Dog Gone (11 page)

‘How did I spoil everything?' I asked.

‘With you hanging around, I'd just be in the way.'

‘No, you wouldn't,' I said, ‘Gran's house is always full of people. She's used to it. No one's ever in the way.'

Brody didn't reply.

I wasn't sure what else to say. It was true – Gran's house was always buzzing with people. There was always someone dropping in. Gran seemed to be the one who people came to if they needed some advice or cheering up. She was good at that sort of thing. Though I'd noticed from time to time these holidays, she'd suddenly go quiet, as if her mind was off somewhere else. Thinking about Grandpa, I suppose. Poor Gran.

‘I like spending time at your Gran's,' said Brody suddenly. ‘It gives me a break from Dad. Since Mum died, he's always in a bad mood and always going off at me for stuff. Like, just before she died, Mum got me a puppy. Well, after about three weeks, Dad got Uncle Vinny to come and take it away to his farm, because it kept piddling on the carpet. He said I could go and visit, but he never took me. Then I heard that Uncle Vinny'd shot it, because it killed some of his chooks. Uncle Vinny's real mean, especially when he gets sick.'

‘What's wrong with him?'

‘He imagines things. Hears voices and stuff. He thinks people are out to get him. He shot his cat because it jumped up on a shelf, once, and knocked over a china Elvis Presley. Reckoned it was a burglar, but he didn't know what he was doing. I said he probably thought it was a cat burglar, but Dad didn't even laugh. He told me it was bad enough having a brother who everybody thought was crazy. Didn't need me making fun of him as well. Dad's drop-dead boring these days.' Brody stopped talking and did some more quiet moaning.

I looked up. Not much daylight left.

‘I've seen posters up in the milk bar. That's your dog, isn't it?' Brody was trying to get comfortable, but couldn't.

‘Yeah, his name's Lucky.'

‘How'd he go missing? Did you leave the gate open or somethin'?'

‘Nah. It's a long story, but Lucky took off with a fish I caught – an enormous one – and didn't come back.'

‘That's pretty weird. Dogs are meant to be good at finding their way back, aren't they?'

‘We were chasing him, trying to get the fish back, and after he rounded the corner at the bottom of Gran's street, he disappeared.'

‘That
is
weird.'

‘I reckon. A lot of weird things happened that day.'

‘Like what?'

‘Like I saw the ghost, for starters. At the cemetery.'

‘No kiddin'. Unreal.' Brody was rocking back and forth in pain. ‘Ow, my leg feels like it's got a fire inside it.'

I changed the subject. ‘I wish the ghost would come and get us out of here.' Going over how Lucky had gone missing was starting to make the well walls close in. I closed my eyes and wished as hard as I could for Grandpa – the ghost – whoever – to come and rescue us.

‘If we ever get out of here,' Brody said, ‘I'll help you look for Lucky. I know how it feels to lose a dog.'

‘Thanks, Brody.'

‘Any marks or colourings on Lucky that make him stand out?'

‘His tail has a white tip on it, like a ring-tailed possum, and he has one brown ear and one white one.'

‘I'll help you get your dog back. He's probably living with some lonely old lady who never goes out and hasn't seen your posters. I bet she's spoilin' him rotten. He's got too good a deal to think of you.' Brody twisted to get more comfortable. ‘He'll come home when she carks it.'

‘Thanks – that's really encouraging,' I said, rolling my eyes. But maybe there was some truth in Brody's words. What if Lucky really had been kidnapped by old Nelly Arnott?

I bet she wouldn't be feeding him biscuits.

I wished my watch
had luminous dials. I was hungry, my back was aching and it was freezing. I was so tired that my eye sockets felt like they were lined with straw. I was frightened – it was so dark you couldn't even count your fingers in front of your nose. And I was wet – peed my pants because there was no room to manoeuvre anything in such a cramped space.

Brody had fallen asleep. He was breathing loudly, practically snoring. I didn't know how he could sleep – half sitting – in such a squishy place. The old mattress, wedged end-up in the well, was impossible to get comfortable on. It also stank of tomcat piddle. The smell was so awful I wanted to throw up.

It had started to rain around dusk and hadn't stopped. I'd been sitting, listening to trickles down the walls of the well, like little waterfalls.

I was too afraid to sleep. And I couldn't stop wondering if Lucky was chained up at Nelly Arnott's house, although I'd never heard any barking from over that way. Some of the poems I'd been writing about Lucky kept whirring around in my head. I kept picturing the way he listened to me when I told him something; watching me as if he understood everything I was saying.

I remembered I'd stuffed my journal inside my jacket before I'd climbed the peppercorn tree. Miraculously, it was still there. I managed to fish my pen out of my pants pocket and open the journal to what I hoped was a fresh page. Then I wrote. It's weird writing when you can't see what you're doing. You can't check to see what you're up to or read over your work. I felt sorry for people who are blind.

Still Day 10 - Together

In the hammock with Lucky

swinging

I tell him funny stories

he's looking at me

twisting his head

from side to side

one ear up

and one down

my dog's funnier than

my best joke

I'd also been thinking about Mum. Here I was, stranded at the bottom of a well, and she was stranded in a hospital somewhere in Mongolia, recovering from an accident. I didn't even know how badly she'd been hurt. I felt close to her. It was as if she knew I was in trouble. I could hear her voice in my head, telling me not to worry, that we'd both be all right.

