Conrad Cooper's Last Stand ePub (9 page)

On the way home from school, I stop at the corner dairy. Last night I found forty cents while I was cleaning down the back of the couch, so I buy myself an orange-flavoured K-Bar, which leaves me with twenty cents. Brilliant.

Leaning over the counter, I stare at rows of one-cent lollies in clear plastic squares. ‘Can I have two milk bottles, one of those spearmint leaf thingies, a milkshake lolly – no, sorry not one of those, can I have three blackballs … wait, make it two … and … oh, how many have I got so far?'

Mr O'Connor sighs behind the counter, I dunno why. Maybe he's tired.

‘Hey, Conrad.'

I turn around and see Suzie standing behind me, a Secret Seven book stuffed under one arm, her yellow school bag poking over her shoulder like a rising sun. She grins and rips open a packet of Wrigley's chewing gum with her teeth.

‘Oh, hey, Suzie.'

‘What're you up to?'

‘I'm going home to build my forest.'

‘Um, sorry?'

Mr O'Connor stuffs my lollies into a paper bag, takes my coins and says a very loud goodbye. I head out the door with Suzie and say, ‘Well, not build it exactly. But I thought I could grow one behind the compost. Soil should be good there, right?'

It also helps that Mum won't see it straight away.

Tane, we both know making a forest is important, so it's got to be better than good, right? Hundreds of years from now there could be trees and families will come for bushwalks and say, Thank goodness Conrad Cooper made a national reserve. I expect everyone will say that on account of how humans will be living in space by then, just like
The Jetsons
, and they won't have trees on Mars.

It's a pity Mum can't always see the big picture.

Suzie blinks and pulls a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘How're you going to do that, exactly?'

‘With seeds, of course.' I would've thought that would be obvious, but maybe Suzie isn't so smart. She's never been in my class, so I dunno if she puts her hand up first for questions, or copies her answers from the girl next to her. These things tell you a lot about a person.

‘Okay,' she says slowly. ‘
Why
would you want to grow a forest?'

I explain about Tane and she blinks a whole lot more. Then she says, ‘Well, I was going home to watch
Thunderbirds
.' She nods across the street at a house with a red gate, at the foot of Bastion Point. ‘But I guess I could help.'

‘Sorry?'

‘You can't grow an entire forest on your own.'

I'm not so sure. ‘Tane did.'

‘Yeah, but you're not the god of the forest.' She laughs and pokes my shoulder. ‘Trust me, you're going to need some help.'

It turns out Suzie is pretty clued up. She's got heaps of good ideas – like pulling an apple core out of her lunchbox and planting it near the pohutukawa seeds. I add some little branches I found on the school field and she wrinkles up her nose.

‘What're you doing with sticks?'

‘Mum does it sometimes; she gets clippings off plants and pokes them into the ground. They grow.'

‘Uh, I dunno if that works with every little twig …'

‘It
will
work.'

‘Okay, keep your hair on.' She looks at our forest and it's not very big, but we've gotta start somewhere.

At least Gaz isn't around. I wouldn't be allowed to have Suzie over for a start and secondly, I don't know how he feels about forests. It's best not to ask, that way he can't
ban tree planting on my star chart.

Then Suzie asks, ‘What about birds?'

‘What about them?'

‘Well,
duh.
They eat seeds. How're you going to keep them away?'

‘Oh, right … we could make a scarecrow, to frighten off the birds. But if we do that, um …'

‘What?'

‘My parents will see it.'

‘Is that a bad thing?'

‘I dunno how they'll feel about me growing a forest in their backyard. Mum's more into gardens and Gaz … he doesn't like mess.'

Not that my forest is a mess, but I can see how all these twigs might give the wrong impression. Suzie pulls her hair again and does this weird thing where one eyebrow slides down but the other stays straight. I've never seen anyone frown like that before. She goes, ‘Can I ask you something?'

‘Yeah?'

‘Do you like Gaz?'

