It was a relatively nice day too, for a Melbourne winter. It was pretty good weather for a picnic. There were a number of people who’d had the same idea.
“I’ll have to remember this place,” I added.
“There are bike paths that lead from here. They go pretty much all the way to your house,” Sarah explained.
“That would be an interesting ride.”
“Yeah.” Sarah nodded. “Some bits are quite pretty”.
“How’re you doing anyways, buddy?” Tony drawled as he placed another plate of mostly burnt food on the table and threw himself onto the bench beside me.
I nodded agreeably and began to search for a sausage that wasn’t too badly burned. I eventually selected one and threw it swiftly into a curled up slice of bread. It was still slightly burnt, but I expected that.
“How was working with your brother?” I asked between mouthfuls.
“Pretty much sucked,” Tony grumbled. “The bastard sent me to get a box of sparks on the second day.”
“A box of sparks?” I grunted, “just how stupid does he think you are?”
“Showed him though,” Tony continued.
“How?”
“Well, I took several hours getting them and then when I returned I said that they were all out of sparks at the corner shop.” Tony grinned.
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Only problem was,” Tony said, “he’d actually asked me to get a box of spark plugs.”
“Oh.” I grinned. “That’s not good.”
“No, it kind of put a downer on the rest of the week to be honest.” Tony chuckled.
“At least he didn’t ask you to get a left-handed screw driver,” Tina interjected. “That’s one of the classics isn’t it?”
“No, well, they tried that one on the first day,” Tony grumbled, “which was why I thought the box of spark plugs was a joke.”
“What did you do?” Tina laughed.
“Just handed them a normal screw driver,” Tony replied, straight-faced.
“Oh?” I asked in a raised tone. I was pretty sure I knew where this was going.
“They complained, mind you. They said it wasn’t a left-handed screwdriver,” Tony continued, but I could tell he was having trouble keeping it together though. There was a slight twitch on the corner of his mouth.
“So I…” Tony began.
“…told them to turn it the other way,” we both finished in unison.
Tina and Sarah both rolled their eyes.
“What? You’ve heard that one before?” Tony exclaimed in mock outrage.
“Did that really happen?” Tina asked. “Or is there a book of bad jokes that you guys both have?”
“There’s a book,” I confessed.
“No, it didn’t happen, I actually had a lot of fun,” Tony continued, ignoring my comment. “I think I might become a mechanic when I grow up.”
“If you grow up.” I grinned.
“I can’t believe it’s school tomorrow,” Garry groaned.
“Please don’t remind me,” I grumbled.
“Well, cheer up. School’s more than half over!” Sarah commented.
“Exactly half,” Tina corrected.
“Not if you count the holidays.”
“Who counts the holidays as school?” Garry argued.
“Well, aren’t we ‘Mr glass is half empty’ today,” Sarah mocked.
“You’re the kind of person who claims that the week is half over Wednesday morning?” Garry shot back.
“Yep,” Sarah agreed readily.
“That’s stupid!” Tina interjected. “Wednesday night maybe.”
“No, no,” I argued back. “I can see her point, the worst part of school is getting up early. So therefore by school time on Wednesday morning you’ve already gotten up three times so the worst is over. It’s only two more times you need to do it before you can sleep in again,” I continued.
“I knew I liked you for some reason.” Sarah grinned. She was obviously grateful for the support.
“What? That doesn’t make any sense!” Garry snapped. This led into a more ridiculous argument. It got so silly that I got to my feet and wandered over towards the drinks at the other end of the table. Sarah joined me several seconds later.
“That’s not nice, you know.” I smiled at her.
“What?”
“Starting an argument like that and then legging it and leaving them to it.”
“Hey, you’re just as guilty of that as I am,” she commented. “And besides, Garry started it.”
We both turned to observe the argument.
“You’ve got to love Tony.” I grinned. ”It’s nice how he can take an argument like that and just run with it.”
Tony had obviously taken up Sarah’s cause in her absence and was vehemently arguing her case.
Tony was pretty renowned for doing that. He also commonly argued long past the point that he’d already lost the argument. It didn’t seem to faze him much and he never seemed to have any hard feelings about it when he inevitably did concede defeat. You really did have to admire him for that.
“Yeah, he’s really sweet.” Sarah smiled. “How are you doing anyway?”
“I’m good.”
“I’m sorry about – going off at you the other day, you know,” Sarah began.
“No,” I said, “you were right. I could have handled it much, much better.”
“Still,” Sarah said, “you never did actually give me a reason.”
I thought of Renee. “It just didn’t feel right. Can we leave it at that?”
“Well, I suppose so,” Sarah reflected sadly. “I just wish I understood. I was the one who suggested to Tina that she go after you and now I feel kind of bad.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know that, but in hindsight it wasn’t too surprising. Sarah did love playing matchmaker.
“You’re sure it’s not that girl? Renee?” Sarah asked about as subtly as a brick.
“I really don’t know what’s going on there.”
