Max's Revenge: A wedding, a party and a plate of dog food stew (The Max Books Book 1)

by Sally Gould

  Scumbag. When he faked a stomachache to get out of assembly because he was getting the prize for Religion, I never told anyone.

  “Maaax,” said Dad in that don’t mess with me tone.

  “Yeah, I think I’m okay,” I admitted.

  “Cancel the ambulance,” said someone.

  Someone else said, “Too late, it’s here.”

  I heard Aunt Evil apologizing to the ambulance men in a loud voice. A hypochondriac, she called me. I hated that word. I could be bleeding to death and she’d say, He only wants attention. He’s a hypochondriac, you know.

  “That fall mightn’t have hurt you,” threatened Dad, “but—”

  “Shh,” whispered Mom. Then she turned to Charlie, “Get the ambulance officers; I want them to check him.”

  Dad began to argue, but Mom stopped him with a look. Good old Mom - at least she loved me.

  The crowd cleared - except for Mom - while a guy in uniform began to poke and prod me. I saw Aunt Evil looking on. I couldn’t wait to get my revenge.

  The ambulance guy felt my ribs.

  “Ow,” I cried out, “that hurt.”

  He said, “That’s good. How’s your back?”

  There was a dull ache down near my butt, though that was none of his business. “Fine,” I said.

  “Keep an eye on him,” the ambulance guy said to Mom, “but I think he’ll be okay.” He patted me on the head as he stood. “Take it easy.”

  “Thanks,” I replied pushing myself up from the grass.

  Once the ambulance had gone, Dad barked, “Max, get in the car!”

  My insides began to shake as I headed toward the car. He couldn’t kill me, I decided. If I didn’t turn up to the party, the other guests would ask questions. I suppose that was good.

  4. SLAVERY

  For ages, I sat in the station wagon alone and thought. I thought about Aunt Evil. If she hadn’t seen me at the top of the flagpole, I wouldn’t have fallen, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t be in trouble. Revenge would be great.

  I could see the photographer taking photos in the garden at the side of the church. That was where I should’ve been - posing next to Lucy. Instead, she was standing so close to Hamish the Horrible they were touching. She would’ve been touching me if Aunt Evil hadn’t said I was too naughty.

  I imagined ‘accidentally’ bumping into Lucy when I got to the party. Then I’d have an excuse to talk to her. I pictured her twirling strands of long black hair around her finger while giving me a shy smile. If I could talk to her before the night was over, this wedding could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  Finally, the guests began to head to their cars. I saw Mom, Dad and Charlie coming toward me, and I braced myself for one of Dad’s lectures. They got in the car without uttering a word. I felt like the family reject. Four seatbelts clicked in. Dad started the engine and hit the radio knob off. I held my breath. Charlie had a stupid grin on his face, so I shot him a dirty look.

  The silence was killing me. Dad reversed the car and drove off.

  Finally, in his prime minister voice, Dad asked, “Max, do you have any birthday parties coming up?”

  Well, there was Chook’s laser gun party next month. But, since I hadn’t got the invitation yet, it didn’t count. “No,” I replied.

  After a long silence, Dad said, “I’ll tell you your punishment later.”

  That meant he needed time to think of something bad enough. Maybe he couldn’t decide between grounding me for a month and making me lose a month’s pocket money. Great. I couldn’t wait.

  Charlie sniggered.

  I stared out the window and watched out for black Porsches. Not that I needed a car. Charlie and I already owned the Monaro that our Uncle Jack had left to us when he died. I just liked to count black Porsches. I don’t know why.

  “Do you know the way?” Mom asked Dad.

  “Yeah.”

  I saw him nod his head real slow. That meant he only knew the general direction.

  “Charlie, please look up the map on your phone,” said Mom.

  Usually, I looked up the map. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you, Max,” said Mom in her formal voice. She handed me her phone.

  She only used that voice when I was in trouble, which I suppose was better than not speaking to me at all. That’d only happened once. Then I really felt like the family reject.

