by Damian Davis
If there is a sound of summer, it’s the highpitched squeal made by millions of cicadas all singing at once. Cicadas are the best insects of all. Every November you start to notice little holes in the ground. It looks like someone has walked over all the grass in footy boots and the studs have dug in. Baby cicadas crawl out of the holes, climb trees, shed their skins and then start squealing.
There’s Greengrocers, Floury Bakers, Yellow Mondays, Double Drummers and rarest of all, Black Princes. The Prince is black all over, except for its silver wings.
‘Yeah, but what’s the big deal?’ I said.
‘You can sell Black Princes to the chemist.’
‘Bull,’ said Wrigs.
‘No, dead set,’ Dean said. ‘I made eighty bucks last year. Black Princes have got something in them that the chemists put in medicine. You get two bucks for males and five bucks for females.’
‘How come we’ve never heard of this before?’ I said.
‘Because you’re stupid. And there was no way I was going to tell you. I didn’t want you sprogs getting to them before me.’
‘So why are you telling us now?’ I asked him.
‘I haven’t got time this year. But I thought if I give you this one, you can give me the five bucks. Then you can get it back from the chemist.’
‘We’ll give you three bucks,’ said Wrigs.
Dean thought for a moment, then said, ‘Okay. Give me the cash.’
‘You’ll have to wait until we get the money from the chemist,’ Wrigs said.
‘I want four dollars then,’ said Dean.
‘Okay, but we’re going to find heaps more before we go,’ I said.
Excellent, if Dean could make eighty dollars selling cicadas when he hardly ever gets off his bum, we’d have the tinnie by the end of the week.
Pensdale hasn’t got a lot of trees, but the ones we do have are huge, boring gums. They are almost impossible to climb because the branches are so high and the trunks are really smooth.
It was slow going. We had to get Dad’s ladder from the garage and drag it with us up and down the street.
And by the time we saw a cicada, put the ladder up, and then climbed the ladder, it had usually flown away.
It took us two hours to find three Black Princes, and one of those managed to escape from the shoebox we were keeping them in.
We were about to give up when we spotted a goldmine. In the really tall trees just in front of Ms Burke’s place were twenty Black Princes all sitting together. They were on a branch about four metres up the tree. It was going to be pretty hard to get to them.
The ladder only reached a branch a bit below the one where they were. So I climbed onto that branch and pulled myself up to the higher branch.
Wrigs climbed onto the lower branch and I passed the cicadas down to him as I caught them. Every time I caught one, Wriggler had to climb back down the ladder and put the cicada in the shoebox at the foot of the trunk.
We had caught nine more cicadas when Dean wandered up the street. He didn’t say anything, just lingered, like he was waiting for something. Wrigs and I were worried. No one trusts Dean.
When Wrigs had climbed up onto my branch so I could pass him a cicada, Dean called out, ‘Hey, suckers.’
He pushed the ladder over. Wrigs and I were both stuck up the tree.
Then he picked up our box of Black Princes and said, ‘Look what someone left here.’
He looked around, pretending he didn’t know whose box it was.
Wriggler’s face went so red, it almost matched his hair. All the veins in his neck popped out. His whole body started twitching and wriggling.
Dean said, ‘I think I’ll take these babies down to the chemist.’
That was too much for Wrigs. He had a full-on Wrig-out. ‘Graa-aa-ee-agh!’ he yelled.
Dean looked up just in time to see Wrigs jumping from the branch straight onto him. They both went sprawling across the ground.
Wriggler screamed in pain and clutched at his right wrist. I thought there must be something wrong with it, but then he got up, grabbed the box of cicadas and ran off down the street. Dean just lay on the ground, groaning.
I had to climb onto the lower branch and jump down from there. By the time I caught up to Wriggler, he was almost at the Pensdale shopping centre.
He was clutching the cicada box under one arm like it was the most precious thing in the world. His other arm was hanging at a funny angle, but he didn’t seem to notice. He wasn’t going to slow down.
