‘A disagreement, Miss.’
‘Jamie?’
‘He’s off his fuckin’ head, Miss . . .’
‘Jamie!’
It was clear who was the mature student in this situation. Miss Palmer could see that. Anyone could see that. I kept a dignified silence as Jamie carried on.
‘Sorry, Miss, but he is. He threatened to kill me and he mutters all the time. He’s a weirdo. He don’t belong here . . .’
I watched Jamie calmly. I examined him as if he were a bug I could crush beneath my heel. His face was red and blotchy from crying. He tried to hide it, but tears spread over his acne and dripped from his chin. A real mess. Scared. Of me. I tried to find pity for him, but it wasn’t there. I had known boys like Jamie for years. He fed on fear, provided it was other people’s. I had no pity for him and those like him. Only justice.
He blubbered on, but I didn’t pay attention. Finally, Miss Palmer turned to me.
‘Is this true, Michael? Did you threaten to kill him?’
I considered my words.
‘I think what I actually said was that I would rip his heart out and feed it to him. I suppose you could interpret that as a death threat.’
Miss Palmer tried to keep her expression neutral. But she couldn’t hide from me. I caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes, quickly replaced by another emotion. A grudging admiration for my calmness of manner and the precise way in which I was answering her questions. I continued, my voice steady and measured.
‘As you can tell from the words I used, I was emotional. But it’s also obvious that such a threat is foolish.’ I opened my arms wide. ‘I mean, look at me. Is it likely I could follow through with a threat like that?’
Archer rubbed at his eyes and leaned forward anxiously.
‘You didn’t see him, Miss.’
Miss Palmer held up a hand for silence. She didn’t take her eyes off me.
‘And what was it, precisely, that made you so emotional, Michael. What triggered this threat?’
‘He called Mr Atkins gay.’
‘I never—’
‘Quiet, please, Jamie,’ said Miss Palmer. ‘I want to hear what Michael has to say. Michael, why would you get so angry about such a comment?’
I thought again. I folded my hands under my chin.
‘Because it’s unjust, Miss. Injustice angers me.’
Miss Palmer leaned back in her chair and I dabbed at my nose with a clean tissue. The flow had stopped. There was silence for a while and then she stood.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘I want both of you to put your sides of the story in writing. But first, I think the nurse should check you out. Jamie, you come with me. Michael, there is a notepad and a pen on my desk. Start writing. Write everything down, just as it happened.’
Miss Palmer opened the door and waved for Jamie to follow her. At the last moment Jamie leaned down and whispered, though he didn’t stop moving.
‘You’re fuckin’ dead, Terny.’
It was peaceful in the room after they’d left. Just the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. I reached for the notepad. I didn’t start writing immediately though. I thought it all over. I wanted my evidence to be logical and clearly written. It wouldn’t matter, of course. Not in the long run. But I knew that when I started to make things happen, as Dreamrider, it would be good if people knew me as someone who was clear thinking. Not just a kid with more power than he could handle. Besides, I wanted Miss Palmer to think well of me. I liked her.
And I think she was beginning to admire me.
5 .
Dad was in a bad mood. He’d had to take time off work and it had annoyed him. I could see it in his eyes. And the way he wore his filthy black singlet and stained grey shorts. The stubble on his chin. He wanted to draw attention to the difference between them. Miss Palmer in her smart dress, Mr Atkins in neat slacks and short-sleeved shirt. Dad was the worker. He wanted to make them feel small.
‘So what are you saying? Exactly.’
I sat next to him in Miss Palmer’s office. I had been there the entire afternoon. Mr Atkins sat opposite, next to Miss Palmer. Just the four of us.
‘Michael is having problems, Mr Terny,’ said Miss Palmer. ‘Serious problems. What I’d like to do this afternoon is discuss these issues, see if we can find some common ground to address them. In particular, we’d like as much information as possible regarding Michael’s previous schools and his experiences there.’
Dad just looked at her. I wondered if she could see the contempt in his eyes. I hoped not.
