Edsel Grizzler (3 page)

T
he problem that was called Kenny Sampson was already at school when Edsel arrived. He was waiting at the bike racks, a sneer fixed on his face. ‘Hey, Edsy Baby.'

‘Hey, Kenny,' Edsel said, and after he'd chained up his bike, he simply kept on walking.

Ordinarily, Kenny might have shouted something nasty as Edsel walked away, but this day he didn't. Instead, he trotted behind like a faithful pup. This frightened Edsel a bit. He wasn't used to this. He was more accustomed to the rather dumb insults shouted from the other side of the handball courts.

He stopped and turned around. ‘Kenny,
what
are you doing?'

‘Nothing.' But Kenny was by nature rather impatient, so a mere moment later he blurted out, ‘What's that thing in your front yard?'

‘A garden?'

‘No, not the garden. The other thing.'

‘A letterbox?' Edsel suggested.

‘No! The
other
thing.'

‘Oh, the
other
thing! You mean the driveway? Or the hose? Maybe the garden gnome. He's very friendly – he might even like
you,
Kenny.'

‘No!' Kenny shouted, jumping up and down on the spot as if he needed a bathroom. ‘No, not the gardenbox or the letterhose or the drivergnome.
The other thing!'

Edsel smiled. He enjoyed it when Kenny got himself all worked up. He leaned a little closer. ‘Do you mean the spaceship?' he asked, in a voice only slightly louder than a whisper.

Kenny took a step back. His eyes narrowed as he had a bit of a think. Then he had a bit more of a think. Finally he said, ‘No it's not. It's not really a spaceship … is it?'

‘Isn't it? Then why were all those kids queuing up for almost half an hour to have a go in it?
And
paying me money to do it?'

‘But I didn't see it go anywhere,' Kenny said. ‘And I watched for … for—'

‘Ages?'

‘For a while,' Kenny admitted. ‘And it didn't go anywhere. It stayed there the whole time.'

‘Did
it, though?' Edsel said with a sly grin. ‘Maybe it's a Fourth Dimension kind of thing.'

‘Fourth
dimension?' Kenny frowned. Kenny thought. Kenny frowned and thought. Then Kenny thought and frowned. Finally he let out a kind of whimper. ‘My brain hurts,' he said.

‘Yeah, I thought it might,' Edsel replied. ‘Come over this afternoon and have a go if you want.'

‘Sure, whatever, like I would,' Kenny muttered as he wandered off, glancing back once or twice as he went.

Edsel knew that Kenny wouldn't come over that afternoon. But he certainly wasn't expecting to see him push a wheelbarrow out into the middle of
his
front lawn. The old computer joystick was a bit of a surprise, too, as was the piece of torn cardboard with
REEL spacship rides – 10$
written on it in heavily scratched-on biro.

Edsel saw this as he was setting up his drink stall in preparation for the swarm of little kids that he was expecting at any moment. Putting down his sign, he wandered across the street and stood there with his hands in his pockets. ‘What's this?' he asked Kenny, nodding at the wheelbarrow.

‘It's obvious, isn't it?' Kenny said, rolling his eyes.

‘Well, it's obviously a wheelbarrow.'

Kenny's face went red. It looked like steam might be about to gush out of his ears. ‘No, you idiot, it's a
spaceship
!'

‘Disguised as a wheelbarrow?'

‘No! Well, yes, I suppose.'

‘Ten dollars a go? For how long?'

Kenny frowned. ‘Two minutes?' he replied, uncertainly.

‘So let me get this straight: kids are going to choose to pay ten dollars for two minutes in a wheelbarrow – sorry, a spaceship – sorry, a
spacship
disguised as a wheelbarrow, when right across the street is a
real
spaceship for only fifty cents? For a five-minute turn?'

‘That's right,' Kenny said, but he looked rather unconvinced by his own answer.

Edsel chuckled. ‘Then you really are as stupid as you look. Okay, I guess we'll see, won't we?'

