Snake was shell-shocked. He spun around in hapless circles, snapping at an invisible enemy. He looked like he was attacking the air. He must have made himself dizzy because he zigzagged all the way back to his house, bumping into the letterbox as he hastily retreated.

  ‘The neighbourhood is safe for another day,’ I said, as we walked back to Tiger’s house.

  ‘We finally got him,’ chuckled Tiger. ‘The little boys and girls can sleep well tonight.’

  We quickly reached Tiger’s house where Finn, who had snuck back earlier, was waiting for us.

  ‘What happened?!’ he yelled out upon seeing us.

  ‘You should have seen him,’ said Tiger, imitating the ferocious dog.

  ‘So you got him?’ asked Finn, now bursting with excitement.

  ‘Get him?’ I replied. ‘He got got like nothing else!’

  Finn cracked up.

  Tiger walked over to the bin on his driveway and spat his chewing gum inside.

  ‘What’s this?’ he said suddenly, a strange expression filling his face. He reached into the bin and lifted out an empty bottle of white glue.

  ‘One of the paint bottles,’ said Finn, stepping over to have a closer look.

  I could see from where I was standing that the label clearly said ‘glue’. Tiger and I looked at each other. I swallowed hard.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Tiger, looking as white as the empty bottle of glue. ‘We’re in for it.’

  ‘What do you mean you didn’t know it was glue?’ Mum glared at me, clearly unimpressed.

  ‘Snake’s owner was on the phone to your father for over an hour! Tiger’s mother dobbed you in and none of us are impressed!’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ I said. ‘We really didn’t know. We just wanted to protect the little kids.’

  ‘But how could you not know it was glue?’ she demanded. ‘Snake is stuck inside his kennel. They can’t get him out. He’s glued inside!’

  I looked down at my shoes, not knowing what to say.

  ‘And this silly toothache!’ Mum complained, holding her jaw with the flat of her hand. ‘I’ve never felt so much pain. Dr Sharpe only made things worse! What a ridiculous day!’

  She stormed off to the laundry.

  ‘Mate, that was not a smart idea,’ said Dad, giving me a disappointed look. ‘Your mother and I think you should be grounded for a month for that little stunt.’

  The next morning on the way to school, I swapped stories with the Jones brothers. Tiger explained that he and Finn had been grounded for two weeks. He also explained that Snake’s owner had decided to keep Snake on a chain in his backyard.

  ‘He reckons he doesn’t want his dog mixing with wild kids,’ said Tiger. ‘I’d take two weeks for that anytime!’

  ‘I can do better,’ I said. ‘I’m grounded for a whole month.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Finn. ‘A whole month. That’s, like, 56 days or something.’

  When we arrived at school, a strange scene greeted us. A small crowd had gathered at the front gate, so we walked over to the huddle of boys to take a closer look. In the middle of the circle, and looking very pale and sore, was Pete O’Davis, a Year Nine boy. Wrapped around his head, holding his jaw firmly in place, was a huge bandage. He seemed to be in a lot of pain and he couldn’t speak.

  Tiger, who was in the same football team as Pete, looked concerned and quickly burst through the circle of boys and stood next to Pete.

  ‘Okay, break it up, lads. Off to class or you’ll be late.’

  One of the high school teachers stood at the edge of the gathering. He signalled to us to head to our lessons. A few groans went up. Clearly, the other boys wanted to find out what had happened to Pete.

  As I sat in class that day, I couldn’t help but think about Pete O’Davis and his bandaged jaw. I was eager to ask Tiger about it and I jumped onto the opportunity as soon as school finished.

  ‘What on earth happened to Pete?’ I asked, as we started the walk back home.

  ‘Dr Sharpe,’ said Tiger. ‘Poor old Pete went off to what he thought was a regular dental check-up, but Sharpe had other ideas.’

  ‘I told you he was a maniac,’ said Finn, kicking at a stick that lay across the footpath.

  ‘What did the dentist do?’ I asked, holding my hand up to my face, making sure my teeth were still intact.

  ‘Ripped out three of his teeth with hedge cutters,’ replied Tiger.

  ‘Didn’t even use painkillers,’ added Finn.

  ‘But . . . that is just ridiculous,’ I said. ‘Man, I am scared of dentists at the best of times. I can’t believe Mum went to him.’

