Stagefright

by Carole Wilkinson

  “And the play is just Shakespeare’s idea of what happened. And it’s wrong!”

  Velvet was digging in her bag. She pulled out another book.

  “This is a proper history book. It says there’s no proof that Richard was evil. In fact there’s plenty of evidence that he was a good king.” She pointed an accusing finger at Jesus. “It’s his fault.”

  Jesus looked up mid pushup. “Me?”

  “Richmond, the guy you’re playing. After he killed Richard and became king, he rewrote history. He said Richard had done all these terrible things. They even changed paintings of him so he looked mean. And he didn’t have a hunched back. They made it up!”

  “So what are you saying, Velvet – that we should rewrite Shakespeare?” Peter asked.

  “Yes! We could call it The True Story of Richard the Third.”

  “No way.”

  “Drago, I thought you’d be on my side at least. You’d be a hero instead of a villain.”

  “I like being a villain.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  Mr MacDonald stepped in to stop another brawl erupting. “We can’t change the script now.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what could happen in Act II. Taleb had questions to ask Velvet about the coronation song – how many harmony parts they should have, whether there should be a solo.

  “How come all the good scenes happen offstage?” Jesus said. “You know, like the one where some guy called Hastings gets his head cut off.”

  “We can’t fake a beheading on stage.”

  “Someone could bring the head to prove that the job’s been done,” Jesus suggested.

  In the end they agreed with him, just to shut him up. Drago volunteered to sculpt a head out of clay.

  After school, Velvet didn’t feel like listening to Hailie and Roula chatter on about the latest reality TV show, so she told them she had to return a library book. She waited five minutes, and then walked slowly to the railway station. She needed time to think.

  For as long as she could remember, Velvet had known exactly where her life was going. She’d had it all planned out: a successful secondary education at St Theresa’s, Law at Melbourne Uni, with perhaps a year off to travel overseas after graduating with honours. But things had changed. Now she had no idea how her life was going to turn out. If she got accepted into Endeavour High, she’d have to change schools and be the new girl all over again. Perhaps Law wasn’t the right choice for her. She’d only wanted to do it because her Aunt Evelyn was a lawyer. Velvet admired her single-woman lifestyle: nice apartment, lovely clothes, overseas trips every year. Travel was definitely out of the question for Velvet now that her parents wouldn’t be paying for it. And then there were her feelings for Taleb, which she still hadn’t got used to. Distracting emotions had never featured in her imagined future. Her life had become complicated.

  It was the distracting emotions that she had to deal with first though, as Taleb rode up, got off his bike and started to walk along side her.

  “You had a lot to say this afternoon,” he said. “Not that that’s unusual.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair that Richard’s been made into such a bad guy.”

  “It’s only a school play. It’s hardly going to change the world.”

  “I suppose not, but if there was just something that we could do to help put the facts straight.”

  Taleb smiled at her.

  “What?”

  “You take everything way too seriously.”

  She wasn’t about to admit to Taleb that the play was pretty much the most important thing in her life at that moment.

  “You take your music seriously.”

  “I guess so.”

  They had reached the railway station. Taleb got on his bike. “See you tomorrow at band practice.”

  He rode off and Velvet walked up to the station and sat down. She was immediately pounced on by Hailie and Roula who had been watching from behind a billboard.

  “Did he ask you out?”

  “No!”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing. Just stuff about the play.”

  The train arrived.

  “I think he likes you.”

  “He does not.” Velvet got onto the train. “What makes you say that?”

  “He smiled at you,” Hailie said. “I’ve never seen Taleb smile before.”

  CHAPTER 17

  On the last day of term, Mr MacDonald strode into T6 looking very pleased with himself. “I’ve got an announcement to make.”

  “You’re not going to re-cast the play, are you?” Velvet asked.

  “No.”

  “Have you been transferred to a proper school?” Peter asked.

  “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’ve won Tattslotto and you don’t have to teach anymore?” Drago said.

  “You’re miles off. It’s to do with the play.”

