No Alarms

by Beckett, Bernard

  She walked in the front door and saw Tom and Kaz both sitting there in the kitchen, like they’d been waiting on her for hours; looking up through the cigarette smoke with matching getting-ready-for-a-serious-talk looks on their faces. Serious talk that always turned into an argument.

  ‘No you don’t,’ Kaz barked as she tried to walk straight past them. ‘Come in here and sit down.’

  ‘Hi ya Tom,’ Sharon tried, giving her best little drowning-girl smile, but she could see from his expression he was having a day off from that one.

  I know what this’ll be about. School’s rung, about the fight, and this is one of your bullshit, pretending to care days. Well fuck it. I’m not in the mood.

  ‘Right.’ Kaz stubbed out her cigarette, grinding it down hard so her knuckle went white. She’d noticed the jacket but she wouldn’t say anything, not yet. She’d save that, ammunition for later.

  ‘Where’s Zinny?’ Sharon asked. Zinny, who I always look after, cos I’m not as slack as you think, she meant, but Kaz cut her off.

  ‘Next door. And it’s not about that.’

  Tom sat silently. He looked down at the red formica of the table top, just doing his duty. Doing what was right.

  ‘You know what it is about though don’t you?’ Kaz said, when Sharon didn’t play along.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Don’t give me fucken maybe girl. Who do you think’s been on the phone to me all afternoon? School, that’s who.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  Sharon put her head down too. She could mumble her way through this, till Kaz ran out of patience.

  ‘Mrs Flynn tells me you’re going to be kicked out this time.’

  ‘Mrs Flynn’s full of shit. You’ve said so yourself.’

  She had too, when it had suited her, but Kaz had plenty of moods to choose from.

  ‘You’re already out of Maths, is that right?’ Kaz glared, working herself up now.

  ‘It’s only Maths.’

  ‘And today you assaulted a girl. Almost broke her nose.’

  ‘You can’t almost break a nose,’ Sharon pointed out. ‘It’s broken or it isn’t. Anyway, I was defending myself, trying to get back my personal property.’

  ‘There’s other ways,’ Kaz said.

  ‘Like you’d know,’ Sharon challenged. She just wanted this over with. She wanted out, to be allowed to get to her room. Door closed, music up, none of this shit to worry about. If she could get Kaz fired up enough to hit her, that’d end it. Easy.

  ‘Sharon, we just want to help you,’ Tom said, realising it was his time to speak. That was why he was here, someone who could say things that neither of them could get pissed off with, because once, at a paddling pool, he’d taken away that right.

  ‘You can help me by leaving me alone,’ Sharon said.

  ‘Leaving you alone to get kicked out of school. Is that going to help you is it?’ Kaz asked, still fired up, her eyes with the dark dangerous look they could do.

  ‘Might,’ Sharon answered.

  There was a silence, like everybody knew that wasn’t any sort of an answer.

  ‘It’s not like I’m going to pass anyway.’

  ‘Well not with that attitude, no.’

  ‘Mrs Flynn says you’re quite bright,’ Tom added.

  ‘And you needed her to tell you that did you?’

  ‘No, he’s just saying isn’t he?’ Kaz said. ‘He’s just saying you don’t have to fail.’

  ‘And what difference would that make anyway?’ Sharon answered. ‘You know what sort of shit they teach there. It’s not like I see any qualifications hanging off your wall.’

  That’s what did it. That’s what got Kaz standing, like she wanted to do something more but she didn’t know what. That’s what brought the tears up behind Kaz’s eyes, so the conversation would have to finish, because Kaz wouldn’t let herself start crying in front of Tom.

  ‘And that’s what you want is it, you stupid little shit? That’s all you want? You just want to turn out like me? Well let me tell you kid, that’s not an ambition. That’s a fucken life sentence. Go on, if you’re so fucken clever. Go and piss off to your room. But I’m not leaving this you know. We’re going down to that school of yours and we’re going to sort it out.’

  Sharon knew Kaz was serious then, because Kaz hated the school even more than she did. She’d seen that, the only time Kaz had been down there. It was some poxy guidance interview that did no good, that just ended up taking a clever person like Kaz and making her feel stupid too.

  Sharon had no choice then. She stood up and walked out on the both of them, not even saying goodbye to Tom, because she knew if she stayed she’d start crying too. Then there’d be lots of hugging and someone’d find drink and the top would be knocked off an evening she was way too tired for.

