BIG BREATH. My head hurts. Oooohh. That lava is burping. There’s sweat on the palms of my hands as I stand outside the classroom door. Mr Angelou’s voice booms right through it. ‘Open your maths books.’ I can see Mr Angelou through the glass pane in the door. He actually looks like an angel. A big, ugly angel. He’s very tall, with a round stomach. His head is mostly bald with a few tufts of thinning black hair and he’s got rosy cheeks. All he needs is a halo and a pair of wings, except he isn’t an angel. He’s tough. Mr Angelou has been known to give kids a thousand lines to write—‘I must behave.’ He gives detentions, makes you run around the oval fifty-five times, forces you to stand outside the staff room for the whole of lunch and the worst thing, calls up your parents. Mr Angelou is tough.
‘Sorry, Sir, for being late.’ I hand Mr Angelou Mum’s note.
He reads it. ‘Right, then. Hope you feel better. You’d better catch up on your work.’
Christopher and Paul nod at me. They sit at the same desk. As I walk past Anna’s desk, she smiles. I’m not allowed to smile back because she’s a girl. It’s stupid. Normally I couldn’t care less what everyone else thinks and I’d smile, but not today. George Hamel is sneering at me.
I just wink at Anna. We’ll see each other at the Napolis’ Super Delicioso Fruitologist Market after school today. Wish it was the end of school NOW.
Mr Angelou’s bald head shines like an egg under the neon light. He looks like he really has got a halo. I must be delirious. George Hamel sits right behind me. Mr Angelou allocated our desks at the beginning of the year and there’s no way anyone can move. Mr Angelou turns his back on the class to write formulas on the white board. ‘Bum Head. Bum Head. Bum Head. Bum Head.’ Whispers are coming from everywhere. I can see Anna. Her brown eyes are big and staring, which means she is worried. Me too. Christopher and Paul have their heads down working out the maths problems. I think they don’t want to see me.
Mr Angelou turns around quickly. ‘Did anyone say anything?’
Dead silence. I’m going to be dead when the bell rings. I’ve got to have a strategy. Think, think, think. Right. I’ll grab my apple and tennis ball, race up to Mr Angelou to ask him to explain the work I missed and walk out of the classroom with him. George Hamel and his mates won’t have time to catch me. Then I’ll race to the back of the toilet block and meet Christopher and Paul there to play handball against the far wall.
I look at my watch. Timing is everything. Okay, I’ve got my apple and ball. My head is throbbing. Noise from kids packing up. ‘Bum Head. Bum Head. See you outside. Ha. Ha.’ Race to Mr Angelou. Sweaty palms. He looks surprised. Explains the work I missed as we walk together through the door. Run, run. I catch a glimpse of George Hamel and his mates from the corner of my eye. He’s so dumb he won’t realise I’ve got a strategy. Puffing. My chest is going to burst as I speed like a racing car down the stairs, past the Staff Room, over the oval to the toilet block. I look around. No-one is following me. Made it. Made it.
Panting, I lean against the back wall. I look out from behind the wall. No George Hamel. Kids are playing in the yard. Girls are sitting in a circle on the grass. George Hamel won’t bother them. I stuff my green apple into my pocket. Even the thought of it makes my head pump. That must be what is causing my headaches. No more apples for me.
As Christopher runs across the grass, he calls out, ‘Have you got the ball?’
I hold up the tennis ball. Then it’s serious playing. I throw the ball against the toilet block and Christopher slams it back. Paul isn’t very coordinated and misses, making Christopher scoff. ‘Too slow, too slow.’ The handball game always ends up with Christopher and me thrashing it out. Sometimes he wins. Sometimes I do.
The bell rings. Christopher walks with me towards the classroom, past the girls getting up out of their grass circle. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Don’t know, Christopher.’ Christopher doesn’t offer to help me and I don’t ask.
Through clever tactics like walking in a crowd, standing next to Mr Angelou, racing out before anyone else has packed their stuff in their bags, I survive the day. But something strange is happening. It’s not even George Hamel anymore. Kids who don’t even know me are calling out. ‘Bum Head. Bum Head. Bum Head.’ It’s like a game and I am the target.
