Very Popular Me

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Very Popular Me Page 4

by James O'Loghlin


  So if I didn’t want to be Miss Lee’s favourite anymore, I just had to show her I wasn’t who she thought I was.

  13

  BAD BOY

  The first step was to change my appearance. If I wanted Miss Lee to stop thinking I was great, I had to look like a bad boy, so before class, I messed up my hair, untucked my shirt and tried to look all bored and uncaring like Johnny Wilson.

  Next, I had to make sure that whatever work Miss Lee gave us, I did badly – again, like Johnny Wilson.

  I wondered if maybe Johnny Wilson was actually super-smart, but pretended not to be so everyone would think he was cool. Surely he wasn’t smart enough to do that. Or was he? No, he wasn’t. The other day Miss Lee asked him what the biggest city in North America was and he said New Yawn. Then she asked him what the capital of Australia was. Lots of kids didn’t know it’s Canberra, but Miss Lee gave Johnny a hint by telling him it was the city we all lived in, and he still didn’t get it.

  In class, Miss Lee told us to write a story about ‘My Perfect Sunday’. I knew she’d ask me to read mine out, so I wrote something that I hoped would change her opinion of me.

  MISS LEE: All right. Pens down. Now let’s hear some of them. Sam, you go first.

  JOHNNY WILSON: (UNDER HIS BREATH) That’d be right. Perfect little Sam.

  (OTHER KIDS GIGGLE. SAM STANDS UP.)

  SAM: My Perfect Sunday. I’d go down to the train tracks and do graffiti on the carriages. Not with permanent marker, obviously, but it’s still naughty. Then I’d see some kids and shout mean stuff at them like, ‘I don’t like your hat’ and ‘Your shorts are too big’. Then I’d throw a rock at someone’s window! (PAUSE) Okay, not a rock because that might break it, maybe a pair of socks or some grapes. For lunch I’d eat chips and lollies and no vegetables! Except maybe carrots, but only ’cos I like carrots, not ’cos they’re good for you. Then I’d be rude to Mum and do no homework ’cos homework sucks. (QUICKLY) Unless there was a big test the next day, then maybe I’d do a bit of study, but definitely not much. And I’d stay up REALLY late. Like, nine o’clock! Or even quarter past nine. (PAUSE) Sam out.

  EVERYONE: (STUNNED SILENCE)

  MISS LEE: Oh, Sam, that’s so moving and clever. I love how you wrote it in the voice of a lost young man. Someone who’s clearly very diff erent from you. And you even untucked your shirt to get in character. That’s very advanced. I’m so impressed.

  SAM: No, but . . .

  JOHNNY WILSON: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Teacher’s pet.

  (EVERYONE GIGGLES)

  At lunchtime, Amy came up to me. It was a difficult time for me, what with becoming the teacher’s pet and losing Swirly, and I was lucky to have her support.

  SAM: (LEAPS TO HIS FEET) Hi. I’m ready to walk around together. What do you think of eye makeup? And we didn’t finish our interesting discussion about climate change. I’m very concerned about it So, lots to talk about.

  AMY: Ahhh ... yeah. Look, sorry, it’s not working out. You’re dropped.

  SAM: Huh.

  AMY: I can’t go out with the teacher’s pet. It’ll wreck my reputation. I shouldn’t even be seen with you. (LOOKS AROUND) Is Julia watching?

  SAM: But can’t we work things out?

  AMY: No. You’re doomed. You get that, right? There’s no need to drag me down with you. That’d be selfish.

  SAM: (SOFTLY) But . . .

  AMY: Anyway, I don’t think we were really connecting on a deep level. I mean, ‘Ponies. Awesome or overrated?’ Come on. Plus, we’re only in primary school.

  SAM: (SOFTLY) Will we still be friends?

  AMY: Come on. We were never friends. You probably don’t even know what my favourite colour is. Besides, you’re a boy. So, no. Bye.

  With that she turned, walked off and exited my life, just as suddenly as she’d entered it. Amy had turned my world upside down and now she was gone, leaving an aching void. My first romantic relationship was over. It had lasted just over a week, and I’d pretty much had nothing to do with any of it.

  But I knew why it had ended. Being the teacher’s pet had cost me the love of my life . . . or at least the cool points that come with having a girlfriend. Still, on the bright side, at least now I could play handball at lunch again.

  I walked up to the courts where Oscar, Will and Max were playing. On the next court Johnny Wilson was playing with his mates.

  SAM: Can I play?

  JOHNNY WILSON: Shouldn’t you be cleaning the whiteboard, Sam? You know, for Miss Lee.

  JOHNNY WILSON’S MATES: Ha, ha, ha!

  SAM: Whatever. (TO OSCAR) Can I join in?

