Blue Like Friday (2 page)
Authors: Siobhan Parkinson
H
al got the idea for the kite one day when we were on the Low Strand. I don't know why they call it that, because it's not as if there is a High Strand. Don't ask me why. I didn't invent the geography, I just live here.
al got the idea for the kite one day when we were on the Low Strand. I don't know why they call it that, because it's not as if there is a High Strand. Don't ask me why. I didn't invent the geography, I just live here.
“Here” is Balnamara, and it's a long way from anywhere, my mother always says, which is ridiculous, because every place is just beside the place next to it, isn't it, no matter where it is? What she means is, it's a long way from Dublin, which is her idea of somewhere. We have a set of traffic lights on the main street, though, and a hospital on the other side of town from the strand. There's a golf club just outside town, and a new Thai restaurant in the Market Square, and the old courthouse has been turned into a swanky new arts center with a coffee shop where you can have all kinds of fancy coffees in tall glasses, and there's a big shopping center with a pay-and-display car park. It is not exactly the back of beyond.
The Low Strand is pretty low, I suppose. It is one of those strands that gets totally engulfed when the tide comes in, with water right up to the seawall. I suppose that is the
reason it is only a strand and not a beach. It is not very golden or good to lie on, but is large and flat and gray and damp-to-sloppy. The tide seems to be mostly out, and then there's no sign of the sea at all, except for a seaweedy tang on the air and lukewarm little puddles in the gloopy sand, good for splashing in.
reason it is only a strand and not a beach. It is not very golden or good to lie on, but is large and flat and gray and damp-to-sloppy. The tide seems to be mostly out, and then there's no sign of the sea at all, except for a seaweedy tang on the air and lukewarm little puddles in the gloopy sand, good for splashing in.
It was summertime, or nearly, or we wouldn't have been on the Low Strand in the first place, but it was that bit of summer before the holidays start, a sort of in-between time. It was in-between weather too, not warm like summer should be, but not so cold you'd need a coat. Sort of undecided.
The tide was coming lazily in, and we'd been paddling, me and Hal. The water wasn't deep enough to swim in, because the tide was only half in, and anyway we aren't allowed to swim unless we have a parent with us, even if there is a lifeguard, which is just so yawn-making, but there you go, that's just one of those ways parents (even fairly nice ones) oppress us kids. They call it being responsible. I call it being a pain.
There were these young kids on the strand as well as us. I don't know who let
them
out on their own, they were only about four. Well, seven, maybe, or eight at the most. There were three or four of them, all together, and they had this kite, a multicolored one with a face, quite funny, with mad purple streamers coming out of it. There was a bit of a breeze, and the kite was bobbing around at a great rate, and
the streamers were whizzing over the kids' heads. We watched them while we were drying our toes. We didn't have a towel, of course, so we had to use tissues. I do not recommend this: they melt.
them
out on their own, they were only about four. Well, seven, maybe, or eight at the most. There were three or four of them, all together, and they had this kite, a multicolored one with a face, quite funny, with mad purple streamers coming out of it. There was a bit of a breeze, and the kite was bobbing around at a great rate, and
the streamers were whizzing over the kids' heads. We watched them while we were drying our toes. We didn't have a towel, of course, so we had to use tissues. I do not recommend this: they melt.
“I'd like a kite,” Hal said dreamily, watching the kite soaring overhead.
“Well, I'm sure you could get one,” I said. I am the practical one, in case you haven't noticed. “I'd say they have them in Spóirt na Mara.” That's the name of the sports shop in the new shopping center. Very TG4, my father says.
“Oh no,” Hal said. “I'd have to make it. Otherwise it wouldn't be the same.”
The same as what, I never did find out.
After a while, we got tired of watching the purple-streaming kite and the kids, and we started to mooch off home. As we got to the edge of the strandâthere's a rocky bit just before the seawallâHal stooped down and grabbed a handful of beach pebbles and put them in his pocket.
“What are you going to do with those?” I asked him.
“They're for Him. I mean, for his shoes. I need to keep my supply replenished.”
“What?”
I asked suspiciously.
I asked suspiciously.
