Keep It Down! (6 page)

George bowled. Sunil moved forward down the pitch but his bat didn't connect with the ball. A split second later, Tay had stumped him.

‘Out, Deep!' Davey yelled.

Sunil stopped in his tracks, turned and gave the new wicket-keeper a little clap. ‘You're good, Tui, really good,' he said, nodding. He looked over at Davey. ‘Warner, you have a turn. But watch out for Tay!'

Davey pulled Kaboom out of his backpack. He wandered over and took his position at the crease.
Here we go
, he thought.
She'll start singing that awful song any minute
.

But there was silence. Davey glanced behind him. Tay was in position, but her cheeks were bulging like a bullfrog's.

‘How's it going?' Davey said as a test.

Tay nodded and made a loud sucking noise.

Davey smiled. ‘So you like those Whopper Chomps?'

Tay
nodded again and gave him the thumbs-up. She grinned. Her mouth was chock-full of lollies.

She wouldn't be doing any singing for a while, Davey decided. It solved that problem, at least temporarily. Now Davey and his friends had to work on making sure he and Kevin played in Friday's match.

‘Ready, Warner?' George was standing at his mark, waiting to bowl.

Davey tapped Kaboom on the ground. ‘You bet!'

For the first time all week, Davey got to bat in peace, and managed to pull off some nice shots. But soon the school bell sounded and the cricketers had to pull up stumps.

‘So, any ideas about how we can get Warner and
McNab back in the team for tomorrow?' Sunil asked as they strolled across the playground to class.

‘Yeah, I know what I'm going to do.' Davey glanced at his friend – he knew Sunil wouldn't like his plan.

‘What?'

‘I'm going to beg for mercy,' Davey said. ‘I've already asked Ms Maro to put in a good word for me. Now I'm going to offer to polish Mudge's lawn bowls and help out Mrs Trundle.'

Sunil frowned. ‘That's a lame idea, Warner. Not very imaginative.'

‘Maybe, but it's all I could come up with.'

Sunil looked disappointed. ‘Okay, give it a try.' He
glanced around at the others. ‘What about McNab? Any thoughts?'

‘I've got a few.' George looked confident. ‘Kevin could let off the fire alarm at the town hall so they have to evacuate.'

Sunil shook his head. ‘But he wouldn't get back quickly enough.'

‘I could sneak off early, before we leave to catch the bus, and then turn up to the match in disguise.' Judging from his face, even Kevin knew it wouldn't work.

Sunil looked unimpressed. ‘Next!'

‘Okay, I've got one.' George sounded confident.

‘Yeah? What?' Everyone was all ears.

George was about to explain when they rounded the corner of the toilet block and bumped into Mr Mudge.

‘Warner, Ms Maro tells me you've offered to do a few jobs around the school today in return for permission to play in the match against Batfish Beach tomorrow.' Judging by the colour of his ears, for once the teacher wasn't irate.

Davey nodded. ‘Yes, Sir. Anything you like.'

George and Kevin gave him a pat on the back.

‘Excellent.' Mr Mudge crossed his arms. ‘So, at recess, you can polish the lawn bowls. At lunch, report to Mrs Trundle. There are quite a few things that need doing around her office. I'm sure she'll find a use for you.'

‘No problem, Mr Mudge.'

Mr Mudge waved them past. ‘Now, straight to class.'

They set off again, moving quickly this time, with Mudge bringing up the rear.

‘Good one, Warner,' Sunil whispered in Davey's ear as they approached the classroom. ‘What a crazy idea! Who'd have thought you'd pull it off?'

Davey rolled his eyes. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deep.'

‘Now, we've just got to get McNab out of his dancing thing,' Sunil muttered. ‘Wonder what Pepi's other idea was?'

Davey spent all of recess in the sports storeroom polishing the school's lawn bowls.

Mr Mudge, who loved lawn bowls almost as much as he hated cricket, was on hand to supervise. ‘Like this, Warner,' he said, carefully picking up one of the bowls as
if it was a brand-new puppy. He dipped a rag into a bucket of warm soapy water. ‘Gently rub it in circles. Then use another rag to dry.'

For once, Davey made a real effort to do exactly what his teacher asked.

‘Once it's dry, you give it a quick spray with the polish, and then another good rub until it shines. Got it?'

Davey nodded and eyed the six sets of bowls that Mr Mudge had lined up. It would take all recess and lunchtime to get it done.

Mr Mudge seemed to read his mind. ‘These will keep you busy for a while. So you'll have to help Mrs Trundle
after
school.'

Davey nodded. Whatever Mrs Trundle had lined up for him, he figured it would be worth
it if it meant he could play in the match the next day.

But at the end of the school day, when he was standing in Mrs Trundle's office, his optimism evaporated.

‘I have just the job for a boy like you.' Mrs Trundle's eye twitched as she led him towards the big cupboard in the corner.

She pulled open the cupboard doors to reveal the shelves within. They were stacked with all kinds of stationery – scissors and glue, rulers and erasers, protractors and pins, boxes of bulldog clips.

The centre shelves were stacked closely together. Now Mrs Trundle pulled one of them towards her, like a drawer. Davey leaned forward to see what was on it.

Paperclips. Thousands of them, all in little compartments.

Davey had heard the legend of Mrs Trundle's paperclip collection, but no one had ever actually seen it so Davey had never believed the stories were true. And yet here he was, staring at the collection, perhaps the first person in the world (other than Mrs Trundle) to ever set eyes on it.

‘It's the biggest paperclip collection in the southern hemisphere,' Mrs Trundle said proudly. There are four shelves like this one. But, as you can see, they need some re-sorting. That's your job.'

Davey took a closer look. Even he had to admit that the paperclips were in some disarray, with big ones jumbled in with small ones, and blue ones with orange ones.

Mrs Trundle glanced up at the big clock on the wall. ‘I'll be here until half past five. You have until then to get these in order.' She smiled. ‘You might receive a merit award for this, David. Now, chop chop!'

By the time Davey climbed on his bike to ride home, he could hardly see from all the sizing and sorting and picking and positioning. When he reached his house, Sunil, George and Kevin were hitting a ball around on the footpath out the front.

Sunil stopped in the middle of his bowling run-up. ‘How'd you go?'

‘Done! I'm in!' Davey raised his fist in victory. ‘Batfish, here I come!'

‘Good one!' Sunil gave him a slap on the back.

George put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a Whopper Chomp. ‘Here, Warner, a little reward.'

Davey popped the lolly into his mouth.

‘We've got some other good news,' Sunil said. ‘Pepi has come up with a good plan to get McNab out of dancing.'

‘Yeah? What?'

‘Well, I've been reading about tarantulas,' George said. ‘Apparently, if one bites you it makes you dance like crazy and wave your arms about.'

‘Mmm. And?' Davey couldn't see what any of this had to do with Kevin, but he was keen to find out.

‘So the idea is, Kevin pretends he's been bitten by a tarantula and does a crazy dance, waving his arms around a lot. He won't be able to do the ballroom dancing because you have to hold your partner the whole time.'

Davey made a cross-eyed face. ‘Doesn't that mean he'll miss the cricket too?'

‘No. He just does it long enough to miss going to the dancing thing, and then gets better in time to play cricket. It's brilliant!' Sunil's eyes were shining with excitement.

‘Wouldn't it be easier to pretend to be sick?' Davey asked.

‘Nah, Mum won't fall for that,' Kevin said. ‘But spiders! She hates them, so it'll freak her out. And Dad's away, so he won't know.'

‘Of course, there aren't actually
any tarantulas in Australia,' Sunil said knowledgeably. ‘And it's true that a tarantula bite doesn't actually make you dance so much as twitch – and only
sometimes
. But, you've got to admit, it's brilliant, a no-brainer. Much better than yours, Warner.' Sunil grinned.

‘Yeah, it's good,' Davey said. ‘Do you need a big spider? Because I know where one lives. I might be able to catch it, so long as you don't hurt it.'

Kevin put his hand on his heart. ‘Promise.'

That night after dinner, Davey passed up a game of backyard cricket with his brother, Steve. ‘Nah, I'm too tired,' he said, rubbing his eyes.

Davey's mum looked at him as if he'd turned into an alien. ‘You? Tired? What've you been up to?'

‘Nothing . . . But I need a jar with a lid. There's a spider on my wall and I need to catch him to put him outside.'

After a lot of rattling around in the back of a cupboard, Davey's mum found an old Vegemite jar. ‘Careful not to drop it,' she said. ‘And make sure you let him out as far away as possible.
I hate spiders
.'

Armed with the jar and broom, Davey and his dog Max headed for Davey's bedroom. The spider Davey was after often hid behind the poster of Ricky Ponting that hung on his bedroom wall.

After punching a few holes in the jar lid with a pen nib, Davey climbed onto his bed and carefully tugged on the corner of the poster. ‘Whoops,' he whispered. The sticky stuff on the back of the corner had come off the wall, bringing a big chunk of paint with it. ‘Don't tell Mum,' he hissed at Max.

Davey peered behind the poster, but it was too dark to see. ‘Max, get the torch!' He pointed at the bedside table.

Max wagged his tail and barked before dashing out through the door. Davey heard the sound of his claws skittering down the hallway.

‘Idiot pooch,' he muttered as he reached down and grabbed the penlight. He switched it on and shone it up behind Ricky. In the upper corner, he spotted a dark shadowy form. ‘Gotcha!'

Except he hadn't, not yet. He grabbed the broom and gently poked the end up behind the poster. Nothing happened. He shone the light up again – the spidery form hadn't moved.

Max ran in and barked.

‘We'll have to take Ricky down.' Davey gently pulled the other bottom corner of the poster off the wall. ‘Ouch.' Another big chunk of wall and paint came off. He reached up and tugged carefully at a top corner – the one he was fairly sure didn't hide a giant spider. He looked down at Max, who was standing on the bed next to him, his two front paws up on the wall.