Star-Crossed Rascals

by Patricia Puddle

  I smiled. “Thanks for saving me, Mister.”

  A skinny man wrapped a blanket around me. “You’ll be all right, love.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “But what about Gertie?” I said. “She’s been eaten by a bull shark, and I’ll never see her again.”

  “No, she hasn’t,” said the skinny man. “She got out and rang the police from a nearby house. She’s back at the station.”

  “Gertie’s alive?” I cried. “She didn’t get eaten?”

  “She’s just fine,” said the man. “She’s having a hot meal.”

  “Hooray! Gertie saved me!” I couldn’t wait to see her.

  Sipping my cocoa, I smiled at the nice men. I peeked out the window. Blue and red lights shone from a police car below. Ooooaah! Was I getting arrested? When the helicopter landed, the big man carried me outside and fastened me in the back seat.

  I didn’t even care if I went to jail. At least I hadn’t drowned.

  A policewoman drove me to the police station. When we arrived, I trembled. The two burly policemen from the riverbank were standing next to the jail cells. I turned to run, but one of them grabbed me. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “Come here, you little rascal.”

  I tried to pull away. But just then, Mum and Dad came running towards me. Smiling my biggest smile, I jumped up and punched the air. “Hooray, hooray!” They were back.

  Dad picked me up and swung me around. “My poor baby,” he said. “We’re so glad you’re safe. We’d never have forgiven ourselves if anything had happened to you.” He put me back down and ruffled my hair. “I think you’d better have swimming lessons.”

  Mum knelt next to me and hugged me tight. “Oh, Polly, we were so worried,” she said, gazing into my eyes. “You know you’re not allowed in the river. You could have drowned. What on earth were you and Gertie doing in a boat?”

  “Umm,” I mumbled, lowering my head. Then I peeked up. “Where’s Auntie?”

  Dad sighed. “You know, honey, some people aren’t very good at babysitting kids. They have no patience. Auntie seems to be one of those. She phoned us to let us know you were being rescued by the police. But as soon as we arrived home, she took off to Grandma’s in her car. She’s going to look after her for a while.”

  Poor Grandma. She’d probably get chopped liver for dinner.

  Dad squinted at me. “Did we have a leaking pipe, Polly? Our furniture’s wet and there was a plumber in the bathroom.”

  I shrugged and said, “Umm, well ... the toilet was blocked, so we had to use the outhouse.”

  Mum grabbed my hands. “We shouldn’t have expected Auntie to do the housework, and look after you, Polly. It was probably too much for her. Why didn’t you tell her you were going to the river?”

  I swallowed, but before I could answer, I saw Gertie. My heart skipped and I ran to my bestest friend in the whole world. I wrapped my arms around her and plonked a soggy kiss on her cheek.

  “Hey!” she yelled. “Don’t choke me.”

  I looked at Mum. “Can Gertie come to our house?”

  “Of course, but not tonight. Her parents are waiting,” said Mum, hugging Gertie. “She’s our little hero. She he saved our Polly.”

  “Yes,” said Dad, handing us a bag of sweets to share. “It’s great to have a loyal friend who’s there when you need them.”

  Gertie popped a gobstopper in her mouth. “See,” she said. “I’m the hero, and you’re the dirty rascal.”

  I poked my tongue out. “Well if I hadn’t found my giant gumball, I would have drowned in the river. So I’m the hero.”

  “Okay, girls,” said Dad, “Now it’s time to have a little chat with the police.”

  I struggled to breathe. “Are we getting locked in a cell? ‒ with bars?”

  Dad shook a finger at us. “No, but you’d better never do anything like that again. And make sure you tell an adult where you’re going in future.”

  I elbowed Gertie. “We’re gonna be good from now on, aren’t we?”

  “Uh – huh,” she said, sucking on a gobstopper.

  I grabbed the bag of goodies and pulled out a packet of bubblegum. As I popped a piece in my mouth, Gertie leaned towards me.

  “’Wanna go roller-skating tomorrow?” she whispered. “Toby Jug lives near the park. We can spy through his kitchen window.”

  I grinned very naughty ’cause he’s the boy who dobbed on me.

  Wanna have more fun with Gertie and me? Keep reading.

