Bumface

by Morris Gleitzman

  ‘That’s right,’ said Angus warily. He wondered what the youngest age was that journalists could start their careers and whether they were allowed to disguise themselves as schoolgirls.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind me elbowing in,’ said Rindi. ‘I’ve had a great time.’

  ‘No,’ said Angus. ‘Well, um, we should be going now. My mum’ll be finished at the clinic any minute.’

  ‘No she won’t,’ said Leo. ‘She’s at the studio.’

  Angus thought about strangling Leo. It was hard to get a good grip, though, when your hands were clammy with embarrassment.

  Rindi was grinning at him again. Her face was so friendly that Angus was tempted to grin back, but he didn’t, just in case.

  To give himself something else to do, he checked Imogen’s nappy. Except it wasn’t her nappy, it was some sort of white cloth wrapped round her.

  ‘Imogen’s nappy burst when she came off the slide,’ said Rindi, ‘so I put my sports T-shirt on her instead.’

  Angus stared at Rindi in surprise. ‘Thanks,’ he said. That didn’t seem like something a journalist would do. Hand over a T-shirt for a toddler to poo on. Mum reckoned journalists didn’t even like it if you spilt wine on their slacks.

  ‘Want a go on the pirate rope?’ asked Rindi.

  Angus didn’t know what to say.

  ‘It’s great,’ yelled Leo. ‘Have a go.’

  Rindi put the rope into Angus’s hand. ‘You’re not chicken, are you?’ she grinned.

  ‘No,’ said Angus indignantly. ‘I do this heaps.’

  As he climbed up to the platform he wished he’d told Rindi the truth. That he only did it heaps in his imagination. That he hadn’t done it in real life for five and a half years. Not since Leo was born.

  Angus stood on the edge of the platform, shaking with fear.

  Pull yourself together, he told himself. If you’ve got the guts to yell at Russell Hinch, you’ve got the guts to swing on this dumb rope.

  Angus gripped the rope tighter, closed his eyes and jumped.

  As he swung through the air, scalp tingling in the breeze, he heard himself yelling.

  It wasn’t a yell of fear.

  It was a joyful pirate yell.

  He let go of the rope and sprawled in the dust near Rindi and the others.

  ‘Good one,’ yelled Leo.

  ‘Gussy Bumface,’ shrieked Imogen.

  ‘Bumface is a great name for a pirate,’ laughed Rindi.

  As he blinked the dust out of his eyes, Angus found he was hardly embarrassed at all. ‘Imogen came up with it,’ he said.

  ‘Hey,’ shouted Leo excitedly. ‘Let’s go to Bumface’s secret island.’

  ‘All right,’ said Rindi.

  ‘All right,’ said Angus.

  They played for ages.

  Angus kept an anxious eye on his watch, but each time he decided they had to go, Rindi and the little kids persuaded him to do one more pirate raid.

  He didn’t need much persuading.

  As he swung happily on the rope, he remembered that this was what life used to be like, a long time ago. For a fleeting second he wondered what had gone wrong.

  Then, as he hit the ground, he remembered.

  His insides sank.

  ‘What’s up?’ said Rindi. ‘Pirate injury?’

  Angus shook his head. ‘It’s OK,’ he said.

  ‘Leo told me about your mum,’ said Rindi gently. ‘I reckon she’s cool. I’ve seen her on telly heaps. But I can understand why you don’t want her to have any more kids. My cousin in India has to look after eight little brothers and sisters and he got his first grey hair when he was only fifteen.’

  Angus stared at her in shock. She knew about Mum. But something in her concerned expression made him start to relax.

  ‘Bad luck about the school play,’ said Rindi. ‘Leo told me about that as well.’

  ‘Leo,’ yelled Angus, exasperated. ‘Is there anything you didn’t tell her?’

  ‘I didn’t tell her about Geoffrey,’ said Leo. He turned to Rindi. ‘Geoffrey had babies.’

  Angus tried to stay cross, but Rindi was grinning so widely that Angus couldn’t stop himself grinning too.

  Then he remembered something and was suddenly serious again.

  ‘Rindi,’ he said urgently. ‘About my mum. It’s a secret. A total secret. Do you understand?’

  Rindi was staring at the ground. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m good at secrets.’

