Finding Cassie Crazy

by Jaclyn Moriarty

  Also, I have seen on TV that you can get head transplants and it seems to me that it is a tragedy if you are bald and you don’t get a head transplant.

  My dad agreed with me heartily and with much joy, when I pointed out that Lydia’s dad should get a head transplant.

  Yours sincerely

  Emily Thompson

  PS I completely forgot the point of this letter! It was to say that we should learn from Lydia’s dad, because if he can be bald and still be attractive to women, well then!

  PPS You can really learn from him, I guess.

  PPPS. So therefore I thought about that while I was at Lydia’s place. I noticed that her father plays a lot of snooker with various friends in the family games room. He seems to be sharp at snooker, and offers brandies and cigars to his friends while they are playing, and makes urban comments about the cigars. As well as being urban, he can be quite trivial. For instance, the other night we stopped by the games room to see if we could play snooker while we were eating our pizza and he was in there with two women. He put on a strong Italian accent and said, ‘Pepperoni, eh? Mamma make-a the pepperoni pizza, eh?’ If you can believe it, the two women giggled. Then he put on a French accent instead, and told us to leave him, because he was entertaining mon cheries, gesturing towards the giggling women.

  He is a ladies man, as I have said, and so you should learn from that.

  Dear Emily

  Thanks for your advice about the pepperoni pizza and the head transplants.

  My brothers sit on the back porch and drink beer when they get home from work each day and that means that they are alcoholics.

  I’m sitting out here with them now, freezing my balls off in the dark, trying to see this paper using the lights of their cigarettes. They’ve been talking about building a fire pit alongside the porch for as long as I can remember so that we can keep warm out here, but they never do, just figure out how they would do it.

  I have no socks at all today because Jessica has stolen them all to keep her worms warm. She’s got a worm farm in a garbage bin in the backyard, which stinks.

  Meantime, my mother has been having a bath all afternoon, to get over the nervous breakdown she had over Jess’s tattoo. So the bathroom also stinks, but of some kind of jasmine flavouring designed to get Mum sleepy.

  It’s funny that you say guys smell bad, because in my family I reckon it’s the women.

  Catch ya

  Charlie

  Dear Charlie

  Sometimes I think I might have already lived too much for a teenager. You know, because I have been to Spain, France, Italy, England and the United States of America. Where else is there? I am too cosmopolitan for my own good.

  But not cosmopolitan enough to see my horses this weekend because there is nobody to drive me to the south coast where we keep them. I never get to see them, you know.

  I have thought of some more advice for you for trying to impress that girl called Christina. Well, first you have to be very, very funny. I have realised that it is essential for a boy to be funny. Otherwise, what is the point in a boy?

  The boy must be funny. It’s a rule, and it’s similar with fat people. There is no point in being fat unless you are funny.

  Yours sincerely

  Emily

  Dear Emily

  There are a couple of things I have to point out about your letter.

  One of them is that I can’t be funny. I have tried to be funny but I’m crap at it. So what do I do if I’m a boy and I’m not funny?

  The other thing I have to say is that I think it is wrong what you said about fat people—that fat people have to be funny. I think it’s actually a bit racist.

  Catch ya

  Charlie

  Dear Charlie

  I hope you’re not fat. All that supporting of fat people.

  If a boy is not able to be funny, then the boy should not talk at all. The boy should be completely silent.

  Yours sincerely

  Emily

  Em

  Did you know that you can be supportive of people even though you are nothing like them yourself?

  Charlie

  Dear Charlie

  Only Lyd and Cass call me Em. But I suppose it’s okay if you want to call me Em, OCCASIONALLY. Just not all the time.

  Of course I knew that it was okay to be nice and supportive of people who are not like me. What do you think I am doing for you? I am being nice and supporting you.

  Talking about that, I just had this great idea, the greatest idea. It is this. We should go out together.

  DON’T GET EXCITED. IT WOULD NOT BE REAL.

