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Just Doomed! Page 6
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Page 6
THE END
Are you ready?
This could be the one!
The salt-shaker spin to break all known salt-shaker spinning records.
I’ve already got it to forty-nine spins without stopping so I’m only one spin away from fifty, which has got to be some sort of world record. Well, at least in this house, anyway.
Not that anyone but me will care.
My parents aren’t even looking.
Dad’s eating his breakfast and Mum’s reading the school newsletter.
Uh-oh. That’s the one full of stuff about Jeremy Smart and his ten-hour, ten-thousand-dollar swim for charity. He’s doing it at our local swimming pool today.
I know exactly what Mum’s going to say next. She’s going to say, ‘That Jeremy Smart is a nice boy, isn’t he?’
How do I know this?
Simple.
It’s easy to know what Mum is going to say because whenever Jeremy Smart’s name is mentioned she starts going on about what a nice boy he is. Which is just one of the many reasons why I hate him.
Mum puts down the newsletter.
‘That Jeremy Smart is a nice boy, isn’t he?’ she says.
(See, I told you!)
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘He’s a very nice boy.’
‘Thoughtful, too,’ she says.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I say. ‘He’s a really thoughtful boy.’
‘Did you know he’s doing a ten-hour swim for charity today?’ she says.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘As a matter of fact, I did.’
‘It says here that’s he’s going to raise ten thousand dollars!’
‘Yes, I know all about it, Mum,’ I say. ‘In fact, we’ve pretty much heard about nothing else at school for the whole last month. And after lunch we all have to go to the pool and cheer him on to the finish. I can hardly wait.’
‘Sounds like somebody’s a little bit jealous,’ says Dad.
‘Who, me?’ I say. ‘Jealous of Jeremy Smart? Whatever gives you that idea? I love Jeremy Smart. Everybody loves Jeremy Smart!’
‘I don’t understand why you have to be like that, Andy,’ says Mum.
‘Like what?’ I say.
‘Like that,’ says Mum. ‘All sarcastic and negative. I bet Jeremy Smart isn’t sarcastic and negative. Why can’t you be more like Jeremy Smart? Why can’t you do something worthwhile with your time instead of just sitting there being sarcastic and negative and spilling salt all over the table?’
‘I’m not just spilling salt all over the table,’ I explain to her for about the millionth time. ‘I’m attempting to set a new world record for the most consecutive spins of a salt shaker! What could be more worthwhile than that?’
‘Ah, let me see,’ says Dad. ‘A ten-hour swim for charity, perhaps?’
I don’t say anything. It’s impossible to argue with people like this. I figure I’ll let the salt shaker do the talking for me. I give it a spin. The biggest spin ever. This will show them, for sure.
The salt shaker flies across the table, smashes into Dad’s plate, loses its lid and releases its contents all over his bacon and eggs.
Oops.
Dad shakes his head wearily.
‘I bet Jeremy Smart wouldn’t wreck his father’s breakfast like that,’ says Mum.
She’s right of course. Jeremy Smart would never wreck his father’s breakfast. Jeremy Smart would never do anything wrong. Because Jeremy Smart is perfect.
In every way.
He not only does charity swims, he does charity runs, charity sausage sizzles, charity readathons and charity 40-hour famines. Oh, yeah, and he’s school captain. And he’s the youngest-ever member of the school council. And last week he won the national spelling bee. And he also kicked the winning goal in the interschool grand final.
Like I said, he’s perfect! Which is another reason why I hate him. Because—as you may already have figured out—I am not perfect.
In any way.
And Jeremy Smart’s existence only helps to draw attention to this fact. If he didn’t exist my life would be so much easier. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll drown in that stupid pool today.
Not that there’s much chance of that happening.
Did I mention that Jeremy is also a qualified surf lifesaver? No? Well he is. Jeremy would never drown. He wouldn’t be able to. He’s too perfect.
But hang on …
I’m not perfect …
Maybe I could drown … and make it look like it was Jeremy’s fault.
