I glanced around the class. A few kids grimaced at the mention of intestines, but they were still fascinated.
‘You see, that’s what Klinsmann’s disease does,’ Aiden continued. ‘It makes it impossible for me to digest food in the way that everyone else can. I could eat an apple, for example, and it would just sit in my stomach. If I ate more, then I would start to feel very uncomfortable. Pain would follow. But most importantly, even with food in my stomach, I’d be starving to death.’ He smiled. ‘That’s not a very good thing, by the way.’ A couple of the kids laughed.
‘So this is what I eat,’ said Aiden. He pulled his dinner flask from his schoolbag and poured a small amount of mush into a bowl that Mr Meredith must have found for him. There was a collective groan of disgust as the green paste settled at the bottom of the bowl. Aiden picked it up and took it to the desk that Charlotte and I shared.
‘Pass it around,’ he said. ‘I know it looks gross, but you could eat it if you want …’ There was another groan. ‘Smell it. Go on, it won’t smell of anything. But it contains everything I need to survive. All the minerals, the calories, the vitamins necessary for survival, but in a form I can digest. Yes?’
A boy towards the back – I hadn’t learned his name yet – had his hand in the air. I almost laughed. They were treating Aiden like he was a teacher. I suppose in some ways he was.
‘Is that goo all you can eat? I mean, ever?’
‘That’s it,’ said Aiden. ‘And for the rest of my life. So next time you have a pizza or scrambled eggs or even just a plain round of toast, think of me. I can never eat any of that. That goo is, for me, breakfast, lunch and dinner. And afternoon snack.’
Mr Meredith had his hand in the air and the whole class laughed.
‘Yes, Mr Meredith?’ said Aiden when the laughter had died down.
‘So why do you have to go to hospital for operations if that stuff provides all your dietary needs?’
‘Because the human intestine wasn’t designed for this. After a while there’s a build-up of … residue, I guess you’d call it. And if left alone it would clog my gut and stop the digestive process, even for the “goo”.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Mr Meredith. ‘An exceptionally good and interesting presentation, Aiden.’
I was disappointed. I wanted Aiden’s presentation to go on forever, so I didn’t have to get up there. Surely the teacher should’ve allowed a few more questions? But he didn’t. The class gave a round of applause as Aiden walked back to his seat.
My turn.
I stood in front of everyone, but I tried to keep my eyes focused on the top of the window frame at the back of the class. Two minutes had never seemed such a long time. The silence was absolute and that just made me more nervous. I swayed a bit, putting my weight on one leg and then shifting it to the other.
‘Ermm,’ I said. ‘My name is Ashleigh, Ash for short, and what makes me stand out from the crowd is the home I live in. It’s more beautiful and more expensive than most people can imagine and I’m going to describe it to you …’
No one applauded when I finished, but at least I got to nearly two minutes. I was so grateful to finally sit down.
Mum’s first flight was cancelled because of severe weather in Melbourne, but she was able to get a later one. She had a car waiting for her at the airport in Sydney and Aiden and I were allowed to stay up late for her return, though after the lecture we’d had I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to.
As it turned out, most of her anger had evaporated over time. She made it plain that she was still upset with us, but it was more disappointment now.
Dad asked about the conference and she told us that there had been good advances on the use of artificial intelligence in helping some developing countries deal with the effects of climate change. She and Dad had a good chat about it, but I didn’t pay a huge amount of attention because it was, to be strictly honest, a bit boring.
Finally, I got the opportunity to bring up the subject I’d been dying to ask about.
‘Mum? You said something about a school camp and that we probably wouldn’t be allowed to go, but Aiden and I don’t know anything about it. What’s the camp?’
For a moment I thought Mum was going to tell us to mind our own business, that she and Dad were still going to talk about it and leave us totally in suspense. In fact I could almost see those thought processes flit across her face. But then she obviously decided to put us out of our misery.
‘When your father and I enrolled you at school, they said they had a camp planned. In about four weeks, as it turns out. The expectation was that you would both go along.’
Aiden and I looked at each other. Going away without Mum and Dad, with Mr Meredith and the other kids from our class? That sounded beyond awesome.
‘And?’ I asked.
‘It’s a five-day camp in the Blue Mountains. Hiking, a bit of horseriding, apparently, and some kayaking. The school has a building up there, very secure against any bad weather that might blow in, as well as trained outback specialists who can keep you safe from wildlife and even gather food if necessary. That’s unlikely though, since they take all the comforts with them.’
Dad took over.
‘Your class teacher goes with you, as well as a nurse and some pretty tough guys who act as bodyguards in case you meet people who … well, who might not be the kind of people you’d want to meet. We were assured it’s entirely safe, that everyone has the best time, that you’ll fish and barbecue and tell stories over camp fires.’ He glanced at Mum. ‘It’d better be special, given it costs an arm and a leg.’
‘Can we go, please? Please?’ I knew Aiden wouldn’t beg. He’s the kind who’ll take his punishment without complaint, but I’m made of different stuff. This sounded totally brilliant and I’d beg on my hands and knees if I had to.
‘We haven’t decided yet,’ said Dad. ‘We told you. Your mum and I are going to discuss it and as you well know, she’s barely been home five minutes.’
