Dog Gone

by Carole Poustie

  4. Ask Gran to get Brody around to help her with some jobs, so he feels important.

  5. Get Gran to show me how to make chocolate fudge balls.

  Brody suddenly spoke, making me jump. ‘Ish, you awake?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘What do you reckon the time is?’

  ‘Dunno. Middle of the night. How’s your leg?’

  ‘You don’t want to know. I’m freeee-zing,’ said Brody, his teeth chattering.

  He moaned again, and I wished I could do something to help him.

  ‘No one’s going to find us down here, are they? We’re gonna die, for sure.’ Brody took in a deep breath, then yelled, ‘Help! Is anyone there? Heeeeelp!’

  ‘We’ll yell out again in the morning,’ I said, trying to sound confident. ‘Someone is bound to hear us in the morning.’ I had to think of something to keep our minds off how cold and uncomfortable we were, and off Brody’s painful leg.

  ‘Was your mum nice?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, she was.’

  ‘What was she like?’

  ‘I thought she was pretty, but she used to worry that she was fat. She wasn’t that fat.’

  ‘You must miss her a lot,’ I said, trying to picture a female version of Brody.

  ‘It’s not fair. I have to pack my own lunch and Dad doesn’t even remember which days I have footy training.’

  ‘Did your Mum ever make you laugh?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Brody. His teeth were chattering and I could hear him rubbing his arms to keep warm. ‘She’d cackle at anything – except when she got really sick with the cancer.’

  This was tricky. I wanted to keep Brody’s spirits up. ‘My mum makes me laugh, too. She has me in fits sometimes. I remember coming home from school one day and I could hear music from the other end of our street. I went around to the back door and when I passed the kitchen window, I saw her. She was dancing around the island bench, twirling, kicking her legs up in the air and waving her arms all around. It was a hoot. She was totally into it.’

  ‘She sounds crazy.’

  ‘Yeah. She is crazy sometimes. She saw me at the window, danced her way to the door and let me in. She grabbed both my hands and practically yanked me off my feet into the middle of the kitchen floor. I managed to ditch my bag and kick it over by the fridge then she let go of one hand to do a twirl. I’ll never forget that day. The music was so loud it nearly burst my eardrums. Mum swung me round and round and we did a sort of tango move, like you see on TV. We laughed so much, my sides ached and I could hardly stand up.’

  ‘She sounds really crazy. No wonder you’re such a freak.’

  I wasn’t sure whether Brody was joking or being serious.

  ‘What about your dad – do you miss him?’ asked Brody.

  ‘Yeah, heaps. It sucks – him living in Sydney.’ I’d thought about Dad while Brody had been asleep. I wondered if he was happy living in Sydney and whether he missed me as much as I missed him. I wondered whether he’d like me to come and live with him. I could make up for all the things I’d done wrong when he lived with Mum and Molly and me. Maybe I could even get him to come and live back with us in Melbourne.

  Then I thought of Brody’s dad. ‘I bet your dad misses your mum a lot,’ I said.

  Brody let out a sigh. ‘Sometimes Dad gets up in the middle of the night and sits at the kitchen table, staring out the window. I’ve seen him. I had to pee one night, and there he was – staring into the night. I don’t know what he stares at. I’ve seen him, just sitting for hours, staring out at nothing.’

  I felt sorry for Brody and his dad. It must be awful to have one of your parents die. Even though I didn’t see my dad as often as I wanted, at least he was still alive.

  ‘Mum gave me this joke book,’ I said, trying to remember some of the jokes. They’d help us pass the time and maybe cheer us both up. ‘What happens if you cross an elephant with a bird?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You get a lot of broken telephone wires.’

  ‘Ha, ha … not.’

  ‘What about this one – what is a cat’s favourite song?’

  ‘Dunno. What?’

  ‘Three blind mice.’

  ‘These jokes are the worst ones in the book, right? Does it have any that are actually funny?’

  ‘Okay, you’ll like this one. What’s evil and ugly and goes up and down all day?’

  ‘This’d better be good.’

  ‘A witch stuck in a lift.’