That would be so cool! The only problem is that I wouldn’t be alive to enjoy it …
But maybe I could arrange for somebody else to drown …
Or, at least, I could arrange for somebody else to pretend to drown and make it look like it was all Jeremy Smart’s fault …
And then maybe I could even jump in and save them …
Or, at least, make it look like I saved them …
And then I’d be the hero for a change instead of Jeremy Smart!
What a great idea!
In fact, I don’t think it’s going too far to say that it’s a perfect idea.
This might not turn out to be such a terrible afternoon after all.
At school the morning seems to drag on forever.
Our classes are constantly interrupted by announcements about Jeremy’s progress.
Not that I mind.
It gives me plenty of time to finetune my plan for Jeremy’s downfall. Well, the plan itself is simple enough: I get somebody to pretend that Jeremy Smart pushed them into the pool and then I jump in and rescue them. It couldn’t be simpler, really. The difficult part is choosing the right person to be the fake victim of Jeremy’s push.
I could ask Danny but I don’t think he’d be right. He’s too big. It would be better if Jeremy ‘pushed’ somebody smaller than himself into the pool. It will make him look meaner.
Lisa Mackney is smaller than Jeremy, and I’d love to save her, but she would never agree to my plan. She’s one of Jeremy’s biggest fans (which is yet another reason why I hate him).
Which leaves just one person: Corey. He’s in year one and he’s always hanging around me and Danny. Sometimes we get him to run little errands for us and, in return, we offer him protection. Well, as long as his enemies aren’t bigger than us, that is.
So I’ve got my plan.
After lunch the whole school assembles out the front. As if it wasn’t already bad enough that we have to go and watch Jeremy Smart, one of the classes has spent the morning making a giant ‘JEREMY SMART’ banner, which we have to march behind all the way to the swimming pool.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Mr Dobson is leading the procession with a microphone and a portable speaker.
‘Give me a J!’ he yells.
‘J!’ yells the whole school back in unison. Except for me, of course.
They chant out all the rest of the letters of his name and then Mr Dobson yells, ‘What have you got?’ and they all yell back, ‘JEREMY SMART’ and then they start all over again and keep it up nonstop until we get to the pool. People are waving, cars are tooting and trucks are honking … it’s like everybody in the whole world has gone Jeremy Smart mad … well, everybody except me.
Jeremy has been swimming since five o’clock this morning but you wouldn’t know that to look at him. He’s gliding up and down the pool, looking as fresh as if he’d only jumped in five minutes ago.
The teachers organise us into house groups in the grandstand to cheer Jeremy on to his scheduled finish at 3 pm.
Meanwhile, Mr Dobson has switched from school cheerleader to sports commentator and is giving a running commentary on Jeremy’s swim. Not that anyone can really hear him. The noise of the screaming, clapping and foot-stomping in the stands drowns out pretty much everything else.
Honestly! The way everybody is carrying on you’d think nobody had ever done a ten-hour charity swim before.
Even Danny has been sucked into the hysteria. He’s yelling and waving his ar
ms like a maniac, and he hates Jeremy Smart just as much as I do!
I make my way up to him and grab his arm.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I say.
‘Cheering for Jeremy!’ he says.
‘But you don’t even like him,’ I say.
‘Yeah, I know,’ he shrugs, ‘but everyone else is cheering.’
‘That doesn’t make it right,’ I say.
‘But the money he raises goes to charity,’ says Danny.
‘That makes it even worse!’ I yell. ‘Don’t you realise that every time you cheer for Jeremy “I’m so perfect” Smart, you make it harder for the “not so perfect” people like us?’
But Danny’s not listening.
‘Give me a J!’ he yells.
‘J!’ roars the crowd.
I shrug.
Poor Danny. Even he’s caught Jeremy Smart fever.
Looks like it’s up to me now. Well, me and Corey.
Which reminds me … where is Corey?
