Ishmael and the Return of the Dungongs

by Michael Gerard Bauer

  Scobie went through his usual facial stretches and contortions before he gave his considered reply. ‘He was a man, take him for all in all. We shall not look upon his like again.’

  Miss Tarango pressed her lips into a tight line that made her dimples appear like magic. Then she swept her right hand grandly towards the small figure in front of her. ‘What a piece of work is a Scobie. How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form, in moving, how express and admirable!’

  James Scobie pulled nervously at the knot of his tie, lightly fingered the perfect swell of his gelled-back hair, carefully adjusted his glasses and blushed. Miss Tarango just smiled. The rest of us tried to figure out what the hell they’d been talking about. Whatever it was, it seemed to have given Miss a new surge of energy and enthusiasm.

  ‘Yes, poetry and Shakespeare it is, boys, in all their raging glory,’ she said with flashing eyes. ‘Bring it on!’

  6.

  A CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE

  And bring it on Miss Tarango did. In the very next lesson the first of the posters went up. In big red print it said:

  … that which we are, we are;

  One equal temper of heroic hearts,

  Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

  To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

  ‘Ulysses’, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 1809–92

  But that was only the beginning. Over the next couple of weeks Miss began to plaster every available square centimetre of classroom space with posters and printouts of poetry and song lyrics. Prindabel became so rattled he spent whole lessons shooting nervous glances at them as if they were a flock of angry plovers about to attack. After two weeks our classroom walls had become so splattered with words it looked like a massive bomb had exploded in a library.

  It was on the Friday before Sally Nofke’s party that Miss Tarango unrolled a big poster written in swirling letters and gold leaf and taped it to the front of the teacher’s desk. It was a poem called ‘Desiderata’, which Miss told us meant ‘Things to be desired’. I thought of the party on Saturday night. I knew what I desired.

  I liked the poem. We even listened to it on CD. Mostly it gave a lot of advice like how you should ‘be yourself’ and ‘listen to others’ and that kind of stuff. But some parts made me think about things in my own life. Bits like ‘avoid loud and aggressive persons’ who the writer reckoned were ‘vexations to the spirit’ (which Razza translated as ‘pains in the arse’). This reminded me a lot of Barry Bagsley. It also said you shouldn’t compare yourself to others or you might become bitter, which made me think of my little sister Prue and how she’s a near-genius and how I’m … well … a sort of far-off-galaxy genius.

  What I really liked, though, was the bit near the end that reckoned I was ‘a child of the universe’ and that ‘no less than the trees and the stars, I had a right to be here’. I was kind of hoping Barry Bagsley and his mates would take note of that. Somehow I didn’t fancy my chances.

  But it was the next line that really stuck with me – the one that ended by saying, no doubt the universe was ‘unfolding as it should’. I began to wonder whether that could be true. And that started me thinking about Kelly Faulkner and how I thought I’d never get the chance to speak to her since she was just so perfect, but then just because I’d seen a primary kid being bullied and tried to help him and that kid ended up being Kelly Faulkner’s little brother, Kelly came to thank me and so I did get to speak to her and now, because of all that, Kelly had invited Razza and me to her friend’s party and I’d be seeing her again tomorrow night.

  The more I looked at it, the more convinced I became that all the time I’d been worried that my life had about as much direction as a dragster with a blow-out, my universe had actually been ‘unfolding as it should’.

  I still had that amazing thought in my head on Saturday night as Razza and I jumped into the back seat of his mum’s car and we set off for Sally Nofke’s party.

  Little did I know, but by the time the party was over, my universe wouldn’t be ‘unfolding’ any more. It would be falling apart at the seams.

  Track 2:

  Dead Toad Society blues

  I’m lyin’ on the road, I got no place to go

  I’m beaten and I’m broken and bust

  I’m battered to the ground, splattered all around

  Cannot move a muscle, but must

  Everything feels broken-man you must be jokin’

  To say you’d rather burn out than rust

  Chorus

  I got the Dead Toad Society, Dead Toad Society,

  Dead Toad Society blues!

  I got the Dead Toad Society, the deadliest variety of,

  The Dead Toad Society blues!

  From The Dugongs: Returned & Remastered

  Music & lyrics: W Mangan and R. Leseur

  7.

