Charlie Burr and the Three Stolen Dollars Read online

  ‘There’s dishes in the kitchen sink, Charlie,’ she said. ‘You and Johnno can wash them up for me.’

  ‘What did I do?’ asked Johnno when we went inside.

  ‘You opened your big fat mouth!’ I said. Then I explained that Mum and my sisters thought Rosy was a new girl at school.

  Johnno cracked up laughing. ‘You think you’ve got problems, Charlie,’ he said. ‘Did you see Mason in his frilly shirt?’

  I told him to look on the bright side. At least Mason hadn’t turned up as Cinderella.

  ‘Cinderella?’ said Johnno. ‘Dad joked Mason should go to the dance as a pumpkin, and he nearly did! Just because he’s good at footy, he thinks he can get away with anything!’

  And Mum reckons our family is lousy at being normal!

  I told Johnno about Spike eating the car deodorant. He said it could be poisonous and we should take him to the vet.

  We finished the dishes, and then went to check on Spike. My room was empty. Spike was missing. Again! I shouldn’t have left my window open.

  We decided not to tell anyone, and to look for the pup ourselves. We hunted up and down the street and under every bit of bush and scrub, but no Spike.

  ‘The deodorant’s done him in, Charlie!’ said Johnno. ‘He’s probably crawled away to die. I think we should go home.’

  I wanted to keep on searching for Spike, but it was dark and we didn’t have a torch.

  We climbed back into my room through the window.

  I felt sick. Where was Spike? Had he been kidnapped? Had some tourist spotted him and picked him up?

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Johnno.

  ‘I’ll get Dad to help me search first thing in the morning,’ I said.

  ‘Listen, mate,’ said Johnno. ‘I reckon the pup’s a goner. That stuff he ate has probably knocked him off already.’

  ‘Shut up, Johnno! How would you feel if I talked to you like that about Rosy?’

  ‘Camels are a lot tougher than dingoes.’

  I chucked a pillow at him. ‘Go to sleep!’

  Johnno dropped down on the mattress next to my bed. ‘Sorry, Charlie!’

  I ignored him. I felt so mad, I was thinking of not having a best mate any more.

  I had horrible mixed-up dreams about Spike all night. In the last one, stringy green stuff was drooling from his mouth and he was stalking a bloke in a suit. I felt rotten when I woke up. I was mad at Dad and Mum. We should have taken Spike to the vet straight away.

  Most of all I was mad at me! What if Johnno was right? What if all I had to look forward to now was finding Spike’s dead body?

  If he really was dead, then I was going to give him a bang-up funeral. But first I had to find my missing money sock.

  Johnno woke up. I still wasn’t talking to him.

  We went to get some breakfast.

  Mum and the girls were asleep. I guess they had a late night talking about the dance.

  We found Mason snoring his head off on the sofa.

  Johnno shook him. ‘What are you doing here, bro?’ he asked.

  But Mason just thumped him and went back to sleep.

  Then Dad and Grandpa came in. They looked like a pair of zombies. Grandpa had only returned from his trip yesterday.

  ‘You’ll never guess what happened to us last night, Charlie!’ Dad said.

  ‘Young Spike bailed up the head teacher at the school dance.’

  Spike was alive?

  I had to wipe my face with my arm. It wasn’t tears, just sweat.

  Dad said Spike was at the vet.

  It turns out there is something in car deodorants that gives you hallucinations if you eat them. Maybe Spike thought the head teacher was a big, juicy lamb. Probably because his suit was white and he has fluffy white hair.

  That was Dad’s idea, anyway.

  ‘There was trouble with the camels, too!’ Grandpa said. ‘The one called Bluey got spooked by the cars, so he locked his legs!’

  Mason rolled over on the sofa. ‘None of the camels would move!’ he mumbled.

  Dad said it’d taken ages to get the team back to Uncle Mick’s place. Then they had to go back to town and shovel all the dung off the main street.

  Grandpa rubbed his hands together. ‘It was a good crop. Fat and healthy. Carted it back to my place. A great fertiliser for my vegetables.’

  His carrots will never be the same to me again. And I won’t be helping with the weeding, either.

  ‘Right,’ Dad said to Mason and Johnno. ‘Let’s drop you home while I’ve still got the energy to drive. Come on, Charlie, we’ll pick up Spike on the way.’

