The Stinky Street Stories

by Alex Ratt

  ‘What are you doing in my room?’ she snarled. ‘And what is that on your feet?’

  Before I could answer, she called, ‘MUM! The smell is Brian! He’s got something revolting on his feet and he’s tracked it all through the house!’

  ‘Don’t you try to blame this on me,’ I said, holding up the empty flask. ‘I don’t know what you were planning with this—this—potion, but you won’t get away with it!’

  Brenda looked past me to the dresser where the chemistry set stood. Her eyes widened. ‘MUM!’ she yelled. ‘Brian has ruined your birthday present!’

  ‘What?’ Mum’s voice was coming nearer. ‘Brian, what have you been up to now? There’s cat vomit all over the house. And dog vomit.’

  She came to stand behind my sister in the doorway. ‘Hello, Nerf.’

  Nerf kept his eyes on the floor. ‘Hi, Mrs Bumf.’

  ‘What is going on here, Brian? And what are those carrots doing on the floor?’

  I opened my mouth to explain, but Brenda interrupted. ‘I was inventing a perfume for your birthday, Mum, but Brian has ruined it!’

  ‘A perfume? For me?’ Mum tilted her head to the side and smiled at Brenda. ‘So that’s why you wanted the chemistry set for Christmas.’

  ‘I’ve been working on the recipe for months,’ said Brenda. ‘It was a mix of roses and pink marshmallows and fairy floss and—’

  ‘Stop!’ I said. The words alone were making me sick.

  ‘I was going to call it Eau de Pink,’ Brenda said mournfully.

  ‘Eau de Pink? More like ODOUR PUKE,’ I said.

  ‘It sounds wonderful,’ said Mum, ignoring me. ‘I’ll look forward to trying it.’

  ‘You can’t!’ wailed Brenda. ‘Brian just threw it out the window!’

  ‘Brian!’ Mum said. ‘What a terrible thing to do.’

  ‘How was I supposed to know it was a perfume?’ I demanded. ‘I thought she was developing a poison gas!’

  Mum gave me a look. ‘I’ll deal with you in a minute.’

  She turned back to Brenda, whose bottom lip was wobbling as if she was about to cry.

  ‘I can’t believe you went to all the trouble of inventing a perfume just for me,’ Mum said. ‘That is so sweet of you, Brenda.’

  She went to the window and looked out, as if hoping to get a whiff.

  ‘Of course,’ she went on, ‘Brian will have to be punished.’

  Brenda smirked at me.

  ‘What?’ I said. ‘That’s not fair! Mum, I saved you from her horrible Odour Puke. You should be rewarding me!’

  ‘You can start by cleaning the dog and cat vomit off the floors,’ Mum said.

  ‘But it’s in every single room!’ I protested.

  ‘Then you’d better get started,’ said Mum.

  I sighed. ‘Come on, Nerf,’ I said.

  ‘Uh . . . I can hear my mum calling me,’ said Nerf. He shot out the door like an arrow.

  ‘That can’t be Brian’s only punishment,’ Brenda said. ‘All he’s doing is cleaning up the mess he made.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Mum. ‘He’ll get an even worse punishment tomorrow.’

  I spent the rest of the day cleaning vomit from the floor of every room in the house.

  And the next day at school I had the rest of my punishment. It was so bad, none of my friends would come near me, not even Nerf.

  You see, when I’d thrown Brenda’s perfume out the window, it landed on the clothes I’d hung on the clothesline—including my school uniform. And Mum made me wear it.

  I was

  ‘We’re almost there, Nerf!’ I said.

  ‘That’s the back paddock.’

  Nerf and I were in the car with Mum on the way to visit Great-Uncle McStinky. I was really excited because Old McStinky is the coolest great-uncle ever.

  ‘Tell me again what’s so great about your uncle,’ Nerf said.

  ‘He’s not my uncle,’ I told him. ‘He’s my great'-uncle.’

  ‘Isn’t that what I said?’ Nerf asked.

  ‘Yes, but—oh, never mind.’ There was a reason people called me Brain and not Nerf.

  ‘I’ll tell you what’s great about my great-uncle,’ I said. ‘Old McStinky has a farm. And on that farm he has a pig, and a horse, and cows, and an awesome big red tractor. Maybe we can see it from here.’