  OSCAR: (GLANCES OVER AT JOHNNY WILSON, THEN TO SAM) Ah, kinda full.

  SAM: There’s only three of you. We always play with four.

  OSCAR: We’re kinda in the middle of a game.

  SAM: I’ll wait till you finish.

  OSCAR: Be a while, though, because we just started.

  SAM: (FROWNS) I thought you said you were in the middle of a game.

  (AWKWARD SILENCE)

  They obviously didn’t want me to play, so I trudged off. Behind me, I heard Johnny Wilson say, ‘Maybe he can play handball with Miss Lee.’

  Johnny Wilson’s mates laughed. And so did Oscar, Will and Max.

  I clenched my jaw and felt in my pocket for Swirly but, of course, she was gone, along with all the popularity she had brought me. Sure, it had all been fake because everyone had just wanted my marble, but fake popularity was better than none at all. I wished Gary hadn’t persuaded me to give her up.

  Only a few days ago I’d had Swirly, a girlfriend and a group of friends. Now they were all gone. All I had left was Gary. I was right back to where I started when I was the new kid.

  14

  A TWO-LEGGED SURPRISE

  That night Dad was going to be home late because he’d flown to Melbourne for the day. (On a plane, obviously. He’s not a superhero.)

  MUM: Oh, Samuel, I’m so pregnant now, I can hardly do anything. Will you help with the washing up? You can learn how!

  Uh-oh. If I did it properly then Mum would ask me to do it all the time. Time to become . . . DA-DA-DAR . . . INCOMPETENT MAN! INCAPABLE OF HELPING! ABLE TO FAIL AT EVEN THE SIMPLEST HOUSEHOLD TASK! LOOK! IN THE KICTHEN. IT’S CLUMSY. IT’S HOPELESS. IT’S . . . INCOMPETENT MAN!

  MUM: (AS SHE WASHES THE DISHES) Grab a tea towel.

  SAM: (LOOKING AROUND UNCERTAINLY) Where would I find a . . . what are they called?

  MUM: Tea towel. Top drawer.

  SAM: What drawer?

  MUM: Top drawer. Now, when you . . .

  SAM: This drawer?

  MUM: Yes! The top drawer. Now, when you . . .

  SAM: I can’t see any tea towels.

  MUM: Honestly, Samuel. They’re right there.

  SAM: Here?

  MUM: Yes! Ow!

  MUM: (PUTS HAND ON TUMMY) Nothing.

  SAM: (GRABS TEA TOWEL) Why are they called tea towels? You dry dishes with them, don’t you, not tea?

  MUM: It’s just a name.

  SAM: (HOLDS UP TEA TOWEL AND STARES AT IT) Are they made of tea?

  MUM: No. I’ll wash, you dry.

  (MUM STARTS WASHING DISHES)

  SAM: (PICKS UP DISH RACK) So, I dry this?

  MUM: No! The dishes. Ow!

  SAM: Are you sure you’re okay?

  MUM: I’d be more okay if you were more helpful with the dishes. Come on.

  SAM: (UNCERTAINLY PICKS UP A DISH AND STARTS TO DRY IT) Like this?

  MUM: (IMPATIENTLY) Yes, like that.

  SAM: (NEARLY DROPS DISH) Whoops! They’re all wet!

  MUM: Of course they’re wet! I just washed them. That’s why you’re drying them!

  (THREE MINUTES LATER)

  MUM: You’ve only done two dishes and a glass, Samuel!

  SAM: My arms are tired. I did a lot of writing at school.

  MUM: (PICKS UP A ‘DRIED’ DISH) This one’s still wet! Oh, it’d be easier if I did it myself. Honestly, Samuel! You’re n
ot helpful at all. AHHHHH!

  SAM: You don’t have to scream at me.

  MUM: (COLLAPSES AGAINST THE WALL AND STARTS SLIDING DOWN IT) ARRRGGGGHH!

  SAM: Okay, I’m sorry.

  MUM: ERRRGGGG!

  SAM: Mum?

  MUM: ARRRRGGGGGHHH! Bay . . . bee . . .

  SAM: Wha—

  MUM: Baby!

  SAM: (VERY QUICKLY, PANICKING) No, no, no.

  It can’t be the baby because the baby’s not due until next week. And Dad needs to be here for the baby and he’s not here, so it definitely can’t be the baby.

  MUM: (PANTING) BAY . . . BEE!!

  SAM: It’s the baby. What do I do? Call Dad. (DIALS NUMBER)

  DAD’S VOICE: Hi . . .

  SAM: Dad. Mum’shavingthebaby. Whatdoldo?

  DAD’S VOICE: . . . You’ve reached the answering machine of Henry Mulligan. Did you know that the world’s first answering machine went on sale in 1949? Please leave a message.

  SAM: Dad! Mum’s havingthebaby. Help!

  MUM: Ahhhhh!

  SAM: (HANGS UP PHONE) Hospital. Gotta get her to hospital. Mum. Can you drive?

  MUM: (CURLS UP IN A BALL ON THE FLOOR) Ohhhhh!

  SAM: I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Could I drive? I could try. How hard can it be?

  MUM: Taxi!

  SAM: (QUICKLY) Great idea. Actually, Uber’s cheaper. Do you have the Uber app? Where’s your phone. Password. 222222. Very tricky. (SCROLLS AROUND) No Uber app. Okay, we can download it from the app store. All you do is . . .

  MUM: TAXI!! NOW!

  SAM: Right. Yes. Taxi. In contacts.

  (SAM DIALS TAXI NUMBER)

  SAM: Hi. Mum’s having a baby. Hurry . . . What? Look, I don’t have time to answer your silly questions! Just hurry! . . . Please, just stop talking and get here! . . . What? Oh, you need the address. Sorry. Fourteen Hunter Street, Deakin. Sorry. (HANGS UP) They’re coming.

  We staggered outside into the dark, Mum’s arm around my shoulders. Soon the taxi arrived and we collapsed into the back.

  SAM: Hospital. Quick!

  TAXI DRIVER: (STARTS DRIVING) Which hospital?

  SAM: Mum?

  MUM: Saint . . . ARRGGHARR!

  TAXI DRIVER: Saint Argar? What suburb’s that in?

  MUM: ARRHHHH!

  SAM: Umm, just go to the nearest hospital that starts with Saint.

  MUM: OOOWWWWW!

  SAM: Actually, just the nearest hospital.

  TAXI DRIVER: Do you know where that would be? It’s actually my first day driving a taxi and I just moved to Canberra.

  SAM: Oh, no. Use the GPS thingy on your phone. TAXI DRIVER: Good thinking. (STARTS POKING AT THE GPS THINGY)

  SAM: Roundabout!

  TAXI DRIVER: (SLAMS ON BRAKES) Geez! Sorry.

  SAM: I’ll look at the GPS thingy. (SAM CLIMBS INTO THE FRONT SEAT AND FIDDLES WITH THE GPS THINGY)

  TAXI DRIVER: I think you’ve got it upside down.

  MUM: IT’S COMING! NOW!

  SAM: No, Mum. That’s a bad idea. Can’t you hold on for a bit? You know, like you tell me to do when we’re in the car and I need a wee.

  MUM: Ahhhhhh!

  SAM: There’s a dentist. Could they help?

  TAXI DRIVER: Wrong end, mate. It’s closed anyway.

  SAM: (POINTS) What about there?

  TAXI DRIVER: A butcher?

  SAM: Okay, bad idea. (LOOKS AT SHOPS AS THEY PASS) Newsagent. Hairdresser. Supermarket. Twenty-four-hour vet! STOP!

  As the taxi stopped, I jumped out and rushed into the vet, where a few people sat holding pets. Behind the counter was a woman.

  SAM: Where’s the vet?

  RECEPTIONIST: (INDICATES DOOR) Through there, but you need to make an appoi—

  (SAM RUSHES INTO THE VET’S SURGERY. INSIDE, AN OLD WOMAN HOLDS A CAT WHILE A MAN IN A WHITE COAT LOOKS AT ITS PAW.)

  SAM: She’s having a baby!

  VET: Who? Cat? Dog?

  SAM: Mum!

  VET: That’s right. When she has the baby she’ll be a Mum. Very good, but I need to know what species we’re talking about?

  SAM: Human.

  VET: (ALARMED) Human?

  SAM: It’s my mum. It’s coming now!

  VET: Oh, dear. I don’t . . .

  (TAXI DRIVER ENTERS HALF-CARRYING, HALF-DRAGGING MUM)

  OLD WOMAN: (TO TAXI DRIVER) Excuse me.

  The vet’s looking after Gandalf’s sore paw.

  You can’t just push in.

  TAXI DRIVER: Tell the baby that. (TO VET) Where do you want her?

  VET: (NERVOUSLY) I’ve never delivered a human before. I mainly do puppies and kittens.

  TAXI DRIVER: A human should be easier. Two less legs.

  MUM: AHHHHHH!

  VET: Oh, boy. Let’s get her on the table. (TO OLD WOMAN) I’m sorry, Mrs Wentworth. Wait outside, please.

  OLD WOMAN: But . . .

  VET: (TO SAM) Young man, you wait outside too. I’ll do my best.

  Mrs Wentworth picked up her cat reluctantly and headed for the door. I followed, relieved that someone else was now in charge. But then I looked back at Mum and she looked so alone and scared.

  I couldn’t let her have the baby with only a vet and a taxi driver for company. Mum always acted like she had to do everything for me, but now, for once, she needed me.

