The sun sets as everyone helps pack up the garage sale. Everyone except Jack. He’s nowhere to be seen. Kevin carries a box of shoes towards the garage and turns to Dylan beside him. ‘Did I ever tell you that ducks have three eyelids?’
Also carrying a box of shoes, Dylan nods and grins. ‘Yep. It’s a miracle of nature.’
Dylan looks across at the house and sees the flicker of the television through the window. He knows what that means. His father is watching some old sports match again.
‘Okay, so I have the total from today’s event.’
Dylan turns to Mr Hickenlooper who sits at a table nearby. The teacher’s face is painted like a happy jungle cat and he holds an envelope in his hand.
Dylan puts down the box, looks at the envelope and swallows hard. He’s extremely worried about its contents. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’ Mr Hickenlooper pauses, a grim expression on his face.
Dylan feels sick to the stomach. ‘Let me have it.’
Mr Hickenlooper’s face breaks into a wide smile. ‘One thousand, seven hundred and forty-five dollars and sixty-five cents!’
Dylan is stunned. ‘One thousand seven hundred – woah! That’s . . . that’s amazing!’
Mr Hickenlooper nods to Grandpa and his friends who chat at a table nearby. ‘Those old ladies with the scones really moved some units.’ He passes the envelope to the boy. ‘It’s enough to get you to Japan.’
Dylan studies the envelope, astonished. It’s difficult for him to comprehend. ‘You’re sure you added it up correctly?’
‘Dylan, I’m your maths teacher.’
It finally sinks in. Thrilled, Dylan turns to the others and holds the envelope above his head, victorious. ‘Everyone! I’m going to Japan!’
They all cheer, Grandpa the most vocal, Kevin coming in a close second. Dylan looks back to his teacher. ‘Thank you, Mr Hickenlooper.’
The teacher smiles warmly. ‘That’s all right, mate.’
Dylan is suddenly struck by a fearful thought. ‘I don’t have to get a vaccination, do I?’
Mr Hickenlooper grins. ‘No, mate. Not for Japan.’
Dylan sighs in relief. ‘Good, ’cause I can’t stand needles.’
‘You should go and tell your dad, eh?’
Dylan nods and looks over at the house, the flicker of the television still visible through the window. ‘I will.’ But he doesn’t want to because he doesn’t know what he’ll find in there. He takes a deep breath, turns and walks into the house.
Dylan enters the kitchen, thinks that if he acts excited it might rub off on Jack. ‘Dad! Guess what? We raised . . .’ He stops dead.
His father isn’t lying in his regular position. Instead he sits on the ground and leans against the lounge. The television is on but it’s not showing an old sporting event. It shows a holiday video of Jack and Cindy and a young Dylan as they splash each other at the water’s edge on a golden beach.
Dylan watches the video. He remembers the day, remembers it like it was yesterday, remembers how much fun it was. He glances at his dad and realises Jack’s not even looking at the television. Instead he stares at the floor, lost in thought. Lost without his wife.
A few weeks later it’s rainy and the sky is overcast. The living room is dark and gloomy as Jack sleeps on the lounge, the television off. Dylan kneels beside him. He has his nicest jeans and T-shirt on. He wants to look good for his first actual trip on a plane, and for when he sees Kimi.
‘Come on, Dad. Please.’
Jack turns and looks at his son, eyes bleary, face pale and unshaven with a three-day growth.
‘I want you to come to the airport.’
‘I . . . I can’t. You’ll be fine.’ His voice is low and distant.
‘I don’t want to leave you like this.’
‘I’ll be fine. And you’ll have a great time.’ A long moment passes and Jack looks sadly at his son. ‘You like doing it, don’t you? The paper planes.’
Dylan nods. ‘I love it.’
Jack studies him. ‘Why?’
Dylan knows exactly why; he’s just not sure he should say it to his father. He doesn’t want to make him feel any worse than he already does, but then he should tell him the truth. He can’t keep treading on eggshells around him, can he?
‘Why do you love it so much?’ It seems Jack genuinely wants to know.
‘Because, for those few seconds when the plane is flying, I can forget.’
