Read They Told Me I Had to Write This Online

Authors: Kim Miller

Tags: #juvenile fiction, #Social Issues, #Sexual Abuse, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse, #violence, #Dating & Sex, #Adolescence, #General, #Love & Romance, #Juvenile Nonfiction, #bullying, #School & Education, #family

They Told Me I Had to Write This (3 page)

BOOK: They Told Me I Had to Write This
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Mr O’Neill knows this stuff backwards and he knows what we are and he says he’s known it from the first session. He reckons he can tell what we are by looking at us when we are talking about stuff. How about that? It’s how our eyes move. OK, it’s weird but that’s what he said. And we reckon I am a kinesthetic and I have remembered the word this time.

Anyway, he looks at Jacko and says, Jacko I can see that you are a visual, and seeing is an important way for you to learn about the world and you probably say things like, ‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’

Well, Jacko went right off. He started on about people looking at him all the time and they didn’t have a right and suddenly he was talking about this guy in the Little Nippers in the surf lifesaving. So there he was going on about this coach in Little Nippers and, ‘Look what he did back then, ’ and this coach was taking photos of all the kids without their Speedos on and showing them around the internet and the coppers caught this bloke and even Jacko’s mum saw the photos they had of him coz she was in the court as a witness.

He was a fully sick peddo that guy I reckon and Jacko was crying in group and everything. That sucks, Gram. Sometimes I cry in private session but not in group, nobody ever does that. That would make everyone think ‘Hardcore Emo!!’ And that guy is now in jail coz he had so many photos of the Little Nippers like that and he did that for years before the coppers got him. And Jacko is now here coz of getting into so much trouble in normal school like I used to.

The funny thing is that Jacko is always up in front of people so they have to look at him. He’s funny, that’s why we call him Whacko Jacko, and he doesn’t mind that, as long as it’s one of his mates. He can get the teachers stirred up over something that he does and sometimes you can see the teachers trying not to smile when they tell him to cool it.

Poor Jacko. Always being in front of people with his funny stuff but he hates it when people look at him. All Mr O’Neill did was say that Jacko was a visual. Sure took everyone by surprise, that did.

Anyway, when he went fully off like that all us others just sat there and we didn’t know how to handle it. And Mr O’Neill waited for Jacko to calm down and said that he could see that Jacko had been carrying some heavy stuff for a long time.

That’s all he said and nobody else said anything. I reckon Mr O’Neill should have said something more than that to make Jacko feel better. Even when I’m telling you about him I can feel my eyes getting hot, for Jacko that is, but I won’t let that happen coz there’s more I want to say.

Do you remember what used to happen when I was living at your place and sometimes I fell off my bike or my razor scooter and mashed up my knees? I would get upset and crying and you would hold me like it was part hug and part hold-me-down until I stopped crying a bit so you could fix my knees. There was sand and dirt under the skin and you used to slowly get it out with that stuff and the washcloth.

Well, I reckon this school is a bit like that. It’s a bit like being in one of your hold-me-downs while they get stuff out from under your skin. That’s what I’ve been thinking about since Jacko got upset and it started me again on remembering that teacher in year five and that is why I wanted to cry for Jacko. If ever I have a son I’m never going to let that sort of stuff happen to him, no way.

So that’s been my week and how I’ve got through it. Bit rough but it’s over.

Your kinesthetic grandson, still feeling every bump since spilling in the gully.

Clem.

FRIDAY, MAY 15
NEVER LET A CHAINSAW KNOW YOU ARE IN A HURRY

Dear Gram

I reckon it’s about time that I told you we do more here than just riding mountain bikes.

We do English and our English teacher is, get this one, Mr German. How about that? That is stand-up comedy that one. Ha ha. Anyway, I am getting better at English and it is not so bad in this place. And get this. We started out with only one English class a week and now there are two which is a bit weird but still OK by me.

We also do maths and science stuff and computers and agriculture even with chainsaws which is very upmarket. There’s not many teachers coz there’s not many boys here. Mr German does English and computers, and Mr Williams has maths and science, and Mr O’Neill is group-meister and school office, and Mr Sykes tries to teach us ag and outdoor stuff, and the Rev does sessions and office.

