‘No, you did good, Vee–’
I folded the trunks into two, then folded them again. It is impossible to fold a piece of paper seven times and I had now proved it was impossible to fold Funky Trunks more than three.
The crush in my chest barely let me squeeze the words out. ‘It’s just that I’ve decided not to go to the carnival.’
I risked a quick look to gauge their reaction. Caleb and Vee had both turned to Anders, their faces unreadable.
‘Why not?’ he asked.
I shrugged. I’d held off telling Mum while she’d been in hospital that I wanted to change schools, so I just couldn’t get into any discussion with Anders about ditching Perpetual Suckers before I got into it with Mum.
The silence rippled out across the room.
‘All right,’ he said finally. ‘Go tell your principal.’
‘What?’
‘If you’re not going to the carnival, you’ll have to let Mr Paulson know.’ He held Vee’s door open for me.
If that’s all it took...
‘Fine,’ I said, walking past him. ‘I will.’
‘And while you’re there, have a look at the school sign they’re putting up out the front.’ He slammed the door shut behind me.
I took my time getting dressed, but when I came out, Vee’s door was still closed.
The kitchen looked empty without Manny flashing knives at the benchtop. For the first time I noticed the flaking varnish, the worn patches that were normally obscured by his beaming presence.
I waited, but no-one came out of Vee’s room. So I slammed the front door on my way out. Just to let them know that I had gone.
‘Henwy – where’s your bwoo?’
‘My bwoo?’
Sebastian was slathered in enough blue zinc to spur Scotland to a win in the Rugby World Cup.
‘The shops wouldn’t sell me any. They said they needed it all for you–’ I dug a finger into his belly and he ran off gurgling with laughter.
Perpetual Suckers was a seething mass of colour, with half the school sporting yellow streamers, zinc, hairspray and ribbons and the other half wearing blue.
‘Henry!’ Hero ran up, blue glittery eyeballs goggling at the end of springs on his head. ‘You came!’
I flicked a finger at one of his eyeballs and watched it bounce crazily around his head. ‘Nah, I just gotta see Mr Paulson. Let him know I’m not coming.’
His face fell. ‘Oh ... OK.’ He pointed to the front of the school. ‘He’s fixing up the sign. I spelt it wrong. Sorry.’
‘OK–’ I backed off before he could try to change my mind. ‘Good luck for today. And remember, keep your legs up and kick hard.’
I waved and ran off, wondering what he had managed to misspell...
OLPS
SWIMMING CARNIVALE
DROWNING IN TALENT
SINKING WITH STILE.
I spotted Mr Paulson’s bright orange hair on the other side of the adventure playground. He stood at the base of the school sign, his hat in his hand, mopping his brow.
Towering above him was Perpetual Sucker’s Thought for the Day, the inspirational message read by tens of thousands of people on their daily commute into the city.
A message that today stopped me dead in my tracks.
LYDIA HOEY HOBSON
GET WELL SOON
OLPS XX
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I slammed the front door back against the wall. Caleb looked up from his newspaper, put a finger to his lips and pointed at Vee’s room.
I made an effort to keep my voice low.
‘Who told them to put up that sign?’
Caleb shrugged and went back to his paper.
Anders walked in from the kitchen, a blue lunch box in his hand.
‘Your little Spanish friend suggested it,’ he said. ‘The Grade Seven Pastoral Care Committee unanimously approved it and the principal implemented it.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Mr Paulson told us when we were up at the school yesterday,’ he said.
I instantly bristled. ‘What were you doing up there?’
‘Letting your principal know how your mum was going.’
It sounded reasonable, but I wondered what else they had discussed.
‘Unanimous is good,’ said Caleb, turning a page of his newspaper. ‘Perhaps you have more supporters at that school than you think.’
He looked at me over the lip of his coffee mug. ‘Be a shame to let them down.’
I stood undecided in the doorway. ‘Where’s Manny?’
Caleb took another swig of his coffee. ‘He’s at the hospital. He’ll call when Lydia is ready to come home.’
‘Are you picking her up?’
