A Uniform Approach

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by Andrew Elstone


  “Are we saying grace?”

  To our family that was an odd request. Mum didn’t believe in God and Dad didn’t have the time to argue with her, so we never saw the need to do it. That said, Mum always said we had to accommodate for guests in our home, so we all put our heads down and hoped it would end quickly so we could eat. But praying wasn’t the worst thing to happen tonight; in fact if I had known what was going to happen next, I might have put in a prayer or two of my own to stop it.

  “So what are you going to wear tomorrow, buddy? Another skirt? Ooh or how about a cape this time?”

  I could feel the room getting even more silent than before when we were all pretending to pray.

  Rachel let out a giggle and Dad glared at her and didn’t see anything funny about it at all.

  “I dunno mate. Probably go back to shorts aye.”

  I said, hoping to keep peace among everyone. That said, I still didn’t understand what the big deal was about it. Even still, I got comfortable in my seat knowing full well I was in for a nag now.

  “How are you enjoying the pudding, Benjamin?” Mum said hoping to move the conversation along.

  “Oh great stuff, Mrs Goldsmith! Much better than ’Mum’s mac n cheese specialty!”

  Mum and I both knew it was easy to distract Benjamin. He had a memory you wish he didn’t have, but the attention span of a moth.

  After dessert, we headed back upstairs and started working on our science project. Mr Symonds wants us all to work on creating the greenhouse effect in a jar. We weren’t sure how it all worked, but we had a few weeks to do it so we decided to eat tim-tams from my sister’s secret goodies cupboard and talk about how we could bash Scott McElroy when we next see him.

  “Are you worried about seeing Scott tomorrow, mate?”

  “Nah, probably just won’t sit in our usual spot so he doesn’t know where to find me aye. Find a new spot to sit!”

  I saw Ben frown and pout his mouth as if he’d just been told he couldn’t have any more tim-tams.

  “Everything’s changing now.”

  I looked at him with a puzzled expression.

  “Relax mate, it’s just a skirt. Everyone will be over it by tomorrow. Like the time you called Miss Walker ‘mum’ and they hounded you for a few hours until Louie Dixon farted in PE. You were…”

  “It’s not about the bloody skirt, Riley!”

  He interrupted without thinking. I was pretty surprised; usually this kid was never that bold. I saw him put his chocolate stained fingers to his face as he slumped by the bedpost trying now not to look me in the eyes.

  “I think something’s wrong with my mum. And no one will tell me nothing.” I didn’t really know what to say to him, or if I should pat him on the back like Dad did to Mum when our pop passed away. I just looked at him as he tried to hold back from turning over and sobbing on my pillow. There was something about him though that worried me, and I now had a sudden feeling that his mum and dad didn’t just go on a vacation.

  Chapter 4

  The vice-captain still had the sneer on his grubby little face when we walked through the gate again the next morning, but at least it stopped the minute he saw someone come in listening to an iPod that he would be glad to confiscate.

  “It’s like you said, just like the fart in PE.”

  I giggled when Ben said that. “Yeah mate, just like that.”

  I’m surprised Ben actually knew what I was talking about. Usually he hears something about a fart and forgets all the other details.

  Ben looked at me looking confused. “So where are we going to sit, then?”

  I looked around trying to find a spot where Scott McElroy wouldn’t be likely to use it as a hunting ground. I decided to go to the silver benches by the handball courts which could go either way. There were lots of people around, so he may decide to leave us alone to avoid getting caught. But I saw immediately that I was wrong. He came stomping towards me, making an effort to splash every puddle along the way. I got a shaky feeling in my gut watching him loom over me, the way Dad always would whenever I stuck pieces of Lego into the DVD player. I knew Dad was ready for battle, and it seemed like Scott McElroy was ready for war.

  As he splashed the red bull around his mouth, ready to shower me in that sticky mess, Mr Symonds called out to us.

  “I assume you’re both discussing the assignment I have given you? Good to see! But it’s time for class lads! Better get a move on.”