I sit near the girls in the bus. Anna is two seats in front of me, next to her girlfriend. Samantha is behind me next to no-one because she’s bringing home her artwork. It’s a collage of branches, petals, aluminum foil, buttons, coloured paper and shiny nuts and bolts. Rob brought home the nuts and bolts from work. ‘Do you think Mum will like it?’ Samantha taps me on my shoulder.
Mum likes everything Samantha makes. I bet Mum puts it right in the middle of the table so that we can’t see what we’re eating tonight. I don’t feel like teasing Samantha today. ‘Mum will think it’s terrific, Samantha.’
I help Samantha off the bus with her collage. Anna carries Samantha’s bag and we move quickly away from the others. On the way home, we walk past the supermarket where Mum works. She always waits for us at the window. Once we stopped off at the park and went home another way. Mum waited and waited for us to walk by the window of the supermarket, but we didn’t go that way. That afternoon Mum left work early and ran all the way to the unit and up the stairs and banged against our door crying. She thought we had been stolen or in an accident or something horrible had happened to us. She couldn’t stop crying for a long time and we cried too. Mum said we were the most important things in her life. We have never done that again. Even if we go to the park or to the Napolis’ Super Delicioso Fruitologist Market or to the video shop, we always wave at Mum’s supermarket window first.
Samantha and I run up to Mum’s supermarket window and wave. Mum blows a kiss to us before going back to work. Anna waits behind a tree, then runs quickly with Samantha’s collage past the supermarket so Mum won’t see it.
Mrs Napoli is waiting for us with three big, yellow mangoes. They are so sweet. Samantha is disgusting and it drips on her clothes. Mrs Napoli runs to get a wet cloth. Nothing drips onto Anna because she’s used to eating mangoes.
Afterwards, we throw a few baskets into the net at the back of my units. Anna really concentrates. She gets nine out of ten baskets. I only get six and Samantha gets seven and my head feels a bit better. Tomorrow is the weekend.
5 Nanna Discovers her Underpants
Saturday. Saturday. Hooray. I’ll just check out my organic life forms. Hmmm, my Jack’s Ponto looks good. There are green sprouts coming out of the top of the potato head and it smells like an onion. This is going to make me rich for sure.
I had better bang on Samantha’s door. ‘Hey, Samantha, get up.’ Puss jumps off Samantha’s bed and nearly knocks over Samantha’s CD player. That cat is fast when she’s heading for the kitchen and food. Food? I’m hungry. Nanna should be here any second with our breakfast. I love Saturday morning breakfasts. ‘Are you getting up, Samantha?’
There is this angry grunt from under Samantha’s sheet. ‘Get lost.’
I’d better tickle her. We’ve got to start moving. Samantha tries to kick me with both legs. Is that nice? Right, she’s in for it now. Tickle. Tickle. ‘Get up or I won’t stop.’
Samantha is very ticklish and I know just how to torture her by going to the most sensitive spots. ‘Jack, stop. I’m up already. Stop it, Jack. Stop it.’
‘You got up, just in time. That’s Nanna’s footsteps.’ Nanna shuffles along these days. Just as I exit Samantha’s room to find Nanna, there’s a huge slam of the bedroom door behind me. The door nearly smashes into me. It could have knocked me down and I could have crashed against the opposite wall with the handle jabbing into my spine and I could have been paralyzed. I’m lucky to have escaped. Samantha has a bad temper if you ask me.
‘Nanna, Nanna, what have you brought us?’ I give Nanna a hug. Nanna misses hugs ever since Grandad died. That was seven years ago. He died of a heart attack. It was quick and Mum says that Gra
ndad didn’t suffer, but Nanna did. She didn’t have time to say goodbye and tell him all the things she’d forgotten to tell him when he was alive, like how she thought he was strong and the best husband and dad, and how he told the best jokes and made everyone laugh.
When Nanna takes us out to the cemetery to see Grandad she talks to him. I do too, because I can remember Grandad. I want to tell Grandad about George Hamel. A shiver goes down my spine. No. I don’t want to think about George Hamel. Grandad had a moustache. I’d help him fix up his car with my hammer and wrench. They were only plastic but that doesn’t matter. I remember Grandad saying that I was a fixer and that it was a great thing to be a fixer.
