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defenders of the alien

jacqueline christensen

Ref. No. 707020ch
Length approximately 35 000 words

Summary

A slave has escaped from the tiny, vicious, Deevhiidit god Eija, and Betsy and Claudia have vowed to protect her. But protecting Cecilia proves difficult. Because despite knowing that slaves from her planet are quickly recaptured, the troll-like alien longs to be pretty, and she wants to go to school, and meet and greet the neighborhood . . . William and Jamie, mysterious boys with a magic traveling board game, offer to help. But when Great Magician Tassyfyl overrides Cecilia’s, and the board game’s magic, it seems that even the children are doomed.

From The Book

Arnold Smith was a burglar.

Now, Arnold Smith’s cell mate had told him that somewhere there was a small statue which was smothered in gold and precious stones. “You’ve never seen anything like it!” he’d said, “The jewels is that big and their sparkle would half blind you! . . . It’s supposed to be a god, and its name is Eija. Now, say, if you was to promise me a quarter of what that statue’s worth, I could tell you exactly where to find it!”

So that’s how Arnold Smith happened to be lurking outside the French windows of the mansion on the hill. But what he saw that night caused him to lose his mind.

The statue was there all right. And it was exactly as his cell mate described it. It was seated on a glittering jeweled cushion.

A tall, handsome man was in the room.

Arnold watched. But all of a sudden an “Eeek!” escaped his mouth because he’d just seen a hand fly out of the air and whack the handsome man’s face.

The handsome man didn’t notice Arnold’s ‘eeek’ because he was holding his cheek and angrily yelling, “What did you do that for?”

And Arnold’s jaw had dropped because it was the statue on the cushion the man was yelling at.

Next thing, a strange-looking girl creature wearing a sack came into the room. She was about the height of an eight-year-old child, only skinnier, and she was carrying a tray. The strange creature was feeding the statue only now Arnold didn’t think Eija looked like a statue at all! Eija looked like a tiny, tiny person with black eyes and long white hair who was clothed in fabulous, golden robes!

Arnold still hadn’t given up: he was now trying to work out how to get the golden robes and the amazing jewels off the tiny god.

But Eija clearly had a temper. For instance, the funny-looking girl was stuffing grapes and cubes of mango, chocolate and strawberries as quickly as she could into Eija’s greedy gob but still the black eyes were flashing and the tiny legs were kicking because he wanted more . . . more . . . more . . . faster . . . faster . . . and Arnold was thinking that at any moment that swollen belly was going to burst right open!

The tall man looked on. His lip curled, he snarled, “You can’t even put your own food into your mouth!”

Then a moment later a great brick fell from nowhere onto the tall man’s shoe, and as he bent to nurse his throbbing foot a crystal candleholder flew off the mantle piece and cracked the back of his head.

And that was the moment Arnold took off down the driveway blabbering that the guy who sent him to that house was going to cop it! So minutes later Arnold missed seeing the grown man standing under a Plane tree in the cold night air crying: he missed seeing Anton Turner silently rant, “I’ve had it with Eija and his magic! Why does he need that slave? Who is there to look after me?”



Over six weeks had passed since Arnold Smith ran blabbering down the driveway.

There was trouble in the mansion on the hill.

On a night when a weak crescent moon hung in the sky, Anton Turner stepped onto his marble patio. But Eija was still shrieking, so he made his way to the river. He walked along the river bank, and when a boulder loomed out of the darkness he stopped, and gave it a good kicking. “How can it be my fault that Eija’s slave has escaped? Why does he have to blame me?” he moaned, “And why should it be up to me to find that stupid, ugly creature?”

The river lay between the mansion on the hill and the rest of Tilton. Busy four lane Spencer Drive separated shabby downtown Tilton, and elegant Tilton Heights.

The school bus pulled into the stop on Spencer Drive to let off Betsy Sullivan, Claudia Jeffries, and Tamsyn Wright.

“Claudia, you were spotted in the Mall?” Tamsyn exclaimed breathlessly as she stepped from the bus to join the others on the footpath.

“James, from Shaster’s saw me.”

“But Shaster’s is the top modeling agency!”

Tamsyn wanted Claudia to really like her. So she questioned excitedly, “When do you start?” And she jumped up and down to show how thrilling it would be to see her special friend on the catwalk.

Betsy though stared at the ground as Claudia exclaimed, “Mother, won’t let me.”

And as Betsy stared at the ground, something fell from an overhanging branch. Tamsyn flinched, because the thing almost brushed her hair. But Tamsyn was so busy trying to impress Claudia that she ignored the five-sided object which bounced twice, and landed at Claudia’s feet. And Claudia was so busy saying things to Tamsyn like, “And James told mother he could guarantee me a stellar career!” that she ignored it too.

So Betsy stooped, and picked up the pentagon. And glanced up into the branches of the Plane tree and thought she saw something really strange.

