The Grub Rides Again
by Lock Pollard
Copyright 2013 Lock Pollard
Discover other titles at lockpollard.com
Chapter 1
Marcy Bliss was her name and when I answered the door to find her standing there I felt like I was looking into a new world. A world where all the girls were pretty and made me feel like every day was a Saturday. She had smooth brown skin that was the most beautiful I’d seen. Her long brown hair cascaded around her smooth face and as she flicked it impatiently I smelt apricots and peaches.
I was still staring at her when her eyes hooded over.
‘Are you Michael? I’m Marcy,’ she said.
I continued to stare. I don’t know if it was the smell of her hair or the fact that our family had been travelling for two days non-stop, but I couldn’t open my mouth.
‘Are you Michael?’ she asked impatiently.
Being called Michael was a common mistake. For some reason, when people heard the name Mitchell, they said Michael.
‘Well?’ she said.
‘Sorry. Yes. We just got here.’
‘I know,’ she replied importantly. ‘My mum told me all about you. She said I was to come over and ask if you wanted to come to the shopping centre.’
‘The shops?’
‘Yeah. The big shopping centre down the road. The Westfield. Do you want to come?’
I’d never been to a proper shopping centre, I’d only seen them on TV. Where I’d grown up the only shops had been fifty kilometres away and even then there was only a Woolworths and a small department store.
‘That’s where we hang out. Do you want to come or not?’ she said, flicking her hair. I smelt apricots and peaches again.
‘Let me ask my mum…. Come in,’ I said.
I left the door open and walked through the hallway. It was filled with boxes that still had to be unpacked. I was supposed to be helping Mum unpack.
Dad had already gone to work; it was the first day of his new job. We'd arrived at one am that morning and I’d heard him get up at six am to go to work. I hadn’t been able to sleep and I’d heard him and Mum arguing about where his work boots were. Then they’d woken Suzie, my baby sister up, and she’d started crying. My father had cursed the government, the drought, and the system; then stormed out.
Mum was unpacking a box of pots and pans. She was covered in sweat and her brown hair was all over her face. She didn’t look very pretty, but I knew she was. Last year when our family had gone to the country races, Mum had looked so pretty that Dad had smiled like a clown all day. He’d kept putting his arm around Mum and his hand on my shoulder and saying he was the proudest man in town. That’d been before the drought, the government, and the system had forced us to sell the farm and move to the coast.
‘Mum,’ I said.
‘Yes, dear.’ She didn’t even stop unpacking.
‘Can I go to the shops?’
She must have seen Marcy behind me because she stood up quickly. ‘You must be Marcy, hello.’
‘Hi,’ replied Marcy.
Mum glanced back at me, and I knew she was thinking. Until five minutes ago I didn’t know Marcy, but Mum had told me about her. She was the daughter of Mum’s friend who apparently lived around the corner. Mum had said that she'd introduce me to some new people.
‘Mum is going to come over later,’ said Marcy. ‘She thought you'd be tired from travelling, but since I was going to the shops she thought I could take Michael.’
I waited for Mum to correct her, but to my surprise she didn’t. Perhaps in her tiredness she hadn’t even realised that her own son was being called by a different name.
Mum looked down at the bucket of suds before flicking her eyes back at me. I knew she wanted me to stay and help her look after Suzie, but she’d also promised me that I'd make new friends.
‘The shops?’ she asked.
‘The big Westfield. My friends go down there to hang out,’ Marcy replied.
‘Is it safe?’ Mum asked.
‘Mum!’ I said, and stole a glance at Marcy.
‘Totally,’ Marcy replied.
‘How are you getting there?’ Mum asked.
‘We take the bus.’
Mum glanced around the kitchen. ‘Well, I guess…Let me give you some change for the bus fare and lunch then.’
Once I’d gotten some money and put my shoes on Marcy and I walked down the end of the road to the bus stop. As we arrived the Number 12 shuddered to a halt in front of us. The doors hissed open and we boarded.
