Belly Flop (8 page)

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Troy and Brent Malley walking towards me across the playground with mean faces and that was when I had the idea.

‘The Malleys' place,' I said loudly. ‘Doug's gunna appear tonight down by the creek bed at the Malleys' place.'

The other kids stopped and turned and looked at Troy and Brent.

My mouth was dryer than a garden tap, but I made it keep on talking.

‘And when the world hears about it,' I said to Troy and Brent, ‘your place'll probably become a top tourist attraction and you won't have to move.'

Troy and Brent looked at each other.

Then they looked at me.

‘Fair dinkum?' said Troy.

‘Yes,' I said.

The other kids looked at me and then at Troy and Brent again and then at me again.

Brent put his face close to mine.

‘If you're bulling, we'll do you,' he said.

‘I know,' I said.

‘What time?' asked Sean Howe.

I told them about eight.

Hope that's OK with you, Doug.

We're all here, Doug, and the other kids are getting a bit restless.

Troy and Brent reckon if you don't appear in the next minute they're gunna stab me.

It's too dark to see if they've got knives, but even if they haven't there's heaps of other things they could use out here in the scrub. Dry spinifex, for example. They'll find sharp bits easily, specially now the other kids are offering to help them look.

Carla's trying to calm them down.

She's telling them to go easy on me because I'm not a badperson, I'm just a bit of an idiot.

Sometimes I wish she wouldn't help quite so much.

I've already told them you're a bit late cause you're probably trying to decide what to wear.

Anything'll do, Doug.

Robes, a loincloth, overalls, anything.

And if the fireworks and lasers are holding things up, forget about them.

I've got a torch.

I did have a torch.

Troy and Brent have just taken it.

I think they're looking for a snake.

I think they're muttering something about my pants.

I can't hear exactly cause the other kids are sniggering too loudly.

Hurry, Doug, please.

 

Yes.

At last.

You're here.

Thank you.

The others have seen you too.

That's a great idea Doug, just having two beams of light instead of anything too flashy.

They look a bit like headlights coming towards us.

They are headlights.

Jeez, you're clever Doug.

Other angels would have floated down on a shimmering cloud with blinding special effects going off all over the place, but you've turned up in an ordinary old four-wheel drive so as not to scare anyone.

I can't believe it, Doug.

I've waited so long to meet you.

I'm so happy.

The tears are just cause your headlights are dazzling me a bit.

I'm over here.

The one waving.

You're waving too, I can see you now.

Leaning out of the driver's window.

Yelling.

Oh no, you're angry.

I must have dragged you away from something important.

Doug, I'm sorry, but now you're here you'll see that this is important too.

Look, the kids are all gawping.

Now they can see you with their own eyes they know they're being looked after by a real live top-quality guardian angel who'll keep them safe in even the riskiest water-bottling situations and . . .

Hang on a sec, Doug.

That's not you.

I know that voice.

I know that face.

 

 

 

 

I don't get it, Doug.

OK, I know you not turning up tonight must have been because you were flat out.

Guiding a school bus through a burning carwash, something like that.

And I know that not being able to answer my call would have probably made you feel pretty crook.

So sending someone else would have seemed like a good idea at the time.

But, Doug, why Dad?

I guess even angels don't always think straight when they're in the middle of a major rescue with blazing hoses and melting plastic buckets all around them.

If you'd had a moment to gather your thoughts you'd have realised that almost anyone would have been a better choice.

Mum.

Gran.

Mr Bullock with burning banknotes sticking out of his bum.

Anyone but Dad.

I've told you heaps of times how clumsy Dad gets when he's stressed.

One of the things that stresses him most is me being out in the bush at night.

He's got this thing about it ever since Marija Stegnjaaic got bitten by a scorpion at night and her tongue turned black.

This evening when Dad turned up at the Malleys' place he was so stressed he couldn't even drive properly.

He was crunching the gears so much he sounded like Gran eating chocolate crackles. That's why I thought it was you at first, Doug. Angels probably don't get much practice driving four-wheel drives.

The other kids weren't fooled.

They did stare at the four-wheel drive with their mouths open, but only after Dad had driven into a tree.

‘Mitch,' he yelled after he'd checked for dents. ‘Get in the vehicle.'

‘That's not an angel,' said Sean Howe. ‘That's your dad.'

‘You're mental, Mitch Webber,' hissed Cathy Saxby. ‘You should be living in sheltered accommodation.'

I got into the car, but only because I could see Troy and Brent in the headlights running over to the house to tell Mr and Mrs Malley about their only tree.

Dad glared at me, then stuck his head out the window again.

‘The rest of you stay here,' he yelled to the others. ‘Your parents are on the way.'

The other kids looked at each other, then glared at me.

I couldn't hear what they were saying because Dad was revving the engine so much.

I didn't need to.

I'm getting pretty good at lip-reading swear words.

The four-wheel drive shot backwards.

And stopped.

Dad revved the engine even more.

‘You can thank your lucky stars,' he shouted at me while he did it, ‘that Ryan Wicks spilled the beans to his folks about tonight's little fiasco.'

Doug, I reckon that's really low.

Was that the only way you could get Dad out to the Malleys' tonight, by using a little kid like Ryan?

When Danielle finds out he dobbed, she'll kill him.

It was low, but not as low as what happened when Dad finally stopped revving the engine and found we were bogged in sand.

‘Give us a push,' he yelled to the other kids. ‘Please.'

None of them moved.

And when their parents arrived, none of them helped either.

They just looked at me and Dad stuffing sticks under the wheels and turned away.

Some even sniggered.

