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Authors: Catherine Bateson

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BOOK: Rain May and Captain Daniel
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‘It's not that,' I said. ‘It's just good being back, you know. The weekend was okay but it's great to be home again.'

Maggie's soup was garlicky and full of beans and we ate it in front of the fire in the back room while we looked through the Spotlight catalogue for curtain material. We told each other about our weekend, but I didn't tell her about Julia's four hundred and fifty dollar coat or about me putting her off buying a striped jumper and a denim skirt. And I didn't tell her about Julia and Dad having a spa bath together.

I told her instead about the market and how it had made me think about shopping with her, and she said maybe we'd try to get down every so often and stock up on exotic food. I told her about the shops and how there was absolutely nothing in them, and she said she'd have to drag out her old sewing machine and teach me to sew. I told her I liked Thai food and we should go out to our Thai restaurant sometime, to celebrate something, and she looked pleased. And finally I told her about the zoo, the happy bears, the little meerkats with their quick dodging heads and the shambling orangutans.

And then, because it was cold and we'd missed each other, we snuggled up in Maggie's big bed and read to each other from Maggie's special book of fairy tales, where all the princesses make friends with the dragons and ride off on their golden backs so they can find new lands to conquer, in a kindly way, leaving the princes at home with the washing-up and the babies.

‘Which is a little silly,' Maggie said, ‘because although I wouldn't mind a dragon ride, I wouldn't want to leave my baby behind.'

‘Why can't they do both?' I asked. ‘Why couldn't they take the baby on the dragon?'

‘Maybe they do,' Maggie said. ‘When they've made sure the new lands are suitable for babies, maybe then they whizz home quickly, kiss the prince goodbye and grab the babies.'

‘Why can't the prince go, too? Why can't they ring the prince from the new land and the prince packs up the babies, grabs another dragon and flies off to join the princess?'

‘Because the prince was scared of dragons,' Maggie said. ‘Remember?'

‘If I wrote it,' I said, ‘I'd put a plane in. That's what I'd do. The prince could follow her with the babies in a plane. They'd land and she'd meet them at the airport in a taxi and they'd live happily ever after.'

Home Again Rain

celebrate

cake

pie

champagne
she is home
my melon baby
wild green girl
my other heart
my daughter

The Captain's Log, Stardate 011001

First day back at the Training Academy. I warned Lieutenant Rain not to associate too closely with me. She didn't listen.

‘They'll get you,' I said. ‘They'll get you because they hate me.'

‘You're my friend, Daniel,' she said, ‘I'm with you.'

Old Khan put Rain at my table. Which is the last place you'd want to sit if you had a choice. The best table, the star table, is Tom's. He's an average student but good at everything else. He, Oliver, Michael and Craig aren't rocket scientists by any means, but out in the playground they're officer material and you'd better not forget it. Head of the girls is Tom's twin, Becky. They're not identical. She's bright but pretends not to be. That gets me with girls. Why do they do that?

Even the Counsellor — a dab hand at cupboards and fixing things — gets in a flap about filing. Why can't she just say, I'm great at making cupboards and putting up tree-houses? That's what they always tell me to do. Concentrate on your best assets, she and the Doctor say, not on what you can't do. In my case this means everything other than thinking.

Rain should have been put with Becky. They'd probably get on.

Did Khan think he was doing Rain a favour putting her on the losers table? I think he actually thought he was.

‘Rain,' he said. ‘Rain, what an interesting name.'

‘I'm named after a poem,' Rain said, ‘by e e cummings. Have you ever heard of him?'

‘Yes, yes I have. An American poet.'

‘He didn't use punctuation or capital letters in his work,' Rain said, ‘and people thought he was strange.' ‘You must bring in a poem of his one day,' old Khan said. ‘I can see why you and Daniel have become friends.'

At snack time Becky said, ‘Well, there go the Double Drips.'

The minute I heard it, I knew it would stick. The Double Drips. Very funny, ha ha.

‘So what do you do at snack time?' Rain said to me, turning her back on Becky and the rest of the girls.

