Weird Page 13

  ‘What, dying?’

  ‘No, you baboonomoron, when you snogged?’

  ‘Um, sloshy.’

  ‘Sloshy?’

  ‘Yes, sloshy. Isn’t it like that when you snog Charlie?’

  ‘No. It’s like… being in heaven.’

  ‘Evie, you’ve never been to heaven. They wouldn’t let you in for a start.’

  ‘They would. You’re just envious because my snogs are heavenly and yours are only sloshy.’

  ‘I like sloshy. Besides, you are forgetting an important detail in this full and frank discussion we are having, Evie.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like Josh did something Charlie never did. He saved my life. Twice. Nurr.’

  It’s great having Evie for a best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without her…

  Report for Friday by

  Josh Cameron and Felicity

  Foster-Thompson

  ‘What are we going to say?’ asked Fizz. ‘We can’t possibly say it all in four hundred words. We’ll need more like forty thousand.’

  ‘Leave out some bits,’ Josh suggested.

  They were at Fizz’s house, sitting in her bedroom among the accumulated junk.

  ‘Where do these go?’ asked Josh, making a collection of CDs.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Tidying. What’s this?’

  ‘A shawl.’

  ‘Has something been eating it?’ Josh queried.

  ‘It’s meant to be like that. It’s a radical shawl.’

  ‘I didn’t know there was such a thing.’

  Fizz snatched it from him. ‘Excuse me. I made that. It took me hours. You may use highly technical drawings to build rockets but I use my imagination to knit radical… radical knitted things. Now stop tidying and being so motherly.’

  ‘I was only trying to help.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Tell me what to write.’

  ‘Try starting with “Friday”.’

  Friday

  Today was our last day at Marigolds. In the morning I gave Mrs Ogweyo a toy black-and-white cat, which she liked. She calls it Freddie. She used to have a cat called Freddie and she misses him. Mrs Ogweyo is a bit mad but I like her. I have dyed my hair black. Josh said it looked nice. I like him too.

  ‘You can’t put that! What’s that got to do with work experience?’

  ‘I can’t think of anything else to say and, besides, I feel like it. I want to tell everyone.’ Fizz smiled at Josh. ‘Anyhow, I’m fed up with doing reports. Shall I put something about the tunnel?’

  ‘What is there to tell? It never existed and we haven’t mentioned it so far. Leave it out.’

  We went to the shops for lunch. Josh had a prawn mayonnaise sandwich and spilled some down his front. He is such a dirty beast.

  ‘You made me choke,’ accused Josh.

  ‘Excuses, excuses.’ Fizz carried on.

  I had a tuna sandwich and didn’t spill anything because I am a neat eater.

  Fizz stopped for a moment. ‘Do you think neat-eaters are related to ant-eaters?’

  ‘Maybe. They’re both meat-eaters,’ said Josh.

  ‘And they might eat feet, which would make them neat-feet-meat-eaters.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ growled Josh.

  After that I went home to fetch my swimming costume because Matron had asked me to help out at the physiotherapy pool in the afternoon.

  It was very boring and cold in the pool. All I did was fetch floats and watch three old ladies jiggling about in the water. Then the fire alarm went off and we had to get out of the building.

  As I left the pool I fell over and banged my head and landed in the water. I would have drowned but I was saved by Josh, who is tall, dark and handsome and he does the kiss of life, which is what he did on me, twice, so I didn’t die.

  ‘You can’t put “tall, dark and handsome”, it’s daft.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s silly.’

  Josh says I shouldn’t say he’s tall, dark and handsome, but he is, so I don’t see why I shouldn’t. I was taken to hospital and so was Josh. He wasn’t injured, he was just wet. (I don’t mean jelly-for-brain wet, I mean wetly wet from saving me.) All the residents had been rescued and it turned out that there wasn’t a fire at all. It was a false alarm.

  After that we all went home, had tea and went to bed.

  The End.

  ‘That is never four hundred words,’ said Josh.

  ‘I know, but I can’t be bothered to do any more. I’ll tell you what, the hospital gave a copy of the report sheet on me banging my head. We can add that and it should make up the difference.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘So, we’re all done.’

  Josh pulled her closer. ‘It’s been a weird week. I didn’t think Marigolds would be like it was. Nobody was what I thought they were going to be.’

