Looking for Trouble

by John Marsden

  Saturday, Feb 29, 10.40 am

  It’s in the newspaper, with a photo of him on the front page. Gee, this is just so awful for the Edwards kids. I wonder if they’ll be at school on Monday.

  The paper had a special article on page 5, with the history of Mr Edwards’ life. It said he started as a car-park attendant. By the time he was 28 he had a car-rental business and by the time he was 30 he was bankrupt. Then he started again and built up Pedestal, from a little finance company to a big merchant bank. But he lost a lot of money on bad debts, then tried to get it back with a gambling scheme. The more he lost, the more he tried to get it back. It all ended in a big mess.

  It didn’t say much about his family, except that Adrienne was born the day the company collapsed. Not a very nice arrival for her.

  Phil and Luke are coming over after lunch.

  3.50 pm

  We had our meeting—it’s just finished. Phil and Luke had seen everything on the News too. Phil’s parents had known for ages like mine, but Luke’s didn’t, and they weren’t all that interested. They don’t speak English very well.

  Phil had seen a different newspaper to me and he’d read a bit I didn’t know about. Apparently the judge or magistrate or whatever he’s called said that threats had been made against Mr Edwards, so he had to be in a special cell over the weekend where no one could hurt him. Maybe that’s why the police cars were always hanging around their house—to protect Mr Edwards.

  We had a long talk about it. We were all still really shocked. To think how we’d started off looking for crimes and looking for crims, and we’d found this big big crim living so close to us. But it wasn’t anything like we’d expected. He wasn’t like a Mafia gangster living in a mansion with fast cars and electronic gates and huge swimming pools. Well, maybe he had lived like that for a while. Twenty-three million bucks could buy a lot of cars. But now they were just in an ordinary house. And the kids were so ordinary. You never think of crims having kids.

  I felt so bad for Mike. I’ve always liked him, I don’t know why. He’s got a sort of honest look about him, and I like the way he sticks up for himself, and the way he sticks up for his little brother and sisters too.

  Phil wanted to go over there right away and tell Mike we’d be his best mates and he could join LFT and we would fight anyone at school on Monday if they gave him a hard time. This didn’t seem a good idea to me, for quite a few reasons. One was that Phil hadn’t been friendly with Mike at all before this. Another was that I didn’t want to explain to Mike what LFT was for. Another was that Mike seemed to prefer fighting his own wars, as I’d found out the painful way.

  Luke didn’t want to go racing straight over to the Edwards’ house either. He said we probably wouldn’t be allowed in, because there’d probably be police there. As soon as he said that we went out to have a look. We crossed the road outside my place and had a look down the street at the Edwards’. We couldn’t see any cops and the house looked all locked up. Maybe they weren’t even there. So we went back to the garage.

  Luke also said it would be pretty hypocritical if he and Phil started being mates with Mike, which I secretly agreed with. But he did say that I’d always had a good attitude to Mike. I’m glad he said that.

  What Luke still wanted us to do was to get after Mr Denison, at Denison Imports. I was getting keener to try that too. So we agreed we’d hang out there Wednesday night, to see if he tried to get in to the factory again.

  The meeting finished suddenly because Luke’s mum rang. Luke was meant to be home by 2.30 so they could go to his nan’s. I could hear her yelling at Luke over the phone—she sounded pretty mad. Luke took off like he was on a 750 motorbike.

  9 pm

  Mum and Dad had to go over to Auntie Sal and Uncle Ben’s for an hour, to help make stuff for their church fete. They’ve let Jodie and me stay home on our own for once—they normally don’t like us being here at night with no baby-sitter. It’s cool though. We’ve had a good time. We made milk shakes with heaps of chocolate and malt in them, then watched an episode of ‘Major Crime Squad’ that we’d taped. We were talking about the Edwards, too. Jodie said she’d thought something funny was going on because her friend Eric is a paperboy and the newsagent had told him not to go near that house. I’d never known that before. It made me feel even sorrier for Mike, that people were treating them like they were radioactive.

