Wicked Bindup

by Paul Jennings

  ‘Got it,’ she yelled. She shot out one arm and held her bra in the air above her head. We both looked at each other, embarrassed. After all, she was my sister. My face felt as red as hers looked.

  ‘Tie it across the doorway,’ I said.

  We snuck back to the door and I pushed one end over a rusty bolt near the door frame. Then I passed the other end across to Dawn. Please don’t let the queen see it. Please don’t let the queen grab my outstretched arm.

  Dawn wedged her end into a broken hinge. The sucking of the babies grew louder but there was not a sound from the queen.

  I put my precious ball of mould into one of the cups of the bra. Just like I had done so long ago with tennis balls.

  Suddenly I leapt into the doorway and pulled my slingshot back. ‘Take that,’ I screamed. I released the bra and the ball of mould hurtled into the air.

  The queen saw it. Her eyes darted from side to side. She opened her huge mouth. Then, like an expert batsman, she flipped the ball of mould into the air with her tongue.

  It broke into pieces and fell like powder slowly downwards.

  My heart fell with it. The queen had beaten us. Hit us for a six.

  There was only one ball of mould left. We could try to use it to save ourselves. Have another shot. But then we’d have none left to try and save Mum and Dad and Howard.

  We watched in despair as the blue powder floated down.

  All over the baby slobberers.

  They immediately began to squirm and jiggle. They didn’t like it. It was attacking them. Sending them crazy. But they didn’t let go of those teats. Not for a second. They began to suck at an enormous rate. Faster and faster. Sucking, sucking, sucking. As if they were dying of thirst. In agony they sucked. Faster and faster. The blue mould was sending them into a feeding frenzy.

  The queen let out a furious howl of pain. She shook her fat body like a dying walrus but to no effect. The babies bit harder and sucked even more furiously. They grew and grew as the gorging continued.

  And the queen began to shrink. Squealing and thrashing around she tried to rid herself of her terrible offspring.

  Dawn gasped in horror. ‘They’re sucking her out,’ she yelled. ‘They’re swallowing her innards. Drinking her guts.’

  I could only nod in amazement. The babies grew larger with every swallow. Now they were the size of cars. They wallowed and wriggled and sucked, in last desperate struggles for life.

  The queen gave an enormous hiss and then collapsed like a huge rug onto the floor. They had totally sucked her out. She was nothing but a giant slimy mat.

  The monstrous babies continued to suck on the empty teats. But there was nothing left. The meal was over.

  Boom. The first baby exploded in an ear-splitting shower of foul yellow muck. Boom, boom, boom. The others followed. They splattered all over the floor and walls.

  A silence fell over the dining room. Dawn and I just stood there staring at the scene with mouths hanging open.

  I bent down and examined the remains of the babies. ‘Looks like curried egg,’ I said.

  We both started to laugh.

  Then we ran over the empty skin and carried our ball of mould along the corridor and up the ladder into the open air.

  I was filled with happiness. The mould was curing me. And we had enough for poor Mum. And Dad. And my brother Howard. Everything was great. My real family was going to be together again.

  ‘Dad,’ I screamed. ‘Mum. Howard. I’m coming.’

  TEN

  I thought Rev Arnott was going to faint when Dad asked him for another wedding.

  ‘But,’ he stammered, ‘the last one was only five weeks ago.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Dad, ‘but it was a bit disrupted so we thought we’d do it again. Plus there’s a few people who couldn’t make it last time. A step-son I didn’t know I had. And my wife’s ex-husband.’ Dad gave me a grin and ruffled my hair. ‘And my daughter wants to be there for the whole thing this time.’

  I poked my tongue out at Dad and ruffled his hair.

  Rev Arnott mopped his face with a piece of blotting paper from his desk. He did look very stressed. I realised what it probably was.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘None of the wedding party or guests will be contagious. The doctors have given us the all-clear. And I promise there’ll be no worms in church this time.’

  Rev Arnott looked a bit relieved. I gave him a smile, glad to have helped.

