Carl Hiaasen - Flush

Even though Dad didn't like dealing with googans, he was ten times happier on the water than he was driving a taxi. That meant Mom was in a better mood, too, laughing and kidding around the way she used to do.

The two of them were getting along so well that Abbey and I were extra careful not to mention the sticky subject of Dusty Muleman's casino boat. We discussed our new plan of attack only when we were alone and away from the house, where our parents couldn't hear us.

A couple of days after my father got out of jail, the Parks Department took down the pollution warnings at Thunder Beach. The next morning, Abbey and I put on our bathing suits and grabbed a couple of towels and dashed outside. Mom and Dad figured we were heading for the park, which is exactly what we wanted them to think.

Because we were really going to Shelly's trailer.

I had to knock a half dozen times. When she finally came to the door, she didn't seem especially delighted to see us. Her eyes were puffy and half closed, and it looked like somebody had set off a firecracker in her hair.

“Time izzit?” she asked hoarsely.

“Seven-thirty,” I said.

She winced. “A.M.? You gotta be kiddin' me.”

Abbey said, “It's important. Please?”

We followed Shelly inside. She sagged onto the sofa and tucked her legs up under her tatty pink bathrobe.

“Killer headache,” she explained, running her tongue across her front teeth. “Large party last night.”

She was clearly in pain, so we got straight to the point. “We need your help,” I said, “now.”

“To do what?”

“To stop Dusty Muleman. You promised, remember?”

She laughed-one of those tired, what-was-I-thinking laughs. She looked across at Abbey. “And you promised to keep your big brother outta trouble.”

“We won't get in any trouble,” Abbey said evenly, “if you help us.”

It sounded like Shelly was having second thoughts. I wondered if she really was afraid of Dusty Muleman after all.

In a discouraged voice she said, “I don't know what we can do to stop him. He's tight with all the big shots in town.”

“But he's poisoning Thunder Beach,” I said. “You know how sick a kid could get from swimming in that bad water? Same goes for the fish and the dolphins and the baby turtles. It sucks, what Dusty is doing. It's awful.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And don't forget what happened to Lice,” I added. “Remember how you told me you had a dog in this fight? Remember-”

“Lice is exactly what I been thinkin' about,” Shelly cut in. “Say they really killed him, okay? You s'pose they'd hesitate to do the same to me or you, if somethin' goes wrong?”

It was about time she got worried, and who could blame her? If she was right about Lice being dead, then Dusty and Luno were cold-blooded murderers.

But one glance and I knew Abbey wouldn't back off, no matter what the risks. Neither could I.

“Shelly, I know it's dangerous-”

“Not to mention crazy,” she said.

“Yeah, and probably crazy,” I agreed. “Look, if you don't want to be a part of this, it's okay. I understand.”

She shut her eyes and rolled back her head. “Uh-oh, here comes the guilt.” She pressed her knuckles to her ears. “Enough already, Noah. This poor blond head's about to explode.”

Shelly stretched out on the sofa. Abbey got some ice cubes from the refrigerator and wrapped them in a dish towel, which Shelly gingerly positioned across her brow.

After a minute or two of muffled moaning she said, “Guess I wasn't feelin' so brave when I got up this mornin', but hey, a promise is a promise. Count me in.”

Abbey and I looked at each other with happy relief.

“So what's the big plan?” Shelly asked. “And how does your daddy fit in?”

“He doesn't fit in. We're not telling him about it,” Abbey replied.

Shelly opened one bloodshot eye and studied us. “That's probably a darn good idea,” she said.

“But he'll still get blamed for everything-if we get caught,” I pointed out. “That's why we need you.”

Shelly sighed. “So let's hear it.”

When we told her our plan, she didn't laugh or make fun. She just lay there, thinking.

“Well?” Abbey said impatiently.

Shelly levered herself upright, balancing the ice pack on her forehead. “This idea of yours is so whacked,” she said, “it just might work.”

“Does that mean you'll help us?”

“And all I gotta do is flush?” she asked. “That's it?”

“That's all you've got to do,” I said. “Flush, and flush often.”

The next thing that happened was all my fault. I wasn't paying attention.

Abbey and I were riding home slowly along the Old Highway, talking about the Coral Queen, when somebody rushed up on us from behind. Before I could wheel around, Jasper Muleman Jr. grabbed my bike and Bull grabbed Abbey's, and together they dragged us backward into a stand of Australian pines.

Not again, I thought in a panic. It wasn't me I was frightened for-it was my sister.

No sooner had Jasper Jr. knocked me to the ground than I heard Bull cut loose with a spine-chilling wail. Instantly I knew what had happened: He'd been too careless with Abbey.

“Make her let go!” Jasper Jr. hollered at me.

“I can't.”

Jasper Jr. jerked me to my feet. “Underwood, you don't make her let go of Bull, I'll snap you like a twig.”

Bull kept on wailing. Abbey had sunk her teeth into his left earlobe and was hanging on like a starved alligator. Bull was at least a foot taller than her, so he had to be careful not to pull away or else he might lose the entire ear. Whenever he moved even a little bit, his wailing got louder. The boy was in serious pain.

“Make her stop!” Jasper Jr. demanded. “He's bleeding, man, can't you see?”

“Abbey, is Bull really bleeding?” I asked.

She nodded, causing Bull to crank up the volume. It was pitiful to hear.

Jasper Jr. started throttling me by the shoulders. “Make her quit, Underwood, make her stop!”

“One condition,” I said. “You guys let her go free.”

Jasper Jr. sneered his famous sneer. “How 'bout this for a condition, dorkbrain? Your sister quits chewin' on Bull, else I start poundin' your head with a ripe coconut.”

Bull managed to calm himself long enough to offer his own opinion. “The girl takes her teeth outta my ear, she walks. You got my promise, Underwood.”

“Hey, no way-” Jasper Jr. began to protest.

“You shut up,” Bull snapped. He was looking at us with his thick neck bent toward the ground and his head positioned sideways, to give Abbey as much slack as possible. Considering the delicate situation, she seemed incredibly calm.

I didn't see a single drop of blood, but there was no reason to inform Bull that he wasn't really bleeding to death. “So, guys, do we have a deal or not?” I asked.

“Deal,” Bull grunted.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Jasper Jr., spearing me with a bony elbow.

“All right then,” I said. “Abbey, you can let go now.”

“Nhh-ugh,” she said through a mouthful of crinkled ear.

“Come on. Let go of Bull.”

“Nhh-ugh.”

“You want to catch some gross disease? He probably hasn't had a bath since Christmas,” I said.

Even that didn't make her quit. I knew why, too. She didn't want to leave me out there alone with the two of them.

“Honest, I'll be okay,” I said, which must have sounded incredibly lame. She knew I wasn't going to be okay. She knew they were going to stomp me into hamburger meat.

“Nhh-ugh,” my sister said emphatically.

“Abbey, come on!”

There was no way I could let her stay there in the woods. Jasper Jr. was a vicious punk who wouldn't think twice about beating up a girl half his size.