‘Looking for a freebie ,Art? Or, is it Paul?’ Mario sneered. For once, Art thought of something to say.
‘Where are your greyhounds, Mario? I heard they were hot dogs. Did someone eat them with tomato sauce?’
‘Very funny.’ Mario snapped. ‘Just wait till tomorrow night. My dogs can beat Tiny on any course. Tell that to your friend India.’ Mario stalked off.
At the Travel Shop, Art wrote India’s name and address on the Wonderful Island Fortnight Holiday competition. When Tiny lost the race, India might need a place to stay beyond Mario’s reach.
Art loved competitions. He looked at the pictures of the prizes. Big houses, boats and a year’s supply of Mars Bars. He didn’t want first prize.
A boat was no use if you didn’t have a driver’s licence yet. But he liked Mars Bars ,even if they did remind him of Mario.
‘Put your name in the box,’ he read aloud. That’s how he’d won before. But now he stopped, and screwed up the entry.
Winning a giraffe in Annie’s Amazing Animals Cookies contest was enough for this week. Besides the boat wouldn’t fit on their roof.
Art flicked on the radio. Mr. Answer-back’s program was on. Ring 345 6789 if you’d like to ask a question on the open line. Art dialed.
‘Hullo. My name’s ... my name is William. I’d like to know about giraffes What do they eat? How fast do they run?’
‘We have a young man who’d like to know about giraffes. Just a minute, and Mr. Answer-back will answer our question.’
As he held the phone, Art looked around the kitchen. Then the little voice on the phone squeaked. ’Giraffes eat mainly acacia leaves. To reach the ground or to drink, a giraffe must bend its forelegs. It can gallop at about 48 kilometres an hour.’
‘Thank you.’ Mrs. Tasker had been right again.
That reminded Art. Mario’s greyhounds were professionally trained runners. That might make a difference.
‘Excuse me. Could I ask another question?’
Art waited.
‘I’d like to know about racing. Are there any special rules about ...’
Chapter 5
Dog Spy
Mario always turned up at the wrong time.
‘What are YOU doing here?’ Mario boomed.
‘Nothing.’ It was no good hiding behind the boxes. How could you be a spy with Mario around?
‘How did you see me?’ asked Art.
‘Didn’t have to,’ sneered Mario.’ I heard you breathing.’
‘Oh.’ Art tried to stop breathing, but it didn’t work. Giraffes had a very good sense of smell and hearing. Perhaps Geoffrey could be his off sider? Art was good at listening and watching. He could teach Geoffrey if he didn’t stick out too much.
‘Trying to hide?’ asked Mario. ’What for?’
‘Just looking at the dog trainers.’
‘At them too?’ Mario turned around and pointed to the men sitting in their blue car with the CVD 345 number plate.
‘It’s a secret.’
‘Ernie isn’t a secret. I can see him.’ Mario waved and the man looked at him. ‘Ernie used to work here with Grey Flash. He’s good with dogs. But my grandfather gave him the sack last week.’
‘What for?’
Mario looked secretive.’ That’d be telling.’
So Mario told. He couldn’t stop himself.’ Ernie wanted to change Grey Flash’s training and his food. Grey Flash is the best dog we’ve ever had. Grandad likes to do things his way. That’s why my Dad left too. Grandad likes his old ways. He couldn’t put up with Ernie knowing the dog better. They shouted a lot. So Ernie had to go.’
The driver was wearing dark glasses. There was no sun. The sky was grey. If that was Ernie, what was he trying to hide?
Art stepped out from behind the boxes. Mario messed up everything. Down at the track, the trainers were exercising their dogs. The greyhounds’ bony legs stuck out under little woollen coats.
‘Not very cuddly dogs,’ said Art. Then he wished he had kept quiet.
‘Our dogs are for racing, not for kissing,’ said Mario.
‘And Grey Flash is going to win the Cup on Friday. Everyone knows that.’
‘Mario!’ His grandfather was calling. The voice boomed like Mario. All their family had loud voices.’ Where is the food for the dogs? Can’t you get anything right, boy? You’re a fool like your father.’
‘Got to go.’ Mario waved to his grandfather. ’Don’t forget Artie. Tell India I’ll be there after school tonight. With the dogs. And I’ll win the bet. THEN she’ll be sorry.’
