Read Pick Your Poison Page 11


  ‘I’d like to remind you that you were the one who came running over here asking if it was true,’ said Clancy.

  ‘That’s different; I always believe this kinda thing – it’s exciting.’

  ‘It’s exciting to you that someone wants to kill one of your closest and dearest friends?’ said Clancy.

  ‘Nah, not actually,’ said Elliot, giving him a friendly thump. ‘The idea of it is exciting, not the reality. Though that said, would you leave me your pogo stick in your will?’

  ‘I don’t have a will.’

  ‘So that’s a no?’

  ‘You can have it now if you want it so much, it’s not exactly the most useful thing I’ve ever owned.’

  ‘Thanks man,’ said Elliot, ‘how can I ever repay you?’ He clearly meant it as a joke, but Clancy wasn’t going to let the offer go so easily.

  ‘There is something actually,’ said Clancy. ‘Teach me to railslide on my skateboard.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Elliot. ‘You got elbow pads? You’re going to fall a lot.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Clancy.

  ‘Well OK then,’ said Elliot.

  ‘By the way,’ said Ruby, ‘that Taste Twister product we were talking about? A kid was asking for it in the store, but no one seems to be able to find it and no one knows what it is.’

  ‘I told you, it’s a drink,’ said Elliot.

  ‘So why don’t they come out and say it’s a drink?’ said Ruby.

  ‘They’re holding back because they want you to figure it out for yourself,’ said Clancy.

  ‘What?’ said Ruby. ‘Why would they do that? They’re an advertising company – they want you to go and buy it, not waste time trying to figure out whether it’s a drink or a candy.’

  ‘That’s what you think,’ said Clancy, ‘but I tell you, I once read about this company that made super high-quality jeans using special Japanese denim. They didn’t want to simply sell their jeans and just gradually creep into the jeans market, they wanted to become the number one most desired jeans brand out there. So they never did any advertising, didn’t have a logo, or anything. And they were never in ordinary stores – a shipment of jeans would just turn up with a sales assistant in an empty lot, like a flash sale. You just had to be in the know. It’s called a –’ he thought for a second – ‘a secret brand, that’s it.’

  ‘Where did you even read that?’ asked Elliot.

  ‘In this marketing magazine I picked up in the dentist’s office,’ said Clancy. ‘The point is, this jeans company, they didn’t want to sell the most pairs, they wanted to have everybody talking about their brand.’

  ‘What was it called?’ asked Elliot.

  ‘I don’t remember,’ said Clancy.

  ‘So I guess it didn’t work,’ said Elliot.

  ‘That’s not my point, duh brain,’ said Clancy, ‘my point is …’ But Elliot had started laughing, never a good thing if you were halfway through a story or arguing a point – his laughter was infectious.

  ‘My point,’ said Clancy trying to make his voice heard, ‘is even if it didn’t work for those jeans people, it is a kind of marketing strategy – get everyone talking about it and by the time you release the product onto the wider market everyone knows what it is and everyone wants it.’

  But no one was listening any more and Elliot was by now gasping for breath, lying on the sidewalk.

  ‘Oh forget it,’ said Clancy. ‘I’m heading home.’

  He started walking off.

  ‘See you tomorrow Clance!’ called Ruby.

  ‘I’m not in school tomorrow,’ shouted Clancy. ‘On the upside, I get to miss French, but on the downside I have to go to this dumb photoshoot with my dad.’

  ‘You win some, you lose some,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Hey, you wanna meet after dinner tonight?’ shouted Clancy. ‘I’ll have the low-down on the Explorer Awards line-up.’

  ‘Sure,’ shouted Ruby. ‘I’ll meet you up the tree.’

  ‘Are you likely to be late?’ asked Clancy.

  ‘I promise I’ll be there by 8pm, not one second later.’

  RUBY HAD TO STOP OFF ON THE WAY BACK FROM SCHOOL to pick up her new glasses from the optometrist on Longacre. She had been looking forward to trying them – her old pair were more than a little cranky – so rather than wait until she reached home, Ruby took them from their case and put them on.

  ‘Cool,’ she said, looking at her reflection in a shop window, ‘very cool.’ She turned the corner onto Oakwood and immediately wished to goodness that she had taken the bus right to her door.