  I opened the window to stick my head out, and was immediately hit by an overpowering reek. It was like if you mixed overripe bananas, rotten fish, Princess Pookie’s dog food and my sister Brenda’s pongy perfume.

  ‘Whoa!’ said Nerf. ‘You could’ve waited till we got out of the car, Brian.’

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ I said. ‘It’s coming from out there. And it’s getting stronger!’

  ‘Quick!’ yelled Nerf. ‘Close the window, close the window!’

  I just managed to get the window closed before the reek knocked me out.

  ‘That was disgusting,’ Nerf said. ‘You didn’t tell me Old McStinky had a FOUL-SMELLING farm!’

  ‘He doesn’t,’ I said as we turned into the long driveway leading to Great-Uncle McStinky’s house. ‘He has an amazingly awesomely cool farm. And just wait till you see his house: it’s the best.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Mum.

  Mum says that her uncle’s house is ‘too loud’, but I have no idea what she means. Sure, there’s a lot going on, but that’s because Great-Uncle McStinky always decorates his house for special occasions.

  For Christmas he put a surfing Santa on the roof.

  Who doesn’t love surfing Santas?

  For Easter he trimmed the shrubs near the house to look like eggs, then he spray-painted them silver and gold.

  For Halloween he strung up big spiders’ webs on the porch, and carved evil faces on two pumpkins and put them on either side of the steps.

  For Talk Like a Pirate Day he got a parrot. (He also taught the parrot to sing carols for Christmas.)

  For International Carrot Day he made an amazing sculpture of a rocket ship—all out of carrots.

  For National Dress Up Your Pet Day he put his pig in board shorts and his horse in a skirt.

  Because there are so many special occasions to decorate for, Great-Uncle McStinky doesn’t bother putting the decorations away each time: he just leaves them up all year round.

  He says he has the best-decorated house on the street and I believe him.

  Mum says that’s because there are no other houses on the street.

  When we pulled up in front of the house and got out, Nerf said, ‘Wow . . . your great- uncle’s house is beautiful.’

  Nerf has very good taste.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said to him.

  ‘Don’t you want to say hello to your great- uncle?’ said Mum.

  ‘Later—I want to show Nerf the farm first.’

  ‘Come on,’ I said, leading the way to the pond. ‘That’s another thing about Old McStinky I forgot to tell you: on his farm he has some ducks. See? Here’s a duck. There’s a duck. Everywhere a—’

  ‘DUCK! DUCK!’ said Nerf.

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. Then: ‘Hey!’ Because suddenly I was covered in mud. ‘Who did that?’

  ‘I told you to duck,’ said Nerf. ‘You just got splashed by a flying pig!’

  ‘That’s Porkules the Wonder Pig. And he wasn’t flying— he was diving.’

  ‘A diving pig?’ said Nerf in awe.

  ‘Yeah, he has his own diving board and everything.’

  As we watched, Porkules trotted up a ramp to his diving board and leaped into the muddy pond below.

  ‘It’s really more of a belly flop,’ Nerf said as Porkules landed with an almighty splash. ‘Oh no, a poor little duckling got sprayed with mud.’

  As Nerf started forwards to help the duckling, I said, ‘No, Nerf—wait!’

  But it was too late. With a loud honk, the duckling’s mother rushed at us, her wings outstretched and her beak snapping.

  ‘Yikes!’ said Nerf. ‘She’s coming right for us!’
/>   ‘Quick!’ I said. ‘Up the ramp.’

  We ran up Porkules’ ramp, the duck close behind.

  ‘She’s still coming!’ said Nerf.

  ‘Let’s go onto the diving board,’ I said, sure that she wouldn’t follow us there.

  I ran out onto the board. Porkules had left it covered in muddy hoof prints.

  I skidded straight off the board and into the pond.

  ‘Whooooooooar!’

  Nerf did too.

  ‘Whooooooooar!’

  And so did Porkules.

  ‘Oooo ooiiiiiiinnnnkkkkk!’

  I tried to climb out of the pond but the sides were so squelchy and slippery I fell in again.

  Then Nerf tried to climb out of the pond but the sides were so squelchy and slippery he fell in again.

  Then I fell in again.

  Then Nerf fell in again.

