Chapter 1
Moving House:
Sunflowers, thermometers
and underpants

Sunflower. Can you believe that Mum wanted to call our new house Sunflower? I like sunflowers. I made a half-edible sunflower once, except it died. My other great scientific experiment didn’t die. Jack’s ponto — a half potato-onion. I was nearly famous. Mum cooked the ponto and it tasted delicious, except there was one problem. I didn’t write down exactly how I did it. So I’m now on a mission to work it out again. I’ve just grafted Ponto Number 24. It’s looking good. I check it every day. Ponto 24 is in a glass jar on the windowsill next to my bed. It has plenty of sunlight, air and water.

I record Jack’s Ponto Number 24 in my scientific record book. Saturday: One green shoot sprouting. Smells like onion. I draw a quick sketch.

Back to sunflowers. Calling our house Sunflower could have wrecked my life. For a start, everyone at school would destroy me — ‘Let’s go to Sunflower’s place.’ (I would be Sunflower.) ‘Jack is a stupid Sunflower. Oh no, I mean a budding idiot.’ (Bud — flower — get it?) ‘What are you doing, Blossom?’ (I would be Blossom.) See?

My mum, nanna and sister Samantha all love flowers, so they thought Sunflower was a ‘gorgeous’ name. That’s Mum’s dumb word. It’s horrible. The more I said Sunflower is a bad name, the more Mum and Samantha giggled and danced around the house doing star jumps and singing.

‘Sunflowers are lovely.

Sunflowers look nice.

Sunflowers will make our house

Like sugar and spice.’

Nanna didn’t sing because she’s half-deaf and thought everyone was having a great time. I wasn’t. Luckily my stepdad-to-be, Rob, interrupted them. ‘I’m planting sunflowers in the garden.’ Mum and Samantha stopped singing. They liked that idea. ‘That’ll be enough sunflowers around here. What’s another name for the house?’ Rob winked at me.

Mum thought about it for a while. ‘Jack, you really don’t like the name?’

‘No, Mum.’ I shook my head. Mum didn’t get it. I’d be the butt of every joke at school. It’s not like I mind a joke but it’s not funny.

Mum’s blonde fuzzy hair frizzed. ‘Jack, I want you to like our house name.’ So the house is now called ‘Sea Breeze’. Mum and Samantha painted blue ripples around the name. I painted a dolphin between the ripples. Samantha loves dolphins. It was amazing on our last holidays. These dolphins came out of nowhere and started surfing with me. Samantha was wearing the dolphin necklace Rob gave her. I copied the dolphin onto the wall. Mum and Samantha said that it looked terrific.

You can smell the salt in the air from our house. It’s only a ten-minute walk to the beach. We’re around the corner from Napolis’ Super Delicioso Fruitologist Market as well. Mr and Mrs Napoli and Anna Napoli live at the back of their fruitologist market. Anna is twelve like me and my nearly best friend. She’s really my equal best friend. Sometimes she’s my best best friend. I’d never tell her that.

I love our new house. Hector my white rat loves it too. It’s so much bigger than the unit we used to live in. Hector has heaps of room and lives on his own shelf. Sea Breeze has a backyard and a garage with a workshop. Rob and I set up our benches and I nailed a board to the wall to hang my hammers, chisels, pliers and screwdrivers.

Rob made a special bench for Leo, his other son. Rob spent ages putting it together. It’s even got a vice to hold wood when you need to cut a piece. I haven’t got a vice on my bench. Rob said I can use Leo’s. But this is my house, not Leo’s. Leo doesn’t even like working in the shed. I can’t say anything to Rob. Rob and Mum tell me all the time that I’m the same as Leo. But I’m not. Leo is his real son. Rob’s my stepdad-to-be. He says he’s already my stepdad. I can’t remember my real dad. I’m glad Leo lives with his mother up the coast, which is hours away. I stack my drill and parts on Leo’s bench.

