Specky Magee (5 page)

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Authors: Felice Arena

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BOOK: Specky Magee
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10 ADOPTED!

A sudden flood of tears streamed down Specky’s cheeks. The realisation that he was adopted had hit him like a ton of bricks. His mother put her arm around him.

‘If there’s anything you want to know we’ll tell you, okay? Please don’t cry, Simon—you’ll always be my boy!’ She began to cry.

‘But why didn’t you tell me before this?’ Specky asked, trying to hold back his tears.

‘This isn’t easy for us, Simon. I suppose we wanted to avoid it for as long as we could. Not to hurt you but to protect you. Your happiness is what’s important to us.’

‘Protect me from what? What do you mean? I can’t believe this. How? Why?’

‘Look…’ Specky’s father stepped in. ‘This is probably not the time to go into great details. It’s been an emotional night for all of us.’

‘Your father’s right. Why don’t you go and wash up and I’ll get dinner ready, okay?’

Specky reluctantly agreed with his parents. It was all too much to take in right now. He wandered back up to his bedroom in a daze, and threw himself onto his bed, unaware that his beloved black cocker spaniel, Sammy, had followed him. Sammy jumped onto the bed and nestled in beside him.

‘I knew, I knew it!’ Specky sighed to himself.

‘Can I come in?’

It was Alice tapping at Specky’s bedroom door. Specky muttered ‘no’, but Alice entered anyway.

‘I overheard it all, and I can’t believe it either. Look, you’re still my little brother and I’m still your sister, okay?’

Specky flopped his arm across his face. He didn’t want Alice to see him tearing up again.

‘Um, my notebook is fixed, so the computer in the study is all yours,’ she croaked awkwardly on her way out.

Specky decided to stay in his room until dinner was ready. An hour later, he made his way downstairs to find that the rest of the family had started eating without him.

‘There you are! We thought you’d dozed off so we didn’t want to disturb you. I kept your plate warm, sweetie,’ said Specky’s mum, acting all breezy, as if nothing major had happened.

Specky pulled up a chair and sat at the table, while his mum placed his dinner in front of him.

‘There you go. Quick and simple but I know spaghetti and meatballs is one of your favourites.’

Specky couldn’t help but suddenly feel like a stranger in his own home.

‘So, Alice, how’s that Geography homework of yours going?’ asked Specky’s father.

Alice screwed up her face—she hardly ever spoke about school to her parents. Specky could tell that his father was just trying to make conversation. Like his mother, he too was pretending that everything was fine. Specky couldn’t take it anymore.

‘So…’ he interrupted his father, ‘who are my
real
parents then?’

Specky’s mother fumbled with her knife and
fork, dropping them onto her plate. Alice nervously took a large gulp from her glass of water.


We’re
your real parents, Simon,’ answered Specky’s dad firmly. ‘We have been and always will be your parents. Today’s news shouldn’t change a thing.’

‘Your father’s right. Life should continue as it is,’ added Specky’s mother.

Specky wasn’t satisfied with his parents’ response. ‘Do you know who they are? Where did you get me from?’

‘If you mean your biological parents, no, we don’t know who they are.’ Specky’s parents exchanged worried looks. ‘We got you through an adoption agency,’ continued Specky’s dad.

‘Then who took the picture of me dressed up in footy gear?’ asked Specky.

Again, Specky’s father gave his mother a concerned look.

‘The agency gave it to us,’ explained Specky’s mother. Tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead and neck glistened in the light.

‘Then why did you want to adopt me? Couldn’t you have another one of your own, like Alice? Or is Alice adopted too?’

‘Am I!?’ coughed Alice, almost choking on her food.

‘No, you’re not. The truth is…’ Specky’s dad once again glanced back at Specky’s mum. Her eyes were wide open, as if she was unsure exactly what Specky’s father was about to say. ‘The truth is that it just happened to be the right time for you to come into our lives. All we know is that your biological mother is dead—unfortunately, she was killed in a car accident. And we have no idea who your biological father is.’

Specky looked at his mum. She dropped her head so that Specky couldn’t look her directly in the eye.

‘You still haven’t answered my question. Why did you want to adopt in the first place? And how do you know all this? You just said you didn’t know who my real parents were.’ It was obvious to Specky that there was more to the story than his parents were willing to tell him. Just then, his father abruptly pushed his chair away from the table and stood up.

