Bleakboy and Hunter Stand Out in the Rain (2 page)

2

HUNTER

Hunter Riley looks out the window. It's raining. Again. He quietly slides the window open and leans as far out as he dares. Raindrops wet his hair, roll down his cheeks and drop from his chin onto the corrugated iron roof. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, like a dog under a sprinkler.

From a gum tree near the fence comes the cackle of a kookaburra. Hunter opens his eyes, startled. He spies the bird in the highest branch. The kookaburra ruffles the rainwater from its feathers and opens its beak wide, as if yawning.

‘At least you don't have to go to school,' Hunter says.

The kookaburra tilts its head and looks down into the garden. Hunter follows its gaze. A lizard scurries under a rock to safety. Hunter looks back at the bird. Their eyes meet.

‘Ha!' says Hunter.

The rain falls steadily. Water streaks down Hunter's cheeks but he keeps his head out the window. The bird swoops along the roof line past Hunter and flaps away to a distant gum tree.

Hunter hears footsteps outside his door. He retreats into the room and climbs back into bed, rubbing his hair on the sheet.

He sees the doorhandle turn and quickly closes his eyes.

The door creaks. Hunter keeps his eyes closed, but knows his mum has entered the room. Ever since his dad left, she comes and looks at him sleeping. A raindrop runs down his cheek. In the quiet of the morning, he's sure he can hear her sigh. He keeps very still until she walks out of the room and gently closes the door.

After dressing into his school clothes of blue pants and a red skater shirt, Hunter walks downstairs. He stands at the kitchen doorway spying his mum sitting at the table. She stares at a bowl full of apples, oranges and pears. One banana sits on top, smiley faced. An ant crawls along the skin of the banana. She reaches toward the insect and with one finger blocks the ant's progress. The insect stops, then tentatively moves toward her long fingernail. She smiles. The ant creeps onto her finger. She stands and walks to the back door, opening it quietly.

Hunter walks into the kitchen and watches his mum on the back verandah. She leans down to a row of pot plants and places her finger close to the leaf of a basil plant.

‘Everyone likes basil,' Mrs Riley says to the ant. She sighs and looks up at the rain still falling.

Hunter switches on the kettle for his mum's morning cup of tea. He scoops two spoonfuls of tea-leaves into the pot and when the jug boils, carefully pours the water to just below the spout. Enough for two cups, just the way Mum likes it.

He walks to the cupboard for a bowl and spoon, plonks them on the table and sits, reaching for the Weet-Bix and milk.

‘Good morning, Hunter,' his mum says as she enters the kitchen.

Hunter spoons half a Weet-Bix into his mouth. ‘It's Monday, how can it be a good morning,' he mumbles, a dribble of milk running down his chin. He doesn't bother to wipe and it drips back into his bowl.

‘But you like school, dear.'

‘Ha!'

‘A boy should like school,' she adds.

‘Ha!'

‘Thanks for the tea,' she says. She takes a sip.

Hunter finishes his cereal. He looks at the packet of Weet-Bix, considering. Instead of another helping, he picks up the bowl and carries it to the empty sink. He opens the fridge door and stares inside.

‘I've packed your lunch box, Hunter. It's already in your bag.'

‘Peanut butter?' he asks.

She nods. ‘And an apple.'

Hunter closes the fridge door.

‘Don't forget to clean your teeth,' she says.

‘Why?'

‘So you'll smell fresh.'

‘I'm not kissing anyone!' he says.

‘For dental hygiene, so your teeth won't fall out when you're old,' she says.

Hunter doesn't answer and walks back upstairs.

‘Ha!' Mrs Riley says, to no-one in particular.

3

jesse

The five mudbrick buildings of Kawawill School nestle at the foot of a long bush track. Each of the buildings is painted a different shade of ochre. In the bush surrounding the school there are swings and cubbyhouses and a climbing gym. There is no sports oval. The only grass is in the central area between the buildings.

Students are dropped at the top of the hill by parents or buses and we wander four hundred metres down the track to the school grounds. At the end of the track is a sign with a ‘Thought for the Day' handwritten on it.

This Monday morning, I'm standing in front of the sign. It reads:

Kind words are the easiest to speak.

A voice booms behind me, ‘EMO!'

‘Hi, Hunter,' I say, without bothering to turn around.