For a few minutes Artie watched. Ernie and his mate interested him. Ever since Art overheard them say,’ We’ll pinch Grey Flash later.’
Art moved like a shadow. He hurried past the newsagents. When Ernest turned around, fiddling with his dark glasses, Art hid in the doorway of “Off Your Head’ hairdressing salon.
Ernie walked on. His footsteps clattered on the brick way. Where was he going? What was he carrying? It looked like bags of pet food.
They passed the lane leading down the back of ‘Snip-pets’. Ernie paused, looked around and then hurried on.
Art fiddled with his camera. Should he take a photo?
Click! The flash went off.
Ernie turned around.’Hey! What are you doing?’ He dropped the bags. Art froze. Ernie took a step towards him. Arnie didn’t know whether to run or stay. His legs wanted to go. He ran.
After school, the oval had a deserted look. A lost, grey jumper hung from the fence. Near the goal posts, India waited. Tiny tugged at his leash. The tiny rainbow jacket clung to his back.
‘I gave Tiny lots of breakfast this morning. After his singing practice. He should run well.’
Art was thinking about Ernie and his mate. Should he tell India?
‘Here comes Mario,’ said India.
Mario was running across the oval. By himself.
‘Yah.Yah.Yah. You’re too scared to run Grey Flash against my Tiny,’ said India quickly.
‘He’s gone!’ shouted Mario.
‘Who?’ said Art, even though he had a fair idea.
‘Grey Flash. He’s been stolen. And Grandad needs him to run in the Cup on Friday night. If he doesn’t win, our family’s going to be broke.’ For once Art felt sorry for Mario.
Where could he be? Where could you hide a dog? Why would Ernie want to hide Grey Flash? Was it Ernie who took Grey Flash? Or was it someone else? India? Why should she? Mario? No.
‘Ernie.’ Art muttered. ’He was checking out the place.
‘Who’s Ernie? How do you know Ernie took Grey Flash?’ India asked the question which had been going around Art’s head.
‘I saw him watching Grey Flash train. He had binoculars,’ said Art.
‘We know all that,’ said Mario crossly. “ I was there too. Don’t you remember? But Ernie used to look after Grey Flash. So he might have just wanted to have a look and see how he was going, before Friday night’s big race.’ Mario’s face looked miserable. ‘Only he might not be at Friday’s race. If we don’t find him in time. Grandad’s chucking a mental.’
‘Why?’ asked India, patting Tiny.
‘He says it’s my fault for talking too much, and taking the dog out when I shouldn’t. He says I’ll never be as good as my dad with dogs. He says Grey Flash is ... was ... a working dog. Not a show-off dog. And our family needs the prize money to help feed our other dogs.’
India was thinking. ‘Art is a part-time spy,’ she offered.’ Maybe Art can find Grey Flash.’
Mario turned around. ‘Not much chance of that! Art couldn’t find himself in a mirror.’
That decided Art. He was sick of Mario saying put-down things about him. ‘I’ll find Grey Flash. And when I do, you can…’He couldn’t think of anything big enough for Mario to do.
�
��Mario can apologise,’ suggested India. ‘And roll Tiny’s rubber ball across the school oval, with his nose.’ She grinned and pulled the ball from her pocket.
Tiny barked and jumped around. But you couldn’t have called it singing.
‘Okay,’ smiled Art. Sometimes he really liked India. Especially when she was on his side.
‘Come on Tiny. You can’t race against a dog that isn’t here.’ India patted her dog. ‘Let’s go and look for Grey Flash.’
‘If you do find Grey Flash, I’ll do it,’ agreed Mario. ‘But I wouldn’t bet much on Art’s chances.’
You just did,’ said India and clipped Tiny back on his leash.
All Wednesday night, Art and India looked for Grey Flash. Mario was looking too. They checked in all the doggy places. He wasn’t near the butcher’s shop. He wasn’t in the park. He wasn’t hidden amongst the other dogs at ‘Snip-pets’. Eventually the three children arrived at the racecourse, which was deserted.
‘On Friday night, the Cup will be run. What if Grey Flash can’t be found in time?’ Mario hugged his arms across his chest. It was getting cold.
