The Adventures of Stunt Boy and His Amazing Wonder Dog Blindfold (8 page)

14

He's a dog that does stunts

W
ord spread around the circus like a vomiting virus around a classroom that I had food poisoning. All afternoon Stoked cast and crew dropped by to ask if I was okay. Mellie Bellie and Zoe performed a two-handed Reiki session on my stomach whilst doing some strange chanting; Hayley brought me peppermint tea, while Sue dropped in with a disgusting herbal medicine that made me gag.

But I couldn't tell them I had lied to cover up the fact that I was sneaking a peek at some very important documents from the bank. I didn't want to show our hand and reveal that we knew exactly what Ginger Styles was up to. We didn't know who else might be in on it.

Things hit a low point when Leonie turned up with her medicine bag. It was all I needed to be spiked in the guts like Fat Fred when he was sword swallowing. Any time anyone had an injury or was sick, Leonie was ready to stick them with her acupuncture needles. So there I was, lying in my caravan with twelve needles sticking into me, in my stomach, below my knees, in my wrists and one needle right in the centre of my forehead – and I wasn't even sick!

If that wasn't bad enough, Ginger Styles also decided that if I had a stomach bug I shouldn't visit my dad in case I passed it on. So I felt triple awful. The more everyone fussed over me, the sicker I felt, until I really did have a bad tummy ache and had to go to bed for two hours with a hot water bottle.

When I emerged from the caravan it was nearly showtime and I went backstage feeling like a total fraud as the staff gathered for the briefing to discuss tonight's show before we did our warm-up exercises.

‘How's our sick little guy?' asked Muscly Mike, ruffling my hair.

‘Better thanks,' I said, making my voice sick and croaky. I'd told everyone that I had food poisoning, so I don't know why I was faking a sore throat.

‘You're a brave little trouper,' said Fat Fred, his chin getting all dimpled. ‘A legend.'

‘Thanks, Fat Fred, but I wouldn't go that far, I just had a little tummy ache.'

‘Your dad would be so proud,' said Biker Pete, making me feel even worse again. My dad would be furious at how many lies I'd been telling lately.

I didn't eat anything for dinner in the mess otherwise people might have sussed out that I wasn't really sick. Once the show was underway everyone was busy, so I could relax a little. The motorbike performance was right in the middle of the show, just after the insects on stilts and the spiders from Mars (which was the aerial team dressed as spiders doing a flying trapeze act).

I sat on top of the jump, which is normally my favourite place in the whole world because I can watch the audience from there. Usually all I could see was row after row of heads, but since Dad had been in hospital and Barry Chesterley had made his kids go free offer, there was now just row after row of empty orange seats. I hadn't heard back from Caleb either. Anyway, why would he care about my family's circus?

Pikelet stood in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand. His thunderous voice bounced up to me: ‘He's a boy with a sore tummy, but he won't let a little bit of food poisoning slow him down! No, sir! He's a boy with the heart of a lion! He's a boy who knows no fear! He's a boy who does stunts! You know who I'm talking about. Give it up for the one, the only, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys,' continued Pikelet in what could have been the longest introduction ever. I just wanted him to get on with it because I was getting a guilt ache again. ‘. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Stunt Boy! Make some noise!'

But it's hard to make a whole lot of noise when less than a quarter of the seats are full, so it sounded more like a few hands clapping and a few ‘Woo-hoos!' from the cast.

I did a big swooping wave and flipped down the visor, the spotlight trained upon me, hot and bright. I felt the adrenaline pumping through my entire body, wiping every thought out of my mind apart from the jump routine I was about to undertake.

I revved the throttle feeling the engine roar beneath me as I crouched forward on the bike, squeezing the seat with my legs. Then I went roaring down the metallic ramp. As I went flying over the lip, I punched the throttle, propelling the bike forward to perform a Rodeo Air. I shifted my entire body, which in turn allowed my legs to go flying up behind me. And then I clicked my heels together before sitting on the bike again and landing safely on the other side.

Beneath the roar of the engine I could hear the audience cheering as I performed a rapid sequence of Surfer (that's standing on the bike seat like you're surfing a wave), Tsunami (doing a headstand in front of the handlebars when airborne), Surfer, Tsunami.

