Will

by Maria Boyd

  I was wondering whether now was the time to make the move. As I made my way to the stage, I caught sight of the back of Elizabeth’s shirt walking at top speed out of the hall. It was pretty obvious that she didn’t need some guy hanging around right at this moment.

  I looked down to find the Freak waiting patiently with his lunch box in his hand. He and Brother Pat seemed to be the only two people in the hall who Waddlehead had not gotten to.

  Come on, Will! Little lunch.

  We’d been going through the same routine every rehearsal.

  Listen, Freak, by the time you get to high school you have got to start calling little lunch recess or, at the very least, play lunch. Actually, that’s just as bad. Just call it recess.

  Why? What’s the difference, it still means the same thing.

  In some way he had a point and maybe if he didn’t care then other people wouldn’t. But unfortunately that’s not how school playgrounds operated. There were so many codes you had to learn to survive your first year in high school. These codes then dictated the pecking order for the next six years or until there was a major growth spurt with a heavy shot of hormones. That was how vital it was to get it right. And persisting in calling recess little lunch showed a major lack of understanding of the code.

  I peered into the plastic Ninja Turtles lunch box. As usual it was jam-packed with everything good: a pink icing doughnut, a small packet of chips, cheese and crackers, fruit strips. You had to give his dad credit. He sure knew how to pack a lunch box.

  Man, you’ve got enough in here for the whole band.

  Zach nodded his head in agreement and with a mouthful of chips offered, Yeah, lots of people sit with me at little lunch.

  I bet. Do they come back at lunch?

  No, I normally have lunch by myself and go straight to the library. The other guys just want to play footy and I don’t want to. Here, you can have the doughnut.

  He put it in my hand, the pink icing clinging to the outer edges of my palm.

  No, I can’t have that. It must be your favorite.

  It is, but I don’t care if you have it. You’re my friend.

  The thing was, this guy was so honest. He just said what was in his head without worrying what anyone else thought. It was a hard way to live but it seemed a bit more real than the usual teenager crap. Maybe a little too real at times.

  We were sitting eating the Cohen feast when I saw Mark. He was talking and having a laugh with the other members of the cast. It seemed as though everyone liked him, the bastard. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.

  Hey, Will!

  Mark beckoned me over to join the group. I waved back and pointed to the Freak.

  Come over and meet these guys, Mark called back. Bring your mate.

  The Freak nearly wet himself with excitement.

  Come on, Will! Let’s go. Oh boy! Wait until the other guys see that I know all of the leads. Come on. They’re waiting for us.

  Zach …

  Too late. The Freak was already doing his doggy leaps over there. I could see Mark extending his hand and Zach shaking it hard. The others did the same. Zach had not shut up the whole time.

  Yeah, Will, well, he’s like my best friend in the musical. He’s the best. He says—

  Settle down, Freak.

  Everybody looked at me as if I’d said something really bad. I suppose if you call a guy who thinks that the sun shines out of your arse Freak, they might have a point. But the little guy loved it; well, at least it looked like he did, and I know he would have no problem telling me if he didn’t.

  No, that’s his nickname. You like it, don’t you, Zach?

  He nodded and continued talking to the girl who played the second lead. That kid could talk to anybody.

  Mark looked at me. Your new best mate, Will?

  The little guy needs someone to keep an eye on him. I looked over at the Freak, who was still talking. He’s all right. He’s really innocent. He doesn’t seem to care that he hasn’t got any friends.

  Yeah, that type of thing’s hard.

  I thought that maybe it had been like that for Mark. He shook his head.

  I wasn’t some type of reject, if that’s what you were thinking.

  I went to apologize but he was on a roll.

  In Years Seven and Eight I rated myself as a pretty cool footy player. The shit hit the fan in Year Nine. That’s when everything went crazy…. I spent half the year dodging fruit, bags, fists. Even dorks rated higher on the scale than faggots.

  I flinched when he said faggot; at St. Andrew’s it was one of the lowest put-downs. I was about to ask him about it when I felt someone pulling on my arm, an annoying action that could only belong to the Freak.

  Hey, listen, Freak, back off, would you …

  I turned around to tell him to shove off and instead found myself face to face with Elizabeth Zefferelli.

  Nooooooooooooooo!!!!

  I couldn’t move.

  Nothing. I had nothing.

  The most I could do was stretch my mouth into a really stupid I have the IQ of a baboon expression. I searched frantically for anything to cover up this dithering drongo act, but there was nothing there. She obviously wasn’t having the same problem. Her huge smile was teasing me.

  The last time I saw you I wasn’t looking at your face.

  I could hear the alarm bells sounding. The red of the fire billowed around my face; smoke escaped from all facial orifices.

  So you were an eyewitness …

  Uh-huh.

  She continued looking straight at me, her smile toying with me playfully. She wasn’t making this easy. In fact she looked like she was loving every second of watching me be uncomfortable. The others were just standing back watching the show.

  So, she challenged as she moved closer, do you have a name or should I just keep calling you the backside boy?

