Boy Who Cried Shark

by Davy Ocean

  Oh, man . . .

  Okay. I can win a race ANYTIME, but this might be my only chance to show them that my hammer-vision does work!

  I turn around, hurrying out of the shallows and back across the coral marsh.

  I’m imagining the twins’ Plaicebook updates once I prove to them that my hammer-vision works . . . .

  I zoom out of the marsh and slam hard into Ralph and Joe, who are still slow-coaching their way down from the Point to the headland.

  “Hey!” says Ralph.

  Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop, says Joe’s rear. “Watch it!” he manages to yell before his arms and fronds curl up into sea-horse tails in my wake.

  “Shark!” I say breathlessly, pointing back over the coral marsh. “Shark!”

  “Yeah, right, what’s this one selling? Dolls?” Rick has appeared with Donny behind Ralph and Joe.

  “I don’t have time to argue-there’s a great white shark! A big one-in the shallows!”

  Ralph looks puzzled. “What were you doing in the shallows? That’s not on the route.”

  “I took a wrong turn.”

  Rick and Donny are giggling bubbles into the water. “Hammer-vision gone wrong again?” says Rick.

  “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come and have a look for yourself?” I press my nose right into Rick’s face.

  He looks a bit shocked. “All right. Show us.”

  I lead the way, pulling Ralph by the fin, and feeling Joe cling to my tail with several of his many tentacles.

  Rick and Donny follow, but at a safe distance. They’re not as brave as they pretend to be.

  We burst out of the coral marsh and head up toward the shallows. The weather up above the sea seems to be getting worse. There are lots of clouds now, and the water is full of shadows. It’s going to be hard to spot the . . .

  But yes-right above us-the huge shadow!

  “There it is!”

  Ralph, Joe, Rick, and Donny look to where I’m pointing.

  And that’s when the sun comes out from behind the bank of clouds.

  And then I see Donny, Rick, and Ralph start to laugh.

  Joe just giggles out of his rear.

  Huh?

  I look back up.

  Oh.

  No.

  In the bright sunlight, the shark is revealed in all its glory.

  Its pink glory.

  Its plastic glory.

  Its girly pink plastic shark-shaped glory.

  It’s a raft. One of those plastic blow-up things used by the leggy air-breathers to float on the water.

  It’s not a shark.

  And now I’m so uncool, you could fry sea-cucumber fritters on my face.

  Ralph stops laughing when he sees my shoulders slump. Then he pokes Joe, who immediately stops tooting.

  Rick swims so close to me, I can count the go-faster stripes on his tracksuit. “Nice one, Harry. You can’t even tell a great white shark from a raft. Wait until everyone at school hears about this!”

  Rick and Donny high-fin, and swim away laughing.

  I can’t believe I’ve been so dopey.

  Again!

  When school finally finishes, I sneak past the field, darting behind clumps of sea plants. I just want to get away as quickly as possible without being seen. Rick, Donny, Ralph, and Joe are playing finball with some other kids from class. Normally I’d stop and play too.

  Not tonight.

  Not after the day I’ve had.

  Everywhere I went today, in every class, fish have been pulling my fin about the raft-even Mrs. Shelby. When Mr. Gape, our basking-shark librarian, came in, she said, “Now don’t worry, Harry, there’s no need to be scared. I know he looks like another type of shark . . . .”

  You know you’re in trouble when teachers are laughing at you.

  I slink away from school and the happy sounds of the finballers. Rick has just scored a curling net-ripper and everyone is going crazy cheering. The dolphin twins are singing “Ra ra ra, Rick!” like cheerleaders on the sideline.

  Well, that’s okay.

  I don’t need friends. I don’t need anyone to play finball with.

  I bet G-White doesn’t care about friends. Why would he, now he’s a famous wrestler, movie star, and rapper?

  And one day, I’m gonna be just like that.

  H-Hed. That’s what I’ll call myself. That’s a great name for a . . .

  Sigh.

  Yeah.