‘Jeez. You guys don’t change, do you?’ he said. ‘I ask what you’re saying, exactly, and I get “issues”, “common ground” and “experiences”. You might have time to sit around here all day, but I don’t. I’m losing money. So answer a simple question. Yes or no. Is Michael being bullied?’
There was a pause.
‘Yes. Michael denies it, but he is being bullied,’ said Miss Palmer. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about this. She had something else on her mind. I could have told her, though, that it’s difficult to deflect Dad.
‘And what’s the school doing about it?’ demanded Dad.
‘All we can, Mr Terny.’
‘Really?’ said Dad. He was winding himself up. ‘“All we can”, eh? Well, I tell ya, from where I’m sitting that’s fuck all. I’ll bet you’ve got the glossy brochures though. Zero tolerance. It’s horseshit. Every school’s the same. “We won’t tolerate it, Mr Terny.” “Your son is safe with us, Mr Terny.” But he’s getting the crap bashed out of him while you lot drink tea in the staffroom.’
Miss Palmer leaned forward. Annoyance flared in her eyes, but when she spoke her voice was strong.
‘Mr Terny. We have staff on yard duty at all times. We take our duty of care very seriously at Millways.’
Dad snorted. ‘And I wouldn’t mind a dollar for every time I’ve heard that “duty of care” stuff either. So what’s happened, huh? The ones who bullied my son. Suspended? Expelled?’
‘Michael has refused to tell us who is bullying him, Mr Terny. And we can’t punish anyone unless we have evidence. You must understand that.’
Dad laughed, but it was an ugly sound.
‘Course he won’t tell you. Whaddya expect? God, you know how this works. Dob someone in and you’re dead. And that’s right, too. I haven’t brought my son up to be a dobber. I taught him to sort things out for himself. No one respects a dobber.’
‘I do,’ said Miss Palmer. ‘I respect anyone who is prepared to stand up against cowards by giving the authorities the means to deal with them.’
‘Not in this life,’ said Dad. ‘Not my son.’
‘So what do you expect us to do, then, Mr Terny? Punish everyone just on the off-chance?’
Dad leaned forward. He pointed a dirty finger at Miss Palmer.
‘Don’t get smart,’ he said. ‘Just do your job. Is that too much to ask?’
Mr Atkins suddenly spoke. I’d almost forgotten he was there. I think I even jumped a little.
‘Mr Terny. It’s not just about bullying. We are concerned for Michael in other ways and we would appreciate your assistance in getting to the bottom of his troubles.’
Dad leaned back and considered Mr Atkins. He didn’t give the impression of being much impressed with what he saw.
‘Oh, yeah? So what’s the problem?’
Mr Atkins glanced at Miss Palmer.
‘I think it might be better if we had this part of the conversation in private. Michael, would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes?’
Dad shook his head and clamped his hand onto my arm.
‘No way,’ he said. ‘You got something to say, you say it in front of Michael.’
‘We really don’t think that would be wise.’
‘It doesn’t much matter what you think, does it? Michael goes, I go. Then you can talk among yourselves. Maybe that’d be better.’
Miss Palmer and Mr Atkins exchanged glances again. This wa
sn’t going the way they wanted. Still, they seemed to reach a silent agreement. Mr Atkins did the talking.
‘Michael is behaving in ways that are causing grave concern. He is remote from other students. He retreats into worlds of his own. He talks to himself. At lunchtime he was found standing by himself in the full sun, dehydrated. We rang his previous school in Queensland. What they reported gives us even more cause for concern. They said—’
Dad got to his feet.
‘C’mon, Son,’ he said. ‘We’re outta here.’
Mr Atkins rose as well.
‘Mr Terny, you don’t understand—’
Dad raised his voice then.
‘No. You don’t understand. He’s a loner. What the hell do you expect? He’s bullied, he’s picked on, he doesn’t have friends. Jesus Christ. You are too much. And now he’s got a problem? Let me give you some advice. Stop the bullying. That’s the “issue” here. Not what some crazed old bag in Far North Queensland says. I’m warning you. Do your job properly when he comes in tomorrow or I am going to make a whole heap of shit about this school. Do you follow me?’