Suddenly I'm feeling a bit overheated. Maybe it's the sun. I should probably take off my jacket. ‘Um, yeah … why?'

‘I dunno.' She pats the soil down over the seeds, like she's afraid they might jump out of the dirt and get away. ‘It's just a guy from the doctor's office asked Mum
out and, well, I got to wondering what it might be like. You know, to have a stepdad.'

And, just like that, goose bumps pop out everywhere, down my back and arms. Maybe the sun went behind a cloud; this weather is nuts. I look sideways at Suzie and she's watching my face. Thing is, she's not nosy or anything, she really wants to know. ‘Um, well I don't remember my real dad, but Gaz is … uh …'

I screw up my face, trying to explain him without bad-mouthing. No one has ever asked me if I
like
Gaz. I mean he's my parent, I'm supposed to love him. But I don't know about liking him. I've never really thought about it. Do I get a choice?

‘Is he nice?' She pulls on her ponytail.

‘Well …' I try to buy myself time, reaching out a hand to straighten one of the twigs. But Suzie keeps her eyes glued on me, waiting. ‘He tells good jokes; he – he likes things very tidy. He doesn't like a lot of noise and he – he uses heaps of tomato sauce.'

‘Oh.'

She's frowning; I can see I'm not being very helpful. ‘Look, all dads would be different, right? But Gaz is okay. Most of the time he leaves me alone, so long as I do what he says.'

When I say the words out loud, I've got to admit they sound weird. Her eyebrow slides a little lower. ‘Um, everything he says?'

‘Pretty much.'

‘Oh.' She pulls on a blade of grass, ripping it in half. ‘Give me some examples.'

‘Well, he's got rules about stuff like hanging towels straight and tying my shoelaces so the loops are the same size. He's also got rules about washing up; I've gotta dunk all our cups in the sink three times,
exactly
, to make sure they're clean.'

‘Oh.'

She looks worried, so I explain, ‘It's okay, rules are really helpful. That way you know what you're supposed to do all the time and you don't make any mistakes.'

‘But what happens if you break a rule?'

‘Um … I dunno. It's never really happened. But if I get ten stars in a row, Mum buys me a treat.'

‘What does Gaz give you?'

‘Nothing. I mean, I don't get in trouble – that's how it works.'

‘So, your reward is
not
getting into trouble?'

‘Well … sort of.'

Okay, if that eyebrow keeps dropping, it's going to fall off her face. I try to explain, ‘Mum says dads are supposed to be disciplinarians. It's – it's what they do. He just wants me to get everything right.'

She's staring at me now and both eyebrows are down. ‘And you
like
that?'

‘I, uh …'

Man, what is it with this girl and
liking
things? No one's supposed to like being told what to do, they just
do
it. But now she's got me wondering … do I like Gaz?

I'm not allowed to say bad things about Gaz, even if I wanted. I've never even said them in my head. But I still haven't answered and Suzie's looking at me funny, so I blurt out, ‘
Scarecrows
.'

‘What?'

‘We still need something to scare off birds.' My brain races so fast, I'm lucky it doesn't trip over. ‘Uh … wait!'

She blinks, her eyebrows sliding back into their proper place. ‘Yeah?'

‘Stay here, I've got an idea.' I race inside and get my school bag, ignoring Mum who's already offered me orange juice
three
times. She never does that normally, just tells me to help myself out of the fridge. It might have something to do with the fact that Suzie's a girl.

I run back, carrying a torn-off page from my writing book. Suzie watches me beside the compost pile, using one hand to block out the sun. ‘What's that for?'

‘Hang on, I'll show you.'

I pull out a pencil and draw a cat's face with opened jaws, making sure the teeth look extra big and sharp. Then, I pin the page to the ground under two rocks. ‘Is it too scary?'

She cracks up laughing.

