典范英语8-8

8

Dangerous trainers

危险的运动鞋

Thud

，

thud

，

thud

My big brother’s got some new trainers. He wears them all the time.

Thud, thud, thud! When he runs upstairs in the

，

m the whole house shakes. Mum shouts, ?Stop that noise!? My brother’s

new trainers are big and p

uffy and purple. They’ve got soles as thick as tractor tyres.

Clump, clump. He’s clumping to his bedroom. ‘Gangway!’ he shouts. I have to squash myself against the wall, so my

feet don’t get crushed ?I hate your horrible trainers!? I tell him. ?They’re dangerous.’ But he just clumps downstairs

again. Thud, thud, thud. The front door slams. Thank goodness-

he’s gone out. It’s nice and peaceful now. I can lie here on

the floor and read my book.

Stomp, stomp, stomp. The floor begins to tremble. Is a herd of

elephants heading this way? No, it’s the new trainers. Here

they come again- like great, purple, crushing machines.

?Mind my book. You’re trampling on it!?

My big brother throws himself into a chair. He props his big purple feet up on one another.

?I can’t see the telly now! It’s my favourite programme. Your trainers are in the way!?. Mum says: ?those new trainers

are a menace! Take them off in the house. ?

But my brother says, ?I love my new trainers. They are great, I am never going to take them off! Not

ever!? ?Then do up

those

dangly

laces!?

sighs

mum.

?You’ll

break

your

neck!?

But

my

brother

just

clumps

outside.

His

long

laces

dangle

behind him. And his monster trainers squash all the little daisies on the grass.

I hate those new trainers. They should be banned. My brother even wants to go to bed in his new trainers. But mum says:

?I’ve never heard of anything so silly. Take them off. ? So he climbs up to his top bunk bed. He throws down his new

trainers. Whump, whump, so they land near my bottom bunk bed.

Mum

switches

off

our

light.

I

lie

in

the

dark

and

watch

the

dangerous

trainers.

They

seem

to

be

even

bigger

at

night.

They’ve got two big purple tongues that stick out at me and go, ?Ya boo.? They’ve got little eyes, like a spider. The eyes

are watc

hing me back! The trainers are alive. ?Don’t be silly,? I tell myself. Trainers can’t be alive.

I close my eyes so I can’t see the trainers any more. Then I fall asleep. But next morning, when I wake up, the trainers have

moved. There’s no doubt about it.

They are under my brother’s computer desk now. And they are neatly side by side. My

big brother didn’t move them because he is still in the top bunk, snoring. You have been out, haven’t you? I wag my finger

at the trainers. ?When we were all asleep you went out on your own didn’t you??

But the trainers don’t say a word. ?Wait until tonight,? I warn them. ?I didn’t see you go out last night because I fell

asleep. But tonight I’ll stay awake. I’ll catch you, just wait and see.?

The top bunk’s creaking. My big brother’s waking up.

A life of their own

?Your trainers are alive,? I tell him. ?They go out at night on their own, without you. You know those little metal holes

where you put your laces? Well, they aren’t lace holes. They’re eyes. Your trainers have

got lots of eyes, like spiders. Did you

know that? And they’ve got big slurpy purple tongues. ?

But my brother just groans ?you do talk a load of rubbish!? Then he turns over and goes back to sleep. Those trainers are

getting me really mad. They’re wrecki

ng my things. Today I found my crayons mashed into the carpet.

?you shouldn’t have left them on the floor,? said my brother.

But I bet those trainers did it. Clump, clump, clump. You can’t get away from them. You can hear them all over the house.

?Who squashed this chewing gum into the carpet?? shouts mum.

?it’s these

trainers,?

says

my

big

brother.

?I

haven’t

got

used

to

them

yet.?

they’re

so big

and

heavy

I

can’t

control them. They keep treading on things! ?Don’t be silly,? says mum. ?It’s your fault, not your trainers. You’re

talking as if your trainers have a life of their own.?

Mum doesn’t know it. But she’s exactly right. Those trainers do have a life of their own. They have a secret life. They go

out at night, on their own when we’re all asleep. They

must do, mustn’t they? How else could they be in a different place by

morning?

Tonight I’m going to prove it. I’m going to prove it. I’m going to follow those trainers and see where they go. I’m

going to spy on them.

It’s

night

time.

