Two Wolves by Tristan Bancks Page B

corrected.
    â€˜Then you have to hide the dog somewhere in the playground and kids have to find it.’
    â€˜Real dogs?’ Ben asked, smiling.
    â€˜No. Pretend dogs. I usually choose a poodle because they’re not very heavy. I picked a Labrador once and nearly died from dragging it over to the bushes behind the swings.’
    Ben wanted to ask how a pretend dog could be heavy and how the others find the dogs if they are invisible, but he could see the conversation going on for hours.
    â€˜So what was he hiding? Tell me or you’re not coming to my birthday party.’
    â€˜I don’t want to come to your birthday party,’ Ben said. ‘And you’re probably not having one.’
    â€˜Yes, you do . . . And yes, I am!’
    â€˜No, I don’t and no, you’re not.’
    â€˜Fine, I’m going on a cruise around the Caribbean, finishing up at Walt Disney World with a cake that has blue icing, but whatever.’
    Cake. Food. Hunger. Ben could taste the icing.
    â€˜Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t import­ant. Just Dad getting angry like always.’
    He continued weaving reeds through the logs at four different points along the raft. It was slow work but the shush of creek and call of birds made them forget about time. After an hour they stood back and looked at their creation. Ben had used nine logs. It was a bit rough and wonky.
    â€˜Not bad for a first raft,’ he said.
    They lifted the end of it and dragged it down over the slick rocks. The raft was heavy and awkward to carry, the centre of it sagging. Ben worried that the grass ties might snap. He took three or four breaks before he was finally able to drop one end of the raft into the creek.
    He sent a prayer up into the trees and sky that it would float. There was a shrill whistle from up the hill.
    â€˜You two! Come!’ Dad’s voice echoed through the tall timbers.
    Ben was snapped out of his dream state. His bubble was punctured and the last couple of days rushed in.
    â€˜Olive? Ben?’ Mum called. ‘Food!’
    He wanted to pretend he didn’t hear, but it was past lunchtime and he was so hungry.
    â€˜C’mon,’ he said.
    â€˜I want to see if it floats,’ Olive whined.
    â€˜Later,’ Ben said. ‘We need to eat.’
    They dragged the raft up the rocks. Ben found some bushy branches and covered it.
    â€˜Ben!’ Mum called again.
    â€˜Keep your pants on,’ he muttered and started to make his way up the hill. He could feel the creek flowing out of his body, and fear flowing in. Would Dad still be angry about what Ben had seen? He used to think that there were two of his dad, the nice one and the angry one. Lately the nice one hadn’t been around much.
    As he climbed the hill, Ben made a promise to himself that he would work out where the money had come from and why they were lying to him. He was sick of being treated like a child. He was going undercover. He would find the truth.

Ben and Olive came over the rise and into the sandy clearing in front of the cabin, crossing back into the real world.
    â€˜Detective,’ Ben whispered, reminding himself.
    â€˜What?’ Olive asked as they headed toward the cabin.
    â€˜Nothing. Don’t tell them about the raft, okay?’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜It’s our secret.’ He stopped outside the cabin. Olive grinned. He knew that this would make her feel big and special. She probably wouldn’t keep the secret but he could hope.
    Detective.
    He pushed open the door.
    â€˜Here they are!’ Dad said. He sounded almost chirpy.
    Mum and Dad were seated at the table on new camping chairs. There was other camping gear strewn around the cabin – esky, blow-up mattresses, gas cooker. Ben dared to look into the open roof area. The bag and black plastic were no longer there.
    â€˜You’ve been gone for hours,’ Mum said. ‘Thought you