So Feral! (16 page)

As silently as he’d come, Geoff crept back to bed.

‘Item one,’ he whispered, clutching the wet, squishy object. ‘Success.’

The next morning when Geoff walked back into the bedroom after his shower, he stopped before he had even walked through the door. There were red and pink and orange splotches all over the bedroom mirror. Some were scattered around the glass while others were in patterns. If he looked real close, they were flowers and stars.

Is this some sort of psychedelic dream like hippies sing about? Geoff wondered. He blinked. No, the shapes were still there.

And multiplying.

Thanks to Caterina, who did not realise he had come in.

Geoff stood still, trying to stifle a giggle. He watched, fascinated, as Caterina reached for a lipstick (mulberry), applied it to her lips, then started to kiss the mirror.

What is it with Pruneface and that mirror? he wondered.

Petal followed petal, calling for the most amazing contortionist act to reach the top. Yet another flower bloomed next to the others.

‘What
are
you doing?’ asked Geoff.

‘Oh!’ Caterina dropped the lipstick, leaving a dark red gash on the chest of drawers. ‘Get out, you
creep,’ she yelled, snatching a handful of tissues and lunging at the kisses. ‘You didn’t knock!’

Furiously, Caterina started to rub. She rubbed and scrubbed. Streaks of red blended with orange then pink as Caterina scrambled to hide the evidence.

‘You were kissing the mirror!’ exclaimed Geoff, shaking his head. ‘Now I’ve seen everything.’

‘You prying, interfering loser!’ yelled Caterina. ‘I’ll tell Mum.’

‘Go ahead,’ said Geoff with a smile. ‘This’ll be good.
My love affair with a mirror.’

‘Two days and one night,’ said Caterina, flouncing out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘Then you’re outta here. I can’t wait!’

Geoff sat on his bed, studying the smears and swirls she’d left behind in her haste. Lip outlines could still be seen. One in particular caught his eye.

Lip prints, thought Geoff. I wonder if they’re used by the police for evidence?

He reached for a tissue and lay it over the top of the print, gently applying pressure.

The most amazing, fantastic idea began to form …

When Geoff got home from school he raced into the kitchen and raided the cupboard. Honey, jam and peanut butter made their way onto the bench. A handful of teaspoons followed. With a furtive glance over his shoulder to make sure he was alone,
he slipped out of the kitchen and headed for his and Caterina’s room.

Someone had cleaned the mirror. There was not a smudge in sight.

We’ll soon fix that, thought Geoff. Reaching for a jar and spoon, he started to carry out his plan.

Jam-flavoured roses stood beside honey-twinkling stars — both outlined with peanut butter. Geoff worked quickly, aware that all too soon Caterina would be arriving. His parents he did not have to worry about. They worked late on Fridays.

Geoff heard the front door open. He looked at his handiwork. ‘This better work,’ he said to the mirror. Scooping up the jars and spoons, he thrust them in his schoolbag and hurled it under the bed so that Caterina would not know he was home. Then he hid behind the door.

Right on cue, Caterina walked into their room. ‘Oh, my God!’ she said, eyeing the mirror and throwing her schoolbag on the bed at the same time.

From his vantage point behind the door, Geoff watched as she peered at the mirror. The sweet aroma of strawberry jam and honey filled the air, combined with the pungent smell of peanut butter. Geoff’s mouth started to water. There hadn’t been time for his afternoon snack!

Hunger got to Caterina, too. A deep growl rumbled from her tummy and echoed around the room. She stood at the mirror, licking her lips.

C’mon, willed Geoff. Do it!

Caterina looked from the door to the mirror to the door, a questioning look on her face. She hesitated, calling, ‘Geoffrey?’ Then louder, ‘Geoff!’

Geoff froze. But then he saw Caterina relax when there was no answer.

‘Stupid Geoff’s been copying me,’ she said to her reflection as she dipped her finger in the honey and started to lick it off.

Yes! thought Geoff, watching with bated breath.

Unable to resist, Caterina leant up to the mirror. Geoff watched as a rose disappeared under the pink tip of her tongue. From the rose the tongue slid to a star. In, out, in, out, went her tongue, working its way through the smorgasbord. It reminded Geoff of a dog licking a bowl.

Sometimes Caterina just flicked the surface and other times she sucked so hard her tongue was flattened and spread out.

Like a sea snail on the glass of an aquarium, thought Geoff.

The red jam mingled with the peanut butter and honey till it was one big multi-coloured blur. The mirror could barely be seen.

