Dog Gone (10 page)

Where was Brody?

I raced over to
the well and peered down. It was like looking at the sky on a moonless night. Nothing but black. ‘Brody!' I yelled, ‘Brody, are you okay?'

There wasn't even a whimper.

‘Brody!' I thought he must be dead. Or unconscious. Maybe he was under water? But then I remembered the old well had gone dry and wouldn't have any water in it. So he'd have landed on – what? I felt sick.

‘Brody!'

There was still no answer. I tugged at the lid, trying to get it all the way off so I could have a better look inside. It was much heavier than I expected. Brody was very strong to have moved it at all. Even though I pulled so hard that it felt like my arms would rip out of their sockets, I couldn't budge it.

Next, I tried sitting on the ground and shoving with my feet. The lid jerked back a few centimetres. Yes!

The sun had come out from behind a cloud, which helped me peer into the dirty greyness. But all I could vaguely make out was a lumpy shape near the bottom. Was it the top of Brody's head? It was on an awkward angle. He'd fallen a long way. Then the sun went in and the well went black.

‘Brody!'

No answer – I'd have to go for help.

Just as I got to my feet, I heard the faintest of sounds from down the well. I kneeled back down and yelled out to Brody again.

A soft moan floated up the walls like a bubble in a bottle.

‘Brody, can you hear me?'

Another moan, louder this time, came from the bottom of the well.

‘Are you hurt, Brody?' I plunged my head into the blackness.

‘Ish?'

‘Yes, it's Ish. Are you all right?'

‘No.' He began to cry.

‘Where do you hurt?' I yelled again.

‘Everywhere,' wailed Brody, ‘everything hurts – especially my leg.'

‘Try not to move,' I called down, ‘I'm going to get help for you, Brody.'

‘I can't see anything.'

‘Brody, you'll be okay for a moment. I have to get help.'

‘No!' shrieked Brody, ‘Don't leave – it's so dark!'

‘Okay. I'll see if I can move the lid off to let more light in.'

‘Owwww – my leg hurts. It really hurts.'

I didn't know how I was going to move the lid. I wished I had some of Brody's strength. I thought about running next door to see if Mr Ironclad was home. It wouldn't hurt Brody to be by himself for a while in the dark, especially after all the horrible things he'd done to me. Especially if he was scared.

I turned away from the well.

Brody yelled up at me again. ‘Ish! Are you still there?'

‘Okay, okay,' I called down, ‘I'll yell for help while I try to move the lid off the well.'

I turned to face the direction of Mr Ironclad's house, and yelled at the top of my voice, ‘Mr Ironclad! Help! Someone's fallen down the well! Help!'

I doubted he'd be home. He was always out playing lawn bowls. Even if he
was
home, he often didn't hear his doorbell because he had the radio blaring. But it was still worth a try. The house on the other side was no use – it had been empty for months.

‘Mr Ironclad! Help! Anyone! Help!'

If only Lucky was here. He'd find Mr Ironclad in a flash.

I sat on the edge of the well, my knees under my chin and my feet resting on the lid, ready to have another try.

‘Be careful,' Brody called out to me again, ‘the bricks on top of the well are loose. Ohhh – my leg.'

I gave the brick nearest me a kick with the side of my foot. It came away from the brick below it and shifted to the side. The well had been built a long time ago. In some places the mortar between the bricks around the top had shrunk, leaving gaps where the bricks weren't joined anymore.

I turned my attention back to pushing the heavy metal lid with my feet. I rested my hands on the ground on each side of me for support. Then I pushed and shoved with all my might. I strained so much it felt like I would explode. One of my arms had pins and needles from all the effort.

The lid barely moved.

I stopped pushing and gave my arm a shake.

That's when everything went wrong.

When I'd kicked the brick, I must have disturbed a spider's nest, because when I looked down at my arm, I discovered it wasn't pins and needles that I'd felt, but a huge black spider and billions of its babies climbing up my arm!

I screamed and jumped to my feet, trying to brush them off. I could feel some of them crawling down the back of my neck. The big black one had jumped onto the front of my shirt and was heading for the gap between it and my jacket. I tried to brush it off before it disappeared between the layers of my clothing.

Then I screamed again – for a different reason.

I should be dead.
That's what you'd expect from a fall of about seven metres. Especially if you landed on something lumpy. And if that lumpy thing was another person, then you'd expect
them
to be dead, too.

But I didn't die.

When my eyes popped open, I realised I'd landed
next
to Brody. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And did what I think just happened, really happen? Or was my memory playing tricks after a bump on the head? Because the moment I overbalanced, I think I saw the ghost hold out its arms and catch me. Even though it seemed ridiculous, I remembered falling down the well as if I was falling through honey – down, down, down – into a sea of sleep.

What Brody and I were now sitting on was soft, like an old mattress. I could feel something like a chair underneath it, as well as other junk. It smelt like we were in a giant rubbish bin.

‘Far out!' yelped Brody. ‘Wha– what was that?'

‘I'm not sure,' I answered him. ‘But whatever it was, it just saved our lives.'

‘Are you for real? I mean – you got some crazy stuff happening around you.'

‘Tell me about it.' I moved my arms and legs to check I was okay.

‘Ouch, my leg!'