  ‘Maybe you should ask your mum about him,’ suggested Tiger. He paused, then suddenly grabbed my arm and turned to me. ‘That’s it!’ he cried. ‘Find out what you can. Find out anything.

  Find out everything! Then the three of us can use the information to set him up! We can prank him out of business. If we can stop a vicious dog, we can stop a vicious dentist!’

  ‘Of course!’ I cried. ‘He’s gonna get got!’

  Over the next few weeks, I began to quiz Mum about Dr Sharpe. While being grounded was a horrible punishment, it gave me more of an opportunity to do some homework on my next target. In what seemed like no time at all, I had found out the address of Sharpe’s surgery, information about the inside rooms and the phone number of his receptionist. I made it a habit to walk to and from school with Tiger and Finn, and we began to form a wonderful plan. This was going to be one of the greatest pranks of all time – one that would put the horrible Dr Sharpe out of business. The one problem that remained for us was gaining access to his surgery, and the only way to do that was by being a patient. One of us would have to be brave enough to sit in his dentist chair.

  I tried asking Mum about Dr Sharpe, but she was still upset with me for gluing Snake inside his kennel. She didn’t want to talk about the dentist in any case, because her tooth was still sore.

  I continued making the most of my grounding by playing jokes on Gracie at every possible moment. I put a fake snake in her bed, glued her pen to her desk, set her alarm for three o’clock in the morning, changed her toothpaste to tomato sauce and even let my pet mouse, Clifford, loose in her bedroom. Each time I played a joke on her, she would scream in frustration and either chase me or run to tell Mum and Dad.

  ‘You got got!’ I would tease, pleased I still had the magical joker’s touch. It was important to stay in good form during the lead-up to such a big prank. But one night at dinner, a conversation took place that would change everything.

  Mum’s toothache had continued troubling her, and she decided she needed to go back to Dr Sharpe.

  Gracie urged her to reconsider. ‘But Mum, you said it got worse when you went there before. I don’t think you should go back.’

  Again, I thought about how strange it was that Mum would change dentists. Dr Kippax was very friendly, and we had been going there for years. Even I, someone who feared dentists, had come out of Dr Kippax’s practice alive.

  ‘Gracie, I know it’s a risk,’ said Mum, looking worried. ‘But it is so much cheaper than Dr Kippax, and we really can’t afford much at the moment.’

  Dad rested his knife on the edge of his plate and looked thoughtfully at the table for a while. Then he said something terrible.

  ‘Your mother and I have been talking about this, kids, and we actually think it’s time for both of you to have a check-up, too.’

  My stomach churned and twisted into a very tight knot. I looked at Gracie and could tell she was feeling the same way.

  ‘No way!’ I shouted, pushing the chair out from behind me and standing up. ‘You can’t make us! I’m not going! This is crazy!’

  ‘Sorry, Gus . . . I’ve already booked you in. We’re going next Thursday,’ said Mum.

  I threw my serviette onto the table and ran up to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. This couldn’t be happening.

  ‘But that’s perfect!’ beamed a wide-eyed Tiger the next morning. ‘You can actually get in there and do what we’ve planned. It’s just perfect!’

  My stomach was still in knots from the night before and I looked at Tiger desperately.

  ‘I can’t do it,’ I said. ‘I can’t be the one who goes in. I’m too scared of dentists, let alone this crank.’

  ‘But think of the plan,’ replied Tiger. ‘If it comes off you won’t even have to be in there long. You will be known as the greatest prankster of all time!’

  ‘I don’t know, Tiger,’ I said quietly. ‘I really don’t think I can do this.’

  We continued our walk to school. I didn’t know what to say. Tiger was such a cool guy and I didn’t want him thinking I was a wimp. But when it came to dentists, there was nothing I was more afraid of.

  My mood changed a little that afternoon. Tiger, Finn and I decided to walk home via Chester Avenue because, since our prank a few weeks ago, Snake had changed. He was a different dog. Kids had started walking past number 99 on their way to and from school without any fear. Snake was now usually found hiding under a chair on his front porch, too timid to make any threats at the passers-by.

