Secrets of a Schoolyard Millionaire, page 9
‘Oh no, I have a way better one,’ says Kathy, and before I can object, bank-lady returns with her cheesy smile.
‘Here you go,’ she says, wiggling the card in front of Kathy like it’s dancing. ‘Now, are we going to make a deposit today?’
‘Oh, yes please,’ says Kathy as she plonks the nine thousand cash in front of bank-lady.
‘Wow,’ the bank-lady says, her eyes lighting up just a little. ‘How much do we have here?’
‘Only nine thousand,’ Kathy says, rolling her eyes. I hope she didn’t get that from me. ‘I just sold my Fender signed by The Eagles. I wanted twelve for it, but I was talked down.’
I have no idea what Kathy’s talking about and I’m not sure bank-lady does either, but she seems happy and deposits the money. Before I know it, we’re walking out of the bank, proud owners of a brand new debit card.
‘Show it to me,’ Toby says. Kathy passes him the card. His eyes widen. ‘Ooohhh, I like the colour.’
‘Right?’ says Kathy. I snatch the card.
‘Okay, we have work to do,’ I say, not wanting to waste any more time. ‘You each have your bundles and here’s the BSB and account number. Remember, deposit only one bundle per branch. Use the ATM deposits. We have to fly under the radar. We meet back at Brennan Park at two o’clock. Got it?’
They nod and we all head our separate ways. I’m feeling good. We have a plan and things are starting to work out. I smile to myself as I run my finger over the raised numbers of the debit card. Today is a good day. I've got this.
At two o’clock I head back to Brennan Park to meet Toby and Kathy. It’s crowded – some big event is happening on the far side. I resist the urge to go check it out, and hunt for the others. I finally spot them and head over to tally our work. We’ve managed to deposit a massive $90,000.
‘What now?’ asks Toby.
‘What now?’ I say. ‘Toby, now we can do anything. We can buy anything. The sky’s the limit!’
‘Well, technically ninety thousand dollars is the limit,’ says Kathy and laughs at her own joke. ‘So how do you want to celebrate?’
‘What do you reckon, Toby?’ I say. ‘Ice cream? Pizza? New iPhones?’
Toby shakes his head. ‘I have the perfect idea.’
He drags us towards the crowd of people gathered at the far end of the park. There’s a big tent set up and balloons and umbrellas and best of all … PUPPIES!
‘It’s a fundraiser for the Guide Dogs,’ Toby says. ‘This HAS to be the first thing we do. Pleeeeeease!’
Now, normally I'm pretty careful about how I spend my money, but you should have seen these puppies! Even I couldn’t resist the urge to throw money at them. They were fluffy and golden and tripping all over each other. Then, in another part of the park, the grown-up dogs that were all well behaved and clever were showing how they helped people get around. I don’t know if it was the high of the debit card in my hand or the power of the puppies, but I was sold!
* * *
NO ONE CAN RESIST PUPPIES.
If you ever want to get someone over the line on a deal – bring a puppy. Seriously. No one can say no to a puppy.
* * *
I pass the card to Kathy.
‘How much are we donating?’ she asks.
I look at Toby and his big Chihuahua eyes. I look at the puppies falling over their own feet. And before I can stop the words coming out of my mouth …
‘A thousand.’
‘Woah,’ says Toby. ‘Cool.’
Kathy smiles at me. ‘Someone’s getting soft in their old age.’
‘Maybe,’ I say, and we walk over to the tent to donate our money.
Now, here’s something I didn’t know about giving money to charity. I mean, it’s not something I normally do. But you know … the puppies!
Apparently at these things people donate a couple of dollars, or maybe a hundred if they REALLY like the puppies. It turns out a thousand is kind of a big deal. So next thing, we’re being swamped by people shaking our hands and taking photos. A guy with a big camera lines us up in front of the Guide Dog banner and passes me a puppy, and Kathy’s shaking hands with some man who’s important in the world of puppies. Announcements are being made about donation records being broken, and cheers are being shouted, and I decide it’s time for us to leave before Toby buys one of the dogs.
