I Am Jack

by Susanne Gervay

  I had a big plate of chips, lots of coleslaw and a huge T-bone steak. Mum never lets me get T-bone steak. Usually I have lamb chops or sausages because it is cheaper. I don’t mind or anything, but it is great having T-bone steak. Samantha had a cottage cheese and pineapple salad because she copies everything Mum does, except she did have chips. Nanna had mashed potato, pumpkin and one sausage because of her teeth. She can’t eat chewy things even though she has new teeth.

  I’d hate to lose all my teeth, that’s why I brush them twice a day and sometimes three times. Samantha doesn’t. She’s going to be sorry when we go to the dentist.

  Rob took us to the cinema after dinner, which turned out to be really unfair because of Samantha. We had to see what SHE wanted. Rob always does that just because Samantha holds his hand and makes cards for him saying, ‘You’re the best Dad.’ Well, Rob isn’t our dad or even our step-dad yet. Mum’s still talking about him moving in full-time.

  I sort of want Rob to move in, but I don’t. I don’t need a dad, except sometimes I get tired of changing light bulbs. I don’t mean that really. It’s not the light bulbs. It’s just that it would be good having someone else, a grown-up helping Mum. Nanna does help, but she’s old. I don’t want her to be old. She needs me like Mum does. A dad would be something.

  George Hamel joked about Mum and said who’d be stupid enough to marry her. He said that in class when Mr Angelou couldn’t hear and had his back turned writing on the white board. Lots of people would marry Mum. Lots and lots of people would. I didn’t say that back to him. I should have. George Hamel said my real dad probably left because of me. That was the worst thing. I couldn’t speak.

  Anyway, I don’t know why today was great. We didn’t do much. I just worked on Mum’s car with Rob. We did a grease and oil change in the garage. Mum brought us cold drinks and said we looked like grease monkeys and then handed us two bananas. Mum’s funny. That’s where I think I get my great sense of humour.

  While we worked on the car, Samantha went off with Mum to the gym. Rob’s been helping out with money and Mum says she can now afford to pay for classes. Samantha wore exactly the same black shorts as Mum, the same blue T-shirt, the same white socks and joggers, the same hairband. I couldn’t help laughing. I was going to say something clever, but Rob kicked my leg and said, ‘DON’T.’ I wonder how he knew. It was only going to be a tiny joke. It wasn’t that bad.

  You look like twin plums going to the gym.

  There’ll be a lot of plum pudding wobbling around.

  That is pretty funny, isn’t it? I think I’ll use it the next time they go to exercises classes.

  For lunch, I helped Mum make tuna and tomato sandwiches and passionfruit cordial, and I carried out the picnic rug to the backyard. Samantha found the basketball. Rob brought out a fold-up chair and read the newspaper. Anna came over and we threw basketballs into the net. Mum played. She’s good at it because she used to play netball at school. Of course, Samantha’s playing netball at school too. I told you she copies Mum.

  Rob fell asleep in the fold-up chair and Mum fell asleep lying on the rug beside him. This was the photo opportunity of the year. I ran upstairs to get my camera before they woke up. I took the greatest photographs of Rob snoring with his mouth open and Mum next to him with her blonde hair fluffing in the wind and her purple socks rolled down to her ankles. You couldn’t see her underpants, but I know they were purple too.

  It’s late. I hit my bed cover down with a hammer-blow. I’ve got to concentrate on tomorrow. The start of another rotten week at school. I pull out the magazine I bought with the five dollars Nanna gave me. Karate: Self-Defence and You. Mum will be really angry if she knows about this but it is self-defence. I have to protect myself, Mum. I have to.

  Karate is the martial art of unarmed self-defence in which directed blows of the hands and feet, striking with lethal kicks and punches, accompanied by special breathing and shouts, are dealt.

  Speed, strength, technique, alertness, timing and use of surprise are essential to karate.

  I have done a few practice kicks, but it’s hard. I know I’ll be able to do it if I study the drawings. Hand chops, knuckle punches, hammer-blows, finger jabs, jumps, stamping kicks. I’m so tired. I’ll just read a bit more, a bit more, a bit…zzzzzzzzzzz

  Panic. The sun streams through my window. Samantha’s singing in the shower. Mum is making breakfast. Rob has already gone to work. Monday morning. My karate magazine slides off the bed. I can’t go to school. My head hurts, hurts, hurts.