We raced along the row of shops to the chemist, which is at the top of Queen Street, right next to the train station.
We barrelled into the chemist, but there was a customer in front of us. We lined up behind him. The man was taking so long to choose a cough syrup that he was more likely to die of old age than a cough. Wrigs was starting to twitch again.
When the man finally left, Wrigs put the box onto the counter.
The chemist looked like she was bored of dealing with simpletons all day. She said, ‘What’s this, boys?’
‘Twelve Black Prince cicadas,’ Wrigs told her. ‘Twenty-four dollars’ worth.’
‘Probably more,’ cause some are females,’ I added.
‘Oh, you’re talking about the old Black Prince myth,’ the chemist said. ‘Don’t you know it’s not true?’
‘What do you mean? Don’t you put them in medicine?’ I asked.
‘Not since the eighteenth century,’ she said. Then she stared at Wriggler for a bit and added, ‘But you better give me a look at your arm.’
I looked at Wrigs. Even I could tell that his right arm shouldn’t be able to bend that way. He was gritting his teeth and it looked like he was trying not to cry.
The chemist took Wriggler’s arm and felt along it.
‘I think you may have broken it,’ she said to him.
Wriggler spent the rest of the day in Emergency at the hospital. His arm was broken in two places and the doctor said he would be in a cast for six weeks.
When I got home Dean was covered in ice packs. He had bruises all over him.
The only good thing that came out of today was whenever I said Wriggler’s name Dean flinched, like he was scared. I kept saying it.
The bad news is that we’re no closer to buying the tinnie. And Wrigs won’t be part of the skimming world record attempt if we get to restart it.
CHAPTER 15
DAY 14: Friday
My skims: 0
Wriggler’s skims: 0
Days to becoming world champion: 25 (Feeling the pressure.)
Found proof that Mr Black is up to something.
Money made for tinnie: $0 ($725 to go. We need to make some money soon.)
Wrigs came over early. He raced through the front door and closed it behind him.
‘It’s him. He’s everywhere,’ he said.
‘Who? Dean?’ I said. ‘He’s gone to the beach.’
‘Not Dean, Mr Black,’ he said. ‘He was at the hospital while I was waiting for the doctor to look at my arm. He just walked in on his own. Didn’t sit down, just looked around. He didn’t talk to anyone or anything.’
‘He was probably just seeing if someone he knew was there,’ I said.
‘Nah, he waved at me, then left again.’
Wriggler was leaning on the closed front door like he was expecting someone to barge through it.
‘What did you do?’
‘I ignored him. But then, when I got home, he was standing outside my place,’ Wrigs said.
‘Outside your place?’
‘It was like he was waiting for me. As soon as he saw our car turn into the drive he just walked off.’
‘It could have been a coincidence.’
‘No way. He’s following me. He’s going to kill me,’ said Wrigs.
Why would anyone want to kill Wrigs? I know he is my best mate but he is pretty unimportant to everyone else.
‘Why would he want to kill you?’ I said.
‘Why else
would he be watching everything I do?’
Then I had a flash, like a bullet to the brain.
I asked, ‘Are you sure your parents are your real parents?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, maybe they’re not, and you have some secret that a Russian criminal gang is trying to find out.’
It was suddenly obvious.
‘Like your real dad was an undercover police agent and he infiltrated a Russian gang. Maybe the gangsters found out, but just before they killed him, your father had a computer chip implanted into your brain with all their secrets.’
Wriggler started scratching around on the top of his head, looking for a scar.
‘And maybe he sent you to Pensdale, the most boring place in the world, to hide you. But the gang have finally tracked you down.’
All the blood left Wrigs’ face. I’d never noticed how many freckles he’s got but they really stand out when his face is pale.
‘Bull,’ he said.
It was such a good story I was a bit disappointed to admit I had only made it up.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘But it would be pretty cool if it was true, though.’
