by Tony Wilson
‘Nobody minded,’ Troy said.
‘I mind,’ Mum replied. ‘I mind that you lied to me and Dad. And you lied to this Mr Fleming.’
Dad started driving again. ‘Have you met Mr Fleming?’ Dad asked.
Mum shook her head.
‘He is a bit of a shocker,’ Dad said. ‘He got me in trouble for parking for ten minutes in a five-minute zone. Said he was going to call the wheel-clamp people.’
Mum took a deep breath. ‘Okay, we won’t take this back to the school. But you’ve got detention at home, you two. No going out next weekend. You can help us around the house, both days.’
‘But I was meant to go for a ride with —’ Adam paused ‘— a friend.’ He looked embarrassed.
‘Wooooo!’ Troy stirred. ‘It is true love. Fiona meets Not Actually Adam Selwood for one hour and she falls desperately in love.’
‘That’s not true.’ Adam turned his back on the rest of the car. It didn’t work. His brothers spent the remainder of the drive leaning over in the back seat to smooch their hands in his face.
THIRTEEN
Ray arrived at the Selwoods’ for Hale-Bopp night just before dusk. He pressed the doorbell and it played the Geelong theme song.
‘Joel, we told you to get rid of that!’ one of the twins shouted.
‘That’s not fair, Mum. If Joel gets a Geelong doorbell, I want a Richmond one!’ Scott said.
‘No, Hawthorn!’ Adam yelled.
‘Brisbane!’ Troy added.
Ray laughed. He’d given the Selwoods his old doorbell when Joel had turned up at his house with a Carlton one. Joel hadn’t told him that nobody else in the house barracked for Geelong.
‘What a sweet tune,’ Joel said, humming along as he opened the door. ‘I have to thank you for this. It’s been the best thing ever for annoying my brothers. Next step, a Geelong car horn.’
‘Thank you for the Blues one,’ Ray replied. ‘Me and Mum love it.’
Ray’s mum was out the front, unloading Ray’s telescope from the car. Hale-Bopp wasn’t expected to light up the southern hemisphere skies the way it lit up the northern hemisphere. But the woman on the weather report had said that tonight was the night. Cold, clear and cloudless. Terrific visibility. The comet was making its closest pass to Australia, and would be visible to the naked eye just after sunset.
So Joel had rung Ray to ask him around. After all, Joel and Ray were Hale-Bopp. They had to see it together.
Ray’s mum helped carry the telescope in, and they set it up on the tennis court. Adam and Troy were playing one-on-one basketball, and Mum called from the house to remind them to be careful around the telescope.
‘It’s at the other end of the court!’ Adam said as he dribbled the ball.
‘They’re worth a lot of money,’ Mum replied, taking no excuses.
Soon, the basketball gave way to Hale-Bopp excitement as the light faded and dusk settled. Mum arrived with blankets and pillows, then a plate of sausage rolls and a Thermos of hot chocolate.
‘Eat ’em fast,’ she said. ‘It’s freezing out here. The sausage rolls will be cold before you know it.’
The five boys each grabbed a pillow and began their stargazing. Scott claimed immediately to have seen a shooting star.
‘I know what I’m wishing for,’ Scott said.
‘A Richmond doorbell?’ Joel asked.
‘No. I’m wishing for —’ Scott closed his eyes and made his wish silently.
Troy poured the hot chocolate into five plastic cups. It was steaming and delicious. Because they were the Selwoods, it didn’t take long for astronomy to be turned into a competitive activity.
‘First to see Hale-Bopp wins,’ Troy said. ‘And you’re not in the comp, Ray. You probably know where to look.’
The four Selwoods scanned the sky frantically. One thing’s for sure, Joel thought. If it’s up there, it doesn’t look very much like a hurdling boy wearing a cricket helmet trailing twenty metres of sheets.
‘Is it out yet, Ray?’ Adam asked.
‘Can’t see it anywhere,’ Troy said.
‘There it is!’ Scott yelled, before Ray could answer. ‘Over there! Above that tree! I can see it! The bright one! See! The blue tail!’ The others shifted their gaze and saw that he was right.
‘We have a winner,’ Troy said. ‘Well done, Scooter.’
