Red Dirt Diary 2 (17 page)

Just as she reached James, the bagpipes began a new tune. A putrid smell, fresh from Sheba's dodgy digestive system, filled the air and everything went haywire all at once.

Mrs Whittington leapt up from her seat and started sobbing that Miss McKenzie was stealing her husband. Gabby Woodhouse leapt up from her seat and started sobbing that no-one appreciated her talent as a hairdresser. Gavin O'Donnell
stood
up on his seat and yelled that he loved Matilda Jane even though she smelt like a pit dunny on a hot night after a busy day.

Gertrude appeared from around the corner of the house and charged up the aisle, straight towards James and Miss McKenzie. The sound of the bagpipes had drifted across the plains to the sheep yards, driving her nuts. She must have head-butted the gate until it smashed open and the pigs and Macka were free.

The bagpipers played on and Gerty squealed in fury. She bared her teeth and lunged at James. James grabbed Miss McKenzie and pushed her in front of himself as a HUMAN SHIELD!!! So much for that
greater love has no man
stuff …

Miss McKenzie was head-butted sideways, straight into the grass near Gunther and his bunnies. Gunther was furious. He bared his teeth and leapt on Miss McKenzie's frothy white dress, tearing it into hundreds of tiny shreds.

At the same moment we heard Wes and Fez shout, ‘Five, four, three, two, one, blast off!'

Dougal was launched from the Flying Ferals' best catapult ever. He flew through the air, his kilt flapping heroically, until he landed head first in the wedding cake.
Wes and Fez ran after him cheering and yelling, ‘Happy wedding, Miss McKenzie!'

They were wearing Incredible Hulk undies over their black wedding suits and pink tea cosies on their heads. Mrs WP would have been very glad to see that they had tried to match the roses and the harvester.

Mildred sprinted to the cake and started vacuuming it up as quickly as she could. Doris knocked Dougal to the ground and licked the icing from his face.

Miss McKenzie stood up with her skirt in tatters, her pink and orange striped knickers showing underneath. Her red hair had escaped its bun and was frizzing out all over the place. Her make-up had rubbed off on the grass and she had dirt smeared down one cheek. She was totally freckled and feral and her eyes were twinkling like they used to in the good old days before James Welsh-Pearson came along and ruined everything.

Miss McKenzie looked over at Dougal and the squashed cake. Fez smiled at her through his
bug-eyed glasses and false teeth, and Wes gave her the thumbs up.

She burst out laughing and staggered around like a maniac. She laughed so hard she snorted a bit of dirt out her nose and that made her laugh even more.

Mrs Welsh-Pearson looked like she was about to faint.

James limped forward and shouted, ‘Katherine! Behave! Pull yourself together!'

Mr Cluff jumped out of his seat and yelled, ‘Don't talk like that to the woman I love!'

Mr Cluff seemed to inspire Sunshine, because
he
jumped up and yelled, ‘I love you, Clarissa!'

Dad cried, ‘Her name's Jacinta!'

James shouted, ‘Jacinta's a cow!!!'

And Dad said, ‘That's no way to talk about your mother!'

Miss McKenzie burst into a fresh round of laughter. She plonked down onto the grass beside Dougal and pulled her veil and shoes off.

I think that's when James realised it was over.

WHAT A RELIEF!

James and Mrs Welsh-Pearson were furious. James was snarling like Gunther when he tries to
protect his babies. Only James was just protecting himself.

They were stomping across the garden to leave, when Worms came out of the food tent, holding his tight little belly and moaning. He staggered over to Mrs WP, burped and threw up all over her shoes. Macka appeared from nowhere and trotted around gurgling happily.

The Welsh-Pearsons drove away followed closely by their guests, and I
thought
we would all live happily ever after.

It's never that easy with love, though, is it?

Miss McKenzie stood up in front of the Bake crowd and said, ‘I think I'll go home for a while.'

And by the way she looked at Glenda and Angus, we knew that she didn't mean Magpie's Rest. She meant Scotland.

So she left.

Just like that.

She got in the car with Glenda, Angus and Dougal and drove away — down the driveway, through the front gate and away from Hillrose Poo.

Out of our lives.

Sunday, 1 April — Easter Sunday

The McKenzies rang from Sydney just before their flight left today. They thanked us for all we had done, wished us a happy Easter and promised to keep in touch.

Miss McKenzie said she
will
be back. She just needs a break to sort herself out.

She probably needs a break for all Gunther's tooth marks to heal.

I don't want to sound like Matilda Jane the Love Mechanic, but she probably needs a break for her heart to heal too.

