I ignored her and continued sketching. I was onto Bruce’s underpants and I had to get them just right.

  ‘California!’ yelled Mum a few minutes later. ‘WOO HOO! I can’t believe I knew that!’

  I stopped drawing and listened. Something was getting Mum very excited.

  ‘1936!’ she said a few moments later. ‘Yes! I got it right again! I’m on a roll!’

  The last time Mum screamed so loudly was when I accidentally set fire to the rug. Something was working her up and I had to find out what it was. I put my pencil on my desk and tiptoed down the hallway to the entrance of the living room. Mum was sitting on the edge of the lounge, her face glued to the television. She was holding the smartphone in her hand.

  ‘Dolphins!’ she exclaimed.

  A man’s voice sounded from the television. ‘And the answer is dolphins.’

  ‘Yes!’ exclaimed Mum, noticing me in the doorway. ‘Phillip, you must come and see – I’m on a roll!’

  I didn’t need an excuse to watch TV, so I sat down next to her. She was watching the trivia. A man in a suit asked the next question.

  ‘What is the capital of –’

  ‘Brisbane!’ blurted Mum.

  ‘Mum, he didn’t even finish the question,’ I said, slightly annoyed.

  ‘The answer is, of course, Brisbane,’ said the man on the show.

  Mum’s face broke into a broad smile.

  ‘Woah . . .’ I whispered. ‘That was amazing.’

  ‘Pineapples!’ said Mum suddenly, as the man started the next question.

  I stared closely at the TV.

  ‘The answer is pineapples,’ said the man on the quiz, just before a commercial break interrupted the show.

  ‘I haven’t got one wrong all night!’ beamed Mum, turning to me. ‘How is the maths going, Phillip?’

  ‘I’m . . . wrestling with it,’ I said, hinting at a change of channel. ‘My brain is . . . bruising from all the work.’

  Mum picked up on my hints and gave me an understanding look.

  ‘You can watch as much as you want tomorrow night. But for now, you really should go back to the books. Plus, I want to keep watching this quiz! Maybe I should go on it one day!’

  Just then, the smartphone began to ring. Mum answered it. It was Dad. She quickly handed the phone to me. ‘Phillip, he wants to talk to you. Can you take the phone to your room? I don’t want to miss any of the show.’

  I took the phone and headed back down the hallway.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ I said as I entered my room. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘The meeting is going overtime,’ he replied. ‘I won’t be home in time to help you with your maths.’

  My heart skipped a beat with the good news. I was off the hook and wouldn’t have to do any more studying.

  ‘That’s okay,’ I replied, trying not to sound too relieved. ‘I hope the meeting goes well. See you tomorrow.’

  I ended the call and put the phone down next to my maths book. Life was good. Thanks to Dad’s long meeting, I wouldn’t have to do any more work.

  I picked up my pencil and started to happily draw Bruce the Bruiser’s feet when something unusual happened. For some reason, my eyes were drawn to a question in my maths book.

  ‘Oh, that’s an easy one,’ I said quietly to myself. ‘The answer is eighty-nine.’

  I looked at the next question. It was easy, too. I wrote the answer down and moved on to the next one.

  ‘Piece of cake,’ I said. ‘Two-hundred-and-forty-six.’

  For some reason, the questions did not seem so hard any more. I could feel a strange energy inside my brain. I felt smart.

  I quickly completed a few pages before something interrupted me. Mum was screaming at the TV again, although this time her yells were angry.

  ‘AARRGGH!’ boomed her voice down the hallway. ‘Why are the questions so hard all of a sudden?’

  I looked at the phone on my desk and a thought entered my mind. When Mum had the phone before, she was getting all of the quiz show answers right. But now that I had the phone, she was getting them wrong while I was getting all of my maths questions right. It was like the phone was also able to put answers in our heads.

  I quickly checked my answers in the back of the maths book. Every single one was right. I opened up to another page and answered and checked those questions as well. Again, everything was right, even though I had struggled with the content at school. The phone was making me smart.