  ‘What? Like the wrinklies?’

  ‘Yes. Even when they were being weird it kind of made sense – Mrs Ogweyo, for example.’

  ‘It wasn’t only the wrinklies. The Major turned out all right too. He knew right from the start and was trying to keep it all under control. Hey, I was just getting comfortable. Where are you going?’

  Josh fetched his school bag. ‘I brought you a present.’

  ‘Really?’ Fizz’s eyes lit up and she bit her lip. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Guess.’

  ‘Something sparkly?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Something smelly?’

  ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘Is it cuddly?’

  ‘You’d better open it and see.’ He passed her a small, plain box.

  ‘Nice wrapping paper,’ said Fizz.

  ‘Wrapping paper wasn’t an option,’ Josh explained. ‘Go on, open it.’

  Fizz slowly lifted the lid. Her face crinkled and she grinned back at Josh. ‘It’s just what I’ve always wanted,’ she murmured. ‘A chameleon. Milligan.’

  Josh

  I’m a hero. I don’t feel like one. But then I’ve no idea what heroes feel like. I couldn’t believe that Fizz was OK and it was because of me. Mum’s really proud of me. But none of it is anything like what I feel for Fizz. It’s astonishing. I didn’t know I had those sorts of feelings. Where did they come from? I’ve known Fizz for three years but never felt anything like this for her. That annoying itch has vanished.

  I don’t know why I thought Lauren was more beautiful. Maybe it was those wretched glasses. I’d never noticed what a lumpy chin Lauren has. And knobbly knees. Not like Fizz at all. I reckon Fizz could be a model if she wanted.

  This evening Fizz came round for the launch. Mum got to the door before I was halfway down the stairs. She had a goose tucked under one arm.

  ‘Fizz! What an exciting life you lead! Josh told me everything.’

  ‘Everything?’ Fizz threw me a panicky glance but I shook my head. I’d told Mum about the rescue but left out the bit in the ambulance and the snog in the car when nobody was looking.

  Mum’s eyes widened. ‘Hmm, evidently he left out some bits, but that’s a mother’s lot and judging by your radiant look I can guess the rest. You look lovely, and that scarf is gorgeous.’

  ‘One of the old ladies gave it to me. I love it. I wanted to ask you something. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘You haven’t asked yet. How can I?’

  ‘It’s just that, well, um, I’ve been writing poetry for a while and Josh told me it was something you did and I thought maybe we could talk about it some time?’

  ‘That would be good, yes, let’s do that. Here’s Josh, loaded down. Big launch today, I gather. Good luck.’

  Fizz and I took Escape IV up to the park.

  ‘I didn’t know you wrote poetry.’

  ‘There’s lots of things you don’t know about me,’ laughed Fizz.

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘That’s for you to find out.’

  ‘Sounds like fun. What kind of poems?’

  ‘De
pends on my mood.’

  ‘Tell me one.’

  ‘OK, but you mustn’t laugh. It’s called “My Sister” and it’s a one-line haiku.’

  ‘Is there such a thing?’

  ‘Yes, because I wrote one, OK? This how it goes: Lauren – I hate you.’

  That just about killed me. I don’t mean I laughed. The opposite. I understood. I squeezed Fizz’s hand and she asked me if I thought it was too short.

  ‘No. It’s exactly right.’

  We reached the park and as we passed through the gates I warned Fizz that the rocket might not work. After all, none of the others had.

  ‘It might all go wrong.’

  ‘It might all go right,’ she answered. ‘Will it ever come back?’

  ‘It’s got a parachute. It should drift back down and land somewhere.’

  ‘Then what do you do?’

  ‘Go and fetch it. Maybe do it again.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Fizz sounded disappointed. I think I knew why, but it was hard for me to let go. We found a flat spot. The park was empty by now. It was beginning to get dark and all the dog-walkers and suchlike had gone home. We set up the launch pad and placed Escape IV on the base. I checked the controls, set the fins, made sure everything was wired correctly and charged up.

  ‘Ready,’ I said nervously.

  Fizz looked up at the sky. Glittering pinpricks of light were beginning to appear in the east. ‘Wait until all the stars are out,’ she whispered. We lay on the ground, staring up at the fast-darkening sky, watching more and more stars appear. We lay with our heads side by side, my feet pointing north and hers south.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘There are just so many of them.’

  ‘There’s the Milky Way,’ I told her. ‘And that really bright star down there, that’s part of Scorpio. Sagittarius is next to it, then Capricorn.’

  ‘Where’s The Slug?’

  ‘The Slug?’

  ‘I thought there was a constellation called The Slug,’ she murmured.

  ‘You’re mad,’ I said.

  ‘It’s OK to be mad,’ she said, her voice turning soft. ‘I want you to tell me about the stars every night.’

  ‘There’s lots to tell.’

  ‘Good,’ she giggled, hauling me to my feet. ‘Come on. It’s now or never for Escape IV.’

  I did yet another check. I uncoiled the wires from the launch pad to my control box and we moved out of range. ‘Are you ready?’

  Fizz stepped behind me and put her arms round my waist. ‘Ready,’ she answered.

  ‘You can do the countdown,’ I told her and I felt her give a tiny curtsy behind me.

  ‘I’m honoured, kind sir. Five, four, three, two, one, lift off!’

  Escape IV took off like a rocket. Couldn’t resist saying that! But it did. It didn’t fall to bits. It didn’t barbecue itself or explode. It did what it was supposed to do and just went up, and up, and up, until we could no longer see it, just the vast expanse of heavenly darkness vibrating with a billion distant suns. Space in all its glory.

  ‘How high will it reach?’ asked Fizz.

  ‘A kilometre, maybe more.’

  ‘Cosmic!’

  ‘Almost,’ I murmured.

  Then there were just stars and silence, Fizz and me. We held hands, staring up at the heavens. Eventually I let out a long breath. ‘That’s that, then. A successful launch.’

  ‘Do we go and look for it now?’

  I swallowed. ‘No.’

  ‘But don’t you want to use it again? You spent so much time building it.’

  ‘It worked. I’ve achieved what I set out to do. It was magic seeing it disappear into the stars like that. You were right, Fizz. I’m glad we waited until it was quite dark. I don’t want to see my rocket grounded. I want to remember it speeding to the stars, up there for ever.’

  ‘You are such a romantic.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘You are. Will you make another one?’

  ‘No. I’m done with rockets. I think I might build my own telescope next, a proper astronomical one.’

  ‘I know why you want to do that,’ said Fizz.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You want to spy on me, don’t you?’

  I laughed. ‘Of course.’ She lifted her face to me and the moonlight turned her brace into a tiny constellation. What was happening to me?!

  We walked back gazing at the sky, talking, talking, talking. I felt wonderful. I could almost feel Escape IV still up there, racing towards the stars. My future. Fizz reached for my hand as we walked.

  ‘Do you think my boobs are small?’

  ‘I haven’t seen them,’ I answered and she tugged on my hand, hard.

  ‘No, I mean it. Do you think they’re small?’

  ‘Not if I use my new telescope. It’s going to be pretty powerful.’ She whacked me in the stomach with her bag.

  ‘I said I mean it! Do you think my boobs are small?’

  ‘Fizz, for heaven’s sake!’

  ‘Well answer me, then. I think they’re minuscule to the point of inversion and I want Mum and Dad to let me have a boob job and they are being so prehistoric about it and they might listen to you because you saved my life and that means you are Mr Important and you can ask for anything you like and I thought you could go up to them and say listen here, Mr and Mrs Foster-Thompson, your daughter Felicity needs a bit of help with her boobs so I think you should just cough up or else I might not bother to save her life ever again so tread carefully, unless of course you don’t think they are too small. So what do you reckon? Do you think my boobs are too small?’

  Note from the Author

  I found two useful websites while writing this book.

  I am ashamed to say that until a few months before I began writing this book in late 2005 I was quite ignorant of the extraordinary story of the ATA. This website tells all: motherflieshurricanes.com/historyATA.htm

  Readers may also like to know that there is in fact a thirteenth sign of the Zodiac – Ophiacus, the Serpent Bearer. Try: Summer Stargazing, Astronomical Animals.

  Here’s the link: gorp.away.com/gorp/eclectic/nightsky/star_summer2.htm