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Beeware Page 4


  I start drifting off to a place with lots and lots of marbles. I think about beating Diana, Nathan, Carla and Josh all in one glorious game.

  I’m almost asleep when …

  Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

  Stupid mozzie!

  5

  Chapter 1

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  I’m not sure if what I’m hearing is the old bus backfiring, or my heart beating me up from the inside.

  We sway around a corner and the driver hits the brakes with a squeal. Through the dirty windscreen a young kangaroo stares up, its body quivering.

  I know how you feel, I think.

  The kangaroo hops away and before long we’re there. As I’m stumbling down the aisle, George Winterbottom’s beefy voice wafts from the back seat like a bad smell.

  ‘Hey, you! Looky here.’

  Even though I know he’s talking to me, I don’t turn around. Winterbottom has teased me more times than a dog has chewed on a bone, but he’s not the reason that my palms are sweatier than a hairy underarm. He’s more of an annoyance, like a mozzie buzzing around your face at night. The reason I’m so nervous is that pretty soon a dog might be chewing on one of my bones.

  I jump off the bus first, followed by my big brother, Tommy. He turns around to catch a flying Katy, the youngest member of our family.

  ‘Can you carry me home?’ she begs him. ‘Please?’

  ‘Just a little way,’ Tommy says. ‘Ask Danny to carry your bag.’

  Katy drops the bag on the road. That’s her way of asking. I think about leaving it there.

  ‘Hey, Danny-boy, where’s your hat?’ It’s Winterbottom, his fat face sticking out the bus window.

  I feel my head. It’s naked. Mum said she’ll kill me if I lose it again.

  My hat appears in Winterbottom’s hand and he goes ‘Da, da!’ like a magician. But really he’s just a thief ’cause he stole it from my bag.

  ‘Watch out for Killer,’ Winterbottom says, giving me a smirk. ‘Today could be the day he eats you.’

  He throws my hat onto the dirt and I feel a lump in my throat. Killer’s a vicious dog we have to walk past on our way home, and last week he bit Tommy so badly that Mum had to take him to the doctor’s for a tetanus shot. (Tommy, that is, not Killer.) What if Winterbottoms right?

  ‘Hey, George,’ says Tommy. ‘Tomorrow could be the day I eat you.’

  Winterbottom pulls his head in and the bus chugs off, black smoke streaming from the exhaust.

  Chapter 2

  Because Katy is just a kid, she forgets we have to walk past a crazy man-eater and starts singing one of her favourite songs.

  ‘I’m the queen of the castle and you’re the dirty rascal.’

  I poke my tongue at her.

  ‘Danny’s a dirty rascal! Danny’s a dirty rascal!’ Tommy swings her down from his shoulders. ‘I think that’s enough for one day.’

  ‘Oh, just a bit longer. Please?’

  ‘Maybe tomorrow. I have to keep an eye out for … cars.’

  ‘For Killer, you mean,’ I say.

  ‘Don’t say that name!’ Katy whines. ‘You know it makes me scared.’

  ‘I’ve told you before,’ Tommy says to me. ‘Don’t mention the K word in front of …’ He nods at Katy.

  I drop Katy’s bag at her feet and stretch my tired shoulders. ‘The K word? You mean Killer?’

  ‘Don’t!’ screams Katy.

  I grin and Tommy gives me a clip over the ear. Not hard, but it still stings.

  I spot a fist-sized rock and forget my troubles, kicking it along the road, commentating at the same time. ‘Danny’s got the ball. He gets past Katy, then Tommy. Look at the champion soccer player go!’ I start running faster, dribbling the rock expertly with my feet. ‘He only has the goalkeeper to beat, fat George Winterbottom. He kicks it so hard it makes a hole right through Winterbottoms stomach! He scores!’

  WOOF!

  I freeze.

  Tommy laughs. ‘It’s only Bluey.’

  ‘Danny’s scared of Bluey! Danny’s scared of Bluey!’ chants Katy.

  ‘Am not,’ I say.

  The cattle dog cross waddles down old man Johnson’s driveway. Bluey barks until he recognises us, then plops to the ground while we rub his belly.

  ‘Why aren’t all dogs this friendly?’ I ask Tommy.

  He’s stroking Bluey behind the ears. ‘Dogs are like people. Some are good, some aren’t.’