I explain, ‘Well, I don't want to give the birds a heart attack or anything. Tane's pretty keen on birds and insects, I think he invented them or something. But only the ones living in trees and forests, I don't reckon he'd make time for seagulls.'

‘Here, let me have a go.'

She takes the pencil out of my hands and draws a picture, but won't let me see until she's done. Then she sticks it under the rocks, next to the cat.

‘Um, Suzie? That's a picture of our principal.'

‘Yeah.'

‘What's he wearing … is that a ballerina's tutu?'

‘Yeah.' She grins. ‘It ought to scare off the birds – it freaks me right out.'

I have to smile, even though I don't know how birds feel about principals, or tutus. She wipes her fringe out of her eyes and says, ‘Well, what about the birds?'

‘Sorry?'

‘Shouldn't you be protecting the birds, too? I mean, they're Tane's favourite animals. I bet you've got loads of cats around here.'

‘Um …'

You know what, Tane, I didn't think about that. Would that get me extra points? But how do I go about it? Pity I'm not like St Francis, I'd just explain to birds that cats are bad news and to watch their backs. But I can't, so I'll need to be clever … Hmm.

I smooth the edges of the paper and ideas bang around inside my head like trapped butterflies. ‘Let's see … you can train dogs, but can you train cats too?'

‘I dunno, I've never had one. Maybe it's the same with humans. Mum says she's training me to be tidier around the house.'

‘How?' I scratch my head. ‘I don't think star charts would work for a cat.'

She just looks at me for a second, and then we both crack up laughing.

‘Hey,' she snorts, ‘how many stars do you think a cat needs until it earns something nice, like a wind-up mouse?'

‘You know what?' I tell her. ‘I think I've had an idea. I'm going to train all the neighbourhood cats to
not
eat Tane's birds.'

‘Yeah? How?'

‘I'm not sure yet.' I lean over, take the pencil and start scribbling on the page. ‘But I've got a few ideas.'

‘You've always got good ideas.' She grins and her fingers wrap around the ponytail again, like a fistful of sunlight … Uh-oh.

Her smile widens, ‘What're you staring at?'

‘Uh …'

My pencil stops, my fingers freeze. I think she's pretty – what does that mean? Am I supposed to ask her out? Trouble is, that won't last. She and Jasper only went out
for half a day. But I want to keep Suzie around longer; maybe build forts down in the gully and hang out on weekends.

Just to be very clear, I say, ‘Hey, Suzie … you want to be
friends
?'

‘Idiot.' She punches my arm.

‘What?'

‘We already are friends.'

Oh.

I never thought being punched was a good thing. But now? I quite like it.

Mum and Gaz wait in front of their dinners, but it's okay. The kitchen clock's just gone six; I'm not late.

Mum says, ‘Where've you been?'

‘Um, out playing.'

She nods. I don't mention that I've been trying to train cats. It hasn't been easy, and I keep my sleeves down so no one notices the scratches. Anyway, I'm not sure how Mum would take it, seeing as I'm not supposed to talk about Tane in front of Gaz. She shrugs and pushes a bowlful of potatoes at me, saying, ‘Well, eat up before it gets cold.'

I drop into my chair and start shovelling corned beef into my mouth, but Gaz says, ‘What've I told you about those shoulders? You need to keep them back.'

Dunno what he's talking about, but he drops his knife onto the tablecloth, which is weird 'cause he hates leaving mustard stains. ‘Right. Wait here.'

He's out the ranchslider in two seconds flat.

Mum calls after him, ‘Gaz …' but he doesn't come back.

‘What's he doing, Mum?'

‘No idea.' She stabs her vegetables, keeping one eye on the open door. The cabbage on her fork looks soggy and tired. Yuck.

So I sit there, waiting. Did I do something wrong? My elbows are off the table, I didn't talk with my mouth full … And then, Gaz comes back through the door carrying a towrope.

‘Found this in the garage. Here, sit back in the chair, Conrad.'