  Scott sneered at me as he turned away from me and Benjamin and walked away from us. At this point, Mr Symonds walked up with a familiar grin on his face.

  “How is the greenhouse glass jar project coming along, mate?”

  “Yeah, not bad.”

  I replied hoping there would be no more follow up questions. I hated it when teachers talked to you like they were your friends. They think they’re on the same level as you when really they don’t have a clue what we’re all thinking and what we’re all going through. He didn’t give a crap about my glass jar project; he was only here to make sure I didn’t get myself into any serious trouble.

  “Mine’s going great, Mr Symonds! I’ve painted my greenhouse in a light green because Riley didn’t have any fluro paints in his house,” Benjamin interrupted with a keenness that I wasn’t able to match.

  Mr Symonds smiled back at him and grasped his shoulder as encouragement and replied, “I admire your enthusiasm, Benny. Although I think I may need to be a little clearer with you in our next class about what the greenhouse effect actually is. Keep up the effort though!”

  He walked off, laughing to himself as teachers would often do whenever they spoke with Benjamin.

  We walked into class and Mr Symonds was sitting at his desk, reading a book as usual. He’d normally give us the first 10 minutes of the class to run around talking and mucking around until we tired, out and then he’d plan his strike and tell us to take out last night’s homework when we were least expecting it. Before that happened though, the same knock on the door occurred and it was Liam Burnes the guidance counsellor. He gestured his finger in a way that suggested he wanted me to come outside with him without alarming the other kids or Mr Symonds. I left my stuff on the desk this time as I wanted to come back to class as soon as I could. As I went outside, Liam greeted me with a high-five and a rustling of my hair.

  “How are we travelling today, matey?” he asked sounding like he actually gave a toss.

  “Yeah, good thanks! Was saved out in the playground this morning so no hassles here.”

  “Oh great, that’s just excellent,” he said without actually sounding surprised or even relieved.

  We continued to force a conversation whilst walking down the hall towards his office, mainly talking about how many projects the teachers have been giving us, and whether or not I was participating in the upcoming school jazz festival. The answers to those topics being ‘too many’ and ‘absolutely not’. We finally sat down, but this time he didn’t offer me the beanbag chair; he insisted I sit directly opposite his desk. This guy meant business today.

  “So Riley, I’m glad things have settled down for you today. I hope our talk yesterday helped?”

  “Yeah it was good,” I said waiting for him to get to the point.

  “That’s awesome! And I hear you’ve had Ben with you since last night. Is it good having him around?”

  I was immediately puzzled by his question. I’d seen enough Agatha Christie episodes with Mum to know when to smell a rat. Some things didn’t add up here. How did he know Benjamin was staying with me? And why did he care? That said, if it meant that we no longer had to talk about my choice of school uniform than I’d happily welcome talking about Ben. So I responded quickly, “Yeah it’s been fun. We watched videos on YouTube last night. Just dumb cat videos and stuff, the usual.”

  Mr Burnes didn’t seem too interested by us having watched YouTube, as if he had more important matters on his mind. Which surprised me given how much time he spent trying to convince
us kids that He was cool and up-to-date with technology. I would’ve thought mentioning YouTube would make his eyes light right up.

  “That sounds like a good time! It’s good he’s got a friend like you at the moment.”

  “What do you mean at the moment?” I said, now wondering where the hell this conversation was going.

  “Ben’s home life is just a bit hectic at the moment, so until things cool off a bit he’s just staying with your family. As I’m sure you know. So it’s just a good idea to keep him occupied. If you guys like going on YouTube that’s awesome, but you might also wanna try something like helping out with the upcoming school jazz festival, or organising the parent/child three-legged race for the athletics carnival, or something like that. Might be good for him. And for you.”

  That’s the worst part about therapy; you always end up having signed up for something by the end of it. If only he could just listen to me talk about my feelings and then let me be on my way without giving me a three-legged race sign-up sheets and a bundle of raffle tickets. No wonder the poor kids Mum saw all the time never seemed to get any less depressed.

