The Adventures of Stunt Boy and His Amazing Wonder Dog Blindfold

by Lollie Barr

  ‘Did you see that?’ I said to Jem and Ginger. ‘Dad winked, I swear!’

  Nobody else saw it, but I know I did and that’s all that mattered.

  16

  He’s a superfreak with a motorbike

  ‘You got him to come to Stoked and to perform for free! You the man, Stunt!’ said Benny, looking up in awe at the Caleb Calloway poster on my bedroom wall. ‘Respect!’

  The good news was that instead of grounding Benny for life, Benny’s mum had decided that two weeks was enough time to make the point that you shouldn’t do something just because someone makes chicken noises at you, and she’d let Benny come to Stoked for a sleepover.

  When Benny and I first saw each other, we didn’t hug or say, ‘Oh my god, I missed you!’ like best girlfriends would have done if they’d been forcefully separated for two weeks.

  I just said, ‘Hey, how are you going?’ like we’d seen each other yesterday.

  And Benny replied, ‘Hey. Good. You?’

  ‘Yeah good,’ I replied, although I was tricked-out happy to see him and was just busting a gut to fill him in on everything that been happening at Stoked.

  Only Blindfold acted how he really felt – super excited. When he saw Benny he went running up and jumped into his arms for a long cuddle and then bounced around at Benny’s heels as we walked through the circus towards the caravan.

  However, by the time we got back to the caravan, my mouth was running at a million miles an hour. Benny was one of the few people that my mouth wanted to speak to because he was a really good listener. He just stayed silent and didn’t interrupt as I told him everything that had been going on.

  When I got to the part about Ginger Style’s snot in Jem’s hair, Benny cracked up and his laugh alone had me in hysterics for fifteen minutes. Benny’s laugh goes completely silent at some points. His mouth opens so wide it looks like an unexplored cave. He’s laughing but no sound is coming out. It’s as if he stops breathing. Maybe only dogs can hear it because Blindfold usually goes running out of the caravan. Once, at school, a casual teacher, who wasn’t used to Benny’s laugh, thought he was having an asthma attack and ran out of the room to get the school nurse.

  ‘So, Stunt, you want to hear my news? The State championships are on in two weeks. I’ve been training like a maniac,’ said Benny, lifting up the sleeve of his shirt and showing me how bulky his arms had got. ‘My coach says that I am in top physical –’

  ‘Physical?’ I said, the word triggering something super important. ‘That reminds me – you’ve got to check out what Caleb sent me. It’s his new DVD. It’s not even out yet! He emailed it to me and I burned a DVD, so we can watch it on television. It’s called Physical Impossibility because the stuff Caleb does looks physically impossible but it’s not because he’s doing it in real life! We’re like the first people in the world to see it.’

  ‘Yeah, great,’ said Benny as I slotted the DVD into the player.

  As the sound of thrash metal came thundering over the speaker I started playing air guitar and jumping on the bed. Benny must have liked the DVD, too, because he sat on the floor with his chin in his hands, watching it, but not saying much because he was concentrating so hard.

  At 1.30 pm we went backstage for the crew briefing for the matinee. Everyone was happy to see Benny back and greeted him in slightly different ways – Benny, Sir Ben, Benny Boy, Big Ben, Benster, Benjimeister, Bensternator, B-Boy, and other weird variations on the name Benjamin. Benny was part of the Stoked family, that’s why he had so many nicknames.

  Before every Stoked show, it was our ritual for the cast and crew to stand in a circle and Dad would brief us on the house numbers, special guests and important news. Ginger Styles, being the manager now, did the briefing, so I thought she’d be the one to tell everyone the fantastic news about Caleb’s arrival, but instead she left it to me.

  ‘I’ve been the bearer of bad news recently,’ she told everyone, ‘but we have some very good news for a change, courtesy of our very own Stunt Boy.’ She gave a sweep of the arms as if to introduce me to the audience. ‘Stunt?’

  Looking down at me, the entire cast, wearing their show outfits in a rainbow of styles, fabrics and colours, were all glittery cheekbones, false eyelashes, lipstick, teased hair, moustaches, groomed beards, and pierced faces. Pikelet was looking up at me because he’s shorter.

