by Pat Flynn
PAT FLYNN grew up running around an old dairy farm in Queensland, before moving to the Australian Institute of Sport in Canberra on a tennis scholarship. After playing and coaching on the professional circuit he became a teacher, where his observations of young people – their interests and stories – led him to writing a book.
Now he writes books for a living, in a house near the beach on the Sunshine Coast. He likes to start the day off with a surf and end it walking along the beach with his wife and son.
His novel, To the Light, was shorlisted for the 2006 CBCA Awards in the Younger Readers category.
Other books by Pat Flynn
Younger Reader
Alex Jackson: Dropping In
To the Light
The Tuckshop Kid
Beeware: Adventures of Danny Book 1
Young Adult Fiction
Alex Jackson: Grommet
Alex Jackson: SWA
Alex Jackson: Closing Out
The Line Formation
To my real brother and sisters:
Marty, Carmel and Liz.
Contents
Cover Page
Author bio
Other books by Pat Flynn
Title page
Dedication
Part 1 – A Shark Stole My Pants
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Part 2 – Mad Magpie
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Part 3 – To Bee or not to Bee
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Part 4 – Stupid Mozzie!
Chapter 1
Part 5 – A Dog Named Killer
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Imprint Page
1
Chapter 1
Tommy stands in the river, his hand held high.
‘Ready … Go!’ he yells, his falling arm setting off an explosion of watery blobs.
My cousin Chris springs to the lead, wading through the waist-deep river like a giant running in slow motion.
His sister, Natalie, disappears beneath the murky surface. When she pops up she’s right on Chris’s tail, and then she vanishes again.
I’m coming third, and I’ve never wanted to win anything as much in my life. My way is to swim like an Olympian, pretending I’m a cross between Ian Thorpe and Grant Hackett. Ian Hackett, I decide, or maybe Grant Thorpe? Whoever’s faster.
And coming up behind is Tommy, my big brother. He gives us a head start as he’s tall enough to run, his high knees splashing brown water.
In front of us, floating quickly with the current, is the prize were chasing. If I can hold that prize in my hand I’ll be the happiest boy in the world, and it’ll be worth more to me than a stick made of gold.
What we’re chasing is a stick made of wood.
A shriek cuts through the air like a wounded cat. It’s Chris – who stops to examine his left foot while hopping up and down on his right. Knowing this river he could have stepped on anything – a rock, a bone, even an eel – but I don’t slow down to find out if he’s all right. Instead I sail past and think, I’m coming second!
Natalie must’ve swallowed some of the mucky river, because the next time she pops up she’s coughing like an asthmatic. I put on an extra spurt and overtake her, the current pushing me towards the stick.
Yes! I’m in first place!
Because my sister Katy is too little, she doesn’t play. She acts as a one-person cheer squad, willing me on to certain victory.
‘Go!’ she cries.
I’m going, I think.
‘Go, Tommy!’
I consider grabbing a handful of muddy river bottom and throwing it at her, but I don’t have time. I can hear Tommy’s big feet splashing up behind.
I’m now so close to the stick I can see its bumps and blotches, so close I can almost reach out and grab it.
‘Hey!’ I yell.
Someone has reached out and grabbed me.
‘Stop that!’ I say.
It’s Tommy, who’s holding on to the back of my togs. I swivel my hips to try and escape but he’s too strong. He’s laughing, which makes me even madder, but no matter how much I squirm and struggle I can’t get away.
Then, clear as the summer sky, I know what I have to do. If I dive forward I’ll slip out of my togs, and out of Tommy’s grasp. The only trouble is, I’ll be naked. I hesitate, not liking this idea very much, especially not in front of my cousins.
I try yelling once more: ‘Let go of me!’
Tommy does. He spins me around like one of those hammer-throwing dudes and flings me upstream. Luckily for my limbs I land in water, but it doesn’t stop me getting a giant wedgie.
When I surface, I see Tommy holding the stick high in the air.
‘Yay!’ Katy yells.
‘So unfair!’ I cry. ‘I would’ve won!’
‘Danny’s a sook! Danny’s a sook!’ chants Katy.
I reach down and grab a handful of muddy river bottom and let it fly in the direction of my annoying little sister.
Chapter 2
After getting pelted with mud, sand and water by Tommy and my cousins for accidentally chucking mud in Katy’s face and making her cry, I sulk. I hate them all: Tommy for beating me, Katy for being her annoying self, and my cousins for being so good at throwing stuff. Chris lobbed a mud grenade that exploded in my ear.
I retreat to my own corner of the river where I can forget their silly chase-the-stick game and enjoy nature. Then a mosquito bites me and I decide I need something to do, so I can forget nature.
I think up a game. I’ll let something float down the river and then catch it. It’ll be a bit like the game I played with the others, except this game will be better because I’ll win. Every time.
I look around but can’t find any sticks. There are a few rocks but they don’t float so good. Then I have an idea. I’ll use my pants.
I slip off my togs, let them go under the water, and quickly catch them again before the current can take them too far. And because the river is so murky no one sees what I’m doing, which is the best part. It’s like having a secret that nobody knows but me. It’s also kind of fun to be swimming in a river without pants – like I’m free.
As my confidence grows, so does the distance I let my togs travel. For my grand finale, I decide on a five-metre super catch. My hands are cupped, ready to make the grab, when Natalie yells, ‘SNAKE!’
I’m only distracted for a second – Natalie’s smiling face makes me realise it was a trick – but by that time the shorts have slipped through my fingers like a greasy pig. I waddle up the river looking for them, my hands combing the bottom.
But it’s like trying to find a four-leaf clover. All I drag up are rocks, mud and a rotting log. After a few minutes I know it’s hopeless, that they’re gone forever.
‘Okay, time to get out,’ says Tommy.
I start to panic.
‘Just a bit longer,’ I say.
None of the others know that beneath the brown surface lies a naked me. I need a few more minutes to come up with a plan.
‘No,’ says Tommy. ‘We’re late already.’
I hate how big brothers are always in charge.
I have no idea what to do. In about five seconds I’m going to have to walk up the bank without any pants on! And the worse thing is I didn’t even bring a towel. If only I could think up a –
Ouch! A sand fly bites my arm. And then it hits me like a mud bomb, the best idea I’ve ever had in my whol
e life.
‘AAHHH!’ I scream.
Everybody looks at me.
‘Something just grabbed my togs and ripped them off. With its teeth!’ I yell.
‘Yeah, good one,’ says Tommy. ‘Just get out, will ya.’
‘I’m serious. It’s taken my togs. It’s swum away with ’em. I think it was a small shark or something.’
‘What?’ asks Chris.
‘A shark!’ I scream, using my best acting voice that’ll probably turn me into a movie star one day. ‘It’s ripped off my pants!’
‘Wow!’ says Katy. ‘That’s amazing!’
‘How big was it?’ asks Natalie.
I hold out my hands as wide as possible.
‘I can’t wait to tell my friends at school,’ she says.
‘I wish a shark would steal my boardies,’ says Chris. ‘That’d be wicked.’
Tommy doesn’t say anything.
As for me, I can hardly believe it.
My plan has actually worked!
Chapter 3
All the way home – with a t-shirt wrapped around my waist like a skirt – I answer questions about the shark.
‘What did it feel like?’
‘Sort of slimy,’ I say.
‘Were its teeth sharp?’
‘Yeah. Real sharp. Like scissors.’
All this attention makes me feel special, although there’s another feeling in my tummy that – although I try – won’t burp out. I don’t know what it is but I don’t like it.
‘Sharks bite differently to dogs,’ I say, sounding totally sure of myself. ‘It’s probably because they’re an older species, like the dinosaur.’
‘Is that right?’ asks Tommy, raising an eyebrow. ‘Yeah,’ I say, a bit less sure.
By the time I get home both the lies and the funny feeling in my tummy are growing, and I’m kind of hoping that the smell of food and the yelling of adults will help everyone forget about my adventure. Although it’s fun being a hero, I’m about ready to go back to being a normal kid. It’s less stressful.
Chris runs up to his father – my uncle – who’s sitting with mum on the patio drinking tea. ‘Guess what! Danny saw a shark in the river, a real one!’
‘When I was a boy there were quite a few sharks in the river,’ Uncle Mick says through his bushy beard. ‘I haven’t heard of any sightings in years, but it’s possible, I s’pose.’
And soon I find myself repeating the same story, although this time it’s harder because I have to remember what I’ve already said. I must do okay, though, because even Mum believes me.
‘Sweetie, are you all right?’ she asks, her long fingers stroking my hair.
It feels nice. ‘I’ll live.’
‘I have a friend who writes for the local paper,’ says Uncle Mick. ‘I could give him a call.’
Me, a newspaper star? It sounds cool. Then I remember that those newspaper writers are supposed to be good at figuring stuff out. ‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to be … a bother.’
‘No bother. Newspapers love stories like this. Probably put a photo of you on the front page.’
I don’t know what to say. If I argue, everyone will know I’m a fake.
Tommy speaks up. ‘Danny’s pretty shy. If the kids at school find out he lost his shorts, he might get embarrassed.’
My uncle looks at me. ‘Really?’
I nod. ‘Yeah. I don’t like being naked.’
Uncle Mick’s still stuck on the idea. ‘People should know about this. What if the same shark eats another kid tomorrow? Won’t you be sorry then?’
I can’t think of a comeback.
‘It wasn’t big enough to actually kill someone,’ says Tommy. ‘Was it, Dan?’
‘Nah,’ I say. ‘Only big enough to rip off my pants.’
Uncle Mick doesn’t look convinced.
Chapter 4
The next afternoon we kids go back to the river. I don’t want to, but my cousins have come over specially and everyone insists.
‘I wanna see the sharky!’ says Katy.
‘Don’t swim,’ Mum warns as we set off. ‘It’s too dangerous with the shark and all.’
‘We’ll just have a look,’ says Tommy.
As we trudge down the hill, the funny feeling in my tummy is back, worse than ever.
The river has dropped since yesterday, so it’s a bit hard for me to show them exactly where the attack happened. Nevertheless, I do my best. If we can’t swim, the least I can do is scare a bit of fun into them. I explain again how sharp teeth grabbed me and pulled me up the river. How I struggled against the man-eater until I realised it was either my pants or my life. How –
‘What’s that?’ interrupts Chris.
He points to a piece of black material that is stuck on a sandbank, about twenty metres downstream.
‘I don’t know,’ I say.
But really I do.
‘I’m gonna get it,’ says Chris, bolting down the bank.
‘No!’ Tommy and I yell at the same time, but Chris doesn’t listen. He’s got his heart set on having his own adventure, of being able to tell people about the time he swam in shark-infested waters.
He rips off his shirt mid-stride and leaps into the river. Using his favourite giant-in-slow-motion running style, he’s out to the sandbank faster than a …
‘SHARK!’ yells Natalie, and panic stretches across Chris’s face.
‘Only joking,’ she says, giggling.
Chris raises a fist at her, and then picks up the piece of material. It looks a lot like a pair of shorts. Chris brings them to Tommy, because as the biggest and the smartest, Tommy will be able to explain how a pair of shorts that look just like the ones I had on yesterday ended up in the river without a rip or even a scratch on them.
Tommy looks at me.
‘I think they’re mine,’ I say, doing my best to sound surprised.
‘I think you’re right,’ says Tommy.
The others look from Tommy to me, waiting for an explanation.
It’s quiet for a few seconds.
‘The shark … ripped them off my legs, not actually ripped them in two,’ I say.
And everyone looks at Tommy, because as the biggest and the smartest, he’ll know whether or not I’m lying. The other reason they look at Tommy is that he always tells it how it is. He doesn’t make stuff up, unlike some people.
He’s silent for ages, before casting me a knowing smile. ‘Yeah. That’s what musta happened.’
‘But I thought the shark ate them?’ says Chris.
‘Must have spat them out,’ says Tommy. ‘Sharks only like skin and blood and stuff. Danny’s shorts would’ve tasted disgusting.’
Katy giggles. Chris doesn’t look convinced.
‘Hey, I’ve got an idea,’ Tommy says. ‘Let’s go for a swim. It’s too shallow for sharks, so we’ll be okay.’
‘Can we play the chase-the-stick game?’ asks Chris.
‘Sure,’ says Tommy.
We play for hours, and I lose – over and over and over again – but I don’t spit the dummy. Not once.
And as we walk home I know that Tommy – the best big brother in the whole world – will never bring up the pants-eating shark again, and that’s fine with me.
Because neither will I.
2
Chapter 1
‘Students, I have some important notices for you.’
A boy in the second row wipes his eye and some kids choke back a laugh.
‘Four,’ Damien whispers to me.
As Mr Crump – our deputy principal – continues, kids in the front rows quietly wriggle their backsides backwards, away from the firing zone.
‘Firstly, I must say that yesterday I saw some disgusting sights in the boys toilets.’
Kids wipe their faces, legs and arms.
‘Twelve,’ Damien whispers excitedly. ‘That’s a new record!’
You see, Mr Crump talks loudly and has a slight lisp. When you combine the two, it means th
at whenever he makes an ‘S’ sound he spits all over the audience, and Damien likes to count how many times he does it each sentence. As for me, I prefer to dodge the incoming spitballs.
‘Now, toilets are not there for you to mess up. Toilets are there for you to use respectfully.’
‘Drats!’ I say. As I ducked one green bullet another hit me in the left nostril. I wipe my nose on my shirt.
‘Daniel!’ says Mr Crump, forgetting about toilets for a second. ‘You should not speak during school assembly!’
Students and teachers stare at me and my face goes red. I feel like telling Mr Crump that he’s the one who shouldn’t speak during school assembly, but it probably wouldn’t be a very smart idea.
‘And lastly,’ he says, ‘let me say that the shortcut through to Smith Street is out of bounds until further notice. It’s magpie season and some children were viciously attacked there this morning. Anyone who disobeys this rule will be up for a Wednesday after school detention. Thank you.’
He sits down and kids applaud. Not because of what he said, but because he’s finished shooting goobers at us.
I don’t clap because I’m busy thinking. You see, today’s Wednesday, and every Wednesday after school, Tommy, Katy and I don’t catch the bus home, but walk to our Granny’s house. Actually, we don’t walk, we race, because waiting for us at Granny’s is always something delicious, like freshly baked biscuits, coconut ice or chocolate crackles, and the first one who gets there eats the lion’s share.
By far the quickest way to Granny’s is through the Smith Street shortcut. If that’s out of bounds, my older brother Tommy will win for sure. Not only does he have longer legs than me, he’s in the crosscountry team.
Damien taps me on the shoulder, breaking my train of thought. Are you scared of magpies?’
I think for a second, get a great idea, and smile. ‘No way.’
Chapter 2
I look one way, then the other. What I’m searching for are teachers, because I don’t want them to see what I’m about to do.
It mightn’t be littering, stealing, swearing, wearing the wrong uniform or messing up the toilets, but nevertheless I’m about to break a school rule.