  Monday, Mar 2, 9.50 am

  I couldn’t wait to get to the bus stop for once, but none of the Edwards kids was there, which wasn’t too surprising. I walked past their house yesterday as well as this morning, but both times it looked all locked up, like no one was home. Everyone at school was talking about it of course. Seems like hardly anyone had known before Friday, so I didn’t feel quite as stupid when I realised that. Mrs Hazell had a talk to us about how when Mike came back to school we had to treat him like normal. She said you can’t blame kids for what their parents do, which is fair enough. It was good the way she discussed it with us, treating us like we weren’t just stupid little kids. She said she and her husband had lost some money in Pedestal, but they’d never let money control their lives, so they just changed some of their plans to things that were even more interesting but cheaper, like gardening, which didn’t sound too interesting to me.

  Then Terry had to go and spoil it by saying, ‘Mrs Hazell, you’d better lock your cupboard when you go to lunch from now on’. She looked at him and said ‘What are you talking about Terry?’ He said ‘Well, if these people are crooks, we’d better start locking everything up’. I think he’d lost the script somewhere along the line. Like, when he was born.

  I started thinking about that Mr Denison bloke who ripped Dad off. I started wondering if maybe he had a family too. Maybe he had kids who thought he was a good dad, and they loved him and looked up to him, and if he got arrested and went to jail they’d be so upset.

  In a way I can’t wait to see Mike again, but in another way I’m nervous about it. I don’t know what I’ll say when we meet. Chances are he won’t let me say anything. Maybe I should ask Dad for boxing lessons.

  1.15 pm

  Phil wants to go to Chamberlain Road tomorrow night instead of Wednesday to try to catch Mr Denison. He chose tomorrow because it was a Tuesday night last week when someone got into the factory and took the letters. It’s not such a bad idea. I could get out like we did last time. Luke can stay at Phil’s because his parents are going out. They sell some stuff called Discovery and they go to sales meetings a lot. So we’re going to decide tomorrow.

  1.40 pm

  I don’t reckon Phil’s right about Kate being the girl who likes me so much. I’m pretty sure it’s Bianca. The reason I think it’s her is that I nearly caught her a minute ago putting something into my pencil case. And I think it was a note. I could just see a bit of white hidden in her hand, and it looked like paper. I don’t know if I want it to be her or not. She’s really pretty, but I think I like Natasha now. This could mean trouble.

  9.03 pm

  This is bad. It’s about three hours now since I found out, and I’ve got to admit I’ve been crying a bit. Mr Edwards has got to go to jail for such a long time: eight years. It’s awful. Dad says it doesn’t really mean eight years, that it might end up half that. But I don’t see that that helps much. All those Edwards kids growing up with their dad in jail—I feel so sorry for them. I’ve been talking to Mum and Dad for ages; then I came in here to write in this, and now I’m going to bed.

  Poor Mike. I hope he comes back to school.

  I don’t want to go to that Denison place tomorrow night.

  Tuesday, Mar 3, 12 noon

  Natasha is the only person I know who’s got a name for her pencil case. She calls it Grady. I caught her talking to it a few minutes ago. She showed me its heart. She’s got a rubber in her pencil case, the shape of a heart, and she never takes it out in case Grady dies, ’cos like she said, without a heart you die.

  I told her she should draw a face on
Grady, and that’s what she’s doing now. But I swear, sometimes I think I’m the only normal person I know.

  8.45 pm

  The lights are on at number 17 again, so I guess they’re back. I wanted to go down there to say hi to Mike, even though I’m really nervous about what might happen or what he might say. I’d like to do it though. But Mum and Dad said to wait, to let them settle in and settle down. I guess they’re right.

  Wednesday, Mar 4, 9.05 am

  Well! I don’t know where to start. I’m kind of churned up inside, like my stomach’s turned into a cement mixer. It’s hard to sit down and write this. But I will. It’s about Mike. We got to the bus stop pretty early this morning, but he was already there, so I don’t know what time he left home. There was no sign of Rory or Elissa. As soon as I saw Mike, it was funny, I got so nervous, it was like I was short of air. Like I could breathe in my mouth but no deeper than that. It was a strange feeling. He heard us coming, then when he saw who it was, he turned his back on us straight away. He was staring up the street as though he’d suddenly become interested in the stop sign. Like an idiot, all I could think to say was ‘It spells STOP’. As soon as the words formed in my brain they came out of my mouth. It happens like that sometimes. Mike didn’t turn around. He said ‘I know that. I’m not stupid.’ I couldn’t think of anything to say, so there was a bit of silence. Finally I said ‘I’m sorry about your Dad’. He said ‘Don’t bother. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me.’

  We got on the bus, and he went to the seat he usually goes to. You could see all the kids looking up at him as he walked along the aisle. But the good thing was, he sat down and then moved across to the window. He didn’t even look at me, but it was like he was saying ‘Sit here if you want to. It’s your choice.’ It was like he’d deliberately made room for me. So I sat there. I was feeling pretty embarrassed, but I was pleased too. The bus chugged along, with neither of us saying anything. At every stop, kids got on, and you could see them looking at Mike, or if they didn’t notice him other kids would nudge them and whisper to them, then they’d look round at him. And then they’d get embarrassed at being caught looking at him, so they’d turn back around, but they’d go whispering to their friends again and you’d know what they were talking about.

  Meanwhile I was trying to think of something to say. The school was getting closer, and I didn’t want to have the whole trip in silence. So finally I asked him ‘Where have you been the last few days?’ After a minute he said ‘At my nan’s’. So then I said ‘Where are Rory and Elissa? Are they still there?’ and he said ‘Nuh, they’re home. They might come to school tomorrow.’ The bus was pulling up and I said ‘Do you want to come over to my place this afternoon?’ He said ‘I don’t think I’d be allowed’. We got off and went to our classes, and that’s where I am now.

  11.30 am

  I couldn’t see Mike at Recess. I thought I saw him going into Mrs Cornell’s office, so maybe he had to talk to her. But something else interesting happened. A good thing. Mrs Hazell chose Natasha and me to photocopy a whole heap of stuff for Wide Reading. So there we were in the Print Room, with the photocopier churning and flashing like a little UFO, and we started talking. Well, Natasha started really. She suddenly said ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I said ‘Nothing. Whatta you mean?’ She said ‘You’ve looked funny all week. And you haven’t been talking or laughing like you normally do.’ I said ‘Uh, I guess it’s Mike’. She said ‘You mean Mike Edwards?’ I said ‘Yeah’. She said ‘Yeah, it’s bad, isn’t it?’ We had to stop talking to stack some sheets and change the page for the next copies. Then we pressed the green button on the machine and started talking again.

  Natasha said ‘You’re really upset about Mike aren’t you?’ And I said, ‘Yeah’. And she said ‘Really really really upset?’ And I said ‘Yeah yeah yeah’. Then I added, ‘They live just along from us.’

  After we changed the page again Natasha said ‘Um, I think there’s something I better tell you.’ I said ‘Yeah?’ She said ‘Um, those notes you’ve been getting …’ She was really nervous and red in the face. I knew straight away of course, and she knew I knew. ‘Yikes,’ I said. ‘You’re going red,’ she said. ‘So are you,’ I said.

  All the copies were done so we picked them up and headed for the door. ‘Um,’ I said. She stopped. I knew I was red now. ‘Do you want to …’ I couldn’t think of the right words. She looked like she was suddenly sunburnt. ‘Do you want to … go out with me?’ ‘Oh yeah’ she said. ‘OK’ I said. ‘OK’ she said. We both got the giggles and laughed all the way back to class.

  I’m glad it’s Natasha. I do like her.

  4.15 pm

  Well, nothing lasts forever I guess. Daylight, guinea pigs, toothpaste, Year 6, the Universe. Feeling good doesn’t either, I know that much. I hope feeling bad doesn’t last forever.

  This is what happened. Natasha and I got back to the classroom after we’d done the photocopying. After about half an hour we got put in pairs to work on our School Handbooks. (We have to write a manual of advice for new students, so they know what to expect if they come here.) I’m doing one with Phil. The first thing he asked me was why I was looking so pleased. So I told him how Natasha and I were going out together. I thought he’d say it was good, but he didn’t seem to like it at all. He said Natasha was a real geek. I didn’t like that, so I got upset and I stopped talking to him.

