Thanks a squillion, Mum. You don’t even know your own son.
I went to bed early, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept giggling about B4 surrounded by cardboard boxes at the bottom of the ramp. It had been so great a moment I hadn’t thought what would happen next. I stopped giggling when I started thinking about what B4 might do to me now. Not funny at all. You are for it, Monster.
Then I thought: Snap out of it, boy—you’re the smart one. Don’t wait here, scared he might come and get you in the night. Go after him now. Shadow him.
I set my alarm for midnight.
10
At half past midnight on Thursday morning, there I was again with Mum’s tights on my head. I was standing behind a tree across the road from B4’s. I was watching his bedroom. The light was on. Someone was moving around inside. The light went off. Everything was dark. The front door opened and B4 came out. He limped into his garage and came out wearing a balaclava. Much worse than that: he was carrying the air gun.
I didn’t follow him. OK, you can call me a wimp. I just didn’t think I could stop him and I didn’t want to see him killing things. And I’d had a much better idea. I decided to search his room while he was out. His cruelty had made me brave. B4 had to be stopped.
He lived in a bungalow. The window of his bedroom was open. I climbed in. It was that easy. Now, where do you start a search? How do you find one piece of A4 lined paper which could be anywhere in the whole of the known universe? And in the dark, too. I felt my way over to a bed. I sat on it.
‘Waaaaaaa!’
There was someone in the bed I’d sat on! It was someone very big. B4’s elder brother!
I hurled myself onto the floor and rolled under the other bed. I waited, holding my nose so the dust under B4’s bed and the stench of his running shoes didn’t make me sneeze. B4’s brother turned over, swore at B4, and went back to sleep. I waited for ages to make sure, then I gave up my search and crept over to the window.
A cop car cruised around the corner just as I was sitting astride the windowsill. The headlights swung around and pow! They hit me full-on. The cop car stopped.
I leapt down and ran for it, through the back garden, into the woods, along the short cut, all the way home. But they’d seen me. They knew who I was. I’d be for it.
No cops phoned in the night. No cops came to breakfast. I went to school as usual, like any other Thursday. Sis stayed in her room.
I was so tired I’d forgotten that today was the day of the dreaded school conference. I hadn’t worked out what I was going to say. There was no time. As soon as I got to school the principal told me we were starting the conference when everyone arrived.
We sat in her room, waiting. I tried not to yawn because it would be a clue for her to ask ‘Where were you last night?’ I swallowed the yawns. I filled up with air. I felt as though I’d fly away or pop. I had to run out of the room without explaining what I was doing. I knew what would happen if I opened my mouth.
The principal thought I was trying to escape. She grabbed me and dragged me back. As she pushed me through the door my stomach touched the door knob. That was all it took.
‘Waaaaaaa!’
The sound was like one of those dolls that wail when you bend them. The principal let go of me. I started to apologize, in my own version of sign language. I didn’t dare open my mouth in case—
The door burst open and in came Mum and Dad. They had with them the vet and the cop.
The cop started in with: ‘Doing a spot of breaking and entering last night then, eh?’
‘What?’ shouted Mum and Dad.
‘Probably killing more cats as well,’ said the vet.
‘What?’ shouted Mum and Dad again.
The door burst open once more and in came Darrin’s dad. He’d been looking for me, he said, for a little chat. I smiled at him because I didn’t want to speak. He raised his huge hands to my neck. An odd way to start a chat. He said I’d shot his cat and tried to harm his daughter.
The principal said we had to be calm and would we please sit down. We sat down. I sat as far away from Mr Egan as possible.
‘Now,’ said the principal, ‘let’s begin.’
The door burst open again and in hurtled Stone Face. His vacuum-cleaner-bristle attachments were revving with anger. He reckoned I’d shot at his garage door last night.
‘Monster!’ said Mum and Dad.
‘Order!’ said the principal. ‘Now, let’s begin.’
