by R. A. Spratt
Mum shook her head and waved to indicate that she didn’t want to.
‘No no, I insist,’ said Dame Bronwyn. ‘Come along, everyone, give Mrs Peski a round of applause to get her up here.’
The crowd all clapped rapturously. People began to part to let her through. Mum started forward.
‘Don’t go,’ said Dad. He reached and grabbed her sleeve.
‘Don’t be silly, Harold,’ said Mum. Despite being a hard-nosed international operative, she was caught up in the moment. The idea that perhaps she had been a good mother after all. That she had done a good job of raising April without even realising, was just too entrancing to resist. Somewhere deep beneath all her training as a ruthless killer, buried below so many archaeological layers of false identities, there lurked a guilty mother. And Dame Bronwyn was holding out an olive branch to this poor fragment of her psyche. Of course Mum couldn’t resist. She pushed forward, detaching her wrist neatly from her husband’s grasp, with a deft hapkido joint twist.
Dad wasn’t entirely sure why he was suddenly kneeling on the street while the shooting pain in his arm receded, but as he looked up Mum had disappeared into the masses.
‘No!’ said Dad, scrambling to his feet, but the crowd had moved back. No one wanted to move for an overweight man in a saggy cardigan, rudely trying to push his way through. ‘Stop!’ cried Dad. ‘This isn’t right!’
Mum was stepping up onto the stage now. April beamed at her.
‘Wow,’ said Loretta, she had joined Joe and Fin down in the crowd. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen April smile before. She’s almost pretty when she smiles.’
Joe squinted, trying to see what Loretta meant.
‘Well, maybe not pretty,’ conceded Loretta. ‘But certainly a lot less terrifying.’
April threw herself into her mother’s arms, giving her a big hug.
Fin suddenly sobbed loudly. Joe turned to him in alarm. There were big fat tears welling in Fin’s eyes.
‘I didn’t realise how much I’d missed Mum,’ blubbered Fin. ‘You know, old Mum. Like she was before we found out it was all fake. I miss her.’
‘Me too,’ said Joe.
They weren’t the type of brothers to hug. Joe patted Fin on the shoulder instead.
Loretta rolled her eyes. ‘Boys!’ She threw her hands up in exasperation. ‘You’re so good at changing light bulbs and catching spiders, but so terrible at the important things.’ She threw her arm around Fin and pulled his head to her shoulder. ‘There there, you have a good cry. It’s very therapeutic.’
‘Right,’ said Mr Lang, trying to regain the crowd’s attention. ‘Now it is time for the Potato Princess to return to her float and continue on in her victory parade to the Daffodil Gardens where mashed potato and gravy will be served.’
April was helped back up onto the Giant Potato and Pumpkin was passed up to her. Fin and Neil climbed back inside to drive. Everyone was cheering and clapping as the potato started to pull away, so at first no one noticed the sound of the approaching helicopter. But it was not a regular helicopter, the type used by TV stations to report on the weather or billionaires to avoid commuter traffic. This helicopter was a different beast. It was large and powerful, the type the military use and it was flying in low, heading straight up Main Street.
Eventually Mum heard the whop-whop-whop sound of the blades and turned away from watching April. ‘What is . . .?’ she began to ask.
‘Eurgh,’ groaned Dame Bronwyn. ‘My heart!’ She clutched her chest and toppled sideways, crashing into Mum. She caught the elderly woman before she hit the ground.
‘I’ve got you,’ said Mum.
‘My medicine, it’s in my handbag,’ said Dame Bronwyn as she groped in her purse. ‘Ah, here it is.’
Dame Bronwyn pulled out what looked like an EpiPen, but she didn’t use it on herself. Before Mum could react, Dame Bronwyn stabbed her with the injection. Mum’s legs went limp, she couldn’t breathe, she was falling. Strong arms caught her. It was Dame Bronwyn’s too-muscly assistant. This was a trap. She’d been caught in a trap.
The helicopter swooped in fast and low, hovering near the stage as commandos repelled down. Dame Bronwyn’s assistant ran towards them, carrying Mum. Dame Bronwyn had ditched her tweed skirt, revealing that she had been wearing lycra leggings underneath. She sprinted towards the chopper too – the frailty had been an act. She was an imposter. This woman might be old but she was incredibly fit.
