So Grotty!

by J A Mawter

Chapter Four

  For the rest of the day Malachi moped around at home. He could not believe that things had turned out so badly. Every time he thought of Xanthe he moaned. Every time he thought of that dead bird his insides seemed to shrivel. He wondered if the pet he was buying her for her birthday was a bird and sort of hoped it wasn’t. That night the phone rang.

  ‘Malachi!’ called his mother. ‘It’s for you.’

  Must be Teb, thought Malachi reaching for the phone and speaking into it. ‘G’day you wart-faced weasel,’ he said. ‘How ya going?’

  ‘Is this Malachi Eden?’ The voice was female. Female!

  Malachi stood to attention. ‘Who wants to know?’ he asked. His heart was thudding louder than the War Torn Rats. His mouth felt suctioned dry. Malachi swallowed, but it was like swallowing sawdust.

  ‘Is this Malachi Eden?’ the voice demanded.

  ‘Who? Um…’ Malachi licked his lips. ‘Who’s asking?’

  Blee-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-p!

  ‘What the…?’ Malachi dropped the phone as a high pitched buzzer went off in his ear causing more than just discomfort. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the buzzing. Finally, he picked up the phone again. It was dead. Malachi racked his brains trying to identify the voice. It had to be Bridget. Either her, or Xanthe.

  ‘Please, God, don’t let it be Xanthe!’ Malachi said out loud as he slumped to the floor.

  ‘Girl problems?’ asked his father as he walked past.

  Malachi moaned saying, ‘I don’t know.’

  His father laughed. ‘Us males, we’re always the last to know.’

  Not long after Malachi rang Teb and told him what happened.

  ‘It’s Saturday night,’ said Teb. ‘Probably just bored kids.’

  ‘What?’ said Malachi. ‘Like us?’

  ‘I’m not bored,’ answered Teb. ‘I’m going to bed. Big party tomorrow.’

  Malachi harrumphed into the phone.

  ‘See ya,’ said Teb. ‘Meet you at Buster’s Park.’

  All night long Malachi tossed and turned, dreaming he was being attacked by giant crows and strangled by sharp-toothed eels. By the time he woke up, his doona was on the floor and he felt like he’d been mangulated.

  Several hours later he and Teb sat on a bench at Buster’s Park, scuffing the dirt with their toes. ‘Better not get my good pants dirty,’ said Teb, ‘or Mum’ll kill me.’ He stood up and started pacing. Malachi joined him. ‘What if he doesn’t show?’ asked Teb.

  A dark look flitted across Malachi’s face but it quickly cleared. ‘He’ll be here,’ he said, quietly confident.

  But by quarter past one no one had turned up.

  ‘I’m gonna have to go soon,’ said Teb. ‘Promised Mum I wouldn’t be late.’

  Malachi clutched at his sleeve. ‘Ten more minutes,’ he begged. ‘Please?’

  ‘Okay,’ said Teb with a shrug. ‘I’m putting my timer on now.’ Teb had one of those watches that not only told the time, it did your homewotk and sang, ‘Once a Jolly Swagman’, too.

  Just as the beeps were going off a man with a huge belly roared up on a motorbike. It was black and chrome and Malachi could just make out the letters ‘PE’ painted on the side. The rest of the word was obscured by the man’s leg. ‘You the kid who wants the pet?’ he yelled over his br-r-m-ming engine.

  Malachi started running over.

  ‘Here ’tis.’ The man held up a box. It was made of cardboard and had airholes punched in the top. The lid was secured with string.

  Well, it can’t be a fish, thought Malachi. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s inside?’

  ‘Not so fast,’ said the man. ‘You bring the cash?’

  ‘Yep.’ Malachi pulled a wad of notes and coins from his pocket. With them came a hot pink ribbon with a small card attached.

  ‘Awww,’ said Teb. ‘Is that to wrap it up with?’

