Dog Gone (18 page)

‘But we weren't, Gran. And we saved Lucky.' I put a spoonful of orange-flavoured cornflakes into my mouth.
Disgusting
. Lucky was sitting next to my chair watching me, with his head on one side, as if he understood what Gran had done.

‘You're making a big deal over nothing, Gran,' added Molly. ‘It wasn't like we even got hurt or anything. You should be happy we're safe. I don't even know why you're mad at us.'

Gran flapped around the kitchen like an angry pelican. ‘And you, Molly, should have known better!' Gran wiped her forehead with her apron and poured some of the orange juice into her tea. ‘A girl your age should have more sense. You should have stopped Ish from getting on that bus in the first place!'

I watched as Gran brought the cup up to her mouth and took a sip of her orange juice-flavoured tea. The expression of amazement and disgust on her face was the best. I let out a huge howl of laughter and sprayed cornflakes all over the table.

Gran looked down at her cup, then over at me. I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. She was about to say something, when Lucky started barking and the doorbell rang. ‘Better get that, Ish. We'll finish this conversation later.'

Lucky's tail was wagging so much that I was expecting to find Mr Ironclad when I opened the door. However, it was Brody, on his crutches, and his dad. In the daylight I was surprised to see he looked a bit like Vinny, except shorter, thinner and cleaner.

‘Hi Ish,' said Brody.

Lucky pushed past me and jumped on Brody, nearly taking out one of his crutches. I stood with my mouth open. Lucky never did that to strangers.

‘We just called in to apologise about the dog,' said Brody's dad. ‘Vinny told me he'd picked up a stray, but it never occurred to me he was yours. I've been walking around with me eyes closed lately.'

‘No worries,' I said. ‘He's safe, that's the main thing.'

‘Sorry you had such a rough time with my brother. We're off to visit him in hospital. Henry's coming, too. Thinks he can get him interested in the bowling club.' Brody's dad nodded towards the road, where Mr Ironclad was sitting in his car.

He waved when he saw me.

Gran appeared at the door and put her arm around me. ‘Won't you come in, Cameron? Hello, Brody. How's the leg? Lucky, get off poor Brody!'

‘It's okay,' said Brody, ‘thanks, Mrs Douglas.'

Lucky was nudging Brody's leg and he was trying not to overbalance.

Brody's dad smiled. ‘No, Maggie, we just called around to say sorry to Ish about his dog. Is Molly okay? Vinny must've given the kids quite a scare. I feel a bit responsible – haven't kept a close enough eye on him lately. Been full of me own troubles. Gave me a bit of a wake-up call, but.'

‘It all takes time, Cam.' Gran looked at Brody like she was going to say something, but changed her mind.

Brody's dad seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I've decided to cut down my work hours. Should get to see a few more of Brody's footy matches now, too. Anyhow, better not keep Henry waiting.'

I watched Brody and his dad climb into Mr Ironclad's car and drive off.

‘Vinny will be all right when he gets on track with his medication,' said Gran. ‘His brother will get it sorted. Vinny's a different person when he's on it.' She paused and looked down her front path. ‘The postman should have been by now. See if there are any letters, will you, love?'

‘Okay.'

‘Oh, and Ish, in all the excitement, I forgot to tell you some news. There was a message on the answering machine last night. Mum's coming home.'

‘Oh, wow! That's great news.' I jumped up and down and did a little dance. ‘When?'

‘Depends on the flight availability, but it could be in the next few days.'

‘So soon? Will she stay here until she's completely better, Gran?'

‘Of course, love. As long as she wants.' Gran went inside and called Lucky in with her.

So much had happened. I looked out at the row of houses along Gran's street. The postman was way off in the distance. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the ghost – about Grandpa. I'd tried to make him appear out of my fishing rod when I'd had a minute on my own. I'd tried calling him to come and talk to me. But it seemed he only appeared when he wanted to – or when I needed him. Just the same, it felt good to have a ghost for a friend.

The front door banged again and Molly stepped out onto the porch. ‘What was all that about? Gran said Mr Ironclad was driving Brody and his dad to the hospital.'

‘Yeah, Mr Ironclad reckons joining the bowling club might give Vinny an interest.'

Molly shrugged.

Something else had been bugging me, but I didn't know if Molly would want to talk about it. ‘Molly?'

‘What?'

‘When you found us in the well –'

‘Yeah, what about it?'

‘We thought we heard crying.'

‘So what?'

‘Was it you?'

‘Might've been.'

‘I just wondered what you were crying about – that's all.'

Molly looked at me and grinned. ‘I thought you'd run away because of me. Then the tarot cards told me you were in danger. I thought it'd be my fault if something happened to you.'

‘Thanks for coming with me to Vinny's, Mol.'

Molly just shrugged again.

‘Hey, did Gran tell you about Mum?'

‘Yeah, great news. I've missed her.' Molly smiled as she said the words.

I liked it when she smiled. ‘Me, too. Can't wait to see her.'

‘Look,' said Molly, ‘there's the postman.'

I looked up to see the postman standing at the letterbox, leaning against his bike. He held out a postcard. ‘Just one today. Looks like it's for you two.'

I walked down and took it from him and showed it to Molly. The picture on the front was the Sydney Harbour Bridge. We turned it over and read:

Hi Molly and Ish,

Sorry, I haven't made enough time for you.

How about we do the bridge climb next holidays?

Love

Dad

The river sparkled
this morning. Little stars of light reflected off the water as it flowed past my log. The winter sun seemed warmer than usual and I could feel it soaking into me as I watched my line, waiting for a bite. Lucky was sniffing around in the bushes. I couldn't believe Mum would be arriving tomorrow. I couldn't wait to see her. There was so much to talk about.

