So Feral! (3 page)

The voice over the loudspeaker continues. ‘Would you please clear the pool. Today, we are witness to a special event. A butterfly race between two boys — Josh Carruthers, in the pink, and Finn “The Sunshine Kid” Hartley. He’s the one wearing yellow.’

People sitting around the pool applaud. Some are calling, ‘Go, Josh!’ Others, ‘Go, Sunshine Kid!’

I walk over to the starting blocks. ‘What’s happening?’ I ask Finn.

At the same time Josh hisses, ‘Yeah. What’s going on?’

Finn shrugs and says, ‘It’ll be more interesting with an audience.’

‘The more people who see me cream you the better,’ is Josh’s reply. He’s good at the bluff.

Everyone has cleared the pool. They’re lined up around the sides, sometimes two deep. I can’t believe it. Why would Finn want to embarrass himself in public like this?

‘Take your marks!’ calls the loudspeaker. ‘Ready …’

Finn and Josh step up onto the block.

‘Set …’

Josh bends down for a racing dive. He’s showing enough crack to get a job as a bicycle stand.

‘Go!’

The boys leave the blocks together but Josh hits
the water first. He’s gliding underwater, biding his time. Finn surfaces first. I hear him suck in some air. Metres ahead, up comes Josh. He starts his stroke, rearing out of the water. In two strokes he leaves Finn for dead. The crowd starts to cheer.

I watch as powerful arms arc out of the water. Josh looks like a whale beaching. A bum starts to wiggle. The cheer turns into a roar.

In the lane next-door only two hands, and maybe an elbow, manage to flap on the surface. Finn is making a complete idiot of himself. He moves like a dying sardine. I can’t bear to watch.

The shouts from the crowd are deafening. Most are chanting, ‘Josh, Josh, Josh!’ Occasionally, there’s a, ‘Go, Sunshine!’

This is the end of Finn. I’m crucified for him. I want to look away but I can’t.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The chanting falters. It stops. A gasp goes up.

Finn’s drowning! I think to myself. I start pulling off my T-shirt when I hear, ‘Moon! Moon! Moon!’

I falter, thinking, We’re talking Sunshine, you fools. Not Moon.

More and more take up the cry. ‘Moon! Moon! Moon!’

I scan the water. And then I know why.

I see the Sunshine Kid … I burst out laughing. He’s with the Moonshine Kid!

Josh is wiggling like crazy — up, down, up, down, up down. The perfect butterfly style.
But fluoro pink is now fluoro white! Josh is mooning every person at the pool. His bum looks like one of those giant jelly-blubbers pulsing through the water. No, better make that an octopus — an octopus with an enormous dome-shaped head and a huge eye.

I laugh from the toes up. I can’t stop laughing.

As Josh moves, his bum is going blink, blink, blink.

If that was me, I’d stop. Not Josh. He’ll do anything to win.

Finn’s flailing about three metres behind. I don’t think he’s noticed. Guess you can’t see much when your whole body is underwater. Hang on a sec. A fist punches the air. He’s seen him! The fist gives a victory salute.

I wet myself.

The crowd cheers.

And Josh goes wink, wink, wink.

You’ve got to admire the guy!

Josh comes in a good twenty seconds ahead of Finn. He taps the wall. He’s won! But instead of getting out, he snatches a breath then plunges deep.

Probably going back for his strides, I think.

When Finn comes in, the crowd goes wild. Finn’s so tired he has to roll himself out of the pool. He lies there for a minute, then staggers to his feet.

By now, Josh has made his way to the side. He, too, climbs out, his face as pink as his swimmers.

Finn strides over. He shakes Josh’s hand. ‘Really wowed the crowd! Had them eating out of your …’ he pats Josh on the bum and says with a giggle ‘ … er, hand.’

‘Ha, ha,’ snarls Josh, pushing Finn away.

‘From now on I’ll call you JC,’ says Finn. ‘Not for Josh Carruthers. For Jesus Christ. You sure crawled on water!’

‘Very funny!’

‘Don’t be a bad sport,’ says Finn. ‘You won. Losing your shorts was just a crowd pleaser.’ ‘It was bad luck,’ I add.

‘It wasn’t a case of bad luck,’ says Finn, quiet-like.

Josh looks taken aback. He pushes me aside and stands in front of Finn. ‘If it wasn’t bad luck what was it, then?’

Finn chuckles. ‘It was your swimming costume.’

‘How d’you mean?’

Finn gives Josh a nudge. ‘I tricked you,’ he says with a smirk. ‘Into wearing Rob’s shorts. I saw them on the clothesline.’

