Squishy Taylor and the Tunnel of Doom Page 2

  Then I hear footsteps. Loud, echoey, grown-up footsteps, coming down one of the other tunnels.

  ‘Oi!’ a man’s voice shouts. He sounds angry and the footsteps get faster. I can see torchlight bouncing off the walls of the tunnel with the water crossing.

  ‘What are you kids doing?’ He sounds so mean. It’s like a monster’s growl and it booms through the tunnels.

  ‘Run!’ I shriek.

  And we pound down our tunnel. Messy tugs me, running faster than both of us. Vee climbs the ladder first. I’ve never seen her climb so fast in my life. When she’s right near the top, she hooks her leg around and reaches down for Messy. I climb a few steps one-handed, with Messy under my arm, then pass him up to her.

  We scramble out into the sun. Messy jumps around happily, as though he’s never seen daylight before. Jessie is gone.

  ‘Quick, pretend we’re in the middle of a game!’ Vee says. Luckily there are about twenty kids in the playground now. We sit down opposite each other and start a clapping game. Hopefully the man won’t even suspect us. We’re suddenly clapping-game kids. Not exploring-secret-tunnels-under-the-city kids. Right?

  The growly man climbs up out of the tunnel. He’s wearing a fluoro orange shirt with a circle logo on his chest. He looks around the park suspiciously.

  Eventually he shrugs and climbs back down into the hole. Phew.

  Jessie and Dad come running into the park. She spots us first and bolts towards us. For someone who doesn’t like sport, she can go pretty fast.

  ‘You’re OK! You’re OK,’ Jessie says. ‘I thought that something terrible had happened.’

  ‘We’re fine,’ I say, as we scramble to our feet.

  Jessie whispers, ‘I didn’t tell Tom about the tunnel, because I didn’t want to scare him if you were OK.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I’m so grateful I want to hug her.

  Dad strides up. His mouth is in a firm line and his eyes are narrow-angry. And he doesn’t even know about the hole yet.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asks. ‘Where did you go?’

  I glance at Vee. What should we tell him?

  ‘I promise we didn’t cross over any roads,’ I say. I’m using my most sincere voice, because it’s actually true. We didn’t cross over any roads.

  Dad has his stern voice on. ‘You scared Jessie so badly she came home,’ he says. ‘I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.’

  ‘But we –’ I start.

  ‘No buts, Sita,’ he says, holding up his hand. (Sita is my name for when I’m in big trouble. And for the roll at school.) ‘I am seriously considering whether to let you come to the park by yourselves anymore.’

  ‘But it wasn’t –’ Vee tries.

  ‘I said no buts, Veronica.’

  Whoa. He only uses Vee’s in-trouble name when things are really serious.

  Dad makes us sit down right there in a patch of shade and talks about being responsible. Being fair. Playing safe. There’s no point interrupting Dad when he’s like this. It’s like when Baby starts his hiccup wail. You can’t distract him till he’s cried it out.

  We sit on the grass and listen to Dad talk. It’s hot even in the shade. I watch Messy chase his leash and then sniff the parents’ bench.

  There are two grown-ups sitting on the parents’ bench who don’t look like parents. It’s a man and a woman in super neat business clothes, not paying any attention to the kids. They are talking quietly, leaning towards each other, like what they’re saying is really important. Our noisy playground is a funny place for super neat business grown-ups to come and talk seriously.

  ‘Sita, did you hear me?’ Dad’s voice comes over the top of my thoughts.

  ‘Um. Yep,’ I say.

  Messy is right near the bench, sniffing the neat woman’s shoe.

  ‘So do you promise?’ Dad asks.

  The woman leans down and scratches behind Messy’s ears, just where he likes it.

  ‘I promise,’ I say.

  ‘No leaving anyone out,’ Dad says. ‘The bonus sisters are a team and you stick together and keep each other safe. Right?’

  ‘Right,’ we all agree.

  ‘So we can come back to the playground tomorrow?’ I ask.

  ‘I guess so.’ Dad pushes himself up to his feet. ‘Right then, let’s get that puppy home to his kennel.’

  ‘That puppy’ has really made a new friend. He’s sitting on the neat woman’s knee and she looks way less serious.

  He’s all wriggly and it’s making her smile.

