The Great Rabbit Revenge Plan (8 page)

Dad goes back to messing about with Peter.

‘Then unhappiness will take its course,' Dad concludes.

‘How come?'

‘Ah,' says Dad. ‘Because then the professor will be happy. So terribly happy that all he wants to do for the rest of his life is to sit on a pyramid beside his Fräulein Crisis and murmur nice things into her ear. He wants that so much that everything about his wife and his daughter and his new
house becomes unimportant. And before the sun has disappeared behind the pyramids, he has decided not to move into the new house, but instead to leave his wife and child and to live with his Fräulein Crisis in a two-person tent.'

‘And to sleep with her,' says Konrad.

‘I beg your pardon!' says Dad. He sounds pretty shocked. He did explain to his son Konrad Bantelmann a few months ago that people who love each other sleep together. But even so, he is always shocked when he realises that Konrad has remembered this and possibly even understood it.

‘Yes, of course,' he says quickly. ‘Of course they will sleep with each other. Like man and wife.'

Konrad groans. ‘And of course, they'll have children.'

‘Possibly,' says Dad. ‘Possibly they will have children.'

Then he looks at the clock. It is exactly a quarter past eight. He looks at his boys. They are lying very quietly, and they look pretty tired. So he gives each of them a goodnight kiss, and, most unusually, he picks up Konrad, who is far too big for this sort of thing, and carries him to his own bed.

Then he goes downstairs into the living room. Konrad can hear his parents talking down there. They are speaking very quietly, as they always do when their sons must under no circumstances understand what they are saying. And no matter how hard Konrad tries, he doesn't understand a single word. And so he goes to sleep.

Seriously Flemish Giant

The next morning just after breakfast, Konrad sets off for number 28b, feeling a little anxious. The anxiety is sitting roughly at the level of his navel and it grows with every step he takes, until it has become a giant worry. Was this dippy Friederike really serious about that idea of hers – setting a rabbit trap for her father's girlfriend?

Konrad doesn't like this idea one little bit. Yesterday, when they'd been imagining all the things that were going to happen to this Kristine when her rabbit allergy broke out, he hadn't for a moment thought that they would really send a rabbit to the poor woman. You just say stuff like that. You do it every day. But you don't actually do half of what you say. Konrad thinks of all the mischief they plan at school during break – pitching the whiteboards out the windows, blowing up the school, throwing all the books in a heap and setting fire to them. The kind of thing you say when it's lovely and warm outside, for example, and you just couldn't be bothered doing school work. But nobody had ever
actually
gathered all the books into a heap and set them alight. If someone did do such a crazy thing, it would be someone whose head was seriously messed up, and everyone would try to stop him.

Same goes for the Flemish Giant idea. Sure, Fridz is
dead cross with this Kristine, because she's taken her dad away – that much Konrad gets – and because she is so cross, she wishes a plague on Kristine. And there's no doubt about it, it would be kind of fun to get up Kristine's nose with this mega-rabbit belonging to Fridz's dad. But no sane person would
really
play such a mean trick, Konrad thinks.

Like many other people, Konrad thinks he knows what a sane person looks like, and how he or she behaves. A sane person, he thinks, looks much like Konrad Bantelmann of The Dransfeld and a sane person would never do anything that Konrad Bantelmann would not do. So far, so good.

But – there is, unfortunately, a but. The thing is that even though he really likes Fridz, Konrad has certain doubts about whether she's a sane person. That is to say, a sane person on the Konrad Bantelmann model. There is something about her that suggests she is not only nice and likeable, but also a teeny bit mad. Maybe even mad enough to try to put this rabbit plan into action. And maybe so mad that even a person as thoroughly sane as Konrad Bantelmann might be persuaded to go along with her.

Thinking these thoughts, it takes no time at all to get to number 28b, even though Konrad has been walking fairly slowly. And now here he is at the door.

Konrad realises that on his way here, he has split into two Konrads. Two very different Konrads. One of the Konrads is really scared of getting mixed up in this rabbit thing. That's the old Konrad. The other Konrad, however, is getting butterflies in his tummy at the thought that he
could really take part in such a great adventure! This is a new Konrad.

Together, these two Konrads press the doorbell. Less than three seconds later, the door is swung open. And as usual, Fridz grabs the double Konrad by the arm and yanks him into the house.

‘At last!' she cries. ‘Where on earth have you been? Did you fall asleep on your feet?'

But she doesn't wait for him to answer.

‘Come on!' she cries. ‘You'll be amazed. Everything's ready'

Watching her scuttle down the stairs to the cellar, the two Konrads are convinced that since yesterday she has not thought about a single thing except the giant rabbit revenge plan.

