The sun’s up but the beach still looks grey. I sit on the sand and stare out at the waves, thinking. I shiver. I don’t know how it happens, but Grandad is next to me. He’s wearing his blue flannel checked shirt and khaki work pants, holding the ring spanner. The twelve-point one. ‘You’re going to be thirteen soon. It’s a big birthday. What do you want?’
It’s hard to breathe. ‘I want you to be here, Grandad.’
‘I’m here. We’re a team. I’m always here for you, Jack.’
I nod my head. ‘And Dad’s gone too. I’ve asked Mum. She won’t talk about him. Why’d he go?’
Grandad doesn’t say anything for a long time. I feel his arm on my shoulder. ‘The answers are there. But you have to decide when you want to find them.’
We sit there watching the waves crash and roll onto the sand.
I wander into the kitchen and pick up an apple.
Mum points to the clock. ‘You’re late. Did you deliver more newspapers this morning?’
‘Yeah, Mum.’
‘I’ve got breakfast for you. And can we talk about your birthday? We can have it on your actual birthday. But you need to send out the invitations soon.’
‘Can we talk about it later?’
Mum’s voice follows me down the hallway. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Great, Mum. Great.’ I shut my bedroom door, get onto my computer. I bring up my to-do ideas list:
1.Birthday
2.Soundboard
3.Photos of game for newsletter
4.Footy game film clip
5.Surf
6.Leo staying
7.Ethics homework
8.Grandad
I draw a line through number three since I’ve given the photos to Mr Angelou already. I add:
9.Father
A joke flashes into my head. ‘Why is six afraid of seven?’ Then I laugh. ‘Because seven eight nine.’ ‘Eight, ate . . . nine.’ I can’t stop laughing, laughing, until I’m rolling on the floor. Until I’m lying on the floor. Until I don’t move. Until I just lie there thinking. I pull myself up, check out my photo wall. Look at Grandad, then the picture in the bottom corner. I go back to my computer and type the question: How do I find my father?
Rob’s acting strange again because Leo’s coming down for the weekend. He polished his van for hours. You need blinkers to get near it. He bought a surfboard for Leo ages ago and waxed it until now it has perfect grip. It’s in the shed right next to my very old board. I really need to give it a wax.
There’s a pile of new T-shirts and boardshorts for Leo on the fold-up bed in my room. Rob did buy me one T-shirt. I admit that I like it. Scrawled across it is Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity: E=mc2—Albert Einstein. He’s my science hero. Rob bought Mum and Samantha matching rainbow scarves. They both love them.
Toot. Toot. The yellow van rocks into the driveway and Mum dances to the front door. She’s so much better now. Her surgery doesn’t hurt her any more. ‘They’re here,’ she sings.
Ollie’s woofing. Nanna waddles out. Samantha races down the hallway. Puppy tumbles after her through the super dog-flap door. Puss is on the window ledge looking out. Rob stands beside the van with his hand on Leo’s shoulder. I get this lump in my throat.
‘Leo’s here. So, is dinner ready?’ Rob whistles.
Mum’s smile crumples. ‘But I worked today and I thought you’d—’
Rob laughs and produces a huge tub of roast chicken from the van. ‘Here’s dinner, babe.’
Leo holds up an enormous bag of hot potato wedges.
‘Oh! And I’ve made the salads,’ Mum pipes up.
Nanna grins. ‘I’ve got dessert. Cream buns for everyone.’
Dinner’s a feast, but quick. Tonight is movie night. Boys’ pick, but girls welcome. Seven o’clock on the dot, there’s a knock-knock on the door. It’s Mr Napoli dropping off Anna. She’s carrying a supersized bowl of berries of all sorts. It’s an Italian thing. You can’t visit unless you bring food. A lot of it. Since I love berries, it’s working out pretty well.
‘Hello, Jack,’ Mr Napoli bellows through the front door. Wow, is he red-faced and excited.
Anna slips inside with the berries. Rob waves from the kitchen sink. He’s on serious washing-up duty. Mr Napoli calls out, ‘Hello, Rob.’ Robs waves but can’t leave the sink.
Mr Napoli hardly takes time to kiss Mum on both cheeks before he gets into it. ‘Anna. Anna. She’s made us very proud. The school picked her slogan for their charity project with Room to Read. It’ll be in the newsletters and on all the posters.’
‘Jack told me.’ Mum’s nearly as excited as Mr Napoli.