  ‘Caleb Calloway is going to perform at Stoked. He’s going to be our headliner,’ I said, looking down at my feet, shy for a moment. When I looked up everyone was smiling at me. ‘I asked him and he said yes! We’ve got him for two weeks for free!’

  A cheer broke out, but one or two performers looked confused.

  ‘Who is Caleb Calloway?’ asked Leonie. She was dressed in a leopard-print leotard, her hair in dreadlocks of green, blue and pink. She didn’t know Caleb Calloway because she’s into aerials, not motorbike aerials. It wasn’t her fault.

  ‘Only the most hype kid ever to ride a bike,’ said Dirk. He was wearing his black leathers with red stars. ‘He’s like a teenage motorbike-riding genius. Tours the world playing to packed stadiums.’

  ‘He’s a superfreak with a motorbike,’ said Hayley. ‘Kids are so into him. They’ll come from everywhere to see him. Plus girls love him because he’s kind of hot.’

  I looked over at Jem, counting to three before her red ears popped out of her hair. I knew she liked him, but not for the same reason as me, which was that he was an awesome bike rider.

  ‘Three cheers for Stunt!’ said Fat Freddy, then people gathered around me, squeezing my arms and slapping me on the back.

  They said stuff like I was amazing and resourceful and that my dad would be so proud of me. When they talked about Dad, I got a feeling in the back of my throat, kind of like a tickling that made tears rush to my eyes, but I stopped them before they fell out and ran down my face.

  Blindfold sensed the excitement and ran around the circle excitedly, wagging his tail and saying hello to everybody. He got about twenty-two individual pats, rubs and tickles on his stomach.

  Then Pikelet lead the Stoked chant, the one we do before every show and which has been done every show since Granddad John made it up forty-one years ago. I took Benny’s hand, he took Jem’s hand, Jem took Sue’s hand, Sue took Leonie’s hand, and so on and so forth. I won’t name everyone who worked at the circus, but you get the picture. We were all holding hands.

  ‘Let’s wow them, let’s make them smile, let’s make this the day of days, the show of shows, but when we’ve finished, no broken toes. Hooray!’ we all shouted, raising our hands in the air and cheering.

  Despite the fact that the big top was only a third full, that night was the best show we’d done since my dad’s accident. Maybe because we were positive about the future again.

  Benny stayed over and slept on the pull-out trundle bed right next to mine. We call it ‘Benny’s Bed’ because Benny always sleeps there when he stays the night.

  ‘Stunt, you know what?’ said Benny, his voice soft and anxious.

  ‘What?’ I replied in the darkness.

  ‘I hate going to sleep because I keep having nightmares.’

  ‘What kind of nightmares?’ I said. Nightmares are horrible. After Dad’s accident, nightmares lived under my bed, just waiting to take over my mind as soon as I fell asleep.

  ‘That I’m trapped in that cage and can’t get out. I dream that the bars are alive and they get so tight I can’t breathe. Imagine if that was your whole life? Being stuck in a cage? I’d never be a criminal because I’d hate to live in a cage in a prison. My mum says humans shouldn’t be in cages and neither should animals. She’s super steamed up about it, but the council says Chesterley is within his rights to run an animal circus. You know how you’re stunt people, Stunt, well, we are animal people.’

  ‘I’m an animal person too, Benny, even if I’m not a vegan. I keep thinki
ng of that baby elephant’s sad eye when he looked at me through the hole,’ I said.

  ‘I keep seeing another kind of hole!’ said Benny, before doing a Benny laugh that went silent for so long that I had to lean down and shake him to make sure he was alive.

  Later on in the night, Benny shouted out in his sleep and Blindfold jumped off my bed and snuggled up next to him. Benny didn’t have any bad dreams after that.

  17

  Kids aren’t dumb!

  Three things woke me up the next morning: the sun shining right onto my eyeballs through a gap where I hadn’t closed my curtains properly; Blindfold, who had returned to my bed, using my chin as a pillow so his breath was going right up my nose; and Benny’s stinking feet, which smelt like cheese with blue mould through it. His mum makes him wash his feet before he goes to bed because ever since he turned twelve, his feet have got disgustingly cheesy, but because his mum wasn’t here, he didn’t wash them last night. He was flipped upside down in the bed and his feet were opposite my head, so I woke up gagging.

