Living With Leanne

by Margaret Clark

  Mum’s starting to fall apart. She can’t eat, she can’t sleep. Every night I can hear her pacing up and down in her room. Steve’s been really good. He comes round most nights and mends leaky taps and stuff like that, helps me with my homework, sometimes brings steaks, other times phones up for pizzas and … the important thing, he doesn’t seem to be putting the hard word on Mum. He clears off every night about nine.

  Last Saturday he drove me down to Strapper Surfboards so I could do my part-time job while Mum sat home glued to the phone. Then he fixed the lawnmower and cut all the grass. He’s fixed the gutters. He started to sand the old paint off the walls on Sunday and I gave him a hand. And best of all, he’s a nice guy with a great sense of humour. I’m hoping he’s not just feeling sorry for Mum amd propping her up, and when Leanne lobs back in, he’s going to disappear. But I don’t think so. I know you’re not supposed to make snap judgements about people but then some people you’ve known for years (Cooja for one) can turn out to be weird, so … I think Steve’s a top guy and if he turns out to be a murderer or a maniac I’ll stick myself in a monastery because I’ll never be able to trust another human being again.

  I’m due to go to school. Still no news about Leanne and no more phone calls. Her lupins are just about hitting the roof—well, not quite, but I can’t wait to show them off. They’ve had to be headphoneless because they’re too tall and just listen to the Gunners full-on, but Mum’s been too miserable to notice.

  I bring them into the kitchen and show her.

  ‘Look.’

  Mum gazes at them and sighs.

  ‘Probably growing higher to get away from that awful noise you call music,’ she goes.

  First joke she’s made in weeks. She was hoping that Leanne’s lobbed in to see Dad in Noosa but the cops have tracked him down and he reckons he hasn’t spotted her. We just have to wait.

  ‘Hey,’ she says, ‘I forgot to tell you there was this bit in the paper about lupins. When they’re fed to rams their testicles grow bigger. Wonder if it works with humans?’

  I shrug and leave for school. Just outside the gate I stop. Lupins and big balls? Well … I break off the tops of a couple of the plants and chew them. They taste GROSS. Forget it. I’m a Stud human already.

  I get on the bus and cop all this flak about ‘me beans’ and ‘Bush Tucker Man’ and ‘Jack and the Beanstalk and where’s me golden goose?’ etc., but I can see that the other lupin owners are impressed.

  ‘How come two are smaller?’ yells Cathy.

  ‘What?’ I squeeze my thighs together but she’s talking about the lupins. Whew.

  I stagger up the back and Cooja’s practically ignoring me, too busy coping with the full-on attentions of Belinda and Cathy, who seem to be trying to outdo each other. I catch this girl Chani’s eye and she pulls a face. She used to hang with Belinda and Cathy but this new girl came to our class, Brooke, (who catches another bus) and now she mainly hangs with her. I decide not to sit with Cooja and his two sucker-fish and go and sit next to Chani.

  ‘Wow. What’s with the giant plants?’ she says.

  I give her the lupin low-down which takes the rest of the trip. As we pull up Cathy flounces down the aisle looking angry. She doesn’t even give me a glance. I sit holding the lupins while Cooja saunters past with Belinda, looking triumphant.

  ‘So,’ says Chani, ‘Cooja’s managed to break up their friendship.’

  ‘Seems a shame.’

  I don’t mention that he’s on the verge of busting up our friendship, too.

  I get off the bus and carry the container carefully into the science room. Miss Rosewall’s there surrounded by lupins and lupin-lovers and the guy from the CSIRO. Leanne’s are given a label and that’s it. I guess I thought there’d be a trumpet fanfare and I’d get a medal or a week off school as a reward or something. Nothing. I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen next so I slink off to my own class.

  I find Cooja at the lockers. I can’t stand it any more.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘What do ya mean?’

  ‘Who ya goin with, Cathy or Belinda?’

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘Look,’ I go, ‘I don’t care if you’re tryin to get on with every Year 7 girl in the school, but I’m supposed to be ya best mate. Ya could give me a clue or two, but.’

  ‘Can’t. You’re emotionally involved.’

  ‘What?’

  I face him, totally ripped out by what he’s just said.

