Emma mentally pushed her sleeves up as she thrust all thoughts of alcohol, vomiting and dropping dead from her mind. She took a seat at her computer.
Instead of the interview transcript, a new screen had mysteriously appeared.
It was flashing a message.
“Katriona! Ling Ling! WHAT IS HOOKUP? …”
CHAPTER 18
Soppy love song vs. sleuthing… It’s a no-brainer!
On days when Alana did not have P.E. with Coach Kusmuk, she continued to observe her whenever possible. She did the same with Lara. But she did not see any superstitious tendencies in either one. At least, not in the beginning. Coach Kusmuk continued to march and bark orders as if she was in the Army. When she wasn’t yelling at people (usually Sofia), or moaning about Childhood Obesity, her favourite activity was seizing Inappropriate Items for her Confiscation Cupboard. Lara spent most of her time alone; as shy and unobtrusive as ever. Since the theft, she had taken to rushing to the toilets at odd intervals. Alana wondered why, if Lara was so sick, she didn’t go to the school clinic, until she herself had to visit the nurse.
“Come in! Come in!” Nurse Cathy said as soon as Alana entered the clinic, smartly closing the book, A Step-by-Step Guide to Disease and placing it on the shelf next to Brain Surgery for Dummies.
Alana was shown the kind of courtesy reserved for five-star hotel guests. Her simple cut on the knee was examined with grave concern. Nurse Cathy eyed the rest of Alana’s body speculatively. There could be any number of diseases lurking in Alana’s skin, bone, tissue, heart, blood and chest. The nurse licked her lips at the prospect and stared hungrily for symptoms.
“I can have you bandaged up in a jiffy. You’ll be as good as new,” she promised, with a vague wave at another patient wrapped head to toe, like a mummy. This particular ‘mummy’ sat in a large armchair, cemented in a meditative pose. Hands rested on knees, feet firmly planted on the floor, mouth set in a permanent ‘O.’ Patient X, the medical chart announced. A silent mountain of plaster and gauze. Alana looked at the white spectre in alarm.
“Just a band-aid will do, thanks.”
“Oh, don’t mind this old thing,” Nurse Cathy assured her, moving to stand on top of the S.O.S. carved crudely on the floor by the mummy’s big toe. “I’ve just been practising.”
It was no wonder Lara didn’t go to the clinic if she was unwell. Nobody did, if they could help it. And all the hypochondriacs discovered a miraculous cure.
The only thing Coach Kusmuk and Lara had in common was catching Alana staring at them. (Damn, those pot plants were too short!) Coach Kusmuk’s expression was always suspicious and resentful, as if she knew Alana was aware of how much of a struggle it was for her to be taken seriously; while Lara’s was fearful, and (Alana liked to imagine) tinged with guilt. Alana realised they would have to take a proactive approach. They would have to Lay A Trap.
But Laying A Trap was not going to be easy. Each subject teacher set the students project work and group assignments. This kept the girls very busy. Very soon, it seemed, it would be the School Holidays. Alana was piqued she was no nearer to solving the mystery than when she had begun. Sofia had given up on finding the charm again. Her mood ring was now a deep green, which matched her calm and serene temper.
Today, the four girls were working on an original composition in one of the rehearsal rooms. Their music teacher, Country-Music-hopeful Jack Stratt, had asked them to write their own song. Alana nicknamed him Jack Strutt, for the distinctive way he walked; part-cowboy and part-catwalk model. He also spoke with an American accent, which Alana suspected was fake. Every five seconds he smoothed his thick, wavy blonde hair.
“Good songs tell stories,” Jack drawled, swaggering around the classroom. “I’m not gonna tell you what stories you should tell, but the ones that truly move people, are the ones that are most real. So write from your heart. Share your pain … your joy … your soul …” His eyes looked heavenward. “And you’ll touch people,” he said, turning his blue eyes to look poignantly at the students while reaching out a hand. Some of the girls sighed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” muttered Alana to herself. “He’s like a walking cliché!”
