Spud (8 page)

16:00   House touch rugby. Even Sparerib joined in and scored four tries although I think sometimes he was let through rather than got through. This time there were no injuries (but Simon and Pike nearly had a punch-up after Pike slapped Simon on the back.) Julian seems to have mastered the art of sprinting up behind an opposition player and squeezing his buttocks instead of the usual tap on the shoulder or legs – it was a relief to be on his side.

Spent the evening with Catch 22 which is ridiculous but funny. I think it’s even more absurd than Godot. It’s about a squadron of air force pilots during the Second World War. I often had to put my hand in front of my mouth to stop myself laughing out loud.

Rambo’s sulking about being dropped from the cricket team and refused to talk to Simon, Mad Dog and me. Boggo told us that Rain Man has been sent home, where his mother will decide on his future. Boggo reckoned that Sparerib and Eve are beside themselves with worry over Roger the cat, who hasn’t eaten since Vern went to the nuthouse and keeps returning to their hiding place under the crypt to howl and whine.

10:00   Mad Dog took a hat trick (3 wickets in 3 balls), which is only the third hat trick in the school’s history. What was even more remarkable was the fact that Mad Dog bowled three straight deliveries in a row. His final figures read 8 – 14 in four overs. Arlington was all out for 26. The poor opposition batsmen were so frightened of Mad Dog’s searing pace that their last two batsmen refused to bat until threatened with a slow torturous, death by their coach.

My parents arrived ten minutes after the game finished at 11:05. They took out their deckchairs and wine glasses and kicked off a merry celebration. The sight of my folks opening up bottles of wine was too much for The Guv, who sprinted across the field to join them, closely followed by Sparerib, who also seemed anxious to join the party. I was too embarrassed to sit with them so I kicked a rugby ball with Simon on the deserted cricket field.

After some time my father opened another two bottles of wine, and suddenly The Glock strolled over and joined the group. From where I was, I could see my mother holding court with a long story that had everyone in stitches. Dad was laughing so much that his deckchair collapsed and he spilt his wine all over himself. Sparerib and The Glock howled with laughter and helped Dad to his feet.

Then Luthuli arrived and Sparerib introduced him to my parents. (I noticed my father skulking off to check that his car was locked. He’s convinced that all black people are thieves.) Luthuli whispered something in Sparerib’s ear and then the two shook my parents’ hands and marched off back towards the school. The Glock downed his wine, nodded and sauntered off. Only then did I dare go over to greet my parents.

It turns out that The Guv and Dad had just worked out that they had shared digs during their university days. The Guv moved on to a doctorate in English at Oxford and my dad quit varsity and went into dry-cleaning. The Guv then began telling a dodgy story about my dad and him visiting a seedy Point Road brothel. That was my cue to exit and I left my folks and my English teacher to some serious drinking and stories about the good old days when sixpence could buy you dinner, a flick and a taxi home.

18:00   On my way to supper I heard the unmistakable explosion of the station wagon roaring to life. My parents have spent seven hours on a drinking binge with my English teacher! I think I may have to give myself up for adoption.

20:00   The Saturday movie is a thriller called Jagged Edge with Glenn Close. Everybody reckons she’s sexy because (according to Boggo) she gave Michael Douglas a blowjob in a lift in Fatal Attraction. To everyone’s disappointment she doesn’t even take her clothes off in this movie. At one point, the killer’s hand crashed through a window. Everyone got a huge fright, but Gecko was the only one who screamed. What followed was much hooting and jeering led by a snarling Pike. Gecko, who has only just begun sitting down after his bum infection, turned bright red and desperately fought back tears.

I found a chocolate on my bed and a note from Earthworm that read:

Victory is mine!

Spent the day reading Catch 22. Some passages are so funny and absurd that I couldn’t help chuckling out loud. In the afternoon, during free bounds, I crossed the railway line and stretched out and read under the pine trees. Some minutes later I noticed Boggo creeping through the fence carrying his porno magazine. He looked around suspiciously and then snuck into some thick bushes. I pretended not to see him.

