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Authors: James Roy

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BOOK: Captain Mack
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THREE

“What did your dad say?” Caleb asked Danny as they walked from the station the next morning.

“Nothing. I just told him what happened. How about you?”

Caleb grimaced. “It wasn't pretty.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“They said — I think this was it — that they're ‘watching me closely'. You know, my marks and that.”

“But your marks are great.”

Caleb just shrugged. “Well anyway, they reckon that the scholarship's only just enough, so I've got to really work hard and not cause trouble. Because if I lose that scholarship …”

“Did you tell them that you didn't do anything?” Danny asked. “Did you tell them that it was just me?”

“Yeah, of course, but —” Caleb shook his head. “Sometimes it's easier not to argue.”

They approached the school's tall brick gateposts and could hear the schoolyard noise drifting out to meet them. Danny took a deep breath. He'd get used to this place eventually — he felt sure of it. Maybe the day after he left.

“Here we go again,” he said. Caleb grinned at him as he added, “What can possibly go wrong?”

Mrs Snipe smiled and showed every one of her tiny yellow teeth. “Morning, boys,” she said. “I have some happy news for you all. Next Monday is school photo day.”

Everyone groaned, but especially Danny. Photographers who knew what they were doing could manage to make his eye look only slightly crooked, but those who were new to the job usually screwed it up completely, making him look like he had a false eye or was pulling some hideous face.

“That's it — I'm wagging,” he whispered to Caleb.

“You can't.”

“Just watch me.” He clutched at his stomach. “Ooooh,” he moaned quietly.

“Sure, that's convincing. Can you keep it up for a whole week?”

Shaun and Grant were waiting for Danny in the crowded corridor near the lockers. “Hi there, Smell,” Shaun said. “How was detention yesterday?”

“Get lost,” said Danny. “It was your fault and you know it.”

“That wasn't how Whaley saw it.”

“Well, he didn't see you grab my ear, did he?”

Shaun raised his eyebrows. “Grab your ear? I don't know what you're talking about. Do you, Grant?”

Grant shook his head and looked dumb, which wasn't all that unusual for him.

It wasn't worth arguing about, Danny decided, and he tried to edge past them towards his locker.

Shaun stepped in front of him. “Looking forward to Monday?” he sneered, crossing his eyes. “Photo day, remember?”

“Hey, why don't you just leave him alone, all right?” Caleb said, pushing between them and facing Shaun.

“Look, Smell, your boyfriend's sticking up for you.” Shaun dropped his books on the floor, and a few of the boys nearby stopped what they were doing to watch. “Well, big guy, how lucky do you feel?” Shaun taunted.

Caleb took another step closer, so their chests were almost touching. “Lucky enough,” he said.

“Caleb Ross!” roared a voice from the end of the corridor. It Mr Whaley. Everyone went silent and stood back to let him walk to where the four boys were standing. “What's going on, Shaun?” he asked.

“We were just trying to talk,” Shaun said. “Then Danny and Caleb tried to pick a fight, sir. But there's nothing to worry about — it's all sorted out now.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” said Mr Whaley. “Is what Shaun said true, Mr Ross?”

“Not really — well, sort of, I guess,” stammered Caleb.

“I see. Well, Mr Snell?” he asked, turning to Danny.

Danny looked around at all the faces watching with such interest. Again he felt like saying exactly what had happened, simply announcing to the world that Shaun was being a bully, and had been one for as long as they'd known each other. But then everyone in that hall would know. They'd know about the years of primary school endured so far, and those of high school yet to come, and they'd see clear sides. Shaun and Grant, brave, strong and fearsome on one side, Danny and Caleb, gutless, weak and fearful on the other. And they'd discover that this time it was all over something as simple as having a photo taken, which would be just too humiliating. He looked at Mr Whaley, whose face told him that he'd probably never believe the story anyway.

“It's nothing, sir,” he said at last. “Just a bit of an argument, that's all.”

“Fists are raised, and you call it a
bit
of an argument? Think again, son — that's more like a fight! All right, both of you come with me.” He grabbed Danny and Caleb by the shoulders and guided them through the crowd. “We're going to have a little chat.”

“But sir, what about them?” asked Caleb.

