The Venetian Job (10 page)

As Sophie's mum told Mum all about Sophie's
Italian handmade beaded silk shoes, Nanna arrived. She wanted to
know the color of the bridesmaids' dresses. Mum thought they were
lilac and Sophie's mum thought they were lavender.

Aunt Evil (as Charlie and me call her)
turned up. She parked in the loading zone out the front of the
church, probably so everyone could check out her red Mercedes
sports car. She came over and Charlie and me stood back while
everyone kissed everyone else like they hadn't seen each other
since Christmas (and not two weeks ago at Nanna's place).

Charlie kicked a stone in my direction. Dad
spun round to see if we were doing anything we shouldn't be. I
stood on the stone and gave him a blank look. So far I'd made a
good impression. I'd been quiet and still, just like Dad had told
me to be. I wouldn't kick the stone back to Charlie. I'd let
Charlie suffer.

Everyone turned to look at me.

"I didn't do anything," I said.

Then Sophie's mum stepped back and wrapped
her arm round me, squeezing me like I was a plastic duck that
spurted water out its mouth. Geez, I'd only just met her! "Avril,"
she said, "I think he's lovely and he seems perfectly behaved."

Aunt Evil laughed nervously. "Trust me," she
replied, "he's programmed to make trouble."

"Oh, he's a good boy," said good old
Nanna.

I glared at my evil aunt. She looked guilty
and turned away. So it was Aunt Evil who told Sophie that I was too
naughty! My heart thumped like I'd just run a hundred-metre race. I
wanted revenge, but I wouldn't do anything yet. I'd wait. I'd wait
until the right moment. Then I'd get revenge on my evil aunt.

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"
C
rocodiles!" I jumped off
the couch and dropped the remote. "I hate crocodiles. They eat
people and they're ugly."

Mom held her forehead and sighed. She
thought I was being a pain in the butt. She always did that when
she thought I was being a pain in the butt. She did it a lot.

Charlie, who was doing his math homework at
the dining table, laughed out loud. I knew he was thinking,
Max, go ahead, be a pain in the butt because
that always makes me look good.

Mom pulled dead flowers out of the vase as
though she was angry with them. "Maaax, we've been planning this
holiday for ages. We're going and you'll have a wonderful
time."

"I'd rather go to Nanna's," I said. 'She
likes me helping her."

"Nanna is going to the Gold Coast—"

"Great ... I'll go to the Gold Coast."

Charlie looked up. I bet he'd rather go to
the Gold Coast too.

"You can't," replied Mom. "She's going with
her friends. You'd spoil her fun."

I flopped down on the couch. I hated that. I
hated being a kid. Always being told what to do and never getting
to decide where we'd go for holidays. When I have kids, I'll let
them choose where we go for holidays every year. If my kids wanted
go to Disneyland ten years in a row, I'd take them.

Mom put the dead flowers in the bin, then
came over and sat next to me. She squeezed my hand and whispered,
"We'll only see the crocodiles from the safety of a boat. People
only die from crocodile attacks because they swim where they
shouldn't. They ignore the
No
Swimming
signs."

Could all moms read their kids' minds? My
mom just knows when I'm scared of something. I wondered what else
she knew. Did she know that I listened to music at night when I was
meant to be asleep?

"So it's safe?" I whispered to her.

Charlie called out, "Max, you've got more
chance of being killed by lightning than being killed by a
crocodile. In Australia last year, ten people died because they
were struck by lightning and only one died of a crocodile attack.
And if you lived in Africa, you're much more likely to be killed by
a lion."

Typical. He was always trying to impress Mom
with facts and figures. I told him, "I'd rather be killed by
lightning."

"Yeah, being zapped would be electrifying."
He stood up and shook like a bolt of electricity had shot through
his body.

"Get lost," I said.

"I hope you don't come," he said as he went
back to tapping numbers on a calculator and writing down figures.
"I'll have the whole back seat of the car to myself. I won't have
to share a room. I can watch whatever I want on TV."

I hated the way he could talk and do math as
though it was as easy as walking and breathing at the same
time.

"That won't happen," said Mom. "Max is
coming."

I folded my arms. "You can't force me."

She shook her head as if I were a hopeless
case. "You know there's nothing to fear but fear itself."

That was one of her favorite sayings. She
said it to me a thousand times a year. She used to say it when I
was afraid of the dark, afraid of the invisible monster hiding in
my wardrobe and afraid of strange noises at night.

Without looking up, Charlie said, "We should
see Kakadu before global warming wrecks it."

Typical. Charlie and Dad reckon we have to
see everything before global warming wrecks it. I bet we'll never
again have a normal holiday at the beach. Now we have to see stuff.
We would've had to gawk at icebergs in Antarctica last summer, but
luckily that was too expensive. I said, "I wouldn't want to see
Kak-my-du even if it didn't have crocs."

"It's called Kakadu National Park," said
Mom. "Thousands of people visit it every year. And I bet most of
those people are terrified of crocodiles. But they still want to
see them in the wild. And there are lots of walks, swimming holes
and waterfalls. The landscape is stunning and there are Aboriginal
rock paintings too." She gave me one of her pleading looks. "Max,
when you were little, you were so brave."

