Will (24 page)

I had plenty to do to keep me out of the way. Brother Patrick had given me a whole list of jobs, including making sure that everything was present and accounted for and in the right spot—meaning instruments, music stands, leads and amps—overseeing sound checks and the tuning of the instruments, and ensuring the sheet music was in the right order and ready to go. I wondered fleetingly how someone like me who did everything to make sure I had a low profile had become so high profile. But for the moment it didn’t matter because it kept me busy, and out of the way of the leading man and lady. Elizabeth did call out and ask me with her hands why I hadn’t returned her calls. Mark didn’t even acknowledge my existence.

I was the only person in the hall who wasn’t pumped. Having the juniors there made it work. They were excited enough about missing out on school. The oldies from the homes were already in
love with the show before it even started. It was exactly the type of audience you wanted for a practice run.

The geeks were noisier than usual but, unlike most other times, I didn’t tell them to shut up. I sat back and happily let Brother Pat run the show. The Freak hid behind his trombone and didn’t move. I could hear Andrews delivering his third last motivational speech to everyone backstage.

The lights went out and we started with the overture. Elizabeth opened with her first line and it was on….

Only ten hours to go before it was over.

Brother Pat seemed to think it was a good run-through. I wasn’t really watching, although I did notice that one of the Year 7 girls came on wearing the wrong costume, but I think that was about it. Most people were hanging around school or meeting up early before opening night. Me? I left school the way I’d arrived, slinking out, grabbing my bike and riding fast all the way home.

After I’d had a shower Mum said I looked better than she had seen me all week. Which was a good thing considering I had some serious spade work to do with Elizabeth about not returning her phone calls. I couldn’t even think about the Freak and Mark.

I tried to tell Mum I was happy to ride to school but this time she wasn’t having it. When we pulled up outside the hall I got myself and my guitar case out of the car. Foolishly, I thought I was safe. She leaned over across the seat and spoke to me out the window.

Will?

Yes, Mum?

I am so very proud of all that you have achieved
.

I shrank to the smallest I had shrunk all day. Her eyes were glassy and she had one of those
I’m going to cry
smiles.

I couldn’t deal with any more scenes or any more praise. If only these people knew what a hypocrite I was. I was only just keeping it together. I knew I had to make a speedy exit before she mentioned the D word.

Thanks, Mum
, I mumbled, then I grabbed my stuff and ran.

Mum’s words stayed in my head. What did she mean, achieved? Yeah, I had achieved in hurting people and acting like a cowardly dickhead. And proud? Proud of what? It wasn’t as if I had transformed into bloody Chris! I mean, had she forgotten how I’d gotten into all of this in the first place?

I changed into my muso black and made my way out to the band. The unfeeling, uncaring state that had got me through the day evaporated. My guts started to churn like they do before you have to sit a big exam or play in a soccer final. I walked toward the pit, telling myself to chill out. I looked over at the Freak and watched Mark do his final warm-up and my guts began to churn even more. I sat down, pulled out the guitar and knew that at least for the next three hours I was going to be safe.

I wasn’t the only one on edge. Andrews was too, but considering this was all his doing I didn’t have any sympathy for the bloke. He was onstage throwing instructions with the accuracy and speed of one of those dart players from England.

Everyone should be in their positions!

Offstage and behind those curtains!

Where’s the stage manager? Make sure that the props are where they should be
.

You, yes you, get out of the wings, you can be seen!

Right, band, two minutes until we start the overture. For God’s sake, someone give the kid with the clarinet a hand!

OK, the lights are dimming and one-two-three, play …

Brother Pat, on the other hand, looked as laid-back as any jazz player who’d been around the scene for fifty years.

Right, Will, are you ready to go?

Yes, Brother….

I became anonymous in the darkness of the pit. I listened to the geeks start the first bars of the overture and for the first time that night I relaxed. It was nearly always like that with music for me. I knew for the next three hours I was safe, but more importantly I knew it was three hours where I wouldn’t stuff up. It was only when the whole audience stood and clapped and the house lights came on that I came back to reality and realized that the first night was over. There was no way anyone could not be lifted and carried around by the buzz in the room. It was like the kids were Hollywood stars from the amount of applause and whoops and hurrahs they were getting.

The Year 7 geeks were all over themselves with excitement. Brother Patrick was pumping the hands of old boys who were offering their congratulations.

The best one yet! The best one yet!
he exclaimed.

I could feel myself being carried away with everyone else. I figured after the last few days I was going to get on and ride for as long as I could. I watched Mark and Elizabeth kiss and hug each other, with Andrews, Brother Pat and Ms. Sefton right in among it. I was overwhelmed by a need to make things right. I watched Mark leave the stage and I followed.

Great show, Mark
.

I caught him just before he went into the change rooms. His face shut down as soon as he saw it was me.

Thanks
.

I continued.
Look, I’ve been away, I’ve been—

He interrupted.
Sick, yeah, Chris said you were crook. So how are you feeling now?

His voice was distant.

Yeah, no, better
.

I was no longer floating anywhere. It was pretty obvious that Mark wasn’t OK, and knew I wanted to apologize for being piss weak in front of everybody and not backing him up. I knew what I wanted to say but I couldn’t say it. Looking at Mark, I began to wonder whether saying anything was going to make any difference anyway.

I tried to get things back to normal.

So I suppose I’ll see you at the pizza place once you’ve said hello to everyone?

No, I don’t think I’ll be going tonight
.