  ‘Messy!’ I call. He jumps off her knee and pounds over to us in the sun. His floppy ears are so cute when he runs.

  ‘Thanks for not telling Dad about the hole,’ I whisper to Jessie, as Dad tries to catch Messy’s lead and Messy dances away from him.

  ‘What happened in there?’ she asks.

  ‘We found a tunnel all the way to the river!’ Vee says, grinning.

  Jessie’s eyes widen. She doesn’t look pleased at all.

  The next day at school, we are learning about pollution in water. Ms Mobarak says now is a good time to learn about it, because of the news about Zoom Mining’s toxic accident.

  She shows a video about ‘toxic waste’. It’s like poison, and you have to store it carefully so it doesn’t get into the water and make everyone sick. First the video scans along a big, brown river, just like the Yarra but it’s in Queensland. Then there’s a picture of a man in a fluoro orange shirt with a circle logo on his chest. He’s pointing to some toxic waste.

  I gasp, because I realise I’ve seen toxic waste before. On the video, the toxic waste is wrapped in orange plastic and stacked in a pile. Exactly like the pile in the tunnel.

  Then the video shows a boring bit about picking up rubbish and dog poo to stop it going down the drain. As soon as the video finishes, I throw my hand in the air.

  Ms Mobarak looks at me. ‘Yes, Squishy?’ (Even my teachers call me Squishy.)

  ‘Would you be allowed to store toxic waste under Melbourne?’ I ask.

  ‘No.’ Ms Mobarak shakes her head, smiling at me. ‘That would be against the law.’

  I think about the pile in the tunnel and the angry man. ‘So, if Zoom Mining stored the waste under the city would they be criminals?’ I ask.

  She nods, opening her mouth to answer.

  ‘And then they would have to go to jail, right?’ I say quickly.

  Ms Mobarak isn’t smiling anymore. ‘That’s right, Squishy, but no-one is storing toxic waste under Melbourne.’ She turns to the rest of the class. ‘Now, who noticed the bit where –’

  ‘But the Yarra is polluted,’ I interrupt. ‘We’re not allowed to swim in it. So someone must be storing toxic waste somewhere.’

  ‘Yes, the Yarra is polluted, but that’s a bit different from –’

  ‘Ms Mobarak, how is it different?’

  ‘I think that’s enough, Squishy. It’s time to let everyone else do some talking.’

  I bite my lip and let them talk about dog poo. I know something no-one else knows. An angry man from Zoom Mining is hiding toxic waste in a tunnel under Melbourne.

  After school, we dump our bags in the kitchen. It’s so hot. We grab our frozen juice from the freezer and head straight back out the door. Our apartment is on the eleventh floor, so we have to wait for the lift.

  ‘There’s a secret toxic-waste dump under the city,’ I say, because Jessie still doesn’t believe me. I’ve already described the video while we were on the tram but Jessie just snorted. Jessie only trusts some kinds of evidence, and that doesn’t include trusting what I tell her.

  ‘It’s not a toxic-waste dump,’ Jessie says in her boring grown-up voice, standing beside the lift door.

  ‘It is, and if we fixed it, we could all swim in the river,’ I say and suck juice around the ice in my bottle.

  Vee looks at me with bright eyes. ‘Imagine if we could swim in the river!’

  ‘We could jump off the Princes Bridge,’ I say.

  Vee lau
ghs. ‘We could climb underneath the bridge with no harness and if we fell we’d just fall in the river.’ Vee is a genius.

  We high-five and laugh loudly.

  Then our next-door neighbour’s door opens. He steps out, striding towards the lift. Our next-door neighbour is the crankiest man in the universe. His name is Mr Hinkenbushel and sometimes he gets so angry that he spits. He hates it when we make noise. Actually he’d probably hate it if we breathed.

  I think he’s going to shout at us for laughing in the corridor. But he doesn’t. The lift dings and he steps into it with us.

  We all stand there in silence as the lift door slowly closes. Mr Hinkenbushel ignores us and stares straight ahead. Vee elbows me and I try not to giggle. Jessie tries to be cool and takes a sip of her juice, but it makes a funny slurping noise. I choke on my laughter.

  Then I think of something. Mr Hinkenbushel isn’t just our cranky neighbour. He’s also an undercover police officer.

  ‘Um, Mr Hinkenbushel?’ I begin.

