by David Warner
Davey shook his head. ‘No, ma’am.’
‘Open it,’ she demanded.
Davey looked to Mudge, who nodded wearily.
Davey placed the backpack on the counter and slowly unzipped the top. Max’s black and white wiry head popped up and he let out a yelp of outrage.
The woman glared at Mudge with a triumphant smile and pointed to the door.
‘Out.’
CHAPTER 7
THE TOURING BLUES
The team piled wearily back onto the bus.
Morale was now at an all-time low. Josh glared at Davey. Last chance, he seemed to say. Davey wondered if he was on speed dial to Dermot. Davey’d be off the team faster than you could say dumped.
‘Come on, team, give me an S!’ Bella cried.
‘I’ll give you an S for Silence!’ Sunil called from the back seat.
Bella glared but she got the message and zipped it.
The Slammers tried three more motels, but it appeared the entire town was booked out. Even the camping ground turned them away.
‘What on earth could be going on in this godforsaken place?’ Mudge railed at the manager of the Golden Inn Motel.
‘Some kind of big sporting event tomorrow,’ the manager answered, eyeing Mudge nervously.
‘Cricket!’ Mudge growled. His ears blazed a startling shade of crimson. He looked set to implode at any moment.
‘Lawn bowls . . . some big comp.’
‘Ah, you don’t say?’ Mudge was pleasantly surprised. He rocked back and forth on his loafers. ‘An admirable sport. Tomorrow, you say?’
Just then the teacher’s phone rang. He blushed as he checked the name on the screen.
‘Hang on, kids, I need to take this.’
‘Bet it’s Lav-in-ia,’ Davey nudged the others. They waited outside the Golden Inn Motel as Mudge talked.
Mudge hummed and ha-ed his way through the call and managed to make it sound as if they had chosen not to sleep in a motel. He framed it as a group-bonding exercise to test team unity and stamina.
‘These kids need to face a bit of hardship, build resilience,’ he continued.
‘I have a bad feeling about this,’ Davey whispered.
‘Excellent, all under control,’ Mudge assured the principal as he disconnected the call.
The sound of Trundle’s voice appeared to breathe new life into Mudge. He stood a little straighter and there was a new lightness to his step as he marched out of the Golden Inn in the direction of the main street.
‘We need to crack hardy and treat this as the challenge it is,’ Mudge called over his shoulder. ‘Follow me, team!’
‘Are we going to sleep on the bus?’ George asked Davey.
‘Don’t be silly. Mr Mudge would never let that happen!’ Bella said as she scuttled past.
Davey wasn’t so sure. Mudge would happily let Davey sleep in a skip if he had his way.
Mudge halted his march and gathered them around. ‘We’re going camping,’ he said.
‘Camping?’ Sunil mouthed the words.
‘But the campsites are all full,’ Davey pointed out.
‘I have an idea,’ Mudge replied smugly.
Half an hour later, they were back at the empty cricket field. The Whackers were long gone.
Back home having hot meals and getting into warm beds, Davey thought bitterly.
There was an open paddock next to the cricket pitch which was close to the toilet block and taps but some distance away from the road.
‘This paddock will do fine,’ Mudge announced.
They placed their new camping gear in a large pile. They had six tents, nineteen sleeping bags, one blow-up mattress with a pump, one camp stove, some dehydrated meals and one dog.
‘Last group to get their tent up cooks dinner.’
There was a chorus of groans.
‘And puts up my tent and blows up my mattress with the thingummy,’ Mudge pointed to the air pump.
‘Tent groups are: David, George, Sunil, Kevin and . . . Josh.’
Davey and Josh locked eyes. Neither of them wanted to be in a small enclosed space together.
Mudge pointed to individuals and ticked off the groups. The girls were all in one tent together. Mo Clouter and his two henchmen, Nero and Tony, were together. Caspar Chan and the other team members shared the fourth and fifth tents. Mudge had the sixth tent – and only mattress – all to himself.
Mudge had found some tents on sale and bought those. They were the old-fashioned pyramid shape which needed poles and pegs.