My fishing rod suddenly jolted and I knew I'd caught something big. Lucky saw it too, and climbed up onto the log next to me. ‘What have we got here, boy? Wow, it's a whopper!' The fish was tugging so hard, I thought I'd either get pulled off the log or the line would break. Lucky got excited and started barking, jumping off the log and running around to the water's edge and back onto the log again.

I tried reeling it in, but it was no good. The fish was way too powerful for me. It was zigzagging all over the place. A couple of times it jumped right out of the water and, when I saw it, I nearly died. It was even bigger than the ones I carried back to Gran's that morning I'd seen the ghost!

You'd have to be superhuman to reel this one in. I couldn't figure out why the line hadn't snapped, or the rod for that matter. But this was no ordinary rod. Suddenly, the reel started turning by itself and the fish, thrashing about wildly, zoomed towards me like a speedboat.

‘Whoa!' a voice cried out, behind me.

I turned to see Brody standing there on his crutches. In all the ruckus, I hadn't heard him arrive. ‘Hi, Brody.'

‘That rod really is magic! Whatever you've caught, it's a mutant!'

Lucky ran straight to Brody and nuzzled into his leg. He made the kind of whiny sound that meant
I'm pleased to see you
.

Grandpa's fishing rod was in overdrive. The reel spun so fast it was a blur. It was all I could do to hold onto the handle without dropping it. The fish was arching up out of the water, trying desperately to get away. I tried to reach for Gran's big nappy bucket and the net.

‘Want a hand with that?'

I nodded. ‘Can you push the net and bucket a bit closer?'

Brody nudged the bucket with his crutch so I could reach it from the log. Just as I was about to net the fish, it flung itself up into the air in one last attempt to get away. Then, unbelievably, the fishing rod suddenly whipped around and bopped it on the head! The fish was so stunned it dangled on the line, and I slipped the net underneath and hauled it out of the water and into the bucket. It weighed a tonne.

‘I reckon that's about four times the size of a normal redfin,' said Brody. ‘Unreal.'

We packed up as fast as we could, then headed back along the track with me half carrying, half dragging the bucket. Every now and again, the giant redfin flipped its tail back and forth in a half-hearted effort to escape. But I was determined I wasn't going to let this one go.

Lucky kept us entertained. He was fixated on the fish. If it moved, he barked, as if to let us know it might escape. He drove us crazy by constantly circling the bucket, and at one stage nearly got tangled up in Brody's crutches.

‘You wanna a rest?' asked Brody, when we got to the back gate of the cemetery. ‘That fish must be heavy as.'

‘Good idea,' I said, dumping the bucket down next to a gravestone that was overgrown with weeds.

Brody rested his crutches up against it and sat on a block of stone. ‘Sucks how nobody looks after these graves anymore. Dad wouldn't let my mum's get like this.'

‘Is your mum buried here?' It was a pretty stupid question. There was only one cemetery in Selview.

‘Yep. What about your Grandpa? S'pose he is.'

‘Yeah. His grave's over on the side. Where's your Mum's?'

‘I think it's down that side somewhere, too.'

‘Do you ever go and visit her … like, I mean … look at your mum's grave?'

‘Nup.' Brody reached down and pulled up one of the weeds from the grave he was sitting next to. ‘Dad goes all the time. He takes flowers, but I think it just makes him sadder. I thought about going once.'

‘Yeah?' I didn't know what to say.

‘Do you wanna show me your Grandpa's?'

‘Okay. If you want.'

I passed Brody his crutches and picked up the bucket. Lucky hadn't taken his eyes off the fish the whole time. He trotted alongside it as we headed over to where Grandpa's grave was. It still looked new and shiny compared to the others around it.

‘What's it say?' asked Brody. ‘That fancy writing makes it hard to read.'

‘In my beginning is my end … in my end is my beginning.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?' Brody ran his finger along the gold lettering.

‘It's what was on T.S. Eliot's gravestone. He was a famous poet. My Grandpa was a poet, too. I don't exactly know what it means.

‘Sounds deep.'

‘Wanna find your mum's?'

‘Not sure.'

‘You said it was around here, right?'

‘Yeah. It'll have flowers. Dad came here yesterday, after seeing Vinny.'

I looked at the gravestone a bit further up from Grandpa's. It was newish looking and had a bunch of bright yellow roses in a vase that had mesh on the top. The stone was smooth and black with white writing. I looked at the dates and worked out the person had only been thirty-six when they died.

Then I read the name. ‘Brody, was your mum's name Alison?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Your Mum's grave isn't very far from Grandpa's.'

‘You found it?'

Brody suddenly went pale and for a minute I thought he was going to faint.

I was glad he had his crutches to lean on. I added, ‘It's sort of nice to think your mum and my Grandpa are near each other.'

Brody shuffled over to stand in front of his mum's grave.

Lucky, as if he knew what was going on, gave up guarding the fish, which by now had stopped wriggling. He plonked himself down next to Brody, and leaned on his leg.

For a long time, Brody didn't speak as he gazed at the headstone. He seemed to be reading it over and over.

‘Do you reckon your Grandpa's the ghost?' said Brody, finally.

‘I'm pretty sure he is,' I said. ‘Why?'

‘I hope he says some of his poems to my mum. She liked poetry, too.'

It took ages to walk back. There was no way Brody could climb over Nelly Arnott's fence with his crutches, so we took the long route. I'd convinced him to help me gut the fish. We'd get Gran to cook some for breakfast. Lucky wasn't going to take off with it this time. I'd made sure of that. He was securely on the lead.

We turned the corner into Gran's street, to see a car parked in her driveway and someone standing at the front gate. The person had their arm in a sling.