  ‘Oh, you have to be kidding,’ muttered Ruby, for there was Del Lasco standing outside Sunny’s Diner, and in the distance walking towards her with her gang of girls was Vapona Begwell.

  RUBY: ‘You can’t be serious.’

  DEL: ‘Just go on home Ruby, this is between me and Bugwart.’

  RUBY: ‘You have your hand all bandaged up Del, are you nuts?’

  DEL: ‘I can take her with or without a left hand. I figure I could punch her lights out if I had both my hands tied behind my back.’

  RUBY: ‘Oh really, that I’d like to see.’

  DEL: ‘Well, hang around and you will.’

  RUBY: ‘No one’s going be hanging around, Del, because you’re coming with me.’

  Ruby began pushing Del towards the bus stop.

  RUBY: ‘I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, we are going to catch the bus to Amster and we are going to grab ourselves a milkshake (you can pay if you insist) and we are going to have a nice little sit down and chat about your strange compulsion to get smacked in the face.’

  DEL: ‘Look Rube, I appreciate your concern, but I think you should go home.’

  But it was too late for that. Vapona Begwell and her gang had just crossed the road.

  ‘Jeepers Del,’ hissed Ruby.

  ‘Oh that’s nice, Lasco,’ said Vapona. ‘I see you have your little sidekick with you – she can watch me beat the pulp out of you.’

  Why do I have to be wearing a stupid dress and a pair of dumb clogs today of all days? was what Ruby was thinking.

  ‘Look at you Redfort, dressed up all like a dolly,’ jeered Gemma Melamare. ‘Off to a children’s party?’

  ‘She looks like a bumble bee,’ said a heavy-set girl.

  ‘Is that the best insult you got?’ said Ruby.

  ‘What do you expect Rube?’ said Del. ‘Melamare’s probably wondering why she wasn’t invited.’

  ‘Redfort, you’re gonna wish you were at a little tea party playing pass the parcel,’ said Vapona.

  ‘You have to be kidding, Bugwart,’ jeered Del. ‘You’re not even gonna get near Redfort, she’ll have you flat on your backside before you can cry for Mommy.’

  ‘Is that right?’ said Vapona.

  ‘You know it is,’ said Del. ‘Your crew are gonna be so busy begging for mercy that they won’t be able to peel you off the floor.’

  ‘Shut your trap would you Del,’ hissed Ruby. ‘There are four of them, all of them bigger than me, and I’m planning on getting out of here alive.’

  But it was too late for running. Vapona lunged at Del and missed, but then the tall girl who seemed to do nothing but chew gum landed a punch square on Del’s jaw.

  That did it. Del lashed out at the tall girl, socking her one in the arm. ‘Ow!’ screamed the girl, and Del saw her chance, running at Vapona, knocking her off her feet, and the two of them tumbled into the heavy-set girl with the short hair. Gemma Melamare yanked Ruby’s hair and in doing so knocked off Ruby’s new glasses – they clattered to the sidewalk.

  Ruby dropped to her knees and felt about, looking for her specs, the world now out of focus. All she could see were blurry limbs moving violently this way and that. Uncomfortable noises, biffs, thwacks, squeals and curses.

  ‘Ouch!’ shouted Ruby as she felt something, a foot maybe, colliding with her nose. She staggered to her feet and doubled her efforts to pull her hot-headed friend from a ball of fists.
This was not immediately possible, and though Ruby was a lot tougher than her small size suggested, she just couldn’t seem to propel Del from the fight. She was aware of being shoved against a trashcan and she was aware of the smell of the garbage as it spilled across the sidewalk. There was a cracking sound as wood split, or was it her head, it could have been her head, it certainly felt like it – though it was in fact a small maple tree.

  She half saw a bottle roll across the sidewalk, but where were her glasses? This thought was followed almost immediately by a sound almost exactly like the sound of glasses being crunched underfoot. Rats, thought Ruby.

  Everything became a blur then, and who knows what would have happened had it not been for the sound of a nearing police siren, which sent the kids running in all directions. Ruby, hampered both by her inability to see clearly and her fancy clogs, was the last one standing. There was not a whole lot of sense running at this point, too late for that, and in any case she would have to abandon her footwear and then the cop in question would no doubt track her down using the Cinderella method, which would be humiliating, to say the least. So instead she waited coolly for the car door to open and the cop to brandish his badge.