‘Where are the poles?’ Davey asked as he unpacked the equipment.
‘Let me do it, Warner.’ Josh snatched the bag from Davey.
‘Hey!’ Davey had had just about enough of being bossed around by Josh.
Josh grabbed the tent but Davey hung on grimly. They both pulled.
‘Just give it to me, Warner. I know how to put up a tent.’
‘So do I, Jarrett!’ Davey exclaimed.
Davey pulled hard at the same moment as Josh. The tent tore in half, right down the middle.
‘Now you’ve done it!’ Josh snarled at Davey.
‘Me?’
The group had no option but to try to make a cover out of the fly and remaining poles and pegs. It looked precarious at best.
‘I so hope it rains tonight!’ Mo laughed.
Mudge had also bought a whistle at the camping store. Now he blew it right in Davey’s left ear.
Davey missed the next few words due to temporary deafness, but by the looks on his friends’ faces he gathered they were the cooks for the night.
CHAPTER 8
DOG EAT DOG
‘It looks weird.’ Bella peered nervously at the contents in her bowl.
It was true that the meal looked less like the delicious cheesy pasta on the packet, and more like a bowl of dead grubs floating in a muddy puddle.
‘We used too much water.’
Davey glared at Josh as he served the food. He and Josh had argued about how to light the stove and cook the dinner. By the time they got around to putting up Mudge’s tent, they were no longer speaking to each other.
‘I’m not eating that,’ Mo said.
‘It’s this or nothing,’ Davey countered.
Mudge gave the pasta a tentative prod with his fork. ‘What happened to the supplies we brought from home?’
Davey opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Davey felt eighteen pairs of eyes bore into him.
‘War-ner?’ Mudge asked, with a special edge to his voice. The day had taken its toll on the teacher and he looked even older than usual.
‘When you locked Max in the bus during the practice session . . . well . . . he ate everything.’
‘And you only thought to tell us now?’ What light had been left in Mudge’s eyes went out.
’Sorry, Sir.’ Davey had foolishly hoped that nobody would remember the food.
‘Keep that dog away from me or, so help me . . .’ Mudge pointed a shaking finger at Max. His ears had turned black. He stood up slowly and trudged to his tent without another word.
The rest of the group stared dagger eyes at Max and Davey.
‘You can’t blame Max, it’s his animal nature!’ Davey said. ‘It’s Mudge’s fault really.’
Bella clapped her hands. ‘Cheerleaders, gather!’
George sighed, Mo rolled his eyes, and Ivy looked slightly hysterical, but they clambered to their feet and gathered around Bella.
‘We need to work on a whole new routine,’ Bella announced.
‘What’s the point?’ Ivy groaned. ‘Even their cheerleaders are better cricket players than our team.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ Sunil remarked.
‘Sorry, just saying . . .’ Ivy shrugged.
‘Ivy’s right!’ Bella exclaimed, flicking her ponytail decisively. ‘These are desperate times and desperate times call for new cheers.’
Bella began handing out sheets of paper. ‘I’ve
drafted a new set of choreography to go with some new cheers.’
Mo took the piece of paper, which was impressively covered with diagrams and dance steps. He ripped it in half.
Bella sucked in her breath.
Mo continued to tear the paper until it was in teeny tiny squares. Then he threw the pieces at Bella. The tiny bits of rubbish fluttered forlornly to her feet.
‘What do you think of those moves?’ he said.
‘You can tear up my cheers but you can’t break my spirit, Mo Clouter. I am unbreakable!’ Bella’s voice cracked just slightly as she marched off to her tent.
‘You’re a knucklehead,’ Davey said to Mo. He couldn’t believe he was defending Bella, but at least she was trying.
‘Tell someone who cares,’ Mo sniggered. He produced a bag of Whopper Chomps from his back pocket and grinned.
‘Night-night loser, I mean, Warner.’
‘Phee-ew!’ Davey sat up abruptly in his sleeping bag. ‘All right, who farted?’
‘Max!’ everyone yelled in unison.