And there is Mr and Mrs Hartley who are the most fun. They are older than the other teachers and live at the school and they do the Shack, which is where we do live-ins but is better than a shack, but only a bit. Mr Hartley rules the bike shed and teaches us about fixing buckled wheels. He is always coming up with funny stuff to tell us like, ‘It is a very bad idea to let a chainsaw know you are in a hurry.’ I got my chainsaw licence pretty early so I must have been in a hurry but not showing it.

Mrs H teaches us food prep for live-in and camps. I reckon she worries about us a bit but tries not to show it. When Mrs H speaks softly we listen up.

The school is not too far out of town and looks like a big old farmhouse with some sheds close by. They are the shed for the camping stuff and the bike shed. It’s all newer than it looks. The shack definitely looks old and is the shed from the original farmhouse which is where Mr and Mrs Hartley live.

The teachers all ride mountain bikes with us and when we are on camps we don’t always know who is taking us each time. They do things differently around here.

In one of the campsites they have this ropes course where you climb up into tall trees and walk along the ropes to the next tree and it’s about twenty metres up. Well, that’s what it feels like. These ropes are so high that when we first tried it out Jacko said, ‘I wish I’d listened to what my mum used to say when I was little,’ and someone said, ‘What did your mum used to say?’ and Jacko said, ‘I don’t know, I never listened.’ And that got us laughing coz everyone was nervous looking up at those ropes.

Anyway, on the high ropes we have a buddy who belays us, which means he holds a safety rope that runs through a gadget higher up in the trees so we won’t fall if we slip off. When we do ropes we wear a harness that clips to the belay rope like we are full-on mountain climbers. It is fully technical. We are going to go rock climbing and abseiling once we get OK on the high ropes and that will be madaz.

These teachers are a bit above average somehow. I can answer a lot of the stuff already and I hardly ever go agro-biotic in class like I used to.

I like ag and we eat the stuff that we grow and there are some sheep and a calf that we look after. The sheep can be a pain coz they are dumb but the calf is more like having a dog, except for its shape and its size and everything else about it. Ha ha. The calf was a bull calf but it isn’t any more since Mr Sykes got a bit bloodthirsty around his rear end.

He asked for help to hold the calf down when he did it and some of the other boys thought it was fun and helped him. Not me, though. And then Mr Sykes put his pocketknife back in his belt just like that. He uses that pocketknife when we are out on camp. I think my stomach is going to do something bad thinking about this. Time to change the subject.

We also keep chooks and they lay eggs that we eat. In the early days the chooks used to squawk and peck if they were still sitting on the eggs. These days we rule the chook-house. If we get to an egg when it’s new enough we can carefully squeeze it into a different shape and that is cleverarity at its best I reckon.

I am still thinking about the calf. Hope it didn’t hurt too much.

This kinesthetic thing is a bit much at times.

Clem.

SUNDAY, MAY 17
MERCY ME

Dear Gram

You know how I was talking about names and how Clement as a name was so seriously weird?

Well, I asked Dad why I got Clement. There must be no other person in the country called that. He got a bit upset and I was like, ‘Here we go again, now I’m going to cop it.’ But he didn’t yell me out or anything. Told me I was named after my mum. Linda Clemency coz the oldest daughter always got Clemency as a second name. Said it’s an old-fashioned word that means mercy. I got Clement because when Mum died there would be no daughter. How come I didn’t know all that?

Dad sure gets upset for a long time. But it’s OK and he settled out of it and we played PlayStation like we haven’t done for ages. I beat him good. Show no mercy. Ha ha.

So now I know. It’s all good, like I’ve still got a bit of Mum after all. I hope so. Can’t wait to hear Clem the Clam next, then I’ll show no mercy.

I’m writing this early and today is going to be a great day. Mountain bike race this afternoon and I am going to be fully pumping it. Mr Rev with the fancy shockers, I might only have a hardtail but you are going to be copping it from Mr Merciful. Ha ha.