"WERE BRAVE," Charlie repeated, without
looking up.

I yelled, "I'm still brave!"

Mom smiled at me and messed up my hair as if
I were five years old.

"Okay, I'll go," I said. I'd show her how
brave I was. I decided right then that I wouldn't be afraid of
crocs. I'd be brave like Charlie. I was only two and a half years
younger than him, so I should be brave like him. And from now on I
would be. And even if I wasn't, I'd pretend I was.

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'W
oodlands' was vintage red
brick with big windows and lots of stained glass. The comfy chairs
on the front veranda and the garden full of flowers made the house
seem more friendly than grand. None of us spoke; we just stared out
the car windows as Dad parked out the front. I reckon we still
couldn't believe how our lives had changed. Mom's
childless-super-rich-computer-software-whiz uncle had died in a
plane crash and Mom inherited his whole fortune. For the first time
I was happy we didn't have many relatives.

We'd only ever lived in a shoebox stuck in
between two other shoeboxes, surrounded by asphalt, with barely a
tree in sight. Now we were moving into the home from heaven. Lucky
I knew who my friends were; I wouldn't want kids being my friend
just so they could swim in my twenty-metre pool, soak in the spa,
play tennis and hang out in the games room. I couldn't wait to
invite my friends over. They'd probably want to move into one of
the spare bedrooms.

Caesar barked when the removals truck beeped
as it reversed into our driveway. I opened the car door and turned
to Emily. Her pale blue eyes were wide open and she bounced on her
seat. Usually she only got this excited the night before Christmas.
'Ready?'

She clung on to her favorite doll and
followed me and Caesar to the front door. Emily liked our old
shoebox and hadn't wanted to move at first. When she announced at
dinner one night that she wasn't moving, Mom looked horrified. So I
saved the day by telling her that living in a house with a big
backyard would be better when she had her own dog. After that she
couldn't wait to move. Problem solved, except Mom didn't want
another dog. Mom wasn't impressed.

Dad unlocked the front door and Emily
squealed. We raced down the wide hallway to our bedrooms. We'd
chosen our rooms, the first time we got to see inside. When I saw
it was a choice between unreal and unreal, I let Emily choose. All
my clothes would fit into a quarter of the closet space and all my
books would take up about ten per cent of the bookcase. I'd have to
spread everything out. The desk went the whole way along one wall -
who needed a desk that long?

Caesar began to bark like crazy in a room at
the front of the house.

Mom called out from the kitchen, 'Adam, find
out what's bothering Caesar.'

As soon as I'd sprinted back up the hallway
to the study, I could see what was bothering Caesar. I patted him
and whispered, 'It's okay.' He stopped barking and began to sniff
around the room.

'Hello,' I said to the boy sitting on the
bay window seat. He looked about the same age as me.

The boy looked round as if I were talking to
someone else. Then, he said, 'Are you talking to me?'

'Who else would I be talking to?' I said
telepathically. I communicate with ghosts by thinking the words,
instead of saying them aloud. When I was little, I assumed everyone
saw and talked to ghosts. Luckily, I worked out before I started
school that 'normal' people couldn't see them.

The boy raised his eyebrows and I wondered
whether he'd had a conversation with a living person since he died.
He whispered, 'Can you see me?'

I nodded. 'My family won't be able to see
you. Only me and my Grandpa George see ghosts.' His aura turned
orange, which meant I'd irritated him. I see the auras of ghosts
too. That's the energy surrounding the ghost, which changes color
depending on the ghost's mood. Even my Grandpa George can't see
auras; it's pretty unusual. He reckons for every one hundred people
who can see and talk to ghosts, only one of them can see their
auras. Grandpa George helped me to work out what the colors meant.
What I couldn't work out with this ghost was what I'd said to
irritate him.

He let out a big sigh. 'Only my Grandpa
George and I can see ghosts. And, actually, Earthbound Spirits is
the correct term.' His voice was as posh as.

'Yeah, Earthbound Spirits, ghosts - same
thing. You weren't here the first time I came to the house.'

The boy shrugged. 'I must've been out.'

'What's your name?'

'Edward Lawrence. And you are Adam?'

'Castle.'

'Pleased to meet you, Adam. Your gift of
sight is extraordinarily good. It's a privilege to meet a member of
the Living who can tune in to our frequency.'

I don't like being called a 'member of the
Living' - as though we're the weird ones.

'Who knows you have the gift of sight?'

'Only my Grandpa George. He reckons if we
told my parents they'd send us to the nut house,' I said as Caesar
sniffed Edward's shoe. He shrank back - he obviously didn't like
dogs. I asked, 'Why are you wearing a blazer and tie?' I didn't
mention his ridiculous-looking shorts.

'Why are you wearing jeans and a dirty
T-shirt?' he replied.

When I didn't answer, he said, 'I died in my
school uniform. I always remove my cap before teleporting
inside.'

Ghosts move from place to place by thinking
where they want to be. 'Lucky,' I said. 'My parents wouldn't be
happy if the ghost of the house wore a cap inside.'