I finished off by flying down the ramp and doing a wheelie. Then I waited in the middle of the ring under a bright yellow spotlight as the crowd cheered.

‘He's a dog that needs no introduction, but he's going to get one anyway!' boomed Pikelet, laughing at his own joke, even though he used that line at every show. ‘Boys, girls, ladies and gents, he's a dog that does stunts. I want to hear your loudest and biggest cheer for Blindfold the Wonder Dog.'

Blindfold came running out from the side of the circus ring, wearing a supercool pair of leather goggles like he was a fighter pilot in the First World War. But he wasn't wearing the goggles to look cool. He had to wear them for the same reason I had to wear a visor in my crash helmet – to keep all the dust and stuff out of his eyes. Blindfold did a little spin in a circle, like he was chasing his tail in the centre of the ring.

I jumped off my bike and Blindfold and I shook hands before we did three backflips and three front flips in perfectly coordinated timing. Blindfold then did a trick where he walked on his hind legs as if he was human. I stood at the front of the ring and Blindfold took a running jump and landed on my shoulders. Then I held his legs and walked over to the bike.

Blindfold did a backflip off my shoulders onto the back of my bike, putting his paws in the air. I ran away from the bike and stood with two hands in the air, then triple somersaulted, landing in a straddle on the seat. That was a pretty tricky move, especially as I was getting bigger and so were my nuts. I had to be super careful now as I didn't want crushed nuts, or, to crush Blindfold.

Blindfold stood on his hind legs behind me. I did a full circuit of the ring as Blindfold used his tail to wave at everybody. His front paws rested on my shoulders as we did wheelies (balancing on the back wheel) and stoppies (balancing on the front wheel) before Blindfold jumped on the front of my bike, balancing on the handlebars as I chucked a three-sixty, spinning the back wheels and creating a lot of smoke. I liked getting lost in that smoke. It was as though everything around me, and all my problems, disappeared.

When I came out of the spin, the audience were clapping and cheering but instead of the usual feeling of excitement and adrenaline that comes from putting on a great show, I felt flat and worried about how long Stoked Circus would actually be around for. I hated letting my dad down.

After the performance, it was hard to get to sleep because my head was spinning with everything that happened that day. Do you know that feeling when your body is really, really tired but your mind is absolutely wanting to chat to you about the whole day and you've just got to lie there and listen to it?

This is what my mind was saying to me and what I was saying back to my mind. I'll try to remember everything but I was worn out from snooping, lying, having to drink disgusting herbs, getting acupuncture and then performing, that this is the absolute best I can remember of the conversation:

M
y mind
: Hey, Stunt Boy.

Me:
I don't want to talk, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep, go away.

M
y mind
:
Feeling guilty, Stunt?

Me
: I don't feel guilty.

My mind
: Yes, you do!

Me
:
Okay, I do. I feel terrible about lying to everyone. They were making out I was a hero because I performed when I was sick.

My mind
:
You're getting good at lying, but you're not as good as Benny yet.

Me:
I wonder what Benny is doing?

My mind:
He's probably asleep. Or reading his science books with his secret torch. Anyway, you shouldn't have to feel guilty.

Me:
I know, but I do.

My mind:
I know. We can be idiots sometimes.

Me:
But what if I've got it all wrong? What if Dad's accident really was an accident and Ginger Styles is just trying to help? What if we're making the whole thing up?

My mind:
I wish I had the answers for you, Stunt. You were brave not crying when you had to have acupuncture.

Me:
It didn't hurt at all but needles are freaky, especially the one in the middle of my head. I wish I hadn't lied, then I would have got to see Dad.

My mind:
Jem said Dad looked better today. He had some colour in his cheeks, she said. The doctor said his broken limbs are almost all healed.

Me
:
Yeah, but I still felt bad because he would have missed my voice. He might think I don't care.

My mind:
He knows you love him.

Me:
Do you think Caleb read my email yet? It's been nearly a week. He's probably forgotten that he ever met me.

My mind:
He's probably just busy being an international stunt star. You were awesome today, by the way. Hey, how loud does Blindfold snore? No wonder you can't get to sleep. It's not me keeping you up! It's Blindfold!