  SO FULLY EMPTY

  We were dropped off at Sally’s house just after seven.

  ‘Time to par-taaaay!’ Razza said, jabbing the doorbell and breaking into a jerky robotic dance. I was about to say something about the ‘old laid-back approach’ when the door clicked open and a girl appeared.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, smiling and pushing her long dark hair back behind her ears. ‘I’m Sally. You must be Ishmael and Orazio?’

  Her voice was warm and kind of husky, like it was frayed around the edges. For some reason it made me think of coffee, which I thought was strange because I don’t like coffee. I was pretty sure that I was going to like Sally Nofke though – and I was certain I wasn’t the only one with that thought.

  ‘Hi. He’s Ishmael. I’m Orazio, but most people call me Razza.’

  ‘Well, glad you guys could make it. Come on in.’

  We moved inside and Razza handed over a present.

  ‘Happy birthday-from both of us.’

  ‘Oh, you really didn’t have to bring anything – but that’s lovely. Thank you.’

  ‘Hope you like chocolates,’ Razza said.

  ‘With a passion,’ Sally said, and her dark eyes sparkled.

  ‘Great. We were thinking of a CD but didn’t know what you were into. I reckoned the new one by Tranz Phat would have been wicked.’

  ‘Wow, they rock. I love their stuff.’

  ‘Yeah? Cool! Same here,’ Razza said.

  ‘I really like “Ninja love”.’

  ‘Same here!’ Razza said again. ‘What an awesome drum beat, eh. Man, I knew we shoulda got you that CD.’

  Razza and Sally grinned at each other briefly before Sally’s eyes dropped quickly to the chocolates. ‘But no, these are great, too. I’ll just have to hide them from my little brother and sister, otherwise they’ll disappear for sure.’

  ‘Hey, you guys made it.’

  I turned towards the voice. It was Kelly Faulkner. Later I would remember other things about her, like how her yellow T-shirt just reached to the top of her jeans and how her belt buckle locked together in the form of butterfly wings, and I would even notice the embroidery around her back pockets and her multi-coloured sandshoes, but at that moment all I could see were pale ice-blue eyes, the soft curve of a smile and a face that seemed to shine.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, quickly finding myself at the outer reaches of my conversational skills, ‘… Ah … you remember Razza.’

  ‘Of course,’ Kelly said. ‘How could I forget the famous Razzman?’ Then she spoke behind her hand to Sally. ‘I really shouldn’t be telling you this, Sal, but the goss on the street is that this guy is a bit of a superhero in disguise.’

  ‘Really?’ Sally said, looking Razz up and down and pretending to be impressed.

  ‘Yep, I heard it right from the sidekick’s mouth,’ Kelly said, nodding towards me.

  ‘Are you really a superhero?’ Sally asked with a smile.

  ‘Please, please,’ Razza said, holding up his hands and shaking his head, ‘everyone just says that … because it’s true.’

  Both girls rolled their eyes and laughed. Unfortun
ately it was cut short by the chiming of a doorbell.

  ‘That’d have to be Jess – everyone else is here.’

  Sally opened the door and was quickly swamped by squeals of ‘Happy Birthday!’ and smothered in an embrace. Then the new arrival grabbed Sally’s arm, dragged her across the room towards us and bounced in beside Kelly. Razza seemed transfixed by the fact that not all of her stopped bouncing at the same time.

  ‘Hey, Kel. You look so great.’

  ‘Thanks – you too. New outfit?’ The new girl wore a short frilly white skirt that hugged her hips like it was going in for a low tackle and a plunging top that seemed to be fighting a desperate rearguard action to keep everything in.

  ‘Yeah, got it from Catwalk. It was like so on sale.’

  ‘Great. Anyway … Jess, this is Ishmael … and this is Razza.’

  It wasn’t hard to read Razza’s mind as we exchanged hellos and he ran his eyes over Jess. Any second I expected the word ‘Hot!’ to appear in big sizzling letters on his forehead.

  ‘Hey, Jess, check out the scrummy chockies the guys gave me.’

  ‘Cool! Be no good for me though,’ Jess said, patting a flat, tanned section of bare midriff. ‘I have to watch my figure.’

