Laugh Your Head Off Page 3

  ‘What?’ said Amelia.

  ‘You were swaying around with your eyes closed and squawking about stinky fish. You weren’t dreaming of being a rock star, were you?’ He laughed. ‘Because that would be stupid, Bucket. The Green Twisties don’t want a dork like you. The only rock star around here is me.’ And he ripped the poster from the noticeboard. ‘No one else need apply.’

  Amelia spent the rest of the day fuming, though she wasn’t sure who she was more mad at: Jason Kastell for thinking she was too dorky to be a star, or herself for being too chicken to audition for the Green Twisties. What Kayla had said was true; Amelia did have a great voice. And she did want to be a rock star. But singing in front of the whole assembly? She got embarrassed just saying ‘Here’ when Ms Feather called the roll.

  Maybe Jason was right: she was stupid even to dream of being a star.

  • • •

  ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ Amelia was still grumbling to herself as she walked home from school that afternoon.

  ‘Stupid, stupid—ow!’ she said as she stubbed her toe on a rock. ‘Make that clumsy as well as stupid.’ She glared at the rock then gave it a kick. ‘And you’re stupid too, stupid rock.’

  ‘Hey!’ said the rock.

  Amelia stared at it in surprise. Had the rock just talked?

  She looked at the rock more closely. It seemed pretty ordinary. It was a brownish colour, with a curved top, and was about the size of a football.

  ‘Did you say something?’ Amelia asked it.

  ‘Yes,’ said the rock. ‘I said: WHY DON’T YOU WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING?’

  ‘There’s no need to shout,’ said Amelia.

  ‘You called me stupid,’ said the rock.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Amelia. ‘I was taking out my bad mood on you.’

  ‘Tough day?’ said the rock.

  Amelia rolled her eyes. ‘The worst.’

  ‘Are you feeling stressed?’ the rock asked sympathetically.

  ‘Yes I am,’ said Amelia.

  ‘I’ll tell you what’s good for beating stress,’ said the rock. ‘A pet. Would you like one?’

  ‘Do you mean you?’ said Amelia.

  ‘Yes,’ said the rock. ‘I could do with a change of scene, a bit of excitement in my life. Things are too quiet around here. Take me home with you.’

  ‘No,’ said Amelia. ‘I don’t want a pet rock.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said the rock. ‘Now you’ve hurt my feelings.’

  ‘I didn’t know rocks had feelings.’ Amelia sighed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. It’s just that—’

  ‘I know,’ said the rock. ‘You’ve had a bad day. Why don’t you tell me all about it?’

  So Amelia sat down beside the rock and told it about the Green Twisties audition and Jason Kastell, and then, at the rock’s urging, she sang ‘Pilchards in the Sun’ all the way through.

  When she was done, the rock said, ‘What an amazing coincidence—you want to be a rock star, and I am a rock! And it just so happens that I’m also a singing coach. I know exactly what your problem is, Amelia Bucket: you have stage fright. But if I was your coach I could help you to conquer your nerves, win that audition and become a star!’

  Amelia clapped her hands together. ‘Do you mean it?’ she said. ‘Can you really help me become a rock star?’

  The rock didn’t hesitate. ‘I can,’ it said.

  ‘All right then. I’ll take you home with me.’ Amelia rose and picked up her schoolbag. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Ahem,’ said the rock.

  ‘What?’ said Amelia.

  ‘I have no legs,’ said the rock. ‘You’ll have to carry me.’

  • • •

  The rock turned out to be quite heavy, and Amelia was puffing by the time she got home.

  ‘Are you all right, dear?’ her mother asked as she entered the house. ‘You’re a little late.’

  ‘And you’re panting,’ said her dad.

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Amelia. ‘I just stopped to talk to . . . ’ She paused. She could hardly tell them she’d been talking to a rock. ‘I was talking to a new friend. And I was panting because, um . . . ’

  ‘Amelia, why are you carrying that rock?’ her mother asked.

  ‘I, uh . . . ’

  ‘Is the rock your new friend?’ asked her dad. He was speaking very slowly and kindly, as if Amelia might be ill.

  ‘No!’ said Amelia. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course the rock isn’t my friend. It’s . . . it’s a pet.’

