by AD Hartley
‘HER-BERT. HER-BERT!’ Ben and Norton started droning in low, loud voices.
‘I’ll have you!’ the taller boy roared at them. ‘I will bloody have you!’
‘Oh will you all just shut up!’ Newton shouted in frustration at the constant bickering. He picked up the penultimate ball and threw it with all his might. The outburst from such a timid boy shocked the others into silence and they turned to watch the ball fly towards the target, which it missed by a good three feet, hitting the back screen and falling to the floor with a tired thud.
‘Nice one, Newton.’ Norton said.
Newton sighed and mooched back to the crowd, delivering a half-hearted thump to Norton’s arm on the way past ‘Shut up.’ he said mournfully.
His friend patted him on the back in sympathy.
‘OK, this is the last ball!’ The Mayor shouted in excitement as Lumsden stood alone in front of the Gunge Tank.
‘Throw it at Herbert!’ Ben shouted from the crowd.
(Oi, I heard that! I’ll have you!)
Mr Lumsden, planted both feet and once more pulled back a long arm delivering his fastest ball yet, which clattered into the target leaving no one in any doubt that it was a direct hit.
The crowd cheered.
Nothing happened.
But at that moment behind the screen, there was a faint exclamation of triumph as Mr Leodoni noticed a stick that had been wedged between the target and the arm behind it, which was supposed to trigger the hydraulics with a direct hit. He concentrated as hard as he could and grabbed the stick.
On the other side the crowd started to boo as a smirking Herbert put down his employer’s belongings and clambered onto the side of the tank to help Mr Hill down from the chair, but he paused as a strange noise reached him.
An ethereal grunt of effort and a few choicer Italian swearwords from behind the wall were followed by a whoop of delight and a slight click from the trigger. There was a pause; the most precious pause of Carlo’s young life; a pause he would remember for many years to come. He smiled and waited as the pause continued, lasting just a brief second, yet to him it felt like an age. Finally, the pause ended, the chair tipped and Mr Hill was emptied with little ceremony into the gunge still holding Herbert’s arm. Herbert lost his footing and tumbled right on top of his boss, both disappearing briefly below the green slime.
The small crowd cheered, whilst the Leodoni’s team ran around waving their hands and shouting with joy.
‘Congratulations, Master Leodoni.’ The Mayor said, shaking Carlo’s hand vigorously. ‘And very well done on the re-launch of the company. It really is a tremendous achievement.’
‘Thank you.’ Carlo beamed.
‘If you’ll excuse me?’ The Mayor asked, indicating the two green forms slipping in the gunge tank as they tried to free themselves. ‘I should probably…’ The Mayor muttered as he walked over to lend assistance to Mr Gardener.
‘Get off me you fool!’ Carlo heard Mr Hill shout as Herbert tried to help him to the side. Mr Hill pushed him away and both slipped back into the gunge. Eventually they were extracted and Herbert was reprimanded all the way back to the Hill’s van where Mr Hill at least had a change of clothes waiting for him.
Carlo felt a twinge of sympathy for Herbert as he watched them leave, but he was brought out of his contemplation as something tapped him on the shoulder from behind. He turned around to find nothing there, but then noticed a stick floating in front of him.
‘Guess where I found this?’ Luigi said, waving the stick around. Carlo grabbed it before someone noticed.
‘A tree?’ he asked.
‘Nup. Wedged in the target. Your friend Herbert must have put it there to make sure Hill didn’t get a dunking.’
‘You’re kidding! They were cheating again?’ Carlo shook his head, all sympathy gone.
He watched as Ben and Norton sprinted across to Mr Gardener, thrust money into his hand and then argue about who got to go into the chair first. Ben naturally won and clambered in, but then spent two minutes dangling as his friend missed with all three throws. Abusing each other as they exchanged places, Ben waited whilst Norton took a number of attempts to make it into the chair and then delivered a first time strike to tip his friend straight into the gunge, much to the delight of them both.
Looking around Carlo saw the crowd had thinned as the evening approached. A few stalls were still open, but most were now being stripped down. Further down the road he could see that Lumsden and Newton had started packing away the Leodoni’s Van and Carlo noticed one of the camp chairs fold down and store itself away as his father lent a spectral hand.