  ‘Well, if you ever want a break,’ Razza said, ‘I’d be happy to watch it for you.’

  Jess opened her mouth then squealed with delight, ‘That-is – so – funny! I think I’d better watch you’, she said, placing her hand on Razza’s arm.

  The two other girls exchanged a quick look and Kelly jumped in with, ‘Well, Sal’s got no worries about putting on weight, not with all the tennis and soccer she does.’

  Razza’s face lit up. ‘You play soccer?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘A bit! She’s only captain of the school team as well as her local club team and she’s reserve for the State side.’

  Razza looked impressed. ‘Cool!’ he said.

  Sally blushed a little. ‘Well, my dad grew up in England. He’s a mad keen Liverpool supporter-me too, actually, especially with Harry Kewell in the team.’

  ‘Yeah … they’re not bad … for an English team,’ Razz said knowingly, ‘but if you want a real team, you have to go to Italy – AC Milan, mate, now that’s a real football club.’

  ‘AC Milan? AC Milan? Now let me think,’ Sally said, smirking and rubbing her chin, ‘would that be the same AC Milan that was thrashed in the final of the 2005 UEFA Champions League by … Ummmmm, let me see … Who was it now? It’s on the tip of my tongue … Oh, I remember … That’s right … Liverpool.’

  ‘Thrashed? What d’ya mean, thrashed? It was a three-all draw, for crying out loud! You just won because of a stupid penalty shoot-out and some freaky saves. Everyone knows we were robbed!’

  ‘Yes … Of course you were,’ Sally crooned before swaying from side to side and chanting softly, ‘Liiiiiiv-er-pool! Liiiiiiv-er-pool!’

  Razza covered his ears. ‘No, don’t remind me. The nightmare returns! Aaaaaarrrrrhhhh!’

  Sally patted Razza on the shoulder. ‘There, there, there. It’s all right. Don’t cry. There’s always next year-if you make it.’

  We were all having a laugh at Razza’s expense when Jess broke in. ‘Hey Sal, I almost forgot to give you your present. Here you go. Happy birthday!’ she said, hugging Sally again and slipping in between her and Razza. ‘Hope you haven’t got it already. It’s a Tiffany Jackson CD.’

  ‘Tiffany Jackson?’

  Jess turned towards Razz. ‘Yeah, you like her?’

  Razza grimaced a little. ‘Well … “like” is a very strong word.’

  ‘I think she’s way cool-she’s like fully hot.’

  ‘Yeah, she’s hot … but …’

  ‘Hey Jess, thanks a lot. We’ll put it on later. It’ll be great to dance to.’

  ‘Cool! It’s got all her greatest hits on it.’

  Beside me Razza mumbled something about it being a ‘blank CD’ then, which luckily Jess didn’t catch. Sally, on the other hand, seemed to be biting her top lip and trying not to look at Kelly.

  ‘Here you all are.’ A boy had just come in from the next room and joined the circle, moving in beside Kelly. He looked like an apprentice Brad Pitt.

  ‘Hi, I’m Brad,’ he said, thrusting his hand out towards me. Why wasn’t I surprised? Razza and I both introduced ourselves and shook hands. ‘Hey, I hear you guys go to St Daniel’s. Your Firsts really gave it to us last year in the rugby-only game we lost all season.’

  ‘So you’re from Churchill Grammar, then,’ Razz said. ‘Well, we’ll talk to you now, but after the party we’ll have to kill you. Nothing personal – it’s school policy.’

  Brad laughed and showed his perfect teeth. ‘Fair enough,’ he said.

  ‘Just wait till next year when you’re in the Firsts, Brad,’ Jess said. ‘They’ll be totally unbeatable.’

  ‘If I make the team, you mean – my parents reckon I have to do well in all my subjects this year or I can forget about even trying out.’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ Sally said.

  ‘Maybe, but we’re not all geniuses like you, Sal. Some of us get other letters on our reports besides A’s.’

  ‘Genius?’ Sally said with an embarrassed laugh. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘No? Then I guess that Outstanding Achievement certificate you got in the National Maths Competition was just a fluke.’

  ‘He’s right, Sal. You’re a real brain. You’re so going to be dux of the school in Year Twelve.’

