by Ben Chambers
I just sat for a while, listening to all the shuffling and banging coming from the other room. I couldn’t see what was going on, but it sounded pretty crazy. Then Cindy came back in to the living room. Her hair had gone a bit frizzy, and her singlet was all messy and scrunched up to the side, so that I could see about half of her bra. It was red, my favourite colour. Except black, that is.
“Not in there,” she said, and she started looking through all the stuff in the living room then. She was opening boxes and pushing stuff aside and tipping things over. She was making a real mess. It was very kind of her to go to so much trouble for me.
“How’s university?” she said. She knew I was at university and studying history. “You must be finishing soon, right?”
“Yeah, I have one more year.” That was a lie, though. It was meant to be my last year then. It’s just that, every time someone asks me, and I tell them that I’m finishing this year, they always ask me what I’m going to do after I graduate. And I hate trying to answer that. It’s always so awkward, because I don’t know what I’m going to do. So I never know what to say to them. So instead, I just like to say that I’m finishing next year. Then, if they still ask me what I’m going to do afterward, I can always say that I’m not sure yet, because I’m still just focusing on getting through my studies.
But Cindy was really good; she didn’t even ask me any more about it. She just said, “That’s cool.” I like Cindy a lot, actually. She’s always so easy to talk to. She never asks me hard questions.
Then I said to her, “I’m thinking about dropping out of university.” I sort of thought that maybe it would be better, instead of changing my last paper, just dropping out of my degree all together. Then it would be all done, and I wouldn’t have to worry any more. I don’t really know why I said it to her though. Usually, I try to avoid telling anyone about that kind of stuff. But I sort of felt like talking to her about it. She stopped for a second then and looked up at me.
“Really? Why?” Then she went back to looking through all the mess. I was glad that at least she wasn’t staring at me and waiting for an answer. Most people stare at you. It’s much easier to talk about something if nobody’s looking.
“Well,” I said. “The thing is that I’m having a lot of trouble lately. I’m just not interested in any of my papers. And I can’t seem to do any of the work. The thing is that I just don’t have any passion for it any more. I sort of did in my first year, a little bit. But not anymore. But that’s not so bad. I suppose I could still do it, even if I wasn’t interested, if I tried really hard. But the problem is that I’m only studying a history degree. And that doesn’t really do anything. It’s not a practical degree.” I sure was talking a lot. But Cindy was good. She just kept listening while she was looking for my bag with the bird and the grapes on it.
“I mean, you can’t really get any jobs with a history degree. It’s not like engineering, where you can be an engineer. Or chemistry, where you can become a scientist. There aren’t really many jobs for a history degree, so I don’t even see the point.”
Then Cindy said, “Franny, I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can find your bag. To be honest, I could have thrown it out ages ago. I really have no idea, but I don’t think I’ll be able to find it.”
I was kind of glad she didn’t say anything about my degree. It felt really good to tell someone about it, but I didn’t want her to start talking about my degree to me, in case she made me feel bad for wanting to quit. She came and sat down next to me. She smelled quite nice. I think I could see her sweating just a little bit, probably from all the searching, and she was wearing this perfume that I could smell. I can’t describe it, though. It’s very hard to describe a smell. But it was very pleasant.
“Here’s the thing,” she said. “And look, I’ve never been to university; you know that’s not my kind of thing. So you can tell me to shut up if you want to. But I don’t think university is really about what sort of degree you get. All it really is, is one big test. It’s just one big goddamned test. And at the end, if you make it through, you come out with a degree. Just a piece of paper that says you passed. Ninety percent of the crap you learn will never have an application once you leave, that’s the truth. But it’s just something you have to go through, so that you can prove to people that you know what the hell you’re doing. You can flash that degree in an employer’s face, and maybe they’ll hire you. There’s definitely no guarantee, but it certainly helps your chances. Then, once you get your foot in the door, you can actually start learning something useful. University is mostly crap. About the only good thing it can do is it can help you learn how to learn. If you’re surrounded by the right people, in the right environment, that can go a long way to helping you develop as a person. There are other ways of doing that, sure, but a university education is about the best way to start.”
I didn’t really understand everything she was saying, but I understood some of it. And I suppose it did make sense. I just leaned over and gave her a hug and said, “Thanks.” It felt like the right thing to do. She hugged me back too, which was nice. Then I stood up. “I better get going.”
“No problem. I might just make something to eat before I head back to work. Do you want anything?”
“No thanks.” She walked me to the door.
“Sorry about your bag. But if I find it, I’ll definitely let you know.”
“That’s okay. I don’t really care about the bag too much.”
She opened the door for me and stood in the doorway as I went out. Then, as I was about to leave, she said, “Hey, do you still play the piano much?”
“No, not really,” I said.
“Yeah.” She looked quite sad. “Me neither.” Then she shut the door.
