Tom Jones Saves the World Read online

  She’ll understand.

  Uncle Robert’s surprise

  Ruth: Isn’t it nice of Cleo to take Grandpa Jones

  on a picnic with Tom?

  Robert: Yes, dear. I would have liked to go as well.

  Ruth: Oh Robert, stop it.

  It’s to make Grandpa Jones feel better.

  He’s been very sick.

  Robert: It’s probably the food they serve at that

  Nursing Home.

  Ruth: Yes, you’re right, they can’t cook like me.

  Robert: I could cook better, I reckon.

  Ruth: Well, let’s not get carried away, dear.

  Robert: I’m trying to learn, Ruth.

  Ruth: You’re very trying, my dear.

  Robert: I saw the cake you baked with Cleo.

  Apple and Sultana—her favourite.

  Ruth: It was a special treat for her, dear.

  Robert: I might try and cook one next time.

  I’m ready to bake cakes now, Ruth.

  Ruth: But is the world ready to eat them, Robert?

  Strangely normal

  Dad has been acting very strange lately.

  Well, more than usual.

  He doesn’t talk the same.

  He speaks normally.

  Sometimes

  he almost sounds like Grandpa.

  Weird.

  He cracks jokes.

  He calls me Son, not Thomas.

  He calls Mum, “Babs”, or “darling”!

  Last night,

  he even invited me into his study

  and showed me his new bottle tops!

  I acted interested.

  I told him the Chinese ones

  were amazing!

  I kept saying how considerate Grandpa was

  to send him all these bottle tops,

  and, would you believe, Dad agreed!

  I wasn’t serious about

  the Dead Parent Wishes.

  I was

  dreaming!

  Joking.

  Fooling around.

  Not right in the head.

  Just kidding.

  Okay.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE TIME OF HIS LIFE

  Saturday

  Saturday,

  bright sunshine,

  a gentle breeze,

  and a basket full of food.

  Cleo, Grandpa, and me

  hop into a taxi

  and say, “Murchison Creek, please.”

  The taxi-driver smiles and says,

  “This is a car, mate,

  not a boat!

  But I’ll take you to Brady Lane

  and you can walk from there, okay?”

  I can smell the food

  in Cleo’s basket.

  I can’t wait.

  The time of his life

  “Come on, you snappy little fellow.

  The water’s boiling.

  Me and Tiger and the Queen of Pacific Palms

  are waiting for a feast.

  Come on, take the bite—

  Gotcha!”

  Grandpa jerks the line

  and the yabby lands on the bank.

  Grandpa’s laugh booms across the field.

  Me and Cleo smile to each other

  and watch Grandpa, on the blanket,

  having the time of his life.

  Lunch, and music

  The three of us

  can’t eat another bite.

  Aunt Ruth’s cake,

  three slices each.

  We lie back

  and look up at the deep blue sky,

  through the willows.

  Then,

  I hear music,

  strange wailing music,

  coming from across the field,

  getting nearer.

  Cleo and Grandpa

  can hear it too.

  We stand

  to see where it’s coming from,

  but the grass is too high.

  I’m sure it’s getting closer.

  I can hear the beat of the drums,

  and the wail of the singer.

  The three of us spin around

  when we hear a twig snap

  behind us,

  and it’s

  Barbara

  dressed in her belly dancer costume!

  She’s dancing with her hands arched

  high above her head,

  swinging to the rhythm of the music

  coming from behind the trees.

  Mum shimmies forward

  and does a swirling turn near Grandpa.

  Grandpa’s smiling so much

  I’m worried he’ll have another stroke.

  He takes Mum’s hand

  and she twirls around him.

  Me and Cleo

  start clapping along to the music,

  still getting louder,

  as Mum and Grandpa belly dance

  along

  the banks of Murchison Creek

  on this perfect Saturday.

  The music

  The music fades to a stop

  as Mum and Grandpa hug.

  I can’t help myself—

  I take Cleo’s hand

  and give her a kiss,

  a big, wet, sloppy, disgusting,

  but kind of nice kiss on her lips

  to thank her for another brilliant idea,

  then I go to Mum and hug her—

  it’s sounds soppy I know but

  I reckon this is the best day of my life

  and

  as I’m hugging Mum,

  I look over her shoulder

  and see

  Arnold

  coming out from behind the trees

  holding a ghetto-blaster.

  Dad is the music!

  Dad walks towards us,

  puts the ghetto-blaster down

  on the picnic blanket

  and holds out his hand

  to Grandpa

  “Hello, Dad, it’s nice to see you,”

  he says.

  Grandpa takes Dad’s hand

  and says

  “Hello, Tiger,

  bloody good to see you too!”

  They stand there shaking hands

  and Dad wraps his arm

  around Grandpa’s shoulder

  and gives him a hug,

  a hug I know he’s been

  waiting to give Grandpa

  for twenty years.

  First published 2002 by University of Queensland Press

  Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia

  Reprinted 2003

  www.uqp.uq.edu.au

  © Steven Herrick 2002

  This book is copyright. Except for private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

  Typeset by University of Queensland Press

  Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  Distributed in the USA and Canada by

  International Specialized Book Services, Inc.,

  5824 N.E. Hassalo Street, Portland, Oregon 97213–3640

  Cataloguing in Publication Data

  National Library of Australia

  Herrick, Steven.

  Tom Jones saves the world.

  I. Title.

  For children.

  A823.3

  ISBN 0 7022 3336 6

  Booking Manager: Young Australia Workshop

  332 Victoria St

  Darlinghurst NSW 2010

  ph: 1800 227 095

  Visit Steven’s Web-page:

  http://www.acay.com.au/~sherrick

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