The Great Rabbit Revenge Plan (15 page)

Man, oh, man! thinks Konrad. What a talent!

And what an effect she is having! The manageress looks quite shocked. She says ‘Ach!' and ‘Oh dear!' and eventually she hunkers down in front of Fridz, just the way Mum did this morning with Konrad, and strokes her hair. So this is Kristine Crisis. Actually, she seems quite nice. If her hair were just a little bit longer, she could easily be a Dransfeld mother, with a husband and two children of her own and a new house with a front garden, a little beech hedge and a Volkswagen Passat out in front.

Konrad is starting to feel sorry for her. Tomorrow she'll be all lumps and bumps and she'll be scratching the skin off her body with her prettily painted red fingernails. That will not look one bit pretty. She might even cry, and that would make her make-up run. Not a pretty sight either. And all because a certain Konrad Bantelmann put the idea of this rabbit project into the head of a certain Friederike. The poor woman.

But who knows, thinks Konrad. Perhaps she will look so dreadful tomorrow that Fridz's father will leave her and come back to his wife and daughter – and then it would all have been worth it. Then the father could look after his own rabbit, number 28b would finally have a front garden that is just as nice as the other front gardens in The Dransfeld, Fridz's mother wouldn't be unhappy any more
and wouldn't have to take any more sleeping pills and Fridz wouldn't be angry and sad any more. That'd be a fine thing! And even if, in exchange for all this, an itchy manageress sat crying her eyes out – well, they'd still have done a good day's work.

Wouldn't they? Yes, of course, thinks Konrad. A good day's work, in spite of everything. You have to harden your heart a bit. No false sympathy.

Out loud, he says, ‘All your own fault.'

‘Excuse me?' says the woman.

Oh dear, thinks Konrad.

Luckily, Fridz has got her speech back. ‘That's right,' she says quickly. ‘It's all my own fault. I told her. I said, you are a stupid tramp.'

‘Who?' says the woman, looking strange. ‘Who's a stupid tramp?'

‘Mum.' Fridz acts all worked up. ‘And then Mum said, you're a hysterical cow.'

‘Who?'

‘Me. And then I said, go to hell, I hope you are roasted on a spit and –'

‘No, please!' The woman looks as if she wants to clamp Fridz's mouth shut. ‘I understand now. You've been fighting with your mum. And what happened then? Did you run away?'

Fridz nods.

‘Aha. And who's this with you?'

‘Konrad Bantelmann. Number 17a. He's taking care of me. I'm just a woman. Anything could happen to me.' Fridz
looks like some little girl in a silly Japanese cartoon. And she's even talking like some silly Japanese cartoon girl. In this silly voice she says: ‘Oh, Krissi, I can't go home. Please, please, let me go to your place and wait for Dad. Oh please, that would be so sweet of you.'

Konrad can't bear to look. At least she's let go of his hand so that she can cry on the woman's shoulder.

‘Please, please,' she's saying. And on and on: ‘Please, please, please.'

Ghastly!

‘Of course you can stay at my place.'

‘Really?' cries Fridz. ‘Really, really? Oh, you're so nice!'

The only thing she didn't do was actually jump for joy. You'd really want to watch yourself with this girl. She should wear a notice around her neck saying, ‘BEWARE OF THE WITCH' and ‘DANGER! DO NOT COME WITHIN TEN METRES! DO NOT BELIEVE A SINGLE WORD OUT OF THE MOUTH OF THIS PERSON!'

The woman extricates herself, with difficulty, from Fridz's embrace.

‘But we'll have to let your mother know, so that she won't be worried.'

‘We-ell,' says Fridz slowly.

Konrad pulls Dad's folding mobile out of his pocket and holds it up.

‘We told her already,' he says. ‘With this.'

He flicks the phone open and shut again. Then he puts it back in his pocket.

‘Oh, good,' says the woman. ‘Wait till I get you the key.'

She goes to a curtain and disappears behind it.

‘How did I do?' asks Fridz softly.

‘Disgusting.'

‘True. But you were worse.'

‘Pst!'

The woman is coming back with the keys. The one with the red top is for the front door, and the blue one is the key to the apartment. Does Friederike know how to get there from here?

‘Sure,' says Fridz. ‘Stone's throw.'

