by Lollie Barr
‘Don’t you talk about my mum and dad unless you want a punch in the face, Stunt Boy! You’ve been getting on my nerves always bragging how good you are at everything, never listening when I have something to tell you. It’s always about you, you, you.’
Benny looked triple mad, like that time he had a fight at school because someone said his mum and dad’s vegan restaurant should be called ‘the house of dead vegetables’.
‘Is not,’ I said, raising my voice.
‘Calm down, you two, you’re going to get us busted shouting like that,’ whispered Caleb, standing between us. Not that I was going to do anything because Benny could kill me in a fight. Anyway, who wants to fight their best friend? That would be the stupidest thing ever.
‘You can’t tell me what to do, Caleb Calloway. I don’t even like motocross, it’s not even an Olympic sport,’ said Benny, who was as tall and as wide as Caleb. ‘Not like wrestling and you didn’t even come to the State titles, Stunt!’
The State titles! With everything that was going on, I’d completely forgotten.
‘Come on, dudes, let’s not make a scene,’ said Caleb, shepherding us away from the entrance to behind a hotdog stall that was moulded like a big yellow bun with a giant plastic red hotdog poking out both ends. There was just enough room to hide us from view.
‘Aw, Benny!’ I said, feeling worse than bad as I saw the hurt in his eyes. I slapped my hand to my forehead. I hadn’t even rung to wish him good luck! No wonder he was so irked at me. Maybe Benny was right. Maybe I did think about myself too much and not enough about him.
‘I completely forgot they were on! I’m a mutant sometimes. How did you go?’ I asked, my tone conciliatory.
‘Yeah, you are, Stunt,’ said Benny, not accepting my apology. ‘You’re a selfish mutant idiot who only thinks of himself. You have to be the star of the show, the top dog, the main guy. And I won, as if you care.’
‘You won? You won!’ I said, getting super excited for him. ‘You’re going to the nationals? You’re getting the superstar tracksuit!’
‘It’s coming next week,’ he said, looking at the ground.
‘Benny, that’s awesome! Of course I care. You’re my best mate, I am an idiot,’ I said, feeling like an idiot. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll let you practise the choke hold on me every day! I’ll carry your gym bag to the nationals! I’ll be your own personal cheer squad! I’ll even wear a leotard and a cape! How can I make it up to you? Would saving your mum and dad help?’
‘Whatever, Stunt,’ said Benny still mad. ‘I can save my own parents without your help.’
‘What are you kids still doing here?’ said the ticket guy who had let us in for free by mistake.
‘We’re just getting some money together to buy a hotdog,’ said Benny, switching from his super annoyed brain to his lying brain and digging into his pockets for change. ‘Do you know if they sell vegetarian sausages?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! It’s an animal circus!’ the ticketman said walking away shaking his head.
Caleb walked to the front of the stall and returned with two hotdogs. The hotdogs were rubbery and the buns hard and stale. Stoked hotdogs are much better – we use only quality sausages called bratwurst, which are German sausages all the way from Germany. People come to our circus just for the hotdogs. I couldn’t even finish Chesterley’s hotdog because it was so disgusting, so I wrapped it up in the napkin and stuck it in my hoodie pocket because I knew Blindfold would eat it, even if it wasn’t top quality.
A sweep of bright headlights from a car illuminated the hotdog stall. As the car drove past, the floodlights exposed the passengers. It was my uncles! What the hell were they doing here? The car pulled up on the other side of the hotdog stall.
‘How many?’ I heard the hotdog guy ask. Beneath the giant hotdog bun, I could see four feet wearing matching pairs of white slip-on leather shoes.
‘Three for me,’ said Kevin. ‘I’m starving.’
‘This land stinks,’ said Ken. ‘No wonder Chesterley’s trying to get out of here.’
‘Hey, honey!’ said one of them. ‘Want a hotdog?’
‘No,’ said a female voice with disdain. The voice sounded familiar, but it was such a short word I couldn’t place who it belonged to. I could see a pair of green high-heeled shoes had joined the white-shoe brigade.
