The Dog that Dumped on my Doona (10 page)

Like it was maybe about a young girl whose body was invaded by a green alien slime that made her do vicious things to her poor innocent younger brother. That part would have been made for Rose.

Turned out it wasn't that. According to Mum (Rose would never talk to me about it, not that I'd ever ask her) it was a love story, and Rose was the leading romantic role. I remembered pitying the poor guy who'd have to get romantic with Rose. If he did anything to annoy her, he'd find his head down the nearest dunny before he could blink.

‘Do I have to go?' I said, but I already knew the answer.

‘Of course you do,' said Dad. ‘You must support your sister.'

I wouldn't have supported her if her legs got chopped off, but I kept that to myself.

‘So we are having an early dinner and getting to the school in plenty of time. The play starts at … seven, is it, Rose? So we will need to get there by six-thirty. Rose needs to be backstage by then.'

‘Don't forget I've got a rehearsal just after school, Daddy,' said Rose. ‘So I won't be back until after five. I'll just have time for a quick bite before I have to get back again.'

‘Don't worry, sweetie,' said Mum. ‘We'll get you there on time. Are you nervous?'

Rose smiled. Her lips parted, at least. I was reminded of two raw sausages on a chipped dinner plate, but everyone else seemed dazzled.

‘A bit, Mummy,' she admitted.

‘And is that because of Josh?' asked Mum. I was horrified to note that she had put on a teasing voice. I was even more horrified to see Rose blush.

‘Mummy!' said Rose, her face lowered to the cereal bowl. I nearly gagged.

‘Who's Josh?' asked Dad.

‘The leading man in the play,' said Mum. ‘The one who gets romantic with Rose's character. And, unless I'm much mistaken, the boy who Rose here has just the teeniest, weeniest crush on.'

‘Mummy!' squealed Rose again. This conversation had started very badly and it was getting worse by the moment. If it continued, I'd be blowing cardboard chunks in low-fat milk across the kitchen table. So I excused myself and got my school bag together.

A small part of my mind did note, however, that although Rose squealed, she didn't deny she had the hots for this Josh guy.
Poor sod
, I thought. It's good to know that no matter how crappy your own life is, there's always someone who is worse off than you.

I had an emergency meeting with Dylan at recess.

‘Come on, Dyl,' I said. ‘We need a plan. And quickly.'

‘Like what?'

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘If I knew what the plan was I wouldn't be asking you, would I?'

He opened up another can of cola. Without Dylan, some soft drink company would be forced to close in a week.

‘No,' he said. ‘I mean, like what sort of plan
could
we come up with? God isn't here. He's at your sister's school. We can't do anything until we get there, see what's happening. So, we'll go along when school is over and suss it out.'

I had to admit he had a point. There wasn't much else to do. That didn't mean I stopped worrying, of course. Time, as Blacky was so fond of telling me, was running out.

Rose's school finished half an hour after ours, so we were outside the gates just as the kids were leaving.

It seemed like there were thousands of them. And big! Some of these students looked like they were forty-five and professional weightlifters. I'd probably be going to this school next year and it was a scary thought. I'd feel like a turkey in a gathering of vultures. Dylan, Blacky and I kept out of the way. It would've been easy to get trampled underfoot and end up as a sticky smear on the footpath.

Blacky had insisted on coming with us. As he put it, there was a greater chance of success if someone with brains was there. I'd be
really
glad to see the back of him.

‘What do we do now?' I said when the flood out of the gates had become a trickle.

‘We walk in,' said Dylan.

‘Maybe your mate isn't as dumb as he looks,' chipped in Blacky.

I was going to point out that that was impossible, but didn't bother. My mouth had gone dry and I was nervous. No matter how much time I'd spent thinking about the problem during lessons, I couldn't see any other way. We were going to have to steal God.

‘What?' I said. ‘Just wander round the school until we find him?'

‘When we get close,' said Blacky, ‘I'll know where he is.

I can talk to him, remember? I'll keep calling. He'll answer eventually.'

I passed this on to Dylan.

‘Come on, then,' he said. ‘No reason to hang around.'

There wasn't, but hanging around was just what I was in the mood for. Dylan, however, moved with purpose through the school gates, Blacky trotting at his heels. There was no choice. I followed them. Even though most of the students had gone home, we still met a few as we travelled across the yard. I kept expecting them to challenge us, but it was like we were invisible. Soon we found ourselves at the main entrance.

Rose's school is a rambling place, but luckily there is only one main building. About six floors, mind you, but at least we knew that God would have to be there somewhere. We skirted the reception desk. Some old woman with hair that could scour a pan and a potato for a nose was talking on the phone. She didn't glance up. So far so good.

There were doors and corridors and stairways everywhere. I had no idea where to start our search.

‘We'll do the ground floor first and then take each storey in turn,' said Dylan. His eyes were shining. This was action. Dylan came into his own where action was involved. I was happy for him to lead. Then I got an idea.

‘Hey, Blacky,' I said. ‘What are we gonna do if someone spots us? I mean, me and Dylan are just kids and they might think we're meeting a brother or sister or something. But they won't be pleased to see a dog.'