Straightening, Betsy blinked, and looked back, but this time she saw only leaves. She stood a little apart from the others, and lifted the pentagon to her nose. It had a very strange smell: like a cross between a coconut and an over-ripe orange. She turned the thing over and over. It was a little larger than a fifty cent piece, and it was smooth on one side, and furry, like a baby peach, on the other. Pressing the edges of the pentagon made strange symbols bounce about, and circle its smooth face.

Betsy was about to show Claudia and Tamsyn the pentagon, but Tamsyn purposely shut her out by turning her back, and moving close to Claudia. Tamsyn was saying to Claudia, “You should report your mother to the welfare! I think it’s the cruelest thing that she won’t let you! Proper mothers always want their daughters to be models!” So Betsy moved further away, telling herself, “Tamsyn’s just a ridiculous airhead, and Claudia’s a spoiled brat!”

A moment later Tamsyn’s mother’s BMW X5 pulled up in front of them.

Tamsyn quickly climbed in and as the car joined the stream of traffic, she called, “Tell me more about your mum when I phone!”

Claudia gave Tamsyn a quick wave, and turned to Betsy.

Betsy slid her hand into her pocket, ready to show Claudia the strange thing that had dropped out of the tree. But Claudia said, “Are you coming over today?” The question sounded more like a command than an invitation, so Betsy changed her mind, thinking, “I’m not showing you anything if you’re going to speak to me like that.”

“Are you?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve got too much to do.”

Claudia dropped her bossy stance.

“Why? It’s been ages since you’ve come home with me, and you know we always have fun! And Mummy brings home the best cakes on Mondays. Please come! The cream sponges are really y.u.m.m.y.y.y.”

Claudia’s violet eyes were shining and she was making it sound as if an afternoon with her was the most thrilling thing in the world!

And Betsy’s face did light up, because Claudia was fun, and she was longing for excitement. Instead she frowned, and slumped a little, answering, “I can’t. There’s too much to do. Look, I’ve got to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Claudia cut in quickly: “But you haven’t seen my new lipsticks! Daddy bought them in London and the colors are divine! We can do our homework together, and then we can watch a DVD, or swim in the pool!””

Betsy gave her ancient backpack a shake: the hard edges of schoolbooks were cutting into her ribs. She knew she had to go home: but she certainly didn’t want to.

“Come on, do come over!” Claudia was sounding bossy again. And Betsy got more annoyed when Claudia added, “Julie’s been sorting out my wardrobe. There’s sure to be lots of my old things that you could fit into.”

Betsy hated it when Claudia patronized her! She hated being poor!

Betsy knew it wasn’t her fault she was a State Ward. And Betsy didn’t think Claudia should think it so great to be giving away caste offs, clothes that she no longer wanted to wear.

“So? Are you coming?”

Betsy took a deep breath. She answered, “Claudia, what part of ‘no’, don’t you understand?”

Claudia gasped! Her violet eyes fringed with thick, long lashes were wide with shock. She, Claudia Jeffries, was beautiful: people didn’t speak to her like that! She stood silent a moment, watching a white miniature poodle on a leash walk by.

She flashed back, “Suit yourself! But don’t bother saving me a seat on the bus in the morning. I’ll be hanging out with Tamsyn tomorrow, and Tamsyn doesn’t like you, does she?”

Claudia gave her blond, shiny hair a toss. She stalked off, and silently fussed, “Why can’t Betsy come? Betsy solves Miss Zuma’s headache-making equations in seconds! She could have done my homework in minutes. Now I’ll never be able to do those sums!”

From high up in an Angophora tree the alien slave watched Claudia. The alien had listened to the girls’ conversation, and she’d learned their names. She was sorry that Betsy, the not-so-pretty one, had taken her gift. The alien loved the pentagon, and she’d wanted the beautiful Claudia to have it. And now she was feeling sad that Claudia was so upset.

The alien thought that Claudia was possibly the most beautiful human that there ever was! And as Claudia climbed the hill to Tilton Heights, she failed to notice she was being followed.

Because Claudia was still fuming that someone as clever as Betsy didn’t understand that it was her duty to help with a friend’s homework. “And,” Claudia argued, “I do try and help her. With fashion. But the clothes she wears never have any style! And her looks are a problem.” Claudia wasn’t sure that anything could be done about Betsy’s grey eyes, her pale complexion, and frizzy hair. “I’d hate to have to keep my hair in plaits,” she told herself.

Finally, out of the corner of her eye, Claudia thought that there was black plastic attached to a length of hessian, sliding down a tree.

She spun around: but all she saw was black plastic nestled against the trunk of a spreading willow myrtle. She shook her head: “I’m imagining things! But it’s the wind playing tricks: it’s just a garbage bag getting blown about.”

In downtown Tilton a silver Rolls Royce, cruising slowly, drove past Betsy. The driver stared. Betsy’s eyes were stinging at Claudia’s snub. A silver Rolls Royce was a rare sight in her neighborhood, but Betsy was too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice.