  Angus prayed she was. He looked at her serious expression and suddenly he felt that she was the first person in a long time he could trust.

  This is dopey, he thought happily. I’ve known her about two hours.

  Rindi’s face brightened.

  ‘Did you get the information you wanted from the clinic?’ she asked.

  Angus’s insides sank. With everything that had happened, he’d forgotten what a disaster the clinic had been.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Rindi. ‘I got heaps.’

  The train home was really full. Angus had hoped that Leo and Imogen’s new ice-creams would keep the crowds back a bit, but no luck. People were pressing into them from all sides.

  While Leo and Imogen slurped and dripped, he and Rindi studied the leaflets she’d got from the clinic.

  ‘There’s heaps of good stuff here,’ said Rindi excitedly. ‘If you used all this stuff you wouldn’t get pregnant in a million years.’

  Angus glanced anxiously at the other passengers. He was relieved to see they were all looking out the window or at the ceiling or at the floor. The last thing he needed was some nosy passenger thinking the leaflets were stolen and kicking up a fuss.

  ‘What I’m looking for,’ said Rindi, thumbing through the leaflets, ‘is something cheap and foolproof where you don’t have to rely on chemicals or blokes.’

  Angus thought about Dad and Numbers Two to Four and nodded understandingly. He was about to ask Rindi how many brothers and sisters she had and whether her mum was forgetful too, when Leo gave a howl. His ice-cream was on the floor in two pieces.

  ‘You poor thing,’ said Rindi. ‘I reckon they don’t make ice-creams strong enough for little kids.’ She dug into her school bag and pulled out a pencil case. ‘Here,’ she said, handing Leo some coloured pencils and a leaflet. ‘Would you like to colour in a condom?’

  Leo’s eyes shone and he set to work.

  Angus went back to reading and soon his eyes were shining too. There it was, on the leaflet in his hand, exactly the thing he’d been hoping to find. He showed Rindi.

  ‘It’s called an intra-uterine device,’ he said. ‘It’s a little plastic and metal thing and once it’s fitted inside a woman she can forget about it for ages, which my mum would almost certainly do, and she still won’t get pregnant.’

  Rindi studied the leaflet. Angus glanced at the other passengers. They were still minding their own business.

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Rindi, studying the drawing of the intra-uterine device. ‘Not bad, but I like the look of this better.’ She pointed to a drawing on her leaflet.

  Angus looked. It was called a diaphragm. He didn’t have a clue how to say it.

  ‘There’s a pronunciation guide,’ said Rindi. ‘Die-a-fram.’

  ‘Die-a-fram,’ said Leo.

  ‘Gussy-fram,’ yelled Imogen.

  ‘It goes inside too,’ said Rindi, ‘but it’s bendy rubber so it can be taken out and washed and used over and over.’

  ‘But,’ said Angus, studying the leaflet, ‘don’t mothers have to remember to put it in each time before they do sex?’

  Rindi nodded. Angus looked at her, concerned.

  ‘Are you sure your mum’s got that good a memory?’ he said.

  Rindi looked at him for a long time. Finally she spoke.

  ‘It’s not for my mum,’ she said. ‘It’s for me.’

  Angus stared. After a while he realised he wasn’t the only one. The people standing around them had completely lost interest in the window
and the ceiling and the floor and were all gaping at Rindi.

  ‘I won’t be using it yet,’ said Rindi. ‘I just want to be prepared for the future.’

  Angus digested this. Boy, he thought, I wish Mum was that good at planning ahead.

  He gave the people staring a stare back. They all looked away. If I was braver, thought Angus, I’d tell them to give her a round of applause.

  Leo finished colouring the condom at almost the same moment Imogen finished eating her ice-cream. Rindi spent the time until her station telling them both how clever they were.

  Her stop was two before Angus’s.

  When it was time to say goodbye, Angus touched her on the arm.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  He felt himself blushing.

  Rindi grinned. ‘Any time, Bumface,’ she said.

  ‘If you do ever have kids,’ said Angus, ‘you’ll make a really great parent.’

  At first, Angus didn’t understand why Rindi’s face was clouding over. It was only after she’d muttered ‘Yeah, that’s what everyone reckons’, and picked up her school bag and started to move away that he realised he must have said something wrong.

  ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …’

  She jumped off the train and started to run.

  ‘Rindi,’ yelled Angus. ‘What’s wrong?’

  He moved towards the door, but the train was already pulling out of the station.

  He caught a last glimpse of Rindi’s face, tense and unhappy.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ said Angus again, to himself this time.

  ‘She’s upset,’ said Leo.

  Angus sighed, puzzled and concerned.

  Sometimes it wasn’t only little kids who didn’t understand.

  12

  Angus tipped Leo and Imogen’s breakfast cereal into their bowls. Something small and plastic tumbled out of the box.

  ‘Me,’ screamed Imogen.

  ‘I want it,’ yelled Leo.

  ‘It’s for Mummy,’ said Angus, putting the plastic soldier on the shelf next to her Logie.

  In his head he wrote a letter to the cereal manufacturers.

  ‘Dear Sir/Madam,

  Have you ever thought of putting contraceptives in cereal boxes? I reckon contraceptives would be even more popular than plastic soldiers. I’d buy any brand of cereal with an intra-uterine device in it.’

  Angus yawned.

  He’d been awake half the night trying to think where he could get one. That and worrying about Rindi.

  Chemists didn’t sell them, he knew that. If he went back to the Family Planning Clinic he’d be arrested and he was pretty sure the police wouldn’t have any.

  Angus opened the fridge door to get the milk and a light went on in his head at exactly the same moment as in the fridge.

  A factory. There must be an intra-uterine device factory somewhere. With delivery trucks. Russell Hinch’s uncle was a truck driver and Russell reckoned his uncle’s place was full of stuff that had fallen off the back of trucks.

  It would be a huge risk, asking Russell Hinch if his uncle knew any intra-uterine device truck drivers. Russell could easily go ballistic and tell the whole school.

  It’s a risk I’ve got to take, thought Angus as he gave Leo and Imogen their cereal and Imogen tipped hers into her orange juice.

  Angus went to the laundry to check Rindi’s T-shirt. It had been soaking in stain-remover all night, but when he lifted it out of the bucket he saw it still needed another day or so.

  No rush, he thought sadly. I’ll probably never see her again.

  Angus started folding some washing and Mum came in, bleary-eyed, pulling her dressing gown on.

  ‘Hello darling,’ she yawned. ‘I didn’t wake you when I got in last night cause it was a bit late. Here, I got you all a prezzie.’

  Angus knew what it would be even before Mum handed them over. Sesame bars from the studio canteen. Whenever Mum rang to say she was going to be late, she always brought home sesame bars.

  Pity the canteen doesn’t sell birth control stuff, thought Angus wearily.

  Mum rubbed her eyes and yawned again. Angus saw she was looking pretty weary herself. Either that or depressed. If she was depressed, Angus hoped it was because Number Four had gone off her sexually.

  Number Four came into the laundry wrapped in a sheet. He rubbed his eyes and put his arms round Mum.

  Angus sighed. It didn’t look as though he had.

  ‘G’day, Angus,’ said Number Four. ‘How you going?’

  ‘OK,’ said Angus. He didn’t mention that he was almost throwing up from Number Four’s stale cigarette smell.

  Mum didn’t seem to mind. She gave Number Four a big wet kiss.

  She must really love him, thought Angus gloomily. He had a horrible vision of Mum and Number Four getting married on the show her network did where people had weddings live on air, ending with Mum turning to the camera with confetti in her hair and announcing she was pregnant.

  Not if I can help it, thought Angus.

  ‘I’m going for a shower,’ said Mum.

  Angus went back to folding the washing. He felt Number Four’s hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Mother’s Day’s coming up,’ said Number Four, keeping his voice low. ‘I reckon it’d be really good if you got something for your mum.’

  Angus gave Number Four a long look.

  ‘I’m getting her something,’ he said. ‘It’s under control.’

  ‘This stroller’s out of control,’ said Leo as he struggled to help Angus push it. ‘When Immie started crying and you tried to go faster, you bent the wheel on the kerb. It’s out of control.’

  ‘No it’s not,’ said Angus wearily, ‘it’s just hard to push. Out of control means you can’t stop something.’

