Belly Flop by Morris Gleitzman Read Free Book Online Page B

can’t even swim and that trip to the coast was their only chance to learn.
    I could see what they were thinking.
    Andy Howard was thinking that if he ever visits a Mexican food factory and falls into a vat of taco dip and finds he can’t eat it fast enough, he’ll drown.
    Sheena Bullock was thinking that if she and her dog join the police force and chase smugglers and her dog gets hit on the head with a surfboard stuffed with jewels, she’ll never be able to swim over and rescue him.
    Danielle Wicks was thinking that when she becomes Prime Minister, if she falls into that lake in Canberra she’ll be history.
    Carla Fiami was looking sadder than any of them.
    I reckon she was thinking about her childhood growing up on the coast and how she’ll probably never get to have another swim ever again.
    I knew what they were all thinking because I was thinking about my future life too.
    Not a life of international sporting glory and having my picture taken with Dad for the bowls club newsletter.
    A life of being hounded from town to town and only being spoken to by the kids of dentists and parking inspectors.
    A life of brooding how close I’d come to saving my family.
    And how I’d failed.
    I looked up at Ms Dorrit on the stage.
    â€˜You can’t,’ I said.
    She looked stunned, then glared down at me.
    My mouth was dryer than a lawn sprinkler.
    â€˜You can’t cancel the excursion,’ I croaked. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like to drown in taco dip?’
    It was a pretty dumb thing to say, but it didn’t matter because Ms Dorrit ignored it.
    â€˜I didn’t choose this, Mitch Webber,’ she said. ‘It breaks my heart too.’
    I didn’t know I was gunna say the next thing till I’d said it.
    â€˜Bull,’ I said to Ms Dorrit. ‘If you really cared you’d get our pool here in town filled so the kids and dogs of this district could learn to swim and we could have our own swimming carnival.’
    Ms Dorrit’s eyes narrowed.
    â€˜And diving competition,’ I said.
    She opened her mouth.
    For a sec I thought she was gunna say, ‘Good idea Mitch, I’ll order the water today.’
    Instead she just pointed to her room.
    As I walked out, she turned back to the assembly.
    â€˜It’s not my choice,’ she said. I’ve been contacted by many of your parents. They’ve told me they just don’t have the money for an excursion, not with the drought on, not with all their other financial problems.’
    As soon as she said that, every kid in the hall stopped looking at her and turned and looked at me.
    Not just looked at me, glared at me.
    Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
    All around me, eyes were ripping into me like bullets.
    Not just Troy and Brent Malley’s, everyone’s.
    I’ve never seen a hallful of kids looking so mean.
    If they’d had cattle trucks they’d have driven them over me there and then.
    My guts did a slow belly flop as I realised what they were thinking.
    I opened my mouth to try and explain, then gave it away.
    I knew they’d still be thinking what they were thinking even if I explained for hours.
    Even if I yelled till I was blue in the face.
    The excursion’s off, they were thinking, because of Mitch Webber’s dad.
    Oh well, thanks for making Ms Dorrit not expel me, Doug.
    I know you couldn’t do anything about the excursion.
    An angel’s job is to protect people, not fix up their travel arrangements or fill up their swimming pools.
    Some problems can only be solved by us people ourselves.
    That’s why instead of going back to class I’m squeezing through this hole in the school fence.

 
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    Mayors should be more polite and considerate, that’s what I reckon.
    If a person comes into their video store for a meeting, they should turn the volume down on their TV.
    How can anyone be expected to discuss serious council