So far, Khalilah and Maddie had written parts for the flute and violin, while Sofia scribbled notes on how she could play drums. All of them had their own version of what the lyrics should sound like, but the results so far were much too soppy for Alana’s liking. This made her slightly unhappy, since she would be the one singing them while playing guitar. She felt sure it was because of Jet Tierbert’s latest hit, ‘Don’t Leave Me’, from his album, ‘Heartbroken’. Maddie played a suspiciously similar melody, which had Khalilah and Sofia clapping with enthusiasm. They don’t even realise they’re doing it! Alana groaned quietly, staring at her love-struck friends.
Alana felt like the only black cloud in a room full of mushy marshmallows.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking how we could check if Coach Kusmuk or Lara is superstitious,” Alana said to shift her mood. She felt confident no-one would hear their plotting in the sound-proof room.
“Oh Alana, I don’t know. I don’t think I can be bothered anymore, you know?” Sofia said, her eyes darkening with sadness.
But Alana persisted, and convinced Sofia and the others they should at least try. They would do three tests. The first test (a very simple one) involved setting up a ladder in the school corridor to see if Coach Kusmuk or Lara went under it, or around it.
“People who don’t want bad luck won’t walk under a ladder,” Alana said with confidence.
The second test would use Jinx, Katriona’s cat, who was black. Most superstitious people, Alana explained, would be keen to avoid him.
“Are you sure it’s not because he has three legs and eczema?” Maddie asked with a wry smile.
The third test was more difficult to arrange. Somehow they had to get Lara or Coach Kusmuk to open an umbrella … indoors.
“It’s supposed to be bad luck to open an umbrella inside. Right, Sofia?” Alana said, looking to her friend, who nodded in confirmation.
“Sure, but unless it’s raining inside, why would they even want to?” Maddie pointed out.
Khalilah’s eyes lit up. “Ooo-oo-ooh!”
Alana knew that look. It was the same look her mum’s friends got whenever they had an Idea. Usually a stupid one in which someone got thrown in jail. But it was days later she remembered this. Days too late.
“Don’t worry, Alana. With the school fundraiser coming up, I think Maddie and I can help with that one. Leave it to us,” Khalilah said with a wink at Maddie’s startled face. Maddie didn’t know what Khalilah had in mind. She didn’t like the gleam in her eyes either, but she nodded all the same. She would do anything to help their friend. “Shall we get on to the lyrics, then? What have you got, Maddie?”
Maddie cleared her throat nervously before starting a soulful melody.
“Okay. It’s not very good, but anyway … When I look into your eyes.
I get so lost inside.
You’re all I’ve ever dreamed of, ooh.
Who knew you could be true?
I’m drowning. It’s true. Drowning in you.”
The three girls clapped loudly as Maddie gave a self-conscious bow and quickly sat down.
“I can go next,” Sofia said, excitement dancing in her eyes. She launched into a pop version of her song.
“Ooh I’m the one, the one for you, baby. Only you don’t know it yet.
I’m your sunshine. I’m your world.
Your everything. Only you don’t know it yet.
Turn around and open your eyes. Ooh baby. I tell no lies.
The only one for you.”
Alana and her friends couldn’t help but whoop and laugh at Sofia’s infectious enthusiasm.
“Okay. Now me,” said Khalilah, giving a false cough which made them giggle.
“Yo, yo, now come on.
You’re like a madness.
Now,
now, now, come on.
It’s gettin’ so bad, this.
You’ve got me thinkin’ of you, night and day.
Oh, why dontcha just take me away?
There’s a fire in my veins and I’m no longer breathin’
You got me twisted and a-he-he-he-heavin’
Yo, yo, yo, madness.
Word.”
Khalilah finished the rap with a windmill, landing on her knees with a dramatic flourish. It was no surprise she got the loudest applause of all.
“Your turn, Alana,” she said, puffing.
“I can’t wait to hear what you’ve come up with. I bet you’ve got something great, what with your dad, and everything,” Maddie enthused. In answer to Khalilah’s puzzled expression, she explained, “Mr Oakley was a successful songwriter. Before he passed away, that is. One of his songs was even made into a jingle for that soda-pop advertisement. You know the one with the surfers –”
“– and the platypus, yes, yes, that’s one of my favourites; it’s so adorable! And the tune is so catchy. Wow, Alana,” Khalilah said, clapping her hands in excitement, “let’s hear it!”
