by Robin Martin
‘Jeez, Rion, I don’t know. What do you want to do?’
He thought for a moment. ‘I’d like to go bowling.’
‘What? Where did you get that idea from?’
‘I saw it on television. I think the program was called Happy Days. I think bowling would be fun.’
‘You do realise that Happy Days is set in the nineteen fifties, don’t you? Like last century. Things have changed a lot since then.’
‘But they still have bowling alleys, don’t they?’
‘Yeah, I guess.’ I had images of fat guys in bowling shirts, and older ladies in stretchy pants and floral shirts.
‘Then let’s try it out.’ He gave me an enthusiastic smile.
‘Sure, why not.’ I shrugged. What difference did it make what we did? It wasn’t like a real date or anything.
In last period I got yet another surprise. Rion was in physics, and I was in biology, the soft option for science, which was not my strongest area. We were in lab and making our second bisection of a frog. Gross, I know, but kind of interesting. This time we were looking at the liver. Who knew that it was so big in such a tiny creature. Anyway, Harry was my lab partner. Even though in real life Harry was kind of a klutz, he was good at this kind of stuff, and pretty smart, too. So I didn’t mind him being my partner.
We’d examined the liver and made our observations. I copied some of Harry’s notes into my science journal.
‘You’ll never be a doctor, you know that, Harry,’ I said, looking up from my book.
He looked puzzled. ‘Why? Not that I want to be or anything.’
‘Because your handwriting is too neat,’ I said, and laughed.
A lame joke, I know, but he laughed politely with me. That was one thing I liked about Harry. He was kind, even to people who didn’t deserve it. And there were plenty of those who gave him a hard time. I didn’t think I was one of them. Plus, I’d known him like forever.
When we cleaned up Harry started to act a bit awkward, dropping the magnifying glass and then bumping his head when he bent down to pick it up. He acted like this whenever he felt embarrassed or something. I wondered what was up.
Straightening, he put the magnifying glass back and then said, ‘Um, Zoe.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, as I tidied up the rest of the things on our lab bench.
‘I was wondering …’
‘Mmm?’ I put the frog back in the bucket of formaldehyde.
‘Are you doing anything this Sunday?’
I shrugged. ‘Don’t think so.’
I knew Rion would probably bug me until I did my homework and, unlike Harry, he wouldn’t let me cheat off him. Help, maybe, but he’d still make me do the work. I wondered if he’d done that with Jas. My mind wandered off and I was thinking of those things when Harry brought me back to the present.
‘The thing is, I’ve got this party to go to. It’s my cousin’s eighteenth birthday and we’re having a family barbecue. Would you like to go with me?’ He looked at me, biting his lips and looking all anxious and hopeful at the same time.
‘But isn’t it kind of a family thing?’ I asked. I had the awkward feeling Harry was asking me out on a date.
‘Yeah, but they said I could bring someone. My mum could pick you up and drop you home. It’d be really cool if you could come.’ His voice lifted a little.
‘Did you tell them you were bringing someone, Harry?’
‘I said I might,’ he said, his voice trailing off.
I knew what that meant. His family was expecting him to bring a date, probably delighted that little Harry was growing up at last. I could just imagine what he’d feel like if he had to turn up alone and make up some excuse for why he didn’t bring a girl. And I knew that if I didn’t go nobody would.
I tried to keep down the big sigh that wanted to escape. Why, oh why, did I have to inherit the empathy gene from my mum? It was really inconvenient.
I looked at Harry and his hopeful, round face. ‘Sure,’ I said, ‘what time?’
Chapter Sixteen
Most weekends I had zero dates. This weekend I had two. Go figure. Not that they were dates in the strict sense of the word. The one with Rion was just, well, who knows except it definitely wasn’t a date in the boyfriend sense, and the one with Harry was, I had to admit, a pity date. I wasn’t looking forward to either.
I mean, who wanted to go bowling? I thought it was either for little kids’ birthday parties or old people’s bowling leagues. It sure wasn’t a cool activity. I just hoped no one would ask me where Rion and I had gone.
