Stuff Happens (5 page)

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Authors: Will Kostakis

BOOK: Stuff Happens
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I didn't read before bed that night. Instead, I sat up with my notepad in my lap and tried to think up a story. I had never written a front-page article before. Back in Bunbury, only kids in year six were good enough to write those. How did they come up with their ideas?

‘How was dinner?' Dad was standing in my doorway.

‘Pretty good. Karlie's dad made us healthy pizzas.'

Dad came inside and sat on my bed. ‘I'm really proud of you,' he said, ‘making new friends.'

‘I didn't really do anything . . . it just happened.'

‘But still, it's hard moving somewhere new,' he added. ‘I remember when we left Monvale before you were born, your mum and I were adults and we were still scared. Over time, it got easier, but no matter how much we liked Bunbury, Monvale never stopped being our home.'

I knew how he felt. I couldn't stop thinking about Bunbury, about what Eddie and Christian were doing, about everything I was missing because I wasn't there . . .

‘We're back here,' Dad continued, ‘and we're lucky because we have two homes now. Monvale and Bunbury.'

I understood what he meant. I would never have met Angelo and Karlie if we hadn't moved. I would never have eaten that amazing burger at Byron's. I would never have attempted making my own newsletter . . .

Dad looked down at my notepad. ‘What are you doing?'

I told him the truth. ‘Nobody wanted the extra responsibility of making a class newsletter, and you and Mum want me to be responsible, so Angelo, Karlie and I are giving it a go.'

‘That's good.'

‘Do you think, if we did that, I'd . . . get my phone back?'

‘Well . . . I really couldn't say.' He was nodding, though.

I laughed. ‘But the thing is, I can't think of a big story.'

Dad scrunched his brow. ‘Hmm. What have you thought of so far?'

‘Angelo wants soft drink in the bubblers but I don't think the school would let us,' I said.

‘I don't even think it's possible,' he said.

It probably wasn't. I'd never seen a bubbler with lemonade in it before.

Dad tapped his lips. ‘There must be something you could write about . . . Oh! I know!' He slapped his hand on his thigh. ‘What about the haunted upstairs boys' toilets?'

I blinked. ‘There are
haunted
toilets?'

He laughed. ‘Yeah, or at least, that's what we all used to think back when I was at Monvale Primary,' he said.

‘What were they haunted by?' I asked.

Dad shrugged. ‘Nobody ever saw it. We only heard strange noises, doors wouldn't lock, taps would run and you wouldn't know who switched them on. It got so bad that most kids were scared to use the toilets, and if you did, nobody believed you. Once, my friends and I wanted to prove we went in there, so we chipped a tile off the wall and took it with us.'

That was definitely better than soft drink in the bubblers. I wanted more information. ‘What happened? Is there still a ghost?'

‘No, one day it just . . . stopped. Maybe the ghost just moved on, or maybe someone fixed the broken doors and the leaky taps,' Dad said.

‘What was it like being in there?' I sat up straighter. ‘Can I interview you for the story?'

‘Sure, why not?'

We were eating breakfast the next morning when the doorbell rang. Dad checked his watch – it wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

‘Who could that be?' he asked.

Mum sent me to answer the door. When I opened it, Angelo was standing on our welcome mat.

‘Sorry it's so early, but I couldn't wait,' he said. He held up a folder. ‘I have all my Captain Wondersmash comic strips. We can pick the best one for the newsletter.'

‘Cool.'

‘Who is it?' Mum asked.

‘Angelo, a friend from school,' I called back.

There was silence, and then, ‘Does he want pancakes? I can make him pancakes. I'm making him pancakes.'

‘Mum's making you pancakes.'

Angelo laughed. He didn't complain. They were delicious. After we finished (and Angelo had seconds), we went to my room. He opened his folder and laid the papers out on the desk. Each page had three strips on it. There were almost fifty comic strips to choose from. I didn't know where to start.