  When we finally made it back onto dry land, Nerf said, ‘I think I’ve seen enough of the pig and the ducks.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘Let’s go find the tractor.’

  We shook ourselves dry, then set off.

  ‘The tractor’s in the back paddock,’ I explained. ‘We have to cross another two paddocks to get there.’

  We climbed the fence and jumped into the first paddock.

  ‘This is brilliant,’ said Nerf, looking around. ‘A field full of old tennis balls!’ He picked one up and threw it at me. ‘Catch, Brian!’

  I jumped away in alarm.

  As he bent down to pick up another one, I said, ‘Um, Nerf, those aren’t tennis balls.’

  Nerf looked down at the ball in his hand.

  ‘Then what are they?’ he asked.

  ‘This is the horse paddock,’ I said.

  Nerf dropped the ball in a hurry. ‘You mean all these old tennis balls are actually . . .’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ I said.

  ‘Ew!’ Nerf shivered. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Okay.’

  We climbed the fence into the second paddock.

  Nerf stopped to look around as I strode ahead. ‘Now this is more like it,’ he said, sounding pleased.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Hey, Brian—catch!’

  I turned around and saw a disc whizzing towards me through the air.

  ‘Where’d you get the frisbee, Nerf?’ I called as I stretched out my hand to catch it.

  ‘The field is full of them!’

  As I caught the frisbee, it crumbled in my hand. Wait a minute . . .

  ‘Nerf, stop! Those aren’t frisbees—they’re cow pats!’

  ‘What’s a cow pat?’ Nerf asked as he picked up another brown disc.

  ‘It’s dried—’

  Just then, a cow near the corner of the paddock lifted its tail and let loose with the undried version.

  I pointed. ‘That.’

  ‘Yuck!’ Nerf dropped the cow pat and wiped his hands on his jeans. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’

  ‘I didn’t know you were going to play with it,’ I said. ‘Anyway, forget the frisbee—look.’

  There, parked by a big haystack at the far end of the next paddock, was a beautiful gleaming red tractor.

  ‘Isn’t it cool?’ I said.

  ‘Yes!’ said Nerf.

  We ran over to the fence and climbed over—and that’s when we were hit.

  ‘Oh no!’ I said. ‘It’s got me!’

  ‘Me too,’ said Nerf as he fell to his knees.

  ‘The . . . reek.’ I was so overwhelmed by the fumes I could barely talk. ‘It’s the same one we smelled from the car.’

  ‘It’s so ripe,’ croaked Nerf.

  ‘And so rotten,’ I moaned. ‘It’s too strong, Nerf. I can’t make it.’

  ‘But the tractor,’ he said, his eyes watering. ‘It’s so beautiful, all red and shiny.’

  I made one last mighty effort, but the reek was in my throat, making me choke. ‘Ugh! I can’t . . . get . . . any . . . closer.’ I looked at Nerf and shook my head. ‘It’s no good,’ I said. ‘You’ll have to go on without me.’

  Nerf bravely staggered forwards, but after a few metres he was driven back. ‘It’s just too ripe and rotten,’ he gasped.

  There was only one thing to do. ‘Retreat! Retreat!’ I called.

  We both turned and ran.

  We reached the fence of the cow paddock and scrambled over.

  ‘Watch out you don’t step on a frisbee,’ said Nerf.

  ‘They’re not frisbees,’ I reminded him.

  We made it across the cow paddock and jumped the fence into the horse paddock.

  ‘Watch out you don’t step on a tennis ball,’ said Nerf.

  ‘They’re not tennis balls,’ I reminded him.

  We made it across the horse paddock and jumped the fence near the pond.

  The mother duck honked and flapped and snapped at us as we ran past.

  When we reached the house we collapsed on the steps, panting and exhausted.

  ‘I didn’t even get close enough to touch that beautiful tractor,’ said Nerf sadly.

  ‘We can’t give up,’ I said. ‘We can’t let that smell beat us.’ I sat up straight. ‘We will get to that tractor,’ I vowed.

  Nerf shook his head. ‘I’d like to believe you, Brian, I really would. But I just don’t see how we can possibly do it. That reek . . .’ His eyes grew wide as he remembered it. ‘It was so ripe and rotten it was scary. Almost as scary as these pumpkin heads your great-uncle carved.’