‘I wish he wouldn’t do that.’ Carlo said as Abi walked over.
‘He still thinks it’s his company. He will do what he wants.’ She laughed.
Carlo nodded in agreement as they started to walk back to the van, but stopped and looked across to the trees at the side of the path.
‘Someone’s crying.’ he said, putting his hand on Abi’s arm to stop her.
They both craned their necks a little and saw Herbert, still covered from head to foot in slime, sat behind a tree with his knees pulled up to his chin, tears clearing trails through the green goo on his face.
‘Ah… err… let’s go.’ Carlo said, feeling awkward, but Abi pulled him back.
‘We should do something. Go talk to him.’ she whispered.
‘You really think he wants me to see him crying?’ Carlo whispered back. ‘He’d thump me!’
‘OK, stay here.’ she said and walked slowly towards the trees. Carlo saw a park bench just a few yards away from the grass and sat down quietly. He could just make out Abi’s voice as she rounded the tree.
‘Err… are you OK?’ she asked.
‘Go away.’
‘I don’t mean to…’
‘Sod off! I’m fine.’ Herbert persisted, sniffing away a runny nose and wiping tears, which only managed to spread more slime across his face,
Abi shrugged and was about to walk away, but her elder sister instincts (she was born ten minutes before Ben) kicked in. ‘Don’t be daft. You’ wouldn’t be sat there if you were fine.’
In what Carlo thought was a courageous move beyond the call of duty; Abi sat crossed-legged on the grass next to Herbert and looked out across the park. Herbert stared at her in surprise, but didn’t protest.
‘Weird day, huh?’ she mused, picking up a pebble and absently throwing it at a tin can that had fallen from a nearby rubbish bin.
‘Yeah.’ agreed Herbert with another sniff. He found a pebble of his own and threw it at the same can, knocking it over.
‘You have a change of clothes with you?’
‘No. Wasn’t supposed to get dunked, was I?’
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, occasionally tossing the odd stone towards the can. Carlo wondered if he should try and walk back to the van the long way so as not to alert Herbert, but he still didn’t trust the older boy and was unwilling to leave Abi alone with the enemy, even if the enemy was crying and covered with slime.
Abi broached this topic as tactfully as she could. ‘So what you crying for?’ she asked. Carlo mentally applauded her diplomacy, knowing that he would have used the same subtle tactic.
Not really in a position to deny it, Herbert fell back to the normal contingency answer used with his own parents. ‘Nothing.’ he shrugged.
‘Doesn’t look like nothing.’ Abi said. ‘You don’t just cry for nothing.’
Herbert looked like he was growing frustrated with the questions but then sighed and let out a little silent sob. ‘Everything has gone wrong.’ he said, his shoulders beginning to shake. ‘Mr Hill was furious. He shouted at me about … about everything. Then he sacked me.’ Suddenly more tears came, but Abi’s bucket of sisterly experience was starting to run dry. Ben had rarely cried when he was younger and on those occasions when he had it was normally due to running into something even harder than his own head and the tears generally stopped after
question “If there’s nothing wrong, what are you crying for?” Abi was starting to feel out of her depth.
‘Look, it’s not like this was your career or anything. It was just a job.’
‘But my Uncle got me that job. He’ll be so angry.’
‘You can get another job.’ Abi suggested, reasonably.
‘But I didn’t do anything wrong!’ Herbert moaned. ‘It’s not fair.’
Abi was on firmer ground here having heard this defence from Norton regularly, normally in regards to the denial of food. ‘So it’s not fair. Are you just going to sit there and moan about it?’
Herbert gave one final sniff. ‘No. No, I guess not.’ he answered with a slight smile. ‘If I sit here too long, I’ll end up glued to the tree.’ he laughed, leaning forward to ease some of the drying slime that had begun to congeal to the bark.
Abi smiled at him. ‘That’s the spirit.’ she said, a saying her Dad often used in such circumstances, which seemed to fit. ‘There’ll be other jobs. Or you could try to talk to Mr Hill. Do something to show him you deserve the job.’