  It’s totally awful. I can’t even come up with a good rapper’s name. I might as well just give up.

  When I get home, Mom’s bustling around the kitchen making snacks. I hang up my book bag and coat, thinking that at least today can’t get any worse.

  “Oh, good!” Mom calls out when she sees me. “I need you to go to the newsstand.” She goes over to her finbag and takes out some money. “I didn’t get a chance to pick up my True Love Forever magazine earlier, and it always sells out really quickly. Can you go out and buy me one while I finish my snack?”

  Why is it that whenever I think a day can’t get any worse, it always does?

  Now, hammer-vision-fail-raft-spotter-boy is going to have to swim to the newsstand and ask for a copy of True Love Forever magazine. Knowing my luck, Cora and Pearl will be there, filming it on their SeaPhones to upload straight onto CrewTube.

  But if this doesn’t go wrong, then something tomorrow is bound to.

  So what’s the point in fighting it?

  I put out my fin for the money.

  “Make sure it’s this week’s though,” Mom says. “The one with the bright pink cover and the free Twilight Trout Pout lipstick.”

  Great.

  I swim out of the house and off to the main road, my heart nose-diving with doom.

  I can tell everyone’s looking at me as I swim slowly along. I’ve been all over the news for two days now-I’m the laughing stock of Shark Point.

  A prawn whizzing by on a skateboard asks me if I’m on my way to the optician’s to get my hammer-vision tested.

  I ignore him.

  A hermit crab puts his pincers over his head in an arch. “Look out, I’m a great white!” He laughs so hard, his shell falls off.

  I ignore him, too. If this goes on much longer, I’ll be ignoring all of Shark Point.

  Thankfully, there’s no one else around when I get to the newsstand, since it’s on a quiet side street. The store after the newsstand is the Wet Pet Shop. Usually when I come here, I press my hammer up at the window to look at the kittenfish in their tanks. But today I can’t be bothered. I just want to buy the magazine and get the embarrassment over and done with.

  The Wet Pet Shop door is locked and there’s a big “Gone Fishin” sign hanging on it. No wonder the street is so quiet-if the Wet Pet Shop is closed, there’s hardly any reason for anyone to come down here.

  Finally, my luck seems to be changing. I’m just about to take the magazine from the newsstand when . . .

  Grrrrrrrrrrrrr!

  Wow, my stomach is rumbling like crazy. I hadn’t even realized I was hungry.

  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

  I don’t think it’s ever rumbled so loud in my life.

  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!

  But hang on a minute, I don’t think the low growling, grumbling, rumbling noise is coming from my stomach after all.

  PING!

  My hammer-vision starts going off.

  PING!

  PING!!!

  “Yeah, right. So what is it this time? A rubber pacifier with teeth?” I say.

  PING!

  PING!!

  PING!!!

  I have a look around on the main road, but I can’t see anything wrong. It must be COMPLETELY broken. Great. I’m a hammerhead with no hammer-vision.

  Annoyed, I glance back the way I came and nearly do a double fin-flip in shock. This time, there IS a great white! It’s huge, it looks super mean, and it’s hanging above the Wet Pet Shop, staring down at the window. But it’s not about to go “A
wwwwwwww” at the kittenfish. It’s licking its lips and it’s Grrrrrrrrrrrrrring, getting ready to go in for the kill!

  I have to do something! I have to say something!

  “H-h-h-h-hello. H-h-h-h-h-h-how are you?”

  Yes, I know it’s nonsense and I sound like I’m terrified. But that’s because I am terrified, and I don’t know what else to say.

  In the window, the kittenfish are trying to hide under each other.

  “Shut it, kid, can’t you see I’m busy?” the great white growls. “I’m about to have my snack. Shouldn’t you be going home to get yours?”

  The great white starts dropping slowly in the water, licking his lips and winding up his tail.

  “You don’t get your snack from the Wet Pet Shop.” My heart starts beating a million times too fast in my chest.

  The great white looks at me with his big black eyes.

