‘Oh, I remember sweet, little Charlotte,’ Miss Saxena says when I show her the note, her eyes lighting up at the memory. ‘She had shiny green eyes and frizzy brown curls.’
I nod. ‘That’s her all right. Except her curls are a bit grey now.’
‘It’s so good to know that people still care about this school, even after they’ve left.’
‘Yeah, just like my mum,’ I say. ‘She’s proud to have come from Barryjong, even if people made fun of her.’
Miss Saxena sips her tea. ‘They won’t be laughing now, after all your hard work.’
During lunch, Randa and I go into the office to get the ideas box. There’s a display of the prizes for our giant raffle behind the office counter. Charlotte has given us a picnic hamper bursting with goodies and we have a few vouchers from other stores including one for a giant meat tray from Randa’s dad. But everyone is going all out for the signed Wizards jersey. It’s been hanging there since it arrived from the Wizards last week. Michael Kola’s signature is smack bang in the middle.
Bilal comes in, waving a bag full of money to hand in at the office.
‘I’ve sold all my tickets!’ he says triumphantly.
‘Oh wow,’ I say. ‘Who did you sell them to?’
Bilal points to himself. ‘I used my birthday money to buy them. So I have fifty tickets in the draw.’
‘You’ve got a mega chance to win something,’ Randa says.
‘I hope so,’ Bilal says. ‘I’ve been dreaming of wearing that signed jersey, but even one of those vouchers would be sweet too.’
I’ve only bought ten tickets so far. Should I use my savings to get some more? I’m desperate to win that jersey but a part of me wouldn’t mind if someone else like Bilal won. And I’m wondering if it might look bad if a prefect won it.
Randa and I take the ideas box to the library where we meet up with Ally and Zain.
Randa puts her hand in the box. She pulls out a bunch of empty wrappers and used tissues. ‘Gross,’ she says, dropping them on the floor.
Ally turns away as she sticks her hand in. ‘Something’s squishy in there.’ She pulls out a piece of paper with a cockroach clinging on for dear life. Ally squeals and flings it against the wall. ‘I hate roaches!’
Zain springs into action and takes off his soccer boot.
‘One roach pancake, coming up.’
‘No!’ Ally squeals even louder. ‘It’s still a living thing.’
Zain raises his eyebrow. ‘Make up your mind, do you hate it or not?’
‘Put your shoe back on,’ Randa says. ‘Before you knock all of us out with your stinky socks.’
I get my school cap and trap the roach inside. I run outside to let it go free.
Ally breathes a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Raymond. You saved it.’
‘Now it can go scare other kids in the playground,’ Zain adds. He stares at the box. ‘I bet Russell and his gang pranked us. He found out what we’re all scared of and put it inside the box.’
Randa laughs. ‘I don’t know, Zain. Russell’s too big to fit into the box.’
‘I’m not scared of him,’ Zain says, stepping back from the box. ‘Raymond, you’re up next.’
‘I’m scared of baklava and chocolate cakes,’ I chant to myself. Maybe I can trick the box of scares. I quickly tip the box upside down and it’s a pile of papers.
‘It’s probably homework,’ Zain says. ‘That’s my worst fear.’
Randa comes closer when the pile starts moving. ‘Huh?’
A pair of red undies jumps up from the pile of papers. Now we’re shrieking in harmony. Zain takes off his shoe again. ‘One um … underwear pancake coming up.’
I move in for a better look. It’s a lime green frog that’s somehow tangled in the undies. I get my cap to trap it but it hops from the table. Ally and Randa are screaming their lungs out as the frog in undies makes its way through the library. More kids are joining in on the scream-fest. Some are trying to catch it like Zain and I. Mrs Moore gets up from her seat.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Runaway undies,’ a kid says.
Zain and I quickly explain to Mrs Moore about what’s going on. ‘We’ll try to catch it,’ I say.
Mrs Moore tells the kids to move towards the other side of the library.
Zain and I grab a broom and dustpan and we manage to force it into Mrs Moore’s office.
Zain closes the door. ‘I hope she likes frogs.’
‘And red undies,’ I add. We both crack up.
Mrs Moore catches up to us. ‘Nice work boys,’ she says. ‘I’ll call the groundskeeper and see what he can do.’
Zain and I walk back to the table. Ally and Randa have already started sorting out the papers.
