No Alarms (12 page)

‘So what?’ Sharon asked, keeping it bitchy, not giving herself away. ‘You’re saying I have to work at school now, if I want the money back?’

And he took the bait, before Kaz could stop him, because he wasn’t like them. He wasn’t smart.

‘If you can.’ And he turned to Kaz, smiling like he’d just achieved some great breakthrough.

‘I’ll do you a deal then.’ It was a simple set-up. ‘We’ve got a Maths test Tuesday. If I pass three credits you give me that money.’

‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep,’ he said, still smiling like he thought he was so special, lying there in the same bed Sharon had thrown up on so many times, when she was little.

‘You’re on you fat bastard,’ Sharon replied. ‘You’re fucken on.’

She stormed out, slamming the door after her, before Kaz could say something to make him try to take it back. Just because she didn’t go hard-out at school, it didn’t mean she was thick. Especially not Maths. Maths was easy when you tried. And just that afternoon Mark had said he wanted to help. She hated the jacket too. Sharon could already imagine the sour look on Derek’s face when he was forced to hand over the cash. It’d be the sweetest two-fifty she’d ever made.

The next day after school she went round to Mark’s place, and he didn’t look surprised to see her. He was too busy looking excited. She only had to use ‘Maths’ and ‘help’ in the same sentence and he was away, pulling out his notes and clearing a space on the little desk in his bedroom. He brought in an extra chair from another room and left her sitting there while he went off to find her a spare calculator. While he was gone Sharon checked through his drawers, not expecting to find anything, just being curious. But there wasn’t much to be curious about. No secret notes or hidden magazines, or money or old toys. Just clothes, all looking the same, newly washed and neatly folded, as safe and as tidy as the view out his bedroom window; over the neighbour’s backyard to the houses beyond, all the way up to the low line of hills that kept the other, untidy
suburbs from spilling over.

When he got back he was puffing, like he’d been running hard-out the whole time he was away, like it was that important to him.

‘So what do you want help with?’ He sat down slowly, as if uncomfortable being so close, but with no choice at a desk that small.

‘Whatever’s in the test.’

‘Have you tried the revision sheet he gave us?’

‘Must’ve missed that spell.’

‘I’ve got mine here, we’ll use that.’

The time went quickly. It wasn’t that hard. Sharon knew it wouldn’t be. She knew people like Mark weren’t that bright. She saw them, she heard the stupid things they said to each other. But they always did real well, and so she knew there must have been some system they used, some way of cheating. A system she’d never been bothered finding out about. It had never been that important.

And that’s exactly what it was, a system. Mark explained it as he went. How questions got asked in tests, what things had been asked before, what hints Mr Jenkins had dropped, to students like him, students Mr Jenkins considered worth helping. There was explaining to do too, because Sharon had missed a lot of it, but Mark wasn’t too bad at that. A bit too keen maybe, so it got sort of weird sometimes, watching him getting that excited about stuff that was just a game put down on paper, and a boring game too, the sort you should grow out of. But at least he didn’t make her feel small, and at least there was no one else there, to hear the dumb questions she had to ask, while she got things sorted out.

The longer it went the easier it got, and the more excited
Mark became. Even after three hours, when his mother came up and told him it was time for dinner, he wouldn’t let it go. He made her wait, while he wrote up some extra problems as homework, and a list of things she should do, to help her pass. He didn’t seem to mind at all. It was the opposite, as far as Sharon could see. It was like she was doing him some huge favour, letting him help. When it was finished he walked all the way down to the end of the driveway with her, giving last minute advice, and although she didn’t look back Sharon knew he stayed there way after she’d walked away.

Suited Sharon. With his soft help she was going to win, and that was going to make Derek look so small. Maybe then Kaz would see him properly, see what she’d brought home; another married man with ‘backdown’ written all over his face, and ‘loser’ on his t-shirt.

The next morning Sharon smoked three cigarettes on the way to school, to calm her down. Normally internal assessment didn’t mean anything at all. Last one she hadn’t even bothered doing. She was sure everyone was looking at her, wondering what she was doing, standing by herself outside the hall doors, holding her paper and calculator, and the water bottle she’d bought especially. Mark said water helped you think clearly. Probably just shit but worth a go. Anything was worth a go. She was on her second refill already. Her head was full of numbers; letters and shapes she only half remembered, that disappeared as soon as she tried to look at them. She saw Mark watching her, wanting to come over and give some last minute advice, but knowing
she’d ignore him if he did. He looked as nervous as she was. It was like the time at the bridge, waiting for Simon and Justin to return. She just wanted something to happen. She wanted it to be over.