  Brody groaned. ‘What did I do to deserve being stuck down a well with you?’

  I remembered the rod. ‘Where’s my fishing rod?’ I asked, giving Brody a little nudge.

  ‘Yes – that’s it!’ exclaimed Brody, making me jump. ‘Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if that rod’s got powers, maybe we can use it like a kind of magic wand,’ said Brody. ‘Except I don’t know where it is. You couldn’t see a cow’s fart down here, even if it was on fire.’

  ‘Didn’t you say you saw it when the ghost appeared? What happened to it after that?’

  ‘I dunno,’ said Brody, ‘I was too spooked to keep my eye on it. Then you almost landed on my head.’

  ‘Well, we can feel around for it,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah – and maybe we’ll find a few of your spider mates while we’re at it,’ added Brody.

  I could have punched him. I’d forgotten about the spiders till now.

  But his idea was worth the risk. We felt around for ages, wedging our hands down between the mattress and the cold, rough walls. Our luck was out, though, and I felt my heart sink to the bottom of the well, where Grandpa’s fishing rod was probably lying, wedged in between all the junk.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Shhh,’ said Brody, just as I was getting to a good bit in one of my jokes.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What was that? Did you hear that?’ Brody punched me on the arm to get my attention.

  ‘Hear what?’ I looked up. I wasn’t sure whether my eyes were playing tricks on me, or whether I could make out a tinge of pink at the top of the well. Maybe the sun was coming up.

  ‘Shhh – there it is again,’ said Brody.

  ‘I can’t hear anything,’ I said after a while. ‘You must be imagining things.’

  ‘Shut up,’ growled Brody. ‘I heard something. I know I did.’

  I strained my ears and listened again. Then I heard it. Brody was right. It was like a low moaning sound, way off in the distance. Every so often it would stop and then start up again.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Brody.

  There was something familiar about it. I’d heard that sound before.

  ‘It sounds like someone crying,’ said Brody.

  As soon as he said it, I knew. ‘That’s Molly!’ I screamed.

  Together we yelled at the tops of our voices, till our ears rang and our throats hurt. Then we listened, keeping our eyes glued to the top of the well. Whether it was a hint of light from the sunrise, or a surge of fresh hope that someone might find us, I didn’t know, but suddenly the darkness in the well didn’t seem so black.

  The crying stopped. We held our breath, listening for the smallest sound, watching for the tiniest movement. But there was nothing.

  After several minutes we tried another round of yelling, then listened again. My neck felt uncomfortable from being tipped back at such an extreme angle, but I didn’t dare look away from the small circle of light at the top, in case I missed something.

  Just when I thought I’d have to look down for a minute to stretch it out, a shadow passed across the entrance to the well. ‘Ish, is that you?’

  I never thought I’d be so happy to hear my sister’s voice. ‘Molly – yes, it’s me! And Brody’s down here, too!

  ‘Are you all right?’ Molly yelled back.

  ‘I’m okay, but Brody’s hurt his leg.’

  ‘Stay there – I’m going to get help.’ A second later, her si
lhouette had disappeared.

  ‘Der. Stay here? Where does she think we’re going?’ said Brody. ‘She’s really smart, your sister.’

  ‘Shut it – she’s getting help, isn’t she?’ I gave Brody a shove that must have jerked his leg. He yelled out in pain, then punched me hard on the arm, swearing. I thought for a moment he was going to punch me, but Molly was back, yelling down at us again.

  ‘They’re calling the fire brigade and the ambulance now. Gran’s getting you some food and –’

  ‘Ish! Are you okay, mate?’

  Someone else had joined Molly and was looking down at us. And the voice –

  ‘Dad?’ I looked up, straining to see him.

  ‘Yes, mate, it’s me.’

  ‘Dad – is it really you?’ Tears poured down my cheeks and I squinted through them to try and make out his shape. I couldn’t believe it was really him – and I was glad Brody couldn’t see me in the dark.

  ‘We’ll have you out of there in no time, boys. Ish – you sure you’re all right? You didn’t hurt yourself falling?’ Dad’s voice sounded so concerned as it echoed down the sides of the well.