  It would be a TRAINING SESSION to prepare you for this Christina girl. It would be a kind of practice run, of Going on a Date with a Girl, and I could be the Girl. Then I could give you my degradation afterwards and also make suggestions for improvement.

  Also, you can pay me for it if you like.

  Yours sincerely

  Emily

  Dear Emily

  That is so generous and you continue to strike me as the best thing of humanity. What about this Friday night?

  Charlie

  PS Do you realise that if I pay you to go on a date that makes you a prostitute?

  Dear Charlie

  I have noticed something about the names in your family: Brian, Kevin and Jack, and also your name: Charlie.

  I think you should change these names.

  Lydia went out with this guy once who was called Bruce, and we all decided she had to break up with him because of it, the name, and so therefore she did.

  You see? It’s a risk.

  I think you should change your name, for example to Adam or Ashley or Aaron or anything else beginning with ‘A’. And you should change all your brothers’ names, similarly.

  Yours sincerely

  Emily

  PS I have reconsidered and decided that you don’t need to pay for the date. It will be free. Okay, I am free this Friday night for your Date with a Girl. It’s the last day before the holidays, too, so I would normally go out with Cass and Lyd, so I am making a genuine sacrifice for you.

  Emily

  Thank you for your great suggestion about changing my name and the names of all my brothers. I can’t do anything about my brothers, but from now on my name will begin with an ‘A’.

  I’m nervous about the Date that I am having with a Girl this Friday.

  Yours sincerely

  Aristotle

  PS If you go on a date with me for free, then you are a slut.

  Charlie

  HA HA HA. About the Aristotle, I mean. Not about the ‘slut’, which is offensive, and you are using up the times that I will forgive you.

  Okay. You can be Charlie. But try not to use your name too much in conversation.

  And I don’t see why you can’t re-name your brothers. Why don’t you have any strength of character? It sounds to me a lot like those brothers of yours push you around, and I think you could reinstigate your position in the family if you changed your brothers’ names for them. From there, it would be a simple step to stealing this girl called Christina from her boyfriend.

  Emily

  Dear Emily

  Do you think you can give me some advice on what I should wear, on a Date with a Girl? There are only three days to the Date, so I would like to feel fully prepared.

  Catch ya

  Archibald

  Dear Charlie

  I recommend that you wear black, including black jeans and a black jacket and black running shoes on your feet and black socks if you can get any out of your sister’s worm farm. Also, you could wear a piece of black rope around your neck with a little seashell hanging off it. A girl would like that. ☺

  It’s the middle of the night right now and I had to get up because I was so hungry. I had to eat some of the letters off the birthday cake that my mother bought for my uncle, and now it says ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, UNCLE CHRIST’. So I am going to have to eat the ‘T’ as well, for obvio
us reasons.

  I was in an earthquake once, you know. It was on a family trip to España. I was excellent in a crisis and I looked up ‘Help!’ in the Spanish phrase book for my dad.

  Yours sincerely

  Emily

  PS As I explained before, I have revoked my invitation that you change your name. I have now decided that the name ‘Charlie’ is acceptable, and so therefore please stop calling yourself by the ‘A’ names. It is not funny, you know. It is just tiresome and sometimes can be confusing.

  Em

  Where do you think I should take a girl on a date? I don’t want to get it wrong. Should it be a movie or dinner or something wacky like going to see a circus or taking a walk along a beach? Can you answer urgently because there are only two days to go.

  Aloysius

  Charlie

  I think it is too cold to go for a walk on a beach for a date and I think girls like movies a lot. I think we should just meet at the Castle Hill movies at 7 pm on Friday.

  Can you please just call yourself Charlie now? Okay? I will now admit that I was wrong. OKAY. I WAS COMPLETELY WRONG WITH MY INSPIRATION ABOUT CHANGING YOUR NAME. OKAY, OKAY, OKAY.

  Em

  Em

  How do we decide what movie to see?

  Abraham

  Charlie

  Well, when we get there you should say: ‘What do you feel like seeing?’ And the girl will suggest a movie, and you will laugh and make a little joke about why you don’t want to see that movie.

