Bat Attack!

by J. E. Fison

  Sure it’s for a good cause. But I’m an even better cause. I wonder if people would give me money if I started a campaign to raise money for a new iPod. If everyone in this room gave me $5, then I could probably buy one tomorrow. What are animals going to do with money? I, on the other hand, have lots of things I could do with it.

  The music gets louder and a DJ booms over the microphone.

  ‘Okay, everyone. Let’s see some grooving. Let’s see some moving. It’s time to get down at the Save Our Wildlife New Year Disco.’

  A group of girls sways in the middle of the dance floor. A couple of boys are bobbing up and down. I could dance. I’m pretty good, even if I do say so myself, but something is stopping me.

  A dream.

  Last night I dreamed I was dancing with the prettiest girl in my class, when she started laughing. I thought she was laughing at my crazy mini-man dance moves. But she wasn’t. She was laughing at my you know what. I can hardly even bear to think about it now. I was dancing in front of the whole school, completely and utterly naked! It was the worst nightmare of my life. I may never recover. I’m going to need a really good reason to get on the dance floor tonight.

  I came to the disco for the soft drinks and chips. Now I’ve spent all my money on silly glowing sea animals. This disco is turning out to be the most boring New Year’s Eve ever.

  But it’s just about to liven up.

  8.45 pm: ‘Okay, everyone. It’s time to get a partner. The dancing competition is about to begin,’ the DJ booms. ‘There are iPods for the winning couple.’

  ‘Did he say the winners get iPods?’ I ask Ben, trying to avoid his flashing sea creatures. Ben is swinging the fish around like he’s a street performer.

  ‘What’s an iPod?’

  ‘Didn’t you learn anything in grade one? An iPod is a mini music machine. It’s just about the best thing you can own. I have to win it.’

  I check to make sure I’m not naked.

  Jeans. Check.

  Shirt. A few holes in it, but otherwise okay. Check.

  I can do it. I can do it, I think to myself.

  ‘Mimi, you’ve got to dance with me,’ I say. She’s reading another poster on the wall, making sure she knows everything about bats.

  ‘Is Mr Elephant Ears here yet?’ Mimi asks. ‘And where is Lachlan? I haven’t seen him all night.’

  ‘Forget about them,’ I say. ‘I want to win the dancing competition. Come and dance.’

  Mimi leaves the bat poster and follows me on to the dance floor. I take one last look down to make sure I’m not naked and gently touch my hair. My clothes are on and my hair is still sticking up. Everything is looking good for the iPods.

  ‘I love dancing. I once danced with an Indian chief in the rainforests of Venezuela,’ Mimi says. ‘I’ll show you how they dance if you like.’

  I’d like to say no. But I don’t have a chance. Mimi closes her eyes and she’s off, bouncing around like she’s standing on hot coals. Her arms are in the air. Her long hair is hanging all over her face. I wonder how the Venezuelan Indian chief felt. I’m totally embarrassed. And she’s starting to freak me out. I regret asking Mimi to be my partner, until the DJ changes all that.

  ‘Look at that girl in the red-and-white T-shirt go!’ the DJ calls over the microphone.

  I look around the room to see who he’s talking about. Then I realise Mimi is the only one in a red-and-white T-shirt. She’s swaying and bouncing, chanting and waving. And the DJ thinks she’s great. If I don’t die of embarrassment, I might just win an iPod.

  I’m mentally preparing my winner’s acceptance speech, when another person catches the DJ’s attention.

  ‘Wow. Look at that boy with the green hair. He sure can dance,’ the DJ booms.

  A tall boy with bright green hair is bouncing high in the air, pausing every now and then to swing the girl with the glow-in-the-dark earrings around. I have to admit he’s pretty impressive, but I can do better. It’s time to show the judge who’s the best dancer around here.

  It’s time for the worm.

  I drop onto the dance floor and wriggle. I swivel. I piggle. I wobble and grovel. I dance like no worm has ever danced before.

  Mimi hops around me. Her eyes are still closed and her chanting gets louder. Ben joins in, swinging his sea animals in the air. A girl in a fluorescent dress starts clapping. A crowd of dancers forms a circle around me. Everyone is cheering.

  I spring to my feet and really go for the crowd-pleasing moves. I shake. I jump. I throw in a few karate kicks. I drop to the floor and spin. The crowd around me shouts. Even the girl with the glow-in-the-dark earrings joins in. I can feel the dancing competition moving in my direction. I can sense the iPod coming my way.

