CHAPTER 3
A TRAP
As we clamber over the back of the houseboat, I have the feeling that I'm being watched. There could be a million dollars here somewhere. But there's a little voice inside my head warning me to go back. ‘It's not your boat. What if Mr Glass Eye comes back for his money? Get off now before someone gets into trouble,’ the voice urges me.
But an even louder voice is shouting outside my head.
‘A million dollars! I'm going to be rich. I'm going to travel the world. I'll never have to work again!’
It's coming from Ben, who has never worked a day in his life.
‘You're only six. You're too young to give up work. You haven't even started yet. And you're way too young to travel the world,’ I say. ‘You have to hold Mum's hand when you cross the road.’
‘I cross the road on my own all the time,’ he replies. ‘Sometimes I even cross the road before the lollipop man puts his sign up.’
‘Ooohhhh. Dangerous,’ I tease. ‘You're ready to get on a plane for Africa.’
‘Let's worry about that if we find any money,’ Mimi says. She climbs into the houseboat's cabin.
We follow her down the stairs. The place is a mess. Baskets of clothes have been turned upside down. Books are scattered across the bunks. Magazines are strewn around the cabin. Sheets of newspaper are plastered across the windows.
‘Wow, this really is a pigsty,’ I say. ‘This is almost as messy as your room, Ben.’
‘I don't think this is just messy,’ Mimi says. ‘I think someone has been in here looking for something.’
‘The money!’ Ben says. ‘Mr Glass Eye has been looking for the money.’
I search through a pile of clothes. I toss big white undies over my shoulder. I scatter grey undies on the floor. There has to be something good in here. There must be a few stray banknotes or some loose change. But there's nothing of value at all.
My head is in the oven checking for money when a voice stops my search.
‘Get out now. Get away from my boat or I'll send you to the bottom of the river,’ says a menacing voice from above us. ‘Leave now or I'll feed you to a one-eyed suckerfish.’
Ben, Mimi and I freeze. The frantic search for clues stops dead. We look around the cabin for the source of the strange voice.
‘Leave now,’ the voice continues. ‘Or a thousand seagulls will poo on your head. A million pelicans will suffocate you with their fish breath.’
Mimi puts her finger to her lips, then points to the back of the boat. She crouches down on her hands and knees. She creeps out of the cabin. Ben follows. I'm only a metre behind when my shirt gets caught on a spiky wire on the deck.
I jerk at the material, trying to free myself. But the shirt won't budge. The spiky wire won't let go.
‘You have ignored my warnings. Now you'll pay the price,’ the voice calls. ‘First it will be the seagulls and pelicans. Then the suckerfish will slurp out your brains.’
‘My brain is really small!’ I shout. ‘I don't even know what two plus two is. It won't make a meal for a suckerfish. Choose someone smart like Professor Bigbrains! She's got a brain the size of Uluru.’
Mimi grabs hold of one of my arms. (It's very kind after I've just asked the monster to send a suckerfish to eat her brains.) Ben takes the other. They both pull.
Riiiiip ...
My shirt tears. The spiky wire releases me. The rain is cold on my bare skin, but inside I'm burning with fear. I look up to check if a seagull army is ready to unleash a thousand sloppy white pooper-loopers in my direction.
I'm scanning the sky for doo-doo missiles, when there's a bloodcurdling scream. An ugly thing with a human body, ears like a rabbit and a face so grotesque it would make gladiators wet their pants, leaps off the roof of the houseboat. It lands right in front of me.
‘Ahhh! We're all going to die!’