by Maggi Gibson
‘But you didn’t get six hundred and seventy-five pounds!’ Pip exclaims. ‘Look!’ Excitedly, she waves a piece of pale blue paper in my face.
‘What?’ I grab the paper from Pip and stare at it, bemused. ‘B-But how?’ I stammer, shocked. Cos in my hand is a cheque for a thousand pounds!
‘Look at the name.’ Mum grins, pointing to the bottom right-hand corner.
‘“Mrs Peggy Miller”,’ I read slowly, still not quite able to take it in.
‘Peggy says you and your friends gave her the best birthday party she’s ever had,’ Mum explains, ‘so she wanted to make a special donation to the benefit fund.’
Stunned, I stare at the towers of money, the thousand-pound cheque. But I don’t see money. I see kindness and thoughtfulness and generosity. And I know it will help people whose homes have been destroyed in the earthquake – and mean so much to Taslima. Suddenly, I can’t hold the tears back any more. They come streaming down my face.
‘Oh dear, Sassy,’ Mum says anxiously. ‘What’s wrong, honey?’
‘Nothing,’ I sob. ‘I’m sorry … sniff sniff … I can’t help it … sniff sniff … I’m just so happy!’
35
Yay! Guess where I am?
Taslima’s house! For our Friday night sleepover.
On Wednesday when I got home from school, Taslima and Mrs Ankhar were sitting at the kitchen table with Mum. As soon as I walked in, Tas rushed over and hugged me really tight. ‘We got back last night,’ she explained, her hair lank, her eyes dark-shadowed. ‘So we’re a bit jet-lagged … but Mum wanted to speak to you as soon as possible.’
‘What you’ve done is wonderful.’ Mrs Ankhar said quietly, holding up a copy of the Strathcarron Chronicle with the headline SASSY ROCKS STRATHCARRON FOR EARTHQUAKE APPEAL. ‘And this morning Taslima insisted I watch that clip of you at the Wiccaman festival again –’
‘Yeah, with the sound up this time!’ Taslima giggled.
‘I owe you an apology, Sassy,’ Mrs Ankhar said. ‘I was wrong in thinking you might be a bad influence on Taslima. You’re exactly the kind of girl she should be friends with.’
Tas invited Megan to tonight’s sleepover too, cos after sleeping rough in Pakistan – sometimes with as many as ten people in one tent – Mrs Ankhar realized it’s silly to be so strict about numbers. Having good friends is what’s important, she says now, so she no longer has a no-more-than-two-friends-at-a-time sleepover party rule.
‘It’s a shame Megan couldn’t come,’ I say, as we tuck into some lovely treats Mrs Ankhar has made especially for us.
‘I think it’s great she’s going to Sindi-Sue’s for a Pink Pamper Pillow Party,’ Taslima says thoughtfully. ‘Sounds like they’re best buds now.’
‘Yeah, I think they are.’ Cordelia lazily licks a blob of sticky icing from her fingers.
‘I guess since I’ve been away Sindi-Sue’s become part of our big friendship circle too,’ Tas says happily.
‘And Magnus and Beano and Twig,’ Cordelia giggles. ‘But I’m glad it’s just the three of us tonight. Our special, magical friendship triangle.’
‘I missed you so much when you weren’t around, Tas,’ I mumble through a mouthful of sweet samosa. ‘And I was so worried about you. I was scared something awful might have happened –’
‘OK!’ Taslima says, leaping up. ‘Enough of all this soppy emotional stuff. Time for a DVD! So what are we going to watch first? Cordelia’s Corpses on the Run or my brand-new Moonstruck in Mumbai?’
‘Moonstruck in Mumbai!’ me and Cordelia shout, then we Bollywood dance round the room, wiggling our hips and twirling our wrists and making big romantic eyes at each other.
By the time we’ve watched both DVDs – and eaten all the delish treats – we’re pretty sleepy so, as the final credits roll up on Corpses on the Run, Cordelia gropes for the remote control and flicks the DVD player and TV off.
‘Sassy,’ Taslima whispers into the darkness. ‘Have you heard anything more from Phoenix?’
‘Nah,’ I say quietly as I snuggle deeper into my sleeping bag. ‘I mean, he’s lovely, and it was really sweet of him to come to the gig. Oh, and to give me an advance copy of his CD.’
‘And he did kiss you …’ Tas murmurs sleepily. ‘And you said it was really special.’
‘Yeah, it was. But let’s face it, a whole week’s passed since then. So I guess it wasn’t quite so special for him,’ I sigh. ‘Like he said, he was just passing through Strathcarron on the way to the airport.’
‘Hmph!’ Cordelia snorts. ‘Nobody just passes through Strathcarron!’
‘Well, whatever his reason for coming to our concert last week, he’s in New York now. He’s gonna be a big star. It’s sad, but I have to be realistic about it – I’ll probably never hear from him again –’
‘Actually, Sass,’ Cordelia interrupts, and I swear I see her green eyes flash in the dark, ‘I’ve got this hunch you’re gonna hear from him soon … v-e-r-r-r-y … s-o-o-n …’
I’m almost asleep, thinking about how crazy the past few weeks have been, and how glad I am that it’ll be the school hols soon so I can get a bit of a rest, and how maybe a dream boyfriend is the best kind to have, rather than the real kind – when my mobile rings.