‘Is the frog all right?’ Ally asks.
‘Yeah, all in the day’s work for a prefect,’ I say. ‘Any other surprises in the box?’
‘Just one more,’ Randa says. ‘We were surprised to find some impressive suggestions.’
She shares the papers around and we pick out the best ones. Two of them really stand out. Zain waves those two papers in the air.
‘A teachers vs students soccer match or water balloon fight?’
‘Why not do both?’ I say.
‘At the same time?’ Zain says. ‘I’d pay to see that.’
‘Let’s go for the water balloon fight,’ Ally says. ‘Save the teachers match for a winter fundraiser.’
Randa smiles. ‘Okay, let’s lock it in.’
I hear Mr Humble’s booming voice in the library. ‘Hopping undies?’
We all get up to go see him.
Mrs Moore sees Zain and I. ‘Yes, those prefects managed to herd the frog into my office.’
Mr Humble takes out his phone. ‘A frog in his cute little underwear, just wait until Mrs Burrows see this.’
‘No, these were human undies,’ Ally says.
‘What size were they?’ Mr Humble asks.
‘Why, Sir? Did you lose some?’ I say with half a smile.
Mr Humble pats my shoulder. ‘My mum always told me to bring a spare pair, just in case.’
Our groundskeeper, Mr Hindley walks in with a bucket. ‘Alright, where’s the underwear thief?’
We all turn away to hide our giggles, but mine comes out my nose. I snort out my laughter as Mr Hindley walks into the office.
‘I think Russell did this,’ Zain says.
‘Have you got proof?’ Mr Humble says.
‘Maybe he writes his name on his underwear,’ I say.
‘That’s enough gross stuff for one day,’ Randa says. ‘While you’re here, Sir, we have a winning suggestion, a water balloon fight.’
Mr Humble nods energetically. ‘I know a store that sells these cool water balloons, we used them at my old school.’
Zain raises an eyebrow. ‘You guys had water balloon fights too?’
Mr Humble laughs. ‘Oh yeah, it was the best stress relief ever.’
Mr Hindley walks out, holding the bucket close to his chest, with a book covering the top. ‘I’ll take our slippery little friend to the creek near the school.’
Ally claps her hands. ‘Thanks, Mr Hindley.’
‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ Mr Hindley digs in his back pocket and holds up the red underwear for us to see. Randa shrieks and hides behind Mr Humble.
Mr Humble grabs the underwear. ‘Thanks, Mr Hindley. I’ll take those to the lost property box.’
Mr Hindley carries the bucket out of the library, with a trail of excited kids wanting to see the frog. Ally and Randa head off for a drink and, in Randa’s case, probably a lie down.
Zain looks at his watch. ‘We still have ten minutes of lunch left, which means I can score five goals on the field. Coming, RayBee?’
‘Yeah, in a sec,’ I say.
Zain runs out of the library and I walk up to Mr Humble. ‘Oh, Sir, my mum also had an idea to invite any ex-students to come along to the Footy Fan Day.’
‘Yes, your mother
already called me,’ Mr Humble says. ‘We’re going to have a morning tea for ex-students. Then they’ll have a chance to donate too.’
‘Hey, Sir, will you ever knock back any of our ideas?’
‘What do you mean?’ Mr Humble says.
‘So far, you’ve let us do anything we want,’ I say. ‘What if we wanted to have a zoo day and make the teachers wear animal suits?’
‘I bags being a rhino,’ Mr Humble says, pretending to headbutt me. ‘Whenever possible, I want to encourage you to make your own decisions and be responsible for them,’ he says. ‘Sometimes you’ll stuff up, and I’ll be there to help, but you learn from your mistakes.’
‘Is that how you became a leader?’ I ask.
‘It’s one of the ways, but we all find our own path,’ Mr Humble says. ‘I’m lucky that Mrs Burrows gave me a chance.’
‘You’ve done the same thing for me,’ I say. ‘Thanks, Sir.’
Mr Humble smiles. ‘And thank you for making my job here a bit easier, and a whole lot of fun.’
With just one more day until Footy Fan Day, everybody is pumped. Ally had the brilliant idea of selling tickets for the water balloons and they’ve just about all been snapped up.