Fifteen minutes later Betsy unlocked the front door of a run down cottage where paint peeled from the walls, and the front of the house butted onto the street.

Betsy dropped her backpack in the dingy hall and went to the kitchen. A note was pinned to the fridge with a black cat magnet.

She checked it and read,

Betsy Have this work finished before I get home.

Make my bed

Vacuum and dust

Wash up

Mop kitchen floor

Shop - make sure you buy a size 13 chicken - I’m entertaining

Clean out the fridge.

I’ll be home about seven.

Betsy placed her hands on her hips. “Arrrgh!” she growled.

Gritting her teeth, she was on her way to Melissa’s bedroom ready to start, when she heard Melissa cough. She stood at the bedroom door, her lips set in a grim line.

“I didn’t know a foster child was supposed to do everything! But why are you home?”

Melissa was squatting on the floor, surrounded by plastic garbage bags. She pushed aside her black, pink streaked hair and whined, “You can’t complain about me because I never asked to be a foster parent! You were the one who wanted to stay with me, remember? When my sister, your real foster mother, went overseas?”

Betsy’s grey eyes became hard as flints: she answered angrily, “Except I didn’t offer to be your slave!”

Melissa turned to her messy wardrobe. She switched to her ‘you and I could be friends’ voice and said, “Anyway, be a love and help me clean this out will you? Tonight Max is coming over. And Max is so cool! We met at the club yesterday. And he’s crazy about me!”

“This guy’s not my boyfriend. So why do I have to do all your work because you’ve got a date?”

“What?” Melissa’s lined face flashed with anger. “You’ll do what you’re told young lady!” Then she seemed to remember the long list of tasks on the fridge, and said, “But if you’re very lucky, I’ll go to the shops for the chicken.”

Melissa dragged more rubbish to the floor, and sneezed. “Whew! There must be ten years of dust in here! Look,” she instructed, “From now on, every week when you do the big clean up, make sure that my wardrobe’s tidied and dusted as well.”

Betsy’s eyes smarted: she knew what the woman who was supposed to care for her was up to: “You’re just making sure that I don’t have any time to do my schoolwork!” she accused, “And that I’m always sleepy in class!”

Melissa sneered, “What, isn’t little Miss Smarty Pants being so clever lately? But what does an orphan like you want with university? State Wards don’t become doctors, or lawyers!

“But don’t worry, you will get a job!” Melissa cackled maliciously, “As soon as you’re old enough, you can clean the same, disgusting, stinky toilets that I have to. I’m sure the motel will take you on.”

Betsy yawned. Melissa was always trying to bait her, and she was so tired! So she didn’t try to answer back. But Betsy was scared: what if Melissa did make her fail at school, and when she turned sixteen, she had to work at some hateful job?

Melissa left Betsy to clean out the wardrobe, and she began phoning her friends to boast about her new, hot date.

Betsy, toiling over the pile of rubbish, pulled a pair of old overalls from under a stack of shoe boxes, and found a troll doll in one of the pockets. Puzzled, she took it to Melissa, who put down the phone long enough to give the doll a long, squeaky kiss.

“This,” Melissa said with a love sick gaze, “Is Cecilia. Patrick gave it to me, and Patrick was the most gorgeous guy you ever set eyes on! And now you can put it back! Not where you found it! On my pillow!”

Tears slid silently down Betsy’s cheeks as she placed the doll on the bed. Her thoughts were bleak: “Only someone who is losing their mind could see something that looks a lot like this, sitting in a tree.”

The following evening Betsy was walking up the Jeffries front path, and she felt she was being watched. Security lights lit the house and garden, and as she swung around to see who was watching, she saw a pair of glittering green eyes and a shock of brilliant orange hair withdrew into a black plastic garbage bag by the azalea beds.

The blood drained from Betsy’s face. “This madness is because Melissa’s being so horrible to me!” she fretted. She took several deep breaths. And when she’d calmed down enough, she crossed the patio, stood at the front door, and knocked.

It was Claudia’s mother who came to the door.

Mrs. Jeffries smiled, and said warmly, “Hello Betsy, it’s so nice to see you, and I’m glad you could come.’

But Betsy was now crimson with embarrassment. Hardly daring to meet Mrs. Jeffries gaze, she answered, “Thank you so much for having me Mrs. Jeffries. I am very grateful.”

Mrs. Jeffries violet eyes were kind.

“Where’s Melissa?”

“At home.”

“What? You walked all this way? In the dark, and she didn’t drive you?”

Betsy shook her head.

“Oh dear! If I’d known, I would have come and picked you up. Anyway, it’s good you got here safe and sound.”

Mrs. Jeffries took Betsy’s ancient backpack, and her overnight bag.

“I’ll take these up to the guest room for you, shall I? And you’ve eaten dinner?”

Once again Betsy shook her head.

“My goodness: you must be so hungry. Go through to the kitchen.”

