leaving the dancer to pick up the check. Unfortunately for the criminal, the killers find him and as soon as he’s blabbed about the jewel’s location, they kill him.
‘Shoulda seen that coming,’ hissed Clancy.
‘They never do,’ replied Ruby.
Naturally, then the murderers turn their attention to the dancer, and she has to run for it, still wearing her glittery yellow tap shoes, running across rooftops and cable-car cables and you name it. The shoes, noisy and sparkly, made her easy to spot.
One had to wonder why this woman couldn’t just stop off and buy a decent pair of sneakers? It would have saved her an awful lot of grief, but then that would spoil the whole premise of the movie.
‘Boy, does she have the loudest scream,’ said Clancy, his ears still ringing as he left the theatre.
‘The loudest scream in Hollywood was what they said,’ said the guy from the ticket booth.
‘It was highly unrealistic,’ commented Clancy, ‘but on balance I liked it.’
‘I think she’s a whole lot better in Don’t Call My Name, but then it’s a much better film,’ said the guy. ‘It’s a total classic.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Ruby.
‘The only reason the Canary is so famous,’ continued the ticket booth guy, ‘is because it’s the movie that made Bardem famous, and that’s only because she does those like totally cool stunts – I mean, without the stunts I don’t reckon Margo Bardem would have even been noticed.’
‘I can’t agree with you there Horace,’ said Ruby. ‘Margo’s got charisma and that goes a long way – she can deliver a comedy line as well as any comedian and that ain’t as easy as it looks.’
Horace shrugged. ‘I guess, but I still think it’s a lame film – take away those stunts and the film would have been a total wipe-out.’
Ruby and Clancy walked out into the sunlight.
‘So, you have a better idea now of who might have taken the shoes?’
‘Not a clue,’ said Ruby.
‘Me either,’ said Clancy.
They rode back towards West Twinford and on to Cedarwood Drive.
‘So what’s your plan,’ said Clancy, ‘the one you came up with to prevent me getting another detention?’
‘You’re taking grade five trumpet,’ said Ruby.
‘But I don’t even play the trumpet,’ said Clancy.
‘Exactly, so you can’t fail,’ said Ruby.
‘Jeepers,’ whined Clancy, ‘some great plan – I mean, totally foolproof.’
‘What do you mean? No one’s gonna ask you to suddenly play the trumpet,’ said Ruby.
‘That’s what you think,’ said Clancy. ‘Word gets around that I play the trumpet and suddenly I’m appearing at the junior high school concert.’
‘And that’s when you fake a broken finger or get amnesia,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s no biggy.’
‘I think you must have damaged more than your limbs in that fall,’ said Clancy. ‘So what’s your excuse?’
‘I’ve been at physio,’ said Ruby, holding her arm up, ‘damaged arms sure are useful.’
‘You have a legit excuse and I have a totally bogus one,’ moaned Clancy, but Ruby had stopped listening.
‘You know what, Clance, drop me right here on the corner of Lime, I need to get a pack of bubblegum, I’ll catch you tomorrow.’
Ruby hopped off and Clancy cycled towards home, all the time looking out for a possible ambush. He was tired of this feeling; constantly fearing a voice behind him, or worse. Like he needed another gormless Neanderthal patrolling the streets around school, calling him names. Bullies travelled in packs, hunting down the most vulnerable. Clancy fitted the bill, he knew he did, he always had. From his first toddler party, his first morning at kindergarten, he knew it.
There were plenty of kids smaller than him, skinnier, uglier (Clancy would actually be considered nice-looking, but it didn’t count for much when you totted up all the other victim check points). He just fitted a profile that caught the bullies’ attention and although he had a best friend in Ruby Redfort this in some ways only served to make his plight worse. They loathed him the more for it – he had this band of cool kids to hang out with, he was close to the toughest most popular kid of all, but he himself was a loser. What did she see in him, why pick him when she could hang out with better specimens? This was how they always saw it. He sighed to himself. Clancy Crew you are such a loser.
It was when Ruby was nearing Cedarwood Drive that she heard a sort of familiar voice. ‘Hey!’
She looked up and saw the good-looking boy hanging by his fingertips from the top of a street lamp.
‘Oh it’s you, the boy who goes round asking people personal questions.’
‘Hi,’ said the boy. He swung himself back and connected with the lamppost’s trunk and shinned down to the sidewalk.
‘What were you doing?’ asked Ruby.
‘Just testing my nerve, seeing how long I could hang without, you know, falling.’
‘Sounds like an intelligent pursuit,’ said Ruby.
‘You should try it from a crane,’ said the boy, whistling. ‘Really pumps the adrenalin, and, you know, it’s something to do.’
‘That’s your motivation?’ She looked at him with such an intense expression that he looked away uneasily. ‘So,’ said Ruby, ‘what is it?’
‘What?’
‘Your name buster.’
‘My friends call me Beetle,’ said the boy.
‘If that’s what you wanna go by then that’s fine with me,’ shrugged Ruby.
‘You’re Ruby, right?’
‘Word gets around.’
‘Last time I saw you, you had a cast – on your arm.’
‘Yes I did, and now I don’t,’ said Ruby.
‘So they sawed it off?’ he said.
‘It would seem so,’ said Ruby, looking at her cast-free arm.
‘Did it hurt – when they took it off, I mean?’
‘Only when they sawed right through and on into my arm.’
He looked alarmed for a second and then nodded. ‘Oh, you’re kidding.’ He laughed a bit too much,
