TAC Boot Camp

by Richard Pinkerton

  Wal was right about getting into the game. Nobody questioned their age or whether they should have been at school. ‘You guys head over to the other side. I’ll pick us up some snacks.’

  He went to join a queue at the hotdog stand while his friends made their way to the other side of the arena. Wal’s eyes widened when he discovered that they weren’t the only people from Te Arawa College there. Wal’s woodwork partner, Wayne Clooney was also there.

  Wal scowled. ‘What are you doing here, Clooney?’

  ‘Is there any reason different to your own why I shouldn’t be?’ He smirked.

  ‘How did you get by Mr Harris’s guards?’

  ‘I have my methods.’

  ‘I bet you bribed one of them.

  Clooney delivered him a contemptuous glare and walked away.

  After getting some food and drinks, Wal headed to the other side and found Pete and Mav up on the stands. He handed them each a carton of chips and a can of drink, but before he sat, he noticed yet another familiar face on the opposite side of the wall. ‘That’s Tucker!’

  Mav peered over in the direction he was pointing. ‘And he’s with Rod Williams and some other guys. What the hell?’

  ‘Let’s get as close to them as we can and listen in on what’s going on,’ Pete suggested.

  The three crept over to the wall, remaining low and climbed down each row of seats until they reached the spot directly over the wall from Tucker and his companions. They could hear quite clearly, what was being said.

  ‘Enjoy that can of Coke, Pyles, because you’re buying us all one next,’ came Rod’s voice. ‘Although we’ll have beer rather than Coke of course.’

  ‘What?’ Tucker asked. ‘I didn’t know I’d have to buy you guys a drink.’

  ‘Hey, we do rounds, mate, that’s how it works.’

  ‘But beer costs a lot more than Coke!’

  ‘Well we can’t help it if you’re under age. We’re not gonna get done for supplying alcohol to minors, are we? You get Coke, we get beer, it’s as simple as that. You wanna argue about it? Remember I got you in here for free.’

  ‘Oh... ok.’

  The other guys sitting with them laughed like an evil brood of witches.

  ‘Don’t expect us to buy you any food though, Pyles because none of us want to go broke.’

  The other’s laughed again. The seats were starting to fill up now and a buzz of voices came from all around. It was nearly time for the game to start.

  ‘Hey Pyles,’ came a voice Wal didn’t recognise. ‘Get up on the seat and yell something out to everyone.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like “I’m a fat moron.”’

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Do it, Pyles!’ Rod snarled.

  Wal exchanged glances with his pals.

  ‘Sounds like Tucker is there as bit of pre-match entertainment,’ Mav whispered.

  ‘Had to be something like that,’ hissed Pete. ‘Nobody’s gonna go anywhere with Tucker just for the pleasure of his company.’

  Tucker rose to his feet and climbed up onto the seat. Wal could see his face, so pushed himself further down so as not to be seen. He could barely hear Tucker say, ‘I’m a fat moron.’

  ‘Yah, come on, Pyles, you can do better than that,’ taunted Rod. ‘Shout it out so everyone can hear. Do that and I’ll buy you a carton of chips.’

  Tucker shouted out this time. ‘I’m a fat moron!’

  Rod and his pals burst out laughing.

  ‘Yeah, we know that, you stupid dick,’ called out one of Rod’s friends.

  ‘We could have told you that,’ said another.

  Wal almost felt sorry for the poor guy. Almost. Tucker nearly always deserved the ridicule that he received.

  ‘Hey, don’t get down,’ Rod commanded Tucker. ‘Be a fool for the crowd. Dance for them. They all wanna see you dance.’

  ‘No way!’ Tucker protested.

  ‘Do it!’ Rod snarled.

  Tucker’s head bobbed up and down, but then suddenly it stopped. ‘Hey!’ Tucker called out. ‘Cook, you ubbhead, what are you doing there!’

  Wal groaned. He slapped Pete across the arm. ‘Why didn’t you stay down, you Wally!’

  ‘I wanted to see him dance!’ Pete rose to his feet, followed by Wal and Mav.

  Tucker’s eyes widened. ‘What are you guys doing here?’

  Rod chuckled, ‘Oh, your little buddies have come to watch you make an idiot of themselves, have they?’

  ‘We’re not his little buddies!’ Wal growled, not about to be intimidated by Rod and his pals. If he had to, he’d take the lot of them on, even if he did get the crap beat out of him.

  ‘So, what are you doing there listening in?’

  ‘We were just sitting here. Can we help it if Pyles here decides he wants to be an idiot and shout and dance?’

  Tucker’s eyes narrowed, but Rod and his pals just laughed. Wal had at least appeared to have convinced Rod that it was a coincidence, them being there.

  ‘Ubb off!’ Tucker growled.

  Wal sneered, ‘Come and make me Pyles!’

  ‘Yeah, Pyles,’ said one of Rod’s friends, ‘Go beat him up.’

  ‘I’ll let you off this time.’ Tucker glared.

  Wal snorted. ‘What if I don’t want to be let off?’

  ‘Yeah, Pyles.’ Rod said. ‘What if he doesn’t want to be let off? If you want to hang with us you can’t be no chicken-shit wimp, mate. Get over there and smash his head in.’

  ‘I’ll let him off this time,’ Tucker repeated.

  ‘Yeah, whatever, Fats!’ Wal growled. ‘Maybe one of these days you’ll get some real guts.’ In defiance, he sat right back down on his seat, not intending going anywhere. Pete and Mav did the same.

  Wal delivered his pals a wry smile. ‘You can tell those guys don’t really want him around. They just want someone to pick on.’

  ‘Well it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,’ Mav said.