Blacky stopped and sniffed at his bum.

‘Not a problem,' he said. ‘I can smell people coming. And if we do run into someone, I am a master of disguise.'

I let this go. Master of disguise? I had a sudden image of the Principal coming round the corner and Blacky morphing himself into the Head of English. Or a filing cabinet. But the Principal didn't appear. In fact, we saw no one at all on the ground floor, so we took the stairs up to the first floor. Some cleaners were working there and we had to hide in an alcove at the top of the stairs until they had gone into classrooms. Then we moved quickly along the corridor. Blacky, a few paces in the lead, stopped halfway along and cocked his head to one side.

‘What is it?' I said.

‘He's on the next level. Directly above us,' he replied.

I was relieved and scared at the same time. Relieved that the search was nearing its end. Scared because I was now getting to the pointy end of the whole business.

‘Let's do it,' I said.

We found another flight of stairs and crept up them. Luck had been on our side so far. I was praying that would continue. When we got to the top it seemed it would. The corridor was deserted. Keeping hunched over below the classroom windows, just in case there were teachers in there, we moved as fast as we dared. Blacky's nose was twitching and his short, stumpy tail was wagging. We were close.

Blacky trotted up to a closed classroom door and sniffed at the gap between door and floor. He turned his pink-rimmed eyes towards me.

‘In here,' he said.

It was a Science classroom. A large sign said so. I supposed that wasn't too surprising. It was unlikely, after all, that God would be in a Maths classroom. Or even a classroom for Religious Instruction. I moved towards the door.

This classroom was different from most of the others. There were no windows onto the corridor, for one thing, and the door itself was solid. This had advantages and disadvantages. Stealing God would be easier since no one could look in and spot us doing the foul deed. But there was no way we could tell if there was already someone in there. It probably wouldn't matter, I told myself. The door was bound to be locked.

I tried the knob, fully expecting it not to turn. But the door opened. I stuck my head round. No one there. Just rows of benches with sinks and those weird gas tap things. There were posters on the walls and strange-looking devices in the corners. Boxes with glass fronts and control panels. On the far side of the room, against windows that looked over the rest of the school, was a long bench with glass tanks ranged along its surface. And right up the front of the classroom was a brand new one.

Blacky trotted immediately to the new tank, raised himself on his hind legs, propped his front on the side of the bench, and whined. Dylan and I followed. The tank had a sign on the front. I read it.

PYGMY BEARDED DRAGON, it said in big letters. And underneath was a whole load of information about its habits. A small map of Australia, with portions highlighted in red, showed where the dragon could be found in the wild. I didn't pay it much attention. Beyond the sign, crouched in the corner behind a large rock, was God. He was perfectly still, head to one side, like he was listening to Blacky's whining. I suppose he was. Dylan and I kept our faces up against the glass.

‘God thanks you,' said Blacky. ‘He was beginning to think he would die in there. But no more time can be lost. We need to get him out, now.'

My hands trembled a little as I touched the lid on the top of the tank. I was so glad the mission was nearly over. But I was also scared by what I was doing. This was stealing and I had never stolen anything in my life. How could I do this?

‘He doesn't belong to anyone other than himself,' said Blacky. Either he was reading my thoughts or he was reading my face and trembling hands. ‘This isn't theft. This is liberation.'

I guess he was right, but it still didn't make me feel any better. My heart was beating fast. Maybe I should have got Dylan to do it. He, after all, has no fear. But I knew, like a cold certainty in my gut, that this was something I had to do myself. I had one hand on the glass handle when Blacky gave a low growl.

‘Someone's coming,' he said and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I dropped my hand to my side and spun to face the door, just as it opened. There was no time to hide. Probably no point either.

We had been caught. Not exactly red-handed.

But definitely pink-handed.

The guy in the doorway wasn't much bigger than me and his face was thin, like someone had whittled it with a sharp knife. My legs started shaking.

‘Hello,' he said. ‘What are you doing here?'

I tried to answer, but my brain had seized up. A low rumbling sound came from my throat, but that was it. His eyes hardened as he looked us over.

‘You are not students at this school,' he added. ‘What are you doing here?'

His repetition of the question crushed my faint hope he'd forget to push the point. I looked around for inspiration and noted Blacky had gone. I checked out the classroom quickly, probably in a manner that looked really guilty. That's okay. I
was
guilty. But there was no sign of him. Maybe he had adopted the disguise of a stool. Or a bell jar.

I tried to talk again, but the low rumbling was all I could manage. A thief
and
a moron. I was doing myself all sorts of favours.

‘Hi, my name is Dylan. Pleased to meet you.'

Dylan stepped forward and offered his hand to the teacher. The guy shook it, but you got the impression it was an automatic response. His eyes still looked suspicious.

‘Sorry we are in your classroom without permission,' continued Dylan. ‘But we are here to meet Marcus's sister, Rose. Oh, sorry. This is Marcus.'

Like the teacher, I seemed to be on automatic pilot. I stepped forward and shook him by the hand. The way this was going he'd invite us back to his house for a cup of tea and a piece of chocolate cake. Just before he called the police.