‘Year Eleven Mathematics, the five rows on the left please.’ Mr Harding, some old guy Sharon’d never had, ushered them in. She took a seat near the front and faded out while the instructions were given. Obvious stuff, about names on answers and that.

‘Alright, you may start. You have two hours.’ Two hours. More time than she needed, to kick Derek hard in the balls.

It was like one of those spelling tests they used to have at Primary, back when she could spell. She didn’t know all of it, but there was enough there that might have been written just for her. Like it must have been all the time, for people like Mark.

The water wasn’t a good idea. Sharon had to ask to go out to the toilet three times. Each time she saw them looking at her, like they thought she was trying to get away with something.
Don’t have to,
she wanted to say.
Found me another way of cheating.
She finished with 15 minutes to spare. She didn’t spend the time checking back over, the way Mark had told her. Didn’t have to.

It should’ve been so sweet. It should’ve felt the same way it felt the whole afternoon, just hanging, smoking by the bridge, having a laugh with some of the others who hadn’t bothered showing at the test. Feeling part of it, but different too. It should have felt like it was that evening, when Derek called in. Not saying
anything when he asked how it was going, just smiling back, smug, knowing he’d keep. Or even what it was like ringing Mark, telling him how easy it’d been, cos she had to tell someone.

It wasn’t though. It wasn’t like any of those things. It was as if there were bits of the world that didn’t know how to be good to Sharon. Bits that would find a way of turning inside out on her, whenever she tried to ease up against them. It happened spell two the next day, when Sharon had a study. A note came round with a nervous little third former, asking her to go to Mrs Flynn’s office. Most days she would have been able to think of some reason, some little thing she’d done to piss them off, but this time Sharon was having trouble working it out.

When she walked into the office she thought she knew. Mr Jenkins was there, so it had to be Maths. He’d marked the test, that’d be it, and Mrs Flynn was going to tell Sharon how pleased they all were. Sweet.

Sharon relaxed, sat down without being asked. Then she saw the look on Mr Jenkins face, uncomfortable, nervous, the way he must’ve looked when he first started dating the pog Sharon had once seen him with.

‘I didn’t ask you to sit!’ Mrs Flynn said. Not angry, but not friendly either. Something worse. Her formal voice, the one she used to tie up decisions that wouldn’t be changed. ‘Well?’

She stared Sharon down but Sharon didn’t move. Whatever it was, she knew this time she didn’t deserve it, so there was nothing to worry about.

‘I’m sure you know why you’re here,’ Mrs Flynn continued, not being drawn.

Sharon looked at her face for clues, then back to Mr Jenkins. Nothing new. She shook her head.

‘I’ll keep this brief then. Mr Jenkins is here as a witness and because it was he who brought this to my attention. It is a matter of record that you have received three formal warnings this year, your mother has been in and you have declined the opportunity to make amends by going onto a contract. It is for this reason that the school has decided this latest incident is to lead directly to your expulsion from the school. Because of your age we are under no obligation to find you another school. You are indefinitely suspended from this time on, pending the formal board hearing. Your mother will be contacted later in the day. Goodbye Sharon. I would wish you well but really in your case I have to wonder what’s the point.’ And for a moment, just after she’d finished speaking, Sharon thought she saw a tiny bit of sadness creep up on Mrs Flynn’s face. Like this was another battle that she hadn’t won, and somewhere those losses were being added up. But then it was gone and the Deputy Principal waved her hand in a tired dismissal. There’d be others.

Sharon didn’t move. She was still trying to take it in. Getting kicked out was nothing, in some ways. She hardly went anyway and knew she’d be leaving before too long. No more of this crap, it was hardly something to get uptight about. Except it wasn’t about that. It was about Mrs Flynn, and how she thought she knew Sharon so well, just like they all did, when really they didn’t know shit. How she thought this time Sharon had gone too far, when this time she hadn’t done anything at all.

‘That will be all Sharon.’

‘What have I done?’ Sharon asked, hearing her voice catching on the words. ‘I haven’t done anything. This sucks. It’s a set-up isn’t it? What am I supposed to have done?’

‘At least have the dignity to be honest Sharon.’

‘I am being honest.’

Mrs Flynn looked to Mr Jenkins, as if silently checking some detail.

‘This school does not think fondly of cheats Sharon. NCEA is a formal assessment system. It is a chance for honest students to display their skills and abilities. We will not have their efforts undermined by the dishonesty of the lazy, corrupt likes of you.’

‘What? I didn’t cheat!’

Anger at Mrs Flynn turned to outrage at the entire world. Typical, that it would serve her up with this. Fucken typical.

‘How the fuck am I meant to have cheated?’

