The Betrayal of Bindy Mackenzie

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The Betrayal of Bindy Mackenzie Page 5

by Jaclyn Moriarty


  Meanwhile, life here is chaotic. Auntie Veronica and Uncle Jake are great, and Bella is adorable—but that family have the vocal powers of kakapo birds!

  Auntie Veronica and I have breakfast together each day, because we both get up early, and both like pink grapefruit with a light dusting of sugar. And I’ll tell you something funny. Sometimes, Veronica will suddenly drop her spoon onto the table with a clatter, and then she will half-shout: ‘Bindy Mackenzie!’

  At this, I gasp with fright, and then I say, hesitantly: ‘Yes?’

  But she simply picks up her spoon again, shakes her head to herself and says, ‘Bindy Mackenzie at my breakfast table. How superb.’

  Uncle Jake sleeps in each day and hardly ever goes to university. He locks himself in his study with a sign on his door that says: ‘NO ENTRY’. Despite the sign, Bella wanders in all the time. And the other day I heard Jake say: ‘Bella, can’t you read?’ and Bella replied, ‘Yes, Daddy, I can read, but the words fall out of my head.’

  She’s so funny.

  She really can read, you know. And she’s only four years old. Veronica and I both think she’s ready for school, regardless of whether the words fall out of her head.

  Anyway, how are things in the city?

  I hope your ventures are succeeding beyond your wildest dreams.

  Could one of you do me a favour? I’m supposed to get permission to go on some excursions for a new course called Friendship and Development. It isn’t assessable, and I cannot see its point. I’ll scan in the relevant notes. I’d be grateful for your feedback.

  Best,

  Bindy

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Wednesday, 9.31 pm

  SUBJECT: OUT OF OFFICE AUTO-REPLY

  Cecily Mackenzie will be unable to read your e-mail until Thursday next week. If your message is urgent, please contact Cecily’s assistant, Megan, at

  [email protected]

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Wednesday, 9.55 pm

  SUBJECT: Re: Permissions . . .

  Dear Bindy,

  Hi there, yourself.

  Permissions granted, as requested.

  Best,

  Dad

  7

  My Buddy Diary

  By Bindy Mackenzie

  Wednesday, midnight

  How is the Buddy Plan working for me? Why, perfectly, thank you. I don’t know how I ever got by without it.

  Of course, the Buddy Plan only began today so it might be too early to tell. But I’m convinced my life will change for the better having Finnegan Blonde for a friend. He’s new at the school and has already made some ‘buddies’ of his own, and yet . . . something tells me he’ll rush to me whenever he needs someone to talk to. I expect us to have midnight feasts, ride on seesaws together, and tell each other our secrets. (I also expect the sky to rain silver pennies.)

  Am I being honest with my buddy? Well, today, he asked what ‘troubled’ me. I said that I excel at so many subjects I worry my talents may be diluted.

  He tried to look sympathetic, but when your eyebrows want to jump up off your forehead, there’s not much you can do to stop them.

  At least, when he asked about a ‘happy time’ for me, I told him that sometimes, when I play the piano, my little cousin comes in and dances around the living room, and shouts, ‘Keep the music! Keep the music!’ as soon as I stop playing. Finnegan’s eyebrows calmed at this. I showed him the photos of Bella which I keep on my mobile phone. Bella has a sweet, round face. She has dark hair cut into a short, shiny bob, and she always wears denim overalls: some with flowers embroidered at the knees, others with brightly coloured patches. Finnegan scrolled through the photos patiently.

  ‘And what’s going on here?’ he said, at one point.

  ‘That’s just an illusion,’ I explained. ‘My brother, Anthony, was walking down the stairs when I took the photo so it looks like he’s kicking Bella in the head. But he’s not. My brother would never do that.’

  ‘Your brother would never kick Bella in the head,’ Finnegan repeated, nodding. I noticed the mist of a smile.

  The strangest thing happened at that moment: I almost told him the secret about Anthony. It has been troubling me. But I was silent.

  When it came time to set me a ‘buddy challenge’, he told me I had to take a kickboxing class.

  The Buddy Contract

  What is your buddy’s name?

  Finnegan A. Blonde

  Ask your buddy for his/her phone number—now program the number into your mobile phone!

  What is something that troubles your buddy?

  He forgot to bring an umbrella today.

  When is a ‘happy time’ for your buddy?

  Night time,

  Ask your buddy a question of your choosing. Put the question and his/her answer here.

  I asked Finnegan how his Marks were at his old school last year, His response was as follows: ‘Last year Was not a great year.’

  Set your buddy a worthwhile challenge for the year ahead. Write the challenge here.

  I have challenged Finnegan to improve his marks this year.

  Get your buddy to add his name and signature to this declaration:

  I Finnegan A. Blonde solemnly and sincerely promise that I will always turn to my buddy when I need someone to talk to—night or day, rain or shine, thunder, lightning, or avalanche . . .

