One end of the rope was still attached to Lucky’s collar, and trailed after him as he charged out the door. I dived and just caught hold of the end of it when the back door banged again.
Vinny swung his shotgun up to the stars and blasted.
Then he aimed at me. ‘This is what happens to little turds like you who try to steal my dog!’
At that moment Lucky took a flying leap at Vinny. The rope tore out of my hand. The shotgun went off again, echoing through the night, like a thunderclap. There was a thud as the gun fell to the ground, and a cry of pain from Vinny.
Panic-stricken, I looked around for Molly.
She was frozen to the spot, holding the fishing rod as if it was a sword. Miraculously, no one had been hit. Lucky had sunk his teeth into Vinny’s arm and was growling ferociously at him.
I scrambled to my feet. Suddenly, I had an idea. ‘Molly – the fishing rod. Give it to me!’ I yanked it away from her and it was already alive. It was hot in my hands.
I swung the fishing rod towards Vinny. It whipped and writhed like an angry snake. I could feel the energy build up like a force-field around me.
Then it happened. The ghost, Grandpa, streamed out from the end of the fishing rod. It was spectacular. The whole yard lit up in bright green, and my Grandpa, swirling and shimmering, surged towards Vinny.
It seemed like Vinny couldn’t move a muscle, except for the terror filling his eyes through the green glow.
Lucky stopped growling. For a moment there was a strange silence, as if all the clocks in the world had stopped ticking.
An instant later we heard the car.
I grabbed Lucky’s rope and the three of us ran like frightened turkeys around to the front of the house. As we rounded the corner, we saw headlights sweep up the driveway.
‘Did you phone for help?’ I puffed, beside Molly.
‘I rang Brody, but his dad answered. They were already on their way. Mr Ironclad’s driving.’
Lucky started going crazy, barking and pulling on the rope so hard, I could hardly hold him. It cut into my hand and before I knew what had happened, he’d pulled away from me and was bounding towards the car.
‘Lucky!’ He was heading straight into the headlights, the rope trailing behind him. I buried my head in my arms and waited for the bump.
The car tyres slid on the gravel – then silence.
I couldn’t bear to look up.
Mr Ironclad’s voice boomed into the night. ‘Hop in, Lucky. Come on, kids!’
I stared out the window and watched the dark shapes of trees and fences rush past. Mr Ironclad’s car was an old Ford Fairlane and smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Lucky lay on the back seat, between Molly and me, with his head on my lap. How he didn’t get run over, I’ll never know. Gran was spot on when she’d said he had the right name.
Brody and his dad had waited at the front gate for the police to arrive. They were going to help get Vinny into hospital, to sort out his medication.
It was quiet in the car now, except for the occasional burst of conversation. I was in my own world, listening to the sound of Lucky’s breathing and enjoying the weight of his head on my leg. I stroked his bony rib cage and wondered if Vinny had fed him at all. I rested my head on the back of the seat and sighed. It felt good to be safe.
We’d cop it in the ear from Gran when we got home, but I didn’t care. I had Lucky back and that was all that mattered.
After we’d told Mr Ironclad all about Vinny and how he’d nearly killed me and Lucky, I suddenly felt drained of all my energy. But I wasn’t sleepy – my brain buzzed. Lucky was amazing. A little movie of him leaping at Vinny and knocking the shotgun out of his hands played over in my mind. Any one of us could have been shot. I patted Lucky to let him know he was safe and loved. He deserved a medal for bravery. Another one.
I wrote the poem in my head.
A Whole Fortnight! - Award Ceremony
I’m in the front row
with my family
Mum, Dad, Gran, Molly and Lucky
a man makes a speech
about dogs who are brave
and clever
like Lucky
soon I will walk him
onto the stage
the boy who pushed Gran over
and stole her handbag
never had a chance
I thought about Mum and wondered when she’d be home. We’d heard she was making good progress. I couldn’t wait to tell her we’d found Lucky. We’d have so much to talk about. What stories would she have about Mongolia?