Mr Humble bought us a few giant bags of octopus balloons with special hose attachments so you can fill up a hundred balloons in only a minute. Miss Saxena lets 6S help fill them up during class time, ready for the big fight tomorrow. There are two colours for the two sides, fluoro pink and neon green.
‘I can’t wait to splat someone with one of these bad boys,’ Zain says, carefully throwing a balloon up and down.
‘I suppose you’ll want to kick it at someone,’ Randa says.
‘Nah, it’d self-destruct on my best soccer boots.’
Bilal places his balloons carefully in one of the cleaned out wheelie bins that we’ve been given to store them in. ‘How do you come up with these crazy fundraisers?’
‘You can thank Georgia from 3T for this one,’ Randa says. ‘It was her idea.’
‘And thank Mr Humble too,’ I add, ‘for letting us do it.’
We fill up enough balloons for six wheelie bins and move them into the sports equipment shed. As I’m wheeling the last bin into the shed, Howard and Russell step out of the toilets nearby.
‘Hey, give us some water balloons?’ Howard says.
I step in front of the bin. ‘Sorry, guys, these are for tomorrow’s fight. Ally might still have a few tickets if you haven’t bought some.’
‘When are you going to stop trying so hard,’ Russell says.
‘Maybe when you guys decide to be on our side?’ I say, surprising myself.
‘Why should we? You’re all rabbiting on just like Mr Crumble. New leaders. Fresh start. What a load of rubbish,’ Russell says. ‘Things will always be the same here.’
I stare straight at Russell. ‘Maybe that’s how your brothers felt, but I’m fighting hard for Barryjong.’
Russell snorts. ‘Well, it’s going to be great entertainment watching you prefects fail,’ he says as he walks off with Howard.
Zain’s right, maybe some bullymons can’t be tamed. But I won’t let a few rotten apples spoil what we’ve done so far.
‘What are you going to wear tomorrow?’ I ask Gina as we walk home from school.
‘My unicorn horn,’ Gina says.
‘It’s not a unicorn fan day,’ I say.
‘Every day is a unicorn fan day.’ Gina skips around me. ‘How about you, big bruh?’
‘I’ll just wear my purple shirt with the Wizards mascot,’ I say. I had hoped the sports store at the shopping centre might have a sale on their jerseys, but I checked and they’re still full price.
Mr Lee walks towards us with his dog, Spot, on a lead. ‘You guys are famous!’ he says.
‘What do you mean?’ I say.
Mr Lee opens up the local newspaper, the Chronicle. ‘Look, it says “Barryjong Primary Reunion Helps Fundraiser”.’
I take a look at the article. ‘They’ve interviewed my principal.’
‘Yes, he says it’s all part of your Footy Fan Day to raise money for air conditioning. Great idea.’ Mr Lee says. ‘Do you think I could come along?’
‘Sure, we’re having a sausage sizzle at lunchtime,’ I say. ‘You’d have to leave Spot at home though.’
Spot yaps at Mr Lee’s ankles, as if he heard me.
‘That’s okay. Spot would send me broke if I brought him anyway,’ Mr Lee says, chuckling as he gives his tiny dog a pat. ‘He’s got the appetite of a wolf!’
We hurry home and I grab the Chronicle from our letterbox to read the article.
‘The prefects have organised this day by themselves,’ Mr Humble is quoted as saying. ‘The future of this school is bright, thanks to these creative leaders.’
I cut out the article and stick it next to the leadership tips on the wall in my room. Mum sticks her head in. ‘News does travel fast around here.’
‘Ah, sorry, Mum,’ I say.
Mum waves around her own copy. ‘I went past the library to pick up two more. One for me, and one for Auntie Angelica.’ She nudges me. ‘It’s time the Bulanhaguis showed off a little, don’t you think?’
‘Maybe we should wait until after the Footy Fan Day, just in case,’ I say cautiously, thinking about the cake stall epic fail.
‘We have close to thirty-five ex-students paying to come to the morning tea reunion,’ Mum says. ‘The P and C are going to organise the whole thing in the hall.’
‘Are you going too?’ I say.
‘Of course,’ Mum says. ‘Someone needs to make sure there’s no food fights.’
Just then Dad comes in with his hands behind his back. ‘Hey Raymond, do you need to be cool?’
‘Why?’ I ask suspiciously. ‘You didn’t chuck my undies in the freezer, did you?’ I say.