  ‘Hiiiii Snake,’ we teased, waving cheekily to the dog under the chair. Snake let out a half-hearted bark. Finn pulled a yellow balloon from his pocket and began to blow it up. Snake took one look at the balloon and then howled, standing up quickly. Being a big dog, the chair got caught on his shoulders and lifted off the porch. He then scampered to his kennel with the chair balancing on his shoulders, being piggybacked all the way. It was a sight to see. The former terror of the neighbourhood was now giving free rides to porch chairs, all while sporting a new hairstyle – shaved bald on one side.

  ‘Hehe,’ giggled Finn, letting the air out of the balloon. ‘You got got. That made my day better.’

  ‘Why? Was your day bad?’ I asked.

  ‘Yep, pretty bad,’ replied Finn, putting the balloon back into his pocket. ‘Larry Thompson and I were supposed to do our project today, but he was away. Heard he went to Sharpe yesterday afternoon, and nobody has heard from him since.’

  That same, familiar sick feeling returned to my stomach.

  ‘I have to get out of next Thursday,’ I said.

  That afternoon, I sat in my bedroom, determined to think of a way, or an excuse, to get out of my visit to the dentist. I drew sketches on paper and searched through my box of jokes and tricks, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with a plan. Thursday was approaching and that meant I would have to face Dr Sharpe.

  I thought about the prank. Perhaps it was the best option after all.

  Thursday morning came around quickly.

  ‘Gus! It’s half past seven! You’ll be late for school!’ Mum’s voice bellowed, waking me abruptly.

  ‘Mum, I don’t feel so well,’ I moaned, rolling over. I had to try something.

  ‘Nonsense, Gus!’ she snapped, ripping the sheets off me. ‘Get up now!’

  I couldn’t concentrate during school that day. Each lesson was a big, dizzying blur. All I could think about was pain and garden tools. Images of jars filled with teeth floated around my mind. I imagined scary-looking men dressed in white coats towering over me, wrenching my mouth wide open, plunging their steel tools deep inside.

  In what seemed like no time, the final school bell sounded and I was sitting in the back seat of the car, heading for Dr Sharpe’s surgery.

  ‘Just get out of the car, Gus!’ groaned Mum, clearly losing patience with me.

  Gracie added, ‘Come on. I don’t want to do it, either, but we have no choice.’

  I opened the car door and stepped out into Dr Sharpe’s car park. My sweaty hand slipped off the car door handle as I closed it behind me.

  Dr Sharpe’s name was painted in big, white letters across the entrance of the building. It looked quite new. We entered through the main door, and Gracie and I sat down in the waiting area while Mum went and spoke to the receptionist. My nerves were making me quite twitchy and I could feel each heartbeat pounding through my body. I thought of the plan.

  As I sat there, swallowing hard and staring into space, I began to lose track of time. At one point I turned to look for Gracie, but she had disappeared. Mum was gone, too. I shut my eyes and leaned forward, resting my head in my hands.

  Sometime later, I looked up to see Gracie being guided by Mum, coming out of the operating room. White bits of material, stained with red, hung from between her lips, and she looked shaky. Mum quickly guided her to the female bathrooms and they disappeared inside, the door swinging after them.

  ‘Gus, please,’ said the dental assistant, walking over to me. ‘You’re next.’

  I stood helplessly and followed her into the operating room.

  Once inside, she had me sit on the large reclining chair in the middle of the room. She then positioned a large light above my head and switched it on. With the light shining down on me, she wrapped some dark material around my head, covering my eyes. Things had gone from bad to worse. I couldn’t see. I sat, frozen, trying not to move or do anything.

  The chair suddenly lurched back and I scrunched up my face, letting out an enormous scream.

  ‘NOOOOO!’

  I heard the footsteps of the assistant move towards the back of the room. She called for Dr Sharpe, and his heavy footsteps moved slowly into the surgery room.

  ‘HELP!’ I screamed at the top of my voice. ‘SOMEBODY . . . HELP ME, PLEASE!’

  The last thing I remember hearing was the sound of the dentist’s plastic gloves stretch and then snap onto his hands. Then I passed out.

  When I eventually opened my eyes, a strange sight confronted me. Mum, Dad and Gracie were in the surgery, looking down at me with a bizarre mixture of worry and sheer delight on their faces.

  ‘Ummm, Gus,’ said Gracie softly. ‘You got got.’

