One Dead Seagull Read Online Free

Whenwelivedin T ennysonStreetweusedtogointoDad ’ sshedandbuild stuff.Nowwe’veonlygotoneofthosestupidlittlesheds justbigenoughforabusted lawnmowe r . Thedoor ’ s
fallingoffanditstinkslikecat ’ spissbecausethe V elos’ tabbyusesitasadunn y .
    ‘IgotthisjobatThompson ’ s...youknow...mysolicitor? Y eah.He ’ sanallrightbloke.Givesmeabeerona
Fridayafternoon,whenIworkforhim.Anywa y ,heasked ifIcoulddosomebrickpavingafterIfinishedreplacing thebargeboardsonthehouseandItold
him Icould. W ouldyougivemeahandintheholidays?’
    IrememberedMarsCoveandtoldhimIwouldwork withhimanywa y . Idon ’ tknowwhyIdidthat.Mykneewas jigglingandIcouldn ’ tstopit.IaskedDadabout
thesort ofworkhe’dwantmetodoandhewentintooneofhis long-windedexplanationsaboutbrickpaving:
shifting sand, cutting bricks,andmaybeusingthebrick
sa w . It soundedawesome.Icouldn ’ t imaginewhatabricksaw
wouldlooklike—maybeacircularsawwithreallyhard teethorsomethinglikethat.Dadthentoldmeasto r y aboutafishing trip hewenton
with Auntie Patand Carolynon Port Phillip Ba y .Theyhired aboatfrom MordiallocandDadcaught aboutfiftyfish—flathead,
snapperandga r fish—andCarolyncaughtafishingrod thathadfallenoutofsomeone ’ sboat.Hookeditoffthe bottomwithherline.Theycleaned itupanditworkslike anewone.Freak y .
    DadhangsoutwithPat(she ’ snotreallymyauntie)and herdaughterCarolynmorethanhehangsoutwithme. DadusedtoworkwithPat ’ shusbandRobert,butRobert fellinsexwithateenagerhemetatthepub.Robertleft ChisholmwithherandlastDadheardfromhimhewas
livingwiththegirlandmanaging
anudistresortin Queensland.Dadnevermentionedhername.Sowhen DadgetssickofsittinginhiscaravanwatchingpayT V ,he goesovertobethe‘manaroundthehouse’forPatand Carolyn.Hereckonsthere ’ snothinginitbutIreckonhe
thinksPat ’ sfairgame.Justwishhe’dtakemeoutonafew
ofthefishingtrips.Iget
onallrightwithCarolyn,sheis in yeartenwithmeatChisholmHigh— T en W aratah, MrsKneebone ’ shomegroup.Onceyougetpastallthe
acne,she ’ sgotaprettygoodpersonalit y .
     
    ThatFridaymorning Deninformed methattherewere
onlytwoweeksofschoolleftuntiltheSeptemberholidays. Ilovethewaytheholidayscreepuplikethat.Idon ’ thave
timetobeboredwhenschoolison.Ionlygetbored
duringtheholidays.MumgoestoworkandIeatallthe
two-minutenoodlesinthehouseandwatchtell y .Mum
getsang r ywith me,doesthe
shoppingandthe cycle repeats.ButtheseholidaysI’llbebus y .
    GrizwaswaitinginthebreezewayforDenand he pushedhimhardintothelockers.MyheartjumpedandI wantedtorun.PickickedmeintheankleasIwenttobolt past andIdroppedhardontheconcretefloo r .
My backpackshotupandontothetopofmyhead.Something hard—maybemypencil
case—cracked into the bottomofmyskull.
    ‘ Y afriggin’ idiot,’
Dengrowledholding hisarm.Griz grabbedhimbythefront
ofhisvestandslammedhim intothelockersagain.
    ‘ Y ouoweme,’hehissedrightinDen ’ sface.
    ‘Whatfor?’Densqueaked.
    ‘ Y ou’retheprickwhoputglueonmyseat.Stuffeda pairofmybestjeansandrootedmyseat.’
    ‘Oi!Breakitupyoutwo.’For thefirsttimeinmylife,I washappytohearMrJohnson ’ svoice.
    ‘ T wohundredbucks.BynextFrida y ,’Grizsaidashe droppedDenonhisfeet.
    ‘What ’ sgoingon,Shane?’
    ‘Justalittle
disagreement,youkno w ,MrJohnson.All fixedno w .’
    ‘Bothofyouinmyoffice.No w .Therestofyouoffto
homeroomsplease.’
    PickickedmeagainasheleftandMrJohnsondidn ’ t seeit.Ithurt likehell;acorke r ,inthemeatofmyleft
thigh.IlimpedofftohomeroomandDenappearedfive minuteslate r .HeapologisedtoMrsLeaveyforbeinglate
andfloppeddownnexttome,smiling.Myskinwasstill crawlingandthestupidbastardwassmiling.
    ‘Whathappened?’Iwhispered.
    ‘Nothing.Couldn ’ tdoanythingtome,he ’ sshit-scared ofGriz. Saidtosortoutourdifferencesoutsideofschool hours.Thatwascomforting...’
    Hemusthavesmokedtwentysmokesthatda y .
     
     
    I dinke d De n hom e agai n tha t nigh t bu t w e waite d until Gri z an d th e moron s h e hang s ou t wit h ha d left . H e was
bustin g t o g o t o th e dunn y whe n w e go t t o hi s place. Ker r y ha d com