‘We’re so sorry that Aiden did what he did,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that right, Aiden?’ I think he nodded. ‘We’ll be good as gold, I swear. And this is not an opportunity that comes up very often.’ That was an understatement. I’d never had an opportunity like this.
‘Your father said we’ll talk about it,’ said Mum. ‘Now go to bed, the pair of you. Any more arguing about it, Ashleigh, and I can guarantee that you won’t be going. You’ve said good as gold, so put up or shut up. Better still, both.’
I shut up.
That night I let Aiden hold my hand and later I dreamed of camp fires and toasting marshmallows and horseriding and kayak rides through white water. I was smiling as I slept. I know because when I woke up to a morning charged with thunderclouds my face was aching.
5
The tablet-free week dragged on, but it eventually ended.
The first thing I did was look up Xena on the internet. The only reference was to a very old television show about a warrior princess and I guessed the girl in the park had chosen the name for that reason. She was in charge of her group and, judging by the way she put that boy down – what was his name again? Ziggy? – then she was also a warrior and everyone was scared of her. But that’s where the resemblance ended. The pictures of the actor from the television show showed someone with long dark hair and a short leather skirt. It was a strange outfit for a warrior who, you’d think, would want to protect her flesh rather than exposing it. Still …
Charlotte was allowed to come for a sleepover on the following Friday night, which was brilliant. Mum and Dad said I couldn’t go to her place because I still couldn’t be trusted, but I didn’t really want to go to hers anyway. I wanted Charlotte to see our house. I showed her round and watched the way her eyes grew bigger as we went from room to room. We finished with a swim, just the two of us. Aiden kept right out of the way. Charlotte wasn’t a very good swimmer – it was difficult to get much practice if you didn’t own your own pool – so I was able to i
mpress her with my skill.
After dinner, where Dad really showed off by doing a fruit pavlova for dessert, using eggs that Kentucky had laid only that morning and oranges from the tree in the garden, we picked some books from the library and went to bed early. Dad had changed Aiden’s sheets (he was going to be sleeping in one of the guest rooms) and Charlotte and I lay and talked. We were never going to do much reading. One of the best things was that I knew Charlotte would be talking about my house to all the other girls in the class on Monday. It wouldn’t surprise me if everyone wanted to be my friend … I mean, who wouldn’t want to go swimming in a temperature-controlled pool and not have to share it with anyone except me? I’d have to be very careful about who I chose to be a friend. I didn’t want girls who were shallow and just going to use me.
We talked about boys. I was shocked to find Charlotte had a crush on Daniel, the boy who’d asked Aiden a question during the oral presentation. He didn’t seem very smart to me.
‘He isn’t,’ said Charlotte when I mentioned this, ‘but he’s so cute.’
Was he? I hadn’t realised. Maybe I wasn’t paying enough attention to these things.
‘Who do you think’s hot?’ she asked.
I pretended to give this some thought, but really I thought most of them were … well, boys. The others were … well, dull boys.
‘I don’t want to say,’ I replied after a decent enough pause. Charlotte laughed.
‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘Is it Jason Bridges?’
Jason Bridges? He had pimples and a huge nose. Should I find him cute?
‘I don’t want to say,’ I repeated, but I gave a small smile that I hoped would pass as mysterious.
The strangest part of our conversation came when we were basically falling asleep, the books slipping part way off the beds.
‘Your brother is amazing,’ said Charlotte, her voice woolly with tiredness. ‘He could have any girl in the class as his girlfriend.’
Really? That woke me up. Something I wouldn’t have thought about in a million years. Not surprisingly.
‘He’s cute,’ Charlotte continued. ‘But it’s his personality that’s the most attractive thing about him.’
This conversation was becoming weirder by the moment. I hadn’t realised Aiden had a personality. I mean, I know he does, but it didn’t seem anything out of the ordinary. I kept quiet.
‘It’s his … devotion to you. The way he looks after you, the way he’s always checking if you’re okay.’ She sighed. ‘I’d give anything to have someone who felt that way about me. You are so lucky, Ash.’
Lucky? Aiden’s devotion normally irritated me, but if Charlotte thought I was lucky, then maybe I needed to give this more consideration. But it was the next thing she said that really threw me.
‘Some of the kids in the class think you’re really mean about Aiden, you know?’ I didn’t know. I wasn’t mean to him, so how could they think that? And which kids? ‘They think you take him for granted, ignore him. Think only about yourself.’ She propped herself on an elbow and looked over the gap between beds at me. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that, Ash. It’s just some of the bitchy girls. But I wouldn’t be any kind of friend if I didn’t tell you what other people think, even if it’s people who aren’t important. Do you know what I mean?’
I nodded, but I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying. People thought I was mean and selfish? How could they?
We talked a little bit more, about Mr Meredith and the school camp, but her comments had cut me, and though I tried to keep my voice normal, my emotions were bleeding. In the end, I said something and she didn’t reply. A few seconds later, I heard her breathing turn rough, like her throat was grating the air.
I could sleep through her snoring. If I could sleep through cyclones I could sleep through her snoring. But I lay awake for the longest time, considering the strange idea that other people might not see me the way I saw myself.
