The Betrayal of Bindy Mackenzie (26 page)

The Philosophical Musings of Bindy Mackenzie
5.22
pm
Later, I saw that I had no right to feel proud. Cassie is not my friend, and in no way ‘belongs' to me. She might be in my ‘year' but she's in a whole other ‘class'.

Typically, my mother is oblivious to issues of class. You see, Emily, Lydia and Cassie are all going to Mum's sailing school (her latest business venture) over the summer. It happened this way: Mum offered places at the school as prizes for the concert. Cassie was the winner, of course, and Lydia, by chance, was runner-up. Emily's parents will pay for her to join her best friends.

Mum thinks I should come too—she doesn't have a clue! I could hardly spend a summer with Emily Thompson. She HATES me. I am still in trouble for that error I made about a name.

Are mistakes not allowed once in a while?

Dural Ladies Social Club
Scholarship for Outstanding Achievement
By a Student in Year 10
Textbook Allowance for All Year 11 Textbooks
Presented to:
Bindy Mackenzie

DIARY ENTRY
Friday, 19 November

Dearest Diary,
Some funny things happened today, and it would help, I think, to unravel them here in your pages. I hope you do not mind.

It was shortly after school had finished for today.

I was sitting on a garden seat, which nobody else seems to know about. It's in the shadows of the Japanese maple outside the library. It's my favourite place to sit on these warm days, and sometimes I type transcripts of conversations floating by.

Anyway, the first thing that happened was that Toby Mazzerati ‘floated' by. He noticed me—people usually do not – and I felt oddly proud of his excellent eyesight. He made a humorous comment about how quickly I type on my laptop. I did not mind.

And then the strangest thing happened: I was suddenly convinced that Toby was about to ask me to the Year 10 Formal. I widened my eyes, my mouth dropped open, and I stared straight at his face. I suppose I may have terrified him.

Toby smiled, and continued on his way, talking in that strange poetic style he has, and I dropped my eyes again.

Now, if that were not enough, a few moments later, two substitute teachers came striding by. They did not notice me at all. They were arguing about the intelligence levels of a Polish exchange student.

And an extraordinary thing happened! One of the teachers became so upset she
lost her temper and slapped the first
!
It was a hard slap. The victim cried out, her hands rushing up to protect her face (too late), and the folder she
was carrying thudded to the ground. Loose papers were taken by the breeze.

I rushed to collect the papers, and offered my details to the victim. I said I would be glad to testify on her behalf, should she wish to take legal action for the assault.

I will not sully my diary by recording the teacher's response.

I will only say that I now feel in a state of shock, as if my heart has been subject to too much today: the quivering moment when I thought Toby would ask me to the Formal; the surprise at the raised voices of teachers; the shock of a violent attack; the cruel rejection of my offer to help . . .

I suppose I will be all right.

NOTE FOR BINDY MACKENZIE FROM MRS LILYDALE
Hi Bindy,
The school year is winding up and the time of exams and clean-up is upon us. The time of celebration too! It gladdened my heart to see you and Ernst attending the Formal as ‘friends' last night. Perfect! You were both so dignified. If only others took their cue from you!

I just want to wish you well for Year 11, Bindy. I'm sure you will continue to shine—over the last few years, you've been such a hit, both academically and with your extracurricular activities. Such successes with the Duke of Edinburgh Award, the Tournament of Minds and debating. Such a strident voice in the School Representative Council, despite howls of protest from your classmates! And I hear you're not too awful at netball and squash any more either!

On a more personal note, you were a ray of light in this
difficult year, and I will miss your visits next year. Drop by whenever you like, won't you—and
do
take these carob-coated energy drops. I'm enclosing a box for your summer, but come by early next year and I'll give you another. They'll help to ensure that you keep up your dazzling performance in your senior years.

So long!
Mrs Lilydale

DIARYENTRY
Thursday, 16 December

Only one more day of school. And only one more page of this Diary . . . What can it mean? Will life thence come to an end?

Tomorrow, we get our report cards. (I received Band 6 results in each of the five courses I took for the school certificate. Still, I'm always fearful about report cards.)

Next year (if life does not end), all will be different . . .

No more Mrs Lilydale as Year Co-ordinator.

No more Kelly Simonds. (She's going to be an exchange student in Austria.)

Ernst and I had a farewell party for Kelly at recess. (Her other friends had a cake for her at lunch.) It's a small thing, but at one point during the party, I asked Kelly what the time was. She raised an eyebrow archly. ‘A hair past a freckle,' she said, holding out her hand to show me that she didn't have a watch.

I don't know. Perhaps the people of Vienna will appreciate Kelly's wit, but I'm not sure it's her best feature.

Next year, no more parents either! They've decided to move into the city and leave me behind. I'm trying to see this
in a positive light: Veronica, Jake and Bella are great, so I'll be fine. Besides, I expect we'll write lots of e-mails to each other. I like, very much, the idea of correspondence with my parents. I can tell them things I might not otherwise. It will take my relationship with Mum and Dad to a different, better level.

The final lines of this diary . . .

I will miss you, sweet diary.

I am going on to Year 11 now, a whole new domain. The most important year of my academic life so far.

I am afraid.

(Note: Band 6 is the highest you can get in the school certificate.)

The Life you have just read is merely a
piece
of a larger work in progress. Each day, each hour, each
moment
something new occurs in life . . .

I am now in Year 11. How to capture my first term, and beyond?

Well, I am not the sort of girl to give up.

I have decided to
continue
this Life in private.

Hence, I have started a fresh document on my laptop and

have scanned in various notes, papers, and correspondence from
this
year—as with this Life, I have tried to be as honest as possible, including things which do not show me in my best light. I have begun with the Name Game we played at the very first session of FAD, scanned in my philosophical musings and memos, and copied in Night Time Musings (which I always type up on my laptop).

I will continue to add to this document, scanning in items as I write them. I will even include this
very
project!

And then I will begin a new ‘Part'.

And with a new Part, I will begin a new term,
a new life:
I will begin a new Bindy Mackenzie.

Here are some Lines from a Book which Caught Bindy's Eye Today
. . .

‘[A new school term] is the time when resentments are laid aside, friendships are renewed, and the pages of life are freshened . . .'
(Note: The book actually refers to a new
year,
but I think the author would have said the same thing about a new school term.)

From:
Our Deportment, or the Manner, Conduct and Dress of the Most Refined Society
by John H. Young (1881), p 165.

A Memo from Bindy Mackenzie

Dear Try,
I hereby attach, with trembling stapler, a print-out of my
FAD assignment. It is entitled, ‘Bindy Mackenzie: A Life'.

I also ‘attach', with trembling heart, my gratitude. By asking me to prepare this Life, I believe you may have saved my life. Nay, not merely saved it, but
formed it afresh!

You see, before I put this Life together, I was in a desperate state. I thought I had always been generous with my classmates, yet the Name Game we did at the first FAD class revealed that I had
failed
to win their hearts. So I chose to be ruthless instead, and I
completely
lost their respect. (You've probably noticed that.) All this has caused me such despair that I think it has made me ill.

But preparing this Life over the last few days has revealed a truth to me. My generosity of the past few years has been tinged with darkness! I see that now. Although I tried to
help,
I thought that my classmates were ‘teen monsters': people with drug and alcohol addictions, people who infringe copyright, people who need to be
fixed
. . . No wonder my classmates have not liked me! And no wonder I exploded into
ruthlessness
this year. I thought I was surrounded by monsters, and was fed up with trying to help them. I wanted them to see what they were!

And yet, I also see that in my distant past, I had
loved
my classmates. I thought that they were
beautiful.
It seems to me, when I study this Life, that
Year 9
marks a turning point. (Perhaps some cataclysmic event took place in Year 8?)

I intend to create a brand new Bindy this term. I will draw on my childlike self. I will
love
my classmates again. I will focus on the positive features of fellow human beings, and most especially my FAD group. I'll point these positive features out to them. I'll help them to reach their potential!

Will I have
poison running through my veins?!.
Nay! I'll have
affection
spilling from my every pore.

And I'll spill every drop that I can on the members of my FAD group.

With much gratitude,
Bindy Mackenzie

PS Can you please thank the FAD member who gave me the glittering nail polish? I wear it every day now, and am trying harder than ever to stop chewing my nails! I've also been trying hard to figure out who it is from, but I simply cannot.

PPS Here, along with my Life, is a small gift for you—I have got one of your cartoons framed.

PPPS I'm nervous about returning to FAD, but I see that it is vital. I must win their forgiveness and their hearts. It is only in such a way that I will find myself again. Only this, I think, will cure me of my despair (and the associated physical symptoms).

The Philosophical Musings of Bindy Mackenzie
Monday, 5.49 am (in my bedroom)
If the slow but steady melting of the polar icecaps can cause such meteorological events as the weakening of the Gulf Stream and consequent dismantling of various ecosystems, can it really be surprising that the sudden thaw in a girl's icy state should be followed by a headache?

TO:
[email protected]
FROM:
[email protected]
SENT: Monday, 6.00 am
SUBJECT: Decisions . . .

Dear Dad,
Hi there! It's the first day of school after the holidays, and I've decided to catch up on correspondence before the term gets under way!

How are you? Anthony and I were sorry to miss you when we visited during the holidays—I know you've been interstate a lot, so I understand. Anyway, as Mum said, the apartment is not really big enough for two people, let alone four, so it was probably best. (We ordered Hawaiian pizza the first night, so I bet you're secretly glad you weren't around!)

My holiday was busy—I spent a lot of time on a school assignment for FAD. I also spent several evenings helping one of my baby sitting clients. She runs a secondhand bookstore and we reorganised the store together. Actually, she was so impressed that she offered me a full-time job, Saturdays and Thursdays.

Can I have your advice? Do you think I should quit Kmart to take up Maureen's offer? It's less money, but more fun, and I do have another regular job to supplement my income. (I sit with a woman named Eleanora while she makes pasta on Sunday and Wednesday nights—I think she does this for a local Italian restaurant.)

Anotherthing: If I take the job, I might surprise Maureen by secretly renovating the back rooms of the store—a disastrous storeroom and bathroom—so any advice on renovation would be appreciated. I know that's your field of expertise.

Best,
Bindy

My Buddy Diary

By Bindy Mackenzie

Monday, 6.15 am

A long time ago, my buddy set me the challenge of attending kickboxing classes. I am sorry to confess that I did not meet this challenge last term. (I was a different person then.) (And the classes were on at the same time as my piano lessons.)

However, yesterday, I discovered a new Sunday class, at 2.00 pm, and so I took it. I found the other students to be vastly more co-ordinated than I am. I could not kick and punch at the same time. (Interestingly, as a child, I was never able to rub my tummy and pat my head at the same time.) And I felt too embarrassed to shout ‘Ha!' each time I kicked.

Accordingly, I do not think that

 

is my thing.
As I mentioned before, I might try a hip-hop class instead. I hope that my buddy will understand.

Bindy Mackenzie
24 Clipping Drive, Kellyville, NSW 2155

Mr George Sutcliffe
Student Liaison Officer
Office of the Board of Studies

Dear Mr Sutcliffe,

Thank you for your letters, in which you ‘respond' to my complaints about a course at my school called FAD.

I am writing now to withdraw those complaints. I suspect that you did not fully understand them, and I know you have already spoken to my Year Co-ordinator. However, I am concerned that
someone else
in your department might read die file, and take action.

I hereby confess that I was mistaken.

FAD is a revelation, and my FAD teacher, Try Montaine, is a genius.

Accordingly, please destroy my file, along with this letter.

With muted appreciation,

I remain,
Bindy Mackenzie

A Memo from Bindy Mackenzie

 

Dear Ms Walcynski,
I am writing to request an extension for my Case Study,
Compare and Contrast the Lives of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X.
I have examined die recommended reading, read several additional articles, watched Spike Lee's film, and written a draft of the assignment, but I believe I need more time to polish it.

I am truly sorry to be making this request. As you no doubt know, I have never in my life asked for an extension, or handed in a late assignment, in this or any other subject.

I believe the circumstances are exceptional: I had a FAD assignment to complete over the holidays and it took up most of my time.

Thank you so much for your patience.

Kind regards,
Bindy Mackenzie