Molly suddenly poked me in the arm. ‘I can’t stop thinking about that ghost,’ she whispered. ‘Was that for real? I mean a ghost! But – like – if it hadn’t been for the ghost –’
‘Yeah, I don’t like to think about it,’ I whispered back. ‘Lucky wouldn’t be here now, that’s for sure.’
‘I’ve been thinking,’ whispered Molly, so softly I could hardly hear over the hum of the tyres on the road, ‘do you think it was Grandpa? It looked like Grandpa!’
‘I think it was, Molly. I’m sure it was Grandpa. How cool is that?’
‘And what’s with your fishing rod? When Vinny hung up and went outside, I was hunting through your bag to see if you had anything to use as a weapon, and the rod – like – jumped into my hand! It pulled me towards the shed! Freaky as! Then that ghost … Grandpa … appeared out of it – just like in Aladdin! I mean, this is so like a weird dream …’
It did feel like a dream. A weird and scary one.
Chapter 30
‘What in heaven’s name were you thinking?’ Gran had worked herself up into one of her meanpants frenzies. She put my cornflakes in front of me and poured orange juice over them instead of milk, splashing some over the side. Her face was the same colour as the tomatoes lined up on the window ledge. ‘You could have been killed last night, both of you!’
‘But we weren’t, Gran. And we saved Lucky.’ I put a spoonful of orange-flavoured cornflakes into my mouth. Disgusting. Lucky was sitting next to my chair watching me, with his head on one side, as if he understood what Gran had done.
‘You’re making a big deal over nothing, Gran,’ added Molly. ‘It wasn’t like we even got hurt or anything. You should be happy we’re safe. I don’t even know why you’re mad at us.’
Gran flapped around the kitchen like an angry pelican. ‘And you, Molly, should have known better!’ Gran wiped her forehead with her apron and poured some of the orange juice into her tea. ‘A girl your age should have more sense. You should have stopped Ish from getting on that bus in the first place!’
I watched as Gran brought the cup up to her mouth and took a sip of her orange juice-flavoured tea. The expression of amazement and disgust on her face was the best. I let out a huge howl of laughter and sprayed cornflakes all over the table.
Gran looked down at her cup, then over at me. I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. She was about to say something, when Lucky started barking and the doorbell rang. ‘Better get that, Ish. We’ll finish this conversation later.’
Lucky’s tail was wagging so much that I was expecting to find Mr Ironclad when I opened the door. However, it was Brody, on his crutches, and his dad. In the daylight I was surprised to see he looked a bit like Vinny, except shorter, thinner and cleaner.
‘Hi Ish,’ said Brody.
Lucky pushed past me and jumped on Brody, nearly taking out one of his crutches. I stood with my mouth open. Lucky never did that to strangers.
‘We just called in to apologise about the dog,’ said Brody’s dad. ‘Vinny told me he’d picked up a stray, but it never occurred to me he was yours. I’ve been walking around with me eyes closed lately.’
‘No worries,’ I said. ‘He’s safe, that’s the main thing.’
‘Sorry you had such a rough time with my brother. We’re off to visit him in hospital. Henry’s coming, too. Thinks he can get him interested in the bowling club.’ Brody’s dad nodded towards the road, wher
e Mr Ironclad was sitting in his car.
He waved when he saw me.
Gran appeared at the door and put her arm around me. ‘Won’t you come in, Cameron? Hello, Brody. How’s the leg? Lucky, get off poor Brody!’
‘It’s okay,’ said Brody, ‘thanks, Mrs Douglas.’
Lucky was nudging Brody’s leg and he was trying not to overbalance.
Brody’s dad smiled. ‘No, Maggie, we just called around to say sorry to Ish about his dog. Is Molly okay? Vinny must’ve given the kids quite a scare. I feel a bit responsible – haven’t kept a close enough eye on him lately. Been full of me own troubles. Gave me a bit of a wake-up call, but.’
‘It all takes time, Cam.’ Gran looked at Brody like she was going to say something, but changed her mind.
Brody’s dad seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I’ve decided to cut down my work hours. Should get to see a few more of Brody’s footy matches now, too. Anyhow, better not keep Henry waiting.’