‘It's not too late,' I said. ‘You could just kind of walk over, talk about the city, a clothes shop or something. They'd be friends with you.'

‘I don't want to,' Rain said. ‘I think they're horrible.'

Kids made dripping noises at us all day. When we walked home, even the preppies had caught on. A couple plipped and plopped behind us nearly all the way home.

‘Want to do something?' I asked her. ‘Do you want to have a game of chess?'

‘No thanks, Daniel,' Rain said. ‘I think I'll just do my homework, watch some television. I'm feeling a little down.'

‘They'll get over it,' I said. ‘You'll become part of the furniture.'

‘See you tomorrow,' she said and gave the smallest wave.

The Doctor was called out just before dinner — a bad fall. So the Counsellor and I ate dinner together and I asked her what she'd do if she felt she had caused someone to get an undeserved reputation.

‘Just as a matter of curiosity,' I said.

‘Well,' she said, ‘I wouldn't like myself much if I stood by and let someone be put in prison for something they didn't do.'

It's funny how she automatically goes for the worst thing you could think of.

‘Not like that,' I said. ‘Suppose that by, I don't know, being someone's friend, you caused them not to be liked by other people.' That was a little too close to the truth but I kept my fingers crossed.

‘That's an interesting question,' the Counsellor said. ‘People do get judged by their associates, don't they? And to some extent, it's fair enough. People with common interests tend to gather together.'

She went on and on. That's the problem with asking adults anything — they ramble on and never get to the point. Hours later I finally got to read
Lord of the Rings.
Dad wants me to finish it before I see the film. I'm going to learn Elvish when I finish it. I think that could be very useful for secret messages.

The Captain's Log, Stardate 021001

Stormy weather, alien interference.

I hate fourth term. The star table stole my hat at snack time and wouldn't give it back. Rain marched up and demanded they hand it over. The result was predictable. They wouldn't.

Rain got angrier and angrier and went to grab the hat. Tom held the hat behind his back and when Rain tried to grab it he pushed her. She pushed him back and then suddenly they were scrabbling about in the grass, kicking and shouting.

We all had to see the Principal. Rain and Tom were called in separately. Then I went in as one of the eye-witnesses and the chief cause. I told Mrs Crisp as clearly and concisely as I could what had happened.

‘Do you feel you are a victim of playground bullying?' Burnt Toast asked.

‘Well, not in this instant,' I said. ‘It was Rain who was the victim.'

It's the hat, of course. I know the school's policy is for wide-brimmed hats but only preppies, girls and Daniel Gill wears one. The boys wear caps. They get into trouble for it every day but that doesn't stop them. A hat, even one bought from the surf shop, which is where the Counsellor bought mine, isn't cool.

‘I hate school,' Rain said, kicking stones all the way home. ‘I hate it. It's vile.'

‘Are you going to tell Maggie?'

‘You bet! She might be able to think of something. Don't you tell the Counsellor?'

‘She'd worry,' I said. ‘Anyway, nothing changes. I'm just who I am, that's it and they don't like it.'

‘I think you're being stupid,' Rain said. But that's your business.'

I meant to tell her how sorry I was that she'd got herself into all this just because of my dumb hat, but she ran off into the house before I had the chance.

The Captain's Log, Stardate 041001

Things are worse. Someone wrote Daniel ♥ Rain on the whiteboard. Rain said she didn't care.

‘I will not have this silly girlfriend boyfriend stuff in my class, do you hear?' old Khan said, glaring straight at me as though I'd write something like that up for everyone to see.

I don't feel so well. I think this term's got to me already.

Drips, Bullies and Mr Beatty's Platypus

‘School sucks,' I told Maggie, ‘and this school sucks most of all.'

Maggie was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her palms resting on her knees. She was looking up at the ceiling but her eyes were closed. She had found a yoga class. I banged my bag on the floor and she hardly winced.

‘Daniel and I are victims,' I said. ‘Honest, Mum.'

Her eyes opened and she lowered her head.