  Of course it had never happened to Charlie. His alien powers protected him from getting into big trouble. I used to think he just knew how to stay of serious trouble, but then I realized there was so much he just knew. Not just facts, but how to get people to do what he wanted them to do without them even realizing. He was definitely half alien. A half alien with some useful powers.

  I pointed ahead to the intersection. “Turn right here and stay on the highway for a while.”

  “That’s what my instinct told me,” said Dad.

  Charlie rolled his eyes and I shook my head. Dad and his instinct.

  Once Dad had settled into the middle lane, he said, “Now Max.”

  He was ready to give me a lecture. I knew the drill. I just had to say yes every now and again and look like I was sorry.

  “We’re sorry you had a bad fall—”

  BUT, was the next word. I knew this because Dad’s lectures followed a pattern.

  “... but it’s Dan and—”

  “Daniel,” interrupted Charlie.

  “DAN!” Dad hit the steering wheel.

  Charlie glanced at me and held up his index finger.

  That meant one point to him. Scumbag! I’d thought of that one first. Now it was three to two in my favor. He was catching up.

  “It’s their special day. And I want them to have wonderful memories. I don’t want the whole family to remember their wedding because they saw you falling from a flagpole wrapped in the Australian flag.”

  “Yes, Dad.” Then I whispered, “But I could’ve died.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “When I die I don’t want Charlie to have my Xbox games. I want you to divide them between Thomo and Chook.”

  Charlie huffed and Mom giggled.

  That wasn’t meant to be funny. “I’m serious,” I said.

  “Okay,” said Dad, “I’ll keep that in mind. But you remember that for the remainder of the wedding you are going to be quiet, still and polite, and stay out of trouble.”

  I stared at Dad’s bald patch, so Charlie couldn’t make me laugh. “Yes, Dad.” I waited for him to continue, but instead he turned on the radio. Surely I couldn’t have got out of it that easily.

  Mom opened her murder mystery and began to read.

  The song on the radio was about a guy getting kicked when he was down ... getting pushed around. He sang, You don’t know what it’s like. Yes, I do, I thought. I really do. It wasn’t a coincidence that song was playing right now. The cosmic forces of the universe were on my wavelength. I just knew it.

  ***

  When we arrived at the party, the guests were sipping champagne. A waitress holding a tray of drinks asked me what I’d like.

  “Champagne is fine,” I replied as I took a glass from her tray.

  Mom took it from me. “Thank you,” she said, “just what I need. Max, you can get a soft drink at the bar.”

  Dad took a beer. “Max,” he said in a tone that told me I should be scared, “come with me.”

  We went over to the bar. I had a bad feeling.

  “Hi,” Dad said to the man behind the bar. “This is Max,” He squeezed my shoulder. “He’d like to help out in the kitchen ... washing dishes ... something like that.”

  What! I did not!

  The barman, who was this enormous Maori-looking guy, laughed as he looked me up and down.

  It’s not funny, I wanted to say.

  “Actually, I’m one man short. Could he work the soft-drink machine?”

  “Perfect,” said Dad, “he’s all yours.”

  My mouth fell open. I’d ju
st been sold into slavery. Far out. This was going to be the worst night of my life.

  Dad slapped me on the back. “Be good.” Then he turned and walked away.

  5. BERNARD

  I’d run away, I decided. Dad wandered back to the other guests. He spoke to Aunt Evil. She glanced over at me and shook her head. She’d be thrilled to see me turned into a slave. Dad would regret it though - when I ran away. The door to the kitchen was past the bar; I’d slip in there and outside. But then what? We were out in the middle of nowhere. How would I get to Thomo’s place?

  “Come on, Max,” said the barman, grinning at me, “let me show you the ropes.”

  “Can’t see any ropes,” I grumbled as I joined him behind the bar. Running away would have to wait until I got home. Then I could pack a bag, sneak out and hide in Thomo’s old cubby house.

  The barman held out his enormous hand. “My name’s Bernard.”

  I shook his hand. His accent was a little weird. But he wore a diamond stud in one ear, so I guess that made him cool. And he had the whitest teeth and the biggest smile, so I guess he might be fun.

