Lina at the Games

by Sally Rippin

  Eventually a big grey Mercedes pulled up to the curb where Lina stood and Sarah and her father stepped out of the car. Sarah was wearing a pretty floral dress, a small felt hat and lace gloves. Her father was in a crisp grey suit that matched his steely grey eyes. The same grey eyes as his daughter’s, but without the occasional glimmer of friendliness that Lina sometimes saw in Sarah’s. Mr Buttersworth nodded at Lina and stuck out his hand. Lina quickly wiped her sweaty palms down the sides of her school uniform. Lina’s father took her hand in a firm grip and gave it one brisk shake.

  ‘Dad, this is Lina,’ Sarah said in a stiff voice.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Buttersworth,’ Lina said politely. ‘Thank you for picking me up today.’

  Lina’s father looked down his long straight nose and raised an eyebrow. ‘You speak good English,’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘Not like most of those new Australians. They don’t even try to learn the language. Your parents must speak good English, too, I imagine?’

  Now I understand where Sarah gets her rudeness from! Lina thought. ‘Actually, we only speak Italian at home,’ she mumbled.

  ‘Really?’ Sarah’s father said, tilting his head back even further. Sarah shifted uncomfortably and picked at a loose thread in her lace gloves. ‘Well, it’s not often that St Brigid’s allow migrants into the school, I must say. It has a very long and . . .’ he paused, searching for the right word, ‘exclusive history. You should feel honoured.’ He grimaced a stiff half smile, but it did nothing to extinguish the fire that had begun to burn in Lina’s chest.

  I can’t believe he can say things like that! she fumed. She took a deep breath and tried to think of how Sister Rosemary might respond. Calm and clever, she told herself. Calm and clever. ‘Actually,’ she said to Mr Buttersworth, with only a slight waver in her voice, ‘I did a little survey for our school magazine recently. You might be surprised to know there are, in fact, forty-three students who consider themselves new Australians.’ She met Mr Buttersworth’s eye to see how he would respond. Sarah was still picking at her glove.

  ‘Well . . . that is surprising,’ Sarah’s father said, his lip curling slightly in distaste. ‘Especially in a school of only six hundred students. I suppose it was bound to happen. It’s happening all over Australia, now that our government has this ridiculous open door policy. It’s just a little disappointing to discover that St Brigid’s isn’t more discerning, that’s all. Not that I doubt you’re a good student, Lina. I’m not talking about you, of course. Sarah says you are almost as good a writer as she is!’

  Lina looked at Sarah, who hadn’t taken her eyes off her glove, and decided it would be better not to respond. Instead she smiled briskly in Mr Buttersworth’s direction. ‘Well, I’m glad we’re going to be inside today,’ she said. ‘It looks like it’s going to be a scorcher!’

  I can be just like you, Sister Rosemary, Lina thought proudly. Calm and clever. Calm and clever.

  SARAH’S father found a park on Batman Avenue and they walked up to the brand new swimming centre, built especially for the Olympics. Once inside, he took them to the stands reserved for VIPs. Lina was curious to know what kind of  Very Important Person he was, but Sarah was unusually quiet, so Lina didn’t feel like it was the best time to ask. Instead, she rejoiced in the fact that they had a clear view of the pool and were sitting just above the finish line. They would be the first to see who won.

  They watched lots of races, but the person Lina was really waiting for hadn’t appeared yet. She looked down at the program Mr Buttersworth had in his hands and saw that Dawn Fraser’s race wasn’t far off. Then she jotted a quick description of the swimming centre in her ever-present notebook, feeling very official.

  Mr Buttersworth must have seen her furtive scribbling because he turned to his daughter and snapped, ‘I hope you’re taking notes, Sarah. I’m not paying good money for you just to sit back and enjoy yourself, you know!’

  Sarah quickly fumbled around in her handbag for a small notepad and pencil. She flipped open to a clean page and began to write furiously. Lina tucked hers back into the pocket of her school uniform.

  ‘Sarah will be studying law at Melbourne University, like I did,’ Mr Buttersworth told Lina. ‘Though goodness knows we’ve wasted a fortune on tutors just to keep her at the top of the class. She’s not the sharpest pencil in the pack, you know.’ He winked. ‘I bet your parents don’t have to remind you to do your homework, do they?’

