End of the Alphabet (7 page)

Max kept his head down. He did as he was asked, but never anything more. He didn’t sulk, but he didn’t talk to any of us if he didn’t have to. Mum went around looking as if she’d cry if you touched her. She didn’t talk about work. Calvin asked her one night where the pay talks were at.

She just rubbed her head. ‘Oh, I think we’ll be going on strike.’

She hadn’t talked about it for ages. Max was all she could worry about. I felt bad. It was kind of my fault, except that it wasn’t. Not really. I’d just started the whole thing.

No, actually, I hadn’t. Max had started it when he’d stage-managed the kids into my little room. If he hadn’t done that, I would never have stood up for myself. That didn’t make me feel any better. Poor Mum — I wished I could make it all better. I couldn’t. Neither could Calvin.

When I wasn’t thinking about the Max situation, I thought a lot about Brazil. The exchange kids would be here in less than a fortnight. At school, the orchestra had practices. The choir had practices. The kapa haka group had even more practices.

The tickets for the social went on sale on Thursday. I decided not to go. Nobody would dance with me. I would sit around all night with my face aching from pretending to have a great time. Megan had to go because all the kids who’d been chosen for next year’s trip had to go. At interval, she said, ‘You guys better buy your tickets tomorrow. Just in case they all sell out.’

I told her I wasn’t going.

‘You’ve got to come,’ she gasped. ‘Please, Ruby!’

‘Come on, Ruby, it’ll be fun. The band’s awesome: I’ve heard them before,’ Carly said.

Tia glared at me. ‘Get some backbone, girl.’

I glared back. ‘I bloody have got backbone and it’s telling me not to do something I don’t bloody want to. So there!’ I jumped up and walked away.

I could feel their eyes following me. I kicked the grass. I’d love to go to the stupid social. I’d love to dance and dance and have a brilliant time. But I was
not
going to sit around yet again smiling a huge, fake smile while other people had a brilliant time.

After interval, in English, Tia whispered, ‘You okay?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah. Sorry I yelled.’

But I wasn’t okay, not really. Why couldn’t I do the things I wanted to do? I thought about that as I went to pick Davey up. The Brazil trip. They hadn’t chosen me. But I was going to go anyway, so that didn’t count. The money was growing in my new bank account.

But the Portuguese lessons weren’t going so well. Davey got bored with them and it was hard to get enough time by myself. The CDs were due back at the library next week.

The social. The hot, crying feeling built up behind my eyes. Socials were crap. Nobody ever asked me to dance. Not ever.

I can dance anyway
. Where had that idea come from? But I could — I could go out onto the middle of the floor and I could dance. Megan, Carly and I could dance together. Tia could dance with us if she didn’t manage to find a hot Brazilian boy. Knowing Tia, she’d go up and ask one of them to dance.

I could do the same.

Just thinking about it was enough to make my feet tingle. I walked faster, stamping to calm them down. But I could. I slowed down again. I knew how to say
please
in Portuguese. I could go up to one of the Brazilian boys and I could say four words in Portuguese. I could say
Excuse me, sir, please
and then I’d have to say the rest in English.

He would laugh at me.

Somebody would tell Max that I’d asked a boy to dance and that he’d turned me down.

But I found I didn’t care about what Max said. I used to care. I used to be proud he was my brother. When he collected an armful of prizes at the end of every year, I always clapped the hardest.

I got to Davey’s school. He saw me and came running over. ‘Can I stay, Ruby? We’re playing.’

I sat on a bench and watched. He was with a group of about six boys. I looked for Cat, but she must have gone already.

I kept thinking about the social. I wanted a life. The old arguments started up in my head.
You can’t read. You can’t write. Stick to what you’re good at. You’ll fall flat on your face if you try new things.

I shifted on the hard bench and watched Davey. They were playing four square. He was getting good.

For the very first time ever, I argued with the voice in my head.
If I do fall flat on my face, at least I’ll know I’ve tried.

It blabbed back,
It’s too scary. You can’t. You’re stupid, remember? They’ll all look at you.

Shut up. Just shut up. I’m the girl who stood up for herself with Mr Vine. Remember?

The social. I tried to picture it in my mind. Could I really walk up to a boy and ask him to dance? I swallowed. My gut tied itself in knots even thinking about it.

But I wouldn’t have to ask a boy. I could dance with my friends. Well, not Tia because she would definitely ask a boy to dance — probably a Brazilian boy.

By the time Davey and I went home, I’d made up my mind. I would go to the social. And I would try to have a good time.

The next day, when we were waiting for Mr W, I said to the girls, ‘Okay. I’ve changed my mind. I’ve got my ticket money.’

Megan cheered and hugged me. Carly said, ‘Good.’

Tia said, ‘Excellent! Come to my house and we’ll get ready together.’

I’d done it now. I would have to go.

There was a whole week to get through first. Six days of getting up at stupid o’clock, but sixty more dollars to put in the bank. The floor of the superette was changing colour now that it was getting washed regularly. It wasn’t dirty grey, it was a light blue. I finished wiping all the shelves, so I started at the beginning again.

