Freddy Tangles Read online

  To my awesome kids, Ali, Tom and Hari, who are my constant joy and inspiration.

  First published in 2015

  Copyright © Text, Jack Brand 2015

  Copyright © Illustrations, Tom Jellett 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

  Allen & Unwin

  83 Alexander Street

  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.allenandunwin.com

  A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the National Library of Australia

  www.trove.nla.gov.au

  ISBN 978 1 76011 034 5

  eISBN 978 1 92526 827 0

  Cover and text design by Liz Seymour

  Cover and internal illustrations by Tom Jellett

  I really hurt myself bad this time.

  ‘Banged up good and proper,’ is what my dad said.

  ‘Look at you, lad, you’re a mess!’

  And I am. If you could see my face you would know just how smashed up I am … oh wait! You can see it…

  And it really hurts to smile, but I can’t help it because all my friends are sitting around my table laughing and cheering and Mum has put out so much food, including my favourite drink, lemon punch! Everyone’s laughing about that, after what happened to my face.

  ‘Want some more punch, Freddy?’

  ‘Had enough punch, thanks, Cooper.’

  Scabs plunges his hands into a bowl. ‘I’m going to eat these lollies until I get sick!’

  I have had the most amazing day.

  But before I tell you about my amazing day, I should introduce myself.

  My name is Frederick Augustus Reginald Tangles.

  Kind of long, isn’t it, and a bit embarrassing. I can’t even spell it right half the time.

  Luckily, most people just call me Freddy, or Freddy Tangles, which isn’t embarrassing, unless they add something to it like,

  Freddy, your fly is down!

  Or,

  Freddy Tangles! Did you just eat your snot?

  Or,

  Freddy, do you want to play with my dollies?

  That last one is my little sister, Jessica. We share a bedroom and I don’t mind playing with her and her dollies … I just wish she wouldn’t ask when I have friends over. She only does it to embarrass me.

  And she can be scary too, like if she says, ‘I’ve got lumps in my bottom,’ don’t ask, just run, because the lumps in her bottom are farts!

  I also have a dog called Mince. He’s old and grumpy, though sometimes he forgets he’s old and he jumps about like a puppy.

  My dad is pretty much the same as Mince.

  They even look the same.

  My best friend is Blocker.

  I haven’t known him very long. His family is from Russia and he knows really cool Russian sayings like, ‘A fly cannot enter a closed mouth.’

  He says that when I talk too much. Most people just tell me to stop blabbering or something worse, but Blocker says, ‘A fly cannot enter a closed mouth.’

  I think that’s pretty cool and also useful information.

  Sometimes I talk too much on purpose just so he’ll say it. He also says,

  ‘Do not make an elephant out of a fly.’

  He says that when I get mad.

  Blocker and I have been best friends ever since I saved his life.

  I really did!

  I was outside my house kicking dog biscuits to Mince.

  We play it all the time. I pretend I’m kicking goals for my team and Mince is the goalkeeper. Only goalkeepers don’t usually swallow the ball when they save one.

  Mince and I were playing when I saw this kid, who I later found out was Blocker, being hassled by a big person down the street.

  The big person was grabbing him by his clothes and messing with his hair, and Blocker’s voice was all high and whiny, saying, ‘Stop it, stop, get off me!’

  I decided that I had to help him, so I went over and said, ‘Hey, leave him alone!’ But the big person just pointed a big finger in my face and growled, ‘You stay out of it!’

  And it seemed like good advice, like what could a kid my size do anyway? But then I saw the answer to my question. It was staring me straight in the face.

  I snuck up behind the big person, reached out and yanked on their pants. They flew down!

  And there I was, staring at the biggest pair of pink undies I’d ever seen.

  So easy! It was a great distraction. Blocker escaped, and the big person, well, you never heard someone scream like that.

  It was all a bit scary but also funny. Actually, it was really funny, especially the way the big person ran off pulling their pants back up.

  Blocker and I have been best friends ever since, even though it turns out that maybe I didn’t save his life.

  Like I know I said I did and it really felt like I did, but … Look, it’s not my fault. It isn’t! I didn’t know what she looked like!

  As it turned out, the person I dakked was his mum!

  I know … I DAKKED HIS MUM!

  Then Block invited me over to his house and like, no way was I ever going over there!

  His mum would go nuts at me for sure. Block told me not to worry. He said that his mum loved Russian sayings and her favourite one of all time was,

  Even the Tsar needs to wear clothes.

  DON’T WORRY?!