  So that was bad, but it got worse. At lunchtime about six of us were sitting on the bench under the big wattle tree. There were Phil and Luke and Nick and me, and a couple of others. I had a cricket ball and Nick had his bat, and we’d decided to have a game of cricket. We were just standing up to go when Mike came round the corner of the bike shed. I chucked him the ball and said ‘Mike, do you want to come and play cricket?’ He caught the ball before he even realised what it was. He did it automatically, like you do when someone throws you something suddenly. But before he could answer my question Phil said to me ‘You’ll be lucky if you ever see your ball again’.

  There was a blank of about two seconds before anyone realised what he meant. But suddenly everyone realised, at the same time. Mike lifted the ball like he was going to chuck it straight at Phil’s head. Luke yelled ‘No, Mike, don’t’. Nick leapt over and grabbed Mike’s arm, then got the cricket ball out of his hand before Mike could do anything. I turned on Phil and yelled ‘You’re a stupid slimy septic tank’. He looked shocked, almost like he really had been hit by the cricket ball. I got the ball off Nick, then grabbed Mike and dragged him away. I was so determined, and felt so strong that I could have dragged a hippopotamus. I didn’t even look round, at Mike or the others, till we got to the Library. Then we sat on the bench at the corner, in the sun, next to the foundation stone. Mike was white. You could see his freckles again. He had the shakes a bit.

  ‘Don’t worry about Phil’, I said. ‘He can be a real maggot-mouth sometimes. He can be a good bloke too, but just sometimes …’ ‘I’m not worried,’ Mike said. ‘Dad told me it’d probably be like this. Mum didn’t want me to come back here but Dad said I should.’

  ‘Why did he say you should?’ I asked.

  ‘He said I had to learn not to run away. He said he’s made my bed and now I have to lie in it.’

  ‘That’s a bit … it sounds a bit unfair,’ I said.

  He said, ‘Yeah, Dad said that too. But he said that’s how life is.’

  ‘Is he sorry, do you think?’ I asked. I was sorry I’d said it though, ’cos Mike lit up again. ‘Yeah of course he is. What do you reckon?’

  ‘OK, OK,’ I said. ‘Gee you’ve got a hot temper.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ he said. ‘I keep trying to control it. I’m better than I was.’

  Well, I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help wondering how bad his temper was before. Must have been like World War I meeting World War II, I reckon.

  Anyway, that’s what happened today. It’s funny, when Mum got home a minute ago she asked me ‘How was sch
ool?’ and I said ‘OK’. When you think about it, there were an awful lot of things to tell her, and just saying ‘OK’ doesn’t really cover them. But now that I’ve written it down and it’s clearer in my head, I think I might go and talk to her about it all. But I don’t know if I’ll tell her about Natasha. She might just think it’s silly and that we’re too young and everything. And I don’t want them making jokes about it. Maybe I’ll tell her, maybe I won’t.

  8.30 pm

  Dad’s job with Wattle Windows is starting to fizzle out. It was good while it lasted, and he’ll be there till the end of this week, which is longer than he expected. Saturday he’s got a job for a builder he’s worked for a few times—Mr Romano. It’s a country trip, to Dalgetty, with a load of tiles. They’re all on pallets, and it’s fork on, fork off, so he’s pleased about that. He said I can come and bring a mate if I want. It’s about 250 k’s each way. Jodie’s got Netball, so she has to stay behind.

  I asked Dad about Mr Denison, but he said he’d forgotten about it. He said it just wasn’t worth getting knotted up for a day’s wages. I didn’t remind him about the tip fees.

  Thursday, Mar 5, 11.35 am

  It’s weird that your friends can change so fast. Tuesday I was hanging around with Phil and Luke, same as always. Wednesday morning even. Now suddenly I’m hanging round with Natasha and Mike. I’m still friends with Luke, and I might be friends with Phil again, but at the moment we’re avoiding each other a bit. I feel bad about it, but I don’t know, there are things about Phil that I’ve never liked all that much. Now I think he’s taking it out on Helen. They’re at each other like kick-boxers. For instance, in Reading, Phil started passing a note around that said:

  Helen, Helen,

  Awful smellin,

  Stinks like spew,

  And looks it too.

  So Helen’s friends ripped that up and Helen started passing one around that read: