Benworden (5 page)

My club name was Fetch; it originated from my ability to find the right parts or objects for the right price or at no cost at all. This was what I had been trained in since becoming a member in year 7 and I seemed to have a natural flair for this type of work. I guess my skill came from living on our farm, where Dad would often ask me to go to the shed and find a part or ring up the local hardware store to order whatever was required. Old Mr Bunter, the owner of the store, wouldn't hesitate to put things on Dad's account when I would call
because he knew Dad had full trust in me and that I rarely made a mistake about the things he had asked me to order.

As each member progressed through the years they had to learn the skills of those who'd preceded them. Once a year 12 member graduated, a year 7 student would be chosen on their ability to perform similar skills to the person who had moved on. For example, once I left, the club required someone who would fetch, so they would have researched the new boarders by hacking into the principal's computer and analysing who had the most potential for my role. This created a rotation of members with the skills required to run the club.

5

T
HE
C
RUSH

M
y co-leader was Geraldine “Shamrock” O'Connor. Geraldine and I worked side by side as presidents of the Bull Ants Club. She was born in Ireland and her mother and father came to Australia when she was nine years old, yet there was still a faint reminder of a gentle Irish accent. She had an extraordinarily strong will and was sometimes as fiery as her brilliant red hair. It normally took a lot to upset Geraldine (or Gerry as we called her) but once that Irish temper was off and running so was everyone around her. Gerry wore blue rectangular-shaped glasses which in no way detracted from her breathtaking beauty.

Her father was a partner with a large law firm in Melbourne who mainly defended big-time criminals. Her mother was a professor at the Melbourne University. Most of their time was spent in Melbourne, but occasionally they would take some time off to come up to their hobby farm just out of Ballarat where they kept quarter horses and a handful of cattle. Her father loved the feeling of throwing on a pair of work boots, jeans and a flannelette shirt and jumping in his flat tray ute with its hoist on the back to go into town to pick up some lucerne for the horses. Of course it was the farm hand who did the real work but as Gerry said, while her Dad was busy it kept him from bothering her.

Gerry is devoted to the club and is well respected by all members although we have all given her a bit of a tease about
the Irish accent from time to time.

As she is an only child (like me), Gerry's father wanted her to become a barrister as he felt she should keep up the tradition of lawyers growing on the family tree. She loved her father but rarely showed it outwardly; she didn't like the way he was continually on the evening news or in the papers accompanying members of the Melbourne underworld as they left the chief magistrate's court with big smiles on their faces after another successful defence.

Boarders at Benworden would often call out to Gerry at news time, “Hey Gerry, your old man is on TV again. Come and have a look.”

Gerry would simply reply, “No thanks,” and go about whatever it was she was doing at the time.

She understood that what her father did was important to him but it wasn't what she wanted for her life. Although she knew that everybody is entitled to a reasonable defence, she also believed that the people who her father defended were career criminals, and putting them back on the streets only served to hurt others.

Even though Gerry didn't like what her father did she had a natural flair for legal matters, and any business, new or old, that the club was involved in was given to her to look over and she would advise us accordingly. It wasn't uncommon to see her on the phone selling and buying shares for the club and from the time she was at the helm of business development our profits soared beyond all expectations.

I think Gerry and I were drawn to each other for a few reasons, the main one being the only child thing. Unless you've been one it's difficult to explain the void that dwells within.
What I most admired and respected about Gerry was her mature attitude and how she used her charisma in a way that made it difficult for people, even those much older, to say no to any reasonable request she made. I was also impressed by how she genuinely poured importance on those she was with at the time. No matter how introverted a person was, if they were with Gerry they would find themselves strutting around like a supermodel in a town full of miners.

Last but not least, Gerry had become someone I could trust, the sister I never had...yet there had always been something more. Both of us felt it from the beginning but held off doing anything about it, fearful that it might destroy the best friendship that both of us ever had. I do remember a day, however, when my emotions got the better of me.

It had been a bitterly cold winter filled with dark and gloomy days where motivation was hard to come by. Even spending time in the club rooms had become tedious. Spring should have come sooner but the previous chilly, dark, miserable months had held it at bay.

When spring eventually kicked down the doors of winter it brought with it a new zest for life and it was easy to see that it had lifted everyone's spirits. In fact, this was going to be a very memorable day. I had woken in a great mood that morning and even my when my ear-piercing alarm went off I ignored it for as long as I could. This was quite unusual for me as I'm normally an early riser and hate to be late for anything. Cyril, the male boarders' supervisor, was trying to hurry me along but I was in such a good mood I found myself being more chatty than normal. Gerry had sat down next to me at the table.

I had no idea she had a dentist appointment that day and didn't have to leave the boarding house till later. Although
Cyril rarely interferes with whatever we do, this morning for some reason or another he was constantly saying to me, “Excuse me, Dylan, I don't like to interrupt but if you don't leave soon you're going to be late for class.”

I smiled at Gerry then lifted my head to eyeball Cyril and said, “When have I ever been late?”

Then I swung back around and grinned at Gerry in a flirtatious way as if to say, “Hey, like the way I handled that?”