As Mrs. Jeffries went up the stairs she called, “Claudia, Betsy’s here!”

Claudia yawned and stretched before standing in the living room doorway. She greeted Betsy with, “Hello. Have you started your homework yet? I could use some help!”

“No. I don’t know what it is.”

Mrs. Jeffries was coming back down the stairs and she was in time to hear Claudia angrily accuse, “No. You wouldn’t, would you, because you weren’t at school today. And because you didn’t help me with my homework last night, I got all of the equations wrong, and I had to stay in at recess and I had to listen to Ms. Zuma going on and on about how to do them!”

“Claudia!” Mrs Jeffries was shocked. “Betsy is your guest! And it’s not Betsy’s job to do your homework for you! And I know for a fact that Julie offered to help you, but you refused.”

“But Julie doesn’t know as much as Betsy!”

“Nonsense! You don’t even give her a chance.”

Claudia folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip, declaring, “Betsy’s in my class. Ms. Zuma’s equations are different!”

Mrs. Jeffries shook her head at her daughter’s obstinacy, and Claudia went back to watch television.

In the kitchen Mrs Jeffries set down a plate piled with casserole, baked vegetables, and salad, and suddenly Betsy realized she was ravenous.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to manage this,” Mrs Jeffries directed, “You are a little on the thin side. And I’m afraid that left-over sponge cake is all I have to give you for dessert.”

“I don’t mind: I’m sure it’s still delicious!”

Mrs Jeffries rinsed out the casserole dish, placed it in the dishwasher, and straightened up. She looked again at Betsy.

“Betsy,” she said slowly, “If something awful was happening to you, you would tell someone, wouldn’t you?”

Tears sprang into Betsy’s eyes. She stared at the plate. “Yes,” she answered, trying to sound convincing.

“Well, if ever you want to talk . . . I’m a good listener. And now I have a few phone calls to make. But if you need anything, I’ll be in my office. You know where it is: just along the hall.”

Mrs. Jeffries left the kitchen and Betsy heard her call, “Claudia, I’m sure that Betsy would like a bit of company.”

A few minutes passed. Then Claudia breezed in, saying, “Mum says I’ve been treating you badly. I’m sorry. I’m probably spoiled. Julie says I am. Would you like a mug of Milo? I’m having one.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I could fit it in: the servings aren’t nearly this big at Melissa’s.”

“Does she starve you?”

Betsy shook her head, “Not really.”

Claudia placed a mug of Milo in front of Betsy, saying, “You could do with some fattening up: anyway, I don’t want to be the only little piggy!” Then she stared.

“You’re wearing make-up!”

Betsy shrugged, and Claudia went to the sink and came back with her hand behind her back. Suddenly Claudia had Betsy in a head-lock, and she was scrubbing her face with a dish cloth.

“I thought so!” Claudia declared, “I’m telling Mum!”

Betsy caught Claudia’s wrist. “Please don’t.”

“Those are bruises on your face! Don’t tell me Melissa didn’t do it. Melissa’s a witch, and she should be charged for assaulting you!”

Betsy pleaded, “But you don’t understand!”

“Betsy, why do you let her hurt you?”

“I’ve told her that if she does it again, I’ll tell.”

“Tell? But why do you stay? And how did she do it?”

Claudia perched on the edge of the table, preparing to lecture Betsy; to force her to admit that there was no good reason that she should have a foster parent like Melissa.

Betsy knew that Claudia wouldn’t understand. Still, she couldn’t not give an explanation. So she said, “Well, Max was supposed to come last night. Max is the new boyfriend. But he didn’t turn up. Then she said she had to shop for him today, and that I had to go with her to carry the bags: and they weighed a ton! But I said I had to go to school. So she cupped her hand under my chin and squeezed my cheeks really hard. Then today, after I’d lugged the dead-weight bags for her, and cleaned the house from top to bottom, she told me I had to find somewhere to stay because her boyfriend wouldn’t want a kid hanging around. So that’s when I asked your mum if I could come here.”

“Why don’t you tell your Welfare Officer what she does?”

“I’d end up in a refuge, and that’s just one step from living on the streets.”

“She could find you better parents!”

“No. People who want to look after kids like cute little babies. Anyway, my mum and dad were the best parents ever, and I still love them so much! So I don’t want anyone trying to take their place. Anyway, hating Melissa gives me something different to think about. If I didn’t have Melissa to hate I’d probably die because I missed them so much. So please don’t tell your mum. And I don’t want to be on the street. I know Mum and Dad are dead, but, you know, if they were out there somewhere,” Betsy glanced up into the air, “Knowing that I was living rough would break their hearts.

Betsy was silent a minute. Before giggling a little naughtily, “But Melissa is going to hate it that I’ve come here! She hates it that your mum has a full time housekeeper. And she’s jealous of Julie because she says that your mum’s paying Julie more than twice what she’s paid at the motel. So she sniffs like this, and says, ‘I don’t know how that Julie can choose to work for someone like Mrs. Jeffries! I wouldn’t!” Betsy laughed, “Not half she wouldn’t! She’d be on your doorstep tomorrow if she got the chance.”