“Mine’s a bit different to all of yours, but here goes,” Alana said, suddenly worried.
“I miss you. Your cute eyes and puffy cheeks used to make me smile.
You loved your food. You loved to run. You loved to hide and sleep. Why couldn’t you have stayed a while?
Choo choo. Soft and furry.
Choo choo. Cute and cuddly.
Choo choo. Oh how I miss you.
Choo choo,” Alana trailed off.
There was a long silence.
“That was deadly, Alana,” Maddie finally said.
“Yeah, it was … sweet. Really sweet,” added Sofia, giving Alana’s arm a pat.
“Some hard-core rock for sure,” said Khalilah, nodding vigorously.
But Alana wasn’t fooled. “You hated it,” she said. Each girl took care to avoid her eyes.
“No!”
“Well, …”
“Not really …”
Maddie gave the others a warning glance. “It just … doesn’t have the same vibe as ours. You know? But that doesn’t make it bad, or anything.”
Alana scrunched up her piece of paper and threw it into the bin. She resigned herself to the fact that she would be singing a love song … just not one about a deceased hamster. If she was honest, she was happy to escape. She would much rather work on solving the mystery.
“Okay, I think I’ll leave the icky stuff to you guys. I’m gonna go catch me a thief,” she said with an exaggerated Stratt-like drawl. She walked out of the rehearsal room with a cowboy’s lope. “See ya, pardners. Wish me bonne chance. That’s Frenchie fer Good Luck,” and with a pow from her cocked fingers, she was off.
CHAPTER 19
A second chance at love.
After Emma got over the initial shock of discovering what HookUp was, she looked at the website (and the responses to her biodata) with equal measures of excitement and horror.
“The great thing about it, though, is that it looks like you, but at the same time it doesn’t. It looks even better,” enthused Katriona, proud of her computer skills.
“Well, I do look younger,” Emma said dubiously.
“That’s what I said. Better. Way better.”
“But my boobs don’t look like that.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“In fact, they’ve NEVER looked like that.”
“Your boobs. These boobs. Same-same lah!” Ling Ling chipped in.
“Who cares?” agreed Katriona. “Look how many hits you’ve got. This one sounds good! Listen to this one …” and proceeded to read one response after another.
“But don’t you see? They’re all responding to this woman, LegsEleven, who isn’t even real! What do I know about bungy-jumping, rock climbing or hang-gliding? I’ve never done any of those things. And calling my ute a monster truck is a plain lie.”
“LegsEleven IS real. Okay, so the details aren’t completely true, but the gist of them is. You are fun-loving, you are soft-hearted, and that car of yours is a beast,” Katriona said, winking at Emma’s weak grin.
“Oh, it’s just too pathetic. I can’t do this. What happened to the old-fashioned way?” Emma said, burying her burning face in her hands.
Ling Ling looked stern. “What, like meeting someone? You have to have a social life for that. Let’s face it, Emma. Who do you see apart from us, James and Alana?”
Emma looked at Katriona and Ling Ling a little uncertainly, as she tried to count the number of people.
“Well, there’s the postman, but he doesn’t stay very long, and I tend to miss him by the time I check for mail; then there’s the lovely waiter at the café where I grab a cup of coffee, although he’s gone back-packing to Peru. I used to go to Book Club, but I haven’t been for a while, and … and …” and then she realised there was no one. No one at all. For three years it had been just her and her computer, interviewees like Slam Guru (although rarely as gorgeous or available), her lovely friends, and her Alana, Clever-Clogs-Alana who kept life smooth and ripple-free. When Emma looked at life like that – with a magnifying glass rather than binoculars that kept things far away, and blurry, and safe – she felt a bit sad. And rather lonely. And pushing away the thoughts did not make them go.
“This is how it’s done now. Come on. Just try it. For a bit of a laugh. What could possibly go wrong?”
And so, because Emma had a short memory for all the things that had Gone Wrong, she gave in. After all, she was just going to do a bit of writing. Different writing to what she normally did, true, but it was still writing.
