Boot It

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Boot It Page 2

by Adrian Beck


  Garlic – the school gardener’s dog – sat in goal. CJ and Benji took shots. Garlic made a half decent goalie; he just wasn’t great at giving the balls back, so the Paulveriser’s spot in the team was safe for now, despite probably having more fleas.

  Benji had scored three from three. CJ hadn’t managed one just yet. He fired off his fourth shot and it curved like a banana, WAY OFF target. It was more like a boomerang because it bounced back to him.

  ‘Sweet. That’s not easy to do,’ said Benji.

  ‘Didn’t mean it,’ said CJ with a sigh. Was his kicking getting worse? He needed a distraction. ‘Give me one of your top five lists, Benji. Make it TOP FIVE THINGS I’D RATHER DO THAN GIVE UP PRANKING.’

  ‘Okay dude, here we go:

  1) Feed myself to an actual shark. I’d even make sure I was marinated.

  2) Attend a live performance of Lexi reciting her poems about One Direction and their promising solo careers.

  3) Pull out my nostril hair with a clamp / Pull out Highpants’ nostril hair with a clamp. NB Would need to be a VERY sturdy clamp.

  4) Eat just the mouldy bits from a piece of blue cheese … that’d been licked by our canine friend, Garlic.

  5) Hand wash the Paulveriser’s Budgy Smugglers.’

  CJ giggled. Then missed ANOTHER penalty. That was enough football practice for now.

  Once they convinced Garlic not to follow them, the two boys walked to Benji’s dad’s newsagency, barely a minute from school. They lingered out the front as Benji tried to squish the sopping wet shark costume further into his sports bag. Water dripped everywhere. CJ tried ramming his foot into the bag, but slipped, toppled backwards and smacked into the newsagency’s front window.

  OOOOF!

  CJ’s face ended up squished against a poster for the latest Football Weekly Magazine. The headline read, TOMI JURIC’S GOLDEN BOOT!

  CJ used to have a golden boot too. Just like Socceroo star Tomi Juric. But not anymore. He sighed. Then he noticed the overgrown grass beside the newsagency. It was moving. There had to be something lurking in the gap between the buildings. Maybe something DANGEROUS!

  CJ grinned. ‘Sweet!’ This was going to be interesting!

  But Benji yanked him back behind the bins. ‘Dude, nothing sweet would be hiding round there.’

  Then the Paulveriser and Lenny Lincoln, the Jets’ former captain, emerged from the gap.

  Benji was right. There was nothing sweet about those two.

  The Paulveriser and Lenny were still very good friends. Or very BAD friends, really, depending how you looked at it.

  The boys squeezed their way out to get to the footpath. The Paulversier was as round as a beach ball and Lenny was the shape of a gorilla, if it weren’t for his mohawk.

  Lenny dusted leaves off his tank top. ‘Best thing is, we’ve still got another one kilo bag of lollies left! Nice. No-one will ever find ’em back there! Ha! Always been the perfect hiding spot.’

  The Paulveriser grunted his approval as he chewed, with little dollops of drool and lolly snake tumbling from his mouth. Then CJ noticed the pattern on the Paulveriser’s T-shirt was actually just bits of gooey lollies that had fallen and gotten stuck.

  ‘Here we go,’ whispered Benji.

  CJ tensed up, preparing himself for another not-so-fun confrontation with his ex-teammate, but Lenny and the Paulveriser turned away and started walking. They hadn’t noticed CJ and Benji beside the bins.

  ‘Let’s head to the quarry. Smash some rocks!’ said Lenny.

  The Paulveriser grunted again.

  Lenny seemed to understand. ‘Yep. Donut shop on the way, man.’

  PHEW!

  CJ didn’t need ANOTHER run-in right now. Not after Charlotte’s wobbly on the beach.

  ‘We’ll catch up with those two another time then?’ whispered Benji, moving from behind the bins.

  ‘Can’t wait,’ replied CJ.

  ‘Okay, dude. I better sneak Dad’s shark costume back into the storeroom where he keeps all the Drama Club stuff. Catch ya later.’

  ‘Cool. Oh, and nice pranking, partner!’ CJ gave his best friend a high five. Benji’s bag continued dripping as he entered the newsagency.

  But no matter how effective Benji’s prank was, CJ still had that empty feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Had he lost his goal scoring ability for good?

