by Glenn Wood
Lester struggled to free himself from the man’s grip, but he was held too tightly. He was aware that every person in the cafeteria had stopped what they were doing, watching him. His cheeks burned.
The man repeated himself. “I asked you if you had any manners, you vile child. Answer me.”
Lester didn’t know what to say so he said nothing. Tears of confusion and embarrassment stung his eyes.
His silence enraged the big man whose face changed from red to purple. The man grabbed a pad and a black marker and wrote the words “I’m a bad boy” on a piece of paper, then taped it to Lester’s chest. He lifted Lester off the ground and placed him on a desk next to the lunch queue. The man roared to the watching crowd. “I want you all to take a good look at this ill-mannered troublemaker. This rude fellow will eat lunch last for the rest of the term.” The man then stood beside Lester to make sure he stayed on the desk.
As the line of sniggering, pointing children filed past him, Lester vowed revenge on all of them. “If you say I’m bad, then I will be,” he swore.
Lester didn’t go back to that school (which mysteriously burned down the following week), but the mocking laughter of the supposedly good children was etched into his brain. It was the beginning of a lifelong hatred of society and its accepted rules of behaviour. By his early teens Lester found that any display of goodness was physically repugnant to him. On one occasion he actually threw up because he saw a teenager on a bus give his seat to an old lady.
At age twenty, Lester focused his considerable intelligence on one goal – designing a machine that could suck the goodness clean out of a person’s head. Six months later he created the Mark One Brain Sucker. Unfortunately, it had a significant flaw. It sucked out the goodness no problem at all, but it took half the brain as well. Lester discovered this side effect when his first test subject woke up as a foul-mouthed, blithering idiot. Ironically, the man went on to have a successful career as a school principal.
After this hiccup Lester decided to concentrate his efforts on children. He did some rather unpleasant tests that are, frankly, too disturbing to describe and discovered that the goodness in children wasn’t yet fully formed and hadn’t spread throughout the brain. Instead it clustered together in a living, pulsating green mass near the frontal lobe. This was great news for Lester as it would make the goodness much easier to extract.
Armed with this information, Lester invented the Mark Two Brain Sucker. This machine was a vast improvement on the Mark One. It sucked the goodness out but left the brain intact. And except for a craving for fried onions, it had no side effects at all.
Lester had been sucking the goodness from the kids of the city for fifteen years now and was growing impatient with his progress. Sure, a lot of the kids who’d been brain sucked were growing up to be rude and spiteful adults. And he was pleased to see they were making the city a thoroughly unpleasant place, but it was all happening too slowly for Lester. At the rate he was going he would never complete his goal of eradicating goodness from the world. He needed help, which was why he was attempting to school his henchmen in the art of brain sucking.
He placed the Mark Two Brain Sucker on the desktop and turned to Darryl and Parson. “Any more stupid questions?”
They shook their heads.
Lester passed the brain sucker to Darryl. “Right then, practise on Parson.”
“No way.” Parson backed away in fear and held up his long arms.
Lester grinned and took a child’s doll out of his desk drawer. “I was kidding. Use this.”
He tossed the doll to Darryl who caught it in his huge hands, then tried to attach the suction cup to its ear. He snapped the doll’s head right off.
Lester sighed. “We want to suck out their goodness – not kill them.”
Darryl tried again. This time he dropped the doll. Then he dropped the thermos. Then he dropped the doll and the thermos.
After watching Darryl mess it up seven times in a row, Lester gave up. “As you seem to have the dexterity of a concrete block, your job on this mission will be lookout. Clearly you are useless at everything else.”
Darryl looked hurt. Parson felt sorry for him. “He could release the knockout gas, boss.”
Darryl looked at Lester hopefully.
“All right,” Lester conceded. “Even a trained monkey couldn’t mess that up.”
He pulled a purple globe out of his desk and carefully passed it to Darryl. Lester pointed to a parking garage that adjoined his office.