“But would you like something to be going on there?” Sarah prompted.
“I don’t know.” I reflected as I thought about it some more. “Maybe, kind of… yeah.”
“Maybe, kind of, yeah?” Sarah grinned with a raised eyebrow.
“She kind of scares me,” I confessed.
“Scares you? How?”
I looked at Sarah gratefully. Sometimes she was so easy to talk to. “I don’t know, but I just can’t seem to keep away from her.”
“It’s like that sometimes.” Sarah nodded.
“Look who’s suddenly an expert,” I teased gently.
“I’m more of an expert than you are buddy boy,” she snapped, playfully punching my shoulder.
“True.”
“Does she feel the same way?”
I could only shrug. I had no idea what Renee was feeling or thought.
“Sounds like you need to ask her then. Then at least you’d know,” Sarah replied simply. “That’d be something at least.”
I nodded. She did have a point.
“Well, it looks like the argument is finally winding down.” Sarah grinned, gesturing towards the others. “Want to wind another one back up?”
“Sure,” I nodded. “Politics? Or religion?”
“Neither, I’d like to go home before midnight and don’t fancy spending the rest of the afternoon in an argument.” Sarah shuddered.
“It’d be guaranteed to start one though.”
“Overkill,” Sarah commented back. “You’re such an amateur.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that. You’re the one that started an argument over if Wednesday is the middle of the week or not.”
“I did not!” Sarah grinned, biting off each word. “That was Garry!”
* * * *
The following morning I awoke groggily to find Tony sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Sleep in, did we?” He smirked.
“What time is it?”
/> “Eight-ish.”
“Give me five minutes,” I groaned and rolled over, attempting to pull the doona over my head.
“Oh, no. We’re not playing that game. No snooze button here, buddy,” he declared as he threw my school uniform over my head.
“I meant get out for five minutes while I get changed,” I lied as I resigned myself to my fate.
There was nothing for it. I’d have to get up.
“Oh, right.” He grinned as he tossed one of my shoes into my lap as he exited the room.
When I emerged from my room I found Tony and Garry sitting on the couch.
“Morning sleepy-head.” Garry grinned. “Have a late night?”
“No, not particularly,” I grunted as I moved over towards the kitchen. “How did you guys get in anyway?”
“Your mum let us in before she went to work.”
“Nice of her to wake me,” I grumbled.
“Apparently, she tried,” Tony protested. “She asked me to pour cold water on you if I couldn’t wake you.”
“You wouldn’t?” I chuckled. I noticed with some degree of alarm a half filled jug of water on the sink.
“Let’s just say that you’re lucky you got up first time,” Tony called back as I poured myself a glass of orange juice for breakfast and made ready to leave for school. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from the second and final semester of my last school year. The school didn’t seem any different, but there was an unspoken promise that all this would soon be over.
Our teachers delivered our final end of year assignments with stern warnings that they would make up a good portion of our marks and that we couldn’t simply attempt to rely on doing well during the end of year exam. We had another lecture shortly after lunch on the importance of university and how best to choose one that suited your needs. I was kind of glad that I’d chosen not to bother with the whole thing after the first half hour. It was quite tedious. After the full hour I had begun to lose feeling in my legs and by the end of the second hour I’d completely lost all hope for my future.
Why did they have to make it so hard? Why was it so important to get into a good university course straight out of high school? Why did the decision of what you wanted to do with your life have to be made now? It didn’t seem fair.
“I see you haven’t applied for any courses next year.”
I looked around and saw the condescending visage of Mr Saunders staring down at me.
“No, sir,” I replied meekly. I just wished he’d go away. “I’ve decided to work for a year first.”
“Have you considered deferring from a course?”
“Deferring?” I asked.
“You sign up for the course, get accepted and then defer the course for the following year,” Saunders explained.
“Oh.” I hadn’t even known that was an option. I suppose if I had been paying attention to the lecture or the several others similar to it earlier in the year I would have known all about it.
“I don’t really know what I want to do,” I said lamely.
To my everlasting surprise, Mr Saunders just nodded.
“That’s understandable,” he agreed. “It’s an important decision though. Think about it – there’s still time. For what it’s worth though, young Devon, you do have some skills in creative writing. You might want to consider that for a career.”
“Really, sir?” I was stunned. That had almost sounded like a compliment.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Mr Saunders continued. “You have quite a lot of potential and you know what they say – there’s a novel in everyone.”
“A novel?”
“Sure,” Mr Saunders advised. “Just don’t make yourself the main protagonist and you’ll do fine.”
Wow. That was surreal. I watched Mr Saunders as he walked away. I didn’t believe it. It was almost like he was a real person. He was being supportive and everything. Writing a novel sounded hard though. I had no idea what I would write about. Knowing me it’d end up being some tacky science fiction about something so nerdy that after twenty pages most people would have lost interest.
