My Brother's Famous Bottom Takes Off! Page 3

  Cheese and Tomato were scrabbling round the floor, hunting for Maltesers that might have rolled their way.

  I fell asleep. I think most people did. I didn’t wake up until the plane gave a bouncy bump as it landed. NEW YORK! We’d arrived!

  We had to queue for a while to get through customs and when Dad showed his passport the customs officer looked at him rather suspiciously.

  ‘Do I know you?’ he asked, with a face carved from stone.

  Dad shook his head. ‘No, not me, but maybe you know my youngest son. His bottom is famous.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘My son has a famous bottom. Loads of people have seen it. Millions and millions.’

  ‘Are you kidding me? Are you some kind of nut?’ The customs man was getting angry. It was time for Mum to come to the rescue.

  ‘Sorry, officer. Please ignore my husband, but he’s just so proud of our son. We all are.’ Mum went on to explain about the WhoTube competition and the officer’s face lit up.

  ‘Yeah! I read about that. Of course, there was a photo of you guys. THAT’S where I saw that ugly mug!’ He pointed at Dad and then called across to the other officers checking passports.

  ‘Hey! Guess who I’ve got here? The little guy with the famous bottom! You know, the one going into space? He’s here. This is him, right in front of me!’

  There was chaos. Everyone crowded round, wanting to catch a glimpse of Cheese. One of the other customs men looked at Cheese’s passport and pulled a face.

  ‘Hey, this picture ain’t nothin’ like him. It’s his face! He should have his famous bottom in his passport!’

  Everyone fell about laughing and we were practically swept through customs control and out to the front of the airport.

  ‘There you go, little fella, and the rest of you folks. Have a good time now and welcome to America!’

  We were left staring at the taxi rank and the long, long queue of people waiting for rides. We had just started walking to the end of the queue when a man looking like an escaped bear wearing a peaked cap came running up.

  ‘You de WhoToob family?’ he asked in a deep, husky, Italian voice. ‘I tort so. You come with me now. Car’s round de corner.’

  We followed him and there it was. Actually, it looked like about five cars stuck together. It was a stretch limo, a pure white stretch limo.

  ‘I feel like the Queen,’ sighed Mum with a smile.

  ‘You are a queen – my queen,’ said Dad.

  ‘One, two, three – YUURRRK!’ went the twins as Mum gave Dad a kiss.

  The driver picked up ALL our bags in his massive arms and shoved them in the boot, or rather the ‘trunk’, as they call it in the States. The trunk looked big enough to put a whole house in, and the garden too.

  Getting into the limo was like going into a cave. There were vast seats and cupboards everywhere filled with drinks and refreshments. Music was playing and there were twinkly lights that kept changing colour and a big TV screen. There was even a chandelier in the middle!

  Dad had to have a play with everything and he kept pressing buttons to see what would happen. Suddenly the roof slid back and we could see the skyscrapers towering over us like dinosaurs. Then the seat we were on started to slide forward until it became a bed. It was all SO COOL!

  I was just getting used to everything when we stopped at our hotel. A doorman with a top hat stepped forward and opened the car door for us. ‘Welcome! I understand you are the WhoTube family?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dad. ‘This is Mrs WhoTube and these are the WhoTube children, and I’m Ugly Mug apparently.’

  The doorman gave Dad a tolerant smile and showed us through to the desk where we got booked in and taken up to our room. Did I say room? I meant rooms. There were six! There was a main bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, a living space with views across the city (because we were on the twenty-second floor!), a bathroom and a dressing room, where we put all our clothes.

  We just wandered round and round, going, ‘Ooh, look at this!’ and ‘Wow!’ and ‘Amazing!’ Cheese and Tomato raced from one room to another, jumping on anything that appeared the least bit bouncy, including Dad and myself. There was a great swing chair hanging on a chain from the ceiling in the living area. The beds all looked big enough for about ten people. The windows were floor to ceiling. The TV screen took up an entire wall. As for the bath, that was more like a swimming pool. I was surprised there wasn’t a diving board at one end.

