A Fin-tastic Finish
Page 2
Loads of other parents and kids are at the whalebus by the time we get there. The bus is filling up. The whale underneath is yawning and looking really bored. Ralph and Joe are aboard already and waving at me from one of the windows.
I turn to Mom to say good-bye, and that’s when the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to anyone ever in the history of seaworld happens.
She starts to cry!
Then she pulls me close and wraps her fins around me—in front of everyone!
“I can’t believe my little starfish is going away for two whole days!” she sobs. Then she eases her grip on me and turns around. “You will look after him, won’t you, Drago?”
I turn bright pink from the top of my hammer to the flukes of my tail. I peek one end of my hammer out from under Mom’s fin. Drago is floating at the entrance to the whalebus with his clipboard, ticking off names. Right next to him, just about to burst out laughing, are Donny and Rick.
“Don’t worry, Mrs Hammer, your little starfish will be safe with me,” says Drago as he checks off my name.
“Moooooooooooommmmm! Let go!” I whisper, hoping that no one else is looking. But of course they are. When I glance up at the bus I see noses and eyes and sonar pods pressed against every window.
“Ah, mommy’s little baby,” Rick sneers gleefully. “Mommy’s little itty baby who should be put in a carriage.”
I can even see a smile creeping across Drago’s mouth as he shoos Rick and Donny onto the whalebus. “Enough of that, boys. I won’t stand for any nonsense. Not on my watch.”
I finally manage to wriggle out of Mom’s clutches just as she tries to plant a slobbery kiss on my hammer. I drag my backpack onto my back and dart on to the bus, as Mom waves and cries.
Things don’t get any better on the bus. Mom held on to me for so long, there are hardly any seats left. Rick and Donny are at the back, making faces out of the window. Ralph and Joe are about halfway down. I start to make my way along the aisle towards them, but a fin grabs my shoulder and spins me around.
“Not so fast, boy!” booms Drago. “Your mom’s made me promise to keep a special eye on you, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do!”
I want a freak sea current to whoosh onto the bus and wash me straight back off again.
Drago sits me down in the seat next to him, and makes a great show of putting on my seat belt.
From the back I can hear Donny and Rick start to sing, “Baby, baby, stick your head in gravy . . . ”
A ripple of giggles fills up the whalebus. I bury my hammer in my fins and start making a list of how bad camp is going to be to try to drown out the song.
1. Trapped for two whole days with Rick and Donny.
“Baby, baby . . .”
2. Made to look like a complete and utter loser by Drago.
“Stick your head . . .”
3. Everyone laughing behind their fins at me (to be honest this has started already, I can see them now).
“In gravy!”
4. And this song following me wherever I go!
See what I mean?
I sink into the seat and cover my ears.
But then I see something that makes me sit up straighter than a ship’s mast.
A tiger shark is getting on the bus. A tiger shark just like Turbo Tex!
Well, he’s only a kidshark like me, but he’s a real tiger shark! He swims up the bus, not making eye contact with anyone (waaaay cool), carrying a stripy backpack that matches the stripes down his side.
“This is Tony,” Drago calls out, making a note on his clipboard. “His family has just moved to Shark Point and he’ll be joining us at camp.” Drago turns to Tony. “I’m expecting great things from you, boy!”
Tony swims slowly past Drago. The other kids stop singing and watch. I can hear Rick whistling through his teeth tunelessly because he’s no longer the center of attention.
Suddenly I have a plan. A great, magnificent and awesome plan.
1. I’ll make friends with Tony Tiger.
2. I’ll get him to teach me how to become a supreme sharklete.
3. Then I’ll be faster than the others and win all the races.
4. This will shut Rick and Donny up for good!
5. And I’ll have the best time ever!
The Sea-cub Camp is located many leagues away in the Frondy Forest. After a few hours, we head into the sea cliffs. The whalebus starts driving through narrow passages and ravines, kicking its flukes slowly so it doesn’t dislodge any rocks. Slimy strands of seaweed form a gloomy tunnel of brown above us.
