Just Crazy (6 page)

The playground? How old does she think we are?

‘But, Mum,' I say, ‘playgrounds are for kids.'

‘Don't be silly,' says Mum. ‘Playgrounds are for everybody.'

‘Why don't
you
go down there then?' I say.

‘Well,' says Mum, ‘because at my age swings and seesaws and whizzy-dizzys make me feel ill, but if I was your age I'd be down there in a flash.'

I look at Danny.

Danny looks at me.

‘That's it!' I say. ‘Great idea, Mum! Can we take Sooty?'

‘Sure,' says Mum, a little surprised by my sudden change of mind. ‘But no more smoking!'

‘Okay,' I say. ‘Did you hear that, Sooty? No more smoking!'

Mum rolls her eyes.

We grab Sooty and drag him down the driveway, across the street and down to the playground.

‘This ought to do the trick,' I say to Danny. ‘Chocolate, smoking and swinging — a lethal combination. Even for a dog with a cast-iron gut like Sooty.'

Sooty digs his claws into the footpath the whole way. Sometimes I swear he can understand English. I have to drag him by the collar while Danny pushes him along from behind.

Finally we make it to the playground.

‘Gee,' says Danny. ‘This place has changed.'

He's right. The playground is not what it used to be. They've removed all the old metal stuff we used to play on and replaced it with a load of brightly coloured plastic junk. It's strictly for babies. There are still swings but they're not the big ones — just the ones that look like rubber underpants with little safety chains across the front. Still, they'll be perfect for Sooty.

He's not too keen on the idea, though. He's straining to get away.

‘Don't worry, Sooty,' I say. ‘We're not mad at you. We're just going to have a bit of fun.'

I try to pick him up, but he's twisting and turning and I can't get a proper grip.

‘Give me a hand, Danny,' I say.

But Danny is not beside me. I look up. He's climbing across the top of a yellow dome.

‘Hey!' he calls. ‘Your mum was right. This is pretty good! We should come here more often.'

‘Danny!' I yell. ‘Get over here right now! Don't you realise what's at stake?'

‘Just one more go?' he says.

‘Danny!'

Danny jumps off the dome and comes running over.

I put my hands around Sooty's chest and hold him just above the swing. As I lower him into the rubber seat, Danny pulls Sooty's hind legs through the legholes. I pull the chain across and lock it into position.

I run around behind the swing, pull it back and push it as hard as I can.

Sooty goes swinging up into the air. He barks crazily. The swing comes whooshing back and I push it even harder. He barks even louder.

‘Hey!' says a voice behind us. ‘Take that dog out of there!'

I turn around.

It's my neighbour, Mr Broadbent. He doesn't like me very much, I think it's got something to do with the time I accidentally set his fence on fire.

‘Let him go!' he says.

‘But Sooty likes it,' I say. ‘He just loves the swing.'

‘Then why is he barking like that?' says Mr Broadbent.

‘He's barking for joy,' I say, giving the swing another push. All I've got to do is to
keep Mr Broadbent talking. A couple more swings should do it. Just a couple more.

‘If you don't let that dog out of there I'm going to ring the RSPCA,' says Mr Broadbent.

‘Actually it's the RSPCA who told me to do this,' I say. ‘They said swinging is good for dogs. It makes them mentally happy. You should try it.'

‘I don't have a dog,' he says.

‘I meant for you,' I say.

I push Sooty again.

‘Are you going to stop that or do I have to come over there and make you?' says Mr Broadbent.

‘Just one more and I'm through,' I say.

I give Sooty one last big push.

Sooty flies up, up, up into the air.

But he doesn't come back down again.

He keeps going.

He flies out of the swing like he's been shot out of a cannon. He travels across the park and lands out of sight behind some trees.

Mr Broadbent shakes his head.

‘That poor dog,' he says.

‘How could I know that was going to happen?' I say. ‘This playground equipment is dangerous. The seatbelts are hopeless!'

I grab Danny.

‘Come on,' I say. ‘We have to catch him. He could spew at any moment!'

We run towards the trees.

We find Sooty walking around and around the base of a large pine tree.

‘There he is!' says Danny. ‘Looks like he's going to be sick.'

‘Shush,' I say. ‘I don't want him to know we're here. He might run off.'

We hide behind a park bench and watch him.

Sooty circles the tree.

Then he stops.

Maybe the combination of chocolate, smoke, swinging and flying through the air has done the trick. He's finally going to be sick.

But Sooty doesn't throw up. He lifts his leg and wees on the tree trunk.

Danny giggles.

‘Having fun, boys?' says a voice behind us.

I turn around.

Oh no.

I'm staring at a big slobbering Rottweiler.

I look up.

It's Roseanne O'Reilly . . . and Lisa
Mackney. They must be taking Roseanne's Rottweiler for a walk.

Roseanne turns to Lisa.

‘Spying on a dog having a wee is kind of pathetic, don't you think?' she says.

‘No,' says Lisa. ‘It's not kind of pathetic. It's definitely pathetic.'

‘No, you don't understand,' I say. ‘I can explain . . .'

‘Yeah,' says Danny. ‘We didn't want to watch him having a wee. We were hoping he was going to be sick.'

Lisa and Roseanne look horrified.

‘That's even worse,' says Roseanne. ‘Come on, Lisa. Let's get away from these psychos.'

They walk off. Lisa looks sadly back at me over her shoulder.

Damn. Of all the parks she could have come into, why did she have to come into this one? And why right now? I want to run after her and explain, but I can't leave Sooty. Stupid dog. This is all his fault.

Roseanne calls to her Rottweiler.

He's over at the tree sniffing at the place where Sooty just lifted his leg.

Uh-oh.

They start growling and circling each
other. The hairs rise into spiky patterns on their backs.

The Rottweiler lunges at Sooty and sinks his teeth into Sooty's throat.

‘No, Slayer!' screams Roseanne.

I jump up and run towards them.

I grab Sooty by the tail and pull him up into the air. But Slayer comes too, still attached to Sooty's neck.

For a moment I'm holding both dogs in the air, but then Slayer loses his grip and falls to the ground. He jumps back up and snaps at Sooty.

I swing Sooty away from him, but he follows, lunging and snapping. I have to keep swinging Sooty around and around and around.

‘Do something, Roseanne!' screams Lisa.

‘No, Slayer,' calls Roseanne again. ‘Bad dog!'

‘Go, Andy!' yells Danny.

‘Do something, Danny!' I scream.

Danny picks up a pine cone and throws it at Slayer.

It hits me in the head. Ouch! Right where I bumped it earlier under the house.

‘Sorry!' says Danny.

He tries again. This one is a better shot. It hits Slayer in the side.