Read Jamie Brown Is NOT Rich Online
Authors: Adam Wallace
Tags: #Children's Books, #humor, #Children's eBooks, #Literature & Fiction
Jamie Brown Is NOT Rich (11 page)
5. Getting
my head stuck up an elephant’s butt.
Okay, I know, there’s a pretty low chance of any of those things happening, but that’s why they’re scary … the element of surprise!
Anyway, I rode past all the fancy mansions, and then there was one that was a little bit different. It was smaller, and less fancy, less show-offy, I guess. It was still perfectly neat and well-looked-after, but it was just different.
I wondered who lived there.
I got a glimpse of a face at the window, but then the curtains closed. I wasn’t totally convinced it wasn’t a ghost monkey, so I rode home, fast.
I would find out who lived there soon enough.
CHAPTER 13
SCHOOL
DAY 2
School was not good! Mum had sewn a patch over the hole in my trousers, which the Nasty Jeffersons thought was hilarious.
Fair call.
Then, just before lunch, Mr Jefferson read out the names of kids who would represent the school at Academic Challenge, and
MY NAME GOT CALLED OUT!
Nasty Jefferson and his mates, too. I didn’t even know what Academic Challenge was!
I asked Harmison at lunch time. He said it was this big competition where teams of four from different schools go on a quiz show. They battle to the final, and the winning team gets a trophy and credit for the school and there were huge crowds and TV and interviews and it was in three weeks time!
Oh, this was bad. This was bad times infinity squared plus 3 times 8 minus 7.
How did my name get on the stupid team anyway?
I had my suspicions.
CHAPTER 14
CROWKAY
After lunch, we played croquet for sports.
First off, you say croquet like crowkay … okay? I thought you said it crockett, but you don’t … it’s crowkay.
So that’s how I’ll write it from now on, so it’s easier. Crowkay, just like you say it.
Crowkay’s kind of weird. Mr Jefferson said you have to be quiet all the time. Always quiet, except for polite applause after a nice shot. I wanted the old days of mini-golf with the triplets, where it would be whoop whoop and raa raa and buckity buckity and animal noises and
FUN
!
Snootyville Grammar is so rich it has its own crowkay field … and tennis courts … and swimming pool … and golf course … and rowing river … and toilets … well, I guess most schools have toilets. Hovel Central didn’t though, we had to run 3kms to the public toilets at the shops and if we didn’t make it, well, behind a tree would have to do!
Not surprisingly, I had never played crowkay before. I could see all these hoops stuck in the ground and coloured balls and sledgehammer-looking things.
I was with Harmison and the other British Bulldogs crew.
‘How do you play?’ I asked them.
‘Well,’ Harmison said. ‘The object of crowkay is to use a mallet to knock your ball through the hoops in the correct order, and finally tap your ball into the centre peg. You may even knock your opponent’s ball out of the way.’
I laughed and forgot Mr Jefferson’s rules.
Like I said, I forget things pretty quickly.
‘Sounds like
FUN!
Watch this!’
I grabbed a crowkay sledgehammer, walked up to a ball, yelled out ‘
Buckity Buckity!
’ wound up, and whacked the ball towards a hoop. It went straight through then smashed into Mr Jefferson’s right ankle.
He yelped and grabbed it.
‘
BROWN!’
he yelled, hopping around. I got in trouble, and was only allowed to watch for a while.
Then I was back in the game.
I didn’t mean to break the rules again, but the sitting around and the being quiet and the blah blah blah boring had made me edgy.
I smiled at Harmison.
‘This game would be heaps more fun if we played it like it was mini-golf back in the Hovel. Check it out.’
Nasty Jefferson was lining up his shot. He did like a billion practise swings. I walked over to him.
‘Jolly good show, old chap,’ I said. ‘Best of luck thwacking your balls, what ho the diddly oh.’
He glared at me.
‘Quiet, peasant, and watch how we do things in Snootyville.’
I smiled and stepped away, hands behind my back. He pulled back his sledgehammer. He paused. I stepped behind him and went from innocent …
… to a putting-off SUPERSTAR!
Nasty Jefferson squealed, jumped, swung the sledgehammer, the ball flew sideways and smashed into Mr Jefferson’s
left
ankle!
He yelped and grabbed it.
‘
BROWN!
’
I was finally having fun though, and couldn’t stop. I grabbed Nasty Jefferson’s sledgehammer, swung it around my head and whacked a ball through a hoop. My team cheered. Then I whacked Nasty Jefferson’s ball away. They cheered again. I yelled out for them to join me, and they did …
It was so awesome. We were whacking balls and yelling buckity buckity and Mr Jefferson was yelling for us to stop and Nasty Jefferson was sitting on the ground crying out for us to be gentlemen and all the girls except for Dakota were hiding behind a wall.
There were balls flying everywhere. Mr Jefferson got hit on the ankles 29 times.
Finally, we gently tapped our balls into the centre peg and stopped, out of breath. I ran past my teammates, holding my hand up for high fives, but none of them knew what I was doing, so we just shook hands.
Baby steps …
Then Mr Jefferson limped over.
He looked angry.
Okay, he looked the same as always, but he was always angry!
‘
BROWN!
’ he yelled.
Uh-oh. Could be trouble.
‘Look at this court!’
He pointed. I looked. He glared. I was worried.
‘You and your team sit over there. You are banned from this court. Leave now. I will see you, as the ringleader, in detention after school.’
He pointed again to where we should sit. I looked again. He glared again. We went and sat down.
I took a deep breath.
‘I’m sorry, you guys,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to make things fun. I keep getting you in trouble.’
Harmison laughed.
‘Haw haw, don’t be sorry, Brown,’ he said. ‘For starters, you are the only one receiving detention, and for seconds, if British Bulldogs was fun, this was fun times twenty! ’
‘Is that a lot?’ I asked. My brain couldn’t be bothered doing maths. He patted my shoulder.
‘You are going to be a lamb to the slaughter at Academic Challenge, old chap. Perhaps you should lay low and follow our rules for a time. However, when you are willing to show us this mini-golf of yours, whatever that may be, we are aching to play it.’
The others agreed. Harmison had made me feel better again. He was a good guy.
*This isn’t what he actually said, but he may as well have.
