The Adventures of Stunt Boy and His Amazing Wonder Dog Blindfold (12 page)

He crouched down so our heads were at the same height.

‘You okay, little bro?' he said, before backpedalling. ‘Sorry, I didn't mean “little”. I meant . . . You know what I meant. I'm not just saying “bro” because dudes say “bro”. I mean it, you're like a little bro to me and I'll always look out for you.'

‘Really?' I said. ‘Why? Because you like my sister?'

‘Nah, not that,' he laughed, a little embarrassed. ‘It's because you remind me of myself when I was your age. I really could have done with a big brother then.' He was quiet for a moment, then he asked, ‘Okay?'

‘Yeah, okay,' I said my headache disappearing as if the pressure in my brain had suddenly been relieved.

‘Right, tomorrow it'll be just you and me the whole day, okay, buddy boy, because I want us to do some jumps that blow people's minds. Now go and say sorry to your sister and get her to teach you how to use a washing machine so you can wash your own underpants!'

I went inside and found Jem having a little cry in the kitchen.

‘I'm sorry, Jem,' I said, feeling horrible. ‘I didn't mean to make you cry.'

‘Stunt Boy, I don't want to be anyone's mum, but sometimes you make me. I miss Mum so much. You don't remember her but I do. She was the best. I feel awful that you didn't even get to know her. That's why I try my best to be the sort of person she was.'

‘You are, Jem, and I know I can be a real brat, I'm really sorry,' I said, the words just falling out my mouth as Blindfold sat down in front of me, looking up into my eyes and demanding his own apology. ‘I'm sorry that I said your breath was bad, Blindfold.'

It was bad but I shouldn't have said it to Blindfold's face. He's a very sensitive dog.

21

I don't know who to trust

I
woke up in an awesome mood. I had so much energy that when my alarm went off at 6.40 am, I didn't wait for Jem to drag me out of bed, I jumped straight up, ready for training. I even had a clean pair of undies! I had washed two pairs in the sink in the bathroom last night. Caleb had showed me how, as he said he always had to wash his undies in hotel room sinks although he admitted to sometimes wearing the same pair two days in a row.

At training, Ginger announced that the entire new season was looking like it was going to be a complete sell-out! Everyone was busting for the opening show tomorrow night. There was such a sense of anticipation and excitement in the air that you could feel it. Stoked was back!

By 9.30 am I was on time and waiting for Jem out the front of the office, so we could have a quick visit with Dad, as the whole day would be taken up with Caleb, and then tonight was a full dress rehearsal.

An unfamiliar white car pulled up and I watched as two men got out, their necks spilling right over their buttoned-up shirt collars like melted candle wax as they puffed on cigarettes. I hate smoking, particularly in cars, because then the car stinks forever. One was moustached, one wasn't. Were they twins? There was something familiar about the men and I felt as if I knew them, but I couldn't think where from.

‘Stone me, is that William?' said the one with a moustache as he walked towards me, dropping his cigarette and stamping it into the earth. ‘It is! I'd recognise a Stoked kid anywhere. How old are you now, boy? Ten at least, judging by the size of you.'

I looked at him, confused and affronted that he thought I was ten!

‘I don't think the boy has a clue who we are, Ken,' said the other man.

Then it dawned on me who they were – my uncles Ken and Kevin! My heart and stomach sank to my knees. What were they doing suddenly turning up here? They hadn't even visited their own brother in hospital!

‘We are family, boy!' said Uncle Kevin, squeezing my face so I could smell the stale cigarette smoke on his yellow nicotine-stained fingers. ‘Uncle Kevvy and Uncle Ken.'

‘Chip off the old block, isn't he?' said Ken. ‘It's like looking at Evan as a boy!'

‘And from what we hear, he's as naughty as Evan was,' said my Uncle Kevin, solemnly as if I was in trouble for something.

‘Jemima!' said Uncle Ken, extending his arms out for a hug when Jem turned up. ‘Would you look at you? It must be five years! What a lovely young woman you've grown into.'

‘You've got a hide turning up here!' said Jem, taking a step back so he hugged the air. ‘You didn't even come over and visit your own brother in hospital! He nearly died.'

‘We were on standby for that eventuality,' said Uncle Ken.

‘Standby. Gee thanks,' said Jem, hands defiantly on her hips.

‘We've got businesses to run!' protested Uncle Kevin.