‘We’ll keep looking,’ offered India.’ I’ll check the streets between here and my place.’
Tiny was pulling on his leash. They ran off.
‘Art!’ His Mum was at the top of the street waving. She was furious. ‘Come home at once.’
‘I have to go now,’ said Art. Other spies didn’t have mothers who wanted them home for dinner. ’But we’ll look again later.’
‘Ar, thanks,’ muttered Mario who didn’t seem to want to go home to his place. His grandparents were still mad at him. ‘Have you got a torch I could borrow?’
Art lent him a torch and Mario walked off into the night. Art watched him hunch his head into his shoulders. He felt sorry for Mario again.
After dinner, Art’s Mum made him go to bed. She wouldn’t listen to any arguments. So all night, dogs ran in Art’s dreams.
Chapter 6
Make Your Own Luck
‘Pack up now.’ On the board, Mrs. Tasker carefully wrote the next day’s date. ‘Tomorrow will be Friday the 13th,’said Mrs. Tasker with a smile. ‘In the past, some people used to think that when a Friday fell on the 13th, it meant bad luck.’
Art listened carefully. The cross country was on Friday morning. The giraffe would be delivered at 5pm on Friday afternoon. The 13th wouldn’t be bad luck for him. Or would it?
‘You can make your own luck,’ said Mrs. Tasker.
‘Our family has bad luck,’ Mario hunched in his seat. Around him, children banged desks, zipped their schoolbags and got ready for home.
Art glanced across. Mario looked smaller than usual.
‘Grey Flash is still missing. And if Grandad doesn’t get him back before 6 o’clock tomorrow night, he can’t run in the Cup.
‘Where is the Cup run?’ asked Mrs. Tasker.
‘At the racecourse. Tomorrow,’said Mario. ’Eight o’clock.’
Art knew that. His Mum always complained about race cars
Blocking their street on Friday nights. But Art liked to hear the cars come and go when he was in bed.
‘The Cup is the most important race of the year.’ Mario hunched further down in his seat. ‘The dogs that are running have to be kenneled there by 6 p.m. How can we kennel Grey Flash when we don’t even know where he is?’
Mrs. Tasker turned. ‘I’m sorry about your greyhound Mario. And I know that’s why you three were late at lunchtime. Is there anything we can do?’
‘Dunno.Grandad, the other trainers and me have looked everywhere. Thanks anyway.’ Mario opened his desk and threw books into his bag.
‘Don’t worry Mario,’ said India in a loud voice. ‘Art’ll be able to find Grey Flash in time. He’s an excellent spy.’
Art looked up. India thought he could do things. But he couldn’t always. Sometimes his chest or his brain didn’t work. He wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure what to do.
’Mario’s already looked everywhere,’ said Art. Being a spy didn’t; mean you knew everything. You just watched things. And it was hard to watch a dog that wasn’t there.
‘Mario isn’t a spy. And you are,’ said India firmly. ‘Get your spy parrot to help. I’ve got to take Jilly home because Mum’s working till late. I’ll see you later.’
Art fumbled in his pocket to check the photo he’d taken of the man in the blue car. The one called Ernie. If, like India he was a betting person, he’d bet that Ernie had something to do with Grey Flash’s disappearance.
Where did Ernie train his dogs? What did he feed them? Art turned to quiz Mario.
Questions spun around Art’s head as he walked home. Mario had told him a few things about Ernie and his mate, which might help a spy. Ernie loved dogs. He’d never hurt Grey Flash. But he might think he was helping the dog.
Where would they hide him? And anyway, why would they hide him? As he walked, Art checked in all the places a dog might be. It was a habit now. India had already looked round the school with Tiny.
‘One dog might find another,’ she said. But it didn’t work that way.
‘Bye. I’ll have to get home now Art,’ India waved goodbye.
Next, Art looked under the shed at the oval. He looked behind the score board. He looked down the lane behind the butcher’s shop. Often the butcher put meat scraps into the bins in the lane. There were other dogs around, but no Grey Flash.
Who would steal Grey Flash? India didn’t want her Tiny to race Grey Flash, but she wouldn’t pinch him. Anyway, she helped look for him last night.