It takes me a while to locate him in the general mayhem, but eventually I find him underneath the grandstand.
‘Hey, Corey!’ I call.
‘Hi, Andy,’ he says.
‘I’m glad I found you,’ I say. ‘Want to play a game?’
‘Sure!’ says Corey. ‘What’s the game?’
‘I need you to fall into the pool,’ I say.
‘But I can’t swim!’ says Corey.
‘No need to worry,’ I say. ‘Because I’ll be there to dive in and save you. The moment Jeremy finishes his swim and gets out of the water, I want you to rush up and congratulate him. Then I want you to pretend that he pushes you and makes you fall into the pool.’
‘But why?’ says Corey.
‘Because it’s a really fun game. It’s called School Hero and the winner gets to be hero of the school.’
Corey’s eyes light up. ‘Okay,’ he says, ‘but you’ve got to save me, remember. Because I really can’t swim.’
‘Of course I will,’ I say, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘You’re my pal, and what are pals for? Now come with me and get into position—I’ll be standing right behind you so there’s nothing to worry about.’
We head towards the end of the pool that Jeremy will finish at.
Jeremy is just seconds away from completing his swim—well, that’s if the thunderous applause, cheering and foot-stomping of the crowd don’t cause the grandstand to collapse and crumble into the pool on top of him.
Hmmm. Now there’s a happy thought.
Mr Dobson is now so excited that it’s impossible to understand a word he is shouting into his microphone … not that anybody cares. They all just want to see Jeremy Smart finish his epic swim. Well, so do I … though probably not for the same reason.
Jeremy’s mother and father are waiting at the end of the pool. They look so happy you’d think the ten thousand dollars their son has raised was going directly into their bank account. They’re standing with our school principal, the local MP, a reporter and photographer from the local newspaper, and a group of other local business men and women who have sponsored the swim. And Corey and I are right in the middle of them—ready to put my perfect plan into action.
Mr Dobson begins a countdown. The whole school joins in.
‘TEN!’
I push Corey and myself as close to the front of the group as I can.
‘NINE!’
I tap him on the shoulder.
‘EIGHT!’
He turns and gives me the thumbs-up.
‘SEVEN!’
I stretch my arms, roll my shoulders and prepare myself for my heroic dive and courageous rescue.
‘SIX!’
I look up into the stands. Danny is there. He’ll soon realise that he’s been cheering for the wrong guy.
‘FIVE!’
Lisa Mackney is there. She’ll soon realise who the true hero is around here.
‘FOUR!’
This is it.
‘THREE!’
This is really it.
‘TWO!’
Jeremy Smart is going down.
‘ONE!’
Show time.
A siren blasts.
Jeremy touches the end of the pool.
The crowd cheers and applauds.
The lap tally board that’s been counting Jeremy’s laps reads 3001.
‘IT’S A NEW WORLD RECORD FOR THE MOST AMOUNT OF LAPS IN A TEN-HOUR SWIM!’ yells Mr Dobson.
Jeremy removes his goggles and punches the air. His dad reaches down and helps him out of the water.
Jeremy stands up, turns to the crowd and waves.
The roar is louder than anything that’s come before.
Jeremy waves again.
He’s really milking it. I mean, what’s the big deal? He does a few thousand laps in a pool and everybody goes crazy!
I wonder how they’ll react when they see someone (e.g. me!) do something really heroic.
Jeremy is about to step away from the side of the pool.
I tap Corey again. ‘You’re up, buddy,’ I whisper. ‘Good luck!’
He nods, surges forward towards Jeremy, bumps into him and launches himself—clumsily—into the pool.
The crowd gasps.
There’s confusion.
And a rare moment of silence.
‘Help!’ yells Corey. ‘I can’t swim!’ He’s bobbing and flailing in the water in a very convincing manner.
‘OH NO!’ I shout, pushing through the assembled dignitaries. ‘JEREMY SMART JUST PUSHED THAT POOR INNOCENT DEFENCELESS KID INTO THE WATER!’
