Dirt Bomb by Fleur Beale Page B

was crunch time. To hell with it. Something else would come up. ‘Same old load of nothing.’
    ‘Tough,’ he said. He didn’t mention the C word.
    Gramps did though. He came racing into my room about ten minutes after I hung up from Buzz. ‘Have you talked to Buzz?’ he demanded. ‘When do you start?’
    I gave it to him straight from both barrels. ‘Gramps, I’ll do it, but I’m gunna do it my own way. In my own time too. So give it a rest, will you.’
    He didn’t say, You disappoint me, Jake, but I can recognise a disappointed look when I see one. Stuff it. It was my life.
    In the morning he was up and cooking early. Kidneys and bacon, because he knew I couldn’t stand kidneys. He made sure I didn’t get any bacon either, because he chopped it up into little bits and mixed it in with the kidneys. He chomped through it, a big grin on his face. Even Speck the traitor dealt to a couple of kidneys. Mum ate hers and went, ‘Yum! This is so good.’ But she smiled at me like she wasn’t disappointed in me. I loaded my plate with weet-bix and sneaked a look at Gramps. Maybe he hadn’t told her. I ate and left before anyone could tell me to clean up the kitchen.
    At last Robbie turned up. I kept half an eye onhim as we rode, suspecting he’d be dreamier than ever now that his head was in love-land, and every so often I’d picture him leaping about in the car, trying to get away from the jet of stinky red water. For the first time it occurred to me that the trick would only be good once.
    I formulated a plan. Robbie would be the one for the chop. He deserved it anyway, the loved-up puppy.
    We met up with Buzz and belted on up to the car paddock. ‘Who’s first?’ Buzz asked.
    ‘Paper scissors rock,’ Robbie said.
    I shook my head. ‘You start, bro. I need to talk to Buzz about milking.’
    They looked stunned, but Robbie didn’t argue. He hot-footed it up the paddock to jump in the car.
    Buzz stared at me. ‘You’re really going to do milking?’
    I shrugged. ‘I might have to. Not yet though. I just wanted to make Robbie go first.’
    Buzz’s eyes sharpened. ‘Why? There’s a reason for this?’
    I grinned. ‘Keep watching. All will be revealed.’
    We watched Robbie slide into the car. I held my breath — would it still work? What if …? We heard the engine start.
    ‘Yaooow! Shit!’ He got the engine switched off faster than he’d ever moved in his life. We could see him sitting there shaking his head, his arms going like egg-beaters as he bashed at his face to get the water out of his eyes. Excellent. I held my breath — would he give it another go? I so hoped he would.
    Buzz was looking thoughtful. ‘You wouldn’t know how come the window washer seems to be working all of a sudden?’
    ‘Haven’t a clue,’ I said, managing to keep most of the laughter buttoned up inside.
    Yes! Robbie started the car again. This time he was smart enough to shove his hand over the nozzle, but the pressure must have cleared the passenger washer which just happened to be angled right at his mouth. His howls floated down to us on the summer breeze.
    ‘He’s leaping around in there like something’s biting him,’ Buzz said.
    ‘Nah, he’s trying to get out,’ I said, giving up on trying to hold back the laughter. Old Robbie was hanging onto the edge of the roof, trying to pull himself out of range of the jets of water.
    Buzz shaded his eyes, squinting at the circus in front of us. ‘It could have been a good move to turn the engine off, I’d have thought.’
    It hurt I was laughing so much. Robbie’s legs were flailing all over the inside of the car, then he just fell in a heap on the ground. That car was going to stink.
    ‘Impressive swearing,’ Buzz said. He was laughing and frowning at the same time. ‘So what did you do?’
    ‘Give it a go,’ I said. ‘Nothing like finding out for yourself.’
    Buzz watched Robbie striding back down the paddock. ‘Not me. I’m all for learning from the