So Feral! (2 page)

‘I don’t mind.’

‘Let’s do it!’

Finn and Josh are sitting on either side of the kitchen table. I’m standing between them. Ryan and Elliot are perched on the kitchen benches. There’s not enough chairs for them.

I lean over and look in each goop bowl. There’s swirly bits and floaty bits and colours of the rainbow. ‘You two sure you haven’t spewed already?’ I joke.

‘Hey,’ says Elliot. ‘That reminds me of a joke.’

‘Not now,’ I say, but I can’t stop him.

‘What’s yellow and stupid?’ asks Elliot.

We try and ignore him but that’s impossible. ‘Thick custard!’ he says. ‘Get it?’

Dirty looks shoot his way.

‘I’ll start,’ says Finn, holding out his bowl and putting a stop to Elliot’s nonsense. ‘One tablespoon of peanut butter — extra crunchy.’

‘I love peanut butter,’ says Josh. ‘A whack of mayonnaise.’

Josh puts down his bowl. ‘Peanut butteraise,’ he taunts.
‘Mm-mm
. Delicious!’

Not much of a Goop competition, I’m thinking.

‘Green cordial,’ says Finn. ‘To colour your day.’

That’s more like it, I’m thinking. Josh says, ‘Green’s my favourite colour,’ but I know he’s bluffing. He hates, positively hates, lime cordial. Ever since his sister thought it’d be real funny to spike his drink at a family gathering. Vodka, I heard. Josh spewed green on the floors and green on the walls and green on everything in between. Even managed to hit the ceiling. Now, he can’t even look at lime cordial without feeling sick.

‘Hard luck,’ I say, giving Josh my sympathy vote.

‘It’ll be cool,’ says Josh, sounding braver than I am sure he’s feeling.

Finn continues. ‘One raw egg.’

‘Sounds like a health shake,’ says Josh, covering his mouth and pretending to yawn.

‘And a can of dog food.’ Quickly, Finn adds, ‘It was in the pantry!’

‘Dog food!’ Josh turns to me. ‘That’s not legit, is

it, Red?’

Ryan decides to chime in. ‘My brother ate dog food from the dog’s bowl when he was one year old. It didn’t kill him.’

‘That makes me feel heaps better,’ says Josh sarcastically. He turns to me to judge. ‘Red?’

When I saw Finn put it in I was torn. But then I remembered some program I’d seen on the TV, something about these oldies who ate dog food ‘cause they couldn’t afford to eat people food. I think they were protesting about the pension. ‘I saw some wrinklies eat it on TV,’ I say. ‘I guess it counts.’

Josh sits at the end of the table, swooshing around the contents of his bowl. I’m wondering if I’m going to wear it when eventually he says, ‘My turn.’ With his eyes boring into Finn he says, ‘One jar of mustard — ‘

‘A whole jar!’ exclaims Finn.

‘A whole jar of mustard,’ repeats Josh. I can tell he’s enjoying Finn’s discomfort.

Elliot leans over. ‘Don’t worry, Finn,’ he says. ‘You won’t have to eat the whole jar. There’ll be other stuff in the cup, too.’

‘Great!’
exclaims Finn.

Josh continues. ‘A dash of sweet chilli sauce — ‘

‘How much is a dash?’ interrupts Finn.

Josh shrugs. ‘I dunno, Sunshine. A slosh — a slurp — a big dribble.’

‘Better be a dash,’ says Finn, looking worried.

‘Ice cream,’ continues Josh. Finn’s face lights up. ‘With two crushed cloves of garlic.’ The lights go down. ‘That’s how many?’ Josh asks, acting the innocent. ‘Four?’

‘No, five,’ says Finn, half getting to his feet. ‘There’s
two
cloves of garlic. If you’ve put in something else you’re a cheat!’

Josh grips his cup. Knuckles show white. He goes back to stirring his goop. It’s a tidal wave with potential.

Either Finn doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care. He starts counting on his fingers. ‘Garlic, two. Mustard, three. Chilli, four. Ice cream, five!’ He glares at Josh. ‘That’s your limit. There shouldn’t be anything more!’

Josh gets to his feet. The sound of the chair scraping on tiles gives me the shivers. ‘It’s only four. Red!’ he appeals to me. ‘Whether it’s one or two cloves it’s still only the one
ingredient.’

I swear, one day he’ll be a lawyer.

‘The rules say five
ingredients,’
Josh goes on. He’s a real Queen’s Counsel, he is. ‘They do not say five
things
. I have only four ingredients.’ He’s looking pretty smug with his summing up.

Finn isn’t convinced. ‘Red?’ he asks, looking at me.

I take my time with my decision. I
did
say five ingredients when I was laying down the rules. I think of Mum’s recipe books. They list the ingredients. But the quantities mean something different. ‘He’s right,’ I say. ‘Sorry, Finn. He is allowed one more ingredient.’

Finn kicks at a chair leg and slams the table with his fist.

Poor Finn! He must’ve been trying to win on a technicality — to get out of eating the goop.

‘My final ingredient …’ says Josh, enjoying the suspense, ‘is …’

‘Get on with it,’ growls Finn.

‘My fifth ingredient,’ announces Josh, ‘is olive oil.’ He’s staring Finn down. ‘Unfiltered, extra-virgin olive oil. Not for the faint-hearted. Don’t worry, Sunshine. There’s just a splash.’

Mm-mmm, I think. Mustard ice cream, with chilli, olive oil and garlic.

I kick off the game with the following orders. ‘Pour your goop into a cup. Swap it. Then it’s down the hatch. Whoever finishes first is the winner.’

‘Without barfing,’ adds Elliot.

‘No barfing,’ I agree.

Finn tips the contents of his bowl into one cup and slides it over to Josh.

Josh does the same, then stands up saying, ‘Better go outside. Or Finn’ll make a mess of this kitchen.’

‘Very funny,’ says Finn.

I think of Mum and her
or else
. ‘Good idea,’ I agree, also standing up.

I head for the back yard. Josh and Finn follow, Elliot and Ryan behind.

Josh and Finn sit opposite each other on the grass, the rest of us in a semi-circle around them. The cups are in the middle.

‘What the heck!’ says Finn. Without waiting for the countdown he grabs his cup and puts it to his lips.

‘Hey!’ says Josh. ‘Now who’s cheating!’ He, too, grabs his cup of goop and starts to throw it down.

Finn seems to be swallowing, but with a mouthful like that it’s hard to tell.

Same for Josh. He’s holding his nose, trying to get past the dog-food smell.

Maybe it’s not the smell? I look at the goop. No, it’s the texture that’s going to do him in. Big meaty chunks have floated to the surface. They’re pink and lumpy and bob up and down in the green cordial. Bet there’s heaps more on the bottom.

Josh is trying to swallow and chew at the same time. It’s dodgy. Rivers of green are gushing down his chin. There’s brown flakes in the rivers, too small for dog food — probably the crunchy bits of peanut butter. Josh pauses to take a quick breath. A thick gelatinous paste is stuck to the roof of his mouth. Those squished bits between his teeth will be hard to budge.

He reminds me of the cannibal joke. You know the one: What did the cannibal have for breakfast?

I decide to concentrate on Finn. Take my mind off Josh’s blobby bits.

Finn’s taking a breather as well. More than a breather, really. He is gulping in huge lungfuls of air, fanning his face at the same time. His face is pure white, except for the yellow mustard. The chilli must’ve drowned out the ice cream. I watch as beads of sweat roll down his forehead and head for his top lip. Finn’s looking hotter than anything a fireman could handle.

I’m beginning to feel sorry for both of them.

Josh distracts me with some major throat-clearing. He’s wearing a marrowbone jelly moustache and has
aged ten years. He manages to rasp, ‘Give up, Sunshine?’ with more than a hint of desperation.

Finn shakes his head. He can’t speak!

Josh goes to say something more but all that comes out is a gurgle.

Both cups are still half-full.

I put on my Judge Red voice and ask, ‘Would you like to call it a tie?’

In answer, Josh picks up his cup.
Glug, glug, glug
. He’s going to do it! But then he stops. The look on his face spells trouble.

‘Duck!’ I yell, trying to move out of the way.

A huge burp rips. I brace myself. But the only thing that hits the air is the smell of canned beef.

Even Josh looks pleasantly surprised. He grins. Again, he picks up his cup. He tilts the cup to his lips but keeps his eye on Finn as he says, ‘Last few mouthfuls, Sunshine.’

As bad as it is for Josh, it is worse for Finn. He has started to froth. Saliva foams from the corners of his mouth, spume slides from his nose, his eyes gush. His body is blistered with sweat. He’s moaning incoherently. I catch the words
dash of chilli
as he goes down.

‘Done!’ As proof, Josh up-ends his cup, earning himself a cheer from Ryan and Elliot.

‘Urrgh.’
Finn’s not looking too good. He burps, too. A vanillary, mustardy, garlicky burp floats my way.

Finn burps again. A bubble slips out. And then comes the fountain. Like a drilling rig that’s hit oil, spraying the whole back yard.

I dive out of the way.

Ryan and Elliot trip over themselves in their efforts to get clear. Mustard and olive oil spear into the air. Josh is too slow. He is moving like a drunk. In seconds he is covered. He’s wearing greasy yellow crocodile skin.

A series of after-shocks follow, each with their own gusher.

‘Good one, Sunshine,’ croaks Josh.