‘Return to Queen’s beach,’ Marcy said to the bus driver.
‘I thought we were going to the shops,’ I whispered.
‘Nah, only the nerds go there. We go surfing.’
Marcy took her ticket and got a seat.
The bus driver looked at me. ‘Well, son, where are you going?’
‘Queen’s Beach?’ I said.
I sat down beside Marcy.
‘You can surf, can’t you?’ she asked.
I swallowed.
Surf? I'd never even seen the ocean.
But I wasn’t going to tell her that.
Chapter 2
The beach was the second most beautiful thing I’d ever seen – second to Marcy Bliss. The sand was a golden yellow that shone like gold and the water was so blue I wanted to drink it all. The road ran alongside the beach and between the footpath and the beach there were trees and bushes, I guess to stop the sand blowing onto the road. Marcy walked alongside the row of bushes until she found a group of people sitting under a hedge that had been burrowed out; it was like a wombat’s home. Some surfboards were leaning up against the bushes to form a sort of door into the cave. She pushed one aside and stepped inside like it was her second home.
‘Hey, Kell,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’
Kell looked just like the boys I’d seen on Home and Away. He had straight blonde hair that curved around his face and stopped above his shoulders. In my old school he would have been called a girl. He was only wearing a pair of colourful board shorts and I could see that he was almost as tanned as Marcy.
‘Just hanging,’ he replied and passed his cigarette to her. She took a drag and then gave it back to him. I could feel him inspecting me with inquisitive blue eyes, running them over my no-brand collared shirt.
He glanced at Marcy. ‘Is this your friend?’ he asked.
‘I told you, he’s just moved here. His mum is friends with my mum. Apparently. Although I’ve never met him before. Mum said I have to hang with him.’
‘Cool, what’s your name bro?’
‘Mitchell.’
Kell smiled, showing a row of clean white teeth, just like the people on Home and Away. ‘I’m Kell, this is Steve, and that’s Becky,’ he said as he waved at the other two people. He leaned forward and offered me the cigarette. ‘You wanna’ drag?’
I looked at the smouldering stick. I’d tried it once, but had never understood why anyone wanted to suck down hot air that made you cough.
‘No, thanks,’ I replied.
Kell ran his eyes over me again, finished the cigarette and flicked it into the bush. The burning ember landing on a clump of dried leaves.
‘Man,’ I said and rushed past him.
I stepped on the butt and ground it into the sand.
‘Hey, hey,’ Kell was laughing. ‘Where’s the fire?’
‘There will be if you don’t put them out properly,’ I replied.
‘Nah, man. I’ve been doing that for two years. Never been a fire.’
‘Well, someone left a cigarette burning on old Mister Thompson’s property and it burnt down five hectares of scrub and killed fifty head of cattle.’
Kell looked at Steve. ‘Fift
y what of what,’ he chuckled and Steve burst into laughter. Marcy giggled and covered her mouth, trying not to burst into laughter.
‘Where’d you find him?’ snorted Kell.
‘He’s just moved here from out west. From some station or something,’ she giggled.
‘A train station!’ snorted Steve.
‘Or maybe a bus station,’ added Kell bursting into a giggling fit and rolling around on the floor.
I could feel my face, my neck and my ears burning red; it wasn’t exactly the way I’d imagined meeting new people. Kell stood up and flung his hair back, his head almost hit the top of the leafy cave. ‘I need a surf. This is too funny. Let’s go,’ he said commandingly.
Everyone stood up and we walked out, Kell and Steve grabbed the two surfboards and started running across the sand yelling. I watched them throw the boards onto the water and then jump on them. For a moment they stood upright until their boards lost speed and they fell into the water. They stood up and wrestled each other before jumping on their boards and paddling.
I stood beside Marcy and regretted coming. I should have said no and explained that I had too much unpacking to do, but I’d been mesmerized by her beauty.
‘Are you coming?’ she growled.