These holidays had gone from bad to worse. Nothing had worked out. We hadn’t made any cash and I was nowhere near the world record. The skimming was my shot at glory and I wasn’t going to let Mr Black or anyone else wreck it.
‘I’m sick of this,’ I said. ‘I reckon we should find out what he is up to.’
‘Who?’ said Wrigs.
‘Mr Black.’
‘Are you mad?’ Wrigs said.
‘What can he do to us?’
‘He’ll vivisect us,’ Wriggler said.
‘Vivisect?’
‘Y’know, cut us open and pull out our insides, while we’re still alive.’
Typical Wriggler. Always expecting the worst. It was time to stand up for ourselves.
‘We can sit around here being bored to death, or we can do something. It’s our river. We have to find out what Mr Black is up to at the deserted house, so we can stop him and get back to working on the world record.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘Well all right,’ he said. ‘But if I see him, I’m bolting.’
We walked down to the river. Just as we got to the path Wrigs said, ‘I’ll be the lookout.’
He said he would stay at the top of the path and call out if anyone came down towards the deserted house. I reckon he’d been working on that one since we left my house. How soft can you be?
So I had no choice but to go down to the house on my own. I was scared but couldn’t show it. I had to show Wrigs that I wasn’t weak like him.
I crept down the path and stood at the edge of the clearing. The vacant lot was to my left and the deserted house was to my right. At that exact moment the sun went behind a cloud and everything got darker. A gust of cold wind made me shiver.
But I wasn’t going to let Wrigs think I was a wimp, so I kept going. I picked up a half-brick from the ground in case there was someone inside the house. I didn’t know what I would do with it, but carrying it made me feel braver.
I slipped through the doorway and crept down the hallway as quietly as I could. There were rooms on either side, but they were empty. The hallway opened up into another room that must have once been the kitchen. It had a big chimney that probably used to have a stove in it. The kitchen was empty, too.
I was clutching the half-brick so hard my hand was hurting.
There were a couple of little rooms behind the kitchen. I guess one used to be a toilet and the other one was a pantry, or something. I didn’t really know what I was looking for.
I called out, ‘Hello.’
Nobody called back. There was no one there.
I was squeezing the half-brick so hard I was amazed I hadn’t crushed it. I pegged it against the chimney in the kitchen and it bounced off and rolled across the floor.
It made a bup-de-bup, bup-de-bup, bup-de-bup noise as it bounced along the wooden floorboards. Bup-de-bup, bup-de-bup. Then, boing.
Boing? The last bounce sounded completely different. Like it was on a different surface. And it sounded like there was nothing underneath that surface.
I went and picked up the brick and dropped it again on the spot. Boing. Weird. It sounded like the brick was hitting metal.
I picked it up again and dropped it half a metre to the left and it went bup-de-bup. Wood.
I brushed away the dirt on the floor just in front of me. Underneath was a trapdoor. I tapped it and it was definitely made of metal. It looked like it had only just been put there. It was about the size that a man could go through. I guess that’s why they call them manholes.
I wanted to try and open it but there was no way I was going to do it on my own. I ran up and got Wrigs.
‘So what?’ he said when I showed him the trapdoor. ‘It’s probably always been there.’
‘Look, it’s metal. It’s brand-new. The rest of the floor is old floorboards,’ I said. ‘And whoever put it here didn’t want anyone to find it. They’d covered it with dirt so it looks like the rest of the floor. They’ve even painted it brown like the wood.’
‘Mr Black?’
‘S’pose,’ I said. I bent down and looked to see if there was any way to open the trapdoor. There weren’t any handles on it, or anything.
‘I can’t open it,’ I said.
‘There’s something under there and we’re not meant to know about it,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to the cops.’
I found a little flap, about the size of a twenty-cent piece, which slid sideways. Under it was a lock.
Wrigs looked at me for a second. Then he said, ‘Graa-aa-ee-agh!’ and ran out of the kitchen, down the corridor and out of the house. What a sook. I spread the dirt back across the trapdoor so Mr Black wouldn’t know we found it, and then chased after Wrigs.