While Brody slept, I had a lot of time to think, in between listening to his breathing and the water coming down the sides of the well. To pass the time, I decided to make a list of all the things I wanted to do if I got out of here alive:

1. Go to Nelly Arnott's house to see if Lucky is there.

2. Ring Dad to ask if I can live with him for a while (I miss him like crazy and need a break from my bossy sister).

3. Go on the internet and Mr Ironclad's house to find out more about Mongolia.

4. Ask Gran to get Brody around to help her with some jobs, so he feels important.

5. Get Gran to show me how to make chocolate fudge balls.

Brody suddenly spoke, making me jump. ‘Ish, you awake?'

‘Yep.'

‘What do you reckon the time is?'

‘Dunno. Middle of the night. How's your leg?'

‘You don't want to know. I'm freeee-zing,' said Brody, his teeth chattering.

He moaned again, and I wished I could do something to help him.

‘No one's going to find us down here, are they? We're gonna die, for sure.' Brody took in a deep breath, then yelled, ‘Help! Is anyone there? Heeeeelp!'

‘We'll yell out again in the morning,' I said, trying to sound confident. ‘Someone is bound to hear us in the morning.' I had to think of something to keep our minds off how cold and uncomfortable we were, and off Brody's painful leg.

‘Was your mum nice?' I asked.

‘Yeah, she was.'

‘What was she like?'

‘I thought she was pretty, but she used to worry that she was fat. She wasn't
that
fat.'

‘You must miss her a lot,' I said, trying to picture a female version of Brody.

‘It's not fair. I have to pack my own lunch and Dad doesn't even remember which days I have footy training.'

‘Did your Mum ever make you laugh?' I asked.

‘Yeah,' said Brody. His teeth were chattering and I could hear him rubbing his arms to keep warm. ‘She'd cackle at anything – except when she got really sick with the cancer.'

This was tricky. I wanted to keep Brody's spirits up. ‘My mum makes me laugh, too. She has me in fits sometimes. I remember coming home from school one day and I could hear music from the other end of our street. I went around to the back door and when I passed the kitchen window, I saw her. She was dancing around the island bench, twirling, kicking her legs up in the air and waving her arms all around. It was a hoot. She was totally into it.'

‘She sounds crazy.'

‘Yeah. She is crazy sometimes. She saw me at the window, danced her way to the door and let me in. She grabbed both my hands and practically yanked me off my feet into the middle of the kitchen floor. I managed to ditch my bag and kick it over by the fridge then she let go of one hand to do a twirl. I'll never forget that day. The music was so loud it nearly burst my eardrums. Mum swung me round and round and we did a sort of tango move, like you see on TV. We laughed so much, my sides ached and I could hardly stand up.'

‘She sounds
really
crazy. No wonder you're such a freak.'

I wasn't sure whether Brody was joking or being serious.

‘What about your dad – do you miss him?' asked Brody.

‘Yeah, heaps. It sucks – him living in Sydney.' I'd thought about Dad while Brody had been asleep. I wondered if he was happy living in Sydney and whether he missed me as much as I missed him. I wondered whether he'd like me to come and live with him. I could make up for all the things I'd done wrong when he lived with Mum and Molly and me. Maybe I could even get him to come and live back with us in Melbourne.

Then I thought of Brody's dad. ‘I bet your dad misses your mum a lot,' I said.

Brody let out a sigh. ‘Sometimes Dad gets up in the middle of the night and sits at the kitchen table, staring out the window. I've seen him. I had to pee one night, and there he was – staring into the night. I don't know what he stares at. I've seen him, just sitting for hours, staring out at nothing.'

I felt sorry for Brody and his dad. It must be awful to have one of your parents die. Even though I didn't see my dad as often as I wanted, at least he was still alive.

‘Mum gave me this joke book,' I said, trying to remember some of the jokes. They'd help us pass the time and maybe cheer us both up. ‘What happens if you cross an elephant with a bird?'

‘What?'

‘You get a lot of broken telephone wires.'

‘Ha, ha …
not
.'

‘What about this one – what is a cat's favourite song?'

‘Dunno. What?'

‘Three blind mice.'

‘These jokes are the worst ones in the book, right? Does it have any that are actually
funny
?'

‘Okay, you'll like this one. What's evil and ugly and goes up and down all day?'

‘This'd better be good.'

‘A witch stuck in a lift.'

Brody groaned. ‘What did I do to deserve being stuck down a well with you?'

I remembered the rod. ‘Where's my fishing rod?' I asked, giving Brody a little nudge.

‘Yes – that's it!' exclaimed Brody, making me jump. ‘Of course. Why didn't I think of that?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, if that rod's got powers, maybe we can use it like a kind of magic wand,' said Brody. ‘Except I don't know where it is. You couldn't see a cow's fart down here, even if it was on fire.'

‘Didn't you say you saw it when the ghost appeared? What happened to it after that?'

‘I dunno,' said Brody, ‘I was too spooked to keep my eye on it. Then you almost landed on my head.'

‘Well, we can feel around for it,' I said.

‘Yeah – and maybe we'll find a few of your spider mates while we're at it,' added Brody.

I could have punched him. I'd forgotten about the spiders till now.

But his idea was worth the risk. We felt around for ages, wedging our hands down between the mattress and the cold, rough walls. Our luck was out, though, and I felt my heart sink to the bottom of the well, where Grandpa's fishing rod was probably lying, wedged in between all the junk.