  Signed: Finnegan A. Blonde

  Now get your buddy to add his name and signature to this declaration:

  I Finnegan A. Blonde solemnly and sincerely promise that I will always be available for my buddy if he/she needs someone to talk to—night or day, rain or shine, thunder, lightning or avalanche . . .

  Signed: Finnegan A. Blonde

  63

  8

  A Memo from Bindy Mackenzie

  To: Emily Thompson

  From: Bindy Mackenzie

  Subject: Komodo Dragons

  Time: Thursday, 5.00 am

  Dear Emily,

  As you are considering joining my debating team, I thought you ought to know about our traditions!

  First, we give all team members practice debates every couple of days until the season begins. Accordingly, please prepare the affirmative argument for the following topic:

  That those who employ foul language are staining the fabric of our society.

  Please deliver your argument to me as soon as possible.

  Second, we give each of our speakers a token ‘animal’. This helps to build team spirit.

  I have decided that your token animal is the komodo dragon. You are so very similar to a komodo dragon! From now on, you must be known as Emily the Komodo Dragon.

  Some information for you to keep in mind:

  1. You are the largest lizard in the world.

  2. You are cold-blooded and vicious.

  3. You kill other animals by biting them, which gives them blood-poisoning.

  4. Why does this give them blood-poisoning? Because your mouth is full of filthy, diseased bacteria.

  I suggest you walk around the school in the style of a komodo dragon: drop to your hands and knees and slither along the corridors; stick out your tongue whenever an insect flies by; and so on. Use your imagination.

  BestWishes,

  Bindy Mackenzie

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Thursday, 5.10 am

  SUBJECT: Re: Re: Permissions . . .

  Dear Dad,

  Thanks for trying, but I’m afraid an e-mail is not enough. The school needs ‘written permission’ for extracurricular activities. More to the point, did you read the notes? What do you think of diese FAD activities? A terrible waste of time, perhaps? Let me know.

  On an unrelated matter, I have two funding application
s: first, for driving lessons (you may recall that I got my learner’s permit over the holidays); and second, for gym membership (I need to take a kickboxing class for the FAD course—see my last e-mail for details of this course). May I please use the credit card for these activities?

  Thanks and

  Best,

  Bindy

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Thursday, 5.20 am

  SUBJECT: Message for my Mother

  Dear Megan,

  Hello, how are you? I’ll never forget how much fun we had at Mum’s Office Christmas Party that time when I was seven and you brought along the Slip ’n Slide.

  Anyway, I understand my mother is out of town and I wondered if you were passing on messages to her? I e-mailed her yesterday and it would be great if she could see that e-mail (and its attachments).

  Thanks so much and best wishes,

  Bindy Mackenzie

  The Philosophical Musings of Bindy Mackenzie

  Thursday, 5.30 am

  How simple it is to right the world when it seems to fall askew! A sleepless, dreamless night gives way to a flash of inspiration: three letters. One need only write three letters to find oneself again! Three letters written and o-n-e is found! Ready for a full day of work!

  The Philosophical Musings of Bindy Mackenzie

  Thursday, 5.40 am

  And yet, how the world seems to jangle and jar when one’s head is empty of sleep.

  The Philosophical Musings of Bindy Mackenzie

  Thursday, 6.00 am

  Even if one feels exhausted and ill, and even if one’s head aches, yet to succeed one mu

  A Memo from Bindy Mackenzie

  To: Auntie Veronica

  From: Bindy

  Subject: Today

  Time: Thursday, 6.00 am

  Dear Veronica,

  This note is at the breakfast table rather than me, because I am going back to bed. I’m not feeling that great and I think I’ll have to miss school today.

  Love,

  Bindy

  Night Time Musings of Bindy Mackenzie

  Friday, 11.30 pm

  After a day of illness (yesterday), I returned to school today.

  The first thing I did was take out my memo to Emily Thompson and tape it to her locker.

  Then, at lunchtime, I happened upon Emily with her two best friends. Their names are Lydia and Cassie. The three of them were sitting with their legs stretched out before them, leaning against the wall in the lower courtyard. They like to sun themselves there.

  Allow me to digress for a moment to admit some confusion: why is a friendship flourishing between Emily and Astrid in our FAD group? Astrid is not part of Emily’s threesome! And what need has Emily for a new friend? (More than a friend now—a buddy.) What do Emily’s two best friends think of her new alliance? Does it not irk them?

  For, let me say this: the threesome of Emily, Lydia and Cassie is such a close-knit one that it breathes new life into three-related words such as:

  triplication

  trisection

  triumvirate

  In short, I cannot look at Emily and her two best friends without thinking at once of optional triangulation and its effect on the symmetry of three-dimensional quasi-crystals.

  (I mentioned this to Emily once and found her response quite cutting.)

  (You know, I once saw a pair of substitute teachers arguing about the talents of a Polish exchange student. When one lost her temper and slapped the other, I handed my card to the victim, saying: ‘I should be honoured to act as your witness.’ That teacher used precisely the same cutting words as Emily.)

  But, enough digression. Today, at least, the threesome seemed cosy as ever, despite Emily’s betrayal.

