Daredevils

Daredevils

by Bill Condon
Daredevils

Daredevils

by Bill Condon

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Overview

'I don't want to live longer – I want to live bigger.' Thorns may have only a short time to live, but he's determined to make every second count. And that's where Jack comes in. Safe and quiet, he's going to help the high-spirited Thorns fulfill his wish list. Challenging, touching and funny, Daredevils is a story about friendship, courage, the pursuit of dreams and the joy of living.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780702256882
Publisher: University of Queensland Press
Publication date: 09/01/2015
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 216
File size: 1 MB
Age Range: 9 Years

About the Author

Before devoting himself to novels, Bill Condon had a long and successful career as a writer of short stories, plays and poetry for young people. His work encompasses many genres and he has more than one hundred titles to his credit. He lives on the south coast of New South Wales with his wife, the well known children's author Di (Dianne) Bates. Bill's young adult novels, Dogs (2001) and No Worries (2005) were Honour Books in the CBCA Awards. No Worries was also short-listed for the Ethel Turner Prize in the 2005 NSW Premier's Literary Awards. In 2010, his young adult novel, Confessions Of A Liar, Thief And Failed Sex God won the inaugural Prime Minister's Literary Award. A Straight Line To My Heart is Bill's most recent young adult novel. In 2012 it was a CBCA Honour Book, and was short-listed in the Prime Minister's Literary Awards and the Ethel Turner Prize. Bill's latest book is the junior novel, The Simple Things, published in 2014.

Read an Excerpt

Daredevils


By Bill Condon

University of Queensland Press

Copyright © 2007 Bill Condon
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4587-6089-0


CHAPTER 1

Mister Moriarty pointed across the room.

'You can sit over there,' he said, 'next to Jack.'

The new kid sat down grinning, his eyes full of shiny lights.

'Hey,' he mouthed.

He was taller than me and almost as skinny, with a jungle of brown hair, big and wild.

I nodded back at him, my lips pressed tight together.

'Tony Thorne.' He whispered it but it was still loud.

'The gentlemen up the back. I'll do the talking here, if that's all right with you.' Moriarty glared straight at us.

The kid stood. 'Okay, Sir, but can I say one thing?'

He didn't give Moriarty a chance to say no.

'I just wanted everyone to know. Call me Tony if you like. But my friends call me Thorns.' He gave Moriarty the thumbs-up sign. 'Thanks, Sir.'

It was his lopsided grin that cracked the class up most. They laughed and they stared as if Thorns had stepped off the front cover of The World's Greatest Freaks and Geeks.

He sat down and dug his head into a book, the laughs echoing around him.

'Let's have some quiet now.' Moriarty glared again. 'That means you, too – the new lad. Pay attention!'

I was the kid who never quite got the joke, the bad haircut one always looking the wrong way in school photos, so I knew about being laughed at. I didn't like it and I tried not to do it to anyone else. Thorns must have been paying attention, because I was the one he stuck close to for the rest of that day, the one who didn't laugh.

As the days rolled on we got to know each other. He was happy, like nothing could ever knock him down, at least not for long. I wasn't unhappy, I was stuck deep in neutral. Not hated by anyone, not loved – unless you counted Mum and my dog Jess – and not even liked or disliked. I was sure that's the way it was always going to be. Some people save the world and some make up the numbers. But then Thorns stumbled along.

About the first thing we did together was make up secret lives for all of the teachers. Ms Green, of course, was a stripper, and Moriarty just had to be a vampire. The rest of them were zombies, werewolves, porn stars and various cartoon characters, and finally, my favourite teacher, Roger Morris, who everyone called Rigor Mortis, was a demented scientist who had a thing for sheep. Thorns only had to mouth 'baaa' at me across the classroom and I'd break up during Rigor's maths lesson.

'What's so funny, Jack?'

'Nothing, Sir.'

'Baaa.'

'Stand up the boy who made that noise.'

Thorns stood, grinning broadly.

Rigor wasn't a mad dog teacher. You could talk to him and joke around, and he knew the first name of every kid in the school. He had flesh and blood underneath the teacher suit. With Thorns he looked more puzzled than angry.