  ‘I’m not too bad, Dad – just cold.’

  ‘Brody, how bad’s your leg – is it broken?’ called Dad.

  ‘I think so – it hurts like hell,’ Brody shouted back.

  ‘Which part of your leg?’‘

  ‘It mostly hurts near my ankle.’

  ‘Hang in there, boys. Help’ll be here soon,’ called Dad again. ‘You fellas must be hungry and thirsty as heck. Gran’s making you some sandwiches to go on with. Close your eyes for a minute – I’m going to move this cover off to see if I can get some more light in. Watch out in case any dirt falls in.’

  ‘Dad, be careful,’ I yelled. ‘The bricks are loose around the top!’

  ‘Yeah – two’s company, three’s a crowd,’ muttered Brody. ‘Don’t want your old man dropping in for a visit like you did.’

  ‘Ish!’ It was Gran’s voice now. ‘I’ve got a drink for you and some food and a torch. I’ve wrapped them in a table cloth – oh, and a coat each. We’ll lower it down when your dad moves the cover. Are you all right, love?’

  ‘I’m okay, Gran.’

  ‘What about you, Brody – is your leg bleeding, love?’

  ‘No, Mrs Douglas,’ called Brody, ‘it’s just really swollen and hurts a lot.’

  The ring of light at the top of the well suddenly grew larger, and I could see another face peering down at us.

  ‘Your food parcel’s comin’ down now, lads,’ boomed a voice I recognised straight away. Mr Ironclad had joined the rescue party. ‘We’re lowerin’ it down with your Gran’s clothes line. Watch out – here it comes!’

  The bundle bumped and swung from side to side as it made its way down to us.

  Finally, we could reach it. We opened the parcel as quickly as we could without spilling the stuff everywhere. I found a torch and shone it down Brody’s leg as he struggled to put a coat on. One leg of his school pants was up high enough for me to see the damage.

  ‘Whoooa, no wonder it hurts so much,’ I gasped, as we both saw for the first time how badly it was broken. Brody’s leg was black and swollen, and instead of being straight and smooth, his shin bone had a huge lump in it.

  ‘It looks gross,’ said Brody. ‘Do you think I’ll have to go to hospital? I hate hospitals.’ He stuffed a sandwich in his mouth.

  There were some new noises from up above. I wasn’t sure what was going on until another voice shouted down the well at us, making us jump. The fire brigade had arrived and they were going to send down a harness. Two firemen called down what we had to do. Brody was to put it on like a life jacket. I would have to help him do up the buckles, because there was no room for a fireman down here.

  With a bit of a struggle we managed to get Brody’s arms through the right places. I watched as he spun around while the thick rope hauled him upwards. Gran’s torch cast spooky shadows on the sides of the well as I aimed the beam on the bottom of his shoes. He cried out in pain and everyone at the top shouted out encouragement.

  When he disappeared from view, I shone the torch down in front of me in a last-ditch effort to find the fishing rod and to have a closer look at where I’d spent a whole afternoon and night.

  The bottom of the well was full of old junk – empty paint tins, broken tiles, rotten fence palings. I wondered what else I was sitting on, hidden underneath the mattress. It was better not to think about it.

  The walls were cold and brown and I suddenly felt like they were closing in on me again, now that I could see how narrow the well was. It’d been easier to be here in the dark with Brody.

  I closed my eyes and started to take deep breaths to keep myself calm. After about four breaths I noticed something weird. The air temperature had changed – it was warmer. I had on one of Gran’s coats, but it wasn’t that.

  I looked up to see if the fire brigade were sending down a heater or something, but all I could see was the ring of light at the top of the well. No one was in sight, all their attention probably on Brody.

  Then, weirder still, I heard a noise. It was like a creepy sort of raspy whispering. I didn’t know if it was in my imagination or for real. I strained to hear what it was saying. I couldn’t make out words, but suddenly I had the feeling something was trying to turn – even pull – my head around to look …

  Chapter 20

  Sweat trickled down the back of my neck. My hands felt clammy and shaky. The whispering seemed to be getting louder, and echoed up and down the sides of the well, filling my head with a kind of white noise – like you hear when the radio’s not quite on the station. I wanted to put my hands over my ears to stop it. But I wanted to turn and look.