  I had a wall of schoolwork to catch up on, since yesterday had been lost, and I should have crossed directly to the library. Lunchtimes are valuable to me.

  But I could not resist.

  I had to know Emily’s response to my memo.

  So I slowed my steps slightly as I passed the reclining trinity.

  ‘Hey, Bindy?’ said one of Emily’s two friends (Lydia) just as my shadow crossed her.

  I looked at her, apprehensive.

  She put one hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. ‘Say “hi” to your mum for me, would you?’

  ‘For me too.’ Cassie smiled sleepily. (Sunshine makes the three girls drowsy.)

  ‘Your mum’s so cool,’ added Lydia, apparently without a trace of irony. She sighed and stretched her arms, much as a cat would stretch its arms, if you could picture for a moment a cat with slender brown arms.

  Here I must point out that Emily and her two best friends spent the summer at my mother’s sailing school.

  ‘How curious,’ I almost said, ‘that you three spent the summer with my mother whereas I did not.’

  But I kept my mouth closed. (So much for the new ruthless Bindy. Is she afraid of the triumvirate?)

  Emily was staring. I wondered, my heart beating wildly: Had she got my memo yet? Had it rendered her, of all people, speechless?

  But just as I myself lost courage and continued on my way, promising to say ‘hi’ to my mother (‘or at least to her assistant,’ I added—‘what?’ they said—‘nothing,’ I replied)— just as I’d passed by with that exchange, Emily said the following: ‘Bindy’

  It was a command.

  I turned.

  She held her hand out to me, and I looked at it, confused. Did she wish me to help her to her feet? So she could punch me in the nose? I would not!

  ‘See my wristband?’ she said.

  There was a strip of red paper curled around her wrist. And some kind of animal was sketched, in squiggly black ink, onto the red.

  ‘It’s a komodo dragon,’ Emily explained. (It was not.)

  ‘Is it?’ I ventured.

  ‘Yeah. I’ll do that speech thing you want me to do, the one about stain removal? I’ll do it on the weekend. But I made this as a tribute to the team. Because I am the komodo dragon.’ She assumed a hoarse, dramatic voice, and Cassie giggled. Now she touched the wristband, and Lydia leaned over and tightened it for her.

  ‘You like it?’ said Emily, holding it up towards me again.

  There was no doubt about it.

  She was proud.

  Reverie

  Reverie

  Reverie

  ANTI-CLIMAX

  9

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Monday, 9.00 am

  SUBJECT: Message for Your Mother!!

  Dear Bindy,

  Great to hear from you! Although, I have to say, I have no idea what you’re talking about—a Christmas party with a Slip ’n Slide? I have a vague memory of Christmas parties, but what’s a Slip ’n Slide? Well, I guess I’ll take your word for it . . . glad you had fun at the party.

  I’ve told your mum you’d like to speak with her. She actually does check e-mail while she’s on the road—that auto reply is just for the sake of clients—so she would have got your e-mail the other day. I’m sure you’ll hear back soon!

  Cheers,

  Megan

  Assistant to Cecily Mackenzie

  Mackenzie World Pty Ltd

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Monday, 10.30 am

  SUBJECT: Re: Re: Re: Permissions . . .

  Dear Bindy,

  If your school needs ‘written permission’ for ‘extracurricu-blahdy blah’, why don’t you just print out my previous e-mail and take that along?

  Re your funding requests: driving lessons do not fall within the terms of our agreement (required education expenses) so they’ll have to come out of your own pocket.

  Assuming gym membership is compulsory for school, that’s fine, use the credit card.

  When
can I expect your next Business Proposal?

  Best,

  Dad

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Monday, 1.00 pm

  SUBJECT The Point of Permission

  Dear Dad,

  I think the point is that we need to get your signature for permissions. A printed-out e-mail won’t suffice. Perhaps I should resend the FAD notes, so you could print them out and read them?

  At least then you’d know what you were permitting. You might even exercise your right to refuse permission! Who knows?

  With respect, I believe that a case can be made that driving lessons are directly related to my education. If I had my licence, I could drive myself to school each day, and to Kmart, babysitting and piano, thus saving time now wasted on public transport. I would therefore have more time for study, and my education would benefit accordingly.

  (Furthermore, I could drive into the city to visit you and Mum.)

  Best,

  Bindy

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Monday, 2.30 pm

  SUBJECT: Re: The Point of Permission

  Nice try, kid. But nobody likes a smart alec.

  You know you can visit your mum and me any time. Just give a shout.

  Get your Auntie Veronica or Uncle Jake to sign the permission forms for you. You have my permission to treat them as: in loco parentis.

  Best,

  Dad

  PS How’s your brother, anyway? Do I assume he lives and breathes? I never hear from him. All getting along there?

  TO: [email protected]

  FROM: [email protected]

  SENT: Monday, 3.30 pm

  SUBJECT: Hello

  Dear Mum,

  I know you’re on the road but Megan tells me you still check your e-mail. Did you get my note last week about permissions? And do you think you could talk to Dad about driving lessons? He thinks I should pay for them myself . . .

 

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