‘Yeah, I could do that, I guess.’ Herbert mumbled. He turned and looked at Abi, green slime all over his face, tear tracks down his cheeks and little bits of dirt here and there from wiping his eyes with dirty hands. A twig fell from the tree and stuck to his hair. Abi had the grace not to laugh. Herbert looked like a rather despondent shrub.
‘Thanks.’ he said with surprising sincerity.
‘S’no problem.’ Abi replied with a grin.
Carlo felt oddly proud of his friend, daring to talk to Herbert like that. He thought of a story he once heard at school of a man helping a wounded lion remove a thorn from its paw, though he doubted any lion was as large or as green as Herbert.
Sensing that the time was right to move away, Carlo stood but unexpectedly heard a voice from beside him.
‘There you are, I’ve been looking for you.’ Luigi said.
‘Dad, shh!’ Carlo whispered, but too late, hearing a groan from Abi as Herbert stood up and walked around the tree.
‘What are you doing here?’ He growled, suddenly much more like his usual vicious self. ‘Have you been here all the time?’
‘Well, no, not quite.’ Carlo started, but Herbert’s anger was on the rise.
‘Were you listening?’
‘Not exactly, no.’
‘If you tell anyone, I’ll deck you!’ he roared at Carlo before rounding on Abi. ‘I thought you were… well, I don’t know. I thought you were being nice.’ Herbert said, sounding wounded.
‘I was being nice.’ she said. ‘I am nice. I was trying to help.’ she pleaded.
‘You knew he was there! You were both just having a laugh at me!’
‘No, it’s not like that. I wanted to make sure you were OK.’
‘Yeah, of course you did.’ Herbert scoffed. ‘You and Mister Perfect, here. You just wanted to rub it in, didn’t you?’
‘No, she was trying to help!’ Carlo said, in Abi’s defence.
‘Why should I believe you?’ he shouted, anger and embarrassment surging through him. ‘I will get my job back, just you see! And we’ll beat you!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t ever speak to me again!’ he screamed at Abi, storming off into the night.
Carlo sighed and sat down against the tree next to Abi, who looked on the verge of tears herself.
‘I was trying to help.’ she said quietly.
‘I know. Carlo said.
Luigi floated around the tree, feeling flustered. ‘Was it something I said?’
Herbert’s Revenge
The mood in the factory the next morning was celebratory. Lucy had organised a buffet breakfast for the entire staff, which Norton certainly approved of. Newton and Ben were reliving the moment Mr Hill had dragged Herbert into the gunge tank with him, laughing hysterically as they took turns to impersonate the incident, whilst Abi quoted various lines from the local newspaper’s coverage of the day to anyone who stood still long enough.
‘…and in the spirit of fair play the Leodoni’s team volunteered to take the plunge as well, proving they are as nice as their ice cream…’ she intoned to Lucy and Lumsden, happily.
Abi and Carlo had agreed not to mention the incident with Herbert to anyone and Carlo had asked his father not to mention it to the rest of the gang, though as Mr Leodoni was still unclear about what exactly all the shouting had been about, this wasn’t likely to be an issue.
‘I forgot to tell you.’ Ben said through a mouthful of food as he wandered over to Carlo from the buffet table holding a plate laden with sandwich triangles.
‘What.’ Carlo asked eventually, allowing his friend enough time to swallow first.
‘Neil was there yesterday. We got talking and y’know what? He was never asked to come back to work here.’
‘You must have misunderstood.’ Carlo said, shaking his head. ‘Uncle Randy said he asked all of the old staff back and most of those that said no had already moved on to new jobs.’
‘Well apparently he didn’t ask everyone.’ Ben continued, taking another bite of sandwich. ‘He said he was surprised he wasn’t asked. Especially after he heard Lucy had come back.’
‘That’s weird.’ Carlo mused. ‘I’ll ask Randy.’
‘He’s not here. No one’s seen him all morning.’ Ben supplied. ‘But I think this pretty much proves it was Neil who sabotaged the stock, doesn’t it? He was after revenge.’ he continued, chewing away happily. ‘Perhaps your dad was right about Neil after all? It was him!’