Have I mentioned that my friend Hal is a bit of a weirdo? Not megaweird, not so's you'd notice on a good day with the wind to his back, but still quite peculiar at times. I could feel one of Hal's weirdnesses coming on, with this business of the pebbles.
“Well, you know,” he said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world to be discussing, “if you put a pebble in each shoe every night, then the stock soon runs down.”
“Him,” by the way, the one with the shoes, is Hal's sort-of-stepfather. His real name is Alec, but Hal never calls him anything except “Him.” As you can gather, Hal is not too fond of Alec.
Alec and Hal's mum weren't actually married. I don't know whyâmost people of that age seem to beâbut Hal had this theory that they had something up their sleeves, because Alec had moved in with them only a few weeks before “on a trial basis,” and Hal said that meant they were probably going to get hitched, and he was desperate to make sure that they didn't.
Fat chance of preventing that, if you ask me. Grown-ups have their own ideas when it comes to who they want to marry, and there's no point in kids having an opinion, that's for sure, because it'll only End in Tears, as my mum says. (My mum is not bad for an adult, but like all mothers, she has these maddening little sayings.)
“You put
pebbles
in Alec's shoes every night?” I imagine you could have heard the surprise in my voice several miles (or knots or fathoms or whatever it is) out to sea.
pebbles
in Alec's shoes every night?” I imagine you could have heard the surprise in my voice several miles (or knots or fathoms or whatever it is) out to sea.
“Yeah,” said Hal offhandedly, as if everyone did it.
“But that's mean,” I said. “Also ineffective.”
“What do you mean, âineffective'?”
“Well, Hal, think about it. If you found there were
stones in your shoes every single morning, what would you think?”
stones in your shoes every single morning, what would you think?”
“I'd think it must be a poor, unhappy boy trying to give me the message that I am not welcome in his family.”
“No, you wouldn't, Hal. What you'd think is: somehow or other, for some unfathomable reason, there are pebbles in my shoes every morning; therefore, I should shake out my shoes before I put them on.”
“Oh,” said Hal. “I never thought of that.”
“So there's no point, is there?” I said.
But I bet he went on doing it anyway.
I asked Hal a few more questions about his home life after that, and it turned out he had a whole one-boy campaign going on to make life difficult for Alec. For example, he used to leave the hot tap runningâon
purposeâ
to waste the hot water. Also, he opened the windows in cold weather so that they would have to pay more for the central heating. This took the biscuit for weird behavior, in my view, as well as being environment-unfriendly in the extreme. Anyway, it was probably his mother who paid the heating bills, since it was her house, but I suppose he wanted to annoy her as well.
purposeâ
to waste the hot water. Also, he opened the windows in cold weather so that they would have to pay more for the central heating. This took the biscuit for weird behavior, in my view, as well as being environment-unfriendly in the extreme. Anyway, it was probably his mother who paid the heating bills, since it was her house, but I suppose he wanted to annoy her as well.
“But what about global warming?” I said, when he let me in on this fiendish little secret.
“I don't think the heat escaping from our windows is going to melt any icebergs,” he said loftily.
“It's not icebergs, you dolt,” I said. “It's the ice
cap
. But
that's not the point. The point is that it's terribly wasteful.”
cap
. But
that's not the point. The point is that it's terribly wasteful.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Of their money. That'll teach them.”
“No!” I said in exasperation. “It's a waste of oil, which is a scarce resource, and it means even more fossil fuel is burned, and that contributes to global warming. That's very irresponsible of you, Hal.”
“Oh!” he said. “I never thought of that.”
There are a lot of things Hal hasn't ever thought of, you may have noticed.
“Hal, you are so weird,” I said.
And not all that desperately intelligent either, I thought to myself, because if your plan is to make sure your mother doesn't marry someone, putting stones in his shoes is really not terribly likely to work, is it? It might give you some small evil pleasure, sure enough, but as a master plan for influencing the future shape of your family, I'd say it scores about zilch.
“Anyway, I don't understand what is so awful about Alec,” I said.
“It's hard to explain,” Hal said shiftily.
“Well, look, is he mean to you? Does he, you know, hit you or ⦠um ⦠anything?”