‘Michael will not be coming to school tomorrow.’ Miss Palmer’s voice was firm. Dad eyed her suspiciously.
‘Why not?’
‘Michael was involved in a fight this afternoon, Mr Terny,’ said Mr Atkins.
Dad turned towards him.
‘I saw the swollen nose,’ he said. ‘Figured he must have taken a smack. Don’t tell me – no one saw who did it.’
‘No,’ said Mr Atkins. ‘That’s not true. One of our staff did see what happened. He saw your son with another student. Mr Williams said Michael was behaving very violently, and he intervened because he feared for the other student’s safety.’
I think it was the first time Dad had looked at me since he’d entered the room. He whistled.
‘You’re kiddin’,’ he said.
‘I’m afraid not. Michael has since admitted that he threatened to kill this boy. And he has shown no remorse.’
Dad whistled again and then smiled broadly.
‘Well, that just about beats everything,’ he said. ‘Good on yer, Son. Bloody oath. Good on yer.’
‘Mr Terny, this is a serious matter,’ said Miss Palmer. ‘We cannot allow threatening behaviour in this school, regardless of provocation.’
‘No. You listen to me,’ said Dad. He pointed his finger straight at her face. ‘Because you don’t know Michael. I do. This shit’s gone on for years. Every school the same. Black eyes, cut lips. And he never stood up for himself. I told him there’s only one language these bastards understand. And now you want me to be sorry he’s fought back? Well, I’m not. I’m proud of him.’
‘The school is not proud of his actions, Mr Terny,’ said Miss Palmer. ‘The school will not tolerate such behaviour. Michael is suspended for five days. He will return only after a further interview with me, in the presence of yourself and the school counsellor.’
For a moment I thought Dad was going to lose it big time. In the end, he decided on contempt.
‘Come on, Son,’ he said. ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here.’
‘Michael,’ said Mr Atkins. He looked at me kindly and his voice was soft. ‘Before you go. Is there anything you want to say?’
‘Can I still come to the Social?’ I said. ‘I mean, I know I’m suspended. But you also said I’m remote from other students and . . . well, I’d like to go. If that’s all right.’
Miss Palmer and Mr Atkins exchanged another glance. I thought I’d been pretty clever. There wasn’t really anywhere for them to go. Their eyes held a conversation, a question asked and a reply received.
‘Is it important to you, Michael?’ asked Miss Palmer.
‘Yes,’ I said.
I knew she understood.
‘On one condition,’ she said, finally. ‘That when you return to school, you co-operate fully with the school counsellor. Do you promise to do that, Michael?’
‘Of course,’ I said.
By that time none of this would matter at all.
6 .
Leah was waiting in the foyer. Dad looked straight through her. She trailed a few steps behind as Dad and I went to his ute in the front car park. He was in a good mood. The best in a very long time.
‘Good on yer, Son,’ he said for the twentieth time as he opened the door of the ute. ‘You mark my words, those bastards won’t be coming after you again in a hurry. You’ll see. The hardest part is standing up to them. It’ll be a lot easier from here on in.’
He said other things, but I wasn’t paying much attention. There was a storm blowing in from the east. The sky was darkening by the second. Clouds boiled overhead. There was a pink tinge to the air, the sun’s struggle to pierce the gathering gloom. It was beautiful. I stood with my face turned to the sky, watching.
‘It’s that session we had last night. Reckon that was it. Power from the shoulder, eh? Keep moving, did you?’
I smiled, but I didn’t say anything. Dad reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He peeled out a twenty dollar note.
‘I can’t give you a lift home, son. Every minute here is money lost. Not like those bludgers in there.’ He pointed back towards the school. ‘But get yourself a takeaway, all right? Reckon ya deserve it.’
I took the money and he drove off. I watched the smoke from the ute’s exhaust as it drifted and died, then tilted my head back and drank in the sky. Leah put her hand on my shoulder.
‘Can I come home with you?’ she asked. ‘You can tell me what happened in there.’
I nodded. We could stop off to eat somewhere on the way home. A place that sold good fish.
