The Pain, My Mother, Sir Tiffy, Cyber Boy & Me

by Michael Gerard Bauer

  (j) Nay, verily I say, it cannot come to pass!

  (k) All of the above.

  35

  Sunny Boy

  Okay. Fast forward one day to Sunday. Our Year Ten Graduation Dance (remember that? I’ve only mentioned it about a million times) was now just six days away. Everything seemed to be on track with all the key ingredients organised and under control. See below.

  • PARTNER – check.

  • TABLE – check.

  – Jeremy and I were sitting with Alison and Naheer from the nursing home visits and their friend Lisa and her partner.

  • CLOTHES – check.

  – When The Pain found out I was going shirt and tie shopping with Jeremy he said, ‘I hear that pig motifs are very in at the moment.’ Groan.

  • TRANSPORTATION – check.

  – Jeremy’s parents were dropping him at our place on their way to another function and Mum was driving us to and from the dance.

  But then I made this BIG MISTAKE. Maybe even a BIGGER MISTAKE than the BIG MISTAKE I made that very first night when I pointed out my photo to The Pain. And I think we can all agree, that was a BIG MISTAKE!

  Mum and The Pain were in the backyard putting the final touches to The Big Butt Backyard Rebuild. I’d come out to see how it was going and while I was there I just happened to remind Mum about getting to the dance early on Saturday so Jeremy and I could watch the other couples arriving.

  Now that doesn’t sound too disastrous, does it? Turns out it was though, because The Pain, who was pressing down some new turf, stopped when I said that, wiped the sweat away from his brow with the back of his hand and said, ‘Watch the others arrive? What’s that all about?’

  So I simply explained to him how quite a few of the couples would be arriving at the dance in flashy cars or limos that they either owned, hired or borrowed (or if the rumours about Carmine Price last year are true, stole) for the night, and it would be fun to get there early to watch them arrive. Then I made to leave.

  But The Pain wasn’t finished yet.

  ‘But why just watch the others? Why not join them? How about I drive you guys to the dance?’

  I froze, and slowly rotated back round.

  ‘You drive us? In what?’

  The Pain looked at me like I was a psycho.

  ‘In my car, of course.’

  ‘Your car?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Obviously The Pain hadn’t quite grasped the concept of ‘flashy’ when it came to cars. Or maybe he thought I’d said ‘trashy’. I tried to be as sensitive as possible.

  ‘Your bomby old yellow car?’

  ‘Bomby? Sunny Boy’s not bomby!’

  Yes, I kid you not. That’s what he called it.

  ‘It’s a classic! It’s a big favourite at the car club, I can tell you. Huge favourite. A 1962 column change Holden family station wagon in near-original condition. Very rare. Two-toned, with white wall tyres. What’s not to like? You won’t see one of those every day. It’s practically vintage!’

  Now let’s just pause here for a moment, in case you need some assistance decoding the above description.

  Let’s see …

  Classic: This means it’s OLD.

  1962: This means it’s well over half a century OLD.

  Near original condition: This means it’s well over half a century OLD, but it actually looks even OLDER.

  Practically vintage: This means it’s so OLD it’s borderline prehistoric.

  I needed to nip this craziness in its crazy bud.

  ‘Aw, look no, no, don’t bother. It’s okay. We’ll be fine. Honestly. Mum’s taking us. We’re good. Thanks anyway.’

  But as I should have known from my past painful experiences, you can’t rid yourself of The Pain that easily.

  ‘Nah, don’t be silly. It’s no bother at all. I’d love to do it. Why let those other kids have all the fun? Why not turn a few heads yourself?’

  Right. Except I was pretty sure that the only heads we’d be turning would be the ones trying to see what everyone else was laughing at. I desperately needed someone to help me out here – and I knew just the person!

  ‘Yeah, it’d be … pretty good I guess … but the thing is, it’s a bit late now – everything’s already organised and besides, I think MUM really wants to take us … DON’T YOU, MUM?’

  Cue HERO MUM to use her SUPERMUM POWERS to swoop in to SAVE ME!