  At this point Mark laughed out loud. I tried to tell him to shut up but I couldn’t speak. After what seemed like a million minutes, I managed my name.

  Will … Will Armstrong.

  I was dying; I reached deep down, trying frantically to find some type of witty response.

  My backside is not my strongest point.

  Loser!

  Oh, I don’t know, I thought it was kind of cute.

  And with that she turned on her heel and walked away. Now, call me stupid, but I could swear that there had been some major flirtatious action happening there.

  Mark gave me the thumbs-up.

  I told you she knew your better points. Saucy, huh?

  Andrews’s voice summoned me back to the present.

  Righto, you lot. Let’s make a start.

  I was left alone with the Freak. Everyone wandered back inside. I was still trying to return to normal blood flow. I felt light, like I could take off. It didn’t matter that I had just acted like a complete loser; all that mattered was that I’d met Elizabeth and she thought I had a cute backside. I’d never been so keen to get back into the rehearsal room.

  The run

  The rest of the day was a blur of scenes, overtures, reprises, dropped lines, some spectacular and some unspectacular solos. The break was the best thing Andrews had done for me in the past two months and I bet if he knew, it would have killed him.

  I looked around the hall and all of a sudden I was there, smack bang a part of it, in a way I hadn’t been before.

  Yeah, the geeks still got to me sometimes in their annoying mosquito in your ear at midnight type of way, but they could play their instruments; the chorus girls still giggled and carried on, but they were doing the right stuff onstage and looked good. I knew how hard the leads had been working and you could see they were trying even harder after Andrews’s freak-out. The hall was full of people wanting to make this thing work.

  It was like we had all been through a really painful, exhausting, superlong training session and now we were getting ready for the semis. I suppose you could say I was happy to be a part of it. Even if I hadn’t
done as many laps around the oval as the others, today I was finally off the bench.

  It made me think of the number of people who were creative and never got to do anything with it. Because of lots of reasons: you copped crap for doing it at school, it wasn’t considered a proper job, everyone thought you were some sort of dropout or wanker and you’d never make it anyway, and if you did then they thought you were up yourself. I’d dreamt of playing for Man U for half my life and I might still have had the occasional dream where I was dressed in the red and white kit. But somehow that dream was perfectly acceptable—you were probably considered weird if you didn’t have it. That was normal, but if you wanted to get out there and be onstage, then all of a sudden to some people you were a loser.

  My attention was dragged back to the hall by the booming voice of Brother Pat.

  Right, everybody! Friday week from twelve-thirty p.m. we will have a complete dress rehearsal in front of the juniors of St. Andrew’s and Lakeside. The girls will be bused over in the afternoon.

  The geeks giggled among themselves. I looked over at them, shaking my head. As if any of them had a chance. But after the way I had carried on outside, who was I to talk?

  We will also invite the neighboring homes for the aged to watch the afternoon’s entertainment, and of course all your parents, if for any reason they cannot make the evening performances, are most welcome too.

  I won’t be telling Mum about that one, she’s already coming to both performances.

  Because we were coming back tomorrow, most of the stuff could be left out overnight. I put my guitar away in its case, glad that the dress rehearsal was only in front of the juniors. If it was the whole school it would be a different story. I could just imagine Tim and Jock revved up by the rest of the boys. I would keep hearing about it until I was a hundred.

  Will, can I see you for a moment?

  I started guiltily, wondering if Brother Pat had somehow been reading my thoughts.

  Yes, Brother.

  Now, Will, I was just saying to Mr. Andrews that I have been very impressed by your commitment and talent.

  Thanks, Brother. I eyed Andrews nervously.

  He tells me you have befriended young Cohen. Lovely boy but a bit of a loner. He seems light-years ahead of the other boys.

  Oh, I don’t know about that, Brother, he’s a—

  Now, now, none of your modesty. But that’s not why I called you over. I have a special request.

  Great!

  You do realize St. Andrew’s Day is also on Friday week, which is part of the reason why we are allowing the juniors to have a little bit of time out of class to watch our performance. The rest of the school will complain, I know, but what with the curriculum the way it is, it’s just not possible.

  Thank you, God!

  However, before the performance, we will be having our regular St. Andrew’s Day celebration for the whole school. And this year I would like you to lead the school band. It’s clear you have much to offer musically and you may as well let everybody share in your gift.

  I stared at him. Hard.

  Right, good. I’m pleased that’s settled. This will be very good for you, William. It will enable the school body to recognize your talents and see you in a totally different light. We have singing practice in the hall on Friday for the whole school. I’ll need you up the front on the stage.

  I continued staring, mute.

  No need to thank me, I can see you appreciate what I am offering you. Must be getting back. Good evening, Phil. I’ll see you tomorrow, William.

  The man was serious!

  Goodnight, Brother, Mr. Andrews called.

  I looked over accusingly at Andrews.

  Don’t look at me, Will. Brother Pat came up with that all on his own.

  I gave Andrews one of my best fake smiles, grabbed my stuff and got out of there.

