Snot Chocolate

by Morris Gleitzman

  ‘Ms Beckwell,’ growls the judge, louder than he’s growled this whole trial. ‘Are you eating again?’

  Mum looks at him, startled. She doesn’t reply.

  ‘I’m a patient man,’ says the judge, angrily and even more loudly. ‘But your behaviour throughout this trial has been, I don’t know how else to describe it, a trial. You’re very lucky I don’t dismiss you from these proceedings. One more transgression and I will refer you to the disciplinary board.’

  Poor Mum has gone pale.

  It’s like she’s suddenly realised what she’s been doing these last few days. Risking her career. Risking her clients’ defence.

  Or maybe she’s just suddenly realised what she’s eating.

  ‘Thank you, Jemma,’ says Mum suddenly across the dinner table.

  She’s been very quiet since we got home, and I haven’t said anything because I wanted to give her enough time to digest the judge’s warning today, and the snot.

  I’m not sure what she’s thanking me for. Peeling the veggies? Offering to stack the dishwasher?

  ‘I know what you’ve been doing, love,’ says Mum quietly.

  My blood runs colder than chocolate ice-cream.

  Mum doesn’t look angry, but her eyes have got that look in them. The lawyer’s look that says nobody will leave this room until the truth is admitted.

  ‘If you wanted to put me off chocolate,’ says Mum, ‘you should have used coriander. It’s about the only thing I hate the taste of.’

  I could kick myself.

  How could I have forgotten about a simple herb? And Mum reckons I’ll make a great lawyer.

  Forget that.

  Forget everything, except what’s going to happen now.

  Mum knows what I did.

  Will she get ill and depressed again, like she did with Dad when he did bad things?

  ‘That was rough luck,’ says Mum, ‘forgetting how much I love chili. And fish, specially used in creative ways. But what was that last flavour? It was salty and bitter and sweet at the same time. Some kind of salted caramel?’

  I don’t say anything.

  She looks at me, hard.

  I’ve seen politicians in court flinch when she does that. Tough politicians. Politicians who don’t even flinch when they tell lies about drowned refugee children.

  I can’t help it, I have to tell her the truth.

  ‘Snot,’ I say.

  Mum keeps looking at me for a long time.

  Then she smiles.

  ‘I love you,’ she says.

  We’re waiting for the jury to come back in and give their decision.

  Mum’s not eating chocolate today, or doodling on a legal notepad like the prosecutor.

  She looks calm.

  Sad but calm.

  I know now why she’s sad. She explained last night. Theodore Conway Tucker and Christopher Waylon Tucker stole the chocolate bunnies and bilbies for a reason. Their sister’s baby was very sick and needed an operation that could only be done in America and would cost two hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Theodore and Christopher were going to sell the chocolate to raise the money. But before they could, the baby died.

  I glance over at Theodore and Christopher.

  No wonder they’re sitting slumped and staring at the floor.

  I look around, trying to see their sister.

  Her name’s Eileen and she’s been in the public seats every day of the trial. She always looks sad too. I thought it was just because she was worried about her brothers.

  Eileen isn’t here today.

  She probably can’t bear the thought of seeing Theodore and Christopher being found guilty and sent to jail.

  The judge comes back into the courtroom.

  This means the jury are on their way back to give their verdict.

  The judge sits in his big seat.

  Mum sits back down and stares at her table. I know what she’s doing. Trying to stay composed. She explained last night that this is the saddest trial she’s ever worked on. Every time she looks at Theodore and Christopher and Eileen, she wants to burst into tears. The only way she’s stopped herself is by eating chocolate. It’s something she used to do as a kid when she was very sad.

  She’s not eating chocolate now.

  She’s staying composed without it.

  I think she’s doing the mental exercise I told her about last night. The one where you forget where you are and travel in your mind to a happy place.

  When I do it I go to Cairns where Mum and Dad and I had a holiday when I was little.

  I don’t think Mum’s in Cairns. Her shoulders aren’t in the right position for whitewater rafting. She’s probably planning what she’s going to say after Theodore and Christopher are found guilty. She couldn’t say in the trial why they did it, because she was trying to convince the jury that they didn’t do it. Now she’s hoping that when she explains, the judge will give them a light sentence.

  Her elbows are on the table and her cheeks are cupped in her hands.

  Except what’s happening?

  One of her hands is moving round to the front of her face. Her finger is going up her nose. And out again. And into her mouth.

  Oh no.

  She’s still gazing at the table.

  She’s chewing, but I can see from her glazed expression she doesn’t know what she’s chewing.

  The judge does. He’s staring at her. But he doesn’t say anything. I don’t think he can believe what he just saw. A top lawyer picking her nose and eating it.

  If she does it again though, he will believe it.

  She does it again.

  Oh no.

  What have I done?

  I gave my mother snot chocolate, and now she’s developed a taste for snot.

  I couldn’t stay in the courtroom.

  I needed quiet time to think, and there wasn’t any quiet time after the jury came back in and said ‘not guilty’.

  People clapped and cheered. They must have been friends of Theodore and Christopher. The court officials yelled at them to be silent.

  It was chaos.

  Theodore and Christopher looked as stunned as Mum.