‘Well, then, off you go.'

Fridz has already turned to go, but the woman holds her back.

‘I'm very pleased,' she says, ‘that you came to me. Maybe we'll get on a bit better from now on.'

‘For sure,' says Fridz.

Konrad watches closely. Is she blushing? Even a little? Yes, she's a little bit red.

But by the time they are on the escalator, it's passed.

‘Cow,' says Fridz.

Red Trousers

As the two reach the ground floor of Oller's Fashions, Fridz takes Konrad by the arm.

‘Watch out,' she says. ‘This is the dangerous bit. It's one thing to stick something in some place, but just try getting it back out again, I'm telling you, people watch you like hawks.'

‘I get it,' says Konrad.

But as it happens, it's not so much the getting out of the rabbit box that's the problem. The problem is that there where the display unit with the ladies' trousers had been, there's now – nothing!

‘Huh?' says Fridz.

Konrad says nothing. This might even be a solution – of sorts.

‘Damn,' says Fridz.

‘Pst,' says Konrad.

Fridz is now so red in the face that there's hardly any difference between her face and her hair. ‘What's happened to the old jackrabbit?' she says.

‘Maybe they found him and sent him to the animal shelter.'

‘I don't think so.'

‘Please,' says Konrad, ‘let's get out of here.'

For just a moment he feels quite light-hearted. Maybe Fridz will say, ‘Right you are,' and then in ten minutes they could be on the bus and half an hour later they'd be back in The Dransfeld.

‘No way!' says Fridz. ‘We can't give up now. And anyway, they can't have found the creature.'

‘How d'you mean?'

‘Just look around you. If these fashion bimbos had found a bunny rabbit, they'd all be standing around the box screeching, “Oh, how sweet,” and “Oh, how cute!”
You
know.'

Whereas in actual fact, everything is very quiet in Oller's Fashions.

‘We have to find the stand,' says Fridz. ‘I bet the box is still stuck in it. Let's go. It's ladies' trousers on special offer that we're after. We'll split up. You go that way, and I'll stick around here.'

And with that, she's off. Konrad wonders briefly if he won't seem suspicious looking for ladies' trousers. But it's probably even more suspicious to stand around in a clothes shop looking stupid – and for this reason, he sets off. As he goes, he's thinking up a few things to say if anyone addresses him.

‘I need a nice outfit.'

‘I'm looking for a colourful scarf to go with my pale coat.'

‘I'm interested in flowery blouses.'

He can come up with any number of sentences like that. Luckily, Konrad has been with Mum often enough in
clothes shops. And he's listened to her for hours on end talking to the sales assistants. He'll have no problem thinking of something suitable to say.

As he passes a long row of jackets, he runs his hand along them, which makes the hangers rattle on the rack as if they had something to say. Then he gives a stand of skirts a twirl, and it looks comical, the way the skirts fly up in the air as they ride the merry-go-round.

‘Well, young man, what are we looking for?'

‘Me?' says Konrad. He turns around to see a shop assistant smiling at him.

‘Yes, you.'

‘Me? Ah.'

‘The children's department is on the third floor.'

‘Yes,' says Konrad. Not a very intelligent answer, he knows.

‘It's ladies' fashions down here,' says the assistant. ‘Or are you looking for something for your mother?'

‘Yes,' says Konrad. If only he could think of something else to say!

‘And what, exactly?' The sales assistant smiles a tiny bit more.

‘Trousers,' says Konrad. ‘Ladies' trousers.'

‘And where is your mother?'

At home, thinks Konrad. My mother is at home and has no idea what kind of a hoo-ha her hitherto well-behaved son Konrad is creating.

‘Back there,' he says and points somewhere or other.

It's all going to come out now.

‘In the changing room?'

In the changing room? Yes, why not? Konrad nods a couple of times.

‘And now you're looking for the stand with the special offers?'

‘Yes!' Konrad is delighted. It's the first time for ages that he's been able to tell the truth.

‘You're a great help,' says the assistant. ‘Come along. We've just moved the special offers.'

She walks on ahead. Konrad, the great help, follows her.

The stand with the ladies' trousers is now behind a big pillar. Konrad tries to look around him, without moving his head. No sign of Fridz. Maybe she's seen that he's been caught and has gone into hiding.