‘Can’t have been him,’ Carlo countered, ‘we already know Hill’s had something to do with that.’
Ben swallowed a big mouthful and followed it with a glug of lemonade. ‘Must have been in it together.’ he said finally. ‘Hill probably hired him to do it.’
‘I don’t know. I guess so.’ Carlo admitted. ‘My Dad has always thought it was him, this must prove it. But why didn’t Randy ask him back?’
Ben shrugged. ‘Because he was capable of sabotage? Well, doesn’t really matter now, huh? No one found out about the cockroach and I reckon you don’t need Neil anyway.’ Ben waved his hand to indicate the entire factory. ‘Look what you did without him.’
Carlo nodded in agreement. ‘Would have been a lot easier if he had been here, mind you.’ he said with a smile. ‘Right, I’ve got to go.’ Carlo finished, putting down his drink.
‘Where to?’ Ben asked surprised. ‘What can be so important in our moment of triumph?’
Carlo hesitated, but knew there was no point hiding it. ‘I’m going to see Vicky.’ he answered. As expected a huge grin appeared on Ben’s face.
‘Hot date, huh?’ he asked, nudging Carlo in the ribs.
‘No,’ Carlo protested, ‘I’m just meeting her at the shops, she wants to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘I don’t know.’ Carlo answered with a pained expression. ‘But Abi reckons that I’ve not been paying her enough attention, what with the factory and the fair and all. So I have to invite her out next week or something.’
‘Hot date, huh?’ Ben repeated, laughing and taking the opportunity to nudge Carlo in the ribs once more.
‘Oh, sod off!’ Carlo laughed, pushing his friend out of the way with a good natured shove. ‘Tell Randy if you see him. I’ll see you later.’
Vicky seemed genuinely pleased to see Carlo, though he had the distinct impression this was because she had said everything it was possible to say to everyone it was possible to say it to and was therefore happy to have a new audience to which she could say everything all over again. Carlo sat in the coffee shop and sipped his milkshake, nodding and making noises of agreement, surprise or shock as directed by the tone Vicky’s voice, though he was now quite lost in the thread of the conversation featuring a whole cast of characters that he did not know and had little interest in.
The “not actually a” date, therefore, seemed to be going in exactly the same way as previous dates, which was encouraging given they se
emed to still be going out, though Carlo wasn’t sure how given how little they had spoken over recent weeks. However on this occasion Carlo was slightly frustrated by Vicky’s constant chatter because for the first time he had an entire list of conversational topics which he could throw into a date situation, having previously been intent on playing the part of spectator.
He vaguely wondered if all relationships were like this but then noticed a pause in the constant babble as Vicky took a sip of milkshake, so he jumped straight into the conversational hole knowing it might be his only chance.
‘So did you go to the town fair yesterday?’ he asked, almost immediately spotting his mistake in asking a question rather than starting with an anecdote of his own. He groaned internally, accepting that he had surrendered possession of the conversation almost immediately.
It turned out that Vicky didn’t attend the fair but many of her friends had and there was an almost unlimited amount of gossip emanating from the event, which Vicky delivered in a continual state of enthusiasm with barely a pause for breath, eventually finishing with ‘…and then my brother’s friend Herbert fell into a pool of something and later on someone said they saw him crying and he got into an argument with my brother for telling everyone and then he started crying again when everyone was watching round my house and he shouted it was all the other guy’s fault which wasn’t fair because that guy wasn’t even properly related to his Dad anyway and Herbert would get him back for whatever it was he was crying about… or something like that.’ she eventually finished, taking a deep breath and smiling as she took a long pull of her shake through the straw.
Carlo felt like he had just been hit with a verbal weapon of mass destruction, the constant stream of words buffeting his ears like a strong wind.
Vicky mistook his silence for astonishment at the wonderful gossip she had provided and smiled knowingly.
‘I know, right?’ she said breathlessly, wrongly assuming he had found the story fascinating. But Carlo was mentally replaying the words, trying to catch up with the last few sentences as he was sure that something important had been hidden amongst the prattle.