  As she carried the rock down the hall to her room, she heard her mother say, ‘I do worry about Amelia sometimes. She can be very odd.’

  Amelia shut the door to her bedroom and put the rock on her desk.

  ‘Your parents seem nice,’ said the rock.

  ‘They are nice,’ said Amelia. ‘But now they think I’m crazy because I’ve got a pet rock.’

  ‘Perhaps I should explain that I’m your singing coach?’ the rock suggested.

  ‘No,’ said Amelia. ‘They’re worried enough about me having a pet rock. If they knew I had a talking rock as a singing coach, they’d really freak out.’

  ‘Speaking of singing,’ said the rock, ‘we’ve got work to do. Let’s start preparing for that audition.’

  The rock asked Amelia to sing a couple of her songs and then it gave her some great advice about how to calm her nerves for the audition. She was practising deep breathing for relaxation when her father called, ‘Amelia—dinner!’

  ‘I’d better go,’ said Amelia, heading for the door.

  ‘Wait!’ called the rock. ‘Don’t leave me here by myself. I’ll get lonely.’

  So Amelia carried the rock to the dinner table and set it beside her plate.

  ‘I see you’ve decided to bring your friend—I mean your pet—to dinner,’ her father observed.

  ‘It gets lonely,’ Amelia explained.

  Dinner was quieter than usual, as Amelia’s parents seemed more interested in watching her with concerned looks than talking to her.

  Her mother had just broken a long silence to ask how Amelia knew the rock was lonely when her father interrupted to say, ‘Amelia, I think your pet rock just ate a lettuce leaf from my plate.’

  ‘Uh, I don’t think that’s actually possible, Dad.’

  ‘No, Wilfred, I don’t think that is possible,’ Amelia’s mother said, giving him a look.

  ‘I’m not making it up,’ he protested.

  Amelia looked at the rock. For a moment she thought she saw a tiny piece of lettuce on its side, but then it was gone.

  ‘May we be excused?’ said Amelia. ‘I’ve got homework.’

  Amelia took the rock back to her room.

  ‘All right, tell me the truth: did you eat Dad’s lettuce leaf?’

  ‘Now,’ said the rock, ‘another way of dealing with nerves is to—’

  ‘Don’t change the subject,’ said Amelia. ‘The lettuce leaf—did you or did you not eat it?’

  ‘Okay, okay, I confess—it was me!’ wailed the rock.

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I was hungry.’

  ‘You’re a rock. Rocks don’t get hungry.’

  ‘I can see you’ve guessed my secret,’ said the rock.

  ‘What secret?’ said Amelia.

  ‘You’ve found me out,’ said the rock.

  ‘No I haven’t,’ said Amelia.

  ‘I’m not really a rock at all,’ said the rock.

  ‘You’re not?! Then what are you?’

  ‘Well,’ said the rock, ‘it’s a long story.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Amelia. ‘I can see where this is going. You’re a handsome prince and you want me to kiss you, right?’

  ‘Yuck! No!’ said the rock. ‘No kissing.’

  ‘I was only trying to help,’ said Amelia, rather offended by the rock’s reaction. ‘It’s not like I wanted to kiss you. I should have guessed you weren’t a handsome prince, anyway. You’re not even a handsome rock.’

  ‘
That’s because I’m not a rock,’ the not-rock reminded her.

  ‘So what are you?’

  The not-rock didn’t reply. Instead, as Amelia watched, it sprouted a leg. Then another. Then a third leg and a fourth. Finally, a head popped out.

  ‘You’re a turtle!’ Amelia cried.

  ‘I’m not a turtle,’ said the not-rock indignantly. ‘I’m a tortoise. Turtles are swimmers; they have webbed feet. Do I have webbed feet? No! I’ve got proper feet for walking.’

  ‘If you’ve got feet for walking, why have I been carrying you around all this time?’ Amelia demanded.

  ‘It’s quicker. Plus, I’m lazy.’

  ‘But why did you tell me you were a rock?’

  ‘It’s against the law for a tortoise to be a pet. I didn’t want to get in trouble.’

  ‘So you’re not a rock,’ said Amelia. ‘Does that mean you’re not really a singing coach either?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ said the tortoise. ‘I’m very musical. Have you heard of a rock lobster?’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Well, I’m a rock tortoise.’

