Chapter FOUR

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‘Oh heck, the mud fling!’ said Remy, the small screen in his hand a brightly glowing reminder of the plan that he and Lewis had been hatching for weeks. Timing was critical; the Jones's wouldn’t be in their sights so perfectly until the next term break.

He looked from his phone to the visitors. Miranda was tugging at the swanndri. She thrust a hand down the neck and under her arm and gave it a good long scratch, whilst Giles draped the duvet more comfortably around his shoulders and secured it with the large plastic clip that held Remy’s unfinished homework sheets together. Maths and social studies tumbled to the floor.

Revenge would have to wait. He stabbed reply.

BIG PROB HRE TLK2UL8R

The phone rang immediately; the theme to Avatar jangling awkwardly in the room. Remy hit the answer button. The voice at the other end was desperate. ‘You gotta come Remy, they’ve found out!’ There was a jeering laugh somewhere behind Lewis’s plea and the phone went dead.

‘Oh crap’ said Remy and gave the handset a shake as if that would bring Lewis back. His mate was in trouble; he had to get to the lookout. What else could he do? Maybe the gorillas could help?

He looked at Miranda twisting this way and that whilst peering into his small bedroom mirror, and at Giles in his feather down cape, and doubted it.

His mother’s voice cut through his indecision. ‘Remy, have you got my smock?’

‘Quick!’ said Remy, turning Miranda away from the mirror and pushing her towards the window. ‘You two, go. I’ll meet you outside behind the garage.’ They looked blankly at him. ‘That green building out there,’ he said, pointing.

‘I’m not climbing out of that,’ said Miranda, ‘I’ll do myself a mischief. Giles, old bean, activate the molecular disintegrator, pronto!’

‘Righto Wingco,’ said Giles and pointed at the window. It shimmered in the gloom of Remy’s bedroom and the window frame appeared to buckle and bend. The wallpaper either side of the frame blurred as Miranda and Giles stepped through the bending space into the light of the garden outside. There was no sound of breaking glass; just the surprised tweet of a sparrow interrupted.

The haze cleared and the window firmed back into a perfectly formed wood and glass frame, in the exact shape of two large departing gorillas. They looked back at Remy. ‘Oops,’ mouthed Giles and shook his finger, then minutely inspected the nail as Miranda headed off towards the garage.

The door handle on his bedroom door began to turn. Remy grabbed a curtain in each hand and furiously dragged them over the window as his mother opened the door.

'‘God, it smells like a monkey’s armpit in here,’ she said and strode over to where Remy stood in front of his curtains, ‘you need a bit of fresh air!’

'‘Leave it, Mum!’ shouted Remy, barring her way. She backed off a little and looked at him curiously. A tiny bead of moisture erupted from his forehead and started a descent down his nose. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. He stood his ground.

‘Are you feeling alright? You look a bit feverish.’

Remy opened his mouth to say he was perfectly fine when a thump from outside stopped the words in his throat.

‘What was that?’ said his mother, her head turned to one side locating the noise, the mum radar on full alert. Remy kicked the wallboard behind him with his bare heel.

‘It’s me, I’ve got this twitch,’ and threw in another kick for good measure. ‘I think I must have slept on it funny in the tent last night.’

‘First your nose, now your leg. Soon you’ll be humming when you eat. You’re just like your father.’ She put her hands on her hips and studied him. Remy sweated, kicked and jerked.‘I think you need a day in bed,’

‘But Mum, it’s the holidays!’

‘Nice for some. Your father can look after you, seeing as he’s nothing better to do. I’m off to work,’ she said, glancing around the chaotic room. ‘Ah, there it is.’ She grabbed the pink smock and shoved it into her shoulder bag. ‘And when I get home, you’d better have tidied this room. Sick or not.’

As soon as she’d stalked out of the room, Remy spun around and yanked the curtains open, leaping back as he came face to face with Giles’s nose pressed up against the glass. The ape smiled and the window fogged up, a large crescent of gorilla breath.

‘Sorry to bother you old chap, but Miranda’s having a spot of bother with a four legged vertebrate.’

‘A what?’

‘A small hairy carnivore.’

‘Sorry?’

‘This,’ said Giles and showed Remy the palm of his hand. There was a clearing in the pink centre, devoid of wrinkles and bumps, and on it Remy could see a very clear image of the neighbour’s bull terrier.

‘Tiger!’

‘I beg to differ,’ said Giles. ‘According to the assembilator, it’s a totally different sort of wild animal.’

‘No,’ said Remy, ‘Tiger is next door’s pet.’ Giles looked doubtful.

‘Oh, just come on!’ said Remy, climbing out the window and pushing Giles toward the sound of a dog going bananas. Tiger was jumping like a zulu warrior when they reached the back of the garage. He growled and twisted in the air, landing each time with a clack of toenails on the concrete path as he tried in vain to propel himself higher. Miranda waved from the roof; Queen Kong in a bush shirt.

‘Tiger, heel!’ The dog turned and bared his teeth at Remy.

‘Just a moment!’ said Giles, ‘I think I’ve got it. It’s a dog isn’t it?’

Remy nodded, one eye on the front door of the house. It was opening.

‘Don’t forget to put the chicken on at four,’ came Mum’s voice, ‘if you can be bothered.’ Her back headed out the door as she issued orders to the interior. Pretty soon she’d turn around.

‘Get down’ he whispered fiercely at Miranda. She shook her head and pointed at the frothing dog. There was nothing for it. Remy took a deep breath and launched himself in the tackle of his life at the animal. He closed his arms around its solid barrel body, felt the saliva strings slap his forehead, smelt the meaty breath and closed his eyes, preparing to embrace Tiger’s teeth as they tumbled towards the ground. But Remy felt nothing. He opened his eyes; the animal was in his arms, stiff and unmoving. He let Tiger drop and the dog clattered to the path. It lay in a frozen jumping pose, lips pulled back in a snarl, the whites of its eyes showing.

‘Bingo,’ said Giles lowering his finger, ‘just needed the right bumf to key in the disabler.’

‘You’ve killed him!’ said Remy, aghast.

‘No he hasn’t,‘ Miranda said, jumping down from the roof and landing surprisingly lightly on her large feet. ‘He’ll be as right as rain when …’

Remy groaned. ‘Don’t tell me, the un-timer?’

The front door slammed and Remy’s mother started striding towards the car parked in their driveway. There was never any room in the garage; it was so full of unpacked boxes from previous moves. She stopped and dug around in her bag.

‘Come on, come on,’ breathed Remy. He had to get to Lewis.

His mother pulled out the car keys, stuffing a bit of trailing pink fabric back, and in what seemed like the longest moment in the universe, looked at her hand, turning it this way and that, a strange look on her face. The early sun caught the jewellery on her finger; it glinted and winked in the light. The stone in the very centre of one ring soaked up the rays and shone brilliantly and alluringly, bright ruby red. She frowned at it, tugged the two bands off her finger in an angry movement and threw them into the depths of her bag, then yanked open the car door.

As the old Toyota spluttered into life and reversed out of his day, Remy surveyed the frozen bull terrier, the bizarrely-costumed aliens and his newly sculpted bedroom window. He folded his arms resolutely.

‘Right you guys, we’re doing things my way.’

Making their way around the back street that led up to the bush track, the two gorillas raised an eyebrow or two from passersby. Remy just smiled and waved. An elderly lady stopped them and pushed a $5 note into the empty paint tin Giles carried. Its hastily-drawn packing box label appealed with the message: ‘Save the Mountain Gorillas.’

‘What a wonderfully enterprising young man you are,’ she said, reaching up and tugging Giles’ ear. ‘So real looking too!’

‘Steady on,’ said Giles. The old lady chuckled and patted his arm. ‘Aren’t you adorable?’

Miranda snorted. The woman rummaged in her bag, pulled out a disposal camera and handed it to Remy.

‘Do you mind?’ she said squeezing herself up against Giles, taking his hairy paw in her wrinkled one and smiling broadly. Miranda tapped her foot.

‘I’ve been carrying that old thing around ever since my granddaughter’s graduation. About three years. There are still a few shots left on it.’ She grabbed Miranda’s hand and pulled her into frame. Remy figured it wouldn’t be developed anytime soon and they needed to get a move on. He pointed the camera and clicked. The old lady popped it back into her handbag with a satisfied smile.

‘Who knows, the paper might be interested in this, it would be good publicity for your cause. My son’s the editor, you know.’

As they watched her walk down the street, Remy tried not to think about the consequences of a picture in the paper - him, with two oddly-dressed gorillas, on a day he was supposed to be sick in bed.

‘Was that an image recording device you pointed at us?’ said Giles.

‘A camera, yes,’ said Remy, starting to head up to the green belt where Lewis, the flinger and the entire Jones Gang were waiting.

‘Golly,’ said Miranda, ‘I just hope our tentacles don’t show up then.’

 

 

 

 

- Illustration by Gavin Bishop