Scott took off on a mad celebratory run around the tennis court, both arms above his head. ‘I win!’ he shouted. ‘I’m the best.’ He had his head tilted back like he’d just won Olympic gold. ‘What a comet spotter, Scott Selwood is,’ he said, commentating his glory. ‘He didn’t even have a head start and he won the whole competition. What do you have to say, Scott Selwood?’
While Scott conducted imaginary post-race interviews with himself, Ray pointed his telescope at the comet. Through the cylinder of glass and mirrors, Hale-Bopp was glorious. A smudge of white, with a faint bluish streak darting off to the side. It shimmered at the edges.
‘It looks like a fireball,’ Joel said.
‘It’s actually really cold,’ Ray replied. ‘I read on the internet that the nucleus is like a huge dirty snowball, fifty kilometres across.’
‘What’s the internet?’ Joel asked.
‘It’s computers,’ Ray said. ‘Computers all linked up. You have to dial in with a thing called a telephone modem to visit pages online. There are heaps of pages about Hale-Bopp. You can even make your own pages. I’m making a GeoCities page about Kouta. He’s my favourite player.’
The boys took turns inspecting Hale-Bopp through the telescope. Ray was an interesting kid. This internet thing sounded incredible . . .
‘There’s another thing I found on the internet,’ Ray said. ‘When I was looking at space pages, I found this great thing. I actually bought Joel a present. To say thanks. You know, for the game, the goal. I wouldn’t have played if you didn’t encourage me.’
‘Is it a Geelong car horn?’ Joel joked.
Ray handed Joel a laminated piece of paper.
‘A treasure map?’ Scott asked, looking over his brother’s shoulder.
‘No, it’s a star map,’ Ray replied. ‘That’s part of the Andromeda Galaxy.’
Joel stared at the laminated page. There were hundreds of stars on the map. A lot of them began with letters and numbers like M31. It was an okay present, but maybe not as cool as a Geelong car horn.
Ray aimed the telescope at a different patch of sky. He took a minute to fine-tune it. Finally he stepped away.
‘See those four little stars at the bottom? Try to focus on the slightly bigger one on the far right.’
Joel peered through the glass. ‘Got it, I think. It’s pretty small.’
‘Guess what that star is called?’ Ray said.
Joel shrugged.
‘It’s called Joel Selwood,’ Ray said.
‘What?’ Joel asked. ‘How can it be called Joel Selwood?’
‘I named it,’ Ray explained. ‘You pay a fee and you can name a star with the International Star Registry.’
The other three crowded around the telescope. Joel looked at Ray. ‘You named a star after me?’
‘It’s easy,’ Ray said. ‘You just have to fill out a form.’
Joel looked closer at his star map and saw his name right there in the middle — ‘Joel Selwood’, right next to a tiny star called USNA02 1275-0042242.
‘Wow!’ Adam whistled. ‘That is sooo out there.’
‘Can we get one, too?’ Troy added. ‘Are there more you can buy?’
‘There are millions,’ Ray said. ‘Billions probably. You can probably get the ones next to Joel Selwood. They’re available.’
Joel was so overwhelmed he could hardly speak. He had a star. His very own star. Named after him! It was the most incredible thing.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ he told Ray. ‘That is so cool. I’m just —’ He was speechless. ‘Thanks.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Ray said, gazing at the heavens. ‘You’
re already a star, anyway, Joel Selwood. I just filled out the form.’
ONE
DECEMBER 1997
Joel hung his body out of the rear window of the Falcon six-seater, a footy raised above his head.
‘Count it down!’ he shouted, with enough volume to notify the entire street of their departure.
‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . . !’
The whole car joined in, including Mum and Dad. The family had been counting down the months and then weeks and then days to their big Queensland adventure. Finally, there were just seconds to go.
‘Three, two, one . . . !’
The boys erupted in a cheer, and Dad leaned on the horn.
‘Bryce! It’s five in the morning!’ Mum said. ‘You’ll wake up half of Bendigo.’
‘Sorry,’ Dad replied. ‘I thought we needed a siren.’
‘We did, Mum, we did!’ Joel cheered, as his brothers hauled him back inside the car.
‘Woohoo!’ Scott whooped.
‘At last!’ shouted the twins.
They were away.
Three suitcases, four boogie boards, two footies, a frisbee, six beach towels, a beach umbrella, two Game Boys and six Selwoods.
At the one-minute-and-twenty-second mark, the boys had their first fight.