  ‘Me? Emotionally involved?’

  ‘Belinda.’

  ‘I’m not,’ I shout. ‘I dumped her, she didn’t dump me.’

  ‘That’s not what she’s sayin, man.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, I couldn’t give a rat’s rissole what she’s saying. The only emotional grief I’m goin through right now is wonderin where my loopy sister Leanne’s got to, okay?’

  ‘If ya say so.’

  ‘Anyway,’ I go, ‘Belinda and I stopped bein an item nearly five months ago, so what’s brought all this on?’

  ‘Nothin.’

  ‘Ah.’

  The furtive look on his face gives him away.

  ‘You’re tryna dump Cathy,’ I crow. ‘That’s what all this is about. Ya haven’t got the guts, so you’re tryna come on to Belinda plus push Cathy onto me. Good one, mate, good one.’

  ‘Yeah … well … ,’ Cooja looks at the floor and scuffs his shoe very busily. ‘Ar …’

  He looks up and thumps me on the shoulder awkwardly.

  ‘Sorry. It was a shabby idea. You’re me best mate.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’

  I awkwardly thump him back as the bell sounds for class assembly. We start walking towards our classroom with Boxie trailing behind and his ears flapping like radar discs.

  ‘Listen, you’re gonna have to deal with Cathy an it’s not a good idea to do it by crackin on to Belinda. Unless you really like her, of course.’

  ‘Nah.’

  He narrows his eyes.

  ‘The chick I really fancy’s Gabby Zanoni.’

  ‘What? She’s in Year 11.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Mate, forget it. Nearly every guy in the city’s got the hots for Gabby Zanoni.’

  ‘Yeah. She’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Another point you’ve forgotten, Spacehead, she doesn’t date.’

  ‘Yeah. But she would if she found the right guy.’

  We’ve hit our home room.

  ‘So maybe I’m the right guy.’

  ‘Get real,’ I go. ‘You can get almost any girl you want. You’re cool. But you’re not that cool, Cooja.’

  ‘Yeah? Well …’

  ‘Gentlemen,’ says Randy Andy, ‘would you like to tell the whole class what is so interesting?’

  I hate when teachers butt in and do this cornball thing. As if we want to tell the whole class what we’re talking about!

  But Cooja’s always the grandstander. He can’t let the opportunity go by.

  ‘Yeah,’ he goes. His eyes flick to Cathy then to Belinda.

  ‘I was just tellin me mate Sam that I’m gonna get a date with Gabby Zanoni.’

  Gasps. Giggles. Catcalls. Cheers. Groans. Cooja bows and struts to his seat. I follow. But before I sit I check Cathy’s face. She’s white. And Belinda next to her’s as red as a Mr Heinz big red tomato. For a second I think ‘Snow White and Rose Red’, the old fairy story from my kindergarten days.

  Well, he’s successfully given Cathy the flick but what a way to do it. And Belinda hates his guts.

  ‘Well,’ says Randy Andy, who’s aware of Gabby Zanoni and her Ice Maiden reputation, ‘I wish you the best of British luck, Mr Coojanovic. What I’d like to know is how long you’re going to give yourself to attain your goal of dating Miss … er … Zanoni?’

  Whoa, heavy. Randy Andy (who’s always disliked Cooja cause he’s a big-mouth in class) has homed right in on this. Now he’s putting Cooja on the spot. Cooja stands, grinning.

  ‘How long
do you reckon, sir?’

  Randy Andy shrugs.

  ‘Oh. I’d say a lifetime and then some!’

  ‘Give me a week,’ says Cooja.

  Now I know he’s lost the plot. The moon’s going to fall out of the sky and hit him on the head before Gabby Zanoni goes out on a hot date with him!

  ‘Ah,’ says Randy Andy, ‘and are we to take your word when this event occurs? How will we know if Miss Zanoni is on a genuine date with you or just conned into appearing with you briefly in public?’

  The bell’s gone but we’re all still sitting there, fascinated. Then Cathy puts up her hand.

  ‘Yes, Cathy?’

  ‘Gabby Zanoni’s got to come in here to home group assembly and tell us she’s in love with Michael Coojanovic,’ she says.

  ‘And she’s got to kiss him,’ adds Belinda.