‘Stop them!’ yelled Dad.
All of a sudden something clicked. Everyone in Currawong unanimously and without discussion realised that the time for playing games was over. People began to launch into action.
For a start, the two people dressed as potatoes sprinted after Mum and her kidnapper. One of the potatoes was particularly athletic. Despite the encumbrance of wearing a huge foam suit, the potato caught up with the kidnapper and crash-tackled him to the ground. Mum tumbled down too. The foam head fell off the potato person revealing that it was – Ingrid! The other potato arrived and jumped on top of the kidnapper, helping to subdue him. She whipped off her own foam head so she could see better. It was Joy, the grumpy waitress, moving with more zeal and energy than she ever had when waiting on tables.
Mum sat up. She was very dazed and confused.
Dad raced forward to help. The commandos were bearing down on her. They were going to get to her first. Even if Dad could get there in time, there was very little he could do to stop four super fit, highly armed operatives.
‘Bertha!’ cried Dad. ‘Run!’
‘Eurgh,’ moaned Mum. She tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t work.
Dame Bronwyn grabbed Mum and was dragging her towards the commandos, who were only a few metres away, when all of a sudden, something came swooping out of the sky!
It was the papier-mâché potato that had slammed into the Odinsdottir’s car. The potato had been repaired and rehung over Main Street. Someone had cut one of the ropes. It skittled all four commandos like a tenpin bowling ball.
Swinging on the back of the potato and steering it through the air was the Cat Lady. She might be eighty-six years old, but once a trapeze artist always a trapeze artist. The commandos were knocked off their feet and they all smashed into the front window of the Good Times Cafe. The Cat Lady slid from the spud and landed, cat-like, on the road. Broken glass was scattered everywhere. Out through the freshly smashed window strode Chef Klaus, rolling pin in one hand and cooking twine in the other.
‘You shouldn’t have come here, boys,’ said the chef. He then unleashed on them a startling display of rolling-pin-based martial arts.
One of them tried to make a run for it, but when he scrambled to his feet Mrs Bellamy was standing in his way. ‘Move!’ bellowed the commando as he grabbed the old lady by the shoulder and tried to shove her, but suddenly he found a handbag crashing into his forearm. The handbag felt like it was made of lead. Probably because it was. Then there was a searing pain in his shin where he had just been whacked in the shin. And before he knew it, he found himself sitting on the ground, nursing a broken arm.
Another commando lunged forward to help him, but soon found his legs knocked out from under him by Mrs Bellamy’s handbag. When he hit the pavement face-first, he was knocked unconscious.
Joe caught up to Dame Bronwyn and grabbed the shoulder pad of her tweed jacket but to no avail. When the imposter potato guru spun around she held the taser to Mum’s throat.
‘Don’t come any closer, boy. Not if you want your mother to keep breathing,’ she threatened.
The fake Dame had backed up against one of the Potato Princess floats. It was the forklift covered in toilet paper rosettes. She shoved Mum into the princess throne on the prongs of the forklift, jumped into the driver’s seat and took off down Main Street.
‘Quick, after her!’ yelled April.
Fin ground the gears on the tractor, found first and the Giant Potato took off at top speed. This was about five kilometres per hour, but he worked his way up through th
e gears as fast as he could. ‘Doesn’t this thing go any faster?’ Fin pleaded to Neil.
‘Actually,’ said Neil. ‘It does. Hit the red button.’
On the dashboard, a red button had been gaffer taped to the console.
‘What does it do?’ asked Fin.
‘You’ll see,’ said Neil.
Fin hit the button – the engine roared, the tractor shook and the whole Giant Potato lunged forward, accelerating rapidly.
‘I put in a nitrous-oxide booster,’ Neil yelled over the sound of the engine.
‘Why?’ asked Fin, terrified and adrenalised as he drove the speeding spud down Main Street with no peripheral vision, just the sight of the forklift his mother was being kidnapped on up ahead.
‘In case of emergencies,’ said Neil.
‘How did you know there would be an emergency?’ asked Fin.
‘Always is with your family,’ said Neil.
