Squishy Taylor and the Tunnel of Doom Read online

  For Rainer, Nelleke and Anouk who will read them together. And for Emmaline, who would have loved to.

  – Ailsa

  For Lauren, the BEST Taylor!

  – Ben

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  About the author and illustrator

  Copyright Page

  ‘Messy, here boy!’ I say. ‘Come on, Messy, this way.’

  I’m looking over my shoulder as I bolt away, slapping my leg and calling like crazy. Messy is running towards me, his tongue lolling, looking so happy. He’s in terrible danger and he has no idea. The only way I can keep him safe is if he obeys me completely.

  ‘You can do it, Messy! Get out of there!’

  He’s super fast. Way faster than a kid. But he’s easily distracted. He turns and sees who’s following him. Then he heads straight towards the danger.

  He collides with Vee’s legs and they both tumble on the grass. They roll over each other, a tangle of kid and puppy.

  ‘OK, fine,’ I laugh, and flop on the grass. ‘You tagged him, you win.’

  Vee is one of my bonus sisters. I call them that because they’re the bonus I got when I moved in with my dad and their mum. My other bonus sister, Jessie, is lying in the shade by the climbing frame. She hates running. She’s Vee’s twin but they’re pretty much opposites.

  Vee is giggling under a tangle of puppy. She pats him and he squirms happily.

  I scramble up. ‘My turn to be it!’ I shout, running towards them.

  Vee leaps to her feet and bolts away with Messy at her heels.

  We’re playing Dog Tag, which is a game I invented. The ‘it’ person has to catch Messy, but they aren’t allowed to call him at all. Everyone else is trying to get Messy away from the ‘it’ person in any way they can.

  It’s a weirdly hot afternoon. The hottest there’s been in ages. We’re on the grass near our playground. Our park has a climbing frame bit and a grass bit. You’re meant to have dogs on their lead, so Messy’s got a lead, but no-one’s holding onto it. It’s trailing along the grass while Messy lollops beside Vee.

  I’m nearly up to them now. I can run faster than Vee, so as long as Messy stays with her, it’ll be easy.

  Then Jessie calls, ‘Messy!’ from over at the bench.

  Darn. Messy turns and bolts towards her.

  We let Jessie do this because it makes the game more fun. She always chooses the right moment.

  ‘Good boy, Messy!’ she says, reaching into her pocket. She’s more organised than us, so she always has doggy treats. Messy loves her.

  Messy isn’t our dog – we look after him for someone else. Her name is Carmeline Clancy, and she’s a movie-star rock-climber we made friends with. She lives in a ‘no pets’ hotel and sometimes she’s too busy filming to play with Messy. So we pick him up from his puppy boarding-kennel and take him to the park after school some days.

  Playing with Messy is the best. I dodge after him, watching his cute tail wag in the air. But before I get there, Vee calls from another corner of the playground. Messy bolts towards her. Annoying! I’m so hot and puffed. Also, I want to win.

  There’s a stick on the ground just below me. Like a ninja, I pick it up while I’m still running. I don’t even slow down. Then I wave it invitingly over my head. Will he see? He does. He gives a big doggy grin and starts puppy-dancing towards me.

  ‘Squishy, that’s cheating!’ Vee says, slowing as she gets closer.

  Squishy – that’s me. My real name is Sita, after my grandma, but everyone calls me Squishy. Squishy Taylor: it’s like that old gangster, only better.

  ‘There’s no rule about sticks,’ I say, as Messy tumbles into me.

  It’s true, we never said there was a rule about sticks. But we probably should have. I feel a tiny twinge of guilt, but mostly I just see the sweet, jumpy puppy round my knees and have the good feeling of winning.

  ‘That win doesn’t count,’ Vee says in her whiny voice.

  ‘Cheating makes it less fun for everybody,’ says Jessie. As if she’s ever played sport in her life. She’s only older than Vee by forty-seven minutes, but sometimes she acts like she’s our mum.

  ‘OK, whatever,’ I say. ‘I’ll still be it.’

  I lift the stick high over my head and throw it as far as I can. It circles in the blue sky and Messy bolts. His legs are so fast, they’re like a cartoon blur.