  ‘No, it’s okay, sweetie, I don’t mind swapping. Not at all. I’m fine with it. I’d actually prefer it. You know me – when it comes to driving I’m more than happy to let someone else take the wheel! And I can still come along for the ride anyway so I won’t be missing out.’

  Cue ZERO MUM.

  ‘Look, I tell you what,’ The Pain said, ‘I’m finished here now, so how about I go give Sunny Boy a real spit and polish so you can see him at his absolute best? Then you can say yea or nay. It’ll be entirely up to you, Maggie May. How’s that sound?’

  It sounded great! I was already rehearsing my nay-saying in my head. When The Pain headed outside to begin his spitting and polishing, I confronted my mother.

  ‘Mum! What the hell?’

  ‘What? What is it? What have I done now?’

  ‘Nothing to help me out, that’s for sure. I am not turning up to the dance in that yellow crap heap. No way!’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s not that bad. And don’t swear.’

  ‘Mum. Seriously. It actually is. It’s that bad! Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you help get me out of it?’

  ‘Because Danny seemed so set on it. I think he’s trying to make up for what happened with your last date. And besides, I thought you’d like it because it would be a bit … different.’

  ‘Different? Arriving on a pogo stick dressed in a hippopotamus onesie would be different too, but I’m not going to do that either. Although compared to rolling up in good old Sunny Bomb –’

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous – and nasty. But you go ahead and do what you want, Maggie. I’m not going to argue with you about it. It’s like Danny said. It’s your decision entirely. Just don’t forget that it’s not always about you. Or at least it shouldn’t be. So if you have to say no, do it nicely.’

  My mother pointed a finger my way (rude!) and gave me a cold stare.

  ‘I mean it, Maggie. You are not to hurt Danny’s feelings, do you hear me?’

  In other words, ‘STAY AWAY FROM HIM, YOU BITCH!’

  After over an hour of washing, scrubbing, hosing, drying, polishing, buffing, dusting, vacuuming and inspecting every ‘practically vintage’ inch of Sunny Boy, The Pain stuck his head inside the front door and called for me to come and inspect his handiwork.

  And to say yea or nay.

  I went along with him and stood beside the car. He had a big, proud, dopey grin stuck on his face. He swept an arm at the car dramatically.

  ‘Thar she blows. Well, what do you think?’

  What I thought was: Wow! All that washing, scrubbing, hosing, drying, polishing, buffing, dusting, vacuuming and inspecting … really didn’t make that much of a difference at all, did it? But what I said was, ‘It looks … cleaner. Yeah. Definitely cleaner.’

  I wouldn’t say that The Pain was overjoyed with my review.

  ‘Hey, try to contain your excitement if you can, Maggie. Don’t want you giving yourself a coronary.’

  Then he started waving his hands about and pointing things out to me.

  ‘Look, what you have to keep in mind is that everything you’re looking at here is the original. Everything. The paintwork, the chrome, the seat covers, everything. Nothing’s been done over or touched up. Nothing’s fake. You’d be hard pressed to find another one like it anywhere.’

  That was comforting to know. But for Mum’s sake I did try to manufacture some kind of ‘mildly impressed’ expression and jam it over my totally unimpressed face.

  ‘Righto! Decision time! And I meant what I said to you before. No pressure, okay? Yes, I
’d get a huge kick out of chauffeuring you guys on Saturday night, I really would, but if you’re not keen for any reason at all, then that’s completely fine. Your call and yours alone. So what’s it to be? Yea or nay?’

  He really couldn’t have made it any easier for me. The answer I needed to give was simple.

  ‘Thanks a lot for the offer and for washing the car and everything. It was really nice of you. But I’m fine with Mum dropping us in. Really.’

  See, easy-peasy!

  And that’s what I could have said and what I wanted to say.

  But didn’t.

  Don’t ask me why. Maybe I had a brain meltdown. Maybe I felt a bit sorry for him and didn’t totally buy the ‘no worries’ line he was pushing. Maybe I did it for Mum. Maybe it had something to do with that ‘not all about you’ comment she’d made earlier.

