CHAPTER 33

It’s Thursday, and Mrs Gribble has called a special assembly.

But that’s okay. Today I’m looking forward to it. Because today’s the day I finally get my Money Bags cheque. All three thousand five hundred dollars of it!

As usual, Ted is standing beside me, with Harriet on his other side. By the looks of it, everything is rosy again. They are chatting happily, like two excited little kids who have just discovered bugs in the garden.

Crofty sidles up to me and joins our cosy little group. He gives me a dig with his elbow and gestures over to the happy couple.

‘Get a load of the lovebirds, would you,’ he whispers.

‘Yeah, well, I guess there’s no accounting for taste,’ I whisper back.

Mrs Gribble suddenly interrupts the buzzing throng of students and grabs the microphone.

‘In case you’re not aware, we’ve had more quiz show success, this time with Money Bags,’ she says proudly. And suddenly there is an eruption of clapping and Mrs Gribble is drowned out.

When the clapping subsides sufficiently, she continues. ‘Due to one of our talented students, our school is now eighty-one thousand dollars better off, which will come in very handy indeed. And I’m sure the fundraising committee will be extremely appreciative, too, and join me in expressing our sincere thanks to Brain Davis!’

Mrs Gribble smiles in my direction.

‘Even if it was won in unusual circumstances,’ she adds. ‘But the rules have been checked, and everything is in order. As long as the prize-winner is the person whose name was registered, then anything else is irrelevant. I’d just like to make that clear.’

I blush, and smile sheepishly. I’m not really listening. I keep thinking about the money.

Ted nudges me and gives me a wink, and Crofty does another one of those elbow digs he’s so fond of.

It is then I notice the cheque in Mrs Gribble’s hand. I can’t take my eyes off it. It is like an eye magnet. My heart begins to race; I am so excited. Three thousand five hundred dollars. And every cent of it is mine!

I think of all the things I can do with it: buy some new computer games, stock up on the latest books, take Mischief for a visit to Pets ‘R’ Us … the possibilities are endless.

‘Now to the important bit – handing over the cheque.’ Mrs Gribble smiles and holds it up for everyone to see.

I want to jump up and snatch it right out of her hand. But I don’t. I try to be patient.

I wait for Mrs Gribble to call my name.

But she doesn’t.

Instead she says: ‘Congratulations, Ted Dimple. Your name was registered as the contestant. And it’s your name on the cheque.’

What? She’s got to be kidding! Ted’s name is on the cheque? What about mine?

Ted is in shock. He can’t believe it. And me? I am in more shock than Ted. Déjà vu washes over me in a great wave. You could knock me over with a breath this time. You wouldn’t even need a feather.

There must be some mistake. Ted Dimple? Mrs Gribble can’t be serious. I’m the one who was up on stage, under all that pressure. I’m the one who put up with the cameras in my face, and faced potential hearing loss from the noisy audience, not to mention the endless barrage of questions from Ken Cooper. And I was the person who won the eighty-one thousand dollars!

I am close to tears. They sting my eyes, but I force them away. I’m embarrassed enough. I don’t need tears to add to it.

Meanwhile, everyone mills around Ted, and there are cheers when Mrs Gribble announces she is scheduling a curriculum day next week as a reward for Ted’s efforts. Can you believe that? Ted’s efforts! There are numerous high-fives and slaps on the back. I’ve seen this all before. I can’t even look.

So I make my way over to a quiet spot to gather my thoughts.

‘Hey Brain,’ calls Ted suddenly, as he frees himself from the crowd of fans gathered around him and makes his way over.

‘I don’t deserve this cheque,’ he says. ‘It’s only because my name was down as the contestant that I got it at all. It should be your name on it. You’re the one who did all the hard work. So, here, the money is yours.’

I am momentarily lost for words. Is Ted for real?

‘You’re joking, right Ted?’

‘No Brain, this is no joke. I want you to have the cheque. It’s yours to do whatever you like with.’

Suddenly I am racked with guilt. I can’t do it. I just can’t.

‘No, Ted. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t take it. People would think I coerced you into giving it to me because of sour grapes or something.’

‘Don’t worry, Brain. I’ll set them straight.’

I am torn. I want that cheque so badly I could burst. But Ted’s generosity has humbled me. I can’t believe someone could be so unselfish.

‘Are you sure, Brain? I can’t sway you?’

‘I’m sure. That money is yours, Ted. So what are you doing standing around talking to me? Hurry up and spend it!’

‘Okay then, I will,’ says Ted, grinning.

I watch him race off, as happy as a pig in mud. Then the realisation sets in.

I have just said goodbye to the biggest amount of money I am ever likely to get my hands on again.

Suddenly thoughts of brand-new computer games and the latest books come racing back. And I realise my mistake.

‘Hey, Ted, wait!’ I call. ‘I’ve had a change of heart. I …’ But it’s no use. Ted is just a speck in the distance. Then he is gone.

And so is my three thousand five hundred dollars.

I shake my head in disbelief.

Oh, what have I done?