Even Carla didn't help, but that was probably because she was depending on Danielle Wicks' parents for a lift and she didn't want to offend them.

‘I tried to tell you,' she said as she walked past. ‘Only dopes believe in guardian angels.'

She had to say that cause Danielle was with her.

Me and Dad were there for hours.

Mr and Mrs Malley threatened to have us arrested for trespassing and soil erosion.

Finally we got unbogged.

‘That Fiami girl, she's right about guardian angels,' was all Dad said on the way home.

I didn't say anything.

Carla's right about a lot of stuff but she's not right about that.

She's not, is she Doug?

 

 

 

 

I can't sleep.

My eyes keep watering.

I've been telling myself it's the sand in my undies pricking me, but it's not.

It's what happened tonight.

First at the Malleys' and then just now.

I heard Gran get up and go out to the kitchen so I got up too and went out for a chat.

‘Want a chocolate crackle?' asked Gran.

She gets pains in her legs at night and chocolate helps.

I shook my head.

‘Gran,' I said, ‘am I too old to have a guardian angel?'

Gran looked at me and took a big puff of her cigarette.

I felt myself flinch, and it wasn't because I was scared she'd cough chocolate crackle over me.

It was because I was scared of what her answer would be.

She blew the smoke out and then did something she hasn't done for ages.

Came over and gave me a hug.

‘Jeez Mitch,' she said quietly, ‘if I'd known it was gunna go on this long I'd never have started it.'

I pulled away from her.

‘What do you mean?' I said.

My chest felt all tight, and it wasn't because I'd strained it pushing the car.

Gran took another mouthful and another puff.

‘When I told you that story about Doug,' she said, ‘you weren't even knee-high to a tick.'

My chest suddenly felt like a water bag when people are squeezing it to get the last drops out.

‘Story,' I said. ‘What story?'

‘You'd wake up bawling,' said Gran. ‘When it rained. Used to do that in those days. You were only three and a bit but you had galvanised-iron lungs. Your mum was tuckered out and your dad was hopeless, so I used to come over and tell you a story. About Doug, your guardian angel.'

She reached over and gripped my arm.

Her fingers were really strong for a senior citizen.

‘Mitch,' she said quietly, ‘mate, it was just a story.'

I stared at her and waited for my mouth to stop twitching.

So I could tell her that she'd got it wrong.

That you're not a story, Doug, you're true.

She'd said so herself.

Night after night.

I clenched my teeth and pointed this out to her and started reminding her of some stuff.

How you saved me from the Malleys.

Twice.

Then I realised she couldn't hear a word over the coughing fit she was having.

I slapped her on the back and poured her a beer and I was just about to start again when Mum came in with half-open eyes moaning about the racket and sent us both back to bed.

‘If you wake Dad,' she growled at me, ‘after what you put him through earlier tonight, you're dingo bait.'

‘Sorry,' I mumbled.

Gran grabbed me outside my room.

For a sec, Doug, I thought she was going to tell me she'd been having a lend of me and that you were as real as the yellow stains on her fingers.

She didn't.

She just gave me another hug, which was sweet of her even though it nearly dislocated my ear.

‘We don't need angels, old mate,' she said. ‘We can look after each other, en?'

I looked at her crumpled ancient face and realised what's happened.

It's tragic, eh Doug, when old people start to lose their grip.

I should have spotted it earlier.

Gran's been putting her lipstick on wobbly for some time now.

Jeez, she gave me a scare, but.

Imagine if you were really just someone she'd made up?

If you didn't exist?

I'd be on my own.

Just me and dog poo for my birthday and a dad people won't help even when he's up to his axles.

Just thinking about it's making my eyes go drippy.

I hate it when brains do this.

Get flooded with scary thoughts late at night.

It's OK, Doug.

I know you do really exist.

That's why I'm just sniffling a bit.

If I was really on my own I'd be sobbing much harder than this.

My tears'd probably fill the town pool.

 

 

 

 

Yes!

Yes!

Yes!

Yes!

Yes!

Go Doug!

Yes!!!!!

I deserve to be tied down in the scrub with jam on my big toes and heaps of signposts so the ants can find me.

No, Doug, I do.

It's what I deserve.

For not having more faith in you.

For doubting the double-best guardian angel in the whole universe.

Give us a D!

Give us an O!

Give us a U!

Give us a G!

What does it spell?

GENIUS!

I dunno how you did it, Doug, but thanks. If God ever retires, I reckon you should get the job, no argument.

When the shouting woke me up my heart nearly dived out of my chest.

We don't usually get big crowds in town that early on a Saturday, so for an awful sec I thought it was farmers with guns coming after Dad.

I think Dad did too.

When I came out of my room he was crouched behind the kitchen table.

Though that might just have been because he'd stubbed his toe on the fridge again.

‘Don't worry, Dad,' I said, ‘I'll check it out.'

I peered out the front door ready to duck bullets.

Then I realised the shouting wasn't angry and murderous, it was happy and excited.

When I got down to the main street, half the town was milling around.

There were plenty of farmers, and I could tell they'd just driven in fast because their dogs were still in the back of their utes. A dog won't go onto a bonnet till the engine's cooled a bit.

The farmers weren't loading guns and muttering things about Dad, they were yelling questions at each other and pointing out along the highway.

For a sec I thought it was you, Doug.

Making your appearance a bit late and in slightly the wrong place.

Which would have been fine.

Even geniuses with super powers beyond the reach of mere mortals can't be expected to read maps right every time.

When the cloud of dust everyone was pointing at got a bit closer and I saw it wasn't you, I wasn't too disappointed.

Not when I saw what it was.