‘Wow, that was cool. But intense,’ says Toby as we sneak away from the crowd.
‘Yeah, note to self – donating a thousand dollars to charity is not flying under the radar.’
‘Yeah, but it felt good,’ says Kathy, grinning and holding a yellow Guide Dog balloon. ‘I had a great day, kids. Really. Thanks. And if you need me for anything, you know where my Lego house is.’ With that, Kooky Kathy skips off.
‘She’s right, you know,’ says Toby. ‘It was a great day.’
‘And it’s only the beginning, Tobes. Now that we have this baby.’ I dance the pink card in front of Toby’s face just like the bank lady did. Then I stop myself. Not cool, Tess. Not cool.
I have to say, the next couple of weeks are a lot of fun. We can finally spend our money, and boy do we spend! Toby and I take it in turns to decide what we’re going to do with it next. It turns out there are a lot of people you can help with not a lot of money. We buy a goat for a family in Afghanistan. We adopt an orangutan in Borneo. We purchase a bunch of kids’ books online and send them straight to some literacy foundations for underprivileged kids. And here’s the thing that really surprises me: it’s way more fun than shopping for yourself. I know everyone says that doing things for others makes you feel good, but you know what? It actually does.
And it's awesome to have Olivia home. And even more awesome that she's okay. But I've been giving her a lot of space, because she must hate me for the whole Sucker Pop thing. Mum and Dad decided to give her a bit more time off school and she’s been staying in her room a lot. I don’t do her poke time or insulin injections anymore, Dad takes care of all that now. Mum’s gone back to work. She has a new show starting, so she’s working really late nights.
‘Tess! Is Toby staying for dinner?’ Dad yells from downstairs.
‘What is it, Mr Heckleston?’ Toby yells back. We’re in the middle of looking up a charity that builds shelters for homeless people up north.
‘Thursday night – panang curry night!’ comes Dad’s voice. ‘And it’s Alik, Toby. Stop with the Mister already!’
Toby loves Dad’s curry, so of course he stays.
We sit down for dinner and Dad fills our bowls. Olivia’s reading at the table, but Dad doesn’t tell her not to anymore. Not since the hospital.
‘So Mum’s going to miss dinner a bit next week, with the show opening and all,’ Dad says apologetically. I don’t know why. We’re all used to it.
‘What’s the show, Mr Alik?’ asks Toby.
‘Just Alik. Um, it’s Peter Pan.’
‘Again?’ says Sash. ‘Haven’t they done that show like a gazillion times?’
‘Yeah, remember, they did it a few years ago and the girl playing Wendy got all stuck up in the wires,’ says Dane.
I point at him. ‘And you stole the rigging and built Butthead a body harness and hooked him up to the clothesline,’ I laugh. ‘What did you call it?’
‘Dog-Pan!’ Dane says and we all laugh. I still remember Butthead flying around like Superman on the clothesline, yapping at the clothes and running his legs in the air to go faster. ‘He was a natural,’ Dane says. ‘He still barks at the clothesline, wanting to get back up for another go.’
‘Do you guys miss going to the theatre?’ Dad asks. ‘I mean, you used to spend a lot of time there after school, waiting for Mum to finish work.’
‘Nah,’ we all say in unison.
But I’m not sure it’s entirely true. I mean, we did used to have a lot of fun there. We knew that place like our own home. Dane spent hours up in the trusses playing with the rigging and the hoists, working out how they operated. Sash practically lived in the AV booth, toying with the lights and projectors and video screens. I’d be at the ticket counter, counting money, working out the profits and devising ways to increase ticket sales. But that was ages ago. Back when we were little kids. We have better things to do now.
‘Because we could go there sometimes and visit Mum if you wanted to,’ Dad offers.
Olivia lifts her head up from the book. ‘That could be cool,’ she says. ‘If we all went together.’
‘Nah, I’ve gotta work on Butthead’s trailer,’ says Dane.
‘Yeah, Toby and I have stuff to do too,’ I say.
‘And I just don’t want to,’ says Sash as she picks up her half-eaten dinner and dumps it in the bin. ‘I’m going back to my room.’