  Sally’s cheeks and neck turned blotchy red. ‘Can we talk about something else?’ she said, dropping her head and letting her hair fall around her face.

  ‘Hey, stop embarrassing her,’ Kelly said, shooting a cold look at Brad. ‘Sally works hard and deserves everything she gets.’

  ‘Sorry, Sal,’ Brad said. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m just jealous, that’s all. Anyway, to change the subject, what I actually came out here to tell you all in the first place was that food’s being served out on the deck and if you’re not careful you’ll miss out.’

  ‘Food? Boy, I could do with some of that,’ Jess said, shaking her head. ‘Before I left home I was feeling like … hungry … but … not, you know what I mean? Anyway, Mum’s like, “You have to eat something”, and I’m like, “No, I so don’t”, and she’s like, “You’re wasting away”, and I’m like, “Whatever”, and then she goes like fully psycho and I’m like, “Excuse me?”. Then in the car coming over it was sooo embarrassing ’cause Mum’s so like totally giving me the silent treatment and I’m like, “Well if she’s not talking, I’m not talking”, but then my tummy got an attack of the rumbles and it’s going like, “Grrrrrrrrrr”, so loudly ’cause, yeah … It’s so like … you know … so fully … so fully empty!’

  Jess just stood there holding her stomach and smiling at everyone with her mouth wide open until Razza said, ‘So … let’s like … eat!’

  As I moved off with the others I was pretty excited about the night ahead – or at least I was, until in front of me I saw Brad slip his hand into Kelly’s and smile down at her. I held my breath. I was still holding it when Kelly smiled back and entwined her fingers with his.

  Jess was absolutely right. Sometimes you can just feel like … you know … so fully empty.

  8.

  THE DUNG BEETLE IN THE ECOSYSTEM OF LOVE

  ‘Hey, what’s up with you, man?’

  It was an hour or so later. We’d been introduced around, met Sally’s family, had some food out on the back deck and spent time in the rumpus room with Sally and her friends listening to music and dancing. Now while the others were setting up a karaoke machine inside, I was getting some fresh air beside the pool. I looked up as Razza joined me.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, mate,’ Razza said, ‘I gotta tell you, you’re not exactly being the life of the party, you know.’

  I suppose he had a point. I was trying to join in and have fun, although as a dancer I’d make
an excellent store dummy and I had a strong feeling that the title of King of Karaoke wouldn’t be coming my way any time soon. It’s just that whenever I saw Kelly with Brad I felt like I was free falling with my heart wedged somewhere in my throat.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You reckon? Well, what are you moping around out here for, man? I’m telling you, if you want to win on to Kelly tonight you’re gonna have to lift your game.’

  ‘Win on to Kelly? You’re kidding, aren’t you? Didn’t you meet Brad – Teen Magazine’s Super Spunk of the Year?’

  ‘Ah, so that’s it. A little competition and you’re chucking in the towel.’

  ‘Yep, that’s the plan.’

  ‘You’re mad. Listen, I’ve seen this sort of thing heaps of times. It’s always the same. It goes like this. There’s this dorky funny sort of dude – that’s you – and he meets this really cute chick-that’s Kelly-so naturally he gets the terminal hots for her, only then he finds out she’s already got this boofhead of a boyfriend – that’s Brad. Anyway, a lot of wacky things happen but eventually the really cute chick realises her boyfriend is a dirt bag and that the dorky dude is a nice guy and she falls for him and they end up getting hot and heavy together. End of story.’

  ‘Razz, you’ve only seen that heaps of times because it’s the plot of every American teen movie ever made.’

  ‘Maybe, but Hollywood wouldn’t lie, would they?’

  ‘Well anyway, I think there might be a tiny flaw in your theory. Have you noticed that Brad doesn’t happen to be a “boofhead” or a “dirt bag”? Have you noticed that he’s actually a nice guy and pretty smart as well? Have you noticed how everyone likes him? Geez, even I like him, and I hate the guy.’

  ‘They’re just details,’ Razz said, waving me away. ‘Look, it’s like my soccer coach says-what you gotta do is find where you have the “competitive edge” over your opposition and then exploit that to your advantage.’