  CJ was in no hurry to get home. He killed some time making RUDE SHADOW PUPPETS on the local café’s awnings. He got quite a few toots and thumbs up from passing cars for his work. But when the café owner finally noticed, and dropped a plate of jam and scones on an old lady, CJ thought it was best to move on.

  CJ’s mouth went dry as he rounded the corner to his street. He spotted Charlotte in her front yard. She was kicking to herself using her trusty football on a totem pole device. She had a HUGE PILE of books open on the grass. Pure Charlotte: EXTREME MULTI-TASKING.

  CJ whirled back around. He decided to try some more shadow puppetry.

  ‘CJ!’ called Charlotte.

  CJ froze. He turned back. ‘Oh, hey!’

  ‘We need to talk. ASAP. Get over here.’

  CJ considered miming being taken by a tornado. But the wind had died down since yesterday, so perhaps it wouldn’t be 100 per cent believable.

  As he got closer he listened in awe to Charlotte’s kicking and studying routine …

  ‘Hydrogen.’

  SMACK! She thumped the football.

  ‘Helium.’

  SMACK!

  ‘Lithium.’

  SMACK!

  ‘What’s next, what’s next?’ wondered Charlotte, frustrated.

  ‘Um, gymnasium?’ suggested CJ.

  Charlotte didn’t kick the ball. She just stared at CJ. ‘Sometimes I’m certain that you must practise being a dingbat.’

  ‘I take that as a compliment,’ said CJ, as he turned to leave. ‘Okay. Later!’

  ‘Don’t move,’ said Charlotte, grabbing his shoulder. ‘I’m still spewing about the dumb stunt you and Benji pulled at the beach.’

  ‘Yeah. Thought you might be.’

  ‘However, after thinking it over, I’ve decided I’m going to overlook it,’ said Charlotte, releasing a long calming breath. ‘Because as your co-captain, I have to ask you something. What’s up with you at the moment? Tell me. Now.’

  ‘Huh?’ asked CJ, playing dumb, but Charlotte tilted her head and used her ‘don’t mess with me eyes’. They were as deadly as Mile Jedinak in front of goal.

  CJ sighed. ‘Fine. But this is top-secret, okay? I haven’t even told Benji.’

  Charlotte’s expression softened. ‘Cross my heart.’

  ‘Cos I wouldn’t want to look stupid in front of all the others.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ said Charlotte. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘It’s my special gold boots. The ones covered in glitter that glow in the dark. You know the ones?’

  ‘Know them? They should come with warnings, like staring at an eclipse.’

  ‘Well, no need to worry now because they’re gone. I’ve been wearing op shop replacements. Nowhere near as special as my originals.’

  ‘Come on, CJ. Boots are boots. How special could they be?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  Charlotte checked her watch. ‘I have three minutes, thirteen seconds.’

  ‘I’ll speak fast. Let me take you back to a time many years ago …’

  If this was a TV show – here’s where the screen would go all wibbly-wobbly and there’d be hypnotic harp music. Yes, it was time for a FLASHBACK …

  It was 2012. At five years old, CJ was attending his FIRST EVER Socceroos match. It was a present from his mum, before she got sick. It was one of those presents that seemed to be just as much for the giver as the receiver, because CJ’s mum was as PUMPED as he was. She’d put streaks of green through her blonde hair and made them both matching T-shirts. When they stood side by side the T-shirts spelt out ‘BRAZIL OR BUST!’

  Th
e game was a World Cup Qualifier, in preparation for Brazil 2014.

  Australia versus Saudi Arabia. AAMI Park. SELL OUT. 24,000 plus!

  The Socceroos were down 2–1 at half-time. Even as a youngster, CJ was OBSESSED with football. He was jiggling his legs in his seat, worried for the team. The Aussies needed to pull out something special. CJ stood, trying to shake off his nerves.

  That was when CJ’s mum grabbed his hand. She squeezed it. Twice. That had always been their secret signal to say, ‘I’m thinking of you.’ Whenever they were out and about and he and his mum were holding hands, if she gave him two quick squeezes, nothing needed to be said. And it always made him feel warmer inside.

  CJ sat back down. His mum smiled. ‘Relax. Just like you, CJ, the Socceroos don’t know how to give up.’

  She was right. In the second half the Aussies kicked THREE GOALS IN THREE MINUTES. Including one off the boot of the legendary Harry Kewell. They won the game 4–2. Little CJ sprayed his soft drink into the air and his mum had to grab him to stop him jumping the fence to celebrate.

