Pop!

Dwight Eagleman, CEO of Mac-TonicTM, stops at nothing to maintain his Company’s No.1 World Ranking. His technicians project MacTonicTM’s logo onto the surface of the moon every night. His admen are planning to modify the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel; their latest draft includes the skilful insertion of ‘a bottle of Mac-TonicTM into Adam’s outstretched hand and a waiting glass into God’s’. When his own son shows a hint of humane concern, not to say compassion, Eagleman incarcerates him in the Company’s private prison. He could readily take his place in the 007 School of Villainy alongside Goldfinger or Blofeld.

Inevitably, Mac-TonicTM is also ranked No.1 among the World’s polluters, chief contributor to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch (three times the size of France). Eagleman has Senators and even a golf-obsessed President in his pocket. BUT. There’s a problem. Two of his executives are the guardians of Mac-TonicTM’s secret formula (they hold half each) for the fizzy nectar itself. When two private jets, each carrying one of these executives, collide at 40,000 feet over the Pacific, the formula plummets Oceanwards with them. Catastrophe. Production stops. The world gasps in an agony of thirst. Demand rockets through the stratosphere. Crates of the last available bottles are going at auction for $billions.

Woven through this story of the jealousies, ambitions, and double dealings of Big Business, there is a very different plot. Queenie (maybe about 12) lives with her obnoxious younger brother and her empty, defeated Mom (Queenie’s drunken Dad is long gone) in a squalid house on a squalid litter-strewn beach in, of all places, California. Alone among the detritus on that beach one day, Queenie (a Mac-TonicTM addict herself) finds a washed-up Mac-TonicTM bottle containing a faded list of the drink’s secret ingredients. The news leaks all over everywhere and Queenie is soon on the run, pursued by Mac-TonicTM’s Corporate Suits brandishing mega-bucks, as well as bad guys hunting the bounty now on her head. She’s joined by Scott, a boy around her own age. A friend in need; or is he? Things don’t look promising when Queenie and Scott are held captive by the bad guys aboard a small boat, themselves under attack from three black MacTonicTM helicopters. The bad guys shoot down two of the aircraft before one of the thugs is taken out by a sniper and the other, though wounded, decides to kill the kids first and then himself. How to get out of this one? No worries for our ever-inventive author. A passing man-eating alligator surges up from the depths and swiftly swallows his man.

BfK reviewers are asked to suggest reading ages for a book. This one is tricky. Is it just a crazy comic chase with children as quarries where a death isn’t worth a dime except to speed the plot along? Maybe it’s for readers around Queenie’s age; but what would she make of language (chosen where the pages fell) such as ‘with the pain of being ostracised’ or ‘this joyride to Armageddon’? Or is it a sophisticated satire about Big Business more accessible for 14-18 year olds, ready to face serious real-world questions deep within the quickfire action?

Mitch Johnson shows his hand in his Afterword. He begs his readers to take on the threat of climate change. He writes, ‘If you are a child reading this, you are too young to vote (or stand for election)’; but he urges readers to ‘speak and fight back’ because ‘it’s your world too’ and adults are leaving it in a critically dangerous state. This and much more; for all the entertaining narrative, this is a call to arms. Whatever their ages, readers’ responses will depend on their mental agility and readiness to reflect. There may be a risk that the challenging message of Pop! is lost amongst the excitement, duplicity, laughter and anarchy that crowd its pages.