Spud - Learning to Fly

by John van de Ruit

  ‘Welcome,’ snarled Viking. ‘Now, due to gross inefficiency on the part of the school builders we are being forced to rehearse in this neolithic hovel.’ Viking’s face grew angry and he growled, ‘They say we shall have at least three weeks in the theatre, but I’m preparing myself for the worst. This …’ he roared, as he bounded up onto the stage with his arms spread wide, ‘is your new home, like it or not.’

  He then repeated his briefing on what each taped line meant but said it so fast that by the end of it I couldn’t remember a single thing again.

  I snuck a quick look along the front row at the faces of the girls, which seemed to be mostly fixed in absolute terror as they watched the director ranting and raving. I then locked eyes with the gorgeous brunette second from the end. She looks like a movie star. Her name is Victoria Perez Hamilton and according to Boggo and Rambo, she’s the most beautiful girl in the cast and the school. I hate to say it, but she puts Mermaid and Amanda into some perspective. For just a moment I thought she was really looking at me, but it turned out she was looking at Rambo who was chewing the end of his pencil and looking bored.

  Once again the rude mechanicals have been separated from the rest of the cast. The Guv, myself, Fatty, Boggo, Vern and Geoff Lawson were sent to the school library to rehearse our scenes while Viking remained in the hall with the lovers and the fairies. The library is about a kilometre from the school hall but we could still hear the never ending irate shouting and abuse.

  The good news is that The Guv has been ordered to assume responsibility for the mechanicals group until we move into the theatre. Viking said this was because he needed to spend time on the nuts and bolts rather than the bells and whistles, although Boggo reckons Viking is deliberately keeping us from the girls because we’re the studs of the cast and will distract them from their acting.

  The Guv flirted outrageously with the librarian who was waiting to knock off and hand over the library keys. He declared her the most magnificent librarian he had ever laid eyes on. The poor woman blushed terribly and said she was married, before bursting into shrill giggling.

  ‘Lucky man!’ declared The Guv as he swung his walking stick under his left arm. Then he announced, ‘I myself have married thrice. Bloody business. Bloody business.’ The librarian didn’t quite know what to make of The Guv. Clearly she had never met anybody so eccentric before. She kept giggling at whatever he said and nervously held onto her wedding ring, which she swivelled round and round on her finger.

  The librarian handed the keys over to The Guv. He bowed with a flourish and thanked her for such an enchanting conversation. She giggled again and left in a hurry.

  ‘Did you see that?’ hissed Boggo. ‘Did you see how he operates – brilliant!’

  ‘Nice spading, sir,’ said Boggo jovially after The Guv had finally worked out how to lock the library door.

  ‘Spading?’ said The Guv with a look of horror on his face. ‘Spading is for agricultural yahoos and other such plodders.’ He sniffed dismissively before declaring, ‘Greenstein, when I romance a woman, I do so with the full might of a thousand master poets behind me!’

  ‘Nice one, sir,’ said Geoff Lawson.

  We all looked around at the large characterless library. Like everything in this place, the different shelves of books are well spaced apart and neatly divided into subjects. The cream carpets and white walls gleamed in the bright neon lighting and the hum of the lights made it feel like a science laboratory. The Guv led us to the reading section where we removed the chairs to create an acting space. The Guv then pulled out some candles and lit them before ordering Fatty to turn out the lights.

  ‘Friends,’ began The Guv, ‘we mechanicals have been harshly set aside as bells and whistles in this Shakespearian charade. Let those lovers and fairies mock us – for we shall have the last laugh and perhaps the only laugh!’ He looked around, grinned at us mischievously and declared, ‘We have been left to our own devices in this so-called library.’ He gazed at the surrounding shelves with an appalled expression. ‘I propose that under the cover of darkness we devise a work of such brilliance and hilarity that we steal the show from under the director’s nose.’

  ‘Yes!’ hissed Fatty with clenched fists. ‘We are just as important as the other scenes.’

  ‘And funnier,’ said Geoff Lawson looking inspired.

  ‘Let’s beat them up!’ shouted Vern unable to contain his excitement.

  ‘Beat who up?’ Boggo was bewildered.

  ‘The fairies!’ said Vern and thumped his fist into his palm.

