Games Over ... Book Three of a Trilogy

Chapter One

It wasn’t too long after we arrived back from Vietnam that we had a phone call from mum’s brother. We’d all settled back into a kind of boring normality and, although it was a relief not to be worrying about other people’s problems any more, I was finding life just a bit colourless.

When the phone rang, I thought it was probably Cheryl, dad’s girlfriend. Since Cheryl’s friend, Kuini Fuimao’ono’s wedding – you know the wedding I’m talking about – the one I’d made such a fool of myself over – I’d been avoiding Cheryl.

She and dad had had a good laugh at my expense. I’d thought they were getting married. I’d been really pissed off at dad, thinking that they were going to marry without telling Evan and me. Evan’s my little brother but that’s about all we have in common. I don’t think it’d even entered his head about dad and Cheryl. He lives on some other planet.

Anyway, back to the phone call. It wasn’t Cheryl. It was Uncle Merv, mum’s brother. He’d been working in Queensland for a couple of years but was moving back to Sydney. Before he moved back, though, he was going to America for a conference and staying for a couple of months at least, to do a bit of sightseeing. Dad had suggested that anything he wanted to store could be left at our place until he got back.

When dad put his mobile phone back on the kitchen bench, he didn’t sound too happy. He was shaking his head, looking completely baffled, as he headed for the kitchen and put on the kettle.

‘What’s up, dad?’ I asked, curious to know what Uncle Merv had said to leave him so worried.

He looked at me in a haunted kind of way and blurted out, ‘Uncle Merv wants us to mind his pets while he’s away. You know how little I know about keeping animals, Barry.’

We’d never been allowed to have a dog or even keep guinea pigs because of dad’s horror of animals. I’d asked mum many times before she died, why dad hated animals, but she wasn’t sure why he acted so strangely.

This, I thought to myself, was something to be worked on. I really wanted to mind Uncle Merv’s pets. It was no use begging dad or nagging him about having the little guys -- if they were little. I’d have to think about the best way to get him to agree to take them. I needed to convince him why we should take these homeless creatures and care for them for a couple of months.

I wasn’t sure whether to tell Evan and ask him what he thought or whether he’d even be interested. I knew it was no use asking Truong for advice. He’d never had a pet either.

‘Wait up, dad,’ I called out as dad headed for his office, ‘What kind of animals are we talking about?’

Dad stopped in mid-stride.

‘Do you know, Barry, I’m not sure. I kind of freaked out when Uncle Merv asked me.’ Well, that made me laugh. I couldn’t imagine what kind of animals my uncle would choose. Or adopt. Or agree to mind for someone else.

That’s the kind of guy my uncle is. He’s got the softest heart on the planet – and he loves animals. He might have a snake, or a duck – or any other kind of animal on earth. It could be an animal native to Australia, like a possum or a kangaroo. Although, come to think about it, that would be illegal. Okay, so we’re talking domestic. A cow? A horse? The mind boggled.

The phone rang again at that point. I thought I’d better answer it. Dad was too out of it. He probably didn’t even hear it ringing.

It was Truong, my mate from school.

‘Truong, how’s it going?’ I asked, smiling to myself. Truong’s a good mate but I don’t think he’ll be able to help me with the animals, whatever they are. He doesn’t like animals – well, I don’t really know if that’s true, but he’s never had much to do with them. His family came as refugees. They probably ate anything that moved in Vietnam, when they were on the run. So, I can’t ask him how I should approach my dad.

‘Good, Barry,’ Truong answered. ‘But I need to talk to you about something I just found out.

‘Yeah, like what?’ I was growing a bit impatient now. Enough of the mystery. What with unidentified pets and now Truong and his stuff, I’d like to get just a bit more information.

‘I can’t talk now, Barry,’ Truong continued. ‘I need to see you. It’s not something I can talk about over the phone.’

I sighed. This was getting just too much to bear. ‘Okay, mate. When do you want to meet?’ I asked.

‘Well, soon. It’s something about animals.’

Whaaaa…t? Unbelievable. Is this coincidence or what? ‘Mate, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll come around to your shop. Okay?’ I answered.

‘No! We can’t talk at the shop; my dad will be there. How about I come to your place?’

Truong sounded a bit edgy, so I quickly agreed.

‘After school, okay?’ I suggested.

Anyway, I had no time for more, on that or any Sunday night. I needed to finish my homework before it got any later.

Who was I kidding? I flung myself onto the bed and before I knew it I was chasing zeds. But wait up! I could hear the heavy tread of many feet in the hall. The door to my room slammed back against the wall and my eyes jerked open. What seemed like hundreds of hooves clattered over the boards as I sat up, stunned by the noise, while the heat of the combined breath of a pack of wild zebra made the room into a sweatbox.

Cool! This was the coolest! Uncle Merv’s pets were zebra. I got up and headed for the shed out the back. I could hear their clattering hooves behind me. I’d need to feed them and get them some water.

This was going to be a nightmare, I suddenly thought. How was I going to keep them safe? How could I keep them healthy? And who would watch them while I was away at school?

As I turned around to give them the bucket of water, I realised they’d all started to tear at the trees in the backyard. Their hooves thudded on the dry grass as they raced around the small backyard, all trying to get at the low branches at the same time, their big white teeth bared as they reached towards the leaves.

I panicked then, not sure whether they should be eating gum leaves. Maybe the eucalyptus would poison them, how would I know? And where was Uncle Merv? Why hadn’t he stayed to tell me what to feed them?

I heard their galloping hooves again as they raced up the side of the house and out onto the road. Frantically, I followed, not knowing what else to do.

As suddenly as it had started, the galloping stopped and there was a tap on my shoulder. I woke with a start. Dad was standing by the side of my bed. I realised the pounding hooves had been dad knocking on my bedroom door.

