‘Stop it, Craig!’ she giggles. ‘That tickles! Stop please, no!’
The bed buckles and thumps down on my chest.
I gasp. Something catches in my throat. I gulp.
Oh no.
I just swallowed the spider!
‘Aaaaaggghhhhh!’ I scream.
‘What’s that?’ says Craig.
They’ve heard me, but I don’t care. All I care about is the spider.
What if it bites me on the inside? That’s worse than getting bitten on the outside. The poison will go straight into my bloodstream. I could be dead within minutes.
I’m gagging and coughing, trying to get it out. I’m too young to die.
‘It’s the bogeyman!’ screams Jen. ‘He’s under the bed!’
Craig’s face appears beside me.
‘Bogeyboy more like,’ he says. ‘It’s your stupid little brother.’
He grabs my arm and drags me out.
But I don’t care. He’s doing me a favour. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get to a hospital before the poison takes effect. Before the convulsions start.
‘Andy!’ says Jen.
I try to stand up. It’s not easy because I’m so stiff from having been cramped under the bed for so long. Or maybe it’s the first sign of the poison setting in. Maybe my whole body will seize up and I won’t be able to move!
I stagger to the door.
‘Stop him!’ says Jen.
Craig strides across the room. He pushes me away from the door and stands with his back against it.
‘Not so fast, buddy,’ he says, rolling up his shirt sleeves. ‘I think we need to have a little talk.’
Jen gets up from the bed and joins Craig at the door.
‘What were you doing under there?’ she says.
‘Yeah, you little weirdo!’ says Craig. ‘Explain!’
‘I haven’t got time to explain,’ I say. ‘I have to get to the hospital. It’s a matter of life or death.’
Craig snorts.
‘It’s a matter of life or death all right,’ he says, ‘but you won’t need a hospital by the time I’ve finished with you. You’ll be going straight to the morgue!’
‘Yeah, you’re in big trouble, Andy,’ says Jen. ‘Wait till I tell Mum and Dad!’
You do that and I’ll tell them you got home late and you had Craig in your room!’ I say.
‘I’ll just deny it,’ says Jen.
‘But it’s true!’ I say.
‘I know that and you know that,’ says Jen. ‘But who do you think Mum and Dad are going to believe? Me or you?’
She’s got a point but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. I’m going to die.
‘Please let me go,’ I beg. ‘I swear I won’t tell anybody anything. Just let me go.’
Suddenly I feel the most extraordinary sensation at the back of my throat.
‘Are you all right, Andy?’ says Jen. ‘You’ve gone green!’
‘Probably just another one of his dumb tricks,’ says Craig.
‘No,’ says Jen. ‘Look at him. I think there really is something wrong.’
I can’t speak. I gag and cough. It’s like when you touch the back of your throat to make yourself sick . . . only it’s not me doing the touching. It’s the spider! It’s trying to get out. I gag again. Something flies out of my mouth and lands on the carpet.
Something wet.
Something furry.
Something disgusting.
We all stare at it. A leg extends from the furry blob—and another and another and another.
That is truly gross, but better out than in I guess.
It starts dragging itself across the carpet towards the door. Towards Craig and Jen.
Jen screams. Craig screams too. Even louder than Jen.
They both run from the door back to the bed. They are huddled in the corner clutching each other, staring at me in horror.
‘Go away!’ screams Jen. ‘Get out!’
So this is what it’s like to be the bogeyman. This is what it’s like to have people terrified of you. I could get used to this.
I make a big show of licking my lips. I look down at the spider.
‘Nice flavour,’ I say. ‘But a bit hairy. Either of you want to try it?’
Jen puts a hand over her mouth. Craig goes white.
‘What’s the matter?’ I say. ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’
They shake their heads.
I move towards the door. My work here is done.
‘Sweet dreams,’ I say.
f all the things I’ve ever done, this would have to be the most stupid.
I’m lying on my back squashed into a pram. Sucking a dummy. Waving a Porky Pig rattle. Wearing a nappy.
Danny is pushing me down the hill. He can hardly walk for laughing.
‘Googoo gaga!’ I gurgle.
‘Good baby,’ says Danny.
We spent the whole morning walking around the streets inspecting the piles of junk left on everybody’s nature strips for the hard rubbish collection tomorrow. That’s where we found the pram. It’s a big old-fashioned one with large wheels, curved mudguards and a high chrome handle. The
pram is a bit battered, but it still goes, and it’s got great suspension. And as if that wasn’t enough, there was a garbage bag full of old baby clothes and toys to go with it.
Putting on a nappy and going for a ride just seemed like the obvious thing to do.
The dummy is starting to taste a bit rubbery. I take a deep breath and spit it out. It hits Danny in the eye.
‘Bad baby!’ says Danny. He lets the pram go.
I start to roll down the hill. I scream.
Danny grabs the pram.
‘Just tricking!’ he says.
‘Good one,’ I say.
He lets go again.
I roll for a couple more seconds, but this time I’m only a little bit worried. He grabs the pram again.
‘You’re an idiot,’ I say.
‘What am I?’ he says.
‘An idiot.’
He lets go again.