  Lina snuck a look at Sarah, who was shrinking into her seat, growing smaller and quieter by the minute. A father shouldn’t say things like that about his daughter! Lina thought, feeling indignant on Sarah’s behalf. I’m glad Papa isn’t like Mr Buttersworth. Poor Sarah!

  Lina began to feel sorry for Sarah. Was she just like Peter from her primary school? A bully only because she had been bullied?

  ‘Actually, my parents have to remind me every night,’ Lina joked loudly, shooting Sarah a sympathetic look. But Sarah turned away and stared out over the pool. Lina shrugged. I don’t think I’ll ever understand that girl, she thought. All the same, seeing the way that Sarah was around her father softened Lina’s feelings towards her even more.

  At last it was the race they had been waiting for. Dawn Fraser stepped up onto the blocks and Lina cheered loudly when they announced her name.

  ‘She’s going to win, I just know it!’ Lina said proudly to no one in particular, then crossed her fingers and held her breath.

  The gun went off. Dawn dived in and within a few metres was already streaming ahead.

  ‘Come on, Dawn! Come on, Dawn!’ Lina yelled. ‘You can do it!’

  Dawn reached the end of the pool, tumble-turned and pushed off. The crowd cheered louder. As if spurred on by their voices, Dawn began to swim even faster than before. Within seconds she had reached the finish line.

  Lina jumped out of her seat. ‘She won!’

  Even Sarah and her father were cheering loudly, and when the voice over the loudspeaker announced that she had broken a new world record, the stadium went berserk. Lina jumped up and down, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be on her best behaviour.

  ‘Woo hoo, Dawn!’ she yelled. ‘You’re my hero.’

  Finally, the crowd settled down as a new set of swimmers prepared to race. Lina was still buzzing with excitement. A gold medal and a world record! It was the perfect ending to her story. She would finish off her article that night with this happy finale.

  ‘She did well, didn’t she?’ Mr Buttersworth said, approvingly.

  Sarah nodded and Lina grinned.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said, turning to his daughter. ‘She will make a good cover story for that magazine you two are putting together. I’ll see about lining up that interview with her over the weekend.’

  Lina’s mouth dropped open. ‘Interview?’ she squeaked.

  Mr Buttersworth lifted the side of his mouth into a crooked smile. ‘Oh yes. I happen to be friends with someone on the Olympic Committee. When Sarah said the Mother Superior wanted an article on Dawn Fraser for the front cover I pulled a few strings to organise an interview with her. Didn’t I, darling?’ He patted Sarah on the knee. Sarah looked up and met Lina’s eyes for the first time that day.

  ‘Uh huh,’ she said disinterestedly. Then looked back down at her notebook.

  Lina felt all the blood drain from her face down into the pit of her stomach. A private interview? she thought. With Dawn Fraser? There’s no way I can compete with that! Even if mine’s the best article ever, it could never be as good as an interview with Dawn herself. I’ll never have the cover story now!

  There were still dozens of races to come, but all Lina wanted to do at that moment was go home.

  LINA waited for the bus at the stop in front of her school, where Sarah and her father had dropped her at the end of the day. Indigo clouds began to gather overhead and a chilly wind pricked her bare arms into goosebumps. It had been so warm that morning, but now the weather had changed she began to wish
she had brought her school blazer with her. Hurry up, bus! she thought irritably.

  Just as the first heavy drops began to spatter on the concrete, the bus drew into sight. Lina trudged up the steps. Despite her gloomy mood, she couldn’t help but smile when she recognised John’s dark head bowed in concentration over something in his lap.

  Lina snuck quietly up to his side. ‘Boo!’

  John almost bounced right out of his seat, and the pile of pencils and papers on his lap went tumbling to the floor.

  ‘Lina! You scared the life out of me!’ he said, clutching at his chest.

  ‘Sorry!’ Lina grinned, bending down to pick up the pencils that were rolling about in the aisle as the bus lurched into the street.

  John cleared the seat next to him and Lina sat down. ‘You don’t usually catch the bus this late,’ he said, straightening the papers on his lap.

  ‘I know,’ said Lina. ‘I went and saw the swimming at the Olympics today. With a girl from my school.’ Even though Lina tried to keep her smile steady,  John saw it falter.

  ‘Not your favourite person, huh?’

  Lina’s shoulders slumped as she thought about Sarah interviewing Dawn Fraser even though she knew how long Lina had been working on her article. ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think she’s my friend, and then other times . . . We work on the school magazine together. It was my idea, but sometimes I feel like she wants to take it over.

  ‘Can’t you get another friend to do it with you?’ John said.

  Lina had to clamp her lips together to stop herself from bursting into tears. ‘I don’t have any other friends,’ she said in a squeaky voice. ‘Well, I did have another friend, a best friend even, but we’re not talking anymore.’

  ‘You’re obviously just choosing the wrong people, then,’ John said gently. ‘There are plenty of people in the world to be friends with. And, besides, it’s not true that you don’t have any other friends. I’m your friend, aren’t I?’

  Lina looked up into John’s face. ‘Thanks,’ she said shyly, then quickly changed the subject. ‘So, what were you concentrating on so much that you didn’t even see me get on the bus?’

  ‘You remember how I told you you I was thinking of writing a letter to the Olympic Committee?’ John said, excitedly. ‘About the closing ceremony?’

  ‘You didn’t write it, did you?’ she said, half disbelievingly, half impressed.

  John nodded. ‘I just felt like I had to. Maybe they won’t take any notice but I’m so sick of reading about all this fighting in the papers all the time, aren’t you?’

  ‘Definitely!’ said Lina. ‘That stuff between Hungary and Russia sounds awful.’

  ‘The Olympics is supposed to be a peaceful time!’ John continued. ‘Don’t you ever feel like you have to do something? You know, people just read about all these bad things in the world and nobody ever seems to care! Anyway.’ He shrugged and looked away, blushing. ‘I thought I’d give it a go.  You know, the pen is mightier than the sword and all that. I’m on my way to drop it in right now and I was just reading over it again.’ He looked up at Lina. ‘Would you read it for me? And tell me what you think?’

  ‘Of course! I’d love to.’ Lina took the pages John handed her. She peered down at John’s scribbly handwriting, feeling very honoured.

  Dear Friend,

  I am a Chinese boy and have just turned 17 years of age . . . it began.

  Lina smiled as she continued reading. The letter explained how John thought the Closing Ceremony should take place:

  The march I have in mind is different than the one during the Opening Ceremony . . . there will be only 1 NATION. War, politics and nationality will all be forgotten . . . THEY MUST NOT MARCH but walk freely and wave to the public . . . it will show the whole world how friendly Australia is. THE IMPORTANT THING IN THE OLYMPIC GAMES IS NOT TO WIN, BUT TO TAKE PART.

  John Ian.

  ‘This last page is a diagram of how I think the athletes should come out onto the grounds,’ John explained, pointing to a scrappy piece of paper covered in arrows and dots. ‘See? All of them mingling, not in straight rows.’

  Lina nodded approvingly then glanced up at the window. ‘Oh, it’s nearly my stop!’ she said, jumping up and handing John his letter.

  ‘So?’ John asked expectantly. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘No spelling mistakes,’ Lina said swinging her satchel onto her back and pulling the cord.

  ‘No, I mean, what do you think of my idea?’

  Lina smiled. At that moment, looking up at her hopefully, he looked like a little boy. ‘It’s great, John,’ she said. ‘It really is. You should definitely send it in.’

  ‘Thanks!’ said John, a grin splitting his face.

  The bus pulled into Lina’s stop. She began to make her way down the aisle, when John called out to her. ‘Lina!’

  She turned around.

  ‘You won’t tell anyone?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Promise?’ he said.

  ‘Promise,’ said Lina, and she trotted down the bus steps and onto the street. Then she looked up to see John waving from the window.

  My friend, she thought, proudly.

  LINA strolled down Rathdowne Street, thinking about John’s letter and how brave he was to send it. She’d dreamed up hundreds of letters like his over the years, addressed to all kinds of people, but she had never thought of actually sending them. I know they always say the pen is mightier than the sword, she thought, but who ever listens to what kids have to say? Maybe when people grow into adults they don’t care about these things anymore? Or they get too worn-out and tired? Lina thought of her father, turning over the pages of the newspaper, as if ignoring those bad things happening in the world would make them go away. Will I become like that? Lina wondered. I hope not!

  She turned into the narrow alleyway that lead to their back gate. It was the longer way home, but she wasn’t in any hurry to get back to her chores.

  As Lina drew closer to the back gate, she noticed two figures, a man and a woman with pale blond hair, leaning against the crooked fence palings. Her heart skipped a beat. Surely those Carlton Park bodgies wouldn’t be hanging around here? Lina crouched behind a rubbish bin, her heart pounding. When she dared, she peeked around the side of the bin. The man and woman were kissing. The man had his back to her, but Lina could see some of the girl. She had her hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a flowery summer dress on. The boy had thick black hair and was wearing a jacket just like Pierino’s good wool one with the leather patches on the elbows. His jeans were like Pierino’s, too, turned up at the cuffs just like he wore them. Oh my goodness! Lina had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stop herself from squealing. It’s Pierino! And he’s kissing a girl!

  Lina wondered if she should call out, but decided against it. Pierino has a girlfriend! She giggled. A girlfriend, a girlfriend! Why hasn’t he ever brought her home? But then the girl’s blonde ponytail came to mind and she knew right away. She’s not Italian. Lina gasped. Pierino knows Nonna would flip if he brought home an Aussie girl. I wonder if anyone else knows about her? She squirmed with excitement. She couldn’t wait to tell Bruno.

  Finally, Pierino and the girl stopped kissing, just as Lina’s legs were beginning to fall asleep. The girl hopped onto a bike and wobbled off down the alleyway. Pierino watched her go, then jerked open the heavy corrugated iron gate and disappeared inside. When enough time had passed, Lina slipped in behind him.

  To her delight, Bruno was in the backyard in his work clothes, forking manure into the garden beds.

  ‘You’re late,’ he said as Lina sauntered past, dumping her satchel onto the back porch.

  ‘I had the Olympics today, remember?’

  ‘Oh, that’s right,’ Bruno grunted. ‘The swimming, wasn’t it? They played it on the radio at school.’

  ‘Dawn Fraser won!’ Lina said, doing a little dance. ‘She broke a world record!’

  ‘I’m very hap
py for her. But you’d better get out of your school uniform and give me a hand, pronto. Nonna’s in a foul mood.’

  ‘I will, I will,’ Lina said impatiently. She turned around briefly to check that no one was within earshot, then sidled up to Bruno. ‘Did you know Pierino has a girlfriend?’

  Bruno stopped what he was doing and glared at Lina. ‘What are you talking about? Have you been sticking your nose into other people’s business again?’

  Lina frowned, offended. ‘No! I saw them kissing at the back gate.’

  Bruno’s eyes flashed. He grabbed Lina by the elbow and pulled her after him until they were standing behind the tin shed. ‘For goodness’ sakes,’ he hissed angrily, ‘what do I need to do to keep you out of trouble? You tell no one about that girl, okay?’

  ‘Bruno! Stop it – you’re hurting me!’ Lina said indignantly, pulling her elbow from her brother’s grasp. ‘What’s the big deal? I know Nonna doesn’t like Pierino seeing Aussie girls, but sheesh! It’s not like she’d kill him!’

  Bruno glared at her. ‘She mightn’t but Darren would.’

  ‘Darren? Who’s Darren?’ Lina said, rubbing at the red mark above her elbow.

  ‘Pimple-faced bodgie. That guy ring a bell?’ Bruno sneered. ‘If he finds out you’ve seen your brother kissing his sister, I can’t tell you who’ll be digging their grave first, you or Pierino.’

  Lina gasped. ‘That girl, Pierino’s girlfriend, she’s the bodgie’s sister ?’

  Bruno nodded. ‘And he’s not too happy about his sister going out with a wog, I can tell you. That split lip and black eye I got? Just a little message from Darren to Pierino to stay away from his sister. You get involved and he won’t hesitate to use you as a messenger, too.’

  ‘But . . . but what’s it got to do with him? Can’t his sister go out with whoever she wants?’