I watched Brody and his dad climb into Mr Ironclad’s car and drive off.
‘Vinny will be all right when he gets on track with his medication,’ said Gran. ‘His brother will get it sorted. Vinny’s a different person when he’s on it.’ She paused and looked down her front path. ‘The postman should have been by now. See if there are any letters, will you, love?’
‘Okay.’
‘Oh, and Ish, in all the excitement, I forgot to tell you some news. There was a message on the answering machine last night. Mum’s coming home.’
‘Oh, wow! That’s great news.’ I jumped up and down and did a little dance. ‘When?’
‘Depends on the flight availability, but it could be in the next few days.’
‘So soon? Will she stay here until she’s completely better, Gran?’
‘Of course, love. As long as she wants.’ Gran went inside and called Lucky in with her.
So much had happened. I looked out at the row of houses along Gran’s street. The postman was way off in the distance. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the ghost – about Grandpa. I’d tried to make him appear out of my fishing rod when I’d had a minute on my own. I’d tried calling him to come and talk to me. But it seemed he only appeared when he wanted to – or when I needed him. Just the same, it felt good to have a ghost for a friend.
The front door banged again and Molly stepped out onto the porch. ‘What was all that about? Gran said Mr Ironclad was driving Brody and his dad to the hospital.’
‘Yeah, Mr Ironclad reckons joining the bowling club might give Vinny an interest.’
Molly shrugged.
Something else had been bugging me, but I didn’t know if Molly would want to talk about it. ‘Molly?’
‘What?’
‘When you found us in the well –’
‘Yeah, what about it?’
‘We thought we heard crying.’
‘So what?’
‘Was it you?’
‘Might’ve been.’
‘I just wondered what you were crying about – that’s all.’
Molly looked at me and grinned. ‘I thought you’d run away because of me. Then the tarot cards told me you were in danger. I thought it’d be my fault if something happened to you.’
‘Thanks for coming with me to Vinny’s, Mol.’
Molly just shrugged again.
‘Hey, did Gran tell you about Mum?’
‘Yeah, great news. I’ve missed her.’ Molly smiled as she said the words.
I liked it when she smiled. ‘Me, too. Can’t wait to see her.’
‘Look,’ said Molly, ‘there’s the postman.’
I looked up to see the postman standing at the letterbox, leaning against his bike. He held out a postcard. ‘Just one today. Looks like it’s for you two.’
I walked down and took it from him and showed it to Molly. The picture on the front was the Sydney Harbour Bridge. We turned it over and read:
Hi Molly and Ish,
Sorry, I haven’t made enough time for you.
How about we do the bridge climb next holidays?
Love
Dad
Chapter 31
The river sparkled this morning. Little stars of light reflected off the water as it flowed past my log. The winter sun seemed warmer than usual and I could feel it soaking into me as I watched my line, waiting for a bite. Lucky was sniffing around in the bushes. I couldn’t believe Mum would be arriving tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to see her. There was so much to talk about.
My fishing rod suddenly jolted and I knew I’d caught something big. Lucky saw it too, and climbed up onto the log next to me. ‘What have we got here, boy? Wow, it’s a whopper!’ The fish was tugging so hard, I thought I’d either get pulled off the log or the line would break. Lucky got excited and started barking, jumping off the log and running around to the water’s edge and back onto the log again.
I tried reeling it in, but it was no good. The fish was way too powerful for me. It was zigzagging all over the place. A couple of times it jumped right out of the water and, when I saw it, I nearly died. It was even bigger than the ones I carried back to Gran’s that morning I’d seen the ghost!
You’d have to be superhuman to reel this one in. I couldn’t figure out why the line hadn’t snapped, or the rod for that matter. But this was no ordinary rod. Suddenly, the reel started turning by itself and the fish, thrashing about wildly, zoomed towards me like a speedboat.
‘Whoa!’ a voice cried out, behind me.
I turned to see Brody standing there on his crutches. In all the ruckus, I hadn’t heard him arrive. ‘Hi, Brody.’
‘That rod really is magic! Whatever you’ve caught, it’s a mutant!’