  ‘Pretending to be a rock rock,’ said Amelia.

  ‘Rock tortoise, rock rock . . . what does it matter?’ said the tortoise. ‘Let’s rock on!’

  ‘Er . . . sure,’ said Amelia.

  ‘Why don’t we sing something together? How about “I Am Tortoise”?’

  ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘It’s a song about tortoise rights. I am tortoise, hear me roar . . . Are you sure you don’t know it? It was very popular in the 1970s.’

  ‘Maybe my grandma knows it. How old are you? You’re not like a hundred or something, are you?’

  ‘I’ll have you know I’m very young for a tortoise. I’m virtually a teenager.’

  ‘Like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?’

  ‘Like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Tortoise,’ the tortoise corrected. ‘And watch who you’re calling a mutant.’

  ‘Well, how about a song that’s a bit more recent? Do you know any?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ The tortoise started humming.

  ‘Is that the song from Frozen?’ Amelia said.

  The tortoise began to sing in a high falsetto voice.

  ‘Stop!’ begged Amelia.

  ‘What, you don’t like my singing?’ asked the tortoise.

  Amelia didn’t want to hurt the tortoise’s feelings (again), so she just said, ‘Let’s get back to preparing for the audition.’

  For the rest of the evening, Amelia and the tortoise practised singing and smiling and breathing. By bedtime, Amelia was feeling so confident she was almost looking forward to the audition!

  • • •

  That changed the next morning when she looked in her wardrobe for something to wear. She didn’t exactly have any rock star clothes.

  ‘I guess I’ll just have to wear jeans and a T-shirt,’ she said.

  But as she was leaving the house with the tortoise under her arm, her mother said, ‘There’s a bit of a breeze up today. Why don’t you put on the jumper your dad made you?’

  ‘I can’t!’ said Amelia. ‘I’m auditioning to be lead singer of the school rock band.’

  ‘That’s lovely, dear. But you know how important it is to encourage your father’s new hobby. You haven’t forgotten his last one, have you?’

  Amelia shuddered. ‘Breeding slugs.’

  ‘We don’t want him to take up that again,’ said Mum.

  ‘No,’ Amelia agreed.

  ‘So be a good girl and wear the jumper.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘Remember when you found a slug in your cereal?’ said Mum.

  Amelia trudged back to her room and put on the jumper.

  ‘I don’t see what’s wrong with breeding slugs,’ said the tortoise.

  ‘Slugs are disgusting,’ said Amelia. ‘Especially in cereal.’

  ‘Slugs are tasty,’ said the tortoise. ‘Unlike that jumper. What’s that on the front?’

  Amelia sighed. ‘It’s meant to be the Easter Bunny,’ she said. ‘But it came out a bit wonky.’

  ‘It’s like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Easter Bunny,’ said the tortoise. ‘But without the teenage and ninja bits.’

  • • •

  When they got to the assembly hall, the tortoise said, ‘Okay, you can put me down on a patch of grass out here to wait for you. Remember what I said about breathing, and don’t forget to smile.’

  But suddenly Amelia didn’t want to put the tortoise down.

  ‘How do I breathe again?’ she said. ‘And I’ve forgotten how to smile!’

  ‘It’s important not to panic,’ said the tortoise.

  ‘It’s too late!’ said Amelia. ‘I’m panicking! I think I’ll just go home.’

  ‘No, no, no,’ said the tortoise. ‘We’re here now. You have to go through with it.’

  ‘Come with me,’ Amelia begged. ‘You can whisper instructions to me when I forget what to do.’

  The tortoise said, ‘But you can’t do an audition holding a tortoise—and if you’re not holding me you won’t be able to hear me whisper.’

  ‘True,’ said Amelia. She thought for a moment. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ she said.

  A few minutes later, she was standing on stage staring down at the Green Twisties band members, who were sitting in the front row. Next to her was the only other person who had turned up to audition.

  Jason Kastell was wearing ripped jeans, a black T-shirt and temporary tatts. He looked exactly how a rock star should look.

  Amelia was wearing unripped jeans, a mutant Easter Bunny jumper and a tortoise on her head.

  ‘I might as well go first,’ Jason said. ‘Once you’ve seen me in action you won’t need to bother with Boring Bucket.’

