Charlie Burr and the Cockroach Disaster

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Charlie Burr and the Cockroach Disaster Page 5

by Sally Morgan


  ‘Can you think of a better idea?’ I said.

  We walked along in silence again while Johnno had a think.

  Finally he said, ‘I guess I could tell a joke. Last night I found my old joke book. I’ve got it in my bag.’

  I knew which book it was. The jokes in it were weak!

  ‘What did the left ear say to the right ear?’ said Johnno.

  I shrugged.

  ‘Between us we’ve got brains!’ Johnno busted out laughing. ‘That’s you and me, mate! Between us we’ve got brains!’

  I didn’t laugh. I didn’t mind sharing my brains with Johnno. I just didn’t want him sharing his awful jokes with me.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘You don’t need to tell any jokes. Jokes aren’t magic, anyway. All you have to do is collect the money and introduce me and Spike.’

  Johnno gasped, ‘Is Spike going to be in our show?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He was in my dream, so I figure he should be in the show.’

  ‘All the kids will want to watch if Spike’s in our show!’ said Johnno.

  That’s what I was counting on!

  Dad was in the kitchen when we arrived. The girls were in their room working on Mum’s present. Mum was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Ah, Charlie,’ Dad said, ‘I want you and Johnno to keep the noise down. Your mum’s trying to sleep.’

  ‘But Mum’s already been sleeping too much!’ I said.

  ‘Some people’s bodies don’t react well to modern medicine,’ Dad said. ‘I think your Mum is one of them. The new anti-rash tablets are great for the itch, but they zapped her up so much she didn’t sleep a wink last night.’

  Mum with sleep was grumpy enough. But Mum without sleep would be a psycho! I would definitely keep the noise down if it meant Mum could rest.

  ‘Dinner will be early tonight,’ Dad said. ‘That way we’ll have plenty of time to sort out the waiter training and a few other little things.’

  I had a feeling Dad’s ‘few other little things’ would turn out to be a whole lot of big things! What about me and Johnno’s show? We had no idea what magic tricks we were doing yet!

  Also, I had to teach Spike a trick. And Johnno needed to practise introducing us.

  ‘Will it take long, Dad?’ I moaned.

  Dad frowned. ‘It’s for your mum, son. Does it matter?’

  ‘No, of course not, Dad!’ I said.

  But it did matter to me. Dad wasn’t the only one trying to make Mum happy on her birthday!

  Johnno and me went out the back to get Spike. The pup was really pleased to see us. ‘Come on, fella!’ I said. ‘You’re going to be a star.’

  On the way back through the kitchen, I grabbed some tomato sauce and cold fried sausages from the fridge. Spike loves sausages with a dab of tomato sauce. It was the easiest way to train him.

  Johnno said he was thirsty, so we grabbed two plastic cups and a bottle of cold cordial.

  Back in my room, we drank the cordial, and then Johnno reached for the sausages. I shoved his hand away.

  ‘I thought they were for us,’ he said.

  ‘They’re to train Spike!’

  Johnno wasn’t happy about that. He stared sadly at the sausages. ‘What are we training him to do?’ he asked.

  ‘Well,’ I said. ‘The other day I was throwing a tennis ball for him in the backyard and he got so excited he stood up on his back legs …’

  ‘The Dancing Dingo!’ yelled Johnno.

  That was a good name, but I had to tell him to shut up in case he woke Mum.

  Then, before we could even begin training Spike, Dad came in.

  ‘Come outside and give me a hand, will you, boys?’

  ‘Can’t we do it later, Dad?’ I said. ‘We’ve got important things to do!’

  ‘I’ve got one word for you, Charlie,’ said Dad. ‘Birthday!’

  It was the one word I couldn’t argue with!

  I grabbed Spike and the four of us went out onto the back verandah.

  ‘See all that gear?’ said Dad, pointing to the piles of junk littering the backyard. ‘It’s all got to go back in my shed.’

  The job was going to take hours and hours. And then me and Johnno would still have to wait for Dad to teach us how to be waiters!

  ‘We can’t give your mum a moonlit dinner surrounded by junk,’ Dad said. ‘Come on, you two bludgers. Get stuck into it!’

  Me and Johnno slaved away for ages.

  It was getting dark by the time Sharni and Tia came out. I pulled a face at them behind Dad’s back.