  I looked at Grandpa. I knew Dad would have told him about the disasters with the hair dye, the car and Mum’s bedspread. Spike had caused a lot of trouble, but what if Grandpa still wanted him?

  Well, I wanted him, too!

  Just because Grandpa’s got an animal refuge, he thinks all the wildlife belongs to him.

  But then Grandpa winked at me. ‘Sorry I can’t take the little fella, Charlie,’ he said. ‘My place is full up, and none of my animals are well enough to be sent back to the bush yet! I reckon I’ll stay here and have breakfast with your mum when she wakes up. Maybe I can talk things through a bit with her.’

  Grandpa was trying to help! Even though Mum hadn’t said so, I was sure she was thinking Spike had to go. But if anyone could talk Mum into giving Spike another chance, it was Grandpa.

  The pong in the car didn’t bother Johnno and Mason. Spend enough time with camels and not much does bother you. Camels smell a bit like manure.

  When we got to the vet’s office, Spike was pleased to see me. He gave a happy yelp and licked my face.

  Dad was a bit shocked by the vet’s bill, but he paid anyway.

  ‘It looks like I’ll have to go prospecting again soon, son,’ he said. ‘But that’s life!’

  Anyway, he loves being away from town.

  When we got to Johnno’s place, Aunty June asked if Spike and I would like to stay the night. I said yes straight away. Grandpa needed time to work his magic on Mum, and Mum needed time to get her sense of humour back.

  Then I got a nasty surprise. Aunty said there was a lot to do before the Camel Carnival, so it would be good to have an extra pair of hands to help out. Mine!

  I wasn’t happy, but it was better if Spike and me stayed away from home for a while. It was the price I had to pay if Grandpa was to have a shot at changing Mum’s mind. Besides, I like Aunty June.

  As soon as Dad left, Uncle Mick walked me, Johnno and Mason to where the camels were going to race. It was an open sandy area, cleared of scrub.

  ‘There’s two races, boys,’ Uncle Mick explained. ‘The Long Race, which is around four kilometres. And the Short Race, which is a one-hundred-metre dash. Look out for anything that might interfere with a galloping camel.’

  Then he gave us a garbage bag each and told us to get stuck into it.

  Uncle Mick had done a good job of cleaning the place up already, but we did move some brush, stones and sticks out the way. Johnno found a rusty drink can and Mason found a bit of plastic, but apart from that there wasn’t much.

  Spike was a crazy ball of energy. Whenever we threw a stick, he rushed after it.

  Then I found a tin that had once had curried sausages in it. Before I could put it in the garbage bag, Spike leapt up, grabbed it and vanished behind a mound of sand.

  ‘That pup can walk on air,’ said Mason. ‘He’d make a good footy player.’

  Luckily, we never spotted any snakes. They would’ve been around, but they probably heard us and took off before we got to them.

  Spike found some ants to annoy. It was good to see him so playful after having been so sick.

  It was hot, so we flaked out in the shade for a bit.

  Then Unc came storming down. ‘Why are you boys slacking off?’ he yelled.

  He looked mad. Probably the heat was getting to him. And all the stress of organising the Camel Carnival. ‘What d
o you think you are, a mob of bludgers?’ he said. ‘No work, no pay! Got it?’

  I jumped up straight away. I didn’t know Uncle Mick was paying us to help out! Dad hardly ever pays me for anything. Even when he does, he rips me off. But this time my three bucks looked like a sure thing. Unc would cough up the money after the carnival and then I could pay off Mum.

  Uncle Mick told us to rake up around the house. I reckoned my three bucks were in the bag! I asked Mason what he was going to do with his pay, and he said him and Johnno weren’t getting paid money. Instead Unc was going to take them on a camel-buying trip to Darwin.

  What a pair of idiots! I’d rather have the cash.

  By the middle of the afternoon, some camel owners started turning up with their camels, and tourists were arriving to stare at them. Soon the place was filling up with campervans, four-wheel drives, open-air floats and trucks with fenced-in trays.

  Boy, did Uncle Mick rake it in!

  There was an entrance fee at the gate, a fee for camping down past the back of the house, a water fee, a portable-toilet fee, a dung-collection fee and a whole pile of other fees that I didn’t know existed.