“Yuk! I’d hate to have to answer to Melissa! Sometimes I do give Julie a hard time, but she knows that I love her, and she really likes me.”

“You’re so lucky. Because I do know that living with Melissa is messing with my head,”

“How?”

“Well, today Melissa went into Anton Turner’s shop to get herself a love potion: it’s called, ‘Aphrodite’s rapturous love charms’. Well, Melissa was flirting with Anton Turner, and saying all this disgusting stuff that I’m sure that you’re not even allowed to talk about in front of a kid. So I was trying not to listen, and I decided to have a closer look at the pentagon . . . ”

“What pentagon?”

“The thing that fell out of a tree yesterday while you were telling Tamsyn about your mum.”

“What?”

“You were too busy moaning to notice. I’ve got it here.”

Betsy pulled the pentagon from her pocket.

Claudia bounced down from the table and brushed her fingers against the furry-like surface. She set the pentagon down by the cake stand.

“But what has it got to do with Melissa?” she questioned, “And what’s she supposed to be doing to your mind?”

“I’m so tired! She works me so hard that I’m starting to imagine things!”

Claudia didn’t care if something was real or not: so long as it was entertaining. She plonked herself on the chair next to Betsy and leaned close. “Like what?” she asked breathlessly, “Do you see things that aren’t there?”

Betsy turned red, and shrugged.

“Go on! You can tell me!”

“You promise you won’t tell?”

“Promise.”

“Well, yesterday, when Melissa was raving to Anton Turner about all this sick-making stuff that she was going to do with her Max.”

Claudia, who didn’t really, really, hate Melissa, wanted more detail.

“What was she saying?”

“It was just a lot of disgusting stuff,” answered Betsy, annoyed that Claudia could even be interested.

“Well, I was trying not to listen, so I put my hand in my pocket to have a better look at the pentagon. But once I’d touched it I got this horrible feeling. I had the worst goose bumps ever: my skin even hurt! So I looked around. And you know that little statue that Anton Turner calls Eija?”

“The creepy thing that’s dressed in fabulous golden robes that stands on that jeweled dais. And it’s got all those rose petals and crystals and lighted candles around it?”

“Yes. Sinla, who lives next door, loves that statue! Sinla says she’d give anything to have a beautiful god like Eija on her dresser; and I told Sinla that if she had something as horrible as Eija in her place, then I definitely would run away!”

“Anyway, what happened in the shop?”

“Well, nothing really. It just seemed that Eija’s eyes were boring into me,” Betsy shuddered and went pale, “Those black eyes were filled with hate and rage so much that they were almost popping out of his head.”

“What did you do?”

“I headed for the door.”

Betsy didn’t mention the creature with glittering green eyes and orange hair that she thought she’d imagined she’d seen: because it would sound completely mad!

“So,” she said lamely, “You can see how Melissa’s mistreatment is messing with my mind. Because Eija is only a statue!”

“Let’s have another look at the pentagon.”

“See: when you push its edges, symbols and figures appear on the smooth surface here. ”

“It’s like a primitive computer game.”

“Yeah. Except the stuff that it’s made out of is more like wood instead of plastic, or metal: it’s more like an intelligent plant!”

“Yuk!” exclaimed Claudia, tossing the pentagon into the fruit bowl, “What if it’s spying on us?”

Waving her fingers menacingly, Betsy chased Claudia around the table, giggling, “It’s the creepy crawly game from outer space, and it’s got a weird smell!”

Claudia squealed. Then, snatching up the pentagon, she became serious.

“Betsy, what if when you were in the shop Eija smelt this? What if this was what he was so angry about?”

“Claudia Jeffries!” Betsy laughed and shook her head, “Don’t be silly! You know that Eija’s just a statue. So he does not smell. Now, do you want me to tell you how to solve those equations?”

“No. Come and watch South Park. We’ll do them in the morning.”

It was still dark when Betsy crept out of bed and quietly laid out her school books on the guest room table.

At seven o’clock there was a soft knock on the door and Mrs. Jeffries came in with a tall glass of orange juice. She saw that Betsy was working and said, “No wonder you do well! I wish Claudia could catch your enthusiasm! Did you sleep O.K.?”

“Yes thank you.”

Mrs. Jeffries picked up the novel that Betsy was making notes on.

“Little Women. It used to be a favorite of mine. When I was a kid I escaped into books whenever I was unhappy . . . I did a lot of reading!”

That afternoon when the bus set them down on Spencer Drive, Betsy and Claudia laughed and joked as they climbed the hill to Tilton Heights, and Betsy thought, “I’m starting to feel like a kid again!”

Thursday though was different. Thursday was too close to Saturday, when Melissa said she had to go back. On Thursday Betsy tried to giggle at Claudia’s jokes, but she knew it sounded forced.