Josh glowers. ‘I still don’t get it,’ he snaps.

‘Me either,’ adds Ryan.

‘Uh-huh,’ agrees Elliot.

I think of our washing on the line. I think of Rob. Rob who never swims! And then I get it. I turn to Josh and say, ‘No wonder your shorts fell down. They’re Rob’s boxers!’

‘Useless for swimming,’ explains Finn. He punches Josh on the arm. ‘Red’s right. I knew the
boxers would fall down. Why else would I choose butterfly?’

Josh’s face turns white. ‘You mean …’

‘It was a set-up,’ Finn finishes for him. ‘To teach you a lesson.’

‘What lesson?’ growls Josh.

Finn plants himself in front of Josh. ‘Next time you call me Sunshine, remember the place where the sun don’t shine!’

Whhhoooosh!

The thing sailed past Gavin’s ear, close enough to part his hair.

Kerthump!

It hit the tree he was hiding behind and …
Whack!

… thudded to a halt.

Gavin lurched backwards, grunting as he tried to get out of its way.

Lucky he’s a lousy aim, he thought, kneeling down to inspect the object.

Protruding tongue. Demon eyes. Shrunken head … Head!

‘Aaaaaagh!’
screamed Gavin, ejecting himself over the fence at the same time.

‘You’ll be next,’ threatened Mr Bellows, ‘if I catch you on my property again!’

Gavin bolted down the street, his
‘Eeeeeegh!’
slicing the air. Past Shellingham’s nursery, past Mrs Pie’s pawnshop, down the lane to the train station and over the walkway, Gavin didn’t stop. Breathing in raggedy gasps he fought down his fear.

It wasn’t till three blocks later, with his home in sight, that Gavin allowed himself to slow down.

‘What’s up with you?’ asked Thomas, his older brother, when Gavin staggered into the TV room. ‘You’re whiter than an undertaker’s apprentice.’

Gavin gulped as an image came into focus — the wide mouth, lolling tongue and wisps of black hair. ‘I feel like an undertaker’s apprentice,’ he gasped as he threw himself into a chair. ‘I’ve just seen a real dead head.’

‘Sure,’ said Thomas. ‘And I bet its name was Nancy.’

‘I’m not joshing,’ yelled Gavin. ‘There’s a shrunken skull, I’m telling you, at the Bellows’ place.’

Thomas’s eyes narrowed and he whistled. ‘You been messing around at the Bellows’ place?’ Gavin nodded.

Thomas whistled again. ‘They call it the threebie-geebie house, you know.’

Gavin slumped into the chair. ‘Why?’

‘Three g’s. Ghosts, ghouls and grave-diggers!’

Gavin’s heart was doing a ‘g’ of its own — galloping.
‘Hmmph!’
was all he could manage to reply.

Leaning forward with a twinkle in his eye, Thomas went on, ‘The place’s got a curse on it, y’know? A curse …’ He let the words hang and watched as Gavin’s eyes widened. ‘They say anyone who trespasses is automatically cursed.’ Thomas prodded Gavin in the shoulder. ‘You didn’t trespass, did ya?’

A lump formed in Gavin’s throat and he swallowed to clear it. ‘I … I never went near the house,’ he said. ‘Only up to the big tree in the front yard.’

‘Front yard, back yard, it’s all the same,’ said Thomas, shaking his head. ‘I heard of one fella who carked it — just from opening the letter box!’

Gavin sank deeper into the lounge, moaning and wringing his hands.

‘Yep,’ said Thomas. ‘I reckon you’re cursed. Done for.’

Gavin’s lips pursed and he hunched over. ‘Will…’ he began in a very small voice. ‘Will I die?’ An image flashed into his brain. The shrunken head. Could that soon be him?

Thomas looked at his little brother. ‘Die?’ he asked in a voice that bounced around the room. ‘May as well start measuring you up.’

‘What for?’ gasped Gavin.

‘Your coffin.’

‘Oh, no!’

Thomas loomed over his brother and added, ‘Unless, of course, you break the curse.’

Gavin frowned. Through scrunched-up eyes he asked, ‘How do I break the curse? Tell me. I’m too young to die.’

‘What’s it worth?’ asked Thomas, rubbing his thumb and forefingers together under Gavin’s nose.

‘But I’m broke,’ wailed Gavin.

Thomas shrugged. He crossed his arms over his
chest, saying, ‘I can wait. I’ll get it all when you’re dead, anyway.’

