Puppy Fat by Morris Gleitzman Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d stood in front of it, three months ago.
    He remembered how on that occasion he’d decided the previous tenant must have been a giant, or a circus artiste who liked to wear his stilts around the flat, and that was why the bathroom cabinet was so high on the wall.
    The thought had made him smile, which had made him look strange in the mirror because he hadn’t been able to see his mouth, just his twinkling eyes.
    He still couldn’t see his mouth.
    Not even a bit of it.
    Not even three months later.
    And his eyes weren’t twinkling at all now.
    Keith burst into his bedroom at Dad’s and gasped air into his aching lungs.
    He’d never run non-stop from Mum’s before.
    But then he’d never had anything this urgent to double-check before.
    Still panting, he went over to the boxes of tinned pineapple stacked beside the wardrobe.
    Here goes, he thought.
    He stood with his back against the boxes and ran the palm of his hand over the top of his head.
    It was as he’d feared.
    He was exactly the same height as the stack.
    He turned desperately and counted the boxes.
    The stack was still only four boxes high.
    Exactly as he and Dad had made it three months ago because Dad had reckoned a kid shouldn’t have piles of tinned pineapple in his room that were taller than he was, partly because of the danger of them falling on him and partly because of the scary shadows big stacks throw at night.
    Keith felt more scared now than he ever had from tinned pineapple shadows.
    Because this confirms it, he thought, heart pounding.
    I’ve stopped growing.
    â€˜Aunty Bev, wake up.’
    Keith tried the door again but it was definitely locked.
    He wondered if Mum would mind him forcing her bedroom door open with the bread knife seeing as this was an emergency.
    Before he could decide, he heard Aunty Bev moving around inside the room.
    â€˜Hang on,’ she called.
    Keith heard what sounded like the rustle of tissue boxes and the hiss of spray cans and the click of plastic lids.
    Then Aunty Bev opened the door.
    â€˜G’day Keith,’ she smiled.
    Even though Keith was nearly frantic, he couldn’t help gawking.
    He’d never seen anyone who’d just been asleep for five hours in such good shape.
    Her hair wasn’t sticking out.
    There were no pillow creases in her face.
    He couldn’t even see any dried dribble at the corners of her mouth.
    Perhaps beauticians are trained to sleep sitting up, he thought, like camels.
    â€˜Anything the matter?’ asked Aunty Bev.
    Keith hesitated for a moment.
    He felt a flash of embarrassment at the thought of blurting out his problem to someone he’d only met twice.
    It’s OK, he told himself. She’s a professional. It’s like going to the doctor.
    â€˜What can stop a person growing?’ he asked. ‘A person my age?’
    Aunty Bev looked at him and frowned.
    Keith hoped she wouldn’t want to examine him physically.
    â€˜Hormones,’ she said. ‘If they’re out of balance they can play havoc with your growth patterns.’
    Keith knew that couldn’t be it because he didn’t have any hormones yet. Hormones made your voice go funny like Dennis Baldwin’s and his voice was still normal.
    â€˜What else?’ he asked.
    â€˜Food,’ said Aunty Bev. ‘The more food you have the bigger you get. If you stop eating, you stop growing.’
    Can’t be that, thought Keith. I get heaps of food with Dad being in the business. Plus I’m pretty sure most of the major food groups are present in chocolate fingers.
    â€˜Anything else?’ he asked.
    Aunty Bev frowned again.
    Keith hoped she wasn’t going to say too much exercise. Not with the amount of running he was having to do between Mum and Dad’s places.
    â€˜Stress,’ she said. ‘Tension, worry, anxiety, it can all bugger the metabolism.’
    Something clicked in Keith’s brain.
    â€˜You