‘Which one is your favourite?' I asked.

Angelo concentrated for a sec. ‘I'm not sure.' He lifted up a page and pointed at the middle strip. ‘This one's pretty good.'

Captain Wondersmash landed a rocket ship on Mars, but didn't realise he was parked on the edge of a cliff. He opened the door and fell off. I laughed.

‘Do you like it?' he asked.

‘Yeah.'

‘But what about this one?' Angelo reached for another paper.

We ended up going through most of the rest, but that first one was my favourite. We both decided it should go in the newsletter. Mum had a scanner for work, so we used it to get the comic onto the home computer.

‘Wow,' Angelo said. ‘I've never seen one of my drawings on a screen before.'

‘And look at this,' I said, opening the document I had already started. Up the top, I had
The Year Five Times
written in a fancy newspaper calligraphy font. Below it was the headline
SCHOOL TOILETS HAUNTED
and my news story.

‘Whoa, is that true?' Angelo asked. He started reading out aloud. ‘
The boys' toilets next to 4S used to be haunted, a former Monvale Primary School student has revealed
.'

‘Yeah, that's just my dad. He went to our school,' I said.

‘Wicked,' Angelo breathed.

I scrolled down to the bottom and copied in Angelo's comic strip. I zoomed out so we could see the full page. It looked awesome!

‘Your comic rocks,' I said.

‘Thanks.' Angelo looked chuffed.

I couldn't believe how lucky I had been to find Angelo and Karlie. ‘Why were you and Karlie so nice to me when I started at Monvale?' I asked.

Angelo shrugged. ‘You didn't have a hat.'

‘But . . . after that.'

Angelo answered straight away, ‘Why not?'

They didn't have a reason to become friends with me, they just wanted to.

And knowing that felt great. When Mr Johnson took my phone, I thought I couldn't enjoy Monvale without a way to text Christian and Eddie. But having Angelo and Karlie here made not having a phone seem okay.

Angelo stayed for lunch. We were eating when the doorbell rang. Dad looked straight at me. ‘Expecting any more friends?' he asked.

I shook my head, but Mum sent me to answer the door anyway. When I opened it, Karlie was standing on our welcome mat.

‘I finished the crossword!' she said excitedly.

Karlie followed me back inside. Mum had already taken the leftover chicken out of the fridge. ‘Am I making another sandwich?' she asked.

Karlie hesitated, ‘Um.'

I answered for her. ‘Yeah, thanks.'

After we ate, we scanned in Karlie's crossword. I couldn't wait to have a go at solving it . . .

‘We're done,' Angelo said as I zoomed out.

‘Not yet.' I pointed below the crossword. There was enough room for another short article. ‘We have to fill in this blank space at the bottom.'

If I wanted to give the newsletter to Mr Johnson tomorrow, we would have to find something to fit in there that afternoon. I printed out copies for each of us, but before we could start work, the doorbell rang again.

‘Mr Popular!' I heard Dad say.

It was definitely not for me. I didn't have that many friends. The three of us stepped out of the study as Mum opened the front door.

It was for me! Jeff was standing in the doorway, holding his maths books, asking if I was home.

‘Yes, he's here.' Mum turned around. ‘Sean!'

I was already walking to the door. When I got there, Jeff said, ‘Hey Sean. I was having trouble with our homework and was wondering if you could help.'

I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him to copy off somebody else.

‘Of course he will, won't you, Sean?' Mum asked. That was Mum's way of saying I should probably help him. But I didn't want Karlie and Angelo to leave . . .

‘It's okay, I should go,' Karlie said. ‘Mum and Dad want me home.'

‘Yeah, I've got homework to finish, too,' Angelo said.

He and Karlie left and I took Jeff to my room. We sat on my bed and I opened up my maths book so he could copy it. The sooner we were finished, the sooner I could get back to work on the newsletter.

But Jeff wasn't copying it. He hesitated. ‘Actually, could you . . . um . . . show me?' he asked.