Then, to my right, I saw a couple of goon clowns exiting the tent. Benny saw them too. Luckily he was used to making quick moves from all his wrestling training, so he lifted the skirt of the circus tent and we all disappeared underneath.
Inside the big top, the house lights were up and the tent was deserted. There was a strange eerie feeling inside.
‘What are my uncles doing here, that’s what I would like to know,’ I said.
‘The plot thickens like lumpy porridge,’ said Caleb.
Benny started to head off by himself.
‘Where are you going?’ I asked.
‘I’ve got to find my mum and dad,’ he said and Caleb and I just kind of followed him. Benny didn’t turn around and tell us to go away, so I guess he wanted our help after all.
P.S. Who invented the hotdog?
The hotdog was created in the late 1600s by Johann Georghehner, a butcher from Coburg, Germany.
24
Stunt Boy is on the loose
Backstage was a rabbit warren of dressing rooms, but unlike our backstage, which is clean and cosy and there were always people hanging around having a laugh, here it was deserted. The stench you could smell outside was even worse inside.
‘I think we should split up,’ said Caleb. ‘Have you got a phone, Benny?’
‘Yeah, why?’ he replied.
‘Ring this number,’ said Caleb, giving Benny his number. Benny looked at me and nodded as if he was happy to have Caleb Calloway’s number in his phone, before ringing the number.
‘Great,’ he said. ‘We’ve got each other’s number in case anything happens.’
Caleb said he would sneak around on his own because he was very nearly an adult. I was glad Caleb didn’t say we should sneak around together because Benny would have felt left out.
Benny and I searched the backstage area, sticking our heads in and out of dressing rooms, storerooms, animal holding areas, make-up areas and mess areas, but there were no signs of Benny’s parents.
‘I know where my mum and dad will be – where Chesterley keeps all his prisoners – in the cages,’ said Benny with a frown that carved a line into his forehead because he was so worried and angry at the same time. ‘He’s probably roughing them up now.’
I poked my head out of the big top to check whether the coast was clear when suddenly I felt myself pulled back with such force that my legs lifted clear off the ground. My brain thought it was Benny playing a joke, then I heard a man’s voice.
‘It’s you damn kids causing more trouble again!’
He had me in a full headlock, his left arm knocking off my beanie. I cocked my head to the side to see Biggsy in full clown makeup – a white painted face, big black eyes and an ugly painted-on orange smile.
He grabbed Benny, holding his T-shirt in a big bunch with his right hand as Benny’s backpack slipped off his shoulder to the floor. ‘This time it’s the lion’s cage for you. I don’t care what Chesterley says, you’re lion’s meat.’
Benny dropped his shoulder and slithered out of his T-shirt so he was bare chested. Wow, he sure was pumped up from all that training! I didn’t know whether he’d just performed a wrestling move or not, but it was awesome and he was free. But he didn’t run away. He turned and faced Biggsy, his hands held low beneath his hips and his shoulders hunched forward as if he was about to start a tournament.
‘Where are my mum and dad?’ said Benny. He wasn’t even scared, he was just furious. The headlock
Biggsy had me in got even tighter. I could feel my ears smouldering as if they had been put in a toaster as Biggsy moved around trying to avoid Benny. Then Benny charged at Biggsy’s legs, so we were all sent crashing to the floor.
‘Run, Stunt, run!’ yelled Benny as we retreated back into the circus tent with Biggsy following us.
‘Stunt Boy is on the loose. I repeat, Stunt Boy is on the loose,’ Biggsy yelled into his two-way radio, the crackle of static following as he chased us.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw another couple of goon ballerina clowns appear from out of nowhere.
Parked right next to the ring was the small pink clown car, the glittering keys catching my eye under the bright house lights. My brain figured that it was the best way to escape, as the goons couldn’t outrun a car, even if it was pink with spots and for clowns. I jumped in and Benny slid in behind me. Luckily I was a stunt boy, which meant I was a pretty amazing driver.
I revved her up and the car took off just as the clowns made a grab for us. They chased us around the circus ring but my driving was so good I outmanoeuvred them at every turn, throwing sick hand break turns and, at one point, chucking a rev-head doughnut that filled the air with dust.