  But now I’ve had a chance to think, I reckon I know what happened.

  The jury must have felt sorry for Mum because of the way the judge yelled at her after she ate the snot chocolate. They must have thought it was unjust. So when they found they had some doubts about the case, to do with the Donald Duck masks and the bumble bee onesies and the black and yellow striped ski glove, they must have decided to give Mum and her clients the benefit of those doubts to make up for the injustice.

  Which is a great result for Theodore and Christopher.

  But not so great for Mum. When word gets around that she eats her own snot, she’ll probably never work again.

  The thought of that makes me do what Theodore and Christopher did. Not steal eleven and a half tonnes of chocolate. Slump and stare at the floor.

  I pull myself together and sit up straight. I got Mum into this, I’ve got to get her out of it.

  I look around, desperate for ideas.

  And see somebody else, over on the other side of the courthouse foyer, also slumped and staring at the floor.

  And crying.

  It’s Eileen. Theodore and Christopher’s sister.

  I’ve never spoken to her. I don’t know what to say to her now. But she looks so miserable, I can’t just ignore her.

  I go over.

  She looks up at me.

  ‘You’re Despina Beckwell’s daughter, right?’ she says, wiping her eyes.

  I nod.

  ‘Tell your mum thank you from me,’ says Eileen. ‘She did a good job. Shame she couldn’t tell the jury why the boys did it. Might have stopped them going to jail.’

  She starts crying again.

  ‘They’re not going to jail,’ I say.

  Eileen looks at me.

  I tell her about the not guilty verdict.

  Eileen stares a
t me as if I’m a kid making things up. Then she remembers I’m not just any kid, I’m the daughter of a senior barrister.

  Her face lights up.

  Then falls again.

  I can see what she’s thinking. Her brothers were found not guilty, but she just told me they did it.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I say quietly. ‘I don’t talk about my mum’s work. Plus you can’t be found guilty of something once you’ve been found not guilty.’

  Eileen’s face shows that she’s having a lot of different feelings. Relief, but a lot of others as well. I can’t imagine what she must be going through. Well, sort of, but not really.

  ‘It’s a mess,’ says Eileen. ‘All that stolen chocolate. Our mum’s gunna kill Theo and Chris. They’ll wish they were in jail by the time she’s finished with them.’

  I try to think how I can help.

  Theodore and Christopher don’t deserve to be killed. Perhaps there’s something I can do to help their mum calm down. Perhaps by putting all that chocolate to good use.

  You can probably guess the first idea I had.

  Take all the chocolate to our place so Mum can eat it every time she’s tempted to pick her nose.

  I thought seriously about doing that, but then I had a better idea.

  One that might help Eileen, just a bit.

  Here at the Children’s Hospital they can’t believe it. The nurses and kids are agog.

  Eleven and a half tonnes of chocolate.

  The nurses are letting us give an armful to each kid. And a bedful to the ones who can’t sit up. They can’t eat it all now of course, but the doctors have said they’ll prescribe some each day to everyone who’s allowed. And give lots to their families. Enough to cheer everyone up.

  Theodore and Christopher are looking very cheered up.

  And their mum seems to like the idea too. She hasn’t tried to kill Theodore or Christopher once.

  Eileen hasn’t said anything, but she’s been giving lots of the children hugs and just now she gave me one.

  So I think it might have helped a bit.

  I keep glancing nervously at Mum. She’s standing with a couple of the doctors, watching us, smiling.

  She hasn’t picked her nose yet.

  I take a chocolate bunny over to her.

  ‘In case you’re feeling a bit emotional,’ I say. ‘And need something to eat.’

  She takes it, but doesn’t eat it.

  ‘I want to feel emotional,’ she says quietly. ‘Seeing all this. Knowing it was your idea.’

  I see her eyes are wet. But she looks so proud at the same time that I feel myself glowing. In an anxious sort of way.

  Mum looks at me for a moment and sees what I’m thinking. She puts her finger up her nose. Just briefly. Then smiles.

  ‘The nose-picking was for the jury,’ she says. ‘I wanted to show them I wasn’t scared of the judge. So that when they thought about their verdict, they’d know they didn’t have to be scared of him either.’

  I’m so proud of my mum. She is a great lawyer.

  Plus I feel very relieved.

  ‘If you want something to worry about,’ says Mum, ‘my next case is defending somebody who’s been accused of forging a rare and expensive painting. So chances are I’ll develop a craving for oil paint and turps.’

  She gives me a wink.

  I grin back.

  ‘When you’ve finished your work here,’ says Mum, ‘I’m going to take you to a very posh restaurant to show how proud I am of you. We’ll order anything you want. Fillet steak, lobster, giant pizza, anything.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  I have a thought.

  ‘And when we get there,’ I say, ‘we can toast the great job you did in court.’

  ‘You’re a bit young for wine,’ says Mum.

  I give her another grin.

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘So let’s both have hot chocolate.’

  Morris Gleitzman grew up in England and came to Australia when he was sixteen. After university he worked for ten years as a screenwriter. Then he had a wonderful experience. He wrote a novel for young people. Now, with 38 books, he’s one of Australia’s most popular children’s authors.

  Visit Morris at his website:

  www.morrisgleitzman.com

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