‘That’s okay.’ Zain lets the players pass him. He hides behind me. ‘The kids are going to kill us. We promised them some star players. Poor little Felix thinks Michael Kola’s going to be here.’
‘It’ll be okay,’ Ally says.
‘I feel ripped off,’ Zain says. ‘They’re just a bunch of nobodies.’
‘Hey, we were nobodies,’ I say. ‘And look what we’ve achieved so far.’
Zain zips his lips and walks into the office, with his head down. He’s in the running for the most disappointed Wizards fan. I hope nobody else joins him.
Aleks, Yolin and Ian bring out a whole bunch of portable goals, brand new soccer balls and fancy training equipment for the soccer clinic. Zain and I help them set up the traffic cones around the oval.
The first group of infants come along and they’re so hyped. The Wizards players get the kids to burn all of their energy on the field, doing some soccer drills. Zain edges closer to the players as they offer their tips to the kids.
They finish up the clinic with a quick game with the infants. Aleks passes the ball to Felix and he scores a goal. Felix screams, runs around in circles, then slaps Aleks on the back. ‘You’re my favourite player now.’
‘He doesn’t care that Michael Kola isn’t here,’ Zain says.
The next soccer clinic is with the older grades. Bilal comes over to Zain. ‘Who are these guys?’
Zain doesn’t say anything. We join in this next clinic with the other kids. The Wizards players takes us through some more advanced drills than the infants. I’m practising my shooting skills with Ian, who gives me a few pointers. Zain’s absorbed in each of the exercises, trying to concentrate and drinking in each word from the players.
I’m pumped for the mini-match with the players. Zain tries his best to steal the ball from Yolin but he can’t even get close to him. It’s like Yolin has the ball on remote control, letting it zip between his feet.
Zain stands there, stunned. ‘These guys are freaks.’
We finish up with a competition. ‘Whoever can keep the ball in the air longer than me gets a prize,’ Ian says.
A few kids get some soccer balls and Yolin blows the whistle. In less than a minute, there’s only Zain and Ian left. Ian’s tapping the ball back and forth like it’s a yo-yo, occasionally letting his knees get in on the action.
‘Come on, Zain,’ I chant. ‘Zain, Zain, Zain …’ All the other kids join in.
‘It’s almost four minutes now,’ Yolin says.
Zain taps the ball into his knee and it lands on the ground. ‘Ah, man!’
Ian stops and claps. ‘Wow, you’re the first guy to keep up with me for that long.’
Zain smiles. ‘I let you win, you know.’
Ian winks at him. ‘Thanks for making me look good.’ He fetches something from his backpack. It’s a kitbag with a towel and drink bottle. ‘This is for you!’
Zain howls and starts dancing on the spot. He’s the first in line to get the players signatures on his jersey. ‘These guys are going to be future superstars.’
After the clinic, Mr Sanders takes a whole lot of photos of the kids with the Wizards players. Aleks walks over to us. ‘How about a photo with the leadership team.’
‘Leadership team?’ I say.
‘Yeah, all three of us are leaders in our youth side,’ Ian says. ‘We take turns being captain in our games.’
Zain’s beaming. ‘Just wait until my brother hears that.’
We have a few photos taken with the Wizards players and then Randa makes an informal thank you speech.
‘This has been the best school I’ve been to so far,’ Aleks says as they head back to their van. ‘You kids are so hyped for soccer.’
‘We’re crazy for any sport, not just soccer,’ Zain says.
‘We’re just crazy, full stop.’ Randa hits Zain on the back. ‘Bring on the water balloon fight.’
Zain and I look at each other. ‘We better set that up next, it’s meant to start at 12:30pm,’ Zain says. ‘Let drop off my kitbag at class first.’
We walk down to the sports shed. Zain’s admiring the signatures on his jersey. ‘Ian’s the next Michael Kola, I’m calling it now.’
I notice some water spreading out from under the roller doors.
‘Oh no!’ I say, running over and quickly pulling up the door.
Four of the wheelie bins have been tipped over and there’s broken or empty balloons everywhere on the floor, floating in big pools of water.
‘What could have happened?’ I say. ‘Could it be possums or rats?’
Zain looks at the holes in the garbage bags. ‘Yeah, disgusting rats wearing footy boots.’