  Bluey’s eyes are closed; he’s enjoying every moment.

  ‘Why?’ asks Katy.

  Tommy shrugs. ‘Could be born that way.’

  ‘Can people be born wrong?’ asks Katy.

  ‘You were born out of Mum’s mouth,’ I say. ‘That’s why you talk so much.’

  ‘Was not!’ Katy looks at Tommy. ‘Was I?’

  Tommy points a finger at me and I stay well away. I don’t want another clip over the ear.

  Behind us comes the rumble of a car. Our heads turn.

  ‘Bill!’ Katy yells.

  I smile. It looks like I won’t have to face Killer after all.

  The ute stops beside us. Our neighbour’s gravelly voice drifts out. ‘G’day. Nice day for a walk?’

  ‘Bit hot,’ says Tommy.

  ‘Ya get that this time of year.’ He looks at Katy. ‘How are you, little Missy?’

  Katy gets right to business. ‘Can I’ve a lift?’

  Tommy tries to shoosh her but Katy tries again. ‘Please?’

  ‘I’d love to, but …’ Bill points to the back of the ute with his thumb ‘… I’m full up today.’

  The tray is jam-packed with timber. I feel like asking Bill if I can ride in the passenger’s seat while Tommy and Katy walk.

  ‘See you kids later, eh?’ Bill looks at me. ‘And protect your sister from that silly dog up ahead, boy-o. You’re getting bigger every time I see ya.’

  Instead of answering, I gulp.

  Chapter 3

  As we trudge up the road like soldiers, my mind replays every detail of last weeks attack. Killer managed to burrow underneath the old wooden fence and he flew at us like a bullet. When Tommy stepped in front of Katy and me, Killer latched onto his ankle, and no matter how much Tommy yelled and shook his leg – like a crazy, one-legged dancer – Killers sharp teeth wouldn’t let go. While Katy covered her crying eyes, I sprang into action – grabbing Killer, pulling him off Tommy, flipping him onto the ground and quickly placing my hands over his fierce jaws so he couldn’t open them. Dogs’ jaws are a lot more powerful biting down than they are opening up, which is why I was able to hold them closed. Or maybe I’m thinking of a crocodile …

  ‘Danny!’ Tommy says, snapping me out of my daydream. He leans in close so Katy can’t hear, although it’s pretty safe as she’s talking to herself about being in a circus. ‘If Killer comes at us today, I want you to do something, okay?’

  ‘Whaddya mean?’

  ‘Last time you just stood there. You should’ve picked up a stick or something. You heard what Bill said, you’re not a little kid anymore.’

  ‘I was gonna grab his mouth,’ I mumble. ‘But I couldn’t remember if it’s a dog’s or a croc’s mouth you can hold closed.’

  Tommy raises an eyebrow. ‘Just do something, okay?’

  I think this is why I’m so nervous. In my head, after last week’s attack, I can see all the things I could have done, should have done. But for some reason I didn’t do anything. I just stood there like a stunned mullet. Today it’s going to be different, I tell myself. Today I’m going to help Tommy. Today I’m going to …

  RUFF!

  I freeze. Although I can’t see him, I know it’s Killer. Some dogs bark slowly: ‘Roooof. Roooof.’ Not Killer. His bark is fast and mean, just like his bite.

  RAH, RAH, RAH, RAH, RAH, RAH!

  Katy stops talking about clowns and looks up. ‘Is that – ?’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ says Tommy. ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

  Tommy be
nds down and fills his pockets with rocks. He also grabs a large stick, which he holds behind his back so Katy won’t see it. I decide I need some ammunition as well. I find a smooth stone that fits perfectly into my palm. The way I can throw, Killer won’t know what hit him.

  ‘Whatever happens, don’t run,’ Tommy orders. ‘Dogs can sense fear and they’ll attack even worse. Just look straight ahead and keep walking.’

  The barking gets louder and louder until it feels like it’s rising from the pit of my stomach. Katy and I take Tommy’s advice and stare straight ahead – not running but power walking. I squeeze the stone so hard my knuckles turn white.

  All of a sudden Tommy stops, so we stop too. ‘Look,’ he says.

  I timidly turn my head and see Killer running back and forth – growling, barking and slobbering – and it looks like he’d love to eat us. But he can’t. His collar is locked to a thick chain.