Anna isn’t excited. ‘Dad.’ She’s at the door again, seriously giving dagger-looks, ‘Please, no more showing off, Dad.’
‘A father needs to show off. Anna’s slogan is: “Every Kid Deserves to Read”. They interviewed her on the radio.’
‘I heard it.’ Mum beams. ‘She was wonderful.’
‘Yes. She is wonderful. I am so—’
‘Dad. Go now. Go.’
‘A father can be proud.’ He double-kisses Anna as she shoves him towards his car.
Anna shakes her head. ‘He’s so embarrassing.’
‘Hey, don’t worry. He’s your dad.’
Anna’s lucky. I like Mr Napoli. I grab her hand and pull her into the lounge room. ‘Movie night.’
She plonks herself down between Samantha and Puppy. Ollie’s at their feet. The berries are on the coffee table. Nanna’s popping corn. ‘Nearly ready,’ she shouts.
‘Drinks. What do you want?’ Mum’s got a new juicer. ‘Celery juice, or beetroot and carrot juice, or watermelon juice? Choose your poison.’
Mum’s right about the poison. We all call out, ‘Watermelon.’
‘Down with celery juice,’ I yell.
‘Don’t yell, Jack. And celery juice is good for you.’
‘Reeeeeeeally good, if you’re a rabbit.’
Mum’s getting flustered, but when we all burst out laughing, she can’t help laughing as well. ‘Maybe watermelon for me too, this time.’
‘Stop mucking about,’ Rob calls out. ‘Movie time.’
I drag two beanbags in front of the TV. Leo dives into one and I dive into the other.
‘Come on, babe. Sit down. We’re ready.’ Rob holds up The Endless Summer. He becomes serious and the lecture starts. ‘Before we watch this classic, you need some background information. Chasing the waves around the world. Sun, surf, freedom. Following Californian longboarders Mike Hynson and Robert August—’
‘Put it on, Rob. Let’s see it.’
‘But, Jack, this is a film classic . . .’ Rob scratches his prickly head and continues.
I can’t take it. I grab a cushion and aim. Rob ducks as it torpedoes towards him. He yells. ‘JACK!’
‘It wasn’t me.’ Rob turns around and there’s Mum giggling with a second cushion.
‘You! But—’ The cushion flies towards Rob. He ducks.
We’re all laughing, Leo pipes up. ‘Let’s see the movie, Dad.’
‘Yeah, Dad. Let’s see it.’ Oh, I can’t believe it. I didn’t mean to call Rob ‘Dad’. Why did I do that? Hope no one noticed. Think fast. I chuck another cushion at Rob. Leo copies. Anna does a lollypop throw then winks at me. I can’t believe it. She knows. She knows about the cricket match. Cushions are flying, dogs are woofing and Puss is looking on as if to say, Are they nuts?
‘I give up. Give up.’ Rob’s smothered in cushions. You can only see his hands flapping. ‘I’m getting up. Just hold on.’ He presses play. The Endless Summer rolls onto the screen with endless waves, endless tubes, the endless summer.
‘I ate too much popcorn.’ Leo holds his stomach, groaning as he checks out my photo wall. I made sure a couple of photos of him with Rob are pinned up. There’re plenty of other photos of Rob too—blowing up the barbecue, Rob and Mum when she was in hospital, Rob in the van with me. ‘You do a lot with my dad. I don’t get to see him th
at much.’ Leo gets into the fold-up bed and stares at my photo wall. ‘Great pictures.’
I get this sad feeling for Leo. I like my home. Rob’s not my dad, but he’s here. I stammer, ‘Maybe you can visit some more. My birthday’s soon. Want to come to my party?’
Leo waits. Nods. ‘Yeah, that’d be good.’
I get into my bed. ‘Surfing tomorrow.’
‘Like surfing.’ Leo looks at me with a challenge. ‘With my dad.’
‘Rob likes surfing.’ I press my lips together. ‘With you. He talks about you a lot.’ I wait. ‘Your dad misses you, Leo.’
Leo gulps. ‘Yeah. Me too.’
I switch off the bedside light and look out of the window. The night’s calm. The moon’s getting bigger. Leo’s breathing is deep and regular. I listen to him. I’m going to find my dad. I shut my eyes.