‘Forget what?’
Dylan hesitates, then says it, ‘This.’
Jack turns away, his eyes wet with tears, clearly heartbroken that he makes his son feel that way.
Dylan turns away too, feels awful that he made his father cry.
Dylan and Grandpa sit in the back seat as the taxi drives through the rain. Dylan looks out the window at the overcast sky. Against the grey cloud he can see Clive, high above, keeping pace with the taxi until the bird turns and swoops away. It makes Dylan smile. He really will miss that bloody bird. It’s a funny feeling. He feels sad and excited at exactly the same time.
The departure gate of Perth International Airport is packed with people. Nearby Dylan takes in the crowd as they file through the sliding doors, then looks up at Grandpa. ‘Well, this is me then.’ Dylan steps forwards and hugs the old bloke tight. ‘You’re still my favourite living fossil.’
Grandpa hugs him right back. ‘Go forth and partake in a grand adventure, little man.’
‘I don’t think anyone uses the words “forth” or “partake” in normal conversation any more, Grandpa.’
‘Well, they should. You could be the one who brings them back into fashion.’
‘Never gonna happen, old boy.’ Dylan smiles up at him. ‘Try not to cark it while I’m gone, okay?’
‘I’ll do my best, kiddo.’
‘And check up on Dad.’
‘Will do.’
Dylan nods, takes a deep breath, then moves to Maureen who waits at the sliding doors. They turn and wave at Grandpa. He waves back, and he looks happy and sad to see Dylan leave.
Dylan stares out the window of the A380 as Perth shrinks below.
He’s worried about his dad, but he’s also glad to be on his way to somewhere exciting. It’s a relief to be getting away from home, even if it’s only for a little while, but he also feels bad about being happy to leave.
What he is jazzed about is being on an aeroplane for the first time ever. And this jet is huge, like a giant city in the sky. It was made by a bunch of French people, who clearly have found their winged keel.
It’s a thirteen-hour flight from Perth to Tokyo but it’s smooth and comfortable in the big jet. Dylan manages to catch some zeds on the way so he’s ready and raring to go when Maureen wakes him for landing.
He excitedly looks out the window of the airliner at the sprawling metropolis of Tokyo below. The view takes his breath away. Everywhere he looks there is another vibrant colour. This city is like Kimi, the opposite of beige. He falls in love with the place straightaway.
The welcome reception for the world championships is being held in a majestic Japanese open-air garden at the centre of the hotel where Dylan is staying. The garden is ringed by large paper lanterns and the reception is filled with people he doesn’t know. The crowd is made up of his fellow competitors, and their families, from all over the world. He’s a little nervous when he arrives, but Maureen takes good care of him.
Across the garden Dylan spies Kimi with her parents. Excited, he raises a hand. ‘Kimi.’
She turns to her name, sees him and her face lights up. ‘You made it!’
They move across the garden to meet. For a moment he thinks they might even embrace–
Clang. Dylan clunks his knee on a low planter box and doubles over in pain. His voice is a croak. ‘Again?! Seriously?!’
Kimi is instantly concerned. ‘Are you okay?’
He isn’t but plays it off. ‘I’m fine.’ His voice is still a croak.
‘You look like you’re in need of medical
assistance.’
‘Nahhh, it’s all good. I’ll walk it off.’ He just wants to change the subject. ‘So how are you?’
‘Better now you’re here.’
That is music to his ears.
On the opposite side of the garden Patrick observes Dylan and Kimi’s meeting and their easy friendship. He turns to Jason who seems unhappy to be there. ‘Don’t you want to go and maybe talk with some of these people? You might make some friends.’
Jason shakes his head and looks at his father like he’s mad. ‘No time for that, Patrick. I think we should get out of here and do some training.’
‘What? We arrived five minutes ago.’
‘When Andre Agassi was my age he was going to school and training four hours every day. Four hours!’
‘He also wore a wig for most of his career so no one would know he was bald. I’m not sure he’s the role model you want him to be. And would you stop calling me Patrick? I’m your father.’
‘I don’t need you to be my father this week. I need you to be my coach. I need you need to motivate me.’
