Weirdest Show on Earth

by Barry Hutchison

  “I don’t believe it!” said Mum. Along the street, Mrs Green’s lips moved in perfect time with Mum’s words. “What’s she doing here?”

  “Same as you, probably,” I said.

  At that, Mum’s eyes darted to a house halfway along the road.

  “Come on, Dylan!” she hissed, breaking into a run, and looking completely ridiculous as she clopped along in her high heels.

  Mrs Green broke into some undignified lumbering of her own, as both she and Mum raced towards Mr Lawson’s house.

  “Well this is humiliating,” I muttered, swinging the bag on to my back and trudging after Mum.

  By the time I caught up with her, she was right outside Mr Lawson’s garden, standing nose to nose with Mrs Green. They both had a hand on the front gate, and were taking it in turns to push and pull it, so the gate hadn’t moved an inch.

  “What are you doing, Claire?” hissed Mrs Green. “Let go.”

  “You let go, Helen. I’m just here to say hello to Mr Lawson,” growled Mum.

  “Oh, really? Well, that’s a coincidence, because so am I!”

  “I was here first!”

  “No, I was!”

  Evie walked over and stood beside me as our mums continued to argue. “All right?” she said.

  “Been better, to be honest,” I admitted. “Think they’ll start fighting?”

  “I hope not,” said Evie. “Didn’t you say your mum was a tae kwon do champion?”

  I smiled. “Probably. She isn’t, though. She thinks tae kwon do is the name of a Korean gymnast.”

  Evie laughed. “Funny.”

  “It’s true!” I said.

  “My mum thinks ‘kung fu’ is a type of Chinese food,” Evie said. “Whenever we get a takeaway she asks for the kung-fu chicken.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know, right?” Evie grinned. “She refused to let me watch Kung Fu Panda because she thought the panda got eaten at the end.”

  I laughed so loudly that both Mum and Mrs Green’s heads snapped in our direction. For a moment they stared at us disapprovingly, then they got stuck straight back into arguing.

  “I don’t even know why you put yourself forward,” Mum spat. “You missed half the meetings last year.”

  “How would you know? You were never there!” yelled Mrs Green.

  “How dare you? I’ve literally given my blood, sweat and tears for the PTA!” snapped Mum.

  I leaned closer to Evie and whispered, “As well as not knowing what tae kwon do is, my mum also doesn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘literally’.”

  “Oh yes?” shrieked Mrs Green. “Well, I’ve literally given my whole life to it!”

  “Nor does mine,” said Evie.

  The front door to Mr Lawson’s house opened. In a flash, Mum and Mrs Green transformed their scowls into warm smiles, expecting to see Mr Lawson standing there.

  Instead, it was Wayne. “D’you mind keeping the noise down?” he said, scowling.

  “Ah, Wayne!” said Mum.

  “Lovely Wayne!” added Mrs Green.

  “Is your dad in?” they both asked at once.

  Wayne shook his head. “Nah. He’s visiting my brother.”

  “In prison,” I added helpfully.

  “Oh,” said Mrs Green.

  “Right,” said Mum.

  They both pushed for the gate and spoke at the same time. “Well, maybe I could just leave this leaflet?”

  It was then that I noticed Wayne was holding something in his right hand, down at his side. As Mum and Mrs Green shoved and cajoled each other along the path, he raised his arm and took aim and I saw what it was – a garden hose.

  A spray of water shot from the nozzle, blasting both mums in the face and upper body. They screamed and wailed, flailing their arms in front of themselves as they stumbled backwards, shouting, “Stop!” and “Cut it out!” and “My new shoes!” in increasingly desperate tones.

  Wayne released the trigger and the water stopped.

  “Whoops, sorry,” he said. He lowered his arm and pointed the nozzle at a potted plant on the doorstep. “I was trying to water this. It accidentally went off in my hand.”

