Uncovered!

by Paul Jennings

  ‘Gee thanks,’ I said. I put Pinky down and ran back into our bookshop. I was in such a hurry that I bumped straight into Dad. Oh no, he was going to ask me what I wanted a torch for.

  ‘Where’d you get that?’ said Dad. ‘It’s a nice-looking torch.’

  ‘I bought it from Sky,’ I said. ‘Ten cents.’

  ‘Ten cents,’ said Dad. ‘It’s worth at least ten dollars. No wonder she’s going broke.’

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘She’s got no money. She’s behind with the rent. She feels sorry for people and sells everything for less than she bought it for. They’ll kick her out soon for sure.’

  ‘Who will?’ I said.

  ‘The bank. The bank owns all these shops along here.’

  The bank was right next door. ‘They can’t kick her out,’ I yelled. ‘She’s my friend.’

  ‘We’re not doing so well ourselves,’ said Dad.

  I ran down to my room and slammed the door. I was very upset about Sky. I looked at the torch. The torch. The tunnel. I had forgotten all about them.

  I switched on the torch and stepped through the wall.

  3

  It was a big, dark cellar. The floor and three of the walls were concrete. The wall at the back was just dirt and stones. There was nothing there except cobwebs, dust and an old bookshelf with two ancient bird books in it.

  Books. My heart sank. I had been hoping for treasure or jewels. I snooped around for a bit but there was nothing to be found. There was a light switch and I turned it on. No, there was nothing to see. Just a cold, gloomy cellar. Still, it would be great for a rabbit. I wouldn’t even have to build a cage.

  I looked up. Over the top was our shop. On one side was Sky’s junk shop. And on the other was the bank. I just stood there thinking. That’s when I got the idea. That’s when it popped into my head. I could dig a tunnel.

  And rob the bank.

  Like Robbing Hood. You take from the rich and give to the poor. The bank was rich. Sky was poor. I would take some money and give it to Sky. I wouldn’t keep any for myself. Not even eight dollars for a rabbit. I would give it all to Sky. Then she could give it back to the bank and they wouldn’t kick her out of her shop. They would get their money back and everybody would be happy.

  I smuggled Pinky in and she sniffed around her new home. I could tell that she liked it.

  It was a good plan and I made a start straight away. I borrowed Dad’s spade and started to dig at the wall. The spade was heavy and the wall was hard. All rocks and stones. After about an hour I stopped. My hands were blistered and sore. I was sweaty and tired. And I had hardly made a scratch on the wall.

  Digging tunnels is hard work.

  I picked up Pinky and gave her a cuddle. She was very, very fat. She nibbled at my hand. ‘She wants food,’ I said to myself. I went upstairs and raided the fridge. Two carrots. Pinky finished them off in no time at all. Talk about hungry. And fat. ‘Your thighs are bigger than your stomach,’ I said.

  4

  The next day I took the eight dollars in to Sky. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘It’s my only sale for the day.’ She was down in the dumps. Just sitting there munching on an apple.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘They won’t kick you out. I’ve got a plan.’

  ‘What’s that, love?’ said Sky.

  ‘I’m digging a tunnel into the bank. I’m going to get you some money.’

  Sky shook her head. ‘No, no, no,’ she said. ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘Why not? They’ve got plenty of money.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not ours. It belongs to other people. It wouldn’t be right. And anyway, tunnels are dangerous. It might fall in and kill you. If you dig a tunnel I’ll have to tell your dad.’

  I couldn’t believe it. Sky didn’t want me to dig a tunnel. I made up my mind not to tell her anything about the secret cellar. Just in case.

  ‘It was a sweet idea, love,’ she said. ‘But don’t worry. Something will turn up. You shouldn’t worry yourself too much about money.’ She took a big bite out of her apple.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Money is the fruit of all evil.’

  I went home and got some straw and rags for Pinky. The floor of the cellar was cold. I also took her another three carrots. She gobbled them down like crazy. Rabbits sure do eat a lot. Especially big fat ones like Pinky.

  That night Mum had a few words to say at teatime. ‘Nearly all the carrots have gone,’ she said. ‘Have you taken them, Philip?’