“Rather than worrying about them, Mr Ross, you should be worrying about your own situation.”

They sat outside the headmaster's office and waited.

“I hate this,” said Caleb.

“So why did you do it? Why are you always sticking up for me?”

“Because I'm your mate, that's why. You'd do the same for me — I know you would.”

“Yeah, I know. But two days in a row?”

Caleb didn't answer for a while, and when Danny glanced across at him, he saw tears forming a shiny streak down his cheeks.

“What's wrong?”

Caleb blinked hard. “My parents. They're going to kill me.”

“But it wasn't your fault.”

Caleb wiped his eyes with his fingers. “It wasn't my fault yesterday either, but they were still pretty mad. Who knows what's going to happen this time? What if I get suspended? What if they take away the scholarship?”

“They won't suspend us. Will they?”

Caleb sniffed and tried to look brave. “I don't know. I hope not.”

Dr Partridge was a small man with wavy silver hair and a quiet, thin voice. Leaning back in his big black chair, he cleared his throat and frowned at the boys across his desk. The clock on the wall behind the boys was ticking loudly in the quiet office. Dr Partridge tapped the end of his pen thoughtfully on the leather desk-pad a couple of times before laying it down carefully.

He cleared his throat again. “Mr Whaley didn't bother me with what happened in his classroom yesterday, but in that context he was quite concerned by today's disturbance. So here you are.” He paused, waiting.

Caleb spoke first. “Sir, we weren't really fighting.”

Dr Partridge straightened his tie as he shook his head. “Mr Whaley was quite clear. He said that you attacked several other students.”

“But sir, that's not really —”

“He tells me that you attacked Shaun Gilmore at the lockers outside Room 2B. I don't see any reason to doubt his story.”

“If we were fighting with Shaun and Grant, then why aren't they here too?” asked Caleb.

Dr Partridge frowned some more and raised one finger. “Careful, Caleb. Despite Shaun and Grant being none of your concern, I will tell you that Mr Whaley felt that they were defending themselves.”

Caleb shook his head. “No, sir, that's not true.”

Dr Partridge's voice was beginning to sound strained. “Caleb, I'd prefer not to sit here and be forced to defend one of my longest-serving teachers.”

“But he's lying!” Danny blurted out.

“Daniel, levelling accusations of that sort at Mr Whaley isn't going to help your present predicament. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir, I just don't —”

Dr Partridge held up his hand again. “Boys, I'd like each of you to come back to the office at the end of the day. There'll be letters waiting to be taken home to your parents.”

“Sir, are we suspended?” Caleb asked in a shaky voice.

Dr Partridge went to the door and opened it. “Back to your classrooms, boys.”

As they walked together back to their Maths class, which was almost finished by now, Caleb muttered, “I'm dead. I am so dead.” His face was ghostly pale.

“It might not be that bad,” Danny said.

“No, it is that bad. Even if the school doesn't suspend me, I'm still in big trouble. Mum and Dad can hardly afford to keep me here as it is, even with the scholarship. If they think I'm mucking up, they'll probably send me to the local school.”

“Do you think they would?”

“I hope not. But they might.”

Danny sat at the kitchen table and turned the envelope over and over in his hands. Why did this have to happen on one of the two days Dad came home late? He felt nauseous as he imagined his father reading his second detention note in as many days. As long as that's all it is, he thought. As long as it doesn't say I'm suspended.

He held the letter up to the light for what felt like the thousandth time. He couldn't make out anything except the school emblem and part of Dr Partridge's signature sneering at him. He tossed the letter onto the table, wishing Dad would skip squash and come home early so they could get it over with.

Through the wall he heard Ellie's door close, and decided that he had to talk to someone. She'd do.

He was almost at his front door when he remembered the letter and went back to get it. He couldn't risk Dad coming home unexpectedly and reading it without him. He at least wanted to be there to explain what it said. That's if he could explain.

Ellie came to her door wearing shorts, a T-shirt and joggers. She had a towel around her neck and her face was flushed. “Hello, neighbour,” she said. “I just got back from my walk. What's up?”

“Nothing,” he replied stupidly.

“OK What can I do for you, then?”

“Nothing,” he said again.

She looked at his face for a long moment. “In you come,” she said at last, holding the door open. “Let's talk.”

“So, what's up?” she asked when they were both sitting in her living room.

Danny showed her the envelope. “This.”

“What is it?” she asked, reading Dad's name on the front.

“It's my second detention letter in two days. And this one's from Dr Partridge — he's the headmaster — so it could even be a suspension letter.”

“Are you sure it's as bad as all that? May I?” She held it up against the light from the front window.

“I've already tried that,” Danny said. Then he told her the story.

She nodded slowly when he'd finished. “Well, if it happened the way you say, then I doubt they'll suspend you. I'm not so confident about your friend, though, if he looked like he might actually snot this Shaun character.”

“Dad's going to get pretty mad if I'm suspended,” he said. “But at least I wouldn't have to go to photos next week.”

“What's wrong with — oh,” she said, looking away at something outside the window. “Well, I think you should wait and see what the letter says before you start making any drastic plans of escape.”

Dad scratched his chin slowly as he read the letter. Then he lowered it and sucked on the arm of his reading glasses. He looked across at Danny, who was perched nervously on the edge of the couch.

“Well? What's it say?” Danny asked. “Am I suspended?”

“No. No, son, you're not suspended.”

Danny sighed. “Phew. I really —”

“But two in a row is a bit much, mate.” Dad was stern, but seemed more concerned than angry.

“I told you what happened —”

“I know you did, but you'll need to find a different strategy for dealing with this Gilmore kid. Try ignoring him.”

“It doesn't work, Dad — I've tried. He just does it all the more.”

Dad cleared his throat. “I know it's going to be tough, Dan, but you'll just have to be stronger than that. Walk away. Count to ten before you retaliate or reply. Sometimes that's harder to do than kicking and screaming, but …” He took out his pen, signed the letter and handed it back to Danny. “Anyhow, as far as I'm concerned, this is the end of the matter.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“This isn't a habit, is it?”

“No, of course not.”

Caleb's voice was low and shaky on the other end of the line. “It was pretty ugly this time. Dad went feral.”

“But at least you're not suspended, right?”

“No, but I've been grounded.”

“Grounded? How long for?”

“A month.”

“What, no movies or anything?”

Danny could imagine Caleb rolling his eyes. “Duh! What does grounded usually mean?”

Danny whistled. “That's rough. But did you tell how it really happened?”

“Yeah, I tried, but it didn't make any difference. I guess they just don't under — Sorry, I've got to go.” The phone went dead.

Danny stood in the dark hallway and felt like crying.

FOUR

Monday was every bit as bad as Danny had expected. All morning Shaun and Grant came out with every joke they could think of, plus a few old ones Danny had heard a couple of hundred times. He did his best to ignore them, just as Dad had suggested. It wasn't easy.

Danny's class was having its photos taken first period after recess, and his muesli bar felt like a last meal, sticking in his dry throat, refusing to slip down no matter how much he chewed it.

After recess the entire class went over to the assembly hall together. Shaun and Grant walked behind Caleb and Danny, and as they reached the hall Shaun kicked one of Danny's ankles from behind. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet.

“Didn't you see the step there?” taunted Shaun.

“Came at him from the left,” replied Grant, and they laughed.

Danny heard Caleb take a deep breath of self-control beside him and decided to do the same. Once inside they made a point of sitting as far from Shaun and Grant as possible.

The photographer worked through the list alphabetically. It didn't take long before she got to S. Craig Slight went to the front, sat on the stool, the big white umbrella flashed twice, and Danny knew who was next. And he knew
what
was next.

“Snell,” the photographer called out, reading from her list. She was a young woman with short red curly hair and bright green glasses.

“That's you, Smell,” Grant called out. A few boys tittered. The hall was quiet as everyone watched Danny stand and walk slowly to the front of the vast room, his shoes tapping like drumbeats on the timber floor. The blindfold, ready, aim, fire.

Danny finally reached the photographer and her pale blue screen. The hall was silent now, every pair of ears waiting to hear what she'd say.

“Where do I sit — on here?” he asked, pointing at the stool.

“Yes, that's right.”