  Vern was obviously confused. Nevertheless The Guv quickly righted the ship when he praised Vern for his anger and advised him to channel it into his portrayal of Lion.

  ‘Right,’ said The Guv finally. ‘Let us break it all apart and begin again at the beginning.’ He pulled out an ink marker, strode towards the white board and wrote down:

  THE RULES OF COMEDIC ACTING

  1 If you think you’re funny, then you’re not

  2 Keep it real and authentic

  3 Use the language, don’t fight it

  4 Never upstage Bottom (The Guv)

  5 If you can hear the crickets chirping outside then immediately scratch your balls and make a funny face

  Unfortunately just then there was a loud knock on the door. After taking about five minutes to select the correct key, The Guv flung it open to reveal the impish figures of Brenda and Penny. They both looked a little startled at The Guv’s leering face and took a hesitant step backwards.

  ‘Mr Viking sent us to find somebody,’ blurted Brenda.

  ‘Dear God!’ said The Guv as he recoiled in horror. ‘He’s taking us one by one!’ He then asked whom it was that the executioner had summoned.

  ‘Somebody called Gav,’ said Penny.

  ‘Gav?’ enquired The Guv. ‘There’s no Gav here.’

  ‘Well, actually,’ said Penny regaining her confidence, ‘he said we must get The Gav, but that didn’t make any sense at all.’

  ‘Dear God, it’s me!’ gasped The Guv as he staggered back into the library clutching his chest. ‘I have been summoned.’ He then looked at us and shouted, ‘I must follow these grim reaperesses at once!’ He looked like he had been dealt a fatal blow and ordered us to run through the lines without him.

  ‘Sir,’ said Penny rather loudly, ‘Megan O’Reilly says Mr Viking has rabies. Is this true?’

  ‘My good woman,’ said The Guv as he pulled on his long coat, ‘it’s very unlikely Satan would contract rabies.’

  ‘Satan,’ gasped Brenda.

  ‘Indeed,’ replied The Guv. ‘Now if you two young fillies could guide me to a large white room of relief I would be much obliged. I have no intention of perishing on a full bladder.’

  The Guv thumped the door closed with the end of his walking stick and was gone.

  We didn’t end up rehearsing because Boggo found a pile of Wrexham school magazines and spent the next two hours perving over girls in old school hockey photographs and making us judge who was the hottest Wrexham hockey player in history.

  The winner – Caroline Roux (1981).

  Wednesday 5th August

  6:00 Once again I was woken by shrill giggling and sniggering in the common room. Then I heard my door creak slightly before a dark brown eye appeared in the crack.

  ‘Do you want some tea, Spud?’ said Brenda.

  I said thanks but my voice came out as a croak. She giggled and disappeared. I turned over and nearly fell asleep again but was then awoken by a sharper voice from the crack in the door. ‘Does Vern want tea?’ This time the eye in the crack was blue.

  ‘He doesn’t drink tea in the morning, he only has hot water,’ I replied. There was a pause before Penny shouted, ‘Does Vern want some hot water then?’

  ‘Yes,’ I croaked again.

  ‘Hey, keep it down!’ came Boggo’s anguished cry from next door followed by loud banging on the wall.

  ‘Sorry!’ hollered Penny in a shrill voice.


  There was more groaning from the other room and then the sound of clinking coffee cups from the kitchen. Then I heard somebody getting out of bed and the door opened. ‘Hey, girls,’ said Rambo, ‘watch out – Boggo’s got a ruler in his pants again!’

  There was a loud squeal from the kitchen and the girls tore out of the common room in fright.

  ‘All clear!’ Rambo called out, and the enormous figure shrouded in its white sheet followed by Boggo with three towels wrapped around his waist, tore out of the room for the bogs. Rambo grinned to himself and sauntered casually after them.

  The girls returned eventually and made us our tea/ coffee/hot water. Fatty emerged from his room looking surprisingly fresh and clean. Penny passed him his coffee and then pulled a bundle of choc chip cookies out of her bag. The bundle had been carefully tied with a pink ribbon with a small heart stuck to the end. ‘Um … Fatty …’ Penny began to blush. Pink at first and then scarlet. ‘I made these in Home Ec yesterday. I thought you might want them.’ Fatty’s eyes glazed over as he stared at the cookies. He then looked up at Penny with a look of such love that I nearly became emotional.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Fatty as he gently took the cookies from her.