  I nodded my head.

  ‘I’m glad to see you eating vegetables,’ she said. ‘But please ask first. Yours isn’t the only mouth around here.’

  She was right about that. When I got down to the cellar there were another eight mouths. Pinky had given birth to eight of the cutest little bunnies you have ever seen. They were pink and hairless and blind and they sucked away at Pinky’s teats like crazy. No wonder she was hungry.

  I rushed upstairs and took a bunch of celery out of the fridge. Pinky finished it off in ten minutes flat.

  There was one thing I knew for sure. Feeding my family was going to be a problem.

  5

  I named the new bunnies One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven and Eight. I couldn’t give them real names because I didn’t know what sex they were. I found out after a bit that all of them except poor little Eight were females.

  Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed. My little bunnies became big bunnies.

  I had four big problems:

  Sky was going broke and the bank people were talking about tossing her out of her shop.

  The rabbits were eating more and more and food was hard to find.

  What goes in one end comes out the other.

  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and Seven were all getting very fat indeed.

  ‘Times are hard,’ said Sky. ‘People aren’t throwing out their old things. I just haven’t got enough stock to sell. The rent costs more than I make.’

  I nodded wisely. I was short of money myself. I was spending it all on vegetables for my rabbits. ‘It’s hard to make lends meet,’ I said.

  Mum was watching the fridge like a hawk. She counted every carrot. Every leaf of lettuce. She even knew how many peas were in there. ‘I think he must have a lack of Vitamin C,’ said Mum. ‘All he does is eat vegetables and fruit.’

  ‘At least he’ll be regular,’ said Dad.

  Well, things went on like this for quite a bit. Every day I searched for grass, thistles, old cabbage leaves. Anything for my rabbits to eat.

  Twice a day I would pull back the secret panel and feed my rabbits. Then I would sweep up the poo and put it out in our tiny backyard.

  Dad was starting to get suspicious. ‘This is crazy,’ said Dad. ‘Why are all these rabbits coming into our yard? There are droppings everywhere. Why our place? Why not next door’s?’

  That night he sat up all night waiting for rabbits. He sat out there in the yard shivering behind some old boxes, waiting and waiting for the rabbits. But none came. ‘Something’s going on,’ he said. ‘And I’m going to find out what it is.’

  I knew that if he discovered my secret he would give the rabbits away. Or let them go. Or even worse.

  Rabbit pie.

  That night I found something else. More rabbits. Five had had six babies. Wonderful, hairless little babies. Still blind with their eyes closed. My little bunnies. It was up to me to look after them. Protect them. Stop Dad finding them.

  Two nights later One gave birth. Then Two, Three, Four, Six and Seven followed. My family had grown to thirty-nine wonderful rabbits.

  It was great having so many. But going in with the food and out with the poo left no time for anything else. It took over an hour to find grass and thistles and stuff. Mr Griggs from the greengrocer’s gave me rotten vegetables but I couldn’t take too much. He might tell Dad.

  And the poo was becoming a big problem. There was nowhere to put it in the middle of the main street.

  One nig
ht I watched this movie about prisoners of war digging an escape tunnel. They had to hide the dirt that they dug out. What they did was put the soil in old socks and hide them in their trouser legs. When they pulled on a string the soil would fall out while they were walking along. No one noticed it.

  Brainwave. I rubbed my hands together. Truth is stranger than friction.

  I filled up two socks with rabbit poo and walked into the street. As I went along the footpath I let a little poo fall to the ground. It worked like a charm. No one noticed.

  Well, not at first. ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Dad. ‘The whole footpath is covered in rabbit droppings. But you never see a rabbit. Where are they coming from? I’m going to call a meeting of the other shop owners. Something has to be done.’

  Two nights later Dad and five of the other shopkeepers sat up watching for the rabbits. Sky told me all about it. ‘We waited and waited,’ she said. ‘In the freezing rain. But not so much as a single rabbit showed up.’

  I smiled and shuffled out onto the street to spread a bit more joy around. I was only a kid but I could make things happen. I liked pulling strings.