‘Russell!’ I say. There’s no point trying to catch them now. ‘Mr Humble had heaps of leftover balloons.’ I look at my watch. ‘We still have time to fill them.’
I rush over to Randa and Ally, asking them to help. ‘Let’s spilt up and refill the unbroken balloons in the toilets.’
‘And I’ll try the outdoor tap,’ Zain says.
I grab a bunch of balloons and run into the toilets. I turn on the tap and fill two balloons, but the tap’s water flow turns into a dribble, before it goes bone dry. I try all the taps and nothing comes out.
I turn around and Russell Carney is standing behind me. He’s wearing his Barryjong Bears touch footy jersey and holding a wrench. ‘I was surprised you prefects got this far, even my mates were hyped up for this stupid day. So Howard and I just had to do something.’
The filled water balloons dangle from my hand and I have to resist swinging them at Russell in frustration. ‘What have you got against prefects and this school?’
‘I’m just doing what my brothers did,’ Russell says, waving the heavy wrench in my direction.
I step back. ‘You don’t have to be a mindless follower.’
‘My whole family hates Barryjong,’ Russell yells. ‘Your mum doesn’t.’
‘My mum?’ Russell lowers his head and points his shoulder towards me, like he’s ready to charge. ‘She doesn’t want anything to do with this place.’
I take a deep breath. It’s time for another dare. ‘Sorry, Carn-age. I know you don’t want to be a part of this day. But I have no choice.’ I chuck one water balloon at his face. It shatters on his cheek and I dash past him. He swings his wrench but it hits the sink.
I run across the playground and bump into Zain.
‘The outdoor’s tap been busted,’ Zain says.
‘Yeah and I know why …’ I say. ‘Do you trust me?’
Zain nods. ‘But why is Russell after you?’
‘Just follow my lead.’ I turn around and chuck my other balloon at Russell. It misses by a long shot, but Zain chucks his lucky hacky sack and it hits him in his face. He flinches and it slows him down for a second.
‘Nice shot,’ I say.
‘Now what?’ Zain says.
‘I dare you to run.’ I head towards the hall and Zain’s running beside me.
Russell picks up speed, and I can hear him gaining on me. I’m about to be run over by a monster truck.
‘Hey, Carn-age,’ Randa yells. She throws a piece of banana bread. ‘If you’re going to pick on him, you need to go through all four of us.’
Ally joins us. ‘Sorry, I have nothing to throw.’
‘It’s okay,’ I whisper. ‘We just need to lead him to the hall.’
Ally waves her hands in the air. ‘Hey, you giant oaf, think you’re so good, huh?’
‘I said make him come to the hall, not make him angrier,’ I say.
Russell closes his fists and his head turns into a nuclear missile. ‘Just wait until I get my hands on you, Raymond.’
He’s finally stopped calling me Nobody. I don’t have any time to celebrate though as I lead the prefects towards the hall. We burst through the doors and almost land on top of a pile of cakes and treats. Russell follows us in. ‘You’re all dead meat, prefects.’
‘Russell!’ Mrs Carney is standing there wit
h Mr Humble.
Russell quickly stands up straight. ‘Mum! What are you doing here?’
‘Your mother is here to help,’ Mr Humble says. Russell tucks his head down into his neck. ‘What? Mum?’
‘I made some good friends and had some really great teachers when I went to school here,’ Mrs Carney says. ‘It’s time to give something back.’
The anger drains from Russell’s face and his shoulders slump. He stumbles over to Mr Humble. ‘Sir, I need to tell you something.’
Mr Humble gently directs him outside.
I’m still desperately trying to get my breath back, bent over, with my head between my knees.
Charlotte comes over. ‘Hello, prefects,’ she says. ‘Been playing a bit of sport?’
‘Yeah … we just … had a game of … tips,’ Randa says between breaths.
Mr Humble walks in and pulls the prefects aside. ‘Russell’s told me everything. Have we got any water balloons left?’
‘Not enough.’ Zain flings the water balloons on the ground. ‘If the school doesn’t have any water, how can we have our water fight?’
‘Maybe we can go to the houses nearby,’ Ally says.
‘That’s it!’ I say. ‘I can get my cousin Kayla to help us at her school.’
