Gruntz: Finding zO

By Trish Teske

Ten-year-old Flynn still has trouble coming to terms with the bushfire that killed his parents five years ago. His older sister, Alex, and brother, Hood, care for him, but he constantly finds himself in detention at his new school in zO.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookTrail Publishing
• Release date: Jun 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637672921

Trish Teske

Ten-year-old Flynn still has trouble coming to terms with the bushfire that killed his parents five years ago. His older sister, Alex, and brother, Hood, care for him, but he constantly finds himself in detention at his new school in zO. Flynn already has a reputation as a kid with a half-decent temper. Everyone at school knows he's the new kid who kicks rubbish bin lids farther than anyone else. But he's no match for the group of bullies, led by Spike, who threaten to damage his sister's shop if he doesn't follow their demands. When their dare costs Flynn his coveted spot on the Dragons football team, little does he know the dangerous chain of events it will set off and how his bravery leads him to the best friend he'd never imagined. Set in the fantasy world of human-like koala creatures called Gruntz, this book for middle readers follows Flynn's journey in search of home.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 Trish Teske

Paperback: 978-1-63767-291-4

eBook: 978-1-63767-292-1

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021911352

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction.

Ordering Information:

BookTrail Agency

8838 Sleepy Hollow Rd.

Kansas City, MO 64114

For sons and daughters

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1   The Dare

Chapter 2   Brothers Home Alone

Chapter 3   Stormy Night

Chapter 4   Their Secret

Chapter 5   At Home Together

Chapter 6   Firewall Lodgement

Chapter 7   No Footy against the Demons

Chapter 8   Memories from Another Time

Chapter 9   Sunday to Get Through

Chapter 10   Monday Classes

Chapter 11   Striking a Bargain

Chapter 12   Mates and War

Chapter 13   Scare at the Puppy Shelter

Chapter 14   Suspicion and the Game against the Gators

Chapter 15   Dark Canyon and Too Sick for Words

Chapter 16   Tilly’'s Plan

Chapter 17   POP Shop BBQ Fundraiser and Game against the Cats

Chapter 18   Fire!

Chapter 19   An Understanding of Sorts

Chapter 20   Cheering on the Team

Chapter 21   A Chance Meeting in Town

Chapter 22   The Horny Shades

Chapter 23   Overnight Reprieve

Chapter 24   Facing the Music

Chapter 25   Flynn Comes Clean

Chapter 26   The Spectacle and Game against the Devils

Chapter 27   A Big Week Ahead

Chapter 28   A Fresh Start

Chapter 29   Ball at the Puppy Pound

Chapter 30   Birthday

Chapter 31   All Is Right with the World

Chapter 32   Scared in the Guts

Chapter 33   Morning of the Main Event

Chapter 34   Game On-The Dragons and the Spitfires

Chapter 35   HAT Concert—Live

Chapter 36   Saving zO

Acknowledgements

Love and gratitude—to my family who I treasure

Thank you—to avid book enthusiasts

Monica and Ralda

Eleanor, Nicola, and David

Gail and Louise

In Collaboration with

Rozan Wallace

Illustrator

Rimmi Johnson

1

The Dare

A warm fat tear spilled from the corner of his eye, and Flynn blinked through his spikey lashes. He was in for it now, just as he’d expected. It was hard not to stumble, but he couldn’t keep up no matter how hard he tried. And Miss Bridget’s grip, which was tightening around his neck, seemed to magnify the pounding in his furry ears. He gasped for air, again, and was grim. What was Alex going to say about this?

Miss Bridget, Flynn’s teacher, had been the target of a most revolting prank and hadn’t been able to contain her disgust. Her eyes blinked as she dragged Flynn by his collar down the hallway towards the path that led to the principal’s office. They passed Miss Tilly. Flynn didn’t make eye contact with the elderly teacher who’d become his friend. He had lost count of the detentions he’d received since arriving at his new school in zO and knew she would be disappointed he was in trouble again.

As it happened, today’s ruckus had been the result of a pact—a secret of sorts—forged the day before between Flynn and Spike, the class bully, and his gang of goons.

‘No one’s round to hear you squeal, so no point in trying.’ Spike had smirked after shoving Flynn face first off his bike in an ambush on the narrow dirt track on his way home from school. Pinned to the ground, Flynn understood Spike was boss as the boy’s boot pressed deeper into the middle of his back, just to remind him. Flynn tried to forget his skinned knee that hurt by flexing his claws. He might just have to use them if push came to shove.