  I am sure you can think of a joke for it.

  Anyhow, and then the girl will say, ‘Okay, we’ll see something else’, but then you will insist that we see what the girl suggested!

  Em

  Charlie!

  I am rushing this note and so therefore you will not be able to read the handwriting, but it’s VERY VERY VERY important that you bring chocolate when you go on a date, especially as it is the start of the holidays. I can hardly wait for the holidays as I am very tired.

  It doesn’t have to be chocolate in the shape of a heart. That would be stupid actually if you did that. ☺

  It just has to be a giant-sized Toblerone.

  Yours sincerely

  Em

  Charlie!

  Also, you could bring a magazine along, in case the girl gets bored, and then she can read the magazine instead. Cosmopolitan or Vogue would be sensible.

  Em

  Em

  Okay, see you tonight and I’ll be dressed in black, and carrying a Toblerone, as per your instructions.

  I won’t bring a magazine though.

  The girl is not going to get bored.

  See you later

  Adonis

  PART 12

  AUTUMN TERM

  LYDIA AND

  SEBASTIAN

  Dear Sebastian

  Huh, the computer just told me that it looks like I’m writing a letter. Spooky. How did it know? It wants to help. It’s a little paperclip man and it wants to help.

  That is so nice of it. I’ll try to talk to it.

  YES PLEASE, PAPERCLIP MAN. HELP ME WRITE THIS LETTER. WHAT SHOULD I SAY NEXT?

  (It’s not saying anything, Seb. It’s just smiling at me. Maybe it needs more information? Wait.)

  DO YOU NEED MORE INFORMATION?

  (It blinked at me.)

  WELL, OKAY, HERE IS SOME INFORMATION: THE LETTER IS TO SEBASTIAN. HE’S A GUY AT BROOKFIELD AND HE WANTS ME TO PROVE THAT I’M NOT A SNAKE. ALSO, TO SHOW HIM THAT I’M NOT AFRAID OF MY FATHER. YOU LOOK CONFUSED! I KNOW, SO AM I. HOW IS IT HIS BUSINESS IF I’M AFRAID OF MY FATHER OR NOT?

  PARDON?

  WELL, HE THINKS I WANT TO BUY DOPE OFF HIM. I KNOW! I KNOW! IT’S NOT HIS FAULT. HE’S JUST A BROOKER KID, AS MY TEACHER WOULD SAY. MAYBE THEY DON’T REALISE WHEN PEOPLE ARE MESSING WITH THEM THERE? WHAT SHOULD I SAY TO HIM?

  (Sorry Seb, I’m just talking to my paperclip man here. I don’t mean to leave you hanging. Paperclip man said I can get dope easy at Ashbury, so why would I want someone at Brookfield to send it to me? We had a good laugh about you.)

  HUH, REALLY?

  (Hey, Seb, guess what he said? He said I should not bother writing to you, I should trash my bedroom and chuck this computer out my window. It seems profoundly excessive, doesn’t it? I’ll ask if he really means it.)

  PAPERCLIP MAN. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOU WILL DIE IF I THROW OUT THE COMPUTER?!?! YOU ARE PART OF THE COMPUTER!!!

  (Well, Seb, looks like he meant it, hang on and I’ll start trashing the room . . .)

  I got you, eh. I wasn’t really trashing my bedroom, I was just getting some grilled cheese and Vegemite on toast and some Orangensaft.

  That’s German for orange juice.

  I’m at home from school today, on account of the flu, and I’m writing this on my new computer, which was a birthday present from my parents. Through the window I can see our frosted glass pyramid and there’s a family of little elves trying to climb the side of it. They’re wearing striped pyjamas and they have tiny suction things on their hands and feet to help them climb the glass, but they keep skidding back down and it’s SO CUTE.

  OH MY GOD.

  Our dog, Pumpernickel, just ate the elves! That is the saddest thing I ever saw.