  There’s a little patch of taller grass near the corner. Past that, there’s a bit more mown grass and then the fence. The stick lands on the other side of the tall grass. Messy’s bolting towards the stick and I’m pounding behind him. He runs straight for the tall grass, pushing through like it’s not even there. But he doesn’t come out the other side.

  He should have only been in that grass for a second. Where is he?

  I sprint towards the long grass and then stumble to a halt.

  The long grass is in a circle around a hole. A really deep hole, so dark that I can’t see the bottom.

  And Messy has fallen in.

  ‘Messy!’ I shout, half-crying, half-calling him.

  ‘Stop cheating, Squishy. You’re not allowed to call him,’ Vee shouts, running up behind me. Then, ‘Oh,’ as she sees what I’m seeing.

  The metal lid that’s supposed to be over the hole is pushed to the side. It’s still half-over, enough to stop a kid falling in. But not a puppy.

  I kneel on the edge and lean my head in. ‘Messy?’ I call. My voice sounds hollow, echoing back up at me. I listen. But there’s nothing.

  My heart drops into my shoes

  A whimpering little howl drifts up out of the darkness.

  ‘Oh, Messy, you’re alive!’

  But he sounds like he’s hurt. Messy isn’t even our dog. What will Carmeline Clancy think if we let him get hurt?

  There’s a metal ladder going down into the dark.

  ‘We have to get to him,’ I say, trying to push the lid aside. It’s heavy. Vee kneels beside me, her face all red from running. We both try to push, but it doesn’t budge. It’s way too heavy.

  I can hear Jessie walking towards us. ‘Squishy, what’s happened? Where’s Messy?’ Her feet stop by my knee. ‘Oh no.’

  Messy whimpers again, calling for me to help.

  ‘Come on,’ I say, ‘together.’

  Vee pushes. I push. Jessie stands, frozen, watching us. The lid doesn’t move. Not even a fraction of a millimetre.

  ‘Jessie?’ I ask.

  She blinks and then kneels beside us to push. The lid finally budges a tiny bit. We move it a centimetre at a time. I count, ‘Three, two, one,’ and we heave together, like pirates pulling ropes on a pirate ship. ‘Three, two, one.’ Breathe. ‘Three, two, one.’

  Finally there’s enough room for me to squeeze in. I sit on the edge, find a footing on the ladder and ease myself down.

  ‘Squishy, what are you doing?’ Jessie asks tightly.

  ‘I’m going to rescue him,’ I say.

  Jessie’s voice gets firmer. ‘But you can’t go down there,’ she says.

  Typical Jessie. Telling people what they can’t do, when it’s a matter of life or death.

  Messy’s yodelling whimpers float up, sounding so tragical it makes my heart hurt.

  ‘Watch me,’ I say to Jessie, squeezing my hips down past the lid.

  It’s much coole
r down the hole. Cold air flows over my legs in the darkness, while my face is still hot in the sun. The ladder is rusty and scratchy on my hands.

  Once my shoulders are in, it’s easy. I go faster, but not too fast. I’m not totally reckless. I still have to feel for every foothold.

  As I climb, I talk to Messy. ‘It’s OK, I’m coming. You’ll be all right.’

  He becomes more frantic as I get closer.

  ‘Squishy, are you OK?’ Vee calls, her voice sounding hollow and frightened.

  ‘I’m nearly there,’ I shout back up.

  It’s cold down here. Such a long way for a puppy to fall.

  Finally, my foot finds solid ground instead of a ladder rung. I’m careful not to step on Messy.

  ‘Hello boy, here I am.’

  Why isn’t Messy already leaping all over me? Is he hurt that badly? It’s so dark that it’s hard to see, but my eyes are slowly adjusting. Messy is just to one side of me, lying at a strange angle on the floor. I imagine all his legs being broken from the fall. What if he has to have casts on them for months? What will Carmeline Clancy say when I tell her?

  ‘Are you at the bottom yet?’ Jessie calls down.

  ‘Yes, but something’s wrong with Messy.’

