Jam Tops, the Fonz and the Pursuit of Cool

by Kris Lillyman

  Once Gordy and Daisy were suitably shod, the time came to make an attempt at standing up and immediately it became clear that this was no easy task. Both fell over a number of times as the evil rubber wheels, that were now firmly strapped and buckled onto their regular trainers, refused to remain stationary long enough for them to get their balance.

  Nevertheless, after several minutes of ‘Bambi’ like stumbling and much clinging onto the wall (in Gordy’s case) and onto Frazer (in Daisy’s), they eventually made it out of the changing area and into the actual roller-disco.

  Dave Dunn’s disco lights were flashing red, green, yellow and blue in the otherwise darkened hall - which was hardly the ‘Dynamite’ that the sign on the front of Dave’s decks promised but it was marginally better than nothing at all. Furthermore, the music was blaring so loudly that Gordy, Daisy and Frazer could barely hear each other speaking as what seemed like hundreds of teenagers sped around in a large circle as if it was rush hour in Piccadilly. Some were clearly novices and were tottering about just trying to stay on their feet, whilst others, like Frazer, were experts who were bombing around at twice the speed of everyone else.

  Gordy and Daisy were clinging onto each other for dear life as Frazer sped off to do a few circuits, saying that he’d be ‘back in a bit!’ leaving them floundering by the door alone.

  Then, as Dave Dunn seamlessly segwayed from A Taste of Honey’s Boogie Oogie Oogie and into Sylvester’s You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real), Steve Cool and Pippa Wilson skated into view.

  For a moment both Gordy and Daisy were in shock as the objects of their affections floated by in what seemed to be slow-motion.

  Gordy gazed longingly at Pippa who was in a tight fitting T-shirt and jeans, her ample boobs pushed out proudly in front of her and her shiny blonde hair glistening in the disco lights as it flowed out behind her. She was wearing a pair of white leather pro-skates with pink wheels and lime green stoppers and was holding Steve Cool’s hand as he effortlessly skated backwards beside her on his black leather pro-skates (with yellow wheels and red stoppers). His hair was black, quiffed and immaculate and looked absolutely nothing like Gordy’s cheap imitation feather-cut; his Levis were tight, too, but certainly not as tight as Gordy’s (which were more like actual tights - only blue and made of denim), and he inevitably looked cooler than bloody cool.

  “Flash bastard!” Gordy thought and was busily grimacing jealously when Pippa glanced over at him and smiled.

  “Hi Geoff!” she mouthed, giving him a friendly little wave, before glancing down at his skin tight Levis and looking a little shocked. But Gordy didn’t notice the shock on her face, just that she had smiled and remembered his name (actually, it wasn’t technically his name but Gordy was now seriously thinking of changing it to ‘Geoff’ by deed poll). Immensely happy that he had been recognised by the love of his life, Gordy threw up his hand and waved back (almost falling arse over tit as a result of the sudden movement).

  “Hi Pippa!” He yelled, waving madly, but Pippa had already gone by so didn’t see him. However, Steve Cool, still skating backwards (just because he could) on his super-duper skates, did see, and a vindictive little grin appeared on his handsome, cooler than cool face. But Gordy didn’t notice as his focus was still on Pippa’s pert butt as it fast disappeared into the disco throng.

  Meanwhile, Daisy had ducked her head down and was skulking behind Gordy trying desperately hard not to be noticed by Steve Cool for fear of him seeing her as she presently was; bobble-hatted, boobless and baggy. But it was too late as he had already seen her and was busily planning his next move.

  As Gordy squinted through the migraine inducing flashing lights into the crowd, trying to get another glimpse of Pippa as she skated round the huge wooden floor of the hall, he spotted someone he was really, really, really hoping to avoid.

  Kev.

  Standing on the far side of the hall, leaning against the wall with his mates, Dave and Pete, was Gordy’s brother who, in turn, had just clocked Gordy, on the other side of the room, wearing his T-Rex T-shirt. Kev’s face said it all; there really wasn’t any need for him to shake his fist menacingly at Gordy indicating the beating he was shortly about to receive because Gordy already knew, but he shook it anyway and suddenly Gordy felt an overwhelming desire to poo. However, he resisted the urge as Kev and his cohorts tried to reach him through the stream of fast moving bodies circumnavigating the room. Kev and his gang were not wearing skates - because they thought themselves too ‘hard’ for all that ‘childish shit’ and were only really there to ogle the girls.