  ‘And you’re taking that jacket back tomorrow too,’ Kaz shouted after her. ‘Back to wherever you stole it from.’

  • • •

  Kaz was up early the next morning. Sharon didn’t wear her jacket and Kaz didn’t complain when Sharon took one of her cigarettes. The kitchen was quiet as Sharon buttered her toast, truce quiet. Even Zinny had worked it out and went about his almost-four-year-old business without a sound.

  Sharon could see Kaz was as relieved as she was. Fights weren’t something they tried for, they just happened, like late buses or unexpected bills. The other times were better, the times between fights. Kaz waited till Sharon was about to leave, carefully on time, before she explained what had been arranged. She spoke using her don’t-start-with-me voice, tired but only a step away from hard too, if it was needed.

  ‘We’re meeting with Mrs Flynn at one o’clock. You’ll be there too. Tom rang her last night. He thinks we can stop it going to the board. You’re lucky eh? I’ll see you there.’

  Tom rang Mrs Flynn? At night? So who did he say he was, whanau support? Uncle Tom, Convertor of Cars and Supporter of Lost Causes.

  Still, it would be easy enough, just shutting up, saying sorry at the right times, keeping everybody happy.

  It would have been too, sweet as, no question, if Mark hadn’t come running up to her at interval, his face all hot and red with excitement she didn’t need.

  ‘What do you want wanker?’ She said, knowing people around her were listening in, curious to know what the two of them might have to talk about.

  ‘You know.’ Mark hopped from one foot to the other, as if the ground beneath him was burning.

  ‘No.’ Anyone else would have got it. Anyone else would have heard ‘go away’.

  ‘The assignment.’ Mark said it slowly, like he was sounding it out for a small child. ‘Did you hand it in?’

  ‘No, it was no good,’ Sharon hissed. ‘Now piss off. What are you, thick or something?’

  But he looked at her before he turned away. Looked at her and said ‘I’m not thick. I know you handed it in,’ without moving his lips. Then he walked away but the damage was done. Nothing on the outside, nothing anyone could see. Just the feeling that somewhere inside of her another loose thread had been pulled at. Maybe that was why Sharon forgot about the meeting, until a message got sent to her Geography class.

  She walked into the guidance room and took the only chair left, between nervous Tom and pissed off Kaz.

  ‘You’re ten minutes late!’ Mrs Flynn reprimanded. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Sorry, bad day. I dropped my last tampon down the toilet and had to wait for someone to go and get me another one.’

  Tom blushed but Kaz, who wasn’t that stupid, hid a smile.

  Even in the inclusive guidance suite Mrs Flynn had managed to set it up for a confrontation. The three of them sat together in a guilty line. Mrs Flynn and Ms Hedges, the counsellor, faced them; a hanging judge and her court reporter. There was no Zinny. He should have been there, Sharon was sure of it. Everyone knew Mrs Flynn didn’t have any children.

  ‘Right, well,’ Ms Hedges cleared her throat, ‘perhaps we could get started. I
’m Ms Hedges,’ she nodded to Tom, then smiled at Kaz like the two of them were good friends. ‘It’s good you could both come. I’ve been asked here by Mrs Flynn to act as a mediator. This isn’t a place where any decisions will be made, so you needn’t feel, ah, under trial. It’s just a chance to start exploring the ways we can help make Sharon’s education more positive. That’s the bottom line isn’t it really?’

  She looked to Mrs Flynn who nodded her agreement. It was easy to see she was lying.

  ‘We are really looking for ways to move on from here. We don’t necessarily want to focus on the trouble, we’re more interested in the solutions. What we’re hoping is that by the end of this we will have a set of actions which we can all agree upon. How does that sound?’

  She looked at all three of them. Sharon shrugged and mumbled ‘s’pose’ and the adult on either side did the same.

  This is what happens, when you treat us all like children.

  Sharon could smell the motor grime that lived in Tom’s pores. She wondered what he was making of all this pastel shaded shit.

  ‘But before we can do that,’ Ms Hedges went on, like she was following a carefully discussed game plan, ‘I think we need to be very clear what the problems are, because at the moment there are some very real problems with Sharon being at this school, and if we can’t resolve them she will not be able to remain here. So, let’s start with you Sharon.

