Spud

by Unknown

  Apparently The Glock had ordered the tree chopped down so that there would be no copycat tree house builders. The groundskeeper’s teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he explained that he had used the wood to build a Wendy house for the staff with young children.

  The Crazy Eight – from Mad House to Wendy House.

  Tuesday 5th November

  DARRYL’S BIRTHDAY

  In what must rank as one of the worst birthdays ever:

  JR Ewing, Barryl and Thinny threw him in the fountain.

  Pike, Devries, Emberton and Anderson bogwashed him.

  Darryl then puked on Anderson’s shoe, and was beaten four with the sawn-off hockey stick.

  Boggo’s opened betting on how long Darryl will last at the school.

  Gone by the long weekend 1–1

  No return after long weekend 2–1

  Gone before the Christmas holidays 5–1

  Will last until the end of matric 1 000 000–1

  Further bad news for poor Darryl is that it was Rambo who put down fifty bucks on him not returning from the long weekend.

  20:00 My father called in a state of great excitement. He says the South African cricket team under the captaincy of Clive Rice is going to play three one day internationals against India next week. Dad said, ‘Johnny, we’re going to give those curry munchers a bloody good thrashing.’ He then said he could smell burning coming from the garage and hung up.

  Simon had already heard the news. I could tell by the way he was marching around the cloisters pumping his fist and shouting, ‘Baby!’

  Wednesday 6th November

  Mad Dog has phoned me two days in a row now. He keeps asking me what’s going on at school. I told him about Darryl’s birthday and he roared with laughter. He then said, ‘What else?’ I told him that I had no more news and then he accused me of trying to hold back stuff to deliberately make him feel worse. I told him I had to go but then he started begging me to stay on the line. Luckily I saw Rambo having a piss and handed the phone over to him.

  As a joke Rambo pretended that he didn’t know who Mad Dog was. Poor Mad Dog was beside himself with agitation and kept listing a whole series of stories to jog Rambo’s memory. Rambo kept Mad Dog going for ages before telling him he needed help and hanging up. Rambo strode past me and snorted, ‘From Mad Dog to lap dog!’ The phone rang again. I told Runt to answer it and if it was for me to say I was at the tuck shop.

  It was Mad Dog again, looking for me. Runt did as I ordered. He then put down the phone and dropped to his knees and started doing press-ups. I asked the idiot why he was doing press-ups in the phone room. He said Mad Dog had ordered him to drop for fifty. I told him that Mad Dog had been expelled and was over a thousand kilometres away. He did them anyway. Then Vern pitched up after one of his urinal inspections. He skulked into the phone room like Runt and I were doing something highly confidential. He then slid onto his stomach and started doing press-ups along with Runt.

  I left the two cretins to their workout and headed to the common room for an episode of Santa Barbara.

  21:30 Dad phoned again and said he had just heard the squad announced on the radio. He says the selections were so bad that our under 15 side could beat the Springboks. He then said, ‘Well, I mean before the wheels fell off.’ He was most appalled about the selection of Andrew Hudson who he reckons is worse than useless. ‘What’s wrong with Pollock, Richards and Proctor?’ He then shouted, ‘Viva Adrian Kuiper!’ before handing the phone to Mom. There was a long silence before Dad came back on and said that Mom wasn’t going to have a word after all.

  Thursday 7th November

  Sparerib has resigned as our housemaster. He made the announcement at the house meeting and it was immediately followed by loud applause and whoops of joy. Sparerib thought we were cheering for him and became weirdly emotional. His good eye filled with tears and he kept shaking Anderson’s hand. Somebody stuck a piece of paper on the house board. It read:

  Full time score: Rambo 2 Sparerib 0

  Friday 8th November

  SPEECH DAY & LONG WEEKEND

  Being imprisoned like criminals for the long weekend meant that Speech Day had no light at the end of the tunnel. My heart sank when I saw Mom leading Wombat by the hand up Warrior’s Walk. Dad lagged behind and seemed to be furiously rubbing his right shoe against the trunk of a plane tree. I greeted them at the school entrance and asked Mom why she and Wombat were wearing hats. Mom said they were wearing hats because they were embarrassed because their son was an alkie.