‘Here we are,' says the assistant. ‘What size does your mother take?'

‘Thirty-six.'

This is one thing Konrad is quite sure of. Mum certainly talks enough about how she's a size thirty-six. She's very proud of it, because size thirty-six means nice and slim. Size thirty-eight means you are disgustingly fat.

‘Thirty-six,' says Konrad again. It's lovely to be able to tell the truth twice in a row.

‘And what colour is she looking for?' The sales assistant seems a lot friendlier now. She plunges both hands into the ladies' trousers. No, don't do that!

‘That pair!' says Konrad quickly. ‘Those red ones!'

‘That's what I call taste,' says the assistant. ‘Strong colours suit slim women very well.'

She pulls the trousers out. Konrad takes them. The sales assistant looks at him. What should he do now? Oh, yes. He must take the red trousers, size thirty-six, to his mother in the changing room. Of course.

‘Thank you,' he says.

But his ‘Thank you' is of no use. The assistant doesn't go away.
Go away!
thinks Konrad.
Toodle pip! Off you go!

But thinking doesn't do him any good. She's standing as if rooted to the spot. And she's still looking at him. What else can he do but set off with the red trousers towards the changing rooms?

Konrad goes. Slowly. He can feel the gaze of the sales assistant on his back. He used to think that it only happened in those detective stories of his, where children detected around in abandoned castles, and looks would somehow fall on their backs. But now it seems it really can happen, you actually can feel looks. And not only that. Konrad feels the look propelling him forward. Towards the blinking changing rooms.

There are, in fact, five of them. In three of them, the curtains are open, and in two the curtains are drawn. Eeny, meeny, thinks Konrad, miney, mo. He walks right up, unhesitatingly, to the closed cubicle on the right. The look drilling into his back pushes him onwards. He pulls the curtain aside just a little, and slips inside.

‘Hey!' says a woman. She's wearing only her underwear, and she has something in her hand that might be a dress. The woman is fairly young, but Konrad can only guess, because he's looking down and away from the woman.

‘Please,' he says softly. ‘Please be my mother.' He holds the red trousers up. ‘And try these on.'

‘Are you mad?' says the woman. ‘Or is this some kind of new sales technique?'

‘Here, Mum!' says Konrad loud enough for it to be heard outside. ‘I've got you a red pair.'

He looks up into the woman's face. She's quite pretty. That makes it easier.

‘Please,' he says very softly. ‘Please, please! For my sake.'

The woman says nothing for a moment. ‘Are you in some kind of trouble?' she asks.

Konrad nods.

‘Did you pinch something?'

Konrad shakes his head.

‘Well, then, what?'

‘I can't explain. Please, be my mother. Just for a minute.'

The young woman laughs, but she puts her hand over her mouth.

‘And the trousers,' she says then, ‘do I really have to put them on?'

‘Yes,' says Konrad. ‘But it's a special offer. And I'd say you're definitely a thirty-six.'

‘Hey!' says the young woman. ‘You know a thing or two.'

She takes the trousers, gets into them, and pulls her short T-shirt over them, showing a bit of stomach.

‘What's your name?'

‘Konrad.'

‘Right, let's get out of here!' The young woman pushes the curtain aside and steps out of the cubicle.

The sales assistant is still outside. She smiles at Konrad. He grins back. The young woman stands in front of a big mirror, puts her hands on her hips and does a twirl.

‘What do you think, Konni darling?' she asks. ‘Do they suit me?'

She's doing really well. Though
Konni darling
was uncalled for.

‘Super, Mumsy!' Konrad calls back.

The assistant smiles again and goes off. Hardly has she disappeared behind a pillar than Fridz appears by a table full of pullovers, flailing her arms like mad.

So she hasn't been caught. Konrad gives a few furtive signals back. He goes over to the young woman at the mirror.

‘I'm out of danger now,' he says. ‘Thanks a lot for not giving me away.'

‘That's okay,' says the young woman. ‘Just one question. What do I have to do to get such an amusing son?'

For heaven's sake! Konrad blushes.

‘Very well,' says the young woman, patting him on the head. ‘You'd better get a move on, agent 007.'

So he does. Fridz is waiting for him by the pullover table.