  Excerpts from book two

  Chapter One - Bathroom Wall

  At playtime, I sat next to Gertie. She’s my bestest friend in the whole world. “I can’t wait to go to the festival and sing in the Opera House,” I said.

  “Me too,” said Gertie, opening her yogurt. “But I’m not going if you’re not allowed.”

  I squinted at her. “I will so too be allowed. My mum already said I could go.”

  “I know that,” said Gertie, rolling her eyes. “But here’s the problem. Miss Badger said someone keeps singing out of tune. And guess what, Polly? She thinks it’s you.”

  My mouth fell open. “But it can’t be me,” I said. “I’m a good singer. I go to choir practice every Saturday. You don’t, Gertie.”

  She licked her fingers. “Who wants to go to school on Saturdays?” she said. “I’d rather ride my bike.”

  I pouted. “Did Miss Badger say she’s gonna kick me out of the choir, then?”

  Gertie shook her head. “No, but she’s gonna test our voices this afternoon.”

  “Oh, poo!” I said. “That meanie teacher will blame me. Then I won’t get to sing in the Opera House.”

  Gertie hooted with laughter. “You don’t sing, Polly. You bellow.”

  “You be quiet,” I said. “I’ll stay in the choir. You’ll see.”

  “You better,” said Gertie. “’Cause I want to see the Harbour Bridge.”

  Hmm. I tapped my mouth with my finger and thinked very hard. “I know,” I said. “If I pretend to sing, Miss Badger will think I’m in tune. Then she’ll let me stay in the choir.”

  Gertie burst into a fit of crazy giggles. “You mean you’re gonna mime? You’re a crack up, Polly.”

  “Well, I’m a good actress,” I said. “And if I mime, we can both go to the Opera House.”

  Gertie grinned. “I can’t wait to see you miming, Polly.”

  I scrunched my face at that foolish girl. “You’d better not laugh at me, Gertie.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be singing, so I won’t be able to see you.”

  Ignoring her, I peeled the paper from my cupcake. But as I was about to eat it, that greedy girl snatched it.

  “Hey!” I said. “Give it back!”

  She grinned and took a huge bite.

  I glared at her. “That was my playlunch!”

  “Yeah, but you weren’t eating it,” she said, spluttering crumbs everywhere.

  I pushed her arm. “I was going to.”

  Gertie licked her lips. Then she stuffed the rest of my cake in her mouth.

  “Okeydokey,” I said, grabbing her yogurt. “I’ll have your food, greedy guts.”

  “I don’t care,” she said. “I’d sooner have one of your mum’s nice cakes than yucky old yogurt.”

  I scraped the dregs from the bottom of the tub. “You must have liked it,” I said. “You ate most of it. So why’d you take my cake?”

  She wiped her face with her hand. “Because it looked yummy,” she said. “Are you coming to the bathroom before the bell rings?”

  I threw the empty carton at her. “Greedy pig,” I said. “You’d better give me some of your food at lunchtime.”

  Gertie put her arm around my shoulder. “Okay,” she said. “You can have my boiled egg.”

  “Bleuuughh!” I said, sticking my tongue out. “I hate boiled eggs.”

  “Oooah,” squealed Gertie, jiggling about. “I need to go to the loo before the bell goes.”

  I giggled. “Serves you right
for eating my cake. My mum puts prunes in them.”

  “Prunes?” said Gertie. “They’re disgusting!” Holding her backside, she ran towards the toilets.

  “You look funny,” I shouted, racing in front of her. But as I ran through the entrance, that clumsy girl barrelled past me and knocked me to the ground.

  “Good on ’yer,” I said, scrambling to my feet.

  Ignoring me, Gertie zoomed into a toilet cubicle and banged the door shut. “Did you want me to poo my pants,” she hollered.

  “Yeah, that would be funny,” I said, sitting on the wooden bench to fasten my shoe.

  Gertie did a big fart. Thbbbbpppppp!

  “Eww.” I held my nose. “You stink, Gertie. You’ve been eating too many boiled eggs.”

  “It’s your mum’s cooking,” she yelled. Then she farted again. Thbbbbbpppp!

  “Oh, yuck.” I gasped for air. “Why’d you ask me to come in here with you? You smell.”