He took his glasses off and held them in his sweaty hand. He heard someone laugh — it had to be Shaun.

“OK, just get comfortable and then I'll position you,” said the photographer. “Now, turn slightly so your left side is facing me.”

“I think I'd like it better the other way,” said Danny, who knew about these things.

“The left side would look … Oh, I see what you … OK, then, the right side's just fine,” coughed the photographer, her face going almost as red as her hair.

Several boys snickered. Danny snuck a glance at Shaun and Grant. They were cracking up, almost falling off their chairs. He remembered what Dad had said, and started counting.

The photo session seemed to inspire Shaun and Grant to make even more jokes at Danny's expense than before, and he already tired of ignoring them and counting to ten. It really didn't seem to be working, and he intended to tell Dad what a stupid suggestion it had been the minute he got home from work.

Danny got to the front gate and angrily threw his bag up the path as hard as he could. Then he swore at it and gave it a good solid kick.

“You right there?” asked a voice beside him. Ellie popped up on the other side of the little fence, an enormous straw hat shading her face. “Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”

“Oh, sorry,” said Danny, embarrassed.

“Don't apologise. I say that word all the time, and worse. What's up?”

“You know.” He held up an imaginary camera. “Click.”

“Oh, right. Not so good, huh?”

“Just like I thought it would be.”

Ellie straightened up and pulled off her pink gardening gloves one finger at a time. “I'm ready for a cuppa. Care to join me?”

Danny picked up his bag. “Yeah, why not?” he said.

“I admire you,” said Ellie, pouring Danny a Coke and placing it on the table.

“Admire me? Why?”

She sat down opposite him and stirred her tea thoughtfully. “Because you're brave,” she answered at last.

He laughed self-consciously. “I don't think I'm all that brave.”

“Sure you are. If that was me in your position today I'd have wagged, no question.”

“Really? 'Cause I thought about it.”

Ellie shook her head. “I'd never have turned up, no way.”

“But everyone would have known why I wasn't there. And Shaun would have told anyone who hadn't worked it out for themselves, so …”

“Well I think you're brave, even if you don't.”

Danny didn't answer. He just shrugged, smiled and drank his Coke. He liked the way Ellie always seemed to say the right things.

“Look, Danny, I've got to drive over to work to pick up a couple of things. Do you fancy coming along for the ride?” she asked, right out of the blue. “It'll only take half an hour.”

Danny thought about it. Dad wouldn't be home till late, and he was sure he wouldn't mind.

“Yeah, why not?” he replied.

When Ellie finally got her old car started and it had crept sputtering from its space, Danny said, “Dad told me that you're a nurse. He said you might know about my eye.”

She shook her head. “Afraid not, Danny. I am a nurse, but not that kind.”

“Do you work in a hospital?”

“Sort of. It's more like a village for old people.”

“A nursing home?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Its full name is Lady Smythe Memorial Retirement Complex, or Lady Smythe for short. There are a few serviced units there as well, but the part I work in really is a nursing home, I guess. You'll see when we get there.”

“And what are you picking up?”

“Gee, you're full of questions, aren't you? I'm just grabbing a couple of study books I left behind. I won't be very long.” She smiled at him. “I felt like the company, that's all. It can be pretty boring travelling in the city on your own.”

They drove awhile without saying anything. Then, as they waited at a set of lights, Ellie said, “I don't suppose I need to tell you about frustration, do I?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm talking about that heavy kind of feeling you get around here.” She rested a hand on her chest. “When you know that there's absolutely nothing you can do about a bad situation and you just want to hit something.”

“Like me and the photos today, you mean?”

She laughed. “Except you wanted to hit
someone
, not something. But yeah, exactly like that.”

“I know what you mean.”

She nodded and smiled. “You know, sometimes when I walk in to work and find that there aren't enough staff to do what's required, or if I don't have enough hours in the day to care for my patients the way I know I should, then that's how I feel. Frustrated.” She turned her face to look straight at him. “Like I want to burst into tears.”

Danny said nothing, his hands folded in his lap, his eyes fixed on the car in front. He wondered why she was telling him this.

He looked at her, and she smiled. “Just thought you should know,” she said.

BOOK: Captain Mack
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