  Nevertheless, rather than wait for his inevitable beating, Gordy instead opted to turn tail and run - or he would have done had he, himself, not been wearing a pair of very uncooperative roller skates.

  In a bid to make an escape, he turned and temporarily abandoned an extremely unsteady Daisy, who was finding it even harder than Gordy to stay upright on the pesky little rubber wheels. But try as he might, Gordy just couldn’t get further than a few feet away. He was running on the spot, the wheels of his skates offering no purchase whatsoever as he tried fruitlessly to propel himself away from Kev. He was getting absolutely nowhere and tried harder and harder to get moving but it just wasn’t happening at all; his legs peddling frantically and his arms pumping back and forth as if trying to win the hundred metre sprint without covering any ground at all.

  As utter desperation set in along with the realisation that he was about to be on the receiving end of a damn good thumping, someone suddenly stepped in his way. For a moment Gordy thought it was Kev but then he noticed that the person in front of him was wearing wellington boots and a skin tight PVC bomber jacket. Gordy then looked at the person’s face and for a moment didn’t recognise who it was under the bright red crash helmet, especially as his eyes were still being dazzled by Dave Dunn’s dastardly disco lights.

  “Heyyyyyy!” Said the person in the crash helmet and for a second Gordy stopped struggling as he stared into his friend’s face.

  “Trevor?” He said, not quite believing what he was seeing.

  “Heyyyyyy!” Wailed Trevor again, sounding much more like an air raid siren than the coolest man on telly.

  “What?” Gordy was truly befuddled. Was this a dream?

  “I’m The Fo―” Trevor was saying before getting cut-off by a shriek from Daisy.

  Somehow, grabbing hold of Trevor for support, Gordy managed to turn, expecting to see his brother bearing down on him all guns blazing but instead saw Steve Cool as he plucked the bobble hat from Daisy’s head and hold it aloft victoriously as he sailed past majestically on his super snazzy skates with Pippa trailing in his wake looking angrily on.

  With all thoughts of Kev expelled from his mind, Gordy, using Trevor as a pushing-off platform, sped in a gangling, ungainly way over to Daisy who was absolutely mortified by what had just happened.

  Standing there alone, she looked so small, so tiny; her hair cropped like a boy’s. Tears were flooding her eyes and streaming down her face as she wobbled uneasily on the skates. Then, thoroughly embarrassed by her appearance, she clamped both arms over her head to prevent anyone from seeing what she perceived to be her ‘ugliness’.

  “Help me, Gordy, please! Get me out of here!” She cried in utter despair. But, desperate as he was to do as she’d asked, he couldn’t make his legs cooperate. He was nearly to her, just a foot or two away when Steve Cool came round again, still holding Daisy’s hat high in the air whilst pointing at her badly butchered barnet and laughing cruelly at her.

  “Hey, Hair Bear!” He shouted unkindly, “What’s happened - have you turned lezzie or something?”

  Gordy was suddenly more angry than he’d ever been in his life and as Steve Cool glided past him, he leapt up and snatched the hat out of his hand and tossed it back to a very grateful Daisy who immediately pulled it back on her head, incredibly touched by Gordy’s heroism .

  H
owever, as he landed, Gordy’s feet slipped out from under him and as his left leg went one way and his right leg went the other, his newly bought, newly taken-in jeans burst at the seams, splitting from nut sack to arse crack and down both inner thighs - completely ruined; so much for his extortionately priced Levi 501s.

  Frazer, meanwhile, who had been behind Dave Dunn’s decks hunting for the glimmer of any punk rock that might be hidden amongst the disco dross of Dave’s dire record collection, had looked up from his search and over at Daisy and Gordy just at the precise moment of Steve Cool’s second pass. Before Gordy had hit the ground, Frazer had jumped out from behind the decks and was hurtling like a cannonball over to where Daisy was crying, convinced that people would now think of her as something akin to John Merrick in The Elephant Man.

  Steve Cool, though, did not take lightly to lowly nerds spoiling his fun, and had skidded to a halt on his fancy red stoppers, momentarily shocked by Gordy’s outrageous audacity. How dare someone as insignificant as him even think about doing that?