  Finally, we sat down in the armchairs or lounged on the beds and gradually things got quieter and quieter until we realized that Cheese and Tomato had fallen asleep, cuddled together in the swing chair. Dad was slumped forward with his head between his knees, making little snuffling, snoring noises and muttering to himself. ‘Am I ugly? No I’m not. I’m not ugly. No. No. Snnnnrrrrrr! NO! Snnnnrrrrrrr!’

  Mum sighed. ‘Peace at last,’ she murmured as she closed her eyes. And we all fell asleep. Our first time in New York with all its wonderful sights and sounds at our feet and we were fast asleep! Ahhhh!

  6. Beware of Dipplypokuses!

  We’ve been exploring. New York is amazing! We went up the Empire State Building, right to the top! The one-hundred-and-second floor! We had to queue for hours to actually get on the viewing platform. Well, it seemed like hours. Cheese and Tomato were almost crying with boredom.

  ‘It’ll be worth it when we get there,’ Mum told us, but Dad was getting more and more fed up and he kept making daft suggestions.

  ‘I know what to do. I could say I’m allergic to people and I have to be on the observation deck all alone.’

  ‘What about us, Dad?’ I asked.

  ‘OK, OK. How about I tell the officials I’ve only got five minutes left to live and I must see the view from the top of the building before I die?’

  ‘Nobody will believe you,’ Mum told him. ‘Just keep quiet and wait, like everyone else. It’ll be worth it when we get there.’

  ‘You’ve already said that,’ grumbled Dad.

  ‘That’s because it’s true. Look, I’ve still got a couple of bagels in my bag. Eat one of those. Anything to stop you blathering on.’

  So Dad ate a bagel and he stopped blathering on for about twenty seconds. Then he started again.

  ‘It’ll be Christmas before we get to the front of this queue.’

  ‘It’ll be –’ began Mum.

  ‘– worth it when we get there,’ chanted Dad. ‘Let me have the other bagel. At least it’s something to do.’

  ‘I gave it to Cheese and Tomato to share,’ said Mum.

  ‘NOOOOO!’ wailed Dad. ‘The last bagel’s been taken from me!’

  The woman standing in front of us turned round, gave my father a startled glance and then smiled at Mum. ‘Did you say Cheese and Tomato? The famous Cheese and Tomato twins? The one with the famous bottom that’s going into space?’

  Mum nodded.

  ‘Oh my,’ said the woman. ‘I can’t believe it. Do you mind if I take some pics, maybe a selfie with me and your twins?’

  ‘That’s fine,’ said Mum.

  ‘Just a moment,’ Dad butted in. ‘Let’s see, how about if you take photos we are allowed to go to the front of the queue?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ron.’ Mum turned back to the woman, who was getting her phone out of her bag. ‘Please ignore my husband. I think his brain has been badly affected by the great height we’re at.’

  The woman laughed. ‘Oh, I’ve read all about your husband.’

  Dad certainly perked up when he heard that. ‘Really? Where did you read it? What did it say?’

  ‘It was in some magazine last week. It was about the WhoTube competition so it was mostly about Cheese, of course, but the article was also asking what kind of a father would call his children Cheese and Tomato.’

  Dad raised his eyebrows a fraction. ‘Oh? And did they have an answer to that?’

  ‘They did,’ said the woman. ‘But it wasn’t very flattering.’

  Da
d thought for a few moments. ‘The thing is, you see, you Americans have a very different sense of humour to us British. You don’t understand ours at all.’

  ‘I am British,’ the woman said. ‘And the magazine was too.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Dad went quiet after that and the woman took some pictures of herself with Cheese and Tomato. Then she took some of herself with the twins and me and Mum. She asked Dad if he’d like to be in the picture too, but Dad waved her phone aside.

  ‘I’m not very photogenic,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve got an ugly mug. I’ll probably break your mobile.’

  ‘He’s sulking,’ Mum told the woman. ‘Pay no attention.’

  At last the queue moved forward and we were able to go out on to the observation deck.

  Oh boy! It was amazing. We could see the whole of New York spread out below us.

  ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ said Mum. ‘You can see everything. I said it would be worth the wait.’

  ‘You did indeed,’ agreed Dad. ‘About fifty times. Anyhow, I’ll tell you something you can’t see. King Kong. Where’s King Kong? I thought he was supposed to be clinging to the top of the Empire State Building?’