  She then ordered me to show Wombat to the ladies’ room.

  Unfortunately the ladies’ room is on the other side of the quad so I had to make the deadly crossing in full view of the house. Wombat moved her handbag onto her other arm and eyed me shiftily. She then asked me how long I had been a criminal. I didn’t want to make a scene so I told her I’d recently taken it up. Suddenly there was a loud bark from a window above, followed by a shout of, ‘Hey, Milton! Nice babe, but I thought you were gay?’ Wombat darted into the loo and locked the door behind her as if I was going to attack her. She then took ages which meant I had to greet hundreds of parents as they filed past on the way to the amphitheatre.

  When Wombat eventually reappeared she accused me of hanging around the ladies’ toilet and of being a pervert. I led Wombat back across the quad towards Mom and Dad. There was a loud growl from above and then a shout of, ‘Give her one for me!’ Other parents had stopped in the quad and were looking around in confusion for the loud booming voice.

  Dad obviously didn’t get all the dog poo off his shoe because a nasty smell lingered around us for the long three hours of Speech Day. The people closest to Dad’s feet had to move after twenty minutes. Dad didn’t seem to notice that he was responsible for a large gap that had suddenly opened up around him and merrily cheered along as each prize winner was announced.

  This year’s speaker was even more boring than last year’s. And that’s quite an achievement considering Lance Ranger’s granny passed out from boredom during last year’s speech. The Guv was wearing his dark shades and showed very few signs of being awake during the three hours of torture.

  I received the English and History prizes. I was also given a certificate for academic merit. Vern was awarded the Van Vuuren trophy for commitment to the school. For once Vern didn’t do anything deranged, although it did take him quite a long time to find his seat again. (His mother ended up waving him to it like an airport signaller.)

  Next Year’s headboy is first team lock Rich Beamon (nickname Fuse) from Barnes House. The parents applauded loudly as he received his blazer and badge from Luthuli. Nobody seemed overly concerned that just two years ago Fuse was suspended after he attached a first year to a piece of rope and then dragged the poor slave around Trafalgar with one of the school tractors.

  Perhaps there’s hope for me yet.

  Dad put his arm around me during lunch in the quad and told me that he was still proud of me. I thanked him and told him he had dog turd on his shoe. Dad disappeared into the crowd and then returned within a minute. He showed off a clean shoe and the bottom of his right pant leg which was soaked.

  Let’s hope Pissing Pete was the only one to see my father washing off dog turd in the school fountain.

  Mom and Wombat both started crying when it was time to go, although I think this wasn’t because they were sorry to be leaving me but because Mr Hall had announced that the bar was closed.

  The Crazy Eight watched all the other boys driving off with their parents for the long weekend. Pike said goodbye to us repeatedly and howled with laughter every time he said it.

  Worse news is that Anderson and Death Breath are staying behind to study for exams. Our head of house has made it clear that if we so much as leave the house after 5pm every day we’ll be expelled.

  Sunday 10th November

  SOUTH AFRICA VS INDIA

  05:00 All six of the Crazy Eight risked expulsion by creeping out of the house and then sprint
ing across the quad, across another quad, up the stairs and then into the AV room. Boggo had bribed the Barnes AV representative to lend him the keys for the week in return for two porn mags and a starkers picture of Kim Basinger. Boggo said this was the reason why we had to pay five rand each to watch the cricket.

  After a fog delay, Andrew Hudson and Kepler Wessels strode onto Eden Gardens in front of 92 000 people, none of whom were shouting for us. Kapil Dev took the ball and had Andrew Hudson caught behind off the third ball of the match.

  After about two overs of play Fatty asked us when we were going to start cooking up the rice. When we told him that Cook and Rice were South African cricketers he said, ‘Bugger this,’ and went back to bed.

  Despite Allan Donald taking five wickets South Africa lost their first ever One Day International. I didn’t care because it was just so wonderful to see my country playing international cricket again.

  13:45 When we got back to the house Anderson demanded to know where I’d been because my mother has been disturbing his studying with non-stop phone calls. He gave me a number to phone and told me to do it immediately. I started to get the feeling that something really bad had happened. There was something about the way that everyone was looking at me that made me feel like they knew something that I didn’t.