  ‘Hope you don’t think they’re gross,’ said Penny, twisting uncomfortably on her feet.

  ‘They look delicious,’ said Fatty, feverishly working away at the knot of the pink bow. He pulled open the bundle and then carefully slid a biscuit into his mouth. After three chews he closed his eyes and groaned with joy.

  ‘You’re an actor. How do I know I can believe you?’ said Penny, acting coy and flirty. Fatty didn’t answer. Instead he shoved two cookies into his mouth at once and collapsed into a chair to focus on his munching.

  ‘He really does like them,’ Penny said in amazement and beamed at Brenda who gave her an excited thumbs up. Fatty didn’t utter a word until he had eaten every cookie in the bundle. Then he rose up from his armchair and informed Penny that they were the finest choc chip cookies in the world. Penny blushed again and twisted some more on her feet. Then Fatty began blushing as the rest of us dissolved into loud mockery and cruel jibes that sent the girls racing out the room again and shouting for us to follow.

  Fatty marched ahead at a breakneck pace. Not sure if he was still hungry or whether he was trying to catch up to the blonde cookie maker skipping along in front of him.

  SUBJECTS/ TEACHER COMMENTS/RATING

  MATHS (Mr Owen)

  Thanks to the unfortunate teacher, Maths promises to be nothing other than sheer misery. Why is it that Maths never clashes with anything? (1/10)

  ENGLISH (The Guv)

  Despite his strange behaviour since arriving at Wrexham, it’s good to have a familiar teacher to see every day. It’s also great to see the shock on the girls’ faces whenever our English teacher bursts into loud Shakespearian insults and swearing. (9/10)

  AFRIKAANS (Mev van Niekerk)

  Fairly lively teacher but prone to jabbering on in Afrikaans and losing the class in the process. Boggo rated her as not bad looking and assured us that Afrikaans women are brilliant and vigorous lovers. (6/10)

  HISTORY (Mrs Lynne)

  Unfortunately, not a very inspirational History teacher, and not strong on the pretty stakes either. Seems to think that good teaching is writing out something on the board and then repeating it in a droning voice before beginning the next sentence. It must be said she does have extremely neat handwriting. (6/10)

  GEOGRAPHY (The Spider)

  A nasty piece of work, who has already taken an exceedingly dim view of boys attending her class. Kicked Boggo out of the classroom for drawing an obscene picture on the inside cover of Fatty’s atlas. (4/10)

  SPEECH AND DRAMA (Ms Lindsay)

  A pretty brunette teacher straight out of university. Lively, energetic and sexy when doing her stretching exercises. Rambo says he’s definitely thinking of seducing her. (8/10)

  Friday 7th August

  15:30 ‘It’s bullshit,’ whined Boggo as he prodded the teabag floating in his mug. ‘They said this place was meant to be like Sodom and Gomorrah, with orgies kicking off left, right, and centre.’ He flung his teabag into the bin and called Wrexham a disgrace.

  Fatty grunted in agreement and slowly ate his way through another bundle of Penny’s choc chip cookies.

  ‘I mean …’ continued Boggo, after furiously stirring his tea and making it slosh over the sides of the mug, ‘besides classes and rehearsals and meals, we never even get to talk to a chick!’

  ‘Shocking,’ agreed Fatty and fed himself another cookie.

  ‘And it’s not like we can socialise and spade during classes and rehearsals either,’ responded Boggo.

  ‘Mr Owen will get you every time,’ said Fatty with a mouth full of biscuit and a sympathetic nod.

  ‘Exactly,’ snapped Boggo. ‘This place is like a prison. And the only girls we ever talk to are Penny and Brenda who were like still wearing nappies last year.’

  Fatty didn’t answer and instead pretended to be consumed with dunking his cookie.

  ‘What do you think, Spud?’ asked Boggo suddenly.

  ‘Dog show,’ I replied and shook my head gravely. This seemed to satisfy Boggo and he nodded back at me respectfully.

  ‘You see – Spud knows his shit. This is classic apartheid divide and conquer tactics!’ He then took a giant swig of tea and said, ‘My oath to God.’ He took another sip and said, ‘It’s sexist.’ Boggo switched the kettle on again and said, ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, having unlimited tea is pretty cool, and Penny and Brenda are fairly efficient.’