  ‘I’m coming down,’ Vee says. I hear Jessie telling her not to, but she does anyway. It gets darker as her legs swing into the hole.

  I crouch down next to Messy. He’s scrabbling with his two front legs, which don’t look very broken. But I can only really see half of him. There’s something wrong with his back legs and tail. I squint and look closer. He’s stuck under something.

  There’s a crack down into the floor and Messy’s back legs are stuck in it. He must have been trying to scramble out and got himself caught. I tug him gently. He whimpers, but I give a little jiggle and his legs pull free.

  ‘Is he OK?’ Vee asks, landing with a loud thump on the floor beside me.

  ‘I think he’s fine.’ I stroke my hands down his back legs. He wriggles and licks my face, yapping happily. It makes me giggle. ‘He’s fine,’ I say.

  I set him on the ground to check if he can stand on his legs. And Messy barrels off into the darkness, trailing his lead behind him.

  As soon as I see Messy’s tail disappearing, I realise we’re not just in a hole. We’re in a tunnel.

  ‘Messy, wait!’ I shout.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Jessie calls down.

  I don’t answer. I’m already following Messy. I can’t actually run, because it’s too dark to really see. But it’s not pitch-dark. There’s a little bit of light ahead, as well as behind.

  I hear Vee shouting up to Jessie. ‘We’ll just be a minute, Jessie. Don’t go anywhere.’ Then her footsteps trot behind me.

  ‘Messy!’ I call. ‘Here, boy. Come on, Messy!’

  His claws skitter on the concrete ahead. We’re on a narrow footpath with a wall on my right. On my left there’s a river. Well, it’s not really a river because there’s not enough water for that. It’s more like a stream. In the darkness it looks black and slimy.

  ‘A whole tunnel, under the city!’ Vee says.

  The air smells like mud and moss. It’s awesome.

  Or it would be if we hadn’t lost a puppy.

  ‘Messy,’ I call. ‘Messy!’

  Up ahead there’s a patch of light, maybe from another hole? Messy has paused there and is looking back at us, tongue lolling. I’m so relieved he hasn’t totally disappeared.

  ‘Messy!’ I call and run up to him. But as soon as I’m close, he bolts away. He thinks we’re playing chasey again.

  I stop. Chasing him isn’t going to work. I wish we had Jessie’s treats.

  ‘That’s the street,’ Vee says, standing in the light and looking up. There’s a metal grille and busy feet crossing it. We’re not under the playground anymore.

  ‘I wonder where this tunnel goes?’ I think aloud.

  It’s heading downhill.

  ‘Jessie will be getting worried,’ Vee says. But I can tell she wants to explore.

  I say, ‘We can’t leave Messy down here.’

  Vee nods seriously. Then we both grin and head into the darkness.

  Messy stays ahead of us, but not too far ahead. The floor is a bit slippery and in some spots it’s really dark.

  ‘This is actually the best,’ Vee says.

  I agree. ‘You can totally imagine some kind of creepy, scaly monster living down here,’ I say.

  Vee slows down. ‘Do you think there might be?’

  Vee’s funny like that. She’s not scared of climbing high things or walking for miles in a dark tunnel. But as soon as you add creepy imaginings, she freaks out. She’s scared of ghosts, even though they aren’t real.

  Soon the tunnel opens out into a cavern. There are more grilles in the ceiling high above our heads, giving us a little bit of light.

  ‘Whoa!’ Vee says, and her voice booms strangely.

  Our slimy little creek joins two others coming out of other tunnels. They all flow together down another tunnel. To our right there’s a massive pile of something looming in the corner. I think it looks a bit like a curled-up monster, but I don’t say that to Vee because I don’t want her to freak out. Messy is sitting in the middle of the floor, with his tail wagging like mad.

  This time I don’t chase him. ‘Come on, boy,’ I say quietly and pat my knee. He looks. Then he stands up and trots towards me.

  I pick Messy up and cuddle him. His fur tickles my cheek as I follow Vee out into the cavern.

  ‘What’s that pile?’ she asks. As we get closer, I realise it’s covered in some kind of orange plastic, and tied down tight. Anyway, it’s too dark to really see much.