Middle of the night. Woke up to wild screams. I disentangled myself from my Good Knight duvet to discover that Simon was on fire. Pike had set him alight with a lighter and a can of deodorant. Pike’s sidekick, Devries, then poured an entire rubbish bin of water over my cricket captain before sprinting out the dormitory cackling and jeering.

Simon, Rambo and Mad Dog sat together and discussed revenge. When I joined the group, Rambo stopped talking, stared at me and said, ‘I don’t remember inviting you over here, Spud.’ I gulped and blushed and went back to my cubicle, feeling humiliated.

Four days to the long weekend!

Valentine’s Day. All the boys eagerly await letters and cards. I don’t know any girls so I joined the ranks of those who pretended to be busy at breaktime.

Simon got five cards, Rambo two and Mad Dog got
one, although judging by the spelling and writing it’s most likely that he sent it to himself. The envelope was addressed:

And there was no stamp.

One of Simon’s cards was erotic. The girl said she wanted to get hot and steamy with him. The card smelled of perfume and was signed
Your Horny Admirer.
Boggo asked Simon if he could have the card. Simon refused. Boggo asked if he could borrow it briefly. Simon refused. Boggo then offered Simon free use of his porno magazine. Simon handed over the card.

Lunch again with The Guv. This time he only had a single glass of wine. He said he really likes my parents and called them humble people. He reckons that money is the world’s greatest corrupter. We chatted about Catch 22 and he asked me to read some extracts aloud. We both cackled away at the ‘Major Major’ section and the hilarious wit of Yossarian.

On the way back to the house I noticed Roger the cat prowling around outside the crypt. He looked dreadful. He’s all skin and bones and half his fur has fallen out.

Everybody’s talking about what they are going to do on the weekend. (Friday is our mid-term break and we all get to go home for a long weekend.) Rambo, Simon and Boggo are returning to Johannesburg. Mad Dog’s going to Mozambique on a fishing trip with his older brother (Bad Dog). Fatty and I return to Durban, and Gecko’s staying at school because his folks are overseas. Rain Man is still at home and Boggo reckons that he probably won’t be coming back. I kind of miss the odd thunk of hair being pulled out and the general weirdness of my cubicle mate.

Three days to go!

08:00   Glockenshpeel called an emergency assembly. As he swept into the hall with his dark gown flaring out behind him, I couldn’t help but notice the faintest glint of a smile across his lips. After a prayer and a few announcements he told the school about Mad Dog’s hat trick and then called him up and shook his hand. Mad Dog made a funny bow to the boys after shaking the big man’s hand, and received some raucous laughter and a few hisses. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the bow that was stirring up the crowd but rather the fact that Mad Dog’s fly was down and he was wearing bright red underpants.

Once the hilarity had faded, The Glock stared grimly at us and then said slowly, ‘I believe my investigations into the banana vandalism affair have borne fruit. Would Stott and Emberton report to my office immediately’ With that he stalked out of the hall with long strides and a great air of triumph. After a deathly hush we all began to whisper amongst ourselves. Emberton, a third year from our house, smiled and gave the “V” sign in defiance. Stott, a third year from King house, looked pale and terrified.

Breaktime news was that Emberton and Stott were ratted on by a first year called Peter Scrawley (now named Rat Face and worse) from King house, who saw Emberton and Stott leaving the house late at night with a bunch of bananas. A hit has already been placed on his head. The two suspects spent the morning in meetings with Glockenshpeel.

18:00   Emberton and Stott have been suspended, pending expulsion. This means they’ve been ordered to go home and their expulsion will become finalised
once Glockenshpeel has consulted with the board of governors.

Rumour has it that Scrawley was found unconscious in the King house bogs. Apparently, somebody clubbed him from behind with a cricket bat. Boggo says he’s been sent home.

22:00   Emberton, dressed in civvies, is talking quietly to Mad Dog in his cubicle. (Boggo says they’re second cousins.) The whispering goes on long into the night.

Two days to go!

The Glock told the assembly that Emberton and Stott are to be expelled and that their parents have already removed them from the school.

Mad Dog lowered the house flag to half mast after assembly. Sparerib saw him and gave him hard labour.