Olivia sighs and buries her head back into her book. I feel a bit bad, but with her being sick and all it’s probably better that she stays in bed instead of going to that dusty old theatre.
That night there’s a soft tap at my door.
‘Yeah?’
Olivia comes in and perches herself on the side of my bed. I’m working my way through the list on my laptop, so I just let her sit there for a while. After a few dramatic sighs from her, I bite.
‘What do you want, Liv?’
‘Can I help you and Toby with your list?’
I snap my laptop shut and spin around. ‘What do you know about our list?’
Olivia cowers a little and shuffles back on my bed. ‘Nothing really. Except that you have one, and that you’re excited about it, and that it’s all you’ve been talking about for the last few weeks. It seems like a lot of work. Maybe I could help?’
‘Have you been spying on us?’
‘No!’ Olivia says. ‘I live here too, you know. You guys think you’re so secretive and clever, but I know stuff as well.’
‘What do you know?’ I have to be careful here. There’s no way she could know about the money, but if she knows too much about the list … I can’t have her getting involved.
‘Just that I could help,’ she says quietly. ‘With whatever you’re doing. I could, Tess.’
Good. She doesn’t know anything. She just wants to be part of whatever is going on. I have to keep her out of it, for her own good. I don’t like what I’m about to do but …
‘You can’t help, Olivia. You’re just a little kid. And you’re supposed to be getting better. Go back to bed.’
She stands up, her fists clenched by her side.
‘I’m not little! And I’m not sick! You think just ’cos you’re three years older than me that you know everything? Well, you don’t.’
With that, she storms out of my room and slams the door. There’s a niggly feeling of guilt churning in my stomach, but I don’t have time to worry about it now. I need to keep her out of things, and having her angry with me is probably the best way. I hate hurting Liv’s feelings, but it’s better than her actually getting hurt again. Plus, I have other important things to worry about. I have a list to get through!
The next day is full of red flags. Red flags are things that happen that tell you something bad is coming. I Googled it, and it turns out that red flags date way back to 1777, when they were used as a flood warning. Remember how I said to pay attention to that little inside voice? Well, pay attention to red flags too!
RED FLAG NO. 1:
I’m walking to school by myself. I know it’s a no-no but Toby had to go in The Beast because he was bringing some big project to school. I’m walking through Brennan Park and I get this feeling. A creepy feeling on my skin. Like a spider is crawling across the back of my neck. I spin around. There’s no one in the park except me, but I don’t feel alone. In movies people always say they ‘feel like they’re being watched’ but it never really made sense to me. How can you feel someone watching you? Well, this is the feeling I have today. It’s not a great feeling.
RED FLAG NO. 2:
I come out of class at lunchtime and find that someone has tried to open my locker. I always leave my padlock numbers on 1, 2, 3. They’re now on 4, 8, 2. Kids at this school never touch each other’s stuff. The spider feeling comes back even stronger, but I try to shake it off.
RED FLAG NO. 3:
At home, in my room, I look out my bedroom window. My treasure chest is open. Everything has been pulled out of it and lays scattered on the ground. The spider is doing an Irish jig on the back of my neck now. I know what this means, but I don’t want to admit it. I pull the bag out from under my bed and check that all the money’s still there. Safe and sound.
I ignore the little voice. I ignore the red flags. I ignore the spider.
And I head downstairs for Dad’s Friday night paella instead.
Flashback Fridays is on the music channel on TV. ‘What I Like About You’ by The Romantics is playing, so of course Dad is doing his paella dance. Olivia is already in the kitchen with Dad, but she doesn’t even look at me when I come in. Seven-year-olds can really hold a grudge. She’s setting the table and I start to help but she’s unimpressed. As I lay down the cutlery I see the local newspaper lying in the centre of the table with the rest of the mail. There, smack bang on the front page, is a photo of Kathy shaking hands with the guide dog man as she hands over our donation. Underneath is written:
GENEROUS LOCAL THEATRE MANAGER JENNIFER HECKLESTON DONATES $1000 TO GUIDE DOG FUNDRAISER.
