Just Crazy (15 page)

‘No!' I yell as the ladder tips backwards and I go crashing into the garden.

I hear the girls laughing hysterically. I push the ladder off and struggle to my feet, just in time to see Eve running down the driveway.

‘Eve!' I yell.

She looks up at me, laughs and keeps running.

I run after her but she's already rounding the corner at the bottom of the hill.

I have to catch her. There's a busy intersection at the bottom of that hill. It's really dangerous. And I should know. I nearly got killed going through it in a pram once.

I see Jemima's pink bicycle lying on the lawn.

I don't really like the idea of riding a tiny pink girl's bike down the hill, but it's my only hope.

I pick up the bike, jump on it and start pedalling as hard as I can. My knees are practically hitting my chin. I feel like an idiot.

‘Nice bike, mate!' yells a kid from the side of the road. ‘Pink really suits ya!'

This is embarrassing. My face is burning. I just hope Lisa Mackney doesn't see me.

Despite how awkward the bike is to ride I'm gaining on Eve. I draw level and then swing the bike around in front of her and skid to a stop.

‘Gotcha!' I say, grabbing her arm.

But she pushes me away with her other hand. I lose my balance on the bike and fall over.

She runs back up the hill.

I pick myself and the bike up, and limp back up the hill, dragging the bike behind me.

I get back to the house. I'm completely puffed, my leg hurts and Eve is nowhere to be seen.

I open the front door and walk in.

I can hear screaming.

It's coming from the lounge room.

I can't believe what I'm seeing.

Jemima is hanging onto the overhead fan and swinging around.

I've got to hand it to her. Even I've never thought of doing that.

Beside her there is a stack of furniture — a stool on top of a chair on top of the glass-topped coffee table — and on top of the swaying stack is Eve. She's poised, her arms outstretched, trying to grab onto the fan as well.

‘Don't do it!' I yell, diving towards her. ‘You'll break it!'

Too late.

Eve jumps. She misses the fan and ends up holding onto Jemima's waist.

I go crashing into the stack of furniture. It collapses around me. The chair falls onto the coffee table and smashes the glass.

Jemima is swinging around on the fan, with Eve hanging off her.

‘Wheee!' screams Eve. ‘This is fun!'

I run underneath them to try and pull Eve off. I grab her legs, but she won't let go.

There's a cracking noise.

Eve screams.

Jemima screams.

I scream and watch in horror as the fan is wrenched from the ceiling.

The girls come crashing down on top of me.

Without thinking, I put my arms around them and roll us all out of the way.

The fan crashes down onto the carpet, right where we were just lying. The lounge room is covered in white dust and rubble.

These girls are really out of control.

I've got to stop them before they wreck the whole house.

But how?

They won't listen to me. They only behave in front of adults.

That's it!

I have to disguise myself as an adult.

And I've got just the thing.

If you don't stop misbehaving right now I'm going to go and tell Mr Paddywhack!' I yell.

‘Who's that?' they say in unison.

‘He's a very scary man!' I say. ‘And he hates naughty children. He's going to make you behave yourselves!'

‘He sounds stupid,' says Jemima.

‘All right,' I say. ‘That does it! I'm going to get Mr Paddywhack right now!'

Mr Paddywhack is this crazy character I
made up for a school concert last term. I dressed up in a white lab coat, a wig made out of the top of an old mop, a yellow hard hat and a diving mask, and I held a tennis racquet in each hand. It was funny because all the little kids were really scared of me — they thought I was going to whack them with my racquets. That's how I came up with the name.

I go up to my room. My costume is still sitting at the bottom of my wardrobe.

I put on the lab coat, the mop wig, the yellow hard hat and the diving mask.

I get two tennis racquets from the hall cupboard. I'm not really going to hit them of course. I'm just going to give them a fright.

I come barrelling down the stairs like a madman waving the racquets above my head.

Jemima and Eve are jumping on the couch.

‘I SMELL TWO NAUGHTY CHILDREN!' I yell. ‘AND I'M GOING TO WHACK THEM!'

‘No you're not,' says Jemima, studying my face closely.

‘OH YES I AM!' I yell.

‘No you're not,' says Jemima. ‘You're not even real. You're just Andy dressed up in a stupid wig and hat.'

‘I'M MR PADDYWHACK!' I bellow.

‘Where's Andy then?' says Jemima.

‘He's . . . he's . . .' I say. I didn't expect this question.

‘You don't know where he is,' says Jemima, ‘
because you're
Andy!'

Jemima jumps from the couch and grabs the racquets out of my hand. I try to get them back but she's too fast. She hands one to Eve.

‘Whack him!' she says.

Eve whacks me in the leg with the bat.

‘Ouch!' I yell.

Jemima whacks me on the bum.

‘Take that, Mr Paddywhack!' she squeals.

Eve whacks me on the foot with the edge of the racquet.

I'm getting out of here. I can't take any more.

I start running.

They chase me.

I run out of the lounge room, into the kitchen and down the hall. But I can't shake them. They're hot on my heels. I run back into the lounge room, through the kitchen and out into the hall again. I run around and around, trying to get away from them. They're maniacs.

I run so fast that I almost lap them. It's hard to tell who's chasing who.

‘COME HERE!' I roar.

The girls look over their shoulders, startled to see me so close. They squeal. I lean forward and snatch the racquets off them.

Fantastic! For the first time today something has gone my way!

‘NOW I'VE GOT YOU,' I yell, as we run down the hallway. ‘PREPARE FOR A WHACKING!'

‘Andy! What on earth do you think you're doing?'

Mum is standing in front of us.

When did she get home? I didn't hear her come in.

‘Help!' screams Jemima.

‘Help!' screams Eve.

They run to Mum and hug her legs.

‘Save us!' screams Jemima. ‘Andy's gone crazy!'

‘I haven't gone crazy,' I say. ‘They have!'

‘What do you mean by dressing up and scaring the girls like this?' says Mum, her arms around them, trying to comfort them. ‘I ask you to look after them and I come home and find you chasing them and threatening to hit them with tennis racquets!'

"They
were chasing
me!'
I say.

I can see Mum looking around the lounge room, taking in the destruction. The stool and the chair lying on top of the broken coffee table, the wrecked fan, and the chunks of ceiling all over the floor.