  I looked at the pumpkin heads. Great-Uncle McStinky had given them big triangles for eyes and creepy grinning mouths—but there was something not quite right about them. There was something missing . . .

  And suddenly I had an amazing idea.

  ‘Nerf,’ I said. ‘I’ve got it! Look at the pumpkin heads—they don’t have any noses! We can put them over our heads and we won’t smell a thing.’

  Nerf looked at me admiringly. ‘That’s brilliant, Brian,’ he said.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s no wonder everyone calls me Brain.’

  ‘Who calls you—?’

  ‘Which pumpkin head do you want?’ I interrupted.

  ‘They both look pretty evil,’ said Nerf.

  ‘That one reminds me of my sister,’ I said, pointing to the one on the left.

  Nerf looked around nervously. ‘You’d better not let Brain hear you say that.’

  ‘It’s Brenda,’ I said. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? My sister’s name is Brenda.’

  ‘But everyone calls her—’

  ‘Try this one.’ I picked up a pumpkin and put it over Nerf’s head.

  Then I pulled the second pumpkin over my own head. It smelled kind of fresh and sweet, definitely not ripe and rotten.

  ‘I’m a genius,’ I said. ‘Admit it, Nerf— I’m a genius.’

  There was no answer.

  ‘Nerf?’

  Nerf was staring at me, but he wasn’t saying a word.

  Then I realised. Not only did the pumpkins have no noses, they had no ears.

  ‘Nerf,’ I said, ‘take the pumpkin off your head.’

  Nerf just stared.

  ‘Take the pumpkin off your head!’

  He still stared.

  ‘TAKE THE PUMPKIN OFF YOUR HEAD!’

  Finally Nerf took the pumpkin off his head. ‘There’s just one problem with your brilliant idea, Brian,’ he said. ‘The pumpkins have no ears.’

  ‘We’ll have to think of something else,’ I said. ‘We need to be able to communicate.’ I kicked at a stick on the ground in frustration.

  ‘Hang on.’ Nerf picked up the stick I’d kicked. ‘Look at this stick,’ he said. ‘What does it remind you of?’

  ‘Um ... a stick?’ I said.

  Nerf picked up a second stick. ‘What about this one?’

  ‘Um . . . another stick?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what they remind me of,’ said Nerf. ‘Antennas.’

  Actually, now that he mentioned it, they d
id look a bit like antennas. And suddenly I understood what he was thinking. ‘You mean . . .?’

  Nerf nodded. ‘That’s right. If we attach sticks like these to the pumpkins, they can act as antennas. That way we’ll be able to pick up each other’s signals.’

  I have to admit, I was amazed by Nerf’s bright idea. Usually I’m the brainy one.

  We found two more sticks that looked like antennas, and then stuck the sticks into the top of the pumpkins.

  ‘Ready?’ I said.

  ‘Ready,’ said Nerf.

  We put the pumpkin heads back on.

  I pointed to the first paddock and Nerf gave me the thumbs-up. It was incredible: he had picked up my signal immediately! The antennas were working perfectly.

  We walked past the pond. Instead of chasing us, the mother duck backed away.

  We climbed the fence and walked through the horse paddock.

  The horse gave us a funny look as we passed. Perhaps he didn’t recognise us with the pumpkin heads on.

  A whole pile of fresh tennis balls appeared behind him, but I didn’t smell a thing. It was a very good sign.

  We continued on our way.

  We climbed the fence and entered the cow paddock.

  The cows all stopped to stare as we passed, almost as if they’d never seen anyone wearing a pumpkin head before.

  One let out a stream of undried frisbees right near us, but I still didn’t smell a thing.

  It was a very, very good sign.

  We continued on our way.

  As I climbed the fence into the paddock where the tractor was, I had a good sniff. The only thing I smelled was pumpkin. Yes! We’d done it!

  I turned to face Nerf and punched the air, and he immediately punched the air too— there was no smell and the antennas were still receiving signals perfectly!

  I was halfway across the paddock, walking quickly towards the tractor, when Nerf grabbed my arm and yanked on it so hard he almost pulled me off my feet.

  It was a strong signal, but I didn’t quite understand it. I fiddled with my antennas to see if I could make it clearer.