap and listened closely. Suddenly he felt a sharp peck on his ear.

  ‘Ouch! What the heck?’

  ‘Harry Watson, be quiet and find your team this minute. I will not tell you again’

  ‘But Miss, something bit me!’ wailed Harry.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, my patience is running thin. Get yourself over here right now!’ Mrs Holden snapped.

  Harry picked up his bag and as he looked back over his shoulder he saw a small yellow beak quickly shoot back into the box with a final quack as the lid went down. I’m going completely bonkers he thought. He quickly found his chair next to Lizzie with the freckles. Nobody else had even batted an eyelid. They all were too busy chatting excitedly about beef or pork or vegetarian delights. Luckily nobody wanted duck thought Harry as he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  ‘I should have had breakfast, I must be seeing things.’ he said.

  ‘Now everyone, I do not want any peeking into the boxes just yet as this will be a timed challenge. Each team will have different ingredients so get your thinking caps on. Make sure you use at least four ingredients in your recipe. Are we all ready? You can open your boxes...NOW!’

  Mrs Holden took a step backwards and hit the stopwatch on her desk with a loud bang. Harry stared in disbelief as he looked around the class. The team on his left were busy pulling out all sorts of vegetables and packets of exotic spices but Podgy was holding onto a rather large chicken that was flapping uncontrollably, sending a plume of brown feathers into the air.

  ‘Put me down this minute!’ squawked the chicken. Harry’s mouth gaped open but no words came out. ‘I’m warning you young man, I have very sharp claws and I’m not afraid to use them!’ Podgy Parker dropped the chicken on the desk and apologised profusely. ‘That’s better...I’ve been cramped up in there all morning. Haven’t even been offered a cuppa.’ moaned the chicken.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ Podgy replied, jumping up and heading towards the sink on the other side of the kitchen.

  Harry’s feet were rooted to the spot. He didn’t know if he was more shocked about the talking chicken or the fact that Podgy was talking to a talking chicken! He edged closer to where the bird was standing and watched it as it rearranged its plumage and stretched its yellow legs.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ the chicken asked crossly. ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to stare?’

  Harry still couldn’t speak and with that the chicken jumped down from the bench and ran over to where Podgy was setting out a cup and saucer. The team to Harry’s right were deep in conversation with a small grey rabbit that was busy nibbling on a bunch of celery leaves that had come out of the same box. Mrs Holden had stopped on her way past and was stroking its head, her hands running up and down the length of its soft velvet ears.

  ‘As I was saying to your pupils Mrs Holden, it’s just a matter of timing with cooking. Get that right and everything else just falls into place.’ advised the rabbit as he hopped back into the box in search of more leaves.

  ‘What the...’ said an increasingly confused and nervous Harry. A sudden tug on his schoo
l jumper made him swing around and an anxious looking Lizzie was staring up at him.

  ‘Eh, Harry I think we’d better concentrate on our own box. We don’t want to get any penalty points.’

  Blimey that’s the least of our problems thought Harry. The box containing his team’s secret ingredients was still firmly closed on the bench in front of him. But suddenly it lurched violently towards the edge of the bench and he instinctively caught it as it fell towards the floor. A high pitched squeal made Harry lose his footing and he toppled backwards onto his bottom with a heavy thud.

  ‘Ouch...’ cried Harry.

  ‘Ouch...’ cried another small voice within the box.

  Instantly the lid flew open and a face with a moist rubbery snout and a pair of ruby eyes framed with long pink lashes was staring right at