  ‘Fizzy, Fizzy, Fizzy!’ teased Sharni.

  ‘What does she mean?’ Johnno asked me.

  ‘Tell you later!’ I said. Not!

  ‘Guess what, Dad?’ said Tia. ‘We’ve finished our present for Mum!’

  ‘Good on you, girls!’ Dad said. ‘Your mum needs all the love and support she can get right now.’

  Just then Mum appeared on the back verandah. She had her hands on her hips. ‘Why do I need lovesh and sshupport?’ she demanded.

  If Mum could have seen herself in a mirror, she’d know!

  Johnno made a shocked, gasping sound. I didn’t blame him.

  Mum’s curly green hair was wild and spiky from tossing and turning. The bald patch was practically glowing. Her eyes were shrunken from lack of sleep. And the lumps from her allergic rash were bigger. Worse still, a large one had sprouted on the end of her nose!

  ‘You must be hungry, love!’ Dad said cheerfully. ‘Let’s all go inside and I’ll make us some baked beans on toast.’

  Mum spun around and stormed through the back door. ‘I’m nosh hungry!’ she said. ‘I jussh need sshome sshleepsh!’

  We all went into the kitchen.

  ‘What about a nice cup of tea?’ said Dad.

  ‘Are you crayshee, Jim?’ Mum said. ‘Tea will keepsh me awakesh even longersh!’

  Tia took Mum by the arm. ‘Come into our room, Mum,’ she said. ‘Sharni and me have something special for you.’

  ‘An early birthday surprise!’ said Sharni.

  The three of them vanished into the girls’ bedroom.

  ‘I think you should call the Royal Flying Doctor Service and get Aunty Shirl sent to the big hospital in Perth,’ whispered Johnno. ‘She doesn’t look human!’

  A few minutes later, Mum staggered back into the kitchen carrying a lumpy, wonky, red papier-mâché heart as big as a suitcase. Only the pimple twins could’ve made something so weird.

  ‘It’s good to knowsh sshomeboshy lovesh me even when I’m likesh thish!’ Mum said.

  Then she spun around and carted the heart into her and Dad’s bedroom. My sisters went with her.

  Dad sighed. ‘Your mum is feeling really low, Charlie! She needs to know how much we all love her.’

  Dad was right. Now that Mum couldn’t sleep, things were desperate! I loved Mum as much as the girls did and I was determined to show it. I’d be a really good waiter at her dinner on Sunday. If only Dad would get on with the training!

  I’d make sure the magic show was a success, too. Even if I had to stay up till sunrise practising. Mum needed the mystery prize a lot more than Tim did!

  ‘Right, boys,’ said Dad. ‘There’s still some gear to put away. Then we have to rake the yard.’

  ‘But it’s already dark, Dad!’ I said.

  ‘When someone in your family is having a hard time,’ he said, ‘you do whatever it takes to help, son! I’ll rig up an outdoor light. That way we’ll have all night!’

  Aw! What?

  It was really late by the time Dad finished bossing us around. Johnno and me were dead on our feet. We were too tired to practise anything for our show. Instead we crashed out and went to sleep.

  And as for our waiter training from Dad—that took less than a minute.

  ‘It’s not hard, boys,’ he said. ‘Just don’t drop the dinner when you’re carrying it out. And don’t spill any cooldrink on the birthday girl!’

  I reckon Dad just wan
ted to use us to get his shed organised.

  Arrgh!

  I struggled to wake up this morning. Mum crashed around the house all night.

  First she made a racket tidying up in the kitchen. Then she watched television for hours in the lounge room. Finally she went and sat out on the back verandah.

  That was when I heard Dad tell her the lump on the end of her nose hadn’t got bigger. But Mum said she reckoned she only had to look in the bathroom mirror to know Dad was lying!

  I felt like I only got five minutes’ sleep. In those five minutes I dreamed I was a performer called Mr Goannazam. All my magic tricks flopped and everyone laughed at me!

  Johnno tossed and turned too, but he slept through more of Mum’s midnight stomping than I did. When he woke up he said, ‘Our show is going to be a disaster, Charlie! We don’t know what we’re doing.’

  Like I needed him to remind me!