‘Oh Rain, don't exaggerate.'

‘I'm not, Mum — I mean Maggie. I'm not exaggerating. This boy-thing took Daniel's hat today and when I tried to get it back, he pushed me over.'

‘Really?'

‘We all had to go to the Principal's office and she's an old cow. Boy-thing doesn't know his own strength, she implied, because he's so good at sports. Probably didn't mean to push me right over. Tut-tut-tutted at him and that's all. Dismissed. Except for hoping that I will fit in, difficult she knows, but if I make an effort … Mum, are you listening?'

Maggie sighed and stretched out her legs.

‘Why did he take Daniel's hat?'

‘Because it's his. I don't know. I told you it would be beastly and it is.'

‘Bit early to tell that, isn't it?' Maggie didn't sound certain.

‘Poor Daniel,' I said. ‘He's had this all his life. Imagine. And he's really clever.'

‘Do you want me to speak to someone,' Maggie asked slowly, ‘or do you want my advice?'

‘You can't speak to anyone,' I said. ‘Daniel won't tell his mum anything. She worries, he says. Isn't that what mums are supposed to do?'

Maggie laughed. ‘Probably. Okay — my advice is to just ignore it, and if you can't ignore it, to tell a teacher, gently though, Rain, without your righteous indignation. Other than that, avoid these kids, okay?'

‘Yeah, I knew you'd say that. I say we wage war on them. Daniel and me against the boy-things!'

‘That'll just get you into trouble, Rain, and it could get Daniel into trouble, too.'

‘It beats me why he didn't try to get his own hat back,' I said.

‘He's probably too sensible, Rain.'

‘Or he's been beaten up before,' I said gloomily.

Things didn't improve. Practically every day there was some kind of hat incident. Daniel's patience bugged me. All he would do was ask for it back, or, if they made jokes about it, walk away. It irked me. But I was his friend, so I followed.

‘What did you do before I came?' I asked him. ‘Who did you hang out with?'

‘I used to read,' Daniel said. ‘I'm not allowed to run around much anyway.'

‘Not allowed to? Why?'

He shrugged. ‘It's just a thing,' he said.

‘Asthma?'

‘Just a thing, okay.'

‘The Counsellor certainly is a worrier,' I said to Maggie. ‘Daniel's not allowed to run around. What kind of a rule is that?'

‘Maybe there's a good reason,' Maggie said. She was making bread in the kitchen, pounding the dough on an old butcher's block she'd bought at a clearing sale. I had a turn kneading. It was hard work.

‘I reckon she's over-protective, ' I said, ‘because it isn't even asthma. Maybe he was born too early and never quite caught up growing. Or maybe his brain took up too much growing energy. He's not even that small, but maybe he was and she hasn't got over worrying.'

‘Maybe.'

In the city I had done a lot of things other than school. I had Little Athletics every Saturday, swimming lessons after school on Friday, jazz and tap dancing on Monday nights and creative dance on Tuesdays. During the Christmas holidays I had done a course of circus skills because Maggie said that was better than gymnastics and clay modelling. Some weekends there were festivals on at various places — my favourite was the Chinese New Year, but we had also been to the Vietnamese moon festival, the Spanish fiesta and the Brunswick Music Festival. It seemed as if we were always doing something.

In Clarkson there was nothing. Which was really interesting. I'd get home from school and some days Maggie and I would go for a walk, or I'd join her in her yoga practice. Sometimes we'd muddle around in the garden where Maggie was putting down a no-dig vegie garden. Or I'd go next door and play a game of chess with Daniel or we'd head together down to the river, platypus hunting. On my Maggie weekends, Maggie and I would drive to the Halffields market where we bought vegies. It wasn't as good as the Victoria Market, but Maggie promised that in the school holidays we'd go back there.

‘I think we need a dog,' I said. ‘I think if you live in the country you really do need a dog.'

‘That's not a bad idea,' Maggie said, ‘but not a huge one. We want something small and manageable.'

‘A happy dog,' I said. ‘You know, one of those ones that look as if they are smiling?'