  ‘What?’ he snaps. He looks at me like I’m a slug.

  ‘Did you know someone from Zoom Mining is breaking the law, right near our playground?’

  ‘What?’ he snaps again. Only now his eyes are interested. ‘What kind of law?’

  This is weird, because he never asks questions. He never wants kids to talk.

  ‘One about pollution –’ I start, as the lift stops. The doors open.

  ‘How do you know?’ he asks, looking at me as we walk into the foyer.

  Then Jessie steps in. ‘She doesn’t know anything. She’s just making things up.’

  I can’t believe what just happened. Jessie used her adult voice to team up against me, with Mr Hinkenbushel. Our sworn enemy. The crankiest man in the universe. My tummy feels sick with anger.

  ‘I do know stuff, Jessica,’ I say. ‘You think you’re so –’

  I stop myself from saying something really mean and stride out across the foyer. The sun beats off the pavement outside and feels as angry as my insides.

  Jessie and Vee jog after me. Jessie is at my shoulder, trying to sound reasonable. ‘But you are making it up, Squishy.’

  Today, Jessie is not a bonus.

  Behind us, Mr Hinkenbushel is proving that he’s still the crankiest man in the universe. He shouts, ‘Hey, you kids! Don’t make up lies about crime. It’s a stupid thing to do. And if you think someone’s a criminal, steer clear of them. Don’t be nosy idiots.’

  I bet he’s spitting too. He always spits when he shouts. I don’t look. I don’t even care.

  When we get to the playground, I head straight towards the tall patch of grass where we first lost Messy.

  ‘Squishy, where are you going?’ Jessie asks. ‘Squishy, you can’t go down there. We promised –’

  ‘I just want to look,’ I say. It’s like she’s from another planet. How could you know there’s a secret tunnel under your city, and not at least go look at the entry?

  ‘Fine,’ she says.

  The lid is back on tight. We all stare down at it. There isn’t really much to see.

  It’s too hot in the playground to actually play. There aren’t many kids. We sprawl in the shade, sucking our iced juice. I make a point of ignoring Jessie.

  ‘I wish Messy was here,’ I say to Vee.

  ‘Imagine if we could swim in the river,’ Vee says.

  I notice that neat business couple is here again. They’re talking in the same way they were yesterday. Like what they’re saying is very important.

  ‘What do you reckon those people are doing?’ I ask, nodding to the couple.

  ‘Looking after kids,’ Vee says.

  But Jessie shakes her head. ‘All three of the kids in the playground have another grown-up with them.’

  She is good with evidence, I think grudgingly. Just not so great with trust.

  Jessie is staring at them, looking really interested. ‘Why are they sitting in the sun?’ she asks. ‘It looks pretty uncomfortable.’

  Then Vee gasps and points in the other direction. ‘Hey, look!’

  The fluoro man from the tunnel has just arrived in the park. He’s carrying a heavy-looking backpack. He walks straight to the tall grass and bends over to shift the lid. In a couple of minutes, he has disappeared under the city.

  ‘See,’ I say. ‘Fluoro Guy is carrying more waste down there in his backpack.’

  ‘Squishy!’ Jessie laughs. ‘People don’t carry toxic waste in backpacks!’

  ‘How do you know?’ I ask.

  ‘They just don’t,’ Jessie says. ‘He’s probably gone down to fix the drains.’

  ‘Then what’s he doing?’ Vee asks. She points across the street.

  Mr Hinkenbushel is leaning up against a building, watching our park with a pair of binoculars.

  Our local undercover police officer is spying on our playground. And there are more grown-ups here than kids. Something is definitely going on in that tunnel.

  That night, I grab the iPad and sprawl on my front on the lounge-room rug. It’s time to skype Mum. Mum has a big job in Geneva, which is why I don’t live with her anymore. Sometimes I miss her so much I can’t breathe, but lots of the time there’s too many other fun, weird adventures to think about.

  Mum’s face comes up on the screen. She’s behind her desk in her United Nations office, because it’s morning in Geneva. She grins at me. ‘Hey, Squishy-sweet. Did you see Messy today?’ she asks. I skype her every day, so she already knows all my big news. Except the tunnel. That’s a secret even from her.

  ‘Nah. Hey Mum, pollution is really bad, right?’