  You’re welcome to tell me more of your dreams, especially as they are like nature lessons. That dream of yours about the kookaburra killing the snake by hitting it against a rock? That was excellent, Seb.

  Wait a minute, the paperclip man is talking to me again. (He’s sitting on my shoulder now, eating a little bowl of strawberries and cream.)

  NO, PAPERCLIP MAN! I’M SURE HE WASN’T TRYING TO THREATEN ME WITH THE DREAM ABOUT THE KOOKABURRA! HE WOULDN’T DO THAT! THAT WOULD BE CHILDISH AND STUPID! I’D NEVER WRITE BACK TO HIM!

  See you later

  Lydia

  PS You want me to make sure the alarm goes off at your school after lunch next Tuesday? I’ve got the perfect person for the job. If you need something, Seb, all you have to do is ask. PPS But you have to do something for me, too. What we’ll do is, we’ll take turns giving each other challenges and we’ll see who’s best at it. The winner will be selected to join an elite spy squad. I’ll choose the winner.

  PPPS I liked your sketch of my dog and the Breakfast Pyramid a lot. You’re a great artist.

  Dear Lydia

  Have you ever been committed?

  You are tres confusing (don’t talk to me in German, okay, I do French and you’ll mess with my mind if you put another language in there).

  Which bits of your letter are true?

  Okay, fine, Lydia, you can be a freak, it’s funny. But can you give me a sign when you’re about to tell the truth?

  I thought it was true that you wanted me to send you that stuff you wanted me to send you and I might’ve done that, you know, and I could’ve got in a whole lot of shit. And now it turns out you can get it easy at your school. Who from?

  Also, more important, I thought it was a fact that you only got a book for your birthday. Remember? You told me that story about your dad doing the 360 turn and all? That sucked bad and I felt sorry for you. Now you reckon you got a computer. That sucks too, Lyd, especially if you wanted a football table, but it doesn’t suck as bad as a book would.

  Just tell me this: that you’re serious about the school alarm. Can I trust you on that? Don’t screw me over, okay. I need that alarm to go off on Tuesday or I’m dead.

  And we can do the challenges for each other, if you mean it about that. I’m up for that.

  But you mean it, right?

  Seb

  Hey Lydia

  It’s now Tuesday morning. I was hoping for a letter of confirmation from you, but maybe it’s kicking its way over as we speak. I’m guessing you’re back at school, and not still home with the flu? So I can trust you?

  We need this plan straight through the goal posts with the goalie flying in the wrong direction. I want to hear that alarm sounding, Lyd, loud and clear as the Old Trafford crowd
in a the match against City. You with me?

  Seb

  LYDIA

  I swear to God, you might think it’s funny being deceptive and tricky and stuff but when people rely on you it’s what I call deadly serious. It’s fine for you looking all pretty there in your frosted glass but you just don’t think about people who might not have frosted glass.

  I’m just saying that there are now five minutes to period 5 here and I don’t hear any alarm bells. I’m just saying you better forget about writing to me again because you know what? You let me down. You’ve gotta be able to trust people and I thought maybe you weren’t like those other Ashbury girls because you sounded kind of wacked out. But now I think maybe you’re just like them and maybe you’re a snake. I don’t know, Lyd, I’m not saying you are.

  But you’re one of them, Lydia, that’s for sure.

  Don’t start crying or anything because it’s not like me to be upfront like this unless I’m really mad, but well done, Lydia, you’ve got me pissed. Maybe you’re still sick, but you should have let me know, okay. No offence but you’re not a team player, Lyd. You play mean is what you do. You’re the kind of player that’s always doing hand balls because you don’t want to bother hitting the ball with your head on account of it might mess up your hair. That’s rich people for you all over. People rely on you Lyd and—

  Fuck me with a frying pan.

  You did it.

  The alarm’s going off right now, Lyds baby, and I just heard an announcement made by my good buddy Charlie Taylor telling us about a gas leak. There is no gas in this school but that’s a fact that’s passed my good buddy Charlie by. Also the people around me who are tearing up to the oval like cattle on heat.