“When I give you the signal, squeeze the ball gently then roll it into the garage …” was what Lester was going to say, but he didn’t get a chance. Darryl took the ball in his huge hand and immediately crushed it. Purple knockout gas spewed from his palm. Ten seconds later, Lester, Parson and Darryl fell unconscious onto the office floor.
Four
Callum woke the morning before the trip with a brilliant idea. He flipped off his bed into his wheelchair and raced to his grandmother’s room, stopping in the doorway.
His grandmother sat fully dressed in front of her mirror, immaculately groomed once again. Callum watched as she brushed her grey hair in short, even strokes and waited for her to notice him.
Rose saw him in the mirror and smiled. “Come in, Callum. Did you sleep well?”
Callum rolled over to her. “Yes, thank you, Gran. Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly, go ahead.”
Callum hesitated. He had to phrase this exactly right.
“You know how tomorrow we’re going to the city. I was thinking how much easier it would be for you if we brought Soph and Jinx along.” Callum didn’t give his grandmother a chance to respond before launching into the rest of his pitch.
“They can help with my wheelchair and with navigating around the city. They’ll be no trouble. They’re really quiet, and Soph’s great with kids so the three of us will be able to keep Mitchell and Bradley out of your hair. And we’ve still got a few days of school holidays left. Can they come? Can they?”
“So you think they’ll be helpful, do you?”
Callum nodded so hard his head nearly fell off.
With a wry smile, his grandmother stood and headed towards the kitchen. “Well, I suppose a couple of extra hands could be useful.”
Rose stopped at the refrigerator and pulled out some eggs for breakfast. Callum waited patiently for her to continue.
“If their parents agree, then it’s fine by me.”
“Thanks, Gran. I’ll go ask them.” Callum gave his grandmother a quick hug then spun his wheelchair and headed out the door.
Rose called him back. “Might I suggest you get dressed first?”
Callum glanced down and blushed. He was still in his pyjamas.
He got dressed in a flash and was at Sophie’s house twenty minutes later. Callum found his friend in the workshop as usual, listlessly dismantling the battle tank.
“I take it you’re not doing that voluntarily,” he said.
“No,” muttered Sophie as she removed the engine. “The Dudmans are still on the warpath and this is part of my punishment.”
“Shame. It was a great tank.”
Sophie nodded. “I can’t come outside either. My parents want me to keep a low profile.”
“I think I can help with that.”
Callum explained the trip to Sophie.
Her eyes lit up. “That’d be great. I’ll go and ask Mum.”
Sophie rushed out of the garage and returned soon after with permission to go.
“They thought me going away was a brilliant idea.” She paused. “Should I be worried that my parents looked relieved when I asked to leave town for a few days?”
Callum laughed. “Worried, yes. Surprised, no. I’ll go and see Jinx then tell Gran the good news.”
Sophie went back to the bench. “Okay, cool. I’ll put a kit together for the city.”
Callum wasn’t sure what she meant, but it made him very nervous. He chewed on Sophie’s commen
ts all the way to Jinx’s house, but then let it drop. He guessed he’d find out what her city kit looked like soon enough.
Arriving at Jinx’s place, he was surprised, as he always was, to find the house still standing. It had probably been an ordinary two-storey weatherboard home once – before the Pattersons, or more specifically Jinx, moved in. Now it looked like a disaster area (which in many ways it was). The roof was a patchwork of old and new tiles, where it had been repaired over and over again due to being struck by everything from lightning to giant hailstones and probably the odd meteorite. The walls leaned slightly to the left, and the whole house sagged on its battered foundations.
Callum squelched up the sodden path to the front door. A flash flood had engulfed their yard (and only their yard) a few days earlier, which was strange because there hadn’t been any rain in Thanxton for several months. Callum rang the doorbell, which gave one last pathetic bing bong before exploding. Jinx answered the door. He glanced at the smoking remains of the doorbell. “You’re a witness. I didn’t do that.”
Callum smiled. “Don’t worry, mate. I’ll back you up.”