  It must be the ghost. Just like in the cemetery. It had to be. Everything was the same – the whispering, the heat, something making me want to turn around and see it. My heart was pounding so loudly, it seemed to add to the white noise and make it worse. There was nowhere to escape. And still no sign of anyone ready to rescue me at the top of the well.

  Take deep breaths, Ish. Stay calm. All will be well – all will be well … It was Mum’s voice again, in my head, over the sound of the white noise.

  It was no good, I had to turn around and see. Was it Grandpa? And if not, I figured the ghost hadn’t hurt me before. If it was going to hurt me, it could have easily done that in the cemetery. Or anywhere for that matter. It never seemed to have a problem finding me. Besides, it did stop me breaking my neck when I fell down the well.

  I looked up again. Still no sign of anyone. I took a deep breath and slowly twisted my neck around. The wall of the well seemed to swirl past. It made me feel dizzy.

  Propped up on an old piece of cardboard was Grandpa’s fishing rod. On the handle, with its black hairy legs rearing up, was the spider. It seemed bigger than ever in the narrow beam of Gran’s torch.

  I gasped and sprang back, hitting my head on a paint tin, and dropped the torch. The light went out and I felt around frantically, hoping it hadn’t fallen down beside the mattress. I willed myself to stop thinking that, in the dark, I might pick up the spider instead of the torch.

  I could hear myself wheezing in terror. I felt all around me, patting the wet mattress under my legs and Gran’s table cloth in my lap. I told myself to take deep breaths – all will be well – all will be well – then breathed a sigh of relief, as I felt the rubber of the torch handle under my fingers.

  The switch had turned off as it fell. When I clicked it on again, I was even more relieved to see a beam of light. I swung the beam around and aimed it at the rod.

  The spider had gone.

  Suddenly, the whispering got louder. Still the awful white noise; I wished someone would tune into the station properly. I wanted to make out the words, but I couldn’t.

  Louder and louder. It wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t make it. I wanted to scream, so the sound of my own voice would block it out. Not that the white noise was g
oing to hurt me. It was strange. It was as if I was about to hear the most important message once the station was tuned in, but I was trying to stop myself from hearing it.

  At the same time, all I could think of was my Grandpa. As if he was yelling at me from back in the past – sort of shouting words into my thoughts: You can do this, Ish!

  Then it happened – I saw the ghost. It seemed to seep out of the walls like a mist, then concentrate in one spot, just above the fishing rod.

  It was shaped just like Grandpa.

  ‘Ish, do you think you can buckle yourself in? The harness is coming down now, mate.’ Dad’s voice made me jump again.

  I looked up to see a circle of heads at the top of the well. It was my turn to be rescued. About time. ‘Okay, Dad,’ I yelled, noticing that the whispering had stopped. I watched the harness start to swing down to me, then turned back to look at the ghost. But it had disappeared.

  The ghost was Grandpa!

  ‘Tug on the rope when you’re ready,’ called the fireman. ‘You’re doing well, mate – won’t be long now and we’ll have you out.’

  I held the torch between my teeth so I could slip my arms into the harness and buckle it up. As soon as I clicked the last buckle into place, I swung the beam around and shone it onto the fishing rod. The spider wasn’t anywhere in sight. I sat frozen, trying to get my courage up.

  ‘How’re you going, mate? Have you got it on yet?’ called Dad.

  Grandpa’s voice whispered in my head: You can do it, you can do it.

  ‘Ish?’ called Dad again.

  I grabbed at the handle of the fishing rod and yanked on the rope. ‘Now! Pull me up now!’

  Chapter 21

  ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ said Dad, undoing the buckles on the harness and giving me a hug.

  ‘So good to see you, Dad,’ I puffed.

  ‘Likewise, Ish,’ he grinned, but still looked concerned. ‘You’re as white as a sheet, son, you’d better come over here and sit down.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Gran’s made you a hot chocolate,’ he said, pushing a mug into my hands. ‘Get that into you and you’ll feel better.’