“Will she be back in time for the carnival tomorrow?”
“Don’t think so, mate.”
Benjamin’s face went from happy to shocked to horrified in the space of about 3 seconds. Whilst he knew that Miss Walker had a girlfriend, and unless he was planning on borrowing one of my sister’s skirts, I don’t think he’d be seen as worthy competition; even still he liked having a crush. Kept his mind off things.
Mr Symonds left us to ourselves as the bell rang for class, and we finished setting up the high-jump station and tying up pairs of stockings for the three-legged race and then made our way to class. It was pretty awesome skipping the first half an hour of class and waltzing in like we owned the joint without having our homework checked.
As we opened up our spelling matters textbook, we overheard Scott McElroy and some of his goons in the back of the class whispering and carrying on. I looked over to make sure Benjamin wasn’t listening as I didn’t want them to turn the classroom into thunder dome like last week.
“Oi, did you hear about Miss Walker? Getting married to another chick!” the other boys carried on giggling.
“My Dad says that she’s the one who’s got the principal putting on this safe-living garbage. Trying to brainwash us all to think these people aren’t freaks, so they can make us all like them! Her and Goldchick over there!”
I stared to the front and doodled on my textbook, pretending like I was doing the work, but inside I felt like I was drowning. I don’t know who they thought I was, or who they thought they had to be afraid of. But the nickname was new and one I’m sure would probably stick.
Luckily Mr Symonds interrupted the class.
“Just to remind you all, we have scripture after this morning’s lesson, so remember to go to the right classrooms.” He had to remind us to go to the right classroom as last year I accidentally went to the Islam group and Dad was ready to call the feds once he heard about that, but I actually didn’t mind it.
As the bell rang and we all went to recess, Benjamin got whisked away by Liam the guidance counsellor who said there was a phone call about his mum; I let him know that I’d be waiting for him by our usual hangout and that I’d buy a lamington for him from the tuck shop.
Just before I made my way to buy him the snack, I went back into the classroom to talk to Mr Symonds.
“Hi Mr S,” I said seeming suspiciously enthusiastic.
“How can I help you, Riley?” he replied while still not looking up from marking our spelling tests.
“You know about Miss Walker, yeah?”
“Know what?” he said looking up; now he was the one who was suspicious.
“I heard she’s marrying her partner. A woman?”
“I don’t like to share the personal lives of my colleagues with any students. But if she is, good on her.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Good on her. I just didn’t think you could do that sort of thing here?”
Mr Symonds smiled. “I imagine they went to New Zealand. Her partner is a kiwi of all things. Why are you asking me about this, Riley?”
“No reason,” I said. “I just… Nah, never mind. Have a good one, sir.”
Mr Symonds stood up as I was walking to the door and called out to me.
“Riley, don’t leave just yet; take a seat.”
I went back to the seat, honestly surprised he wanted to keep chatting given a couple of minutes ago, he seemed pretty keen to get rid of me. Like Mum would do whenever I was talking about my day at school and she just wanted to watch The Bachelor in peace.
“Riley, are you asking me about Miss Walker because you feel like other boys are saying what they say about her, about you?”
I nodded, knowing that answering any other way wouldn’t be done convincingly.
“It’s okay mate. We try and provide a safe environment here for all our kids. Just so you know, this program we’re doing at the school isn’t because of you. Or Miss Walker for that matter.”
“It’s not?” I said, having regained my normal breath.
“Not at all. It’s for all of you.”
“But sir, I’m the only one who is going around wearing a skirt. And we’re only 11 years old. I don’t think any of us are gay just yet. I mean, there are a couple you can never be sure about but…”
Mr Symonds was quick to correct me. “Riley, what I mean is the program isn’t here just for you. It’s not just here to support you. It’s here to support everyone.”
I was glad when he said that. I was tired of being everyone’s show and tell for the week, but more to the point it made me feel a bit uneasy. For a program that is meant to support everyone, it sure did seem like it was only supporting me, and maybe Miss Walker. Which got me thinking, who’s supporting Benjamin? While Benjamin was getting ready to surprise me for the athletics carnival, which I was still secretly dreading, maybe I should return the favour.
Chapter 10
Dad was doing laps of the school entrance as he didn’t have time to park and collect us, or rather he didn’t want to get a lecture from the teacher on gate duty about parking in the non-pick up zone.
Benjamin and I jumped in the car like we were in the opening scene of a James Bond movie.
“How was the day, lads?” he said with no real interest as he was more focused on dodging traffic to make sure he could be home in time for Millionaire Hot Seat.
“Good,” Benjamin said. “I got a call from Mum.”
At this point Dad stopped stressing and started to listen.
“She seems to be feeling pretty good, so I should be going home soon.”
Dad was keen to change the subject; so was I if I’m being honest. “How was class? You had scripture today?” Good hell, you knew Dad was desperate for a change of topic if he was happy for us to yap on about God. Scripture was new for me; I was in non-scripture classes, but told Mum and Dad I was scared of Scott McElroy beating me to a pulp, so they agreed to chuck me in the Catholic group so that I could narrowly avoid an atheistic bashing.