‘Look, Simon, I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but that’s all we know. Enough questions.
We’re
your parents and that’s that! And after your performance at the gallery this afternoon, I wouldn’t push it!’ Specky’s dad
stormed out of the room, leaving Specky even more confused and upset.

‘Your father didn’t mean to shout, love. We just want you to know that we’re here for you,’ Specky’s mother said softly. As she began clearing the table, Specky could see she was trying to hold back from crying again.

‘Mum, can’t you tell me more?’

Specky’s mum slammed down the plates on the table and this time stared directly into Specky’s eyes. ‘Simon, your father and I love you very much, that’s all you need to know.’ Mrs Magee turned and walked out of the room.

‘Whoah, what a day this has been. Like something out of the twilight zone!’ remarked Alice. ‘I hate to say this, but they’re right, you know. They’re your—our—parents, Si. They’re the ones who raised us and that’s the only thing that should matter. I know you must be freaked out at the moment, but you really should just try to forget about it.’

Alice got out of her seat and left Specky to finish his dinner alone.

How can I just forget about it? he thought. I have another dad! Another dad, who obviously loves footy!

11 CHRISKICKS

On the following Monday morning at school, Specky still wasn’t sure if he was going to share his news with his friends. It wasn’t something he felt he wanted a lot of people to know.

‘What’s with you? You haven’t said a word all morning. What’s up?’ asked Robbo during recess.

‘Look, if I tell you, you have to keep it to yourself. Promise?’ said Specky.

Robbo crossed his heart with his forefinger and gave an exaggerated nod.

‘All right,’ began Specky. ‘Remember the photograph of me dressed up in all the Geelong gear? Well, I suspect my dad took it.’

‘Your dad? But your dad isn’t into footy and…’

Specky took in a deep breath and stopped Robbo mid-sentence. ‘No, not my dad that you know, my
biological
dad. I found out I’m…’ Specky took in another breath. It was still difficult to believe this was all happening. ‘I’m adopted!’

Robbo paused for a few seconds before he fully understood what he had just heard. ‘No way! You’re
adopted
! What are you going to do? Are you going to look for them—your real parents, I mean?’

Specky shrugged his shoulders. He felt kind of relieved that he had told someone.

‘Um, I don’t know. I’m not sure if I want to. Where would I begin, anyway? My parents freaked out on me when I tried to find out more, so I know
they
won’t help me. They told me my biological mother is dead, but my father is out there, somewhere.’

Robbo shook his head in disbelief, not really sure how to react. ‘Man, you know what this means. Your dad, I mean, your biological dad, is probably into footy. That’s why you were dressed in all that footy gear as a baby!’

‘Oh derr, no kidding,’ Specky replied sarcastically. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about that since they told me.’

The bell sounded, and Specky and Robbo made their way back to class. By the end of the day it seemed that everyone in school knew about Specky’s secret.

‘I’m sorry, mate!’ pleaded Robbo, running up to Specky near the front gates of the school.

‘I thought I told you to keep it to yourself.’

‘I did, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt just to tell Danny, and then he thought he could tell…’

‘Look,’ snapped Specky, ‘it’s okay. I don’t care anymore. I just wish I had never found that stupid photo in the first place.’

Specky bolted from Robbo, and ran nonstop all the way home. When he got there, his mother greeted him at the front door, offering home-made snacks—this was so out of the ordinary. Specky declined the food with a shake of the head, ran upstairs and jumped in front of the computer. He didn’t want to deal with anything or anyone. He wanted to totally forget about all this adoption stuff. Instead, all he wanted to do was surf a few of his favourite footy sites. That’ll provide the perfect distraction, he thought. After a few minutes online, Specky was messaged by CHRISkicks.

CHRISkicks
: Hey! What happened to you the other day? You signed off in a rush.

FOOTYHEAD
: Yeah, sorry about that. You were right.

CHRISkicks
: Right? I was right about what?

FOOTYHEAD
: About being adopted. My parents told me yesterday. It’s true, I’m adopted.

CHRISkicks
: Wow! How do you feel?

FOOTYHEAD
: It’s a weird feeling, hard to explain.

CHRISkicks
: I know what you mean.

FOOTYHEAD
: What do you mean you know? How could you possibly know how I feel?

CHRISkicks
: ‘Cause I’m adopted, too!

Specky wondered if this was a joke. Now he was more curious than ever to find out more about this ‘CHRISkicks’ kid. Up until now, he was happy just to talk footy with him. But that had changed—now they had something more in common than just Aussie Rules.