Oh dear
, thinks the old Konrad.
Well, let's just wait and see
, the other one, the new one, says soothingly.

Down in the cellar, Fridz takes a key out of her pocket and unlocks one of the cellar rooms. In the Bantelmanns' house that would be the cellar where they keep provisions. But God only knows what you might expect to find here in number 28b.

Fridz opens the door and stands aside.

‘So,' she says, ‘what do you think?'

The Konrads say nothing. In the cellar, the one that is supposed to contain provisions – where, in the Bantelmanns' house there are lots of bottles and tins, all clean and tidy and arranged on handy shelves in order of size – there is nothing of the kind. No. Here there are only more packing cases. Big
ones and little ones, a few actually folded up, but most of them just thrown here and there.

‘Well?' says Fridz. She seems to be delighted by these boxes.

‘Boxes,' say the Konrads. Nothing to be all that very thrilled about.

‘Yes, exactly,' says Fridz. ‘Any number of super boxes. So we can send the stupid cow her rabbit plague. Without her knowing who has sent it.'

The old Konrad is not very surprised. He knew all along. But the new Konrad had wanted to wait and see what would happen. The old one just has to try and make the best of it now.

‘So are you really going to do it?' he says.

Fridz has already started to push some of the packing cases aside.

‘What are you saying?' she says. ‘It was your idea in the first place.'

Oh good lord! The old Konrad remembers: he did say something yesterday about setting a trap, but this idea with the rabbit – Fridz had thought that up all by herself. And in any case, he'd only meant to say something funny to cheer her up.

He was just about to say this in his defence, but the way Fridz is all business with these boxes, it doesn't look as if she would be interested in getting involved in a complicated conversation about who said what and who didn't.

She is tossing them around at such a rate that the boxes are practically whizzing by the Konrads' ears. And now at last she lifts one up with both hands over her head and cries, ‘This is
the one! I'd hidden it under the others, just to be on the safe side.'

You'd need to do that all right with this one, because it looks totally different from all the others. It's bright red, which is to say, it has been covered with bright red paper. And on top of that, several metres of luminous yellow ribbon has been wrapped around it, and on top of the box is the fattest, most crooked bow that the Konrads have ever seen.

‘Wow!' they both say.

‘Exactly!' says Fridz. She is looking very proud and that makes her look pretty. She turns the box around so that it can be seen from all sides.

‘It took me two hours yesterday to make it look like this. Good, isn't it?'

Right. Even if you wanted to contradict her, you couldn't do it.

What a box! On the top is an address label, written in three different colours and decorated all over with little hearts.

‘What do you think?' says Fridz, making big eyes. ‘Just imagine how that cow will fall on it! She'll think the biggest, fattest present in the world is in it. And then –' She presses the box to her chest, and dances around in a circle like an Indian. ‘Then she'll tear the paper off and with her long fingernails she'll pull the lid off, and she'll reach in with her two greedy hands – and what will she pull out?'

But before the Konrads can say anything, Fridz lets the box fall and pretends she has something in her hands. She gives this something a crazed look and starts screeching, ‘Eeeeeeek! Eeeeeeek! A rabbit! Help! Help!'

Then she pretends to chuck the thing away from her, and immediately she starts scratching herself all over. ‘Eeeeeeek!' she keeps shouting. ‘I'm coming out in a rash! My hair is falling out! I'm blue all over, and green! My teeth are going black! My toenails are curling up! Help! Help!'

Finally, she puts her hands around her throat and presses hard. ‘I can't breathe!' she gasps hoarsely, rolling her eyes. ‘I have a multinational animal fur allergy and I must, unfortunately, die a bit.'

She takes one hand from her throat and waves it at the Konrads. ‘Goodbye, cruel world!' she rasps. ‘Do me a favour. Tell the graveyard rabbits not to dig in my grave.' Then she lets herself drop, stiff as an iron bar, in among the boxes.

But she's back on her feet again within seconds.

‘What did you think of that?' she says.

But she doesn't get an answer. The two Konrads have fallen on the floor with laughter. And they are still lying there, tears running down their cheeks, gasping for breath.

‘Hey,' says Fridz, ‘what's all this hanging about? We have work to do. The rabbit has to go in the box.'

The old Konrad, the sensible one, gets his breath back first.

‘What?' he says. He expects the worst – and he expects right.

‘You have to help me,' says Fridz.

‘I can't!'

Oops! Who said that? Sentences like ‘I can't' are strictly forbidden, especially in front of girls.

Punishment comes, as deserved.