'I'm very curious to know why you did that, Tony.'

'Sorry, Sir.' As he hesitated you could almost see a wave of evil washing over him, that forced him to add, 'I was baaad.'

Detention.

I jumped to my feet.

'I was baaad, too.'

Detention for me, as well. Perfect.


Gradually I filled him in on everyone in the class, starting with the Three J's: Jenna, Jessica and Gemma.

They always sat next to each other and their bladders must have been hooked up to the same pipes because they all had to pee at the same time.

'But isn't one of them a G?' Thorns asked.

'If you want to be technical about it. But the Two J's and a G doesn't sound very good, does it?'

'You're right, Jack. They're the Three J's.'

I told him about Victor Balinki, a fat and awkward kid who was saved from the boat heading to Reject Land because he could pull brilliant music out of a guitar. And Cassandra whose face was an acne war zone. Her spots were sometimes big enough to have their own national flags. She became famous when she was much younger for punching a kid in class and bolting out of a window. Always had a temper, Cassandra. It flared up on her and she wasn't big on self-control. Now she was a package marked fragile and highly inflammable, which weren't great attributes when it came to making friends. About the only thing she had going for her was that her brains were bigger than her spots.

I didn't have to explain about Gavin Holland, Rod Herring or Dean Jarvey. They did that for themselves.

'Oops. Sorry, Jack.' This was said at top speed as Gavin raced past after sticking his elbow in my ribs. That sort of thing was always happening, and this: 'Oh, Cassandra, you're so hot.'

That was in a note from Rod that landed on her desk. He and Dean blew kisses as she read it. She screwed it up and threw it on the floor. Thorns turned around and stared at Rod. I knew he wanted to do something about it, but there were three of them and they had enough muscles between them for six.

I'd known Rod and Dean since they were junior jerks. Harmless enough if you left them alone. But then Gavin with his overgrown mean streak arrived and became their fearless leader. He taught them how to strut and snarl and lent them his copy of The Idiot's Guide to Being Sooo Tough. Pretty soon they were doing whatever they wanted and anyone with half a brain steered clear.

Then came the Friday that Victor Balinki spilled a carton of flavoured milk on Gavin.

'Sorry. It was an accident.'

'You dumb bastard.'

If he'd had his guitar handy Victor could have strummed his way out of trouble – or hit them on the head with it – but without his secret weapon he was only another fat kid with a lesson coming his way.

Gavin gave the word to Rod and Dean and the three up-ended Victor and dropped him in a garbage bin like last week's rubbish. I stood there like everyone else, pretending I was a statue. But Thorns waded in and helped Victor out of the bin, not caring that he got crap all over him. Then he went after them. He briefly turned back to see where I was. There was no calling me, only a look that said it loud and clear. I checked to see if the look was meant for someone else – someone brave. But I was the only one around.

'I know what you're thinking and it's not a good idea,' I shouted. 'Don't be stupid.'

But Thorns wasn't a good listener. I felt like I had to tag along.

'Hey, you guys.' He caught up to them as they were about to step onto the basketball court. 'You shouldn't have done that. It was an accident, you know? And you three against Victor, that wasn't fair.'

'Tough,' said Gavin.

'I think you should go back and say you're sorry. Don't you?'

Gavin worked the ball between his legs, step over, turn around – I am so hot.

'You tell him you're sorry if you like. Prick.'

He smirked at Thorns then shot a 'What a retard' look to Rod and Dean, before jogging onto the court.

'You tried, Thorns.' I tugged on his arm. Now leave it.'

'I can't.'

They were on the court bouncing and running when Thorns called out to them.

'You want to play against me? Three against one. I'll even give you a few points start.'

He looked like a red cordial overdose victim. I waited behind him – a funeral director expecting business.

They ignored him.

'Too chicken, are you?'

Not clever at all.

'Thought so,' Thorns went on. 'Anyway, why should I waste my time with wankers like you?'

I felt my feet walking away. I had to thump them into the ground, bury them so they wouldn't start running.