13:00   A big notice on the house board read:

SCHOOL PLAY. This year’s school play will be Oliver. Singing auditions will be held tomorrow afternoon in the music centre.

Drama was cancelled and we were told to read three chapters on medieval theatre history instead under the watchful eye of Mr Cartwright. Eve has rushed Roger to the vet after he collapsed outside the crypt where he’s been waiting for Rain Man.

Pike pissed on Gecko in the showers. Devries was waiting with his camera as Gecko charged into the toilet with his hand over his mouth. Bert was there but thought the whole scene absolutely hilarious.

Mad Dog told us he was going bat hunting and skulked
out of the dormitory. From my window I watched him creep around the cloisters of the main quad and then slip down towards the exterior door of the crypt.

After no more than ten minutes, Mad Dog crept back into the dormitory looking pale and nervous. He said he couldn’t find any bats and that he wasn’t feeling well. I felt strangely uneasy tonight – been thinking about Vern and Roger the cat and the expulsion of Emberton who seems like a good guy with much spirit and humour.

One day to go!

Woke up wet. Rain was pouring through my open window. The first chill of autumn is about and for the first time I put on my grey polo-necked jersey.

Our third assembly in a row. Glockenshpeel entered the hall in a furious rage. Another banana had been planted in his car’s exhaust pipe. This time he’d spotted the dangerous fruit before any damage was done. He was so steamed that he threatened to expel the whole school if he had to. With that he stormed out of the hall leaving everyone staring after him in fear and amazement.

15:00   Even more terror shotthrough me as I discovered a long line of boys waiting to audition for the school play. After an hour of waiting I at last had my chance. I entered a small room and there stood Eve, a savage looking master called Mr Richardson (nickname Viking) and Ms Roberts, who sat at the piano. Eve greeted me with a warm smile. On her lap lay a half bald Roger who stared vacantly at the ceiling.

Viking said, ‘Right, Master Milton, let’s see what you can do.’ He then asked me to sing a song called I’ll Do Anything which I vaguely knew from primary school. I suddenly felt terrified and my voice came out all weak and shaky like it was coming from somewhere other
than my own mouth. After a few lines Viking stood up and shouted, ‘Thank you. Next!’ With that any hopes for a career as an actor were obliterated. The next minute I was outside and walking slowly back through the grey drizzle to the house. I felt crushed; my first and only audition had been a complete disaster. I moped into the common room, sank into a chair and tried to watch the soap operas.

Boggo reckons that Emberton and Stott may not be expelled. They were clearly not at school last night and now have a stronger case for their innocence. (Emberton’s father is also an influential sugar farmer who has donated thousands to the school. Apparently he’s furious and considering a lawsuit.)

I think I know who planted last night’s banana.

22:30   Fatty has gone nuts. He told us that he was ready to reveal all about the teacher who hanged himself. He summoned us all into his cubicle, lit two candles and placed them on his locker. The six of us crowded around him, strangely entranced by his spooky rituals. Before he began, he called for total silence until he was finished. He then closed his eyes, took a deep breath and, in a low voice, he began his story:

The year was 1944. The world was at war. Every week a memorial service was being held for an old boy who had died in the fighting. During the sermon of a Sunday Eucharist one of the boys looked up and saw the body of English teacher Miles Macarthur swinging from a rope. The chaplain at the time, an old fossil by the name of Faulkner, had such poor eyesight that he thought the swinging corpse was part of the Christmas decorations. The school was in an uproar. Boys were sent home and the school closed for the holidays a week early. Faulkner and the headmaster, Aubrey Thomas, both resigned, although it was claimed that this had nothing to do with the death of Macarthur. The local
paper made a passing reference to a local teacher who had died under suspicious circumstances.

‘The thing is,’ said Fatty with a moggy intensity, ‘the thing is… everything’s been hushed up. The archival material, files, police reports and death certificates are all missing. There are huge gaps in the records of the days and weeks that followed. If you look at the archives for any other time, there are almost daily reports, clips, articles and entries – but at the end of 1944 and beginning of ‘45 suddenly there are massive gaps. The school was definitely covering things up!’ Fatty thumped his fists on his locker and glared at us in triumph like he’d just solved the mystery of the JFK assassination.