It

must

be

very

late

because

the

house

is

quiet.

Mum

and

dad

are

in

bed.

But

I’m

not

asleep.

I’m

watching those trainers, like I said I would.

It’s hard work. My eyes keep closing. ?Don’t fall asleep!? I whisper to myself. ?Stay awake!?

The trainers are behaving themselves s

o far. They haven’t moved at all. But their spider eyes are glittering in the dark. I

don’t trust them. They’re very sneaky. As soon as I close my eyes they’ll be off, on their own. But my eyelids are so heavy.

My head is dropping down. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

The

trainers

are

on

the

move!

I

knew

it.

I

knew

they

had

a

secret

life.

They’re

marching

down

the

stairs.

Clump,

clump,clump. What if they wake up mum and dad? But they don’t. Even though they’re making an awful din. I slip out of

bed and follow them. I tip-toe down the stairs in my bare feet.

At the bottom of the stairs the trainers stop. They look around. ?Ah ha,? I think. ?You’re trapped now. The front door

is locked.? but the trainers aren’t trapped. Have you ever seen a hamster squeeze through a tiny spac

e? The trainers can do

that. They squeeze, like purple toothpaste, though the letter box. First one, then the other.

Oh no, they’re escaping. I look out through the glass bit in the front door. They’re stomping down the garden path! I turn

the key in the

front door and let myself out. Mum would go mad if she knew. It’s very late. There’s a big silver moon in the

sky. And I’m out here in the garden, in my pyjamas.

But I’m on a mission. I’m finding out all about the secret life of trainers. I’m finding out what they do when we’re all

asleep. I hide behind a bush and spy on them. At first, they look very innocent. They’re walking around the garden in the

moonlight. Just walking.

?That’s not dangerous, ?I think, ?They’re just out for a walk, that’s all. A walk in the moonlight.? but no. A moth

flies by. And suddenly, the trainers spring into action. One of them throws out a lace like a lasso.

Got it! The moth flutters. But it can’t get free. Then the big purple tongue flicks out and, gulp, the moth is gone. I

can’t

believe

it!

The

trainers

aren’t

taking

a

walk.

They’re

hunting.

Hunting

for

things

to

eat.

My

brother’s

trainers

are

carnivorous!

They’re very good hunters. They guzzle everything in sight. A shiny black beetle trundles across the grass. He doesn’t

stand a chance. Flick goes the lace and he’s dragged into the trainer’s purple throat. Crunch, crunch. ?Burp!? goes the

trainer.

A worm pops its head up. Wham! Goes a trainer and stomps on it. The other trainer licks it up with its tongue. The trainers

sn

iff the air. They’re looking for something else to gobble. I hear a rustling in the bushes. A baby mouse pops out its pink

nose. Oh no! The trainers’ eyes gleam at each other. They stay very, very quiet. They’re waiting. The baby mouse darts out of

the gra

ss. ?Run, mouse, run!? I shout, ?You’re in deadly danger. The trainers will gobble you up! Run for your life!?

Leave them alone

！

But the baby mouse doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t know what danger he’s in. He doesn’t know about the carnivorous

trainers.

He pitter-

patters

nearer,

nearer.

Fast

as

you

can

blink, the

laces

flick out. He’s tied up

like

an

Egyptian

mummy!

A big

purple tongue slides out and --

?will you stop shouting?? says my brother. ?I’m trying to get some sleep!? I sit up in bed.

?I saw them. I

saw your trainers. They were out in the garden hunting. They crunch beetles. They lick up worms. They tied a

baby mouse up like a mummy. ?

?what? ? says my brother, rubbing his eyes. ?Did you say a baby mouse?? ?Yes,? I cry. ?And I can prove it. Look,

they

’re not where you left them, are they? They’re in a different place!?

My brother looks down from the top bunk bed. The trainers aren’t where he threw them. They’re neatly side by side, next

to the book case.

Mum switches on the light. ?What’s the matter?

Who was shouting?? ?He was,? says my brother,

pointing at me. ?He’s being silly, as usual. He says he saw my trainers try to eat a baby mouse. He says they’ve been out in

our garden hunting!? ?Well, why have they moved over there? I shout at him.? ?They weren’t there when we went to

sleep.

That

proves

they’ve

been

out

somewhere.?

?Oh,

that,?

says

mum.

?I

moved

them.

I

always

come

in

when