  Malachi scooped up the ribbon and card and blew on them to get the dirt off. ‘Tell me about this pet,’ he said to the man.

  The man leaned back on his bike. ‘Built like a tank, they are.’ He patted his belly. ‘Bit like me.’

  ‘Is it a rabbit?’ asked Teb.

  Ignoring him, the man went on. ‘They live for seven to ten years.’

  ‘That’s 49 to 70 in dog years,’ said Teb. ‘Is it a puppy?’

  ‘They are a native,’ said the man, ‘and will respond to regular feeding and gentle handling.’

  ‘Xanthe will be good at that,’ said Malachi.

  Teb glanced at his watch. ‘I’m sorry to hurry you but I’ve gotta go.’ And with that he snatched the ribbon and card from Malachi, grabbed the box from the man’s hands and took off.

  ‘Wait!’ yelled Malachi, in hot pursuit.

  ‘Oi!’ called the man. ‘What about me money?’ And with one quick rev he took off after them.

  Chapter Five

  Down the street and round the corner went Teb.

  Down the street and around the corner chased Malachi.

  Across the park and over the footpath rode the man.

  Through a roundabout, over a bridge and down a pedestrian mall ran Teb. Despite his best efforts Malachi dropped further and further behind. His chest burned and his breath rasped in his throat. The man on the motorbike had to go round the mall and by the time he reached the other side there was no sign of Teb. But he could see Malachi, sitting on the edge of a fountain.

  ‘Here,’ said Malachi as the man strode over. ‘Here’s your money.’ He opened his fist to reveal some very crushed notes and huge welts in his palm where the coins had dug into them.

  ‘Some mate,’ said the man. ‘Nicking off with your present.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Malachi who was panting too hard to sigh.

  ‘Giving it to your friend, too.’

  Malachi thought about that. Xanthe his friend? Enemy more like it. ‘What was it?’ he asked the man. ‘Now I’ve paid for it, even given it to the person, I’ve a right to know what it is. What sort of glitter thing is it?’

  ‘Glitter?’ The man’s eyes sparkled and he gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘Not glitter. Litter. It’s a Giant Litter Bug.’

  Malachi got to his feet. ‘A what?!’ he asked.

  ‘A Giant Litter Bug,’ repeated the man.

  ‘I’m giving Xanthe a bug?’ squeaked Malachi.

  ‘Not just any bug,’ reassured the man. ‘A native bush cockroach. Heaviest cockies in the world.’

  ‘What?’ yelled Malachi, grabbing the man’s arm. A giant cockie?’ Spit came out with the word, cockie.

  The man nodded.

  Malachi could not keep the alarm from his voice. ‘But I ordered a pet you great big idiot!’ he roared. ‘Not a cockroach.’

  The man looked offended. He pointed to his motorbike. In bright red letters across the fuel tank was the word The Pest Man. ‘My main job is to get rid of ’em,’ explained the man. ‘But some people want to buy ’em. You’re not the first one whose rung wanting pets.’

  Malachi let this sink in when all of a sudden he moaned. ‘Xanthe!’ he said. ‘She’ll die if she gets this pet.’

  ‘C’mon,’ said the man, yanking Malachi by the shirt towards his bike. ‘I’ve got a spare helmet. Chuck it on. We’ll chase your mate.’

  ‘He’s fast,’ whined Malachi. ‘He’ll be there already.’ He put his head in his hands saying, ‘I’m doomed.’

  But the big guy would not take no for an answer. Picking Malachi up with great ham-like hands he thrust him under one arm then dumped him on the bike, shoving the helmet on his head with the other.

  ‘Which direction?’ he boomed.

  Malachi pointed left and with a screech of tyres they were off.

  By the time they pulled up on the motorbike there was no sign of Teb. Or the box. Malachi got off the bike, took a few steps and stopped.

  ‘Whatcha doing?’ asked the man.

  ‘Listening for screams.’

