by Felice Arena
When Screamer stopped playing, his teacher nodded approvingly. ‘Even better than last week,’ he said.
‘Mr Li,’ said Screamer, sounding a bit nervous. ‘Mum said that you had something to tell me?’
‘Yes, Derek, I do. But first, come with me.’
Screamer stood up from the piano and walked with his teacher toward the window. Specky ducked just in time. He could hear Screamer and Mr Li draw closer.
If I run for it, they'll see me for sure, thought Specky.
He had no choice but to stay dead still. Screamer and Mr Li stopped about a metre from the window.
‘Look out there and tell me what you see,’ Mr Li said.
‘Trees, um…a red Holden Commodore, some buildings, a sparrow…’
‘No, no, no. Beyond the cars and trees, Derek—look again,’ said Mr Li. ‘There's a big world out there. And you deserve to see it. Music will take you to see it.’ After a pause, he continued. ‘Derek, one of the greatest pianists of our time, Yoshio Aihara, has announced that he will be coming to Australia to conduct a series of master classes for young up-and-coming musicians. But he is only taking five students and auditions will be held in a few weeks’ time. I believe that out of all my students, you should be the one to try out for this.’
Again, another long pause followed. Specky was holding his breath. He hoped they wouldn't come any closer to the window and discover him there. He looked around to see a woman walking her dog giving him a suspicious look. Fortunately, she kept moving.
‘Well, the look on your face says it all,’ said Mr Li.
Specky wished he could see the expression on Screamer's face. He thought again how surreal this whole situation was.
‘Are you still practising at your mother's work after school each day?’
‘Yeah, except when I've got footy training,’ replied Screamer. ‘You always ask me that—every week!’
‘And I will keep asking you. Practise. Practise. Practise. I can't say it enough.’
Mr Li and Screamer moved away from the window and moments later Screamer was playing the piano again.
‘Hey, you!’ A man walking toward the building called out to Specky. Specky didn't respond, he just struggled to get his bike upright—his legs had gone to sleep. Then he heard Mr Li say, ‘I wonder what's going on out there?’
Specky was busted. He had to get out of there before Screamer spotted him. He wheeled his bike as fast as he could toward the street, and took a running jump onto it. Once again he found himself crunching down on his pedals like a mad man—until he was out of sight.
Riding home, Specky wondered if Screamer had seen him—and what, if anything, he could do with this newfound information about his long-time rival.
Later that afternoon, Specky found himself standing to attention beside Tiger Girl, the Great McCarthy, Alice, and about twenty-five other debutante couples at their first rehearsal in the Booyong High School Hall. The dance teachers, who were also the organisers of the event, were an elderly husband-and-wife team—Mr and Mrs Twiddle. Their seventy-five-year-old neighbour, Shirley, was the pianist.
‘Quiet now, please!’ said Mrs Twiddle, stepping forward.
Specky glanced across to catch the Great McCarthy acting peculiar. He was bowing his head, grunting, ‘C'mon, c'mon,’ under his breath. Alice nudged him in the ribs to pay attention.
Specky turned to Tiger Girl, and she smiled. He grinned back, hiding the nerves he felt about being the youngest there.
‘Right, girls, or should I say, young ladies—beautiful, elegant young ladies. Your debutante is an event you will cherish for the rest of your lives,’ announced Mrs Twiddle, who sounded remarkably similar to the Queen of England.
‘Yes!’ yelped the Great McCarthy.
Everyone turned to Dieter. He quickly apologised, saying it was a sneeze. Alice screwed up her face, not looking too pleased with him. On closer inspection, Specky could see a wire running up the back of Dieter's neck and into his ear. Specky realised immediately what was going on—the Great McCarthy was listening to the footy on a radio hidden in his pocket.
‘This is the moment when you'll be presented to society not as girls, but as ladies,’ continued Mrs Twiddle. ‘And while this tradition may be fading in today's modern world, for Nigel and myself it's a ritual that we want to keep alive for many more years to come.’
‘Oh, no way!’ Dieter blurted out.
Again everyone turned to the Great McCarthy—and again he apologised.