  I stopped breathing when a woman’s voice said, ‘Hello, St Augustine’s hospital.’ My voice shook as I asked for my mother. There was a pause, followed by the click clacking of her sandals in a corridor. She said Dad may have had a heart attack but that he’s going to be fine. I asked her what caused his heart attack. ‘Hudson and Wessels,’ was her reply.

  According to Mom, Dad was so furious with Hudson’s three ball batting performance that he punched a hole in the bathroom door. She reckoned Wessels’ terribly slow batting finally drove him over the edge and he had a stabbing pain in his chest and collapsed on the floor. Mom called an ambulance and Dad was taken away on a stretcher still shouting on about Kepler Wessels being an Australian spy, deliberately trying to sabotage our cricket team with his slow run scoring.

  I put down the phone and took myself off for a stroll in case I burst into tears. If the third term is ‘silly season’ then the fourth term is the dying season!

  15:00 Dad didn’t have a heart attack. The doctor said it was an anxiety attack and Dad has been discharged with a packet of assorted tranquillizers.

  20:00 Dad called to say that he’s suing Hudson and Wessels for distress and hospital charges. He shouted, ‘Bring back Pollock!’ before Mom was able to get the phone away from him and send him to bed.

  Mom said Innocence has threatened to throw the television in the pool if Dad persists with his maniacal behaviour.

  Everyone was talking about my Dad’s heart attack although nobody asked me if he was all right.

  Monday 11th November

  WEEKEND SCORECARD

  RAMBO Broke into Pike’s room and booby-trapped it

  VERN Bust wanking seven times (three red-handed)

  SIMON Bounced a cricket ball on the side of his bat a record 113 times

  ROGER Tried to shag my toiletry bag. (And by the smell of things he may have pissed in it!)

  SPUD Spent a good portion of the weekend on the phone to Mad Dog

  BOGGO Bust Vern wanking seven times (three red-handed)

  MAD DOG Expelled (Spent a good portion of the weekend on the phone to Spud)

  FATTY Ate a third of Vern’s Adidas rugby boot after being dared to by Rambo. (He swallowed the tongue and laces but said Vern’s sole tasted funny.) He also gave us all a Tarot card reading

  Although Fatty definitely has links with the supernatural, and could be an alien, I’m not so sure his fortune telling skills are up to snuff. Half the time he seemed to be guessing and I noticed during my reading that he kept looking at his watch. He said the exact timing of the reading was important to tell the future. I reckon I was just unlucky that my reading started fifteen minutes before lunch.

  TAROT CARD READING

  RAMBO Will die at 23 after a gunfight with a Mafia boss outside a nightclub in New York.

  SIMON Will captain Transvaal at cricket. Unfortunately his career will be cut short by a freak injury. Will also discover he’s gay after his 21st birthday.

  BOGGO Will fall in love with a beautiful prostitute and live happily ever after. (Sure, I’ve heard that one before.)

  SPUD Will become famous and wealthy after his diaries are secretly published.

  VERN Will be bald by twenty and in a mental institution by thirty.

  ROGER Will die young after choking on a fur ball.

  FATTY Will achieve a doctorate in archaeology and claim the first official sighting of the Loch Ness Monster.

  There was much applause from Boggo as Darryl dragged his trunk through our dormitory. Boggo then started singing ‘50 Bucks…’ over and over and dancing a jig on his locker. Rambo handed over the cash and then strode off to maim Darryl.

  22:00 There was a loud scream from the bogs. We raced down to find Pike foaming at the mouth and writhing around on the bathroom floor in agony. Rambo had replaced Pike’s toothpaste with Deep Heat.

  Rambo’s also sewn sardines into the lining of Pike’s mattress and sprinkled itchy powder in the crotch of three pairs of his underpants.

  Revenge is very sweet.

  Tuesday 12th November

  South Africa lost again, although thankfully Hudson was dropped and Wessels batted faster this time. There were no calls from home.

  Rambo reckons that since the Sad Six has been thrashed, Sparerib retired and Pike is in the san with a genital rash, the only further outstanding revenge target is Anderson.

  Thursday 14th November

  I’ve finally decided that enough is enough and it’s time for make or break.

