As we walked in through the school gate, Molly quickly disappeared and I headed to my classroom. Would Brody Callahan be at school today? Half of me hoped he’d been attacked by the ghost, so he couldn’t bully me anymore.
No such luck. I rounded the corner of the building and saw Brody standing in line.
He looked up and ordered me over.
The horrible grin was still stuck to his face. ‘Worked out a plan, have you?’
‘Yes,’ I lied.
‘Better be good, nerd. What is it?’
‘You’ll see.’
Miss Beech was wearing all black today, which made her look even more like a witch. A drip still hung from the end of her nose. I hoped she wasn’t intending to come around and mark our work. It’d be just my luck for her snotty dribble to splat on me.
Before we’d had a chance to sit down at our tables, Miss Beech announced we would start with the maths test. My stomach did a double somersault. Brody gave me a kick under the table as I got my pencils out. I was determined not to look at him.
‘Hey, Milly – got a stiff neck today?’ he said, in a voice just loud enough for the others at nearby tables to hear.
Some of them laughed and Miss Beech looked over and scowled. ‘Get your pencils out for the maths test without talking,’ she fired. ‘And, Ish, there’s to be no talking during the test. Is that understood? Anyone who talks gets zero because I’ll assume they’re cheating. They’ll have a lot of explaining to do to their parents.’
Why was she picking on me? It was going to be a long day.
The maths test was easy, and it was hard to make deliberate mistakes. It was on fractions, which I was good at. Last year I’d had trouble with them, and Dad had spent ages with me, going over ways to work them out.
If only Dad were here now.
I looked at my watch for about the hundredth time. The morning dragged so slowly it felt like Miss Beech had cast a spell on the clock.
‘Hey, nerd – got spare knickers in your lunchbox?’ Brody sneered behind his hand.
‘Shut up, airhead.’
‘Mind your language, frilly boy. Wouldn’t want something nasty to happen to that bit of junk of yours, now would you?’
Brody kept saying mean things to me all morning whenever he thought Miss Beech wasn’t looking. I still wouldn’t look at him, and I’d noticed the others sitting nearby had stopped paying attention to what he said, which I could tell really annoyed him.
The pile of maths tests sat on the end of Miss Beech’s desk. Every time I glanced at them, I felt a fresh surge of dread. I hadn’t been able to eat anything at snack time and now there were only minutes to go till the lunch bell. My heart was beginning to beat like crazy. Brody’s test had been collected last of all – he’d been given a couple of extra minutes to finish. At least this meant I wouldn’t have to sort through the whole pile to find it. I wouldn’t have to go looking for the tests either.
I was packing up, ready for the lunch break, when Brody gave me another kick under the table.
‘Any wrong answers, no rod?’ Brody’s whole face smirked as he spoke.
I felt like punching him.
‘Don’t forget, everyone,’ Miss Beech announced, ‘the teachers versus students basketball match will take place on the lower courts, so anyone playing should go and get changed immediately.’
The lunch bell went. Miss Beech picked up the maths tests, then walked into the office at the back of the classroom. I tried to see what she was doing with them, but too many people were in the way. She came out again and closed the door behind her. She picked up a bunch of keys from her desk and, for an awful moment, I thought she was going to lock it.
Suddenly, I had a bright idea. I scrambled across the room, bumping into two girls as they headed out to the corridor. ‘Miss Beech!’ I called, as I made it between her and her office door. ‘I’m not that keen on basketball, so I was wondering if I could stay inside to eat my lunch and then do my homework on the school computer? My Gran’s only got an old typewriter.’
‘Well, that’s very noble of you, Ish, but I’m afraid the school rules don’t allow students to be in classrooms without a teacher present. And I’m umpiring the basketball match,’ said Miss Beech, and put the keys in her pocket. ‘Just write your story out by hand and you can type it up on the computer in your free time tomorrow.’ She looked at her watch and gave my shoulder a little nudge in the direction of the corridor. ‘Right – off you go, then.’
She picked up her lunch from her desk and headed off towards the staff room without locking either door. Finally, a bit of luck!
I fiddled around in my bag, pretending to get my lunch out. When the corridor was clear, I slipped back into the classroom and closed the door. This was going to be easy. My luck had changed. Everyone was out on the basketball court.
I opened the door into Miss Beech’s office and quickly closed it behind me. I looked around for the tests. It was dark in the office and I didn’t want to put the light on to draw attention to myself. I couldn’t see the tests anywhere. Drat it! Where were they?
Then I spotted the filing cabinet in the corner. It had four drawers, just like Dad’s. Easy! I’d filed stuff for him before, heaps of times. Lucky for me the key was in the keyhole!
Everything in the top drawer seemed to be about sport. I carefully closed it, lifting as I pushed to stop the metal creaking. I held my breath and pulled gently on the second drawer. Thankfully, it slid out smoothly. Nothing to do with maths tests in this drawer either.
I slid out the third drawer. This one looked more promising: mid-year reports, spelling-level sheets, parent-teacher interviews, spelling tests – maths tests! I yanked out the folder and opened it on the little table beside the filing cabinet.
There were three bundles of papers and the bottom one contained the tests we’d done this morning. Yes!
Brody’s paper was on the top, just as I’d expected. I was about to look at it, when the main classroom door opened.
I frantically looked around for somewhere to hide. Towards the back of the room was a large cardboard box full of some kind of old clothes – it was hard to tell exactly what they were without the light on. I could hear Miss Beech’s voice getting closer as she spoke to someone.
Not daring to close the drawer, I hopped in the box, still clutching the pile of maths tests, and arranged the clothes over the top of my head.
The door opened and the light flickered on.
‘That’s odd,’ said Miss Beech, slamming the drawer shut, ‘I could have sworn I closed that.’
‘Are you sure you’ve got one in my size, Mildred?’ asked a man’s voice. ‘I’m not exactly small around the middle these days. Betty keeps nagging me to go on a diet.’
‘Stop worrying, Ken. I’ve got basketball tops for all sizes – midgets through to giants. They’re all in this box here.’
Chapter 15
I could hardly breathe. I wanted to shrink and become a little ant at the bottom of the box. And stay an ant, just crawling around in the dirt all day, so I never had to deal with Miss Beech or Brody Callahan ever again.
Two sets of footsteps came closer to the box. I was trapped. Any moment now I was going to get sprung and there was nothing I could do. I closed my eyes and held my breath.
Then I sneezed.
‘What the –?’ Miss Beech’s voice exclaimed.
I heard her shuffling backwards.
‘Where did that come from?’ Ken asked.
They went quiet.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I suddenly stood up, just like a jack-in-the-box. Miss Beech screamed and Ken yelled out as he clamped his hands to his chest.
‘Oh my God, it’s the new boy!’ squealed Miss Beech. ‘What in heaven’s name – Ken, are you okay?’
‘Yes – just,’ Ken gasped. ‘The boy gave me one helluva fright.’
I stood there with a basketball top draped over my head, still clutching the maths tests.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Beech,’ I said, not knowing what else to say.
‘Sorry! You’re sorry?’ yelled Miss Beech. Her eyes caught sight of the maths papers in my hand. ‘What have you got there?’
‘Um –’
‘Give me those! How dare you break into my office and rifle through my personal files!’
‘I didn’t break in, Miss Beech. It wasn’t locked,’ I protested.
Miss Beech’s face turned even more crimson than it already was. ‘Don’t you be smart with me, young man,’ she fired back, shuffling through the tests in her hand. ‘It’s pretty clear to me what you were doing in here.’ She pulled out my test, and after placing the others on the table beside her, ripped my page in two, adding, ‘This is what happens to cheats.’
A little gasp escaped from my mouth.
‘And to think I believed all that garbage about you wanting to do your homework at lunchtime,’ continued Miss Beech. ‘All the while you were planning to come in here and cheat on your maths test by copying someone else’s answers.’
