Winning a Giraffe Called Geoffrey Read Free

voice was the last one he wanted to hear. Any kid except him.
    â€˜Need my puffer. Mrs. Tasker’s got it.’
    Art didn’t have time to wonder why Mario was coming from the wrong direction. He just waited as Mario jogged away, hoping that someone would come back with his puffer.
    He stumbled towards the big tree. Art could feel the waves in his throat. He got angry with his chest when it messed him up. Why did it have to happen today? The waves got bigger and bigger. His chest was tight.
    He stumbled towards the big gum tree. It seemed like hours, but was probably minutes before Mrs. Tasker lumbered towards him, arm outstretched.
    â€˜Need your puffer, Art?’
    Hhh ... Yesss ... Mrs Taskkkk ... er.’
    Gratefully he puffed. His chest was still tight, but getting better.
    â€˜Okay?’ Mrs. Tasker didn’t fuss. He liked that. It would be bad enough facing Mario afterwards.
    Art stood there, chest heaving, waiting for his body to catch up. The other kids were out of sight. Art had that ‘left-behind’ feeling again. Why did his chest have to let him down?
    â€˜That was scary.’
    â€˜Want to drop out?’ asked Mrs. Tasker.
    Art shook his head. Through the trees he could see India running. She was on her way back. Her black hair stuck out. Her stick legs were going fast. She didn’t have asthma.
    â€˜Well, you got more than halfway this time,’ said Mrs. Tasker as she lumbered up the hill.
    â€˜I wanted to run all the way.’ Art was disappointed. ‘I’ve got to get some practice or I’ll never make the cross country team.’
    â€˜That’s important, eh?’
    Art nodded.
    At first, he used to hide his puffer. He didn’t want the other kids to know. Asthma was a bad word. He couldn’t even spell it. The ‘s’ always went in the wrong place. But later, he didn’t mind so much. India sprinted to the Finish. Then she bent over to get her breath. At the same time, she flicked the stop on her watch. ‘Three kilometers in nineteen minutes,’ she panted proudly.
    Art watched on the sidelines. If he couldn’t run fast, perhaps there were other ways.
    â€˜How fast can a giraffe run?’ Art imagined himself as a jockey.
    â€˜Giraffes can reach the speed of 48 kilometres an hour at a gallop,’ said Mrs. Tasker.
    â€˜Thanks.’ That might be the answer.
    Mr. Douglas jogged past. ’Cross-country on Friday. Will you be okay then Art?’
    Art nodded. His best was 27 minutes. India always beat him. So did most of the kids except Mario. But then Mario usually nicked off to buy a Mars Bar at the shop.
    â€˜Got your puffer again, Artie,’ sneered Mario.’ You’ll never get in the cross country team.’
    Art nearly said, ‘Get lost Mario.’ But then he remembered that Mario had gone for Mrs. Tasker and the puffer.
    Mrs. Tasker overheard Mario.’ Made a little detour again, Mario? You did get lost didn’t you? Give!’
    Mario fumbled under his sweaty T-shirt. The Mars Bar was squashed and had tooth marks.
    â€˜Thank you Mario.’ The chocolate bar vanished into one of Mrs. Tasker’s pockets.
    â€˜That’s not fair.’
    â€˜Your grandmother told me about your diet. No chocolate. And lots of exercise,’ said Mrs. Tasker firmly.
    â€˜It’s my own money.’
    â€˜Invest in something else, next time.’ Mrs. Tasker swept away to the Finish.
    â€˜What are you staring at?’ Mario turned on Art. ‘You couldn’t even finish. I saw you skulking off. Pretending to die under the tree.
    The word ‘thanks’ got stuck in Art’s throat. So he didn’t say it. India walked up, hands on her hips. ‘Tiny could run this course in two minutes.’
    Art believed her. With Tiny’s untiny legs, it would only take a few bounds to go from start to finish.
    â€˜Want a bet?’ Mario faced India. ‘My dog’s faster than