  6

  More months went by. My whole life was spent looking after the rabbits. Dirt and sand for the floor. Straw for them to sleep on. Old vegetables and grass for food. Then carting out the poo and dirt and sand and spreading it along the street. It took hours and hours. I had to sneak out at night. In out, in out. The responsibility was getting too much for me.

  Then it happened. The next batch of babies. Before I knew it I had one hundred and fifteen rabbits. I couldn’t remember their names. I was so tired from carting poo and grass that I could hardly keep my eyes open. The whole thing was turning into a nightmare.

  I had to do something.

  I sat down and had a good think about my situation. They were all pet rabbits. I couldn’t let any go. Foxes and cats would eat them. They didn’t know how to look after themselves in the wild. I tried to give a few away at school but the kids’ mothers just sent them back. Dad would find out if I kept on with that. But I couldn’t let them keep breeding.

  How could I stop them?

  There was only one way. Keep the males and females apart.

  Sky had a second-hand roll of chicken wire. ‘You can have it for two dollars,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter any more. The bank is closing me down.’ Her lips were trembling and her voice was all croaky. I looked at the window. There was a big sign saying: CLOSING DOWN SALE – EVERYTHING CHEAP.

  ‘No,’ I yelled. ‘You can’t leave, Sky. You’re my best friend.’

  She just shuffled off into the back of the shop so that I wouldn’t see her crying.

  That afternoon I went into the bank when they were busy and spread some rabbit poo around on the floor. Everyone started sniffing and saying how disgusting it was. As I left I thought I heard someone say something about making a deposit.

  After tea I sneaked into the rabbit cellar and built a fence. I put all the males on one side and all the females and babies on the other. It was a good fence. Now there wouldn’t be any more babies. ‘You are a genius, Philip,’ I said to myself.

  That night, after feeding the rabbits, I lay down to sleep. All was quiet. For a little while. Then suddenly I heard a terrible squealing noise coming from behind the wall. It grew louder and louder. Squealing and thumping and rustling. It would wake Dad for sure.

  ‘Quiet in there,’ I whispered.

  The noise grew louder. Oh no. If Dad came down – rabbit pie.

  I opened the secret door. A terrible sight met my eyes. The male rabbits were fighting each other. Others were flinging themselves at the fence. Some of the bigger ones were jumping up in the air trying to get over. ‘Stop it,’ I whispered. ‘Stop it.’

  But they didn’t stop it. More and more male rabbits threw themselves against the fence. They were crazy. They were wild. The fence began to sag. Wham. Down it came. The rabbits poured across like water from a broken dam. Then they started jumping all over each other.

  I shut the panel. ‘Disgusting,’ I said to myself. ‘Sex sure is a powerful merge.’

  More powerful than I thought. In no time at all I had about four hundred and fifty rabbits.

  Things were getting out of hand. The smell was so bad that I could hardly bear to go into the cellar. And it was starting to seep through into my bedroom.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ said Dad. He sniffed around trying to find something. He looked under the bed and in the cupboard but he didn’t find the secret panel. My rabbits were safe. For the time being.

  ‘Make sure you change your socks every day,’ Dad said. ‘This room smells terrible.’

  7

  Everything was going wrong. I was facing a midwife crisis. I sat down and had a little talk to myself. ‘Philip,’ I said. ‘You can’t keep this up. You can’t get enough food for the rabbits. You can’t keep up with the poo pile. You can’t give the rabbits away and you can’t keep them. You can’t let them go or the foxes will get them. You can’t tell Dad and he is going to discover them any day. Sky is getting kicked out of her shop. You are just a kid. You are out of your depth. The rabbits are too much for you. You are too big for your brutes.’ My eyes started to water.

  There was worse to come. Dad sat next to me on the bed. He saw that I was crying. He took my hand and smiled kindly. ‘You’ve heard then?’ he said.

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘We have to leave the shop. It’s not just Sky who can’t afford the rent. We’ve been behind for months. The bank is throwing us out.’