  Gertie flushed the loo. “You better go to the toilet, Polly. Miss Badger won’t let you go once we’re in class.”

  “I’ll go when that horrible pong’s gone,” I said, pinching my nose. Then I spotted a large brown shoulder bag. It was hanging on two metal hooks on the wall. I climbed onto the bench and peeked inside.

  “What’re you doing?” said Gertie, coming up behind me. “You’ll get us busted.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not stealing anything, stupid. I’m just seeing what’s in this bag.”

  “Well, hurry up,” she said.

  I sighed. “Aww, it’s full of toilet rolls, so it must belong to the cleaning lady.”

  “How boring,” said Gertie, washing her hands. “I was hoping it was full of lollies.”

  “Duh,” I said, “as if.”

  Gertie held her mouth and snorted. “Well, I find sweets everywhere.”

  I stared at her. “That’s ’cause you’re dirty, Gertie.”

  “You can talk,” she said. “At least I didn’t eat dried-up doggy dung like you did.”

  I pulled a mad face at her. “I did not! I spat it out as soon as I figured it was mouldy dog poo. It tasted disgusting. Anyway, it was your fault. You told me it was a coconut toffee.”

  Gertie cracked up. “Yeah, but I was just joking. You didn’t have to eat it,”

  “I DID NOT EAT IT!” I yelled.

  “Yes, you did,” said Gertie. “Even if you spat it out, some bits would’ve gone down your throat.”

  Scowling, I turned my back on that stupid girl. Then I had a brainwave. That shoulder bag would make a great swing.

  Giggling, I grabbed the hooks it was hanging on and lifted my legs up. Then I shoved my feet through the long strap until my bum rested on the bag.

  “What are you doing?” said Gertie.

  “I’m having a swing, that’s what,” I said.

  Gertie cracked up. “You’ll break it, stupid.”

  “No, I won’t,” I said. “I’m only small.” Moving my legs, I swung to and fro. “Wheeee! This is super fun.”

  “Let me have a go,” said Gertie.

  “No,” I said. “You’ll break it. You’re too heavy.”

  “Am not!” she said, pulling my arm.

  “Get off me, Gertie,” I yelled, kicking my legs. Then the strap broke and I tumbled to the floor, landing on my bum with a thump.

  “Ouch!” I cried as something really hard hit me on the head.

  “Ooooaaahh,” said Gertie, holding her face.

  I blinked and looked around. “W ‒ w ‒ what happened?” Then my eyes popped wide open.

  Crikey! There was a huge hole in the bathroom wall. The metal hooks were on the floor and I was smeared with grey dust. The tiles were covered in bits of rubble. And toilet rolls were everywhere. Oooooh, I was in big trouble now.

  Gertie held her belly and laughed. Then she pulled me up. “Quick,” she said. “We’d better get outta here.”

  I rubbed my scalp. “Why’re you laughing, Gertie? Something hit my head.”

  She giggled. “You little weirdo. You broke the bathroom wall, that’s what. And it’s all over your uniform.” She started brushing my tunic with her hands. “Come on. We’d better go back outside before we get caught.”

  Chapter Two - The Choir

  I pointed at a metal hook on the ground. “That’s what bashed me on the head,” I said. “No wonder it hurt.”

  Gertie rolled her eyes. “Oh, duh!” She took my hand and steered me to the door. “Hurry up or someone will see what you’ve done.”

  “What I’ve done?” I said, pointing at the mess. “You made me fall, Gertie. Now Miss Badger will skin me alive.”

  Gertie ignored me and kept dragging me away. As I ran next to her, I shook the rubble from my ponytail.

  We bolted down the hallway, but as we reached the exit, we smacked right into someone. Crikey! It was the headmistress.

  Mrs Godbolt’s big eyeballs glared at us. “Oh,” she said, shaking a finger. “I might have guessed it was you two rascals. Why are you charging down the corridor? You know the rules. No running in the hallways.”

  “Y – y – yes, Mrs Godbolt,” I mumbled. But as we walked away, I couldn’t believe what that silly Gertie did. She giggled into her hand, that’s what.

  Sure enough, Mrs Godbolt called out, “Gertie McDougal! Where are your manners?”

