Free Blabber Mouth by Morris Gleitzman Page B

again.
    Dad was staring up, not moving a muscle.
    Then he turned and looked at me.
    I looked back at him as calmly as I could, even though my heart was thumping like a ten-million-watt compressor.
    It was so loud I could only just hear the plane flying off into the distance.
    Then everyone started talking in puzzled tones and Amanda grabbed my arm again.
    â€˜How did you do that?’ she said.
    The people around us stared.
    â€˜I wish I could get my Dad to pay attention like that,’ said Amanda wistfully. ‘Gee, you’re clever.’
    I looked at her wide-eyed face and hoped she was right.
    Because when I looked back over at Dad, he’d gone.
    I knew that would probably happen. I knew he’d need a few moments to think about it. Before we talk.
    The other parents were whispering and pointing at me and frowning, but I could tell that inside they knew it had to be done.
    After a few moments I went looking for Dad.
    He wasn’t in the marquee.
    He wasn’t in any of the classrooms.
    He wasn’t in the Gents.
    I went back to the oval thinking perhaps he’d decided to buy a book called How To Win Friends And Influence People which had been the next item in the auction, but when I got there the auction was over and people were starting to leave.
    Amanda came running up.
    â€˜I just saw him driving out of the car park,’ she said breathlessly.
    I knew that might happen. I knew he might need a bit longer to think about it. Before we talk.
    Amanda was looking at me in a very concerned way, so I explained to her that everything was under control.
    Ms Dunning saw me and started to come over, but then Darryn Peck, who’d got overexcited at his big brother being the centre of attention, managed to set fire to one of the marquee flaps and Ms Dunning had to attend to that.
    Mr and Mrs Cosgrove came over.
    Mr Cosgrove was beaming.
    â€˜Well, young lady,’ he said, ‘for someone who can’t speak, you certainly put that loud-mouthed father of yours in his place.’
    Amanda squeezed my hand, which helped me not to do anything ugly.
    They’ve just given me a lift home.
    I made Mr Cosgrove drop me at the bottom of the orchard road because I don’t think Dad’ll want to see him at the moment.
    I’m not even sure he’ll want to see me.

Searching the orchard was a waste of time because after I’d searched the house and the shed I realised the truck’d gone so it stands to reason he has too but I searched the orchard anyway because a tiny part of me was hoping he was playing the game we used to play when I was a little kid where he’d hide in our old orchard and I’d have to try and find him and as I got closer and closer he’d make little raspberry noises with his mouth to give me a clue and when I found him he’d let me walk back to the house in his boots even though they came over my knees and I did a pee in one of them once.
    He wasn’t.
    He’s gone.
    If I say it in my head enough times I’ll get used to it and stop feeling so numb and then I can think what to do.
    He’s gone.
    He’s gone.
    He’s gone.
    I’m still numb.
    I can’t even stand up.
    I’ve been sitting here since I came back from the orchard and saw the letters on the kitchen table.
    One was my letter to him from Carla Tamworth.
    The other was in his writing on a piece of Rice Bubbles packet.
    â€˜Dear Ro,’ it said, ‘I feel pretty crook about all this and I don’t want to think about it right now so I’m taking a hike. Go and stay with Amanda. Dad.’
    He never calls me Ro.
    On the table under the letters was eighty dollars.
    Then I saw the cupboard where I’d stuffed the Carla Tamworth letter.
    The door was open and the old bottle of rum that Dad hadn’t chucked away in case a visitor wanted a drink was lying on the floor.
    Empty.
    That’s when I knew I’d lost him.

Amanda and her family were pretty