  Soon after the final whistle, superstar midfielder James Troisi came over to sign autographs for fans. A pair of football boots got thrown to him to sign. They were VERY gold and VERY sparkly. Troisi signed them, but couldn’t find the owners in the crowd, so he just handed them straight to CJ.

  Once home, CJ stuffed the toes with tissue paper so he could wear the boots in his first ever game for the Jets: the Under 6’s.

  ‘… And wearing those boots I kicked the very first goal for the Jets,’ said CJ, back in the present day.

  ‘Whoa. And you’ve worn them ever since?’

  ‘Uh-huh. They’re my secret weapon. Make me kick straight. Troisi magic!’

  ‘Magic boots?’ Charlotte raised her eyebrows. ‘This another stupid prank?’

  CJ shook his head.

  Charlotte sighed. ‘Right. Well, we could use a bit more magic in the forward line on Saturday.’

  ‘Agreed. But my magic boots have disappeared. Maybe even gone FOREVER! And I haven’t been able to kick a single goal since I lost them.’

  CJ was relieved to get his secret off his chest. Even if Charlotte thought he was TOTALLY NUTS, at least one person in the team now knew why he was playing so bad.

  With honesty time over, CJ was never one to mope around – also he felt pretty silly about the whole magic boot story – so he started jumping about and shadow boxing the totem pole. Then he tried to boot Charlotte’s football that was hanging from the pole. He gave it everything he had.

  CLAAAAAANG!

  His toe SMACKED into the pole.

  ‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ yelped CJ, jumping on one foot. ‘See? What did I tell you? The magic boots really do help me kick. You’ve gotta believe me!’

  ‘I believe that you think that’s what they do,’ said Charlotte.

  CJ didn’t follow that, but he appreciated the way Charlotte looked sort of like she cared. It made a nice change from her looking at him like he was a WART of some kind. She checked her watch, but then as if to say ‘screw it’, she walked them over to the front wall and they sat up against it, like they used to do when they were younger. As kids they used to sit there for hours talking about playing for Australia one day.

  ‘Okay. If this will help the team, I’ll help you,’ said Charlotte. ‘When was the last time you saw your so called magic boots? We need to get them back.’

  ‘Straight after the first game of the season against the Hammerheads,’ said CJ, picturing taking off his boots in the clubrooms during the celebrations. ‘But when I got home my boots weren’t in my bag.’

  Charlotte had a faraway look. ‘If there was a mix-up and another teammate took your boots by mistake, you’d think they would’ve said something by now. I mean, they’re hard to miss. Maybe we should make an announcement just in case –’

  ‘No. Magic boots are kind of … embarrassing. Can we just keep this between us?’

  Charlotte glanced CJ up and down. ‘Sure. You know, you’re an okay guy when you’re not in crazy CJ mode.’

  CJ grinned. ‘Me? Crazy?’

  ‘So, the way I see it, if we want you kicking straight again, we need to catch the thief.’

  ‘Thief? Whoa! I’d never thought of that! Oh, oh, I know,’ said CJ, jumping to his feet. ‘Let’s do one of Benji’s top five things … We’ll call it TOP FIVE SUSPECTS WHO MAY HAVE STOLEN CJ’S MAGIC BOOTS.

  1) Highpants – stole the boots to strip them for their colourful material to further increase the length of his pants in new and exciting ways.

  2) Benji – he’s CJ’s best friend so no-one would ever suspect him. But perhaps this was his plan all along. Since birth. Or even earlier.

  3) Garlic the dog – might have been taught to fetch slippers for Baldock, but Garlic might’ve taken his training one step too far.

  4) The Paulveriser – may have thought the sparkly shoes were large Ferrero Rochers and swallowed them both in one gulp.

  5) Charlotte – jealous of CJ’s incredible skill, popularity, and heroic braveness, Charlotte stole the boots for herself. Hopefully she likes toe jam.’

  Charlotte sighed. ‘If you think I’d put my feet near ANYTHING your stinky feet have been associated with, you must be dumber than you look.’

  ‘I take that as a compliment,’ said CJ. ‘Hang on! Do my feet really smell?’

  ‘Not just your feet. Your WHIFF FACTOR is through the roof. I keep thinking there’s a gas leak!’

  ‘What? Me?’

  ‘It’s like you wear fart scented deodorant.’