‘Don't get your knickers in a twist,' says Fridz. ‘Here, look!'

She takes the box, its bow now a bit more crooked, and presses it into the Konrads' hands. The box has a flap on the side, which looks as if it has been cut with a pair of shears. Fridz opens the flap and closes it.

‘See?' she says. ‘You hold the flap of the box open. Giant in. Flap closed. You can manage that much. Let's go. We haven't got much time. Henri will be back in half an hour.'

What can he do? Nothing, of course. To be on the safe side, the old Konrad gives the new one, the adventurous one, the bright red box – and two minutes later there he is, in front of the hutch, helping Fridz to take her revenge on her father's girlfriend.

‘Keep still, would you!' says Fridz. She does not, however, mean the Konrads, even though their hands are pretty shaky. She means the rabbit, who apparently has got wind of what's going on, and who is therefore not going to let himself be caught.

‘I am keeping still,' says the new Konrad, because he can't see anything from behind the box.

‘I don't mean you,' says Fridz.

And now she has nabbed the last Flemish Giant.

‘Flap open!' she cries.

The new Konrad holds the flap open as wide as it goes. His eyes, however, he keeps shut. And when he notices how heavy the box suddenly gets, and how at the same time it starts to rumble inside, he panics a bit.

‘Close flap!' calls Fridz.

But the new Konrad can't do it. The best he can manage is not to let this ton weight of a creaking box fall.

Fridz says something unrepeatable and closes the flap herself. She takes a big roll of sticky tape out of her pocket and a huge pair of scissors, and she uses a couple of pieces of sticky tape to stick the flap together so tightly that a dozen rabbits couldn't get it open. At least, that's what she says as she finishes doing the sticking.

‘You can put it down now.'

Which the new but no longer quite so adventurous Konrad is delighted to do.

‘But only for a quick breather,' says Fridz. ‘We have to go immediately.'

‘Where are we going?'

‘Well, where do you think? To the post office, of course.'

Now even the new Konrad protests vigorously. ‘Not to the post office!' he cries.

‘Why not?'

Why not? Why not! How could he even begin to explain? Heavens above! Send a rabbit in a box by post! First of all, there is no way the post people will allow it. And secondly they would be perfectly right, because it would be pure cruelty to animals.

‘What do you mean, cruelty to animals?' says Fridz, kicking the box. ‘He's got space in there. And if you think it's necessary, I can make a few air holes.' She's already holding the giant scissors over the box.

‘It's no use!' Konrad is all worked up. ‘For goodness
sake!' he says. ‘Parcels get thrown all over the place! The rabbit's bones will get broken!'

Fridz says nothing for a few seconds. That is unusual for her. She must be thinking. And if she's thinking, then probably she'll say something. But what?

‘So,' she says at last, ‘why does it sometimes say
Fragile
on parcels? What do you think? Obviously because breakable things are being transported. Even things made of glass. And if glass can be transported in boxes, then there's no fear of the Belgian here.'

She kicks the box again. Then she disappears and the two Konrads look at each other.

‘See!' says the old one. ‘There you go.'

‘Hmm,' says the new one.

For a moment, it looks as if they are going to have a row. But then they both decide to work together. Because for the next bit, you need to have your wits about you.

Five minutes later, Fridz is back in the garage. She has painted an enormous label saying
Fragile
but it hasn't got any little hearts on it. She sticks the label on the box with sticky tape.

Konrad tries again. ‘But it's so far to the post office,' he says. ‘All the way to the supermarket. We'll never make it.'

‘Of course we will,' says Fridz. ‘Just you wait and see.'

She signals to Konrad and the two of them carry the box out of the garage into the garden.

‘So,' says Fridz. ‘You're whacked already, are you?'

Konrad looks around him. This is not a garden anyway. On either side there are gardens, with shrubs and little trees,
just like in the Bantelmann garden and in the gardens of the neighbours of number 17a. And just like there, the new lawns are starting to grow. The new lawn, on which for ages and ages no one was allowed to walk. But here in the middle, where the garden of number 28b ought to be, there is nothing but a hilly lunar landscape of thick black earth. Here and there are plants that Mum Bantelmann would certainly call weeds, and further back you can see quite clearly the caterpillar tracks of a bulldozer or a digger. Atrocious!

Or maybe not. Konrad imagines what a good place this would be for playing Landing on an Unknown Planet. Or Digging for Treasure on a Desert Island.

‘Don't gape like that!' says Fridz. ‘The people next door do enough of that.'

But it's a nice garden.

‘If Henri doesn't manage to get a gardener soon,' she says, ‘they'll send us one of those notices about prohibited seed dispersal.'