Ken had propped himself up on the table and was still rubbing his chest. His eyes were kind. I wished Miss Beech would go away so I could explain everything to him.
‘I have a basketball match to umpire. Go and sit outside Mr Stilt’s office,’ ordered Miss Beech. ‘We’ll deal with you later.’
I thumped down on the bench outside Mr Stilt’s office. A cheer went up from the direction of the basketball courts. I stared at his name on the office door. I hated him and everyone else.
I’d had enough.
I ran down the corridor, out the front entrance and down the long driveway without looking back. I didn’t care who saw me. I just wanted to get out of this prison as fast as I could.
By the time I got to Gran’s, I was wheezing and my throat hurt every time I took a breath. I turned the handle on Gran’s front door, but it didn’t move.
Gran never locked her front door. I knocked and waited, puffing and panting, wishing she’d hurry up. I peered in through the stained-glass window at the side of the door, looking for movement down the hallway, expecting the sound of Gran’s footsteps any second. My heart sank. The only thing I heard was a magpie singing out on the front lawn.
I went round the side of the house. Gran’s old Hillman wasn’t parked in its usual spot. This was really odd. She hardly ever drove anywhere during the week.
I’d stopped puffing, but my throat hurt from breathing in the cold air. Where was Gran? The back door wasn’t locked. Good! I went in and yelled out, then checked in all the rooms. There was no sign of her. I went into my room and flopped onto my bed, then stuffed my face into my pillow. It was better than looking at Lucky’s empty bed. Then I must have fallen asleep.
I woke with a start. For a moment I thought I was in my bedroom back at home. Through the window one of the boughs of the peppercorn tree nodded up and down in the breeze, and I remembered where I was.
I thought about Lucky and wondered where he was and if he was still alive. He’d had so many close calls in his life. My journal was sitting on the end of the bed, so I finished off a poem I’d started a few days ago.
Day 10 - Unexpected Delivery
It’s the man who delivered our new freezer on Friday
standing at our front door
he’s holding my dog in his arms
Lucky tries to wag his tail
it only does one flick
mum is crying
dad is calling the vet
today is Tuesday
no one saw Lucky climb in
that van could have been
a coffin
So far, Lucky had always lived up to his name. But what if he’d finally used up all his luck? What if he was dead? I tried not to think about it. If only he could find a way to come back to me.
I closed the journal and realised this would be a good opportunity to sneak a look at Molly’s tarot cards. Maybe they’d help me find Lucky. I also realised I was hungry. I fished around in the pantry, found some dry biscuits and poured myself a glass of milk.
I felt a bit guilty sneaking into Molly’s room, but the cards might give me a clue. Molly was always either up in the peppercorn tree with her book or in her room with the tarot cards. One day her door wasn’t quite closed and I saw her with the cards all spread out on the floor, in a circle around her. She had the light off and the room lit with candles. If Gran had seen the candles, she’d have had a fit. She’d banned Molly from candles when one dripped wax all over her fake Persian rug.
Mum gave Molly the cards before she set off for Mongolia. Gran thought they were silly and a complete waste of time. She’d said she didn’t know what had gotten into Mum lately – all this palm reading and lighting candles and incense. It was a miracle Mum hadn’t burned the house down.
Gran told Mum straight out that a set of tarot cards was a totally inappropriate gift for a fifteen-year-old. Mum told Gran to mind her own business and Molly to keep the cards close to her heart.
Molly wouldn’t be home for at least an hour.
The cards were on the dressing table, on a pile of Molly’s books. They were bigger than normal playing cards, and each one had some writing and a brightly coloured picture. I so hoped they’d show me where to find Lucky.
I laid them face down across Molly’s bed and closed my eyes. I twirled my finger in the air, then jabbed at one of the cards. I held it for a while before turning it over. It was a picture of three fish, intertwined. At the bottom of the card was the word ‘affection’.
They reminded me of the humungous fish I’d caught the day I’d seen the ghost at the cemetery. The day I couldn’t even remember catching them or bringing them home.
