Bumageddon: The Final Pongflict (20 page)

‘The Smacker!' said Zack. ‘I've really missed that sound!'

Suddenly Eleanor clutched Zack's arm. ‘Zack!' she said, pointing at a shop across the road. ‘Look! Captain Sterne's Fishing Supplies!'

Zack's eyes grew wide. The window was full of fishing rods, tackle boxes, nets, gumboots, full-body wetsuits and a range of lethal-looking spear guns. One of the larger spear guns looked just like the
bum-harpoon that Zack had used to shoot the Great White Bum.

‘Do you think . . . ?' he said.

‘Yes!' said Eleanor, walking even faster.

‘Look over there!' said Zack, as they approached a small used-car lot that was surrounded by strings of coloured flags.

A well-dressed man with a moustache and slicked-back hair was standing outside watching them as they passed. Zack stared at him. It was the Kisser!

‘Good afternoon,' he called. ‘Either of you interested in a car? I have some great bargains . . . how about a fun-mobile?' he said, pointing to a little dune buggy.

‘Cool,' said Zack. ‘But I'm not old enough to drive.'

‘Pity,' said the used-car salesman, looking at Zack with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I think it would really suit you. Come back when you're old enough. I'll do a very special deal. Trust me!'

‘Thanks,' said Zack, winking at Eleanor. The Kisser sure looked a lot better than when they'd last seen him, but he was still up to his old tricks.

‘See?' said Eleanor, when they were well past. ‘The details might be different but the people underneath are still the same.'

‘Yeah,' said Zack, with butterflies in his stomach.

They were approaching his grandmother's street.

‘I hope you're right . . .' he said. ‘I really do.'

A
s they walked down his gran's street, Zack was startled by a cat jumping out from behind a tree. It rolled on its back in playful recognition of him.

‘Mittens!' said Zack, overjoyed to see it alive again. He knelt down and patted her head. As he did so, he imagined that he felt his bum twitch. His bum and Mittens had never gotten on very well.

‘It's not Mittens, Zack!' said his gran's voice. ‘It's
Muffin.
'

Zack looked over the fence into his gran's front yard. There, bent over a bed of pink snapdragons, was his gran. She was pulling weeds out of the ground with the strong fingers that had made her famous as the Pincher.

‘Leave the boy alone, Mabel,' said an old man who was balanced on top of a small stepladder, washing the front window of the house. He was wiping the glass dry with a large handful of newspaper. ‘Mittens, Muffin . . . what's the difference? It's all the same to a cat. How are you, Zack?'

Zack was too stunned to speak.

It was one thing to see your grandmother who died 65 million years ago alive again, but to discover that your long-dead grandfather who you'd never even met was still very much alive was another thing entirely. It was Percy.
Percy Freeman. The Wiper!

‘Hi, Grandpa,' said Zack, his voice sounding very far away to him, as if speaking in a dream. ‘It's a great honour to meet you.' His grandpa gave Zack a strange look. ‘I mean,
see
you,' said Zack, flustered as he realised his mistake. ‘It's good to
see
you again!'

‘It's good to see you again, too, Zack,' said his grandpa, chuckling. ‘Even though you've only been gone since this morning.'

Zack looked at Eleanor and frowned. ‘I have?' said Zack.

‘Are you feeling all right, Zack?' said Gran.

‘Yes,' said Zack quickly. ‘I'm fine. Are . . . are . . . Mum and Dad home?'

‘They're over at Eleanor's house,' said his gran.

Zack turned to Eleanor. ‘They're alive!' he said.

‘Of course they're alive, you silly boy!' said Gran, peering closely at Zack. ‘I think you must have been out in the sun too long today.'

‘No,' said Zack. ‘I just forgot.'

Gran shook her head and laughed. ‘You forgot your parents were alive?' she said. ‘You'd forget your own head if it wasn't screwed on!'

‘It's not Zack's head that's the problem,' said Eleanor. ‘It's his bum.'

‘Language, young lady!' said Gran.

‘Sorry,' said Eleanor.

Grandpa winked at Zack and Eleanor, trying to suppress a grin.

Zack smiled. The details were different, but the important things hadn't changed. She was still the same old Gran.