  “Hailie’s decided not to sing?”

  “That’s not funny, Jesus.”

  “Come on, sir. We give up.”

  “I’ve got some money for costumes.” Mr MacDonald grinned from ear to ear. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “Yeah, how much?”

  “A hundred and fifty dollars.”

  “Wow. Where did you get it from?”

  “School funds.”

  “You mean Slinky gave us a hundred and fifty bucks?”

  “Not willingly. He tried to tell me there were no funds allocated to cultural studies, but Mrs Mangalis looked it up in the budget. He couldn’t deny it then.”

  “Yay, Mrs Mangalis.”

  “So, this afternoon I thought we’d go on a little excursion.”

  “Seriously?” Roula’s interest in the play suddenly increased.

  “We don’t have to watch a real Shakespeare play, do we?”

  “No, Jesus.”

  “What then?”

  “I thought we could go and check out the costume hire place.”

  “Cool.”

  “Do we get to bring stuff home?”

  “No. It’s still four months till the play. We’re just going to decide on the general look of it. I thought it would inspire you.”

  “Don’t we have to have one of those forms that says our parents consent to heart surgery and amputation before we can go?” Peter asked.

  “You all filled in a general consent form at the beginning of the year to cover short unscheduled excursions.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  They were almost at the gate when Miss Ryan ran up behind them.

  “You’re not thinking of taking these students out of the grounds are you, Mr MacDonald?”

  “It’s all right, Elise. Just a short excursion.”

  Mr MacDonald’s attempt at being charming was unsuccessful.

  “But you haven’t recorded it in the journal. There could be insurance problems if it’s not properly documented.”

  Everyone was starting to get restless.

  “Trust her to screw it up,” Drago muttered.

  It was Peter’s turn to be charming. “You should come with us, Miss Ryan. We’re going to choose costumes. We were just about to ask if you’d like to be costume mistress. Weren’t we?”

  Velvet nodded and tried to look enthusiastic. “Yes. I told everybody you were interested and they were … thrilled.”

  The rest of them looked horrified.

  “Oh, I’d love to come with you, but I’m refereeing the girls’ soccer match.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Peter. “But don’t worry, Velvet will do a report for you.”

  They left Miss Ryan at the gate. She appeared to have forgotten all about school procedures.

  They caught a train into the city. Jesus did gymnastics hanging from two straps and no one watched him. Peter stared out of the window, ignoring two girls who were trying to chat him up. Hailie and Roula sang pop songs. Taleb sat next to Velvet, but she couldn’t think of a single thing to
say to him. Drago got out at every station and waited till the last second to get back on again. Mei giggled. Mr MacDonald sat in a far corner pretending he wasn’t with them.

  Hailie’s bag looked unusually full. Normally she didn’t take any books home from school.

  “What’s in your bag, Hailie?”

  Hailie dug into her bag and pulled out a pair of ugly yellow platform-soled shoes made of fake patent leather. The heels were worn down, the toes scuffed.

  “I’ve got to take these to the mender’s for my mum.” She stuffed them back in her bag. “Don’t let me forget, or she’ll kill me.”

  The costume shop was up a flight of stairs above a Chinese herbalist in Little Bourke Street. It was like every kid’s dress-up dream come true. It was big enough to get lost in. There were racks and racks of colourful costumes. Hailie and Roula squealed at every new sequinned, bejewelled ensemble. There were cancan skirts, feather boas and peasant blouses; spacesuits, wizards cloaks and clown costumes. More racks hung from the ceiling, out of reach.

  Mr MacDonald wandered around trying to keep track of them all and reassuring the sales assistant that they weren’t going to wreck anything. Velvet discovered a whole rack of medieval gowns and the girls spent three-quarters of an hour deciding which they wanted. Velvet chose a maroon dress with big sleeves that almost reached the ground. Hailie chose one with a low cut, laced bodice. Mei found a gaudy orange gown covered in frills. For Roula they selected a simple black velvet dress suitable for Richard’s grieving mother.

