by Tim Harris
Mr Bambuckle, meanwhile, caught Scarlett’s eye and gave her an affirming nod. ‘Your forgiveness is a marvellous thing, dear child. When you draw on such strength you can thrive in even the harshest conditions.’
Scarlett smiled. ‘Thanks, Mr Bambuckle.’
Miss Frost was now speaking quietly on the phone and Harold dared inch closer to where she was standing. ‘She’s saying something about hair gel,’ he said.
‘Hair gel?’ said Albert. ‘What could she possibly want with hair gel?’
‘Wait a moment,’ said Harold. ‘I think I’m wrong. She’s saying something about ex-bells.’
‘Ex-bells?’ said Albert. ‘That’s stranger still.’
Harold took another step closer to Miss Frost. ‘Wrong again. It’s something about someone being repelled. Or egg spelled.’
Albert glanced at Scarlett. ‘She couldn’t mean … expelled, could she?’
Miss Frost sensed the class was catching on and she waltzed cruelly within earshot.
‘Mr Geeves … I understand your shock … I am expelling her due to unreasonable behaviour at school … Yes, I am quite serious … It was a computer program called PhotoCrop … Mr Geeves, do I sound like I’m joking? … I shall send you a text message with the address of the camp and you and Mrs Geeves are to come and collect Charlotte – sorry, yes, Scarlett – immediately. Goodbye.’
Miss Frost tucked her phone back into her pocket and turned to the class. ‘My expectations will be met. Discipline is the new order.’ She straightened her top and turned towards her car. ‘Skylight, you have half an hour to pack your things. I’m off to complete some paperwork.’
As Miss Frost walked away, the gravity of her decision hit the students like a ton of bricks. Ren and Vinnie embraced the shell-shocked Scarlett, Carrot’s eyes watered uncontrollably and Evie curled up into a tiny ball at Victoria’s feet.
Although Mr Bambuckle knew this wasn’t the end of the story, he understood this was a low point, so he asked the students to gather around.
‘She promised there would be no punishment,’ managed Scarlett, wiping away a tear.
‘Why is Miss Frost so mean?’ said Miffy, who felt as though her effort during the game had been wasted.
Mr Bambuckle offered a reassuring smile, pausing to ensure Scarlett was drawn in by its comfort. ‘Dear children, as difficult as this is, I must urge you to take heart and follow Scarlett’s strength. We would be foolish to forget the example of the snow crocus.’
‘The snow crocodile?’ said Harold. ‘There’s no such thing.’
‘Not crocodile, dear Harold,’ said the teacher. ‘Crocus.’
‘What’s a snow crocus?’ asked Ren.
‘Oh, pick me!’ said Albert, who had read about crocuses in books.
Mr Bambuckle retrieved his frying pan from one of his pockets and flipped it in the air. It spun twice and he caught it with the ease of a seasoned juggler. ‘Kindly tell us what you know, dear boy.’
Albert adjusted his glasses. ‘The snow crocus is a flower that’s known to bloom in cold conditions. It can even burst into colour through snow.’
‘Your knowledge is a beautiful thing,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
‘I know a beautiful thing,’ said Damon, gazing at Victoria.
Mr Bambuckle flipped the pan again – which was now sizzling – and caught it with his other hand.
‘I detect the aroma of pancakes,’ said Slugger.
‘Right you are,’ said Mr Bambuckle, with a smile. ‘There is so much wonderful knowledge in this group – I must never take it for granted.’
Miffy scratched her head. ‘I’m confused. What do snow crocuses have to do with Scarlett and Miss Frost?’
Mr Bambuckle’s green eyes shone. As someone who welcomed curiosity, he knew the question warranted a thoughtful response. ‘Just like the snow crocus can blossom through the ice, people can flourish in difficult times. The snow crocus is indeed a special flower – it often represents the end of winter and the early stages of spring. Scarlett demonstrated this marvellous strength when she hugged Miss Frost. I have no doubt she will continue being courageous for a long time to come.’
‘Are you saying Scarlett will be okay, even if Miss Frost has just expelled her?’ said Miffy.
‘Of that I am most certain,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘And perhaps even Miss Frost will someday bloom. I sense her winter will eventually come to an end.’