  “Where else am I going to get live kittenfish? I love the way they wriggle as they go down my throat.”

  The kittenfish start getting more panicky in their tank, swimming around in circles, squeaking and mewing. This just seems to make the great white even more excited. He opens his mouth and gnashes his teeth.

  I look around for anyone else who can come and help. But the street is still deserted.

  I dart back up to the main road, desperate to tell someone, anyone, what’s going on. I swim up to a whale and her kids.

  “Quick! Down there! There’s a great white!” I gasp.

  The whale just smiles and pats me on the head. “Yes, of course there is, dear. I don’t think you’re going to get us with that one again. Nice try though!”

  “But-”

  The whale just swims on, with her kids finning their noses at me.

  Oh no!

  I dodge some turtle-cars and go up to an octopus who is looking in a jeweller’s window at eight-holed engagement rings.

  “Help!” I shout, shaking him by the tentacle. “There’s a great white at the Wet Pet Shop! He’s about to eat the kittenfish!”

  The octopus turns and looks at me. “Forget it, kid. I heard all about your great white prank on the jellyfishion.” He blows ink in my face and goes back to looking in the window.

  I dart up and down the street, looking for someone else to tell. I’m near the side street when I hear . . .

  CRASH!

  It’s coming from the Wet Pet Shop. The great white must be starting his attack!

  CRASH!

  I start swimming faster. I can’t leave the kittenfish to him. I have to do something to stop them from becoming the great white’s snack-even if it means I end up becoming his dessert!

  I know that this really isn’t the best time to make a list. But a list of things that make me happy will make me feel less scared. As the great white winds himself up to smash into the Wet Pet Shop door again, I start listing like crazy in my head.

  1. Kelp krispies. I like them! I’m so close to the great white now, I can see a piece of seaweed trapped between his teeth.

  2. Ralph. He’s great. I like him! I’m so close to the great white now, I can see a tattoo on his dorsal fin saying: FIGHT 4 THE RIGHT TO BITE.

  3. Joe. He’s great too! I’m so close to the great white now, I’m actually in between him and the shop!

  4. And Mom and Dad. I love them, too! I really, really love them!

  I’ve reached the end of my list.

  “STOP!” I shout as loudly and as scarily as I can.

  The great white is all coiled up, ready to smash into the door of the Wet Pet Shop for a final time, as the hinges are just about to give way. He pauses for a moment. He stares at me with his huge, black, mean-looking eyes.

  “You again? What did I tell you a minute ago, kid? Get out of the way or you’re in big trouble.”

  “Kittenfish? What kind of cowardly shark eats kittenfish? Well, obviously a coward with all the bravery of a dead haddock.” I cannot believe what just came out of my mouth. Now I’m dessert for sure.

  “What did you say?” growls the great white.

  Oh well, if I’m going to be a great white’s dessert I suppose I’ve got nothing left to lose. “Are you deaf as well as a coward? Or just out to lunch?”

  Oh. MY. COD!

  “GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!”

  The great white lets his wound-up tail go and leaps straight at me.

  But that’s exactly what I wanted. “Catch me if you can!” I yell, and I’m off too.

  Zoooooooooooooooooooooooom!

  PING!!! PING!!!

  I know, hammer-vision! I know!

  I shoot off toward the main road, knowing the great white will follow.

  My hammer-vision clicks automatically to ESCAPE MODE. I hope this time it doesn’t let me down.

  ZOOOOM! I shoot round the corner. A turtle taxi screeches to a halt as I shoot on to the road.

  “Watch where you’re going!” screams the taxi driver, waving his flipper with anger.

  “GREAT WHITE!” I scream as I dart over him.

  “Just you wait ’til I tell your dad the mayor about this!” the driver shouts. “You’re going to be grounded for . . . for . . . for . . . ”

  The great white zooms out of the side street after me, and the turtle’s jaw drops down in shock. “For . . . for . . . for . . . It’s a GREAT WHITE!”

