After it was all done, Dad asked me if I thought it was a like ‘proper grave’ now and I told him yes because it was. When we showed Mum what we’d done her eyes went all shiny and she just said, ‘I knew there was a reason I loved you guys.’
That night Dad got a phone call from Uncle Gavin. Grandma must have told him about Mister Mosely. Uncle Gavin rang up to say he was sorry.
28 Toasting Mister Mosely
Everything was different without Mister Mosely around. Sort of slow and empty.
When I came home from school the next day there was nothing to do, so I just sat on the back steps and bounced a tennis ball against the wall. I was doing that when I heard the paper man’s car down the road. A bit later I heard the paper landing in our front yard so I went and got it. That made me think about Moe and I just started crying. I couldn’t help it.
I didn’t want Mum to see me doing that because I knew it would make her sad. So I took the paper up the back where Mister Mosely was buried and I sat on the big rock under the mango tree. I told Moe I’d got the paper for him, which I guess was a pretty stupid thing to do.
That’s where I was when Dad’s car came down the driveway. He was home early, which meant he mustn’t have done any overtime that day. I watched him get out of the car. He was carrying his little Esky and his thermos and some work gear. He had dirt and black stuff all over him as usual. He didn’t see me because I was behind the trellis.
Dad went under the house and put some of his stuff away in his work room and washed up a bit. Then he got a bottle of beer and a glass out of the fridge and he sat down by himself at the old kitchen table. Dad just sat there drinking and sort of staring at nothing. He looked kind of lonely.
Mum was upstairs in the kitchen. I could see her through the little window near the stove. She was making tea. She was speaking to someone because her mouth was moving. It must have been Amelia, but I couldn’t see her. It was funny watching Mum and Dad like that. One upstairs and one downstairs.
Then I remembered that I had the paper. I knew Dad liked to read it when he was drinking his beer so I took it over to him. When I got there he asked me if I was okay and I said that I was. I was going to go upstairs then, but Dad said to ‘pull up a pew’, which means to sit down, so I did. Then he took out another glass and put a little bit of beer in it and he gave it to me. He said we should ‘toast Mister Mosely’, which sounds pretty creepy when you think about it.
Anyway, what Dad did is, he clicked his glass against my glass and said, ‘To Mister Mosely.’ Then I had to drink some beer. I didn’t like it very much but I pretended I did because it was good being there and doing that stuff with Dad. He called it having an ‘awake’ or something. We didn’t say much for a while but then Dad said, ‘He was a good dog, the old Moe.’ Then he smiled, but not much, and said, ‘when he wasn’t pretending to be a fish and getting himself caught on hooks.’ That made me smile a bit too, because I hadn’t heard Dad say something like that for a long time.
Then the weirdest thing happened. Dad and me started to remember stuff about that day with Moe and the fish hook and we started to tell each other. Like I told him how I shouldn’t have kept calling Moe and making him try to come home when he couldn’t and Dad told me that it wasn’t my fault because I didn’t know about the hook being in Moe’s mouth in the first place.
We were still talking about the fish hook thing when Mum called from the back porch that tea was ready and for me to come up. I said, ‘In a minute,’ because I didn’t want to stop talking to Dad. But I guess it must have ended up being longer than a minute, because pretty soon Mum was coming down the steps to find out what I was doing.
I was sure Mum was going to go cross at Dad for giving me some beer. I didn’t want her and Dad fighting again. I started to get worried when she came over to the table and she looked at my glass and then at Dad and me. But all she said was, ‘What’s this then – secret men’s business?’ I didn’t know if she was talking to me or Dad, but Dad was just looking at the table so I told her how we were having an awake for Mister Mosely. Mum smiled a bit when I told her that, which made me feel better and she said, ‘I see.’
Mum just went back upstairs then, and Dad and me sat there without saying anything. Dad drank all his beer down and told me I’d better head off before my tea got cold otherwise we’d both be in trouble from Mum. And that’s what I was going to do, but we heard someone coming down the stairs. It was Amelia. Then we saw Mum coming down behind her. She was carrying a big tray.
Amelia ran over and pulled around a chair so she could sit right beside me, and Mum came over and put the tray on the table. It had three plates of spaghetti bolognaise and a bowl of ice-cream on it. Mum told us that Amelia had already eaten her tea and Grace was asleep. She said, ‘If you’re having an awake for Mister Mosely, then it should be a family thing.’