It was troubling.
Mum and Dad agreed that we could go on the school camp. I knew they would, but we had to go through a long period of time where we didn’t know for sure. It was part of our punishment. The days before the trip were charged with excitement at school. No one knew what to expect because it was only for our year group and no one had any older siblings, obviously, who could tell them what it was like.
But they’d heard stories.
The night before, Aiden and I packed our bags with Mum and Dad supervising. It was mainly a matter of making sure we had clothing to cope with all kinds of weather conditions, but that was something we were used to. Quite a bit of available space was taken up with Aiden’s food. All of us normal kids were being catered for at the camp, but clearly he had to take along everything he was going to eat. The only slight problem was that Aiden was due to go into hospital for one of his routine procedures, but Mum and Dad agreed that he could do that once we got back from the excursion.
We took two books each. There was no point taking tablets. We’d been told that there wouldn’t be reception where we were going.
Mum and Dad drove us to school on the Monday morning of the trip and it was chaotic outside the building. Everyone else’s parents were there and bags were strewn all over the place and people were hugging each other and there were people with clipboards and people in uniform and … Well, it was enough to take your breath away.
‘Have the best time, kiddlypunks,’ said Mum. She had a meeting and couldn’t hang around to say goodbye when we actually left. That was okay. At least she said it quietly and left with a minimum of fuss. Dad went at the same time.
Then the coach turned up. It was amazing. It looked like a normal coach, but I knew from Mum and Dad talking about it that it was state of the art. There were steel shutters that could cover the windows in case of an unexpected event and apparently it was more like a tank than a regular coach. You could fall off a cliff and be safe, though I hoped that wouldn’t be tested.
There was so much paperwork to be filled out, but finally everything was in order and we boarded the coach. Charlotte was a little ahead of me in the queue and as I went past she patted the seat next to her. I stopped, thus blocking the gangway and making everyone behind me stop as well.
‘Thanks Charlotte,’ I said, ‘but I think I’ll sit with Aiden. I mean, I won’t have much chance to be with him when we’re all in our dormitories.’ I spoke quite loudly and the bus had an echo to it. Aiden seemed a little surprised. He turned and gave me a bit of a strange look. But it was obvious he was pleased.
We sat towards the back of the coach and he tried to hold my hand but I wasn’t having any of that. It’s not like we were six years old.
Mr Meredith walked up and down the coach, yet another clipboard in his hand, checking off names one last time. Or so I supposed. He gave us a smile as he passed.
‘Excited?’ he said.
I was going to try to be cool, but then thought it wouldn’t make any difference.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Very.’
‘Good. You should be.’
And then he was gone, ticking boxes on his clipboard.
Finally, we set off. We even had a proper driver, a man with a peaked cap who smiled at all of us before taking his seat at the front and starting the engine.
We drove away from the school and down Albert Street, towards the park. As we swept by it, I thought I saw a small girl sitting under a Moreton Bay fig in the furthest corner. But it was a long way away and it might have been my imagination.
The journey took just over an hour and a half and we spent all of the time glued to the windows watching the landscape as it scrolled past. Aiden swapped seats with me so I could get the best view and I made sure I thanked him. It was probably the longest journey we’d taken since we moved to Sydney three years ago and I’d forgotten most of that.
There was hardly any traffic on the road and a good few of the suburbs we passed seemed as if they’d seen better days. Some buildings
were abandoned and crumbling, but whether that was due to neglect or the result of an occasional tornado was impossible to say.
It didn’t take too long before we left all buildings behind and started to see more of the countryside. Like parts of Sydney, some places appeared to be green and flourishing, while others were a bit sad. But it was all so strange that none of it mattered. The driver put music on and it wasn’t long before everyone was singing and clapping. It was obvious that my classmates were as excited as me.
Eventually, we took a side road and bumped over an uneven, potholed track for a couple of kilometres. All the kids groaned as we hit a bump and we made a game of who could groan the loudest, so that by the time we stopped the coach was ringing with the sound of kids moaning and laughing. It was so much fun. But then, as we realised we’d reached our destination, we stopped, and the silence was deafening. We all peered out the window.
The coach had stopped in a fenced clearing in front of a large wooden building with a wraparound verandah. There was one door, close to where we’d stopped, flanked by a few barred windows. I was on the side of the coach furthest from the building and when I looked to my right I saw a man in uniform close the chain link gates and lock them. I hadn’t even realised we’d come through any gates.
We stayed on board for another five minutes while Mr Meredith and a couple of the security guards checked the building and the grounds. We’d been told to call the guards ‘camp assistants’, but that didn’t really fool anyone, mainly because they were all large and unsmiling and had guns in holsters around their waists. I imagined they were checking the place in case anyone had broken in, though we were so far from civilisation that it seemed unlikely anyone would have made the trek. Then again, there was apparently five days’ worth of food for twenty-five kids stashed in there, not to mention medicines and other luxury items, so it would’ve been an attractive target for thieves. Anyway, it seemed the coast was clear because Mr Meredith stepped up into the coach and addressed us.
Catch Me If I Fall Page 4