‘Well, looks like Mr Fancy Feet’s got nothin’ to say then,’ Spike had goaded, with a prodding reminder as Flynn kept his mouth clamped tight. It was the only way he could keep the dirt out.

‘You’re gonna do us a dare, for funsies, like. You hear?’

Flynn glared sideways; he may have been gutsy for his age, but the stiffened slant of his rival’s ears spelled trouble.

The gleeful misfits backing up Spike made Flynn want to spew. He knew them all by sight. Daggie was chinless with tufts missing from his patchy skin from too many claw fights. Bulldog Butler was the biggest, with a mean lip that curled down. And Jed’s bare, bony knuckles showed he used them. The puniest, who Flynn couldn’t name, belched out barks just to big-note himself, Flynn thought.

Most of them kept their distance, though, for Flynn had a reputation, already, of a half-decent temper. Everyone at school knew he was the new kid who kicked rubbish bin lids farther than anyone else.

‘Yeah, and if you don’t do like we say, we’re gonna trash your sister’s danky POP shop. I got a secret stash of paint—fluoro pink; that’ll do the job.’

Outnumbered five to one, Flynn knew these thugs meant business. He’d already heard about the treatment they metered out to unsuspecting targets. Once, a kid in their grade had tried challenging Bulldog at the ball hoops and had been bundled into the cleaner’s cupboard that afternoon after school. Luckily, the janitor had come in early that evening and made the discovery. The luckless Grunt had been too scared to name his bullies, but most of the students in class guessed the culprits—ugly mutt heads.

There, trapped under Spike’s boot, Flynn’s mind painfully flashed back to that other time, five years before—to the devastating bush fire that had changed his world forever. He tried hard not to cry out as he lay sprawled, pinned to the ground. But the fearful memory—the smoke that gagged and the smell of his own hair singeing as he ducked stray flying embers—overwhelmed him again. That haunting, deadly image from the hilltop, all of which he and his big sister, Alex, and Hood, his brother had witnessed, came back to him—the horror of the Valley Gorge fire with its ring of deadly flames consuming their small bush town in the valley below. The worst had been the wait—the wait till they could return home, two days later. Flynn could still remember the smouldering ash hissing, where the flames had done their worst damage to their tree house. That was the horrifying day they discovered that their parents had perished trying to save it. This was Flynn’s most vivid memory even after five years.

He tried tightening his eyes now but couldn’t block out the heartache that was threatening to choke him. The pain in his chest stopped any words from coming out.

‘What! Mr Magic Mover got nothin’ to say!’ Spike taunted, tired of waiting for Flynn to answer.

‘Maybe he’s too spineless to do us a dare,’ the puniest one snivelled, kicking up some grit.

In that instant, Flynn blinked back to reality. And, even though his heart was thumping a little with fear, he attempted to outglare his opponents from the ground.

‘Ya don’t scare me,’ came his retaliation, his palms pressing down in the dirt, ready to spring into action if he had to.

Pity his treasured bike wasn’t close enough for a quick getaway. Scowling, Flynn wondered what their dumb dare was about anyhow. If anything happened to the shop his sister had started from scratch, only a year ago, it would break her heart. Jerks.

‘So, what’s this dare then, creep faces?’ Flynn growled, flexing his claws again to show he really wasn’t frightened. Flynn used his claws often—like when he climbed trees; it toughened them up. Catching his soccer ball, too, was that much easier since he’d grown his long.

‘Oooh aaah—we got ourselves a live one,’ squealed the scrawny one, again.

Spike sniggered, releasing his heel to crouch lower and eyeball his hostage. ‘Since you asked so nicely, we think you should show us you care. Yeah, like … care about us havin’ some fun!’

The gang’s belly laughter rang out, for they all knew it was a given who had the upper hand. Flynn snorted and tried ignoring the gritty taste of dust in his mouth as Spike stood and prowled around him.

‘You listenin’ then?’ Spike prompted.

Flynn craned his head sideways for a better view of his attackers. They still had him surrounded, so he nodded.

‘Tomorrah, during library lesson, we’re gonna spit a huge golly through the hole in the floorboards, dead smack above Miss Bridget’s desk. We’re gonna bullseye her, fair and square, on that big fat nut of hers. Then, when she freaks out, flyin’ up the stairs looking for the spitter, you’ll put your hand up and say it was you.’