  ‘Wow, that boy can dance,’ the DJ says pointing at me. ‘What do you call that move?’

  ‘The worm!’ the crowd around me screams.

  The song comes to an end. The fire station goes quiet for a second. Then the kids around me start cheering wildly.

  ‘Looks like we’ve got a couple of winners,’ the DJ says. He smiles at Mimi and me. ‘Come up here and collect your prizes.’

  Mimi emerges from her Venezuelan hot-coals trance. We push our way through the circle of kids and climb onto the stage. Mimi has a big grin on her face. I can tell she’s going to be talking about this for weeks. We’ll probably never hear the end of it.

  The room goes quiet as the DJ holds up our iPods – two nanos, one blue, the other pink, with built-in cameras and their own little plastic cases. The whole crowd is watching us.

  ‘Worm Boy!’ someone shouts. I look at the people in the crowd. The girls with crazy hair, the boys with sweaty red faces, the shy boys leaning against the wall, the shy girls leaning on one another. And then I see him, right at the back. The boy with the green hair.

  ‘Eat dirt, Worm Boy!’ he calls.

  Everyone in the room laughs.

  A minute ago, I was King of the Dance Floor, now I’m King of the Dirt. I’m just a soil-eating joke. I can feel my cheeks go red as I collect my prize. I might as well be dancing naked in front of the whole school. I’m so embarrassed.

  An iPod. It’s what I’ve been pestering my parents for all year. But I wonder if an iPod is really worth this kind of humiliation. I doubt it.

  And I know someone here won’t let me enjoy my first prize.

  9.30 pm: The boy with the green hair is still chanting ‘Worm Boy’ when I walk out of the disco. Almost every kid at the fire station is down on the floor doing the worm, but I know who he’s talking to. He’s talking to me. I stuff my prize in my pocket. I find Ben and Mimi and head outside. I want to go home.

  ‘Who have we got here?’ says a boy with a silly Scottish accent. He’s shining a torch in my face. For a moment I think the boy with green hair has found me. But no. It’s Lachlan.

  ‘Where have you been?’ I ask Lachlan, pushing the torch out of my face.

  ‘Discos are for losers,’ Lachlan responds, stuffing his face with salt and vinegar chips.

  ‘Well what are you doing here?’ Ben asks. ‘Does that make you a loser, too?’

  ‘It makes you all losers,’ calls a voice from behind.

  I turn to see the boy with green hair. He has his hands on his hips. His mouth is curled up in a snarl.

  ‘You look like a walking toilet brush,’ Lachlan laughs, pointing at the boy. ‘Have you cleaned out any pooey dunnies lately?’

  ‘Are you mad?’ I whisper to Lachlan. ‘Why did you say that? He’s bigger than you and he’s twice as big as me. You’re the Master of Disaster!’

  Normally Lachlan would punch me for calling him the Master of Disaster. But he doesn’t have time. The boy with green hair is walking towards us. He looks as angry as a bulldog with a toothache.

  ‘Now he’s going to punch someone,’ I say. ‘And it will probably be me.’

  I run behind a fire truck. Ben and Lachlan follow, but Mimi doesn’t move. She stands defiantly in the open, waiting for Toil
et Brush Head. I reach out from behind the fire truck, grab her T-shirt and pull her towards me.

  ‘Why are you hiding?’ Mimi says. ‘There’s no need to be scared of him.’

  ‘Who’s scared of Toilet Brush Head?’ Lachlan says. He crouches behind Ben, like someone who is actually very scared of Toilet Brush Head.

  ‘I’m scared,’ Ben admits. ‘But we can escape in the fire truck. It’s big enough for all of us.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Lachlan says, climbing onto the side of the truck. He throws his bag of chips in through the driver’s window and starts to scramble in after them. ‘I’ll drive.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Mimi says. ‘We’re going to have Toilet Brush Head and every other person in Hazard River after us. Get down from there.’

  ‘I’m going to get you, Worm Boy!’ Toilet Brush Head calls from somewhere nearby. ‘And I want that iPod.’

  I reach into my pocket for my iPod. Maybe I should just hand it over, go home and declare this the worst New Year’s Eve ever. I’m going to have Toilet Brush Head hunting me all night if I don’t.