Back on Main Street, Joe was chasing after them all as fast as he could on foot, but he couldn’t keep up. He heard a honk behind him. Jo turned to see President Sweet’s bright red mobility scooter bearing down on him, with Tom clinging to the back. Joe leapt to one side. The scooter pulled up short and Loretta leaned out the window. ‘Jump on!’ she urged.
‘Can this thing move three people?’ asked Joe.
‘Oh yes,’ said Loretta.
‘Fin put in a bigger engine,’ explained Tom.
Joe noticed that the bonnet had been removed and what looked like an outboard motor from a speedboat was shackled to the chassis. He climbed on the back. He didn’t want to get left behind.
The forklift Dame Bronwyn was driving was nearing the outskirts of Currawong. It was about to reach the bridge that led out of town.
‘They must be heading for some back-up rendezvous point,’ said Fin.
‘Where?’ asked Neil.
Suddenly, the helicopter swooped low over the potato and hovered directly above the bridge.
The forklift sped towards it.
‘If they get to the helicopter first, we’ll never save Mum!’ yelled April.
Fin pressed the accelerator flat to the floor and the potato shot forward as fast as possible.
The commandos were all still back in Currawong, so the helicopter had to land to pick up Dame Bronwyn and Mum. It touched down on the bridge. Dame Bronwyn stopped the forklift and pulled Mum off the front.
The Giant Potato still had a hundred metres to cover to get there.
‘No!’ cried Fin.
Dame Bronwyn and Mum took their first step towards the helicopter, but at that exact moment, there was a terrible creaking noise. Dame Bronwyn stopped in her tracks. The noise stopped. Then suddenly, the bridge collapsed. The helicopter fell with it, plummeting into the river below.
‘Wow!’ said Fin. ‘I did not see that coming.’
Mr Lang was acting interim mayor because the former mayor had failed to properly maintain the local infrastructure, specifically the bridge, which had already had the guardrail knocked off by a runaway psychiatrist’s van (for more information see Peski Kids 2, Bear in the Woods). Mr Lang had been acting mayor for over a month now, but he still had a full-time job at the school so he hadn’t got around to fixing the infrastructure either. Which turned out to be a good thing, because in this instance the laziness and inefficiency of the local council was literally lifesaving.
Fin and Neil scrambled out of the potato to go and help Mum, but they didn’t get a chance. A horse galloped past them. They assumed it was Loretta, but no – they saw Dad bearing down on Dame Bronwyn, urging Vladimir on at a full gallop.
‘Go, Dad!’ yelled Fin.
Dad leapt off Vladimir and tackled Dame Bronwyn with even more enthusiasm than he would have done if he had still wanted her autograph. Dame Bronwyn might be an international operative but she was still an old lady so she was winded by having an overweight man land on top of her. Dad was soon on his feet again and running over to Mum.
‘Oh Bertha,’ cried Dad. ‘Are you all right? Did she hurt you?’
‘I’m fine, Harold,’ said Mum. ‘Just dazed. And a bit confused. Did I just get rescued by a giant poo and a horse?’
‘I’m just so glad you’re all right,’ said Dad. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you again.’ He wrapped Mum in a big bear hug and gave her a kiss. Admittedly it was on the top of the head, which isn’t the most romantic way to kiss the woman who used to pretend to be your wife, but for Dad this was a pretty impressive public display of affection.
Loretta, Joe and Tom had just pulled up on President Sweet’s mobility scooter.
‘Well done, Mr Peski,’ said Loretta. ‘You make a wonderful knight in shining armour!’
‘Bertha,’ said Dad. ‘I know our entire relationship has been a farce. But please, I’m begging you. Marry me. And for real this time. Because life is so complicated and I can’t cope alone. And I know it’s stupid of me, but I can’t help myself – I love you.’
April sobbed. Pumpkin licked the tears that started to roll down her face.
‘It’s not stupid, Harold,’ said Mum. ‘Not all of our entire relationship was a farce. We did have three very real children. Pretty wonderful children too.’
‘Four,’ said Loretta. ‘You shouldn’t put adopted children in a separate category. It diminishes adoption, which, if anything, is even more special than a biological relationship.’