Mum and Dad thought it was a great idea for me to do something ‘wholesome and healthy’ rather than the parties I’d been going to all year. I knew they thought Rion was a good influence on me. I think they kind of hoped his uncle wouldn’t come back for a long time.
This morning, for instance, Rion cut the grass, front and back, without even being asked. He was always doing stuff like that, taking in the washing off the line, putting out the rubbish, unstacking the dishwasher, even though that was my job, and his room was always anally tidy, unlike mine, which I felt had a more creative, unstructured vibe. Okay, it was untidy.
Rion was the ideal houseguest, and he wasn’t going to wear out his welcome any time soon. So, no problem with him taking their one and only child out for the evening.
Putting on my second-best jeans and semi-nice blue top, I got ready for our date. I’d washed my hair and straightened it—with Mum’s straightener now that I wasn’t going to get one of my own for a while—and put on the barest minimum of makeup, just lip gloss and a hint of blush. I wasn’t going overboard for bowling or, for that matter, Rion.
The bowling alley was just a short bus ride away, which was a plus because Mum wouldn’t have to drop us there as if I was twelve.
‘You look pretty, darling,’ Mum said when I came downstairs. ‘So nice to see you without all that makeup you usually cake on when you go out.’
‘Glad to see you have something sensible on,’ Dad said when he looked up from the paper he was reading in the lounge room. His idea of sensible was probably close to what the Victorians wore. ‘Don’t forget to take a cardigan,’ he added. ‘It’s going to be cold tonight.’
Parents.
Rion was waiting at the door. He was wearing the jeans and brown T-shirt we’d bought at the mall, and his black jumper was knotted around his shoulders He looked, well … definitely not ugly. Too bad I knew that underneath that dreamy exterior was just a little soap-bubble alien whose mission in life seemed to be to make mine miserable. I’d be surprised if we got through this night without an argument.
He passed me the brown cable cardigan that I got two Christmases ago from an aunt who shall not be named. It was two sizes too big then and it was still loose now. Rion must have grabbed it from the broom closet where I’d stuffed it one day. It was really hard having three parents. But I took it anyway. Whatever. It’s not as if I was out to impress or anything. Besides, the bus was due in a few minutes so we had to leave.
Rion was carrying a little white box in one hand. ‘What’s that?’
‘I’ll show you outside,’ he said. Mysterious, much.
We said goodbye to the parents and left.
As we walked down the pathway, he put a hand on my wrist and stopped me. ‘Okay, I’ll show you what’s in the box.’ He opened the box, a little clumsily for him, and took out a small yellow flower. ‘Here, this is for you,’ handing it to me. ‘I believe it’s called a corsage. I used some of the money your father insisted on giving me today for mowing the lawn.’
I took it and looked at it in wonder. ‘That’s really nice of you, Rion, but I don’t understand. Why did you get it?’
‘I believe it’s customary to give a girl one of these on a date. I did some research on the internet. You can either tie it on your wrist or pin it on your clothes. Since we’re going bowling I thought perhaps you could put it on your cardigan.’
I tried really hard not to giggle. I
t was kind of sweet of him, but seriously, a corsage for a bowling date? Or any kind of date. This wasn’t the 1960s or whenever it was that boys did stuff like this for fancy dances. Maybe they still did—somewhere—but they sure didn’t do it for bowling. I felt like I should be wearing a big dress with about a dozen petticoats or crinolines underneath.
I wondered again what on earth Rion had learned in the many years he’d been here. Then I remembered that his last host had died at eighty-seven, which explained Rion’s old-fashioned perspective on dating.
But I couldn’t say any of this. He was looking all pleased with himself and I didn’t have the heart to burst his bubble. ‘Thanks, Rion, it’s very pretty.’
‘I had to improvise because they didn’t have any corsages in the flower shop. I bought a large flower and used a little foil to wrap the stem. I also put in a pin. Here, let me attach it for you,’ he said, beaming.