Gavin wished he’d never gone to the Bellows’ house. He thought of his friends, Marty and Leo, and that he might never see them again. No more games of Dutch Oven, no more smelliest bum competitions. He thought of his father’s chocolate cake. ‘I’ll do anything to break the curse,’ he pleaded. ‘Just tell me.’

‘Anything?’ asked Thomas. Gavin nodded. ‘Anything!’

‘Well …’ said Thomas, settling back in his chair and trying to keep the smirk from his face. ‘If I tell ya, you’ve gotta mow the lawn —’

‘I can do that!’

‘For the next
five years.’

Gavin leapt to his feet. ‘Five years! That’s not fair!’ He started to pace around the room.

‘Five years … or eternity.’ Thomas snorted. ‘You’re a long time dead.’

May as well be dead, thought Gavin, but in the end he agreed. ‘Deal,’ he said, holding out his hand to his brother. ‘Shake.’

‘Deal,’ said Thomas, taking the hand. ‘I’ve heard y’can break the curse …’

‘Yes?’ whispered Gavin, leaning closer.

‘Y’can break the curse
by-y-y
… ‘ repeated Thomas, toying with Gavin. ‘By laying the baby to rest.’

Gavin flung Thomas’s hand away. He gasped, ‘Not the baby in the bottle!’

‘Yup.’ Thomas nodded. He grabbed a poker from beside the fireplace and pointed it at Gavin, in the exact way he’d seen in a book when an Aboriginal man was cursed with a bone. ‘Until that baby is properly buried, in a grave with a headstone and all, the curse will be on
y-o-o-ou!’

You couldn’t live in Bridgewater and not know about the baby in the bottle, so later that afternoon when Gavin caught up with his friends, Marty and Leo, he didn’t have much explaining to do.

‘Cursed!’ said Marty, shaking his head in despair.

‘It was nice knowing you,’ said Leo, taking Gavin’s hand.

Gavin thrust Leo’s hand away. ‘Cut it out,’ he said. ‘I’m not dead yet.’

‘No,’ said Leo, removing his cap and placing it over his heart, ‘but you soon will be.’

‘What’re you gonna do?’ interrupted Marty.

‘I don’t know,’ said Gavin, kicking the telegraph pole and not minding when it hurt. Gavin kicked the pole again. ‘Maybe the curse isn’t true? Thomas could be making it up. Maybe even the baby is a load of crap?’

‘The baby’s real, all right,’ said Marty, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders. ‘Simon Gozzwell’s cousin saw it. He told Simon and Simon told me. It’s up on the mantelpiece, above the fireplace, glowing like.’

Leo nodded in agreement. ‘I heard Simon’s cousin got
that
close,’ he said, holding his hands about a metre apart.

‘I heard he picked it up,’ said Marty, holding his hands as if they carried a dead weight. ‘It was real heavy. The poor little baby was all squished up inside.’

In a hushed voice Leo added, ‘They must’ve had to break its neck to do that.’ When he saw Gavin flinch he added,
‘And
its arms and legs.’

‘Simon’s cousin even tried to open the lid,’ went on Marty.

‘G’
on,’
said Leo. ‘I’ll bet he didn’t.’

‘Did too,’ said Marty.

‘Didn’t,’ said Leo.

‘That’s enough,’ interrupted Gavin. ‘Doesn’t matter if Simon Gozzwell’s cousin touched the bottle or not. What matters is the curse. I wonder if anything happened to Simon Gozzwell’s cousin …’

‘I heard he got sucked down a drain in a flash flood,’ said Marty.

‘I heard he was sucked down a drain in a flash flood, mauled by crocodiles, attacked by a shark and drifted out to sea,’ added Leo. ‘That’s some curse.’

‘Great!’ Gavin took another almighty swing at the pole. ‘What am I going to do? How am I going to bury that baby and break that curse?’

The boys huddled on the street corner, deep in thought.

Gavin spat at a pebble. He often did that when he was thinking. He missed, then spat again,
relieved when his aim was better. ‘Maybe it won’t be too hard …’ he began hopefully.

Marty snickered, then laughed. ‘Oh, sure. First you’ve got to sneak in there and steal it.’

‘If Simon Gozzwell’s cousin can do it, us guys can,’ said Gavin, emphasising the
us
.

‘Yeah,’ agreed Leo.

Gavin’s hopes rose. He wouldn’t have to die after all! But as quickly as they rose they fell again when Marty threw in, ‘And then you have to hide the body.’

‘And
the grave!’ chimed in Leo.