Gavin: 'You better take that back, fast.'

He was in Thorns' face, Rod and Dean doing their pit bull impersonations beside him.

'Don't feel like it.'

Dead. Dead. Thorns was so dead.

First it was a push from Gavin, and an air swing kick from Rod. Then Dean knelt down behind Thorns and he got a shove from the front and sprawled backwards.

I knew the boot was coming at any second.

Thorns looked up at me like he was drowning and I had the only rope in the world.

I wished I'd never met him.

'Leave him alone.'

Was that really me talking?

With the three of them briefly distracted, Thorns scrambled to his feet, but instead of breaking speed records for escapes, he stood his ground.

'Got me a team now.' He said it in a low voice that could have been a growl. 'You boys have got no chance. Bring it on.'

It was fantastic to be chosen for a team. But not this team. Bring it on? Did he have a death wish or what?

Rod looked around for witnesses. All clear. He slapped his hands together. No, he rubbed them eagerly. I felt sick in the stomach.

'Just say when,' he told Gavin.

'Ready when you are,' murmured Dean.

Thorns balled his fists and crouched low, his head weaving from side to side like he actually knew what he was doing. It was too late to beg for mercy, so stupidly I copied him, even though I looked like I had a bad case of Parkinson's with all the shaking.

I'd never been in a fight before.

But Gavin Holland still hadn't said 'when'.

'Come on.' Thorns bounced up and down as if he couldn't wait to get killed. 'What's the hold-up, guys? Let's get it on.'

Rod to Gavin: 'We doing this?'

Dean to the air: 'What's happening?'

Gavin: 'Aw, stuff it. Look at 'em. Piss-weak pussies. They're not worth the trouble.'

He actually turned to go, but Thorns, incredibly stupid Thorns, grabbed him by the shirt front.

'I am bloody worth the trouble.' With his free hand he pulled me in beside him. 'And so's he!'

A bolt of sudden pain. Blood on my face. Thorns was half up, half down, still swinging his arms about and doing serious damage to the air. But he wasn't beaten.

'You're still wankers.' His words were slurred from a swollen and bleeding lip. 'Always will be.'

Gavin put a hand behind his back and gave us the finger, but all three kept walking.

I checked for broken bones. Everything seemed to be in one slightly mangled piece. My nose stung but when I tilted my head back, the bleeding stopped. Best of all, it actually felt good to have copped a punch. Not the actual punch, of course, just that I hadn't run away. It made the whole business seem almost worth it.

'We showed them, eh?' Thorns said.

'You're such a fool,' I told him.

'I know that.' He poured out the red cordial grin again. 'But we showed them, eh?'

Yeah, I suppose we had.

CHAPTER 2

We cleaned up our cuts in the toilets. It was the tail end of lunchtime and we found ourselves a seat in the quadrangle under an oak tree. There were lots of kids running and shouting, but we blotted out the background noise and tuned in to the words.

'You're not a bad fighter, Jack.' He still had a piece of toilet paper pressed onto his lip. 'That Gavin, I bet he never expected you to punch him with your nose like that. Good strategy, mate.'

I couldn't remember much of the fight. One squelchy bash on the nose and it was all over for me. Now we were a couple of old soldiers reliving the battle.

'It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.' I gingerly touched my nose. 'I'll never be able to smell again, that's all.'

'Lucky for you, the way you stink.'

'Yeah – right.'

He laughed and I did the same. It felt like we'd known each other a long time.

'Why did you pick a fight like that?' I asked. 'I mean, it was so stupid. You could have got hurt bad. And me, too – which is even worse.'

'Sorry you got dragged into it. It sucked what they did to Victor. They might think twice if they know someone might get in their way next time. Anyhow, the fight was on my list. Had to do it one day.'

'What list? What are you talking about?'

'Aw doesn't matter. Forget it.'

'No, what do you mean?'

'I don't usually talk about it.'

'Suit yourself.' I shrugged. 'I don't care.'

But I did care and he knew it.

'Okay then,' he said. 'I'll tell you. Things to do before I cark it. That's what's on the list. When you know you're going to die, you have to be ready.'

