by Tim Harris
‘Argh!’
Mr Bambuckle’s voice brought me back to reality. In that split second his brilliant lessons flashed through my mind. He had taught us to work together and to look out for each other. How could I hurt Carrot? How could I hurt anyone? I slammed my foot on the brake and we came skidding to a stop just inches from the tree.
‘We’re very close to those branches …’ observed Carrot.
Ashamed, I sat in the driver’s seat until everyone had unpacked. Then I reversed the bus back onto the road. How could I be so foolish?
‘You’re not just a talented cook,’ said Mr Bambuckle as I joined the others at camp. ‘Nice manoeuvre.’
Mr Bambuckle was always encouraging me. I could feel my cheeks flushing from a strange mixture of pride and shame. I wondered if I should give the cash and scissors back to Vex.
I flicked through the money in the dim light of my tent. I’d never had three hundred dollars before. The fact it was only half of the payment got my blood pumping.
There is this chef I admire – Rosa Carter. She lives in the city and runs masterclasses every now and then. I’ve been dying to go to one. I know she could teach me things in person that I could never learn from a podcast or television show. Plus, it’s always nice to meet your heroes.
Her masterclass courses cost six hundred dollars. It’s exactly how much I could earn if I finish the job for Vex.
Thinking about the cooking classes was too much temptation and I headed to the camp fire with renewed vigour. I had a job to do, and do it I would.
‘Who would like a marshmallow?’ said Mr Bambuckle.
‘Me, please!’ said everyone.
‘First, you’ll need to find something to cook them with,’ said the teacher.
Before I knew it, everyone was disappearing into the bush. I watched Carrot venture off in a direction of his own, so I stole after him as quietly as I could.
Carrot waded through the bush, searching for his perfect roasting stick in the dark. I hid behind a tree and listened hard, gripping the scissors tightly. I had to let my ears guide me. I couldn’t risk being seen.
Carrot was chatting away to himself. ‘I miss you, Pop. I miss you, Jones. Hope you’re having fun whatever you’re doing …’
He rustled through the undergrowth, picking up sticks and tossing them away. ‘No good,’ he said. ‘Too thin … Hmm, this one’s okay.’
I crept out from behind the cover of the tree to find higher ground. My plan was to rush past him and slice off as much hair as I could before he had time to realise what had happened. I needed a run-up.
Carrot ventured closer to my hiding spot and I took my chance. I launched myself at full speed, aiming the scissors where I thought the top of his head would be.
But I missed.
I whooshed past his head – the curly orange target still intact – and landed awkwardly on the ground.
Carrot got spooked and ran back to the camp fire.
Lucky. I was relieved he didn’t come over to investigate – I would have been caught red-handed.
As I picked myself up, the smell of a nearby plant drew my attention. I reached out and felt the flower. Could it really be? It was a plant I had heard a lot about but had never come across before. I pulled the plant from the earth, being sure to dislodge the round base of the stem from the soil, then I pocketed it, eager to get back to the fire.
I looped around the bush and entered camp from a different direction. I couldn’t let anyone know I had been near Carrot.
Later that evening, my classmates nominated me as head chef. We were going to cook dinner for ourselves and the teachers. I was chuffed.
Miffy asked if I would like any help with the preparations.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Scarlett and … Carrot. Oh, and Ren and Vinnie can choose dessert.’
I had an idea, but I needed a bit of extra time to make it happen.
My two helpers peeled the vegetables while I cooked the chicken over a makeshift fire. When nobody was watching, I retrieved the plant from my pocket and mashed the bulb into a gloopy paste.
Colchicum autumnale – meadow saffron – a poisonous plant which, when ingested, can lead to hair loss.
I began slicing the chicken and serving it up. I cut a slit in the piece I’d allocated for Carrot and carefully dabbed a tiny amount of the paste inside. Once it was set aside, I could put the finishing touches on the dessert.
Eventually, everything was ready and I made sure Carrot had his special plate with the poisoned chicken.
Mr Bambuckle was pleased with our efforts. ‘This is the most astonishing dinner I have ever had the privilege of smelling.’
He’s always so positive. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Just wait until you taste it.’
Secretly, I couldn’t wait for Carrot to taste his.
‘Indeed,’ said Mr Bambuckle. Then he did something unthinkable. He knocked Carrot’s plate out of his hands and the chicken splattered all over the ground.
How could it be? Did the teacher know about meadow saffron? Could he smell it? The only thing I knew was that my plan had been foiled.
‘How very careless of me, dear Carrot. I’m sincerely sorry,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
Something in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing. They sparkled knowingly and he flicked me a quick glance.
I love listening to podcasts. They’re a great way to study. I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed and I break a lot of things, but I can still learn. I listen to cooking podcasts almost every day because I want to be a gourmet chef when I’m older.