  I thought about the maths test. Somehow, I had to take the phone to school with me the next day. The test would be simple with this amazing technology in my pencil case.

  There was only one problem – Dad would need the phone again the next day, so I had to think of a way to stop him from taking it.

  I smiled to myself, a cunning plan forming in my mind.

  The next morning, Dad was looking very tired. The meeting at the bank had gone on so late that he got home after midnight.

  ‘They want me to take the top job,’ he sighed, sipping his coffee. ‘I knew I should have gone into acting.’

  ‘Why don’t you just quit?’ teased Mum, though I sensed there was truth in what she was saying. She had said before that she didn’t want him to take on a more important role. I think she wanted him to spend more time with us.

  ‘Phillip,’ said Dad, looking at me and changing the topic. ‘Where is my new phone? I need it today.’

  ‘I put it in your briefcase,’ I lied, trying not to look him in the eye. I slid a hand under the table and gently tapped my pocket, making sure the phone was still safely there.

  ‘That’s my boy,’ said Dad, ruffling my hair and standing up. ‘You do well in that maths test of yours. I’ll see you tonight.’

  The test was first thing in the morning and when I arrived at school, I made sure that everything was ready. I turned the phone onto silent mode and put it carefully into my pencil case. I had to make sure it was nice and close.

  Miss Bate began handing out the tests, and I sat back in my chair, smiling to myself. This would be easy.

  In no time at all the smartphone began weaving its magic. I could feel its power bubbling through my brain. It felt just like it did the night before. I raced through the first page of the test in a few minutes and quickly turned to the next page. The sound of the paper turning over drew the attention of Jason, the boy who sat next to me.

  ‘Phillip,’ he whispered. ‘I made a mistake. Can I borrow your rubber?’

  ‘Sure,’ I whispered back.

  Jason reached across for my pencil case and pulled it in front of him. I suddenly realised what was happening, but before I could react he had already noticed the phone.

  ‘Woah!’ he gasped. ‘A new smartphone!’

  He took the phone out and held it up, admiring it.

  ‘Where did you get it?’ he asked loudly, forgetting we were in the middle of a test.

  ‘No talking, you two!’ snapped Miss Bate. ‘And you know the rule about phones at school, Phillip. Bring it here, please.’

  My heart suddenly sank. Now I was in real trouble. Not only would the rest of the test be impossible, but Miss Bate would be sure to tell my parents about the phone. I sighed and took the phone to her desk.

  At morning tea, Miss Bate confirmed my worst fear.

  ‘Phillip,’ she said, flicking through my incomplete test booklet. ‘I have emailed your parents about the phone. Your father is very upset.’

  Things were bad. Really bad. But sadly for me, they were about to get a whole lot worse.

  Dad was furious.

  ‘I can’t believe you, Phillip!’ he seethed. ‘Not only did you take the phone, but you lied to me. That’s the worst part!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I –’

  ‘Sorry doesn’t cut it this time, mate! You are on washing-up duty for a month!’

  I dropped my head into my hands. I hated washing-up. It was the worst job in the house. It also meant that I would not be able to watch the wrestling for a whole month because washing-up had to be done after dinner, and that’s when wrestling was on TV. What a horrible punishment.

  The next week was terrible. Every night was the same old, boring story. We would sit together and eat dinner, then Mum and Dad would go off and watch TV while I cleaned the dishes. I could hear them cheering each other on as they took turns holding the phone to find the shows they wanted to watch. Dad was impressed with Mum’s trivia skills. I don’t think either of them worked out the phone was making her smart. Only I knew the true powers of the phone.

  One night, though, things were different. As I was washing up, I could hear Mum and Dad talking loudly during a commercial break.

  ‘What! They’re coming here?’ protested Mum.

  ‘They say that they need to do it here to understand my family life,’ replied Dad.

  ‘But job interviews should happen at work!’ yelled Mum. ‘The house is a mess!’

  ‘We can clean it together . . . Phillip can help us.’