  I walked back towards the classroom, flicking through the raffle tickets in fear of how many I had to sell, hoping desperately that Mum would bite the bullet for me and buy the whole bunch. She might like that idea as winning the meat tray means not having to do a load of shopping for an entire month, which she always complained she never had time to do.

  I approached the door and reached out my hand to clasp the handle when I heard a lot of noise coming from the room. I walked in timidly not knowing what to expect when I saw it ‒ two boys were rolling around on the floor like a couple of stray dogs in the park, chairs were pushed to the side as the other kids were cheering them on. “Smash ’im, smash ’im, smash ’im!”

  Mr Symonds was trying to pull one off the other, and when he did that was when I noticed that it wasn’t just any two boys. It was Scott McElroy on top, that was a given. And the other one was none other than my pudgy, unhygienic blabbermouth of a friend: Benjamin.

  Chapter 5

  That night at home, the dinner was much more awkward than the night before, and it wasn’t just because we had to pray again. Praying might have actually been a good use of the silence because Benjamin wasn’t saying a word. Normally around food you wouldn’t hear a peep out of anyone else ‒ he had a knack for stuffing his face with Kentucky Fried Chicken as he told stories about his day whilst everyone else watched with their mouths open wide in shock, like they’d just witnessed a hurricane hoover up the furniture in the backyard.

  Eventually, Dad decided to speak up, which normally I’d be shivering in my socks about, but this time I’d allow him to carry on.

  “Was speaking to my mate Vinnie from the league club today. They’re bloody increasing security at the airport to scan people before they get on planes. That’s another lot of jobs we can all say goodbye to!”

  Dad was world renowned for his hatred of technology. I mean he liked the idea that he could use Sportsbet on his iPhone; he just didn’t like it when it took the jobs of true-blue Aussies.

  “I thought Vinnie now worked at the docks?” Mum asked.

  Mum didn’t like when Dad would go on one of his rants, but she was like me in that it was better than watching Benjamin rot in his own misery.

  “Nah, he tried it for a bit but they cut his weekend rates. The poor bugger’s got a mortgage in Footscray and a missus so he had to go back to the Terminal.”

  “Footscray is a lovely area these days,” Mum said looking at me, scrambling around Dad’s intolerant rant, hoping to find something that I could learn something valuable from.

  Dad rattled on, but I stopped listening the moment he started on about something to do with politics. I was starting to get worried about Benjamin. We’d spent the past couple of days fearing being hassled by Scott McElroy, but suddenly Benjamin was ready to knock his buck-tooth out of his thick head. I was eager for Mum to hurry up and give us our mini-magnum for dessert, so that we could then go back up to my room. Until suddenly Benjamin interrupted Dad.

  “I might go to bed Mrs Goldsmith, I’m pretty tired.”

  Benjamin didn’t look tired to me, just flat. Like when you take a plant out of the sun and into the shade. Like my greenhouse effect plant looked pretty much all of the time.

  “Be sure to brush your teeth, and not just the ones we can see!” Mum said with a hint of laughter in her voice hoping to cheer him up. It didn’t work. He wandered up the stairs and the rest of the table sat in silence for a few moments. Dad coughed into his hand and looked at me with a lightness in his expression.

  “He’ll be right mate!”

  Dad then nodded at me as if he’d said something genius. I knew full well he hadn’t, but Dad was only a man. He was trying to make me feel better about my best friend, and that was the nicest thing he’d said about anyone in some time.

  Chapter 6

  That morning in the playground, I saw Benjamin sitting at our usual spot, the spot we agreed not to sit at anymore because we knew Scott McElroy could target us there without a single person to witness it. He didn’t seem like he gave a toss today, like he couldn’t feel anything. Which worried me as since I’ve been wearing the skirt the, steel bench has been scorching the back of my legs from the bleedin’ hot sun, and usually he complained that his backside was in flames. But not today.

