IN THE BIG HOUSE

The moment we arrived, the hail suddenly stopped. It was like someone had thrown a switch, and the clouds were split open by a beam of sunlight that lit up the place like a stage spotlight. I half expected a choir of angels to start singing. But we were in for an even bigger shock: the Coogans’ “shack” sprawled across a huge chunk of land that wrapped around half of Shark’s Bay. Being a mayor must pay pretty well, because I’d seen airports that were smaller than Biff Coogan’s beach shack.

In the driveway, a tall blond kid about my age stopped doing ollies on his skateboard and stared at me.

It wasn’t a friendly look. His eyes reminded me of the drop bear’s.

“Bradley, this is Ralph Katchadoorhandle,” Biff said as he stepped out of the car. “Ralph, this is my son, Bradley. He’s on school break right now.”

“Eww!” Bradley said, pointing at his dad’s puke-encrusted neck. “What in the name of Hugh Jackman’s sideburns is that gunk?”

Biff shook his head and stomped toward the house.

“That’s, uh, puke,” I said.

“You puked on Dad? Why?”

“No! My mom puked on your dad,” I said, like that made it okay.

Bradley looked at me and then at Mom in the car. “But she’s asleep.”

“No,” I said. “Well, yes, she is now. But she wasn’t then, so she could have. And did. Puke, I mean.”

To be honest, it wasn’t the clearest answer I’d ever given. Even I could hardly understand it. But I was way too tired and hungry and smelly to think even a little bit clearly.

Bradley opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. You could almost see his brain trying to work out the sequence of events.

“Okay,” he managed in the end. A blond girl who looked a lot like Bradley appeared next to him.

“What’s that?” she said, pointing at me like I was some sort of exotic slug.

Bradley shrugged. “Some American dude,” he said. “Puked all over the old bloke. Fair dinkum.”

“Ew, gross!”

“I didn’t!” I protested.

“This is my twin sister, Belinda,” Bradley said.

Belinda looked at me briefly again and shook her head.

I wanted to tell her how tired we were and that it wasn’t me who had puked on her dad, but I didn’t have the energy. Instead, I opened my mouth and, without warning, puked all over Belinda.