  He showed me where everything was and how to use the dishwasher. He was showing me how to use the soft-drink machine when I heard a cough behind us. I turned to see Aunt Evil.

  “How’s your back?” she asked me, as though she cared.

  I knew she wished that I’d ended up in hospital with my legs and arms in plaster. “It’s fine,” I replied, as though I fell from the top of a flagpole every day.

  The middle of her eyebrows rose halfway up her forehead. Then she said to Bernard, “Lemon, lime and bitters.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Just a splash of lime and a dash of bitters,” she called out. “And serve it with a slice of lemon.”

  Bernard winked at me.

  Yeah, he was cool.

  He watched me as I scooped up some ice in the glass, poured in a little lime cordial and hit the lemonade button. He handed me a small dark bottle and said, “Only a dash.”

  I added three drops. If I’d had a bottle of poison in my pocket, I would’ve added a dash of that too. I placed the drink on the bar in front of Aunt Evil.

  “You forgot the lemon,” she said.

  Using a pair of tongs, Bernard dropped a slice of lemon into the glass.

  In her I’m so superior voice, she said, “Thank you very much.” Then to Bernard she added, “Make sure you keep a tight rein on him. He’s a troublemaker.”

  “Good idea,” he replied. “Got any reins?”

  I laughed, but Aunt Evil didn’t. She gave me one of her evil looks before she stuck out her chin and strode away.

  Bernard polished a wine glass and gave me a sideways look. “So, what did you do wrong?”

  “Nothing much,” I said with a shrug.

  “Yeah, I guess your mother bought that suit so you’d look nice and smart behind the bar.”

  I tugged my collar. “Me and my brother made a noise in the church, we got sent outside, I climbed to the top of the flagpole and, after everyone came out of the church, I fell.”

  “Oh,” he nodded. “That’s impressive.”

  “I’ve done worse.”

  He laughed, which made me laugh. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be the worst night of my life.

  But after that it got boring. Most of the time I watched Bernard pull beers and mix drinks. I poured a lousy seven soft drinks and three of them were pink lemonades for Hamish the Horrible. Once the guy on the microphone began to talk to the guests, the drink orders stopped altogether.

  A girl from the kitchen came out and gave Bernard dinner. He ate it at the end of the bar, where the guests couldn’t see him. It smelt like roast chicken - yum, my favourite. My tummy rumbled. I hadn’t eaten for hours. Could I die from starvation?

  Bernard caught me staring at his dinner. “I’ll get you something to eat in a minute.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my face go hot.

  I watched waiters serve a meal to every guest at every table. My tummy rumbled even louder. I saw Aunt Evil shoving half a bread roll in her big mouth. She was going to pay. How, I still didn’t know. It might take a while to think up something bad enough.

  I noticed Charlie over on a far table sitting next to Lucy. While they ate he chatted to her like they were best friends. She even giggled. He’s not funny! I’m the funny one, not him! I kept my eye on them. Charlie didn’t shut his mouth; he kept talking and talking. And Lucy listened. She nodded her head, laughed and twirled strands of her long dark hair around her finger. NO!

  Bernard came back to the bar. “This will be good work experience,” he said, “for when you’re older and you want a part-time job.”

  “Why would I want to work?” I glanced over at Charlie. He checked Mom and Dad weren’t looking and then took a sip of red wine, as though he were some cool twenty year old. Lucy watched him. Scumbag!

  Bernard laughed. “For money.”

  “I don’t need money.” I tried not to sound like a smarty-pants. “I already own a car.” Actually, Charlie and me both owned Uncle Jack’s Monaro.

  “Really?” He seemed amazed. Maybe he didn’t even own a car. “How will you pay for petrol?”

  “Umm,” I shoved my hands in my pockets, “I don’t know.”

  Three waiters came to the bar at once, so Bernard began pulling beer and mixing drinks. The wine was on the table, as Charlie had discovered. It sucked only being able to get soft drinks because most of the orders were for beer and spirits, so I didn’t get to do much. At least Bernard had showed me how to use the soft-drink gun. At first I sprayed Fanta all over the bar. Then I got the hang of holding the gun real still and letting go of the button in time. Charlie and me could have great fights with a couple of soft-drink guns.