‘Sorry.' I could feel Brody's breath on my face. It felt as if we'd been squeezed into the neck of a bottle together, except we couldn't see out. I shuddered. ‘How bad's your leg?'

‘I think it's broke,' moaned Brody. ‘Owwww.'

‘If it's broken you shouldn't try to move it.' A wave of panic shot through me as the black walls started to close in. This wasn't a dream.

‘Owwww,' moaned Brody again.

‘You saw the ghost, too?' I asked, trying to calm myself down.

‘You're kiddin' me – right?' said Brody. ‘A ghost?'

‘I think a ghost just saved our lives,' I said.

‘Yeah, right.' Brody tried to move away from me, but there was nowhere to go.

‘I'm serious. How else would we both be alive now?'

I could just see Brody's eyes in the darkness, but I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or not.

His voice sounded wobbly. ‘This is all your fault. You and your stupid fishing rod.'

‘
My
fault? If you and your thug mates hadn't ganged up on me at the river –' I suddenly remembered the spiders and started to brush myself off, trying to stand up, but not being able to.

‘Hey! What are you doing now? Oww! Careful of my leg.' Brody gave me a shove, and I banged up against the side of the well.

‘I disturbed a spider's nest at the top of the well and they crawled all over me. That's how I fell – trying to get them off,' I said, trying to pull my arm out of my jacket sleeve, remembering where I last saw the big black one.

‘What sort of spiders?' Brody started brushing himself down as well.

‘Baby ones and a big black one, which was on me when I fell. The spider could be anywhere on me down here in the dark, and I wouldn't know.' I gave my jacket a shake and slapped myself all over, hoping I was squashing any spiders I hadn't managed to brush off.

‘Jeez, I was almost starting to feel at home down here, until you decided to drop in with all your mates,' Brody said. ‘Now it's feeling a bit crowded.'

So Brody could be funny. If I was going to be stuck with a thug down a well, at least he had a sense of humour.

‘What did you see when I fell?' I asked Brody, giving my jacket a final shake before struggling to put it back on.

‘Nothing.'

I stared up at the small circle of light above us, at the top of the well. ‘You saw it that day at the river – didn't you? When I was looking for my rod.'

Brody went quiet.

‘You know about the ghost,' I said.

‘What are you talkin' about? You're nuts.'

‘You were looking at something behind me on the track – you were freaked out.'

‘You're the one who's freaked out, city boy. You're freaky – full stop.'

‘Come on. Admit it. You saw it just now
and
the other day.' I needed to know whether Brody had seen the ghost. It was going to save me a lot of worrying about myself, if he had. ‘Maybe you were scared of it.'

‘I wasn't scared of it! I mean –' the words were out of Brody's mouth before he could stop them.

‘So you
did
see the ghost!'

‘Owww!' Brody tried to move away from me but hurt his leg instead. There was no getting away from each other down here.

‘And my Grandpa's fishing rod gave you a hard time.'

‘That fishing rod – it's like it's
alive – magic
. It stuck to my hand. I couldn't get the dumb thing off me all night.' I had Brody going now. ‘I had a hard time trying to explain to my Dad why I wouldn't put it down to eat my dinner and why I wanted to take it to bed with me. That's why I chucked it down the well. This morning it unattached itself so I thought I'd get rid of it for good. I didn't want you using it on me to cast a spell or something.'

‘Why would I do that?' I replied. ‘And why are you out to get me, anyway? What have I ever done to you?'

Brody went quiet again, moaning softly to himself. I looked around me, then up. The circle of light at the top of the well seemed dimmer. I knew that as the sun got lower in the sky, we would soon be sitting in total darkness. The thought sent shivers down my spine. How would we ever get out of the well?

We tried yelling, even though I knew our voices wouldn't carry far from the bottom of the well. I was hoping someone had heard me shouting out just after Brody fell in. Or maybe when Gran came home, she would notice the lid disturbed and come to investigate. Although Gran hardly ever spent time in this overgrown back end of her garden, especially in winter.

‘What sort of a name's
Ish
?' asked Brody suddenly. ‘Short for something, is it? Can't be your real name.'

‘My real name's Michael – after my Grandpa. Apparently just after I was born, Mum asked Dad if my name suited me and he said I looked Michael-
ish
. Then he asked Mum if she thought I looked like a Michael and she said something like, “Mmm –
ish.
” At that very moment, a nurse came in, misheard Mum, and said, “Oh, what a lovely name –
Ish
– how unusual.” And it stuck.'

I was about to suggest to Brody we try calling out again, just in case someone happened to be nearby, when he mumbled something.

‘What?' I said, not catching his words.

‘Sorry,' he repeated, a bit louder.

‘What for?' I asked.

‘For calling you names and giving you a hard time 'n' stuff.'

‘That's okay,' I said, a little surprised.

‘I was pee'd off when you came to stay with your gran. My mum died last year and your gran used to bring me and Dad some meals around every week. Well, I got to know her a bit 'cause she asked me to do odd jobs round at her place. I mowed the grass and that. That's how I discovered this well. She paid me for the jobs and gave me cake and cordial. She sewed buttons on and stuff like that. Your gran – she's kind of good to talk to. Then you came and spoiled everything.'