‘I am,’ said Caleb. ‘Unless you’d prefer me to barrack for you at the carnival, then I’m sure Anders would be happy to pick up your mum–’
He left the sentence hanging. I couldn’t imagine Caleb in the midst of one hundred and twenty-six Perpetual Suckers. But the fact that he’d offered caught me off-guard.
‘Thanks, but that’s OK, you don’t have to come–’
Caleb paused, his mug halfway to his mouth. ‘Does that mean what I hope it means?’
Anders stepped forward, his voice low. ‘You should do what you’re good at, Henry.’
I looked from one to the other. They were leaving the decision up to me. No-one was going to force me to do anything.
Should I stay or should I go?
It was my decision.
I thought of Mum and how she’d feel when she turned into our street and saw that sign out the front of the school. Her name up in giant letters for all the world to see. Not quite a billboard, but good enough. For now.
I owed Perpetual Suckers something for that, I guess. Hero, too. And Caleb and Manny and Vee, for looking after me, when there was no-one else who could. And Anders too, if I was being honest with myself.
And maybe he was right; maybe I owed it to myself to do what I was good at.
I toed a frayed edge of the rug. ‘Well, I do have the funkiest trunks in the stratosphere...’
‘You do,’ said Anders. ‘Vee would be disappointed if they didn’t have their moment in the sun.’
His blue eyes held mine.
The ringing of the school bell decided me.
‘OK, I’ll go.’
‘Excellent decision,’ said Caleb, folding the newspaper and rising. ‘Do you want me to bring the car round? Or are you happy to catch the bus with the hoi polloi?’
‘I’ll get the bus,’ I said, jerking into gear. ‘I’ll just get changed, then make some lunch–’
Anders sent the lunch box skidding across the table. ‘Manny made this for you before he went to the hospital.’
‘Awesome, thanks.’ I grabbed it and headed for my room. The colour registered halfway there and I stopped and turned back to Anders.
‘Did you tell Caleb and Vee to buy me blue togs and goggles?’
He nodded.
‘You knew that blue was my team’s colour?’
He nodded again.
I hadn’t known till I went up the school this morning that Burke was the blue team. But Anders had known. Because he had cared enough to find out.
I coloured and slapped the lunch box against my leg. Twice, for luck. ‘Thanks,’ I said finally.
He smiled. His second real smile for the week. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘Happy to help.’
‘The first event of the day will be the one-hundred-metres freestyle, followed by twenty-five metres, then fifty.’ Mr Paulson’s voice sounded tinny over the loudspeaker.
‘Could the following swimmers proceed immediately to the marshalling area: Joseph Castellaro, Angelica Fitzsimmon, Briony Gibson and Henry Hoey Hobson.’
I pulled on my cap and goggles and dropped my shorts.
‘Whoa, get your sunnies out, team,’ shouted Hero. ‘Triple-H is planning to blind the opposition in the hundred-metres freestyle.’
Burke cheered
and whistled. I flicked Hero with my towel, wishing that I’d brought the Lost Property Speedos instead.
My new hipster Funky Trunks were less revealing than my old togs, but they were a lot more ‘out there’ than I was used to ... they screamed ‘look at me’ when all I wanted was to fade quietly into the background.
The psychedelic blue, black and white squiggly pattern started to strobe if you looked at it too long – Don’t wear them around epileptics,Caleb had warned as I left the house. You might precipitate a conniption.
When Joey and Angelica clambered down from the Wills end of the stand, a wave of relief washed over me. Joey had on Funky Trunks too, in iridescent yellow and orange; Angelica had on the girls’ version, the Funkitas. Briony’s were a more sedate tear-drop pattern in blue, but still funky by anyone’s standards.
Thanks to Anders and Caleb and Vee, for the first time in my life, I had managed to fit in.
I followed Joey, Angelica and Briony, the giggly one from Angelica’s posse, out to the marshalling area. She wasn’t giggling today.
We all stood shaking the nerves out of our muscles, loosening them up, moving through a couple of stretches before the first race of the day.
Joey eyed me silently until a teacher I didn’t know showed up with a clipboard, and lined us up in Lanes One to Four.
‘Hey, Hobson–’ Joey jabbed me with a bony elbow. ‘Hero says you’re Burke’s secret weapon. He reckons you’re going to end their losing run. That true?’