Gee, I actually had to wear it? Well, if Rion put it on the cardigan it meant I didn’t have to wear it bowling because that brown woollen beast was coming off. So I let him pin the bright yellow flower on my daggy cardigan and even smiled. I really hoped there wouldn’t be anyone I knew on the bus.
He stepped back and looked at it critically. ‘Yes, I was right in thinking that your brown cardigan would go well with a yellow flower.’
‘Um, yeah, sure, yellow and brown, I get it.’ Not, I thought. My alien certainly didn’t have a future ahead of him with Sass and Bide, or even Bettina Liano.
When we reached the bus stop we sat down to wait.
‘You know you really didn’t have to get me anything, Rion,’ I said. ‘It’s not like this is a real date.’
‘But I wanted to do it properly. I’ve started to realise how little I know about human interactions, so I thought it was time to learn.’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘This is just so you and I can get to learn about each other so we’ll get along better, right?’
He nodded.
‘But a date is a bit more, you know, romantic,’ I said. ‘That’s not what this is.’
He looked surprised. ‘But not always, surely,’ he said. ‘Don’t people go on dates just to have fun?’
‘Yeah, that too.’
‘You said “too”, which implies there’s always a romantic element.’ Now he looked troubled.
‘Usually,’ I said, then quickly added, ‘but not in our case. I was just explaining things to you.’ It was kind of like talking to a very innocent twelve year old—no, make that a ten year old—who also happened to be over four thousand years old. I sometimes wondered if he’d been asleep most of that time.
Thankfully the bus came then, cutting short our conversation. Rion loved bus trips. He usually watched everyone and then bombarded me with a zillion questions afterwards, but this time he seemed all thoughtful and quiet. He hardly said a word, even when we got off the bus and headed to the bowling alley.
Once inside, though, the clatter of rolling balls, the buzz of people laughing and talking, and the piped in music seemed to shake him out of his trance.
His eyes lit up. ‘This is … cool,’ he said.
For once he got the word right. Sort of. Except I wouldn’t exactly call a bowling alley cool.
There were far more people than I’d expected, and even though there weren’t many my age everyone looked like they were having fun. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
We got the Hot Dog Bonanza, which included two games of bowling, shoe rental, and a hotdog, chips and a drink. Seemed a pretty good deal to me, and I noticed Mr Clean and Green didn’t comment on the unhealthy snacks.
We went to our alley and sat down to put on our bowling shoes, which of course smelled absolutely feral. I looked down the long alley with the ten pins lined up neatly at the end. Then I looked at the heavy bowling balls. How on earth was I going to manage to get one of those balls down the alley, let alone knock anything over?
Let’s be honest, I wasn’t exactly into sport. Partly because it bored me silly, and partly because I wasn’t all that coordinated. I didn’t mind a leisurely swim at the beach or the pool, but that was about it. I wondered what Rion would be like.
Of course he knew the rules of scoring and everything.
‘I’ve spent some time researching this game,’ he said, as he tied his shoelaces neatly and stood up. ‘I’m reasonably confident about the scoring, and I’ve also researched a few techniques and tips on how to bowl. Shall we begin?’
‘Sure, I’ll go first,’ I said, wanting to get it over with. I grabbed a ball that seemed to weigh a tonne, and walked to the top of the alley.
‘Find your mark by using the arrows, not the pins,’ he instructed. ‘And because you’re right handed, aim to the right of the middle arrow.’
I tried to follow his instructions. Yep, eyes on the arrow.
‘Now swing your arm back and then forward. Make sure you only release the ball when your arm’s all the way to the front. Remember to keep your eyes on the target. Seems quite simple, really.’ Rion sat down again and folded his arms to watch me.
I did everything he said to do, or at least I thought I did. But maybe my arm just wasn’t strong enough. Despite my best efforts, the ball kind of dropped from my grasp and rolled in a zigzag movement down the alley, stopping about three-quarters of the way down.
‘Did you even listen to what I said?’ Rion said.
I turned on my heel, annoyed with the ball but annoyed equally with him. ‘It’s not that easy, you know.’