Would it be Mario who’d hide the dog? No. Mario needed Grey Flash to race Tiny. Would Alfredo hide Grey Flash?
That would be silly. He didn’t want to lose his own dog. What about Mario’s dad? He had left home after a row with Mario’s grandfather. Could Ernie have stolen Grey Flash? Art felt the camera in his pocket. Ernie had been furious when Art followed him. So had his mate. But he had overheard them talking about pinching the dog.
Art stopped outside the address Mario had given him. The house looked empty. The gate was shut. It creaked as Art opened it. He walked up to the front door. Just as he knocked, the phone rang inside. It rang. It kept ringing.
Then it stopped.
Around the back were two empty kennels. Art sniffed. Dogs had been around. Grey Flash wasn’t hidden here, but Art took a photo anyway. Perhaps Ernie had other dogs. Did they run in races too? Art went home past the racetrack. He stopped to read the graffiti spray-painted on the fence. SAVE THE GREYHOUND. What did that mean?
‘Hi darling,’ His Mum was still home when he got there.
She was watering her plants. Mum loved her tiny trees.
‘What happened at school? ‘she asked ,spreading cheese on biscuits for a snack.
‘Nothing much,’ said Art. Why did parents have to ask?
‘You’ve been at school since 9 o’clock. Something must have happened in all that time.’
‘Grey Flash, Mario’s dog, is still lost. Have you seen a greyhound around?’
‘Yes.’
‘What?’ Art stopped cramming biscuits into his mouth.
‘A Greyhound tourist bus parked near the bus depot today. His Mum laughed. ‘More than one greyhound you know.’
‘Grey Flash is the greyhound I want to find.’
It was wrong of Mum to make jokes now. This was serious. But she had given him an IDEA! Could someone be mixing up greyhounds?
‘Mum, where would you hide an animal?’
Mum thought for a moment. ‘Somewhere not many people visit. Or else, try and hide it with the other animals who look the same.’
‘Thanks.’ In the zoo, Geoffrey would be hidden with the giraffes. Could a greyhound be hidden amongst other dogs? If so, did Ernie have other dogs? Questions were spinning around in Art’s b
rain.
It was Thursday night. Another swimming night.
‘I’d better get my swimming things.’
‘Don’t bother. Mrs. Ifraim told me the pool’s closed. They’re repainting it. So you can’t do you underwater breathing exercises tonight.
‘I’ll go for a practice run instead.’ That would give him a chance to look for the dog. ’Got the cross country tomorrow. We’ll be running down near the creek. I’ll have a practice tonight.’
Before he went, Mum checked Art on the peak flow meter. ‘You look okay. Don’t be long then. Have you got your puffer?’
Art nodded. He’d also taken his camera with Eddie’s photo. Might be useful for ID in some way.
‘We’ll have tea at six. And be on time tonight.’
The grass beside the creek smelled damp. The path was sloshy, as Art tried to jog. Mr. Douglas had told him where the cross country would be run. It wasn’t cheating to practise the afternoon before. Last year, Art used to hang around the Finish to watch the cross country runners come in. Now he was determined to be one of them. Might be fun to ride a giraffe in the race. What if he wrote Geoffrey’s name on the entry form? Would Mr. Douglas let Geoffrey start? What size runners would he need? Two pairs; after all, he had four feet!
Art laughed out loud.
He needed a run to clear his head. Spies were supposed to find out things. And he hadn’t found Grey Flash yet.
Tomorrow, he might not finish the race. That’s why he wanted to try tonight. Just to see if he could last the distance, with his puffer in his pocket.
Tomorrow afternoon the giraffe would be arriving. He’d have to tell his Mum some time.
Should he tell before Mr. Cookies arrived, or just let her find out? There were so many things to think about. But Grey Flash stayed at the back of his mind.
Art stopped, panting, beside a tree. He held onto the trunk. His chest went up and down.
‘I’m okay,’ he told himself. ‘Just need to stop for a moment.’ There were ducks on the water. They floated on the pond that the creek flowed into. Art watched them; kidding himself that the ducks were the reason he stopped. He looked at his watch. The run was taking forever!
Winning a Giraffe Called Geoffrey Page 3