Milo and the Pirate Sisters (8 page)
Read Milo and the Pirate Sisters Online
Authors: Mary Arrigan
‘
T
hat new soccer coach is dead cool, isn’t he, Milo?’ Shane asked on our way home from practice a few days later. ‘You know,’ he went on, ‘I think I might get to like soccer.’
‘Yeah, it’s OK,’ I said. ‘We’re still rubbish, though.’
‘No, we’re not,’ Shane hotly declared. ‘We’re doing pretty good.’
Well, the biggest surprise came the next day when Mister Sullivan announced that we’d have a trial match to pick a team to play against Saint Mel’s in a week’s time.
‘Great,’ said Willie Jones. ‘We’ll get to go to that posh place where sixth class went. Do we get to stay over too?’
‘No,’ said Mister Sullivan. ‘It’s our turn to host a match.’
‘Aww,’ moaned Willie. ‘Count me out.’
‘I was going to do that anyway, Willie,’ said Mister Sullivan, grinning. ‘Running
away
from the ball doesn’t score any points for us.’
Well, two days later, Mister Sullivan tried us out on the soccer pitch. I laughed when Shane’s name was called out. I didn’t laugh when my name was called.
‘But I’m useless. Really, I am, Mister Sullivan,’ I protested.
‘You’ll do, Milo,’ he grinned. ‘Always look at the upside, not the downside.’
Shane said we should practise our moves, so, after school, we fetched his soccer ball, which had hardly ever been used, and headed to the pitch. I just couldn’t get over his enthusiasm. Two days ago, he had even bribed me with Big Ella’s chocolate biscuits to watch a couple of matches on telly with him.
‘Oh no,’ he muttered when we came near the pitch. ‘This is all we need – not!’
Coming down the road towards us were Wedge and Crunch.
‘Hide the ball, Milo,’ said Shane, shoving it into my hands.
‘Hide it where, Shane?’
‘Up your jumper. Quick!’
Did he really think they wouldn’t notice skinny me with a sudden big belly like his?
‘Oh darn it,’ he muttered, ‘they’ve seen us. Brace yourself, Milo.’
That was easy for him to say now that I was the one holding the ball. Running away wasn’t an option.
‘Perhaps if we avoid eye contact, they’ll just pass by,’ Shane whispered.
‘Hey,’ the two bullies said together.
‘Hey,’ we said back.
‘Nice ball,’ said Crunch.
‘Are you guys on the junior soccer team?’ asked Wedge.
‘Yes, we are,’ Shane answered defensively, waiting for the jeers and insults.
‘You must be good so,’ went on Wedge.
‘No, we’re not.’ I felt I had to say it before they would. ‘We’re rubbish.’ There, I thought, those two would have no stinging
words to throw at us now because we did it ourselves.
‘Speak for yourself,’ Shane hissed in my ear until he realised what I was trying to do.
‘Yeah?’ asked Crunch.
‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘Total rubbish.’ Now maybe they’d leave us alone and go away.
‘We could give you a few tips,’ said Wedge. ‘Come on and we’ll have a few kicks around.’
Oh shoot! My great plan flopped like a pigeon’s poo.
‘Nice one, Milo,’ Shane hissed in my ear as we followed them. ‘We’re dead.’
I knew that, but there was no turning back now. I shut my eyes for three seconds and wished for a load of guys to surge in for a game – then we’d have to leave. Needless to say, my message didn’t get to whoever looks after wusses like me and Shane up in the clouds. We kicked the ball around for a
couple of minutes. Then Wedge came over to me. I braced myself for whatever was going to happen.
‘Where will you be playing?’ he asked.
‘Here in the field,’ I began. What was I saying? I was really asking for it.
‘I mean what position?’
‘Oh, centre field where Mister Sullivan says I can’t do much wrong.’
‘Good,’ Wedge nodded. ‘And what would you do if you saw a guy charging at you with the ball at his feet?’
‘I’d get it off him,’ I said.
‘No, you wouldn’t,’ snorted Shane.
‘Yes, he would,’ put in Wedge. ‘Listen, kid,’ he said, pulling me towards him. ‘Almost all blokes can only kick with their right foot, OK?’
I nodded my head.
‘So, you stay on the right side. The guy
with the ball will pretend to go left, but you stay on the right.’
‘And what position are you, big guy?’ asked Crunch.
Shane ignored the half-insult. ‘I’m the goalie. So far my average is six goals a game,’ he muttered.
‘So what will you do when a forward comes towards you with the ball at his feet?’ Crunch asked.
‘I usually jump up and down to put him off. It has never worked,’ answered Shane.
‘Next time,’ said Crunch, ‘step out a few feet from the goal-line to narrow the angle and be ready to dive at his feet.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, dive at his feet. Wait until he is just going to shoot. No problem. Right?’
‘Huh, no problem at all then,’ Shane chuckled.
‘So,’ said Wedge. ‘We’re quits now. Best of luck, GIRLS!’
‘Yeah, right!’ laughed Crunch as they sprinted away.
M
um and Dad were going to the cinema that night, and Big Ella insisted that I stay at her place.
‘The boys can help me with a few chores,’ she told Mum.
That didn’t sound great, but at least there’d be the reward of a bun or two.
She was packing big boxes into the boot
of her car when Shane and I got there after the football practice. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘You’re just in time, boys, to carry the rest of the stuff.’
‘What’s all this stuff for, Gran?’ Shane asked.
‘We’re going to the mill,’ she replied.
Shane and I groaned.
‘Can’t Mister Lewis come to our house like he always does?’ asked Shane.
Big Ella just smiled. Shane and me knew that once she decides on something there’s no stopping her.
We did as she asked and packed boxes into the boot, and what didn’t fit there we squashed into the back seat with us.
