One Dead Seagull (5 page)

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Authors: Scot Gardner

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I
looked
at
the
floo
r
.
What
do
I
say?
Sor
r
y? Hope
you get
better
soon?
Y
ou’ll
be
right;
they’ll
probably
cut
you
open
and
find
a
fart
that
you
hung
on
to
back
in
1965
still
stuck
in
your
guts.
Those
little
material
masks
won

t
save
the
surgeons
from
the
smell.
I
almost
laughed.

He
jammed
his
hands
into
his
pockets.
‘Thank your mum
for
the
message
she
left
on
my
machine.
T
ell
her
I’ll call
as
soon
as
the
shit
has
settled.’

I
ha
d
neve
r
hear
d
hi
m
swea
r
before
.
Las
t
year
Mr
Dobson got
in
big
trouble
with
Richo
for
‘taking
the Lord

s
name
in
vain’.
Now
he
said
he
had
to
go
and
he
led me
to
the
door
with
a
hand
on
my
shoulde
r
.

‘See
you
late
r
,
W
ayne.’

He
closed
the
doo
r
,
locking
himself
inside
the
empty
office.

Mr
Johnson
was
leaning
on
the
reception
desk
talking to the office lad
y
,
Fa
y
.
He
shot
me a
dagger
and I wanted
to
jog.
Y
es,
Si
r
.
I’m going,
Si
r
.
He
can
make
you
feel
like
an
arsehole
just
by
looking
at
you.
Doesn

t
have to
do
anything.
Doesn

t
have
to
say
a
word.
He

s just
a cranky
old
ball-bag.
Imagine
being
his
wife
or
his
kid.
It’d
be
like having
one
of
those
Rottweilers
from the car-wrecking
yard
in
your
lounge
room.

The
bell
rang
and
I
felt
like
a
losing
boxer
must
at
the
end
of
a round.
No
more
weird
Richo
and
no
more
Johnson,
just
English.

 

I
had
been
running
so
late
that
morning that
I
hadn

t eaten
breakfast.
I
didn

t
get
a
chance
to
eat
my
Milo
bar
at
recess
or
in
English,
so
when
lunchtime came
around
I could
have
eaten
a
fried
cock
y
.
I
grabbed
my
lunchbox
and
bolted
for
the
common
room.
I
had
made
spaghetti
sandwiches
from
T
uesday

s
leftovers.
The best.
I
was
stuffing
the
last
bit
of
my
third sandwich
into
my
mouth when
a
worm
of
spaghetti
escaped
and
landed
on
the
back of
my
hand.
Sucking
the
worm
into
my
mouth
made
a
lot of noise
and
Mandy
Masterson
flopped into the seat opposite
me
right
in
the
middle
of
it.

‘Sounds
like
you’re
enjoying
that,’
she
said.
My
face
got
hot
and
I
nodded.

‘Piglet,’
she
added
and
laughed.

I
laughed
too,
but
I
didn

t
want
to
be
a
piglet.

‘Did
you
hear
about
Richo?’

I
shook
my
head.
Her
dark
eyes
flashed
and
her
face shifted
into
a
cheeky
smile.


Y
ou
remember
Kylie
Simpson?’

I
nodded.
Kylie
left
year
twelve
last
year
because
she
was
pregnant. It
was
another
good
scandal
at
Chisholm
High.


W
ellll,’
she
said
and
wriggled
closer
so
she
could
keep her
voice
lo
w
.
Her
blonde
locks
tickled
on
the
back
of
my
hand.

T
urns
out
that
she
and
Richo
were
having
a
bit
of
a..
.
you
kno
w..
.
and
Richo

s
the
father
of
her
bab
y
.’

I
almost
gagged.
What
a
load
of
bullshit.

‘Really?’

Mandy
nodded.
‘Emma
and
Che
r
yl
were
talking
to
Fay
in the
office
and
they
could
hear
Mr Johnson
on
the phone.
Got
the
whole
sto
r
y
.
Pretty
sick,
huh?’

Nup.
It
was
like
saying
this
square
peg
fits
in
that
round hole.
Mr
Richards
just
isn

t
like
that.


Y
eah
.
Prett
y
sick,

I
agreed
.
Th
e
appetisin
g
arom
a
o
f
my
lunc
h
ha
d
gone
,
no
w
tha
t
Mand
y
vanill
a
smel
l
wa
s
giving
m
e
a
n
erection
.
I
wante
d
t
o
freez
e
th
e
moment
.
Then Che
r
yl
,
Emm
a
an
d
anothe
r
on
e
o
f
thei
r
mates
,
Cindy Fanshawe
,
cam
e
int
o
th
e
roo
m
an
d
th
e
spel
l
wa
s
broken.
Mand
y
sho
t
u
p
lik
e
a
frightene
d
ca
t
t
o
joi
n
them
.
The
y
sat
aroun
d
a
n
orang
e
tabl
e
an
d
share
d
thei
r
lunches.