Once home, they went straight to the kitchen for sandwiches and Milo. But Claudia noticed that Betsy was hardly eating a thing. She was staring out at the garden, and her look was so sad that Claudia almost felt she could cry.

So, to cheer them up, Claudia said, “Let’s forget about Maths and boring projects. We should have fun, because soon you have to go back to Melissa’s. So we’ll swim, and watch a DVD instead.”

It wasn’t fun in the pool though, because a cold wind was blowing. Shivering, the girls ran to the house. After they’d pulled on track suits, Claudia said, “Let’s watch a movie. What do you want to see?”

“Finding Nemo: I haven’t seen it yet.”

Ten minutes into the movie though Betsy was still looking sad, and she was still staring into the garden. So Claudia announced, “This is boring! Let’s try on lipsticks, and pretend that we’re models!”

Betsy knew that Claudia was making a real effort to try and cheer her up, so she decided to make an effort as well. And she jokingly answered, “So I have to pretend that they let plain girls sashay down the catwalk too?”

“You’re not plain! Just wait until I’ve made you up: you’ll look stunning!” Claudia giggled, “Tamsyn would be so jealous if she saw you all glamorous!”

“And Melissa would feed me poison ’cause she’d think I’d steal her boyfriends.”

“Come on,” Claudia grabbed Betsy’s hand, “You can try on the makeup that Daddy got me in London.”

They sat in front of a large dresser that had winged mirrors that allowed you to look at yourself from almost any angle. Betsy glanced around the room as Claudia took mascara, eyeliner, and glitters from the top drawer.

“This room is so lovely,” she exclaimed, trying not to feel envious.

“I’m glad you like the decor. I’m going to be an interior decorator when I leave school. Dad thinks that’s what I’d be good at. Or maybe I’ll be a make-over artist . . . ”

Claudia lifted one of Betsy’s plaits, studying the tight waves.

“What styles did your mum give you when you were little?”

Betsy stared resentfully into the mirror at her fair, frizzy, not-blond-hair.

She thought a moment. “Once Mum had it braided, and the hairdresser wove all these pretty glass beads into the tiny plaits, and I thought I was beautiful!”

“Did she do anything else that was special?”

Betsy shrugged.

“Well, we’ll think about what to do with it later.”

Claudia applied lipstick to her prettily curved mouth. She handed the tube to Betsy.

“This shell pink is my favorite. Try it. I’m sure it will look good on you! I’m running downstairs to get us something to eat. The smells from Julie’s baking makes me ravenous!”

Betsy rolled the shell pink lipstick onto her full lips. She cocked her head, admired herself from different angles, and giggled, imagining Tamsyn’s envious stares as she strutted down a catwalk.

Betsy could almost see herself on the catwalk . . . hear the applause . . . but what Betsy didn’t hear was the light thud on the windowsill behind her.

Suddenly she had the feeling that she wasn’t alone. She swung around, and gaped at the creature crouching against the wall.

“It’s the thing I saw the other night with the glittering green eyes and bright orange hair!” she gasped, “It’s got wide nostrils and a turned up nose and brown skin like a troll doll, only it’s as tall as Sinla’s little sister, and it’s wearing a sack! I really am going mad!”

Betsy sat frozen as her ‘madness’ turned into a nightmare. Betsy didn’t even try to stop the girl-troll-alien as it dashed to the dresser. The thing was right beside her but all she did was gape as it reached out its long bony hand, and snatched Claudia’s shell pink lipstick!

The creature paused to look sideways at her, checking to see what she’d do. But all Betsy did was watch the alien scamper back to the window, jump onto the sill and leap ten meters into the branches of a Liquid Amber tree.

Betsy rushed to the window thinking, “Why didn’t we stay watching the movie: then this wouldn’t have happened!” She couldn’t see the troll-like-thing in the tree. “It could be hiding against the trunk . . . ” But she wasn’t sure. She glanced at the copse of rhododendrons, and then, out of the corner of her eye she saw it. The alien was crouched against the laurel hedge. Betsy’s grey eyes locked onto the alien’s glittering green ones, and the thing looked petrified. Then it straightened, and leapt over the hedge as easily as Betsy would have stepped over a shower hob.

Betsy knew that her parents dying in a road crash was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Now she was feeling that losing Claudia’s favorite lipstick was probably the second worst.

She paced the floor, knowing her case was hopeless.

Claudia breezed in, and set down a plate and two bottles of mineral water on her antique table, explaining, “Julie said we could have just one raspberry muffin each. And I tried to persuade her that we were dying for Milo, but she said muffins and Milo would make us fat.” She glanced at Betsy who had been staring into the garden. “I told you that lipstick would suit you! But you’re as white as a sheet! What’s the matter?”

Betsy tried to stop shaking: she took a deep breath.

“It’s gone.”

Puzzled, Claudia asked, “What’s gone?”