  My dad loves it. Not Benny’s stinky feet. That mouldy cheese stuff. When he buys it, it’s so strong that it stinks our whole caravan out. Dad made me try it as he says I should try everything before I say I hate it. He’s right, I found out I liked oysters, which taste like the ocean in your mouth, after thinking that I hate them because they look so gross. Benny tried one, too, but he hates them. He spat his out and even Blindfold wouldn’t eat it. It just lay in the dirt, looking like a huge gob, so I went off oysters again after liking them for fifteen seconds.

  Benny and I had normal stuff for breakfast: cereal and then two slices of toast with vegan peanut butter and banana. Benny had four slices and two bananas because he had to eat to feed his body for training.

  Benny’s mum came to pick him up early because he had wrestling training as the State championships were getting closer and closer.

  After training, I headed up to the bike shed because I had to do some riding practise. School holidays for most kids meant mooching, chilling, playing and hanging. For me, it was practise, practise, practise, particularly as Caleb was arriving and I wanted to be right on my game. I was hoping he’d teach me some new tricks. After he’d slept in, of course. That was in the terms and conditions of Caleb coming. Sleeping in.

  Just as I started to push my bike out of the shed, Hayley emerged from beneath a hoist where she had been tinkering with the engine of her motorbike.

  ‘Hey, it’s the man with a plan!’ she said, walking over to the sink, taking off her gloves and then smothering her hands with Gumption, the stuff we use to clean our hands. Hayley is very particular about her hands. While everyone else would give their hands a cursory wash, Hayley would clean hers with a nailbrush, even though she always wore gloves. She had some sort of allergy, so she could only wear a certain kind of glove she had to order from overseas, and she got annoyed if I ever used them. Hayley’s hands were so clean you would have thought she worked in a shop, selling cupcakes. I wished she did work in a cake shop, then she could have brought home the leftovers. I love cake.

  ‘Caleb Calloway performing at Stoked! How did you pull that one off, Stunt?’ she said, glancing around the workshop. I followed her eyes, wondering what she was looking for, and then saw her workbench with her tools everywhere. Maybe she was looking out for Lefty Blue Eye, who was a neat freak about putting your tools away as you used them. Hayley was always getting in trouble for that. ‘Although some people aren’t that impressed.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked, surprised. ‘Who’s not impressed?’

  ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

  ‘But you’ve said it now, Hayley,’ I said, sounding whiney. ‘Come on, tell me!’

  ‘Dirk says Caleb is overrated. He reckons his riding is all smoke and mirrors, more showbusiness than technical skill. I think it’s just sour grapes because a younger kid is the headliner. He was enjoying being the second headliner after Pete. Now he’s dropped down the rankings again.’

  Why was everyone so concerned about which position they were in anyway? We all got loads of applause. Anyway Hayley was such a gossip. Knowing other people’s weird thoughts makes me feel a little crazy.

  ‘Pete never had a problem being the second headliner after my dad,’ I said, as a look crossed Hayley’s face. I couldn’t tell what it was, a grimace or a smile. After what happened with Ginger Styles, I was trying not to let my mind trick me into believing everybody was suspicious.

  ‘What are you two gossiping about?’ said a gruff voice behind me. I turned around to see Biker Pete.

  ‘Hey, BP,’ I said. ‘Nothing really. I’m going to practise. Got to be on the case for when Caleb arrives.’

  ‘Good enough reason as any, Stunt,’ he replied. ‘Practise makes perfect. I’m sure you’ll show that kid a few new tricks anyway.’

  Me show Caleb a few tricks? Was he serious? I didn’t think I could teach Caleb anything.

  I went to the practise jump where we try out new tricks in safety. There are two ramps with a huge pit full of foam for crash landing, in case you lose control. I couldn’t believe that in a week Caleb would be here and we’d be on this jump together and he’d be showing me stuff. It was almost too amazing to be true but it was.

  The next morning, a huge black van with blacked-out windows and XYZ printed onto its side screamed into the circus as if it was attending a fire or some other emergency. It was the TV news crew, come to interview Jem and I about our plan to save the circus. It was Ginger’s idea, and I didn’t like it one bit. I tried to tell her I was too shy to talk on TV, but she didn’t listen.