‘Ouch!’ Cordelia squeaks as I grope for it in the dark.
Taslima scrabbles to put the light on. Frantically, with lots of giggling and squealing we rummage under pillows and duvets and shorts and skirts and tops and socks and I’m thinking Oh no! I’m never going to find it in time, when Cordelia tugs it out from inside a shoe, presses Answer and chucks it across the room to me.
‘Hi! Sassy here!’ I say breathlessly.
‘Hi,’ says a distant voice. ‘I haven’t called at a bad time, have I? I mean, it’s just after seven here in New York. It’s not too late there is it?’
‘Course it’s not too late,’ I say, as my heart does a ra-ra cheerleader dance, complete with high-kicks, waving pom-poms and cartwheels, and Taslima and Cordelia make silly love-struck faces at me.
‘In fact,’ I giggle, ‘it’s just perfect.’
The Prime Minister
The Parliament of Australia
Parliament House
Canberra ACT 2600 Australia
Dear Sassy Wilde (aged 13),
Re: Your Killer Sheep Query
Thank you for your recent letter expressing your concerns about the volume of methane gas emitted from the digestive tracts of Australian sheep.
I can assure you that I do indeed take this issue very seriously. After all, I have to live here and 120 million sheep releasing emissions day and night can make the atmosphere somewhat pongy.
You will no doubt be pleased to know that as a result of your letter, my government is considering following the example of our neighbour, New Zealand, and imposing what is known as a f**t-tax on sheep farmers. Unfortunately, the farmers are not at all happy with this idea.
I have seen clips of you singing on the Internet and I’m a big fan. I would therefore like to invite you here to sing to our sheep farmers and convince them of the dangers of global warming.
Of course, I could not expect an eco-warrior like yourself to fly all the way to Australia – think of all those carbon emissions! And I realize it will take you some time to travel here by ecologically friendly means.
Do let me know when you arrive. I might even still be alive, though given my great age and the time it will take you, I may have, as you say, ‘popped my clogs’ and be grazing on the Big Sheep Farm in the sky.
Bon Voyage!
The Prime Minister of Australia
LAST TRACK
Crazy Karma
You’d better watch out
Whatever you do
Cos good or bad it’s comin’ back to you.
Karma’s a boomerang – you reap what you sow;
It follows you around wherever you go.
So next time you’re thinking you just want to snap,
Hold on to your tongue – cos karma snaps back.
Karma’s a boomerang – you reap what you sow;
It follows you around wherever you go.
And if you get the chance to do something nice,
No need to hesitate, no need to think twice –
Always try to make our world a better place to be
And good things will come back to you – ee-ven-tu-all-ee!
THANK YOU to …
Maggi would like to thank all those who helped CRAZY DAYS. Her brilliant editor, Amanda, and her wonderful agent, Caroline. Hennie for the cool artwork and Sarah for the design. Jennie, Jessica Tania and Emily for being wonderful Puffins. Ian, Keira and Hazel for reading early drafts and coming up with fantastic ideas. Cathy for being a fab best bud. And a special big THANK YOU to all the SASSY GANG members who send such inspiring emails!
1 Cordelia taught me how. All teeth. No eye involvement. Hold for half a second max. Use sparingly and only on boys who deserve it!
2 Hurricane Plus
3 Midge claims he’s descended from leprechauns on his dad’s side. Which, Tas says, would explain his restricted growth. And his inability to keep out of trouble.
4 A double maths
5 Tas is always quiet – so unnaturally quiet is a pretty freaky state.
6 Not that I want my tummy tickled! No way!
7 How on earth did she know I was there? Freaky!
8 Though it probably is somewhere. After all, the Hindu New Year’s in March!
9 And maybe even meeting up with a Twig butterfly!
10 Ooops! Just discovered what that is. Maybe not …
11 I’m trying so hard, but the truth is it HURTS every time I think of it. Sob sob.
12 I have no idea what a coot is. Maybe coots go around saying, ‘He’s bald as a Smollett.’ Who knows?
13 Wide eyes, raised eyebrows, puckered lips.
14 Which she probably has!
15 It’s true. Sindi-Sue’s karaoke is to die for – literally.
16 Or maybe they have. Must check the night sky tonight!
17 A new and not very nice experience!
18 I so wish Taslima was around. Surely talking out loud to yourself must be an early sign of madness!!!
19 Buddhist monk dude from Tibet. Non-violent. Spends his whole life spreading good karma.
20 Pip has started up a new design-a-sign business. She actually got Dad to PAY for making signs for all the rooms in our house. My room’s now The Pig Pen. Hers is The Pink Palace.
21 I learned that from Tas. It’s Latin for ‘way of doing things’.
22 Maybe she does have magic powers?!
23 Cordelia’s idea. Try it! It’s kinda cool.
24 Brewster, that is. Not Twig.
25 Ancient Chinese philosopher. Said lots of wise things. Though maybe not that!
26 Aaargh! Freaky thought!
27 Most of Pip’s pants are coloured: sizzling pink, wicked red, luminous lime. This is Pip’s ONLY white pair. And very frilly!
28 Don’t knock it until you try it – it works!
29 The first ever big summer music festival in 1969. Can you believe it, Mum’s friend Cathy was actually THERE!