FOOTYHEAD
: So how long have you known you were adopted?

CHRISkicks
: I’ve known for a long time. Since I was able to talk. My parents are the coolest people around. I consider my adopted parents to be my real parents.

FOOTYHEAD
: Do you ever wonder about your real parents though? Would you ever look for them?

CHRISkicks
: Why? Do you want to search for your biological parents?

Specky took in another deep breath. He couldn’t deny the fact that deep down, he had a burning desire to find out more about his
other
father. I wonder if he can kick booming torpedoes. I bet he can! he fantasised.

CHRISkicks
: Hello? Are you still there?

FOOTYHEAD
: Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.

CHRISkicks
: Don’t let this adoption thing freak you out too much. If you want to chat some more about it, I don’t mind.

FOOTYHEAD
: Thanks.

CHRISkicks
: That’s okay. So how are all your AFL teams going?

FOOTYHEAD
: I’m not sure. I haven’t paid much attention lately.

CHRISkicks
: Well, I’m going to the G this weekend to see the Geelong vs Collingwood match!

FOOTYHEAD
: Really? I’m going to be there this weekend too!

Specky and Robbo had been invited to the match a few weeks ago by Danny and his family. Danny had been talking about it all week.

FOOTYHEAD
: But why are you going to see that game? I thought you barracked for the Blues?

CHRISkicks
: I do, but my dad will be working there this weekend, so I’m tagging along.

FOOTYHEAD
: Working at the footy? Doing what?

FOOTYHEAD
: Hello? You there?

CHRISkicks
: Sorry, Mum distracted me. She’s telling me to get off. Hey, do you want to meet up?

FOOTYHEAD
: Um, well, I’m not sure.

CHRISkicks
: That’s cool, it’s up to you. Only if you want.

Specky paused for a second before typing an answer. He knew it was definitely a dumb thing to arrange to meet a total stranger from an online chat room. There was no way he would ever do that. But he thought it would be safe because he was going to be with friends, and in a public place.

FOOTYHEAD
: Okay, I’ll be in the Members Stand. Can you meet me there?

CHRISkicks
: Yeah, I can do that. Where exactly?

FOOTYHEAD
: I’ll meet you directly in front of the Barassi Bar at half-time. I think it’s between entrance 23 and 24, but I’m not 100 per cent sure. I’ll be wearing a baseball cap. It’s navy
blue, like the one Tiger Woods wears. My mates Robbo and Danny will probably be with me.

CHRISkicks
: Cool, I’ll see you then. See ya!

FOOTYHEAD
: Wait! How will I recognise you? And you forgot to tell me what sort of work your dad will be doing at the game?

FOOTYHEAD
: Hello?

CHRISkicks had already logged off. Specky was left to think about what he had just committed to.

For the rest of the week, he went about his life as normally as possible. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Robbo or Danny, about his planned meeting with CHRISkicks. He felt it best not to say a word, not until they were at the game. He didn’t want it to somehow get back to his parents that he was going to meet a kid who could possibly help him search for his
other
father—his ‘footy father’.

12 SIMMO

Finally Saturday arrived, and Specky was once again playing football for his school, this time against a team called Redleaf College Rovers. It was half-time and Booyong High were gathered around Coach Pappas.

‘Okay, boys, great first half. But just because we’re four goals in front doesn’t mean we can slacken off now. Speck, I reckon I’ll put you on the wing for the second half. Swap with Simmo.’

Everyone’s jaws dropped in unison. They were gobsmacked—some of them almost choked on their quartered oranges and bottled water. What did the coach think he was doing? Their number one goal scorer on the wing? And Michael ‘Simmo’ Simpson at full-forward? It was pure craziness. For starters, the whole
team, including Simmo, knew he wasn’t exactly a strong marking type. In fact, he wasn’t much of a kick, either. But that’s not to say he wasn’t liked by his fellow players—he was. He was a respected team player, and was passionate about his footy, but Coach Pappas’s decision to position him in the goal square in place of Specky was a strange one indeed.

Specky, Robbo and Danny couldn’t help but notice that there was one person who was extremely happy with the switch—Simmo’s dad. He smiled proudly and gave the Coach a big wink of approval.

‘Did you see that?’ whispered Danny to Specky. ‘That stinks! My dad would never tell the Coach where to play me!’