‘HELP!’ says Corey. He looks like he really does need help. I’d better not waste any more time. I grab Mr Dobson’s microphone out of his hand.
‘DON’T WORRY, LITTLE BOY WHO JEREMY SMART JUST PUSHED INTO THE WATER!’ I yell. ‘I, ANDY GRIFFITHS, WILL SAVE YOU!’
I throw the microphone back to the astonished Mr Dobson and then stand on the edge of the pool and raise my arms high above my head.
I see a NO DIVING sign on the side of the pool, but I haven’t got time to worry about that now. This is an emergency! And besides, the whole school is watching.
This is my moment.
The moment I’ve been waiting for.
I dive into the water in the most spectacular way I know how. I even manage to throw in a half-somersault for a little extra excitement.
But as I enter the water my dive is brought to a sudden halt by something hard.
WHAM!
Pain.
Lots of pain.
Then darkness.
Black, inky darkness.
Then more pain.
Pinching pain.
Somebody’s pinching my nose.
I open my eyes and see a face above mine.
I know that face.
It’s … it’s … Jeremy Smart’s face!
But what’s it doing so close to mine?
And why is his mouth wide open?
‘Jeremy?’ I say. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Andy?’ he says. ‘You’re okay! I was just administering emergency CPR. Thank goodness—you were so still that for a minute there I thought I’d lost you!’
Jeremy stands up. ‘He’s okay!’ he announces to the hushed crowd. ‘He’s going to be okay! They’re both going to be okay!’
The crowd erupts with a new round of cheering.
Jeremy kneels beside me again.
‘I was so glad I was able to save both of you!’ says Jeremy. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself otherwise.’
Uh-oh.
If he just said what I think he said, I don’t think I’m going to be able to live with myself.
‘You saved both of us?’ I say. ‘The little kid you pushed in and me?’
‘Yes,’ says Jeremy. ‘But I didn’t push him in, you know. He just bumped into me and then tripped and fell. I would never push somebody into the water—everybody knows that. I was just getting ready to save him when you div
ed in and hit your head on the bottom of the pool and knocked yourself out. So I ended up saving both of you!’
Oh no.
All my careful planning!
All for nothing!
No, even worse than nothing.
Instead of ruining his reputation, I’ve made Jeremy look even more perfect than ever!
Just then Mr Dobson crouches down and pushes the microphone in my face.
‘I guess you’ll be wanting to publicly thank Jeremy for saving your life!’ he says. ‘Well, here’s your chance!’
‘No, I don’t want to thank him!’ I say, grabbing the microphone. ‘I hate him! I hate Jeremy Smart!’
My words echo all over the pool.
The crowd falls silent.
Mr Dobson snatches the microphone away from me. ‘Ah, er, clearly the poor boy is very confused,’ he says. ‘He obviously hit his head very hard. What he really means is that he loves Jeremy Smart.’ He puts his arm around Jeremy and shouts at the top of his voice, ‘WE ALL LOVE JEREMY SMART!’
This announcement triggers a fresh round of cheering, which only stops when Mr Dobson asks for quiet so that he can tell them a further piece of even more exciting news.
‘In appreciation of Jeremy’s heroic actions in saving their young son’s life, Corey’s parents have offered to match the ten thousand dollars already raised to bring Jeremy’s total fundraising to an incredible twenty thousand dollars!’
He turns to the grandstand. ‘Three cheers for Jeremy Smart! Hip hip …’
‘HOORAY!’ comes back the thunderous response.
‘Hip hip …’
‘HOORAY!’
‘Hip hip …’
‘HOORAY!’
The noise is deafening. As if my head didn’t hurt enough already!
I look across at Corey. He smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. I fake a smile and wave back.
Well, this has certainly been a great day’s work. Jeremy Smart is even more of a hero than ever and it’s all thanks to me!
I’m going to have to work even harder than I thought to destroy him and his perfect reputation now.