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Authors: Michael Gerard Bauer

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BOOK: Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel
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‘Umm, just thought the girls might like a quick tour around the extensions before we go in.'

‘But it's starting already. Anyway, you won't see anything down there. That just leads around to the back.'

‘Ooooo, sounds fascinating,' Cindy purred.

Razz and Sally shared a smile and disappeared in the shadows. Cindy pulled me after them. A little way in she stopped and yanked me to the side.

‘This is soooooo interesting. What's
that
?' she said, pointing at a downpipe.

‘It's a downpipe. You know, for water.'

‘A-maaaaaazing,' she said. ‘Why is it called that?'

‘Ah, I guess because it's a pipe and water comes down it.'

‘Wow! You are soooo smart,' she said as she placed her hands on my chest and pushed me back until I felt the cool of the brick wall behind me. Then she moved slowly forward and her body began to press against mine. Her chest was the first part of her to arrive – by a clear margin. Big brown eyes looked up at me. Cindy had a strange smile on her face. Her lips opened slightly and I could see a row of her perfect whiter-than-white-toothpaste-commercial teeth.

As Cindy Sexton's face moved closer, images of Kelly Faulkner flashed through my mind. I remembered our kiss – the soft touch of Kelly's lips and the electric shock that shot through my body as they melted gently into mine. Now I was staring at other lips. They were big and red. And they seemed to be screaming out, ‘Kiss me, stupid!' It sounded like an excellent idea. I aimed my own puny lips at Cindy's supersized ones and hoped for the best.

I just wasn't quite prepared for what happened next.

9.
A TURBO-CHARGED COBRA

Cindy's lips met my lips. They squished together. Something detonated in my chest and shock waves zinged throughout my body. Some parts were zinging more than others.

Cindy moaned and wrapped her mouth around mine. She tasted like strawberries. The outside world was melting away and so was most of me. I was just a mouth and a pair of lips. That's all that mattered. Cindy opened hers wider and pushed in harder. Suddenly I found myself with a mouth full of tongue and the vast majority of it didn't belong to me!

For a second, having Cindy Sexton's tongue take up residence in my mouth felt like a very good thing indeed. But that was before it went berserk and began thrashing around like a turbo-charged cobra, slithering and slipping everywhere and poking and prodding every gap and cavity in my teeth. Not even my dentist was this thorough!

I desperately tried to subdue Cindy's manic tongue by counter-attacking with my own. But it was hopeless. I was fighting way out of my league. Hers was bigger, stronger, faster and obviously match-fit. It was an Olympic Champion tongue! Mine was easily and quickly out-manoeuvred, body-slammed and counted out. Cindy moaned again and pushed her mouth harder against mine. The killer tongue slid in even further. It had my tonsils in its sights!

I pulled away. Cindy and I slurped apart. I gulped in some air. I made a mental note to remember to breathe through my nose. Cindy licked her lips. They seemed to have doubled in size. Maybe she had them fitted with a special pump mechanism like in those joggers. OK, now I was being ridiculous. I needed to calm myself down and prepare for Round Two. I looked at Cindy. Was that a mad glint in her eye or just a reflection from the moon? There was no time to decide. She began zeroing in again. I took a deep breath as we edged closer together. I kept thinking,
If I could just get her to calm down a bit and take it a little slower, then this could be really, really goo –

AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!

Turbo-tongue was back with a vengeance! I could have sworn a giant salamander was throwing a fit in my mouth. I pulled back again and we slurped apart once more. Cindy frowned a little but she was soon moving in for another assault. I tried to keep it together. I tried to be cool and hold my nerve but when her teeth parted and I saw that psycho tongue poised to strike like a big pink moray eel I couldn't help it – I flinched and at the last moment I turned my mouth away.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!

Cindy had latched on to my neck and was sucking like a leech on steroids! A riot of shivers torpedoed down my arms and legs. It was worse than being held down and tickled. I was on the verge of hysteria. I told myself to
calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down
, while I struggled frantically to keep my hyperventilation under control so I could assess the situation.