  Personally I think the brain meltdown is the most likely explanation, but whatever the reason, what I actually said to The Pain was, ‘Um, okay. All right. Thanks. Can’t see why we couldn’t go with you. Now that the car’s cleaned up and everything. So I guess that’s a … yea … from me.’

  For a moment The Pain just stared at me. With no trace of a smirk or sneaky smile on his face. Nothing at all. It was weird.

  ‘All righty, then,’ he said finally, still gawking at me. ‘That’s all I needed to hear from you, Maggie May. All I needed to know. Let’s make this dance a night to remember!’

  For once The Pain and I were on the same page. I was really hoping it would be a night to remember too. The only problem was, things get remembered for different reasons, don’t they? Like sometimes you remember them because they’re so awesomely brilliant. And sometimes you remember them because they’re so soul-destroyingly bad. The graduation dance could definitely go either way.

  But with The Pain and Sunny Boy kicking it off for me, I had a pretty fair idea which one I’d be putting my money on.

  36

  That time machine thingie

  I didn’t see much of Jeremy the next week at school because we were both caught up with exams. But after a busy five days the weekend finally arrived and soon it was Saturday night – the night of the St Brenda’s Year Ten Graduation Dance.

  Jeremy turned up at our house right on time – and with a rose. Nawwwwww! His parents popped in briefly to say hello too. They were quite a bit older than Mum, but lovely. It was so adorable to see them fussing over the ‘baby’ of the family. They stayed just long enough to take a few photos and embarrass me (in a good way) by saying more than once how ‘beautiful’ and ‘gorgeous’ and ‘grown-up’ I looked. (If there was any truth in that at all, it was because my mother was a miracle worker when it came to make-up and because my hair had successfully undergone a rigorous Taarsheebah recovery program over the past nine weeks.)

  Oh, and Jeremy thought I looked okay too. Actually ‘incredible’ was the word he came out with when he managed to untie his tongue. I’ll take that any day. And I think he might have meant it too, because I kept catching him staring at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. When he realised I was, he almost went into an embarrassment overload. So cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!

  Jeremy looked pretty great as well, all dressed up in the new clothes we’d bought him. Especially when he listened to his mum’s instructions to Stand up straight and push those shoulders back. Of course he was still a nervous, awkward, geeky guy, but I was feeling pretty chuffed that for one night at least he was my nervous, awkward, geeky guy.

  Everything seemed to be going so well that even the thought of turning up at the dance in Dunny Boy didn’t feel like such a downer any more. So what if some people did laugh or make fun of it? What did I care? Nothing was going to ruin my night.

  Then the phone call came from The Pain.

  He’d promised to be at our house well before six-thirty, but it was already six twenty-five and he was nowhere to be seen. I was starting to get just a little jumpy. After all, this was The Pain we were talking about and he didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to making my day. Remember that first night? Remember the stump thing? Remember Jason?

  Mum’s mobile rang not long after Jeremy’s parents left. This is what I heard.

  ‘Danny? Where are you? We thought you’d be here by now. There’s no problem, is there? (Looooooooong pause) Oh. Right. Oh dear. What a shame. Okay. No, I understand. Yes. Yes, I’ll put her on.’

  I didn’t much like the expression on Mum’s face. She handed me the phone like it was a filled nappy.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Maggie? It’s Danny. Look … I’m really sorry, but there’s been a bit of a hiccup.’

  He was speaking like someone had died. (Of hiccups?)

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m not going to be able to take you to the dance tonight after all. I’m sorry. Sunny Boy’s playing up. Won’t start. I thought it was just spark plugs, but it’s more serious than that. Nothing I can’t fix of course, but it’ll take me too long. I’d never get there in time. I’m so sorry to have to let you down, Maggie. I really am.’

  I wasn’t that sorry. Any last nerves I had about turning up at the dance in Crummy Boy had just been eliminated. I took the news bravely.

  ‘Hey, that’s okay. No worries. Not your fault. Can’t be helped. Thanks for offering anyway. We’ll be fine. No problem at all. Mum can still drive us, like we originally planned.’