There was a moment’s silence as the students thought about what their teacher had explained. Knowing full well there was truth to everything he said, their miserable thoughts for Scarlett turned to hope.
The colour returned to Scarlett’s cheeks and she stood up. ‘I think I have the strength to pack my things now.’
‘I know you have the strength to do so,’ said the teacher.
Scarlett let the comment sink in, then walked to her tent.
Mr Bambuckle whistled, tossing his frying pan into the air once more. This time he caught it behind his back.
The students watched in admiration for quite some time, marvelling at their teacher’s skill.
‘Why do you keep flipping the pan?’ asked Harold eventually.
‘Because flipping pancakes is too easy,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘And I do believe they’re ready. Who would like one?’
‘Me, please!’ sang a chorus of voices.
As the students reached for the tasty snacks, Scarlett returned with her belongings.
Although the students were now feeling much better about things, their uncertainty for their classmate’s future added a sombre tone to the afternoon.
Harold offered Scarlett his pancake. ‘We believe in you,’ he said. ‘We know you are remarkable. Even though you have to leave our school, we have faith you will be okay, because you’re strong.’
Scarlett smiled. ‘It’s you who make me strong,’ she said, addressing the entire class, including Mr Bambuckle.
‘But it’s you who blossoms,’ said Harold. ‘You’re a snow crocodile.’
Scarlett managed a laugh. ‘Before I go, I have one thing to ask.’
‘Ask you may,’ said Mr Bambuckle.
‘I’ve never been in a class like this before,’ said Scarlett, ‘and I’ve never had a teacher like you, Mr Bambuckle. Could we please do one last fun activity before my parents arrive?’
Mr Bambuckle’s chest filled with pride. His pupil was already demonstrating the positivity she needed to see this day through. ‘You name it, dear Scarlett.’
‘I’ve always loved your creative lessons,’ she said. ‘Can we do one of those? What about ridiculous uses for a stick?’
‘A stick it is,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘Brainstorm away.’
As it turned out, the students had time for a second wonderful lesson. The afternoon sun was dipping on the horizon and Scarlett’s parents were yet to arrive. So Mr Bambuckle improvised under the watchful eye of Miss Frost, who had finished her paperwork and returned to the main camp site.
‘Dear children, now is a splendid time for a game of teamwork charades,’ said the teacher.
‘Is it the same as normal charades?’ asked Damon.
‘Indeed. Though you’ll be working with a partner.’
Miss Frost was taking notes. She was recording everything the teacher did and would be giving a full report to Mr Sternblast at the conclusion of camp.
Mr Bambuckle gestured for Ren and Vinnie to stand up. ‘I’d be delighted if you two would kick things off for us.’
The best friends had a secretive discussion before turning to face their classmates. Vinnie pressed her hands together and then unfolded them.
‘Book,’ said Albert.
Vinnie nodded.
Ren held up two fingers.
‘Two words,’ said Albert.
‘Give someone else a chance, brainiac,’ said Slugger.
‘Sorry,’ said Albert.
Vinnie held up a single finger.
‘Howzat!?’ cried Slugger.
‘She’
s not a cricket umpire,’ said Albert. ‘She wants us to guess the first word.’
‘Oh.’
Vinnie grabbed a bunch of her hair and waved it around.
‘Hair?’
‘Brown?’
‘Curls?’
‘Hairy?’
Vinnie nodded.
‘Okay, hairy.’
Ren held up two fingers.
‘Peace,’ said Slugger.
Albert shook his head. ‘She’s not making the peace symbol, she’s telling us this is the second word.’
‘Ooh, gotcha.’
Ren acted out going to the toilet.
‘Bathroom?’
‘Loo?’
‘Thunder-box?’
‘Pottie?’
Ren nodded.
‘Hairy and pottie.’
‘Hairy Pottie?’
‘Oh, Harry Potter!’
Vinnie and Ren burst out laughing. ‘Yes!’
Damon and Evie were next to have a go. Evie rolled her arm forward, motioning an old-fashioned camera.
‘Movie!’
Damon held up one finger and pointed to Miss Frost.
