She hated the country and she hated even more the idea of spending it with two chicken farmers she hardly knew.
Her mother leant over and stroked her cheek.
‘I realise this is hard for you Max, but you know I love you. I’ve certainly been busy lately and these last few years without Dad have been hard on the both of us, but it will get better. I promise.’
Max’s mother gave her a quick kiss and started the car.
‘We’d better get going,’ she said, looking at her watch.
Max wiped the kiss away and crossed her arms against her chest.
Her mum worked in the publicity department of a major TV station and her life was full of dinners, openings, famous people and parties. It seemed pretty cruisy to Max and as they drove on in silence, she knew she was the one who had the hard life.
This was one of the hardest assignments yet for Alex Crane.
She’d been captured and was being driven to the secret hideout of the infamous Camilla La Koole, the most notorious mastermind of poisons the world had ever seen. Camilla’s cunning plans saw her befriend the rich and famous and when they least expected it, spray them with her poisons. Each poison was enough to keep the person immobile until she could steal their riches and escape.
And when her victims awoke they remembered nothing.
Camilla was the richest and most clever woman the underworld had ever known, and Spyforce had Alex Crane on the case to bring her evil ways to an end.
Of course Alex wasn’t really captured. She’d let Camilla trap her and armed with a Spyforce micro-recorder in her watch and a piece of Truth Gum, which when chewed forced the chewer to tell the truth, she’d trick Camilla into confessing all.
Just one piece of gum.
Max’s head was thrown forward and her pen skidded across her book as the car came to an abrupt stop. A cattle dog had run onto the road and her mother had seen it just in time to stop.
Max stopped thinking of Alex Crane and looked around her. She wasn’t superspy Alex Crane in some exotic spy location, she was Max Remy and she was in Mindawarra. A town that had one pub, a Chinese restaurant, a police station and a general store with a couple of petrol bowsers out front. The only person in sight was an old man asleep on the bench at a bus stop that looked like there hadn’t been a bus through for about a hundred years.
This was Mindawarra. Max’s home for the entire school holidays.
‘According to this, Ben and Eleanor’s farm is about three k’s east of here,’ said her mum, poring over a map. ‘So it won’t be long now.’
Long until what? Max thought. Until she became comatose with boredom as she spent the summer watching cows graze? Great.
The sun was just starting to set when they pulled onto a dirt track and, after three dusty, potholed kilometres, came upon a house that looked like something out of a horror film: broken down, creaky and smothered by evil-looking trees. The only person who could possibly feel at home here was some half-crazed lunatic who’d had their brain removed at birth.
Ben and Eleanor came rushing out to meet them. Max almost got smothered in the folds of clothes as Eleanor swooped on her and gave her a hug. She untangled herself, lucky to escape alive.
Ben stepped towards Max’s mother and the two exchanged a brief handshake.
‘Hello,’ they both said coolly.
Max’s mother wiped her hand with a hanky as if to wipe the handshake away. She then mumbled a quick hello to her sister and what sounded like a quiet ‘thank you’.
‘Would you like to come in for a quick cuppa?’ asked Eleanor.
‘No thanks. I really should be going. I’m late already.’ Then she turned to Max. ‘Bye, sweetie. Anything you need just call me. Okay? I love you.’
And with that she was gone. A small cloud of dust following her car out of the front gate and back to the city.
Back to the real world.
Eleanor picked up Max’s bags.
‘Come on, Max. I’ll show you to your room,’ she said cheerily.
Max followed Eleanor and only just missed stepping on dog poo before walking up the creaky, dusty front steps.
At the top she turned and looked around her. There wasn’t another house in sight. This really was the end of the world and she’d been farmed out like some dumb animal to graze with a couple of hillbillies. Max pictured herself as an old woman walking off the farm, fat from years of eating steak and potatoes every night and watching cows wander around dusty paddocks.
She jumped back as a chicken flapped past her as if from nowhere. She covered her face with her arms as it landed and then cackled like it was having a good laugh at her.