‘What do you mean? I’m always motivating you.’ He shows him. ‘Good on you, mate! Keep it up! Well done!’
Jason stares at him. ‘Could that have been any less inspiring?’ He turns and points. ‘That lantern could have done a better job. You need to lift your game. Every time I turn around you’re gabbing on with some competitor or one of their parents. You should be focused on me. They’re the enemy.’
‘No, they’re not. They’re very pleasant people who make paper aeroplanes as a hobby. I want them to like us–’
‘We can’t be friends with them. Why is this so difficult for you to understand? They’re competitors.’
‘Can’t they be both? Can’t yours be a popular victory? Can’t they be happy for your success? Wouldn’t that be nice?’
‘Sure, and it’d be nice to live in Tinky-Winky Land where the oceans are made of hot chocolate and the clouds are marshmallows, but it ain’t gonna happen. You need to realise they’re my opponents, otherwise I’m going home a loser. Do you want me to go home a loser?’
‘That’s kind of a simplistic question.’
‘Yes. It is. Do you want me to go home a loser?’
‘Well, no, of course not, but–’
‘Good. Now prove it.’
Patrick regards his son for an unhappy moment.
What kind of monster have I created?
A bullet train thunders along the tracks as Mount Fuji looms on the horizon.
On board the train are the kids who will compete tomorrow. They’re an interesting group who hail from all over the globe, everywhere from South Korea to the United States, from Germany to Ghana.
Dylan tries not to stare at Kimi who sits on the other side of the carriage and looks out the window as the lush countryside whips past. The trouble is he finds it extremely difficult not to. She turns and catches him staring. Embarrassed, he immediately looks away as if he’s inspecting the seat in front of him. Kimi can’t help but smile. He sees the smile and it makes his heart sing.
An hour later the kids wander through an ancient temple where a paper-making ceremony is in progress. A young Japanese woman is their tour guide and addresses the group, ‘As early as 100 AD, long before origami was invented, paper was being made in Japan. Remember, before you can fold paper you should first understand and appreciate how to make paper.’
The group studies the beautiful pieces of handmade paper that hang to dry nearby. Dylan touches the paper, feels it, bends it, gets a sense of its possibilities. The group then helps pound and stir rags immersed in tubs of water as part of the paper-making process. Dylan and Kimi do it together and really get into it. It doesn’t smell great but it’s a lot of fun.
‘Hey! Stop it!’ Dylan looks up. Jason has folded a bunch of paper ninja stars and thrown one at a small boy nearby.
Thunk. Another hits the boy in the back of the head. ‘Cut it out!’ He has a British accent.
Jason laughs at him. ‘What are you afraid of? It’s just paper.’ He throws another star.
Thunk. It hits the boy in the face. The boy unsuccessfully tries to bat it away, back-pedals and trips to the ground.
Dylan moves quickly, helps the boy to his feet. The little Brit is clearly upset and close to tears. ‘Sorry, buddy, you’ll be right.’
Dylan turns to Jason. He hates bullies and this guy seems to be making a career out of being one. ‘What do you think you’re doing? Apart from embarrassing twenty million Australians? Pull your head in.’
Jason bristles. ‘What did you say?’
‘You heard.’
Jason steps towards Dylan. ‘What did you say?’
Dylan doesn’t flinch.
He realises Jason is only the second bully he’s ever stood up to. The first was Kevin and now that Dylan thinks about it he was a cream puff compared to this bloke.
Even so Dylan’s going to do it, or at least go down trying. Jason needs to be dealt with or he’ll be unbearable for the rest of the competition.
‘What did you say?’ Jason steps closer, towers over Dylan.
His arms and legs buzz with adrenaline but Dylan stands his ground. He locks eyes with Jason and speaks in a hard, level tone, ‘Jump ahead a few minutes. How do you think this is gonna work out for you?’
Jason stares at Dylan for a long beat, then breaks eye contact and takes in the other kids that surround them. None of them makes a noise; they just stare at Jason. It’s clear no one likes the way he acts.