  The man chortled. ‘Go on with you,’ he said, gesturing towards t
he house.

  Pink streamers decorated the door and a pink banner saying ‘Happy Birthday’ was nailed over the top.

  ‘Come on in,’ said a woman hovering in the hallway. ‘You a friend of Xanthe’s?’

  ‘Y-yes,’ said Malachi. Before he entered he turned. The man was resting on his bike, waving him in.

  Blinking his eyes at the darkness Malachi stepped inside.

  ‘She’s out the back,’ called the woman. ‘Opening presents.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Malachi walked down the hall, through a lounge room and out to the kitchen. He halted. Through the window he could spot Xanthe surrounded by tons of people. Some were old and some were young and one or two looked ancient.

  ‘Go on,’ said the woman, shooing Malachi towards the back door.

  ‘I, um. I think I’ll watch for a minute,’ said Malachi.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said the woman. Grabbing a huge slice of caramel pie she went down the stairs to join the others.

  Xanthe wore low slung white pants and a pink top. Her hair was tied back and secured with a pink flower clip. She looks like a girl on a magazine cover, thought Malachi. Far too good for me. He scanned the faces around her, desperately trying to find…‘There he is!’ he gasped.

  Teb was standing one person away from Xanthe. He was laughing with some boy. Probably her little brother, thought Malachi. And in Teb’s hand he clutched the box, brightly bound with pink ribbon. Malachi noticed that the card was missing.

  Xanthe pulled out a pink fluffy teddy bear and Malachi watched everyone laugh and clap. A giant panda, some earrings and a photo frame followed.

  Malachi noticed that the pile of paper at Xanthe’s feet was getting bigger and the number of people holding presents was getting smaller. I’m going to have to do something, he said to himself. But what?

  As casually as he could Malachi stepped into the backyard and joined the crowd surrounding Xanthe. His plan was to infiltrate the group, closer and closer till he could grab the box from Teb. Try as he could he could not get within arm’s distance. He was sandwiched between a man with garlic breath and shoulders wide enough to bridge the Pacific and a woman whose perfume made his eyes water.

  ‘Teb!’ he whispered and waved.

  Teb looked over, scowled, and was just about to call out when Malachi shushed him.

  ‘Xanthe!’ called Teb, pulling a face at Malachi. ‘Here’s another one.’ He held up the box and shook it. From inside came a heavy thud, followed by frantic scratching.

  On the other side of the gathering Malachi shook his head. No, he mouthed. Don’t.

  Teb ignored him. ‘Present for you,’ he said, presenting the box to Xanthe’s outstretched hands. ‘I was asked to give it to you.’

  Malachi looked at the box, all cardboard and pink bow. He looked at Xanthe’s expectant face. ‘Don’t take it!’ he yelled.

  Hundreds of heads swivelled in his direction.

  Xanthe’s hands froze in mid air.

  Malachi could not keep his eyes off the box. And then he noticed something.

  ‘Open it,’ urged Teb. ‘It’s a present from…’

  Malachi cut Teb off singing, ‘Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you.’

  The crowd started joining in.

  Happy Birthday Dear Xanthe-e-e.

  Before Malachi could grab the box Xanthe plucked the present from Teb’s hands and pulled open the bow. ‘No!!!!’ yelled Malachi.

  But he was too late.

  Off came the lid. The Giant Litter Bug slithered out of the box, perched on the rim then jumped in Xanthe’s lap.

  ‘Eeeek!’ squealed Xanthe, flicking off the bug and leaping to her feet. The bug flew through the air and landed…

  Right in Teb’s shirt.

  Teb jerked and hollered, like a thousand scorpions were biting him. He jumped up and down tearing at his shirt.

  Women were screaming and scattering. Men were screaming and scattering, too. Children were howling.

  Finally, Teb yanked off his shirt. At the same time the giant litter bug took a dive—right down the top of his trousers.

  Malachi chuckled.