He continued to stare at me, his face unreadable.

Right
.

We both looked at one another, neither one of us saying anything. Quiet. He wasn’t going to speak first, it had to come from me. I took a deep breath.

Mark, I’m sorry
.

His eyes flashed, the first sign of a reaction.

Sorry for what I didn’t do the other day. At the tuckshop, you know when those—

He cut me off.
Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re talking about, Will. What have you got to be sorry about? You didn’t have to do anything, you weren’t involved
.

That’s the point, Mark, I wasn’t involved and I made bloody sure I wasn’t. Then when you tried to talk to me afterwards I dogged you completely
.

He fired up now.

Look, Will, as far as the tuckshop incident was concerned, I dealt with it. Those wankers won’t say anything to me again because they’re cowards
.

He turned to walk away, then thought better of it.

But you know what I thought you might have apologized for? For treating me like I was some sort of freak in the quad. You said it, Will, you did completely dog me. It was pretty obvious you didn’t want anyone to know we had anything to do with each other. So why is it so different now? Because no one can see us? That’s not being a mate, Will! I don’t even treat people I can’t stand like that
.

Silenced. Burning.

Mark, I …

Yeah, you’re sorry. But you know that’s a bullshit easy word to say, especially when you’ve already said it once. It doesn’t mean anything unless you back it up with what you do
.

With that he turned away and walked toward the crowds of people who wanted to congratulate him. I stood there not knowing what to do or say.

I felt myself engulfed in a bear hug of the kind I’d had all my life.

I told you I had every reason to be proud of your accomplishments
.

Round two and I was still reeling from the KO Mark had just served. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to stay upright.

Thanks
. I tried to deflect Mum’s praise. I couldn’t stand any more.
But it’s those guys who should get the biggest rap
.

Just as I said this Elizabeth looked in my direction and waved. All week I had waited for the next time I saw her but not now! Please not now! She made her way over.

I began to feel the familiar reddening of my cheeks.

Goodness, dear, you look a little flushed all of a sudden, maybe you haven’t fully recovered
.

Hey, Will
.

She hadn’t changed out of her costume. She was shining, like she had one of those spotlights on her as she walked through the crowd. She looked at Mum and introduced herself.

Hi. Mrs. Armstrong? I’m Elizabeth
.

Mum looked at me inquiringly and smiled. I willed her to say nothing.

Elizabeth, I thought you were wonderful. Such a beautiful voice
.

I needed out. Mum and Elizabeth were so bloody happy and
laughing and proud and I continued to head farther and farther into a deep, dark space. I looked over at Brother Pat and found my escape.

Sorry, you guys. Got to go and pack up
.

Mum beamed but Elizabeth looked confused and a little angry. Someone else to add to the list.

For the second time that week I felt like I was going to throw up, really throw up: dry mouth, foul taste in the back of my throat. I changed direction. I figured one hour of Mum drilling me on why I had left and a telephone apology to Elizabeth were better than a full-on public meltdown.

I made my way round the hall, trying to stick to the walls, as far away from the backslapping and congratulations as possible. I had just about made it to the doors when I heard my name.

Will? William Armstrong?

I turned around very slowly. This was all I needed.

Yes, sir?

I came face to face with the man the Freak would become in twenty years’ time, except he didn’t have that dorkiness about him. He looked pretty much like any guy his age who was dressed in jeans and a jumper.

Pleased to meet you. I’m Frank Cohen, Zach’s father
.

No!!!!!

Nice to meet you
.

Bad. Bad. Very, very bad!

I really wanted to introduce myself
.

OK, so all I could do was apologize for traumatizing his son for life. I might be told where I could shove my apology for the second time tonight, but what else could I do?

Look, Mr. Cohen, I can—

He interrupted. I braced myself to be ripped apart.

No, Will, let me speak
.

I shut up and he stared at me with those familiar ancient eyes.

I wanted to thank you
.

Right. So this guy was clearly mad, which would explain a lot about the Freak really.

Thank me? No, Mr. Cohen, you really don’t need to …

I started to feel sick in the stomach again and that filthy taste right at the back of my throat made me want to gag.

I needed you to know just how much you have done for Zach over the past couple of months. He hero-worships you. He doesn’t stop talking about you at home
.

This was one trillion times worse than the bloke giving me a proper serve. I tried to interrupt him again, to tell him he’d got it all wrong, but he wouldn’t let me.

No, Will, let me finish. I think what I am about to tell you is important for you to know. You know Zach’s had a really difficult time fitting into high school. It looks like he’s one of those kids that the boys target. But he’s such a nice kid and he’s had far too much to deal with already
.

There were no words for how bad I was feeling.

He never talks about it, but his mum left when he was nine
.

This time I gagged.

Are you all right, Will?

Idiot! Idiot! I was such a huge idiot! He always went on about his dad, never his mum. I should have known something had gone down there.

That was when he started to withdraw. He just didn’t want to get involved in stuff that the other boys did
.

That explains the library at lunchtime.

I suppose I didn’t help much because I’d tell him he should stand up and be an individual, but that’s hard for any twelve-year-old
.

I thought about Zach at the pizza place telling Mark he had nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t tell, and me in the quad walking away from Mark. There was only one coward in that scenario.

That’s why I wanted to thank you
.

Thank me! The guy should be shooting me!

You obviously have the right connections, because as soon as the word got around that you and he were mates everyone backed off. He’s a different kid
.

I was so, so sorry. And so screwed up I couldn’t do anything about it.