Wrigs was waiting for me at the top of View Street. We started walking to the police station, which should have taken us about ten minutes, but we walked so quickly it took us about four.
The police station is an old brick house in Queen Street. We were about to walk through the front door when I said, ‘What are we going to tell them?’
‘We’ll tell them what we’ve seen.’
‘What, that there’s a trapdoor in a deserted house?’
‘Yeah, and about Mr Black,’ he said.
‘So we’ll say that we’ve seen a guy hanging around who looks like he stepped out of an old black-and-white gangster film?’
‘Yeah,’ said Wrigs.
‘They’ll think we’re idiots.’
‘Well, I’m going to tell them anyway.’
‘They’re going to say we’re wasting their time.’
Wrigs looked at me for a moment. He knew I was right. We turned to leave.
Just then I noticed a garden bed next to the police station door. Someone at the station must have really liked cactus plants. There were loads of them, all different shapes and sizes.
But, better than the plants, were the quartz pebbles covering the bottom of the garden bed. They were exactly the right size and shape for skimming.
I picked up a couple and put them in my pocket.
CHAPTER 16
DAY 15: Saturday
My skims: 0
Wriggler’s skims: 0
Training for world record stopped. For a while, at least.
Money made for tinnie: $0 ($725 to go.)
We’ve got a plan, it’s not perfect but that’s its only problem.
Wriggler reckons Mr Black is keeping someone he has kidnapped under the kitchen. I reckon it’s where he hides stuff he steals from people’s houses. Whatever it is we have to find out. Then an idea hit me like a rolled up newspaper swatting a mosquito.
When Wrigs came around I said, ‘What we need is a sensor camera. Y’know, a camera that takes photos when it senses movement.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s no way Mr Black w
ould risk opening the manhole during the day when people might see him, so I reckon he must only go into that cellar at night.’
I pointed at a photo on the computer I’d found online. It was of a camera that we could buy from any electronics shop.
‘If we had this we could photograph him in the dark and see what he does down there. The police wouldn’t be able to ignore that.’
‘We haven’t got enough money for one of those.’
Typical Wrigs. Always worried about detail.
‘You can buy one for about a hundred bucks. Think how much reward money we’d make when we catch him. We’d definitely get the tinnie then.’
‘Yeah, but still it’s a hundred bucks we don’t have. We have fifteen dollars. Or twenty-five, if you’re willing to wash the vomit off the ten-dollar note Squid made selling the biscuits.’
‘We can earn the rest.’
‘How? Black Princes again?’ He pointed at his broken arm.
‘What about Tearley?’ I said. ‘I bet she’s got it.’
‘Yeah, Tearley’s got heaps of cash. She’s saved every dollar she’s ever earnt or been given,’ Wrigs said.
‘Maybe we can borrow it from her,’ I said.
‘Fat chance. She’s the scabbiest person in the world,’ said Wrigs.
‘Come on, let’s give it a crack.’
So we walked around to Tearley’s to see if she would loan us the money.
‘You’re not allowed in, Dribbler,’ Tearley said when she opened her front door. ‘Mum says you’re banned from here.’
‘What about him?’ I said, pointing to Wriggler.
‘No. Mum likes Wrigs.’
So I had to stand outside on the porch while they chatted in the hallway.
Wrigs told Tearley about the metal trapdoor in the deserted house and our plans with the camera. Then he asked her for the seventy-five dollars.
‘How will you pay me back?’
‘We’ll give you some of the reward money when we find out what Mr Black is up to,’ I called out from the porch. ‘We’ll get a reward. And if not, it’s Wrigs’ birthday next month and he always gets some money from his grandparents, so we’ll give you that.’
I was glad I couldn’t see Wrigs’ face when I said that. But we were going to have to make sacrifices and Wrigs might as well be the one making them.