Kids in books: Trailblazers

Author: Elizabeth Pulford

Illustrator: John Bennett

Publisher: Shortland Publications, $7.80

Age group: 10-12 years


It's Miss Soames's crazy plan that starts it all. Starts turning my best friend into my worst enemy. That and the new girl, Duana O'Neill.

Joel and I are walking home from school, talking about Miss Soames's latest idea. She wants us to help some kids whose families lost their homes because of a flash flood. She's got this brilliant plan about the school doing this sponsored walk-a-thon and raising lots of money.

"But I hate walking," moans Joel.

"Don't you want to help save those kids?" I ask.

"Yeah. But I'm not doing anything to save Tracy Duke. She's too weird."

He's right. Tracy Duke is a bit strange. I don't know why, but she's always staring at something as though it's going to disappear for some reason. And that's not all. She's always the first one to put her hand up whenever Miss Soames wants something done.

"We're not going to be saving us," I explain. "It's for the kids who had that flood they've been talking about on the news." I kick at a stone on the footpath. "Besides, we don't want Room Three to win."

Joel makes a sad face. "They're going to win anyway."

He's right, I know that. The whole world knows that Room Three always wins everything. Room Three always makes the most money when we do this kind of stuff. But, still, you've got to hope. There's bound to be a first time they don't win something.

Joel interrupts my thoughts.

"Do you know how many kids were in that flood?" Joel asks.

"No."

"Then how are we going to know how far we've got to walk, if we don't know how many kids we need to save?"

Joel's always thinking of things like that. He's really smart, especially at maths and computers. He's going to be an inventor when he grows up. Last month, he made an aluminium can smasher. When he tried it out on a pile of empty cans, it landed on his foot. His foot had to be x-rayed. Nothing was broken, but he got a huge purple bruise. Even though Joel's my best friend, I have to say that he's totally hopeless at anything that has to do with sports.

My best subject is table tennis. But Miss Soames told me table tennis doesn't count as a school subject. Miss Soames said it has to be something like reading or writing. After table tennis, the next best thing I do is imitating animals. Once when I was pretending to be a dog, I even had Miss Soames fooled for a while. Until some of the kids in Room Three gave me away. I had to stay in at lunchtime and put away library books.

"I don't know how walking is supposed to help anyone. It'll probably kill me," grumbles Joel. "Nine and a half is too young to die!"

Joel and I are the same age. He moved here two years ago. We became friends right away. Then we discovered that we had the same birthday -- the eighth of October. I thought we might be twins, and that's why we're good at different things. He's got the smart part of my brain, and I've got the sports part of his. But Mum put a stop to that idea. She told me that when I was born, there was definitely only one baby.

"A walk-a-thon sounds mega boring," complains Joel.

I think for a second and then say, "Why don't you drop your can smasher on your foot again? Then Miss Soames couldn't make you go on the walk. Not if your toes are broken."

"I can't. Dad locked it up. And he locked up his tools, too."

"How are you going to do your inventing?"

Joel shrugs. Then, after a minute, he says, "Maybe Miss Soames would let me be the counting person. She's got to have one."

"What? You mean counting the money?"

"Yeah. And the kilometres. Stuff like that."

I don't like to say it, but I don't think Joel's got much of a chance. Miss Soames likes to do everything herself. "She might," I say doubtfully.

Miss Soames is a very big person with short barbed-wire hair and little lips. If she gives you a squeeze around the shoulders when you've done something good, you can feel your bones starting to crumble. Most of the time she's OK, but when she's angry she shakes like a volcano made out of jelly.

Joel sighs long and loud. "It's stupid! We're going to have to walk the whole trail ten hundred times to beat Room Three."

"Yeah. I know."

We both walk slowly, side by side, up Dee Street. At the far end is Wangs Supermarket. Mum and Dad work there. I turn to Joel. "Do you want some bubblegum?"

Joel's face brightens. "OK."