  I didn’t mention my concern about the wedding.

  Last night we had a pre-wedding family dinner. It was a bit of a squash round the table because Gramps invited Ivy Bothwell and we invited Alex and Bob. They’re the government men who’ve been looking after us and keeping the media away. They reckon if word about the virus leaks out there could be a national health panic. I’ve tried to explain to them how that probably won’t happen now the virus has been eradicated, but they reckon people get very tense about health issues.

  I know what they mean. A couple of days ago I asked Eileen if she was going back to her bottom exercises and she got extremely tense. I had to give her a very long hug and clean her new bike to calm her down.

  Mostly she and I get on pretty well, specially when we do things together like visiting Mum’s grave or laying the table for dinner like we did last night.

  While we were waiting for Karl and Howard to arrive from their new place across town, Gramps was telling Ivy Bothwell about Mum.

  ‘A hero,’ he was saying. ‘Gave her life to save a passenger. Pity not more bus drivers are like that.’

  I grinned. Gramps had already said that to most of the people in town, including two bus drivers. He’d even persuaded the local paper to do an article about Mum. And persuaded Alex and Bob to allow them to print it as long as he didn’t say anything about the goat being infected.

  ‘Of course,’ said Gramps to Ivy Bothwell, ‘she got her guts and determination from me. Did I tell you about the time Rory and I wrestled a giant toad?’

  ‘Frog, Wilf,’ said Ivy Bothwell. ‘It was a frog.’

  Ivy told me the other day how she’s really attracted to men with failing memories because they don’t waste time talking about old cricket scores.

  Gramps told the story about the frog again, and Alex and Bob started looking a bit anxious in case Ivy was a reporter for a pensioner’s magazine. I was feeling a bit anxious too. Not about Ivy, about Rory.

  He was sitting in the corner not saying anything. He’s been moody and quiet for several weeks, ever since we got back from hospital. I’ve asked him what’s wrong but he hasn’t wanted to talk. Even though the doctors have guaranteed there’s no virus left in his body, and his skin is as clear as Karl and Eileen and Howard’s, seeing him sitting there so depressed I was worried something was wrong.

  Then Karl and Howard arrived and suddenly I was a lot more worried.

  Their faces were covered in white patches. My insides froze. Everyone in the room stared in horror. ‘Oh no,’ whispered Eileen. ‘Karl, your face.’

  Karl looked at us for a moment, then burst out laughing. ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘It’s just paint.’

  We gawked at him.

  ‘We’ve been painting the ceiling of my room,’ grinned Howard. ‘We ran out of turps.’

  Everyone breathed out and started talking all at once.

  ‘Jeez,’ said Eileen. ‘Don’t do that to us.’

  ‘There’s turps under the sink,’ said Dad. ‘Don’t get it in my lamb stew.’

  ‘I used to wear a fair bit of camouflage in the war,’ said Gramps.

  ‘I’ve got some news,’ said Karl when he’d cleaned himself up. Most of us quietened down when we heard this. Gramps carried on whispering to Ivy Bothwell about boot polish.

  ‘I had a call this afternoon,’ continued Karl, ‘from the defence department team who are analysing the tanker at the refinery.’ Now he had Gramps’ attention too. ‘They reckon the virus came from an area of the Persian Gulf affected by an underwater vol
canic eruption. The tanker took water in there as ballast on its last voyage out to the oilfields.’

  ‘That’s just a theory,’ said Bob hastily.

  ‘It hasn’t been verified,’ added Alex, looking nervously at Ivy Bothwell.

  We all started talking about underwater volcanic eruptions and how we’d stay well away from them in future. Except Rory. He just sat there looking sadly at Karl and Eileen.

  I went and sat next to him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked quietly. ‘Do you want to talk? We can go out the back.’

  Rory shook his head.

  ‘Rory,’ I said, exasperated. ‘We’ve fought slobberers and killer roots together. We’ve saved each other’s lives. We’ve shared a bra. Talk to me.’

  His eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s private,’ he muttered. ‘Family business.’ He got up and went to his room and locked the door.

