Home   International Poetry Fiction Non-fiction
© Copyright 2003-2009 K S Mulholland  

BlackEagle Girls
and The Pirates of the Mystic Caravan.

Chapter 18 - Down the Garden Path

'Osama Bin Laden. How did he actually escape?' Harry's question was not so much a question as an announcement of looming enlightenment. 'Not by chopper that's for sure, though he and his pals would like all those who want him dead to think so. That way, if those helicopters had been shot down it could have been assumed that he was dead or at least would have bought time to find out that he wasn't. But no. Buggy tells me that he made his way quietly out of the bombed ruins on foot before the next assault and simply hooked up with the ass and camel drivers and their herds who had been signalled in from further off, to vanish along with the remainder of his terrorist followers into the empty wastes. You can be sure that somewhere, through the weeks and the months to follow, the Pirate of the Mystic Caravan will continue to be the king of terrorism, if in truth it was actually him and not one of many impersonators he employed.' Harry's voice momentarily ghosted out and in on the BlackEagle Activator. 'Whatever, he was never your target and his downfall will come eventually. The BlackEagle Girls have achieved their quest and then some, getting Miss Surban out of danger and with the bonus... hmm, bone-us... of rescuing her mother. I commend you all as Raiders of the Last Bark.'


Sonia Poe and her Hopewell staff couldn't get a case up against any pupil over the Lower School Presentation-night debacle, although they had serious suspicions as to who those students might be.

RoseAnne's people were duly, 'No Comment' and headed underground, dragging their boof-headed family member with them, after having her physically checked out by Miss Menzies on the night. (And possibly later also assessed mentally. According to Angie Sole: 'She needs her head read. Stupid moron! Blew tha whole deal sky-high wid her big mouth!')

'...and there's a very good reason why we didn't have any chest-beating from that big ape Angelo or his slimy real estate cousin Morris Sole,' said Miss Poe, accepting a cup of tea from Lyn Reynard.

Stanley Mitikovski shook his head, running a hand over his thinning hair. 'Multi-levelled buildings across the street from Hopewell instead of car-parking for the school, unbelievable! How did they expect to get away with it?'

'All they needed was the backing of the school as a carrot to the local Council and once they'ed bullied and scared off enough of the home-owners they would have simply brought in the bulldozers and created enough havoc so that any last-stand people would have sold off. After that, once in possession, rezoning the land from open car-park to layered car-park to multi office-blocks with car-parking facilities would have happened progressively and I'll bet there are enough councillors in their pockets to have carried that vote.'

'A nice try, but no cigar!' said Mitikovski triumphantly, carefully adding three lumps of sugar to his English Breakfast tea.

Lyn Reynard chuckled, perching on the end of Miss Poe's desk, a cup in one hand, nibbling at a sweet biscuit in the other.

'What amuses you Miss Reynard?' asked Stanley.

'M'it's just that, excuse me, difficult to talk and swallow at the same time, it's just that there are cigars, thanks to our unknown bombers and a rather verbally uncontrollable pupil who will now be feeling the heat from her own family, and those cigars are lighting that fire and the fire of now useless documents. Who knows where the cigars will finally end up?'

'Perhaps we should not continue that line of thought Lyn,' said Sonia, dryly.

'And perhaps we should not attempt overly to discover the perpetrators of the bombing attack,' suggested Stanley, gesturing mysteriously. 'Only The Shadow knows what lies within the minds and hearts of men, I'm telling you.'

'The Shadow, or perhaps Robin Hood?' suggested Sonia.

'The Scarlet Pimpernel?' offered Lyn Reynard.

'Or Henry Potter?' replied Headmistress Poe, slowly shaking her head and grinning. 'Whatever, we will let this lesser evil go for the time being, in thanks for the salvation of all the homeowners of the street, and take other measures to find a solution to Hopewell's car-parking.'



'She really wants to meet you Henry,' said Priscilla as she led him down the garden path to Monique's front door.

'So you said before. What I don't actually get is why? Like I know I'm pretty cool an' all that stuff, but how could she have heard about me when she's not even at our school?'

'Probably your exploits as the Scarlet whatsits-name and Tony Curtis. C'mon Henry you have to trust me,' hissed Priscilla. 'Haven't I spilled the beans about this surprise birthday party for you? '

'Yeah, sure, right... I really should have written a little speech...' He waved the bunch of flowers he was carrying as if it might somehow magically turn into pen and pad.

'No!' said Priscilla emphatically. 'That would blow me out of the water if they thought you were warned about your surprise.'

'Oh yeah, right. I suppose Vincent and Brodie are here and Rosalind too. I hope those guys have brought their own girl-friends and aren't...'

'Absolutely! Now remember to do the wow thing when it all happens inside.' Priscilla clutched at Henry's arm. 'Don't let me down. I don't want anyone, not even Moni, to know that I told you about this in advance. Remember, we're just here to visit Moni's mum who's down with some kind of dreaded disease.'

'You are my Sister, ' said Henry solemnly, coming to a halt a few steps from the front door, 'and somehow I should...' He appeared to be thinking both out loud and internally. 'What's her name again?'

'Alice Innersmere. You remember her, you must have seen her down at the News Agency?'