  ‘Yeah. And on the lips,’ yells Boxie.

  The class cracks up. Randy Andy gathers his papers together. He hasn’t even marked the roll or read out the daily bulletin and the next teacher’s walking in looking annoyed with his Year 8 bashing at the door.

  ‘So. Taking up the challenge, Coojanovic?’ says Randy Andy.

  ‘You betcha,’ goes Cooja.

  And we all troll out to the next class.

  ‘You’ve flipped,’ I hiss, as all these kids crowd round slapping him on the back and saying rude things. Out of the corner of my eye I see Belinda and Cathy go off arms round each other. A friendship’s just been patched up so that’s one good thing to come out of all this. We’ve got heavy classes up till recess so I don’t get a chance to talk to him until we’re in the canteen buying our coffee scrolls.

  ‘Ya gotta help me, Sam,’ he says as we find a spot away from the crowd.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Help me get a date with Gabby Zanoni.’

  ‘Me? Why me?’

  ‘Because you’re me best mate!’

  Believe me, I’m starting to think that Jack the Ripper’d be a better mate.

  ‘Look, Cooja,’ I go, ‘you got yourself into this with your ego. I’ve got worries of my own, remember? My sister’s on the run, could be dead or worse, or have you forgotten?’

  ‘Thought ya hated her guts.’

  ‘Changed my mind. Anyway I’ve got enough on my plate. You’ll have to get yourself outa your own mess. You’ll have to get your date with Gabby Zanoni all on your own!’

  ‘Sam Studley. Could Sam Studley please come to the Principal’s office?’

  The message bellows over all the voices.

  Now what?

  ‘Maybe Leanne’s turned up safe and well,’ goes Cooja.

  He doesn’t add the next bit. Now I can concentrate on his problem … his hot date with Gabby.

  I hurry to the office. Mr Bell (old Ding Dong) is there with the CSIRO man. And Leanne’s lupins. He explains that he’s been repeating the experiment with heaps of lupins and all sorts of music and for some reason they really thrive on heavy metal of the musical kind. ‘Great,’ I go.

  Even more importantly, Guns N’ Roses have produced the best results, Hunters and Collectors second and Spin Doctors third. Surprisingly Metallica, Megadeth and the really heavy metal bands haven’t produced as good results. Big bucks will be paid out to find out why.

  ‘Great,’ I say again.

  I really can’t understand why a government department’s so interested in the growth patterns of a bunch of dumb plants.

  The guy sees my blank face and decides to explain.

  ‘Lupins are part of the legume family.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘You know, like peas and beans?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘And therefore are an important fodder for animals. Also there’s research occurring to look at lupins as a viable fuel source, like linseed.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Your sister’s inadvertent discovery of certain music to accelerate plant growth is of significant scientific importance to the nation and possibly the world.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Therefore the CSIRO’s nominating her for the Young Achiever’s Award.’

  Leanne? The Young Achiever’s Award? She’ll die. Not her scene. I’ve got to get her out of this. Fast.

  ‘Er … I dunno,’ I go. ‘She’s kinda shy.’

  ‘Leanne Studley is definitely not shy,’ Ding Dong interrupts. ‘The only problem is that she’s er … temporarily interstate at the moment.’

  ‘I beg your pardon? I was told she’s recovering at home from German measles.’

  ‘That’s news to me,’ I blurt then wish I’d kept my big mouth shut.

  The CSIRO man looks at me.

  ‘Where is she, Sam?’

  ‘Well … she’s run away.’

  ‘Ah. Often these young, highly intelligent females are temperamental and emotionally dysfunctional,’ he goes. ‘She’ll come back when she’s had some quality time alone.’

  Quality time? Leanne?

  While I’m thinking about this he shakes my hand and says he’ll be in touch. Then Ding Dong gives me this spiel about keeping Leanne’s disappearance quiet for the honour of the school, and that it’s a great honour for the school to have a nominee for the Young Achievers’ Award and the name of Leanne Studley will be inscribed on the school honour board.

  If Leanne was here right now she’d be spewing her guts out. How can you be a super-cool rebel if your name’s in neon lights on the school honour board? If she comes back this is going to wreck her entire life. And if she finds out about this Achievers thing she’ll never come back. She’ll be too embarrassed to show her face in town!