I shrugged. I didn’t like talking before a race. Too many nerves.
‘Bet you five dollars you can’t beat Angelica.’
She flicked a quick frown at Joey. ‘Leave him alone. They’re going to call us in a minute.’
He ignored her. ‘What do you say, Hobson? Want to bet?’
I shook my head. I didn’t care about Angelica. I’d be happy just to beat Joey.
‘Stay in the order I’ve put you in,’ ordered the teacher with a clipboard. ‘And stand behind your blocks until the starter tells you differently. Now, go.’
As we filed back into the pool area, Briony leaned forward and whispered in my ear. ‘Lucky you didn’t take that bet. Angie made it to Regionals in four events last year.’
My nerves ratcheted up another notch. Angelica was in Lane Four, which meant she had the fastest qualifying time.
‘Nice togs, by the way,’ said Briony when we reached the start blocks. She was wearing blue too; we were team mates.
‘Thanks,’ I rumbled. Basso profundo was back. ‘So are yours.’
She smiled, though it beats me how she heard over the roar from the grandstands. The crowd had gone nuts. Screaming out war cries and waving blue and yellow pompoms, posters and banners. A writhing, war-painted Perpetual Sucker screamfest.
And right in front, waving like a madwoman, was a tiny blonde figure in a wheelchair.
My mum. She’d made it.
She had a bunch of blue hydrangeas that had seen better days in her lap, an arm in a sling and a leg in a dark blue half-cast. But she’d made it.
She kissed her fingertips at me and blasted me with that indestructible hundred-watt smile.
Anders stood at her back, holding a pair of crutches that had been festooned with blue ribbons. Beside him, Caleb doffed a black fedora with a sky-blue feather tucked into the band. A grinning Manny held up a blue lunch box in one hand – I must have left it in my room – and a video camera in the other. Caleb pointed at the camera and held up four fingers followed by a peace sign. 4 V.
For Vee.
Something powered through me like a current. Charging every nerve in my body. The missing pieces of my jigsaw puzzle finally coming together to form a complete picture. Not like the one on everyone else’s box. But one that suited me.
For the first time in my life, I had my own personal cheer squad.
Energy coursed through my body as I looked down the line at Angelica, Joey and Briony standing behind their blocks.
‘Good luck, everyone,’ I said, and I meant it.
‘Thanks,’ said Briony. ‘You too.’
Angelica nodded, but Joey just looked at me like I was crazy. And maybe I was. But I wasn’t interested in taking bets, just in being the best that I could be.
‘Swimmers, take your blocks,’ boomed Mr Paulson over the loudspeaker.
‘Set–’
I grabbed the lip of the starting block and leaned back, like I was cocking a gun.
The beep of the electronic starter pulled the trigger and I exploded into the blue.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Manny leaned over and served Mrs Marquez first.
‘Chilli crab pasta with lemon oil. My own recipe. I hope it meets your high standards.’
She smiled up at him and I had to zip my bowl under his spaghetti fork to stop him from ladling linguini into my lap.
He snapped out of it as soon as he saw what he was doing. ‘Henry, I’m sorry–’ He leaned down, his breath hot in my ear. ‘–Hero’s dad was from Spain, but his mum’s from El Salvador, the cradle of the Mayan civilisation–’ He broke off, flushing like a fool. Hero didn’t notice; he was too busy telling everyone for the fifth time how he’d single-handedly won the all-age relay.
‘–After the first two laps, I thought we were dead; Angelica’s little sister is, like, genetically engineered – their dad swam at Olympic trials – and we were half a lap behind by the time the Grade Threes dived into the pool–’
‘Lucky we had the Delonge twins,’ I said, teasing him.
‘Exactamundo, amigo. Lucky we had the Delonge twins. Marco and Marissa got us back in the race. By the time the Grade Six girls were in the water, I knew it was on me. I had to make my leg count. Henry was as fast as Angelica, and Briony was every bit as good as Joey, they’d cancel each other out, so–’ He spread his palms, as though needing encouragement to continue his thrilling tale.