‘She does realise that she isn’t adopted, doesn’t she?’ Mum asked Dad.
‘I find it best to just go along with whatever Loretta wants,’ said Dad. ‘It’s easier.’
‘April!’ Neil almost shouted. He was caught up in the emotion of the moment. ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’
‘What?’ asked April, wiping tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand.
‘I love you,’ said Neil. He lunged lips-first and planted a kiss on her cheek.
‘Ew! Gross!’ yelled April, shoving Neil so hard he lost his balance and tumbled backwards into the river with a big splash. As soon as his head bobbed above water, April started yelling at him, ‘I’m only twelve! I’m too young for that sort of malarkey!’
‘April,’ declared Tom, ‘I love you too!’
‘Can you swim?’ asked April.
‘Of course, vision-impaired people are perfectly capable of . . .’ began Tom.
He never got to finish his sentence because April pushed him in the river too.
‘Neil,’ April yelled to him as he waded to the bank. ‘While you’re in there, can you make sure Tom doesn’t drown?’
Neil nodded and went back to grab Tom by the collar.
‘Well done, Neil,’ called Fin, giving his friend the thumbs up. ‘That went pretty well.’
Neil smiled too as he helped Tom up on the bank. He knew that April was not the sort to be easily won. He was in no rush.
It took a few days to get Currawong straightened out again.
Professor Maynard was delighted – once they rounded up all the commandos, the helicopter, the fake Dame Bronwyn and her fake assistant they had arrested seven top Kolektiv agents. And Dad’s anti-toxin had worked so she didn’t have to get her arm amputated.
It was a bit weird for a few days, coming to terms with the fact that so many people in town were ex-spies with dangerous pasts, but people soon forgot about it. Everyone in Currawong had always known that everyone else in Currawong was odd. Now they just had a better understanding of why.
The biggest change was that the Peski kids finally felt at home. The kids at school had always given them a hard time for being outsiders, but now they realised that everyone was an outsider really. And it was just the way of Currawongians to give people a hard time. It didn’t mean they didn’t like you. It actually showed they cared, if they cared enough to be mean to your face.
By the following weekend, the town was abuzz with excitement not because there was an upcoming festival, not for another two weeks anyway, but because of the upcoming wedding between Mum and Dad. It
was supposed to have been a double wedding. But Ingrid and Joy snuck off in the middle of the night and eloped to Borneo. Joy had always wanted to see a sloth, and Ingrid wanted Joy to be happy.
The big day had arrived and the Daffodil Gardens was the venue. There couldn’t have been a more beautiful setting. True, some of the flowerbeds were still a little trampled from the Capture the Potato Game, but slightly trampled gardens were a big part of Dad’s life so it seemed appropriate.
Joe, Fin, April and Loretta were sitting in the front row of folding chairs. The Cat Lady was the marriage celebrant, she was talking Dad through what was about to happen. She was used to calming frightened animals so the Cat Lady was perfect for this job.
The whole town had turned out in full force. People had brought picnic blankets. Constable Pike had erected temporary seating. The CWA was selling scones – they never let a fund-raising opportunity go to waste. Everyone loved a wedding and Currawongians loved getting together to celebrate weird, random stuff. So the oddball eccentric gardener getting married to his not-quite wife of twenty years was a great occasion for the whole town.
‘Now I know that Currawong is full of dangerous ex-operatives with myriad secret agendas, I really feel at home here,’ said April.
‘What?’ said Fin. Not following her logic at all.
‘We’re not weirdos here,’ said April. ‘Because everyone here is a weirdo. In Currawong, we are in fact – normal.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ said Fin.
‘And everyone loves you all,’ said Loretta.
‘I definitely wouldn’t go that far,’ said Fin.
‘D-D-Daisy tried to kill me yesterday,’ said Joe. ‘And the day before.’
‘Yes, but only because she loves you,’ said Loretta. ‘And the whole town clearly loves April because she’s the Potato Princess.’
April blushed. She actually found she quite enjoyed the title. She had to wear the potato crown to all public events for a full calendar year. But it was so ugly, and the potatoes it was made from were sure to rot, so she enjoyed that too.
‘And Fin will go down in Currawong history as the greatest inventor of our age,’ said Loretta.