  ‘Er,’ I go, ‘I’d better take these lupins back home and keep looking after them.’

  I can always manage to knock them over and squash them flatter than a cane toad on the highway, or leave them out for the snails to eat. I’ve just got to demolish them, and in a hurry.

  But the CSIRO guy isn’t handing them over. Leanne’s lupins are off to lab land, high-tech security, and I’ll get the blame for her success. How can life be such a bummer?

  I go out of the office and there’s Cooja lurking in the corridor.

  ‘Help,’ he says.

  Sometimes friends are a pain in the neck.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘You’re a true mate, right? Well, I want you to cruise casually up to Gabby Zanoni and tell her this really attractive guy would like to take her to the Madonna concert.’

  ‘Huh? Who’s the cool guy?’

  ‘Me, ya worm, who else?’

  ‘But the tickets are eighty each. Where’re you gonna get 160 bucks? Plus the fares up to Melbourne. Plus your date’ll want food. Plus the single red rose. Get real, Cooja.’

  ‘Look. I’ve found out the only thing Gabby’s nuts about is Madonna. She’s not gonna say no, is she?’

  ‘Ask her yourself, then.’

  ‘I can’t. She might knock me back. You ask.’

  ‘So, the great Coojanovic can’t take rejection!’

  I didn’t think he had any weak spots.

  ‘Go on,’ he says.

  ‘What’s in it for me?’

  ‘You can have Cathy.’

  ‘No way. I don’t want your leftovers.’

  He’s squirming, ‘Okay, okay, I’ll do it. But I’d be better to ask her friend Eva, and she can tell Gabby, then …’

  ‘Just do it or I’ll be ready to retire an go on the old age pension!’

  ‘Okay!’

  Sometimes he can really nag.

  I end up finding Eva in a corner of the library studying the life cycle of a proton bomb or something heavily scientific. She’s got a funny bunched-up nose which holds up her wire-rims, and long brown hair in a thick braid thing. She looks like one of those hankie-head people without the hankie. And she kind of smells funny, like leftover tea bags.

  ‘Hi,’ I say.

  She looks at me like I crawled out of the sea a few billion years ago.

  ‘Yes?’

&
nbsp; ‘Er … I’ve got a message for Gabby. Does she … I mean … would she like to go to the Madonna concert … like, for free?’

  ‘Why don’t you ask her? She’s over there by the physics section.’

  ‘Well, er …’

  ‘Who wants to take her? You?’

  ‘No. I mean, well, it’s this really top guy. He’s cool, good-looking … and it wouldn’t really be a date as such, more the sharing of a mutual interest.’

  ‘Hmm,’ she says, closing her book with a snap. I feel hopeful.

  ‘Come over here.’ She grabs me by the arm and hauls me across to where Gabby is reading. I catch my breath. She is a total babe close up. She smiles vaguely at me as Eva pushes me forward.

  ‘Go on. Ask her.’

  ‘It’s not for me, it’s for my … er … an admirer. He wants to take you to the Madonna concert.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She tilts her head to one side and considers me carefully.

  ‘Who is he?’ says Eva.

  It’s really none of her business but seeing she’s involved as a go-between like me, a kind of innocent bystander, I understand. I swallow. Here’s the bit where I get laughed out of the library.

  ‘Michael Coojanovic.’

  ‘What? Isn’t he that short little geek in Year 7?’

  ‘He’s not that short and he’s not really a geek,’ I say, feeling foolish.

  ‘He has tickets to Madonna?’

  Now what do I say?

  ‘That’s what he told me.’

  Gabby looks thoughtful. Eva nudges her.

  ‘It wouldn’t be a date,’ she goes. ‘Not with a little kid. Why don’t you grab the offer, get to see Madonna for free?’

  Gabby looks at me.

  ‘Tell you what,’ she says sweetly, ‘I’ll only go if it’s a double date. Your friend can take Eva and … I’ll go with you.’

  I nearly faint. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to pan out at all.

  ‘Er … no, you’ve got to go with him.’

  ‘He takes Eva, I go with you, or we don’t go at all!’

  I think quickly.

  ‘I’ll have to confer with my associate. I shall return.’