  Mum is not interested in my headache. ‘Non-negotiable,’ she says. ‘School’s on.’

  It starts on the school bus. ‘Bum Head. Bum Head. Bum Head,’ echoes along the aisle as boys walk past. There are a few thumps on the way. George Hamel isn’t even on the bus. Anna isn’t either. She’s probably helping in the Napolis’ Super Delicioso Fruitologist Market. Samantha’s frightened and I force her to sit right at the back. She doesn’t want to. I make a mental note that I’ll get up early tomorrow and walk to school. How do I get off the bus when it stops? I can’t stand up now because I’ll get sandwiched between the guys in the aisle. That’s dangerous. Maybe I’ll finger jab one of them in the kidneys. Ohhh, my head really hurts. The bus jerks to a stop. I make a dash for the door, shoving as hard as I can. Suddenly there’s a big surge forward. I lose balance. I stumble down the bus steps trying to grab onto the sides. I half make it and land on my knees ripping a hole in my trousers. It stings, but I’m out and I run.

  There is no way I’m going through the school gates today. Then I see her. The librarian walking to the side gate. I race towards her and offer to carry her books. ‘That’s nice of you, Jack.’ She chats about good books to read, while my heart’s throbbing like an enormous blind pimple. The library is open every morning break, every lunchtime. ‘There’s always someone here to help you find a book. A librarian and an assistant.’ I stand close to her as she unlocks the library door. It’s like a revelation. Sunlight floods the big room with its shelves of books alphabetically ordered. Tables and chairs are neatly placed in the centre of the room. There’s an alcove with computers and another alcove with the photocopier and audiovisual tapes. Paper ducks flap from the ceiling and posters hang between shelves. A safe house. The throbbing subsides. I’ve found a place to hide. A safe place.

  I stay in the library until the bell and until the librarian says I’ve got to go to class. I wait until Mr Angelou flies in. Ha. Ha. Get it, flies in. Like an angel. Flies. I know I must be feeling a bit better if I can make a joke.

  Christopher pulls at my shirt as I go to my seat. He looks at his desk when he whispers: ‘Can’t play handball with you anymore, Jack. Paul can’t either.’

  I swallow hard but I understand. Maybe Christopher could stand up to George Hamel, but it’s everyone else. Even nice guys. It is like they don’t know I am Jack anymore. I’m the guy with the weird mother and no dad and the guy Mr Angelou puts on detention and I’m just Bum Head. Bum Head. ‘That’s okay, Christopher.’

  I eat my sandwiches running up the stairs to the library. You’re not allowed to eat in the library. There are a few ‘Bum Heads’ on the way, a few kicks, but it’s all right. I try to forget what is outside. I find some books on cars and borrow one.

  Last period. Swimming. ‘Get your sports bags,’ Mr Angelou shouts as we head to the community pool next to the school. I have my swimmers on under my trousers so I can strip quickly at the side of the pool. ‘Ten laps freestyle.’ I’ve got to be first in the water. Make a fast getaway from the rest of the class. My head is like a lava pit as I dive into the water. The chlorine stings my eyes because I’ve forgotten my goggles, but the water and swimming are a relief.

  Mr Angelou watches like an eagle as we all splash in order up and down the chlorine water. I can’t hear the kids. I go up and down, up and down by myself. I’ve got to think positive. I read that in the karate magazine. Positive. Don’t think about Bum Head. Photographs. I’ll think about photos
. I am going to take some of Jack’s Ponto. It is looking really interesting and Samantha has begged me to take some more photos of Puss. I want to do some of Nanna with Samantha and me. I’ll have to do a time delay and leave the camera on the kitchen table then run and sit with Samantha and Nanna to be in the photograph. Sometimes a horrible feeling grips my stomach—that Nanna is going to die soon. I’ve told Mum that, but she said Nanna wouldn’t leave us. Dad left though. Would Rob leave? I’m going to be sick.

  ‘Dressing rooms,’ Mr Angelou shouts. ‘You’ve got ten minutes.’ The showers. Should I go in first? Second? Last? Mr Angelou’s shouting at us to move in. ‘Hurry up.’ I head for the middle cubicle. The boys jam into the two other dressing cubicles and I can hear them throwing things and shouting. George Hamel’s voice echoes against the walls. I can’t help shuddering. Why do they hate me? I’m alone in the middle dressing room. My head’s throbbing. I get changed as quickly as I can. Panic. Don’t cry, Jack. Don’t. Nearly dressed. A white blob catapults over the partition and slides down it. Another blob hits my back. I don’t understand. Why? Why? Should I shout at them? Should I bang the wall? But there’s only me in here. What will I do? There’s jeering, ‘Bum Head,’ ‘Bum Head,’ then a hailstorm of spit and saliva. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. It’s so filthy. So disgusting. A big one lands on my shoe, splattering like egg white. I stare at my shoe. Suddenly I grab my stuff and race out of the dressing rooms.