Me:
I know. He always takes up three quarters of the bed. Ouch, stop kicking me, Blindfold. Look – his legs are moving! I think he's dreaming that he's running. I hope he's not having a nightmare about Chesterley saying he'd shoot him and trying to hit him with the bull hook.

My mind:
He's okay.

Me:
I can't wait for Benny to come over tomorrow so we can do stuff that doesn't involve lying. It's too stressful. I've missed him.

My mind:
Me too. Night, Stunt.

Then I fell asleep but I can't remember any of my dreams.

15

Let there be an email from Caleb

T
oday was a much better day than yesterday, although it started off awesome, then got terrible and then got awesome again. So where do I start? It was Sunday, which meant that I got to sleep in, which was good because I was exhausted from pretending to be sick yesterday and my mind chatting to me for half the night. I didn't wake up until 10.30 am.

There was no sign in the caravan of Jem. I had some breakfast and went into Dad's room to see if Caleb had replied.

Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he got loads of emails from kids like me asking for help.

I sat down on Dad's red leather swivel chair and held onto the silver handles and spun around as the computer booted up, my mind chanting, ‘Let there be an email from Caleb, let there be an email from Caleb.

‘Let there be an email from Caleb,' said my mind one last time and I clicked open the inbox and guess what? There was an email from Caleb right there in my inbox!

I held my breath as I opened it, hoping that it would be good news.

Stunt Boy,

Young sir! Apologies for taking a few days to reply. I was travelling and wasn't checking my emails. How's it hanging, mini stuntman? Of course, I remember you! How could I forget a kid named Stunt? I wish my name was Stunt but you got there first, so I'll have to deal with being plain old Caleb! Another reason I can't forget you is that you blew my mind with how well you ride. I wasn't as good as you at your age. Your sister is pretty hot as well. I mean that hula-hooping fire act is totally radical.

Total commiserations about your dad, man. I did hear about his accident. That totally sucks. As I told you, when I was a five-year-old kid my mum took me to see Stoked and it changed my life. It got me into bikes and acrobatics.

Every town should have a stunt circus like yours. I can't let one of the few remaining stunt circuses go out of business! So I'm coming to Stoked! Stoked? You should be. My manager is going nuts saying that I shouldn't be playing little stunt circuses like yours, but it's my holiday, so I told him that I was going to do whatever I liked.

I got my driver's licence earlier this year, so I can drive my own truck down with my bikes, gear and stuff. You can have me every night for two weeks. I arrive next week. I'm pumped for a good time. Just riding and hanging; eating and chilling and saving Stoked Stunt Circus! Remember, I'm on holidays, so don't expect me to get up before 11 am. Are you cool with that?

See you then! Caleb
JJJ

PS: say hey to your sister for me!!!!!!!

‘Wooohooooo!' I yelled and started spinning around in circles on the chair until I was dizzy. Then I re-read the email to make sure I had it right. I did have it right! Caleb Calloway was coming to Stoked for two whole weeks.

‘Caleb's coming to Stoked, Caleb's coming to Stoked,' I chanted as I did a kind of hula dance around the caravan. Blindfold looked at me like I was mad. I couldn't wait to tell Jem and I knew exactly where she'd be – over at the big top, working on a new trick on the trapeze, or bending her body as if she was a snake eating its own head.

Jem is one of those people that my dad says has discipline. That means that she will work on her act and her studies without someone saying, ‘Come on, time for practise, Jem', or ‘Time to hit the books'. She does stuff without ever having to be asked. She even practises on Sundays.

My sister and I are not very alike in that department. Jem gets upset that she has to nag me and says stuff like, ‘Stunt, I'm not your mum, I'm your sister. Please don't make me nag you to study/practise/clean your room/eat your dinner/take a shower,' and I tell her to shut up and not to nag me, but I'm secretly glad that she does or else I might forget to do everything.

After getting Caleb's email, I didn't even have breakfast, brush my teeth or change out of my pyjamas with the blue motorbikes on them. I just ran outside. When you live at a circus it isn't odd to find people out and about in their PJs. It's perfectly acceptable to wear whatever you want, whenever you want. Our cast likes to dress up in bright shiny crazy colours, in leotards, unitards, catsuits, tights, tutus, leathers, feathers, corsets, suspenders, tracksuits, overalls, waistcoats, kilts, top hats, braces, sequins, lace, headdresses, things that glitter and things that sparkle, even when it's not showtime.