‘Get your elbow out of my hip,’ Josh growled at Sunil.
‘Oof!’ George complained. His face was pressed up against the side of the fly.
‘Could Mudge have chosen more stony ground?’ grumbled Kevin as he rolled over for the fifth time.
Even Max found it too much to take and slunk outside in a huff.
Eventually they settled again. Davey was so tired he began to drift off . . . only to be jolted awake by the sound of a tractor engine.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’ Davey cursed. ‘Who’s driving a tractor in the middle of the night?’
‘Ssh!’ George warned Davey. ‘It’s not a tractor . . . Listen.’
George was right. It wasn’t a tractor. It was someone snoring.
‘Mudge!’ Davey whispered.
He lay on his back and gave up on sleep. Davey thought about the game the next morning. In his last game for the rep side, Davey had played really well and the Slammers won. The chances of that happening in the morning were slim.
Davey pulled his Ricky Ponting poster out of his pocket and unfolded it. Despite the dark, he could just make out Ricky’s smiling face. It always calmed him and gave him confidence to speak to his hero.
‘Ever gone out against a team you have no hope of beating?’ he whispered to Ricky.
More times than you can imagine, Ricky replied.
‘What do we do?’ Davey asked. He felt desperate about the morning.
It’s all about teamwork. Ricky gave him a wink. If you’re this badly outgunned, then you have to pull together.
Fat chance of that happening, Davey thought.
‘What are you doing, Warner?’ growled Josh.
Davey hurried to fold up the poster, but it was too late.
Josh snatched it out of his hand. ‘You talk to a poster of Ricky Ponting?’ he asked.
‘Give that back!’ Davey snapped.
Josh held up the worn and creased poster of Ricky and laughed.
‘Is that your pre-game strategy?’ Josh snorted.
‘What about it?’ Davey answered defensively.
‘Explains a lot!’ Josh shoved the poster back at Davey and turned his back. ‘Now shut up so we can get some sleep, Warner,’
Davey did as he was told. Despite Mudge’s impressive tractor impersonation, Davey fell asleep almost immediately.
CHAPTER 9
SLEEPLESS WITH THE SHORTHORNS
It was halfway through the day’s play and the Whackers looked worried. Davey could hardly believe how well the Slammers had all pulled together when it really counted. They were in with a chance.
Josh high-fived Davey as they took the innings break. Even Mudge seemed impressed.
‘You look thirsty, Warner.’ Mo handed Davey a water bottle. ‘You need to stay hydrated.’
Mo was right. Davey was hot. Hot stuff. He could feel it in his bones – they were going to win.
‘Great job, Davey!’ Bella crooned as she handed Davey an orange quarter. Then she surprised Davey by spitting on a tissue and cleaning his face with it.
‘Bella, stop!’
Davey pushed her away. A loud bellow thundered in his face.
Bella?
Davey woke up. He sat up in terror to find himself face to face with an overly friendly cow.
‘AAH!’
Davey roughly shook his friends awake. ‘We have company.’
The field they had been sleeping in was now chock-a-block full of cows.
Sunil opened his eyes. ‘Woah!’
George shrieked.
Davey snapped his fingers in front of Kevin’s face. ‘Wakey, wakey, McNab.’
‘Where’s my mummy?’ Kevin asked, still half asleep. He opened his eyes. A cow was nuzzling his face.
‘COW!’
‘And lots of them.’
The six small tents were completely surrounded by cows. But the animals seemed oblivious as they moseyed around the field, grazing.
The boys wriggled out of their sleeping bags and stretched their legs.
It was just before dawn. The sun was still below the horizon but it would be up soon. After their initial shock, it was quite relaxing to watch the cows meander around the field chewing cud, punctuated by the odd chime from a cow bell or a low moo.
So this was the country.
‘Where’s Josh?’
Sunil had a point. Where was Jarrett?
‘Maybe he found a place to sleep where he was less likely to be trampled?’ Kevin suggested.
Somewhere in Davey’s foggy tired brain he remembered a rumour he’d heard about Jarrett.