  When there were dirty glasses, I had to pack them in the dishwasher. I hated that job, and I stank of beer. At home I only unpacked the dishwasher.

  Three guys with stupid grins on their faces came toward the bar. Even though they wore jackets, I could see they were fit and muscly. They all had dark hair and brown skin. I stepped back.

  Bernard held up his hand and said, “Let me guess. You’ve got a meeting with Mr. Jack Daniel’s?”

  The guys laughed.

  I must’ve looked confused, because Bernard showed me a bottle behind us with a black and white label. It read, Jack Daniel’s whiskey.

  “Oh.” I nodded.

  The tall one with hardly any hair said, “We’re on water; we’ve got a triathlon tomorrow.” He looked me up and down. “Are you Max?”

  I nodded. I must be famous already. Maybe they knew me as Max the Marvelous.

  He pointed to the guy next to him and said, “This is Jamie,” and then he pointed to the other guy. “This is Ed. And I’m Tom. We’re Sophie’s brothers.”

  “Oh, hi.” I guessed that made us related in some way. I shifted from one foot to the other. “Dan’s my uncle.” They would’ve known that, but what else was I meant to say?

  “That was some fall you had. Are you okay now?” asked Ed.

  “Yeah,” I said, “except I’m hungry.”

  They laughed and Ed leaned over the bar. “Do you want us to get you a meal?”

  Bernard interrupted. “I’ll get Max fixed up with something from the kitchen.”

  I imagined a plate of leftover macaroni and cheese turning around in the microwave; I could hardly wait.

  “Max,” whispered Jamie, “could you sneak into the kitchen and grab us a banana?”

  Ed whispered, “Two would be better.”

  Tom and Jamie gave each other the same sneaky grin.

  I stared at them. Lots of questions swum around in my head. Like, were they still hungry? Did they want to make a banana milkshake? Did triathletes need to eat a banana the night before they raced? Why were they whispering?

  Bernard laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” He headed to the kitchen.

  “Thanks a lot,” they called out at the same t
ime.

  I leaned over the bar and whispered, “What’re you going to do with the banana?”

  6. THE SOFT DRINK GUN

  Jamie winked at me. “Plug a hole.”

  I didn’t find out what he meant because the guy with the microphone made a joke and said it was time for the speeches.

  The brothers looked at each other. Then Tom pointed his finger at me like it was a gun and said in a deep robotic voice, “We’ll be back.” And they took off.

  Bernard came back and put the bananas under the counter.

  Sophie’s father was real serious. He said lots of nice things about Dan. Everyone liked that - even I liked that because Dan was my uncle. Then Sophie’s father lowered his voice, like he was telling a secret. I could barely hear. He stared at Dan and told him to open a bank account. The account had to be opened at the Commonwealth Bank in the city, near where Dan worked. He told Dan to speak to Frank, the manager, and that Frank was easy to recognize because he walked round with a cigar behind his ear.

  Everyone, even the waiters, listened to every word Sophie’s father said. It was weird. Who would talk about family business in a wedding speech? Or was he going to put lots of money in the account so they could buy a house? What I wanted to know was, what was Dan thinking right now?

  Then Sophie’s father told Dan to pay half his salary into that bank account. Always. Without fail.

  Dan whispered, “Why?”

  Yes! Hurry up and tell us why, I thought.

  “So your wife,” replied Sophie’s father, “can’t spend the whole darn lot on shoes.” He grinned.

  Sophie cried out and then everyone in the room, even Bernard and me, laughed our heads off. Dan grinned and put his arm round Sophie and she hid her face in her veil.

  I looked over at Lucy and wondered if she liked shoes too. Maybe all pretty girls liked shoes.

  The other speeches weren’t as good. Everyone went on about what a perfect couple they were. It was all a bit soppy really.

  Once the speeches were over, music began to play and lots of people got up and danced. Bernard brought me a plate of roast chicken.

  “Only the staff gets this.” He pointed to the guests. “It’s better than that fancy stuff they get.”