Chapter 11
Bags Can Fly
Had a great day surfing. Heaps of guys and girls out there. Took a crazy video of Rob getting hammered by a monster wave. He came out spluttering but trying to be cool. ‘Just testing out the wave. It won that time. Ha, ha.’ I had some wipeouts myself. It was a big surf today.
Anna and Maggie turned up with drinks and sandwiches. I didn’t even know they were coming to the beach—and we were thirsty and starving. Rob said they’re angels. Anna smiled, shaking her head, ‘I don’t think so.’ But she is, you know. An angel. Got some great shots of the girls and one of Leo looking dopey at Maggie. I reckon he likes Maggie.
Sunday night. I can tell Leo doesn’t want to go back north. He’s so slow packing up and keeps looking at my photo wall. ‘Hey, I’ll send you photos.’ I grin. ‘There’s some good ones of Maggie.’
Leo prickles. ‘What do ya mean?’
‘Nothing. But I’ll send you some of Maggie anyway.’
Rob shouts, ‘Leo, we’ve got to go. The train won’t wait.’
Leo grabs his backpack and heads for the car with Rob. Team family—Mum, Nanna, Samantha, Ollie and Puppy and even Puss—pile onto the porch to say goodbye. Leo sticks his head out of the window and waves.
I call out, ‘See you for my birthday party.’
Mum puts her arm through mine. ‘It means a lot to me that you boys get on. To Rob too. So Leo’s coming to your party?’
My head thumps. I’m glad Mum’s happy, but I don’t want her to say anything. I don’t know what I feel.
It’s late. Everyone’s asleep except me: I can’t. My mind is all over the place. I keep thinking about Rob. Why’d I call him Dad? I need to find my dad. Hey, Anna knew I dropped the ball for her at the game. She wasn’t even angry and she could have been. She really stands up for fair play. Suddenly the scrum zigzags into my head. Fair play. That wasn’t fair. What am I supposed to do? I sit up in my bed. I am so awake. The game. I can’t sleep. Might as well do some editing.
I grab my laptop, soundboard and flash drive, creak open my bedroom door and pad down the hallway, through the back door onto the verandah. The dog flap swings and bangs. I lurch down to stop it. Don’t want to wake up Ollie and Puppy. That’d be a disaster. I run across the driveway to the shed and knock into Rob’s punching bag. It nearly takes me out. Phew: somehow I get inside the shed without waking anyone up. I switch on the light. The place is looking pretty good after the clean-up. I put my soundboard on my bench, plug in my laptop and set up.
I turn on my computer. There’s a lot of footage and a lot of editing to do. But I’ve got to think what I want to do with it. Anyway, speakers first. I like the night, when it’s quiet. When everyone’s asleep and it’s just me working. I’m listening to some of the soundtracks when I nearly hit the roof.
Mum’s voice comes out of nowhere. ‘It’s late. Why are you here? What are you doing, Jack?’
I look up at Mum. ‘Mu-ummmmmm . . . what are you wearing? That snapdragon. Is it blood-sucking?’
‘Ha, ha.’ Mum flips the end of her nightie around her legs. The orange snapdragon looks like it’s eating her knees. ‘Don’t you like my new nightie, darling?’
‘No, Mum, and don’t call me darling.’
She laughs and looks over my shoulder. I shut down the screen just as Coach’s voice spruiks—‘George: now. Now! Kill ’em. Kill ’em.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing. It’s just an assignment. Just want to get a head start. I’m doing some work on it with Christopher tomorrow after school before Strategy Day.’
‘Tomorrow’s the start of a new week. You’ll be tired for your paper run.’
‘Won’t be long. Hey, you go to bed, Mum.’ She looks unsure. ‘I’ll be in soon.’
‘Promise?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Soon.’
‘Love you, Jack.’
‘Same to you.’ I wait until Mum leaves, and check that she doesn’t pop back in. She’s gone. It’s safe to get to work again. I look at the footage. Stop, rewind. Play. I don’t know what to put in. Should I put everything in? That’s the game. Hawkie’s nose was smashed. No one tells. Hawkie’s too scared. He’d lose his mates. Maybe worse. Christopher didn’t see inside the scrum. I guess I should show him all the footage. See what he thinks.
Monday morning. Mrs Napoli rings. Rob answers, puts her on speaker so we can all hear. ‘The electricity went out on some of our fridges. Anna has to help empty the goods. She’ll be late and we can’t give her a lift. We need to clean up and wait for the electricity company. Can you take Anna to school?’