  ‘We’re going to see if we can bring out what all the major problems here might be. So, Sharon, tell us what’s been causing the trouble, from your perspective?’

  And while Sharon stared at her, not getting quite what was happening but understanding exactly what the contract they would end up with would look like, Ms Hedges turned to a large sheet of brown paper on the low table next to her and wrote in bright red marker, ‘Sharon’s Problems’, like someone might do on a children’s television programme.

  ‘Well, Sharon,’ the counsellor prompted but Sharon couldn’t see past the paper. It was all so pathetic.

  ‘Sharon.’

  Then Mrs Flynn, who had been sitting back, like a hawk watching a possum dying on the road, spoke.

  ‘You don’t have to contribute but you won’t be able to say you didn’t have a chance to have your say.’

  So you can walk into our trap, or we can push you.

  Kaz poked her in the ribs with an elbow, like the two of them were third form mates in trouble together.

  ‘Alright then,’ Sharon said. ‘Mostly the problem is the way people treat me.’ She saw Mrs Flynn raise an eyebrow. ‘No, like in Maths, where most of the trouble is. It doesn’t matter what happens, it’s always me that gets singled out. And other kids, like Madeleine, they sort of know, so they hassle me, cos they know it’ll be me who gets it. It isn’t fair. And that’s the problem.’

  ‘So Madeleine asked you to punch her, so she could get you in trouble, is that what you’re saying?’ Mrs Flynn asked, and the sarcasm would have got heavier but Ms Hedges caught her with a look.

  ‘She stole something of mine and was making fun of me because she knew so long as it was me she was hassling she wouldn’t get in any trouble for it,’ Sharon answered, pleased at the way having Tom and Kaz there was helping her stay calm. When she was calm she didn’t say stupid stuff, and when she didn’t say stupid stuff Mrs Flynn couldn’t touch her.

  ‘Alright.’ Ms Hedges nodded, like she wasn’t sure where to go next.

  ‘Aren’t you going to write that down?’ Tom asked, all innocent-like. Sharon smiled as ‘Treated unfairly’ went down on the sheet.

  ‘Um, well,’ Ms Hedges looked to Mrs Flynn. ‘And from the school’s point of view then, where are the major problems?’

  ‘There are a number of them,’ Mrs Flynn said, looking at Ms Hedge’s sheet of paper as if it wouldn’t nearly be big enough. She spoke to Ms Hedges like the two of them were total strangers and they hadn’t been planning this together all morning. ‘Attitude is the the biggest problem. Sharon needs to stop blaming other people and start accepting responsibility. She’s frequently late, she’s forever in trouble for smoking, there’s a big attendance problem, just her printout for last week for instance,’ she gestured with the green folder she held in her left hand. Then there’s aggression, towards classmates and teachers, use of foul language, open disregard for authority in many cases, um,’ Mrs Flynn paused, as if she was sampling from an endless list.

  Sharon looked to the floor. So what? At least I’m not just giving in. At least I’ve got plans.

  ‘And of course there’s the whole academic side. There’s nothing in the feedback I’ve had from any of Sharon’s teachers to suggest to me she’s making any sort of effort at all. She’s not working in class, she’s not completing assignments. She’s passed no credits this year. Frankly I don’t quite understand what she’s doing here.’

  And that was it, the whole point. Sharon could feel it as plain as if it had been tattooed onto her forehead. We don’t want to help you at all. We just want you to go. Ms Hedges looked up from her paper, where she had been scribbling furiously.

  ‘And how about you two? Are there any problems you’d like to add?’

  But they’d made a mistake, turning it into a slagging-Sharon-off session, because it didn’t matter how pissed off Kaz ever got, she was always loyal. Tom too. If it was going to turn into a battle Sharon knew they’d both be on her side.

  ‘Not really,’ Tom said, when Kaz left a silence. Ms Hedges seemed unsure whether to write that down.

  ‘I’m more interested in what you’re going to do about it.’ Kaz didn’t hide that she meant it as a challenge. She stared hard at Mrs Flynn and Mrs Flynn stared back. We could just take this outside, Sharon thought. I’d back Kaz every time.

  ‘Well yes, that’s the next stage,’ Ms Hedges muttered, looking more uncomfortable by the moment. She reached for her second piece of paper, already headed in blue with the word ‘Solutions’. ‘Now, perhaps if we…’

  ‘I think,’ Mrs Flynn interrupted, ‘we need to be very clear here. We’ve been very tolerant to date and now the ball is clearly in your court.’