Specky sniggered, finding it hard not to completely crack up. Mrs Twiddle shot a stern look at Dieter, while Alice looked away, embarrassed by her boyfriend.
‘Right, where was I?’ sniffed Mrs Twiddle.
She went on to discuss what was required over the coming weeks, including the types of dances everyone was to learn.
‘In time you'll all be dancing the Pride of Erin, the Boston Two Step, and the Progressive Barn Dance,’ Mrs Twiddle said proudly. ‘But for now, Nigel and I are going to show you the Swing Waltz. Shirley, music please.’
Specky and the others watched as Mr and Mrs Twiddle swayed and moved as one, as if they were gliding on air. At first everyone, including Specky, laughed and giggled, but the more they watched the more they were impressed. When the Twiddles stopped, everyone cheered and applauded.
‘Shirley, you can stop now,’ ordered Mrs Twiddle. ‘Shirley!’
Shirley was still playing the piano. She was a little hard of hearing. Mr Twiddle eventually had to go and tap her on the shoulder.
‘Right, who here among you strapping young men would like to try this with me?’ asked Mrs Twiddle.
‘YES!’ shouted the Great McCarthy.
Specky snorted with laughter. He knew that Dieter was only reacting to the footy commentary in his earpiece—Richmond must've kicked a goal. But now he had dobbed himself in. Mrs Twiddle pushed her way through the group, grabbed Dieter's hand, and dragged him out to the front. Dieter had no idea what was going on.
Everyone laughed nervously for the Great McCarthy—most of all Alice.
‘Right, put this hand on my hip and this hand on my hand. Okay, Shirley, music please! SHIRLEY, MUSIC!’
Again everyone burst into fits of laughter as the Great McCarthy shuffled his way through the routine—bumping into Mrs Twiddle and stepping on her feet. After the dance, which had looked more like a wrestling match, Dieter rejoined the rest of them, deeply embarrassed.
‘Nice one!’ Specky stirred.
‘Yeah, well at least the Tigers won. I picked eight this weekend,’ Dieter retorted. ‘And I wouldn't start hanging it on me if I were you!’
The Great McCarthy shot his hand up.
‘Um, Mrs Twiddle…’
‘What are you doing?’ panicked Specky.
‘Mrs Twiddle, Simon Magee wishes you had picked him. He's dying to give it a go.’
‘What? No, um…’ stuttered Specky.
But it was too late. Everyone cheered, and before Specky knew it he was hand in hand with Mrs Twiddle.
‘Shirley!’ yelled Mrs Twiddle, as Specky caught sight of Tiger Girl giving him the thumbs up.
When the music started, Specky stumbled as much as Dieter had, but after a few attempts he got the hang of it.
‘That's it. One, two, three…’ instructed Mrs Twiddle
Specky focused on each step he took as if he were learning a new footy skill, all the while trying to block out the heavy waves of perfume coming at him from Mrs Twiddle.
‘Give him a big round of applause, everyone! He's a real natural at this.’
Everyone cheered. Dieter shook his head as if to say ‘you lucky bugger, Magee', while Tiger Girl nodded proudly.
Moments later, every couple was attempting the Swing Waltz and by the end of the afternoon most of the students were actually enjoying it.
When Specky returned home he was in such a chipper mood he almost forgot about seeing Screamer that morning and the previous night's argument with Christina. That is
until his mother said, ‘Do you think Christina will want to join us at the debutante ball?’
Specky sighed. He knew an apology was in order and went to find the phone.
‘Hello, Mr Perry. It's Simon here. Can I talk to Christina, please?’
‘Sure, Simon, hold on…’
Specky wondered how he was going to say he was sorry and if he should bring Screamer up.
‘Um, Simon?’ Mr Perry had returned to the phone.
‘Yes.’
‘I'm sorry, but Christina is busy doing a school project and she can't come to the phone at the moment.’
‘Oh,’ coughed Specky, embarrassed.
Specky could hear Christina whispering to her dad in the background. It was obvious she didn't want to talk to him.