  Don’t worry when her favourite saying was about wearing clothes?!

  I was pretty sure that if Blocker’s mum thought this Tsar person needed to wear clothes, then she would think that she needed to wear clothes too!

  I thought Blocker’s mum must hate me and there was no way I was going over to his house, ever. I was telling Block all this, and how I was going to have to leave my own home and live in a cave because my mum was going to find out for sure, when he shoved his finger right in my mouth and said, ‘A fly cannot enter a closed mouth.’

  I’ve got to say that sticking a finger in someone’s mouth really stops them from talking. I stopped talking straight away, like no way could a fly get in.

  Blocker explained that a Tsar is a Russian king and the saying means that good manners are essential, so even the king has to wear clothes.

  That was why Blocker’s mum was out on the street in the first place. She was making Block tuck his shirt in and fix his hair, because that’s good manners.

  As it turned out, Blocker’s mum was nice. She totally forgave me. And like, sure, whenever she answers the front door for me she backs away as if I’m going to dak her again, but that’s only natural because she’s like, scarred for life.

  Apart from that, we get on famously. All I have to say is, ‘Can I have another drink, PLEASE?’ Or, ‘Can I have another cookie, PLEASE?’ And she nearly always gives it to me, saying how much my manners are improving.

  Blocker’s not my only friend though. I meet with the old gang at the park after school. Our other friends aren’t allowed to go to the park without their parents because their parents think it’s too dangerous. Which is so wrong.

  My mum lets me go to the park all the time without her. Sometimes she thinks it’s so important that I go to the park on my own that she
yells it at me.

  ‘Get out, OUT! GET OUT AND GO TO THE PARK NOW!!!’

  I think she lets me go on my own because she knows how responsible and mature I am.

  And because I’m so mature I can look after all the other kids in the park who don’t have their parents there to look after them.

  That’s a big responsibility, because there’s nearly always someone in the park who needs looking after. Like my friend Kevin Ambleside. We call him Scabs because he’s always got scabs on his knees and elbows and even his face from falling over all the time.

  This is Scabs.

  I think the best falling over Scabs ever did was when he fell off his bike as usual, stood up, took one step and fell over again, only to stand up again and have this really big branch fall off the tree above him and land on his head.

  It was so funny.

  At least it was funny until the branch fell on his head. He had to go to hospital after that.

  Anyway, when he came back he had this really big scab on the top of his head where they had to shave off some of his hair to put stitches in. It looked really gross. You could see bits of dried blood and lumps between the stitches.

  Tabitha Henry is in the park a lot too.

  We call her Tabby. She’s really smart and I like her a lot, even if she does disagree with me all the time.

  She’s always saying, ‘Would you rather be a blah blah or a blah blah?’

  For instance, when Scabs was carried away by the ambulance, Tabby asked, ‘Would you rather have a tree branch fall on your head or get a needle?’

  She asked that because the ambulance person gave Scabs a needle and while he was getting it he was going ouch ouch because the needle hurt so much, but when the tree fell on him he didn’t say ouch at all. He just lay there all quiet.

  I said I would rather have the tree fall on me. Like, even though it knocked him out, he did get to ride in an ambulance, and no-one would ever actually choose to have a needle if they didn’t have to.

  Of course, Tabby chose to have the needle.

  I said, ‘Have you ever been chased by a bee?’

  She said yes, and I said, ‘So why did you run?’ She said, ‘Because they sting you,’ so I said, ‘Yeah, and it only has a tiny stinger. Imagine getting stung by a bee with a stinger the size of a needle!’

  That’s how much needles hurt.

  She was about to disagree. I knew she was because she always does, but then something worse than needles happened.

  I touched Tabby’s tongue with my tongue.

  This little kid dropped his ice cream on the ground right in front of us. When he tried to pick it up his mum wouldn’t let him because it was dirty, so the kid ran off crying.

  I had to act fast because our family has a ten-second rule, like if something falls on the ground it can still be eaten if it hasn’t been there for more than ten seconds.

  Time was running out so I snatched it up, but Tabby wanted it too because her family has the same rule, only their rule is a twenty-second rule, which is gross!

  Imagine eating something that’s been lying on the ground for like, fifteen seconds!

  So we had to share it and we had to be quick because it was melting…

  … and that’s when we touched tongues and, I have to say, I have never tasted anything so slimy and weird as Tabby’s tongue.

  It was like licking a dead slug. Not that I’ve ever done that … well okay, but that was a dare and I got five War Smackers and anyway, it was alive, not dead.