  Leaping forward, he snarled into the microphone. Then he took the mic from its stand and swung it around and around. After that he pranced up and down, tossing his head back and forth, before skidding along the stage on his knees.

  Finally, he bowed.

  There was silence from the Green Twisties in the front row.

  At last Tai, the bass player, said, ‘Ah, right. Do you have a song you’d like to sing?’

  Jason shook his head. ‘Nah, I thought I’d cover the basics of being a rock star first, and we can get to the singing stuff later.’

  ‘I see,’ said Matilda, the drummer. ‘Well, thanks for coming. That was a very . . . interesting . . . audition.’

  Jason strutted off the stage, smirking. ‘Beat that, Bucket,’ he said as he passed Amelia.

  ‘I don’t think I can,’ Amelia said to the tortoise shakily. ‘I’ll never be able to perform like Jason did.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ the tortoise whispered. ‘Just let them hear you sing. Take a deep breath.’

  Amelia did as she was told.

  ‘Now step forward, smile and say your name, and the name of the song you’re going to sing,’ the tortoise instructed.

  Amelia moved forward and said, ‘My name is Amelia Bucket and I’m going to sing a song I wrote myself. It’s called “Red Icy Pole Blues”.’

  ‘Well done,’ whispered the tortoise.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Amelia,’ said Adam, the lead guitarist. ‘Um, is that a tortoise on your head?’

  ‘It’s my singing coach,’ Amelia explained.

  ‘Weird,’ said Tai.

  ‘I think it’s cool,’ said Matilda. ‘Okay, whenever you’re ready, Amelia.’

  ‘Deep breath,’ whispered the tortoise. ‘Now, sing!’

  ‘Red Icy Pole Blues’ was a moving song about the despair and loneliness caused by a dropped icy pole, and Amelia sang it loudly and with feeling.

  ‘That was awesome,’ said Matilda when she was done.

  ‘Your voice is amazing,’ Tai agreed.

  ‘And I love that you’re writing your own material,’ Adam added. ‘We want to be more than a covers band.’

  ‘Then we’re agreed,’ said Matilda. ‘Well done, Ameli
a—you’re the Green Twisties’ new lead singer!’

  • • •

  The next few days passed in a blur. The Green Twisties were planning to make their debut at Friday’s school assembly.

  They practised every day after school, and with the tortoise sitting on her head to reassure her and give her instructions, Amelia grew more and more confident. In fact, she was enjoying herself so much she no longer felt at all nervous about singing in front of the whole school—until suddenly it was Friday, and the Green Twisties were waiting backstage for the principal to introduce them.

  ‘Where’s my tortoise?’ said Amelia, looking around anxiously.

  Matilda shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen it.’

  ‘But I can’t sing unless I have my tortoise on my head!’ Amelia said. She was starting to feel a bit jittery.

  ‘When did you last see it?’ Tai asked.

  ‘Only a few minutes ago,’ Amelia replied. ‘I put it down right here!’

  ‘Well it can’t have got very far,’ said Adam. ‘Being a tortoise and all.’

  ‘I have to find it!’ said Amelia.

  ‘There’s no time,’ said Tai. ‘We’re on!’

  Her legs shaking, Amelia ran onto the stage with the others. As soon as she saw the sea of faces looking up at her, she froze. She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t go on!

  But then she remembered what the tortoise would have advised. She took a deep breath, smiled and stepped forward.

  ‘We’re the Green Twisties,’ she said, ‘and this is a song called “Rusty Eggs and Bacon”.’

  Adam strummed the intro and Amelia began to sing. She forgot all about the tortoise, and how nervous she was; she forgot about everything except the music and the song.

  When Matilda banged the drums three times to mark the end of the number, every student in the hall began to cheer. Some were even whistling and stamping their feet.

  ‘We’re a hit!’ said Adam. ‘Way to go, Amelia!’

  ‘Yeah, way to go,’ Tai echoed, as Matilda slung an arm around Amelia’s shoulders and the four of them took a bow.

  ‘I feel fantastic!’ said Amelia as they ran off the stage, the cheers still echoing around the hall. ‘So this is what it’s like to be a star!’

  They ran through the backstage area pumping their fists, and were about to run out the door when Tai said, ‘Isn’t that your school jumper, Amelia?’ He was pointing to a dusty corner backstage.