‘Anyway,' she said, ‘you two had better be getting
on to Eleanor's house. You're having dinner there tonight—or had you forgotten that as well? They'll be wondering where you are.'

Even as she spoke, Eleanor and Zack heard a voice calling to them from across the street. They looked and saw two men sitting on the verandah at the front of the house.

‘Eleanor! Zack!' boomed a deep voice. ‘Dinner's almost ready!'

‘That's my dad,' said Eleanor, her eyes shining.

‘You'd better go,' said Zack's grandpa.

‘See you later,' said Zack, as he ran to catch up with Eleanor, who was already halfway across the street. ‘Have a good night.'

‘You too,' called Gran. ‘And don't forget to wash your hands!'

Z
ack stared as he approached the house. His father was sitting next to Silas Sterne.

‘They
are
alive!' said Zack as he drew level with Eleanor.

‘Yes,' said Eleanor. ‘But what about our mothers? Where are they?'

‘Probably inside,' said Zack.

‘I hope you're right,' said Eleanor, biting her lip.

The two bum-fighters—or to be more accurate,
ex
-bum-fighters—walked up the front steps. Smoke filled the air.

‘. . . but you know, Jim,' said Eleanor's father, a red glow coming from the end of his pipe, ‘I don't think I'll ever forget the sound that the Great White Whale made when I hit it with the harpoon. I think it will haunt me to the end of my days.'

‘In a strange way, I know exactly what you mean, Captain,' said Jim Freeman. ‘I've never been whale-hunting, of course, but once in the middle of a symphony my bassoon made a noise very similar to that of a whale in distress. An interesting sound, to be sure, but definitely not appropriate for that passage. The conductor never forgave me. I think that sound will haunt me to the end of my days as well.'

‘So you really
do
play a wind instrument,' said Zack, shaking his head in wonder. ‘In an orchestra!'

‘Of course I do!' said Jim. ‘You know that!'

‘About time you two showed up,' said Captain Sterne, turning his attention to Eleanor. He opened his arms wide. ‘You were supposed to be home an hour ago!'

‘Sorry, Dad,' said Eleanor, embracing her father.

‘You two haven't been playing in Ed Kelly's barn again, have you?' said Captain Sterne, pulling a bit of straw out of Eleanor's hair.

‘No,' said Eleanor, straining to see into the kitchen through the flywire screen door. ‘Is Mum inside?'

‘Yes,' said the Captain. ‘She's with Judi.'

‘I'll just go and tell her that we're okay,' Eleanor said, rushing inside.

The screen door banged shut behind her.

‘Always on a mission, that girl,' said Captain Sterne.

‘Just like her father,' chuckled Jim.

The Captain fixed Zack with a glittering eye as he packed a new pipe. ‘I was just telling your dad about my time aboard a whaling ship.'

‘You were a whale hunter?' said Zack.

‘A whale
hunter,
yes,' said the Captain. ‘I never actually caught one. I came close, of course, but the Great White is a slippery beast . . .'

Zack nodded distractedly. He was more interested in the sight of Eleanor hugging her mother. And the sight of his own mother standing next to them.

‘Have you ever read
Moby Dick,
Zack?' said Silas.

‘No,' said Zack, desperately trying to hear what Eleanor was saying to her mother above the Captain's ramblings.

‘I had to rescue Zack from a drain . . . and then we got lost in the desert . . . Brown Forest . . . Sea of Bums . . . bumcano . . . zombie bums . . . maggots . . . brown hole . . . Uranus . . . dawn of life . . . bumosaurs . . . bumantula . . . bumodactyl nest . . . Stink Kong . . . Crack of Doom . . . Great White Bum . . .'

Zack heard Eleanor's mother laugh. ‘What an imagination you have!' she said.

‘We
didn't
imagine it!' said Eleanor. ‘It really happened!'

Eleanor's mother, a kind woman with soft eyes, put her arm around Eleanor's shoulder and walked her to the door. ‘You're not boring Zack with another one of
your “true” stories, are you?' she said to her husband. ‘It's easy to see where you get it from, Eleanor, with a father like that!'

‘But, Mum!' said Eleanor. ‘It's not a
story
! I'm telling the truth!'