  Tabby’s tongue tasted so strange that I thought there might be something wrong with her.

  When I got home I asked Jessica to stick her tongue out at me. She was only too pleased to do that.

  When I tried to lick it to find out if her tongue tasted weird too, she wouldn’t let me. She thought I was trying to get her back for the time we had a competition for the longest tongue and when I won she put dirt on my tongue.

  Mum wouldn’t do it either, saying she didn’t know where my tongue had been and like, it hadn’t been anywhere.

  The only person who would let me touch tongues with them was Mince. His tongue tasted okay. Quite nice really.

  Anyway, I’ve started staring at the white wall in my bedroom for like hours without stopping and it’s so cool!

  And exciting.

  What I do is, I sit in my chair and stare at the wall trying not to blink.

  Did you know that if you stare at a white wall for long enough and want it bad enough, your eyes will start to shoot laser beams?

  I swear it’s true.

  LASER-BEAM EYES!

  How cool is that?

  I’ve been trying really hard with my staring but I haven’t started to shoot laser beams yet. I just need more time. I think maybe I’m blinking too much or not staring for long enough, so my plan is to stare at the wall for an entire night without blinking.

  When I do get my laser-beam power I’m going to use it for the good of all people of the Earth.

  Like, for starters, I’m pretty sure my sister is evil so I’m planning to laser beam her…

  I’m not joking either, I really think she might be evil. It’s only just happened, ever since she discovered a terrible secret about me … I’m a deep sleeper!

  It’s turned her evil. Yesterday I woke up with salt in my eyes.

  I’ve also woken up with a feather stuck up my nose! Another time there was water in my bed so it looked like I wet myself, and the worst time, I woke up with peanut butter on my fingers to make me think it was poo.

  She thinks it’s hilarious and I can’t stop her because I’m asleep!

  She’s not the only evil thing I need to defeat with laser beams either. There’s also this guy, Sid Malone.

  He used to go to our school … until he got expelled for fighting. I don’t really remember him at school because he’s older than us.

  When he comes to the park with his gang we try to hide. He’s already wrecked one of my skateboards and once he chucked my bike in a puddle. He also shoved Tabby over after she told him to go away. I told him that he shouldn’t push people over and he came at me, but luckily some big person yelled, ‘Oi! Malone, you leave those kids alone! Go pick on someone your own size!’

  I’m just glad I wasn’t his size.

  Since then I’ve been extra scared of Sid because as he left he said, ‘I’ll get you later, Freddy dead-ee.’

  That’s what he said!

  Freddy dead-ee!

  I remember Tabby once asking, ‘What would you rather do, tell Sid Malone he smells or tell the principal he smells?’

  That was easy. I would tell the principal.

  Knowing that Sid might be after me is a big worry, but it’s nothing compared to what happened after the worst day of my life.

  And I mean the worst.

  It started early.

  I was playing with Mince and Jessica upstairs like we always do before school when for no reason Jessica started to cry. Only it wasn’t normal crying. It was so loud that the windows started to rattle and people in cars out on the street stopped and looked up at our house, no joke. I even heard a tile slide off our roof and crash onto the ground.

  Now I don’t think I did anything particularly bad.

  I didn’t!

  We were just playing a game, the same game we’d played a hundred times before and she never cried.

  She started screaming,

  ‘FREDDY KICKED ME!’

  And it’s true, I did kick her.

  BUT THAT WAS THE GAME!

  We were playing Kick the Bug on My Bum. She kicked my bum after saying, ‘Oh no, there’s a fly on your bum, I’ll kick it off.’

  Then it was her turn and I said, ‘Oh no, there’s a cockroach on your bum.’ And I kicked her!

  Hardly worth freaking about!

  Okay, so I did say she had a cockroach on her bum and she really does hate cockroaches but they ARE still bugs so it was still allowed in the rules. No reason to go mental. And oka
y, I suppose I did say, ‘Oh no, no really, there’s five cockroaches right there and they’re crawling all over your bum!’

  And I suppose she didn’t like it that I had to kick her bum five times, and I suppose I did throw a dead cockroach in her hair…

  Now I know that sounds pretty cruel of me but I couldn’t take it anymore. Just that morning, while I was asleep, Jessica climbed up to the light fitting in our room, took it down and emptied the dead bugs inside it all over my face. She topped it off by putting a dead moth on my nose so when I woke up it looked like there was a monster moth attacking me. When I opened my mouth in surprise, heaps of little bugs dropped in.