  Johnno and me spent the rest of the day helping people set up their stalls around the house. Everyone was selling something. Camel t-shirts, camel books, camel bridles, camel magnets and all sorts of other camel junk.

  Then we spotted a camel that was even bigger than Bluey. Uncle Mick wandered over to have a look.

  ‘Meet Good-time Boy,’ said his owner, a bloke with slicked-back hair called Mr Sweeney. ‘He’s the fastest camel over a short distance in the Southern Hemisphere!’

  Unc snorted. ‘Not against my Rosy, he isn’t!’

  Johnno looked sick. He knew Rosy didn’t have it in her to be a racing camel, no matter what his dad thought. Good-time Boy was a lean, mean racing machine. Poor, plump, two-humped Rosy didn’t stand a chance! ‘Looks like it really is the bush for me and Rosy, Charlie!’ said Johnno.

  Suddenly there was a lot of yelling and two blokes came belting up the hill from the camp site. One was tall and skinny. The other was short and stubby.

  ‘Ay, you, Mick Watson!’ the tall, skinny one shouted. ‘Your thieving dog has stolen our property!’

  Unc told them he never had a dog.

  ‘That cunning dingo mutt!’ the short, fat one yelled.

  I spotted Spike hiding under the verandah. He was chewing on a brown leather bag.

  I raced over and pulled away the bag. The blokes were right behind me. They spun me around and grabbed it off me.

  ‘Like picking on pups and kids, do you?’ Uncle Mick snarled. ‘Put your hands on that kid again, and there’ll be trouble. You two can clear off!’

  The blokes slunk away with their bag.

  ‘That pup’s got a nose for trouble,’ said Unc.

  Spike growled and crawled out from under the verandah.

  ‘Charlie,’ said Unc, ‘make sure Spike doesn’t upset anyone else. People have paid good money to be part of this carnival.’

  I picked Spike up.

  ‘Come on,’ said Johnno, ‘let’s go and see Rosy.’

  Johnno wanted to give Rosy a pep talk about the race the next day. But he felt too embarrassed. There were tourists there, looking at the camels.

  We walked away.

  ‘What am I going to do, Charlie?’ Johnno moaned. ‘Rosy hasn’t got a hope of winning. Especially not against Good-time Boy.’

  ‘Aw, don’t worry, mate. We’ll think of something.’

  I hadn’t a clue what. But I didn’t want to let Johnno down. I knew how I’d feel if Mum forced me to give up Spike. Which she probably would!

  Miserable!

  Aunty made us get up early. It was dark, that’s how early it was. Breakfast included a glass of warm milk. I hoped it wasn’t straight from the camels.

  By the time my family arrived, I had been slaving away doing jobs for Aunty for five hours. Johnno and I had washed the breakfast dishes, then swept down the verandah and raked all around the house between the stalls. After that, we helped Aunty set up her stall on the verandah.

  Boy, did she have a lot of stuff to sell. Aunty was fussy. Everything had to be arranged in a certain way. Then she got us to test the two megaphones, to make sure they were working.

  ‘Don’t speak too loudly,’ she said. ‘Some of the campers are still asleep.’

  I had to keep an eye on Spike, too. He kept poking his nose into everything. It just about wore me out, but I got through it by thinking about how rich I’d be at the end of the day.

  The two blokes who complained about Spike the previous day came to see me.

  ‘Sorry about yesterday, kid,’ said the tall, skinny one. ‘No harm intended.’

  His shorter, stubbier mate bent down to give Spike a pat, but Spike snarled at him.

  ‘It’s okay.’ I shrugged.

  The two men wandered off.

  Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

  Then my family arrived.

  ‘Hello, Charlie,’ said Mum. ‘I hope you’ve worked hard and Spike behaved himself like Grandpa promised.’

  Aunty told Mum I’d been wonderful. That was because I’d just given her the idea of making camel-shaped chocolate.

  Then Sharni and Tia rushed into the kitchen. I waited for them to thump me because of the lie I had told them about Rosy being a new girl at school. But they just yelled, ‘Good onya, Charlie!’ and ran out again.

  Mason, who was dressed in homemade racing silks, was chasing them. Mason is the jockey for all Uncle Mick’s camels.

  ‘He thinks your sisters are cool,’ Johnno said. ‘He was the only bloke at the school dance with twin punk chicks for a date. Now he’s thinking of starting up a punk-rap band!’