  ‘Very funny, Dad.’

  ‘You can see as far as ’Stralia!’ Tomato shouted.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Mum. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Cos I can see a garoo.’

  ‘Goodness, I didn’t know there were kangaroos in New York,’ Mum told her.

  ‘Not New York! It’s in ’Stralia!’

  ‘Oh right. Well, you’ve certainly got amazing eyesight if you can see as far as Australia,’ Mum laughed.

  ‘And I can see a … a … a dipplypokus!’ shouted Cheese, not wanting to be outdone.

  ‘A dipplypokus? That’s scary.’

  ‘It’s eating the cars!’

  ‘Really? I thought diplodocuses only ate vegetables.’ Mum gave Cheese a questioning look and he frowned.

  ‘This dipplypokus eats cars,’ he said firmly, and to make sure Mum understood how serious this was he added, ‘and people.’

  ‘In that case I’m glad we’re safe at the top of this very high building where diplodocuses can’t reach us.’

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Cheese and he went back to staring out over the city.

  We stayed up there for ages. There was so much to see. Eventually, Dad suggested we should head off to Central Park and have a picnic, so we did. The park is huge and it’s got lots of ponds and lakes. We went to the biggest one called The Lake because you can hire rowing boats there.

  Dad and I took it in turns to row. It was hard work, especially when Dad started pretending that all the other boats on the Lake were enemy ships.

  ‘Load the cannon!’ He yelled to the twins and they pretended to stuff cannonballs into a cannon.

  ‘Fire! BOOOOOOOM!

  SPERLASSHH!

  Missed! Quick, load up again. Fire! BOOOOOM! KERRBANNGGG! Direct hit! Well done, twins! Now we’ll get that one over there. Load up!’

  I think the Battle of Central Park Lake lasted about half an hour, by which time Dad reckoned he’d sunk almost everyone else in sight and was now Ruler of the Waves. Then he decided we were explorers heading into unknown territory, sailing up a river infested with alligators, piranhas, anacondas and giant aquatic spiders.

  Dad stood at the bow of our boat, pretending he was holding a telescope. ‘Keep rowing, Nicky. Don’t make those oars splash or you’ll disturb the piranha fish and they’ll leap out of the water and bite your nose.’

  ‘I don’t think piranhas can leap, Dad,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Obviously, you have never met the Giant Jumping Piranhas of Central Park Lake. Look! There’s one now!’

  Dad pointed at a small piece of bread floating on the surface that the ducks had managed to miss. Cheese and Tomato immediately screamed and scrambled to the other side of the boat, making it rock crazily, and before we knew it Dad had lost his balance.

  ‘Whoa – Nooooo!’

  SPER-LASHHHH!

  Dad floundered about, spurting water from his mouth.

  ‘Daddy! Hurry! The Jumping Bananas will bite you!!’ Cheese yelled anxiously, waving his arms.

  Dad splashed towards us and held on to the side of the boat. Slowly, he hauled himself back and lay in the bottom in a big pool of water. A large piece of waterweed was clinging to his shoulder.

  ‘How do you do it?’ asked Mum. ‘I am speechless, Ron. Every time we go somewhere you manage to fall into something or bang your head or break something. It’s extraordinary.’

  ‘Maybe he should be in the Big Book of World Records for having more accidents than anyone else,’ I suggested.

  Mum laughed. ‘He’ll certainly get in the Big Book of Records for being the soggiest dad in the world.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ said Dad. ‘Very funny, I don’t think.’

  We rowed back to shore and ate our picnic on the grass, while Dad lay in a patch of sun and tried to dry off.

  After that we wandered around until Dad had more or less stopped squelching and Mum decided it was all right to go back to the hotel. It was our last night. The next day we would be setting off for Florida and the Kennedy Space Center. Whoopee!

  7. Hellyboppers

  We flew from New York to Orlando, Florida. Mum was wondering if we’d be collected from the airport by a super-long limo again.

  ‘I liked that,’ she said.

  But there was no limo. Instead, we were met by a short, slim woman wearing a smart orangey uniform with a cluster of badges on both sleeves and across her chest. They made her look quite important.