Still, it was something to consider, in the meantime I’d look into a course to defer – maybe a creative writing one. Maybe Saunders was right, I could be a writer. By Friday I had it narrowed down to three courses, none of which I was one hundred percent sure about. It was a good start though. I was planning on discussing them with Dad this evening.
I was half terrified and half anxious with excitement about going into the city that night. I had a premonition that I’d run into Renee again and this time I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. It seemed to take a long time for the school day to be over and my evening start. I breathed a sigh of relief when the train pulled into Flinders Street Station. The station was as busy as it normally was at this time. It was filled with people struggling to get home after a long day’s work.
I almost had to fight my way through the crowded station platform. This crowd was impressive in size, even for a Friday night. It was mostly made up of business people, all suited up and looking thoroughly miserable. It was depressing that this was their whole life. They were merely corporate monkeys working for corporate Australia. I had hoped not to become like them, however, if I ended up working for Martin’s graphic design company next year I’d be among them. It wasn’t a happy thought, so perhaps university was preferable.
I was able to move more freely once I cleared the platform area and made my way to Dad’s to drop off my school bag and get changed. Dad hadn’t left a note on the bench, which meant that he’d be home for dinner.
This meant I had about an hour or so to fill in.
I didn’t much feel like hanging out in the empty apartment so I made my way back down into the streets. There was an arcade at the end of the block that had gaming machines. This was a good way to kill some time. It was, as Dad put it, a criminal waste of money but I didn’t mind.
My favourite game was one of those shooter games. The kind where you need to point the gun controller at the screen and shoot the zombie before it gets you. Tony and I would occasionally play it after school in an arcade closer to home.
I’d never been good at these games. Tony had always been much better than me at this kind of stuff. I always ended up with a respectable score, though in the end the zombies always got me. Say what you like about the living dead – they’re persistent. I was doing well this time though, I must have killed at least three dozen zombies before I was interrupted. I let out a shriek as two hands suddenly snaked over my eyes and a voice whispered in my ear.
“Hey, Twitch. Are you avoiding me?”
I grinned as I recognised Renee’s voice.
“Is a zombie eating my brains now?” I asked, ignoring her question, gesturing towards the screen with the gun controller.
“Yup.” Renee informed me. “Nice girly scream by the way.”
“Damn,’’ I grumbled, ignoring her jibe. “I was going really well that time.”
“Eh, small loss.” Renee chuckled, finally removing her hands. “You won’t miss your brain, you hardly use it.”
“Well, that’s nice.” I said. “It’s good to see you too.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Renee reminded me as she casually threw some money in the machine and picked up the other gun.
“No, not avoiding you,” I explained. “Dad was travelling for work. I was at Mum’s.”
“Oh,” Renee replied as she skilfully shot two zombies. Seeing her play made me realise just how bad I was at this game.
“Nice,” I commented, referring to her skills in zombie eradication.
“Eh, these games are designed for two players.” Renee shrugged as she dispatched two more.
“Are you using my character as zombie bait?” I asked suspiciously after a few seconds.
I was already down to half health on my brain shaped health meter.
“No, I don’t think you can do that, but it’s a good idea though.”<
br />
“I thought you’d like it,” I replied dryly.
Several minutes later we were both ambushed and consumed by zombies.
“So much for your bait plan.” I murmured as we both looked at the game over screen.
“Hey, they got you first,” Renee retorted. “Play again?”
“No, I think the zombies have been well enough fed for one day.”
“So, what are we doing tonight?” Renee asked as she threw an arm around my shoulder and gently ushered me away from the machine.
“We?” I smirked. “What if I’ve already got plans?”
“Then you’ll change them,” Renee replied, straight-faced.
“Well fortunately, I don’t have any plans.”
“Very fortunate,” Renee agreed.
“Are you stalking me?” I teased as I suddenly realised that Renee had turned up out of the blue.
“No.” Renee smiled. “I saw you as I was walking towards the tram stop. We do tend to stand out in a crowd.” She gestured towards the mana circle of power on my chest.
“Thanks, I think you’re pretty too.” I grinned cheekily.
“Not what I meant, but I’ll take the compliment.” Renee laughed. “I take the tram every Friday back from university.”
“It’s strange that we haven’t run into each other before.”
“Who says we haven’t?” Renee replied innocently.
“You have been stalking me!” I accused half teasingly.
“No! Not at all,” Renee disagreed. “However, before you came into power I doubt you’d have stood out in a crowd to the same degree. I’d also bet that although you probably stare at women all the time, you don’t remember their faces.”
“Hey!” I protested loudly. “I remember faces! I’m good with faces!”
Renee laughed at my protest. I had to grudgingly agree that it was possible that I’d already seen her in the past but I hadn’t noticed her.
“Came into power?” I asked after a few seconds. The term seemed a little odd.
“It’s a term my grandfather uses for when you can first see mana,” Renee explained.
“It sounds a little cheesy.”
“What would you call it?”
“Dunno.”
“Then don’t pick on my terminology.”
“Awoken?” I suggested.
“Were you asleep before?” Renee pointed out acidly.
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