  This was a prime example of what I was trying to get through the Freak’s head. It was all about not messing with the code. And singing practice and being in the band … well, it didn’t just mess with the code, it destroyed it and whoever was involved. I’d already stepped dangerously close by being in the musical, but at least it was punishment, and you weren’t on display in the pit. Singing practice meant the whole school, the teachers, the mums on tuckshop duty, the secretaries, everyone could see you.

  Yep, it was just one big public humiliation.

  Pizza?

  I came out of the hall to find Mark, the Freak and Elizabeth all waiting for me. My filthy mood lifted instantly.

  We thought you might appreciate a lift home. Zach told us your mum dropped you off this morning, so I figured you might be looking for one.

  Zach had it more sussed than I realized.

  Yeah, sure. Thanks.

  I watched Elizabeth mucking around with Zach just ahead of us. He was talking to her like he’d known her his whole life.

  Mark broke the silence.

  So what did Brother want?

  Elizabeth had stopped and waited for Mark and me to catch up.

  Have you been dropping your pants again?

  This girl had no shame.

  You wish!

  It was out of my mouth before I could take it back. There was a second’s pause and then she let out a full belly laugh and hit me on the shoulder.

  That’s a bit cheeky, isn’t it?

  The bad pun wasn’t wasted on any of us, except maybe the Freak, who was looking a little bit confused but he laughed along anyway. I forgot being embarrassed and started to feel more relaxed.

  Actually, Brother Pat was taking the time to tell me what a wonderful asset I have been to him.

  You’re full of it!

  Wait, there’s more. He thinks I’m such a fine role model that he’s asked me to play at the school liturgy and the school singing practices!

  At this point Elizabeth and Mark cracked up laughing. You see, they understood the code. The difference was they didn’t care about it. Only the Freak was looking like I’d just been named Best New Performer at the Arias.

  That’s really cool, Will! This means we get to hang out at school too!

  Mark threw in his twenty cents’ worth. Yeah, Will, that will be really cool!

  I could easily have thumped the bloke.

  Shut up, you sarcastic bastard!

  Mark bolted to his car and the Freak followed.

  Elizabeth fell back to walk beside me. Any thought of anything else but her evaporated. My body was on sensory overload. I could smell her shampoo, hear her breathing and I burned all over every time we bumped shoulders. How was it she could manage to string sentences together and I couldn’t?

  She patted me on the shoulder and spoke in a really sincere voice.

  It won’t really be that bad, Will. I think you’d look cool even playing the guitar in a school singing practice.

  I was still trying to recover from the impact of her touch. The fact that she thought I looked cool playing my guitar was way too much to handle. I finally worked up enough courage to look directly at her.

  Really?

  She laughed.

  No, not really, but it made you feel better, right?

  You … She took off across the playground and I followed. You girl!

  Good comeback, Will. I’m really offended you called me a girl!

  I cornered her out by the old chapel. It was an ancient sandstone slab that seemed permanently in the shade. The juniors carried on about it being haunted but it was more likely rats had set up home there than lost spirits.

  I moved closer toward her. And she stayed exactly where she was….

  You act all tough but I can see you’re worried.

  Her laughter bubbled out of her.

  Yeah, Will, really worried …

  I stopped one footstep away from her. Our eyes locked. The world slowed down.

  If I’d reached out my arms I could have touched her, but I didn’t. We just looked … looked at each other for what felt like the first time …
for what felt like a really long time. No grins, no playful smile, no awkward embarrassment or red faces, just us.

  I took one more small step. Elizabeth matched it with her own.

  Mark says that if you don’t get your sorry arses into the car, he’s going to leave you here and send Brother Patrick to find you.

  What?

  Will?

  I felt a familiar tugging on my sleeve. The Freak, right on cue!

  Come on, Will, I think Mark’s getting cranky.

  All right, mate, calm down.

  As I was pulling myself together I watched the Freak grab Elizabeth’s hand. He made it look so easy.

  Come on!

  Elizabeth smiled, waved and followed. I was the last one to get to the car and tried hard to appear normal.

  I thought you said she was a nice girl? I said to Mark as I jumped in the back with the Freak, who I was deliberately ignoring.

  Well, she is to me.

  Yeah, but that’s because you deserve it. I watched her reach over and pat Mark on the knee.

  Nice and sweet, that’s our Elizabeth.

  He returned the pat and I felt a small twinge in my gut. The gay guy and the Freak were doing better than me.

  I could feel the Freak’s eyes cutting into my back like lasers. I turned to face him.

  What?

  He sat there grinning at me.

  What are you smiling at?

  He was about to burst, he could barely contain himself.

  Oh, nothing!

  He kept grinning.

  Cut it out!

  Then he started to flick his head in Elizabeth’s direction, roll his eyes and burst into giggles.

  I grabbed him in a headlock and silenced him. But he was laughing so hard I had to release him so he could get his breath and then I resumed the headlock.

  Just as I was about to tell him that he was going to meet a very premature ending it dawned on me that he shouldn’t be there.