Unbearable!

by Paul Jennings

  Finally the day came. November the twentieth. High tide was at half past four. After school. Old Shelly wouldn’t arrive until the top of the tide. And the gang wouldn’t be able to do anything while they were in school.

  All went well in the morning. But after lunch it was different. I walked into the class and sat down in my seat. The day was hot. Blowflies buzzed in the sticky air. Mr Lovell sat at his desk and wiped his brow. I looked around. There were three empty seats.

  Horse and his mates weren’t there.

  They were wagging school. And I knew where they were. Down the beach. Waiting for Old Shelly.

  I went cold all over. What if Old Shelly came in early? What if I was wrong about the tides? Turtle soup. I couldn’t bear to think about it.

  ‘Mr Lovell,’ I yelled. ‘I have to go home. I forgot something. Horse is after Old Shelly.’

  All the kids looked at me. They thought I was crazy. Mr Lovell frowned. He didn’t like anyone calling out without putting up their hand.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Berin,’ he growled. ‘We aren’t allowed to let students go home without their parents’ permission.’

  ‘But I have to go,’ I yelled. ‘Old Shelly is …’

  Mr Lovell interrupted. He was angry. ‘Sit down, boy, and behave yourself.’

  ‘You don’t understand …’ I began.

  ‘I understand that you’ll be waiting outside the principal’s office if you don’t be quiet,’ he said.

  I sat down. It was useless. Kids don’t have any power. They just have to do what they’re told.

  Or do they?

  8

  I looked at my feet. I looked at the running shoes and socks that hadn’t been changed for three months. I bent down and undid the laces. Then I pulled off my shoes and socks.

  I stepped out into the aisle. In bare feet.

  The room suddenly grew silent. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I looked at my feet. Long black nails curled out of my putrid toes. Slimy, furry skin was coated with blue sock fuzz. Swollen veins ran like choked rivers under the rancid flesh. The air seemed to ripple and shimmer with an invisible stench.

  I sniffed. Nothing. I couldn’t smell a thing. But the others could.

  The blowflies were first to go. They fell from the ceiling like rain. They dropped to the floor without so much as a buzz.

  Mr Lovell jumped as if a pin had been stuck into him. Then he slumped on his desk. Asleep. A crumpled heap of dreams. The class collapsed together. They just keeled over as if they had breathed a deadly gas.

  They were alive. But they slept and snored. Victims of my fetid feet.

  I wish I could say that there were smiles on their lips. But there weren’t. Their faces were screwed up like sour cabbages.

  9

  I ran out of the room and across the school yard. The caretaker was emptying a rubbish bin into the burner. He dropped the bin and flopped unconscious to the ground as I passed.

  My three month smell was powerful. It could work in the open at a distance of ten metres. Horse and his gang wouldn’t have a chance. They wouldn’t even get near me.

  But I had to hurry. If Old Shelly came early … I couldn’t bear to think about it.

  The beach bus was pulling up at the kerb. I had one dollar with me. Just enough. I jumped onto the bus steps.

  ‘Turtle Island, please,’ I said to the driver.

  He didn’t answer. He was fast asleep in his seat with the engine still ticking over. I looked along the row of seats. All the passengers were snoring their heads off. I had gassed the whole bus.

  ‘Oh no,’ I said. I jumped off the bus and headed for the beach. The quickest way was straight through the shopping mall.

  I didn’t really want to run barefooted through the town but this was an emergency. I passed a lady on a bike. She fell straight asleep, still rolling along the road. The bike tottered and then crashed into a bush.

  This was terrible. No one could come near me without falling asleep. I ran over to help her but her eyes were firmly closed. The best thing I could do was to get away from her as quickly as possible.

  10

  I jogged into the shopping mall. People fell to the ground in slumbering waves as I approached. I stopped and stared around.

  The street was silent. Hundreds of people slept on the footpaths and in the shops. A policeman snored in the middle of the road. I felt as if I was the only person in the world who was awake.

  Suddenly I felt lonely. And sad.

  But then I thought of Old Shelly. That poor, helpless turtle dragging its ancient shell up the beach. To the waiting Horse and his cooking pot.

  I ran on. My heart hammered. My knees knocked. My feet fumed. ‘Old Shelly,’ I said. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.’

  I pounded on and on, not stopping for the people around me as they fell to the ground like leaves tumbling in autumn.