  Fatty nodded again in agreement. ‘The hottest slaves I’ve ever seen.’

  Boggo paused in opening a new milk carton, and then spun around accusingly at Fatty. ‘What do you mean they’re hot?’

  Fatty blushed and quickly tried to counter. ‘No, no, no, I didn’t say they were hot … But I like meant they were hotter than, say, other slaves … like Plump Graham and Rowdy and …’

  ‘You shouldn’t be looking at the Fragile Five in that way, buddy. It’s not normal,’ said Boggo and clicked his tongue as if deeply disappointed.

  Poor Fatty tried to justify himself but with every word he said, he buried himself deeper in the manure.

  ‘So what you’re basically saying,’ said Boggo in conclusion, ‘is that Penny is hotter than Meg Ryan’s Son, who is hotter than Rowdy, who is hotter than Plump Graham?’

  ‘Does Meg Ryan’s son go to your school?’ asked Brenda in amazement.

  Fatty lurched out of his chair, a look of horror on his face.

  ‘Don’t you knock?’ enquired Boggo and looked distastefully at Brenda. ‘You can’t just sneak in. We could be planning something.’

  ‘What are you planning?’ asked Brenda.

  ‘We’re planning something big,’ said Boggo seriously.

  ‘Really?’ said Brenda with wide eyes.

  ‘But it’s going to take a few sacks of cookies for me to open up.’

  Brenda giggled and then stared fiercely into my face. ‘You’ve got a phone call, Spud,’ she said. ‘It sounds like a girl who’s really upset!’

  ‘A girl?’ I replied in some shock.

  ‘Well, it sounded like a girl,’ said Brenda. ‘But it might have been a boy with a high voice.’

  ‘Hang on, hang on,’ said Boggo sipping frantically away at his third cup of tea in twenty minutes. ‘Did this girl ask to speak to Spud, or Spud, Vern or Fatty?’

  Brenda stared guiltily back at Boggo and then nodded her head.

  ‘Then, Brenda,’ said Boggo in a scornful tone, ‘that girl you spoke to on the phone wasn’t a girl but a garlic.’

  With that Boggo shouted, ‘Follow me, gentlemen, it’s time for the daily Garlic wind-up.’ He slammed down his tea mug and ran from the room on his long, pale, furry legs.

  ‘Hey, Brenda,’ said Fatty in a low voice once Boggo was gone. ‘Where’s Penny?’

  Brenda looked him directly in the ey
es and said, ‘Her duties have been moved to another house. She can’t come back any more.’

  ‘What?’ gasped Fatty, his face falling.

  ‘JOKES!’ shouted Brenda. ‘She’s at hockey practice, you dork! She’s coming to get you for supper and she told me to tell you that she’s bringing a surprise.’

  Brenda turned and marched out with a triumphant look on her face. Fatty heaved a great shuddery sigh of relief and then a naughty smile spread across his face. He looked at me and seemed to be on the verge of saying something. Instead he slapped me on the back and said, ‘Come on, Spuddy, let’s go wind up Garlic.’

  Sunday 9th August

  After a weekend of non-stop rehearsing with The Guv in the library I feel ready to perform in front of an audience, even if that audience is only the rest of the cast. The mechanicals’ scenes, thanks to The Guv’s direction, are becoming sharp and pacy. With The Guv’s Bottom leading the way with a brilliant comic performance, we just follow and everything seems to fall into place. The only negatives are that Vern is still prone to slipping back into gibberish Zulu and loud clicks. I can’t see what his Lion looks like because in the play the Lion is chasing me and I have to run around as Thisby screaming like a girl. Judging by the laughter, we’re doing okay. The Guv has calmed down to his usual self and the only time he behaves in an odd manner is when Mr Owen is around. There is, however, one serious problem – Boggo seems incapable of remembering his lines. He plays the part of Peter Quince who is the leader of the mechanicals and has been entrusted with directing the play within the play for the wedding of the Duke and Duchess and the Athenian lovers.

  I’m not sure if it’s stage fright, or his general unhappiness with Wrexham, but he hasn’t got it right once in rehearsal and yet when we practise in the common room, he never gets a word wrong. Boggo denies he’s got stage fright and has blamed his various blunders on: