MISS LEE: (eyes narrow) So . . . you want me to stop giving you good marks?
SAM: I want you to stop making me the teacher’s pet and saying everything I do is great, even when it isn’t. Why don’t I get in trouble when I muck up? Why do I always get early marks? Just treat me like the other kids. Please.
MISS LEE: (DEEP BREATH) Sam, I’m happy to treat you like the other kids, as long as it’s okay with your mother.
SAM: . . . Huh?
MISS LEE: She asked me to take special care of you. She said you were a delicate boy who needed lots of attention, and because of your new baby sister she couldn’t give you as much time as usual. (PAUSE) And then she said that when she was at school, she came top of her year. I’m not sure why she told me that.
When I got home I was furious.
SAM: Mum, why did you tell Miss Lee that I was delicate and ask her to give me special attention?
MUM: She wasn’t supposed to tell you.
SAM: She made it pretty obvious. I handed in an art project that was just Abby smearing food on a piece of paper and she gave me full marks.
MUM: Really? (TO ABBY) Well done, darling. Who’s a clever girl! You’re an artist! You know, I came top of my school and I bet you could . . .
SAM: Mum! She can’t understand you. And you only came top of four kids.
MUM: (STIFFLY) It was six.
SAM: Then one left and another got sick, sooo . . . four.
MUM: I still came top. And you do need special care. You were new to the school this year and you had trouble making friends, so I just asked Miss Lee to look after you and give you some extra attention.
SAM: Well, Miss Lee made me the teacher’s pet, which means that now I have no friends again and it’s all your fault.
MUM: I was worried about you! I don’t have time to look after you properly anymore because of Abigail and I thought that if the teacher helped you it would help, but now it’s all gone wrong and, oh, dear, I’m a terrible mother and I’ve ruined everything.
I could see that Mum felt bad, which made it impossible to stay angry at her, which was irritating because I really wanted to stay angry at her.
SAM: (SIGHS) You’re not a terrible mother.
MUM: It’s just that you’re not my little boy anymore and you’re growing up and we don’t go for walks anymore and I worry about you, Samuel.
SAM: (PUTS ARM AROUND HER) It’s okay, Mum.
MUM: I’m sorry, darling.
SAM: It’s okay.
(LONG SILENCE)
MUM: Samuel?
SAM: Yes, Mum.
MUM: On the weekend, if I get Dad to mind Abby, could we go for a long walk together? Just the two of us.
SAM: What about a short walk to the shops to get a hot chocolate and a brownie?
MUM: Done. Now, how’s your new mobile telephone going? Your very own phone! How exciting! I remember that feeling.
SAM: Did they have phones back then?
MUM: No, but I remember how excited I was when I got my first letter-writing kit! I bet it’s just like that.
SAM: Not really. See, when I said I didn’t want a smartphone with the internet and music and everything, what I actually meant was, I did want a smartphone with the internet and music and everything. If I take the one you gave me to school, everyone’ll laugh at me.
MUM: Well, if anyone laughs at you, you tell me their names and I’ll have a word to their mothers.
SAM: Mum, it doesn’t work like that.
(MUM STARES AT SAM FOR A LONG MOMENT, THEN BURSTS INTO TEARS)
SAM: Mum? What’s the matter?
MUM: You’re not a little boy anymore! You’re all grown up and you don’t need me. First it was going to Woden Plaza by yourself, now it’s a smartphone, and next you’ll be driving a car and getting married and moving to Spain.
SAM: Mum, I’m twelve. Why would I move to Spain?
MUM: Because you’ll probably meet a girl from Spain – or a boy, that’s fine too – and get married and she or he will want to move back to Spain and then I’ll never see my little baby Samuel again. (SOBS)
SAM: (PUTS ARM AROUND HER) Mum. I’m not moving to Spain.
MUM: (SNIFFLES) But they have siestas in Spain. Afternoon naps. You love afternoon naps.
SAM: Not really. Only sometimes on the weekend. I wouldn’t want one every day.
MUM: Really?
SAM: Nah. You wake up feeling all weird. Mum, I’m not moving to Spain. But . . . I am growing up.
MUM: (SNIFFS) I know. And I have to let you grow up. (STARTING TO CRY AGAIN) But I used to love taking you shopping for underpants. That was fun, wasn’t it?
SAM: Not really . . .
MUM: Of course it was fun. All the things we used to do. But now you’re older, and you don’t need me to choose what trousers you wear each day. You have to choose your own trousers.
SAM: Yes, but you’ve got Abby now. You can take her underpants shopping and pick out her clothes. Lucky her!
MUM: But I get so worried about you, Samuel. What if you’re out there in the big wide world on your bicycle and you get lost?
SAM: Mum, I won’t . . .
MUM: I know, I know. I have to let you be more independent. But I get so worried, Samuel.
Then I had a brilliant idea.
SAM: Mum, have you heard of the ‘Find my Phone’ app?
MUM: App?
SAM: App.
MUM: Oh, you mean those applications you can get for your mobile telephone? Like the ‘What Slug Is That?’ one I got for the garden?
SAM: Yeah. They have an app that would show you where my phone was.
MUM: Why would I want to know where your phone was? In case you lost it?
SAM: No, because then you’d know where I was . . . because the phone would be with me. You could check on me whenever you wanted.
MUM: Oh. (PAUSE) But you wouldn’t like me doing that.
SAM: I wouldn’t even know you were doing it. You could check where I was as often as you liked. Would that help?
MUM: I think it would, yes. (EXCITED) Yes! Let’s get that application now. On your mobile telephone.
SAM: You can’t get apps on the phone you got me. You can only get them on smartphones. That’s why they’re called smartphones.
MUM: Is it? I thought it was because they were invented by someone whose last name was ‘Smart.
(FRONT DOOR OPENS AND DAD ENTERS)
DAD: Hello, everyone.
MUM: (QUICKLY) Oh, Henry! Samuel’s all grown up now and he can pick out his own trousers and I don’t comb his hair anymore and he wants to go to that wild Woden Plaza without us, but he told me that I can spy on him and the main thing is that he’s not moving to Spain and he doesn’t even like siestas.
DAD: Well, that’s good to know.
MUM: And we need to buy him a smartphone. Oh, Henry, our little boy is growing up.
DAD: Well, I don’t think he’s quite ready to move out yet. He can’t even wash dishes properly.
MUM: Do you think they’ll give me a refund on the dumb phone? They didn’t tell me it couldn’t get applications. And do you know why they’re called smartphones? It’s because they’re smart!
DAD: I did know that.
MUM: (BEAMS) Well, that means you’re smart too.
DAD: (SMILES) Thank you.
(PAUSE)
MUM: Samuel, go and get me your doll.
SAM: Why?
MUM: Just get it, please.
I went and got the stupid doll from where I’d hidden it under my bed. When I got back, Mum held out her hand.
SAM: You’re not going to show me how to hold Abby safely again, are you?
MUM: (GENTLY) just give it to me.
(SAM HANDS MUM THE DOLL)
MUM: (SMILING) You don’t need a doll. What was I thinking? Look at you. You’re nearly a man. Soon you’ll be driving a car and drinking coffee. (TURNS TO DAD AND BLINKS BACK TEARS) Oh, look at him Henry! He’s nearly a man!
(DAD WALKS OVER
TO MUM AND GIVES HER A HUG. THEY BOTH STARE AT SAM.)
SAM: (WAVES AT THEM) Hi.
MUM: (OPENS ARMS) I know you’re nearly a man now, Samuel, but you can be in the hug too if you like.
26
MAGPIE MUM
Next morning, on the way to school I rode past a magpie in the park, and I remembered how all the teacher’s pet business had been the magpies’ fault because I’d ridden to school early to try and avoid them, and ended up helping Miss Lee on her first day.
Except, it hadn’t really been their fault, because Miss Lee would still have made me her favourite because Mum had asked her to take care of me.
The magpie took a few steps and I got ready to accelerate in case it took off to swoop me, but then it stopped and just stood there.
Dad had told me that baby magpies leave home after only a few weeks, so maybe the reason the magpie wasn’t swooping me was because its babies had gone and it didn’t feel it had to protect them anymore. I wondered if the magpie was worrying about its kids out there in the big wide world, just like Mum did.
I realised it must be pretty scary having kids, especially when they went off without you and you didn’t know what they were doing. No wonder parents acted a bit crazy sometimes, whether it was magpies swooping passers-by, or Mum giving me that stupid doll and asking Miss Lee to look after me.
I wouldn’t quite say that suddenly all the weird stuff that Mum did made perfect sense to me, but as I looked at the magpie, I think I understood Mum a bit better. I decided that the next time she got all clingy or over-protective or weird, I’d try to remind myself that it was just because she loved me.
27
THE GOOD NACHOS
At school, Miss Lee started to treat me more like a normal kid. She stopped giving me full marks for everything and, once when I was daydreaming about beating the wall in tennis when I was supposed to be reading, she even shouted at me.
The school photo helped too. On the morning of the photo, Mum brushed my hair for about half an hour and gave me a perfect, straight part, which was a total waste of time because as soon as I went outside it just popped back up again. They did a photo with the whole school, and I was in the second row next to Johnny Wilson, right behind Miss Lee. As the photo was taken Johnny Wilson did bunny ears behind Miss Lee’s head.
He was going to get in so much trouble.
A few days later we got the photos back, and I stared at the whole school one in horror. Behind Miss Lee’s head were two fingers doing bunny ears, but you couldn’t see whose fingers they were. Behind Miss Lee, on her left was me, smiling, and on her right was Johnny Wilson, who was staring at me, as if I were doing the bunny ears. He’d set me up.
THE BAD NEWS: I got a detention, which meant I had stay in at lunchtime.
THE GOOD NEWS: I got a detention, which proved to everyone I wasn’t the teacher’s pet anymore, and everyone thought I was pretty cool for doing the bunny ears.
THE BAD NEWS: After I’d done the detention, Johnny Wilson told everyone he’d done the bunny ears, so he got the cool points.
Still, the day after the detention, for the first time since I became the teacher’s pet, Oscar came up to me at recess and asked if I had any chocolate biscuits. I knew then that I was on my way back. Sure enough, over the next few days, the other kids gradually stopped shunning me.
Except Gary. We were still avoiding each other, and I still felt bad about hurting him. I tried telling myself he deserved it because of how he’d treated me, but it didn’t help.
I needed to talk to someone about it, but I didn’t want to tell Mum or Dad. So I told the one person I knew who would definitely keep it a secret.
SAM: (EXPLAINS EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED WITH GARY, ENDING WITH) . . . and we haven’t spoken since, and I feel really bad about it.
ABBY: (LYING ON BLANKET) Woogy Gar Gar.
SAM: And now I don’t know what to do.
ABBY: Waga wiggy.
SAM: Should I say sorry? But shouldn’t he say sorry to me for dumping me as a friend?
ABBY: Weeeeee! War Gar.
SAM: (SIGH) I should say sorry.
ABBY: Shlar Doopa.
SAM: Because he’s a good guy. He was my first friend in Canberra.
ABBY: Whummy whum.
SAM: I’m gunna say sorry.
ABBY: Boogoo boogoo.
SAM: Thanks, Abby. That was a big help. Mum’s right. You are clever.
Next day I rode to school early, parked my bike, and waited for Gary at the gate he always came in.
(GARY WALKS THROUGH GATE)
SAM: Hi.
GARY: (EYES NARROW) What do you want?
SAM: About that arm-wrestle . . .
GARY: So you won. Big deal.
SAM: I’m sorry I hurt you.
GARY: You didn’t hurt me.
SAM: What? You . . . (LONG PAUSE) I mean, yeah, I could tell you weren’t really hurt . . .
GARY: I knew that with the teacher’s pet stuff you kinda needed a win, so . . .
SAM: Huh? (THEN HE GETS IT) Oh, so you let me win.
GARY: Yeah, ’course.
SAM: Right. Thanks.
GARY: (SHRUGS) It’s okay.
SAM: And before we started, when you said, ‘You’re going down like a tomato in a lift’ . . . What a classic!
GARY: I’ve been wanting to say it for ages. I made it up.
SAM: Did ya? Cool.
GARY: You can use it if you want.
SAM: Thanks. (PAUSE) Why would a tomato be in a lift?
GARY: (SHRUGS) Maybe someone bought it at the supermarket then caught the lift down to the carpark. Like, an underground carpark.
SAM: Of course, yeah. Anyway, sorry.
GARY: You don’t have to say sorry because it didn’t hurt.
SAM: Right. Sorry.
GARY: I said you don’t have to say ‘sorry’!
SAM: No, I was just saying sorry for saying ‘sorry’. Not for hurting you.
GARY: Oh. Okay.
SAM: And I’m sorry about what I said about people only liking you because you have a pool. It’s not true.
GARY: (PAUSE) It might be a bit true. The pool was broken last week, and . . . I was kinda less popular.
SAM: I still shouldn’t have said it. Wait. How does a pool break? Like, in half?
GARY: Nah. Just kinda like . . . filter thingy . . . dunno. Pool guy said something about clawing.
SAM: Maybe ‘chlorine’?
GARY: Dunno.
(PAUSE)
GARY: I’m sorry I bailed on you just because you were the teacher’s pet.
SAM: Well, no one likes the teacher’s pet.
GARY: Except the teacher.
SAM: Obviously. Anyway, it was fine. I had heaps of other friends anyway.
GARY: Yeah? Like who?
SAM: You know like . . . heaps.
GARY: Name one.
SAM: Sure.
GARY: Go on.
SAM: What? Now?
GARY: Yeah.
SAM: Sure. (COUGH) Umm . . . okay . . . Dan . . . ee . . . athy.
GARY: Danee-athy? There’s no Danee—
SAM: (QUICKLY) The point is I had other friends, okay? We don’t have to get bogged down in the details of their names. (PAUSE) Anyway, it wasn’t like you dumped me as a friend completely. Like, you were still happy for me to come over on the weekend, as long as it was a secret and I wore a balaclava and arrived in the boot of the car and Dad carried me inside in a suitcase and wore a false beard and an eye patch to disguise himself and we painted the car a different colour. So that was nice of you.
GARY: So how come you didn’t do that, then?
SAM: Couldn’t find an eye patch. Had everything else organised. Painting the car took ages.
GARY: Classic.
(PAUSE)
GARY: Wanna come for a swim after school?
SAM: Wouldn’t it be bad for your image?
GARY: Bring your suitcase. If anyone else drops in, you can hide inside it.
SAM: Ha. Classic.
GARY: I’m serious.
SAM: (EYES NARROW)
GARY: I’m not serious. I don’t mind if you wreck my image.
SAM: Great. And the reason I’m friends with you isn’t just because you’ve got a pool. (PAUSE) It’s just a very important factor.
GARY: (LAUGHS) Classic. Hey, wanna play mini-golf on Sunday then go to Woden Plaza and get nachos from that place that makes the good nachos?
SAM: You mean the nacho place?
GARY: Yeah, that one that makes the good nachos.
SAM: With the sauce?
GARY: Yeah, the good sauce they make at the nacho place.
SAM: Cool. I’ll check my diary.
GARY: You don’t have a diary.
SAM: I didn’t used to, but maybe when you were off dumping me as a friend and being all popular, I got a diary.
GARY: Okay. Check your diary then.
SAM: I don’t have a diary. (PAUSE) But I just remembered I can’t on Sunday because I’m going to a birthday party.
GARY: (TAKEN ABACK) Oh. Whose?
SAM: Danee-athy’s.
GARY: Ha!
SAM: Didn’t you get invited? Aren’t you and Danee-athy friends?
GARY: It’s hard to be friends with someone who’s not real.
The bell went and I walked to class feeling like I was floating. Everyone needs friends.
Then I thought about the one kid in our year who didn’t have any.
28
THE TEACHER’S PET
At lunch I went looking for someone. As I walked past the marble field I saw Duncan Underwood, sitting by himself, staring intently at something cupped in his hands. He was still in the grip of Swirly.
I walked over to him.
SAM: Hi, Duncan.
DUNCAN: (CLENCHES HANDS AROUND SWIRLY AND STARES SUSPICIOUSLY AT SAM) What?
SAM: How about I take that marble?
DUNCAN: No way.
SAM: (SQUATS DOWN AND HOLDS OUT HIS HAND) Come on.
DUNCAN: Go away.
SAM: I’ll do your English homework for you.
DUNCAN: (SHAKES HEAD)
SAM: You know it’s not good for you. Come on.
Duncan stared at me and then looked down at Swirly. I reached out and started to slowly uncurl his fingers from the marble, and he didn’t resist. I took Swirly, stood and walked towards the school fence, with Duncan following. At the fence I gave Swirly a long look, then closed my fist around her and pulled my arm back, ready to throw. I looked at Duncan. He reached out to grab my arm but then stopped, took a deep breath and let his hand drop. I raised my eyebrows and he gave a tiny nod. I threw Swirly over the fence and, side by side, we watched her bounce down the road, and then disappear down a gutter.
Very Popular Me Page 8