  The boys were more interested in alien masks and a suit of plastic armour, until Velvet spotted the doublets on one of the higher racks. The shop assistant hooked them down with a long pole. Drago tried on a green velvet one with gold braid and purple satin inserts. He found a jewelled crown and strode up and down the aisles reciting his lines. They managed to get a schools’ discount, but even at thirty dollars per outfit they’d already gone over budget. They took photos with their phones. Drago had to have the crown prised out of his hands before they could leave.

  It was the end of term, so they decided to forget about going back to school and go home from the city. Velvet had thought of several things she could talk to Taleb about on the train, but he had Toxic Shock practice and scurried off to jump on a tram before she had the chance to begin a conversation. Mr MacDonald told the others they had to go straight home. They walked towards the railway station until he was out of sight and then turned back.

  Velvet was confused. “Where are you going?”

  “You didn’t think we were really going straight home did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seriously. You’re such a try-hard, Velvet.”

  Velvet hesitated for a moment before following them.

  Jesus headed off to the skateboard park near the river. Mei went to her family’s business in Spencer Street. Peter wanted to go to a games arcade. Drago went with him.

  The first thing Hailie did was find the ladies’ toilets. “I’m going to change.”

  Roula and Velvet followed her in. Hailie took off her school dress.

  Hailie’s mother couldn’t afford to buy her a winter uniform, so she was wearing bike shorts and a long-sleeved spencer underneath to keep warm.

  “You can’t go out in public looking like that, Hailie,” Velvet said. “You’re practically in your underwear.”

  Hailie ignored Velvet, stuffed her uniform into her bag and put on a short denim jacket (confiscated by Miss Ryan two weeks earlier and only just returned to her that day). Then she disappeared into one of the toilets to check if her period had started.

  Roula was applying hair product to her purple-streaked hair, making it stick out in all directions.

  “You need to do something with your hair, Velvet.”

  Before Velvet could explain that her hair was fine the way it was, Roula had ripped off Velvet’s hair-tie and was smearing hair product all over her hair. Then she scrunched it with her hands. Velvet saw herself in the mirror. She looked like she’d forgotten to comb her hair for a week.

  Hailie came out of the toilets.

  “That looks great, Velvet. You look almost normal.”

  She pulled out the platform-soled shoes.

  “You’re not going to wear your mum’s shoes?” Even Roula was shocked.

  “Why not?”

  Hailie stepped into the shoes. They had heels almost twenty centimetres high. She picked up a lipstick that was on the hand basin and quickly smeared some on her lips before the owner came out of the toilet. She tied her hair in a high ponytail. Velvet couldn’t help thinking that if Hailie was as resourceful with her school assignments she’d get straight As.

  Hailie ignored her and tottered out into the street.

  “And you’ll freeze to death.”

  Roula hesitated, then went after Hailie. “Better keep an eye on her.”

  Velvet followed them. “But where are we going?”

  They tried on clothes in the Myer basement until the shop assistant barred them from going into the change rooms. Then they went to the skateboard park to watch Jesus. The rest of the boys there were doing jumps and slides, and falling over, but Jesus was swooping gracefully up and down the curves of the bowl on a borrowed board. Skateboarding was one of the few physical activities he could still do.

  “Let’s find the other boys.” Hailie pulled out her phone.

  Peter and Drago were in a games arcade, deeply involved in noisy and violent combat games like the ones Peter played on his phone, but bigger and louder. It was a grungy place, and they were the only people there. Roula talked Velvet into trying a game that involved dancing.

  Hailie stood next to Peter, offering encouragement and advice. Peter ignored her. After about half an hour watching Peter splatter aliens, Hailie had had enough.

  “My feet hurt,” she said. “Let’s go to the Hungry Jack’s next door.”

  Hailie and Roula ordered fries and a chocolate sundae. Velvet bought a bottle of water. They sat at a table next to two boys who looked like they were on day release from juvenile detention.

  “I’ve given up on Peter,” Hailie said crossly, taking off her denim jacket and leaning forwards on one elbow so the boys at the next table could see down her top.