Love is a complicated and ugly thing. Sometimes it is shallow and fading, like Matilda Jane's love for Gavin, and Banjo's love for me. Sometimes it is bossy and cold and not really there at all, like James's love for Miss McKenzie. People call this love, but I think they have given it the wrong name.

But now I'm beginning to understand that love can also be a complicated and
beautiful
thing.

When Mum loves Dad even though he wears his muddy boots in the house, and Dad loves Mum even though he hates her taste in music, that is love.

When Gunther adores his ducklings and his bunnies as though they are perfect little piglets, that is love.

When Fez loves Wes even though he won't kiss him in public, that is love.

When Mrs Whittington still falls asleep clutching a photo of Harold to her chest nine years after he has died, that is love.

When Petal nibbles my cheeks and follows me around, that is love.

When Nick still wants to have
I love Lynette's guts
tattooed on his shoulder, even after Lynette has married Ned Murphy, that is love.

When you still want to be with someone, despite the fact that they play the bagpipes, laugh at maggot-infested sheep, snort chocolate mousse out their nose, let their carroty hair frizz out like saltbush in the wind and have desperately feral friends, that is true love. Just ask Mr Cluff.

True love accepts people as they are, even if there are a few hiccups and shocks along the way.

I don't know much about love, but I do know that.

Turn the page for a sneak peek …

Monday, 16 April — Start of Term 2

Today is a very important day in the history of Hardbake Plains. I am so excited!

Mat, Ben and I are starting a newspaper for our big year seven English project. Hardbake Plains has never had a newspaper before. Not even when the population grew to 237 people during the wool boom of the 1800s.

At first Matilda Jane the Mature wasn't going to help. She really wanted us all to create a fashion magazine called
Matilda's Wardrobe
. But then Ben sat on her for one and a half hours and she kindly agreed to do the newspaper instead.

We have already decided that it will be called
The Bake Tribune
. Other papers have grand names like
The Herald
,
The Chronicle
and
The Proclaimer
, so we reckon Hardbake Plains' first-ever newspaper should have a special name.

 

The Bake Tribune

THE BAKE TRIBUNE

The bake tribune

However you write it, it looks terribly important. It's bound to be a success.

Tuesday, 17 April

Our new teacher is arriving on Friday.

The school has had a lot of trouble getting someone to take Miss McKenzie's place while she's in Scotland. Everyone's saying it's because we are so far out west and such a tiny town. But I know it's because people are scared of Wes and Fez. Everyone here is used to them — a bit like people who live in the Swiss Alps are used to avalanches, or people in Kenya are used to lions. But to the outsider, Wes and Fez would seem terrifying, dangerous and strange.

Mr Cluff doesn't make the place look so good either. He's been such a gloomy guts since Miss McKenzie left. He mopes around like a zombie with a toothache. Not a welcoming sight.

I really thought Miss McKenzie would be back by the start of the new term, but she hasn't even mentioned coming home. She might be Scottish by birth, but she really does belong here at Hardbake Plains. She fitted in from the day she
arrived. As Dad said, Miss McKenzie became as Aussie as a cockatoo eating a lamington in a gumtree.

We had our first executive meeting for
The Bake Tribune
today. Hopefully the first edition will be out in a few weeks. I am going to be the editor and chief reporter. Ben will be the designer and printer. Mat is having trouble deciding on what she wants to contribute, because she is an expert in
so
many areas — fashion, romance, skin care, romance, diets, romance, boarding school, romance … I suppose she'll sort it out sooner or later.

My duck Petal will have to be chief editor's paperweight. She has started coming to school with me again. Mrs Whittington tried to bake her for an early Christmas dinner last week, so I don't really feel like she is safe at home without me.

Wednesday, 18 April

Mat has decided that she will write a romance serial for
The Bake Tribune
. She is not quite sure what to call it yet, but it's certain to be something totally embarrassing, like
Safari into Love
or
Colliding Hearts.

She said her trip to the Dubbo Zoo in the school holidays with Warren from Warren has given her plenty of ideas for the love scenes (smirk, blush, giggle …). Apparently she had a million romantic experiences in a single day. Warren grasped her hand every time they were near the tigers (I think that shows he's a big, fat scaredy pants, but Mat assures me it's a sign of deep affection). He gazed into her eyes
five times
near the camels, and kissed her cheek behind the elephants.

Ben was busy doing an online maths challenge and thought Mat said Warren had kissed the cheek of an elephant's behind. Ben has always thought Warren from Warren sounded like a real nerd, but now he's not so sure. Anyone brave enough to kiss an elephant on the butt has Ben's total respect and admiration.

Two days until the new teacher arrives …