‘Frozen!’ said Myra. ‘That was too easy.’
‘Very funny,’ whispered Miss Frost. She was clearly unimpressed with the proceedings. ‘I’m not sure what you think the benefits of this nonsensical game are,’ she added, directing a stare at Mr Bambuckle.
Mr Bambuckle chuckled. ‘It’s a most wonderful activity, Miss Frost. You’ll find outcomes CM13-C, TM4-A and PD5-B have been fully covered in just five minutes.’
Miss Frost flicked through her notes. ‘This is absurd. What sort of teacher ticks off outcomes with tomfoolery like this?’
‘Let me ask you this instead,’ said Mr Bambuckle. ‘What sort of adults do we want our students to become? You’ll find the outcomes covered include communication, teamwork and persistence … If you’re having trouble finding them, that is.’
Miss Frost tightened her lips. She knew the teacher was right. ‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘You may continue to play.’
Slugger and Carrot were up next, the latter indicating the pair would be acting out another film.
‘Two words.’
Carrot held up a single finger.
‘First word.’
The orange-haired boy pointed to the sky and wiggled his fingers delicately.
‘Stars?’
‘Star?’
Carrot nodded, satisfied with his well-executed mime.
Slugger held up two fingers.
‘Second word.’
The hulking food enthusiast pretended to attack. He raised his arms and grabbed hold of Carrot’s shoulders. Carrot retaliated by throwing a slow-motion punch, which Slugger ducked.
Victoria giggled.
Slugger then threw a slow-motion punch of his own. Carrot swayed backwards to the chuckles of his classmates. Slugger followed up with a clumsy roundhouse kick, which made him lose his balance. He toppled over and landed on Carrot, who had unfortunately mistimed his evasive roll.
‘Amazing fight sequence,’ squealed Myra. ‘Wars! It’s Star Wars!’
Carrot raised a thumb from somewhere underneath Slugger.
The class burst out laughing and the boys stood up, though not before a pair of particularly sharp scissors fell from one of Slugger’s pockets.
Miss Frost glanced between the scissors and Mr Bambuckle. ‘Those are clearly not school-regulated scissors,’ she said. ‘How interesting … A teacher permitting students to carry dangerous items at camp.’
Slugger gaped at the scissors on the ground. ‘You don’t understand, I –’
‘Quiet,’ said Miss Frost. She shot a fierce look towards Mr Bambuckle, clearly more concerned with the impact this could have on him.
The assistant principal scribbled in her folder. This incident, she knew, was the perfect ammunition for Mr Sternblast. She stood up abruptly. ‘I must report this at once. I’ll be in my car if anyone needs me.’
Slugger furrowed his brows and turned to Mr Bambuckle, ashamed the scissors had caused such a commotion. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.’
Mr Bambuckle’s blue jacket twinkled in the evening light. ‘I believe you have some explaining to do,’ said the kindly teacher. ‘Now is the time to be honest.’
Someone planted the scissors in my pocket. I don’t know anything about them.
Come on, Slugger, tell the truth.
The devil made me do it. He forced me to put the scissors in my pocket against my will.
Mr Bambuckle can tell you’re not being honest, Slugger.
The scissors actually fell out of Carrot’s pocket. It was an optical illusion that made it look like they fell from mine.
Tell the teacher the facts. You can do it.
Okay, okay. I’ll be frank. I’m a hit-man hairdresser. I’ve been trying to chop off Carrot’s hair. Vex hired me as part of some sick revenge plan. That’s the honest truth.
Finally, it’s off my chest. I can breathe easy.
It all started when Vex approached me before we left for camp. He was holding a wad of fifty-dollar notes.
‘What are you doing with so much cash?’ I asked.
‘Shh, keep your voice down,’ said Vex. ‘I have a proposal for you.’
I was flattered. ‘Thanks, but I don’t particularly want to marry you.’
‘Not that type of proposal, dimwit,’ said Vex.
‘Oh.’
‘I want you to take out Carrot Grigson.’
‘That would be fun,’ I said. ‘I love going out places. It’ll be nice to spend some quality time with him, and there’s a restaurant I’ve been dying to try.’
