The room was almost full and the lesson had already started. Instead of desks, each student sat in a chair with a writing surface fixed to the armrest. Eva was standing near the back, reading from a book. Sam waved through the window but she didn’t look up. All of a sudden the door flew open and he was confronted by a woman with hair tied back so tightly that it stretched the skin around her eyes, which only added to her air of annoyance.
‘Can I help?’ she demanded.
‘Um, is this US History?’ Sam said. ‘I’m new.’
She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him. ‘So I can see, young man. I am Miss Forbes, and this is indeed US History. In addition to being new, you are also late. Please do not make a habit of it.’
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I won’t.’
‘Do you have a name?’
Sam nodded.
‘Is it a secret, or are you going to share it with us?’
‘Sam Rayner.’
She clasped her hands in mock euphoria. ‘Splendid! Now that introductions are out the way, would you mind taking a seat so we can resume class?’
Sam looked at Eva. She smiled back, but the places around her were occupied.
‘Where should I sit?’ he asked Miss Forbes.
‘Goodness, child! Must you have everything spelled out for you? How about up front next to Brandon? You can share his book until I find you a copy of your own. Please continue, Eva.’
Sam slid into the chair that Miss Forbes had indicated, next to a bulky boy who looked about twenty-five years old, and dropped his bag on the floor.
‘Hi,’ he said.
Brandon, the man-boy, glanced briefly in his direction and grunted.
Eva began to read again, her voice clear and steady. ‘Theories as to the cause of the Great Depression can be broadly divided into two main categories. Under demand-driven theories…’
Brandon ran his finger along the print as Eva spoke, his face lined with concentration. Sam shuffled his chair closer to see the book. The heading at the top of the page read, ‘KENNEDY LAUNCHES RACE TO THE MOON.’
Although Sam’s subject knowledge was poor, he was pretty certain the Great Depression had happened several decades before the moon landings. Lowering his voice, he asked, ‘Have you got the right page?’
‘Huh?’
‘Look, you’re on the wrong page. Can’t you read?’
Brandon scowled, his cheeks turning a volcanic shade of red. ‘What you saying, new boy?’
‘Sorry, didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just—’
‘Who’s talking?’ Miss Forbes snapped. She fixed her gaze on Sam and Brandon. ‘I don’t know how things worked in you last educational establishment, Sam, but in my class you raise your hand if you wish to speak. Brandon, I would have hoped you’d know better by now. Do you enjoy my company so much that you wish to spend yet another afternoon in detention?’
‘No Miss Forbes,’ he said.
‘Perhaps you’d like to read instead?’
Brandon shook his head furiously.
‘I’ll do it,’ Sam said.
‘A volunteer, how marvellous! Looks like you’re off the hook this time, Brandon.’
Sam took Brandon’s book and stood up. ‘Miss, which page are we on?’
‘If you were paying attention instead of talking, you might already know. Page eighty-nine, third paragraph, beginning, “The Monetarist Theory.”’
He found the page, cleared his throat and began. ‘The Monetarist Theory, as laid out by Friedman and Schwartz, was caused by the fall of money supply…’
He had almost reached the end of the chapter when the bell rang, cutting him off mid-sentence.
‘Hold on!’ Miss Forbes said, raising her voice to be heard over the scraping of chair legs. ‘I know it’s only the first day back, but it’s time to blow out the cobwebs. I expect essay proposals on my desk by Friday next week. Remember, you’re Juniors now. This is a big year!’
There was a collective groan and then everyone made for the bottleneck of the door at the same time. After the main squash had passed, Sam filed out and saw Eva standing at a locker a bit further down the corridor.
She glanced up as he approached and said, ‘Hi, looks like we’re in some of the same classes.’
As Sam opened his mouth to reply, he suddenly tripped, stumbled to his knees and remained like that for a moment, as if praying, before there was a shove in his back that tipped him face-first onto the floor.
He rolled over to see Brandon filling his view.
8
As Sam attempted to rise, Brandon lowered a boot onto his chest and said, ‘Stay down if you know what’s good for you, new boy.’
A chorus of snickers grew nearby as Sam dropped his shoulders back to the floor. Brandon remained standing over him for a few seconds more, then grinned, lifted his foot and walked away, laughing his head off. Sam waited until he had rounded the corner before clambering to his feet. There was a dirty smudge on the front of his T-shirt, the treads of Brandon’s boot clearly visible.
He glanced up, blushing. Several passers-by were still staring, but they quickly looked away and began busying themselves, embarrassed to have been caught up in the spectacle.
Eva stepped forward after the last onlooker had moved off. ‘Are you hurt?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think so,’ Sam said, rubbing the side of his head. ‘What’s that guy’s problem?’
‘Don’t pay Brandon any notice. He’s just bitter because he was kept back a year…oh, look at your things!’
Sam glanced down to see the contents of his unzipped backpack – brand new pens, pencils, notebook and calculator – strewn across the floor.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, and stooped to pick them up.
‘Let me help,’ Eva said and crouched beside him. She reached for a pen at the same moment as Sam went for it and accidentally laid her hand on top of his. Sam felt something pass between them like an electric shock, only pleasant. He opened his mouth without really knowing what to say, when all of a sudden Eva pulled her hand back and drew herself up.