‘Good idea, it’s only a ten-minute drive.’ Mr Humble fishes his car keys out of his pocket. ‘But I can only take two of you, we’ll need the extra room for balloons.’
Zain nudges me. ‘You and Randa go. Ally and I will start setting up the field.’
‘You sure?’ Randa asks.
Zain nods and Ally pats Randa on the back. ‘Go and save our water balloon fight!’
We hop into Mr Humble’s beast. ‘I’ve called Mrs Burrows to warn her about what’s going on,’ he says.
Mr Humble drops Randa and me at the front gate of Harrington Heights Primary while he finds a park. I run into the office, flashing my prefect badge like I’m a secret agent.
‘Could we speak to Mrs Burrows?’
Mrs Burrows comes out. ‘Harold, I mean Mr Humble has told me everything.’
‘Can Kayla and Mohammed come and help us?’ I say.
‘Absoutely!’ Mrs Burrows calls for Kayla and Mohammed to come.
I fill them both in about our plans.
Kayla snaps her fingers. ‘We can get our whole class to help us.’
‘We need to get this done quickly,’ Ally says. ‘Our water balloon fight is supposed to start in half an hour.’
‘Water balloon fight?’ Mohammed checks out our jerseys. ‘First the dareathon and now this? I wish our school had this much fun too.’
Kayla pinches Mohammed on the arm. ‘Shhh, don’t say that.’
Kayla’s class comes out and we fill up the rest of our balloons. Mrs Burrows has a bunch of garbage bags to put them in. ‘Sorry, we don’t have any bins or buckets,’ she says.
‘That’s okay, it’ll be easier to carry into Mr Humble’s four-wheel drive,’ Randa says.
Kayla’s a dynamo with the balloons. She’s filling balloons like she’s an octopus, doing the job of four kids.
‘Thanks for helping us out,’ I say. ‘You must think I’m a terrible leader.’
Kayla drops the last of the balloons into a garbage bag. ‘It must have taken a lot of guts to ask us for help.’
‘I don’t care if you tease me all year,’ I say. ‘It’ll be worth it if our day is a success.’
Kayla shakes my hand. ‘You’re sounding like a really smart leader, just like me.’
‘I’m a leader with crazy ideas for my weird school,’ I say. ‘I’m nothing like you really.’ I smile at her. ‘No offence.’
‘None taken,’ she says, smiling back.
Mr Humble has driven through a special boomgate into the school grounds to where we’ve piled up the garbage bags. He opens up the back door of the beast and Randa and I carefully load the bulging bags into the boot.
‘Randa can nurse this small bag in the front,’ Mr Humble says. ‘And Raymond, we’ll put these last two bags in the back seat. You should just be able to fit in next to them,’ Mr Humble says.
We squeeze the garbage bags into the back seat and I look at the small space left for me. ‘But what if they pop?’
‘Then you will have washed my car seats,’ Mr Humble says.
When we get back to Barryjong, we unload the bags of water balloons and stack them to the side of the office. Mr Humble heads inside. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get the office ladies to guard them until it’s time.’
Randa high-fives me. ‘We didn’t lose a single balloon.’
‘Thanks, Randa,’ I say.
‘Thank your cousin, Kayla, too,’ Randa says. ‘Come on, let’s see how Zain and Ally are doing.’
It’s half an hour before lunch when we all head over to the field for the water balloon fight. Zain and I get changed into our old shirts, leaving our jerseys in class. Mr Humble has set up a mini soccer field. ‘You can only aim at the chest or lower – no faces,’ Mr Humble says. ‘You must stay in your side – no crossing the line into the middle zone or you’ll be out of there,’ he says.
I’m on the green team. Randa’s on the pink, wearing her goggles and a waterproof hijab, like she’s ready to go swimming.
‘You’re going down Randa Panda,’ I say.
Randa tilts her head. ‘Get ready for a drenching!’
Everybody starts with two water balloons each and then they can only reload with two at a time from the wheelie bins in the corners.
