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CHAPTER 4

SO LONG,
FAREWELL

We held a huge street party to say goodbye to Hovel Street. We didn’t tell anyone where we were going, or that we had HEAPS of money now. We just said we were moving in with a relative to help them out.

Everyone was sad to see us go. Mum and Dad were really popular. Mum would help anyone cook a meal, Dad would help fix anything, and they were both so friendly. And whenever people were really low on food, no matter how short we were, there was always a plate of dinner for them at our place.

Everyone brought what little food they could for the party, and Mum turned it into the tastiest meal ever. The only bad bit was the Hovel Street custom where anyone leaving had to make a speech. I get REALLY nervous speaking in front of a crowd. I sweat, and the only words that pop into my mind are toilet and words that mean toilet, like john or loo or lavatory.

So that’s all I can say.

Mum spoke.


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Dad spoke.



Then I spoke. I hoped things would be different, but …



DAMMIT!

Everyone laughed, I was embarrassed, and the party continued.

I played one last game of mini-golf with the triplets. It was the most competitive game ever, except Trav didn’t play. He was so upset at me leaving he headbutted a wall and knocked himself out.

But I played a great game with Johnny and Maxy. My last shot was the toughest of the day. It had to go around the broken bottle, off the pothole, over the kerb, through the pipe and into the mousehole in the wall.

And of course I was being put off!



I laughed, swung my putter around my head, yelled ‘BUCKITY BUCKITY!’ and smashed my ball. It flicked the pothole, missed the broken bottle, hit the kerb, flew over the pipe and hit Trav in the head just as he was waking up.

Whoops!

We helped him up and said our last goodbyes. Then I went to sit on the steps

where I had spent so much time with Mr Kravoski.

He was already there.

‘I miss you, Jamie Brown. I sad,’ he said in his accent. ‘You good boy. Not to forget tricks, okay?’

‘I not to forget,’ I said sadly.

‘Most special,’ he said, ‘not to forget card in pocket trick. That important. You remember?’

I remembered. I still couldn’t get it right though. Whenever I snuck the card into someone’s pocket they thought I was squeezing their butt!

‘You practise, Jamie Brown. You practise like the wind and always beware the monkeys in the hats.’

I nodded and then it was time to go.

We didn’t need a moving truck … we didn’t have enough stuff anyway. Dad started up the car. It coughed and spluttered and blew black smoke and then conked out. I knew Dad would be dreaming of being able to buy brand new parts or even a brand new car!

He tried again, more coughing, more black smoke, and we were off.



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Framed