I
found
Dennis
at
the
smokers’
corne
r
.
I
love
scaring the
shit
out
of him
and
the
others
by
pretending
I’m
hai
r
y Mrs
Kneebone
come
to
book
them.
I
shared
the
last
of Den

s
smoke
and
told
him
the
gossip
about
Richo.

‘What
do
you
reckon?’
Den
asked.


W
ell,
I
think
there
are
two
options.
It

s
either
bullshit
or
.
.
.
it

s
bullshit.’

H
e
laughe
d
an
d
agreed
.
Ker
r
y
stuc
k
he
r
hea
d
around th
e
corne
r
o
f
th
e
buildin
g
an
d
aske
d
he
r
brothe
r
i
f
he ha
d
an
y
mone
y
.
De
n
du
g
a
handfu
l
o
f
coin
s
ou
t
o
f
his
pocke
t
an
d
gav
e
the
m
t
o
hi
s
siste
r
.
Sh
e
ble
w
hi
m
a
kiss
the
n
vanished
.
I
though
t
brother
s
an
d
sister
s
were
suppose
d
t
o
hat
e
eac
h
othe
r
an
d
caus
e
a
s
muc
h
pai
n
as
possible
?
W
eirdos.

 

I
remembered
my
dream
and
ran
after
Ker
r
y
to
tell
her
about
it. She
listened
intently and
was silent
for what seemed
like
ages
standing
next
to
Carly
in
the
canteen
line.
She
bought
a
pack
of
plain
chips
and
orange
juice
then
suggested
I
sit
with
her
on
a
seat
in
the
quadrangle.

‘It

s
like
a
big
authority
issue
for
you,’
she
began.
‘The
men
in
suits
are
like
authority
figures
in
your
life.
I
guess they’re
pretty
harmless .
.
.
armless
..
.
get
it?’

I
nodded
and
took
a
chip.

‘It

s
like
they
are
still
in
positions
of
power
in
your
life but
they
can

t
hurt
you.
The
slippe
r
y
mud
thing
is
about you
being
out
of
control.
Someho
w
,
it

s
saying
you
are
out of
control
and
the
men,
the
authority
figures
in
your
life,
they’re
going
to
get
you.
Maybe
they
were
t
r
ying
to
help?’

‘Could have
been,
but
it
felt
like
they
were
t
r
ying
to
catch
me.’

She
shrugged.
‘Maybe
it
means
something
different.’

I
thanked
her
and
grabbed
a
handful
of
chips.
She kicked
me
in
the
shin
before
I
could
get
awa
y
.
The
dream still
didn

t
make
any
sense.

 

Dennis
shot
out
of
the
room
like
a
burning
budgie
when the
final bell
rang.
I
yelled
after
him but
he
was
on
a
mission.
He
was
waiting
at
the
bike
shed.

‘I’m coming
with
you,’
he
said.

W
e’ve
got
to
wait
a
minute
though.’

‘What
for?’


Y
ou’ll
see
.
.
.’

He
flashed
me
a
dark
smile
and
I
told
him
I
was
going.
He
pleaded
that
I
wait
for
another
minute. He
said
it
would
be
worth
it,
then
he
jumped
on
the
bars
and
whispered
for
me
to
get
going.
T
o
Game
Zone.
So
,
gullibl
e
m
e
rod
e
u
p
Garriso
n
Stree
t
wit
h
my
supposed
best
mate
sitting
on
the
handlebars
and
the chinstrap
of my
helmet
swinging
in the
breeze.
Den looked
back
and
urged
me
on.
I
was
already pedaling
like craz
y
.
He doesn

t
realise
how
hard
it
is
to
ride
with
him
on the
bars.

Then
they
were
on
us.
Griz
and
his
mates,
pushing
us
and
jeering
as
they
rode
past
at
a
hundred
k

s
per
hou
r
. Pic
Hopkins
slapped
the
back
of
my
helmet and
it
shot
off my
head
and clattered
to
the
footpath.
I
slammed
on
the
brakes.
Den
shot
off
the
bars
and
stumbled,
but
stayed
on his
feet.

‘Come
on,
W
ayne. Just
to
the
top
of
the
hill.
W
e
can watch
from
there.’

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