  Dear Mermaid

  How you doing? How’s school? When do your exams start? Had a really boring weekend here at school with not much to do and prefects lurking around and looking threatening. Has your Mom decided what you guys are doing in the holidays? Not sure what we are doing either although there has been talk of a family reunion in Namibia. Anyway I just wanted to wish you well for your exams and to say hi. Afraid I don’t have too much news because we are still being treated like criminals and have no contact with the outside world.

  Lots of love

  Johnny

  Ps Do you want to be my girlfriend again?

  Pps I’ve been wanting to ask you this since the dance.

  Ppps What do you think?

  Pppps Please reply soon.

  Ppppps Sorry about all the ps… ing.

  21:15 Roger was sleeping on my pillow while I lay sprawled out on my bed reading a book on restoration theatre and stroking the purring animal with one hand. Then out of the blue Vern attacked me. I heard Boggo shout, ‘Parra, okes, parra! Check, Spud and Rain Man are having it off!’ Vern was screaming loudly and trying to bash my head into the wooden partition. I kicked him solidly in the balls and was able to get out of his grip and thump him on the head with The Guide to Restoration Theatre. This stunned Rain Man momentarily and I was able to catch him in a deadly Milton headlock. (If my arms were slightly longer I could have got him into an unbreakable half nelson.) Vern struggled and screamed but I held him until his body suddenly fell limp and the idiot collapsed onto the floor and pretended he was dead. Everyone started laughing and mocking Rain Man especially when his left eye opened slightly to check out the crowd. Obviously this was Vern’s cretinous way of saving face after he lost the fight that he started in the first place. Fatty stepped forward and shouted, ‘Hey, guys, Vern’s dying! I’ve got to give him mouth to mouth.’ Before Fatty could move a step Vern came back to life. He fluttered his eyelids and pretended that he had just come out of a coma and had completely lost his memory. Simon asked him his name. Vern pretended he didn’t know. Rambo then grabbed Vern’s left hand and said, ‘Hey, Vern, why are you wearing my watch?’ Poor Vern couldn’t argue as Rambo ripped off his watch a
nd stuffed it into his pocket. There was nothing Vern could do other than watch his possessions being stolen and handed out. Eventually all his clothes, possessions, mattress, duvet and pillows had been dragged off and hidden. Vern sat on the hard wooden planks of his bed and muttered angrily to himself. Rambo shouted from the far end of the dormitory, ‘Hey, Vern! I think you learned a couple of lessons here today. Never enter a fight unless you know you can finish it and never play the martyr unless you enjoy being walked on.’ Vern jotted something down in his notebook but said nothing.

  Despite the fact that Vern cold bloodedly tried to slam my head into the wall, I still felt sorry for him curled up on the wooden planks and sniffing and sighing to himself. I stole Mad Dog’s old mattress and gave him my blanket and laundry bag which he could use as a pillow. Obviously Roger has forgiven his master for whatever he’d done wrong because he settled down on Vern’s chest with some loud purring and intense head butting.

  Mental Note 1: Never enter a fight unless you can finish it.

  Mental Note 2: Never play the martyr unless you enjoy being walked on.

  The dreaded Hudson has returned to the South African team but to everyone’s relief he wasn’t called on to bat. At last South Africa won a game and Dad sounded delighted over the phone. He reckons because of his fine performance today he’s decided not to sue Wessels, although he’s still planning to write a snotty letter to Hudson. Apparently Blacky barks every time Richard Snell runs in to bowl. Dad says this is because Blacky can smell a weirdo from a hundred paces.

  Friday 15th November

  Today’s the anniversary of Gecko’s death. I told the others but none of them seemed to be particularly interested. I took an afternoon stroll around the grounds and found myself passing the dam and climbing up the old hill to Hell’s View. The view looked different to how I remember it. Why is it that time travels so fast these days? I surveyed the green fields of the school below and the red brick buildings that looked like plasticine dummy models made by a nerd with too much time on his hands. Suddenly a wave of sadness overtook me. I wasn’t thinking about Gecko. I was thinking about my life. Everyone said school would get better as you went on – why do I get the feeling that this year has been considerably worse than last year? I decided that things had reached the point where a list needed to be written.