My next ball was no better, ending up in the gutter.
Rion got up. ‘Clearly I’ll have to knock your ball out of the way.’
Clearly. I sat down to watch the master.
He looked very confident, I had to give him that. He walked up to the balls and lifted one, testing its weight in his hands. Then he took his position, with his legs slightly apart, his knees bent and his back tilted forward. Checking his grip on the ball, he swung his arm backward and then forward. The ball dropped and actually bounced before promptly rolling into the gutter.
‘Bad luck,’ I said. ‘Did you keep your eye on the arrow?’ I couldn’t resist it.
He gave me a look of total surprise. ‘I can’t believe it. I did everything according to the instructions. What happened?’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe it’s not quite as easy as it seems on the internet.’
‘Something must’ve been wrong with those instructions. But I looked at several websites.’
Even though he’d only been in human form for a short time, Rion loved computers and he especially loved the internet. He thought every word he read was absolutely true.
‘Maybe we just need more practice,’ I said.
He nodded doubtfully. ‘Maybe.’
Maybe I should’ve said a lot of practice. After a few attempts we eventually got the ball to stay in the lane and actually travel all the way down to the pins.
When he knocked over a couple of pins, I got up and cheered. ‘Good work!’ I cried, putting my hand in the air. ‘High five.’ He just looked at my hand, puzzled. ‘Come on, you do the same thing,’ I said.
When he cautiously raised his hand, I grinned and slapped it with mine. ‘That’s what you do when you congratulate someone about something they’ve done well.’
Part of his mouth went up in a crooked smile.
By the end of the first game, neither or us had managed to do more than knock down a few pins. ‘We should try for a strike,’ I said casually, ‘or even a spare.’ Rion raised his eyebrows. ‘Yeah, well, you’re not the only one who can use the lingo,’ I said, ‘but next time remember, actions speak louder than words.’
Now Rion looked embarrassed, but I decided to let him off lightly. ‘I think it’s time for a snack,’ I said.
Rion looked at the hotdog. ‘I don’t even want to think about what goes into this.’
‘Then don’t.’ I took a bite of mine. ‘Oh, that’s sooo good.’
He took a
cautious bite and smiled. ‘It’s not too bad, although I’m sure it’s not good for me.’
‘Rion, you think entirely too much.’ I picked up a chip and dipped it into the tomato sauce.
He looked puzzled. ‘But isn’t that the whole point of life, to think?’
Boy, did he have a lot to learn. ‘Sometimes it’s good just to be.’
‘Hmm, okay.’ He took another bite. ‘I think I can manage this.’ And manage it he did. He finished his hotdog, ate more than half the chips and downed his Coke. Then he gave a little burp.
I giggled.
‘What’s so amusing?’
‘You. You know, Rion, you’re not so bad when you forget to think.’
‘Is that a compliment?’ He looked pleased.
‘Absolutely. Now let’s get stuck into this second game. I’m determined to get a strike and beat you.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ Rion scrunched up his paper cup, aimed at the rubbish bin and threw it in perfectly.
‘Show-off,’ I said.
He grinned. ‘Yes, absolutely.’
The second game was much better. I didn’t get a strike, but I did get a spare. I did a little dance and gave a whoop. ‘I am sooo going to beat you,’ I said.
Rion’s eyes crinkled up and he laughed. ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ He got up, took a ball, aimed and then bowled a perfect strike.
I couldn’t help it. I jumped up and down, and then ran over and gave him a hug. ‘Wow!’ I said.
After a microsecond he hugged me back, and I have to admit it felt kind of good. For a moment it felt like Rion was a real person, and I’m sure it was because for once he seemed to think he was, too.
‘That was so awesome,’ I said. And then I took a step back.
Rion looked at me with shiny eyes. ‘You think so? You don’t mind that it was me rather than you?’
‘Nah,’ I said, ‘we’re a team. I’m just glad one of us got a strike.’
The rest of the game went quickly, and it was kind of fun because neither of us cared who won. Rion even stopped keeping score.