But I can hardly concentrate on the journey because I can’t take my eyes off Tony Tiger. He doesn’t look at me, but then he doesn’t look at anyone. Far too cool for that, I guess.
When we get to the camp, it’s a relief to be out in the light, but the forest of huge brown and black weeds still surrounds us on all sides.
Drago gets us out of the bus. I try to float as close as I can to Tony, but he doesn’t seem to notice me at all. I wonder if he heard Rick and Donny’s song about me.
A piercing shriek rings out, making us all jump. Drago is wearing a whalebone whistle around his neck and he’s blowing it so hard it’s making his eyes even gogglier than mine.
We all quickly get into line, floating as straight as we can. Drago stops blowing his whistle and starts swimming up and down in front of us.
“You know what time it is,” he says. “And I know what time it is.”
We all look at him blankly.
“Five past twelve?” Joe says nervously.
Drago blows his whistle loudly. “No! No! No! It’s time for the Sea-cub Motto!”
We all pull ourselves up as straight as we can and use our loudest voices. “I promise that I will do my best,” we say.
“No! No! No! No! No!” Drago yells. “I’ve changed the words. From now on, our motto is: I promise that I won’t do my best—”
We all stare at him.
“I promise that I will do better than my very most all-time best!” Drago bellows.
Hmmm, it doesn’t flow quite as smoothly as the original motto—especially when we try it.
“I . . . promise . . . very . . . than . . . better . . . most . . . best . . . all-time . . . ” we stammer, apart from Tiger Kid, who says nothing. He really is Cool. As. Ice.
Drago sighs. “Okay, enough of that. It’s time to get down to business! The business of being the best!” He starts swimming around and around in a circle. “This camp will push you to the limit. It will test you to the max.” He swims faster and faster. I’m starting to get dizzy just watching him. “It will . . . it will . . . ” Drago stops swimming and crashes into Donny.
“Dad!” Donny says, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry, son. Got hit by a—er—freak current.” Drago quickly straightens his cap. “Anyway, as I was about to say, by the time we get to the competition tomorrow you’re all going to be working together as a team.” He looks at us and narrows his eyes. “And remember, there is no I in team!”
“Now time for the first exercise,” Drago continues. “Putting your tents up. The last one to get his done will have to drop and give me fifty!”
None of us dare ask him fifty what.
Luckily, I’m one of the first to get my tent up. This is mainly because I don’t need to borrow a hammer to knock in the tent pegs. I just use the side of my head.
I look around. Rick and Donny are sword-fighting with their tent poles. Ralph is trying to find Joe . . . who is hiding from an octokid swinging six hammers at once.
Tony Tiger’s trying to get his tent up, but doesn’t seem to be doing a good job of it. I bet it’s because he’s too cool to ever go camping. Then I realize that this is a perfect opportunity to put my plan into action.
“Hi, Tony? I’m Harry,” I say, swimming over. “Do you need some help?”
Tony looks away.
Man, I must be so uncool he doesn’t even want to be seen talking to me in case he lose
s his seacred.
I decide to try again and swim around to face Tony. “My head’s pretty good at putting up tents. Look . . . ”
I bang in a couple of pegs to show him, and get the back end of his tent up. Tony just floats there, his cool stripes glistening in the light. He even looks fast standing still.
I just look like a hammer with a tail.
I try a joke. “Are those go-faster stripes?” I say, pointing at his side.
Tony just looks at me like I’m something your fin might slide in.
Great.
I swim around quickly putting up Tony’s tent, not bothering to say anything more.
“Time’s up!” Drago yells, just as I finish.
Rick is next to his tent, but Donny is nowhere to be seen. Then I notice his tail sticking out under the tent flap. He’s holding it up from the inside to make it look like they’ve finished. Cheats!
Ralph and Joe are still trying to get their final tent peg in. Joe has turned bright red from the effort.
“Okay. Ralph and Joe, drop and give me fifty!” Drago bellows.
“Fifty what?” asks Joe.