  On the lounge opposite me, Mum was nodding her agreement. I couldn’t believe my luck. The whole ‘driving to the dance’ thing had actually worked out beautifully. I’d been a hero and done the right thing by Mum and The Pain by saying yea to him driving us, and now I was being saved from the humiliation of actually having to go through with it. I was having my good karma cake and eating it too. And it was YUM! So it was goodbye Sunny Bomb, hello, medium-sized, normal, zero-embarrassment, magnificently boring family car.

  It seemed almost too good to be true.

  Which it was.

  The Pain’s voice was still buzzing in my ear.

  ‘No, Maggie, wait, you don’t understand. She won’t have to. I’ve managed to get you a last-minute replacement.’

  Uh-oh.

  ‘A replacement?’

  ‘Yeah. I did a quick ring around the guys from the car club and I finally got someone who could fill in for me. Not a bad alternative all up, but not as good as Sunny Boy, of course.’

  Double uh-ho.

  ‘Not as good as Sunny Boy?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think so, but everyone’s entitled to their own opinion. Anyway, the replacements, Pete and Justin, should be arriving there any minute. You’ll like them – been partners for ages. Lovely, sweet guys.’

  And now I’m thinking that the alternative to Sunny Boy was going to be like something out of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

  ‘There’s just one little problem …’

  Of course there was!

  ‘You and Jeremy will have to travel in separate vehicles.’

  Now things were getting weird.

  ‘Separate vehicles? Why?’

  ‘Pete and Justin’s cars are only two-seaters. But hey, don’t worry. It’ll still look like you’re arriving together, because they’re exactly the same make, model and colour.’

  It just kept getting better and better. We’d obviously be arriving in matching go-carts. Possibly rainbow-coloured and covered in sequins and tassels.

  ‘Maggie? Are you still there?’

  Yes. Unfortunately I was. I’d just been having some sort of out-of-body experience.

  ‘Ah, yeah. But look, it sounds like a lot of bother and I don’t want to put anyone else out. Mum’s happy to take us. Really. It’s no problem. We’ll just …’

  ‘It’s too late for that, Maggie. It’s all been arranged. I can’t call it off now. Pete and Justin have gone to a lot of trouble and done me a big favour to fill in at such short notice. Anyway, they must be almost there by now.’

  And right on cue a set of head
lights flashed across the curtains at the end of the lounge room. Followed by a second set.

  ‘Just arrived,’ I told The Pain, sounding now like I was the one announcing someone’s passing.

  ‘Thank goodness. That’s a relief. Anyway, I better let you go. I just wish I could be there to see you. I’m sure you must look beautiful, although to tell you the truth, I thought you were kind of beautiful, even back in your “hideous” days. Have a wonderful night anyway, Maggie May. Sorry again about the car. I just hope I haven’t ruined anything for you.’

  He’d hung up before I could tell him that thanks to my father, I was used to being let down. I stood up and let the phone slip from my hand into my mother’s lap.

  ‘Maggie?’

  The words fell out of my mouth like stones.

  ‘You don’t have to drive us. He’s got someone else to do it. That was them arriving just now.’

  I walked over and stood in front of the windows. I didn’t know if I had the courage to look. What was that thing Macbeth said? If it were done t’was well it were done quickly? Something like that.

  I drew back the curtains.

  And there were TWO ALIEN SPACESHIPS parked in our driveway.

  Or at least that’s what I thought, because the vehicles that were there were shiny and silver and all sharp angles and bright lights.

  Jeremy came over and joined me. He leant his head over my head.

  ‘Holy crap,’ he said. ‘Are you serious? We’re going in them?’

  I didn’t answer. I was too busy watching the doors on both cars opening. But not like normal doors. They lifted vertically until they were sticking up into the air like metallic wings. Metallic wings on two silver, futuristic beetles that were about to take off.

  ‘Holy crap,’ I agreed. ‘What are they?’

  ‘DeLoreans,’ Jeremy said, like he was in a church or something. ‘Two of them. Two silver DeLoreans. Like in the Back to the Future films. Only there’s … two of them.’

  I remembered watching that movie with Mum and Dad. Ages ago.

  ‘That time machine thingie?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Jeremy said, lost in some kind of orgasmic geek trance. ‘That … time machine … thingie.’