  He gave the plant the briefest of squirts, nodded once in my and Evie’s direction, then closed the door. Mum and Mrs Green hurried out of the garden, frantically drying their faces on their sleeves and smearing make-up everywhere in the process. Evie and I stared at them for a few seconds, open-mouthed with shock, then erupted in fits of laughter.

  “Why are you laughing? It’s not funny!” cried Mum.

  “It’s hilarious!” I said.

  “We’re completely drenched!” Mrs Green yelped.

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much nailed why we’re laughing,” Evie giggled.

  “Come on, you must see the funny side!” I said.

  From the expression on their faces, though, it quickly became clear that they didn’t see the funny side. At all.

  Our laughter fizzled out and I quietly cleared my throat. “Or, y’know, maybe you don’t,” I said.

  Mrs Green glared at me.

  Mum glared at Evie.

  “Come on, Dylan. We’re leaving,” Mum said.

  “Yes, come away, Evie,” said Mrs Green, beckoning Evie to her side. “I can see we’re going to have to be more careful about the company you keep.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” said Mum. “Here, Dylan. Now.”

  Evie shot me a glance. “Uh, I guess I’ll see you at—”

  “No time for chit-chat, Evie,” said Mrs Green.

  Evie rolled her eyes, then gave me a wave. I waved back, then yelped as Mum caught me by the arm and started marching me off along the street. “I think it’d be best if you don’t hang around with that girl any more,” said Mum.

  “That girl is my friend!” I protested.

  Mum shook her head. “It’s like that old saying – ‘The daughter of my enemy is my enemy.’”

  “But Mrs Green isn’t my enemy! She’s your enemy, for some reason.”

  “Well, it’s like that other old saying, then – ‘The daughter of my mother’s enemy is my enemy.’”

  “That’s not a saying,” I said.

  “It is now,” said Mum, releasing my arm and squelching off ahead of me. “In fact, I might even get it put on a poster.”

  “Yep,” I whispered, shoving my hands into my pockets and following her. “She’s finally lost her mind.”

  Next morning I stood in the garden, yawning and trying to remember how my eyes worked. Destructo sat on the grass in front of me, his head cocked quizzically to one side. Beside him was my bike, propped up against the side of the bin.

  “Come on, it’s riding a bike,” I muttered, wiping the crusts of sleep from my eyes. “It’s not rocket science!”

  By the time we’d got home last night and had all listened to Mum ranting about Mrs Green, Evie, Wayne and anything else that came to mind, it was too late to start Destructo’s training. Instead I set my alarm for 5 a.m., thinking I could spend half an hour or so showing Destructo the basics of riding a bike, then leave him practising while I went in and had breakfast.

  In the cold light of day – although technically it was still pretty dark – I could see it wouldn’t be quite so simple. The only interest Destructo had shown in the bike so far was right after I’d propped it up, when he’d peed on the pedals.

  I pointed to the saddle. “On,” I instructed, in what I hoped was a commanding tone. “On the bike. Get on. Get on the bike. Bike. On. Get. The. Oh, come on!”

  For the third time since I’d come outside, I took hold of the handlebars and ordered Destructo to watch closely. He wagged his tail as I very deliberately swung my leg over the bar and slid back on to the saddle.

  “See? Easy. I’ve been able to do this since I was six!”

  I hopped off and pointed to the saddle again. “Your turn.”

  Destructo didn’t move.

  “Right, fine,” I sighed, reaching into my p
ocket. “Will you do it for a biscuit?”

  I brought out the bone-shaped dog-treat. Destructo immediately snatched it from my fingers and swallowed it whole. He sat down again, eyeing my pocket expectantly and licking his chops.

  “Going well?”

  I turned to find Jodie standing on the back step, a mug in her hand.

  “Not really,” I admitted.

  “Yeah, didn’t think so,” she said. “By the way, you know Mum said I’d do all your chores for a fortnight?”

  I grinned. “Oh yes!”

  “Yeah, not happening,” said Jodie.