The door opened again and in came a mushroom-coloured woman who looked as if she’d never seen the sun.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she murmured. ‘I couldn’t find my cat this morning.’
‘There you are! What did I say?’ screamed the vet.
‘I’d locked him in the garage last night by mistake,’ said the mushroom-coloured woman. ‘Silly me.’
‘And just what are you doing here?’ asked the principal.
‘I’m the psychologist. I’m here to interview the boy who—’
‘Let’s begin.’
The door burst open again and in rushed the woman from the shopping mall. She was waving a bottle of dishwashing liquid around and yelling about school children shoplifting in broad daylight. ‘That’s him! That’s the thief!’ she yelled.
‘Be quiet!’ yelled the principal. ‘We must start this meeting now.’
The door burst open again and B4’s mum arrived, furious about the ‘break-in’ at her house. She reckoned thousands of dollars’ worth of priceless jewellery had been taken. She also reckoned her eldest son had been assaulted in his bed, and that her younger son had been beaten up at the shopping mall. She was planning to sue for damages.
The principal shut the door, locked it, and said, ‘Let’s begin our meeting about Monster, er, Brewster. To start off, let’s list what this boy’s done wrong.’
They all started talking at once, arguing with each other, banging their fists on the tables and chair arms. Stone Face was the worst behaved.
‘Quiet!’ yelled the principal. ‘One at a time.’
They made their list. I just sat and watched.
Sis so traumatized by something Monster did, she won’t even go to school
vandalizing his own father’s lawn
killing cats
breaking and entering
stealing jewels
tormenting little children (that’s what the principal wrote—Mr Egan said ‘Hanging my daughter’)
hooliganism (that was the car)
attempted abduction of B4’s brother
spying on the girls’ toilets
stealing lunches at school and dishwashing liquid at the shopping mall
beating up innocent B4 in the shopping mall.
When they all had a copy of the list in front of them, the principal asked them for comments.
The cop said I was a nasty piece of work.
‘I don’t entirely agree,’ said the psychologist. ‘We have to search for reasons for this cruelty. The combination of spying on the girls in the toilets and sitting in a cardboard box outside his sister’s room all night, and trying to climb into bed with your son’—B4’s mother harrumphed like an elephant—‘makes me think he has problems of gender orientation.’
‘Orient?’ What did that mean? Something to do with studying Asia for social studies? I couldn’t figure it out. But I didn’t have to. They weren’t asking me. They weren’t taking any notice of me. I was just sitting there by the window, looking at all their feet close together under the table. I was building up a plan to crawl under the table and tie all their shoelaces together.
‘What are we going to do about it?’ asked the principal softly.
‘A good beating.’ That was Stone Face. I saw the glint in his eye. No thanks.
The counsellor said I should go to a camp for bad boys. I thought of all the B4s there’d be at such a camp. No thanks.
The cop said I should spend a night in his cells. I thought of the night I’d just spent cramped in a
cardboard box to guard Sis. No thanks.
The vet said I should be stood against a wall and have an air gun fired at my backside. I thought of the dead cat. No thanks.
Darrin’s dad said the whole damn family should move away from his nice neighbourhood before the property values fell through the floor. I looked at the floorboards. They looked OK so far.
B4’s mum said I should pay her for the missing jewels. I thought I’d find them hidden under her bed. But no one would believe me so I said nothing.
The mushroom-coloured psychologist said I needed to work on my emerging sexuality. I thought that might mean watching R16 movies. OK by me.
The detergent shopper said I should buy her some new dishwashing liquid, the super family size. I thought of all my savings already gone to the vet.
Mum said I should go to Aunt Mildred’s. No! No way!
I stood it as long as I could. I was quiet. I didn’t freak. But inside I was hurting real bad. There was this terrible feeling of the injustice of it all. It was so unfair. It couldn’t be happening.
Then I heard a snort. From outside. From under the windowsill. It could mean only one thing.