  “Hey, fat boy! Who the fuck do you think you are?” He yelled at Gordy.

  Pippa, by now, had caught up with her boyfriend, but was looking less than pleased, her face like thunder. “Leave him alone, Steve - don’t be a bully - and he’s not fat!”

  “Fuck off, Pip - it’s got nothing to do with you!” Replied Steve Cool, before angrily pushing her away and heading back to where Gordy lay.

  “Please, don’t Steve!” Pleaded Pippa, but he didn’t listen.

  Trevor, still a little confused as to what was actually happening, turned at this point to see Steve Cool bearing down on Gordy, clearly intent on hitting him. Without thinking, Trevor stepped into his path and said, “Oi, leave him alone!

  Steve Cool, stopped and looked Trevor up and down, taking in the wellies and the brushed denim jeans, the bomber jacket and the crash helmet. Then he laughed derisively, “And who the fuck are you, a fuckin’ garden gnome?” he sneered.

  “No. I’m The Fonz, stupid.” Said Trevor. At which point, Steve Cool went to punch him full in the face. But, cool as a cucumber, Trevor just lowered his head and Steve Cool’s fist connected hard with the crash helmet instead. Even over the din of Sylvester, who was still wailing on incessantly about how ‘You Make Me Feel’, the loud crack could be heard as two of Steve Cool’s fingers broke.

  As Steve Cool hopped around in agony, Frazer steamed into view and slid to an expertly precise stop beside Daisy, immediately wrapping his big protective arms around her. Daisy threw her arms around him, too, and wept uncontrollably in his bear-like grip. “It’s okay, Daisy,” Frazer said, “I’ve got you. Everything’s okay. Don’t worry.”

  Meanwhile Gordy, looking on, felt a pang of something strange deep down in his gut. Was it jealousy? He wondered briefly, confused by this unexpected emotion as he finally managed to clamber to his feet.

  Gordy had quite forgotten about Kev in the ensuing melee and was now more concerned about his barely concealed gonads, with his brand new jeans now in tatters and his white Y-fronts clearly visible to anyone who cared to look.

  But then his imminent thumping quickly returned to the forefront of his mind when a hand grabbed him by the throat and slammed him hard up against the wall.

  As his legs dangled in mid-air, Gordy found himself nose to nose with his brother, Kev, who was flanked by his Neanderthal buddies, Dave and Pete.

  “That’s my fucking shirt!’ Snarled Kev.

  Somewhere in the background, through Sylvester’s high-pitched wailing, Gordy was certain that he heard Pippa’s voice yelling at Steve Cool, telling him that he was ‘dumped’. But instead of rejoicing and letting his heart fill with joy, Gordy instead had to brace himself for impact as Kev pulled back his fist and prepared to punch him.

  Gordy could do nothing but shut his eyes, wince and await the inevitable. But then, suddenly, miraculously, he was released from Kev’s vice-like grip and plummeting sharply down the wall to the floor where he found himself, once again, back on his backside with a very hard bump.

  Slightly dazed, he looked up to see that it was Kev who was now being pinned against the wall by Frazer. “Leave him!” Was all Frazer said, extremely firmly, and Kev, although no shrinking violet himself, thought it wise, in light of this sudden change of circumstances to do just that. He nodded his agreement and Frazer slowly released him.

  Gordy couldn’t believe it as he saw his brother slinking meekly off, pursued by Dave and Pete.

  However, Gordy was still not in the clear, as Steve Cool, enraged, dumped and humiliated was circling for yet another attack (much like Jaws did with Quint’s boat even though he was weighed down by barrels). This time though, Steve Cool wouldn’t be caught off guard by Trevor, who for some strange reason was dressed like a deranged Evel Knievel. Ignoring Pippa’s pleas to “Just get lost!” Steve Cool lunged towards Gordy, who was still laying, Y-fronts out, on the dusty wooden floor.

  Again, Trevor selflessly tried to block his way, but Steve Cool was ready and shouldered him roughly out of the way. “Move it, freak!” He growled, bowling Trevor over and causing his wellies to squeak loudly on the floor as he fell.