I hadn't expected that.

‘We're gonna have a test on it at the end of term and um . . . I want to make sure I can do it,' he added.

‘Oh . . . okay.'

I turned to a blank page and started to take Jeff through the first question. When I finished, he gave the next question a go. He got it right.

‘Wow, that's easy,' he said. He was about to start on the next one when something caught his eye. ‘What's that?' he asked, pointing at our unfinished newsletter.

‘We're making it for the class,' I said.

‘Cool,' Jeff said. ‘Can I read it?' He lifted up the paper and blinked at the headline:
SCHOOL TOILETS HAUNTED
.

‘Is that for real?' he asked.

I nodded.

‘Cool,' he repeated.

Jeff read the entire article. I expected him to stop, but he kept going. He traced his eyes over the comic strip and laughed at the end. (I made a mental note to tell Angelo.) He flipped the page and looked over the crossword.

‘That one's “football”,' he said, pointing at 3 Across: an eight-letter word for ‘soccer'.

He got to the bottom of the page. He checked the front, and then turned to the back again. ‘I like it,' he said, ‘but you need a sports section. Every newsletter needs a sports section.' He pointed at the blank part of the second page. ‘The scores from this weekend's games could go on the left, and then you could write about a player of the week on the right.' He gave me back the paper. ‘It's just an idea.'

And it was a good one. I looked down at the blank space on the page and imagined it filling up like he'd described. That would complete our newsletter. But I didn't know how to get the scores from the weekend, let alone how to pick a player of the week.

‘Jeff?' I asked.

‘Yeah?' He looked up from his maths work.

‘Could you help with that section?'

His face lit up. ‘Sure thing!'

It didn't take Jeff long to get the sports scores. He called his friends in different teams and found out how they went. He picked Matt K as his player of the week – Matt scored an awesome penalty that helped Jeff's team win their game yesterday.

We typed it up on the computer and zoomed out. Two pages, completely finished!

The next day, when the rest of the class went out for recess, I approached Mr Johnson's desk and handed him the newsletter.

‘You did this?' he asked, looking up.

‘With Karlie, Angelo and Jeff's help, yeah,' I said. ‘Karlie said no one else wanted to do it and I worked on the newsletter at my old school, so I thought I'd give it a go.'

He read my headline and smiled. ‘Haunted? Who said that?' he asked.

‘A good journalist protects his sources.' I had heard that in a movie once.

Mr Johnson laughed. ‘Well, I look forward to reading it.'

He must have liked it because when the class had come back after recess, Mr Johnson had made photocopies for everyone.

From my spot at the back of the room, I could watch the entire class reading it. I felt proud, like there was nothing I couldn't do. Nothing
we
couldn't do. I hadn't made the newsletter alone. Angelo and Karlie turned around in their seats to smile at me and I could tell they felt the same way.

We were a great team.

_____

After dinner that night, Mum placed my phone down next to my cutlery. I didn't understand. I hadn't told her about the newsletter . . .

‘Your teacher called me today,' she said. ‘He was very happy with you. He said you took on a lot of responsibility, so your father and I thought it was time you got that back.'

Dad was smiling as I quickly switched the phone back on.

It started vibrating as the week's messages came through. Most of them were from Christian and Eddie.

Today had been great, but it felt good to hear from the others back home.

My
other
home.

I didn't want to miss out on their messages again. When I walked into school the next day, I switched my phone off and put it in my bag. On my way to class, I passed the principal's office. Huck was sitting on the seat opposite the door.

‘New kid!' he said as I approached. ‘Did you get your phone back?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I told you Mr Johnson's tough.'

‘Yeah, but . . . I'm having fun.' It had been the first time I'd said it out aloud.

Huck was surprised that someone could have fun in Mr Johnson's class. ‘You are?'

‘Yeah. Monvale isn't too bad.'

Actually, it was pretty awesome.

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