Hazel Wood Girl Read Online Free Page A

didn’t get to the Hazel Wood until the afternoon, which was good because I wasn’t hanging out for it like a spare.
    Today’s note from The Watcher reads,
    Great job, Hazel Wood Girl.
    Today’s mission is as follows: 1) Tell me a joke 2) Who do you think I am? 3) Do something outrageous.
    From,
    The Watcher
    OK, I can tell the joke about ‘What’s brown and sticky? – A stick’, because it’s the only one I can ever remember. I’m thinking now that maybe Dad is The Watcher, but I’m not certain. I know Dad would only be trying to cheer me up, but that would be a major downer. No, I have a strong feeling it’s someone more on my wavelength, an actual friend.
    As for the ‘outrageous’ thing, I’m not exactly the outrageous kind. The worst I’ve ever done is say that I don’t like cheesecake when it’s supposed to be everyone’s favourite. Or maybe bunking off school that day I found out that they call me The Farmer.
    Anyway it says, ‘Do something outrageous,’ which means something new.
    Mrs Hooper came around to our house tonight and was talking away to Mum in the kitchen for ages. Mum said,
    ‘Of course, you’ve met Poppy, our quiet one.’ They both said I should go around and keep Christophe company. Yeah, like I’d be up for playing computer games and talking about skateboards or whatever little boys are into. That’s the worst thing about living out here, your choice of people to hang out with is very limited. Especially when none of the hopefuls will look your way. I am going to write a letter to JL just for the hell of it and to stop me phoning.

DAY NINETEEN
    I wrote a letter to JL, but I will never send it. In fact I burned it already in the bathroom sink and the burning smell stuck around. Now Mum and Dad think I am smoking and we have to have another conversation tonight.
    I asked Adam did he know any jokes and he said none that my Dad would forgive him for telling me. So, I guess it’s the sticky stick joke then. Can’t think of anything outrageous to do.

DAY TWENTY
    I spent the afternoon sitting in the only café in town where you don’t have to order food, and have drunk so much orange juice that I’m safe from colds or flu for the next ten years.
    I really miss my old café in the city beside the art gallery, the one that changed its name and menu every six months. And the way I could go to see a movie, or shop, or all those basic things, every day if I wanted. Now even getting a decent haircut involves a military-style plan and three week’s notice. What’s the point of living far away from the things that you need to have a life?
    I have been daydreaming about JL so much that it doesn’t even feel good any more. Like when you sit in a hot bath for too long and go all wrinkly, you want to stick with it, but you know it’s time to move on. Maybe that’s how Dad felt about living in the city.

DAY TWENTY-ONE
    I ran down to the Hazel Wood to see if there was a note, and it was fantastic –
    Dear Hazel Wood Girl,
    Hmmm, A stick! Ha ha, OK, funny (just about!). Here is a better joke and just as short. What do you call a man with no arms and no legs in a swimming pool? – Bob!’
    I know all those ones from my last school. My favourite is – What do you call a woman with one leg? Eileen. Then what do you call a woman with twolegs? – Noleen.
     
    Then the note said,
    I am not your dad or Mrs Hooper, or the couple from the Egg Farm (Wow, are they a piece of work or what!?), so keep guessing. Maybe when we meet we can think of something outrageous for you to do.
    Another question, Hazel Wood Girl.
    What is the best thing that ever happened to you?
    From, The Watcher.
    I’ve been thinking about that all day, and I think that the BEST thing that ever happened to me was when I sang a song in front of my family, and all my cousins and uncles and aunts at my Grandad’s birthday. I sang one that used to be Grandad’s favourite and he hadn’t heard it in years and there were