  “Gordy, watch out!” Yelled both Daisy and Pippa in unison as Steve Cool careered towards him.

  But Frazer had it covered. The big, scary, punk rocker just turned, wedged the green stoppers of his pro-skates down onto the faded parquet floor and head-butted Steve Cool right on the nose. “Not today, you poncey, arrogant twat!” He said, as Steve Cool hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, out cold.

  Calm as you like, Frazer then walked over to Daisy and put his arms around her once more.

  The next thing Gordy knew, Pippa Wilson was kneeling beside him, her boobs very nearly touching his face. “Are you alright, Gordy?” She asked, for the first time using his given name, taking his head in her hands and clutching it dramatically (and most welcomingly as far as Gordy was concerned) to her breast.

  “Yes”, he said, “I am now”, desperately hoping that the semi forming rapidly in his Y-fronts wasn’t too noticeable through the large split in his trousers.

  “I’m so sorry, Gordy. I really am - about Steve I mean, he’s such a bully”.

  ‘And not so bloody cool after all’ thought Gordy, but all he said was, “That’s okay”.

  Pippa looked down at him and smiled.

  “Hey, you called me ‘Gordy’?” He said, looking up into her big blue eyes and sounding slightly astonished.

  “Well that’s your name, isn’t it?” She said innocently.

  “I dunno,” said Gordy, grinning cheekily, “I was just starting to get used to ‘Geoff’”.

  And she laughed.

  Then the lights came on, the music stopped and they all got thrown out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Things were different after that. Immediately.

  Suddenly, almost as if at the flick of the light being switched on in the roller-disco, everything changed.

  Now, standing outside the Drill Hall in the fading daylight of the balmy August evening, Gordy watched streams of disappointed and angry teenagers walk past him as they grudgingly vacated the hastily cancelled roller-disco. Almost all giving him very black looks and blaming him for having their fun so cruelly curtailed. “Knob!” One muttered under their breath. “Twat!” Said another.

  Gordy considered this to be a little unfair in the circumstances and thought that, in truth, it was Steve bloody Cool who should shoulder most of the blame, as well as Kev, for his part in the whole sordid affair - but neither of them were still around to be held accountable and had, probably very sensibly, legged it.

  Gordy suddenly felt like ‘Public Enemy Number One’ as he rather guilty watched Dave Dunn reversing his bright yellow Discomobile (which was in reality just a rusty second-hand Ford Bedford) up to the wide double doors at the side of the Drill Hall in order to load
his disco equipment.

  The roller-disco had been a complete and utter disaster from start to (very early) finish.

  This, the third seriously bad thing to happen in the month of August, had been responsible for the following:

  1. Gordy being (almost) beaten up by Kev

  2. Gordy being (almost) beaten up by Steve bloody Cool

  3. Gordy (almost) displaying his nuts to all on sundry

  4. Gordy being extremely humiliated in front of the aforementioned all on sundry

  5. Gordy becoming ‘Public Enemy Number One’ in the collective opinions of said all on sundry

  6. Gordy being the reason for Dave Dunn’s Disco Dynamite being stopped early and Dave Dunn’s subsequent dejected departure from the Drill Hall in the Discomobile

  7. Daisy being sheared like a prize ewe at an Australian sheep station (her mythical Golden Fleece of legend now hanging in Madge’s trophy room, probably being sought after at this very moment by a ship full of modern day Argonauts

  8. Daisy being ridiculed and humiliated by that bastard Steve bloody Cool - the very person she was dearly hoping to impress

  9. Daisy, in her opinion but not in Gordy’s, being ridiculed and humiliated by the now notoriously judgemental all on sundry

  10. Daisy losing any chance she might have had (no matter how unlikely) of ever going out with Steve bloody Cool.

  So all in all, the roller-disco; the third bad thing, had proved to be an absolute shitter.

  There was, however, two other factors that had made the whole sorry abortion of a night worthwhile:

  1. Pippa Wilson had remembered his name

  And

  2. She had at last dumped Steve Cool

  And for those two things alone, Gordy couldn’t be happier.

  ***

  As Gordy stood reflecting on these last two factors, a dumb grin appeared on his contented face. Then, with Daisy’s snorkel parka tied around his waist to conceal his modesty, he heard a familiar voice behind him.