Just something smart to say, I thought. Didn't mean anything.

'I don't tell that to everyone,' he said.

'Good idea. They'd lock you up.'

'Most people don't want to hear about dying.'

'I do. The more grisly the better. Go on.' Humour him, I thought. See where he's going with this.

'Okay.'

He paused, gathering himself like he was getting ready to jump from a high, high cliff.

'I've got a bad heart. My mum was sick when she had me and that's what started it. I was born with a hole in the heart. And the arteries were around the wrong way. There's a couple of other things. No need to go into details. Too boring. But that's all you need to know, really. I probably won't live very long. That's it.'

There were only three possibilities:

• He was the biggest liar who ever lived.

• He told the sickest jokes of anyone I knew.

• Or ... no chance.


'Bullshit,' I said.

'Well, I'm not gunna have a heart attack just to prove it to you.'

'But you can't have a bad heart. That's crap. You're the same age as me – sixteen, right?'

'Age doesn't make any difference if you were born with it. I've had three open-heart operations.'

'Three?'

'But it's still no good. I've got two lungs, same as you. but only one of mine works. Wanta see me scars?'

'Nooo.'

He lifted his shirt anyway.

Scars.

'But that's from something else – right? They're not scars from heart operations.'

'Yeah, I got bitten by a shark. You can believe whatever you want – but what I told you is true.'

He dropped his shirt back down, but in my mind the scars were still there. I knew I'd go on seeing them for a long time to come. I knew too, from his voice, from his eyes, that the story was true.

I smiled. I knew at the time that wasn't the right reaction, but I was thrown out of whack by the whole dying thing, so my reactions were all over the place. It was lucky I didn't giggle.

'All right.' I pushed the smile out of sight. 'I believe you.'

'It's no big deal.' He picked a leaf from his hair. 'You live with something for a long time, you get used to it.' A cloud had drifted over and now it hung above us with its friends, all of them bruised grey and menacing. 'Dying doesn't bother me any more. I'm over it.'

The tree we were sitting under must have been there for a hundred years ... and it had probably never heard any one say that before.

He shimmied closer. 'You really want to be friends with someone who's going to die?'

Friends? He'd found my weak spot. Okay, all my spots are weak, but this was the weakest of them all. The problem was that death was a weak spot too, only of a different kind. Two years ago my sister Jodie had wrapped herself around a tree. Her boyfriend Bruno was driving and their car didn't take a corner. Both of them dead. I always thought Jodie was a life sentence. You get like that with sisters, or at least I did. I couldn't wait for her to leave home. But then she got killed. I never got to say anything good to her, never got to take back the bad stuff. It made me angry for a long time, and scared at the way everything got turned around so quickly. Life had always been smooth and easy, like it should be. And then came the crash and the tree and me and Mum were upside down and bleeding. After Jodie, I just wanted death to be for other people, but now here it was, knocking on my door again.

'Well?'

Thorns was waiting for an answer.

'It doesn't bother me,' I said, as casually as I could.

'You sure?'

'I said so, didn't I? Anyway, you're not going to die any time soon, are you? I mean, you're talking twenty years or something. Right?'

'Twenty years? That's an awful long time.'

He smiled and shook his head and I was sorry I asked the question. I waited for him to go on, almost wishing he wouldn't.

'We moved down from Mudgee so I could be close to hospitals and doctors – heart specialists.' He pressed his finger against his lip and saw that the blood had dried. 'The move was Mum's idea. I only agreed to make her happy. But right now there's no problem. I just live every day full throttle. I plan to work on the list. Have the best time I can.'

The day had suddenly become cold and dark. I folded my arms but I still shivered. Now it was my turn to speak but I had no idea what to say.

'Lighten up. It's not contagious or anything, if that's what you're worried about. You can't catch a dud heart.'

'I'm not worried. Not a bit.'

He nodded. I shrugged.

'We'd better go inside,' he said. 'It's going to rain.'


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Daredevils by Bill Condon. Copyright © 2007 Bill Condon. Excerpted by permission of University of Queensland Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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