  Now my ears were really burning.

  ‘Why are you only telling me now?’ complained Mum. ‘It’s just not fair!’

  Mum burst into the kitchen, holding the phone. She slammed it onto the bench next to the washing-up and gave me a frustrated glare.

  ‘Make sure you wash up well, Phillip. Some men from the bank are coming home with your father tomorrow to interview him. They want him to take the top job.’

  She suddenly looked sad. I could tell she was thinking about the extra hours Dad would have to work if he got the top job. She let out a deep breath, then disappeared into the bathroom to begin tidying up.

  I went back to the washing-up, but my mind was on Dad’s job interview. What would Mum do if he got the top job? Would we see much of Dad at home?

  I put a plate on the drying rack and then reached into the sink for the final object to wash up. The bubbles in the water made it hard to see what I was holding, so I tried to guess.

  Hmmmm, that feels strange, I thought. We haven’t got any small plates like this.

  I scrubbed the side of the object, making sure it was nice and clean.

  Maybe it’s a new saucer for a coffee cup.

  I held it under the water and scrubbed the back of it.

  It could be a coaster to put under cold drinks.

  I thought I felt something sticky on it, so I left it to soak while I wiped the benches down. Then, coming back to the sink, I pulled the mystery object out. My heart suddenly froze when I realised what it was. It was the phone!

  A massive shiver went through my body. Phones like this were not waterproof. What if I had ruined it? Panic started to overcome me. I madly fumbled around, trying to wipe the wet bubbles off the phone. I pressed the ON button, hoping to find signs of life. Then, to my relief, the tiny power button lit up.

  ‘Lucky!’ I said out loud.

  Without warning, something gripped the inside of my mind. I could feel it sweeping through my thoughts like a cold shower. I suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to smash something. I picked up a plate from the washing-up rack and threw it onto the kitchen floor. It exploded into thousands of tiny pieces.

  ‘WOO HOO!’ I bellowed, reaching into the rack for a teacup. I threw it wildly onto the floor and it smashed into smithereens. I jumped up and down, and clapped my hands loudly. I was ready to smash anything I could get my hands on.

  Dad ran into the kitchen and grabbed me by the arms.

  ‘What on earth are you doing, Phillip?!’

  The feeling left me just as quickly as it had come, and I knew it must have been the phone. The washing-up water must have gotten into its circuits. The phone was now sending out crazy thoughts and it made me smash the plate and cup.

  ‘Quick, Dad, turn the phone off!’ I yelled. ‘It’s going bonkers! It’s making me wild!’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ yelled Dad, snatching the phone off me. ‘You’re being absolutely absurd. You’re banned from my phone for a week!’

  He powered the phone off and stormed away, clearly unimpressed with my crockery handling.

  ‘Make sure you keep it turned off,’ I said softly to myself, gazing at the mess on the kitchen floor.

  Unfortunately for Dad, the next time he would turn it on would be the worst time of all.

  I was relieved to find out that Dad had left the smartphone at home the next day. He was so nervous about the interview that he simply forgot to take it to work. Luckily, it was still switched off and it would not be able to get into anyone’s mind.

  School finished and I hurried home to start my punishment chores for breaking the dishes the night before.

  I was raking up leaves in the front yard when Dad arrived home with three men, all dressed in suits and looking very important. They must be here to do the interview, I thought to myself. I knew Dad was nervous about the interview and that he wanted to make a good impression.

  ‘How efficient to see your son working for you,’ said one of the men as they walked to the front door. ‘That’s the sign of a good leader.’

  ‘Well, that’s actually a punishment,’ said Dad, glaring at me.

  ‘Good use of discipline,’ said one of the other men.

  Dad gave an official nod. It was interesting seeing him like this – on his very best behaviour. Naturally, I wanted to see more.

  As soon as they’d gone inside, I put the rake down and tiptoed over to one of the windows. I peered inside and watched as the three men sat down in the living room opposite Dad. It was hard to hear what was being said, but it looked very serious and there was a lot of nodding going on.