Betsy dared not raise her eyes. She said quietly, “Your favorite lipstick.”

“WHAT? HOW?” Claudia angrily demanded.

Betsy stared miserably at the floor and shrugged.

Then Claudia started screaming, “WHERE IS IT? GIVE IT BACK! YOU HAVE TO GIVE IT BACK!”

So Julie came up to see what all the fuss was about.

“BETSY STOLE MY LIPSTICK!”

“Nonsense,” said Julie, getting onto her hands and knees and looking under the bed, “It’s probably fallen onto the floor.”

Betsy stared out the window, and thought, “She’s looking in the wrong place.”

She raced down the stairs, and out to the garden, hoping the creature had dropped it. But in her heart she knew that anything that could leap from the window sill to the Liquid Amber tree would not be clumsy.

Claudia heard the back door bang and looked out the window. She saw Betsy searching the garden.

Betsy didn’t find the lipstick.

She called Melissa and asked to come home, but Melissa said No Way, and Betsy could hear Max in the background saying rude things about “that kid”. So she collected her things, and she was closing the front door behind her when Mrs. Jeffries stepped onto the patio.

“Thanks for having me Mrs. Jeffries,” Betsy said as she passed.

Mrs. Jeffries grabbed Betsy’s shoulder.

“What’s going on here? You’re not supposed to be going home till Saturday. What’s happened?”

It was then that Betsy started to cry.

“I insist you come inside,” Mrs. Jeffries said kindly.

Mrs. Jeffries called Melissa and asked if she was expecting Betsy home that evening.

“No way!” snarled Melissa down the phone, “I told her she couldn’t come!”

Mrs. Jeffries looked perplexed and worried. She called Claudia to the family room.

Claudia came. And Betsy looked away.

Bristling with indignant anger Claudia shrieked, “SHE STOLE MY LIPSTICK!”

“Betsy, do you know what happened to it?” Mrs. Jeffries asked kindly.

Betsy couldn’t bring herself to lie to Mrs. Jeffries. She shrugged.

“She threw it out the window so she could come back and get it when no one was looking,” accused Claudia.

Mrs. Jeffries shook her head in disgust at Claudia’s explanation. She answered, “Well, I don’t believe that Betsy would do a thing like that.”

Mrs. Jeffries went to the kitchen for a glass of water. When she returned, she said, “Darling Claudia, I know you like your make up. But I want you to question whether a lipstick is worth more than Betsy’s friendship. In my opinion, you have really enjoyed having Betsy here this week. And do you know that when Betsy was walking out of the house this evening, she had nowhere to go?”

But Claudia stared defiantly at her mother and answered, “I’m not having a thief for a friend!”

The following morning Mrs. Jeffries knocked softly on the guest room door. This time she found Betsy still in bed, curled into a ball.

“I understand you want to be a lawyer when you grow up. I’ll be in court today. You could find it interesting.”

Betsy sat up and said quietly, “Thank you, I’d like that.”

On Saturday Mrs. Jeffries drove Betsy back to Melissa’s. Claudia hadn’t spoken to her since Thursday afternoon.

And when Betsy stepped into the hall Melissa smirked and said, “I’ve just been speaking to Claudia! And she tells me that you’re not the Miss Goody Two Shoes that you make out to be. And it appears that I’m not the only one who can’t stand you!”

Betsy rushed past her. Once in her room she flung her bag on the bed, and then ran out of the house.

“Hey,” screamed Melissa, “where do you think you’re going?”

“To the library.”

“Oh no you’re not young lady, there’s work to be done!”

But Betsy called, “Do it yourself!” and ran off. When she returned though Melissa laid down the law: if Betsy didn’t do the list of household tasks that were daily pinned to the fridge, she would find herself on the street.

It was three weeks since Melissa had told Betsy that if she didn’t do all the housework, she’d find herself on the street, and some ‘Nosy Person’ had reported Melissa to the Welfare.

And now Betsy was staring at the bedroom ceiling, thinking, “I’m only one step away from living rough.”

Betsy’s new home was Wycliffe House. It was a refuge for girls who did well at school, and who didn’t play up too much.

“It shouldn’t be for long,” Mandy, her Welfare Officer, promised, “It’s just until we find a nice family for you to live with.”

Mandy had been tempted to go ballistic when she learned that Melissa often left Betsy alone in the house all night. She was also livid when she discovered that Betsy was being worked like a slave, and was being forced to miss school.

Now that Betsy was in Wycliffe House she wasn’t tired all the time, and she did get proper food. And once Mandy discovered that Betsy was being treated like a pariah by the kids at school, she had bought another lipstick for Betsy to give to Claudia. Betsy replacing the lipstick did stop the kids calling her a thief. “They’re not being exactly friendly though,” she admitted to herself, “Now they just ignore me.”

Except for Claudia: and she wanted to make up.

“But I don’t,” Betsy thought resentfully, “Not after all the horrible things she’s said about me!”