Waiting for this exact moment Geoff stepped out from behind the door.

Caterina did not notice him, so intent was she on her licking.

‘Uh, hmmm,’ said Geoff, clearing his throat. ‘Hungry, are we?’

‘Ohhhh!’
wailed Caterina, whirling around. There was jam on her nose, honey on her chin and blobs of peanut butter everywhere. Using her hand to conceal her face, Caterina fled.

‘Gotcha,’ said Geoff to her retreating back and reaching for a tissue. He turned and examined the mirror. In no time at all he found what he was looking for. With care he lay the tissue on the surface of the mirror, blotting up the contents. Next, he held it up to the light.

Perfect. Item two for the spell!

‘Whatcha looking for?’ asked Rob, ten minutes later when he found Geoff outside in the carport.

‘Clippers,’ said Geoff.

‘What for?’ asked Rob.

‘The spell,’ said Geoff, willing Rob to go away and let him get on with the job.

‘It didn’t say clippers,’ said Rob.

Geoff stopped searching through the shelves lining the back of the carport. He looked at Rob and sighed. ‘I need them for “Toe of mog”,’ he said.

Rob blanched and stepped backwards. ‘Yuck! You must be desperate to make your sister disappear.’

Geoff nodded, saying, ‘Sure am.’

When Geoff returned to his room he found that most of his belongings were missing. His trophies had been removed from the bookshelf and replaced with fluffy stuffed toys. The posters and tarantula were gone from the wall beside his bed. His kite had been taken down. Even his collection of cicada shells had disappeared.

‘They’re in there,’ said Caterina, pointing to a garbage bag on the floor. ‘I’m helping you to move out,’ she said by way of explanation.

Geoff picked up the bag and placed it on his bed, careful not to show how upset he was.

Caterina was giving herself a pedicure. Geoff watched as each toenail was filed to perfection. Next, she applied her nail polish, coat after coat. Passion Pink, the label said.

Should be called Jellybean, thought Geoff. ‘Cause that’s what her toes look like — jellybean toes.

‘Only twelve hours to go,’ crowed Caterina. ‘Then you can sleep in the gutter for all I care.’

Mumbling, ‘toe of mog’ and ‘wool of rat’, Geoff walked out. As quietly as possible, he crept into his parents’ room and shut the door. There was something he had to
borrow
.

‘Geoffrey!’ called his mother. ‘Phone!’

Stuffing the razor in his pocket, Geoff answered, ‘Coming!’

‘Whatcha going to do for toe of mog and wool of rat?’ It was Rob. ‘It’s a toughie.’

‘You’ll see,’ said Geoff. ‘I’ll show you tomorrow.’

‘What about the tongue?’ asked Rob. ‘I saw some up at the butchers.’

‘It’s all under control,’ said Geoff. ‘Tomorrow Princess Pruneface will have disappeared and I will have the room to myself.’

‘Evanescence,’ said Rob with a laugh. ‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

‘You’ll see it tomorrow,’ said Geoff. ‘Be here by eleven.’

Five minutes later when Geoff knocked at their bedroom door, Caterina ignored him. ‘Can I come in?’ he called.

‘No!’

‘Please.’

‘Go away.’

‘But I want to go to bed!’ Geoff was about to barge in, when Caterina did what only Princess Pruneface could do …

The door almost left the hinges as she wrenched it open. ‘In twelve hours’ time this is my room, not yours, you snivelling little snot!’

‘What’s your problem?’ asked Geoff. And with that he set off a tirade.

‘You. You don’t deserve a beautiful room like this. Bugging people all the time. The verandah’s too good for you. Know what you are? A bloodsucker! I’m so sick of sharing with a moron of a brother! Why couldn’t I get a sister? A nice one I could swap clothes with. Not a drongo who prowls around —’

‘I don’t prowl!’

‘Creeping about like a … a …’

‘A what?’

‘A creep!’

‘How original,’ said Geoff.

Caterina stamped her foot. ‘You’ve got twelve hours — twelve hours, mind — then you pack.’

By now, Geoff had pushed his way into the room. ‘Yes, but tonight I’m still sleeping here.’

‘Mine!’ shrieked Caterina. ‘This room will be mine!’

You mean
mine
, corrected Geoff.

That evening Caterina repeated the whole tiresome going-to-bed routine. ‘G’night,’ said Geoff.

Caterina settled back on her pillow. ‘Saturday tomorrow. I can’t wait,’ was her reply.

Thinking of the spell and the next step in his plan Geoff did not answer. What he was about to do required all his patience and skill.

Quicker than he expected, Caterina fell asleep.

Geoff slipped out of bed, reaching for the clippers that were hidden under his pillow. He went over to Caterina and eased up the bed covers from the bottom end. Ten pink pearls lay glistening in the pale light. Geoff grabbed the clippers, placed them blades open around Caterina’s toe and …

Hack! Hack! Hack!

Item three — success.

‘Now for the wool of rat,’ said Geoff, reaching for the razor. Quietly and with grim determination, he went about his business.

Snip! Slide! Glide!

Item four — success.

When Geoff woke the next morning he lay still, pretending to be asleep. Between a gap in the bed
covers he watched Caterina. First, she inspected her fingernails, huffing on the polish and rubbing them on her pyjamas to buff them up. Then she stretched and yawned before flinging back her sheets.

Without her contact lenses Caterina could not see her feet.

‘Morning,’ said Geoff, hoping that for once she’d avoid the mirror.

Caterina flung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.

Furtively, Geoff glanced at her toes. The nails were rough and uneven, some pointy, some blunt, but most were sort of jagged.

They look like they’ve been attacked with a can-opener, thought Geoff.

‘I’m having first shower,’ said Caterina. ‘While I’m gone you can start packing!’ Grabbing a towel from the end of her bed, she walked out.

Five, four, three, two, counted Geoff in anticipation.

‘Aaaagh!’

Right on cue, thought Geoff with a chuckle.
‘Ooooooh!’

‘Caterina!’ Mr Polo stood banging on the bathroom door, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his eyes heavy with sleep. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Eeeeekh!’

‘Caterina?’ gasped Mrs Polo. ‘Are you all right?’

Geoff came out of the bedroom and joined them, yawning and stretching to look like he’d just woken up. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

Caterina flung open the bathroom door. Her eyes were wide in her face and her skin was deathly pale.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Mr Polo.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Mrs Polo. ‘You look — somehow — different.’

Caterina looked from her mother to her father. She pointed to her toes, then face. ‘Can’t say,’ she sobbed and hurled herself into their arms.

Rob met Geoff at exactly eleven o’clock the next morning. ‘Bet you didn’t find all the stuff for that stupid spell.’

‘Yes, I did,’ said Geoff. He pulled out the
Book of Spells
from a drawer and turned to page 72, saying, ‘I’ll show you.’ Opening a bag he reached in, removing three envelopes and a tissue.

‘You’re nuts,’ said Rob, picking up the tissue. ‘The spell says, eyes and toes and wool and tongues. What’s this supposed to be?’

Geoff leant back in his chair, a smug look on his face. ‘It’s the tongue of hog,’ he said.

Rob tilted his head. ‘This is a joke, right?’

‘Uh-uh!’ Geoff smiled. ‘You know how police use fingerprints to catch criminals?’

Rob nodded.

‘Another sort of print is a tongue print.’ ‘You mean, thumb print,’ corrected Rob. Geoff shook his head. ‘No. I mean tongue print.’ Rob’s eyebrows rose quizzically. ‘You’ve lost me,’ he said.

Geoff held up the tissue so that the light was behind it. Using his pinkie he drew round the tongue print, explaining, ‘Here’s the base, the tip, back to the base.’

‘Whose tongue is it?’ asked Rob.

‘Pruneface’s!’ Geoff ploughed on. ‘And you know how Princess Pruneface does not want to share this room?’

‘Yes

‘She wants to have it all to herself. She wants to
hog
it.’
‘So-o

‘Pruneface is the hog.’

‘Pruneface is the hog?’ repeated Rob, trying to understand.

‘That’s right,’ said Geoff, holding up the tissue. ‘And this is her tongue print.’

Rob’s eyes lit up. ‘Tongue of hog, eh?’ Geoff nodded.

‘You’re stretching the interpretation,’ said Rob, pursing his lips and shaking his head. ‘Don’t know if it’ll count.’

‘Trust me,’ said Geoff, lowering his voice to sound older and wiser. ‘This old spell’s open to a modern interpretation.’

Rob reached for the envelopes. ‘So what’s in here?’ He felt through the paper with his fingers. ‘No toes or eyes that I can tell.’

Geoff opened one envelope and tipped the contents into his palm. Something small and slippery lay there. He picked it up, squeezing it gently between his fingers.

‘Can’t wait to hear how you’re going to explain that,’ said Rob. ‘It’s a plastic contact lens.’