“I get blamed for everything that goes wrong around here. And really, I’m only responsible for about eighty per cent of it, maybe eighty-five.”
“Rough day, eh?”
“They’re all rough days,” Jinx said with a shrug. “Do you want to come in?”
Callum shook his head. “Nah, it’s cool. I just wondered if you’d like to come on a trip to the city with me and Soph tomorrow?”
Jinx brightened. “I’d love to come.” But as soon as his mood lifted, it dropped again. “Darn it. I can’t; I’m grounded. Someone put wasabi in my sister’s Vegemite sandwiches.” He called loudly back into the house so his parents could hear. “It could have been some sort of freak accident.”
Callum was appalled. “Man, that sucks. Getting punished for your bad luck.”
Jinx grinned and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Actually, I did it. My sister’s really annoying.”
Callum laughed. “Vegemite and wasabi! Genius.”
“Yeah, it was pretty funny. She spat sandwich all over the cat. Bummer about tomorrow though; I’d have enjoyed that. Thanks for thinking of me, Cal.”
“’Course,” said Callum. “We’re mates, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” he replied. Then after Callum had gone, Jinx shut the door and added quietly to himself, “That’s what I’m thanking you for.”
Sophie arrived at Callum’s house bang on time the following morning. Both she and Rose were disappointed Jinx couldn’t make it. Sophie carried a suspiciously large blue sports bag and Callum had to stop himself from grilling her about what was inside.
Ten minutes later the kids had loaded their gear into Rose’s big, old sky blue Volvo. Before they left, Sophie politely asked Rose to flip the hood so she could see “what that baby was packing”. Before Rose could stop her, she’d cleaned the spark plugs, replaced the air filter and adjusted the timing.
The journey to the city was uneventful. Rose was a cautious driver, and she kept firmly to the speed limit. Shortly after leaving Thanxton, the rolling green fields of the countryside gave way to a less pleasant landscape. The trees thinned out then disappeared altogether, replaced by squat warehouses and ugly grey factories that belched plumes of smoke into the air.
Rose grew quiet as the birdsong vanished and was exchanged with the swish of passing cars. During the ride through the countryside she had chatted almost continuously. Now she hardly said a word.
Callum broke the silence. “Do we go into the city centre, Gran?”
Rose nodded. “Yes, that’s where the welfare office is.”
Sophie squirmed in her seat, fascinated by the variety of cars that zoomed past. “What’s the middle of the city like?” she asked, eyes shining with excitement.
“You’ll see for yourself soon,” said Rose.
The car reached the top of a hill and the vista changed. Sprawled out before them lay the heart of the city. Sunlight glinted off the many windows of the huge glass towers that dominated the skyline, each building trying to outdo its neighbour in terms of height and grandeur. Every now and then a patch of green interrupted the gleaming metal as parks, a zoo and a football stadium came into view. Both Sophie and Callum thought it was quite a beautiful sight, but wisely chose not to mention this to Rose.
As they closed in on the big glass buildings, the streets got narrower and more crowded. Callum noticed that Sophie withdrew from the window as the streets became more congested, her initial excitement replaced by a look of concern. The blare of a car horn distracted him before he could say anything.
Vehicles now flew at the Volvo from every direction. Rose reacted to the increased traffic by hunching down into her seat and gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles grew white. The car’s speed dropped to a crawl, which caused more horn tooting and arm waving. An angry woman in a shiny silver BMW flicked a rude sign at Rose and a massive truck pulled right up behind them, its grille almost touching their bumper. A red sports car zoomed past on the inside, its side mirror clipping the Volvo’s mirror, breaking it with a sharp crack. Sophie checked the fastenings on their seatbelts.
“Why are they all driving so close?”
Rose’s voice was tight and clipped. “Because they have no manners.”
Callum pointed to a fat, bald middle-aged man sitting in a car just opposite them at a set of lights. He was pounding on his steering wheel with his fists and his face had gone a strange purple colour.
“Look,” said Callum. “That man’s head’s about to explode.”