  Mum smiles, because she likes how I get straight to the point. ‘Some pollution is very, very bad, and some is just a little bit bad. But even the little bits add up,’ Mum says. She never just says yes or no.

  ‘But what Zoom Mining did was illegal,’ I push.

  Mum knows all about it because she reads tonnes of newspapers every day. ‘Maybe,’ she says. ‘If they deliberately did things they knew could cause a spill. We’ll find that out soon.’

  ‘But if it’s against the law,’ I say, ‘why would they do it?’

  Mum is a good answerer. She looks at me with her thinking face. ‘Great question, Squisho. Maybe because they can make more money taking risks. It costs more money to do everything carefully and obey the law.’

  ‘Until you have to pay millions of dollars to clean up toxic waste,’ I say.

  Mum grins at me. ‘Exactly, Squishy. Unless you can get away with pretending it wasn’t your fault.’

  Vee jumps over the couch and lands, like a horse-rider, on my back. She squashes my shoulders with her elbows and leans in to look at the screen. ‘Hi, Devika!’

  ‘Hi, Vee,’ Mum smiles.

  Jessie brings Baby over and we laugh at his big gummy smile when he sees Mum. Baby doesn’t know Mum is a person. He thinks she lives inside the iPad.

  I want to tell Mum about the secret toxic-waste dump. It’s burning in my chest. But I can’t tell her without explaining how we went down the tunnel. I watch her do soppy-face at Baby, who is waving his arms like a crazy person.

  I think about the toxic waste in the tunnel. Jessie still doesn’t believe it’s down there. What would make her believe me?

  As soon as I think the question, I know the answer. Google would make Jessie believe me. I pull the iPad off Jessie.

  ‘I miss you, Squisho,’ Mum says.

  ‘Miss you too.’ I press the hang-up button and roll over.

  ‘Dad?’ I call. ‘Can I google something?’

  Our iPad is set up so the only app that goes online without a password is Skype. One time we used the iPad to make a revenge website. Another time we hacked security footage, but then we got caught. Now the iPad is only to talk to Mum, unless we ask.

  ‘What do you want to google?’ Dad asks, from the kitchen.

  ‘Toxic waste. We learned about it in school today.’

  Jessie pulls a face as I take the iPad over to th
e sink. Dad peels off his big yellow rubber gloves and drapes them on the sink edge. Then he types the password.

  ‘Thanks!’

  I google ‘toxic waste’ and get a news video. I watch it, walking back to the rug.

  ‘A billion-dollar clean-up operation is underway,’ says the voice-over. ‘Zoom Mining denies any illegal activity. They claim they always stayed within government safety standards. This would make taxpayers responsible for the cleanup bill. An investigation has begun –’

  An investigation. Sounds interesting, but it’s not what I’m looking for.

  The toxic-waste video from school is a few videos down. I tap it while Jessie and Vee look over my shoulder. When the orange plastic comes up, I pause the video.

  Vee gasps. ‘That’s what we saw in the tunnel, Jessie. Exactly it.’

  ‘Shhh,’ I say, glancing over at Dad’s back. He doesn’t turn around.

  We all stare at the iPad with its picture of orange plastic.

  Jessie looks like she’s going to say something about why we’re wrong.

  Vee leans in and hisses, ‘Seriously, Jessie. It’s exactly the same.’

  She waves her arm as she says ‘exactly’ and Baby’s face gets in the way. He falls over backwards and his head goes bomp on the floor.

  Darn.

  He screws up his face. ‘Waaaaaah!’

  Now they’ll notice it’s bedtime.

  Alice steps out of their room. ‘Bedtime, you lot!’ she says. ‘Get a wriggle on.’ Alice picks up Baby and bounces him, which makes his wail go up and down like a police siren.

  I’m pulling my pyjamas on when Jessie comes into our room. She’s got something under her shirt.

  Jessie grins at me and slides the iPad out. ‘It’s still unlocked,’ she says. ‘If they don’t notice I took it, we might be able to get to the bottom of this tonight.’

  Once the lights are out, Vee does a Rolling-Spin-Drop from her top bunk to my middle one. Then she goes again, down to Jessie’s on the bottom, and I follow. We huddle round the iPad, hushing each other and trying not to giggle.

  Jessie’s opened a news article about the investigation.