‘Tell me something, Leah,’ I said. ‘The clouds. The storm.’
She stood next to me and we watched the sky together. There was something about the way the clouds were boiling, the sense of huge energy building. It was like a window into myself.
‘Am I making that, or is it real?’ I said.
She gripped my arm.
‘Do you know, Michael? I’m not sure anymore.’
‘Neither am I,’ I said. ‘Neither am I.’
Mary didn’t stop talking for half an hour. She went into instant panic as soon as she saw Leah on the doorstep. I told her we’d eaten on the way home, but she didn’t listen. She bustled around the kitchen, getting crackers and dips, potato chips and a jug of cordial. And talked all the while. Finally, exhausted perhaps, she went into the back garden for a cigarette.
Leah and I sat at the table, picking at the crackers and dips and not saying much. I didn’t feel like talking. I felt on the edge of something. I could feel it inside me. I watched Leah, her head angled down towards the table, nibbling at a biscuit. There was beauty in the sweep of her hair, the curve of her nose, a small mole, close to her right eye, that I hadn’t noticed before. All of it filled me with wonder.
She held my gaze for a few moments and then smiled.
‘Where are you going tonight, Michael?’ she said.
The kitchen suddenly flared with lightning. Shadows fled from Leah’s face. For an instant her skin was bathed in a pure light. Then darkness crashed down as thunder shook the house. Immediately there was rain, a regular drumming on the roof that built to a frenzy. All other noise was drowned. Through the kitchen window, through a haze of water, I saw Mary walk between dripping palm trees, a lit cigarette between her lips. She strolled back to the door and leaned up against its frame. I watched the end of the cigarette glow as she took another drag.
‘I’ll take you with me, if you like,’ I said.
‘Should we go to the hospital? You could do good work there.’
‘Sure. But I have some business to attend to first.’
The lightning flashed again. It made me feel strong.
‘How are you, Michael?’
‘Good. Yourself?’
‘Can’t complain, mate. Can’t complain.’
I switched the phone to my other ear.
‘H
eard you had some trouble at school today,’ Martin continued. ‘That Archer kid. No style, that guy. No style at all.’
‘There was no trouble.’
‘I heard you went mental, Michael. Feel like telling me about it?’
‘No.’
Martin chuckled.
‘Pity. You see, the way the story goes, you nearly killed the stupid bastard. Had him on the floor. Would have beaten the shit out of him if old Williams hadn’t stopped you. I wish I’d been there, Michael. Must have been a sight to behold.’
I didn’t say anything.
‘The worm’s turned, has it, Michael? That’s interesting. Can I tell you a secret? You remember that thing with the cake? You think I did that just because I’m a bastard. But it’s more than that. I wanted to stir you up, Michael. Get you mad. To the point where you’d fight back. After today, it looks like you should be thanking me. What d’ya reckon?’
I didn’t say anything.
‘So, how did it feel, Michael? When you had Archer on the floor, seeing the fear on his stupid face, knowing you had power over him? I bet it felt good. I bet you got a boner.’
‘I’m hanging up now, Martin.’
‘And you copped a five-day suspension. Bit rough, that. Sort of ironic, too. You go for, what, years having the shit kicked out of you and nothing happens to your tormentors. Am I right?’
‘Correct.’
‘And now you finally fight back and what happens? You get caught and punished. I tell you, it’s enough to destroy your faith in the entire justice system.’
‘Life isn’t fair, Martin.’
‘Exactly my point. You’re learning, my fat friend. You’re learning. So why don’t we stop pretending? It’s so much easier when you give up all those illusions and realise that the only justice you’ll get in this life is the justice you dish out. It’s a dogeat-dog world out there, mate. You need to sharpen your teeth. Don’t get angry. Get even.’
‘Goodbye, Martin.’
I hung up.
I was in bed by ten o’clock. The storm had eased, but there were still occasional flashes of lightning that flickered white across my room. The thunder was a distant and occasional rumble. I needed to sleep. It was cooler now. The rain had washed some of the heat away. I pulled the blanket up to my neck.
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