  ‘Hi, I’m Commander Anders from NASA and I’m your guide for the time you’re with us. Please call me Cassie. I’m going to take you to your hotel to settle in. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine and then the fun starts. You’ve got a couple of pretty full days ahead of you at Kennedy Space Center. Any questions, just ask.’

  Dad put his hand in the air as if he was a schoolboy. ‘Yes, I have one. I’ve always wanted to know what happens if you turn an octopus inside out?’

  Commander Anders looked at Dad, her eyes like laser beams, while Mum turned red with embarrassment, I bit my lip and even the twins fell silent.

  ‘If you turn an octopus inside out?’ repeated Cassie. Dad nodded.

  ‘It dies.’

  ‘Right,’ muttered Dad.

  Cassie paused before saying, ‘Questions like that – you know, octopuses and so on – well, they’re a bit out of my frame of reference, sir. I’m an astronaut, OK? So if you have any more queries of that nature then I suggest you ask your kids.’

  Mum burst out laughing and had to clap a hand over her mouth as people turned to look. ‘Oh, Ron! She’s really got you taped! Bravo, Cassie!’

  ‘There’s a joker in every pack, ma’am,’ said the commander.

  The two women exchanged smiles and Mum told Cassie that she looked super fit and far too young to be a space commander.

  ‘I’m forty-two, ma’am,’ Cassie said proudly. ‘I train hard. You have to be more than fit to be an astronaut. I swim two miles every day before breakfast. I do push-ups and pull-ups until I wish I didn’t have any arms at all. I lift weights, cycle, row – everything.’

  ‘And it shows,’ Mum beamed. ‘You must be so proud of what you’ve achieved.’

  ‘I sure am, ma’am.’

  I wanted to know what all Cassie’s badges were for so she went through some of them. ‘This one here is my ranking badge, showing that I’m a commander. That means most of the guys in lower ranks have to take off their hats when I walk past – I’m cool with that! These four badges are for the missions I’ve been on. I flew one shuttle mission before they stopped those and I’ve been up to the International Space Station three times. This one here is my Astronaut Wings. Now I’ve a question for you guys. Which one of you has the famous bottom?’ She threw a glance at Dad. ‘I take it it’s not you, sir?’

  Now it was Dad’s turn to go
red and he bloomed like a rose, coughed and shook his head vigorously.

  ‘Thank the Lord for that!’ grinned Cassie and fixed her eyes on the twins. ‘It’s one of you fellas, isn’t it? But which one?’

  ‘ME!’ cried Cheese.

  Cassie glanced up at Mum. ‘What is it about guys and their bottoms? Oh well, lots to do so we’d best get a move on. This way, folks. Fall in line, quick time!’

  I liked Cassie. She was a straightforward, no-messing-about kind of person. No wonder Dad had gone unusually quiet in her presence.

  Cassie led us out of the airport where we piled into an SUV along with our luggage. She drove off at high speed, not joining the highway, but arcing round the edge of the airport and racing across open ground towards a large hangar. Standing outside was a helicopter.

  My heart began beating faster. I was thinking, No, no. Surely we’re not going in a helicopter!

  ‘Any of you guys been in a chopper before?’ Cassie asked, half turning in her seat.

  ‘No!’ we chorused.

  ‘Then you’re in for a treat. It’s a great view.’

  ‘Is it safe?’ asked Dad.

  I was stunned. My dad was asking if it was safe? My dad! The man who’d brought an alligator into the house! The man who’d actually wrestled the very same alligator in the local pond!

  ‘Well, sir,’ said Cassie thoughtfully, ‘it’s a lot safer than going into outer space. I’m game, if you are.’

  Some people came trotting out of the hangar, doffing their hats at Cassie. They took our luggage and loaded it into the chopper. We climbed inside and strapped ourselves in. I could feel my heart beating. I was full of nerves and excitement, as if tiny little people were running round and round my insides, shouting nonsense at each other. I looked at Mum and Dad and I could see they were feeling the same. Mum gave me a half-smile and held up her hands to show me she had crossed her fingers. Dad was tugging at his seat belt as if he wanted to make sure it would work in an emergency. The twins were staring out of the windows and calling to each other.