“Yeah was good fun. We watched this thing about using computers safely and then we got to go on Facebook.”
“Gee that’s different to the stuff we were taught when I was your age,” said Dad having come from the kind of upbringing where you’d get the cane if you didn’t say your prayers before supper, or so he’d say.
As we pulled into the driveway after having dropped Ben at his place for a reason still not properly explained to me, Mum was standing at the door again, which she was now making a real habit of doing. This time I stayed at the door with Mum and Dad.
“I wanna know what’s going on this time,” I said with my lips pouted and eyes fixed on Mum, making it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.
Mum and Dad exchanged a kind of a look as if they were having a conversation without speaking.
“Come on inside, mate. We need to have a chat.”
They sat me down and Mum sat back in her chair with her legs crossed, as if she were speaking to one of her mental patients.
“Riley, we’ve been very quiet about Benjamin’s parent’s situation in the past few weeks, and we apologise for not keeping you in the loop sooner.”
“Why is she in a rehab?” I asked bluntly. I knew Mum took her patients to these places called rehabs all the time, usually if they spent all their money on pokies, or put needles in their bums, neither of which are issues I would’ve thought Mrs Pigott would have.
Dad responded this time. “Mate, you know how I like to have myself a couple of beers when the footy comes on?”
“Ken!” Mum interrupted as if she was verbally flicking his ear.
“Love, what we’re trying to tell you is that Mrs Pigott was very unwell. She was drinking a lot of the time. Often that is called being an alcoholic, and it makes people very unwell.”
I looked at them blankly. I wasn’t sure if I regretted being so blunt in my asking questions. But I had one more.
“You said she ‘was’ an alcoholic. Is she now better?”
“Unfortunately not. Riley, Mrs Pigott passed away this morning. She died.”
My knees were rattling, so I crossed my legs to keep them warm and to stop them from shaking. I felt like ants were marching all over my skin; I was so bloody shaky.
“She had too much to drink and unfortunately had a car accident, and it saddens us to tell you that she didn’t make it. Riley, Mrs Pigott passed away.”
All I could think about was how this was going to make Benjamin feel. He couldn’t handle bad news at all. When his pet turtle died, he held a memorial in his backyard that lasted almost a month. And we all had to say a few words at a grave he dug up with his own bare hands. Mum and Dad were both staring at me like those rich blokes on Shark Tank do when they hear a stupid invention idea, like power juice bars or bionic undies. I didn’t know what to say or do; what did they want from me?
“Where’s Benjamin? I want to see Benjamin!” I stood up to attention and stared them down. They probably thought I looked pretty stupid at 4 foot 9 with freckles, a pointy nose and a chocolate-stained skirt, but I didn’t care.
“He’s with his father at their home,” Mum said.
I saw Dad was sitting there being quiet as a mouse, eyes red and face white like he’d just seen a ghost.
“Say something, Dad! You always have something to say to the telly, say something to me!”
Dad tried to speak. “I… I don’t know what to say, mate. Just listen to what your mother has to say, okay?”
Mum raised her hand to quieten Dad like she was going to say something more important, like the genius she thought she was.
“Love, Benjamin is with his father at their home. They’re having some quiet time together, but when they’re ready, I’m sure Benjamin will love to see you. He’ll be needing a friend.”
“I want to see him now!” I interrupted not giving a toss about her psycho-babble.
“He needs time to process what is going on, my dear.”
In the middle of our family meeting, I got a buzz in my shirt pocket; it was my phone and I got a Facebook message from Benjamin. Scowling at the two of those meatheads, I headed up to my room and slammed the door the way I always would when Mum wouldn’t let us order pizza for dinner. I took out my phone and saw a message:
‘Hey mate. I hate this.’
Benjamin didn’t hate anything. Not even vegetables, or even Scott McElroy. So this had me worried. Without having a clue in the world what to say to the poor kid, I messaged back the one thing I knew he would want to hear:
‘I know mate. Any chance you feel like sneaking out?’
Chapter 11
We sat together outside the bowling alley where we used to beg strangers for loose change so we could play the arcade games. I thought watching all the kids go in to play games might cheer him up and get him in the mood to go and play Time Crisis 2, but I was totally wrong on that one.
“Should we go home?” I said in defeat.
“Nah,” he said without seeming like he cared either way.
“I bet you’re looking for any excuse not to wind up talking to that looney Liam, aye mate?” I don’t know why I said that; he didn’t exactly find the joke funny. I don’t know what the hell I was doing! I never knew anyone who died before. My grandparents all died before I was born, and Mum and Dad both did Pilates and played Wii Fit so they’re going to live forever. An hour or so ago, I was telling Mum and Dad they were stupid and that I hated them for not letting me see Benjamin, but now I wish I hadn’t done that. It was really hard to know what to say to him. At first I tried to distract him by telling him a funny story about the time Scott McElroy set up his tent at school camp next to an ants nest and left the door flapping all night, but for some reason that only made him tear up even more. God knows what I was meant to do. He didn’t wanna watch any YouTube videos on my phone, or sneak into the cinema to watch the fast and furious movie, even though all the way home the other day he was going on about how he was dying to go back as soon as he could.