Cyril began removing my plate from the table and replied, “Never. But it seems you're making an exception today.”

Now I was getting downright annoyed. Here I was, sitting alone in a room making small talk with the most beautiful woman in the school and my supervisor was hell bent on destroying this magic moment.

So my head jerked around to eyeball him again and I replied, “What do you mean, and why just me? Gerry's sitting here right next to me and if I'm late she'll be late too!”

I think spending quality time with Gerry and this whole spring thing had got to me – I had never spoken that disrespectfully before, but I'd pay for it because instant karma was about to turn around and give me a good bite on my butt.

That realisation came to me when Gerry piped up and said, “Oh, didn't I tell you Dylan? I have a dentist appointment this morning and I won't be at school till later today.”

Cyril was standing behind her with a grin from ear to ear.

“What a warped sense of humour!” I thought to myself while grabbing a piece of toast and bouncing from my chair.

“See you later,” I said to Gerry as I glanced back over
my shoulder only to see Cyril and Gerry chuckling between themselves. I raced down the hall and out the back door and although I'm not the most athletic guy in the world I bounded over the conifer hedge like an Olympic hurdler.

Way up ahead I could see a mob of lagging students and decided the only way I had any chance of being on time was by cutting through the park to nullify the deviation in the walkway that curved away from the school.

I reckon I broke several track records that day and it was clear to see I was going to make it in time; all I had to do was conquer the final hurdle which was the last hedge and then round the corner to victory.

I leapt the hedge like a springbok over tall grass and then BANG! I ran straight into Mr Gowdy, knocking his books and briefcase from his hands.

All the things I had been told to do and not to do as a young Bull Ant were somersaulting in my head and the most important one was “Don't bring attention to yourself!”

Wow! Had I blown big time! I knew I was in for it. I'd seen students do a lot less in the past and had it cost them dearly.

Then the sun came shining through the clouds, hitting Mr Gowdy like a bolt of lightning, and a miracle occurred.

I began busily picking up his books and briefcase while trying to dust him down at the same time and I started apologising in a grovelling manner. Mr Gowdy peered over the top of his glasses that now were sitting quite crooked on his face and said, “That's all right. Accidents happen. Just be more careful in future.”

He straightened his glasses and walked off. There must have been a dozen students standing around with their mouth's
agape and in complete shock of what they'd just witnessed.

Greg “Sparky” Collins, a Bull Ant member from year 11 who was next in line to take over from Gerry and me, had seen the whole thing and couldn't believe it.

Greg was average height with mousy coloured hair and a masculine build. He had the ability to keep a straight face no matter what the situation, and told me this was a once-in-a-lifetime event and that he believed I deserved legendary status. He grinned when he said, “Your name will go down in Bull Ant history.”

I didn't know how to react to his comment, as he had one of those dry senses of humour that make you wonder whether to laugh or be insulted. However, once I'd collected my composure and thoughts I understood that what had happened that day was no joking matter and that miracles are real.

I must admit though, that I was never late for school from that day on.

6

G
REG AND
C
ARLA'S
S
TORY

G
reg was a great guy and I often wondered how he could have any sense of humour at all given his past. I guess that's one of the reasons we picked him for the club: he was always able to rise above adversity. Greg had two older siblings who were both at university in the United States. His father, Barry, was an electrical engineer and had thrown himself into his work since the death of his wife Sandra. Most of his time was spent overseas, only coming home for Christmas and school holidays.

Sandra was born and raised in the USA and Barry had met her when his company in Australia had asked him to do some work on a major building in New York that needed to have all its electrical wiring updated. There was a small coffee shop on the ground floor where Barry would go for lunch most days, and that's where he met Sandra. She had her own small documentary film agency and sat at the same table at the coffee shop every day. There were always spare tables but Sandra liked just one in particular where she would sit alone contemplating her next project. The reason she preferred this table was that it only seated two people so she was rarely bothered by others sitting with her. However, the morning they met it had been pouring with rain so the shop had been inundated by those seeking shelter, and when Barry arrived for lunch there was only one spare seat and it was at Sandra's table. From the moment Barry asked if he could sit with her something special happened; they had so much in common and it wasn't long
before they began seeing each other on a regular basis. They eventually got married and Barry's job finished in the States so they moved to Australia to start their family. Greg's two older siblings decided to attend university in the US after completing school, and when they weren't at uni they stayed at Sandra's parents' home or travel back to Australia for the holidays.

Greg was 10 when his mum died and because she had been given six months to prepare for the end, she set about making home movies and leaving words of wisdom for her son as he grew. She had packed individual films into boxes for each year leading up to graduation and left strict instructions that they weren't be opened until the second day of each New Year. There was also a message each year for Greg's father but he couldn't bear to sit and watch them as he had adored her and had never really let her go. Barry loved his son but Greg's close resemblance to Sandra was too much for Barry and made it difficult for him to be around him. Greg felt rejected by this and when his father would ring, he would try to avoid the call or make out that he was busy doing homework so he could keep the conversation as short as possible. The one notable thing Barry had done for him since the time he could walk, right up to Sandra's death, was teach him about electronics, and there was no doubt that he shared this ability with his father as he was a natural at it.