Before bed, I listened to a podcast called ‘A hacker’s guide to hair removal’. I had to start planning another hairdressing attack from scratch. I paid close attention to the ideas and took mental notes. I thought about how much I wanted that masterclass with Rosa Carter and found renewed determination. I would strike again the next day.
I didn’t sleep well. Damon woke me up by rolling me over because I was snoring. Then he zipped my tent back up too loudly. I’ve always been a firm believer that slower zipping is quieter. Damon should have done that.
The next day, during Miss Frost’s challenge, I found myself alone with Carrot. I hadn’t planned for it to work out that way, it just … happened.
After seeing Miss Frost chase down Sammy, I fled in the opposite direction and bumped into Carrot along the way.
‘I think we’re safe here,’ he said, as we stopped for a break on the edge of a shallow ravine.
‘I agree,’ I said.
It was the perfect opportunity. Carrot was completely unsuspecting and knew nothing of the scissors in my pocket. All I had to do was grab him and cut off his hair using the speed snipping technique I’d heard about in the podcast.
I dipped my hand into my pocket and grasped the scissors. But as I did, Miss Frost exploded out from behind some trees and charged straight at us. She must have cottoned on to the fact we were together – an easy double target.
It all happened in slow-motion. I had the sudden realisation that I could protect Carrot. I just had to nudge him down the ravine and distract Miss Frost. We couldn’t let her win. We were a team, and teammates work together.
I glanced between Carrot, the ravine and the charging Miss Frost.
‘You’ll be safe down there,’ I said, pushing him gently on the chest.
He stumbled backwards and then rolled down the ravine, vanishing beneath a thick bush. He was out of sight.
Miss Frost pulled up suddenly and examined her tracking device. ‘That Miley Ampersand is nearby.’ She looked at me and snarled. ‘You’ll be easy pickings later on, Slogger. I have some real sport to catch now.’
Then she dashed away in another direction.
I lingered at the top of the ravine for a while, waiting to see if Carrot would reemerge. When he didn’t, I felt terrible. Maybe I had hurt him? I hadn’t meant to. I was honestly trying to protect him from Miss Frost. I was beginning to feel even guiltier about taking Vex
up on his offer.
When I found out later that Carrot was not only safe but had won, I was half relieved, half angry and half hungry (from all the running). I was torn in three like … two pieces. I’m really not very good at similes, or maths. But then I realised something. As much as I wanted the masterclass, I wanted Carrot to be okay more. The right thing to do became as green as grass. Or is it as clear as glass? Anyway, the main point is I knew I had to call the deal off. Carrot was more important than the masterclass with Rosa Carter. I had to learn to put other people before myself.
I went over to Vex’s tent and slipped the money through a little gap in the zip. I didn’t want to wake him, but I knew that when he found the money he’d realise the deal was off.
Which leads me to now and our game of teamwork charades.
The scissors fell out of my pocket because I was stupid and forgot to return them to Vex with the money. I guess I was even more stupid to agree to cut Carrot’s hair in the first place.
I’m sorry, Mr Bambuckle.
I’m sorry, Carrot.
But let me know if you’d ever like a haircut. I know some great techniques.
Mr Bambuckle listened attentively to Slugger’s story. The rest of the class watched on too, intrigued as to how the teacher would respond. Carrot in particular, who had no idea of Slugger’s intent until now, was utterly absorbed.
‘Well, dear Slugger,’ said Mr Bambuckle eventually, ‘I commend you for having the courage to tell me the truth. Honesty is always the first step in being true to yourself.’
Slugger sighed with relief.
‘However,’ said the teacher, ‘we must consider the consequences.’
Slugger’s head drooped. A punishment he could handle. His favourite teacher dealing it out, not so much.
Mr Bambuckle signalled for Carrot to stand. ‘Slugger, examine your classmate.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Slugger.
‘Look at him,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘Study him.’
‘Ummm … okay …’
Mr Bambuckle stood behind Carrot. ‘Slugger, what do you see?’
Slugger thought about this for a while. ‘I see Carrot Grigson. I see my friend.’
‘That is all,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
‘Wait,’ said Slugger, ‘you’re not going to punish me?’
Mr Bambuckle’s blue jacket shimmered in the afternoon light. ‘My dear boy, you’ve already punished yourself. Anyone who wrestles with right and wrong like you have, has experienced quite enough anguish as it is. I’ll leave it up to you to continue moving forward.’
Slugger nodded slowly, glowing with the confidence his teacher had instilled in him.
‘There is just one other matter concerning the situation,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘When the time comes, I shall speak to Vex regarding his role in the story.’
‘Hey! Where did Scarlett go?’ said Miffy suddenly.
‘She was here a few minutes ago,’ said Victoria.
‘I see brake lights further down the road,’ said Sammy. ‘I think she’s gone.’
‘She has gone,’ said Miss Frost, who had returned to the camp fire.