She’d taken her shorts and shirt off and was wearing the prettiest, and smallest, bikini I’d ever seen. It was light blue with pink flowers, and looked like a strong wind could blow it off.
‘Um, yeah,’ I replied. I took off my shoes and my shirt and threw them in with the pile of other assorted garments.
Marcy and Becky held hands and skipped down to the water's edge. I followed them, thinking how very different this was to what I was used to.
Kell and Steve were paddling onto a wave and both stood as it formed behind them. Kell flicked his hair and turned the board so it raced along the wave. Steve flailed his arms like a penguin and fell off. But Kell was really good; he was very smooth on the wave and as it died he surfed over the back and dropped onto his board easily so he could paddle back out.
I was impressed.
Marcy yelled something out to him but he ignored her, there were some bigger waves coming. He sat up on the board like he was riding a horse and spun it around quickly. He lay down and started paddling really quickly, then he jumped to his feet, and just like last time, he flicked his hair, crouched down and raced along the wave. He did a big turn at the bottom that sent spray out in front of him and then flew up to the top of the wave. The board rocked on the frothing, white water and he stuck his arms out to try and keep his balance. But he fell off and disappeared.
‘Oh, Kell,’ Marcy shouted.
His head popped up with a big grin on it.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘Course,’ he snorted, and jumped back on his board.
‘Can I have a go?’ she called after him.
‘Ask Steve,’ he hollered back.
Steve didn’t look like Kell. He had red hair and freckly skin, but he was taller than Kell and there was already some red hair sticking out the top of his board shorts. His voice was deep and rough.
‘Hey, Mitchell, do you want a go?’ he asked, pushing his surfboard towards me. I looked at it hesitantly before Marcy and Becky jumped on it and started kicking it out to sea. But Steve was stronger than both of them and he pulled them back.
‘Do you?’ he asked again.
‘I don’t know how to do it,’ I said.
‘It’s easy,’ Marcy said. ‘Just watch Kell. He’s awesome.’
‘Maybe,’ I replied.
‘Here,’ Steve said and tipped the board up so Marcy and Becky fell off. He pushed the board towards me and then playfully pushed Becky’s head under water. She came up spluttering and splashed water back at him.
I grabbed the board and lay on it. It seemed pretty stable. I tried to paddle, just the way Kell had, but a wave came in and knocked me off. I hit the sand and when I got to my knees, the board smacked me in the face.
‘Ouch,’ I cried.
‘Careful,’ Marcy said.
‘Hey, Witchetty Grub,’ Kell yelled as he surfed in beside us and jumped off neatly. ‘Give Marcy the board. I’m teaching her to do a cutback.’
He grabbed the board and passed it to her. They started paddling out and I heard Marcy ask what a witchetty grub was. Kell told her it was a white skinned worm and I looked like one because I had no suntan. My ears burnt as I heard them laughing.
Chapter 3
The first day of school was also the worst day of my life. I was in the same homeroom as Kell, which I thought would be great until the teacher, Mrs Evans, read out the roll. When she came to my name surname she pronounced it incorrectly and then asked me how to pronounce it.
‘It’s pronounced witchetty grub!’ Kell called out before I could correct her.
By morning tea the whole school was calling me Witchetty Grub and at lunchtime Kell realised I was sunburnt and began to call me Barbequed-Witchetty Grub. He thought it was really funny because he wouldn’t eat a raw witchetty grub, but he would eat a cooked one.
I saw Marcy across the playground, although when I went to talk to her she’d disappeared. I searched for her for ten minutes, but I was still finding my way around; it was much bigger than my last school.
Once I got home I went down to Queen’s beach with an old surfboard I’d found in the shed at our new place. Someone had left it behind and although it was old, dirty and cracked, I thought it was the best thing ever. As I walked onto the beach and looked out at the waves rolling in I had visions of magically carving across them to the admiration of all the beach goers.
I spotted Kell and Steve out in the water and ran down enthusiastically. I put the board on the water, jumped on it and began to paddle out. Thankfully the waves were smaller than last time and with a newfound confidence, born from having my own board I was sure that I’d soon be a champion surfer.