And the fish reminded me of the river and Grandpa. The word affection summed up everything about him. He was so much fun to be with. Whenever I was with him, I felt important. He made me feel like I could do anything if I tried hard enough.
That’s what the river reminded me of – Grandpa and feeling important.
I couldn’t stop looking at the card. Out of all the cards, I’d picked this one. Amazing!
I felt goose bumps break out all over me. The cards were telling me Grandpa would help me find Lucky. The ghost had to be Grandpa!
I needed some place to think. Climbing the pepper-corn tree in the backyard was my first choice. You had to take a bit of a run at it and jump up to reach the first branch, then scramble up the trunk with your feet. Once you’d pulled yourself up onto it, there were lots of branches that were easy to get to and you could climb right to the top. That’s where I sat to wait for Gran, with my journal stuffed inside my jacket and a pen in my pocket.
It was great to have the tree to myself.
I crushed a small clump of leaves between my fingers and breathed in the smell. When Grandpa took me fishing, we always grabbed a handful of peppercorn leaves from the tree in the back lane, on our way down to the river. Grandpa reckoned it stopped your hands from smelling fishy. I looked down at the crushed leaves in my palm and wondered if I’d ever get Grandpa’s rod back. And, funnily enough, I had a feeling the rod would somehow help me get Lucky back.
Just as I was about to climb to a different spot in the tree, I heard a cough below me. Thinking it was Gran, I opened my mouth to yell out hello, but snapped it shut the instant I saw who it was.
What on earth was Brody Callahan doing in my yard – with my fishing rod? Why wasn’t he at school? He peered cautiously in through each window, as if he didn’t want to be seen. He even went round to the back door and knocked loudly, then ran and hid behind the peppercorn tree. I had a perfect view of the top of his head. I held my breath and prayed I wouldn’t sneeze.
After a little while, Brody knocked at the door, then hid behind the peppercorn tree again. What was he going to do? Burgle Gran’s house?
Brody opened the back door and slipped inside. What was he doing inside our house? Maybe he was going to return the fishing rod? I didn’t know what to do. But he cam
e out again, still with the fishing rod. He looked around for something and started to brush away dead branches and some junk that had collected behind Gran’s rose garden at the back of the yard. What was he up to?
I carefully climbed to the other side of the tree to get a better view. A grating noise in the yard made me jump, and I gasped, nearly slipping off my branch. I made a wild grab at a clump of leaves just above my head and they pulled off in my hand, leaving behind a twiggy fishbone that danced up and down, threatening to give away my hiding place.
Luckily, Brody was too busy to notice. He tugged at something heavy, then shifted his position to get a better grip, giving me a clear view of what seemed to be a large circular metal plate with handles at each side.
Whatever it was suddenly came away. Brody fell backwards, grunting as he did. I could see the metal plate had covered a circle of bricks. When Brody got to his feet and peered down into the middle of them, I realised he’d uncovered the old well.
Brody picked up my fishing rod then dropped it down. He looked very pleased with himself as he rubbed his hands together, before starting to pull the cover back on.
I wasn’t going to let him just walk away. I’d had enough of Brody Callahan wrecking my life. I reached around behind me to grab a branch so I could lower myself down quickly, before Brody had a chance to get away. As I did, a scream came from the direction of the well. I looked back to see that several of the bricks were missing from around the top.
Where was Brody?
Chapter 16
I raced over to the well and peered down. It was like looking at the sky on a moonless night. Nothing but black. ‘Brody!’ I yelled, ‘Brody, are you okay?’
There wasn’t even a whimper.
‘Brody!’ I thought he must be dead. Or unconscious. Maybe he was under water? But then I remembered the old well had gone dry and wouldn’t have any water in it. So he’d have landed on – what? I felt sick.
‘Brody!’
There was still no answer. I tugged at the lid, trying to get it all the way off so I could have a better look inside. It was much heavier than I expected. Brody was very strong to have moved it at all. Even though I pulled so hard that it felt like my arms would rip out of their sockets, I couldn’t budge it.
Dog Gone Page 6