‘What’s with all the boxes? Are we going to stay in the mill, Gran?’ Shane asked nervously.
‘Don’t be daft, child.’ She laughed. ‘I just have a few things to put right.’
When Big Ella parked the car at the bridge, we hauled all those boxes through the field to the mill and wished we had the trolley that Mister Lewis had nicked.
Then we struggled upstairs and through the makeshift door.
‘It’s alright, Mister Lewis,’ I said when I saw dust rising. ‘It’s just us and Big Ella.’
‘Ah,’ he said, as he came together. ‘I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time, Big Ella. I was just about to clean up another mess.’
‘No worries, Mister Lewis,’ she replied. ‘It’s not you I have come to see. Now, tell me, where are these ladies who cause you so much trouble?’
W
hen Mister Lewis told Big Ella more stories about the carry-on of his shrieking neighbours, she tut-tutted and shook her head. Once, she even sighed sadly and said, ‘The poor dears.’
‘Poor dears, my eye,’ said Mister Lewis indignantly. ‘They come in here and trash the place, looking for my food. Nightmares, that’s what they are.’
‘I knew there was something up at the
mill,’ Big Ella said as she patted Mister Lewis’s gloved hand. ‘Every time you’ve come to my house recently, you’ve seemed to shrink a bit more. We’ll sort all this out, trust me. There have been incidents of the walking dead in Africa. I’ve brought several things that might help. So, boys,’ she said, getting up from her chair, ‘let’s have a cup of tea while we wait to meet these three and put them right.’
But Mister Lewis was shaking his head.
‘It won’t work, Big Ella,’ he sighed. ‘They will just come back and trash it all again.’
Big Ella put her pudgy hands on her big hips. ‘They’ll be dealing with
me
,’ she said in a tone of voice that would cut through a fridge. ‘Let’s set the table for tea.’
She opened the boxes and put out plates of buns, chocolate biscuits and two different kinds of cakes.
‘Wow!’ said Shane, reaching out towards the buns.
‘Not yet, Shane,’ said Big Ella.
‘Why, Gran?
‘Trust me, lad,’ she smiled. ‘We must wait for our guests.’
‘What guests?’ asked Shane. ‘You don’t mean …?’ he spluttered.
‘You wouldn’t!’ said Mister Lewis, his face like putty again.
I said nothing because my teeth were locked with fear.
It wasn’t long before we heard the screeching sisters, back from their mischief.
The shrill shouting stopped when they came into our room.
‘What is happening here, old man?’ Eulalia snarled. ‘And who is this big dark-faced woman …?’
Mellie was shaking her head, and tiny
Tara was eying me and Shane with an impish grin. Then they saw the food and the three of them made a dash towards the table, Eulalia waving a gaudy silver sword at Big Ella. Big Ella folded her huge arms and stood before them.
‘Not so much as a morsel will you have until you learn manners,’ she said. Eulalia and Mellie laughed and took another step forward, pulling Tara along. Big Ella barred them, her big body wider than the three sisters together. She snatched the sword from Eulalia and snapped it in two. Then she grabbed Eulalia and pushed her face right up to hers.
‘Not one more step, my dear,’ she said in a low, menacing voice as she put her hand in her pocket and produced a small, hideous African head. ‘This,’ she said slowly, ‘is the shrunken head of my dead ancestor, whose
magic powers have come to me. My anger towards you is mighty! You are not good people.’
Well, that certainly stopped the sisters – as well as scaring the wits out of me and Shane. Eulalia and Mellie backed away. Tara stood her ground, her eyes focused on the head. ‘Will you really set that spirit upon us?’ she whispered.
‘Indeed I shall, and much worse,’ replied Big Ella, ‘if you three refuse to repair all the damage you have done to Mister Lewis. And another thing,’ she roared on. ‘Was it you lot who frightened the poor horses away?
‘Yes, it was them,’ said Tara. ‘I told them not to.’
‘What
are
you two? Are you some sort of female rustlers?’
‘We are river pirates,’ said Eulalia proudly, touching her battered pirate hat.
‘River pirates? Pah!’ laughed Tara. ‘You two are river cowards who hide in the bushes and throw stones at people who are fishing or just out walking.’
‘Then they must be the ones who stole the little boat. Wedge and Crunch were blamed for that,’ I said.
‘No, that was me,’ said Tara. ‘I hid it so that they couldn’t sink it. So,’ she said to her sisters as she stood beside Big Ella, ‘some river pirates you two have turned out to be. River scarecrows, more like.’
‘Enough of this!’ yelled Big Ella. ‘We’re all going to clean up Mister Lewis’s home and make it comfortable.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Mister Lewis. ‘I can look after all that …’
‘No, dear,’ said Big Ella. ‘You’re very stressed, so the ones who caused that must be the ones to help us fix it.’
‘That’s fair,’ Tara agreed. ‘Come here, sisters,’ she hollered.
‘Only if that big lady puts away the shrunken head,’ cried Eulalia.
‘Done,’ said Big Ella. ‘He will be in my pocket all the time – unless there’s trouble, of course. Come and help.’
‘What about those cakes, Gran?’ asked Shane.
‘We shall all eat them together nicely when the work is done,’ Big Ella replied.
‘We have to wait that long?’ protested Mellie.
‘After we’ve all washed,’ said Big Ella.
Well, that sent Shane and me into the battle. Everyone was shouting at the same time.
‘QUIET! Will you all be quiet, PLEASE!’
‘Ah, Mister Lewis,’ smiled Big Ella. ‘At last you have found your
real
voice again. Do
hold on to it. Now, to work everyone.’
‘Gran,’ Shane whispered nervously as Big Ella handed paintbrushes to us, ‘that shrunken head thing, is it real?’
‘Of course not, luv,’ she chuckled. ‘I picked it up in the charity shop.’