‘I guess we will,' muttered Kenny.

About forty minutes later, just as Edsel was pouring out his fifteenth red cordial Mars drink for the afternoon, he saw through the crowd of little kids in his front yard that Kenny was packing away his wheelbarrow. As he came back out to pick up the sign, Kenny made a face at Edsel. It was partly a frown and partly a scowl, with a bit of frustration and a whole heap of anger mixed in. Edsel knew what that look meant. It meant,
We'll talk about this at school tomorrow.
It wasn't a pleasant idea.

Kenny did see Edsel at school the following day, but he didn't come alone. He came in the company of his best friend, Mikey McSwain, who was, if at all possible, even stupider than Kenny.

Edsel was sitting under one of the she-oaks in the playground going over his accounts for what he'd decided to call ‘The Egg Project' when Kenny and Mikey walked over. ‘Hey, Grizzler, Kenny here says you've been causing trouble,' snarled Mikey.

Without lifting his eyes, Edsel raised one finger, just until he'd finished what he was writing. Then he glanced up. ‘I'm sorry – what?'

Mikey narrowed his eyes at this inconvenience. ‘I
said,
Kenny here says you've been causing trouble.'

‘Have I?' said Edsel, pulling a puzzled kind of expression. ‘Now let me think—'

‘You know what he's talking about, Grizzler,' said Kenny.

‘Yeah, and you'd better stop this spaceshop business before someone gets hurt,' Mikey added.

‘Space
ship
, Mikey. It's a space
ship
,' Kenny muttered.

Mikey looked surprised. ‘Oh, is it? Well,
that
makes more sense. I did wonder what a spaceshop was.'

‘Are you guys done?' Edsel asked. ‘Because if you don't mind …'

‘All right,' said Mikey. ‘But just remember what I said.'

‘Yeah,' Kenny agreed.

‘Or you'll what?' asked Edsel.

‘Huh?'

‘Or you'll do what?'

‘Excuse me,' said Mikey, and he and Kenny stepped away a couple of metres and muttered between themselves for a few seconds. Then they came back.

‘Well?' asked Edsel. ‘What will you do?'

‘We're not going to tell you right now, but it's really bad.'

‘Okay,' Edsel replied. ‘Thanks. I appreciate the warning. Honestly.'

Mikey and Kenny looked at one another, their faces smudged with confusion.

‘That's all right,' Mikey mumbled as they turned to leave.

Shortly after he got home from school, and just as the crush of little kids was starting to arrive for their daily play in Edsel's Egg, Kenny appeared. Edsel had watched him sitting glum and alone beside his wheelbarrow for a while, and had seen him glancing over at Edsel's busy front yard every now and then. After a bit, he'd stood up and sauntered along the nature strip for a while, just kicking at the grass and balancing along the edge of the kerb. Then, at last, he'd plucked up the courage to wander across the street, his hands in his pockets. And now, here he was. ‘Hey, Grizzler,' he said with a casual nod.

‘Hey,' Edsel replied. ‘Are you here to give me my nasty surprise?'

Kenny shook his head. ‘Nah, just taking a walk, trying to clear my head after a busy afternoon.'

‘Aha,' said Edsel. ‘So you decided to come over here.'

Kenny stretched and yawned. ‘Yep, that's right. Just taking a break.'

Edsel was going to ask him what it was exactly that he was taking a break from, but he didn't get the chance, because Kenny had strolled over to the Egg. He peeked over the rim into the cockpit, where little Jamie McLind-say was busily pursuing some sort of space-baddie across the galaxy, with his silver space helmet sliding down over his eyes.

‘So, Grizzler, is this a real cockpit?' Kenny asked.

‘Does it
look
like a real cockpit?'

For the first time ever, Edsel saw a twinge of hurt in Kenny's face. ‘I was just asking,' he said. ‘You don't have to be so rude.'

‘Yeah, I reckon it's a real cockpit,' Edsel answered, feeling a little bad.

‘What's the green button do?'