Then Ginger Styles and Pikelet arrived together.

‘My dad's brothers Ken and Kevin have turned up,' I said with a vague swing of my hand in their direction.

‘Hello, Kevin, I'm Ginger,' she said, shaking Kevin's hand before I had even said which brother was which. How did she know the moustached brother was Kevin? It was then I knew her tears were made of crocodiles!

‘Nice to meet you at last,' said Kevin.

‘Pikelet,' said Pikelet, stepping forward and shaking Ken's hand, before shooting me a wink as Ken's face crumpled in pain from the handshake. ‘I've got to get these kids to the hospital so they can see their dad. They go every day.'

‘How is Evan?' said Ken, pretending to care.

‘Alive and getting better,' I said. ‘Stoked Circus is alive too. We've nearly sold out every show for the next two weeks.'

Uncle Kevin sucked his lip and moustache into his mouth, his forehead crinkling.

‘I don't know how to break this to you, kids. There aren't going to be any more shows. The insurance company has contacted us saying they won't cover us after your father's accident and all the publicity concerning you kids performing stunts. They can't be seen to be supporting children setting themselves on fire and doing aerial tricks on motorbikes. Not in today's climate. I tend to agree. Kids need to be protected.'

A big bag of wind shot out of my lungs in one go and went up to the sky, leaving me completely empty. ‘I've been a stunt boy since I was born, it's in my blood and Jem's –' Then it hit me what they were actually saying. ‘What do you mean? No more shows?'

‘We can't do a thing about it. We've tried. Trust us. Another reason we are here is because news has reached us that William has been getting in trouble with the police,' Kevin said to Ginger. ‘That is not good, son, not good at all. If you start getting in trouble with the police at your age, it's a one-way trip to prison.'

‘I was trying to save the circus,' I protested.

‘Your dad has let the two of you run wild. You should be doing normal things like playing video games, where you can't get hurt, not this craziness. We know all about it – our father had no sense of responsibility either,' said Ken. ‘We've let this go on too long, William and Jemima. Now your father is in hospital, we feel it is time to step in and put a stop to this madness. It's time to give up stunts and get a decent education. We've been looking into boarding schools.'

‘Boarding schools? I'm an A-grade student!' protested Jem. I kept quiet, as I was a B/C, must try harder kind of guy.

‘Can they do this?' I said desperately, turning to Ginger and Jem.

‘It's nothing to do with us, it's the insurance companies. I'm sorry, our hands are tied,' said Kevin, turning to Ginger. ‘Can we have a word in the office?'

‘Don't worry, kids, the show will go on. I'm sure we can sort something out,' she said, the blood draining from her face before she disappeared into the office with them.

‘See, I told you something was going on,' I said to Jem and Pikelet as we got into the car. ‘I knew it. I knew it all along. It's a conspiracy!'

Mr Barnstable had just finished his rounds and was sitting on a desk in the nurses' station. I poked my head around the glass when I saw him.

‘Can we ban people from coming to see my dad?' I asked him.

‘Who do you want to ban?'

‘My dad's brothers,' I said.

‘We can't ban family members from visiting just because you don't like them, Stunt.'

‘It's not just a case of not liking them, it's because I don't know what they're capable of doing,' I said. ‘If they do turn up, can you make sure there's a security guard with them at all times?'

‘You'll keep an eye on them, won't you?' said Mr Barnstable to the nurses, before winking at them.

What do you have to do to get taken seriously when you're a kid?

On the way home, Pikelet, Jem and I didn't say a word. There was a stunned silence. How could my uncles pull the plug on something their own father had started just because they didn't like circuses? When we got back, the bad news had spread around Stoked. You could just feel it.

The three of us went into the big top and the buzzy uplifting energy of the morning had been replaced by bitter disappointment, as people hung around in groups looking as if they were at a funeral. Everyone wanted to give me a hug and I gladly accepted, falling into their warm embraces. They hugged me like they hugged me after Dad's accident. It felt like Stoked Stunt Circus had died in front of our very eyes.

Sue told me Caleb was up at the practise jumps riding out his frustration. I walked through the circus, past the hotdog stall, past sideshow alley, past the bike shed, towards the jumps. In the far distance I saw Lefty Blue Eye looking around then unlocking a barely used storage shed that housed old mechanical equipment. What was he up to?