‘The driest team after five minutes wins. Ready …’
He blows the whistle and the skies suddenly turn neon pink and green. I aim my balloon at Randa, but I get splatted by a water balloon to my chest. It stings a little but it doesn’t stop me. I chuck a balloon at Randa and miss by a whisker. A lot of us are standing at the edge of the line. Good thing there’s a middle zone of about two metres, so kids aren’t getting smashed too hard. Khaled is a machine beside me, hitting every target. ‘This is a lot more fun than throwing cake,’ he says.
I get some more balloons, dodging some water missiles on the way. Our wheelie bin is already half empty. I feel a cold burst of water on my back. I grab two water balloons and zigzag my way back to the frontline.
I’m about to launch another volley when Mr Humble blows his whistle again. He looks carefully at each side. We’re all dripping wet. ‘It looks like the green side got soaked the most, so the pink team wins!’
Randa pumps her fist and jumps in the air. I’ve never seen her so hyped. She’s more of a grizzly bear than a panda right now.
‘Good win,’ I say and I wring water out of my shirt.
Randa picks some water balloon bits off her shirt. ‘Yeah, if water balloon fights ever become a proper sport, then I’ll be our star player.’
Another thirty kids come in for the next match. Zain’s on the pink side and Ally’s on the green team.
Zain calls out, ‘Let’s make it two from two, pinkies!’
I dry myself on the sidelines while I watch the water missiles fly back and forth. It’s like a war zone out there. Zain does a lot of damage, but somehow the green team gets more hits and are the winners.
Randa taps me on the shoulder. She’s holding a tiny bag of water balloons.
‘I’ve saved these for Mr Humble,’ she whispers. ‘We can’t have him missing out on all the fun.
‘Did Zain put you up to this?’
‘No, this is my idea. Zain’s not the only one who can do crazy stuff.’ Randa holds a balloon. ‘It’s a prefect’s perk.’
We grab Zain and Ally as they run off the field, and we all hide behind some kids on the sidelines. While the infants play their special match, Randa’s gives each of us a water balloon.
Mr Humble blows the whistle. ‘The pink team win overall, 2 games to 1!’
‘Prefects, attack!’ Zain yells.
We burst out of the lines and aim our deluge at Mr Humble’s chest. Mr Humble opens his mouth and cops a wate
r balloon to his beard. For a moment, everyone holds their breath before he breaks out into great bellows of laughter. All the kids crack up too. I reckon he’s officially the best principal ever.
Mr Humble grabs some tissues to wipe his face. ‘Time for one more comp,’ he says. ‘Let’s see who can pick up the most balloon bits off the ground. Winner gets a canteen voucher from me.’
All the kids crouch down to collect the balloon pieces.
‘Nice work, Sir,’ I say.
Mr Humble winks at me. ‘Well, you know Barryjong loves competitions.’
The lunch bell rings and my nose leads me to the sausage sizzle. A few parents are helping to cook, with Mr Bashir front and centre.
Randa runs up to him. ‘Dad, what are you doing here?’
‘I thought I’d stick around and help out.’ Mr Bashir rubs his belly. ‘I’m pretty mean on a barbecue.’
There are huge bags of fresh crusty bread rolls, donated by the bakery, and sizzling onions from the local grocers.
‘Our Barryjong school spirit is haunting the neighbourhood now,’ Ally says.
‘Yeah, except no one’s scared of our school any more.’
The Footy Fan Day finishes with the drawing of the giant raffle inside the hall. Everyone is pumped for the jersey. I stand with the other prefects, up the front with Mr Humble. His shirt is still soaked.
‘I’d like to thank Bashir’s Butchers, Barryjong Bakery and all the other shops who supported us today,’ he says. ‘Thanks as well to all the amazing parents and ex-students who have come along to help and support the school. And now it’s time to draw the winners of our raffle!’
Zain and I hold up the jersey. Everybody erupts into cheering and clapping. It’s nice to look at the audience without seeing Russell’s death stares. Mr Humble sent him home, along with Howard for the water balloon sabotage. He finally used up all of his nine lives and million chances today and will have to face up to his mum now too.
Randa digs into the barrel and pulls out a raffle ticket. ‘Blue ticket, D67’
There’s a hush around the school, before a loud shriek arises from the middle of Year Six. It’s Bilal. He rushes up to the stage, kissing his ticket.
‘All those tickets paid off,’ I say.
Natural Born Loser Page 12
