Red Dirt Diary 2 (8 page)

For once I actually
wanted
to talk with Mat about THE WEDDING, because I'm more confused than ever. But Mat was too busy trying to get Gavin's attention. She fluttered her eyelashes and smoothed her hair behind her ears until I thought it would fall out. Then, at supper time, she made a grand entrance on Sheba. Sadly for Mat, an unbelievably bad smell made a grand entrance at the same time.

‘Pooh! Mat!' shouted Wes. ‘What did you eat for dinner?'

‘Amazing!' cried Peter. ‘You should bottle that and sell it to the army as a weapon of mass destruction!'

‘Don't anyone light a match!' yelled Gavin, laughing.

Mat's face crumpled up in a blotchy lump. She slipped off Sheba and ran inside, crying.

Poor Mat.

Mr Sweeney ran over and led Sheba away before she could share any more wind. When he came back, I asked him if that was why her owners were going to put her down.

Mr Sweeney nodded and said, ‘Poor horse. Bit of gas never hurt anyone.'

I think Mat would beg to differ …

Thursday, 11 January

Mat phoned this morning, bawling her eyes out. ‘Gavin thinks that smell was me. He thinks I stink!' she sobbed.

I didn't know what to say. I know less about L-O-V-E than anyone else I know (except Wes and Fez, of course, and they don't count).

Mum and Dad have loved each other for twenty years, so they're obviously experts.

Peter was once in love — with Chantelle O'Brien in year four. He used to give her a patty cake every recess, until he realised she was also accepting Anzac biscuits from Trevor Parker every lunch time. Peter felt totally betrayed and was heartbroken for at least three days (which just goes to show that love can make a big mess of everything!).

Sophie is in love with every punk rocker she has ever listened to, and is an expert on love after reading hundreds of novels with names like
Love in the Mountains
or
Stolen Kisses.

Matilda Jane the Mature actually kissed a boy on the jetty last summer when she was at the beach and is, of course, an expert on having her heart crushed time and time again by the one and only Gavin O'Donnell. Tragically, Gavin O'Donnell doesn't even know what a heartless boyfriend he is because he doesn't even know that he is
anyone's
boyfriend, let alone Mat's!!! Yet she still doesn't know what to do when love gets tangled up with foul odours!

Even silly Nick Farrel is in love with Lynette Sweeney and protects her like a faithful guard dog.

Me?

I'm just confused.

Friday, 12 January

Macka, Gunther and the ducklings have formed one happy family. They sleep together in the long grass under the peppercorn tree.

Wes and Fez are disgusted.

‘What's the use of an alpaca that doesn't spit on us?' said Wes.

‘It's like a poo without flies,' said Fez.

‘Or a dam without leeches,' said Wes.

‘Or a circus without acrobats,' said Peter.

Good on you, Peter. Now the Flying Ferals have forgotten Macka and are back into the circus stunts. Last thing I heard, they were talking about catapults …

Saturday, 13 January

Wes, Fez and Peter made a little seesaw today — the Flying Ferals Catapult Prototype #1. They set it up in Wes and Fez's bedroom, facing towards Wes's bed, and sat Fez's big, blue teddy on it. Fez explained that the real catapult, when they build it, will be a big one. They'll set it up outside and fling Wes towards the trampoline, so he will be completely safe.

Sure!

Fez stood on a chair and jumped down onto the opposite end of the seesaw to Teddy. Teddy flew upwards into the rapidly spinning blades of the ceiling fan. His head flew straight out the window and his body plopped to the floor.

Sophie screamed. Petal ran around in circles, quacking and flapping her wings. Tufts of blue fur and white stuffing drifted onto the beds.

Fez lay on the floor, hugging Teddy's headless body and crying his guts out, ‘Teddy's dead! Teddy's dead!'

Wes and Peter staggered around laughing.

I grabbed Petal, and snuck out to feed the chooks so that I was well out of sight by the time Mum came in and let rip.

Sunday, 14 January

It's officially over.

Miss McKenzie came out after Mass to tell Mum and Dad that the engagement is off.

Surprisingly, she didn't cry a single tear or eat a single lamington to keep her spirits up.

I tried to look concerned, but I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I was right and everyone else was wrong. This wedding was a huge
mistake. Marrying James Welsh-Pearson would have been a disaster.

Miss McKenzie belongs at Hardbake Plains. She's only been here for a year but she is part of this place and it is part of her.

Before she left this afternoon, I said, ‘You've got red dirt between your toes.'

She looked down at her sandals and laughed.

Monday, 15 January

Sophie, Mat and Lynette are distraught because they can no longer be bridesmaids.

Sophie sat on the veranda all afternoon, listening to her Festering Punks CD, clutching my bridesmaid's scrapbook to her chest. Every now and then she'd sigh.

Gerty lay on the veranda, listening to the Festering Punks CD, wagging her tail and rolling her eyes in delight! She was humming along in her fat piggy head, just like she does with the bagpipes. Weird.

