Tom Jones Saves the World (8 page)

Well,

it's not really a plan.

I just thought that,

seeing Tom's Grandpa

is feeling better,

we should treat him

to a day out.

A picnic.

Me and Tom, and Grandpa Jones

at Murchison Creek.

I'm sure Aunt Ruth

will help me bake a
“get well”
cake,

and Tom and I can catch yabbies.

Grandpa would love that.

Only this time

I won't leave Pacific Palms

through the escape hole.

I'll ask Aunt Ruth and Uncle Robert.

They'll let me go.

It's a picnic.

On Saturday,

for Grandpa Jones.

Cleo has done it again.

Perfect.

I can imagine Grandpa

holding a piece of string

sitting beside the creek

saying

“Come on, you snappy little fellow,

take the meat,

come on,

I'm hungry already!”

We'll sit in the shade

of the willow trees,

the three of us,

and treat Grandpa.

I'll tell Mum

that it's a special picnic

for me and Cleo.

She'll understand.

Ruth:
Isn't it nice of Cleo to take Grandpa Jones

on a picnic with Tom?

Robert:
Yes, dear. I would have liked to go as well.

Ruth:
Oh Robert, stop it.

It's to make Grandpa Jones feel better.

He's been very sick.

Robert:
It's probably the food they serve at that

Nursing Home.

Ruth:
Yes, you're right, they can't cook like me.

Robert:
I could cook better, I reckon.

Ruth:
Well, let's not get carried away, dear.

Robert:
I'm trying to learn, Ruth.

Ruth:
You're very trying, my dear.

Robert:
I saw the cake you baked with Cleo.

Apple and Sultana—her favourite.

Ruth:
It was a special treat for her, dear.

Robert:
I might try and cook one next time.

I'm ready to bake cakes now, Ruth.

Ruth:
But is the world ready to eat them, Robert?

Dad has been acting very strange lately.

Well, more than usual.

He doesn't talk the same.

He speaks normally.

Sometimes

he almost sounds like Grandpa.

Weird.

He cracks jokes.

He calls me Son, not Thomas.

He calls Mum, “Babs”, or “darling”!

Last night,

he even invited me into his study

and showed me his new bottle tops!

I acted interested.

I told him the Chinese ones

were amazing!

I kept saying how considerate Grandpa was

to send him all these bottle tops,

and, would you believe, Dad agreed!

I wasn't serious about

the Dead Parent Wishes.

I was

dreaming!

Joking.

Fooling around.

Not right in the head.

Just kidding.

Okay.

Saturday,

bright sunshine,

a gentle breeze,

and a basket full of food.

Cleo, Grandpa, and me

hop into a taxi

and say, “Murchison Creek, please.”

The taxi-driver smiles and says,

“This is a car, mate,

not a boat!

But I'll take you to Brady Lane

and you can walk from there, okay?”

I can smell the food

in Cleo's basket.

I can't wait.

“Come on, you snappy little fellow.

The water's boiling.

Me and Tiger and the Queen of Pacific Palms

are waiting for a feast.

Come on, take the bite—

Gotcha!”

Grandpa jerks the line

and the yabby lands on the bank.

Grandpa's laugh booms across the field.

Me and Cleo smile to each other

and watch Grandpa, on the blanket,

having the time of his life.

The three of us

can't eat another bite.

Aunt Ruth's cake,

three slices each.

We lie back

and look up at the deep blue sky,

through the willows.

Then,

I hear music,

strange wailing music,

coming from across the field,

getting nearer.

Cleo and Grandpa

can hear it too.

We stand

to see where it's coming from,

but the grass is too high.

I'm sure it's getting closer.

I can hear the beat of the drums,

and the wail of the singer.

The three of us spin around

when we hear a twig snap

behind us,

and it's

Barbara

dressed in her belly dancer costume!

She's dancing with her hands arched

high above her head,

swinging to the rhythm of the music

coming from behind the trees.

Mum shimmies forward

and does a swirling turn near Grandpa.

Grandpa's smiling so much

I'm worried he'll have another stroke.

He takes Mum's hand

and she twirls around him.

Me and Cleo

start clapping along to the music,

still getting louder,

as Mum and Grandpa belly dance

along

the banks of Murchison Creek

on this perfect Saturday.

The music fades to a stop

as Mum and Grandpa hug.

I can't help myself—

I take Cleo's hand

and give her a kiss,

a big, wet, sloppy, disgusting,

but kind of nice kiss on her lips

to thank her for another brilliant idea,

then I go to Mum and hug her—

it's sounds soppy I know but

I reckon this is the best day of my life

and

as I'm hugging Mum,

I look over her shoulder

and see

Arnold

coming out from behind the trees

holding a ghetto-blaster.

Dad is the music!

Dad walks towards us,

puts the ghetto-blaster down

on the picnic blanket

and holds out his hand

to Grandpa

“Hello, Dad, it's nice to see you,”

he says.

Grandpa takes Dad's hand

and says

“Hello, Tiger,

bloody good to see you too!”

They stand there shaking hands

and Dad wraps his arm

around Grandpa's shoulder

and gives him a hug,

a hug I know he's been

waiting to give Grandpa

for twenty years.

First published 2002 by University of Queensland Press

Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia

Reprinted 2003

© Steven Herrick 2002

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Herrick, Steven.

Tom Jones saves the world.

I. Title.

For children.

A823.3

ISBN 0 7022 3336 6

Booking Manager: Young Australia Workshop

332 Victoria St

Darlinghurst NSW 2010

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