  ‘No,’ I screamed. ‘No, no, no.’ My heart was in my shoes. I didn’t want to leave. And I would have to show Dad the rabbits. I couldn’t leave them there to starve.

  Rabbit pie.

  Dad started sniffing around. ‘There must be a dead possum in the walls,’ he said. ‘That smell is disgusting.’ He started to tap on the walls, listening and sniffing. He was going to find the rabbits. I just knew he was.

  I couldn’t bear to watch. I ran up the stairs and into the sunlight. I ran and ran and ran. In the end I was out of breath. I just dropped down onto the footpath and hung my head in my hands.

  I couldn’t say how long I stayed there. It was a long time. Finally I was driven home by hunger.

  When I arrived back I knew straight away that something was wrong. No one was in the shop. Mum and Dad were both downstairs. In my room.

  I crept down the stairs. The panel was open. Mum and Dad were inside the cellar. And the rabbits were gone.

  ‘Murderers,’ I yelled.

  ‘What?’ said Dad.

  ‘You’ve killed my rabbits.’

  ‘No,’ said Dad. He pulled the old bookshelf away. ‘Look at this.’

  I couldn’t believe it. Amazing. A tunnel. The rabbits had made a break for freedom. They were all gone. Every last one.

  ‘The foxes,’ I screamed. ‘The foxes will get them.’

  I pelted up the stairs.

  I looked up the street. I looked down the street. Nothing. Not a rabbit in sight.

  Then I looked at Sky’s window. The closing-down sign had gone. There was a new one in its place. It said: RABBITS FOR SALE – $15.00 EACH.

  The junk shop was full of rabbits. Sky was smiling. There were rabbits everywhere. She even had one on her head. ‘I told you something would turn up,’ she said. ‘They just came out of a hole in the floor. I’ve sold fifteen already. I’ll make a fortune. And I won’t have to leave.’

  I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. I was happy for Sky. And happy for the rabbits. I smiled and walked slowly back to my room.

  ‘Don’t look so gloomy,’ said Dad.

  ‘I don’t want to leave,’ I said. ‘I like it here.’

  Dad was waving one of the old books I had found.

  ‘We don’t have to go,’ he yelped. ‘You’ve saved the day, Philip.’

  ‘What?’ I mumbled.

  ‘This book. It’s a John Gould original
. Worth a fortune. We can pay off the bank now, no worries.’

  I grinned. I was so happy.

  ‘There’s more good news,’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m going to have a baby – babies. I’m having twins.’

  Geeze, I was happy. Fancy that. Twins. I know why she’s having them, too. Mum and Dad own a bookshop. Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?

  They read like rabbits.

  A Mouthful

  Parents are embarrassing.

  Take my dad. Every time a friend comes to stay the night he does something that makes my face go red. Now don’t get me wrong. He is a terrific Dad. I love him but sometimes I think he will never grow up.

  He loves playing practical jokes.

  This behaviour first starts the night Anna comes to sleep over.

  Unknown to me, Dad sneaks into my room and puts Doona our cat on the spare bed. Doona loves sleeping on beds. What cat doesn’t?

  Next Dad unwraps a little package that he has bought at the magic shop.

  Do you know what is in it? Can you believe this? It is a little piece of brown plastic cat poo. Pretend cat poo. Anyway, he puts this piece of cat poo on Anna’s pillow and pulls up the blankets. Then he tiptoes out and closes the door.

  I do not know any of this is happening. Anna and I are sitting up late watching videos. We eat chips covered in sauce and drink two whole bottles of Diet Coke.

  Finally we decide to go to bed. Anna takes ages and ages cleaning her teeth. She is one of those kids who is right into health. She has a thing about germs. She always places paper on the toilet seat before she sits down. She is so clean.

  Anyway, she puts on her tracky daks and gets ready for bed. Then she pulls back the blankets. Suddenly she sees the bit of plastic cat poo. ‘Ooh, ooh, ooh,’ she screams. ‘Oh look, disgusting. Foul. Look what the cat’s done on my pillow.’

  Suddenly Dad bursts into the room. ‘What’s up, girls?’ he says with a silly grin on his face. ‘What’s all the fuss about?’