  Mum helped Aunty June put more things on her stall on the front verandah. Mum put her cakes out, too. She had heaps, but she wouldn’t give me even one!

  After the official opening and Welcome to Country by two of the Elders, Aunty June used her megaphone to do a great sales pitch. It wasn’t long before they were doing a roaring trade.

  Then the police turned up.

  ‘Just doing the rounds,’ Sergeant Scott told Mum and Aunty June.

  Down at the racetrack Uncle Mick put Dad in charge of the megaphone. Dad had never used one before and loved it. But some of his announcements were stupid. Like, ‘This is a camel carnival.’

  Duh!

  When it was time for the races, Dad said, ‘The Short Race, ladies and gentlemen, is short. One hundred metres, to be exact.’

  There were only five entries. Good-time Boy looked psycho, Rosy looked bored. I reckoned her extra hump would slow her down.

  ‘Ready … Steady … Go!’ Dad bellowed.

  Everyone cheered. Rosy ate Good-time Boy’s dust and came in last.

  ‘Sorry, Johnno!’ Mason called down from on top of Rosy. ‘I did my best to get her to win, but her heart wasn’t in it!’

  ‘That’s it, Charlie,’ moaned Johnno. ‘I’ll have to sneak Rosy out bush now, while Dad’s busy. Been nice knowing you!’

  I told him not to be stupid, and that I’d think of something. What else were mates for?

  Then I had a brilliant idea! I ran up to the house and borrowed Aunty June’s megaphone. She’d sold so much stuff already, she didn’t need it any more.

  ‘Meet Roseeey!’ I yelled into the megaphone. ‘The only two-humped camel in Australia. But wait, there’s more! She’s a royal two-humped camel. That’s right, she was imported from the desert sands of a far-off foreign country! Only five bucks to have your picture taken with a royal camel, you can’t say fairer than that!’

  Johnno was shocked. ‘That’s not true, Charlie!’

  But when he saw how many people were willing to pay for a photo, he grabbed the megaphone and turned himself into the world’s biggest liar. We made fifty bucks in twenty minutes.

  ‘I’ll take that for safekeeping, boys,’ said Uncle Mick. He stuffed our money into his mo
ney bag. ‘You’re a chip off the old block, Johnno. A royal camel, ay? Don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. Rosy stays!’

  I am embarrassed to say this (embarrassed for Johnno, not me), but my best mate cried.

  Dad blasted away on his megaphone. ‘The Long Race, ladies and gentlemen, is long. Four kilometres long, to be exact.’

  There were fifteen entries this time, and the camels were all edgy and ready to go.

  But before Dad could give the signal to start the race, Spike turned up.

  Spike was running as fast as he could. He had the same brown leather bag from the day before between his teeth.

  Chasing behind him were the two blokes who owned the bag.

  The pup zigzagged between the camels at top speed. The camels lurched sideways, threw their riders, and then tore off into the bush. But not Bluey and Good-time Boy. They just stood there at the starting line, waiting for their riders to give them the signal to go.

  I dived after Spike and grabbed him before he could cause any more trouble.

  ‘Give us our bag!’ yelled the taller bloke.

  I pulled the bag out of Spike’s mouth and passed it to the man.

  Just then, some things fell out of the bag, onto the ground. One of them was a chain with a small gold-nugget pendant.

  I picked it up. ‘This is Granny Mary’s necklace!’ I said.

  The men took off. But a couple of tourists realised what was happening. They tripped the men up and held them down.

  Constable Andrews and Sergeant Scott wandered over from the sidelines.

  ‘I’ll take that,’ said Constable Andrews, grabbing the leather bag. Then he bent down and picked up a ring. ‘I wonder whose this is!’ he said.

  Sergeant Scott gave the two blokes a stern look. ‘Time we had a word!’ he said.

  ‘Crumbs, Charlie,’ said Johnno. ‘You and Spike are heroes!’

  Would Mum let me keep Spike now?

  Johnno, Spike and me went with Dad to help round up the runaway camels. By the time the job was done, it was too late for another race. No one complained. They said it was the most exciting carnival they’d ever been to.

  When we got back to the house, Aunty June called me over. ‘You’ve worked hard, Charlie,’ she said, ‘so we’ve chucked in a bit of extra pay.’