Nanna’s bought flaky croissants and a fresh bread stick from our bakery for breakfast. Oh, Nanna’s got three giant cookies as well. Nanna takes the apricot jam from the cupboard and margarine from the fridge. She has oranges for orange juice. She used to squeeze them for us, but these days her hands are sore with arthritis and I do it on Rob’s juice squisher. ‘You’re such a helpful boy, Jack. Just like your Grandad.’
Saturday mornings are always Nanna mornings. Mum works every Saturday in the supermarket. ‘Look what I have for you.’ Nanna is the best special buyer in the world. She buys watermelon for half price and bought the jeans that I really wanted at the end-of-season sale. It helps Mum out and it means that I can eat watermelon in jeans that fit. But there is one tiny problem with Nanna’s specials.
Socks and underpants. Everyone needs socks and underpants and I have to tell the truth, I lose a lot of socks. Just one of the pair usually, BUT I never lose my underpants.
Samantha grumps in. ‘Why did you wake me up, Jack? I’m tired now. It’s your fault.’ Grump, grump. She gives Nanna a hug, then drags a chair over the lino so it makes this horrible screeching sound. Ugh. Nanna doesn’t hear, of course, because she’s fossicking in her bag and you already know that she is a bit deaf. It’s sort of funny but Nanna doesn’t think she is deaf. She thinks people don’t tell her things, but in some ways she is happier because she doesn’t want to hear a lot of things. I wish I didn’t hear things too. Bum Head, Bum Head. I put my hands over my ears. Nanna puts on the TV so loudly that everyone in all the units hears it. You can even hear it down the street. Nanna thinks there is something wrong with our TV because of the volume. It doesn’t go loud enough for her, but she knows we can’t afford a new TV, so she puts up with it. Nanna loves her TV shows, especially the soapies.
Smiling, Nanna takes out four pairs of socks for the price of two, and six pair of underpants for the price of one. ‘They’re very fashionable, you know.’ Fashionable? Mum would love them. They’re purple. Bright fluorescent purple. Glow-in-the-dark matching socks and underpants. ‘I don’t think they’ll fit, Nanna.’ I hope they don’t fit.
‘I bought one for everyone with some extras.’
Samantha nearly chokes on her orange juice and as she coughs her pigtails start bobbing up and down.
‘Are you all right, Samantha?’ Nanna is always so kind.
Samantha nods.
‘Look, look.’ I make a significant discovery. ‘There’s one pair of underpants here in your size, Nanna.’
Nanna’s face lights up. ‘I didn’t notice that.’
‘You can wear purple underpants too.’ Nanna likes that idea and shuffles into Samantha’s bedroom to try them on.
She arrives back in the kitchen smiling. ‘Perfect,’ and lifts up the back of her dress to prove it. We’re nearly blinded by the fluorescent glow, but yes, Nanna is wearing her purple underpants and they fit.
Samantha puts on a pair and so do I. ‘We’re the family that lights up, Nanna.’
Nanna thinks that’s funny. Samantha giggles. Samantha’s in a better mood because she is stuffing herself with a giant cookie. So is Nanna. I had better take my cookie before Nanna and Samantha have seconds.
‘If we get robbed, we’ll just have to flash our underpants and we’ll blind the robber.’ I get into my joke mood.
‘Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha…’
‘Doctor, Doctor, why do I keep seeing purple in front of my eyes?
‘Tell your Nanna to pull down her dress.’
‘Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha…’
‘What’s purple and slimy and goes hith?
‘A snake with a lisp. Get it? Lith…lisp. Lisp.’ I lisp through my cookie and end up spitting a bit on the table. I can’t help it because jokes and a mouthful of cookie are a pretty dangerous combination.
Samantha tries to say I’m disgusting but she’s laughing so much she ends up spluttering a cookie onto Nanna’s plate. Luckily Nanna can’t see so well either and she doesn’t care anyway.
It’s a fun breakfast. Then we start on Nanna’s Saturday morning routine. She mops the kitchen floor. Samantha has to get the mop and bucket from the laundry. Nanna tidies the kitchen while Samantha clears the table. Nanna vacuum cleans and I move the chairs so she can get the vacuum hose underneath them. She dusts the blinds. I do the high parts. Lastly, Nanna empties all the wastepaper baskets and puts the rubbish in a bag for me to take down to the garbage bin. Exhausted, Nanna kisses us and says what great children we are and gives us five dollars each. She makes herself comfortable with a cup of tea in front of the TV. ‘Be back before your mother gets home,’ she always says.