  7 Anna Tells

  Nearly home. Samantha chatters. Anna walks quietly beside me. Mum blows a kiss from behind the supermarket window. Nearly home. Mr Napoli waves. Mrs Napoli gives me pistachio nuts for Mum. Nearly home. Up the stairs. One flight. Two flights. Three flights. I’m exhausted and only walk up one step at a time. Unlock the door. Mum’s left afternoon tea out for us. Green apples and two donuts. Nanna phones with news about her specials. More socks and underpants. Puss rubs against my leg. Rob’s car manual lies on the wobbly coffee table. Mum loves the wobbly coffee table and has put a piece of wood under the short leg so it doesn’t wobble. Home.

  Cramping eye spasms hammer my head. I bend over double with my hands around my head. Samantha drops her school bag. ‘Don’t be sick, Jack. Don’t be sick, Jack.’ She puts her arms around me.

  I lie on Samantha’s doona in her bedroom. She brings me lemonade. Puss curls up at the end of the bed. I close my eyes, but I’m not asleep. I listen to Samantha organize her things. Her CD plays quietly, thin Ted is leaning against the bed, her coloured pencils

  are laid out carefully. I hear her pick up her pencils to sketch, colour, draw and I feel safe. I doze off.

  I wake startled by Mum’s call. ‘Dinner. Hot and delicious. Roast chicken.’ I hate that feeling of being woken up when I’m not ready. My mind is still half asleep and woolly. No Rob. I’m glad he is not here tonight.

  Mum carves the chicken. She gives me the leg and some white meat, peas, baked potatoes, pumpkin and fresh salad. My favourite but not tonight. ‘I’m not hungry, Mum.’

  ‘Samantha told me. You’ve got a bad headache. Eat what you feel like, darling.’

  I nod while Mum pours out some lemonade for me.

  ‘How was school?’

  I want to tell Mum. I want to, but Samantha butts in and tells her all about her horrible sports teacher and her big project on pollution. I don’t feel angry at Samantha for butting in. The wool in my head is starting to leave.

  ‘And what happened at school for you, Jack?’

  Mum’s waiting. I touch my head trying to clear it. ‘Umm, I found a great book in the library on cars. Umm. I’m going to show Rob. Umm, the library is great. Umm. I’m going to look up some photographic books tomorrow at lunchtime.’

  ‘I’d like to talk to you about Rob.’ Mum hesitates. ‘Rob thinks you’re both terrific kids. You both are. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Mum tries to flatten her blonde hair. ‘You’ve never had a real father. I’d like him to be your dad.’

  ‘Step-dad,’ I correct Mum.

  ‘Well, yes.’

  I don’t feel like thinking about my real father. I don’t feel like talking about Rob. I don’t feel like talking. I don’t think I’m going to make it at school.

  ‘Does that mean you’ll be getting married, Mum?’

  ‘Maybe, Samantha.’

  ‘Can I be the flower girl?’

  Mum smiles. ‘Of course. You’ll be the most beautiful flower girl in the world and you’ll be ours’.

  ‘And what do you think, Jack?’

  I blink hard. I love Mum so much and I even love Rob, but I don’t know. We’ve worked things out so far. Mum, Samantha, me, with Nanna helping. Mum’s waiting for my answer. I want my home to be the same. Home. A safe place. Different to school. I’m a kid, Mum. I don’t know. ‘I want you to be happy Mum, that’s all.’

  The next few weeks at school are dangerous. Mr Angelou is angry at me because I’m late to class every day. He says I’m missing too much work. But I have to be late otherwise George Hamel will get me. I’ve written so many lines—I will not be late—that the last time I had to do them Mr Angelou said he would call in my parents. George Hamel shouted out. ‘Jack hasn’t got a dad.’ Everyone laughed and Mr Angelou told George Hamel off.