Specky had to agree with Danny. It looked as if the Coach’s decision had been influenced by Simmo’s dad. And if that was the case, then it was totally out of character for the Coach.

Coach Pappas hadn’t been persuaded by bossy parents in the past, so why would he be now? But then Simmo’s dad could hardly be considered a bossy parent—he was actually a very pleasant man and a loyal supporter of the team. This made the sudden switch all the more unusual.

As Specky wandered back out onto the oval towards the wing position, Simmo ran up alongside him.

‘Specky. I hope y-y-y-you d-d-don’t mind.’ Simmo had a stutter, and it seemed to get a little worse when he was nervous. ‘I-I-I didn’t mean to t-t-take your p-p-p-position. It’s just that m-m-my d-d-dad is…’

‘Simmo, it’s cool. Relax. I don’t care, really.’ But Specky did care. He couldn’t help thinking that if his biological ‘footy dad’ were there, he would’ve protested against Coach Pappas’s decision.

Simmo wanted to fully explain why his father did what he did, but once again Specky cut him off.

‘Look, Simmo, forget it. You’d better get to your
new
position, the quarter is about to start,’ he said.

Simmo ran off to take up his place at full-forward. ‘S-s-s-sorry!’ he shouted back over his shoulder to Specky.

But Specky wasn’t having any of it. Even though it wasn’t in his nature to be resentful, he still couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed. He looked over towards Danny and Robbo and rolled his eyes.

The first ball of the third quarter was bounced, and immediately Specky’s team-mates had control of the ball, and moved it down into their forward-line. The forward pocket player for Specky’s team, Sanjay ‘The Bombay Bullet’ Sharma (nicknamed this by his mates because he had recently migrated from India and was a super-fast sprinter) took a safe mark and then beautifully kicked the ball towards Simmo. Unfortunately, Simmo fumbled and dropped the ball, missing the easiest of chest-marks. The full-back for Redleaf College swooped in and capitalised on Simmo’s blunder, darting off with the ball. He had a large opening ahead of him and decided to make a heroic dash. Specky’s team was caught off guard by the surprise break away.

You need to have confidence to run and carry the football. Bouncing the ball at top speed can be difficult, and should be practised under pressure at training. Wherever possible, Specky and his mates always had a football in their hands. They would have competitions with one another while they ran their warm-up laps at training. How many times could they bounce the ball as they ran half a lap,
flat out? Could they bounce the ball, on the run, with their non-preferred hand? Could they bounce two balls at the same time, one with the right hand and one with the left hand? These drills were designed to improve their ball handling.

Specky made a rush towards him, as did Danny. The full-back player bounced the ball once, then again and again. His team-mates gallantly shepherded him, providing a clear passage. He covered an enormous amount of ground, even crossing the centre line. It was rare for a full-back player to achieve such a feat, and Specky and his team-mates struggled to get a firm grip on him.

The full-back eventually kicked the ball into the safe hands of his team’s full-forward. Coach Pappas was screaming from the sideline, disgusted by his team’s sudden lapse of concentration. Redleaf’s full-forward carefully lined up his kick, tested the wind by throwing a handful of grass in the air, and shot for goal—it soared right through the middle.

As the ball was escorted by the boundary umpire back to the centre, Specky and his team-mates shook their heads in frustration.
Once again, the ball was bounced and Specky’s team-mates, determined to make amends, quickly got it down to their forward-line. But what happened next was almost an identical repeat of the previous play. That is, Simmo again missed an easy mark, the full-back took advantage of his mistake, made a break away, ran for most of the entire ground, and kicked the ball to his full-forward, who scored another goal—all in the span of just a few minutes.

The Redleaf Rovers were on a roll, and continued to outplay Specky’s team for the entire quarter. By the sound of the umpire’s whistle, they had not only clawed their way back, but had taken the lead by one clear goal. Specky’s team-mates were quick to blame Simmo for their dismal quarter. Every goal the other team had kicked was indirectly a result of Simmo’s bad play.

‘So, are you going to switch Specky back to full-forward?’ chorused some of the boys to Coach Pappas as they gathered round for the third-quarter address.

Specky glanced over at Simmo, who had dropped his head in embarrassment. Simmo couldn’t face anyone. He was very upset—he
knew he was letting down the entire team. Specky suddenly felt kind of sorry for him. And he also felt slightly guilty that he and the rest of the team were being a little hard on him.

Coach Pappas wasn’t impressed, to say the least.

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