‘So it was up to you,’ supplied Caleb helpfully, ‘to make the critical difference in the closing stages of the race.’
‘Damn straight; it was up to me.’ He leaned forward. ‘I knew that if I could open up a bit of a lead on BB, then Briony and Henry would be able to bring it home.’ He slapped the table. ‘And I was right, wasn’t I?’
We must have missed our cue because he slapped the table again. ‘Was I right?’
A rapid murmur of agreement and bobbing of heads rippled around the table. Anders and Mum both grinned at Hero, then inadvertently at each other for a split second before shying away. It was still a bit awkward, but at least they were trying.
‘Did you see me, Mama?’ demanded Hero. ‘BB had to eat my bubbles. I was smoking. Water was dead-set evaporating in my wake–’
‘You were amazing, muchacho,’ said his mum. ‘Now, eat. Or Manfred will not invite us again.’ She showed Manny another glimpse of those lovely teeth and I figured there wasn’t much risk of that.
Hero spun his fork in the pasta ‘And how awesome was Henry? Did you see how much he had to make up to beat Joey after Angelica’s leg against Briony? My tonsils were hanging out of my mouth I was screaming so loud. They should have given him a Made-Of-Awesomeness Award. He got fiveblue ribbons andhe even beat A-team in the butterfly.’
He shovelled in a mouthful and kept right on talking around the linguine. ‘Man, you are so going to Regionals this year.’
Ordinarily that kind of praise would have had me flushing like a toilet, but not tonight. Not when every person in the room was on my side.
I had my own personal cheer squad. It might not be large, but it had diversity, and that counted for more than you’d think.
In nature, it was diversity that allowed tiny populations of endangered creatures to claw their way back from the brink of extinction. I figured it would be enough for me to claw my way to a viable position in the wildlife preserve of Perpetual Suckers.
‘Regionals! Oh, honey-bun, that would be soo exciting–’
‘Well, Districts at any rate,’ I said. ‘
Mr Paulson says I’ve qualified for the fifty-metres freestyle, backstroke and butterfly and the two-hundred-metres individual medley.’
‘Ma Mallory is running a special morning squad in the lead-up to Regionals,’ said Anders. ‘You interested?’
I nodded. ‘Angelica told me about it.’ I glanced at Mum. ‘I could do a paper round–’
‘No,’ said Mum firmly. ‘No more paper rounds. You’ve got money in the bank, why not use it?’
I looked at Anders, but he was hardly going to say no. He was a bigger swimming nut than I was. ‘Thanks,’ I said and meant it.
‘Happy to help,’ he said.
‘That reminds me, honey-bun,’ said Mum. ‘Mr Paulson wanted to know if you’re going on the Stradbroke weekend.’
She was working hard to keep her voice casual, but wasn’t quite pulling it off. ‘Manny and Anders are both keen, if you’re interested.’
‘I’m going,’ said Hero. ‘With my granddad. We’ve got a six-man tent if you want to share.’
‘I bags cooking,’ said Manny. ‘The rest of you can wash up.’
‘I can teach you both to surf,’ added Anders. ‘If you want.’
The tight band in my chest made it hard to get any words out. But I needed Mum to be OK with this, if it was going to work.
She reached over and squeezed my hand. Her smile was a bit wobbly, but it was there.
I got away with a quick nod because Hero was whooping it up enough for both of us.
‘That’s settled then,’ said Mum. ‘A toast.’ She held her silver goblet up high. ‘To Henry and Hero. For making the A-team.’
That cracked us both up. ‘No way,’ yelled Hero. ‘To Team Triple-H.’
‘Even better,’ said Mum.
‘To family,’ said Anders, holding up his own cup.
‘New beginnings,’ said Manny, sneaking a look at Mrs Marquez.
‘Enthralling middles,’ chimed in Vee.
‘And deeply satisfying ends,’ added Caleb.
We all clinked goblets and drank. A happy hubbub ran around the table as we ate.
Everyone had a story. Me ... Mum ... even Anders, when he could get the words out. Telling it could be hard sometimes, but it was usually the things we didn’t say, the untold stories, that ate away at us the most.
Henry Hoey Hobson Page 16