'Oh yeah! That girl! Ohh! But she's older than me...'

'God you're a dag, she's fifteen...'

'And I'm thirteen...'

'What's a couple of years? Will you care when you're twenty eight?'

He pursed his lips. 'An older woman... yeah.'

'You're an ongoing dag. Just ring the bell. At the very least Alice might get Rosalind thinking.'

Henry looked around at his sister and found in her eyes the correct amount of encouragement, and the thought of two girls interested in him was just too much. Grinning broadly and suppressing the thought of kissing Priscilla as a thank-you, he rang the bell.

Thirty seconds later Monique opened the door and quietly ushered them in. Priscilla stood back to allow Henry through and a further thirty seconds on the main room erupted with shouts of “Surprise!” Followed by lots of clapping and general screams and squeals of all those gathered.

Henry sure knows how to draw a crowd, even when he isn't trying, Priscilla thought, watching her younger brother reacting with suitable, though possibly over-the-top, shock and awe as he was mobbed by his mates and family.

In the midst of all the fun and commotion, Harry was running between people's legs, barking and throwing himself whole-heartedly into the celebration.

Harry, you're overacting as badly as Henry! thought Priscilla, pushing between Brodie and his girl-friend and a rear-end that turned out to be her own mother Rachael in some sort of tight black cocktail frock at use-by date after too many film and tele celebrations.

'Oopps! Sorry Mum,' Priscilla managed, struggling forward through the press and glancing back at Rachael who had turned abruptly with a 'My bum's not that big is it?' expression on her face.

'Oh there you are Henry, over your surprise yet?' Priscilla said with a wink, detaching her brother from his pals whilst Monique guided Rosalind away toward the fruit punch.

'Come over here, I want to introduce you to Alice Innersmere, she's so been looking forward to meeting you,' said Priscilla, leading him on.

A young girl not too much taller than Henry, but definitely blooming in all the right places, detached herself from a group including Louis and his mate Charlie Fairman.

'Hey Alice, this is my kid brother Henry, he who has been steadily building a reputation as first-year school rabble rouser and revolution leader,' said Priscilla.

'Hi Henry,' said Alice, batting her eyelashes and reaching out a hand. 'I've heard lots of stories about your... exploits.'

Henry, his face beginning to glow almost as much as his ego, grasped Alice's hand as their eyes locked. He felt an almost overpowering desire to bend on one knee and kiss her fingertips, even though he was vaguely aware that others were taking notice.

It was just at that moment that many things happened in rapid fire. Harry appeared out of nowhere, howled in a single mournful moan and collapsed at their feet. Henry, suddenly realising that he could not detach his hand from Alice's firm grasp, dropped to his knees, his free hand reaching for the dog. The pie that was meant for him slapped squarely into Belinda's face and a second later the one from Monique landed like a homing pigeon on Alice. Louis got Narenda and Charlie got Louis.

There was an explosion of laughter from all now gathering around as Harry rolled over, jumped up and ran off barking through the many milling legs. Henry, still attached to Alice, rose and looked astounded at the pie-splattered group. He opened his mouth to laugh grandly and it was just at that moment that Priscilla finally landed one directly on him.

'Whaded I do this time!' he yelled, his mouth, nose and eyes full of cream.

'Do?' said Priscilla beaming. 'You don't need to do anything, you little Scarlet Pimple! You're my Kid Brother! Surprise! Happy Birthday!'

(She made a mental note to hunt Harry down and strangle him, even if he was an alien from Wasat somewhere in outer space.)



Diary. I am again sorry for not bringing you up to date. Believe me, you're not like home-work and I do so want to write you. To be honest, I just haven't had the time. Can you believe that? Anyway, things have happened. Some good and some bad. Roseanne's (Bitch!) two tennis kids won the doubles final. Ray and me got knocked out earlier. But when Roseanne got clobbered in one of Henry's pie raids, at her, get this Diary, HER acceptance speech, it was a high-light of my year. And then there was all the stuff about the Building scam and her uncle's involvement. Too much for me to detail tonight. I plan to write that up some other time, so Diary this is a reminder note.

And on the subject of Ray. Gee he's really such a nice guy but I don't feel anything near enough for him. I mean I get a bit wobbly when he's showing me how to play tennis, holding my wrists and stuff, but that's all. It's not the way I think I would feel if I found someone who I really well maybe loved.

Enough said there for the moment. I'm fifteen next year. Who knows what will happen? I just don't want to get stuck in some kind of situation where everything is kind of thought out for me, like for my future. I want to do the deciding myself. I mean do I actually want to be with a guy or just free for the years to come, maybe even until I begin to get old in my thirties. Errh. Horrible thought. I'm not even sure about how I really feel. I have Mum and Dad, but they're like always sailing away on their own adventures, within their own comfort bubbles. Then I have Louis and Henry, brothers with agendas and lives to grow. And Granny Black, dear reliable Amelia. Boy! She still holds the house together.

And Monique.

My very own special girlfriend, who never complains, always smiles, is so very close. My bestest friend. We've slept in the same bed. I've hugged and kissed her and she's done the same to me. Does that mean

Diary I have to take a break


Book 5 next

Australian Page email your comments to the author Exchange critiques on the Lit-Talk board

Widget is loading comments...