Edsel shrugged. ‘Nothing, as far as I can tell.'

‘It makes me go super-space-fast,' Jamie McLindsay said, pushing the button several times in a row.

‘Right, whatever, squirt,' said Kenny, who had stopped looking hurt and was back to looking mean. ‘See ya, Grizzler. Have fun playing with your little friends.' And he spun on his heel and crossed back over to his side of the street, briefly glancing back at the Egg as he went.

L
ater that afternoon, as dusk was settling across the street and Edsel was packing up, he heard the familiar splutter of Pete Grabbit's old ute from beyond the tall house on the corner. It groaned into Edsel's street, backfired twice, lurched along for a bit, and promptly broke down two doors away, black smoke belching from its exhaust pipe. Looking embarrassed, Pete got out and slammed his door, kicked one of the front tyres, then came muttering along the footpath until he reached Edsel. ‘Still can't find what's wrong with the truck,' he said. Then he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘Hey, Edsel, I brought you something. It's on the back.'

‘What is it?' Edsel asked, walking towards Pete's now-silent ute. ‘What have you got back there?'

‘Dunno, really, but I think it belongs with that egg thing we brung here the other day,' said Pete as he trotted after Edsel.

By now Edsel was standing beside the tray of the truck, waving away the black smoke and looking at a large transparent dome. ‘It should fit – it looks about the right size,' he said, fighting back a cough. ‘Can we get it off?'

‘Sure can.'

They unstrapped the dome and lifted it down. Like the Egg itself, the dome was a lot lighter than it looked. It was no bother at all to carry it over to the Egg, which stood there silent and slightly majestic on its three chrome legs.

‘Here, look,' said Edsel, pointing to a pair of little slots at the back of the cockpit. ‘I bet those little lugs at the back of the dome fit straight into there.'

‘You'll need a screwdriver, I reckon,' Pete suggested. ‘So you can tighten it up and everything.'

But as they carefully slid the lugs into their slots, Edsel felt something strange, as if some kind of gentle but firm force within the Egg itself was pulling the lugs in and gripping them tightly in place.

The plexiglass canopy in position, Edsel and Pete stood back, arms folded, and surveyed their handiwork. The Egg did look better, its shape more complete, now that it had its other half.

‘So, Edsel, what is it?' Pete asked. ‘You worked it out yet?'

Edsel shook his head. He still hadn't the foggiest idea.

‘Oh, wait, look here!' said Pete, pointing at Edsel's hand-painted sign. ‘This says it's a spaceship.'

Edsel shook his head sadly. ‘No, Pete,
I
wrote that.'

‘Oh,' said Pete, who really wasn't terribly bright. ‘Then I don't know what it is. Do you think it's waterproof?' he asked, glancing skywards.

‘Why? Do you think it's going to rain?' Looking up, Edsel saw dark clouds assembling in the distance.

‘Yeah, I reckon it might. Oh, hang on,' Pete said as his phone started to ring, and stuffing his hand deep into his pocket, he pulled it out and walked a short distance away. ‘I know, Mum!' Edsel heard him say. ‘Yeah, I told you I would … Yeah, I
know
… Fine, I'll pick it up it on the way back to the shop. Bye, Mum.'

‘Mother trouble?' Edsel asked.

‘She's such a nagger. She must think I can't do nothing myself.'

Edsel smiled. ‘I know what you mean. Speaking of nagging mothers …' he said as he heard the front door open.

‘Oh, it's just you, Pete,' said Mum, with an embarrassed little half-laugh. ‘I heard a voice …'

Pete turned and gave her a shy little wave. ‘Hello, Mrs Edsel … I mean Mrs Grizzler.'

‘I heard an adult voice and I … well, I wondered who it was.' She half-laughed again. ‘Just thought I should check …'

Edsel tried to cover his sigh, but didn't do terribly well. ‘It's okay, Mum, he's not a stranger.'

Mum smiled tightly. ‘Yes, well I see that now, Edsel. I just wasn't sure, that's all.' As usual, she was eating something, and a spot of cream was smudged in the corner of her mouth. ‘Would you like a scone, Pete? I've just made them, and they're still warm.'

Pete looked at Edsel, who had his back to his mother. Edsel turned up his nose and shook his head, just the tiniest bit. He didn't want Pete to see inside his house, he didn't want his mother to have to attempt to have a conversation with his not-very-bright friend, and he certainly didn't want that not-very-bright friend sitting across the table from his enormous mum while she sucked down scones and cream.

‘Oh, no thanks, Mrs Grizzler,' Pete said, after Edsel had caught his eye. ‘Ta, but I gotta get going. I gotta pick up some stuff before it rains.'

‘Oh well, never mind,' Mum replied. ‘Maybe next time.'

‘See ya, Mrs Grizzler. See ya, Edsel,' Pete said, giving another quick wave, before lowering his head and scutter-ing away back to his ute.

‘Now, Edsel, I hope you haven't forgotten that we've got your parent-teacher meeting tonight,' Mum said.

Edsel sagged, as if someone had let some of his air out. He had forgotten. He'd completely forgotten. ‘Oh. Is that tonight?'

‘Yes, it is. Now, you need to tidy up here and get showered, and be ready to go the minute your father gets home.'

‘Can we eat out?' Edsel asked hopefully, even though he already knew the answer.

‘No, I don't think so,' Mum replied. ‘Restaurant kitchens aren't clean.'

‘How do you even know that?'

‘It's quite obvious. They're like summer break for germs, those places. No, we'll take something with us.'

‘Like what?' Edsel asked cautiously. ‘Not sandwiches … again?'

‘What's wrong with a good honest sandwich?'

‘Nothing,' Edsel said. ‘I just thought … Never mind,' he sighed.

His father came home at his usual time. Edsel was up in his room when he heard the car door slam, and the key rattle in the lock of the security door. Then he heard footsteps.

‘Tilda!' Dad called. ‘I'm home! Where's the boy?'

‘Up in his room. Don't forget we've got that thing.'

‘What thing?'

‘At school. With Edsel's teacher.'

‘Oh, yes. Is everything all right?'

‘Fine, I think. We have to go in fifteen minutes.'

Footsteps came up the stairs, and Edsel took a deep breath, and waited. As usual, his father was coming to see him.

‘Hey, Edsel. How was your day?'

‘Fine, I guess. Why?'

‘Just asking. Making sure. Anything good happen? Anything bad?'

Edsel shrugged. ‘Nothing special, good or bad. Hey, Dad, what time is our meeting at school?'

‘Seven, I think.'

Edsel glanced up at his clock on his bedroom wall. He'd found it in a pile of junk that had been left out for council pick-up day, and after wiping it down with some of his mum's antibacterial wipes, he'd fixed it with a soldering iron and a blob of recycled solder from a broken transistor radio. Now it kept perfect time, and was telling him that it was just after five o'clock.

‘So why are we leaving in fifteen minutes?'

‘We don't want to be late,' Dad replied.

‘But we won't be. We'll be ridiculously early.'

‘Which means we won't miss our appointment.'

Mum had appeared, and was wearing a frown. ‘Is everything all right?' she asked.

‘I'm just wondering why we have to leave so early,' Edsel said.

‘To be sure,' she answered. ‘What if your teacher has something dreadfully, dreadfully important to discuss with us, and we're late, and we never hear what she has to say?'

‘That won't happen,' Edsel said.

‘No, you're right – it won't,' Dad agreed. ‘Because we're going to be on time. Come on, get dressed, son.'

‘And make sure you wear something warm – I think it's about to rain out there,' his mother said. ‘And the last thing we want is for you to—'

‘Catch my death of cold. Yes, I know,' Edsel said. ‘I'll be ready.'

‘Good boy.' Mum gave him a warm, but slightly concerned smile, and his parents headed downstairs, leaving Edsel with his head in his hands.