‘Sharon. Ms Hannah, who was supervising the test, tells me you left the hall three times yesterday. And Mr Jenkins tells me that you scored a merit, despite not having passed a single unit test all year. Despite what you might like to believe, we’re not stupid.’

But they were. More stupid even than the jobs they did. So stupid that they hadn’t even thought to ask whether there might have been another reason. Maybe Sharon should have tried to explain. She could have told them about the water, got Mark to tell them about the help he’d been giving them. Maybe even let on about the bet with Derek, so they’d see it wasn’t such a strange thing to be doing, trying to pass. Only that would have meant staying calm, ignoring all the anger boiling up beneath her skin. And it would have needed them not to be quite so stupid, so they could listen and understand.

That’s why Sharon stood up instead, more quickly than they were expecting, by the startled looks on both their faces. Not as startled as when she reached Flynn’s desk and tipped it forward, so the Deputy Principal had to put her hands up to stop it
squashing her face, and papers went all over the floor. And Mr Jenkins, poor useless Mr Jenkins, didn’t even move, or try to help Mrs Flynn up after she’d slipped right off her chair. He just stood there, looking like an extra to a movie, who’d turned up on the set on the wrong day. He didn’t even move when she spat straight at his face, on the way out the door, for the very last time.

EVERYBODY WOULD HAVE HEARD about it at school. Something like that, it’d be all they’d be talking about for a while. Sharon knew how it’d go. People saying how she was so thick she had to resort to cheating to get anything. And then they’d remember some time in class, when she’d been made to look small, and they’d laugh, all of them.

Sharon was in the park. She’d stalled there, halfway back to her place, because she wasn’t ready yet to face the truth; that leaving school might mean the same thing as going home. She sat with her back against the wonky frame of the slide and faced the only part of the hill that didn’t have houses on it, so she could pretend she wasn’t any place in particular. Then Mark appeared, waddling across the grass, wrestling with a nervous smile, like he knew it was wrong there, but he had no other place to put it.

‘What do you want?’ Sharon scowled. ‘Go on. Fuck off.’

‘No, Sharon. I know what happened. I know how you must be feeling. Well, not exactly, but I can imagine. You must be so… so angry.’

He sat down next to her, before she could move away.

‘Of course I’m not. It’s just a test isn’t it? Why would I give a fuck about some stupid test?’

‘But they’re saying you got kicked out.’

‘No, I walked out, there’s a difference. Anyway, what’s it to you?’

‘Nothing, I s’pose,’ Mark said, but not like he meant it. Sharon could tell he was looking for another way in, that he’d come here to tell her something else.

‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked.

‘Go home I suppose.’

‘No, after that I mean.’

‘I don’t know. Something. Get a job. Save up, go overseas maybe.’

‘What sort of job?’ He was like one of those little dogs with a bite so small you can’t even feel it, but still they piss you off, the way they won’t let go.

‘It doesn’t matter does it?’

‘Of course it matters.’

‘To you maybe.’

‘To everyone. If you don’t get a job you don’t have any money. You need money Sharon. Everyone needs money. You should go back. Apologise. I’ll explain, how I helped you. They’ll listen to me.’

‘Like I need your help you little wanker.’ It made her so angry, that he could even think it, and Sharon never thought too straight when she was angry. ‘There’s other ways of getting money. Justin’s going to help me. Make more money than you’ve ever seen.’

‘Unless you get caught.’

Mark was different today, more determined, like this time he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to let this go.

‘What?’

‘Everybody knows he’s a criminal Sharon. Just like his
brother. He’s not as clever as you think you know. He’s always talking big but he’s going to end up in prison, same as you will.’

‘Like you know anything.’

‘I’m going to be a lawyer. I’ll probably end up defending you one day.’

‘You’re pathetic, you know that? You’re full of shit and you’re pathetic. Now piss off. I don’t want to talk to you.’

He didn’t say anything more but he didn’t leave either. They were both standing now, her anger had brought them to their feet, and they were staring each other down. And he didn’t back off, or even blink, the way she would have betted every time. He just stood there, like he had the right. Like she was so desperate, anybody had the right to try to help her.

‘Right then, I’ll go if you’re not going to.’

Sharon tried to turn away but Mark grabbed her by the shoulders. It felt so unnatural that for a moment neither of them knew how to react.

‘You can’t. You can’t do that. You’re better than that. I won’t let you.’

There were a thousand good answers to that, a thousand ways to say ‘fuck off loser’. It was in the second Sharon spent choosing one that Mark kissed her. Or tried to. He didn’t know what he was doing, that was obvious. His head jerked forward and his lips collided with hers. Then they opened, quickly, like he was trying to get a taste of something, so she caught the first hint of slobber. It was as pathetic as it was disgusting. Sharon could have head butted him from there easily, or brought up a knee, but she was so surprised all she could do was push him away.