He's already got the rope around my chest, like a lasso, pulling it tighter. I look at Mum who says, ‘Gaz, I don't think you should …'

‘Take it easy, I'm just tying him in. Shoulders back, kid.' He pulls tighter, breathing down my neck. The rope tugs against my T-shirt, pushing me into the chair.

I hear him fussing with the ends. ‘There, how's that?'

‘Um, it's not very comfortable.'

Gaz circles the table, frowning, like I'm getting smart. Well, he did ask.

Turning his head to one side, he says, ‘It's not about comfort, we're correcting your posture. Can you move your arms?' I stretch my hands out; I can just reach my knife and fork. He runs a hand over his head and nods. ‘Right, good enough.'

Good? I feel like a dog, tied up.

Mum says, ‘I don't know …'

Gaz drops into his seat with a thud. ‘You want him to have a crooked back all his life?'

‘No.' Mum bites her lip.

‘Well, then.'

So we sit there for the rest of dinner, with me tied to a chair. No one talks much, except when Gaz says, ‘Conrad, pass the salt down.' I just look at him, 'cause my arms would need to stretch another metre just to reach, and he cracks up laughing.

Wiping his eyes, he says, ‘It's for the best. My old man was strict too, but you'll see. Discipline builds character.' He waves a fork in my direction. ‘And a good spine will last you a lifetime. You'll thank me one day.'

I seriously doubt that.

I'm sitting here, pulling against cords, trying to poke food into my mouth. I've got a feeling like a silent storm rolling around in my chest, stabbing bolts of lightning into my ribs. Everyone stares right in front of themselves, so I fix my eyes on the patterned wallpaper, shaped like tiny vases and think … and think … I do
not
like Gaz.

There, I said it.

Not out loud, of course. But it's a
loud
thought and I'm surprised he doesn't hear, but everyone keeps on chewing. With every mouthful, my hand pulls against the rope, rubbing into my wrist. I think it again, and again, and again.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't like him.

The ceiling doesn't fall in, the walls don't crash to the ground. Nobody tells me off. It's my own private thought and no one can stop it.

Mum carefully puts her knife and fork on the plate, and opens her mouth. ‘I –'

Gaz says, ‘
Don't
.'

She closes her lips quickly, swallowing. ‘I was just going to say, the meter guy was here today …'

And they start talking about power bills, but I don't listen. I'm too busy pulling and thinking and my stomach rises up like a wave with every thought. It's noisy inside me, but when I ask for tomato sauce, Gaz hands it to me without looking, his eyes on Mum. My stomach settles down, kind of relieved.

Oh … that's it.

The thoughts in my head grow excited, like they're having a party and inviting others to join in. They tell me things like –
See, he never looks at you. What did you tell Suzie about star charts? Gaz gives you nothing – and that's your reward.

It's true. I don't want him to notice me. Bad things might happen. He notices when Mum makes mistakes, and he gets angry – but not me. I do everything he says and I'm invisible. But I
like
being the bush at the end of our drive, it's easier. Unless, could there be another way?

Tane!

I know I asked you to sort out my family, but I'm changing my mind. I still want Mum to stop crying, but – what if Gaz is our problem? Not his work, protestors, Mum or even me. If that's the case there's only one way to fix my family, Tane. We'll have to get rid of Gaz.

Nicely, please. Don't push him off a cliff or anything. I bet there's loads of jobs in the South Island. Maybe you could find him a job taking care of forests or in the freezing works. My first dad left, so why can't this one?

Look, I know it's a big ask. But don't worry, I'm earning my points. I'm going to save loads of birds and start a rainforest. Talk about being extra good, that's like a million gold stars on a chart, right?

Gaz coughs. ‘What're you staring at, Conrad?'

I say, ‘Nothing,' and he goes back to ignoring me.

It's best he doesn't know I've just asked the god of the forest to get rid of him. He might take it badly. So I sit there chewing corned beef and trying not to grin. Gaz won't be around much longer, he just doesn't know it yet.