  Velvet watched their heads turn. “Hailie!”

  “I don’t understand why he’s never had a girlfriend,” Roula said.

  “You don’t think he’s gay do you?” said Hailie.

  “Possible, I suppose.”

  “Hey, how come he gets out of sport?” Roula said. “Drago and Taleb have got asthma, Jesus’s got a bung knee, Hailie’s got her ankle, I’ve got a rare heart condition. What’s wrong with Peter?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Velvet. She just scammed Slinky.”

  “But Peter’s not sneaky like she is,” said Roula. “Maybe it’s his hormones. He might be, like, changing sex.”

  “Get real, Roula.”

  “No, there was this boy who lived in my grandma’s village in Greece. His name was Georgios. He disappeared for a couple of years and when he came back he had plaits and his name was Georgia. Seriously.”

  The two boys in leather jackets came over, one blond and good-looking, the other with a nasty case of acne. They sat on either side of Hailie, ignoring Roula and Velvet. Hailie was soon chatting with them like they were old friends, laughing at their sleazy jokes and telling them her life story.

  They bought her a coke, offered her cigarettes.

  “Wanna go to a bar?” said the blond one.

  “Sure,” said Hailie.

  It was starting to get dark outside.

  “I have to go,” Roula said. “I’ll get grounded if I’m not home by six.”

  Roula caught a tram. Velvet didn’t like the idea of leaving Hailie by herself, but she had to go home too. She went back to the games arcade to tell Drago and Peter to keep an eye on her, but they’d already left.

  Velvet was halfway to the train station when she rem
embered that Hailie hadn’t taken her mother’s shoes to the menders. She hurried back. She was just in time to see Hailie teetering on her heels as she walked into a laneway holding hands with the blond boy. The other boy followed them. Velvet started running. By the time she got to the corner of the laneway, the boy had grabbed Hailie’s bag.

  “Hey!” Velvet yelled.

  The boys turned, but when they saw it was just Velvet, they laughed. Hailie reached out to grab her bag back, but one of her heels got stuck between the cobblestones. Velvet winced as she watched Hailie’s ankle turn and heard her scream as she fell. The pimply boy walked toward Velvet.

  “Get lost, little girl.”

  Velvet didn’t move. She took out her phone. She could still only use voice commands. “Cómo puedo ayudarle?” said a female voice.

  “Help!” Velvet shouted into the phone. “Someone’s robbing us!”

  “He enviado el mensaje de texto,” the phone replied.

  “Stupid phone!”

  “I’ll have that.” The pimply boy snatched the phone from Velvet’s hand.

  She yelled for help, but the passing commuters took no notice.

  “Oh, God,” Hailie screamed, holding her ankle.

  “No good talking to God, sweetheart. He can’t hear you.”

  The blond boy emptied Hailie’s bag onto the cobblestones and took her phone and wallet.

  Velvet needed to protect herself. She picked up something long and thin and hit the boy with it. He laughed as her weapon crumpled. It was a stale breadstick.

  “Jesus!” said Velvet.

  “Are you two religious or something?” The boy laughed. “Jesus isn’t going to help you either.”

  “Yes, he is,” said a voice behind them.

  The two thugs spun round to see where the voice was coming from. They both yelped when they saw a tall, dark figure surrounded by a halo of light.

  Jesus Mbele stepped out of the lamplight and strode towards them, taking off his hoodie. The muscles of his bare black arms glinted. The two thugs froze like taggers in a cop’s torch beam. Jesus grabbed the blond one under the arms and threw him into a skip as if he was a toy. Velvet had found a more effective weapon – a milk crate. She hit the pimply boy with it until he dropped her phone.

  The strains of Julie Andrews singing “My Favourite Things” came from the phone. As Velvet bent to pick it up, the boy started to run, but Jesus took two strides and tackled him into a pile of green garbage bags spewing leftover fast food. Jesus then went over to the blond boy who, in his haste to climb out of the skip, had fallen and lay on the cobblestones whimpering like a child.