Twice at recess Claudia had invited Betsy to join her group, and Betsy had answered that she was going to the library.

Betsy also felt that her secret set her apart from everyone else. She feared that if she got close to someone, she would blurt out what really happened to the lipstick! She wouldn’t be able to help herself: and then what would they think? She’d probably get locked in a padded cell!

Ten days after moving to Wycliffe House though, Betsy was reminded of the knowledge that she had, and that others didn’t.

It was a sunny day, and the class was eating lunch at the outdoor tables. Betsy was sitting opposite Claudia, and she was seething because Claudia was in a huddle with Tamsyn, Ellie, and Anna.

Betsy was jealous because she was, really, really, missing Claudia.

So she glowered as Claudia put on her ‘what I’m about to tell you is so important and amazing!’ voice. And Claudia was saying, “Complain! My mum’s going nuts,” and here Claudia lowered her voice to almost a whisper, “Something is knocking over our rubbish bin - we’ve no idea what’s doing it! And you’ve never seen the mess it makes!”

“That’s no mystery!” declared Tamsyn with a know-it-all expression, “It’s just dogs.”

But Betsy thought disgustedly, “It’s the alien, Stupid. And it’ll be getting plenty to eat with all that Claudia throws away! And how can Claudia stand hanging out with anyone as boring as Tamsyn?”

The next morning Claudia was waiting by the school gate. And as Betsy passed Claudia grabbed her arm, imploring, “You’ve got to talk to me!”

Betsy looked hard at Claudia: she was white, and shaking. Betsy was almost feeling sorry for her.

“Come across to the Camphor Laurel tree,” she said quietly, “Nobody hangs around there much. And we can talk, and no one will hear us.”

Claudia, looking grateful, nodded.

Now that morning Tamsyn had decided to wear lipstick, mascara, and eye shadow to school to show everyone how beautiful, and bold, she was. And she was in a shiver of excitement waiting for Claudia to arrive.

But soon she realized that Claudia was already there, and she was with Betsy!

So Tamsyn bowled up to Betsy, and she wasn’t looking one bit beautiful. Because her face was screwed up in anger, and her lips were drawn back and she was shrieking, “You get away from Claudia, Betsy Sullivan! You steal! You don’t even have proper parents. You’re a Welfare kid! And my Mum and Dad says you’re trouble!”

And with that uncool, ugly outburst, she shoved Betsy as hard as she could.

It took a moment for Betsy to steady herself. And in that moment, with her friend Claudia beside her, Betsy felt like the confident person she’d been before she’d lived with Melissa. And she said to Tamsyn, in an even tone, “And it’s a shame that your parents haven’t taught you any manners. Please leave us alone. We have a very important secret that we need to talk about.”

Tamsyn’s mouth hung open. “Wha . . . what? A secret?” Tamsyn then tried to link her arm through Claudia’s, and in a persuasive, half whisper said, “Come away from her. You can tell me!”

But Claudia’s mouth turned down in disgust, and she shook Tamsyn off, saying, “I’m not even talking to someone as rude as you. And it’s such an important secret that I’m only telling Betsy.”

So Tamsyn stormed off, yelling, “I’m telling Mrs. Henderson on you!”

And Claudia, giggling, threw her arm around Betsy’s shoulders, saying, “She’s going to turn herself inside out trying to figure out what it is!”

Once they’d reached the camphor laurel tree Claudia asked, a little shakily, “Betsy. You know when the lipstick disappeared: was it totally weird . . . so weird that you couldn’t tell anyone?”

“Ye . . . yes.”

“Oh, Betsy!” Tears slid down Claudia’s cheeks, “I am so sorry! I’ve been so mean to you! I could see how miserable you were. But once I’d said you’d stolen the lipstick, I was too proud to back down. Julie’s always saying I’m proud. I was angry the lipstick was gone. But deep down, I knew you couldn’t be a thief.” Claudia stared at the ground. “And it wasn’t only me that was giving you an awful time - everyone else was as well. And it was all my fault.”

“Don’t worry. I can’t blame you for suspecting me. But I’m guessing that now you know why I couldn’t tell you the truth. Because if I’d said, ‘An alien took your lipstick,’ you would have thought I was telling the biggest, the most stupidest, whopper ever! What did she take this time?”

“Eye liner.”

The secret was out!

And a living troll-doll stealing lipstick and eyeliner struck the girls as so funny that they fell about laughing.

But Claudia became serious, and said, “I’ll be too scared to sleep tonight! How dangerous do you think the alien is?” as the second buzzer rang. So the girls had to grab their bags, and they ran to class.





About The Author

Jacqueline Christensen holds a Bachelor of Arts degree from Macquarie University.

She now has fun writing about children, and lives in the seaside village of Copacabana, New South Wales.

Copyright 2007-2008, jacqueline christensen (Expires July 20, 2008)

To request information on this author or a manuscript contact the listed agent or e-mail: dbooth@authorlink.com

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