‘Whoa! Emo the Emu has eyes in the back of his head.' Hunter slaps me on the shoulder. He reads the sign and then glances my way. ‘That's bull. I can just as easily call you,' he looks at my clothes, ‘the Black Assassin as I can call you Emo.'

‘Or Jesse,' I suggest.

‘Now why would I bother calling you by your real name, Darkman?'

‘Hunter, you are an endless font of meaningless names,' I say.

‘You said it, Bleakboy.' Hunter looks me up and down once more, as if he's storing away another twenty nicknames for lunchtime, then he walks into Doris.

I don't mean he walks into a person called Doris. Doris is the name of the administration building, in honour of the founder of our school Doris Leadmeir. The primary building is Arnold, named after Doris's husband, who designed the school layout. Doris and Arnold, the people, are both long dead, but the buildings live on. The other buildings are: Edith, the kindergarten building (Edith Bricknell was the first kindy teacher); Lillian, the high school building (Lillian Roche was the woman who donated land for the school to be built on); and finally, Walter, the toilet block (Walter C Cuthbert was the first school janitor).

The teachers tell us to use the names of the buildings, to remember the founders. The school doesn't have a principal. Each year, one of the staff is elected by their fellow teachers as the team coordinator. This year it's Larry Ames. Teachers must be addressed by their first name. Larry, never Mr Ames.

And here he is now. Larry walks up the path, wearing three-quarter length bushwalking pants and a ‘Greenpeace' t-shirt. He's also wearing sandals, which, strictly speaking, students are discouraged from wearing. Because of snakes. Larry isn't scared.

He stands in front of the sign, takes off his floppy hat and bangs it against his knee, as if a nest of spiders is hiding under the brim.

‘Hi, Larry.'

‘G'day, Jesse.' He nods at the sign. ‘That's my slogan. Pretty good, hey?' He doesn't wait for an answer as he heads off to the high school. Sorry, I mean Lillian.

Suddenly, dance music blares over the PA system, which means it's time to go to class. Each month, a different class gets to choose the music. This month it's year four. Next month it's year nine, so I'm hoping for a serious headbanging metal attack. I'm not sure how Larry will respond. He may write a ‘Thought for the Day' to counteract all the harsh vibes the music will give out.

‘Hi, Jesse,' says Kate, a girl in my class with curly black hair and braces.

‘Hi, Kate. Thanks for not calling me Emo.'

Kate looks around quickly for Hunter before leaning close and whispering, ‘Hunter is a turnip.' Kate adds, ‘Did you do your personal assessment tasks?'

That's what we're supposed to call homework.

‘Yep. I read a book on the bell frog and drew a picture of it. What was your topic?'

‘Whales.' Kate winks. ‘I've taken a slightly different approach.' She leads me into our classroom in Arnold and we take our seats near the front. The rest of the class are already seated, except Hunter. He's sitting on the window ledge. He makes a gloomy sound at the back of his throat when I walk in, like the theme music to a horror movie.

He's about to say something when Sarah, our teacher, walks in.

‘Good morning, Class 6S,' she says.

‘Good morning, Sarah,' we respond together, except Hunter. He times his greeting to be half-a-second behind, like an echo.

Sarah flashes him a tired look and he slowly sits down on his chair. She stands in front of the class and says, ‘Okay. Let's have a selection of readings from your personal assessment tasks.'

I raise my hand.

‘Yes, Jesse.'

‘I didn't write anything, Ms, I mean Sarah. I just drew something.'

Sarah smiles. ‘No worries. We'll have a selection of readings and displays of your tasks. Who wants to start?'

Everyone raises their hands, except Hunter and me.

‘Anastasia first,' says Sarah. She walks to the side window and leans against the ledge, facing into the room. She smiles at Anastasia, who stands and picks up her glasses from her desk. She puts them on before reading her story. Her voice is distant and rhythmic, like the sound of a train going over a bridge.

Anastasia's story is about a girl finding an injured marsupial bilby in the bush and nursing it back to health. In the story, the main character is called Anastasia and she learns how to communicate with the bilby. They live together in the forest and eat mushrooms and mangoes. One day while foraging for food, they meet a handsome young man called Justin B.

Anastasia blushes, before continuing with the story.

Justin B is a reclusive pop star who's made his home in the forest to escape the thousands of young girls who scream outside his Malibu apartment. Together, Anastasia and Justin B write a song called ‘One less lonely bilby'.

When Anastasia finishes her story, everyone applauds, except Hunter who coughs loudly.

Sarah looks up. ‘Are you all right, Hunter?'

Hunter grins. ‘I think I need to go to Walter.'

Sarah nods and Hunter walks out of the room, singing, ‘I'm off to Walter, Walter the toilet block'.

‘That's enough, Hunter,' Sarah calls after him.

‘No worries, Sarah.'

He's left the door open. Without thinking, I get up to close it.

‘Thanks, Jesse.'

‘That's okay, Sarah. Can I lock it as well?' The class giggles, but Sarah smiles and says, ‘We're inclusive, remember Jesse?'

‘Would you like to go next, Kate?' asks Sarah.

Kate stands and confidently walks to the front of the room. She looks at everyone in the class, smiling at me, and in a loud voice, begins, ‘My story is about whales'.

‘Ooh, they're so beautiful,' says Skye, from the second row.

Kate ignores her. ‘Whales are mammals that live in the ocean. They range in size from the giant blue whale to the much smaller pygmy sperm whale.' Kate looks up at Sarah. Sarah nods.

Kate continues, ‘The common minke whale is the main species hunted and killed by Japanese and Norwegian whalers. Hundreds are slaughtered every year.'

‘SARAH!' yells Skye.

‘Whale meat is high in protein and is lower in calories than beef and pork. It also has a much higher iron content and is rich in—'

‘Kate?' Sarah's voice is quiet.

Kate stops reading and looks at the teacher.

Skye starts sobbing, although I suspect she's just pretending.

‘I thought the personal assessment task I designed,' Sarah says, ‘was for us to appreciate the gift of nature. You appear to be talking about eating a—'

‘Beautiful animal!' Skye interrupts.

Sarah takes a deep breath. ‘Skye. Remember our guidelines about calling out in class.'

‘But she's eating whales,' Skye responds.

‘Not in class she's not.' Sarah shifts her focus to Kate. ‘May I ask why you chose this topic, Kate?'

At this very moment, Hunter walks in and strolls past Kate.

‘Some animals—' Kate starts.

‘Who you calling an animal?' Hunter turns and interrupts.

‘We were talking about whales,' says Sarah, waiting a few crucial seconds before adding, ‘not you.'

The class laughs.

Hunter scowls at us all, trying to pick who he'll pay back at lunchtime. I almost burst a lung holding my breath to stop giggling. But his eyes settle on me.

‘I love whales,' Kate looks meaningfully at Skye, ‘but they're eaten by native communities in Norway and Canada.'

‘And the Japanese?' Sarah asks.

Kate smiles. ‘Actually, Sarah, whale meat is eaten in Japanese schools.'

The class shudders as one. Our canteen, housed at the back of Lillian, serves only vegetarian food. Monday's speciality is tofu burgers.

‘You haven't really answered my question, Kate,' continues Sarah, her voice taking on some of the Skye-anguish. ‘Why did you choose this topic?'

‘Animals are eaten, whether we like it or not.' Kate looks toward the class for support. Everyone looks away except me. ‘Even beautiful animals like whales and fur seals.'

This is too much for Skye. She scrapes back her chair and runs out of the room, doing a Hunter and leaving the door open; open and gaping like a wound in a minke whale caused by a harpoon.

Kate continues, as if she's read my mind. ‘The traditional native hunters use harpoons—'

‘Okay, that's enough.' Sarah walks quickly toward Kate. ‘Kate, I appreciate your alternative view of the beauty and gift of nature, but perhaps I'll read your personal assessment task alone at lunchtime.'

‘Make sure you've eaten first, Sarah,' suggests Hunter.

Sarah ignores him, takes the paper from Kate and ushers her back to her seat. She asks Eoin to stand and read to the class.

Eoin stands
on
his chair.

Everyone laughs. He looks around the room, smiling.

‘Why are you standing on your chair, Eoin?' asks Sarah.

‘My dad says soundwaves carry further if they aren't interrupted by stuff.'

‘Thank you for the physics lesson, Eoin. Your dad is correct, but let's just stand on the floor, shall we?' Sarah looks sternly at Lance in the back row, who is still giggling. Lance coughs once and falls silent.

‘You may begin, Eoin,' says Sarah.

‘My story is about a boy called Eoin who lives with the chimpanzees of Africa. Eoin learns to talk to the chimps and they swing from tree to tree in the jungle. Eoin builds a treehouse high in the forest …'

And so it goes until lunchtime. The gift of nature.

And then tofu burgers.