  I froze in my tracks, but Gertie didn’t. That crazy girl turned around and grinned at the headmistress. Yipes! Did she want to get us busted?

  “Well?” snapped the headmistress.

  “Sorry, Mrs,” said Gertie.

  Mrs Godbolt pointed a long red fingernail at her. “Don’t push your luck, young lady. Now, address me correctly.”

  Gertie smiled. “Yes, Mrs Godbolt.”

  “That’s better. Now, walk, don’t run,” she said before marching into her office.

  “Phew,” said Gertie as we headed outside. “That was close.”

  I rubbed my sore head. “What do you mean? You nearly got me busted just then. And I wouldn’t have even broken that wall if you hadn’t pulled my arm.”

  Gertie chuckled and pulled another piece of rubble from my hair. “You’re the little oddball that was swinging on the hooks. So you can’t blame me.”

  “Yeah, well you wanted a go as well,” I said, heading out to the playground. “You made me fall. And now my head has a big lump on it. I look like an egghead.”

  “Shush,” said Gertie, pointing at Mrs Godbolt’s open window. “The headmistress will hear us.”

  Biting my lip, I peeked out the corner of my eye. “Oh, poo,” I whispered. “The cleaning lady’s in there. I bet she’s talking about the busted wall.”

  Just then, the bell rang.

  “Come on,” said Gertie. “Let’s go to our classroom. I don’t think anyone saw us.”

  “Hang on a minute,” I said. “I need to go to the toilet.”

  “Too bad,” she said. “We’ll get into trouble if we’re late back. And what about the broken bathroom? If someone sees you in there, they’ll guess you did it.”

  I wriggled about. “Oooooh, but I have to do a wee.”

  Gertie dragged me along. “Come on. You’ll just have to wait.”

  Holding my tummy, I shuffled to the classroom and sat at my desk. But I couldn’t keep still. I kept wriggling in my chair.

  “Stop it,” said Gertie. “If you keep knocking my arm, you’ll ruin my drawing.”

  “I can’t help it,” I whispered. “I need to go to the loo.”

  Gertie did a big sigh. “Well, ask the teacher, then. And stop bothering me.”

  I scowled. No way was I asking Miss Badger if I could go to the toilet. The last time I asked, she bellowed at me in front of the whole class. She said I should have gone at playtime.

  Stupid woman. I didn’t even need to do a wee at playtime. That teacher was too scary for words. She always barked at kids and she never smiled.

  One day, Toby Jug asked Miss Badger if he could go to the to
ilet. But that meanie teacher said no.

  Toby’s face went purple. As he walked back to his seat, he had an accident and did a poo. It tumbled down his leg and rolled onto the floor. Then he kicked it under the teacher’s desk. I grinned, but he didn’t know I’d seen him.

  Miss Badger sniffed like a rat, then peered under her table. When she pulled her leg out, she looked like she’d seen a monster. A round green turd was stuck on the end of her foot.

  Everyone roared with laughter as Miss Badger limped out of the room, carrying her mucky shoe. Even Toby thought it was funny.

  Just thinking about it made me giggle.

  Suddenly, Miss Badger banged her clip board loudly on her desk. “Pollyweena Grubble,” she yelled “Stop dreaming and get on with your drawing. I want it done before our music lesson.”

  Music? Oh, goody. I’d be able to sneak to the toilet on the way to the hall. I quickly grabbed my pencil and started drawing. Then I peeked at the teacher.

  Yipes! Her beady green eyes were still on me. So I kept my head down. I didn’t dare look up again. But I couldn’t keep still. My hips kept jiggling all by themselves.

  My face got real hot. I just had to get to the bathroom or I’d wee my pants.

  As I finished my picture, I glanced at Gertie’s drawing. “Ooooaaah,” I said. “You’ll be in trouble.”

  “Why?” said Gertie. “It’s a good sketch.”

  Giggling, I held my mouth. She’d drawn a funny woman with beady green eyes. Her brown hair looked like a dust mop. Tee-hee. It looked just like Miss Badger.

  Gertie nudged me. “Watch out,” she whispered. “Here comes trouble.”

  The teacher strode towards us and snatched our pictures.

  “Hey,” yelled Gertie. “Be careful, Miss. You’ll tear it.”