  This morning, when we were ready to leave for the church, Rory wasn’t around.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Eileen, ‘he’s over at Karl’s.’

  But when Karl and Howard arrived here at the church, Rory wasn’t with them. I wanted to go and look for him, but the adults made me stay here and Karl went.

  The wedding should have started ten minutes ago. Mrs Conti is playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’ for the fifth time. Mr Kinloch from the Wool Growers’ Association is making an origami sheep out of his hymn list.

  Rory still isn’t here.

  Neither is Karl.

  It’s what I’ve feared.

  ELEVEN

  Here I am back on the bus just sitting and looking down the aisle. Nothing much has changed. The seats are still sagging and the broken windows are covered in dust like before. The same tree is growing up through the bonnet outside.

  The skeleton of the goat is gone, though. Dad had come and buried it with the dog skin. Just to be on the safe side.

  There’s lots to be happy about.

  Everyone is well again. I am healthier than I have ever been. Even my limp is improving. And Dawn and I are getting on terrifically. She still bugs me sometimes, especially when she comes into my room without knocking. But at school we always stick up for each other. Like the time Dawn put Rick Philpot in his place for repeating that false rumour about my dad being in trouble with the police. She fixed him up real good.

  And Gramps. Well, he still keeps thinking he is back in the war and gets things muddled up. But he laughs a lot. He hangs around with Ivy Bothwell. And he and I go fishing together on Sundays and always have a great time. Dawn gets a bit cut about it but she’s never said anything.

  And Dad. That’s the best of all – knowing that he loves me. And on top of that there is something else. It is still a secret but some government research scientists want to buy the blue mould from him. It turned out to be a new sort of penicillin. Howard says that Dad is going to be rich one day. We’re both going to get new trail bikes. Fantastic.

  So why aren’t I happy?

  Because I’ve got a problem, that’s why. I’ve been sitting here churning it over for ages. A few minutes ago I had just started to go over it again when a noise interrupted my thoughts. Someone was coming. A figure stepped up into the bus. I couldn’t see who it was because the sun was glaring through the windscreen.

  ‘Rory,’ said a voice. ‘Dawn told me you’d be here. Why aren’t you at the wedding? Everyone’s waiting.’

  It was Dad. He came and sat next to me. Worried.

  I stared at the floor. ‘I’m not going to the wedding,’ I said. ‘I don’t want Mum and Jack to get married again.’

  ‘Why, mate? Why?’ said Dad. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  ‘I want them to get divorced.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want you and Mum to get married again,’ I yelled. ‘I want it to be like it was in the old days. When we all had tickle fights. And cooked sausages and eggs together on Saturdays. And went to the market. And you and Mum held hands and – ’

  ‘Rory,’ said Dad. ‘It was all over long ago with me and your mum. We can’t get back together.’

  ‘Why not?’ I shouted. I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes.

  ‘We don’t love each other,’ said Dad. ‘Not in that way. Not any more.’

  ‘So now I have to choose,’ I yelled. ‘I have to decide whether to live with you and Howard, or with Mum and Jack. I want you and Mum together. Just the four of us.’

  Dad stared out of the window. ‘Rory,’ he said. ‘We’ve already been through that. You can live with your mum and come and see me any time you want. All you have to do is hop on the bus. Or you can live one week with her and one with me. Or whatever you like. It’s up to you.’

  ‘It’s not the same,’ I said. ‘It’s just not the same.’

  Dad didn’t say anything for quite a bit. ‘I know it’s not the same,’ he said. ‘But it can still be good.’ He looked at his watch. Then he rubbed his hand through my hair. The way he always used to. ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘We’re holding up the wedding. Are you sure you won’t come?’

  I shook my head stubbornly. Dad stood up and headed off. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to force you.’

  I looked out of the window and watched him walk past the clapped-out Land Rover and out of the broken gates of the wrecker’s yard.

  He is gone.

  After everything that has happened I’m back in the bus where it all started. I want to go to the wedding. I want to join in with the others. I really do.