Mr Vine never spoke to me, so I sang as I worked. Mick always said hello when we passed on the footpath. Sometimes we had time for a bit of a chat. He said his wife’s name was Sarah and they had two kids, a boy and a girl.

Max made sure he didn’t talk to any of us more than he had to. I waited for Mum to crack.

The girls and I stressed about what to wear to the social. I had a fight with Tia about the skirt she wanted to wear with the red top.

The Brazil kids arrived on Thursday morning. Tia was out of class because the kapa haka group had to be at the powhiri to welcome them. The sound of singing floated on the warm air, in through the art room windows. The song the Brazilian kids sang to respond to the waiata had a catchy rhythm. I hoped they’d sing it again that night at the concert.

They did, and they performed too. Some of them danced the salsa. Others did what their teacher said was capoeira. That was pretty freaky. Two of them did it together and it looked like they wanted to kick each other to death. But the flying feet never touched the other person. At the end they shook hands.

‘I sure hope I don’t have to learn that,’ Megan whispered. ‘I like the salsa though.’

The kapa haka kids were brilliant. We leapt to our feet and cheered when they finished. Tia had the biggest grin on her face. Mr T would be proud of them.

After the orchestra and the concert band and the choir, we had the speeches. I went into the daze I used for assemblies. Then a girl from Brazil stepped forward and took the microphone. She was gorgeous — long, dark hair and dark, snapping eyes. She wore the capoeira gear — white trousers and a white top. She smiled at us. We sat up. She demanded our attention and she hadn’t even said a word. How did you do that?

When she spoke, I didn’t understand anything she said. The words flowed in a twisting, turning ribbon of sounds I couldn’t begin to understand.

So much for the Portuguese CD lessons.

Megan and I left the hall. Tia and the other performers stayed for supper. I wondered if she’d decided yet which guy to dance with at the social.

Megan’s dad dropped me home.

The social was tomorrow. I ran inside the house. It would be okay. It really would. I hoped.

I was rushing around getting ready to go to Tia’s when Mum asked Max if he was going to the social.

He didn’t even look at her — just kept walking through the family room. ‘Not if
she’s
going.’

She growled at him. I kept my mouth shut and wished things were different. I was glad I was going — scared, but glad. It was good that all four of us would be at Tia’s to get ready. I wished I could go over there now, but it was too early.

Carly arrived at Tia’s in a dead heat with me. Megan was already there.

We had an hour before we had to leave. I didn’t have a chance to get nervous — what with doing our make-up and hair, arguing yet again with Tia over which skirt she should wear and laughing as we fell over each other.

To settle the skirt question, Tia put her choice on, then the one I said she should wear. ‘Which one?’ she demanded.

Carly waved her mascara brush at her. ‘Whichever you want — the black one makes you look like a pumpkin with legs, but suit yourself.’

That finished the argument. Tia put on the flirty skirt with the line of red sparkles above the hem. ‘Sensational,’ Megan said.

‘Humph,’ said Tia.

I wore white. It was all stuff I’d found in op shops and I’d altered it to give it class. The girls stared at me when I got dressed.

‘Where did you get that top?’ Carly yelped. ‘I want one.’

I grinned. ‘The Sally Army shop.’

‘The skirt too?’ Tia demanded.

I shook my head. ‘No, that was the hospice shop.’

‘It looks a million dollars,’ Megan sighed. ‘My stuff is all wrong — I should’ve asked you, Ruby.’

Tia snorted. ‘Lucky you didn’t. She’s so bossy. Get dressed and let’s see.’

We made Megan turn around so we could study her from all angles. ‘It’s not bad …’ Carly said.

‘More of a town skirt than a social skirt though,’ Tia said.

She was right. The denim mini made Megan’s blue halter top look casual and almost as if the two garments were a uniform. She looked ready to cry.

‘Wear Tia’s pumpkin skirt,’ I said. ‘It should look great on you, and the colour will be better too.’

Tia threw it at her. ‘Take it. Anything to get Ruby off my back!’

The skirt sat lower on Megan’s hips and the proportions were better on her because she was taller. The black looked great with her top.

Carly whistled. ‘Magic!’

I grinned, and Tia laughed. ‘Okay — keep it. You look fantastic.’

It was time to go. I didn’t have even one butterfly in my gut, but by the time Mr Manu dropped us at school, a whole herd of them were flapping around.

This was not a good idea. I could be at home, playing Twister with the kids. That stiffened my backbone — I didn’t want to always stay home and play with the kids. I held my head high and walked into the hall.

The Brazilian kids were already there. Nobody was dancing but the band was setting up. Tia said, ‘Come on — let’s go and talk to them.’ She charged off without waiting to see if we followed.

Carly said, ‘Not me. I like boys who can talk English.’ She darted off and joined Wiremu, Zeke and Niles.

Megan and I looked at each other. What now? ‘There’s chairs over there,’ Megan pointed to the wall. ‘Let’s go and sit down.’

We were almost across the hall when I stopped. ‘No, let’s not. If we sit there now, we’ll stay there all night.’ The music started and the floor filled with bodies. ‘Let’s find Carly, and we’ll all dance together.’ I started walking before I could chicken out. Megan followed me to where Carly was trying to talk the boys into dancing.