Chapter Fifteen
I started having this strange thought. I was thinking about when I used to do dance when I was a small girl. I mostly did ballet. I tried some other dancing, like jazz, but I didn’t really like it that much. I mostly just liked ballet. I actually mostly liked all the outfits you would get to wear. I certainly liked my normal tutu that I wore to practice, but what I liked most were the costumes you got to wear for a proper dance recital. One time our dance school did a performance of Peter Pan. And I myself even got to do the lead role, as Peter Pan! I know it might sound quite funny, a girl playing Peter Pan, who is meant to be a boy. But the thing is that our dance school was only for girls, so we didn’t have any choice. You see, I had a very smart idea to get the lead role. I was very clever. When I heard that we were going to do Peter Pan and that we were going to have tryouts in a week to decide who gets what role, I had an idea. I went home that night and went into my room. But before I went into my room, I sneaked into the kitchen and got a pair of scissors. I knew for sure that if I had short hair, like a boy, I would get to be Peter Pan definitely. So what I did was that I secretly cut off a lot of my hair while I was in my room. I was so excited, because I wanted to be the lead in the performance. But I didn’t have a mirror in my room when I was little, so I couldn’t really see what I was doing too well. I just did my best to cut my hair like a boy. Then, after my parents had gone to sleep, I sneaked into the bathroom to see how it looked. But it was very funny. The second I saw myself in the mirror, I started crying. I cried so loud, I even woke my parents up. I was suddenly so upset that I didn’t have long hair any more. I hardly even looked like a girl; I was so upset. I didn’t even know why I wanted to cut it in the first place. My parents came into the bathroom and when they saw me, they were very surprised. I think maybe they thought I was someone else for a moment. I told them that it was only me and that I had cut my hair. They had a big talk to me then about how I shouldn’t cut my hair like that. But I didn’t hear them really, because I was still crying. I cried the whole night in my bed. Then the next day, they said I had to go to a hairdresser’s to get it properly cut, since I didn’t do a very good job. It was all lumpy when I did it. I remember I even asked the hairdresser if it wa
s possible to put all my hair back on. The hair was all still in the bin at home, and I asked if I went home and got it all, if they could put it back on. But they said they couldn’t. I was a silly little kid back then, I didn’t really know too much about hair.
But then when I went back to dance next week, I showed my teacher my short hair and told her that I had cut it just for Peter Pan. I wasn’t too upset about it anymore by then. And then she said I could be Peter Pan! It was probably the most fun performance I ever did, too.
When I was thinking about that, I kind of felt like visiting my old dance teacher, Margaret. I sort of wanted to talk to her about something. I suddenly had this very appealing idea. I had this thought that maybe I could go visit Margaret and ask her if she could give me a job working for her. She still runs her ballet academy, and she employs quite a few people there. I thought I could ask her if I could work for her and teach all the little girls to dance ballet. I wouldn’t have to worry at all about my essay if I was just working for her.
Margaret is quite a nice lady. I hadn’t seen her in a few years, but I thought she would still remember me. We used to always visit her once or twice a year. Me and my mum and my dad would get invited over to her house now and again. She would always throw these dinner parties, and she would invite us. She loved doing fancy things like throwing dinner parties and cooking a lot of very nice food for all the guests. I remember having a lot of fun going to those things when I was little. She would always make everyone wear fancy dresses and suits and things. The boys would have to wear suits and the girls would have to wear dresses. She would say it was like an old-fashioned dinner party. I used to love those things when I was little, because I could dress in all these pretty pink dresses. Or sometimes white. And wear my mum’s jewellery and makeup and things. I used to love all that stuff. I don’t really like it very much anymore though. I think it’s kind of silly, getting all dressed up like that just to eat dinner. I’d rather just wear a black t-shirt and some jeans or something.
I thought I better give Margaret a call to ask her if I could go and visit her at her home. I normally would have just gone to the dance studio to see her, but it was Sunday, so it was closed. But I had been to her house quite a few times, so I figured she wouldn’t mind if I visited her.
I walked down the main road, looking for a pay phone. I found one quite quickly. There seemed to be phones all over the place. I had to hunt through my bag for some coins to pay the telephone with. I found some right down the bottom of my bag. I put them into the machine and went to type in the phone number. Although I only just remembered that I couldn’t remember her phone number. I tried to think from my mind what it was, but I couldn’t. I was very annoyed, because I didn’t know how to call her. And then I was even grumpier, because I had put all my coins in the phone box. I decided to leave.
I started walking along the road. I figured maybe I could just go to her house, even though I couldn’t call and ask. I knew exactly where it was, and I could get there myself. I thought maybe it was a bit rude to just show up like that. But I decided to go anyway. I didn’t know what else to do.
I caught the bus there. I was so sick of buses by then. I normally take a lot of buses anyway, but in the last few days, I had taken even more than that. She lived in this quite nice house. She had this big hedge all along the front of her house. I always thought that hedge was so cool. It protected you from everything around you. Annoying neighbours and strangers and things. I want a hedge one day.
What I really want is a big Gothic house. It would be all dark colours, like black and purple and maybe some really dark red. It would have a big iron fence and a big hedge around it. Then when you go through the rusty iron gate, the yard would have all sorts of statues and gargoyles and things around it. It would be very creepy and very cool. I always wanted to have a big house like that, and I could be the ghost that lived in it. I’d just be this very pale ghostly girl who would never come out during the day. Then, sometimes at night, people could see a figure through the windows of the house. But they couldn’t really tell who or what it was, because it would be too dark. And they might think it was a ghost. The house would have this great bell tower on the very top, and sometimes I’d be up there, and you could just see the outline of me. And people would point up and say, “Look, the ghost!” and then run away because they were so scared. The thing is, though, I would actually be a very friendly ghost, not a scary one. But people wouldn’t know that, and that’s just the way I wanted it. Because then they’d stay away from my house and I could have some peace and quiet.
Margaret’s house was up on this steep slope, so you had to go through this gate and then walk up quite a lot of stone steps to get there. I could see some lights on in her house, so I thought she must be home. She lives by herself there. She used to be married, but she got divorced a few years ago.
I knocked on the door. It took quite a long time for anything to happen. But eventually I heard some footsteps, and then she opened the door. She looked quite old. I hadn’t seen her in some years. But I was so surprised when straight away she said, “Franny, is that you?” I had been kind of worried she wouldn’t even know who I was any more.
“Yes, Margaret, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here?”
I actually forgot why I was even there. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. But then I was glad she said something instead.
“Oh, I don’t meant to be rude,” she said. “It’s great to see you.” Then she stepped out and hugged me. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Sorry. I tried to call you, but I forgot your phone number.”
“That’s quite all right. What can I do for you?”
I still didn’t even really know what to say to her. All I mostly said was, “Uhm.” I was being a very bad talker just then. But then I said, “I just thought I would visit you for a chat.”
She sort of smiled a bit when I said that. “Well, that sounds fantastic. Why don’t you come inside?” She sort of took me by the shoulder and guided me inside. She certainly did have a very nice house. I had forgotten how big and fancy it was. It was this very old-fashioned house with a very nice entranceway. It even had a big chandelier hanging over your head as soon as you walked in. All the house was made of very pretty old wood.
I walked into her living room. I still remembered where it was. It was the very first door on the left when you went inside. And when I went in, there was this little black dog that started waddling over to me. It was Millie! I knew that dog straight away. I remembered her from years ago! She was sort of barking at me, although it was a very pathetic little bark. She was this very old very slow dog, and so she couldn’t bark very well any more. She wasn’t so old when I saw her last time. She walked all the way over to me, where I was standing at the side of the living room and sat down next to my legs. I bent down and patted her. She was very old and warty now, and she didn’t smell very clean. But I liked her a lot. She was so sweet. I remember every time when I used to come over and have dinner at Margaret’s house, Millie would always come and sit by me. Even when we were at the dinner table, she would come and sit right in between my legs, under the table. I would always reach down and pat her secretly. But I would never give her any of my food. My dad told me not to do that.
Margaret had this very funny painting right above the fireplace in the living room. It was a huge painting of her with Millie sitting in her lap. I always thought it would be so strange to look at a painting of yourself all day. Then Margaret came in behind me and told me to please sit down. So I sat down on one of her couches behind this little coffee table. She sat in this armchair opposite me, with this very good posture. She always sat perfectly straight up.
“So how are you, Franny dear?” she said to me. “I haven’t seen you in…” She was thinking for a moment. “In four years?”
She said it like she was asking me a question. I didn’t know if I was supposed to answer it or not though. I didn’t
know how long it had been. So I just said, “Yes. I’m sorry it’s been so long; I’ve been very busy.”
“That’s quite all right. So have I. Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?”
Millie had followed me over to the couch and was sitting between my legs and wagging her tail. I gave her another little scratch on the head, and she shuffled even closer to me when I did that.
Then Margaret said, “I suppose you know Robert and I separated.” I just nodded when she said that, but I’m not sure if she saw it. She was looking down a little bit. Then she looked up. “But how are you now, Franny?” She already asked me that, but I didn’t want to point that out to her. “Are you still at university? I remember running into your father a couple of years ago, and he told me all about it.”
I didn’t really feel like getting into that whole conversation, so I just told her yes and then quickly changed the subject. I asked her how the ballet academy was going.
“It’s wonderful as always,” she said, and she looked at me very warmly now. “Every year, the girls are always complete darlings.” She looked very happy when she started talking about it. “You’ve heard that we’ve now had three girls accepted into the royal academy, have you?”
I shook my head. I didn’t really keep up with that sort of stuff.
“Yes, it’s been so exciting. Just last year Matilda Perkins moved out there. I can’t wait to hear from her next to see how it’s all going.”