  A tiny part of me is disappointed. I want to show Tommy that I’m not useless. I remember the rock in my hand and without thinking I chuck it at Killer. Although it’s a one in a thousand shot, somehow my aim is true and the rock smacks the dog on the backside. He wheels around and barks even more loudly, and tugs so hard that he nearly snaps the chain, and his neck.

  ‘Hey!’ Tommy snarls at me. ‘What do ya think you’re doing?’

  The words sting. I thought Tommy would be happy. ‘Getting him back for biting you.’

  ‘You’re making him mad. Tomorrow there might be no chain.’

  Even a long way past, we can still hear the barking.

  Chapter 4

  For the next few weeks I almost forget about Killer. Each afternoon he’s chained tight, and except for a moment of fear when I first hear his vicious bark, I hardly give him another thought.

  I’m more into soccer. All the rocks I’ve kicked down the road must have done me some good, because I’ve made the school team. Unfortunately, Winterbottom has made it as well, but it’s not too bad as he’s goalkeeper and I’m striker. We’re at least half a field apart.

  When I wake up this morning – hugging my soccer ball – the adrenaline pumps through me like red cordial. Today is our first game and I’ve got a good feeling because last night in my dream I scored 87 goals.

  Mum cooks me a special breakfast – pancakes. I drip syrup onto them from a spoon. ‘Where’s Tommy?’

  ‘He’s been up all night, sick,’ says Mum. ‘He’s a bit better this morning but I’m giving him the day off school to sleep it off.’

  Mum looks at me. ‘Now, I want you and Katy to walk straight home this afternoon. Do you think you’re old enough to do that?’

  I nod but don’t answer. My mouth is stuffed like a turkey.

  At lunchtime the teacher presents us with our jerseys and as soon as I pull mine on I feel special. A girl from my class says ‘good luck’ and I figure she must be talking to me because there’s no one behind me. Being someone who needs luck means I must be pretty good.

  We hop on a bus and travel to the soccer fields. For most of us it’s our first ever game. Brandon Miller, who plays for a club, tells us that the ref’s whistle is so loud that if you’re too close when he blows it your ears will fall off. I decide to stay as far away from the ref as possible.

  The game starts and it’s heaps of fun, especially the few times I actually get to kick the ball. Most of the time it’s near our goal, but because Winterbottom is so wide, the other team can’t get it past him. The ball keeps rebounding off his stomach.

  For something to do, I talk to the defender who’s marking me. His name’s Stevie.

  ‘Who do you think’ll win, us or youse?’ I ask him.

  ‘Us,’ he says.

  ‘I reckon we will. You want to do rock, paper, scissors to see who’s right?’

  ‘Sure.’

  I choose rock and he goes with scissors, so I win.

  ‘Best outta three,’ he says.

  We both do rock, and as we’re about to go again I hear the coach yell, ‘Danny!’

  I look up to see the ball flying over my head, towards the opponents goal. Brandon must have kicked it; he’s the only one in our team who can boot a soccer ball so far. Stevie is still playing rock, paper, scissors, so he doesn’t run after it straightaway. But I do – so fast that my hat falls off.

  When I get to the ball I start dribbling, just like I do with the rocks on the road. I even commentate in my head. ‘Danny gets closer to goal. The keeper looks nervous. He takes off his glasses and wipes them on his jersey. Look at Danny go! He’s faster than a speeding bullet. He runs up close to the keeper and kicks it at his stomach. The keeper dives out of the way. Goal!’

  Hang on, I think. GOAL! I scored, and not just in my imagination. This is unreal! I mean … real!

  The ref blows his whistle and although it hurts my ears they don’t fall off. Brandon runs up and pats me on the back. ‘We won! And it’s all because of you!’

  ‘Really?’ I reply.

  Stevie shakes my hand. ‘That was a good trick, the way you made me lose concentration.’

  I don’t tell him that it was no trick, just a fluke.

  Chapter 5

  That afternoon on the bus ride home, I’m unpleasantly surprised when Winterbottom sits next to me. I’m skinny so I don’t need a lot of room, which is just as well because Winterbottom takes up way more than half a seat. He’s eating from a packet of Twisties, and although I’m looking at them, he doesn’t offer me one. He does talk more nicely to me than usual, though.