Anyway, I don’t care about Leo and he can’t fix anything. I screwed three dream-catchers into the ceiling for Mum in the big front room. That’s Rob and Mum’s bedroom. The crystals catch the light through the window and make rainbows across the walls. When the feathers flutter Mum says they are catching hopes and dreams. Rob nudges me and we both try not to smile. Poor Mum is so emotional.

My bedroom is at the back, so I can get to the workshop quickly. It’s got an extra bed that I can pull out when a friend sleeps over. It’s really good. Samantha has the smallest room but she doesn’t mind. She knows I need space for my experiments and I’m not that neat. Samantha is neat. Floppy her stuffed flat dog sits neatly on her neat bed. I stick my head into her room. It’s dog-mania in there: puppy posters, Floppy, the A-plus dog project, her dog-eared (joke — ha, ha) Talking Dog books stacked in her bookshelf. Puss is curled on her bed. I tease her. ‘If we get a dog, Puss will love it. A dog will love Puss even more. As dog food.’

‘Jack, you’re mean. I want Mum and Rob to get me a puppy.’

I pretend to eat Puss’s tail. Samantha chases me out of her room. ‘You’re not funny, Jack.’

If Mum and Rob don’t get Samantha a puppy, I think she’ll need serious medical help. Puss will just have to get used to the competition.

‘Nanna,’ I call out. She lives with us since her bad fall last holidays. She has to get a bone density scan to make sure her bones don’t break so easily. Nanna says I can go with her when she gets her bone scan. Her room is the old verandah that’s been glassed in. She loves it because the sun streams through the windows and the warmth helps her arthritis. She can see the garden as well. I stomp into her room. She’s asleep in her armchair with her mouth open, flashing her set of teeth. There’s a snort and her teeth do a flip-flop in and out of her mouth. I try not to laugh, but dash to my room to grab my camera. Click — Nanna’s mouth is wide open. Click — Puss has jumped into her lap. Click — she’s chuckling in her sleep. This is hilarious.

Rob said that I’m the official photographer of the move into Sea Breeze. He bought me an excellent digital camera. I have an old-fashioned camera too, and a darkroom at the back of the shed. Still a digital is really easy to use and I’ve been working on editing photos on the computer. I’ve taken fantastic photos moving into Sea Breeze.

It was crazy when Nanna unpacked her bargain purple underpants. She got them for 50 per cent off the 50 per cent half-price sale. Wish she hadn’t got purple underpants for the rest of us but Nanna loves her sales. Nanna put the underpants on her head. ‘Everything is covered now,’ she chuckled. (I get my excellent joke-making talent from Nanna.) Of course, Mum stuck a pair on her head, then Samantha copied. Mum and Samantha chased Rob around the lounge room with a big pair of purple underpants until they landed on his head too. Poor Rob. Click, click. I was laughing so hard that the photographs are double exposed, with underpants everywhere.

Rob hung four thermometers in the house. We like thermometers. A house isn’t a home unless you know the temperature in every room, according to Rob. It’s true. ‘The weather is just right,’ he said after checking. ‘Not too hot and not too cold.’ Click. Photo. Rob’s prickly head is nodding at the thermometer. Samantha made me take five photographs of her stuffed dog — Floppy on her bed, Floppy on her desk, Floppy on her carpet, Floppy and Puss in Nanna’s lap. Just Floppy — a portrait photo. Samantha has to get a dog soon.

It has been hard work moving into Sea Breeze. I had to fix leaking washers and shaky drawers. Grandad was a plumber. I have a whole bookshelf of plumbing and fix-it books. Rob bought me a spanner kit and showed me how to fix our leaking toilet. Mum says I’m her plumber. Rob goes around the house banging pipes with his hammer. He thinks he is Mum’s plumber. But I am.

Luckily I have Grandad’s tool box. Except for Rob, no one else is allowed to touch it. Every tool is in its right place. Every nut and bolt has a home. I’m checking out my tool box when I discover something missing. The Phillips-head screwdriver. I feel my face going red. I bet it is Samantha. I grit my teeth.