Sharon looked at him. Head down, catching his breath,
staring at the dirt. It was the sort of look you might be tricked into feeling sorry for.

Only there’s nothing to be sorry for, it’s just another guy who thinks he’s found a cheap way in.

Sharon waited until he looked up and then she hit him, hard. His face was an easy target, hanging there in front of her, not expecting it, and her fist caught his nose with enough force to knock him over. He didn’t try to get up, or even crawl away. He just looked up at her from the ground, staring hard at her eyes.

‘Never ever touch me again,’ Sharon hissed at him. ‘Don’t even talk to me.’

Mark stood slowly, still not looking away, still not bursting into tears, the way he should have.

‘Okay, I’m going. But I still think you’re stupid.’

Then he turned and walked off. By the time he reached the fence he had started to trot, like the old Mark was returning. Sharon watched him go, and that’s when she noticed another person standing on the fence line, watching it all. The tall, unmistakable figure of Simon.

It was evening when Sharon got home. She knew school would have called. She could imagine Flynn’s voice down the phone when she delivered the news, dripping with
Thank
God
and
I
told
you
so.
She could imagine how Kaz would be too, gearing up for the fight they both had known would come eventually. The last fight about school. Sharon was ready for it; ready to switch off, let the abuse wash over her, because it had happened now, it was over, it wasn’t worth the argument.

She wasn’t ready for Trish though, sitting there in their kitchen, amongst Kaz’s smoke like some bad piece of magic.

‘Hi ya Sharon,’ Trish said.

‘Hi.’ Sharon stayed in the doorway, not sure how to do this. Typical, that the day would stay weird. She looked at them both, searching for clues, but they gave nothing away.

‘Jesus, you can sit down you know,’ Kaz sighed. ‘There’s not going to be a fight. Not this time.’

‘Whatever.’ Sharon edged forward, but only slightly. It didn’t do to trust Kaz at times like this. She’d be working an angle, always.

‘So what’s the story then?’ Kaz started.

Trish sat silently, all part of the plan. And having her there watching, Sharon found she couldn’t talk, not properly.

‘What story?’

‘Don’t Sharon. The indefinite suspension story okay? What did you think? School wouldn’t ring?’

Kaz sounded more tired than angry, which made it harder. There was nothing to hit back at.

‘Mark rang too.’ Trish spoke. ‘He explained it all.’

‘I thought you were in Rotorua,’ Sharon returned, making it into an accusation.

‘I’ve been staying with Ms Komiko, just until all of this is sorted.’

‘Well you shouldn’t listen to Mark. He’s full of shit.’

And Mark should never have called. Same as he should have told her Trish was still in the city. Sharon could feel all the moving that had happened out of view. All the conversations, the plans and the opinions. This was a set-up.

‘Sharon, Trish has got a plan,’ Kaz said, like that much wasn’t already obvious.

I’m
your daughter remember, I know a bit about manipulation.

‘I think you should listen.’

‘Yeah yeah.’

Trish took her time getting started, like she was waiting for the mood to change. It didn’t.

‘Sharon, I need your help.’

‘So?’

‘Just listen okay?’ There was proper tension in Trish’s voice, the sort you can’t act. ‘You know they’ve fired me don’t you? Well there’s going to be a hearing, with the registration board.’

‘Should have thought of that before you tried to get that wall painted then,’ Sharon said, seeing her as a teacher now. Treating her as a teacher.

‘Look, they can stop me teaching. Do you even get what that means? No job, no money. I’m going to fight this, and I need you to be a witness.’

‘What for?’

‘Someone saw you leaving that morning. They say it’s improper, some shit about students staying at teachers’ houses. Kaz will back me up though, and you just have to say, well we’ve worked out a story.’

‘What story?’

Trish looked to Kaz and Kaz looked back, and the looks said they both knew how crap this would sound.

‘Kaz is going to say she knows me, through a friend we’ve both got, and that Zinny got sick. She had to take him to the doctor’s and she rang me, asked me to come over and watch you, but I was waiting for a call from overseas, so you came to me instead.’

Her voice trailed away at the end, like she was embarrassed to be saying it. The sort of story a child might make up, when they knew they were going to be snapped. But these weren’t children. They were adults; made children by the sort of people who would never deserve that sort of respect. Well not Sharon. No way.

‘That’s bullshit. Nothing happened. It’s crap. I called in. We talked, we shared some beers, I crashed. So what?’