  ‘Like you can’t stop Immie crying cause she’s teething?’ said Leo.

  Angus nodded wearily.

  ‘Like you can’t stop my finger hurting after that snail bit me just now?’ said Leo.

  Angus nodded wearily.

  ‘Like you can’t stop Mrs Bennett getting suspicious about Mum?’ said Leo.

  Angus nodded wearily. ‘Leo,’ he said, ‘that’s enough.’

  ‘Like you can’t stop Russell Hinch telling the whole school you’re doing sex with your girlfriend?’ said Leo. ‘Just cause you asked him about intra-submarine devices?’

  ‘Leo,’ yelled Angus, ‘that’s enough.’

  Leo’s eyes filled with tears, just like they did when his dad yelled at him.

  Angus gave Leo a hug. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s me I’m angry with, for being an idiot.’

  ‘You’re not an idiot,’ said Leo. ‘You’re just too busy.’

  ‘I’m an idiot,’ said Angus bitterly. ‘I’m an idiot for talking about contraceptives with Russell Hinch. He didn’t know what they were till I told him.’

  Angus shuddered at the memory of how Russell’s face had lit up and how he’d raced off yelling to his mates that Angus Solomon was doing it.

  Angus realised Imogen had started crying again. He took a tube of numbing gel out of his pocket and gently rubbed some on her gums.

  ‘I a idiot,’ said Imogen tearfully.

  ‘No you’re not,’ said Leo. ‘Angus is.’

  Soon Imogen stopped crying.

  It’s good stuff, this numbing gel, thought Angus. They should make one for people to rub on their chests after school to numb the pain of seeing all the other kids going off to rehearsals.

  ‘This intra-submarine device,’ said Leo. ‘Where are you going to get one?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Angus. ‘I’m still thinking.’

  ‘The navy might have them,’ said Leo.

  They’d just pushed the stroller round the next corner when a person dropped out of a tree.

  The person landed behind them with a pirate yell. For a second Angus thought it was Russell Hinch. Sprung, he told himself miserably, after I was so careful not to mention anything about Mum.


  But it wasn’t Russell Hinch, it was Rindi.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, grinning and shaking leaves out of her hair.

  Angus stared at her, flabbergasted. ‘How did you …?’

  ‘Leo told me yesterday how you always go to the childcare centre after school,’ said Rindi.

  ‘I told her about the fish,’ said Leo. ‘How they like crayons.’

  Angus watched as Rindi gave Leo a hug, her dark eyes flashing with amusement.

  ‘Rindi,’ yelled Imogen excitedly, ‘Rindi.’

  Rindi gave her a hug too.

  As the shock of Rindi’s entrance wore off, Angus realised how glad he was to see her.

  She turned to him. ‘Sorry I was so moody yesterday,’ she said. ‘I get like that sometimes.’

  ‘So does Angus,’ said Leo.

  ‘I was worried about you,’ said Angus.

  Rindi gave him a warm smile. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t bust a gut to get all the way over here just to talk about my dumb old moods. I’ve got some news.’

  She rummaged in her school bag. After a bit she swore and tipped everything out onto the footpath. Angus stared. There were clothes and books all mixed up with half-eaten food and lolly wrappers. It was worse than Leo’s bag.

  ‘Look,’ said Leo. ‘She’s got peanut butter in her shoe like me. You said only babies do that.’

  Angus gave him a glare. Mostly so none of them would see he was feeling a bit left out.

  Rindi handed Angus a crumpled sheet of paper with what looked like barbecue sauce on it. It was a photocopy of a page from the street directory. A street corner in the city was circled in green texta.

  ‘I’ve been ringing up medical equipment suppliers,’ said Rindi. ‘On Friday in the city there’s a medical convention. There’ll be heaps of medical equipment on display, including samples of contraceptives.’

  Angus felt a big grin creep across his face.

  ‘Free samples?’ he said.

  ‘Not exactly free,’ said Rindi.

  ‘For sale?’ he asked.

  Rindi shook her head.

  Angus felt his grin disappearing. ‘So how do we get them?’ he asked.

  ‘Think of it as a pirate raid,’ said Rindi.

  Angus started to feel a bit sick. ‘There might be security guards,’ he said, ‘and people with dentists drills.’