By “anything” I meant those awful things you read about in the papers that bad adults do to children that make them utterly miserable and mess them up for life. I didn't really want to think about it, but it must be absolutely terrible if that happens to you, so I made a special effort to listen to
Hal, in case that was the problem. I was quite pleased with myself for thinking of it.
Hal, in case that was the problem. I was quite pleased with myself for thinking of it.
“No,” Hal said. “He's not ⦠no, it's not that.”
“So, what is it, then?”
“He's just â¦
there
,” Hal said. “I liked it better before.”
there
,” Hal said. “I liked it better before.”
“Hmm,” I said.
“He snores,” Hal added. “I can hear Him, even through the bedroom door.”
“He snores,” I said. “That is not exactly a jailing offence, Hal.”
“No, and he ⦠er, picks his nose. I saw Him once.”
Oh gross, I thought, but I said, “Everyone picks their nose, Hal. In private. Was he in private?”
“Well, he thought he was, I suppose,” Hal said.
“That doesn't count then,” I said. “What else?”
“He slurps his tea,” Hal said. “And he hogs the remote control.”
“Hal, you are just describing a person being a
person.
Everyone hogs the remote if they get a chance. You have to make allowances for other people. That's just â¦
life,
you know?”
person.
Everyone hogs the remote if they get a chance. You have to make allowances for other people. That's just â¦
life,
you know?”
“But he shouldn't be in
my
life,” Hal said fiercely. “I just don't want Him
around.
It was better when it was just me and my mum.”
my
life,” Hal said fiercely. “I just don't want Him
around.
It was better when it was just me and my mum.”
“Hal, he's been around for
years;
it's time you got used to it. And if your mum is going to marry him, well, you'll be a proper family then, won't you? And that's nice, isn't it?”
years;
it's time you got used to it. And if your mum is going to marry him, well, you'll be a proper family then, won't you? And that's nice, isn't it?”
I was trying to look on the bright side, you know, cheer him up, but I think it was just that Alec was not Hal's dad. I'd say that was the problem, nothing to do with Alec himself, not really I know that is a bit psychological of me, but it stands to reason, doesn't it? You wouldn't want somebody else in your family, would you, that didn't belong there? I wouldn't anyway. I like things staying the way they are, and I bet Hal is the same. And a stepparent is for life, isn't he, not just for Christmas?
Alec was going to have a rough time with Hal. I could see it coming. But I was Hal's friend. I had to take his side, didn't I? No matter what.
I
have two other so-called friends, Rosemarie and Gilda, but they annoy me a lot of the timeâthere was an incident about a jacket last term that I haven't forgiven them forâso a lot of the time I just hang around with Hal at school. That's not the only reason I am friendly with Hal of course; I also like him a lot. Hal is like a little white mouse with a twitchy nose. You can't help liking him, even if the twitch drives you mad.
have two other so-called friends, Rosemarie and Gilda, but they annoy me a lot of the timeâthere was an incident about a jacket last term that I haven't forgiven them forâso a lot of the time I just hang around with Hal at school. That's not the only reason I am friendly with Hal of course; I also like him a lot. Hal is like a little white mouse with a twitchy nose. You can't help liking him, even if the twitch drives you mad.
The only other boy I know really well apart from Hal is my older brother, Larry. He is the very opposite of Hal in every way. Larry follows a football team, for example. You can probably guess that Hal doesn't do anything as ordinary as that. I know which team Larry follows, but I'm not going to tell you, because if you have your own favorite team, it might be the same one, and then you would think that Larry must be a great fellow and really like him, and that wouldn't be right at all, because Larry is the world's drippiest drip. He's not evil, but he's dead boring. My mother says it's just the age difference between us that is the problem, and when I am older I will appreciate Larry's
excellent qualities, and meanwhile I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
excellent qualities, and meanwhile I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
I'll try to give you an example of what Larry is like, so you'll understand my problem.
“If you were a cathedral,” Hal asked me one day, “would you be Gothic or Romanesque?” (We did cathedrals at school because our teacher is into cool stuff like that. We have the best teacher ever. She's the adult most like a kid I can think of.)
This is a game we call Biscuits, by the way, because it began with a question about biscuits: “If you were a biscuit, would you be a Kimberley or a Mikado?” The game is that you answer the question and you explain why. For example, I would be a Kimberleyâyou know, the squidgy ones with the gingery outsidesâbecause there is a bit of spice to me. Rosemarie and Gilda would both be Mikadoâpink and fluffy and too sweet to be good for you. It goes on and on: “If you were a woman in the Bible, would you be Ruth or Naomi?” “If you were a hero-warrior, would you be Fionn Mac Cumhail or Cú Chulainn?” It's quite a good game if you like that sort of thing, and you find out things about people that you wouldn't have suspected.
“I wouldn't be a cathedral,” Larry butted in. “I'd rather be the Colosseum.”
Now, that is typical of Larry. Wants to muscle in on me and Hal's games all the time, and messing everything up.
We both turned on him and yelled, because that's
cheating, of course. You can't bob out and change the question, because if you let people do that, the whole game would just disintegrate, and there wouldn't be any point to it. Rosemarie and Gilda would be two semidetached houses with mown lawns and stiff little hedges, but that wasn't the question asked.
cheating, of course. You can't bob out and change the question, because if you let people do that, the whole game would just disintegrate, and there wouldn't be any point to it. Rosemarie and Gilda would be two semidetached houses with mown lawns and stiff little hedges, but that wasn't the question asked.
“You can't be the Colosseum,” I said sternly. “You have to stick with cathedrals. That's how the game works. You answer the question asked.”
“Oh,” said Larry. “I didn't know that.”
“And anyway,” I said, “nobody asked you. I'd be Gothic,” I said then, to Hal, “and so would you. Larry'd be Romanesque.”
“No, I wouldn't,” said Larry. “I could be the same as you two. Why do I have to be different?”
Larry doesn't know anything about cathedrals, even though he is older than us. They don't do interesting stuff where he goes to school, only math and French and economics. But he is definitely Romanesque: symmetrical and straightforward, a bit like a penguin, very black and white. Hal and I are Gothic because we're over the top, with unexpected twists, and maybe just a little bit monstrous.
Well, I suppose it wasn't really Larry's fault he didn't understand the game properly, so to be nice to him, I said, “Let's play I Spy.”
Now, you probably think of this as a little kids' game,
and that is exactly what it is, but Larry likes it, even though he is practically drawing the old-age pension, because he can always think up things that are impossible to guessâwords like “flange” or “pivot,” which no sane person under about thirty-five knowsâbut you can never say he's cheating because there always is one of those mad things in the room, so he wins.
and that is exactly what it is, but Larry likes it, even though he is practically drawing the old-age pension, because he can always think up things that are impossible to guessâwords like “flange” or “pivot,” which no sane person under about thirty-five knowsâbut you can never say he's cheating because there always is one of those mad things in the room, so he wins.
I don't mind him winning, but it gets boring after a while if you know you are never going to be able to guess the answers, though I have to admit you do get to know a lot of useless words.
After a while I noticed that Hal wasn't joining in the guessing. It was a word beginning with
h
, and I'd tried all the obvious things like “house” and “Hal” and “hearth” and “honey” and “herringbone-patterned curtains.” (We don't usually allow adjectives, but I was scraping the barrel.) When I looked at Hal for inspiration, he was muttering something to himself.
h
, and I'd tried all the obvious things like “house” and “Hal” and “hearth” and “honey” and “herringbone-patterned curtains.” (We don't usually allow adjectives, but I was scraping the barrel.) When I looked at Hal for inspiration, he was muttering something to himself.
“Is that a spell you're chanting?” I asked him.
“Hmm,” he said.
“Hmm?” I guessed, though of course you can't spy a hmm. (I told you, I was scraping the barrel.)
Larry shook his head and looked smug.
“It's my plan,” said Hal. “I'm working out the details.”
“Plan doesn't begin with
h
,” I said, which was a very feeble joke, but I was tired of the game by now.
h
,” I said, which was a very feeble joke, but I was tired of the game by now.
“No. I mean I'm just hatching it,” Hal said.
“Hatch?” I guessed. We were in our dining room, and there is a hatch into the kitchen. We don't use it, because there's a computer in front of it, so it's barely visible, which is why I hadn't guessed it before.
“There, you see!” said Larry crossly. “That's what happens when I choose an ordinary wordâyou win. I should have stuck with my first idea, which was âhasp.'”
“Is there a hasp?” I asked, looking around. I was not exactly sure what a hasp was, but I had an idea it had something to do with windows.
“No,” said Larry. “That's why I had to change it to hatch.”
This was such a ridiculous thing that we all collapsed in giggles, and for the next quarter of an hour, all we could think of to say to each other was, “Well, of course âhasp' is a much more difficult word to guess, the only problem is there isn't a hasp in the house,” and then we'd go off into gales of laughter again. “There isn't a hasp in the house,” we'd roar, “not a one.”
But Hal was not to be distracted, and after a while he said to Larry, “We need you for this plan.”
Note that fatal “we.” That included me, I could feel it in my bones, but I hadn't agreed to anything. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't imagine what was coming next, but I knew it wouldn't be good.
“We need someone with a grown-up voice to leave a message on his answering machine,” Hal explained.
There he went with that “we” again. Anyway, I wouldn't exactly say that Larry's voice is grown-up. It's sort of baritone-ish, I suppose, most of the time, but it's still at that stage where it could go off the scale at any moment. All the same, I suppose it is more grown-up than Hal's pip-squeaky little treble.
“No,” I said sharply. “Leave Larry out of this, Hal. Whatever it is.”
I could just see Hal landing us all in some sort of trouble, and I'd end up, as usual, being the one having to do all the explaining, and if Larry was in on whatever it was from the outset, then he'd know everything, whatever there was to know, and I'd have a hard time trying to explain it all away with him hovering about saying, “It was all Olivia's fault,” which is probably his favorite sentence in the world.
Hal gave me a pained look. It's hard to describe a pained look, but you'll know it if you ever see it. It's where a person looks at you as if you have said or done the most incredibly insensitive thing and deeply hurt their feelings, but they are not going to say anything because they are such a fine person, and then you feel really small, and you would do anything to prove to them that, really, you love them to bits and you wouldn't dream of hurting them.
“Larry won't mind helping out,” Hal said. “And it's nothing to worry about, it's just a little practical joke, really.”
“We don't do practical jokes, Hal,” I said. “That's not our style.”
That's not exactly what I meant. What I meant was that anything Hal was going to come up with was probably going to be seriously kooky. I mean, think of the kookiest idea you can imagine and then double its kooky value, and that's the kind of kooky idea Hal has.
“Olivia, I need to get this man out of my life,” he said. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Now, I know that sounds as if he was going to murder someone, but I knew Hal wouldn't really do anything totally evil. I was kind of curious to know what, exactly, he had in mind. And anyway, distracting him from leaving hot taps running just to spite his sort-of-stepfather was quite a useful thing and could be my good deed for the environment this summer, so I caved in and said, “Go on then, tell us.”
“Well,” said Hal, “this is the plan, but you have to promise Utter Secrecy before I tell you. You must not breathe a word about my plan, especially not to anyone old enough to vote, or I won't let you in on it. Promise? Cross your hearts and hope to die?”
You know, if he hadn't made it all sound so mysterious, we'd probably have lost interest in the whole project, and then it might never have happened, but he'd got me hooked now, so I nodded. I crossed my heart and turned my palm outward and vowed eternal secrecy.
This was a bad, bad move. And the worst part is, I knew
it, even at the time, but that doesn't always help, does it? You can know something is all wrong and still find yourself getting dragged into it because the other person is so set on it.
it, even at the time, but that doesn't always help, does it? You can know something is all wrong and still find yourself getting dragged into it because the other person is so set on it.
Oh dear.
If this were a film instead of a book, there'd be eerie music with an insistent drumbeat in the background at this point:
dooh-dooh-DOOH dooh, dooh-dooh-DOOH dooh, ka-bim, ka-bam, ka-BOOM
.
dooh-dooh-DOOH dooh, dooh-dooh-DOOH dooh, ka-bim, ka-bam, ka-BOOM
.
You can probably guess that All Did Not Go According to Plan.
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