Mat rang and blubbered on about what a terrible mistake Miss McKenzie was making. How could she possibly break off an engagement to such a wonderful man as James Welsh-Pearson who had so much money and was a lawyer and
lived in Sydney, and Mrs Welsh-Pearson was so kind and generous and had such interesting friends and blah, blah, blah, blabber, blabber, blabber.

I told Mat that
she
should marry James Welsh-Pearson if she thought he was so spectacular. Maybe she had a chance with him because, unlike Gavin, he didn't think she had a problem with emitting toxic gases.

Mat burst out crying and said some things that were incredibly immature for someone who tries to be so grown up all the time. And then she hung up!

Why do people get so upset about all this love stuff?

I JUST DON'T GET IT.

Tuesday, 16 January

Had a night out at Hardbake Plains Pub tonight. The grown-ups met to organise the Australia Day picnic race. All of us kids went along and played billiards and darts.

Miss McKenzie was there and she didn't look at all miserable. Why was she so upset when she was engaged to James, but now looks as happy as a pig in a pie shop? It's almost like she's relieved!

But what would I know?

Love is just confusing.

Mr Cluff spent the whole evening beside Miss McKenzie, smiling and laughing. He was obviously trying to take her mind off things. He's the kindest man.

Mat is still mega-embarrassed about the Sheba gas incident and is avoiding Gavin O'Donnell. It's a shame, because Gavin thinks Mat is great fun. He spent the whole night looking for her.

Mat spent the whole night slinking behind vending machines and ducking into the Ladies. I told her that she was in and out of the toilets so much that now Gavin probably thinks she has diarrhoea as well as wind. I said I know it's painful for her to hear these things, but if she's going to behave in such an immature fashion, someone has to point it out to her. She gave me one of her withering stares.

Sophie and I beat everyone at darts.

Wes beat Lynette at billiards, so Nick hit Wes over the head with a billiard stick. Fez hit Nick over the head with the darts board.

Sunshine, the grumpiest pub owner in Australia, kicked them all out and said they were banned for life.

Wednesday, 17 January

Wes and Fez made the Flying Ferals Life-Sized Catapult today. They set it up in the back yard and aimed it at the trampoline. Petal ran away quacking and flapping her wings before they'd even tried it out.

Wes stood on one end of the catapult, while Fez leapt from the chook shed onto the opposite end. The plank of wood snapped, flew up and smacked Fez in the nose. He fell flat on his back in the stinging nettles.

Macka the alpaca appeared from nowhere and stood over Fez making a joyful gurgling noise.

Mum thinks Fez's nose is broken. She sent him to bed with an icepack and told him not to come out again.

Does she mean
ever
???

Thursday, 18 January

Sophie played her Festering Punks CD again today. Gertrude lay on the veranda beneath our bedroom window, wagging her tail and grunting along to the music for over two hours.

When we played the bagpipes CD tonight, Gerty went psycho. She paced back and forth
along the veranda, frothing at the mouth and squealing.

I went out to calm her down but she head-butted me through the fly-screen door, back into the kitchen.

Sophie changed the music to the Festering Punks CD and Gerty settled!!! She stood still and rolled her eyes in delight — just like Mat does when anyone talks about weddings. Finally she lay down for ‘Ugly, Ugly, Ugly World', bumping her head against the veranda post every time the line, ‘Ugly, ugly, ugly!' was shouted out across the plains.

Mum looked out the window at Gertrude and sighed. She wandered off to her bedroom with a cup of tea, mumbling her own thoughts on what was ugly, ugly, ugly.

A punk rocker pig!

What a crack-up!

Friday, 19 January

‘Welcome to My Rubbish Bin' by Festering Punks blasted across the plains at 7.10 am. Mum is not impressed, but Dad said it's better than the bagpipes by a long shot.

Wes and Fez broke Peter's nose today. Something to do with the Flying Ferals catapult and Peter riding past on the motorbike at the wrong time. Dad said Wes and Fez would have to help with the fencing for a few days until Peter is able to work again.

James Welsh-Pearson rang this evening! Thankfully
I
answered the phone and realised who it was before I identified myself. I put on my best Italian accent and said, ‘Scusi mamma mia. The spaghetti's boiling over. I have to go. Arrivederci!'

Mum looked a bit suspicious when I told her it was a wrong number.

I hope he isn't ringing Miss McKenzie to beg her to marry him.

Saturday, 20 January

‘Presidents and Puppets' by Festering Punks blasted across the plains at 6.35 am. Dad started to sing along as he was getting dressed!

James Welsh-Pearson rang again today. Sophie answered the phone and talked sweetly for five minutes, asking all about Mrs WP and her latest game of mah jong. I signalled for her to hang up, but she pretended not to understand.
I wrote HANG UP YOU SILLY TWIT!!! on a piece of paper, but she turned her back to me and chatted on.

I'm not proud of what I did next but, really, I had no choice …

I put the bagpipes CD on full blast, opened the back door and stood out of the way. Gerty charged in, squealing with anger, and head-butted the first person she saw. Sophie crashed to the floor and skidded under the dining table. The phone flew into the lounge room. Gerty bolted along the hallway and out the front door. I grabbed the phone and hung up.