I wonder if I can get a mountain bike shirt with Show No Mercy written on it. That would be top gun.

Your merciful grandson,

Clem.

THURSDAY, MAY 21
LIFTING THE LID ON THE APRILIA

Dear Gram

I was in town again. It was busier than normal for some reason. People everywhere getting in the way. And you know what? I saw the Rev with a passenger on his Aprilia. It has got a seat after all. I thought the cover was for a toolbox or something. So how about that?

He was riding past with one of the kids on the back. The little boy looked like a koala hanging on real hard, kind of cute with this big helmet way bigger than his head could be coz he was only about ten. This time I waved and the little boy waved back as well as the Rev. That was good.

I wonder if I should call him Mr Paterson if I ever see him in town like that. This time he saw me and so I’m wondering what might happen in our session this time. How would it be if he said again, ‘Tell me what you were thinking when you saw us ride past.’ But I’m going to get in ahead of him. I’m going to say, ‘Tell me what you were thinking when you saw me in the street on Saturday.’ See what he says to that, eh? Ha ha.

The good thing is that I was just happy for that boy to have such a mega bike to ride around on and to have a dad like that. But I didn’t choke up over it this time. I was sure glad that a bike like that has a seat for a passenger. Sure would be a waste of space if it didn’t.

You know what? I can’t figure out if I’d rather have a cool girlfriend or a hot motorbike. That Aprilia sure is a lovely looking lady. It’s got to be a she, no bloke could look that pretty. And could you imagine a bloke with a name like April? That would be fully off.

Tell you what though, Augustus is a man’s name and there is a motorbike called an Augusta Brutale. That bike is definitely a bloke. Couldn’t have a girl named Brutal.

Hey, just thought of something. This beautiful girl named April marries a tough bloke named Augustus and they have lots of kids. They could call them names like Honda and Suzuki and Yamaha. Dumb joke there.

Anyway, I reckon it’ll soon be time – again! – to put the hard word on Dad for a mountain bike with shockers front and back. Long travel, adjustable rebound, remote lockouts. Rock Shocks, that’s what I want, girlfriend or no girlfriend. No passenger stuff for this dude, I’m fully into it when I’m pumping those pedals on that track. There’s nothing like what happens to me out there when I’m racing and fully into it. See me on that road and don’t expect a wave, I’m gone through the next corner as fast as I appear out of the last one. Way to go Gram.

Clem.

TUESDAY, MAY 26
OUT FOR THE COUNT

Dear Gram

The Rev did it to me again. Or I did it to myself more probably. We had our session and I said what I was going to say. I even practised it so I wouldn’t get it wrong.

Started out with, ‘I saw you on the motorbike.’ And he said, ‘I saw you too.’ And I said, ‘Tell me what you were thinking when you saw me in the street on Saturday.’ Round one to Clem I reckoned.

But he said, ‘That sentence sounds like you might have thought it up to say even before you got here today.’

I was like shocked and didn’t know what to say right off and I said, ‘Yeah.’ It was like round two to the Rev.

So he said, ‘You might even have practised it a bit so you wouldn’t get it wrong.’

‘Yeah,’ again from me. How did he guess that? Round three down.

Then he said, ‘What else could you have said today if you didn’t say what you’d practised?’ Round four and I was out for the count.

I really blew up and I said, ‘That bike has got a passenger seat after all and that’s just as well because if it can’t take a passenger it’s taking up too much space.’

And he said, ‘Some people might think that a statement like that could refer to a person as much as to a motorbike. What do you reckon?’

And then I lost it fully toxic. Suddenly I was exploding angry and upset all at once and even without thinking if what he said was right or wrong I was like, ‘That’s just like how Dad is! Dad’s like a motorbike that can’t take a passenger,’ and I was stalking around the room and hitting the wall and the door and everything and out of the window was the Aprilia sitting there in the car park. I could have gone out there and blasted it into the ground. And I was shouting out, ‘My dad’s got this cover over the passenger seat where I should be but he’s still my dad and he should take that cover off.’

BOOK: They Told Me I Had to Write This
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