  Mum carried in a tray filled with afternoon tea and put it onto the coffee table. She took a small black device from the tray and put it in front of Dad. It was the phone.

  Dad smiled and picked up the phone to show the other men. He pointed to the TV and waved his arms about. The men laughed and that seemed to relax Dad.

  Then, Dad did something terrible. He turned the phone on. I gulped. I knew the phone had made me smash the plate and cup, and now I was fearful of what it would do to Dad.

  A strange look swept over him and he stood up. He gazed around the room with wild eyes and started shaking uncontrollably. The three men from the bank looked very confused and they began to frown.

  Dad started singing like an opera singer and I could hear him through the window. His voice was loud and clear. He held the phone up high as he sang at the top of his voice.

  ‘I LOVE YOOOOUUUUUU! YOU MAKE ME SMILE!’

  The men were clearly shocked. This was no ordinary job interview!

  Dad started twirling around, doing a ridiculous dance in front of them. He was acting completely out of his mind. The smartphone had taken hold of his brain and it was ruining the job interview.

  He suddenly stopped dancing and leaped up onto the coffee table, kicking Mum’s afternoon tea out of his way and onto the carpet. Bits of biscuit and tea sprayed across the living-room floor.

  One of the men pulled out his own mobile phone and started filming Dad’s shocking behaviour. Dad seemed to like the extra attention and started acting like a chicken, flapping his arms wildly about and thrusting his neck backwards and forwards.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I don’t think anybody could believe what they were seeing. Mum ran into the room and put her hands up to her cheeks, screaming. Dad wheeled around to face her, a crazed look in his eye. Mum screamed again and ran straight out of the room.

  The man filming Dad on his mobile phone started laughing. The other two men were frowning and shaking their heads.

  Dad dived off the coffee table and landed headfirst on the couch. He started pretending to swim on the couch and began barking like a dog. Then he jumped up and ran out of the room, returning seconds later with a pair of his red underpants. He quickly put them on over his suit pants and jumped back onto the coffee table.

  ‘I AM BRUCE THE BRUISER!’ he bellowed, beating his chest. One of the men stood up to try to calm him down, but Dad grabbed him around the waist and lifted him above his head, just like Bruce would do. Another one of the men leaped up to protect his friend, but Dad kicked him out of the way. All the while, the third man was filming the whole thing on his mobile phone.

  That was the last I ever saw of the smartphone. After I told Dad that I had dropped it into the washing-up water, he threw it away.

  Dad lost his job at the bank and he blamed the whole thing on the phone.

  ‘It was like my whole brain was out of control,’ he said. ‘Now I know why you smashed the plate and cup, Phillip.’

  While Dad was happy to throw the phone out, I was sad. I actually think the smartphone knew what it was doing all along. You see, the man from the bank who had filmed Dad’s rampage uploaded the video onto the internet. It quickly went viral and was on all the websites and television shows. Dad could not even walk down the street without somebody recognising him.

  A few days after the video had gone viral, Dad got a call from an acting agency that said they had been searching for someone with his looks for a long time. Dad was thrilled. So was Mum.

  He now works part-time as an actor and makes more money than he did at the bank. Plus, Mum gets to see him all the time and so do I. And the best part is that I can now watch as much wrestling as I like. Dad says it is good for my imagination.

  It has only ever happened once and I doubt it will happen again. Last year, at around one o’clock on 13th December, every single student at Milford Junior School was put on detention. Can you imagine that?

  The day before the mass punishment, I was having my morning tea in the playground when Jimmy Webb raced up to me.

  ‘Hi, Jimmy,’ I said, biting into my apple. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘You’ll never believe it!’ he panted. ‘Gavin’s Gold! Think I found it!’

  Jimmy was talking about Milford Junior School’s greatest mystery. It was a mystery that nobody had been able to solve for a hundred years. Somewhere, hidden inside one of the school buildings, was a bag filled with gold – Gavin’s Gold.

 

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