  ‘That was a pretty good goal you scored,’ he says.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Of course, if it wasn’t for me we’d have lost. My super-fast reflexes kept them scoreless.’

  Your super-wide body, more like it, I think, but I don’t say this to Winterbottom. He’s a lot bigger than me.

  Winterbottom looks out the window. ‘I wish Dad had seen me play. He reckons I’m hopeless at everything, even calls me fat.’

  But you are fat, I think.

  ‘I hate it when he’s mean.’ Winterbottom still gazes out, like he’s speaking to the passing trees. ‘I’m never gonna be like him.’

  Luckily we’re at my stop so I don’t have to listen to any more of Winterbottoms crazy talk. I rock and roll down the aisle, hop off the bus, and turn around just in time to catch Katy, who jumps into my arms. As we set off down the road a voice sings from the bus window.

  ‘Hey, Danny-boy.’

  My hand instantly touches my head. My hat’s there, safe and sound. I decide not to turn around and cop Winterbottoms abuse.

  ‘I’m not going to tease ya. Promise.’

  I’ve heard that before.

  The bus starts to drive off, and for some unknown reason I twirl and spot Winterbottom with his arm hanging out the window. He throws me a smile and a half-full bag of Twisties. ‘See ya tomorrow.’

  I’m too surprised to answer, but give a small wave with my left hand as my right catches the Twisties and slips them into my pocket. I’d rather not share them with a hungry little sister.

  On the way home I’m on top of the world. I’ve scored a goal, scored some Twisties, and somehow scored the respect of Winterbottom. Life can’t get much better.

  RUFF!

  ‘What’s that?’ asks Katy.

  ‘Probably just Bluey,’ I say, although I know it’s not. I don’t want to scare Katy; I’m scared enough for the both of us. My heart’s already racing like a V8. My mind’s not really worried, however, because I’m sure Killer will be safely chained up.

  I’m sure until I see him up ahead, running tight circles on the road, waiting for us.

  He looks hungry.

  Chapter 6

  My mind starts whirring, trying to figure out how to get out of this dog-eating dilemma. The trouble is, it doesn’t whir fast enough. I can’t think of anything.

  ‘When we get home, will you watch my circus?’ Katy asks. ‘I’m gonna walk on a type-rope.’

  I think, I’ve got more
important things to worry about than a circus … And then I get an idea.

  ‘Circus performers have to be able to juggle,’ I say. ‘Do you want to learn how?’

  Katy’s face lights up like a big top.

  We find some round rocks on the side of the road. My plan is to keep Katy busy, staying well away from Killer, until Bill drives past. Then we’ll catch a lift, poke our tongues out at the dumb dog as we speed past, and live happily ever after. Well, live after today, at least. That’s if Bill actually does drive past. If not, we’ll be like tightrope walkers without poles.

  ‘You throw one rock up in the air,’ I say, ‘and at the same time pass the second rock to your other hand, like this.’ When I show her, I drop both rocks onto the road. Juggling’s harder than it looks.

  ‘Let me try,’ says Katy.

  She throws the rock and instead of it going straight up, it shoots off and hits me in the head.

  ‘Ouch!’ I cry.

  Katy laughs. ‘This is fun!’

  But, like most little kids, it’s only fun for a few minutes. ‘I want to go now,’ she whines after she drops a rock onto her big toe.

  ‘Just a bit longer.’ I glance down the road, hoping against hope to see Bill’s ute. ‘You’re getting really good. The crowd will love it.’

  ‘No! Mum said we have to walk straight home.’ Once Katy makes up her mind she’s as stubborn as a strong man. ‘I’m gonna tell on you!’

  I can see I’m not going to win this fight, so I put some rocks in my pocket and trudge towards another fight. One with Killer.

  The closer we get, the more hyper the dog becomes. He doesn’t run towards us but up and down the driveway, growling and shaking his head from side to side, like he’s possessed by a demon. I talk to Katy, hoping to distract her, but eventually she sees him.

  ‘Oh no!’ she says, putting her hands over her eyes.

  I grab her by the shoulders. ‘Remember what Tommy said. Look straight ahead and don’t run. I’ll protect you.’

  ‘I don’t want you,’ she sobs. ‘I want Tommy!’