My neck felt hot and wet. My pulse was throbbing. Cindy was still clinging on like a sucker fish. I could feel her tongue tickling my skin. She'd gone right for the jugular. That's one of the four big veins in the neck, you know. We learnt all about it in Science with Mr Kalkhovnic. It supplies blood to the brain. Hey, wait a minute. What if all that sucking was stopping
my circulation? What if my brain was being starved of blood? Little spots began to blink and float in front of my eyes like tiny silent fireworks.

I was feeling light-headed. Maybe Cindy was crazy? What did I really know about her, anyway? Maybe she'd seen too many Vampire School movies. Maybe she
was
a vampire. Oh my god, and it was a full moon tonight! Of course! Didn't vampires come out when there was a full moon? Or was that just werewolves and goths? Wait a minute, did I just feel teeth on my neck? Was my pulse getting weaker? Was she drinking my blood right now? Wait, nobody said it was my shout! I pulled my neck away.
SHWWWUUCK!
She was off.

Cindy giggled. I had a quick check. Thank goodness for that – no blood dripping from her fangs. All right, I guess I might have been getting a little hysterical there. Probably a result of lack of blood to the brain. Or possibly lack of brain. I tried to smile but Cindy was coming for me again. My god, she was a female Terminator. She was the Terminatrix! Or possibly the Tongue-inator! Whatever she was, you couldn't stop her. Her mouth began to open. Wait, were her teeth always that pointy? She was jugular-bound again. I felt her hot breath on my wet skin and I panicked. I scrunched my shoulder up and tilted my head down in a last ditch attempt to save my neck.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!

She was devouring my ear lobe! She wasn't a vampire at all! She was a cannibal on a diet! She was having a lobe linguine! In science Mr Kalkhovnic made us compare our lobes with other students to illustrate personal differences. I have detached lobes. And now one of them felt like it was about to be detached
permanently
! It was in Cindy's mouth being sucked and mauled and nibbled around the edges. Hey, actually, to tell you the truth, that nibbling was starting to feel pretty goo –

AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!

A huge slug had begun burrowing into my ear canal! Ewwwwwwww! When was the last time I'd cleaned that canal? I couldn't remember. I couldn't think. I couldn't
hear
! It was no wonder. There was a tsunami in my head! Cindy wrapped her arms more tightly around my neck and pulled herself higher. She was on her tippy toes. Her tongue was probing and poking its way deeper. Was she drilling for oil or what?

Wait! The tiniest most delicate and fragile bones in the entire body were found in the inner ear. Isn't that what Mr Kalkhovnic said? And they had these weird names. What were they called again? The hammer, the anvil and the shifting spanner? No wait, not spanner, stirrup. That's it! The hammer, the anvil and the stirrup. They were all incredibly small and they balanced together in some amazing way so you could hear sound. And now mine were about to be slobbered on by the Godzilla of the tongue world! I twisted my head around and pulled away.
SLUUUUURP!
My de-tongued ear felt cold and clammy but at least for the moment my hammer, anvil and stirrup were safe.

Cindy was grinning at me. She was saying something but my right ear was still making strange popping and crackling noises. Was someone munching breakfast cereal in my inner canal?

‘What? Sorry?'

Cindy looked around, then repeated her words slowly with a crooked smile, ‘I
said
… would you like me to …'
SNAP! CRACKLE! POP!

What did she say? What was the end of her question?

Would you like me to:

… jab my tongue with a tranquilliser dart?

… suck out another pint of your blood?

… reattach your lobe?

… regurgitate your hammer, anvil and stirrup?

I didn't have a clue what Cindy had just asked, but at least
for the moment I wasn't being probed, sucked or eaten, so I just sort of smiled and half-nodded, half-shook my head at her.

Cindy pushed out her lips and winked at me. Then she poked me in the stomach with her finger and gave it a twist before trailing it lower. I had no idea what was going on, so I just smiled back at her again. She wrinkled her nose up as she stepped closer and whispered something. All I heard was another round of full-volume cereal crunching –
POP! POP! SNAP! POP! CRACKLE! SNAP!
– as the grin on her face spread wider.