I snatch the paper off the table and stuff it under the couch cushion. I turn back to the kitchen. Dad’s attention is fully focused on the paella, and he doesn’t go through the mail until after dinner, so I can safely assume he hasn’t seen it. Plus, it’s common knowledge that nobody ACTUALLY reads the local newspaper. It’s usually full of cat rescues and baking competitions.
I grab the cutlery again and stop. Olivia’s staring at me, her brow furrowed like she’s trying to solve some puzzle. I shake my head and roll my eyes at her. Just leave it alone, Liv.
The paella is great as usual. And after dinner Dad, Dane and I settle in to watch a movie – a typical Heckleston Friday night. Sash is plugged in her room and Olivia doesn’t want to join us. She must still be sulking, because it’s her turn to choose the movie tonight. But since she’s not here, it’s my turn, which is awesome.
I head to the bookcase and flick through the DVDs. Yeah, that’s right. DVDs. We must be the only family on the planet who doesn’t have Apple TV or Netflix or anything from the 21st century, but Dad says until we get all the way through his DVD collection, it’s a waste of money. Dad’s a total movie buff and has a few hundred DVDs, so I don’t see us getting Netflix anytime soon, unfortunately. Good news is, Dad’s got great taste in movies.
I grab The Goonies off the shelf. I’ve seen it before, but I love it. Liv does too, so I know she’ll be bummed she’s missing it. But that’s what she gets for sulking.
* * *
WATCH SOME MOVIES FROM THE 80S.
I know you’re probably rolling your eyes right now. So was I when Dad first forced us into watching these old movies. But they’re seriously so much better. Okay, they have some dodgy special effects and some pretty cheesy lines, but kids were real, actual heroes back in the 80s. They didn’t need adult help or superhero intervention. If there was a problem, they went out and solved it on their own. And their parents didn’t even notice they were missing. Nothing was off limits for kids in the 80s.
* * *
After the movie, I drag myself upstairs. I pause in front of Olivia’s door. Her light is still on and I consider going in and apologising. But I’m too tired and she needs her rest. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I head upstairs, crawl into bed and am asleep before I know it.
I wake in a panic. It’s still dark. I can’t see properly, but I can definitely make out a shape hovering over me. As my eyes adjust and I try to make sense of what’s happening, I recognise the person above me and the spider feeling turns into real, full-blown fear.
‘Where’s my money?’
I go to scream but Scotty’s hand quickly covers my mouth. His face is so close, I can smell his stale cigarette breath as he whispers, ‘Shhhh! Be quiet and no one gets hurt. I just want my money. Where is it?’ His eyes are a terrifying mix of hate and desperation. It’s hard for me to believe this is the same guy who used to toss presents to me over the fence. I try to mumble into his hand.
‘I’m gonna take my hand away but if you make a sound …’ He doesn’t need to finish this sentence. The look in his eyes tells me he’s ready to do anything. He slowly removes his hand and I try my best not to cry.
‘It’s under my bed,’ I whisper. ‘In the gym bag.’
He pokes his finger in my face. ‘Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.’ I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m frozen with fear.
Scotty reaches under the bed and yanks out the bag. He pulls it open.
‘Is this some kind of joke?’ he says, anger boiling to the surface of his voice.
I pry my upper body from the bed and peer over into the bag.
It’s empty.
‘What? I – I swear it was, I …’ I have no idea what to say and that doesn’t happen a lot. ‘Honestly, it was there. It should be there.’
I hear Mum come home. She closes the door and throws her keys on the bench. Scotty pounces, wrapping his hand around my throat.
‘Listen here, you little brat. I want my money back.’
‘It’s supposed to be here,’ I whisper.
‘Well, it’s not, is it? So you’d better find it real quick otherwise you’ll pay. And so will your family. You got it?’
All I can do is nod. Mum’s footsteps are coming up the stairs and, before I know it, Scotty is out the window.
A cool breeze blows through the opening, chilling the sweat on my face. I get up and slam the window closed, locking it.
I allow myself to breathe.