‘Look at them,’ she said, disgusted. ‘They’re too scared to dance!’

Megan’s face brightened. ‘It’s easy. Look — I’ll show you.’

And that was the start of my brilliant evening. I didn’t dance with a boy from Brazil. I didn’t ask any boy to dance. But I danced all night. I felt like Cinderella before midnight. I felt like those twelve princesses who danced holes in their shoes. The three of us danced in a group with Wiremu, Zeke and Niles. Sometimes Maisie and Amanda joined us. Even Tom managed to stand up and jiggle for a couple of songs. ‘Didn’t think you’d come,’ I shouted at him.

He pulled a face. ‘Mum made me. Said she’d sell my computer if I didn’t.’

Tia danced her way through our group every now and then. Always, she had a different Brazilian boy with her. Always, they were both laughing and looking as if they were having the best time.

I probably looked the same.

The hours flashed past. I couldn’t believe it when they announced the last dance. Now I understood how come Cinderella forgot to watch the clock.

Calvin was waiting outside to take us home. ‘Good dance?’ he asked.

‘The best,’ I sighed. ‘It was such fun.’

And tomorrow was Sunday. I didn’t have to get up at stupid o’clock.

The next week was the last one of the term. The Brazilian kids joined their billets for classes on Monday but we didn’t have any of them in our lessons because their billets were all Year 11 kids.

On Tuesday morning we waved them goodbye as the bus drove them off to visit Rotorua and the mountains. Tia looked very pleased with herself.

On Wednesday after school, Davey and I went into town so that I could take the Portuguese CDs back. I’d learnt a few words, though nothing that helped me understand anything the Brazilian kids said. But seeing them, watching them dance, watching them play capoeira and hearing them talk — all that had made me more determined to go to Brazil.

We dropped the CDs off at the library. Davey had brought his pocket money. He wanted another truck poster. We were wandering along the street when we saw Cat and her mum. Cat had her arms folded and she was leaning against a car. Her feet were jammed against the gutter. She shook her head. ‘No.’

Davey ran up. ‘Cat! I’m going to buy a truck poster.’

Cat jumped onto the footpath. ‘I go with Davey.’

Her mother ran her hands through her hair. ‘Catarina! You cannot do that. You must come with me. I’m sorry, but you have to.’ She smiled at me. ‘I have to go to the hairdresser. She won’t come.’

‘Boring,’ said Cat.

I smiled at her mum. ‘We’ll be in town for a bit. She can come with us, if you like.’

‘Good,’ said Cat.

Her mum glanced at me, then at Cat and then at her watch. ‘You are an angel! Thank you. I will finish in an hour — will that be all right? I can take you home.’

‘Cool!’ said Davey, admiring the car.

‘We’ll be back here in an hour,’ I said.

She handed me a twenty dollar note. ‘Please — buy yourselves something to eat. I don’t want any change.’ She pushed it at me and ran for the salon a couple of doors up the street.

‘Okay, troops,’ I said. ‘Davey’s poster first, and then food.’

When the hour was up, we went back to the car. Cat’s mum came out of the salon a few minutes later. She came straight to me and hugged me. ‘I was right — you are an angel.’

On the way home, she said, ‘Ruby — have you got time to stop at the park? The children can play and I have something I want to ask you.’

Even if we didn’t have time, I was too curious to refuse.

When the kids were making themselves dizzy on the round-about, Cat’s mum turned to me. ‘First, let me introduce myself. My name is Maria Oliveira. My husband, Lucas, is a wine maker and I work in town.’ She smiled at me. ‘My job is in IT — sometimes I cannot get away in time.’

I smiled back. She was going to ask me to stay with Cat if she was late. It wouldn’t be a problem.

She waved a hand at Cat. ‘You saw today how stubborn she is. She is to go to child care next week. I have to work in the holidays, you see. But she refuses to go.’ She sighed. ‘I could make her. But — when I saw you, and saw how happy she is when she is with you, I wondered …’ She paused to smile at me. ‘Would you come to our house, Ruby? Monday to Friday during the holidays?’ She told me what she would pay me.

I gasped. Such a lot of money! But I couldn’t. I shook my head. ‘I’d love to. I really would, but I have to look after Davey. Mum works too and we can’t afford child care for him as well as Theo — he’s nearly four and he goes to day care anyway.’ I tried not to think about the money I was saying goodbye to. I tried not to think that Max could look after Davey. He wouldn’t and Davey would be miserable if Mum made him do it.

Mrs Oliveira nodded at the kids. ‘They play happily together. Would your mother let you bring Davey too? I would like Catarina to have a friend here.’

And so it was arranged. Cat clapped her hands all the way to our house. Davey did too. Maria — she told me to call her that — laughed and said, ‘Are you sure about this, Ruby?’

But I was sure. I had a holiday job. My Brazil fund was about to get very fat.

Davey and I waved them goodbye. ‘Come on, buddy — we’d better motor. Calvin and Theo will be home in a few minutes.’

He raced me into the house.

There was a note on the table.