Lucky ran straight to Brody and nuzzled into his leg. He made the kind of whiny sound that meant I’m pleased to see you.
Grandpa’s fishing rod was in overdrive. The reel spun so fast it was a blur. It was all I could do to hold onto the handle without dropping it. The fish was arching up out of the water, trying desperately to get away. I tried to reach for Gran’s big nappy bucket and the net.
‘Want a hand with that?’
I nodded. ‘Can you push the net and bucket a bit closer?’
Brody nudged the bucket with his crutch so I could reach it from the log. Just as I was about to net the fish, it flung itself up into the air in one last attempt to get away. Then, unbelievably, the fishing rod suddenly whipped around and bopped it on the head! The fish was so stunned it dangled on the line, and I slipped the net underneath and hauled it out of the water and into the bucket. It weighed a tonne.
‘I reckon that’s about four times the size of a normal redfin,’ said Brody. ‘Unreal.’
We packed up as fast as we could, then headed back along the track with me half carrying, half dragging the bucket. Every now and again, the giant redfin flipped its tail back and forth in a half-hearted effort to escape. But I was determined I wasn’t going to let this one go.
Lucky kept us entertained. He was fixated on the fish. If it moved, he barked, as if to let us know it might escape. He drove us crazy by constantly circling the bucket, and at one stage nearly got tangled up in Brody’s crutches.
‘You wanna a rest?’ asked Brody, when we got to the back gate of the cemetery. ‘That fish must be heavy as.’
‘Good idea,’ I said, dumping the bucket down next to a gravestone that was overgrown with weeds.
Brody rested his crutches up against it and sat on a block of stone. ‘Sucks how nobody looks after these graves anymore. Dad wouldn’t let my mum’s get like this.’
‘Is your mum buried here?’ It was a pretty stupid question. There was only one cemetery in Selview.
‘Yep. What about your Grandpa? S’pose he is.’
‘Yeah. His grave’s over on the side. Where’s your Mum’s?’
‘I think it’s down that side somewhere, too.’
‘Do you ever go and visit her … like, I mean … look at your mum’s grave?’
‘Nu
p.’ Brody reached down and pulled up one of the weeds from the grave he was sitting next to. ‘Dad goes all the time. He takes flowers, but I think it just makes him sadder. I thought about going once.’
‘Yeah?’ I didn’t know what to say.
‘Do you wanna show me your Grandpa’s?’
‘Okay. If you want.’
I passed Brody his crutches and picked up the bucket. Lucky hadn’t taken his eyes off the fish the whole time. He trotted alongside it as we headed over to where Grandpa’s grave was. It still looked new and shiny compared to the others around it.
‘What’s it say?’ asked Brody. ‘That fancy writing makes it hard to read.’
‘In my beginning is my end … in my end is my beginning.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Brody ran his finger along the gold lettering.
‘It’s what was on T.S. Eliot’s gravestone. He was a famous poet. My Grandpa was a poet, too. I don’t exactly know what it means.
‘Sounds deep.’
‘Wanna find your mum’s?’
‘Not sure.’
‘You said it was around here, right?’
‘Yeah. It’ll have flowers. Dad came here yesterday, after seeing Vinny.’
I looked at the gravestone a bit further up from Grandpa’s. It was newish looking and had a bunch of bright yellow roses in a vase that had mesh on the top. The stone was smooth and black with white writing. I looked at the dates and worked out the person had only been thirty-six when they died.
Then I read the name. ‘Brody, was your mum’s name Alison?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Your Mum’s grave isn’t very far from Grandpa’s.’
‘You found it?’
Brody suddenly went pale and for a minute I thought he was going to faint.
I was glad he had his crutches to lean on. I added, ‘It’s sort of nice to think your mum and my Grandpa are near each other.’
Brody shuffled over to stand in front of his mum’s grave.
Lucky, as if he knew what was going on, gave up guarding the fish, which by now had stopped wriggling. He plonked himself down next to Brody, and leaned on his leg.
For a long time, Brody didn’t speak as he gazed at the headstone. He seemed to be reading it over and over.
Dog Gone Page 12