  ‘But I shower every second week!’

  ‘I rest my case,’ said Charlotte. She glimpsed down at her watch. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Let’s talk more about this tomorrow at school. By the way, try to stay on Highpants’ good side for once. He’s on edge – I heard him mumbling to himself yesterday. Blames himself for how the team’s going, if you can believe that. Reckons his message isn’t sinking in.’

  ‘He has a message?’

  ‘He thinks he’s Graham Arnold. Look, I’ll do you a deal, if you get serious this week, I’ll help you get your detective on!’

  ‘Thanks, co-captain! Deal,’ said CJ, but it was difficult to concentrate on his co-captain duties when he knew one of his teammates, one of his friends even, was out to ruin him. He was playing alongside a BOOT THIEF! The more he thought about it, the more it ate him up inside. Friends, teammates, whatever … EVERYONE was a suspect!

  It was Monday morning. CJ was late for school, as usual, and he was frantically searching the hallway cupboard for football boots he could use until he and Charlotte found his stolen magic boots. The ones he had been wearing from the op shop SUCKED. He hadn’t kicked a single goal since he’d started wearing them. CJ hurled the entire contents of the cupboard onto the floor and found a great option. His mum’s old football boots! They were far too big for him, but all they needed was his standard trick of tissue paper stuffed into the toes. Except this time round he decided he’d use a clean tissue. LESSON LEARNT!

  His mum’s old boots looked kind of similar to his missing magic boots. They were also VERY COLOURFUL, with fluoro pink shoelaces that had yellow specks. Maybe CJ got his flair for boot fashion from his mum? These would do nicely.

  When CJ rocked up to school – 30 minutes late – he was greeted by his entire class waiting outside the school’s hall. That was weird …

  UH-OH!

  Today was school photos day! CJ had COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN about the photos and he’d turned up in his sports uniform. Which had a few holes. And a few stains.

  ‘Typical,’ muttered Highpants, as he looked CJ up and down. ‘We’ll have to hide you up the back. I just don’t know what more I can do to get through to you kids these days!’

  All CJ’s classmates filed into the hall for their group shot. CJ found himself towards the end of a long platform that elevated the kids in the back row. Last year he’d sat next to Benji near the front, but after the faces they’d pu
lled, and a few parents’ complaints, Principal Swift had ensured they were separated this time round.

  The photographer – with thick-rimmed glasses and a man-bun – had his camera hooked up to a laptop. Everyone could see the picture as he was framing it up.

  ‘Smile, children,’ said Highpants. ‘Or detentions all round.’

  CJ wasn’t smiling. He was distracted, staring at the various classmates from his football team, wondering who had stolen his magic boots. His eyes fell on Saanvi. She and CJ had never gotten along. Maybe she’d sabotaged him?

  CLICK!

  ‘No flash, sorry,’ said the photographer, adjusting his camera settings. But even though the picture was dark, the kids could still see what the shot had looked like on the screen. CJ had been staring at Saanvi. His eyes narrow, mean and full of suspicion.

  ‘CJ, eyes straight ahead this time,’ said Highpants, his voice icy cold.

  Right in front of CJ was Lexi. Maybe she was jealous of CJ’s super skills? She loved attention, after all.

  The photographer had another go.

  CLICK!

  CJ was caught giving Lexi an all-time filthy look. The expression stood out to everyone. The class laughed. Other than Lexi, who shot CJ an equally filthy look back and said. ‘Jealous that the camera loves me, CJ?’

  ‘We will not have a repeat of last year, Mr Jackson!’ growled Highpants, developing a sweaty top lip. ‘Smile! Or I will make you smile.’

  Charlotte leaned over in front of Antonio and whispered to CJ. ‘I wouldn’t test him today, dingbat!’

  But as they waited for the cameraman to get his flash working, CJ’s suspicious mind kicked in again. He noticed Fahad. CJ once accidently copied Fahad’s entire science homework – even Fahad’s name! Maybe this was payback? CJ got up on one foot, leaning at 45 degrees, arms flapping, as he glared at Fahad, wondering if he was the thief.

  ‘Stop it, CJ!’ whispered Charlotte.

  Right at that moment, CJ felt the platform wobble beneath him. Other kids felt it too. CJ shifted his weight but it was too late. The platform flung itself upwards. All of a sudden the back row lost their balance, throwing their arms up in the air as they were THRUST FORWARDS.

 

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