  I pull out my iPod. I’m ready to give up.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ Mimi says, reading my thoughts. ‘You deserve that iPod. You won it. Don’t let that bully beat you.’

  Mimi leads me back into the fire station. I scamper between the disco dancers, like I’m solving a human maze. I jump over wormers and dodge wrigglers. But I’m not quick enough to avoid a small boy break-dancing on the floor. I stumble over his foot. I grab Mimi’s shirt to stop myself from falling. Ben grabs hold of me from behind and before I know it, we’ve formed a conga line. Two hundred and fifty people are snaking around the room behind us, clutching onto each others’ waists, kicking their feet in the air in time to the music.

  ‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey! Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’

  Flying custard pies! What have I done?

  We do two circuits of the room before I spot an escape route. A ladder. It leads to the second floor of the fire station. If my calculations are right, at the top of that ladder will be a firemen’s retreat. There should be rows of beds, a big kitchen and plenty of places to hide. I’ve seen it all on TV: firemen sitting around, playing cards and drinking hot chocolate, waiting for an emergency. We can wait there until Toilet Brush Head forgets about the iPod.

  I break away from the conga line, leaving a skinny girl with flashing reindeer antlers in the lead.

  ‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’

  I scuttle up the ladder and pull myself through the trapdoor opening. Mimi, Ben and Lachlan stumble into the darkness behind me. My heart sinks. This isn’t a fireman’s retreat with hot or even cold chocolate. There are no beds or card tables. It’s just a dark attic. It might have been a firemen’s retreat once, now it’s just some kind of storage room. It’s only a matter of time before Toilet Brush Head finds his way up here. He’ll give me a Chinese burn that I’ll never forget.

  We hide behind a pile of boxes and listen. Several people climb up the ladder.

  ‘They’re upstairs. Come on, we’ve got them now,’ I hear Toilet Brush Head say.

  ‘Yeah, I’m gonna take one iPod and you can have the other,’ another boy says.

  It sounds like Toilet Brush Head is heading our way and he’s brought his friends.

  ‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’ Ben is still singing along to the conga tune and wiggling his bottom in time to the music. His glowing animals and headlamp flash in time to the beat. He looks like a musical Christmas tree.

  ‘Ssshhh,’ I hiss at Ben.

  ‘Don’t get mad at Ben. This useless hiding spot was your idea,’ Lachlan whispers.

  ‘Well, Toilet Brush Head wouldn’t be chasing us if you hadn’t asked him to clean out the dunny,’ I say. ‘You got us into this in the first place.’

  ‘You won the iPod,’ Lachlan spits back. ‘You shouldn’t have been doing that stupid show-off dance. He wouldn’t be chasing us if you hadn’t done the worm.’

  ‘Quiet!’ Mimi whispers. ‘They’ll hear you.’

  I look around for a way out. Then I see it. A fireman’s pole. I’ve always wanted to slide down a fireman’s pole and there it is in front of me. If we time it properly, Toilet Brush Head won’t even know where we’ve gone.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I say, grabbing Ben by the arm.

  I race to the pole, wrap my arms and legs around the shiny post and slide down. I have an overwhelming urge to shout ‘Weee!’. But my health and quite possibly my life depend on staying quiet. I manage to keep my ‘weee’ inside. But I make a note to myself to join the fire brigade when I grow up, so I can ‘weee’ all day.

  The fun comes to a sudden halt at the bottom of the pole. Ben lands on my head. A few moments later Mimi falls on me and finally Lachlan crushes all three of us. His finger ends up in my ear.

  ‘Get off me, you fat pigs,’ I whisper angrily. ‘I can’t move.’

  ‘That was fun,’ Ben says, jumping to his feet. ‘Can we do it again?’

  ‘No, we can’t. Toilet Brush Head won’t be far behind,’ I snap.

  I pull my ear clear of Lachlan’s finger. I get my face clear of Mimi’s bottom. Ben is still standing on my legs, pinning me to the ground and pleading for another go on the fireman’s pole.

  Then I see him.

  There in front of me is the man we’ve been looking for all night.

  It’s Mr Elephant Ears! He’s just a few metres away, searching the crowd. He’s looking for someone. And I bet it’s me.