I roll faster this time. He lets me roll a few metres.
‘Danny?’ I say.
He laughs and runs to catch me. But just as he’s about to grab the pram, he trips and falls flat on his face.
The pram takes off down the hill. For real this time.
‘Danny!’ I yell.
I’m flying down the hill. I’d try and jump out but I’m going too fast. But if I don’t jump, I’m going to cross the road at the bottom of the hill and smash into number 21’s brick fence.
I see a man watering his nature strip. It’s Mr Broadbent, our next-door neighbour.
‘Mr B!’ I yell. ‘Mr B! Help!’
He turns around.
I’m kneeling up in the pram waving my Porky Pig rattle.
‘I can’t stop!’ I yell. ‘Stretch your hose across the road!’
He shakes his head and turns back to his watering.
Mr B and I don’t get along too well. I know I can be a bit annoying at times, but that’s no excuse for ignoring a fellow human being in distress.
‘You’ll be sorry!’ I yell back.
I look over my shoulder at number 21’s rapidly approaching brick fence. Actually, I think it’s me who’s going to be sorry unless . . . unless . . .
I look at the Porky Pig rattle. I can use it as a brake! I reach down and jam it in the wheel spokes. The rattle shatters. Thanks for nothing, Porky.
What do I do now?
I notice that the pram is veering slightly to the right. Maybe if I leaned over a bit more I could get round the corner . . . away from the fence and down the next hill.
That hill is even steeper and it has an intersection at the end. But it does eventually level out, and the traffic shouldn’t be too bad at this time of day. It’s got to be worth a try.
I lean over the side and look back at Danny. He’s running down the hill, but there’s no way he’s going to reach me in tim
e.
The pram is almost tipping over. I’m on two wheels! Sparks are flying off the wheel rims. But it’s working. I hear the sound of metal screaming. I close my eyes. I open them again and look over the top of the pram bonnet. The hill seems steeper than I remembered—but then I haven’t seen it from this perspective before.
I hear barking. I look across the road. It’s the bull terrier from number 19.
‘So long, dog-breath!’ I call. He throws himself against the fence.
Everything’s going my way now. I’ve even got a green light at the intersection.
Oh no—I don’t believe it!
I had a green light.
Now it’s yellow.
Now red.
Now I’m in trouble.
The crossroad is full of traffic. On either side, there are cars, buses, trucks and motorbikes. All ready to take off. Right over the top of me.
I have to make them stop. But how?
I know!
I grab the bag of baby gear and pull out a baby doll. It’s pretty wrecked, but it’s still very realistic. It might just do the trick.
‘Sorry about this,’ I say, ‘but it’s either you or me.’
I throw the doll as far ahead of the pram as I can. It lands right in front of all the traffic.
The cars and trucks squeal to a halt. I rocket into the intersection. There’s nothing in my way. Well, nothing except for the doll.
The pram hits the doll and flips up into the air. I hang onto the sides as it does a complete somersault. Radical! All I have to do now is land safely.
I look over the side of the pram. I’m heading for a fire hydrant.
SMASH!
The fire hydrant casing comes off and a fountain of water sprays out the side. It blasts the back of the pram and sends me hurtling down the stretch of road that I was hoping to slow down on.
I hear a huffing and panting sound behind me. Thank goodness. Danny!
I look around.
Uh-oh.
It’s not Danny. It’s the bull terrier from number 19. He’s broken out and is chasing me. He’s gaining on me too.
I grab my bag of baby stuff and pull out the first thing that comes to hand. A plastic bottle. I throw it at the dog. It hits the road and bounces off into the gutter.
I reach into the bag again. I grab something smooth and hard. A container of baby powder. Perfect! I can create a smokescreen that will choke the dog and give me time to disappear.
I throw the powder. It hits the ground. The container explodes. An enormous cloud of perfumed white powder billows out behind me.
But it doesn’t stop the dog. He runs straight through it as if it was . . . well . . . baby powder I guess. The only difference now is that he’s whiter. And madder. And he’s gaining on me.
I have to speed up! I’ve got a strong tail wind. Why not take advantage of it? I remove my nappy Lucky I left my undies on. There’s a wire coathanger in the pram, so I rig the nappy up on a sort of coathanger sail-frame. The wind catches the nappy and I go speeding forwards. Soon the dog is just a speck in the distance.
I hear bells. Uh-oh. Bells can mean only one thing. A railway crossing!
A train is heading for the crossing and the boom gates are coming down. But it’s okay. I think I’m going fast enough to make it under the gates and across the tracks in time.
I push the pram bonnet down so it doesn’t catch on the gate and duck right down so I don’t hit my head.
I come to a sudden stop. I made it under the boom gate all right, but now the wheels are stuck in the tracks. The train is almost on top of me.
I close my eyes.
This is it. The big one. What a stupid way to go. Sitting in a pram wearing nothing but a pair of undies.
Then, above the dinging of the bell and the roar of the train, I hear the huffing and panting again.
I look up. It’s the dog. Barrelling towards me with his head down. He’s going to give the pram the headbutt of the century.
‘No!’ I yell. ‘Stop! There’s no sense in both of us dying!’
WHAM!
The force of the dog hitting the back of the pram sends me hurtling forwards across the tracks, under the boom gate and speeding off down the road again.
I look behind me. The train is clattering through the crossing. The dog is nowhere to be seen. But I can’t worry about him now— I’ve got problems of my own.
I’m heading towards two men carrying a large sheet of glass. They see me coming. Their faces drop.
I veer left so that they can keep going across the road. But they go left.
I veer right to try to squeeze through the gap on the other side. But they go right.
‘Get out of the way!’ I yell.
Now they’re just going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth . . .
I notice a road off to the right. I’ve got to take it. I lean over to get the pram onto two wheels again.
There is a great crash of breaking glass. I glance behind me. It’s the dog! He’s just run right through the sheet of glass. He is indestructible. The men are waving their arms and yelling.
‘Stop!’ they yell. ‘Eewayamp!’
What? Are they crazy? Eewayamp? What’s an eewayamp?
I turn around. I’m not on a road at all. I’m on a FREEWAY RAMP!
And even worse, I’m heading towards a big red sign that says WRONG WAY GO BACK.
I can’t. I’m going too fast. I’m going to be on the freeway in seconds.
But the ramp has a sharp bend. There’s no way I can make that turn.
I crash into the kerb. I go flying out of the pram, over the sign and over the sound protection barrier.
I’m hurtling down into somebody’s backyard. This is going to hurt. Think of the biggest and baddest bike accident you ever had and then multiply it by fifteen thousand. Now take that number and raise it to the power of ten. It’s probably going to be about seventeen million times worse than that.
I don’t believe it! A trampoline.
I land on my stomach and bounce down so hard that for a moment I feel the ground through the thin layer of trampoline rubber. But it’s only for a moment. I shoot back up into the air. Away from the trampoline. Away from the backyard and towards a high wooden fence. I think I’m going to make it, but it’s going to be close.
I flap my arms to give me extra lift.
I skim over the top of the fence . . . but only just. A nail catches my undies and they’re pulled off me as I sail over.
I’m flying through the air.
Naked.
Actually it’s not such a bad feeling. In fact it’s kind of nice. I can feel the wind on places I’ve never felt the wind on before.
And my luck seems to be holding.
I’m heading for a swimming pool!
It seems strangely familiar.
A man and a woman are lying on banana lounges by the side of the pool. They seem familiar too, but I haven’t got time to work out why. I have to prepare for splashdown.
I close my eyes and make my body into an upside-down ‘V shape so that I don’t go too deep.
SPLASH!
A perfect landing.
I swim to the surface, shake my head and wipe my eyes.
Uh-oh.
Now I know why the man and the woman look familiar.
It’s my dad’s boss. And his wife.
‘Hi, Mr Bainbridge! Hi, Mrs Bainbridge!’ I say. ‘Just thought I’d drop in.’
I don’t know why they are looking so surprised. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve appeared in front of them, without warning, without my pants. There was the time I got stuck in their bathroom window. And the time I fell through the dining room roof. But to be fair, I guess this is the most spectacular.
‘I guess you’re wondering how I got here,’ I say. ‘Well I can explain . . .’
Mr Bainbridge holds up his hand.
‘No, please don’t, Andy,’ he says, getting up out of his chair. ‘It’s not neces
sary. I’ll just go and ring your father.’
Mrs Bainbridge is holding her hands up to her eyes. Mr Bainbridge helps her up and they go inside.
I kick back and float across the pool.
I can’t believe it. I survived. That was the most terrifying ride of my life.
I can’t wait to get home, fix up the pram and do it all over again.
s far as I’m concerned the only good thing about fancy restaurants is that they have candles on the tables.
‘Watch this,’ I say to Danny.
I pass my hand slowly through the candle flame and then hold it up to show him the black mark left on my fingers.
‘How tough is that?’ I say.
‘That’s nothing,’ says Danny. ‘Watch this!’
Danny rolls up his sleeve and passes his hand across the flame. But he doesn’t keep going. He stops halfway. The candle is burning him. Danny is crazy.
He jerks his hand out of the flame and shakes it back and forth.
‘Ouch, ooch, itch, utch, eech,’ he says. He bites his lip and looks up at the ceiling.
‘I beg your pardon?’ I say.
‘Hot,’ he says, shaking his hand. ‘Really hot!’
Mum gives us a withering look.
‘Would you stop that!’ she says.
‘Stop what?’ I say.
‘Stop playing with the candles.’
‘We’re not playing,’ I say. ‘We’re performing amazing feats of bravery and endurance.’
She gives me another withering look. It’s even more withering than the last one. In fact it’s the witheringest look I’ve ever received. I’m surprised that the little pink flowers in the middle of the table didn’t just keel over and die from it.
‘Just don’t,’ she says.
I sigh and slump in my chair.
I thought tonight would be boring—but not this boring. I didn’t want to come, but Mum insisted. She won a meal for four in a radio competition and thought it would be nice to take the family out somewhere special. Jen got out of it because it’s her boyfriend’s birthday. I said I would only come if I could bring Danny along for company.
Just Stupid! Page 4