  But maybe there was still time to train Spike to dance on his back legs. I shoved my hand under my pillow. That was where I’d stuffed the sausages when Dad came and got us yesterday.

  Guess what? The sausages were gone!

  ‘Johnno!’ I yelled. ‘Did you eat the sausages?’

  ‘It’s your fault the sausages are gone, Charlie!’ said Johnno. ‘You woke me up in the middle of the night by talking in your sleep!’

  ‘I was too tired to talk in my sleep!’ I said.

  ‘Mr Goannazam?’ said Johnno.

  Okay, so maybe I did talk in my sleep.

  ‘And I didn’t eat them,’ Johnno said. ‘I used the sausages to train Spike, because he woke up, too!’

  Spike was curled up next to Johnno on the mattress on the floor. He whined and licked his lips.

  ‘If you trained Spike, then make him dance!’ I said.

  Johnno sat up reluctantly. ‘Dance, Spike!’ he said.

  We waited for ages. Nothing happened.

  Then Spike sighed and flattened himself down even further on the mattress.

  ‘He’s saving his performance for the fete,’ said Johnno.

  As if I was going to believe that!

  I jumped out of bed. ‘Get dressed!’ I said to Johnno. ‘We need to whip up an act and practise it now or we’re stuffed!’

  But then Dad came in. He looked as tired as I felt.

  ‘Rise and shine, boys!’ he said. ‘I want to drop you two off at the fete early, just in case Mum needs to go to the Nursing Post again.’

  My stomach dropped. What a mess! It was too late now to do anything more for the show. And maybe Mum had been up all night because she was feeling really sick. ‘Is Mum okay, Dad?’ I asked.

  ‘Two full nights without sleep, Charlie!’ he said. ‘That would send anyone bonkers. Now, come on, boys, let’s go!’

  Johnno and me got dressed. Then Johnno grabbed his backpack and went to wait for me out the front while I headed outside into the backyard.

  I climbed up the gum tree and took my last dollar-fifty out of my saving sock. Then I went back inside the house, put Spike on his lead and walked him out to the car.

  So much for Spike the Dancing Dingo, I thought. The pup’s only danced once in his life so far and he might never dance again!

  Sharni and Tia were going to walk down to the fete later with some of their friends, so there was only Mum, Dad, me, Johnno and Spike in the car. Mum’s green hair was covered by Dad’s bush hat. Her rash was worse. Especially the lump on the end of her nose. It was starting to curve up like a banana!

  Dad dropped us at the school gates. ‘Johnno, tell your mum I’ll be back to help her out with the sausage sizzle as soon as I can,’ he said.

  ‘Sure, Uncle Jim!’

  Dad and Mum drove off to the Nursing Post.

  I was shaking with fear when me and Johnno entered the school grounds. Our classmates knew we had signed up for a stall. But we had nothing to sell. Nothing!

  ‘What are we going to do, Charlie?’ said Johnno.

  ‘How do I know?’

  ‘Butch can only whistle the national anthem,’ he said. ‘We learned it in class last year. Perhaps we could sing it?’

  I didn’t bother to reply. It was a stupid idea. The national anthem had a crappy tune, I could only remember the first line, and no one would pay to hear us sing anyway!

  I was amazed by the number of people who had already set up their stalls. There were all kinds of things for sale—different types of bush food, old car parts, second-hand goods, artwork, tools, books, craftwork, balloons and lots of other stuff.

  It’d be a fun day if I wasn’t in such a horrible pickle!

  We went in search of Aunty June, Johnno’s mum. Aunty had set her stall up on the paved area near the headmaster’s office.

  Guess who else was close by?

  Tim! His stall was a few metres in front of and off to one side from Aunty June’s. He was only one table away from the junky old sports shed the teachers hadn’t finished demolishing yet.

  ‘Crumbs, I wouldn’t want to get any closer to that shed,’ I whispered to Johnno. ‘I bet it’s spider heaven in there.’

  Johnno wasn’t listening. ‘Look, Charlie,’ he said. ‘There’s Butch!’

  The birdcage was sitting on Tim’s table. So was a sign that said:

  BUTCH

  THE WORLD’S BEST SWEARING

  BIRD!

  50 CENTS A TURN

  Loads of kids were already crowding around to hear Butch swear!

  ‘You boys want breakfast?’ Aunty said. ‘Some of these sausages are nearly cooked.’