Dating, she knew nothing about, but writing? She knew how to do that.
And PeterPan sounded … interesting …
CHAPTER 20
Yes Coach. No Coach. Three bags full.
The school held several fundraisers throughout the year. Everybody pitched in to create a fun event. There was always Hook-the-Duck, Beat-the-Goalie, and the traditional Chock-Chock-Chockie-Wheel of Fortune with prizes donated from local stores. The most successful stall last year was the Water Dunker. Students lined up for a chance to hit a target, which, if hit hard enough, made one of their teachers fall into a pool of water. In the lead-up to the fundraiser, the school was a confusion of scaffolding and decorations as people prepared their stalls. It was the perfect time for Alana and her friends to stage their daring plan.
Everything was in place. A ladder stood in a narrow hallway where both Coach Kusmuk and Lara would have to pass. A few metres beyond the ladder, Alana waited with Jinx, Katriona’s soot-coloured cat. As for the final superstition, Khalilah and Maddie assured Alana they had Everything Under Control. All Sofia had to do was offer the suspects an umbrella. They would take care of the rest.
When the bell for class rang, the tight passageway became a bottleneck, as people were forced over and under the ladder. Coach Kusmuk, Alana saw, had no trouble striding under the metal equipment, but Lara looked like a hounded rabbit. Too big to squeeze past it and, by the look of it, too scared to pass under it, she eventually grabbed the ladder, and with a herculean effort, heaved it out of the way.
In the meantime, Alana put Jinx down in place and disappeared. Lara’s face, when she spotted the black cat, was a picture. Too many people blocked her way to go back past the ladder. Lara stood frozen and cornered. The cat looked at her with disdain. Coach Kusmuk however, had no such qualms. She had just finished confiscating yet another Inappropriate Item from a student when she spied Jinx, legs askew, licking ineffectually at his eczema.
“I swear this place is more like a zoo than a school,” the coach said, scooping Jinx up in one movement and muttering about the local animal shelter under her breath.
From her vantage point, hidden by the swell of students, Alana took note of their different reactions.
Jinx, however, had no intention of going back to the Cat Protection Society, where it was rumo
ured vital bits got cut off. With a quick flick of his tail, he bounded out of Coach Kusmuk’s arms before she could stop him. Alana watched him run away with a sigh. She wasn’t too worried. She knew he would race all the way home like a homing pigeon, after ‘visiting’ a few ladies along the way. Alana often thought Jinx should have been named Casanova. Certainly, missing a leg and having a chronic skin condition didn’t stop him from siring the neighbourhood’s cats. She followed the pair from a safe distance, careful not to be seen.
Sofia stood waiting for Coach Kusmuk and Lara by the door of one of the school’s indoor gardens. Once the first wave of people passed, she quickly put a ‘Detour’ sign in place. The sign, she realised too late, did not look very professional. In the rush to get it done, the girls had forgotten the ‘u’ so it read ‘Detor’ in rather scraggly writing. Lara was the first to arrive.
“Hi, La-ra,” Sofia called in a loud, slow voice, so Khalilah and Maddie could hear her from their hiding spot. “Would You Like An Um-bre-lla?”
She offered her an umbrella as she pointed upwards. A second, makeshift sign hung askew above the doorway: ‘Caution. Wet Area’. Lara took one nervous look at the umbrella, and rushed through the door. Coach Kusmuk was not far behind, her face stormy as usual.
Sofia again offered protection in a booming voice.
“Do I look like Mary Poppins to you?” the coach barked. Sofia quickly withdrew. Minutes later the door swung open again.
Coach Kusmuk and Lara emerged dripping wet.
Sofia stood helplessly by the door. She offered the umbrella a second time, but neither of them took it. Alana arrived. Her mouth dropped open. This was their plan?
A shrill ring cut through the heavy silence.
“Did it work? Hello? Alana? Can you hear me?
Did it work?” Khalilah’s voice could be heard rising tinnily from the phone.
Coach Kusmuk, thin rivulets of water tracking lines down her face, snatched the mobile from Alana’s unresisting fingers. She pocketed it. Her mouth a thin line.
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