  ‘We should get back to Jessie,’ Vee says, sounding like she doesn’t really want to.

  I kind of want to explore more, but I know she’s right. ‘Yeah, any minute now she’ll probably freak out and run for Dad and Alice,’ I say. Alice is my bonus sisters’ mum, which makes her my bonus mum.

  ‘She’d probably skip them and go straight to the police,’ Vee suggests.

  I giggle. ‘Or the fire brigade, ambulance and emergency mining rescue people.’

  Vee cracks up. We’re both laughing as we head back to our tunnel. Messy is wriggling in my arms trying to get free, so I find the end of his lead, wrap it tight round my wrist and put him down. He tries to go back towards the cavern, so I give his lead a little tug. He whines and comes with us.

  ‘Actually, Jessie’s probably googling all the different kinds of rescuers,’ Vee says. It makes us both laugh because Jessie loves Google.

  We walk and walk and walk. After a while, Vee says, ‘This is taking forever!’

  As soon as she says it, I realise something I should have noticed when we left the cave.

  ‘We’re going downhill,’ I say. ‘The same direction as the stream!’

  ‘But we were going downhill on the way in!’ Vee says.

  We stand and stare at each other in the dark. We must have taken the wrong tunnel.

  We have to turn around and go back. And when we get to the cave, we have to figure out which is the right tunnel to take us to the playground. By now Jessie is definitely freaking out. I wish we could tell her we’re OK.

  I squeeze Messy’s lead tighter. He dances on the end of it. He knew we should have been going the other way – he tried to tell us.

  ‘Isn’t it heaps lighter around the corner up there?’ Vee says.

  She’s right. It is lighter ahead. A lot lighter. Messy starts tugging me towards the light, his happy tail wagging.

  ‘It’s probably another way out,’ says Vee.

  When we turn the corner, there’s daylight. Not shining down from a grille in the roof, but a whole round green circle of daylight. Green because it’s surrounded by plants. Vee runs to the end and I follow her, clutching Messy’s lead. We stand at the edge of the tunnel. We’ve come to the river.

  Messy leaps around happily, barking as though we were unde
rground for days instead of just a few minutes.

  The Yarra River is wide and brown, flowing past us. Our slimy little stream is dribbling into it. We’re standing on a weedy bit of grass. The tunnel comes out of a concrete wall behind us with a footpath running along the top of it. People are walking and cycling up there, and the city is just behind them.

  ‘There’s a secret tunnel, from our park to the river,’ I say, in a mini-scream.

  We stop and look at each other. Vee’s eyes are so bright and shining. ‘This is amazing, amazing, amazing!’ she says. Her voice gets higher and higher with each ‘amazing’ and Messy barks along with her. Then we are laughing and high-fiving and Messy is jumping up trying to catch our high fives.

  Suddenly Vee stops. ‘We really have to go back.’

  It’s hard to remember how worried Jessie will be, because we know we’re OK.

  I look up at the footpath, with the city behind it. ‘Which way do you think should we go?’ I ask. ‘The streets, or the tunnel?’

  It’s hard to decide.

  ‘We-ell,’ Vee says. ‘Mum hates us crossing roads on our own.’

  I nod. We don’t have to cross any roads to get from our apartment to the playground, which is why we’re allowed to walk there alone.

  ‘It’s probably safer to go through the tunnel,’ I say, seriously.

  ‘Much safer,’ Vee agrees.

  It’s so good when the safe choice is also the fun choice. We head back into the darkness with Messy trotting in front.

  When we get to the cavern, we pause.

  ‘Which one?’ Vee asks.

  All the other tunnels are going uphill. It looks like they’ve joined here to go down to the river.

  ‘Not that one,’ I say, pointing. ‘We would have had to cross the water to get out. I think we’d have noticed that.’

  ‘And not that one,’ Vee says, ‘because the path’s on the right of the stream.’

  She’s right. There’s only one choice. We start walking. But Messy doesn’t move. The fur around his shoulders is spiky and he’s started to growl.

  ‘What is it, boy?’ I ask.