‘He’s a sleepwalker.’
‘No, really?’ The others were intrigued.
‘Yeah,’ George agreed, ‘I remember now. I heard a story about him leaving his house and walking down the street. His brother noticed he was gone and they went looking for him.’
‘He could be anywhere . . .’ Kevin looked out at the dark street before them. Behind them stretched a paddock full of cows and more cows.
‘Let’s not get carried away. Knowing Jarrett, he’s curled up inside the bus getting a great night’s sleep.’
The friends got dressed and started a search. First the toilet block, then the bus. No Jarrett.
Davey checked the girls’ tent. No Jarrett.
George checked Mudge’s tent. No Jarrett.
Kevin checked the two other tents. No Jarrett.
Sunil checked Mo’s tent and sniggered. He called quietly to the others to take a look.
Sunil held a finger up to his lips. ‘Sssh.’
Mo was curled up fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth clutching a worn teddy bear to his chest. Davey pulled a phone from his jacket pocket and took a photo.
The others chuckled quietly and high-fived. They had Mo!
But no Jarrett.
‘Let’s do a quick search of the neighbouring streets,’ Kevin suggested.
Davey and Kevin nodded. The sun was starting to come up.
They fanned out and searched the streets nearby. It was so different from the city with its small houses and yards. These properties were on huge rural blocks dotted with sheep, cows and horses.
‘It’s no good,’ Kevin announced, after they’d walked a few streets. ‘He could be anywhere.’
‘Let’s go get the others to help.’
Sunil checked his watch. ‘We have a game in two hours.’
By the time they got back to the campsite, the sun was up and the team was emerging from their tents in dribs and drabs. As funny as it was to watch sleepy people get startled by being greeted by a field full of cows, the boys were aware the clock was ticking.
Mudge was still snoring like a chainsaw.
They needed a plan.
As much as Davey hated to admit it, they needed Josh. Their chances of winning were slim enough. Without Jarrett, they were less than zero.
Davey whistled for Max. The foxie trotted up wagging his tail h
appily.
Davey waved Josh’s smelly batting glove under Max’s nose. ‘It’s up to you, Max. Time to redeem yourself. We need you to find Josh Jarrett.’
CHAPTER 10
HULLABALLOO BULLABALLOO
‘Where’s Josh, Max?’ Davey asked. ‘Find him!’
Max ran around in a tight circle three times, barking excitedly. Follow me, he seemed to be saying.
The dog took off at a trot with his nose to the ground. He circled the paddock dodging cows as he went. Before too long he headed up the gentle incline and further into the paddock. He looked back at Davey and barked.
‘Let’s go,’ Davey announced.
The search party consisted of Davey, George, Sunil and Kevin. Everyone else was still asleep.
The group trudged through the paddocks, picking their way past thorny hedges and tufts of spiky grass. There were fields as far as the eye could see. Here and there a few sheep grazed, but in the main it was cattle and more cattle.
Now they were climbing a hill. There was less grass for the cows to eat here and more tussocks and large boulders.
‘Maybe he climbed the fence?’ Kevin pointed to a shiny metal fence.
The fence hummed with a low buzz. An insect flew onto it and was instantly zapped.
‘It’s electric. Or maybe not?’
Davey stepped in about the fifth cow patty since they had begun walking. ‘Phooey, so much for fresh country air,’ he grimaced.
He sighed and looked around. All he could see were paddocks and more paddocks. It was like an oil painting of the country.
‘This is hopeless. We need to go back and tell Mudge what’s happened. We need a proper search party.’
Sunil nodded.
Just then Max’s white tail bounded towards them. He was barking furiously.
Hurry up! Hurry up! He seemed to be saying.
‘It’s okay, Max,’ Davey soothed his dog. ‘I didn’t really think you’d find him.’
Davey signalled for everyone to head back.
GRRRRrrrr.
Max grabbed Davey’s trouser leg and held on.
‘Max, you dumb dog, let go!’ Davey ordered.
But the foxie held on and pulled. He growled menacingly and bared his teeth at Davey.