  She would bluff it out.

  ‘HEY RUBY, WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON HERE?’ said a familiar voice.

  Ruby could not believe her dumb luck: the law enforcement officer was Sheriff Bridges, a friendly acquaintance of her parents and a man not easily bluffed.

  ‘Dropped my glasses,’ said Ruby.

  The sheriff looked at the sidewalk, reached down and picked up the mangled frames of what had been Ruby’s new eyewear. ‘So how did that happen?’ he asked.

  ‘The wind sorta blew ’em right off my face and then this whole crowd of kids stormed out of nowhere, guess they trampled them.’

  ‘From what I could see,’ said the sheriff, ‘there seemed to be some kinda fist fight going on.’

  ‘Really?’ said Ruby. ‘Well, that would explain a lot.’ She held up her specs. ‘These are pretty much goners, I would guess.’

  Sheriff Bridges nodded. ‘That would be my assessment.’ He didn’t say anything for a moment or two, just let tumbleweed blow through the silence. ‘So I guess those kids must have been causing quite a rumpus to break this little maple tree in two?’

  Ruby nodded. He’s not going to like that, she thought.

  ‘Trash everywhere,’ he tutted, picking up a glass bottle, on the label a shape. It was blurry to Ruby’s eyes, but it seemed to be a face, maybe a face with something curly winding out of it. The sheriff righted the trashcan and dropped the bottle into it. ‘Now that’s not fair on this fine community, those kids really didn’t oughta have done that.’

  Ruby was beginning to feel uneasy. Where was he going with this, and if it was somewhere uncomfortable then could he hurry it up?

  ‘So Ruby, you want me to drop you somewhere? The doctors for instance?’

  ‘Why?’ asked Ruby. ‘Why would I want to go to the doctors?’

  ‘You seem to have a pretty good nosebleed going there, maybe it should be checked out.’

  Darn you Melamare, thought Ruby.

  The sheriff sighed. ‘Come on kid, let me drive you home, get Mrs Digby to ice that for you.’

  The Redfort housekeeper merely tutted when she opened the door to find Ruby standing on the front step next to Sheriff Bridges.

  ‘Child,’ she said, ‘what scrape have you got yourself into and who are you thinking of blaming?’ Mrs Digby had taken care of Ruby since she was an hour old and she honestly believed nothing ‘the child’ did could ever surprise her.

  I’ve seen it all and then some, was the sort of thing Mrs Digby was fond of saying.

  ‘Whatever it is,’ said the sheriff, ‘this little lady isn’t about to spill the beans.’

  Mrs Digby looked heavenwards. ‘I’ve told her before Sheriff – save yourself and save everyone else a whole host of trouble.’

  The sheriff nodded. ‘Whilst I understand the code of honour, I regret to tell you, someone’s got to take the fall, and since you are the only visible contender, Ruby, looks like it’s you.’

  ‘You arresting me?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. But there’s going to be some community service in your future, Ruby, I gotta be clear about that.’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘I’m not gonna whine about it or anything, but you do know this whole incident had nothing to do with me?’

  ‘I believe you Ruby, but if you aren’t prepared to give me names so I can sort this whole thing out fair and square then I got no choice – trees get broke in two, trash gets scattered, it’s not fair on folks if something isn’t done to put things right. So, you going to name names?’

  ‘Like I said, I didn’t see much on account of my glasses getting broke.’

  ‘OK, then.’ He wished them both good day, explained that he would be in touch with Brant and Sabina, and then went on his way.

  ‘Just perfect,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Only got yourself to blame,’ said Mrs Digby. She sat Ruby down at the kitchen table and gave her a dishcloth full of ice to hold against her bloody nose. The bleeding soon stopped but the swelling wasn’t going to disappear before her mother and father returned home.

  ‘They’re gonna be mad,’ said Ruby.

  ‘They’re going to be mad,’ agreed Mrs Digby, handing Ruby a mug of tea. ‘Your parents aren’t ones to suffer social disgrace lying down.’

