The Boy Who Cried Fish Read Online Free

sigh, and a little whine of a wheeze whistled with it through the bars of the cage.
    ‘Oh, you poor thing,’ Fizz said.
    ‘Fizz,’ said Captain Fox-Dingle. ‘No show.’
    Fizz absorbed these words and made them into a sentence.
    ‘You don’t think he’ll be up for the show tonight?’
    Captain Fox-Dingle shook his head.
    ‘Is he sick?’ Wystan asked. ‘Has he caught flu or something?’
    Fizz looked at Wystan. When he’d thought it was just the bearded boy who didn’t have a show to do, he’d been unhappy for him, but not worried like he was feeling now. To think he didn’t have an act to do either – that was dreadful. No circus performer ever liked missing out, being told they couldn’t do their act. They weren’t in showbiz in order to sit in the wings all night. Who was?
    ‘Not flu,’ said Captain Fox-Dingle. ‘Old.’
    ‘How old is Charles, Captain?’ asked Fizz.
    Captain Fox-Dingle looked at his fingers and counted.
    ‘Very,’ he said eventually. He laid a hand on the top of Charles’s head and ruffled his great shaggy mane.
    ‘But the act went so well last night,’ Fizz protested. ‘It was perfect.’
    ‘Good show.’
    Captain Fox-Dingle shrugged and sat silently for a minute. The sadness of the moment seeped into them all.
    ‘What’s he going to do if he can’t do his act?’ Wystan asked.
    ‘Retirement. Good home.’
    At least, Fizz thought, trying to put a brave face on things, Charles could enjoy his last years somewhere nice. He knew the Captain would find a good home for him, because the Captain cared deeply about his friend. But Fizz had known Charles all his life. How strange the circus would be without him.
    ‘So last night was his last show?’ he asked.
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Perhaps he’ll perk up tomorrow?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    As he said this word Captain Fox-Dingle’s bottom lip quivered, in exactly the way it would were he upset. His tiny smart moustache bristled as he sighed. His eyes were fixed just to left of the boys, gripping the distance tightly in their gaze.
    There was no art class that morning. The boys could tell the Captain wasn’t in the mood and they didn’t mind skipping a lesson or two.
    If they skipped a lesson, however, then they’d have to find something else to do. And to find out what that ‘something else’ is, I’ll have to get on and write the next chapter.

Chapter Three
    In which Dr Surprise surprises the boys and in which an Aquarium is visited
    After half an hour of staring closely at the ground in different places round the circus, between caravans and tents, around cages and trucks, the two boys had found almost no further traces of the crocodile. ( Almost no traces because they did see one print that looked a bit like a clawed reptilian foot, but it was at the bottom of the steps to Luke Longrope’s caravan, and everyone knew he wore crocodile-skin cowboy boots.)
    They were despondent. They scuffed their feet and hung their heads. This wasn’t helping them find Fish, or find the kidnappers. They were rubbish detectives. The most rubbish, Fizz thought. Dreadful detectives. Their sea lion friend was out there somewhere and they’d probably never see him again and it was all their fault. Oh, woe was them.
    Thankfully, their moping was interrupted at that point. (If I was a better author I’d’ve interrupted it earlier, but never mind, eh?)
    ‘Ah, Fizzlebert,’ said Dr Surprise. ‘I thought I might find you here.’
    It was no surprise that Dr Surprise had known where to find him. After all, the mind reader was a mind reader, and also he’d seen them walking past his caravan window less than three minutes earlier.
    ‘The Captain,’ the Doctor went on, ‘told me about Charles. It’s a sad thing, Fizz.’
    It was a sad thing, Fizz agreed. Showlessness. Both boys were out of an act tonight, unless they could find Fish, and that wasn’t looking likely (see above). He felt like a spare wheel. The only time a spare wheel is needed is