Zack's mother looked at Zack. ‘Eleanor's been telling us that you've had a very big adventure this afternoon,' she said, smiling.

‘Tell them it's true, Zack,' pleaded Eleanor. ‘They think I'm making it up!'

‘Don't believe a word of it,' said Zack firmly, frowning at Eleanor. ‘It was just a game.'

Eleanor glared back at him.

‘I'm glad I can count on at least one of you to tell the truth!' said Eleanor's mother, shaking her head. ‘Now go and get washed up for dinner.'

I
n the bathroom Zack and Eleanor washed their hands.

‘We can't tell
anybody
about what happened and what we've been through,' said Zack, towelling his hands dry. ‘They'll never understand. They
can't
understand.'

‘I know,' said Eleanor. ‘Sorry, I forgot. Seeing Mum
again after all these years . . . I didn't know what I was saying. I still can't really believe it.'

‘Yeah,' said Zack, nodding. ‘It's weird. It doesn't seem real. And yet it is. We did it, Eleanor.
We saved the world!
'

Eleanor turned the tap off. ‘Do you think so?' she said. ‘Really? You don't think there's even a slight chance that the Great White Bum survived? Remember what the Mutant Spew Lord said?
The Great White Bum is a freak.
How do we know that he didn't survive the blast . . . that he's not out there somewhere . . . plotting . . . planning . . . preparing another Bumageddon?'

Zack put his hands on Eleanor's shoulders. ‘Because we're here now,' said Zack. ‘That's how. You said it yourself!'

Eleanor nodded slowly. ‘Yes,' she said. ‘But . . . '

‘No buts,' said Zack. ‘Although it only feels like an hour ago to us, the arseteroid blast happened 65 million years ago. If the Great White Bum had survived, he would have tried something by now, don't you think? But there's no evidence of it. We're living in a world where there are no such things as bum-fighting or bum-fighters. Except for us, of course. We'll always be bum-fighters. And it is up to us to guard the Earth against the remote possibility of bum attacks in the future. We've both taken the bum-fighter's oath, after all. But we're the only ones who can ever possibly know what really happened and what we achieved.'

‘Only us,' said Eleanor, ‘and our bums.'

‘No,' said Zack. ‘Not even our bums, remember? They're not independent operators anymore.'

As Zack said this, he patted his bum—and froze.

‘What's the matter?' said Eleanor.

‘It's gone!' said Zack. ‘My bum's gone!'

Eleanor patted the back of her pants and gasped. ‘So has mine!' she said. ‘Oh no! Not again! It's
not
over, is it?'

The two ex-bum-fighters stared at each other for a long, horrifying moment.

Then Zack grinned.

‘Why are you smiling, Zack?' said Eleanor. ‘This isn't funny!'

‘Look!' said Zack, pointing over Eleanor's shoulder.

Eleanor turned. Then she grinned too.

Their two bums were standing on the window ledge, hand in hand, gazing at the sunset.

Eleanor and Zack stood and watched their bums watching the sunset.

It was a beautiful scene.

Well, beautiful until Zack's bum did a long, loud fart.

Eleanor's bum reddened, turned to Zack's bum and then, to both Zack and Eleanor's surprise, replied in kind.

The two bums nudged closer to each other as their gases mingled and combined into a perfect love heart above them.

Zack, his eyes watering, looked at Eleanor and smiled. ‘No,' he said. ‘I don't think it's over yet. Not by a long shot. In fact, I think it's only just begun.'

Accident
Another word for
fate.

Anti-giant-brown-blob spray
Provides personal protection against
giant-brown-blobbification.

Arseteroid
Irregularly shaped bum that orbits the Sun. They range in size from a 1000-km diameter down to dust particles. Occasionally they slam into the Earth. Avoid. See
giant arseteroid.

Atomic bum-blasting bullets
Bum-gun
bullets with atomic bum-blasting power.

Atomic power punch
A powerful punch delivered to a bum, or bums. May be delivered with one fist or two. See
double-handed atomic power punch.

AWOL
Arse without leave.

B-force
Unit of force based on the amount of energy it takes one bum to kick another bum one metre.

Blind Bum-feeler, The
A person with the power to ‘read' bums and reveal amazing—but frequently mystifying—information about the past, present and future.