Rob scratches his prickly head. Mum twirls her fuzzy blonde hair. Nanna says she’ll buy me another screwdriver. But it was Grandad’s. He wanted me to have it. I charge into Samantha’s room. She’s sitting next to Floppy plaiting her hair as if nothing has happened. ‘Where’s my screwdriver?’ I shout.

No answer, but Samantha looks guilty. I am just about to squash Floppy when Mum star jumps into the room with the screwdriver in her hand. ‘Sorry, Jack. My fault. I used it for an emergency.’ Mum squeezes Samantha’s arm. I can just hear her whisper, ‘Our secret.’ They both stare at the dream-catcher screwed on Samantha’s bedpost. It’s obvious that Samantha took the screwdriver. Mum is covering for her. I flick Samantha’s dream-catcher as I stomp out. ‘Next time, ask.’

Mum usually works Saturday at the library, but she has today off. Sometimes she gets afternoons off and she collects us from school. I like that. She’s a library assistant as well as studying part-time to get a library diploma. We’re really proud of her. I’m glad she’s home today. She knows I’m a great dishwasher, ever since Rob let me join his Batman team. We’re the washing-up-dishes super duo, like Batman and Robin. Fast and fantastic. Rob makes the plates sparkle so much that I need sunglasses. Ha, ha.

My speciality is Saturday morning scrambled eggs. Rob isn’t a great cook, although his orange juice is excellent. He squeezes the best oranges. But his eggs are a problem. They are either too sloppy or hard like chicken poo. Mum and Samantha are the best chefs, but not for breakfast. I hand Mum a plate with fluffy yellow scrambled eggs, two crispy bacon rashers, sliced tomato on the side and buttered brown toast.

‘You’re so clever, Jack.’ Mum smiles. Nanna nods with yellow bits sticking out of her teeth. Rob sneaks me a quick grin.

‘This is good, Jack.’ Samantha gives Puss a bit of her bacon.

‘Hi,’ echoes through the kitchen. It’s Anna. She climbs up the back steps carrying a dripping brown bag. ‘Over-ripe bananas.’ They’re from Napolis’ Super Delicioso Fruitologist Market. Anna’s chocolate-brown eyes twinkle. My face flushes.

Anna gives Nanna a hug. Nanna loves that. Then she gives Mum the bananas. There’s going to be some serious banana-cake baking this morning. Rob’s stacked the plates already. Boiling hot water, forks and knives in line, plates piled, ready for the washing-up operation. Dishes are washed and wiped and stacked and stored. I help him. Rob stands back to check his work. ‘Good job,’ he says to himself. Rob is funny.

Rob waves toward the garden: we’re planting the sunflowers. ‘Coming, Jack?’

‘In a minute.’ I need to check out the big banana bake-off first.

‘You can go, Jack.’ Samantha has her head in the fridge. ‘This is for the girls.’ I ignore her. I love banana cake. Nanna sits in her favourite armchair eating a banana. She drips some of the soft yellow bits onto her clean shirt. I can’t watch but Mum wipes it off. Samantha produces the secret ingredient from the fridge. Mango yoghurt. I grab a spoon. ‘Don’t eat the yoghurt.’ Samantha shoots me a serious look. I laugh, stick my spoon quickly into the tub and gulp down a big mouthful.

Samantha grabs the tub away from me, then gives me an evil look. A flick of yoghurt hurls across from her mixing spoon and hits my hand. Mum doesn’t even see it. Nanna’s concentrating on her banana. That’s it. I pull Samantha’s plait. She squeals, ‘Don’t, Jack, don’t.’ Anna shakes her head, making her licorice curls bounce.

Mum sings out, ‘Go away now, Jack.’ The girls, including Nanna, put their hands on their hips and stare at me.

It’s so unfair, but hey. I don’t want to make the banana cake; I want to eat it. I head for the backyard. Rob’s in the garden. He leans on his shovel, then rubs his head. ‘Getting the soil ready. For the sunflowers.’

‘Good one.’ I grab the other shovel.