‘Another successful game of Goop!’ announces Elliot.

‘I win,’ splutters Josh, wiping his mouth on his underarm, the only clean patch on his shirt.

I look at Finn, who has emptied his guts. I look at Josh, who is wearing them. Who am I to argue?

‘Josh wins!’ I announce.

It is the day after. We’re back at my place. I can’t believe we got away with Goop but we did.

As usual it’s back to the competition.

‘How about Knockdown?’ asks Ryan.

‘Or Dead Leg?’ asks Elliot.

‘They’re both not fair,’ I say. ‘Josh’s heaps bigger than Finn. He’ll win easy.’

‘You saying I’m gutless?’ demands Finn, puffing himself up and grabbing my shirt.

‘No.’ I remove Finn’s hand and direct my next comment to both him and Josh. ‘Why don’t you two let up? Call it quits. The comp’s pretty even.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ interjects Josh. ‘I’m winning.’

Finn’s shaking his head. ‘No, Red,’ he says, quietly. ‘I’m no quitter. Besides, Josh is only two ahead.’

‘Spit Ball, then?’ interrupts Ryan, his mind still on track.

‘No!’ I’m almost shouting. ‘This is getting too serious. Forget the competition. Let’s go back to having
fun.’

Then I notice that Finn’s developed a keen interest in our clothesline. ‘What about a swimming race?’ he asks, completely ignoring me.

‘A swimming comp is boring,’ moans Ryan.

‘No, it’s not,’ says Finn, which takes me by surprise because at last year’s swimming carnival Finn lost every time. Finn continues, all the while looking at the clothesline. ‘Let’s have a swimming competition. But not freestyle — butterfly.’

‘You’re on,’ says Josh.

‘Are you mad?’ I whisper in Finn’s ear. ‘Remember last year? Miss Talliope’s dress shrank when she saved you!’

Finn has a look on his face like he remembers. But he’s smiling. ‘You game for butterfly?’ he repeats to Josh.

‘Sure, Sunshine,’ Josh answers. ‘Only this time the sun’ll be shining on me.’

‘We’ll see,’ says Finn.

I give up. They can kill each other for all I care!

Finn pulls down the waistband of his shorts, revealing a pair of bright yellow swimmers and says, ‘I’m ready, if you’re ready.’

Josh frowns. ‘I’m wearing jeans. I don’t have my swimmers.’

‘I do,’ announces Elliot.

‘Me too,’ adds Ryan.

Finn’s wearing that funny look again. ‘Can’t you borrow a pair?’ He looks around the yard. ‘Like these,’ he says, striding to the washing line and pulling down a pair of fluoro pink shorts. ‘Yours?’ he asks me.

I shake my head and say, ‘Rob’s.’

‘How about these, then?’ Finn asks, holding out the shorts to Josh. ‘Colour too
hot
for you?’

‘Whatever!’ says Josh. He shrugs, takes the shorts from Finn and pulls down his dacks at the same time.

I make a mental note to have the shorts washed and dried before Rob gets home.

When we get to the pool, Finn throws down his towel and heads straight for the starting blocks.

I run after him. ‘There’s still time to pull out,’

I say.

Finn keeps striding along. ‘I don’t want to pull out,’ he says. ‘I’m sick of Josh thinking he’s so good. And I’m sick of him calling me “Sunshine”. He treats me like a loser!’

I stop in my tracks. I can see Finn’s point. ‘Okay!’ I call after him. ‘But swim in the lane closest to the wall. I can get to you more easily.’

Finn flaps his hand to show he’s heard. Then he turns round and calls, ‘Tell Josh to get on the blocks and wait for me. I’ll be back in a minute!’

I head back to the others and tell Josh that Finn’ll meet him at the starting blocks.

‘What a loser,’ says Josh with a laugh. ‘Must be going for a leak!’

Elliot and Ryan laugh with him.

I don’t join in. I’m thinking of the race. Josh Carruthers and the Sunshine Kid. I know who’s gonna win.

‘Wish me luck,’ calls Josh, swaggering off. I watch him take his place on the blocks.

Elliot and Ryan head to the other end of the pool to judge the winner. I hang down at the start, ready to play lifesaver.

I look at my watch. Finn’s taking forever.

‘Must have the runs!’ hollers Josh, clutching his bum and laughing.

Finally, Finn turns up. ‘Sorry about that,’ he says. ‘I got sidetracked. Ready now.’ He looks Josh in the eye. ‘One lap. No stopping, no changing strokes. Butterfly all the way. Okay?’

There’s something about Finn … He seems too confident.

As he’s stepping up on the blocks, the loudspeaker comes on. It crackles a minute, then a
voice booms out. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. Boys and girls. May I have your attention.’ I frown. What’s going on?