‘No worries,’ Rob says. ‘Might as well give everyone a ride.’
I get in the back seat as usual. Anna jumps in next to me. ‘The fridges are leaking everywhere.’
‘Is the shop OK now?’
‘Under control.’ She clicks in her seatbelt. ‘Hey, Jack, heard you’re having a birthday party?’
‘Who told you, Anna?’ I tap Samantha on the shoulder.
The guilty party looks around. ‘I told.’ She flicks her ponytail at me.
‘Am I invited?’ Anna’s voice tinkles.
‘No, never.’ I try to keep a serious face.
‘So what time, date and what kind of party is it?’
‘Three weeks on Saturday. My backyard. Six o’clock.’ Pretending to be on a wave, I hold out my arms. ‘A surfing party. Hawaiian shirts, pineapples, The Endless Summer on a video loop. It’ll be endless.’
Rob interrupts. ‘This is all the result of having a great stepdad.’ He laughs. ‘Jack, we could wear matching Hawaiian shirts. Red hibiscus.’
‘Great idea, Rob. It’d really improve my image. We’d be the original Hawaiian Nerd Squad.’
Anna ignores us. It’s all about the party. ‘Want some help?’
‘Yes please. A lot of it.’
‘I’ll help too,’ Samantha pipes up.
‘Great. So, this Saturday, I’ll be over and we can get the invitations done. So much to do.’
‘Huh?’ Anna’s so organised. What is there to do? Rob’s laughing. I hit the back of his seat. ‘OK, it’s a plan.’
Rob drops us off. Kids point and yell out at his van. He loves it and toots his horn. He’s becoming the coolest stepdad at school. Samantha runs off to her friends. Anna runs over to Maggie. I can hear her. She’s talking about my birthday. I roll my eyes. Got to find Christopher. Need to ask him about the film. Where is he? I spot him coming out of the toilet block. Then he starts prowling under benches. I shout out and growl. ‘Found a tiger yet?’
Christopher doesn’t even hear me. I race up and nudge him. ‘What’re you doing?’
His face is panicky. ‘My bag’s gone.’
‘Where’d you leave it?’
‘Just outside. Here. A minute ago.’
‘Maybe someone’s picked up it by accident? They all look the same.’
‘Yeah, but mine has my name on it and a Navy tag.’
‘Navy as in ships? Or blue?’
‘Ships,’ Christopher grunts as he crawls under another bench.
‘Why do you have a Navy tag?’
�
��Jack . . . What does it matter? I got it when the Navy ships were in. I need to find my bag.’
Oh, I didn’t know Christopher liked the Navy. I’d like to have a look inside a ship. ‘Christopher?’
‘Yeeeesssss.’ Christopher’s voice is shaky.
I think I’ll ask him later about the Navy ships. I scout around the outside of the hall. But no bag. ‘Let’s see if it’s been handed in at the office.’
Christopher keeps looking at everyone’s bags as we cross the playground. Winger’s spinning a ball to Hawkie, who’s gasping for air under his bandages. I figure he doesn’t want to play. He should stand up for himself. Guess it’s easier to say than do. Winger sees us and starts laughing. Don’t know what’s so funny.
We go inside to the school office.
‘No one’s reported a missing bag.’ The secretary takes a note. ‘If it’s handed in I’ll get it announced.’ She turns away to talk to a parent.
‘But it’s got my homework in it.’ Christopher sounds desperate, but the secretary isn’t listening.
‘Hey, it’ll show up, Christopher. Don’t worry.’
Everyone’s already in their seats when we get to class. Mr Angelou’s annoyed. ‘Why are you boys late?’ He doesn’t wait for an answer. ‘We’ve got a lot of work to do. Get your homework out.’
I scramble through my bag, push aside my camera and drag out my homework. Lucky I’ve done it. Shoving it towards Christopher, I nudge him. ‘Let’s share. My turn for a change.’ He’s tapping the desk nervously. ‘Hey, we’ll find your bag. It’s got to be around.’
I hear Winger smirking. George Hamel and Hawkie are nudging each other and staring out the window behind Mr Angelou. Becky splutters. ‘Flying bag.’ I look through the window. Christopher sees it too and gulps. The Navy tag. His bag is swinging at half-mast from the flagpole. There’re laughs coming from the back. Mr Angelou spins, glares around the class. He’s furious. ‘Quiet. Do your work now.’
Being Jack Page 5