‘Muuuuuum,’ complained Joel. ‘Why do Adam and Troy get the Game Boys? This one is Tommy O’s. He’s my friend.’
‘He’s my friend,’ said Scott, who was sitting on the front bench seat between Mum and Dad. ‘He’s more my age than Joel’s. I want the Game Boy.’
‘He kicks the footy more with me,’ said Joel, and he snatched Tommy O’s Game Boy from Troy.
‘Arrrgh!’ Troy shouted as he lost both the Game Boy and the game of Donkey Kong. He grabbed Joel by the shirt and shoved him into Adam. That spoiled Adam’s game of Pokémon.
‘Arrrgh!’ Adam grabbed Troy’s hair.
‘I want it,’ Scott said, trying to claw his way into the back.
‘No Game Boys!’ Dad commanded from the front seat. ‘If you can’t share, then nobody gets them.’
Mum took the Game Boys and shut them away in the glove box. ‘Only two days of driving to go, boys,’ she said. ‘Can’t we think of a nice family game?’
‘What about Corners?’ Adam suggested.
‘Okay, how do we play that?’ Mum said.
The rules were that Scott had to name his favourite twin. Then the twin who wasn’t named would use the momentum of each corner to push across and crush the rest of the back seat.
Because it was Joel in the middle getting crushed and not him, Scott was having a ball. ‘How fun is this!’ he giggled.
‘Not that fun,’ Joel wheezed. ‘Muuum! I can’t breathe!’
‘Boys!’ Dad scolded. ‘We’ve got 1700 kilometres to go!’
‘Why don’t we play I Spy?’ Mum suggested.
‘How old do you think we are — three?’ Adam laughed.
‘Yeah, put on a Wiggles tape, Mum!’ teased Troy.
‘We could play Banana Car?’ said Joel.
Banana Car was a Selwood family favourite. The idea was that everyone kept a lookout for yellow vehicles. Yellow cars, yellow trucks, yellow vans, yellow motorbikes — these were all Banana Car gold. The first to yell ‘banana car’ when a yellow vehicle appeared, scored ten points. The winner was whoever got to a hundred and fifty points first.
‘Banana car!’ Mum called out immediately.
‘What? Where?’ Scott asked.
‘Our car!’ Mum laughed. ‘It’s yellow, right?’
‘Muuum!’ the boys all groaned.
‘No points for your own car,’ Joel added.
‘Banana car!’ Dad yelled, as they turned onto the Midland Highway.
They all laughed at Dad’s rookie mistake. ‘It’s a taxi, Dad!’ explained Joel. ‘Don’t you know taxis are minus fifty?’
Taxis were Banana Car poison. If you saw a taxi, you had to hold your tongue.
‘Banana Car — that old one!’ yelled Scott.
‘Banana Car — Ford station wagon!’ shouted Joel.
‘Banana Car — that harvester over there!’ called out Adam.
‘A harvester? That’s not a vehicle, it’s farm equipment! It’s not even on the road,’ said Dad.
‘It’s a vehicle!’ Adam said. Troy backed him up. Then Troy got angry when Adam declared that the kombi he’d spotted was mustard, not yellow. The twins wrestled. Joel was caught in the middle so he elbowed them both.
‘Pull over,’ Mum told Dad.
‘Come on, Scott,’ Mum said, getting out of the front. ‘We’re switching seats.’ Scott slid across and hopped out. ‘Right, Adam and Joel, up you come.’ Mum pointed to the boys and waved them into the front seat with Dad.
‘Aw, what!’ Troy grumbled. ‘I’m leading Banana Car and you move them to the front? They’ll get to spot all the cars first now!’
But Mum wasn’t having any of it, and away they went once more.
Sure enough, Joel picked off two yellow Commodores and a Ducati motorcycle to join Troy in the lead.
‘Banana car!’ Troy yelled, as a yellow speck appeared on the horizon.
The speck grew larger and larger and became . . . a taxi.
‘Taxi!’ the whole car shouted, and Troy crashed back to ninety.
‘This is rigged!’ Troy complained.
‘Banana car!’ Joel said, as a yellow Mazda zipped past. ‘One hundred and fifty points. I win!’ He spun around and clapped his hands in his older brother’s face. ‘I win! I win!’
‘Joel! Be nice about it. No one likes a rotten banana winner.’
Dad laughed at this. Mum giggled at her own joke, too. Joel continued to be a rotten banana winner. ‘Beat you all! I’m the winner! One hundred and fifty points! Just like bowling!’