I told Mum she had to have a drink too so she could toast Moe. I didn’t think she even heard me, because she just kept looking at Dad. But I guess she must have, because she said, ‘I could sure do with one.’ She sounded pretty sad and worn out when she said that. So Dad got some more beer from the fridge and some soft drink too and Mum went back upstairs and brought Grace down in her carry basket.
That night was one of the strangest nights ever because we all had dinner together under the house. The only one missing was Mister Mosely. But after a while he sort of wasn’t, because we started to tell all these stories about him. It happened when I asked Mum if she remembered the time that Moe got the fish hook caught in his mouth because that’s what Dad and me were talking about. Mum said, ‘The poor thing. How could I forget?’ And then she started saying some stuff about it and then Amelia wanted to know more because she was only little when it happened.
Dad didn’t say much at the beginning, he just listened mostly. But when I told Amelia about me fainting at the vet’s and hitting my head and how Mister Mosely had to wear that bucket thing and how Dad had to carry both of us to the car, he said, ‘Two peas in a pod,’ which made Mum smile.
Then we just started to tell all the Mister Mosely stories we could think of. One after the other. Like how we got Moe from Uncle Gavin and how Moe got his name and how he cried on the first night when we put him downstairs. And we talked all about the teddy bear and the clock and Amelia drawing on him and that time at the park and the Pink Panther and how he learned to fetch the paper and the time he disappeared and the time he got hit by the car and lots of other things as well.
Mum and me did most of the talking, I guess. Amelia just asked a million questions, as usual. Dad listened mainly and drank his beer, but every now and then he’d add some stuff. Like when I said it was a pretty good trick how Moe learned to fetch the paper, he said, ‘Yeah, until he tried to steal every one in the neighbourhood.’ That was a bit of an exaggeration, but it made us laugh just the same.
So like I said, even if Mister Mosely wasn’t there, he kind of was because he was still there in the stories. And that’s how come Mum ended up getting me this journal. She brought it home one day and said I should write down all the Mister Mosely stories we talked about and then we’d have them forever. So that’s what I started to do. And that’s what I’ve been doing just about every day since Moe died.
Except now I guess I’m finished, because I’ve got no more Mister Mosely stories left to tell.
29 Not Really a Mister Mosely Story
This is not really a Mister Mosely story. It’s just some things that happened after he was gone.
One day Mum got some black paint and she added a dot and a wonky heart to that white paver Dad and me put on Mister Mosely’s grave, the one we glued his silver bowl on. I thought it was great what Mum did. Dad thought so too.
And you know all those seeds Mum planted on top of where Moe was buried? Well, they all grew into flowers. When they were tiny, I didn’t know if they were flowers or weeds. I had to wait a long time to find out. But now there are flowers everywhere. Mum says they’re
‘just perfect for Moe’ seeing how they’re all the colours of the rainbow. I didn’t really get what she meant, but she told me when you mix all those different colours together you end up with white, just like Moe. I don’t think that’s Mister Mosely sending us a sign or a message or anything, but it’s still kind of cool when you think about it.
I wish I had more Mister Mosely stories to tell. It was good coming out here every day with my journal and sitting under the mango tree and writing all Moe’s stories. Even the hard ones. And every time I saw Moe’s bowl with his name on it, it kind of felt like he was still waiting for me, same as always. Dumb, I know.
I still miss him heaps. Sometimes I think I hear his whine or his weird howling bark but it’s always some other dog somewhere. And sometimes I think I’m going to see him on the porch or running around the backyard or waiting out the front. But I never do. There’s just this big empty space where he used to be.
Amelia wants to get a new dog. She’s always bugging Mum and Dad about it. I think it would be weird having a dog that wasn’t Mister Mosely. Amelia wants a little fluffy one that could fit inside a handbag but Mum keeps saying that a dog is a ‘big commitment’ and we’ll just have to ‘wait and see’ what happens with Dad’s work.
Dad could be getting his old job back selling TVs and stuff now that the recession thing might be going away. I really hope he does. Maybe that would make him happy and he’d tell jokes and funny stories all the time like before and maybe him and Mum wouldn’t be so quiet together and they might even laugh again the way they did that time when Amelia drew all that stuff on Mister Mosely. That’s what I want more than anything in the entire world.
But I wanted Mister Mosely to get better too. And he didn’t. So just because you really want something to happen doesn’t mean that it will. I guess it’s like Mum keeps telling Amelia. Sometimes you just have to ‘wait and see’.
Mister Mosely was really good at doing that. He waited for heaps of stuff. He waited on the porch for us to come outside. He waited for ages to get better after the car hit him. He waited all those times for Uncle Gavin to stop teasing him and for Amelia to get tired of dressing him up and for Dad to finish his tea and for Grace to be born. And he waited for me too. Every single day after school.
That’s what I’m going to do with Mum and Dad. Just wait. Wait and hope. Same as I did when I waited to find out if those little green shoots on Moe’s grave would turn into weeds or flowers.
Maybe I learnt how to do that from Mister Mosely. Maybe it’s the one trick he taught me. That sometimes, no matter how much you want something, the very best thing you can do is wait, just like he did. Wait for stuff to happen or stop happening, for things to heal up and get better or for someone to come home.
I reckon that’s a pretty good trick to learn, from just a dog.
Also by Michael Gerard Bauer
The Running Man
Don’t Call Me Ishmael!
Ishmael and the Return of the Dugongs
Dinosaur Knights
You Turkeys! Illustrated by Nahum Ziersch
Teachers’ notes for Michael Gerard Bauer’s books are available from
www.scholastic.com.au
Dinosaur Knights
Michael Gerard Bauer
The opening in the forest before them was an eerie jumble of shapes and shadows … Roland and Oswald strained their eyes … finding imaginary monsters in the bulky bushes and arching tree limbs.
Then they saw a real one.
Somewhere in the future a scientist is conducting the experiment of his life – stretching time to bring a living dinosaur to the present. But the technology fails, and the giant prehistoric beast is stranded in the Middle Ages. There, a boy desperate to be a knight and his unwilling brother must face their fear and do battle.
… an original and adrenalin-pumping adventure yarn that grips the reader from the first page and doesn’t let go.
Barry Jonsberg
The Running Man
Michael Gerard Bauer
There had always been the Running Man – always that phantom form somewhere in the distance, always shuffling relentlessly closer …
Tom Leyton, a reclusive Vietnam veteran, has been the subject of rumour and gossip for thirty years. When Joseph Davidson, his young neighbour and a talented artist, is asked to draw a portrait of him, an uneasy relationship begins to unfold, one that will force each of them to confront his darkest secrets.
This is a story of how we perceive others, the judgments we make about them, how we cope with tragedy, and the nature of miracles.
Children’s Book Council of Australia’s Book of the Year (Older Readers): Winner
New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards: Short-listed
Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards: Short-listed
SA Festival Awards for Literature: Short-listed
Katholischer Kinder- und Jugendbuchpreis: Winner
Premio Centro di Letteratura per Ragazzi: Short-listed
Don’t Call Me Ishmael!
Michael Gerard Bauer
There’s no easy way to put this, so I’ll say it straight out. It’s time I faced up to the truth. I’m fourteen years old and I have Ishmael Leseur’s Syndrome. There is no cure.
And there is no cure for not fitting in. But that won’t stop Ishmael and his intrepid band of misfits from taking on bullies, bugs, babes, the Beatles, debating, and the great white whale in the toughest, the weirdest, the most embarrassingly awful … and the best year of their lives.
Engaging characters and their brave, inventive and foolhardy ways of counteracting a school bully make for a novel that is laugh-aloud funny.
Katharine England, Advertiser
Somehow my brain refuses to produce the appropriate superlative for this book. ‘Absolutely hilarious’ is altogether too feeble …
CBCA (SA Branch) Newsletter
Children’s Book Council of Australia’s Book of the Year (Older Readers): Short-listed
New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards: Short-listed
Children’s Peace Literature award: Winner
SA Festival Awards for Literature: Winner
Selected for ‘The White Ravens 2007’ exhibition at the Bologna Book Fair
Ishmael and the Return of the Dugongs
Michael Gerard Bauer
Ishmael joins Scobie, Prindabel, Bill and the Razzman for another year at St Daniels’s, and with his father’s old band reforming and Miss Tarango on a mission to teach love poetry, there’s music and romance in the air. But can Ishmael stand up to school bully Barry Bagsley, overcome Ishmael Leseur’s Syndrome and win the heart of Kelly Faulkner? Luckily, his best mate Razza – the self-appointed social worker for love – has a ‘wicked plan’.
What could possibly go wrong?
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First published by Omnibus Books in 2013.
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited in 2013.
E-PUB/MOBI eISBN 978 1 921990 65 6
Original text © Michael Gerard Bauer, 2010.
Cover © Omnibus Books, 2010.
Cover photographs © iStockphoto.com/Hirkophoto; Dmitry Demidovich.
Jacket design by Christopher Stengel.
Michael Gerard Bauer has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwis
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