“I guess you’ll be giving the athletics carnival a miss? Dodged a bullet there I reckon!”
“Yeah probably not. Shame, I was getting the surprise ready too!”
So much had been going on that I’d forgotten he was preparing this little mystery surprise.
“Shouldn’t you two boys be doing your homework for Mr Symonds?”
We both turned around suddenly and saw Miss Walker and another woman with her. She was chubbier and shorter and had shaved side of her head like she was in one of those rock bands my dad liked back in the olden days.
“Miss Walker? What are you doing here?” I was glad she was here; she was the only person that could cheer Benjamin up.
“Aisha and I got married yesterday in Wellington. Just a small thing, but now we’re back. Aisha manages this place so thought I’d hit her up for a few games.”
After satisfying my question she turned to Benjamin
“We all heard about your mother at Church, Benjamin. I’m terribly sorry for your loss. But the entire church and your friends are here to support you, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks. I dunno really.”
The other woman who I guess was called Aisha nodded with concern, which is probably better than any of the rubbish I had come up with all evening. If I knew all Benjamin needed was a simple nod, I wouldn’t have carried on with all these lame jokes.
“Look guys. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to just leave you guys out here on your own all night.”
Her partner interrupted, “If you guys like I could give you guys some tokens and you could play on the machines while we bowl?”
Ben and I immediately turned our heads to each other as if we’d just won a golden ticket to the chocolate factory.
“Yes!” we replied in unison
“Great idea, Aish. Although I will need to call your parents to let them know where you are. Or maybe after one game.”
We all walked inside the bowling alley and suddenly Benjamin’s mood changed a bit, as I noticed he was staring at his white shoes shining under the fluorescent lights and smiling like a bloody lunatic, but it was awesome to see!
Aisha gave us each a cup of Fanta and 10 tokens each. We played a couple of shoot ’em up games and then wore each other out playing air hockey. I was more of a strategy player as opposed to Benjamin, who whacked the puck as hard as he could without caring where the thing ended up, half the time on the other side of the room.
After we ran out of tokens, we both sat on top of the bowling-ball racks and watched Aisha and Miss Walker play. They cheered Benjamin up. I’m not sure if it was because he had the hots for Miss Walker still, or if he liked seeing them happy. I wondered if he was smiling because she reminded him of his mum.
He then turned to me and said something that made me feel really relieved.
“Oh and by the way, you’ve been wondering all night if you said or did the right thing. And you did.”
I felt like a load was taken off my shoulders.
“I did? What did I do?” I asked curiously.
“Something. It’s all anyone had to do. And you did it.”
I let out a smile and my eyes watered a bit. Even without the skirt I was still able to ball my eyes out like a girl, but was still able to control myself.
As we looked back at Miss Walker I thought I’d take his mind off his mum for a second. “You know, people around the school are saying things about me and Miss Walker. They think we’re trying to brainwash ’em all into worshipping gay people.”
“I know. Jeez you’d think Mr Symonds would be warning us all about this instead of climate change if it was anything dangerous.”
I was shocked. I’d had the same thought myself. And also I was impressed he had stopped calling it the green lighthouse effect.
Miss Walker and Aisha came running up to us arm in arm behaving almost like the girls in our own grade.
“Hope you had fun guys, but we should probably take you home!” Because th
ey gave us Fanta and air hockey tokens we did what they said.
Aisha then turned to me on the way out of the bowling alley.
“Oh, and I heard about what you’ve been doing at school. Respect, man!”
It was amazing that even during a time of grieving and a time of sadness for my friend Benjamin, people were still carrying on about this bloody skirt business. Dad was right; maybe I am changing the world, or at least getting a hell of a lot of attention from it!
Chapter 12
It felt weird but also kind of cool. Given Mum and Dad had always turned Rachel and I off church like it was steamed broccoli, sitting in pews listening to old men rattle on about what some men in robes did yonks ago didn’t really appeal to me all that much. But it wasn’t half bad; they had guitars and drums and other cool stuff. It wasn’t just a bunch of old fogeys drinking each other’s germs from one of those big silver cups full of wine. I mean the woman who arranged the flowers had a skirt that was so daggy that Scott McElroy’s red-bull slosh might actually be an improvement; but apart from that it all looked pretty alright to me.
Miss Walker and Aisha were in the pews. They were regulars here at the church and I think they’d agreed to help with the wake in the church hall, after which there was bound to be a morning tea. Miss Walker was wearing a black blazer on top of a black dress and Aisha came in a black suit. It’s funny; if I’d worn a black skirt suddenly I’d be the main event of the day, but Aisha is wearing a black suit and no one’s ready to hall her into Liam’s office.
“Hey mate,” I said to Benjamin as I surprised him from behind with a pat on the shoulder. He turned around with his eyes wide and lip shaking.
“How are you?” I said.
“I dunno. Nervous. I’ve had to put on a brave face for so many friends and family this morning that I’ve forgotten what a brave face is meant to look like. I think it means I’m just meant to not look so afraid.”
Benjamin was being pretty mature for a kid who told me that in Sunday school they spend most of their time drawing pictures of doodles in the good book.
A Uniform Approach Page 4