  Teb plucked at his buckle, flicking open his belt and unbuttoning his fly, all the while making ah, ah sounds.

  ‘Oooooh!’ said the crowd as off came the trousers.

  Malachi chuckled harder. ‘Quick,’ he said, taking Xanthe’s hand and pulling her away. ‘Run for it.’ The last thing Malachi saw was Teb’s eyes widen in horror as something brown disappeared—down the waistband of his boxers. Together Malachi and Xanthe ran up the steps, through the kitchen and down the hall, stopping only when they reached the front yard.

  Shrieks were coming from the backyard although whether they were of terror or of laughter Malachi was not sure. He wondered if Teb was in the nuddy.

  Malachi looked at Xanthe. She was breathing deeply and quite pink in the face. Apart from that she seemed okay. He waited, expecting a torrent of abuse. But all he got was…

  A hug!

  ‘Thanks for trying to stop him,’ she said, hugging Malachi harder. ‘That rotten Teb. Wait till you see what I give him for his birthday!’

  And with that, Malachi started hugging Xanthe back.

  About the Author

  I was once a T-shirt designer for a mortician’s convention. ‘Mawtified’ was the name of my company. I started with simple slogans:

  Undead and loving it!

  Life is a terminal disease.

  Gradually my slogans got longer and longer:

  If you think this week is dead boring, wait till you see what happens next week.

  I’ve seen the afterlife, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.

  And then I got thinking…

  Image is all. And a mortician needs as much help on their image as they can get. So, I went on to these:

  I’m a nice guy. No, seriously I am.

  I may not be dead but I DO have a car.

  Now, this one was my personal fave:

  I’m not a creep. I’m a wonderful, kind, sensitive person hiding inside the body of a creep.

  They fired me after that one. Hey!

  Death is life’s way of telling you you’re fired.

  AAAAaaaaghhhh…

  …and if that wasn’t enough for you, take a look at my website: www.jenimawter.com

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  About the Illustrator

  I left the family farm during a rather turbulent year. On one hand it was a bumper shoe season (the best crop we ever had), and on the other, the year was marred with frequent curious events. Dad lost a leg to a shark that summer at Pippi Beach. Luckily our dog Broadbean found it later that afternoon, but unfortunately it was missing seven of the eight toes and by then Dad was too far into a book to care. My sister spent most of the year in hospital due to the earwax outbreak. Aunty Maude got it too but managed to keep all her hair. Against my wishes, I started a cheese expedition and was marooned before I’d even got to Gorgonzola.

  My medical days behind me, I moved to Luxembourg where I got a job in a factory making air fresheners for taxi drivers. I could not have imagined this in my wildest dreams—mind you this was well before Ugh boots were popular. Later that day I was unexpectedly (I couldn’t resist) let go for ‘sampling too much product’ and made my way back to Mongolia with my tail between my legs (this was later surgically removed).

  I have three wives, fourteen children and the largest Brown Duck collection on the east coast of Holland. The rest is just salad dressing.

  Copyright

  Angus&Robertson

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia

  First published in 2004

  This edition published in 2010

  by HarperCollinsPublishers Pty Limited

  ABN 36 009 913 517

  A member of the HarperCollinsPublishers (Australia) Pty Limited Group

  www.harpercollins.com.au

&nbs
p; Text copyright ©J.A. Mawter 2004

  Illustrations copyright © Gus Gordon 2004

  The right of J. A. Mawter and Gus Gordon to be identified as the moral rights author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000 (Cth).

  This Australian edition is copyright.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the publishers.

  HarperCollinsPublishers

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  10 East 53rd Street, New York NY 10022, USA

  National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

  Mawter, J.A.

  So grotty!

  For children.

  ISBN: 978 0 2072 0007 6 (pbk.)

  ISBN: 978-0-730-49131-6 (ePub)

  I. Gordon, Gus. II. Title.

  A823.4

  About the Publisher

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