Even though I didn’t have a cape, I did a Superman lunge for the window. I threw myself out of it and on top of B4. I beat him up as hard as a little guy can beat up a big guy. Then I leapt off him and ran away. I was never coming back to school or home, ever.
11
Iended up going home. No one arrested me, sent me to camp, threw me in a cell or filled me full of shot. Mum and Dad weren’t there. Sis was in her room. She poked her nose out the door and asked me if I had the letter yet.
‘What d’you think I am? Superman?’
‘No. You’re a useless dork.’
I crawled into the garage to cuddle Pus and talk to my favourite spiders. Apart from them, I was alone and miserable.
While I slobbered no-one-likes-me words onto Pus’s head, a hardened crim was going free; free to kill cats, to mess up Sis’s life, to get me into trouble at school, and to hang little kids up in their jackets.
Pus glared at me. He wanted to be put on the ground. I wanted to hold onto him. He won. I sat on the sheep-pellet compost mix and watched him lapping milk from the far side of his bowl without getting any drops on his chest. Little midge things dive-bombed him. He wrinkled his nose or twitched his ears when they landed. He just kept on lapping.
I fanned the midges away and cleaned the bowls with the mats from the floor of the car. I polished the bowls with the rug from the car’s back seat. And all the time I was being nice to Pus, I was having toxic thoughts about B4.
He will not go free. I slammed the smelly meat bowl down on a trail of ants.
I will use all of my trickery skills to get him good and proper. I flung the water bowl down.
Justice will not prevail. I stomped around the garage. The midges followed me. Slap! I hate them around my neck. Yuck! Get out!
And then the light-bulb thing went on in my head, only this time it was so powerful it was more like a spot light at a night league game. I was about to have a great idea!
I slapped at another midge. The idea came. Just like that! Yep. I had it. I had a plan to trick B4 and make him confess all.
Mum told me at dinner that the policeman would be around to talk to me the next afternoon, after school.
Dad told me the vet was coming the next afternoon after school to take the kitten. He was giving it to the Egans.
‘So what? Don’t care.’
Sis told me, in her room that evening, I was still her slave and I had to get the letter or else.
I told her I had an idea. Mighty Monster, Marvel Trickster, was up and running!
I went to school the next morning, Friday, as if no conference had happened. I wasn’t expelled. Everyone, even Stone Face, treated me very carefully. No one mentioned my fight with B4. No one mentioned the conference at all. Obviously they were planning something so horrific they weren’t letting on.
That was OK with me. I was planning something pretty horrific, too.
I started my plan at playtime. I was sitting with Muggeridge under B4’s classroom windows. I said in an ultra-loud voice that Sis was going swimming that afternoon. I must have said it ten times.
After school I followed B4. He went home for his swim stuff, like I knew he would, and then…guess where? To the pool. I sat on the pool steps watching him showing off his turn skills to a bunch of girls. Then I nipped into the changing sheds and unscrewed the showerhead on the one and only hot shower. I put a few crushed barley-sugar sweets into the showerhead and screwed the thing back up again.
I sauntered out and told a gasping B4 that Sis was at home waiting for him and I strolled back into the changing shed to make sure no one used the hot shower. I whistled because I was a bit nervous.
B4 came flap-flapping into the shed and headed straight for the one and only hot shower. Just like I knew he would. He’d never, ever use the cold showers. He slapped at a midge that landed unwisely on his leg.
‘Bloody insects,’ he said.
‘They don’t go bloody if you don’t hit them,’ I said.
‘Ha, ha, ha!’
He was under the shower for ages, until all the hot water was gone. Just like I knew he would. That’s the sort of guy he is. Then he pulled his shirt on without drying himself. Just like I knew he would. He stuffed his feet into his running shoes and left.
It was easy shadowing him. He went to my place. Just like I knew he would. I didn’t close the gap until we were half a block from the gate. Then I sprinted up.
‘Hey, d’yer want a big apple from the top of our tree? You could take one up for Sis, too.’