Biggsy roared and came charging towards us as we were nearing the exit. ‘Get out of my car!’ he yelled.
He was blocking our path to freedom. His mouth was wide open, so I could see right to the back of his disgusting pink and brown throat, down deep to where his tonsils lived.
He stepped out to grab me and I ran right over his foot, but the force sent the clown car into a pole. Biggsy was on the ground and tears like puddles rolled down his face which was all black and muddy from his black eye make-up.
Benny and I jumped out of the mangled clown car and ran for the rows of seats.
‘Up the scaffolding! Run!’ I cried out to Benny, starting up the stairs.
I made my way up higher and higher past the rows of empty seats towards the rigging, which held all of the lights, sound and circus equipment. I’d grown up climbing the rigging with my dad, so he could check everything was in place and safe for our stunts.
‘Come on, Benny, climb, climb!’ I yelled to Benny, who was just reaching the stairs. I could see the two clowns gaining on him. ‘You can do it, come on, Benny, faster!’
Benny had started to climb when the two clowns grabbed his legs. Using his left hand, he reached into the pocket of his tracksuit pants and pulled out his mobile phone and threw it up to me before he was pulled down to the ground. ‘Call for help!’ he yelled. Then, from out of nowhere, there was a bull hook at his throat.
‘Move one inch and you’ll be sorry, I mean it this time!’ said Chesterley who appeared out of the shadows, the monkey on his shoulder. The monkey jumped down and started chattering away right up in Benny’s face as he lay flat on the ground. Not chattering in a ‘How are you, Benny?’ kind of way, more like an ‘Oo oo ah ah I’m going to rip your face off’ kind of way.
‘Where are my parents?’ screamed Benny. ‘What have you done with my parents?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ said Chesterley, with a sneer of sheer malice.
I couldn’t go back this time as I wouldn’t be able to save Benny from Barry Chesterley and his clowns by myself.
My mind started to race. Would Barry Chesterley really let Biggsy feed Benny to the lions? I just hoped that Benny didn’t get eaten before I had the chance to save him. Where was Caleb anyway? Was he a prisoner as well?
‘Bring him down, Brian! Bring me the head of Runt Boy,’ said Chesterley to his monkey before pointing his pudgy finger towards me. Brian started jumping up and down and baring his teeth.
‘Climb, Stunt Boy! Climb!’ yelled Benny as he sat up. ‘Be careful though – monkeys have four times the strength of humans in a fight, and whatever you do, don’t show the monkey your teeth!’
Chesterley clamped his hand over Benny’s mouth. ‘Shut up, boy. You’re in enough trouble as it is. The police are on their way for your parents, who are going to have the book thrown at them. They’ll be jailed for life and then you’ll grow up without a mum and dad,’ he said with a nasty leer.
The clowns dragged Benny to his feet, holding his arms behind his back because by now they knew Benny was an amazing wrestler. It must have really hurt because Benny’s face was all crumpled up in pain, but he didn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry.
I climbed super fast, but not fast enough because each time I looked behind me I could see Brian the monkey gaining on me. I got to the central beam and looked down at the circus ring below. My heart was fully racing and I could feel sweat trickling down my back. I slithered across the central beam commando style on my tummy, my elbows pulling me along.
‘Brian, you numb nut dumb monkey brain, catch him!’ said Chesterley, his voice booming around the big top.
I turned to see Brian gaining on me as he crossed the beam with ease. He reached out, grabbed at my right trouser leg and tried to violently shake me right off the beam. I gripped on tight and used every bit of available strength to hold on.
‘Bryun, we can be fwiends? Come and live at our circus with me and Blindfold,’ I said turning my head to face him. I was covering my teeth with my lips remembering what Benny had said about not showing your teeth to an aggressive monkey, which made me sound as if I were a kid of about two with the cutest lisp. Then I remembered I had the remains of a hotdog in my pocket. ‘Do you like wotdogs, Bryun? You want some wotdog?’
Brian looked a little confused as if no one had ever talked to him in a singsong baby voice, or else he recognised the word ‘hotdog’ because he stopped shaking for a second and his expression softened. I’m sure he even smiled a little because I was being nice to him. I reached into my hoodie pocket and pulled out the remains of the hotdog as well as Benny’s mobile, which I tucked safely under my chin. I tossed the hotdog to Brian, who expertly caught it before he delicately unwrapped the hotdog and started eating.
Sitting up on the beam, my legs dangling, I dialled as quickly as I could.
‘Benny?’ said Jem.
‘No, it’s Stunt,’ I replied urgently.
‘Where are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you. You’ve got to get to the hospital. I’ve been calling Caleb but he isn’t answering.’
‘Jem! I –’ I yelled into the phone.
‘You should be here at the hospital,’ she said, cutting me off, her voice sounding all desperate and scary.
The word ‘hospital’ made me stop.
‘Is Dad okay?’ I asked.
‘We’re waiting for you so the doctors can –’ she said, still not telling me if Dad was okay.
‘Brian! Get him!’ demanded Chesterley from below. ‘Or else I’ll skin you alive!’
Maybe Brian did understand English because his face crumpled and then he reared up, as if he was ready to pounce. He let out a monkey battle cry that sort of sounded like, ‘Ar Ar Oooh Oooh Ar Ar Ar Ar Ar’.
‘What the hell is going on? Where are you?’’ said Jem. ‘What are you up to Stunt –’
‘Jem! Listen,’ I yelled down the phone over the top of Brian’s battle cries, my breath coming out all exasperated. ‘I’m stuck at the top of Chesterley’s rigging. Benny is a prisoner, so are his mum and dad, Caleb has disappeared and a monkey is about to rip my face off. Bryun, calm down, Bryun.’
‘Who the hell is Brian when he’s at home?’ she asked, confusion obvious in her voice. ‘And why are you talking in a baby voice?’
Brian was now in a fully agitated state. He whacked my arm, knocking the phone out of my hand and sending it crashing to the floor. I scrambled up on to my feet using the balancing skills I learned for tightrope walking. Everyone in the ring below looked as if they were ants as I walked backwards along the beam. Brian exposed his teeth and lifted his arms high above his head, trying to intimidate
me.
As I looked down, I saw the rope from Benny’s mum and dad’s protest dangling from the beam. I dropped to my haunches, taking the stance of a monkey and manoeuvred myself off the beam and onto the rope, as Brian leant over looking down at me with his big brown monkey eyes. As I slithered down the rope, the goons below swung it backwards, forwards and in figures of eights. I looked up to see Brian’s bright pink, bulbous monkey butt inches from my face. Now I really knew how Benny felt. The swaying became more violent and the rope cut into my hands when Brian jumped on my back. Then everything went black.
25
Evil death breath
I slowly came to consciousness as something licked my face. It smelt familiar, kind of like a mix of cabbage, brussels sprouts and rotting meat. My heart beat triple fast. Was I about to be eaten by a lion or a tiger or something else with evil death breath?
I opened my eyes, my vision all blurry, to see Blindfold times four before my very eyes. I tried to focus, blinking between my left and right eyes, which meant I had to open my mouth, so I gagged on the smell. The four Blindfolds then morphed into one Blindfold and he slipped his tongue into my mouth, going for a big doggie snog. I was pleased to see him, but not so pleased that I wanted a tongue-kiss!
‘Blindfold? How did you get all the way OverEast?’ I asked him. At that point I really wished I could have spoken dog because he barked out an explanation, but I couldn’t understand him.
It was when I went to wipe Blindfold’s saliva off my face that I realised it was impossible – my arms were bound tightly against my chest in a straitjacket! Despite being trussed up like a chicken, having a splitting headache and a face full of dog spit, I burst out laughing.
‘How dumb are these people?’ I said to Blindfold. ‘Who would put a kid that does stunts in a straitjacket when that kid is famous for his straitjacket escapes?’
Blindfold barked at their sheer stupidity, even if he did hate straitjackets more than anything else in the world apart from Barry Chesterley.