Sam quickly scooped the last few items into his bag and stood as well. ‘Sorry. Thanks. I…er…it’s…my…’
Eva tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. ‘So, how’re you finding Montclair? Aside from the particular brand of brain-dead bully we have to offer, that is.’
He smiled back, relieved to have the direction of the conversation taken out of his hands. ‘It’s good,’ he said. ‘In fact, no, it’s not. It’s been pretty much the most boring week of my life, up until today. Your local variety of bully at least adds some excitement.’
‘It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. I could show you around some time, if you like.’
‘Really?’ Sam asked in a voice that came out embarrassingly high-pitched. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘When?’
‘How about Saturday morning?’ she said. ‘I’ll come by your house.’
9
‘Sounds like there could be romance on the cards,’ Sam’s mum said, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He knocked the hand away. ‘Seriously, Mum, stop it.’
‘I’m only asking. Can’t a mother show a little interest in her son’s love life?’
‘I don’t have a love life and, even if I did, the answer would be no. Categorically, unconditionally, definitely no.’
She did her best to look offended. ‘Well, I think it’s nice the two of you are spending time together. I’ve been so worried about you moping about the house on your own. It would do you good to get out for a bit and meet some people your own age.’
‘I have plenty of friends my own age,’ Sam said, ‘and, as far as I remember, it wasn’t my idea to move thousands of miles away from them all.’
This time his mum looked genuinely upset.
‘Sorry, you’re right,’ he said before she could start lecturing him about what a fantastic opportunity the move was. ‘I’ll make new frie
nds in time. Eva’s a nice girl, it’s just―’
‘She’s very pretty, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose, if you like that sort of thing.’
‘And since when do you not like pretty girls?’
‘I’m serious, leave it out. I wish I hadn’t told you anything now.’
It wasn’t just that he was trying to be evasive; if Sam had believed for a moment that there was anything more to Eva offering to show him around than kindness or pity then those hopes had collapsed faster than a paper bag in rainstorm. All week at school he’d eaten lunch at a table by himself. Eva always ate at the same table and always sat next to the same boy. He was tall, with big muscles and precision-styled hair that suggested he spent a long time in front of the mirror each morning. They were obviously a couple, and Sam had no intention of getting involved in anything complicated.
The doorbell rang and his mum went to get it. Eva was dressed casually and wearing less make-up than she usually did, but somehow managed to look even better without appearing to have made any effort. For the hundredth time already that morning, Sam decided that this was a bad idea.
‘Did Doug get off all right?’ his mum asked Eva.
‘Oh yes, he rang this morning to say his flight got in fine.’ She turned to Sam. ‘You ready?’
‘What’s the plan?’ he asked.
‘I thought I’d give you the basic package: historical points of interest, etcetera. It’ll cost extra if you want the extended tour.’ She smiled at his mum. ‘Nice talking to you, Mrs Rayner.’
‘You too, Eva. And please, call me Rebecca.’
They stepped from the house into a bright, late-summer’s morning. Eva pressed a button on her keys and the lights on a white convertible parked by the road flashed twice. None of Sam’s friends back home could drive, although Lewis insisted he knew how and that the test would be a mere formality once he was old enough. Chrissie had taken a few lessons after turning seventeen, but had quickly lost interest, which was probably a good thing for road safety statistics.
As Sam climbed in the seatbelt automatically closed around him, pinning him to the seat. Eva climbed in beside him.
‘Is this your car?’ he asked.
‘Technically, no.’ She leaned over to open the glove compartment, her hand almost brushing his knee, and took out a pair of glasses which she unfolded and put on. She must have noticed him staring. ‘Hey, cut it out!’
‘They suit you,’ he said.
‘Very funny. They make me look like a dork, but contacts make my eyes itch and I need them to drive.’
‘No really, I mean it.’
She shot him a sideways glance and started the engine. ‘You’re a terrible liar, Sam. And no, the car’s not mine. Colette’s name is on all the paperwork, but she rarely drives it. As long as I finish certain chores, like picking up my sister from ballet class in a couple of hours, then I’m pretty much free to use it whenever I want.’
She pulled away from the house, turned left at the end of the road and, after a few more twists and turns, joined the freeway. There was a light breeze and barely a cloud in the sky. As they drove, the wind whipped and pulled at Eva’s hair, causing it to flutter about her head.
‘Do you always call your parents by their first names?’ Sam asked.
‘Always have. It was Colette’s idea at first. When I was a kid she used to say “mom” made her sound old, and now it just sounds wrong to call her that, even though Nicole does. Besides, it creates the impression of a structure that doesn’t really exist in our family. We each do our own thing. Nicole has her activities, Doug works all the time and Colette…well, she drinks and gets her nails done.’
‘And what about you?’
Eva flicked hair from her face. ‘As long as my grades are good, whatever I please.’
Sam’s parents might have got on his nerves from time to time, his mum with her constant nagging and fussing, and his dad with his good-natured bumbling, but Sam always knew where he stood. They were his parents, never friends or equals.