What! Spit on poor Miss Bridget! That’s gross! And she was such a nice teacher, too. Flynn gulped, hoping he didn’t choke on the mouthful of dust he’d just swallowed.

‘If you cooperate, like … and cover for us, maybe we’ll leave you and your sister’s deadbeat place alone.’

‘Yeah, yeah … maybe,’ came the sniggers in the background.

Flynn stared into Spike’s steely eyes that dared him to refuse.

He cringed at the thought of taking the blame for a deed so filthy. He’d just spent the best part of the past week in detention; for what, he couldn’t quite remember now. And Principal Hoolihan had warned him he was already on thin ice. Alex would be gutted if she found out. Miss Tilly too. And the thought of disappointing them both had made Flynn frown deeply. But for sure, Spike and his gang would trash Alex’s shop if he said no.

Yeah, he could count on that.

So there he’d been, surrounded, sucking in dirt with no likely way out, with only one thought in mind. He had to protect the POP shop. After the fire, it had taken four long, lonely years of drifting from town to town till the Taylors had chanced upon zO, and Flynn knew his sister’s shop meant the world to her—well, next to him and Hood that was. He pictured her loving face. Her community shop raised money for their town. And, Flynn was especially proud her shop had built a shelter for abandoned puppies, on the shady side of the yard so they stayed cool. And everyone in town did things like donate food parcels to her shop to give to the not so lucky. If her shop got wrecked, it would be his fault, Flynn decided.

‘Okay.’

Flynn eyeballed each of the cowardly bunch from his gritty spot on the ground, delivering his own warning. ‘But, if you renege on our deal or go near my sister’s shop, I’ll come lookin’ for ya’s all!’

Spike snorted. ‘Can’t frighten us that easy!’ Then, for good measure, the boy booted Flynn’s school bag that had tumbled free in the foray.

Flynn flinched but didn’t make a sound.

‘Around here, we make the rules, right? But it’ll be worth backin’ off to see you suffer, seein’ you’re so far up yourself on the footy field—Mr Fancy Feet!’

At that, Spike nodded to his thugs to back off, and they moved away. Bulldog hadn’t been able to resist kicking gravel at Flynn’s bike where it lay in its fallen state.

Later, Flynn had had an awful job getting the grit entirely out of its chain. Mongrels.

The dust-up with Spike and his gang had come and gone, and today was the day of reckoning. The dirty deed had, indeed, been done. And Miss Bridget, whose ears were twitching, strained with the effort of hauling Flynn along, up the creaking stairs to confront the school principal.

Flynn’s tears had dried now, and even though Miss Bridget’s grip on his collar had loosened, he knew he was in for it as he stepped into the all too familiar room where he’d faced a grilling for previous misdemeanours.

‘Well, to what do I owe the pleasure today, young man?’ Principal Hoolihan asked, lacing his claws together to tap his thumbs in steady rhythm.

‘Must be serious for Miss Bridget to bring you here herself,’ he offered, indicating they take a seat before him.

Flynn took a deep breath as he sat at the front of his chair, hesitating. He wanted his story to sound believable, 100 per cent.

The principal, however, was in no mood for dilly-dally. ‘Perhaps, Miss Bridget, you might enlighten me, if the cat’s got Flynn’s tongue?’

‘Yes, Mr Hoolihan.’

Flynn watched Miss Bridget’s velvety skin shudder in disgust as she began. ‘Flynn appears to be the culprit who spat a slimy glob of spit through the hole in the floorboards above my desk that dripped down from the ceiling and landed directly onto my blue satin headband. My grade three’ers were so dumbfounded, they didn’t warn me to duck!’

Flynn watched as the filthiness of the deed registered fully on the face of the school head, whose bushy brows were sternly puckering.

‘I must say, Flynn Taylor, I have grown a little tired of your behaviour since you arrived at our school. Why, it’s not even been twelve months. Why do you repeatedly cause trouble?’

Flynn lowered his eyes whilst twisting his hands in his lap. He was feeling a little worried now. He knew if he was to fool the intimidating man into believing he was guilty, he’d need to keep his wits about him. Fudging his way through the story he’d concocted in his mind the night before was his only way of saving his sister’s shop.