Vex rolled his eyes. ‘Not that sort of taking out. I mean taking out taking out. You know, make it look like an accident.’
‘You want me to accidentally take Carrot to a restaurant?’
Vex ran an agitated hand through his dark hair. ‘Are you thick or something? No, I want you to get Carrot. I want you to chop his hair off. I want him to feel the embarrassment I felt before the drone race. Dad’s been teaching me the importance of dominance, and I’ve been biding my time with this plan. Carrot made me lose my hair, and now it’s time for him to experience the same humiliation.’
‘Oh.’
‘So, are you in?’ said Vex. He waved the money in front of my face.
‘Not for me, thank you very much,’ I said. ‘I need to report you to Mr Sternblast immediately.’
Slugger, Slugger, Slugger. Don’t drift from the truth.
Sorry, that’s not what happened.
‘Yeah, I might be interested in a job like that,’ I said. ‘How much?’
‘Six hundred bucks,’ said Vex. ‘I swiped it from my dad’s wallet. He won’t miss it. You know, three car yards and everything. Plus, I reckon he owes me even more with all the overtime I’ve been doing.’
I stared at the cash. ‘Six hundred bucks … That’s almost half a thousand.’
Vex slapped his forehead. ‘It’s more than that, nincompoop. Half a thousand is five hundred. Six hundred is sixty per cent, which is more than half … Look, I haven’t got time for a stupid maths lesson. I’m tired enough as it is from working all night at the car yard. I just need to know … Are you in or out?’
‘I’m in,’ I said. ‘It should be pretty easy to do at camp.’
Vex handed me three hundred dollars. ‘Half now, then half when you chop Carrot’s hair.’
‘What about the other half?’ I said.
Vex groaned in annoyance.
‘You really want to get him, don’t you?’ I said.
A dark look flashed across Vex’s face. ‘You don’t know the trouble it’s caused me, that whole drone debacle. Dad still hasn’t forgiven me for getting caught cutting the wires in Carrot’s project. An eye for an eye, a haircut for a haircut.’
I thumbed through the fifty-dollar notes. ‘Okay, half now and half later. And half when –’
‘
There are only two halves!’ said Vex. ‘It’s a deal.’ He slid a pair of sharp scissors into my hands. ‘You can use these,’ he added. ‘Otherwise, feel free to be creative.’
‘I need someone to take the wheel for a moment. Slugger, would you be so kind?’
I have to admit, it was nice to be offered the job of driving the bus. Not many teachers let their students do stuff like that. Mr Bambuckle puts a lot of faith in us.
Sliding into the driver’s seat brought back memories of the day I taxied a school bus. The government had made a mistake which meant kids could drive. It was a crazy day!
So, on the bus to camp my driving skills flooded back like … a flood. Sorry, I’m not very good at similes.
Mr Bambuckle stood at the door. ‘I have an urgent matter to attend to. Slugger, would you please?’ He tapped the glass door.
‘Open it?’ I said. What on earth was the teacher planning to do?
I tried to play it cool, but there were so many buttons on the dash and they were all different to the other bus I’d driven. I fumbled around until I hit the right one.
Mr Bambuckle casually stepped out of the moving vehicle and everyone started to freak out.
I could see Carrot in the rearview mirror. He was sitting close to an open window on the left-hand side of the bus. With his face pressed up to the glass, some of his hair was poking outside.
I remembered my deal with Vex.
Mr Bambuckle stepped back onto the bus with Dodger. The blue jay fluttered around for a while and I noticed my classmates were distracted. It was the perfect opportunity for me to get Carrot. If I drove the bus close enough to something sharp outside, I might have been able to clip off some of his hair.
I veered off the road and lined up the left side of the bus with a huge twisted gum tree. With a bit of luck, Carrot’s hair might snag on the low-hanging branches.
Dodger looped around inside the bus. ‘He really is a beautiful bird,’ I said, glancing over my shoulder. It was the best I could come up with to make it seem like I was distracted. I had to make it look like an accident.
‘He most certainly is,’ agreed Mr Bambuckle, speaking of Dodger’s beauty. ‘And, Slugger, keep an eye on the road as you’re no longer on it.’