  At last I reached the beach. The tide was in. A strong current cut me off from Turtle Island. A flock of seagulls flew overhead. They plummeted to the ground reminding me of planes that had lost their pilots.

  My feet still worked. They were as powerful as ever.

  I gazed at the swiftly running water. I peered along the beach for a boat. There was none. I looked at my foul feet. If only I could fly. On the wind I thought I heard wicked laughter. ‘Old Shelly,’ I mumbled. ‘I’m coming.’ I plunged into the sea and waded towards the island.

  My toes sank into the sand. I could feel the grains scouring my skin. Washing away at three months of muck. The water was clear and cold and salty. On and on I struggled through the cleansing stream. Splashing. Jumping. Crying. Until I reached the other side.

  The seagulls scampered around my feet. They were awake. They didn’t even yawn.

  11

  I looked down at my lily-white toes. They were spotless. The water had stolen their strength. Three months of saving my smell. Gone. Scrubbed away by the salt and the sand.

  There was no sign of the three bullies. But I knew where to find them. I staggered up to the top of a huge sand dune and stared along the beach. There they were. And there in the clear blue water was a moving shadow. Old Shelly.

  Horse and his mates hadn’t seen her. There was still a chance. I plunged down the dune towards them, yelling and screaming. Trying to distract them from their search.

  It worked. They turned around and watched me approach. I had to draw them off. Once they saw the turtle they would know which part of the beach she was on. Even if Old Shelly escaped they would dig around and find the eggs.

  I knew it was no use arguing with them. They wouldn’t listen. I had to say something mean.

  ‘Bird brain,’ I said weakly to Horse. I felt silly. It didn’t come out right. It wasn’t tough. I bunched up my fists. ‘Get off this island,’ I ordered.

  ‘Who’s going to make us?’ jeered Horse.

  ‘Me,’ I said.

  I felt very small. They were real big kids. They walked towards me with snarling faces.

  I turned and ran.

  ‘Get him.’ They pelted after me. I scrambled up the sand dune and along the top. I felt them panting behind me. The sandy ground turned to rock. It cut my bare feet. They hurt like crazy. I slowed down to a hobble. My toes were bleeding. It was no use. The gang had me trapped.

  I turned and faced the gang. Behind them, way below, I could see Old Shelly hauling herself over the sand. They hadn’t seen her. Yet.

  Thistle circled around me. They closed in. I tried to find something to defend myself. There was nothing. I put my hands in my pocket in a desperate search. My fingers found something useful.

  ‘Get back,’ I yelled. ‘Or I’ll use these.’

  Horse laughed out loud. ‘We’re not scared of a pair of … ’

  He never finished. He crashed to the ground like a tree falling. The others followed. They were fast asleep on the sand. I held my putrid socks in the air. Boy, were they powerful.

  12

  I put th
e socks near the sleeping bullies. Then I walked down to the beach.

  Old Shelly was digging a hole with her flippers. Slowly, painfully, she dug and dug and dug. She was helpless. ‘Don’t worry, girl,’ I said. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

  I sat a little way off and watched the miracle. I watched the eggs drop like beads from a broken necklace. The sun sank into the sea, lighting the old turtle with gold.

  I watched as Old Shelly covered the eggs and then crawled back towards the shore. Just as she reached the edge she turned. And nodded her head as if to thank me.

  ‘Think nothing of it,’ I said. ‘Your eggs are safe now. I’ll see you next year.’

  I have to admit there was a tear in my eye as I watched her sink under the water and swim out beneath the silvery arms of the rippling moonbeams.

  I went back and fetched the socks. I threw them in the sea and waited. In no time at all, Horse and his mates started to stir. They sat up and peered into the darkness. They couldn’t work it out. It was light when they had fallen asleep. They didn’t know where the sun had gone.

  Suddenly Horse gave an enormous scream. He ran for it. The others followed him, belting along the sand as if a demon was after them. They thought I had strange powers. I guess if you think about it, they were right in a funny sort of way.

  I walked slowly home.

  A nasty thought entered my mind. What if Horse found more members for his gang? What if they came back to wait for Old Shelly next November?

  I was worried. Then I chuckled and spoke to myself. ‘If I start going to bed with my shoes on tonight,’ I said, ‘my feet ought to be pretty strong by this time next year.’