  ‘This is hardly social disgrace,’ countered Ruby, ‘just a casual disagreement.’

  Mrs Digby looked at the note that the sheriff had handed her. ‘Destruction of public property, littering of the neighbourhood … I’d say it was the very thing that would send your mother and father into an early grave.’

  ‘Mrs Digby, you’re being dramatic.’

  Mrs Digby put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re not one to get in fights, so what got you into this one?’ she asked.

  Ruby said nothing.

  ‘No doubt it was that Del Lasco,’ said the housekeeper.

  Ruby said nothing.

  ‘She could make a saint grow horns and sprout a forked tail, that one.’

  ‘It wasn’t her fault,’ said Ruby, though what she was thinking was, Del, you’re a numbskull.

  ‘You’re the one that’s going to get punished,’ continued Mrs Digby.

  ‘You win some, you lose some,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Well, you’re going to be losing out tomorrow night,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Your father won’t be taking you to that explorers thingummyjig, you can be certain of that!’

  ‘I know he’ll be mad at first, but he’ll come round,’ said Ruby.

  But she was wrong about that.

  DINNER THAT EVENING WAS AN UNCOMFORTABLE MEAL.

  ‘Ruby, what were you thinking?’ said her mother over and over.

  ‘She wasn’t thinking,’ said her father, ‘that’s just the problem.’

  Ruby was keeping quiet.

  ‘Last month you practically killed yourself on a skateboard, this month you want to get your head knocked off in a senseless fight.’

  ‘Two totally different situations,’ said Ruby.

  ‘And your new glasses!’ exclaimed her mother.

  ‘Are you looking to kill yourself or kill someone else?’ said her father.

  ‘I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  ‘If you are not responsible then who is?’ asked her father.

  ‘I really couldn’t say,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Will she get community service?’ said her mother.

  ‘It seems likely,’ said her father.

  Sabina suddenly looked alarmed. ‘Do you think they’ll make her wear one of those orange boilersuits?’

  ‘If they do, they do,’ said her father.

  ‘Orange is such an unforgiving colour,’ said her mother.

  ‘You know I can’t abide fighting, Ruby,’ said Brant Redfort.

  ‘I’ve seen you watch the boxing,’ sai
d Ruby.

  ‘That’s utterly different,’ said her mother. ‘There’s a referee and there’s towels.’

  ‘So if I had had a towel it would have been OK with you?’

  Fortunately her father wasn’t listening, he was on a roll. ‘Fighting and spreading trash all over the place, I mean, really.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed her mother, ‘this town is knee-deep in garbage already. I mean, if you must fight then avoid knocking into the garbage cans,’ she paused as she let the picture take hold in her mind’s eye, ‘and the bacteria involved, it just makes me shudder.’

  Brant looked at his wife concernedly. ‘The point is, honey, she shouldn’t fight, period, she’s been told. Fighting is not a solution to anything.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Sabina, ‘and littering just makes it 150% less of a solution.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ said her father. ‘I mean, after what happened all those years ago … I thought you would have learnt your lesson, I thought we had agreed. You made a promise.’

  ‘And I kept it. I wasn’t fighting,’ said Ruby, ‘I don’t fight. I didn’t land a single punch, not even a pinch.’

  Brant Redfort stood up. ‘The Explorer Awards, you can forget them. I mean Ruby … I just don’t know,’ then he left the room.

  She opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Instead, Ruby got up from the table and took her dish into the kitchen. She was surprised to see Hitch there, she hadn’t heard him come in, yet there he was polishing a pair of black shoes, shoes so shiny you could use them for a looking glass.

  ‘Do you use those for spy work?’ she asked.

  ‘You never do know when you’re going to need to have something reflected back at you,’ replied Hitch. He paused. ‘You OK kid?’

  Ruby nodded.

  HITCH: ‘Your dad sounds pretty mad. I’ve never heard your folks go off at the deep end like that.’

  RUBY: ‘They don’t like social embarrassment.’

  HITCH: ‘Who does?’

  RUBY: ‘Plus a tree got damaged, my dad’s a nature lover.’

  Hitch continued to shine the shoes and Ruby stacked her plate in the dishwasher.

  HITCH: ‘Doesn’t sound like he’s too keen on fighting either.’