Just then a light came flashing down the lane way. It bounced around the walls before landing on my face. Cindy leapt back and squealed. Almost immediately another squeal came from further down the alley. The light jumped from my face to Cindy's. Then it shot past us and caught Razz and Sally just as they sprang apart.

The light came from a torch.

The torch was held by Mr Barker. His voice ground its way down to us like one of those tunnel borers eating its way through a rock wall.

‘Would you mind explaining
exactly
what you're doing down there, Mr Leseur, when our opening ceremony is about to commence?'

My mind went blank. But somehow I automatically came up with the perfect stock answer for an occasion like this.

‘Nothing, Mr Barker …'

And of course
that's
where I should have stopped.
That's
where I should have shut my mouth and taken whatever Mr Barker was going to dish out. But did I do that? Oooooh, no! I had something
more
to say, didn't I? Something
brilliant.
Something that would win me my very own entry in St Daniel's folklore. Yes, that's right, I had to add
this
:

‘We were just showing the girls our extensions.'

10.
DECEASED PIECE Of SOLID BODILY WASTE

‘But wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. I haven't told you the
best
bit yet.'

Monday morning Homeroom went quiet and the crowd of eager faces clustered around Razza huddled even closer.

‘The best bit is … he looks up at Barker and he says … he says, “Aw, sorry, sir, we were just showing the girls our
extensions
”!'

That last word barely blurted out of Razz's mouth before he collapsed forward choking with laughter and banging his fist on the desk. Around him the crowd erupted in a mixed chorus of groaning, hooting and guffawing. And then rare gems of observation and wit were showered down upon me.

‘
Good
one, Ishmael.'

‘Legend Leseur …
NOT!
'

‘What a (take your pick, folks):

(a) dork!

(b) clown!

(c) idiot!

(d) dag!

(e) deceased piece of solid bodily waste! (or words to that effect)

(f) All of the above.'

‘Wouldn't need a building permit for
your
extension, Leseur.'

‘Microscope might help.'

‘I didn't even know Leseur
had
a dick.'

That last one was Aldo ‘Boggo' Bogola's contribution. The subtlety and brilliance of the razor-sharp witticisms tapered off somewhat after that. Only the appearance of Mr Guthrie saved me.

‘All right, come on. Grab a seat and quieten down. I need to see anyone who hasn't returned those excursion forms.'

I grudgingly sat down beside Razz.

‘Thanks a lot …
mate
,' I told him. ‘Now I know who to go to if I need someone to keep a secret.'

Razz was sprawled back in his chair still recovering from his laughing fit. He was sucking in air and patting his chest as if he was trying to get his heart to slow down. After a minute or two his head flopped sideways and he looked at me.

‘Sorry, man. But there's just too much pain and misery in the world not to share gold like that. “Just showing the girls our extensions”. Totally rigid, dude!' Then he threw back his head and shook with silent laughter for quite a while before wiping his eyes with the back of his hands and lurching forward on to his desk.

‘But anyway, man, what about Cindy? Didn't I tell you? She's awesome, eh? What about we all go to the pictures or something this weekend?'

‘I don't know, Razz.'

‘Don't know what?'

‘About Cindy and me and everything.'

I knew that Razz would be gawking at me like my head had just sprouted spaghetti so I just kept staring at the school diary on my desk.

‘Whataya mean, you don't know about you and Cindy? What's not to know, man? You guys got on great.'

‘Yeah … sort of.'

‘Sort of! Sort of! I hook you up with a smokin' chick, you do an advanced tongue tango together and then she's all over
you like Prindabel with a new motherboard. Dude, if that's your idea of “sort of” getting on, I can't
wait
to see what happens when you really hit it off with someone.'

‘I just don't think she's my type.'

‘Not your type! What is
wrong
with you, man?'

I stopped studying my diary and studied Razz instead. ‘What do you mean, what's
wrong
with me? Nothing's
wrong
with me, OK? Why do you think there's something
wrong
with me?'

‘Well, let me put this as delicately as I can. You know how Miss Tarango reckons guys need to get in touch with their feminine sides? Well, dude, I think you might have jumped the fence and set up camp there.'

BOOK: Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel
6.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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