Before long Sam and Eva had reached the edge of town. The buildings thinned and, shortly after, the road climbed into the hills to the west. The trees that lined Sam’s road were more numerous here, and the car darted in and out of their shadows as it sped along. Eventually Eva turned onto a dusty track that climbed even more steeply. She slowed and then came to a stop in a clearing overlooked by a ridge.
‘Where are we?’ Sam asked.
‘Only my most favourite place ever,’ she said and got out of the car. ‘Follow me. You need to climb for a bit to see it properly.’
She ducked behind a bush and started up a narrow path. Sam trailed after, branches snagging at his trouser legs. The ground consisted mostly of loose rock and dry earth, and every step sent a mini-landslide cascading down the path. He was afraid of falling and lost sight of Eva more than once, only to find her waiting a little further up ahead. At last he emerged onto a ledge some thirty metres above where they’d left the car. He bent over to catch his breath, his hands on his knees.
The whole town was spread out before them like a model. In the distance he could make out the grounds of the school and, on the far edge of town, the ugly bulk of the shopping mall he’d visited with his dad.
‘Over there,’ Eva said and pointed to the hazy horizon.
He stared in the direction of her finger. Far away, sparkling in the sunlight, gaped the jagged teeth of New York’s skyline.
‘You can only see it on a clear day like today,’ she explained.
‘What’s it like there?’
‘Big, polluted, noisy. And people are generally unfriendly.’
‘Sounds a bit like London,’ he said.
Eva inspected the grass behind her and, once satisfied it was dry, sat down, tucking her knees under her chin and folding her arms around her legs. ‘Big cities are the same everywhere, I guess. Do you miss it, your home?’
Sam picked a piece of dry grass and, twirling it between his fingertips, sat beside her. ‘There’s people I miss. My friend Lewis, for example. It feels weird not having him here if I need someone to talk to, or even just if I’m bored. And there’s my grandparents. And my sister too, although I never thought I’d actually miss her. I think what I’m saying is that it’s the people I miss more than the place itself. People are what make a place special, I think.’
Eva gazed at him with her head tilted to the side as she considered this, and it took all of Sam’s willpower to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her. ‘I can see what you mean,’ she said eventually, ‘but places can be special in their own right too, like where we are now. I used to come here when I was just a kid. Doug was in the army before he worked at the bank and he used to bring me camping on weekends when Nicole was still a baby. I think he was worried I’d get jealous about not being the centre of attention or something like that, but back then, when he didn’t work so much, we’d go trekking in the hills all day, just the two of us. We stopped on this ledge for a picnic once. I’m not sure if it was the quiet or being able to see the whole town from up here, but this place always felt special to me.’
‘Isn’t that because you first came here with Doug and it reminds you of someone special?’
‘Could be a bit, but Doug hasn’t taken me camping in years. This place is all mine now. That’s what makes it special, not the memory of being here with someone else. This is where I come whenever I need space to clear my head and think.’
‘Is that often?’
‘You’d be surprised,’ she said, and dismissed the topic with a laugh.
After that they sat in silence for a long while. The only sounds were the rustle of the breeze caressing the long grass and the faint hum of traffic far below. It felt to Sam as though they didn’t need to say anything at all, and he understood what Eva meant; this place was special in its own right, as if it had the power to calm the mind. He lay back in the grass and closed his eyes, aware of nothing but the warmth of the sun a
nd the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
When he opened his eyes again he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Eva was lying on her stomach watching him, her legs bent at the knee and her feet dangling in the air. She grinned. ‘You were asleep.’
‘No I wasn’t,’ Sam said.
‘Yes, you were. You make noises like a hibernating bear.’ She stood and brushed grass off her clothes. ‘I need to collect Nicole soon, we better go.’
Descending the path was even trickier than coming up. They went slowly, Eva in front and Sam struggling with the loose footing behind. At one point he slipped and needed to grab an overhanging branch to stop from crashing down on top of her. After that she took his hand and helped him the rest of the way. Her skin was as cool and smooth as glass, and at the bottom he had to force himself to let go.
They climbed back in the car and followed the track to the road, where Eva turned towards town again. She drove around the outskirts to the mall and parked several hundred metres from its entrance, even though there were plenty of spaces. They entered through a wide revolving door, emerging into bright artificial light and easy listening music. It was several degrees cooler under the industrial-sized air-conditioning and Sam shivered, the hairs on his arms standing on end. The main atrium was buzzing with weekend shoppers, mostly families with small children and the occasional group of teenagers with nothing better to do.
Sam and Eva rode a lift to the upper level. The doors opened in front of a pharmacy next to a unit with a sign that read, Rosemary Lipscomb’s School of Dance. Through the glass front Sam could see a row of young girls holding a bar attached to a mirrored wall as they pirouetted and stretched. They were all between about six to ten years old, he reckoned, and wore matching pink leotards and fluffy tutus.
Eva checked her wristwatch. ‘We’re early still. Her class doesn’t finish for another twenty minutes.’
‘Where’s Nicole?’ Sam asked, peering through the window.
The Pages of Time Page 3