We hug Nanna. Then Samantha and I race down the stairs. Samantha actually jumps three steps in one go at the bottom. I jump six steps. ‘Come on,’ I call out to Anna who’s waiting for us in front of the Napoli’s Super Delicioso Fruitologist Market and we’re off.
I’m in charge of adventuring. We’re heading to the beach for serious rock climbing. Anna’s carrying her usual backpack, which Mrs Napoli has filled with drinks, fruit and nuts. It is really difficult asking Anna for a nut since it has become a banned word. I just have to point a lot. Anna’s got almonds. My favourite.
I tell Anna about Nanna’s purple underpants and we laugh all the way down to the seaside. The weather is just right for rock climbing. A sunny day with a cool breeze. Samantha’s brought her bucket to collect interesting shells or a starfish if we find one. I’ve got my pocket knife combo attached to my belt. It’s made out of stainless steel and has a knife, bottle opener, scissors, can opener, corkscrew and file all in one. Rob gave it to me last Christmas. That’s when I knew he liked me a lot. He knows I need it for all the things I do and it cost a lot of money. He wouldn’t have bought it for me if I was just nobody. I knew Mum was happy when he gave it to me, because she put her arm through Rob’s and rested her head against his shoulder. Rob did go overboard a bit when he bought Samantha her CD player. That cost even more than my pocket knife. That doesn’t mean he likes Samantha more than me.
‘Come on.’ I lead the way across the rock platform towards the sea edge. ‘Just follow my footsteps. Be careful.’ There are a lot of potholes, boulders and sandstone outcrops. Samantha fell into a crevasse last time and scraped her knee and I had to carry her on my back all the way home.
Anna stops. ‘Jack, come back and look at this.’ Samantha is already next to her peering down into a rock pool.
Anna usually finds interesting things to investigate, so I hurry over. It’s an enormous jellyfish. It looks like a big blob of gooey paste with tentacles hanging from it.
‘Yuk. It’s disgusting.’ Samantha shudders. ‘I don’t want that in my bucket.’
I get a stick and hit the water. The blob of jellyfish contracts but its tentacles just float with the ripples of water. A small crab clambers between the cracks in the rock pool and a sea anemone. I bend down and dig into the water with the stick.
‘I don’t like the jellyfish. It can sting you.’ Samantha holds Anna’s hand.
‘I wouldn’t let it sting you, Samantha.’ I stand up. ‘Let’s look at the waves.’
The water crashes over the edge of the rock platform spraying sea into our hair. It smells like salt and when I lick my lips I can taste the salt too. A fisherman throws in his line and waits to catch so
mething. There should be bream around. I like the sea even though there are jellyfish.
Samantha takes her bucket to look for shells, but Anna stands with me looking out at the sea. I wish I didn’t have to go to school again. I wish I could just stand here forever and never go back. Quietly Anna tugs at my shirt. When I look at her, she has her hand pressing against her lips.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘Yes.’ The wind tussles her hair and she pushes it back. ‘They’re like jellyfish at school, aren’t they?’
‘What?’
‘Jellyfish with stingers.’ She hesitates. ‘You’ve got to tell me. What’s happening at school?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ But I do know. I’m in trouble.
‘I hear them calling out names at you. It’s horrible,’ she whispers. ‘And I’m supposed to be your friend, and I’ve said nothing, done nothing.’
‘You can’t do anything. It’s my problem. I’ll fix it.’
‘I don’t think you can.’
‘Sure I can.’ I feel a hot pain in my head.
‘I want to help.’
Anna can’t help me. I know that, but somehow it makes me feel better that she wants to.
Samantha runs over to us. ‘Look what I’ve found.’ She shows us a strange orange-striped helmet shell that swirls into a peak with a creamy smooth inside. We look around and find more shells. I use my pocket knife and carefully scrap off seaweed from a very interesting sea snail shell that Samantha wants.
Afterwards, we eat Mrs Napoli’s juicy peaches sitting on a rock looking out to sea.
6 Karate Kid
Sunday night. I’m lying in bed watching my Jack’s Ponto growing. It’s going to be a monster. I know I’ll be rich. I had the best weekend. Rob took us all out for dinner, including Nanna. Mum liked that a lot.
I Am Jack Page 3