With a flourish, Dad reveals a new Wizards jersey.
I leap up and let out a bit whoop. ‘But these jerseys are so expensive,’ I say, looking at the official shiny label. ‘We’re meant to be saving for our air con at home.’
‘This is an early birthday present from us and Auntie Angelica too,’ Mum says. ‘We thought a prefect should look his best on a special occasion.’
I give Mum and Dad a massive hug.
I hear a buzz and Mum pulls her phone from her pocket. ‘That was Mrs Carney from the P and C. She’s wondering if I have any tablecloths for tomorrow’s morning tea.’
‘Mrs Carney?’ I say. ‘Is that Russell’s mother?’
Mum nods. ‘Yes, are you two friends?’
‘Um … I don’t know him that well,’ I say, skirting around the truth.
It’s good to know that someone from Russell’s family still believes in Barryjong Primary.
I get up extra early the next morning and head to Gina’s room.
‘Come on, Gina, time to wake …’
Gina’s sitting at her desk, in her purple Wizards shirt and with her gold unicorn horn on her head. ‘Hey, big bruh.’
‘Wow, you’re up before me,’ I say.
‘I couldn’t sleep. Today’s going to be so much fun!’ She charges at my stomach and I grab her in a wrestle. ‘Did you know some unicorns are purple?’ she says, giggling.
I laugh. ‘They must be the Western Wizards magical supporters.’
‘Hurry up and have breakfast.’ Gina slaps my back.
Gina and I walk out of our house, following the trail of purple and white kids to the school. It feels like we’re going to a soccer match and Barryjong is the home ground. Nearly everyone is in a sports shirt or jersey. There are a few rugby and basketball jerseys too. It’s thrilling to see everyone out of our drab green uniform for once.
Ally and her friends are already doing some face painting near the kindy area. There are a lot of kids with purple stars on their cheeks or around their eyes. Randa’s waiting in the queue. She’s in a sparkly purple and white hijab.
‘Wow,’ she says. ‘You’ve got a jersey!
’
‘Yeah, early B-day pressie,’ I say.
‘Now we can be Wizards brothers,’ Zain says.
His face looks like it’s been half dipped in purple and half in gold. He’s also decked in Wizards gear from top to bottom. ‘Come on, come get your face painted too.’
‘Yeah, then we really can be brothers.’ I wait behind Randa.
Ally stands up and waves at us. ‘You can skip the queue prefects!’
Randa and I sit down in front of Ally and her friend, Nicole.
Nicole washes her brush. ‘What would you like, Randa?’
‘Let me guess, a panda?’ Ally says.
Randa rolls her eyes. ‘Now you’re just In-Zain, Ally,’ she says. ‘How about a few stars on my cheeks?’
Nicole gets to work. Ally stares straight into my eyes. ‘And you, Raymond?’
I feel my forehead becoming a sweaty waterfall. ‘Um, just like what you did to Zain.’
‘Okey-dokey,’ Ally says. She starts with the purple paint on my left side. I think she’d better put on two coats of paint to hide my rosy cheeks.
A few minutes later, Ally shows me the mirror. ‘What do you think?’
I turn my face to the side and smile. ‘It’s another masterpiece!’
After morning assembly, I spot a purple van out the front and Zain screams. ‘They’re here!’
Zain and I run to the van. Three Wizards players step out with giant kitbags. Zain scans them like he’s a cyborg. ‘I don’t know any of them,’ he whispers.
‘Maybe they’re reserves,’ I say in his ear.
‘They’re more like a stand-in for a reserve,’ Zain says. ‘Or they could be fakes.’
Randa steps forward. ‘Welcome to Barryjong Primary.’
‘Thanks.’ A lanky young player is holding a kitbag. ‘I’m Aleks Milovic, and the other two are Yolin Wu and Ian Landow.’
‘Hi, I’m Zain. Do you play in the main side?’ Zain says.
‘We play in the youth team,’ Yolin says.
‘Where’s Michael Kola? Was he busy?’ Zain asks.
Yolin laughs. ‘Yeah, he’s got a lot on his plate before the big game on Sunday.’
Ian steps forward to shake Zain’s hand. ‘Thanks for inviting us to Barryjong.’
Natural Born Loser Page 11
