OK, they reckon I’m a bit of a hero too.
I’ve tried to explain to everyone it was just luck that I’d stuffed the pistol from the boat down my shorts.
And luck that I had the idea of firing it while we were floating to attract attention.
And luck that it turned out to be a flare gun.
But people don’t believe me.
Specially as Troy and Brent Malley are going round telling the other kids it wasn’t luck, it was my guardian angel.
Mum’s just tried to make me lie down in one of the army tents and get some sleep, but I don’t feel like it cause I’m still too excited after being in the helicopter.
Plus it’s too noisy to sleep with all those frogs making such a din.
Plus there’s too much going on.
Mum understands cause she’s pretty excited too.
She’s got the plastic bags of bank money and she’s giving a personal loan to whoever needs one, which is something she’s always wanted to do.
I’ve been hugging Dad and Mum and Gran for about an hour.
Gran’s spent a lot of that time gazing proudly at Dad, which I think is making him a bit nervous.
When Dad was voted chairman of the town clean-up committee, for a sec I thought Gran was going to call the newspapers.
Mr Bullock was behaving as though he wanted the job, until he saw Gran looking at him.
Then he backed away, though that could have been because Gran had just taken a drag on her cigarette and a mouthful of army biscuit.
Dad’s just been explaining to everyone about government flood relief payments and how they’re always more than drought relief.
While everyone was cheering, Dad put his arm round me.
He bent down and I thought it was for another hug.
It wasn’t just for that.
‘He’s quite a bloke,’ whispered Dad, ‘your Doug.’
Why am I telling you all this, Doug?
Because in the helicopter I finally understood what you’ve been up to.
It started when I apologised to Carla.
‘You were right,’ I said. ‘It was angel bull.’
She grinned, and her eyes were softer and happier than I’d ever seen.
‘No, it wasn’t,’ she said.
And she opened the plastic bag from the boat and showed me the old notebook.
Her dad’s notebook.
Carla wouldn’t show me what was in it, but every time she peeked inside her eyes glowed softer so I reckon it must have been about her.
‘If Doug hadn’t made it rain so much,’ she said quietly, ‘I’d never have found this.’
I stared at her while everything sank in.
Carla hugged the notebook and smiled again.
I’ve had a guardian angel all along,’ she said.
So have I, Doug.
He’s over there with his arm round Mum.
Thank you.
Belly Flop Page 11