  “But…”

  Jodie gave me the evil eye.

  “OK, fair enough,” I muttered, then I turned back to Destructo, who was busy licking his foot. “I don’t understand it. Why won’t he get on the bike?” I asked.

  “Um, because he’s a dog?” Jodie suggested. “They’re actually pretty renowned for not getting on bikes.”

  “I even tried to bribe him with one of these,” I said, taking another biscuit from my pocket. Destructo immediately jumped up and gobbled it. “That does it,” I said. “I’m lifting him on.”

  “Good luck with that,” said Jodie.

  I tried to wrap my arms round Destructo but my hands didn’t quite meet in the middle. “Right, I’ll just…” I grunted, trying to get a proper hold on him. “Maybe this way will…”

  An enormous pink tongue slobbered inside my ear. “Aah! Cut it out!” I said, turning to try to heave him over my shoulder. I felt a sudden rustling in my pocket and looked down to find Destructo wolfing down the rest of the biscuits.

  “Hey, get off!” I said, putting him down. Destructo crunched happily on his stolen treats.

  “Well?” asked Jodie. “How did that go, do you think?”

  “It could’ve gone better,” I admitted.

  “Still, at least he didn’t try to eat the bike.”

  There was a bang as Destructo sunk his teeth into the front wheel.

  I sighed. “He’s trying to eat the bike.”

  “Destructo, no!” said Jodie.

  Destructo immediately stopped chewing on the tyre and lay down, looking guilty.

  “He listens to you. You have to help me,” I said.

  “Not happening,” said Jodie. She took another sip and peered at me over the rim of her mug. “By the way, how are you feeling about Mum banning you from talking to Evie?” she asked.

  “Hmm?” I mumbled, playing for time as my fingers quietly snuck into my pocket – the one that wasn’t currently filled with crumbs and dog slobber.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Jodie said.

  “Who, Mum?”

  “Evie!”

  “Oh. As I told Theo, yes, she has many fine qualities,” I said.

  “No, I mean you really like her.”

  At that, I whipped out my gobstopper and crammed it in my mouth.

  Jodie grinned and started to sing. “Beaky’s got a girlfriend, Beaky’s got a girlfriend.”

  “Nngg, ayf dmnt!”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Jodie said. She shrugged, then went back inside, leaving me with Destructo.

  “Famps fr yu elp,” I said, then I spat the gobstopper into its bag and shoved it back in my pocket.

  I gazed down at Destructo. He looked back up at me, his tongue hanging out.

  “This could be even harder than I thought,” I said. I tossed him the last of the biscuit crumbs and headed inside for breakfast.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of bleary eyes and yawning. Unsurprisingly it turns out that I don’t cope well with getting up at 5 a.m., and I fell asleep in English (once), geography (twice) and modern studies (the whole period).

  Luckily Theo woke me up each time by kicking me hard on the shin under the desk. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Apart from have fewer bruises, I mean.

  In the afternoon, we were let out of lessons for the second play rehearsal. Everyone was already up on stage by the time Theo and I made it to the hall. Evie grinned when she saw us. I smiled back, even though I was half-expecting Mum to come running out from behind the stage curtains to tell me off.

  Ms Brannan shrieked theatrically and did a little dance to celebrate our arrival. “Aha! And with that, our company is once more complete,” she said, sweeping her arm in front of her and bowing low. “M’lords.”

  “Er … all right?” I said, sidestepping past her and running up the stairs at the side of the stage.

  “Before we start our rehearsal,” said Ms Brannan, “there are a couple of things I want to talk about. One – ticket sales. They went on sale yesterday and they are being snapped up! They are flying.”

  I let out a groan. “Seriously? You mean people are actually going to come and see me doing this?”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like performing, it was just that the rumours about me and Evie had started doing the rounds through the whole school (I blamed Theo) and being the romantic lead opposite her was… Well, it was going to be embarrassing. The fewer people who saw the play, the better.