‘Barry, you’re going to be late for school if you don’t get up right now,’ he said quietly. Then, ‘Barry! What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Dad! You can’t believe how glad I am to see you,’ I answered. ‘I’ve just been dreaming that Uncle Merv’s pets turned out to be a herd of zebra!’

Dad burst out laughing and Evan, walking past my room, joined in. ‘Barry, how were you going to feed them?’ dad asked.

‘That was just the problem, dad. I had no idea how,’ I told him. Evan snorted.

And that’s where this story begins …

*****

Chapter Two

Dad wakes early every morning. Wish he’d tell me how he does it. I have to drag myself from sleep when the alarm goes off. Force myself to get up at the death knock.

After that, it’s a race against the clock to get some cereal, wash and get dressed, make lunch and get to the bus stop. Or get on my bike. There’s usually not enough time to walk.

There’s a crowd at the bus stop this morning. Everyone must be late or later than usual. To be catching the bus. No one looks happy, standing in the rain; water drips off hair and bags.

What’s going on? Something else, apart from rain? I don’t have to wait long to find out. There’s been a lot of doom and gloom lately, what with the earthquake in New Zealand and the tsunami that wiped out part of Japan, but this seems more personal, closer to home.

‘Well,’ I ask, feeling a bit stupid. Everyone seems to know but me. ‘What’s going on? Is somebody going to tell me? Or are you all just going to keep me standing here, waiting in the dark, like a mushroom?’

Several mouths open and close, there’s a general babble of talk but I can’t make out anything concrete. Then Kellie tears across the road, red hair flying.

‘Barry! I’m glad you’re here. It’s Jessica. She just got knocked off her bike. She was riding fast along the cross street when she was clipped by a Beetle.’

‘What are you talking about, Kel? A beetle? How could a beetle knock her off her bike? Did she take a swipe at it or something?’

Barry! Come back to the 21st century. Earth to Barry, earth to Barry! A Beetle! A Vee Dub.’

‘Kel, you’re making less and less sense. What kind of beetle and what’s a Vee Dub?’

‘A car, man.’ This was my friend Johnno, breaking in. ‘It’s a car. A Volkswagen Beetle.’

‘Barry, forget about the car for now. Jessica’s asking for you. Quick, come with me.’ Kellie grabs my hand.

She pulls me back across the road and around the corner. Jessica’s lying on the ground, her face very white. Her legs are doubled up at a strange angle.

‘Jess, how are you feeling? Has someone called an ambulance?’ I ask.

‘There’s one on the way, Barry,’ Kellie breaks in. Jess just nods.

‘My leg’s hurting,’ she says in a breaking voice. ‘Has someone called my mum?’

‘I’ll call her now, Jess,’ I tell her, taking out my mobile phone. Dad’s finally let me have a phone. ‘What’s the number?’

The ambulance and Jess’ mum arrive at the same time. The chance of another accident seems high! The ambulance demands priority. But Jess’s mum thinks she should be first. She tries to force her way forward. It’s her daughter that’s hurt, I guess she’s thinking. But the ambulance wins. Those guys are manic drivers.

At last, with the challenge over, the paramedics rush in to assess Jess’ injuries, while her mum fusses and pats and generally gets in the way.

Jess is carted off to Accident and Emergency. Her leg needs to be set and plastered before she can go home to rest. Her mum follows the ambulance to the hospital.

There’s no sign of the car that clipped her bike. I ask around the crowd. Did anyone get the numberplate of the car? Of course not. Everyone was watching Jess.

The bike’s over by the fence. Jess’s mum obviously wasn’t thinking about bikes when her daughter was in pain. I go over to look at the bike. The frame is navy with white writing. On the back wheel I find some paint – light green paint. It doesn’t seem to belong to the bike. I pick up the bike and lean it against the fence. Jess’s mum can get it later. But in the meantime, I need to take a sample of that paint.

Time to go. I’m late for school already. But I guess Puffy Proudfoot, the Principal, will understand once he hears from Jess’ mum.

Another bus pulls up, so I get in. It doesn’t take long to get to the school. I get out and head for Puffy’s office. But there’s someone in there already.

The office door opens a few minutes later. The weirdest looking woman floats out. Her copper coloured hair reaches down to below her waist in dreadlocks. It’s unbelievably wild. But the clothes she’s wearing are even wilder. Tie-dyed pants with a shapeless, washed out T shirt, way too tight. Her feet are bare. But the weirdest thing of all is that she seems surrounded by a kind of spaced out calm.

She shakes hands with Puffy. When she turns around to leave, I get a jolt. She has the most amazing, luminous green eyes. She wafts away on a cloud of sickly sweet perfume, while I stand staring. Now it’s my turn. Puffy calls impatiently. He gets rid of me pretty quickly, too. Apparently, Jess’ mum has already called, so he knows all about why I’m late.

I head for class.

*****

Chapter Three

Inside the classroom, it’s heads down, bums up, as everyone writes furiously in their English exercise books. Miss Percy, Head of English, is in charge. She’s been at the school for many years. She’s a ‘plain Jane and no nonsense’ kind of teacher. Any work she sets is straightforward, easy to understand and not a trick in sight. But she’s a hard taskmaster with high expectations of her students. With her round, red face and upturned snout, she looks for all the world like a little plump piglet.

She patrols the aisles, clumping up and down on the board floors in her comfort shoes, her great woolly cardigan shedding dog hairs everywhere as she walks.

I see Trudy Trang in the front corner of the room, sitting next to a girl I don’t know. She must be new. She’s not wearing regulation school uniform but, in what she’s wearing, she stands out like a sore thumb. Brilliant purple cotton harem pants, topped with a tie-dyed shirt, tails knotted at the waist and silver gladiator