Jason looks back at Dylan. A moment passes, then Jason wavers, pushes past Dylan and storms away, clearly embarrassed.
Dylan watches him go and realises his mum was right with another piece of advice about bullies. Most of them are cowards. As soon as you stand up to them they back down.
Dylan moves back to the tub and continues to watch the paper-making process with Kimi. The buzz of the adrenaline rush slowly dissipates.
The bullet train races along the tracks as the sun sets behind it.
Most of the children nap but Dylan scribbles in his notebook above a series of drawings that illustrate the various steps to make paper.
Back at the hotel the kids head to a final briefing about tomorrow’s competition before hitting the sack.
Dylan walks through the lobby and can’t help but think how lush the place is. Though, as much as he likes it, he still misses home. He thinks about his dad a lot, wonders how he’s feeling. He’ll definitely call him tonight.
Dylan moves up a short set of stairs to the meeting room. Kimi’s just ahead as Jason falls in beside him. Dylan doesn’t say anything to him because, well, what is there to say? Jason’s acted like such an idiot on numerous occasions and until that changes and he does pull his head in, there isn’t anything to say.
But it seems Jason thinks there is something to say. ‘Hey, you gonna go cry to your dad when you come last in the finals tomorrow? Oh, that’s right, he’s not here, is he?’
Nice.
Gee, this guy really is a tool. ‘Back off, Jason. You’re doing a great job of making sure you don’t have any mates.’
They continue to climb the hotel stairs side by side. ‘Maybe I am, but at least my father’s here to see me win.’
‘Yeah, whatever you reckon.’
They reach the top of the stairs. ‘White trash.’ Jason throws out an arm and pushes Dylan. It’s not a big push but it’s enough to cause him to overbalance.
‘Oh jeez!’ Dylan tumbles down the stairs. It’s scary. He throws out his right hand to break his landing.
Crunch.
Dylan hits the ground hard. His hand does break the fall but not very well. He rolls to a stop and clutches his wrist. It hurts worse than anything he can remember. ‘Ahhh!’
Jason walks on and doesn’t look back.
‘Dylan!’ Kimi rushes down the stairs and kneels beside him with a very concerned expression. ‘Are you okay?’
Dylan tries to be b
rave and forces a smile. ‘I think I’m in need of medical assistance.’
In his hotel room, Dylan sits at the table, miserable. A young Japanese doctor places an icepack over his right wrist as Kimi watches.
The doctor speaks in Japanese and Kimi translates for Dylan, ‘It would seem like you have sprained your wrist.’
Dylan nods unhappily. ‘I thought so.’
The doctor speaks again and Kimi translates, ‘It will take a week to recover.’
This is not what Dylan wanted to hear. ‘A week? I need to use it tomorrow.’
The doctor speaks again. Kimi translates and points to his left wrist. ‘Then I guess it’s lucky you have a spare.’
Dylan’s in no mood for the doctor’s jokes. ‘Har-dee-ha, doc, har-dee-ha. This is my throwing wrist. I need to use it.’
The doctor speaks and again Kimi translates. ‘There’s not a lot that can be done except to keep ice on it. He’ll drop by tomorrow night to have another look.’
Dylan pulls in a deep breath and feels utterly downcast. Unfortunately the competition will be well and truly over by tomorrow night. ‘Okay, thanks, doc.’
Maureen rushes into the room, very worried. It’s the first time Dylan’s seen her when she hasn’t been super excited about everything. ‘What happened?’
Dylan takes a moment to think about his answer. Does he dob in Jason or does he keep it to himself? ‘I tripped.’ He decides to keep it to himself. He doesn’t like tattletales, as his mum used to call them, and he doesn’t need Maureen to fight his battles for him.
‘You tripped?’
‘I tripped.’
She’s clearly not buying it but lets it go. ‘Okay. Get some rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.’
But Dylan’s not at all sure. ‘I can’t imagine I’ll be competing.’
As the doctor finishes packing his bag Kimi says something to him in Japanese. The doctor answers, then Kimi turns to Dylan. ‘There might be one thing we could do.’
Dylan brightens. ‘What?’
Paper Planes Page 8