‘You won’t think it’s so funny when you’re next Sunday’s lunch,’ she snapped.
Max stepped onto the verandah that circled the house and then through the flyscreen door that slammed closed behind her. Inside, she couldn’t believe what she saw. She was standing in a long, dark corridor that led all the way through the house to the kitchen at the end. Cobwebs dangled from lights that looked like they were from the last century. As she stepped carefully forward, she looked into the lounge room to her left and stared open-mouthed at its giant lounges, bare wooden floor and creepy pictures of really old people propped up on a mantelpiece that looked like it took all its strength just to stay up. Through frayed curtains, a large window let in streaks of greyish light like frozen lightning bolts. There were bookshelves lining almost every wall and a large glass cabinet that contained some old ornaments, yellowing papers and books left over from the Dark Ages. A tall lamp stood in the corner like a skinny man with a large hat and nowhere to go while a squat table nestled underneath it.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
There was no TV. What kind of a house had no TV?
‘Max, I’m in here.’
Max followed Eleanor’s voice out of the TV-less lounge room.
Then she saw something she really couldn’t believe. Her room. That’s what Eleanor called it anyway. It wasn’t a proper room but a bed on the back verandah. The ‘sleep-out’ they called it, and Eleanor showed it to Max like it was the most special room in the whole place. At least here she’d have a quick getaway in the middle of the night if the whole relic of a house fell down around them.
‘I’ll leave you here to get settled in. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes,’ said Eleanor.
Max looked around the sleep-out.
‘Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I think I’ll just go to bed early.’
Eleanor smiled, but Max could tell she was disappointed.
‘Goodnight then. We’ll see you in the morning,’ she said and closed the door behind her.
Max wondered what a great spy would do to get out of this situation. How would she plan her escape? In the middle of nowhere and trapped in a house with no TV.
Max changed into her pyjamas and slid into bed. She could hear Eleanor and Ben laughing in the kitchen, that is when they weren’t singing off-key and talking at the top of their voices.
She pulled the blankets over her head and thought about her dad in America. She missed him and wondered why he was always too busy to spend time with her. She turned over in her squeaky bed and wished she was at home, with its big-screen TV, cozy lounge room and bed with soft, comfortable pillows.
Eventually Ben and Eleanor quietened down and the lights in the house were turned off.
Just as Max was about to fall asleep, she heard a noise. It was like an animal sniffing at the door of the verandah, only centimetres from where she was asleep. The hinges creaked as the door opened slowly. Max held her breath as she thought of who it might be. Maybe it was some terrible monster or a raving lunatic who lived deep in the bush and only came out at night.
In the moonlight Max saw an old cricket bat on the floorboards near her bed. She moved slowly, trying not to be heard but the squeaking springs of the bed were like a hungry cat that wouldn’t be quiet. She reached out and picked up the bat, sitting bolt uprigh
t in bed, ready to strike.
Then she heard footsteps. She had to tell herself to take another breath she was so scared she’d stopped breathing.
Then she saw the silhouette of a large figure and heard the sound of heavy boots trying to be quiet as they stepped towards her.
Closer and closer.
This was it, thought Max. I’m going to die!
A madman had broken into the house and was coming to get her. Max could hardly hear her own thoughts, her heart was beating so loudly in her chest.
She was done for. She could see the headlines now: ‘Girl disappears from farm without a trace.’ For years police would try and solve the mystery of her disappearance. Her mother would sob and sob and make sure her make-up was on properly before the TV news team interviewed her about her lost child. But what she’d forget to say is that it was her idea to send Max away in the first place even though Max had begged to stay with her. If she did disappear her mum wouldn’t have to worry about cooking her dinner, or coming home early, or Max’s new shoes that she’d wrecked. Life would be great for her mum. No more Max to worry about, just all those famous people and a life full of parties.
Then the screen door opened and the footsteps receded into the night.
Phew! She was safe. For now. But who knew when the lunatic would be back or if there were more of them hiding in the bushes, ready to steal into the night and scare innocent children.
Max got out of bed and snuck to the window. She watched the beam of a torch as it made its way to a small shed. A light was turned on inside the shed and she could see the black silhouette of a man. Who was he and what was he doing? Maybe he was a crazed psychopath creating a devastating device of evil. Maybe he was no better than Dr Evilbrain and it was up to Max to stop him before he destroyed the world.
Max climbed into bed and gripped the bat firmly just in case she needed it. She lay there staring at the door and listening to every rustle, hoot and buzzing sound that filled the night air. The end of the holidays seemed a very long way away.
Superspy Alex Crane was being pursued by the treacherous Baron Lichtenstein and his hungry pack of wolves. Alex had uncovered the Baron’s scheme of smuggling top-secret Government plans out of the country in a collection of talking dolls and was now running for her life with the Baron and his wolves in hot pursuit. They were gaining fast. Just as Alex was about to pass through the gates of the Baron’s estate to safety, she tripped and sprained her ankle. She tried to stand up but the pain was too great. The wolves were gaining on her fast. She could hear the Baron’s laugh of victory as they were about to pounce.
Was this the end of Alex Crane? Would the wolves eat her alive? Would Spyforce lose their greatest ever spy?
Max woke in terror. Someone had thrown something large and woolly over her and was trying to smother her. She struggled beneath the furry weight, trying to breathe, trying to scream, fighting for her life. Maybe it was the heavy-footed man who had terrorised her last night and had come back to kill her. Or maybe it was her weird uncle and aunt who wanted to chop her up and feed her to the chickens. She knew they were crazy. Probably crazy enough to kill.
They weren’t going to do away with her that easily, thought Max. She struggled, using all her strength against the smothering weight. Then she felt a long wet slap across her face. What was that? Then she heard a bark.
A dog! It was a dog!
‘Get off me!’ she screamed. ‘I said get off me!’
Max gave the dog one big shove and it landed clumsily on the floor next to her bed. But it thought she was playing and jumped back up on her again.
‘Will somebody get rid of this maniac dog before he kills me!’ she yelled.
Eleanor came into the room and laughed as she pulled the dog off Max.
‘Ralph, I know you’re excited to have a new guest in the house but at least let her wake up before you say good morning,’ said Eleanor.
Max was furious that Eleanor thought it was so funny. She’d almost been killed! Eleanor wouldn’t be laughing if she’d found her lying blue in the face with her eyes wide open, having taken her last dog-smelling breath.
‘Sorry about that. Ralph was only trying to be friendly,’ said Eleanor apologetically.
‘Well I’d appreciate it if you controlled your dog so I’m not attacked every morning when I wake up,’ Max said sharply.
Eleanor looked hurt.
Max wiped the dog spit from her face and brushed dog hairs off her pyjamas.
‘He didn’t mean any harm, but I’ll make sure he sleeps outside from now on.’
Ralph gave a yelp. Eleanor wouldn’t really leave him outside all night, would she? Not after all these years and besides, he hated being alone in the dark.
‘Come on, Ralph. Let’s leave Max to get dressed in peace,’ said Eleanor. Ralph looked away from Max, let out a small whimper and, with his tail sagging to the floor, he quietly left the room after his mistress.
Max threw off the blankets in one angry sweep. Finding her slippers under the bed, she took her toilet bag and dog-smelling self to the bathroom. When she got there, she stood in the doorway with her mouth open as she looked at what was to pass for a bathroom for the next six weeks. It was a small room with one window up high and a small cracked mirror that hung even higher from a crooked nail. Even hardened criminals had it better than this, she thought.
The walls were a floral mess of pale pink and green tiles that looked like they had come straight out of a magazine from the 1950s. Tiles had fallen off the walls and were piled on a shelf waiting to be fixed. The bathroom cabinet was so small Max wondered that anything could fit in it, and the toilet lid looked heavy enough to break her arm just trying to lift it up. The bath was so deep she thought she was going to need a ladder just to get in and above it the shower nozzle poked out from the wall like a miniature metal weapon left over from the war. Around the bath hung a bright yellow curtain splattered with ducks and rainbows.
Nothing matched, nothing was her height, everything was a nightmare.
As Max tried to get up the courage to enter the room, she thought of her mother. There was a lot about her Max didn’t like, but one thing she did have was a sense of style, which Eleanor must have missed when they were handing it out.
‘Why me?’ muttered Max. She took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway, wanting to wash away every trace of the smelly dog as quickly as possible.
After cleaning up, Max felt better but when she got to the kitchen she met her next horror.
Breakfast!
Eleanor smiled as she saw Max enter the room.
‘Just in time,’ she said, as she placed before Max a plate of fried eggs, bacon, toasted white bread and a large mug of tea.
Max gulped hard trying to imagine eating it all.
Unlike the bathroom, the kitchen was a big room with light pouring in from the yard. There were cupboards everywhere. The benches and shelves were cluttered with jam jars, sauce bottles, biscuit tins, recipe books and canisters with tea, flour and sugar written on them. There was a spice rack with what looked like every spice in the world and a walk-in pantry that was filled from the floor to the roof with boxes, tins, packets and containers. The floor was like a giant checkerboard of linoleum and right in the middle was a high wooden table covered with jars of spreads, a jug of milk, cups, a pot of tea, a large loaf of bread, a sugar pot, some cereal boxes, a toaster, knives, forks and spoons, egg cups shaped as miniature Humpty Dumpty characters and nestled right in the middle of it all, a small vase of flowers. Max’s eyes fell on the plate in front of her.
‘Thanks, but I’m not hungry,’ she said.
‘Not hungry? Rubbish,’ said Ben, sliding his toast through the yellow egg goo on his plate. ‘You didn’t have dinner last night, you must be hungry.’
‘It’s just that I usually have freshly squeezed juice and fruit salad for breakfast,’ explained Max.
‘That’s not enough to keep a young girl growing big and strong,’ her
uncle scoffed as he kept eating and Max noticed him give Eleanor a quick wink. ‘Besides, you’ll need extra energy to work around the farm.’
Big and strong? Work around the farm? Not only was she sentenced to spending her holidays miles from any kind of civilisation, but she was also going to be used as child labour. Knowing she had no choice, Max sat at the table, scraped the butter off her toast and made a note to call the child welfare authorities as soon as she could.
Just then the screen door slammed and there stood the gangliest boy with the wildest hair she’d ever seen.
‘I’ve given Ralph a talking to and left him outside,’ he said.
Her uncle swallowed the final piece of his egg goo combo.
‘Linden, this is Max. She’s staying for the holidays and needs to be shown around the place. Think you can do it?’ said Ben.
‘No problem. What’s the weather going to be?’ asked Linden.
‘Larry’s been digging holes like there’s no tomorrow, so I’d say we are in for a good drenching tonight,’ Ben forecast.
This was too much for Max. Who was Larry and what did digging holes have to do with rain?
Eleanor noticed Max’s confusion.
‘Larry’s our pig. We can tell the weather by how he behaves.’
Linden saw Max needed more convincing.
‘He’s only been wrong two times before and that was because he had a cold.’
Now Max knew she was living in the Land of the Loonies.
‘Right. I’m off,’ said Ben, wiping his mouth. He walked over to Eleanor, picked her up under the arms and gave her the sloppiest kiss Max had ever seen two married people give each other. Yuck! She looked away and waited for them to stop.
Eleanor straightened herself out.
‘I’ll see you all about lunchtime and not before. I’ve got lots on and could do with some peace around the house.’
Max was sceptical. Lots of work? How hard could it be to scrub floors and feed chickens? At least being with Wildboy would be more interesting than being indoors cleaning out cupboards.
In Search of the Time and Space Mach Page 2