The twins were silent. Joel had indeed bowled a hundred and fifty at Dragon City Lanes the day before they left. He was only nine, but he’d beaten Adam and Troy and three of their high-school friends. Joel was like that with sport. He just had the knack. Of course in front of older kids he barely knew, Joel had been really humble. ‘I got lucky with that strike. Wow, I can’t believe I won,’ he’d said. But now with the high excitement of the early start and Banana Car and the long-awaited Queensland holiday, he was letting his brothers have it.
‘One hundred and fifty!’ he mouthed in the direction of Troy in the back, like he was calling darts.
‘One hundred and fifty,’ he whispered hotly in Adam’s ear.
Adam punched him in the arm.
‘You know what my only goal for this holiday is, Joely?’ said Troy. ‘I want to find a game, a sport, something that you’re truly terrible at. And take photos of you being terrible at it. To show everyone.’
‘Yeah,’ said Adam. ‘We’re going to find your kryptonite.’
‘Yeah,’ said Scott, just to join in. ‘Kryptonite. Like in Superman II.’
‘It’s a good mission,’ said Troy. ‘And I love a good mission.’
Joel felt a flutter of concern but didn’t let it show. ‘One hundred and fifty,’ he said softly, one last time.
TWO
The sun climbed in the sky and so did the temperature in the car. The Falcon didn’t have air conditioning so the windows were open on both sides. This let in air but also made a thumping windy racket as the Selwoods hurtled down the highway.
Joel loved being on the road. He jiggled his legs and felt the backs of his thighs peel away from the vinyl bench seat of the Falcon. For a while, he recognised the names on the green exit signs — Shepparton, Tatura, Kyabram, Numurkah — the twins had played tennis or footy in all of these places. But after a couple of hours, the familiar farmland of central Victoria changed to the more rugged and wooded landscape south of the Murray River. Joel no longer knew the town names — Strathmerton, Yarroweyah, Koonoomoo. Their adventure north was beginning.
‘Mum, I’ve discovered a good spot for a toilet stop,’ Troy said, squinting at their large f
oldout map of eastern Australia.
‘Yes?’ said Mum.
‘Mywee,’ Troy said. ‘It’s only a few kilometres from here. I want to do my wee in Mywee.’
All four boys screamed with laughter. It faded for a minute but then redoubled when Joel spotted the sign for Mywee.
‘Can we get a photo, Dad?’
That was the first photo of the trip. All four boys, draping themselves over a metal sign pointing to the town of Mywee. Dad took the picture. Mum said they were all very immature.
‘I think Koonoomoo’s funnier,’ Mum said.
‘Why?’ Troy asked. ‘Don’t you like Mywee? Get it? Don’t you like My-wee?’
Mum breathed deeply but said nothing. The boys laughed all over again. Dad chuckled and told them to get back in the car. He went in the back. It was Mum’s turn to drive.
A few minutes later, they were chugging across the bridge at Tocumwal.
‘New South Wales!’ Adam cheered as they surveyed the green waters of the Murray River. ‘Awesome! A new state!’
‘Wow, it’s beautiful,’ Mum said, slowing down on the bridge that marked the border. It really was. Large river gums with white trunks crowded the banks. An old-fashioned wrought-iron rail bridge ran alongside, red and rusty. Joel wondered if bushrangers had hidden out under it years ago. The sand on the riverbank looked inviting, the trees reflected in the water. Near the rail bridge, some kids were swinging out on a huge rope high above the water and dropping into the river.
‘Mum, can we?’ Troy begged. ‘I’m boiling!’
‘I’m not sure,’ Mum replied. ‘It might be dangerous. We don’t know the river.’
‘Oh, come on, Mum, some of those kids are Scooter’s age. It’s got to be safe,’ Adam urged.
Mum hesitated. ‘You’ll be all wet in the car afterwards.’
‘We don’t care,’ Scott replied. ‘Pleeeeease?’
Mum glanced at Dad, who shrugged in response. Mum turned off the highway. The twins and Scott gave her a big cheer.
Joel was thumbing away at the Game Boy. ‘I might stay here,’ he said casually. ‘I don’t really feel like getting wet.’
The twins called Joel a wuss and stuck their hands over the Game Boy screen to wreck his game. Joel didn’t change his mind.