3:30 p.m.—The punishment
Danielli and I had been waiting outside Waddlehead’s office for over fifteen minutes. Every five minutes Danielli would stand up, walk three steps, stop, check his watch and sit down again.
I was spending my time staring at Waverton’s name on his door, trying to remember when we first started calling him Waddlehead. I think it was back in Year 7. It was definitely Jock who made it up. He’d seen an old Batman movie and he thought that the Penguin was exactly like Waverton. Except he forgot that he was called Penguin and called him Waddlehead instead. Even though the name was wrong, the walk was spot-on.
The door opened. Instantly Danielli and I straightened to attention. Waddlehead stood with his back to us, facing the window. We walked in silently. Danielli pulled a chair toward the left side and melted into the background, leaving me to face the attack alone.
Sit down, William.
Waddlehead turned around and stared right at me. As he stared he clicked his mouth, like he was trying to get a candy out of his back teeth. Except I couldn’t imagine Waddlehead having candy. It would be more like one of those really bad mints your grandfather offers you as if it was some sort of treat. The room was silent except for Waddlehead’s click … click … click … .
Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Danielli and myself have been thinking long and hard about the appropriate punishment for such a foolish and reckless act, William. However, it has become clear that we cannot view this latest incident, although quite spectacular in its severity, in isolation.
He waved my file in the air.
You, my young man, have been summoned to this office due to a long list of equally serious misdemeanors of which this latest degrading escapade is the final straw.
At this point he stopped the clicking and began to circle me.
Mr. Armstrong, you have come to the end. You will no longer run roughshod over our rules, our school name, our hundred-year-old traditions. It is time for you to step up and accept the consequences for such blatant disregard for St. Andrew’s standards.
I broke into a sweat. My head filled with pictures of Mum’s face.
Long pause. Expulsion is something that was considered very seriously.
I broke into a sweat of a different kind. OK, so no expulsion …
Very seriously. In fact I remain unconvinced that it is not the best course of action for everyone involved. Including you, William.
He slammed my file back onto his desk and it exploded on impact.
However, it appears you are a well-thought-of young man. A number of people wish to see you succeed and make something of yourself—Mr. Danielli being one of them. He has spoken very highly of your past academic performance, your popularity with the boys and your flair on the soccer field. He seems to believe that you can pull yourself back on track.
I tried to look over my shoulder at Danielli but Waddlehead had me trapped.
Is this confidence misplaced, William?
No, sir.
Your mother agrees with Mr. Danielli. It is one of the things she assured me of during our rather lengthy conversation this afternoon.
I really hated it when they brought Mum into it.
She is worried about you, William. She said you seem aimless and distracted. I suggested the school counselor but she said you were very reluctant to go. Quite frankly, it appears you have reached the stage where you need someone to step in and set very firm boundaries for you, as you clearly can no longer decide what is good for you and what is not.
Now, we are well aware you find yourself in a difficult phase at present. But you cannot use what has happened as some sort of excuse. God knows, life will always throw difficult things our way, but it is how we choose to deal with them that shows the real character of a man. However, we will not have it said that St. Andrew’s deserts its troubled students. We have always prided ourselves on having an educational institution that caters to the whole child. As such, we see last week’s act as a clear cry for help.
What the …? All of a sudden I could see myself being carted off to some sort of loony bin.
We have decided to proceed in a somewhat unconventional manner. Actually, you have Mr. Andrews to thank for this suggestion. Yet another member of staff who has gone in to bat for you, William.
I knew Andrews was acting strange in English.
He tells us you’re quite a gifted musician.
What?
William?
Is this true?
I couldn’t tell where the hell this was going and it worried me.
I wouldn’t say gifted, sir. Not like the next Jimi Hendrix, maybe more like …
He started clicking again. I quickly shut up.
As you are no doubt aware, William, the annual combined musical with Lakeside Girls is coming up and there is always a desperate need for volunteers. It is one of the highlights of St. Andrew’s school calendar and an excellent public relations exercise. You, Mr. Armstrong, are to offer your services over the coming months as musician and general dogsbody … whatever role is deemed necessary. But not only that, young man, you will present yourself as an exemplary role model for the junior boys who, unlike you seniors, take the musical very seriously indeed.
He paused and rubbed his chin. Eyeballing me the whole time.
Make sure you thank Mr. Andrews for such a creative solution. This means you can give back to the college in a positive and productive manner—very progressive, very progressive.
A creepy grin filled his face. It was pretty clear that Waddlehead was very pleased with himself.
Well, what do you say?
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Years of cultivating my ranking at St. Andrew’s instantly shattered. The school musical was always on the fringes of geeksville, but to be involved with the band was the lowest. At least when you were acting in the musical you got to hang out with the girls. The band was full of losers.
He continued to look at me. What did he think, that I was going to bend over and kiss his bloody feet? Mr. Andrews was going to die!
Yes sir what, Mr. Armstrong?
Yes, sir, I’ll do it, sir.
Of course you will do it. You have no choice. It is now up to you, William. Do not let us down.
He put his face right into mine and spoke really, really quietly.
Be assured, my boy, if you do there will be no second chances.
Forget the fact that he had just stuck his head in my face, something he would have suspended any kid in the playground for. What bothered me the most was that Waddlehead really needed to suck on one of my grandfather’s mints.
Yes, sir.
I looked over at Mr. Danielli and waited for my cue to get the hell out of there. He thanked Waddlehead for his time, shook his hand and left, looking as relieved as I did to be released. I didn’t know what his problem was. I was the one who had just been signed up for two months’ service in a sheltered workshop.