  Aunty June loves feeding people. She handed us each a sausage in a bun and we quickly gobbled it down.

  I saved a bit of my sausage for Spike. I was desperately hoping I could get him to dance during the show.

  ‘Uncle Jim had to go to the Nursing Post with Aunty Shirl,’ Johnno told his mum. ‘But he’s coming to give you a hand in a bit.’

  ‘Charlie,’ said Aunty June, ‘is your mum any better? She rang me last night. It was quite hard to understand what she was saying.’

  ‘Not really, Aunty,’ I said.

  ‘What an awful time she’s having,’ said Aunty June. ‘I hope you’re going to cheer her up on her birthday.’

  I hoped so, too!

  Johnno tugged my arm. ‘Be back in a minute!’ he said. Then he ducked over to Tim’s stall.

  I was shocked when I saw him hand over fifty cents. Butch and Tim were our competition!

  ‘Bumface!’ screeched Butch, dancing along his perch.

  Johnno came back, laughing himself silly. ‘I love that bird!’ he said.

  ‘You idiot,’ I said. ‘You could’ve paid me to swear at you for fifty cents!’

  Johnno told me it wouldn’t be the same.

  Mrs Wilson spotted us and came over. ‘There you are, boys!’ she said. ‘I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Charlie. That’s your table over there.’

  Oh great! We were stuck with the empty table between Tim’s stall and the spidery old sports shed.

  ‘Now,’ said Mrs Wilson, holding up a raffle book, ‘each table has to buy a raffle ticket.’

  What?

  ‘They’re still only fifty cents each,’ Mrs Wilson went on, ‘which is excellent value! You might be surprised if you win. An unexpected last minute donation is coming in.’

  Oh yeah? I thought, What is it—five tins of beetroot?

  ‘We don’t know quite what it will be yet,’ said Mrs Wilson. ‘But my brother rang from Perth to say his business partner was making a donation to the school to help us raise money. Isn’t that wonderful?’

  Mrs Wilson had told our class her brother was a butcher, so I guessed his business partner was, too. The donation was probably a frozen chook.

  I reckoned that was worth the money, so I pulled the fifty-cent coin out of my pocket. The bit of sausage I’d been saving fell out, too. Before I could grab it, Spike ate it! So much for using it to get him to dance.

  ‘Write your name here, please,’ said Mrs Wils
on.

  Quickly I scribbled on the ticket stub. Mrs Wilson handed me my ticket. ‘Well, good luck, Charlie!’ she said.

  Good luck? Haa! All I’d had so far was bad luck. Maybe the dream I’d had in class hadn’t been a good sign after all.

  Just then Dad rocked up and got busy putting more wood under the barbecue plate. Mum sat down nearby in a folding chair, nibbling half-heartedly on a sausage and looking like a freaked-out zombie.

  ‘Poor Aunty Shirl looks worse,’ Johnno whispered.

  I would have thought that was impossible, but it was true! Worried, I went over to see her.

  ‘Are you okay, Mum?’ I said.

  Mum nodded.

  ‘Did the nurse give you some better medicine for your rash?’

  She nodded again, then waved the sausage in front of her face like it was a fan.

  ‘Do you want me to move your chair to a shadier spot?’ I said.

  ‘Don’t bother your mum, Charlie,’ Dad sang out. ‘She’s just had an injection. I don’t think it’s kicked in properly yet, so she’s not feeling too good.’

  Poor Mum! Tomorrow was her birthday. I was running out of time to make things up to her!

  Johnno and me left Mum and went over to look at our table.

  We had nothing to set up, like the other stalls did. I had no idea what we were going to do, but I hoped that if I just stood behind the table, I’d think of something! It wasn’t much of a plan but it was the best I had.

  Then Johnno surprised me. ‘I brought some things,’ he said, unzipping his bag. He pulled out our two old cordial cups from the night before and put them on the table. Then he put his open bag on the floor, like a busker’s hat.

  ‘What am I supposed to do with those?’ I said, nodding at the cups.

  Johnno said he thought I could use my imagination and come up with something.

  ‘Oh look,’ he went on, ‘there’s something else, Charlie!’ He bent down, picked up a small stone and put that on the table, too.

  I stared at Johnno, speechless.

 

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