Special delivery

I walked in the school gates and patted my mate the statue on the head. It had been 1:04 a.m. when I’d shut down the computer and printed out the assignment. I was tired and sore but I was bloody happy to be rid of it. I walked over to the senior quad feeling that things were finally settling down. The boys had moved from handball to playing touch footy with one of those little balls. It was a fairly disjointed game, though, because they’d stop whenever Danielli came out of his office.

I copped it as soon as they saw me.

Willo, mate. That’s one to be proud of!

Jock was reaching his grubby mitts out toward my eye.

Does it hurt?

I pushed him and his hands away.

Back off, Jock, go put your fingers in your own eye.

Then Tim started. So how’s Elizabeth? She’s hot, man!

There was no way they were going to hear that sad story.

Yeah, she’s great.

I just had to figure out a way of letting her know I still thought that.

Jock was looking at me really strangely. I looked at him as if to say What? and then it finally came to me. He wanted me to ask him about the girls.

So how about you, Jock? Any luck?

Funny you should ask, Willo, but there was a certain chorus girl who caught my eye. Mark said he’d get her number for me.

That’s great, Jock. I turned to scan the quad. So have you seen Mark?

Nah, I don’t think he’s in yet.

I knew St. Andrew’s well enough to know that things could get a bit messy for Mark, especially if the tuckshop boys started again. And not just that, what happened on Saturday night would be around the school by morning admin. But I reckoned he’d handle it. We’d handle it. Even Tim and Jock. I had to remember to ask Mark to invite me when he let them in on the fact that he was dead serious when he told the thugs that he was indeed a poofter.

Andrews’s assignment was weighing as heavy as twenty bricks in my bag. The boys reminded me we didn’t have English until tomorrow but I didn’t care. Andrews had gone on and on about Monday and I was going to make a special delivery just so I could see his face. I went and knocked on the staff room door and asked for him.

Andrews came to the door carrying his trademark mug of coffee.

Nice eye.

I nodded. I wondered if the news had made it to the staff room.

I heard there was some trouble. Did things turn out OK?

And they reckon us kids are bad for gossip.

Yeah, sir, I think so. I haven’t seen Mark yet, but yeah.

I didn’t want to go on about it. After all, it was really Mark’s business and he knew Andrews well enough to tell him himself if he wanted to.

I reached into my bag.

Sir, I wanted to give you this.

I handed him the assignment. I wish I could have taken a picture of his face, he was so shocked.

But, Will, we don’t have English today.

I know that now, sir. But did you know that, sir?

Whatever it takes, Will. Whatever it takes. We called a truce, remember?

Yeah, I remembered, but would he? I thought for a moment about telling him that I could see now how me, the musical and the special assignment were all part of his tough-love policy, but I wanted to suss out how that truce went first.

The best I could do was nod in acknowledgment.

I’ll see you in English, sir.

And I walked away feeling that for the first time in ages I’d nailed him.