  “Oh yes, indeedy!” said Ms Brannan. “We’ve sold almost three so far!”

  Chloe, who was standing at the back of the stage and scrolling through her phone, looked up. “Almost three?” Her lips moved silently, like she was counting in her head. “So … two?”

  “Yes! Which isn’t half bad!”

  “It’s not great, either, is it?” I asked. “Although the fewer the merrier, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “We’ve still got a few days until curtain up. There’s plenty of time for sales to pick up,” the teacher insisted. “Anyway, thing numero two. We need to pick out costumes. Dylan, Evie, why don’t you go below stage and see what you can find.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Sorry?”

  “You and Evie. Pop below the stage and bring up the costume box.”

  I looked at Evie, then stared at the stage floor, as if I could see through it with X-ray vision.

  “Together?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Me and Evie?” I said.

  “Yes! Is there a problem?”

  I looked to Theo for help but he just grinned back at me and rocked on his heels.

  Evie jumped down off the stage and landed with an echoing thunk on the hall’s wooden floor. She drummed her hands on the front of the stage and looked up at me. “You coming?”

  I slowly descended the steps until I was standing next to her.

  “Um…”

  “Wait!” said Chloe, looking up from her phone again. “What’s happening?”

  “They’re going to get costumes,” said Duncan. It was rare that he worked up the courage to speak but I realized Wayne was nowhere to be seen, so that explained it.

  Chloe barged to the front of the stage.

  “Over my dead body. They’re not choosing the costumes – I am,” she said.

  “It’s fine, Chloe, we—” Evie began, before being abruptly cut off.

  “Uh, hello? Costume designer,” Chloe said, pointing to herself.

  “Wardrobe assistant,” Ms Brannan corrected.

  “Same thing,” said Chloe, waving a hand dismissively in the teacher’s direction. “And as the costume designer, I’m not having you two picking your own outfits. Beaky, you go down and bring up all the costumes you can find. I’ll handle everything from there.”

  Evie shrugged. “Fine,” she said, opening the little door at the front of the stage.

  “Not you,” said Chloe. “You need to stay here so we can think about what we’re doing with your make-up.”

  “I don’t think we need worry too much about that yet,” said Ms Brannan.

  “Seriously, Miss?” Chloe said. “Have you seen her face? No offence, Evie. We need to establish a colour scheme, run greasepaint tests, decide if we’re shaving her head…”

  “We’re definitely not,” said Evie.

  “We’ll talk about that later,” said Chloe. “As the make-up artist—“
/>   “Wardrobe assistant.”

  “Whatever. As the make-up artist, it’s my job to worry about this stuff.” She studied Evie’s face and sucked air in through her teeth. “And I am worried. Still, at least you’re playing an alien. You should suit that. No offence, Evie.”

  “None taken,” said Evie. “Well, maybe a bit.”

  “No, I don’t mean it like that,” said Chloe. “I mean, you’re beautiful. In your own way. Gorgeous. In your own way. Isn’t she, Beaky?”

  Everyone turned to look at me except Evie, who blushed a little and took a sudden interest in the ceiling.

  My mouth flapped open and closed. “I … uh … I … uh …”

  There was no time to grab for my gobstopper. Ducking low, I hurled myself through the door in the front of the stage, fell down some steps and landed on a large mattress. Unfortunately it was a prop mattress made of wood, so it hurt quite a lot.

  “Are you OK, Dylan?” asked Ms Brannan, thrusting her head through the doorway. From my position, flat on my back, I managed a shaky thumbs up. “What on Earth did you do that for?”

  I answered honestly – as ever – but in a way that avoided embarrassing myself further. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, Miss.”

  “Do you want some help?”

  “No!” I spluttered. I scrambled to my feet. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Right you are,” Ms Brannan said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  She backed out of the doorway and I turned to survey the under-stage area. The ceiling wasn’t quite so low that I had to duck, but low enough that I found myself ducking anyway, just in case.