  ‘You got got indeed,’ said Mum.

  ‘Actually, you got got big time!’ beamed Dad, poking me in the side with his finger.

  Dr Kippax stepped into view.

  ‘Hello, Gus,’ she said. ‘I think I may have just got you, too.’

  ‘Dr Kippax?’ I said, somewhat confused. ‘What are you doing here?’

  She straightened her long, blonde hair and then looked at my parents, winking.

  ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘He didn’t even know I got married. You really did get him a beauty.’

  As we drove back home that afternoon, I tried to make sense of what had happened.

  ‘So, Dr Sharpe was actually Dr Kippax all along?’ I asked.

  ‘Yep,’ said Mum.

  ‘Her name changed when she got married to Graham Sharpe, the builder,’ added Dad.

  I wanted to know more.

  ‘Did she move into that new building?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Dad. ‘She’s an excellent dentist and has been doing very well, so she wanted to upgrade.’

  My head was still spinning.

  ‘But what about your sore tooth, Mum?’ I asked.

  ‘Did I ever tell you I went to acting school when I was younger?’ she replied, trying not to laugh. ‘I faked the whole thing. There is nothing wrong with my tooth at all! I can’t believe I fooled you, Gus!’

  ‘But what about the blood in Gracie’s mouth?’ I asked, remembering the frightful scene.

  ‘Easy,’ said Gracie. ‘Dr Kipp – I mean, Sharpe – was in on it, too. We just faked the whole thing.’

  ‘But what about the stories from Tiger and Finn?! What about all those kids at school?!’

  I stared at Gracie.

  ‘Oh, that was easy, too,’ she said, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Tiger and I have been talking on the phone for a while, so as soon as I told him we were going to play a joke on you, he volunteered himself and Finn to help out. Tiger and I helped Dad plan the whole thing.’

  ‘But what about Pete O’Davis, the guy in Tiger’s football team?!’

  I was determined to find a fault in the plan.

  ‘Football injury,’ said Gracie. ‘He was involved in a bad tackle and had to get his jaw bandaged up. He’s okay now.’

  ‘And Larry Thompson? The kid in Finn’s class?!’

  Gracie laughed. ‘Away on holidays. Even Finn was good enough to fool you!’

  Dad turned to look at me while the car was stopped at a red light. ‘I’ve been planning this for ages, Gus,’ he said. ‘Your old man hasn’t lost his skill, it seems. I thought we could teach you a thing or two about pranking . . . especially considering how much you love to get people.’

  ‘Man,’ I said, realising how brilliant and successful his plan had been. ‘I got got. I really got got . . .’

  ‘Lara! Don’t feed the seagulls!’

  Dad was cross.

  ‘But it’s just the crumbs,’ I replied. That was my first lie. I had actually thrown away a perfectly good chip. A chip covered in tomato sauce. And chicken salt. A chip Dad would love to have eaten. He always wanted more.

  ‘Then what do you call that?’ he asked, pointing to the tomato-sauced chicken-salt chip, which was now lying in the sand.

  ‘Dinner for two,’ I said, as a couple of seagulls moved in on the action. ‘Jaz threw that there,’ I added. That was my second lie.

  ‘Did not!’ protested my younger sister. ‘Mitch put it there!’ She turned to look at my toddler brother. He was always in trouble. Usually for stuff that Jaz and I did. We were good at blaming him. Actually, I was good at blaming Jaz and she was good at blaming Mitch.

  Dad took away the rest of Mitch’s chips. ‘No more for you then,’ he said firmly. Mitch started crying. Silly Mitch.

  ‘Ahhh, this is the life,’ said Dad, turning to look at the ocean. ‘Come on, kids, stop mucking around and enjoy the scenery. Smell the salty air. Look at the waves, the sand, the birds. Isn’t it great?’

  ‘It sure is,’ said Mum, who had just come back from the shops with our ice creams. ‘Now, who wanted chocolate?’

  Mum was holding five ice-cream cones between her hands. Our family is crazy about ice cream. There is always plenty of it at home. Sometimes, Dad gets cranky because there is never room for anything else in the freezer. I think Mum gives in to Mitch’s tantrums when they go shopping together. She always comes back with more ice cream when she goes shopping with Mitch. Silly Mitch.

 

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