  Out stalked a lady with a black helmet haircut, wearing a white shirt and black suit and a pair of trainers, followed by a soundman and a cameraman, who unloaded a pile of gear in silver cases out of the back of the van.

  I was feeling hot as well as nervous as I was wearing my bike leathers so they could film me doing some stunts. The sweat trickled down my back and into my bum crack, making this weird squelching sound as I walked. Jem was wearing her red catsuit. Her blonde hair was teased like a bird’s nest on top of her head and she had on more make-up than ever and I was used to seeing a lot of make-up on faces growing up in a circus. Once Benny found a couple of Jem’s false eyelashes in the shower and started screaming because he thought he was being attacked by a deadly spider.

  Ginger introduced us to the TV crew. I shook everyone’s hand because my dad had told me that it was what you should do to be polite, and we went into the big top.

  ‘We want to see the girl set herself on fire,’ said the TV lady, whose name was Jennifer Pringle.

  ‘Sorry, we can’t do that. It takes a lot of preparation and it would spoil a big part of the show,’ said Ginger.

  ‘I need something more than a girl hula-hooping a hundred and twenty-three hoops,’ said Jennifer, unimpressed. ‘It’s not exactly news.’

  ‘Maybe they could film you setting yourself on fire and hooping,’ I said helpfully.

  In the end Jem was filmed on the trapeze and on the silks, whilst I did some aerials with my bike. I did a few superman grabs, then Blindfold and I did a part of our act. The tricks were easy, but then came the hard bit. The words. My thoughts seem to come out all garbled even when I’m not nervous about being on TV. Somehow they’re clear in my head before I say them, then they get messed up between my brain and my mouth.

  ‘For the interview, I want the little kid sitting on his bike and the girl hanging upside down off the trapeze,’ said Jennifer Pringle.

  I wished people would stop referring to me as ‘little’. I was two months shy of being thirteen.

  ‘But my face will be all red on the news if I’m talking upside down!’ protested Jem.

  ‘It will make great TV and that’s the important thing,’ said the camera guy, as Jem lowered herself down off the bar and wrapped her
feet up the ropes that were holding the trapeze in place.

  I manoeuvred my bike underneath Jem, keeping my helmet firmly in place.

  ‘Take your helmet off, kid, no one wants to see a talking rubbish bin,’ said Jennifer Pringle.

  I reluctantly sat on my bike as the TV lady stood in place, microphone in hand, next to us. I watched as all the blood in Jem’s body lodged in her cheeks as she hung above me.

  ‘This is Jennifer Pringle for XYZ News and I’m reporting from Stoked Stunt Circus in OverWest,’ said Jennifer Pringle, whose normal voice morphed into a TV voice. ‘I’m with Jemima and William Stoked, who are putting on a series of shows after their father Evan’s near fatal motorbike accident whilst attempting a dangerous stunt at the circus. He has been in an induced coma at Newstadt Hospital for over a month.’

  ‘Welcome, Jemima and William,’ said Jennifer Pringle, and the camera swung around to Jem and me.

  ‘I’d prefer Stunt Boy. Nobody calls me William unless I’m in trouble,’ I said to Jennifer Pringle, trying to suppress a fit of giggles from the nerves and seeing Jem’s flaming face. ‘I’m not in trouble, am I?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ said Jennifer Pringle, looking peeved.

  ‘So,’ she began again, ‘your dad’s horrific accident didn’t put you off performing?’

  ‘It wasn’t an accident,’ I said, thinking this was the best chance to tell the world about my theory. ‘Someone made my dad crash. I think it was Barry Chesterley from Chesterley’s Family Circus –’

  ‘Cut,’ said Jennifer Pringle sharply, which gave Jem the opportunity to sit up on the trapeze and let the blood drain back out of her face.

  ‘You can’t say that on TV. We’d be sued if we let that go to air,’ she said. ‘This is supposed to be a feel-good story.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel too good when someone tries to put your dad out of action and close down your circus,’ I said. ‘That’s why Caleb is coming. Barry Chesterley –’