  But I just don’t think I can face it.

  TWELVE

  I thought Dad and Eileen’s first wedding was tense but this one has turned out to be even tenser.

  Fifteen minutes after the ceremony was meant to start, Rory and Karl still hadn’t arrived.

  My insides were in a double knot.

  Rev Arnott was chewing his lip. Dad and Eileen were staring at the aisle carpet, pale and anxious. The guests were turning round in their pews, whispering to each other. Even Gramps looked worried.

  I slid up next to Howard. ‘Rory wouldn’t talk to me,’ I said. ‘Did he tell you what’s bugging him?’

  ‘No,’ said Howard, ‘but I can guess. It’s not easy, having more than two parents.’

  I nodded.

  ‘It’s great having extra ones,’ he continued, ‘even if they’re not all still around, but it can be mighty confusing.’

  I nodded again. I could see Howard was thinking about the couple who had adopted him and then been killed. I wanted to give him a hug, but there are some painful feelings you have to have on your own.

  Like the ones I imagined poor Rory was having.

  Howard swallowed and blinked. Then he grinned bravely.

  ‘Anyhow,’ he said, ‘let’s look on the bright side. They’ll probably turn up for the reception. Rory wouldn’t miss party pies.’

  I tried to grin bravely too, but I’m not as good at it as Howard.

  ‘Talking of the reception,’ said Howard, ‘I hope you’re going to be gentle with Gavin and Kyle Kinloch.’

  I looked at him. Then I turned round and glared at the Kinloch brothers. They saw me and both blushed.

  Relax, I said to myself. You’ve handled slobberers and killer mould. You can handle a couple of Year 7 dopes giving you a hard time because you’re wearing a dress.

  I knew I could. But I still wished my new T-shirt hadn’t disappeared. The one I’d been planning to wear with jeans.

  I gave the Kinlochs another glare and they went bright red.

  Howard leant over to me. ‘They’re going to ask you for a dance,’ he whispered.

  I stared at him, speechless.

  Then Rev Arnott cleared his throat and explained that the ceremony had to start because he had another one booked in for twelve-thirty.

  Dad and Eileen stood up the front with their shoulders slumped and I knew exactly how they felt. How could we be a proper family if we couldn’t even do the wedding right?


  Rev Arnott started the service, but his heart wasn’t in it. Neither was mine. I could see Dad’s and Eileen’s weren’t. The only people who looked keen for it to happen were the Kinloch boys.

  Rev Arnott said the bit about how if anyone had a reason why these two people should not be joined together in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.

  The door at the back of the church swung open with a creak.

  We all turned. Standing there were Rory and Karl.

  I stopped breathing. The church was silent except for the faint tinkling of Gramps’ medals. I looked at Rory. Rory opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

  ‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Karl.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Rory. ‘We haven’t got a reason why Jack and Mum shouldn’t be joined together.’

  The whole congregation breathed a sigh of relief.

  Dad spoke. ‘I have,’ he said.

  We stared at him, gobsmacked.

  Rev Arnott went pale.

  ‘Me and Eileen should not be joined in matrimony,’ said Dad, ‘before we’ve thanked our kids for everything they’ve done to keep this family together.’ He looked at me. ‘Even when a certain dopey dad didn’t take his daughter seriously.’

  Everyone in the church breathed another big sigh of relief. Dad and Eileen came over and hugged me and Rory and Howard.

  Then Karl did the same.

  And Gramps.

  When Ivy Bothwell flung her arms round Howard, Rev Arnott suggested that further thanks be saved until after the wedding.

  As Dad and Eileen renewed their vows, and said the stuff about being a family till death us do part, Rory and Howard and I looked at each other and we knew that went for us too.

  Dad and Eileen gazed at each other lovingly, and something in their faces reminded me of Mum.

  This was the moment I’d been dreading. The moment that could ruin everything.

  I turned and looked at Karl. The man who’d brought the virus into our lives. Into Mum’s life. If I was going to blame anyone for Mum’s death, it would be Karl.