‘I'd love a dog,' Daniel said mournfully when I told him we were getting one.

‘Well, you could have one, couldn't you?'

‘I don't know. The Counsellor isn't that keen on pets. She says they die.'

‘Your mum's weird. She's neurotic, that's what she is.' Neurotic was my new word. I'd heard Dad call Julia that on one of my South Yarra weekends. I'd taken them down some beautiful Clarkson tank water and Julia had insisted on boiling it before she'd even have a sip.

The Clarkson Scout Group had a recruitment drive and Maggie talked me into going along.

‘I think it sounds daggy,' I said. ‘And isn't it just boys?'

‘No, there are girl scouts,' Maggie said, ‘and camps. It would be something entirely new, Rain. You'd get to do all sorts of interesting things.'

‘All the kids from school will be there,' I said, ‘and they won't talk to me.'

‘There'll be other kids,' Maggie said. ‘I asked and kids come from all over because Clarkson has a scout hall and not everywhere else does.'

‘I don't want to go doing too much,' I said. ‘Not like I was when we lived in the city.'

I enjoyed Scouts, though. Okay, the uniform
was
daggy and I wasn't too keen on the flag-raising stuff, but the activities were great and there were four other girls — three of whom I didn't know and Becky.

‘You should come along,' I said to Daniel, ‘you really should. Some of the stuff we do, you'd love. Honest.'

‘I don't want to,' Daniel said. ‘I'm not into those really physical things.'

‘It's not like that. I mean, there's some stuff that is, but you wouldn't have to do it if you didn't want to, I'm sure. Are you all right? You don't want to do anything these days.'

That wasn't quite true. Daniel and I had gone with Maggie to choose a puppy. Mum's yoga friend's bitch had pups and we saw them when they were only one week old. We'd chosen a little sandy-coloured girl with a white star on her chest. We weren't going to get her until she was eight weeks old. Daniel had been impressed with the pups and had started an active dog campaign on the Counsellor who showed some vague signs of weakening.

But the best thing Daniel and I did together was go platypus sighting. We went every afternoon for a week before we saw one. We never would have seen one if it hadn't been for Daniel's dad who got word from a patient that a platypus burrow had been found on his land, down near the river. Old Mr Beatty gave Daniel and his dad special permission to trespass on his land. Daniel was a favourite with his father's patients, particularly the ones who played chess. It beats me why kids who are liked by adults are always the ones not liked at school. Anyway, Daniel, his dad and I went down to the river, all wrapped up in woolly jackets, hats and scarves because even though the weather was getting warmer the evenings were still cold. We sat on the bank of the river, near where the burrow was, and waited. Daniel's dad had bought a thermos of hot chocolate and we shared that really quietly. You couldn't talk, of course — or only in the quietest of whispers — and we tried not to even wriggle. Daniel was really good at being quiet. I kept finding bits of me that itched — my nose would start, and I'd have to scratch it. Then an old mosquito bite would start irritating my knee or my toes would get itchy and I'd long to take off my boots and wriggle them.

We didn't see anything except water rats. I liked the water rats. They swam really well and didn't look rat-like at all, more like little otters from the zoo. They had white tips on their tails and that's what you looked for to make sure that they weren't platypuses, that and their little ears, close to the head but ears nonetheless, whereas you can't see a platypus's ears. Once you saw them on a bank or a log you could easily tell they were rats by the way they loped along, just like otters.

While they were in the water, though, they swam around just like a platypus. You'd be sitting, me trying not to scratch, and suddenly you'd see a moving arrow of water, mostly quite near the bank. You'd hold your breath, waiting, and then the tail would appear with that little white tip and we'd all breathe out at once and pass the thermos around again.