He’s greedy. He fell for it. Just like I knew he would. And I bet he never saw Snow White.
I took him around the side of the house, down the bottom of the back garden to the huge tree. I’d put the deck chair under the tree.
B4 scratched himself. Good. The sticky barley-sugar must be making him all itchy.
‘Oooh,’ I said, ‘looks like Sis is going to sunbathe.’ And I looked straight up into the dark green leaves of the tree. He paused, then he said, ‘Don’t tell her I’m here, eh?’, winked at me, and climbed up the tree. Just like I knew he would.
When he’d disappeared up among the leaves I walked around the other side of the tree where Dad’s pride-and-joy compost bins were lined up. I took the lids off all of them. The one I’d put the uneaten cat meat in was really buzzing. Clouds of flies, midges and wasps hummed into the air.
They smelt barley-sugar body lotion, their favourite perfume.
‘Hey, guys,’ said the leader, ‘follow me!’ They went for it. Just like I knew they would. Yum. Bite. Yum. Sting. Yumm yum.
‘Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!!’
‘Don’t move!’ I called to B4. ‘They sting you more if you move.’
12
I rushed into the kitchen where Mum and Dad were trying to entertain the vet and the cop. ‘No, we don’t know where the kitten is,’ Mum was saying.
‘I’ll stay until I find him,’ said the vet.
‘Ah, there’s Monster!’
I rushed out again. The cop and the vet chased me to the tree. They were too slow.
I shinned up the tree quickly until I got to where the cloud of insects was buzzing away, licking, nibbling, sucking, biting, stinging, and eating the delicious honey-dipped flesh I’d gift-wrapped for their tea. B4 was crouched in a ball, shaking. He was covered with flies, midges and wasps.
‘I’ll pull my guard flies off if you tell me where Sis’s letter is,’ I said through the side of my mouth so no flies got in.
He said it was in his school bag, on the back of his bike, in his garage. I scrambled down the tree and yelled the information up at Sis’s window. Then I set my phone to audio-record and walked back up to the tree.
While the cop and the vet stood there, listening, and not knowing about the insect feeding-frenzy going on high up in the tree, I shouted up t
o B4 a series of carefully planned questions based on the list of eleven crimes the principal had written down. He screamed the answers down to me.
‘Yes. Yes. Yes…!’
I didn’t actually ask him all the questions. I left one out. Then I turned to the cop.
‘I think that’s your man’ was all I said. I walked away to freedom. On my way I put the lids back on the compost bins.
Mum asked me what I’d like for dinner, so I knew everything was going to be all right. The cop became very chatty with Mum, once she was in the kitchen chopping tomatoes and grating cheese. He said it was great he’d sorted everything out.
‘But,’ he said, ‘that boy of yours has got to be watched. In my opinion he’s still showing signs of disturbing cruelty.’
‘Oh, dear,’ said Mum.
‘Yep. Stinging that unfortunate lad was excessive. No need for that when your son could have just told the truth and I would have believed him.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Mum, sounding very like a cloud of about-to-sting wasps.
Sis roller-bladed around the side of the house with a piece of paper in her hand. Her letter! She heard the cop. She let him have it. ‘I’ll have you know my little brother is the greatest little brother there is. So there.’
That shut him up. The cop slid into his car and drove off. I don’t think he liked the rattle and bang it made. It was only a small rock I’d put in the back left hubcap. Just a little mystery for the cop to think about.
Later we were all in the sitting room. Just Mum, Dad, Sis and me. Dad and I had cleared up after the gigantic spaghetti we’d all eaten. While I was in the kitchen Sis had grabbed the best chair, just like she always used to do, before B4. Mum said, ‘Where’s the kitten?’
I rushed to the garage. The kitten’s box was empty. The self-serve mini-bar of bowls was almost empty of meat and milk, but very full of ants.
No Pus. I’d been so busy planning and carrying out my trick I’d forgotten him. It didn’t feel good.
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