Sophie laughed. A tiny smile cracked Rose’s grim demeanour.
“Keep your eyes open for a parking space, children.”
Callum saw a car pull away from the kerb just ahead of them and called to his grandmother. “There’s one.”
Rose pressed her indicator and moved towards the parking space. She drove past the gap, stopped and began reversing into it. Suddenly, a small car with a big exhaust pipe broke from the traffic and swerved, nose first, into Rose’s parking space. Callum and Sophie were thrown forwards in their seats as Rose stamped on the brakes. The Volvo’s rear end was almost touching the front of the other car. This was too much for Rose. She tooted her horn and turned around to glare at the other driver. A teenage boy emerged from the car. He was dressed in a baggy T-shirt and shorts that were several sizes too large for him. The shorts hung halfway down his backside, showing off a pair of purple satin boxer shorts. A baseball cap sat on his head, twisted sideways so the peak sat over his left ear. He looked directly at Rose and pointed at her, making the shape of a gun with his fingers and cocked his thumb in a firing motion. He then spat a lump of chewing gum onto the road and walked away.
Callum and Sophie looked at each other open-mouthed. They had never seen such bad behaviour.
“And that,” Rose said with a sigh, “is why I hate coming to the city.”
Half an hour later Rose finally found a parking space. The problem now was getting to the office building. The streets were teeming with pedestrians and becoming more congested by the minute.
Sophie stared nervously at the throng. “I’ve never seen so many people.”
Something in her tone made Callum spin around. His friend’s eyes were wide and her face was flushed. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Sophie clasped and unclasped her hands. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Rose studied the girl for a moment before speaking gently. “Sophie, are you claustrophobic?”
“Sometimes.” Sophie answered quietly. “I don’t like big crowds or tight spaces.”
Callum was amazed. He’d never known Sophie to be afraid of anything.
His grandmother made a quick decision. “Sophie will stay here and guard the car. Callum and I will hurry into the office and be back in no time. Okay?”
Sophie gave a slight, embarrassed nod.
Callum patted her arm. “It’s
cool.”
Sophie didn’t reply. She couldn’t take her eyes off the busy street.
As Callum and Rose made their way to the welfare office, Callum thought how lucky Sophie was to be in the car. The crowds had worsened and no matter how loudly he or his grandmother yelled “Excuse me”, people kept bumping into them. A very thin and smartly dressed woman walked straight into Callum’s chair. Her solid leather briefcase smashed into his head. “Watch where you’re going,” shrieked the woman as she examined her briefcase for damage. She kicked his wheelchair then stormed off. Callum watched her go, dumbfounded.
After much jostling they arrived at the bottom of a flight of stairs that led to the offices of the Welfare Department. Callum was amazed the building wasn’t wheelchair friendly. Rose gave a cluck of annoyance then turned Callum around and slowly began to work the Thunderkit up the steps. Dozens of people passed the old lady struggling with the wheelchair and not one of them offered to help.
Rose stopped to catch her breath when they reached the top of the stairs. “Gracious,” she said between gasps of air, “I think the behaviour here is even worse than it was last time I visited.”
“Perhaps we’ve just caught them on a bad day.”
Rose patted his arm. “That’s probably it,” she said, admiring his positive attitude.
Signing the forms was just as traumatic as getting to the office. A stick-thin, sour welfare officer plonked a series of legal documents in front of Rose. She wore the expression of someone who just had a bug fly up their nose.
“Extended guardianship and then adoption,” she snapped. “Sign these.”
Rose read each document very carefully before signing them. She chose to ignore the welfare officer who clicked her tongue impatiently. When Rose had finished, the woman ran a cold gaze over Callum. He felt like a beetle being watched by a hungry spider.
“This is the individual in question?” she asked Rose.
His grandmother nodded.
“I take it he has … special needs.”
The way she said it made Callum angry. It was as if she thought he was stupid. He was about to say something when his grandmother shot him a warning look. Rose leaned very close to the social worker and looked her square in the eye.