  “That’s what I said !” I cry as I shoot down the street with the great white snapping at my tail. As I go, faces change from smiles and laughter to total terror as they see what’s snarling away behind me.

  Fish dive into store doorways, squids slide under turtles. Outside Guppy’s Grocery Store boxes of sea fruit get smashed into the air by my hammer-head, and telephone poles get knocked over by the wild flapping of the great white’s huge tail.

  I can tell from the currents in the water that he’s gaining on me.

  “I’m gonna chew you up and spit you out, boy!” the great white shouts.

  “You’ve got to catch me first!” I yell behind me.

  My hammer-vision escape mode is pinging away, warning me of any obstacles. A turtle bus from Crabton pulls out in front of me and I squeeze under it. The great white has to go over.

  I swim off the street out toward the Point. A school of minnows is returning from a class outing. I skirt around the side of the group. The great white is too big to swerve that quickly and he ploughs on straight ahead. Luckily, the teacher, an old hermit crab with little glasses and a knitted sweater, has pushed all the young fish aside, and the great white just sails through.

  I’m kicking and kicking, turning this way and that. But the great white is still gaining on me. I’m trying to think of ways to shake him off.

  I turn a sick full 180 half-fin, and barrel into a reverse tail-endy. This sends the great white flying over my head, and suddenly I’m heading away from the Point in the opposite direction.

  I’m starting to get tired now, so I know I won’t be able to keep this up for long.

  “Come here!” the great white bellows, finally managing to change direction and follow me again.

  I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve managed to lead the great white away from town, but now what?

  PING!

  My hammer-vision is looking waaaaaaaaaaaaaay ahead. It zooms the school playground right into view.

  I can see Rick and the others still playing finball, and my hammer-vision super senses send me faint sounds of Cora and Pearl, still cheerleading.

  I can’t go right, because that will take me over the coral marsh.

  I can’t go left, because that will take me out into the wide ocean.

  I can’t go back, because the great white will just eat me!

  I’ve got to go on, but that means I’m going to lead the great white . . . straight to my friends!

  “Great white!” I scream as the playground gets closer and closer.

  I can see Rick about to take one of his fancy-pants free kicks with the finball. Everyone else is concen
trating on that, rather than me and the great white shooting toward them at top speed!

  “GREAT WHITE!” I yell again at the top of my voice.

  “Pipe down, Harry! Can’t you see I’m concentrating?” Rick calls over his shoulder. He continues lining up the ball.

  We’re almost there. I can feel the vibrations in the water as the great white’s jaws chomp after my tail. I can feel the hot, hungry breath blowing from his gills.

  What am I going to do?

  Rick takes a float back. He’s ready to kick.

  Ralph is floating between the goal posts, wearing goalkeeping gloves on his fins. He’s focusing hard on Rick, getting ready to try and save the ball.

  “OUCH!”

  The great white is nipping at my flukes.

  “I can almost taste you, kid!” he snarls.

  Ralph looks over Rick’s head-straight at me and the great white.

  “Great white!” he yells.

  “You won’t fool me with lame-o tricks like your goofy friend,” Rick sneers.

  “Great white!” calls Joe. “Pop pop pop pop pop pop,” calls his rear.

  “Oh, zip it!” Rick yells.

  “Ra ra ra,” the dolphin twins sing. “Ra ra raaaaggghhhhh!” the dolphin twins scream as they turn to look at what Ralph and Joe are looking at. Me-being chased by a great big great white.

  Rick starts swishing his tail angrily. “It’s my free kick. Stop trying to ruin it!”

  “Rick!” yells Donny, pointing wildly with his fin. “LOOK!”

  And finally Rick does look.

  And then he just about breaks the sea-speed record for hiding behind twin dolphins with your rear tooting like a motorboat!

  “GREAT WHITE!” he screams as he flies behind Pearl and Cora.

  “I know!” I scream back as I skim low across the field. And then an idea pings into my head even louder than my hammer-vision. I start waving my fins madly at Ralph in the goal.

  “Ralph! Get out the way!” I yell.