  ‘I’ll stay,’ I said.

  I’ll spare you the details, but I kept telling Mum she could do it and trying not to scream when she dug her nails into my leg, even though it really hurt.

  And then, somehow, there was an extra person in the room, a tiny little one that was lying on Mum’s chest, and Mum was looking at her the same way she looked at me when I let her hold my hand in public.

  ‘It’s a female . . . er . . . girl,’ said the vet.

  MUM: (SMILING) Samuel, this is your sister.

  SAM: Whoa!

  MUM: I know.

  VET: I did it! (TO TAXI DRIVER) You were right. Less legs does make it easier. But you should get your wife to the hospital so they can make sure everything’s okay. All I can do is check her for fleas.

  TAXI DRIVER: I’m not her husband.

  VET: Right, sorry. Your partner.

  TAXI DRIVER: Nope. Her taxi driver.

  SAM: Sorry I couldn’t find the hospital, Mum.

  MUM: Samuel, what was the last thing I said to you before this started?

  SAM: (HANGS HEAD) That I wasn’t helpful. Sorry.

  MUM: (GRABS SAM’S HAND) But you were helpful, Samuel. Dad wasn’t there, and you got me here and found someone to deliver the baby and it all worked out. You proved me wrong, didn’t you?

  When Mum said that I felt pretty good, but then the baby started crying and Mum started fussing over her.

  All my life I’d wanted Mum to stop fussing over me and now, with the baby, it looked like that was finally going to happen. I should have been over the moon, but as Mum rocked the baby back and forth, I felt a bit weird.

  TAXI DRIVER: Umm . . . madam, just to be clear . . . er.

  MUM: Yes?

  TAXI DRIVER: The meter’s still running. On the taxi. Man’s got to make a living. Up to you, but given what happened, you might want to think about a tip.

  SAM: I’ve got one. Learn where the hospitals are.

  15

  ALL ABOUT ABBY

  Dad arrived soon after, gave the taxi driver a big tip, then drove us to hospital where they did whatever they do to new mums and babies. The next day Mum and the baby came home.

  ‘We’ve decided to call her Abigail,’ said Mum. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Wow! What a fantastic name!’ I said, because you have to say that. If I’d said, ‘I dunno. It’s just a name,’ Mum would have got upset.

  Besides, everyone would call her Abby. The only person who’d call her Abigail would be Mum, just like she’s the only one who calls me Samuel.

  Mum made me prove I was ‘baby-safe’ by demonstrating my holding technique on the stupid doll and then she carefully passed me
Abby.

  Holding her felt pretty amazing. She looked totally freaked out and startled, which was fair enough. I’d found it hard to move to a new city. She’d just moved into a whole new universe.

  I thought about pretending to almost drop her to freak Mum out, but decided that it probably wasn’t the best time for that joke.

  Over the next few days we had loads of visitors and they all brought presents for Abby. She got three teddy bears, a stuffed giraffe, a stuffed panda, a stuffed cow, a stuffed rabbit, a stuffed snake, a stuffed bee, a stuffed tree and a stuffed banana. I hoped she liked stuffed things.

  Mr Ronson from up the road bought Abby a chess set. Either he didn’t know much about babies, or he thought Abby was some kind of genius.

  Despite my heroic deeds at the birth, no one bought me a present. In fact, everyone seemed to have forgotten I existed. They crowded around Abby, acting like every little thing she did was amazing.

  ABBY: Gaa . . . (BURPS. VOMIT ROLLS DOWN CHIN.)

  VISITOR: Who’s a clever girl?

  MUM: Well done, sweetheart. Sooo clever!

  SAM: Seriously? How’s that clever? If I vomited, you wouldn’t call me clever. If you want to see how clever she is, why don’t you ask her what the capital of France is?

  (EVERYONE IGNORES SAM)

  SAM: (GRUMPILY, MUMBLES) It’s Paris.

  Not only that, Mum was acting like a magpie. She wasn’t quite swooping me yet, but she sure was being protective of Abby.

  (SAM ENTERS LIVING ROOM)

  MUM: (WHISPERING) Samuel! Get out of the room. Abigail’s asleep.

  SAM: I just want to sit and read. I won’t make any noise.

  MUM: (WHISPERING) But what if you drop your book on her?

  SAM: Huh?

  MUM: (WHISPERING) And stop breathing so loudly. Honestly!

  SAM: Oh-kay.

  (PAUSE)

  MUM: (WHISPERING) What’s that noise?

  SAM: I’m breathing as quietly as I can.

  MUM: (WHISPERING) No. It’s outside.

  SAM: (LISTENS) I think it’s just a car driving past.

  MUM: (WHISPERING) It’ll wake Abigail up. Can you stand outside and get the cars to turn off their engines as they go past?

 

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