‘I don't believe it,' she says. ‘Instead of looking for the bunny, you're making up to a strange woman and disappearing with her into a changing cubicle! And what's this I hear?
Konni darling?
That doesn't sound like you.'

‘I –,' says Konrad. He has a lot of explaining to do.

‘Oh, you!' says Fridz. ‘In the meantime, I've found the
stand. And as I correctly guessed, the box is in it. Come on, Konni darling, you useless creature, at least help me to carry it!'

No, thinks Konrad, don't protest! Don't try to explain anything. That'd only make things worse.

‘Anyone watching?' asks Fridz.

‘No.'

‘Let's do it, then!'

With a bit of pushing and shoving, they get the box out from under the trousers. They take a side each, and start to make their way towards the exit.

The sales assistant from just now is there.

‘Well,' she says. ‘You're making yourself useful again. Did your mother like the trousers?'

‘She's still deciding,' says Konrad.

‘And this is your sister?'

‘Yes,' says Konrad. ‘She's called Friederike. But we call her Fritzi darling'

‘That's sweet,' says the assistant.

Ten paces, fifteen paces and they're out on the street again with the box.

‘Fritzi darling?'
says Fridz. She puts her side of the box down on the pavement. ‘That's a bit cheeky of you, my dear!'

Konrad is still holding up his side of the box.

‘Can we please get out of here?' he says.

‘We can,' says Fridz. ‘Anyway, I need my elevenses.'

Fifty metres further on there's a fast-food restaurant, which is already open. The fast-food restaurant belongs to an American company, and it looks exactly like all the other restaurants belonging to this company.

‘Here,' says Fridz. ‘Here we can have a Thunderburger for once in our lives.'

‘Can we take an animal in there?'

‘Not if we ask first.'

They go into the fast-food place.

‘You stay here with the box,' says Fridz. ‘I'll get something for us. It doesn't really matter what, does it?'

That's true. For Konrad Bantelmann is probably the only boy in the whole world who really doesn't like anything you can get in American fast-food restaurants. But he hasn't got time to explain all this, because, in the first place, Fridz has already disappeared in the direction of the counter, and secondly, there are three bigger boys standing there. These bigger boys are wearing jackets on which a lot of words are printed, the most up-to-date sports shoes on their feet and very trendy haircuts on their heads. Basically, not a problem. To everyone his taste, Dad always says. The only thing is that the biggest of the bigger boys is pointing at the box with an outstretched arm.

‘Hey,' he says. ‘Whassat?'

If only it wasn't the school holidays! thinks Konrad. Otherwise, this trio would be stuck in some classroom, copying numbers off the board, or doing something else useful, instead of hanging around in this particular fast-food restaurant, taking an interest in other people's boxes.

‘Whassat, huh?'

By now, Fridz is at the counter, and it's too far to call out to her.

Maybe I'll give the truth a whirl again, thinks Konrad.
It worked once today already.

‘A Flemish Giant,' he says.

‘Huh?'

‘It's an extraordinarily enormous rabbit. Could weigh up to seven kilos.'

‘Cool! Gi's a look!'

No, the truth is not working. The three bigger boys are already kneeling around the box and their six hands are tearing at the lid.

‘Careful, it bites,' says Konrad

‘Ha ha!'

‘It has an infectious disease.'

‘Yuck!'

Lying isn't working either. The lid is off now, and six hands are groping down into the box.

‘Hey, is he fat or what? Man!'

The ears of the giant rabbit appear over the edge of the box.

‘Please!' says Konrad. ‘Please, leave him in the box.'

‘Don't make such a fuss!' says the biggest of the bigger boys. ‘Give it to me. I want it.'

And he gets it.

‘Wow!' he says, falling back on his bottom. ‘What a giant! Let's take him into the kitchen and have him roasted.'

The other two are hollering with delight.

Konrad clutches his chest, where his purse is hanging. Maybe he could offer them a ransom. But he doesn't get that far.

‘Ow!' shouts the biggest boy, letting the rabbit go. ‘It bit me.'

He's holding his finger up, and it does look as if it has been nibbled a bit.

Bravo, thinks Konrad. The gigantic rabbit really has bitten him. The truth is giving him a run for his money today.