‘Yes, but that’s not how they see things.’

‘Like I care how they see things.’

Sharon felt her jaw tightening. She was getting comfortable now. She had her position and there was no need to let it go. Trish looked to Kaz, handing over.

‘We need you to go back to school too Sharon,’ Kaz said. ‘It’ll look better, as a witness, if you’re making an effort.’

‘You don’t listen do you? I assaulted the Deputy Principal. And I’m glad I did too. There’s no way I’m going back there.’

Sharon turned to leave and Trish jumped up, like she was thinking of grabbing her.

‘Mark’s explained it all to his father Sharon, about the exam. They’ll understand.’

‘I don’t want his help. He’s a retard.’

‘No Sharon, he’s a friend.’

‘You’re joking right? You just don’t get it do you?’

‘Oh, I get it alright. I get it perfectly well.’

Trish stepped further forward, close enough to let a punch go. She was angry now, not trying to hold it in.

‘I get that all you ever do is reject anyone who might be able to help you. Because you don’t want to try anything. Because you’re scared. It’s bullshit, and it’s time that you woke up.’

‘No, you’re bullshit.’ Trish had been shouting and Sharon shouted back. Just like it got with Kaz, only this time Kaz had been subbed off. ‘I fucken try. I try all the time. I tried with your stupid writing. I tried with that Maths test. Look where that got me.’

‘You try until the first little thing goes wrong Sharon, then you’re picking up desks and spitting on teachers. It’s weak Sharon. You’re weak. You know what they say you should do when you find yourself in a hole? They say you should stop digging. It’s about time you worked that out.’

‘I’m not doing it okay? I’m not going down there and I’m not apologising to anybody, or lying to them about Zinny being sick. I’m not giving in.’

‘Jesus Sharon.’ Kaz was still sitting. She spoke quietly, bringing them both back down. ‘It’s not giving in. Don’t you get that? They’re happy you left. Fucken delighted. They wanted an excuse to kick you out. So who’s won eh? Who’s given in?’

Maybe it could have made sense, some other place, some other mood, but Sharon’s defences were shut way too tight. She wasn’t going to let anything in.

‘I need your help Sharon. I’m asking for it.’ Trish stepped back as she spoke, like she was making space for Sharon to hand her something. ‘I’ll help you too.’

‘You can’t help me. You’re full of shit. Every time someone like Flynn tells you to jump you jump don’t you? Well fuck that.’

Sharon could see the hurt the words were doing, the red in Trish’s cheeks getting darker, her eyes blinking the water free.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

‘Then I might as well leave.’

Trish let the sentence hang in the air, a big full stop over the whole conversation. She didn’t move. Sharon could see the ends of her mouth beginning to twitch. She wanted someone to say something, to tell her to stay, but no one did.

So Trish walked out, head down to hide the tears, brushing past Sharon who didn’t step aside, not even looking across at Kaz as she went.

‘You’re a bloody fool kid,’ Kaz said when she had gone. ‘I think she might have helped you.’

‘You don’t know her,’ Sharon replied. ‘There’s other ways.’

‘Maybe.’

And it was over, signalled with a single uncertain word. Kaz was better than anyone at burying an argument.

‘Here, I got you this by the way.’

Kaz pulled out a fold of notes. The money from the jacket. Sharon didn’t count it. Kaz was straight, about some things. Maybe her timing was lousy, but she was straight.

‘This is yours.’

‘Where did you get it?’ Sharon asked.

‘Had it coming,’ was all Kaz said, and Sharon knew there was nothing good down that path, so she didn’t ask.

‘Right. Thanks.’

‘It’s your money.’

‘Where’s Derek?’

‘Packing. We’re going away for the weekend, leaving tomorrow afternoon. Can you stay round here, look after Zinny?’

Sharon had no choice, still holding the money in her hand, sitting across from her mother on a day she was running short of people she could rely on.

‘Why can’t you take him with you?’

‘Why do you think?’ Kaz replied. ‘Come on girl. As a favour. I need it.’

Sharon looked at Kaz’s face and saw the way the lines around her eyes had deepened. How, if you concentrated just on her mouth, with a cigarette always close, you could believe you were looking at someone much older. The same things Kaz would notice, when she looked in the mirror.

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘I’ll be back late on Sunday. Thanks matey. You’re the best.’

The next night, after Kaz’d gone and Zinny had fallen asleep in front of the TV, there was a knock on the door. It was Justin, grinning at her when she answered, like it was just another day, like he hadn’t heard. Like it wasn’t all about timing.

‘Hi ya.’

‘What do you want?’ Sharon asked, as if she didn’t know.