I got to the jumps and saw Caleb and Hayley practising together. I watched them for a while before they noticed me. Caleb waved, then they both came riding over. I didn't know what to say. I just stood there with my mouth open and nothing came out. I was speechless.

‘Aw, I know, Stunt, it sucks,' Caleb said, flipping his visor up and looking worried. ‘You okay?'

‘You've come all this way and they're not going to let you ride. All those kids were coming,' I said, my face crumpling. ‘I can't believe this is the end of Stoked.'

‘They'll sort it out, Stunt, I know they will. There'll be a way,' said Hayley. ‘You've just got to keep positive. Think positive thoughts.'

‘Hayley, what good are positive thoughts when my uncles are hellbent on destroying our circus?' I said.

‘According to Ginger, your uncles have said they've tried every insurance company in the country,' said Hayley.

‘Yeah right! What the hell would you know?'

‘Hey, Hayley, maybe give me some time with my little bro here, okay?' said Caleb.

‘Whatever, Caleb. See you later, Stunt,' said Hayley. ‘It'll be okay, kiddo.'

‘Stoked has been having some serious bad luck lately,' said Caleb.

‘Caleb, don't you get it?' I said, annoyed. ‘It's a conspiracy.'

‘A conspiracy? What do you mean?'

‘Someone is trying to destroy our circus! First Dad's accident and now this,' I said. ‘I'm not paranoid, Caleb. I know people have accidents, but I've been over it in my head ten hundred million times. I saw him jump, everything looked so normal. Dad had already landed his back wheel when it was like he just lost it. You're an experienced rider, Caleb – how can you lose control on landing after you've landed your back wheel? The bike didn't lose power, so he had control over it. That's why the police keep saying it was human error.'

‘Obviously his back wheel is going to land first, so why would it then suddenly blow out on impact?'

‘The police are saying his front wheel must have hit at a bad angle because it just kind of wobbled and gave way and they couldn't find a thing wrong with it. Then they thought the engine could have lost power mid-flight but the engine was fine.'

‘Where is the bike now?' said Caleb. ‘I'd like to take a look at it. You know I've got this freaky ability with machines. I'm like the bike whisperer. Bikes talk to me
.
. .
they tell me stuff.'

To make a point, he started the engine and put his head to it.

‘What is it?' he said. ‘You need some new spark plugs? Okay, we'll sort you out. Where is your dad's bike? I could take a look and see if I can get a whisper out of her.'

‘I don't know where it is. When the forensic report came back the police said his bike was going to be returned to us that week, but nobody has said anything about it coming back since,' I said. Then the image of Lefty Blue Eye shiftily going into the lock-up storeroom triggered something in my brain. ‘Hang on for a second. It may be a long shot but let's take a ride because I may just know where it is.'

I jumped on Caleb's bike and we rode over to the storage shed. Lefty must have still been inside because the shed was unlocked. I wrenched open the door and saw a big white sheet on the ground covered with thousands of tiny black and silver parts, and right in the middle of them was a bent-over figure wearing a pair of blue overalls.

‘Get away from that bike!' I said, recognising my dad's fuel tank, which had angel wings painted on it. My voice frightened me – as it sounded deep, like a man's. ‘You're trying to destroy the evidence. I know you had something to do with it, Lefty Blue Eye. You were the last person with the bike before he crashed it and you went to see Barry Chesterley! Did he pay you? Did he?'

Caleb extended his arm across my chest as if it was a seat belt in a car, in case I was going to do anything physical.

Lefty Blue Eye turned around and fixed me with a sorrowful stare. His hooded green and blue eyes had tears that looked like they might just spill over and roll all the way down his lined face.

‘If I had tried to kill your dad, do you really think I would have stayed on at Stoked and spent every waking hour trying to work out what went wrong with the stunt, Stunt? I have disassembled and reassembled the bike over and over to work out what went wrong,' said Lefty Blue Eye, wiping his grey hair out of his eyes with his grease-stained fingers. ‘I had nothing to do with your dad's accident, but I do take full responsibility that one of my bikes bottomed out and one of my riders nearly died. I take that very personally! That's what's killing me, not that you're spreading rumours all over the circus that I had something to do with it. What would I have to gain from Stoked closing down? Where would an old mechanic like me go?'

Then the tears just rolled right over the top of the red rims of his eyes and all the way down his craggy face, some of them getting caught in the cracks and creating little puddles.