Principal Hoolihan steepled his fingers and leaned forward in his large leather chair that creaked. Flynn found it hard not to squirm under the scrutinising glare so tried focussing on the important-looking books that were stacked in perfect rows in shelves behind the man’s head. There were framed pictures of past champion football teams staring back at him too.

‘I just thought it’d be fun to see if I could spit through the hole in the floorboards on level one and bullseye my target below.’

There was no response from either adult in the room. But Flynn, without even looking, could sense two chests heaving slowly in disgust.

‘It was no big deal,’ he then added for flavour. ‘My mates thought it was sooo cool, too.’ Flynn swallowed because he didn’t really have any mates but hoped the principal bought his story anyway.

The principal’s brow lifted, and his large ears pricked forward. Flynn saw the tips of them go red like he was about to explode. But, instead, the man just shook his head, like he was disappointed, while Flynn held his breath for what seemed like an eternity.

‘Well, young man, it appears past detentions haven’t curbed your troublesome ways, which, to say the least, is extremely disappointing, considering Miss Tilly has always come to your defence. And, I’m sure you don’t need reminding your sister is a regular visitor to my door. But after today, I’ve no other choice but to take a more severe line with you.’

All of a sudden, Flynn felt sick as he sat still on the spot, waiting for the punishment he was about to receive.

Calmly, the man eyeballed Flynn, showing he meant business.

Flynn blinked under his gaze.

‘You’re goalkeeper in our under-thirteen football team—correct?’ Principal Hoolihan didn’t wait for Flynn’s reply as he placed his hands steadily on the desk that separated them. ‘A privilege, I’d say, seeing as you’re only ten years old.’

The man’s eyebrows raised a notch further so as to emphasise the point. ‘And, your team, the Dragons are coming second in the school competition, right?’

‘Yeh …sss,’ murmured Flynn, unsure of what to make of the line of questioning.

‘Hmmm,’ was all the man uttered, clasping his hands together, keeping Flynn in suspense. ‘Representing our school requires you to set an example, wouldn’t you agree?’

Flynn nodded he did.

‘And, what you’ve done today is shameful, to say the least.’

Flynn blinked away the tears that were forming already as the principal delivered his words.

‘Flynn Taylor, you are hereby suspended from playing with the Dragons for the next four matches.’

Only the sound of the hallway clock could be heard ticking.

‘Go now and consider the consequences of your vulgar behaviour,’ the man added, wiping his brow. ‘And let’s see if this prevents you from repeating such vile deeds in the future.’

Flynn didn’t look at Miss Bridget, who was sitting as still as he was.

He closed his eyes and tried to stem the sadness already creeping into his heart. Next to Alex and Hood, and his friendly old teacher Miss Tilly, playing footy was the best thing that had ever happened to him. What would the boys on his team say? And how could he explain getting suspended was really because of Spike’s crummy rotten threat? And the coach? Coach Magee had made him feel like he finally belonged. Now, he’d be letting them all down. Not that he was up himself or anything, but he was their star goalie. And, while the rest of the team was a grade older and didn’t mix with him much at school, his teammates did razz him in fun on the pitch for being a lair. The coach had even said he could spot a ball quicker than anyone else, long before it left the striker’s boot. How would they all treat him now—now that he wouldn’t be around to help them win the finals?

Miss Bridget dismissed Flynn from school early. He felt lousy about her headband and understood why she was disgusted with him. His heart, like his footsteps, felt weighed down as he pushed his bike up the bush track. Stopping every now and then, Flynn thought about the days that lay ahead. Alex was away working on her big POP shop project. It was going to save their town she said. Tomorrow, she’d be home. She’d be very sad when she found out about what had happened.

Flynn swallowed the lump in his throat. His sister had shouldered most of the worry for the three of them since that miserable fire had taken away their mum and dad and their tree house. She’d been protecting Hood and him for as long as he could remember. But every now and then, when a quietness overshadowed her bubbly nature, Flynn blamed himself as the likely cause of her sorrow. He didn’t mean to be a magnet for trouble. That’s what the principal had named him once when she was called in to explain his disgusting fart barks and snot rockets in the schoolyard. And, even when he’d used the trash cans behind the school library as footy targets (and done detention), Alex hadn’t penalised him further. She never complained. But after today …

2

Brothers Home Alone

Flynn stared ahead, feeling numb. He didn’t want to face anyone just yet. He’d been wandering for hours around the out-of-the-way places only he knew about. The little cave at the base of the Woggle Woggles