Hidden Hound.

Another week had finished for Oliver and Henry. They were both 11 years old, and lived in the same street, only two doors away from each other. They had long ago become best friends in their first year at Eastville Holy Catholic School, which was right around the corner. It was a very handy place to muck around in on the weekends, in between Oliver's tennis lessons. He liked sports, and was not too bad at dreaming to be a Grand Slam Tennis champion, holding up a trophy.

Because it was Friday night, Henry was having a sleepover at Oliver's. He was going to sleep on the air bed, and they were planning to tell each other ghost stories. The boys arrived at Oliver's house, and raided the pantry for lots of snacks, full of carbs and sugary stuff. Such foods were supposed to be banned, but they were still delicious. Chocolate and crisps rated as treats once per week. Simon was Oliver's older brother, noiw 14 years old. He was very clever, and also aiming high at tennis. The boy's uncle had been a state tennis champion, and their father was always coaching from the sidelines. Simon and Oliver shared their blond hair and blue eyes. Oliver looked up to Simon, as he was very smart. Simon had a secret girfriend who was in Year 7. He and Poppy had arranged to meet on Saturday at 1 pm in the Food Court at Eastville Shopping Centre. But Simon needed an excuse to get there with no parents snooping around. So he strolled into Oliver's bedroom, and said to the younger boys, "Tomorrow, after tennis, I am taking you losers to Eastville Shops. Tell Dad you need new joggers. I shall take you. I'm going to ask the folks for some more pocket money. You can buy what you like, just disappear until 2:30. Okay? If you let on about Poppy, I'll get you both."

Henry looked a bit scared, but Oliver was used to Simon. He could keep secrets from the parent police. Oliver's mum ordered pizzas for dinner, which was her normal Friday night easy meal, no cooking for a change. Oliver and Henry went to bed, and they both fell asleep in the middle of telling each other some quite mysterious stories, all about spooks and haunted houses.

The night was drawing in around the house, it was dark and very foggy. A perfect night for mysteries. Simon had gone to bed slightly later, he had an important tennis match at 9 am, against a tough rival. In the middle of that quiet, peaceful evening, Oliver was suddenly woken up by a bell ringing. He glanced at his bedside digital clock, it was midnight. The bell did not stop ringing. It was very loud. He nudged Henry, who mumbled, "Time to go to school. We're late again. Come on!" He emerged from under his doona, and pulled on his school hoodie over his track suit. Oliver tried to tell Henry, "Slow down, listen! It's night time. It's the weekend. We can't go to school now."

Henry did not listen to his mate. By the time Oliver had quickly tied on his shoes, Henry had opened the sliding door to the patio, run down the short staircase, and was heading down the road and round the corner to their Primary School. Oliver had no choice but to run after the little dude. He barely noticed that there were several other children who lived locally, also hurtling to school. They all seemed half asleep, but sleep running.

By the time Oliver and Henry reached the school yard, the bell was still ringing, only deafening all the kids. The children stood around in their hoods in the darkness, lit only by the security lighting at the church next door. No one knew what to do, how to stop the dreadful sound of school.

"What if it rings all weekend?" Oliver asked no one in particular. Henry and the other kids looked equally clueless.

Then a couple of cars pulled up on the playground, headlights ablaze. Simon strolled up to Oliver, followed by some of the kids' fathers, all shivering in the gloomy fog. Their dads were all very cross, having to leave their warm, cosy beds to fetch back all the children who had raced to school at such an hour. Everyone looked very puzzled, until Simon said, "Come on, Oliver. I used to be the bell monitor. I''ll show you how to turn it off. There's a spare key to the front door here in the lock box."

"Good lad," said one Dad, "can't put up with this racket all weekend. It's our time off." The little kids in their school hoods looked a bit dazed, they were all normally fast asleep at this hour. Oliver asked Simon, "Is this school haunted?"

Simon led him into the dim school office, shooshing Oliver. His large blue eyes grew rounder, and he told his little brother, "Don't wish that upon yourself. I barely got through Grade Six. Look, there's a paw print. He's back."

Oliver looked at a giant paw print on the slightly ragged carpet, as Simon showed him how to turn off the switch for the school bell.

The silence was joyful. Now none of them had to do schoolwork in the middle of the night. Oliver was not too sure about Simon, and that look in his face. "Who's back? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"I hope you don't find out, little dude. Let's get back to the car, and get home. This is a secret for boys' ears only."

Oliver was puzzled, like Henry, as they eagerly let Oliver's Dad drive them home. The streets were shadowy, the foggy night had settled in. Oliver was trying to peep through the car windows, but it was only a short trip round the corner. The boys had a lovely hot cocoa drink, then headed off to bed again. Just as Oliver was closing his eyes, his bedroom door creaked open, and Simon stood there. His phone light glowed, as he whispered, "Be very scared, you two. The Hidden Hound of Eastville has returned. He is here to dog you, Oliver, just like it did to me. It is the curse this town has for Grade Six boys."

Oliver only said, "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not," said Simon, "No adult can see it. It is onto Oliver now. It is up to you to get through this year, followed by the Hidden Hound."

Then Simon told the boys to go to sleep. He would keep the little dudes safe while they were at home.

Henry did not whether to laugh or sook, to stay or go home. Oliver shared the last of the block of chocolate, wondering if why he believed in this tall tale, or was it a true mystery. He might believe. At least the school bell had stopped ringing. Soon, only soft breathing was to be heard.