I ran into the big top with Blindfold yapping at my heels and looked up to the red and yellow peak to see Mellie Bellie swinging high in the air in a cloud swing, which is a rope that hangs down in the shape of a V. It looked as if she didn't have a care in the world.

‘Mellie, hey, where's Jem?' I yelled as her hands let go of the rope and her feet caught the swing, so she hung upside down like a bat.

‘Hey, Stunt!' she replied. ‘Ginger just called Jem into the office. Something is going down. Ginger had a face like thunder.'

‘What happened?' I said craning my neck backwards so I was looking into her upside-down eyes.

‘Jem and I were practising on the double trapeze and Ginger said, “Jemima May Stoked, I'd like a word with you!” When your sister said she'd be down in half an hour, Ginger yelled, “Now!”'

Who was Ginger Styles to be calling my sister Jemima May Stoked? Only Dad got to call Jem Jemima May Stoked when she was in trouble. I was sick of Ginger Styles thinking this was her circus not my dad's. I didn't remember any stories of Ginger Style's granddad starting Stoked. The more angry I became, the more I forgot about my big news that Caleb Calloway was coming. I just wanted to find Ginger Styles and tell her not to call my sister Jemima May Stoked.

I didn't even say goodbye to Mellie Bellie, I just turned and ran. But as I was running out through the entrance to the big top I bumped straight into Lefty Blue Eye, who was on his way in.

‘Stunt Boy, we need to have a word,' he said, blocking my way.

‘Can't, busy,' I said. Even if he hadn't made my dad crash, surely, as chief mechanic, he should have known that my dad's motorbike had been tampered with.

‘Now, son,' he said.

‘I'm not your son, Lefty Blue Eye!'

‘No, you're not, Stunt. I've been very patient with the way you've been treating me lately because Evan is in hospital and you're probably worried about him and the like, but you can't spread rumours that I was responsible,' said Lefty, placing a firm hand on my shoulder so I couldn't move.

‘Huh?' I said, confused.

‘I heard you've been telling people that I was seen driving into Barry Chesterley's Circus in my ute when you were OverEast,' he said, scratching his lined face with his grimy nails.

‘Who said I said that?' I protested, my face flushing so it looked as if I was lying even though I wasn't. This was a completely different rumour to the one I heard that Blueberry had seen Lefty. It appeared someone was making up rumours. I'd never said I'd seen Lefty at Chesterley's.

‘I'm not playing the “he said, she said” game because that's how all sorts of rumours get started. I just wanted to tell you to quit spreading lies.'

‘Where were you two Sundays ago anyway?' I said, remembering what Biker Pete and Hayley had said that Blueberry had told them about Lefty going to Barry Chesterley's circus.

‘I don't have to explain to you or anybody else where I was on any given Sunday, but I wasn't at Chesterley's, that's for sure,' he said, his hand starting to dig into my shoulder so it hurt a bit. ‘I've been working here for twenty-eight years and to suggest that I'd be disloyal when your dad is lying in a hospital in a coma . . . well, I'm shocked. You and I used to be best mates, Stunt. Alongside your dad, I taught you everything you know about bikes. I can't believe you'd think I was responsible for your dad's accident.'

I looked into his eyes, the left one being blue and the right being green, to see if I could detect a lie. His eyes were a bit watery and he looked kind of troubled.

I didn't know what to say because I was angry at Lefty Blue Eye; plus I just didn't know who to trust anymore, so I roughly pushed his hand off my shoulder.

‘Whatever,' I said as I ducked past him and made a run for it. When I got to my dad's office, I barged straight on in, just like Ginger Styles had barged into our caravan yesterday. I shouldn't have to knock. It was my dad's office, and my dad had never made me knock once in my entire life.

Ginger Styles was sitting in my dad's chair, looking as if she felt all kinds of comfortable there, and Jem was sitting opposite her.

‘Stunt Boy, have a seat,' Ginger Styles said. ‘I wanted to have a word with you. Your sister and I were just getting to the bottom of why you two felt the need to open a letter addressed to me. Dropping tuna on the letter was a dead giveaway, never mind finding Blindfold's dog hairs. There was even a flea crawling around! You need to give that dog a flea bath!'

‘Because, Ginger Styles, your name is Styles not Stoked,' I said angry as hell, and not taking her up on the invitation to sit down. Ginger Styles did not have the authority to make me sit down! ‘Why shouldn't we know what is going on in our very own family's circus? I'm glad I opened the envelope because now we know exactly what you're up to!'

‘Which is?' said Ginger Styles, her eyebrows arching.

‘You're trying to take over my family's circus while Dad is in hospital. First you got yourself promoted from front of house to manager, now you're trying to buy our circus right from under Dad's nose! You probably want to change the name to Styles Stunt Circus!'

‘I'm buying the circus right from under your dad's nose, am I?' said Ginger Styles, her voice suddenly all shaky. ‘I have been working night and day to try and save this circus and all I get is accusations from you. I have nothing but admiration for your dad and I hate to see him in hospital like this.'

Jem looked really upset.

‘I'm not trying to buy Stoked. I tried personally to borrow money from the bank so they wouldn't close us down,' she continued. ‘I've tried to be kind to you and your sister and all I get is attitude. Anyway, it's too late now. I can't raise the kind of funds we need and your relatives won't help. They want to sell up and put you both in boarding school. I've been trying to keep it from you kids, so as not to worry you. You've got enough to worry about.'

Then Ginger Styles started crying. Big lady cries, with little snorts coming out of her nose and tears messing up her mascara.

I felt really bad because I had made Ginger Styles cry by saying that she was trying to pinch our family's circus from beneath Dad's nose. Maybe I was wrong and she was really trying to help.

Jem walked behind the desk and put her arms around Ginger Styles. ‘I'm sorry, Ginger.'

I was a bit sorry too.

‘I'm sorry I failed you kids and your dad. I did my . . . my .
. .
best,' said Ginger, snuffling her wet snot into Jem's blonde hair. I could see it glistening, which made me feel a bit sick. ‘Stoked is like family to me. I don't want to lose the only family I have.'

That's when I felt triple bad for Ginger Styles. She didn't even have a family.

‘Ginger, please stop crying,' I said, going over to the other side of the desk where Ginger and Jem were hugging. ‘I'm sorry, Ginger. I .
. .'

Then I started crying, which was so weird because I wasn't expecting it – tears just popped right out of my eyes without me even knowing that I was going to cry. Ginger pulled me into the hug and I pulled my head back as far as I could as I didn't want to get snot in my hair like Jem.

Then I remembered why I was looking for Jem in the first place.

‘Jem, Ginger, stop crying!' I said, feeling relieved that by telling my news I could somehow make up for making everybody cry. ‘Caleb Calloway said yes! Caleb Calloway is coming here to be our headliner!'

‘What? Really? Caleb's coming here?' said Jem, flushing red.

‘He's coming to Stoked for two weeks! We don't even have to pay him. He'll be here next week! Every kid will want to come and see Caleb!'

‘What do you mean Caleb Calloway is coming here next week?' said Ginger, snapping back to reality. ‘How? How did you do that?'

‘I just contacted him,' I said proudly. ‘He said he didn't want Stoked to die. He said Dad was his hero!'

‘That's incredible,' said Ginger, shaking her head like I had pulled off the biggest coup in the entire world. ‘We've got to start promoting it. Get all the newspapers and television stations along to do interviews. This will put Stoked back on the map!'

Ginger got her calculator from the top drawer of Dad's desk. I'd never seen someone add up so quickly. Her red fingernails flew over the numbers, making calculations, adding this, subtracting that, finding the percentage of this. Then she broke out into a big smile.

‘If we sold out every night for ten days, plus did some matinee shows, we could get ahead on the debt. We may even just survive!' she said. Ginger Styles was obviously smart when it came to numbers.

From being in a super-bad mood, I was back in a super-good mood again. We spent the next hour coming up with ideas for the show, and then we went to see Dad and I told him about Caleb coming and how we were going to save the circus. Then, as plain as the nose on my dad's face, my dad's face twitched as if he were winking.

‘Did you see that?' I said to Jem and Ginger. ‘Dad winked, I swear!'

Nobody else saw it, but I know I did and that's all that mattered.