  The bell rang, so we made our way into assembly as it was now the end of the week. I ran up to Benjamin and my hand met his shoulder with a warm pat on the back and he turned to me and forced a smile. We walked into the school gym and sat on the floor; our teacher Mr Symonds was doing a lap of the room making sure everyone was seated in the correct class groups, and principal Butler was sussing us out from her seat on the stage, watching for the last people to be quiet before she could get up to deliver her sermon. She waited for some of the 3rd graders to stop squabbling with each other in the front row and then got up to deliver her speech. She announced the usual rubbish: they needed more volunteers to organise events for the athletics carnival, the jazz festival and they needed everyone to hand in their permission forms to watch some cartoon giraffe tell us about healthy foods and stuff.

  Then she came out with the following:

  “The school will be putting on a ‘safe in the schoolyard’ program to celebrate diversity amongst students and their families. It will educate children on gender and sexuality in modern Australia, and how we can all help everyone to be able to go to school free from harm. Your guidance counsellor Liam Burnes was the mind behind it and I think it’s something we should all get behind.”

  At this point the kids slowly turned to me with their snarky eyes, and the teachers also couldn’t help but glance over in my direction with unnecessary nods of support. At this point I wanted to pull my skirt over my head and cover my embarrassment. Principal Butler continued talking.

  “At the end of the day, your teachers will give you all a brochure you can take home to your parents so that they may learn exactly what content we are teaching, and that they have no reason to be concerned. We are only wanting to protect our most vulnerable students.”

  I didn’t know what that word meant, ‘vulnerable’; only ever heard Dad use it when he was talking about how those dole bludgers should stop pretending to be so ‘vulnerable’ and pull their socks up and find a job picking fruit. ‘Lord knows we need some fruit pickers in this country,’ he’d exclaim. It’s enough people thinking I’m some kind of freak, but Dad would hit the roof if I have to be a dole bludger as well!

  As the assembly ended and everyone walked out feeling nervous about the idea of having to read books and internet blogs about people like that weird kid in class who wears a skirt, Benjamin suddenly ran off towards the front gate. I could see a figure hiding behind the fig tree under the school notice board. For a kid who once had an asthma attack throwing a Frisbee, he sure didn’t hesitate to bolt to the front gate at top speed. He met this
person with a hug and as she emerged from behind the notice board I noticed it was his mum. She gave him his lunch and a few notes he had to give the teacher, probably to get out of having to do PE lessons for the term. He hugged her tightly and she kissed him on the forehead in a way that my Mum does to me whenever she sees me again after a week of school camp. Although he seemed to be a lot less embarrassed about it than I would be; in fact he looked like he desperately needed her to hold him. As he stuffed the brown paper bag into his backpack, she gave him one last kiss on the head and scuttled off. It was weird; they looked like they were parting, as if he was going off to war or something. Surely they both knew they would see each other again. He was only staying at our place for a couple of weeks anyway.

  Mum and I always joked that a couple of weeks away from Dad and Rach would be a gift from the God that we apparently didn’t believe in.

  I didn’t get much time to talk to Benjamin for the rest of the day. Between Liam summoning me to talk about the school’s new ‘Safe in the Schoolyard’ program, organising the upcoming three-legged race for the carnival and spending my lunchtime trying to perfect my greenhouse in a jar project with Mr Symonds, it was tough trying to get a hold of him. Which is a shame as I’d been on edge waiting to hear what really happened between him and McElroy. This skirt business was suddenly getting out of hand for me. All this time spent on rainbow-flag picture activities and reading on different kinds of parents in the 21st century, it didn’t leave much time to look after my only real friend in the world.

  Chapter 7

  Even though I was worried about Benjamin, having him around meant Dad had to find things for us to do, and given he was out of a job he had plenty of time to take us to the movies, to laser tag and ten-pin bowling. Benjamin especially liked bowling as he liked seeing how his white sneakers glowed in the dark when they turned the fluro lights on. Rachel sometimes came with us, which was fun when we went to laser tag as Benjamin and I would gang up on her and she’d get all stroppy at us which we kind of enjoyed.

 

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