The students had been so engrossed in Slugger’s story, they had failed to notice Miss Frost tap Scarlett on the shoulder and lead her away from the camp site. Scarlett had wanted to call out to Mr Bambuckle and her classmates, but she could not find the right words or bear to interrupt Slugger’s story. She was sent away without a farewell or any kind wishes, expelled from Blue Valley School.
Unlike his pupils, Mr Bambuckle had in fact noticed his beloved student leave. While he had longed to reassure Scarlett that things would work out in the end, he trusted in the girl’s resilience. He knew she could survive at any other school, and he looked forward to the day he would welcome her back to Blue Valley.
Miss Frost, meanwhile, took full control of camp. Her position allowed her to dictate terms, and she was using this power to stamp her authority over Mr Bambuckle. Discipline was the new order.
The rest of the afternoon and evening was a disappointment to the students. The assistant principal made them memorise sums and spelling words, stopping only for a quick dinner break, before working them long into the night.
The children eventually went to bed feeling rather sorry for themselves.
The morning sun broke over the horizon, illuminating the dew on the tents. Damon rolled over in his sleeping-bag. He’d slept like a baby, courtesy of the Himalayan tea Mr Bambuckle had brewed for him before bed.
Slugger had slept like a baby too. He sucked on his thumb through the night, deep in subconscious reflection.
Roused by the brightening sky, the students emerged from their tents and yawned.
Miss Frost greeted them with the snap of a clipboard. ‘Right, see to it that you pack up everything before breakfast. Ensure your tents are folded correctly.’
The children, not wanting any more drama, obeyed robotically. This was how things had been done before Mr Bambuckle had arrived at Blue Valley School, and it appeared they were fast headed back that way.
‘Hey,’ said Damon, ‘look what I found!’ He sheepishly handed Mr Bambuckle the pole he had lost while trying to set up the teacher’s spare tent.
‘No speaking!’ hissed Miss Frost.
As the students set about packing up their things, Miss Frost pulled Mr Bambuckle aside.
‘We’ll be reporting to Mr Sternblast immediately upon our return to school. There is, of course, the issue regarding Chugger’s dangerous scissors to discuss. You must answer for a breach of Section J in the student safety document.’
Mr Bambuckle chuckled. ‘I’d be delighted to spend the time with you.’
The teacher watched as Slugger helped Carrot pull down his tent. Carrot tripped over a tent peg and Slugger caught him just before he hit the ground. The boys laughed and Slugger patted Carrot on the back. He then muscled his friend’s tent neatly into its bag before attending to his own.
‘Look at that,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘I believe you’ll find outcome RF4-A says a thing or two about taking action after reflecting. It seems Slugger has done both just splendidly.’
Miss Frost’s lips twitched.
A shadow passed overhead.
‘What was that?’ said Albert, adjusting his glasses to get a better look.
‘I believe the speckled-dagger vulture has decided to make an appearance,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
Dodger twittered anxiously from inside one of the teacher’s pockets as the shadow passed over them again.
‘What utter nonsense,’ snapped Miss Frost. ‘It’s likely an eagle. There’s no such thing as a speckled-dagger vulture. You’ll do well to stop filling the children’s heads with ridiculous stories.’
‘And you’ll do well to mind yours,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
‘I beg your pardon?!’
But it was too late. A large dollop of bird dropping splashed on top of Miss Frost’s silver hair, completely smothering her diamond bobby pin in sticky, smelly yuck.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘The speckled-dagger vulture is rather notorious for doing that.’
Miss Frost shrieked and flailed her arms, running away in the direction of her car.
‘She looks like one of those inflatable car yard men,’ said Damon.
‘Indeed,’ said the teacher, with a wry smile.
The children hauled their suitcases to the camp fire area and sat down. The space left by Scarlett – an empty log – was already felt.
Mr Bambuckle blinked brightly in the morning sunlight, a knowing look on his face. ‘I suppose it’s time we check on Vex.’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Sammy, dashing over to his classmate’s tent.
The teacher’s green eyes glistened like emeralds as he awaited Sammy’s report, and it was only a matter of seconds before the news was broken.
Sammy rushed back to the logs, panting. ‘He’s gone. He’s taken his bag and vanished!’
The students gasped.
‘He left this note behind,’ added Sammy, handing a piece of paper to the teacher.
Mr Bambuckle grinned from ear to ear as he read the note. ‘It seems Vex has gone on an adventure,’ he said. ‘I hope you’re all ready for one too.’ The much-loved teacher’s brown hair ruffled in the wind. ‘I know I am.’
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Version 1.0
Mr Bambuckle’s Remarkables Go Wild
ePub ISBN – 9780143789031
First published by Random House Australia 2018
Copyright © Tim Harris, 2018
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Random House Australia book
Published by Penguin Random House Australia Pty Ltd
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Addresses for the Penguin Random House group of companies can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com/offices.
Cover and internal illustration by James Hart
Cover design by Christabella Designs
Ebook by Firstsource
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