Then, on the fifth afternoon, when I think even Daniel's dad was getting a little impatient, we definitely saw a platypus. It came right under where we were. We'd changed where we sat, gone downstream a bit to a kind of fishing platform that old Mr Beatty had built on the river bank. And there was the arrow of water from where we had been sitting and it moved along the river bank while we held our breaths. The platform we were standing on was right near some bullrushes and we watched the ripples and bubbles and then it came in really close to the shallow water right near where we were. I know I squeaked, because Daniel elbowed me gently. We all peered down and we could just see the flat tail. No white tip. And then it moved into a patch of late sunshine and we saw it more clearly nosing around and then it must have heard something and with a little flip completely disappeared into deeper, shadowed water.

‘Well,' Daniel's dad said after a long silence, ‘we've seen it, kids.'

‘Are you sure it was really a platypus?' Daniel asked. ‘If only we'd had a really good look.'

‘It was a platypus,' Daniel's dad said firmly. ‘Definitely a platypus. No white tip. No ears. And shy. A rat would have just come up for a second look at us.'

‘Wow, we've seen it, Daniel, we've seen it!'

‘I can't believe it,' Daniel said. ‘I just can't believe it. It all happened too fast.'

‘I know what you mean,' his father said, putting an arm around him, ‘but the more time you spend watching wild things, the more practised you get at seeing them, so eventually your eye adapts to their speed. But it was, it was truly a platypus. You've joined an exclusive club, kids. Not many people these days have seen a platypus in the wild. Let's go up and tell Mr Beatty, shall we?'

While the Doctor had a drink with Mr Beatty, Daniel and I went over how we'd seen it.

‘We could go on safaris,' I said. ‘Not the shooting ones, of course — but to see other animals. I'd like to see an echidna, Daniel. You said you'd seen one.'

‘Dad and I did. And it saw us and dug down really quickly. But before it could disappear, Dad grabbed it and flipped it over. They've got these great claws, Rain — they're pretty amazing.'

Mr Beatty made us tomato soup from the can, which tasted delicious, and we dunked thick white bread into it. Then he let us toast marshmallows in his fireplace and we took it in turns to hold the toasting fork. The marshmallows were best when the tops went quite brown and the whole thing threatened to wobble off the fork and fall straight into the fire so you had to open your mouth quickly and almost burn it to catch the marshmallow. Then Mr Beatty and Daniel played a game of chess while the Doctor beat me at dominoes.

Mr Beatty had this ancient fluffy cat who sat on my lap the whole time purring. He didn't even move when I leaned forward to toast the marshmallows. And the house, which was tiny, smelt faintly of old toast and woodsmoke and there were photos on the wall of Mrs Beatty who had died years before. When Mr Beatty saw me looking at them he brought out a photo album with all sorts of old photos in it, old cars and ladies in big hats and little boys in sailor suits.

When we left, Mr Beatty gave me a little china statue of a girl. He said she reminded him of me, even though she was wearing a dress and her hair was all neat curls. He gave Daniel a book on astronomy.

‘Got to start off-loading stuff,' he said. ‘I'll be eighty-eight next year. Even the Doc here doesn't think I'll last forever.'

‘You've still a good few years left in you,' Daniel's dad said as they shook hands at the door.

‘Ah, it's that spring water. Best thing for a man, eh?' And Mr Beatty winked at us.

‘This has been one of the best nights of my life,' I whispered to Daniel as we drove back home. ‘I'll remember it forever, won't you?' I had the china statue in my lap. The girl's hair felt smooth under my fingers, and even though it was dark I knew her dress was pale blue, a blue Mr Beatty called duck-egg.

‘Yes,' Daniel said, ‘I will. First the platypus and it's the first time I've ever come close to beating Mr Beatty at chess.'

‘See,' I said, ‘you've got friends. You've got heaps of friends, if you think about it. They just aren't the kind of friends most kids have.'

And that was true. Daniel got emails from kids around the world who, like him, were Trekkies. Every two months he went down to Melbourne to meet with other Trekkies at some club. He got stuff in the ordinary mail practically every day — newsletters and magazines that he brought to school and read during free time. He even wrote for some of them.

But none of that made him any friends at school. And sometimes I wondered whether he even wanted ordinary friends. He wouldn't come along to Scouts. He wouldn't come and learn tennis with me. He just didn't try.

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