Specky thanked Mr Perry and hung up the phone, dejected. For a second or so he stood in the hallway staring into space. Were Christina and he no longer a couple?
‘And then he had to listen to the footy and he wasn't paying any attention to Mrs Twiddle…’
Alice was retelling the story to Mrs Magee as they made their way from the lounge room to the kitchen. Mr Magee followed a few steps behind.
‘Simon, have you put out the bins? It's bin night,’ he said.
Specky nodded and went outside. As he rolled the large green bin out to the front of the house, he thought he heard a rustling sound nearby. He looked around. It was difficult to see much in the dark and a winter fog had set in for the night.
Hmm. Probably just a possum, thought Specky. He shrugged and continued to wheel the bin into position on the nature strip.
Suddenly, a shadow came charging out of the darkness toward Specky. In an instant, he was hit from the side and flung to the ground, as if he had been tackled by Glenn Archer. But it wasn't the Kangaroo star, it was Screamer.
8. say what?
‘What the hell were you doing spying on me today, Magee?’ Screamer shouted angrily, pinning Specky to the ground.
‘Get off me, you psycho!’ Specky shouted back, trying to push him away.
For the next few minutes the two boys wrestled each other on the front lawn until Specky's father ran outside to see what all the commotion was about.
‘What the hell do you think you're doing?’ growled Mr Magee, pulling Screamer off his son.
Screamer batted Mr Magee's hand away—and sprinted off down the street.
‘What's going on?’ snapped Specky's dad, turning to face him.
‘Nothing, he's just psychotic,’ puffed Specky, catching his breath and brushing the grass off his shirt.
‘Simon! No one attacks you out of the blue like that for no reason. Now tell me why you two were fighting,’ ordered Mr Magee.
Specky told his dad about how he had discovered something about Screamer that most people didn't know. He didn't want to get into specifics.
‘And that gives him a reason to attack you?’ Specky had never seen his father so angry.
‘Dad, he didn't attack me. You make him sound like he's some mugger or something. Look, it's cool. Let's just leave it.’
Judging from the expression on Mr Magee's face, Specky could tell it definitely wasn't cool with him.
‘Wait by the car, I'm going inside to get my keys,’ he said angrily, storming back into the house.
‘Your keys? What for? Dad, wait! No, can't we just…’
There was nothing Specky could say. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop his dad from going to speak to Screamer's parents.
This is gonna be ugly, Specky thought, as he and his father pulled up in front of the Johnson house.
‘Yes?’ asked Screamer's mother, answering the door. She hadn't recognised Specky or his dad.
‘Mrs Johnson, I'm David Magee. Your son goes to school with my son, Simon.’
‘Oh, yes, the Magees. How can I help you?’
‘Derek just attacked Simon on the front lawn of my house and I—’
‘Who's at the door?’ came a booming voice from down the hall.
It was Mr Johnson.
‘Magees! What are you doin’ here?’ he snarled, pushing Screamer's mum aside and stepping toward the doorway.
That poor woman, Specky thought, being married to Mr Johnson.
Specky's dad repeated what he had said to Mrs Johnson.
‘Well, your son probably deserved it,’ scoffed Mr Johnson.
‘Excuse me!’ retorted Mr Magee. ‘It was unprovoked. Maybe this should be taken up with the police.’
‘Go ahead, Magee! Call them! See if I care. But your son hasn't been the golden child himself recently, has he? Being expelled only a week ago and now back to cause trouble.’
Specky winced. He wished he were anywhere else except in the middle of this awkward confrontation.
‘But just to prove you wrong, Magee,’ continued Mr Johnson. ‘Let's hear from Derek. Derek! Come 'ere!’
Screamer made his way into the hallway, brushed past his mum, and shuffled up beside his dad. He shot Specky a dirty look and then darted his eyes downward.
‘Did you attack Magee?’ asked Mr Johnson.
‘His name is Simon,’ said Specky's dad.
Screamer looked toward his mum, who was visibly upset.
‘Yeah,’ he grunted, to Specky's surprise. He had thought Screamer would deny it.
‘Why would you do that?’ asked Mrs Johnson. ‘Did he do something to you? Were you defending yourself?’
Mr Magee jumped in and told them everything Specky had said to him—that Specky had discovered something about Screamer and that he had attacked him because he didn't want Specky revealing his secret.
‘And what's the secret? What's the big mystery then?’ sneered Mr Johnson.
Specky saw Screamer's face go pale and noticed that his mother, who was standing behind Mr Johnson, suddenly looked very alarmed.
‘Simon didn't tell me,’ answered Mr Magee, giving Specky an annoyed look.
‘What's he talking about?’ exclaimed Screamer's dad, turning to his son. ‘What does Magee know about you that I don't?’
It suddenly dawned on Specky that Screamer's dad didn't know anything about his son's talent for playing the piano. He looked past Screamer and Mr Johnson and saw Mrs Johnson looking at him and silently shaking her head.
‘It's nothing!’ Specky blurted out.
‘What?’ said Mr Johnson and Mr Magee together.
‘It was all a game! It's a game that some of the boys at school have been playing all week—to see how many ambushes we can do on each other,’ lied Specky. ‘I got Screamer, I mean Derek, the other day, and he was just getting me back, isn't that right?’
Specky couldn't believe what he was saying—and neither could Screamer.
What followed next was an embarrassing few minutes for Mr Magee and Specky as they apologised to the Johnsons. On the drive home, Mr Magee was so upset with Specky he was speechless.
‘Dad,’ Specky said softly as they drove into their street. ‘I was just protecting Screamer back there. I made that story up.’
Mr Magee slammed on the brakes. Specky explained everything to his dad.
‘Well, I wish you had told me all of this earlier,’ sighed Mr Magee, looking somewhat relieved and less angry than he had a few minutes ago.
‘But why? Why protect a kid who has given you so much trouble?’
Specky wondered about that, too.
The following morning at school, Specky decided not to tell Tiger Girl or Johnny about his eventful weekend. He wanted time to work out what he could do to fix his relationship with Christina, and what, if anything, he would say to Screamer the next time he saw him. Which was sooner than Specky expected.
Before his first class, while Specky was getting his books out of his locker, he felt a small shove in his back. It was Screamer.
‘Thanks,’ he mumbled. ‘For not saying anything last night.’
Specky was shocked. It was the first time Screamer had spoken to him politely.
‘Yeah, well,
whatever. It's okay,’ replied Specky. ‘But why doesn't your old man know?’
‘'Cause he doesn't need to know, all right?’ snapped Screamer, back to his normal gruff self. ‘And you better not tell anyone, Magee, or I swear I'll—’
‘Yeah, relax will ya!’ said Specky. ‘I'm not gonna say anything…’ he paused. ‘I'm not gonna say anything if…’
‘If what?’
‘If you tell the boys in the team the truth—that I was never up myself and never once thought I was better than them. All I want is for them to treat me like any other member of the team. I don't expect any favours. I just want to play and train hard and earn my spot back and help us win as many games as we can.’
Screamer nodded—for a moment, he seemed like a regular guy.
‘All right, you're on,’ he said. ‘But for your information, I might've planted the seed of the idea not to take you back. But it was Danny and Robbo who ended up convincing the others. They're the ones who felt you did the dirty on them. I just pushed that 'cause I hate your guts, Magee, plain and simple!’
Screamer turned to head off to class.
‘Hey!’ Specky called after him. ‘I pretty much hate your guts, too, but I think you're a good player—and I'm not talking about footy. You should audition for that Japanese dude.’
For a split second, Specky could see Screamer was taken aback. But he was definitely back to his old self.
‘Get stuffed, Magee!’ he answered.
9. baulk and talk
At recess, Specky sent a text message to Christina. It was short and simple:
Sorry—Speck x
Specky waited, but there was no response.
‘Specky, man!’ yelled Johnny, waving him over to have a kick of a footy with some of the Year 10 boys.
‘Speck!’ came another familiar voice, this time from behind. It was Robbo.
That was quick, thought Specky as his old mate made his way over to him. Screamer must've said something to him already.