“Tooty-pops,” sniggers Rick, flicking the flap of his tent to cover Donny’s tail.
“Fin-presses!” yells Drago.
Ralph and Joe begin . . .
Press, press, press.
Pop, pop, poppity-pop.
When Ralph and Joe have finally finished, Drago leads us all into the Frondy Forest. The weed trunks are huge and dark, and wide leaves sweep backward and forward in the slow currents. Dark little fish dart in the hollows and strange rustles in the undergrowth make us look this way and that.
It’s all a bit creepy.
Drago leads us into another, smaller clearing. “Okay, you bunch, it’s time for the real work to begin! Welcome to the best obstacle course the underwater world has ever seen!”
As my eyes adjust to the brightness, I see what he’s talking about and my stomach does several flips.
The obstacle course is a huge collection of spinning wheels, tiny holes, sticky nets, and water-powered whirring tentacles. We all stand openmouthed as Drago takes us through each piece of equipment.
“Cubs, your first test is to see if you can get around the course without being spun out of the wheel, stuck in a hole, tangled in the nets, or captured by the tentacles.”
We all look at each other in shocked silence.
Drago clicks his stopwatch and starts sending us off one at a time. I’m in the middle of the pack—in front of Tony, but just behind Rick and Donny.
“Go on, Donny, show ’em how it’s done!” shouts Drago as he sends his son off, with Rick following fifteen seconds later.
Then it’s my turn. I look back at Tony. Maybe if I can get through the course in a good time, he won’t think I’m such a hammery rubberhead and he’ll want to be my friend. I was silly thinking that putting up the tent would impress him. He’ll be much more impressed if I can show him some sharklete skills.
It all goes well at first. I zip through the nets, avoid the tentacles, and slip through the small holes in the rocks. I’m doing so well, I’m catching up with Rick and Donny. I really hope Tony is watching.
I kick away from the rocks and head towards the spinning wheel. It looks like the paddle from a sunken leggy air-breather’s paddle boat. Strands of seaweed are stuck to its white wooden slats. They whip around as it turns on the current.
Donny has ducked below the wheel to avoid it. Luckily for him, Drago doesn’t notice. He’s too busy clicking his stopwatch as he sends Tony off. Rick dives between two slats and makes it to the center of the wheel. He hangs on to the hub with a fin as he tries to get the timing right to dart through the slats on the other side.
As I get closer he looks at me and smirks.
I ignore him—it’s not Rick I’m interested in. I sneak a look back at Tony as I dive towards the wheel. Rick kicks, narrowly making it out between the slats as it spins around and around.
This is when I realize it was a mistake ignoring Rick. He wasn’t just waiting for the right time to swim out between the whirring slats, he was laying a trap for me!
Rick has pulled a long strand of seaweed into the center of the wheel and looped it around. And now, instead of being a good place to hang on to while I wait for the wheel to rotate, it’s all slippery! As I desperately try to hang on to the hub, I slide straight off, bounce into the slats and get tangled in the seaweed fronds hanging there.
Upside down!
I go around and around and around and around and around (I’m gonna be sick!) and around and around and around (I am sick!) and around and around and around. I see Tony slipping easily into the wheel and out the other side. He completely ignores my embarrassed wave through the cloud of prawn-flakes I had for breakfast.
Once the wheel has stopped, it takes three hours for a very unhappy Drago to untangle me from the seaweed.
By that time, everyone else is back at camp, and I can hear them all singing. (“Sick, sick, Harry’s been sick! The wheel turned him around and his breakfast flew out!”)
Really—could this camp get any worse?
As soon as I get back to camp I go and hide in my tent until the singing stops. Ralph and Joe ask if I want to come and play finball, but I ignore them. I just want to be alone. But then I smell clamburgers and hotfrogs on the currents washing through my tent and my stomach groans. I undo the tent flap and swim to where everyone is sitting on rafts of pink sea-sponge, around a small whirlpool.
I spot Ralph and Joe over by Drago, cooking hotfrogs in a handy volcanic vent.