As I was paddling out I saw Kell surfing towards me. I waved and shouted a greeting to him.
He didn’t reply, but kept surfing on the wave in my direction. He was coming straight at me; I could see the point of his surfboard; I didn’t know what to do.
His board was going to stab me.
‘Hey, hey,’ I yelled.
‘Get out of the way,’ he screamed back at me.
I tried to sit up and manoeuvre the board like I’d seen him do, but only succeeded in rolling over. He was still coming straight at me and just before I disappeared under the water I saw him jump off his board. When I came up, he grabbed my board and pushed it into shore.
‘This is our break, go somewhere else Witchetty Grub!’
Then he was gone, paddling out to sea.
I swam back to my board, trying not to cry. Storming out of the water I grabbed my clothes and started walking. I walked for about thirty minutes seething with anger; I wished the drought had never happened and we’d never moved here. In my last school I’d been friends with everybody, and nobody had called me names.
At the top of the headland I saw another beach on the other side, it was different to Queen’s Beach. It was much longer and stretched for as far as I could see. The waves appeared bigger too. Maybe it could be my break.
I ran down and dumped my things. Looking out to sea I saw there were only a few people surfing. But it was a long beach and there was plenty of space. I ran into the water excitedly and started paddling out. It was easier than before; I was moving very fast and the waves didn’t seem to be as strong. Maybe this was a better beach.
I decided it was going to be my own break, where I could learn to do a cutback – whatever that was. Then Marcy would want me to teach her.
Suddenly there was a big wave coming towards me; it was bigger than anything I’d ever seen. But that was okay, the bigger the wave the better the surfing. I sat up and tried to turn the board, but something was fighting it, pulling it further out to sea. The wave was coming towards me, sucking up the water in front of it and getting bigge
r. It definitely didn’t look like any of the waves I’d seen at Queen’s Beach.
I slid off my surfboard and tried to swim for shore. I gasped for air and stroked as hard as I could, but my efforts were futile, I was still being pulled out to sea, and into the wave. It picked me up and for a moment it was like my dad was picking me up and giving me a hug. Just like how he wraps his arms all around me and holds me tight.
But this wasn’t a hug.
The wave was lifting me up to spit me out, and two seconds later it threw me down the front. Water splashed over my body as I flipped over and over. I screamed and got a mouthful of water. Then the wave pushed me under, rolling me over like I was a rag doll. I couldn’t fight it; it was trying to pull my arms and legs from their sockets. My head was slammed into the bottom and as I was rolled over and over I tasted the salt water entering my mouth. I tried to stand up, to push off the bottom, but the water was on top of me, holding me down. I was going to drown – and no one knew where I was.
Angrily, I twisted my body until I got my legs under me, and pushed towards the surface with all my strength. I stuck my head through the surface and gasped some air, but I only succeeded in swallowing a mouthful of water as another wave smashed down on top of me. It gripped me tightly and slammed me back into the bottom, knocking the last of the oxygen from my lungs. Part of my mind told me to give up, it was too much, but the other part screamed at me to get to the surface. I grabbed the sand and got my feet underneath me and pushed with all my strength. Thankfully I broke free and breathed heavily, sucking in large lungfulls.
Then I screamed like never before.
It was like looking up from the bottom of a cliff.
I was certain it was the biggest wave ever.
Now I was going to die.
Game over.
Chapter 4
The wave was blocking out the sky – it was a big blue wall of water coming for me. It was going to pick me up, smash me into the bottom, and then roll me over and over until I died. It would never let me go. I screamed as loudly as I could. I don’t know why, nobody could hear me. I felt something grab me under my armpit; maybe it was death, pulling me towards heaven. Whatever it was, it pulled me onto a big yellow surfboard. I tried to resist; I didn’t want to be on a surfboard. I was about to be smashed again. But whoever it was lay half on top of me, and I was squashed between them and the board.