  The library is fantastic. There is just the problem of getting up there as fast as I can. The other day a kid took a swipe at me with his cricket bat. Luckily, Mum hasn’t noticed the bruise. The librarian likes me a lot and I help her to catalogue books. I’ve discovered a fantastic book on agricultural experiments. My Jack’s Ponto is sprouting the most amazing potato-onion shoots. Rob said I’m a genius. I’m not a genius at school, except at woodwork. My marks have gone down the toilet. I couldn’t believe that I failed the last maths test. I haven’t told Mum. She thinks I’m going to be a scientist one day.

  Christopher and Paul don’t even say hello anymore. Too risky, but Anna does. She had a huge argument with a girl who called me ‘Bum Head.’ Even the girls are calling me names now.

  Mum writes me a note saying that I’ve got a headache so I won’t have to go swimming. I walk to and from school now. ‘To get fit,’ I tell Mum. She thinks that is fantastic. Samantha walks with me because she wants to get fit too. She’s been going to the gym with Mum every Sunday, while Rob and I do stuff together. Rob’s fixing up his old bicycle for me. We got a new chain but it’s really hard to put on. I ask him about karate and he says he’ll show me a few moves later.

  Even Samantha has noticed that there is something wrong at school. Some of the kids in her class are telling her that I’m a Bum Head. She told them that they were idiots. Samantha’s not scared. What’s wrong with me? I’ve got to talk to Mum, but she’s so happy with Rob. No, no. I don’t want to upset her. Rob won’t understand. He’ll think I’m weak and pathetic.

  I’ve been practising my karate. I know I could take George Hamel on now, but there are so many others. I don’t know. I’ve nearly given up making jokes. I can’t think of anything funny these days.

  Friday afternoon at last. Anna is weird on the way home. ‘You know I wouldn’t have done it if there was any other way.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m your best friend, remember that.’

  Anna really is my best friend. ‘Do you want to go down to the beach tomorrow?’

  Anna nods.

  ‘Me too,’ Samantha says.

  We climb up the three flights of stairs. Afternoon tea. Mum has left us a custard pie each. I don’t feel like a custard pie and I love custard pies. We look up. Someone is opening the front door. ‘Nanna?’ I call out.

  No. It’s Mum. She is still wearing her navy blue supermarket uniform. Her hair is pushed down by the supermarket cap, but bits of blonde are sticking out of the sides. Samantha races up to hug her. Mum is never home early and she never comes in in her supermarket uniform.

  Rob arrives and he’s in his work clothes. Grey trousers and a short sleeved shirt. Rob is never home early and he ne
ver comes in his work clothes. Samantha runs into his arms and he swings her around. I half call out, ‘Hi’, then make a weak attempt at a joke. ‘We only need Nanna now.’

  Mum doesn’t laugh. She always laughs even at my crummiest jokes. There’s something in her eyes. They’re watering and she’s whispering. I can’t understand what she’s saying.

  ‘Is something wrong, Mum?’

  She stammers, ‘Anna told her parents everything. Everything. Mr Napoli spoke to me, Jack. Mr Napoli spoke to me, Jack. Mr Napoli…’ Mum walks up to me and puts her arms around me and starts to cry quietly. ‘You’re always so strong, Jack. You’re only a boy, but you’re so strong.’ Her hair is soft and the ends touch my face. I put my arms around her too. ‘I’m so sorry Jack. I should have known. I should have. Too involved with myself.’ She holds me tighter and her crying becomes sobs, sobs that make her chest heave so that she can hardly breathe. I start crying too. Sobbing like Mum. It’s like a flooding river. Rising sobs, overflowing the last months, drowning everything. Bum Head, escape into the library, spit on my back. Samantha snuggles next to me and then I feel Rob’s hand on my shoulder.

  8 Bright Yellow Sunflower

  There’s no school today for me. There’s no work today for Mum.

  I hear Mum on the phone. ‘I want to speak to the Principal.’

  Mum’s hair is flying in all directions.

  ‘Too busy is he? I’m too busy too, but we’re going to meet. I’ll be in his office in half an hour.’

  Mum’s face has gone splotchy.

  ‘Are you saying half an hour isn’t suitable? All right. When is suitable? In one hour? Two hours? Three hours? Or will I go directly to the Education Department?’

  The voice on the other end of the phone gets loud.

  ‘I WILL see the Principal. I will see him NOW. I trusted your school with my Jack. I trusted your school but it isn’t safe.’ Mum’s voice quivers. ‘Jack won’t be coming back.’