Canyon Chaos Read Online Free Page B

today. Or yesterday. Or the day before that. In fact, Jimmy hadn’t seen Grandpa for days. He’d spoken to him through the shed door. He’d left cups of tea on the doorstep. He’d stood outside and listened to the banging and clanking as Grandpa worked on his racer. It was the first thing Jimmy heard in the morning and the last thing he heard at night. It couldn’t be long before the neighbours started complaining.
    Jimmy was thrilled that his grandpa was building him a robot racer. But he was also a bit worried: a bit worried that Grandpa hadn’t seen daylight for days, a bit worried that he was going to wake up and find it had all been a strange dream...and a lot worried about driving a robot racer.
    The day before, Grandpa’s taxi had disappeared. In the morning it had been parked outside the house as usual. But that afternoon, when he’d got back from school, the taxi was gone. He guessed Grandpa had sold it to pay for the racer.
    What if Grandpa does all this work and spends all our money building an incredible robot and I turn out to be a useless driver? Jimmy wondered. What if I crash? What if I come last?
    It all made him feel a bit sick.
    * * *
    When he got to school that morning, the first thing Jimmy saw was Horace Pelly in the yard, talking loudly to his friends.
    “The engineers at NASA are working very hard on my racer,” announced Horace. “My dad’s told them it’s only a week and three days until the qualifying race and it’s got to be ready in time. My dad says he doesn’t care what it costs as long as it’s the best robot racer the world has ever seen. They’re putting in all kinds of extras. I’ve got a rotograbber and jet-thrusters just like Crusher and lots and lots of other amazing gadgets, but they’re so top secret I’m not allowed to talk about them.”
    Jimmy wandered past, trying not to look interested.
    “Hey, Jimmy,” called Horace’s sneaky, smug voice behind him. Jimmy stopped and turned round. “Come over here,” said Horace.
    Jimmy froze, his freckly face glowing scarlet as it always did when he was feeling nervous. “Why?” he asked.
    “I want to tell you about my robot racer,” said Horace.
    Jimmy shuffled over. “I know about your racer,” he said. “I heard you the first time.”
    “Well!” huffed Horace. “I thought you’d be interested. But I suppose it must be very disappointing for you. I know I’d be gutted if I was too poor to buy my own robot and enter the race.” He chuckled to himself.
    Jimmy wanted to say something. He wanted to say, “My grandpa’s building my racer. He invented the world’s first robot and would have been a world-famous robotics expert if his friend, Lord Leadpipe, hadn’t stolen the idea and made trillions of pounds out of it.” But he didn’t. He didn’t say a word.
    “Anyway,” said Horace, turning back to the admiring faces gathered around him, “let me tell you a little bit more about my racer. My dad thought it should be green, but I said no, it’s got be black. Shiny metallic black. With chrome trim and leather—”
    The bell rang. Jimmy and Horace and everyone else wandered into school, Horace still chattering away about his racer.
    “All right, Jimmy?” said Max as they sat down for registration.
    Jimmy nodded. He tried to think of something to say, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the qualifying race – and every time he thought about it, his stomach fluttered and his brain did a somersault.
    After registration, Jimmy tried to concentrate on his maths. Up at the front of the class, the teacher was writing out complicated sums on the board and saying something about long division and square roots. But all Jimmy could hear was Horace boasting at the next table.
    “Do you know there are hundreds of qualifying races,” Horace was saying. “They’re taking place in the United Kingdom, France, America, Germany, Japan, Australia – all over the world, all at the same time, with the fastest in