Nothing cheers a shark up more than an approaching meal, so I should be happy, but:
1. No one’s talking to me. Mainly, I think, because they don’t want to laugh in my face.
2. I can’t interrupt Ralph and Joe while they’re cooking hotfrogs without getting told off by Drago.
3. I catch sight of myself in a passing mirrorfish and I see that I’m still slightly green from my time on the wheel.
4. This makes me feel fed up.
5. Very fed up.
6. Totally fed up.
I could go on, but maybe I should try again to make friends with Tony? I scan the cubs gathered around the whirlpool.
Tony is sitting on a sea-pillow with Rick and Donny.
7. I’m now totally FED UP!!!!!
How can I ever learn to be a great sharklete like Turbo Tex now that Tony is friends with my arch-flubberer?
I turn on my tail and gloomily begin to swim back towards my tent, but Drago spots me.
“And where do you think you’re going, Harry?” he shouts.
I stop and shrug. “Dunno, sir.”
“Well, how about I tell you? You’re going to make up for messing up the obstacle course by becoming our waiter for the night.” Drago hands me a tray of clamburgers. “Off you go.”
I take the tray and start handing out clamburgers. Rick and Donny take two each and try to flubber my head, but I manage to duck away. When I’ve finally served everyone, all that’s left for me to eat are two empty clamburger buns and half a hotfrog.
I sit on my own at the back of the circle and chew unhappily on my food. Ralph swims over.
“Any food between your teeth?” he asks.
I shake my head glumly. There’s not enough for me, let alone my swimming toothbrush!
“Listen up, everyone,” Drago says once we’ve all finished eating. He’s sitting closest to the whirlpool and his head is lit up by a couple of lantern fish. The current in the water is making his scarf float around his face like the creepy weeds in the forest. “It’s time for a ghost story,” he whispers.
Everyone sits forward excitedly, except me. I couldn’t care less.
“I want to tell you a tale. A tale of a whale. A tale of doom and a sharp harpoon! Of a moonless night and a terrible fright, and a whaley ghost who’s coming here soon!” Drago looks at us all, his face deadly serious. “It was a hundred years ago, I’ll have you
all know, when Jonah the whale was blown by a gale, out here to the fronds, to the backs of beyonds, where even leggy air-breathers won’t sail!”
I have to admit that I’m starting to get interested in the story. I float a little closer on my sea-sponge.
Drago continues. “Jonah was cold and alone, shivering to the bone, too far from the shore, when he heard the ship roar. A ship of the dead, floating over his head, the captain a ghost, with rotten eyes!”
I move even closer. The dark water around the whirlpool seems to be closing in. I see Donny’s fin reaching out to hold Rick’s. Rick holds on for a moment, then realizes what he’s doing and slaps it away. Donny starts hugging himself instead.
Drago’s voice gets lower and whisperier. “Jonah tried to hide, but he was caught by the tide. He was flung on the beach, and the dead started to screech. The dead captain began a-stabbing, under the light of the moon, with his fearsome harpoon!”
Pop pop pop pop pop poppity pop!
I turn to look at Joe. But for once it wasn’t his bottom popping—it was the squidkid, Sammy, floating next to him.
Drago starts drifting over our heads. The lantern fishes are now behind him, making him look like a big black shadow. “And now it is said, that this whale who is dead, swims through the dark, seeking fishes and sharks, to feast on with glee, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! ARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!”
At this point, the lantern fish go out and everyone screams! Even me!
Drago laughs. “Lights on, boys!”
But nothing happens.
“Lantern fish!” Drago shouts. “I said lights on.”
“We are on!” one of the lanterns calls back.
“I’m sorry,” Sammy Squid whimpers. “I couldn’t help it.”
Suddenly I realize what’s happened. Sammy has got so scared that he’s let out an ink explosion and it’s blocking out all the light!
Drago starts swimming around. “Everyone, shake your tails and clear the ink.”
We all do as we’re told. As the ink clears, I see Sammy’s tentacles totally caught up with Joe’s jellyfish legs. It’s like they both tried to hug each other to pieces.