  She spoke to all three of them as if they were all equally to blame, and equally stupid.

  ‘If Sharon is to stay at this school I will need a commitment that certain things will change. She will be at school on time every day, she will not miss classes, she will not antagonise other students or staff members and she will stop smoking.’

  ‘I thought,’ Kaz spoke slowly, her voice on the edge of shaking. She hated Mrs Flynn just as much as Sharon did now, and for all the same reasons. ‘I thought this was going to be a discussion. She said we were all going to have to do things.’

  She looked at Ms Hedges but the counsellor had given up pretending.

  ‘That’s right,’ Mrs Flynn said, still using her talking-to-a-child tone.

  She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.

  ‘So what are you going to do then?’ Kaz asked.

  ‘I’m going to delay recommending Sharon for exclusion,’ she replied.

  ‘Doesn’t seem like much to me,’ Kaz said, ‘considering the problem.’

  There was a silence and Sharon looked around the walls, reading the pithy sayings Ms Hedges had put there. ‘To be all you can’, one read, ‘you must dream of being more.’

  Mrs Flynn opened her green folder and produced the familiar contract.

  ‘I will need Sharon to sign this, and you too please.’ She passed it to Kaz and offered her a pen. Kaz didn’t take it, but instead studied the sheet, her frown deepening.

  ‘No, some of this will have to be changed,’ she announced.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘She can smoke on the way to and from school. That’s nothing to do with you. I let her smoke at home. And some days she has to be late. She looks after her little brother. Things come up sometimes. And she might get into trouble still, if other people start it.’ She handed back the contract and Sharon willed Mrs Flynn
to look her way, so she could add her smile to the insult. Yeah, it was good Kaz’d come along. Now she’d understand.

  ‘If this isn’t signed…’ Mrs Flynn tried again.

  ‘Ah, why don’t we take it away then,’ Tom said. ‘We’ll have a think and let you know.’

  It was obvious Mrs Flynn wasn’t at all happy with the solution but it was a way out and she had to take it.

  Ms Hedges stood and thanked them all for coming, but even she couldn’t make it sound sincere. Once they were outside Tom screwed up the contract and lobbed it into a bin. When Sharon smiled Kaz hit her, hard across the back of the head.

  ‘Just cos she’s a bitch doesn’t mean I’m happy with you,’ she said.

  ‘Where are you going anyway?’

  ‘Home.’

  ‘No you’re not. You’re going to class.’

  • • •

  Class was English so Sharon didn’t mind too much. She was five minutes late and Trish was already in the middle of something, standing over by the window, with most of the class watching her.

  ‘Ah Sharon.’

  ‘Sorry I’m late. I was with Mrs Flynn.’

  Jason whispered something to Junior and they both looked back to where Madeleine was sitting. There was a deep purple bruise surrounding her eyes, making her look like some slut who’d gone too far with the eye shadow. Others looked too and laughed quietly as Sharon walked down to her seat at the back. It hadn’t worked out too bad then, if it made Madeleine feel stink and got Sharon a little more respect.

  ‘Right, anyway, as I was saying,’ Trish continued, not making anything of it. ‘Most of this rocks. I know that sounds suspect to you, because schools are full of people telling you things are good when we all know they aren’t, and I’m not saying there weren’t mistakes in what you wrote, too many mistakes. But the thing’s this. What you wrote seemed real to me. Quite seriously, if people could read this, without the bullshit, without all the worrying what other people might think, well I think it could make quite an impact. So this is what I’m going to do, or what I’d like to do I guess, if you agree. I want you to treat that as a practice run, because I think some of you were holding back. I think some of you were trying too hard to be polite. Don’t worry about the words you use, don’t worry about who might be going to see it. You’ve got another week, to come up with something harder. Three things worked well okay, and I won’t shame you by using examples. But two people did pages of tagging and one of them was outstanding. And it got me thinking too. What message would you like to leave if you got the chance? What would you say? Use colour if you like. And diaries. There were some excellent diary entries. Go big on the diaries. Keep it short though. Five good sentences beat twenty crap ones yeah? It doesn’t have to be about yourself, but the diary format’s working. What was the other? Oh yes, the list.’