  I shrink behind Mimi’s bottom again. I can’t let him see me. He’s already tried to run over me today. What would he be planning next? To torture me with sticky chocolate éclairs. Stuff one up my nose, a couple in my ears and shove the rest in my mouth?

  ‘Weee,’ comes a voice from above me.

  It’s Toilet Brush Head sliding down the fireman’s pole. His two friends follow, landing on top of me.

  Mr Elephant Ears hears the commotion and turns.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing!’ he shouts. He walks towards me.

  Oh no. It looks like it’s going to be death by chocolate éclair.

  I’m just about to explain the whole iPod-winning-worm-dance-conga-line-fireman’s-pole thing, when Toilet Brush Head speaks.

  ‘Nothing, Dad. Just having a bit of fun.’

  Toilet Brush Head struggles out of the pile of bodies. He gives me a look that would make the world-heavyweight boxing champion cry for his dummy.

  ‘You’ll keep,’ he hisses.

  He walks towards Mr Elephant Ears.

  Mr Elephant Ears is Toilet Brush Head’s father? What is going on?

  ‘Come on. You’ve had enough fun,’ Mr EE says. ‘We need to get going. There’s a lot of work to do tonight.’

  I watch Mr Elephant Ears and Toilet Brush Head walk off into the darkness.

  It’s time we left, too. We need to find out what that ‘work’ is.

  10.02 pm: Mr Elephant Ears and his son make their way along a dark track. We stay as close as we dare. Of course we could stay a whole lot closer if Ben wasn’t dancing the conga and lighting up the bush.

  ‘Da-da ... da-da ... da ... hey!’

  Ben’s singing is also making it difficult for me to get the facts straight in my mind. But as far as I can make out, this is what we know for certain (I think):

  1. Mr Elephant Ears is a bad driver.

  2. He has a very mean son with green hair (Toilet Brush Head).

  3. Mr Elephant Ears has something to do with a mine.

  4. Rare ghost bats live in the mine.

  5. Ghost bats wee on boys’ heads.

  The things we need to know (I’m certain):

  1. Are ghost bats related to Master Yoda?

  2. If so, have they thought about becoming movie stars?

  3. Can Lachlan drive a car better than Mr Elephant Ears?

  4. Has Mr Elephant Ears thought about getting driving lessons?

  5. What does Mr El
ephant Ears want with a mine full of bats?

  I have to admit, that’s a lot to find out before midnight – when the fireworks go off and I have to go home.

  But as we walk on, I get the feeling that our questions could soon be answered. Just ahead is the Private Property sign and the old house that we’d visited earlier.

  ‘Look, there’s a light on,’ Mimi says. ‘Looks like someone’s already at home.’

  The ute that almost ran over me this morning is parked in front of the house. Mr Elephant Ears and Toilet Brush Head walk past it and through the front door of what was going to be my best-ever secret base.

  ‘I’m going to see what they’re doing,’ Lachlan says.

  I watch as he creeps up to the house and stands silently beside one of the windows. Then I turn my attention to the ute. There’s a tarpaulin pulled over the back.

  I pull a corner of the cover back as quietly as I can. Ben comes to investigate.

  ‘That’s a lot of dog food in there,’ he says, shining his headlamp onto a stack of boxes.

  ‘It’s not dog food,’ I reply, reading the wording on the side of one of the boxes. ‘It’s explosives. Something is about to be blown sky high.’

  I fold the tarpaulin cover back over the explosives, but I’m not as quiet as I should be. It lands on the back of the ute with a bang.

  From out of the grass, a dog with fierce red eyes jumps to its feet. It’s snarling and barking like it’s ready to bite someone’s leg off. And I think it’s going to be mine.

  ‘Stand your ground. Stand your ground’, I think. The only way to beat an angry dog is to show no fear.

  ‘Run for your life. Run for your life’, my body tells me. The only way to beat an angry dog is to get out of there fast.

  My body wins the argument. I dive into the ute through the driver’s window, pulling Ben and Mimi along behind me. The dog bounds after us. He jumps up at the door and scratches at the side of the ute.

  ‘The kangaroo bones!’ I shout at Ben. I’m struggling to get the words out fast enough.

  ‘Quick! Throw one to the dog!’

  Ben tosses a bone out of the window. It’s not a big one, but it’s big enough for the dog to spot. The dog catches it in midair, gives Ben a big doggy-type grin and trots off into the grass to enjoy his prize.