Chapter 16

Teenage boys are just as big gossips as teenage girls. Andrew discovered this when he returned to school the following morning, he couldn’t believe all the wild rumours going around. He was standing in the corridor outside Hall’s classroom with four or five different questions being thrown at him from all directions. Mrs. Hall arrived and saved him from the worst of it but on the walk over to assembly they all picked up again. The guys on either side of him asked.

“Is it true what you said to Caldwell? I mean for fighting?”

Andrew nodded.

“But you are here today. So your suspension was like, half a day?”

This was the bit that was confusing them.

“I got into a fight with one of the guy’s in the orchestra, Murray Jones. I kneed him in the balls. Nothing happened then because it was after school on Friday. First time they could do anything was yesterday. You saw me get hauled off to the head’s office. Jones got three days’ suspension and I got one day.”

Now that they had the gist of the story they pondered it for a few minutes. Then the difference in punishment was noticed.

“Why did Jonesy get three days and you only got one?”

This from Pete Thompson walking on Andrew’s right. Andrew looked over at him.

“Don’t know. It is what Daniels and Hall told me.”

Another can of worms for breakfast anyone. Happy to open a new one. Andrew chastised himself, idiot.

“You got called to the Head’s office but Daniels gave you the punishment with Hall?”

“Yeap.”

It was time for the one word answers. That was the pattern for the next couple of days. Gradually the interest died down but the fact that a second year had kneed a fourth year in the balls and ‘got away with it’ was too juicy to not be talked about. Andrew was concerned as to what would happen on Thursday. He knew that Jones wouldn’t let this lie. In some ways Jones couldn’t; beaten up and yet he gets the longer suspension. Andrew knew there would be a confrontation. Heriot’s is an old school, you can see the original building standing grandly in its own grounds from the road. Classes are in several different buildings and at the end of every period there are always loads of students walking between the different departments. So everyone see lots of different years and classes, although there is very little interaction between them normally. They only had five minutes to get between buildings. Suddenly Andrew was hit on the back of the head.

“This isn’t over. The shit I am getting about you!”

Jones was gone before Andrew realised he was even there. Not unexpected, but just one more thing to deal with. He spent the rest of the day thinking about Murray Jones and what he represented. The previous year, Jones was everything that was bad about senior school. A stupid, middle class, low key harasser. The kind of guy who makes school slightly shitter by being there. Adds nothing; not evil, just stupid and ignorant. This year Andrew had taken a different tack and this was the result. He knew he had ‘gotten away’ with one fight because of what was said. The next time the school would not be so lenient. And Murray Jones outweighed him by 40lbs and would beat Andrew to a bloody pulp in a ‘fair’ fight.

Andrew was sitting thinking about Jones while he was coding after school. So much had changed that term at school. Nearly all for the better. He was swimming in the mornings. He was completely on top of all his school work and was getting some computer time. All good, he felt calmer. What Andrew couldn’t tell was if he was more mature, something for others to assess he supposed. At school he was taking control of his life. He stopped and laughed at himself. He was at high school and he had control over his life! The parts where he could exercise some control. Maybe. Andrew had two extra-curricular activities, was studying hard in the library at lunchtime and after school. Was not putting up with shit from other people part of that? Andrew had acted instinctively and now he had to deal with the consequences. What he needed was to exercise some control. How?

Friday morning on his walk it came to him. Orchestra was optional. He didn’t have to deal with Murray Jones if he didn’t want to, he could walk away. Was this letting him ‘win’? It would be perceived as that but Andrew didn’t care about that. The only thing that was giving him pause was the sense that he was not challenging himself, standing up for himself, but rather just walking away as usual. That’s when it came to him. Him or Jones. Control. That Friday instead of going to orchestra rehearsal Andrew went to the City Library after school. It was only a five minute walk. Nikki was working the front desk and he stopped to say hi. This was the first time she had seen him in his school uniform. Andrew hadn’t realised in all the times that they had talked both there and at the Food Bank she didn’t know he went to Heriot’s.

“Andrew, oh you are a pupil at Heriot’s. I didn’t know.”

She looked startled.

“I am surprised it never came up in conversation. Are you okay? You look, I don’t know, confused.”

Nikki was still looking at him oddly. She pulled herself together.

“I am fine Andrew. You get used to someone looking one way and then they turn up suddenly dressed differently. It threw me for a second that is all.”

“See you on Sunday then. Bye Nikki.”

He headed off to the computing section as normal. After doing some reading at the library Andrew headed home. As he sat on the bus as it drove past the school there were still pupils leaving even though it was a couple of hours after the end of classes. A large number of extra-curricular activities happened on a Friday after school. One of the groups leaving were the guys in the Combined Cadet Force (CCF). The best way to describe the CCF is a combination of University Officer Training Corp for high school; a Forces version of the Scouts; and early recruitment for the regular or reserve forces. It does not lend itself to an easy explanation because it was many things to many people. There were guys in it who were going to be regular soldiers, guys who wanted to be officers and a bunch of guys who did it to get a chance to fly or sail or drive things but who had no intention of joining the forces. It was a group that transcended years and academic classes. It also ran on a Friday afternoon after school, the same as Orchestra.

On Saturday Andrew ended up spending a couple of hours with Tony at the camera shop. Tony was in the darkroom but he had the door open and they were chatting away. A student had replaced Andrew when he got sick and he was dealing with the customers. Then Andrew heard a familiar voice.

“Oh, you’re back.”

What he hadn’t expected was to be smothered by Monica and her bosom. She had pulled him into a big hug, which he was not expecting, and as a result had stumbled and landed face first in her cleavage. But she didn’t immediately push him away. If anything she squeezed tighter. Finally Andrew was released and he could breathe again.

“I can tell you are well again. That’s a bit frisky for a Saturday lunchtime.”

Monica was laughing, Aiden the student was laughing, Tony was laughing. Andrew of course was scarlet with embarrassment. He tried to stammer an apology. Monica waved it away.

“I was really pleased when Tony told us that you had been cured.”

It was not the moment to get into the semantics of cured versus in remission.

“Are you back working?”

Andrew explained about the doctor’s concerns with all the chemicals.

“No more darkroom for the kid, Monica. He is going to join the club in two years. You won’t be able to tease him after that.”

Rather than look surprised or embarrassed Monica laughed.

“You better hope I don’t win the Pools, and that I am still taking my clothes off for you grubby old men.”

She looked at Andrew and laughed.

“Well grubby young men too.”

She considered this for a further second.

“Now that I think about it all men at grubby, whatever age they are.”

Tony was just laughing away but Andrew couldn’t have been any more scarlet than if Monica was giving him a bed bath.

“You can work on stopping blushing for the next two years. You will need a steady hand, no point in taking blurry shots.”

What was amazing was her lack of concern about the whole thing. Andrew was still two months shy of being 14 and yet this woman in her early 20s was happily chatting about stripping so that he could take photographs of her naked. And the discussion of the Friday night club had always been very matter of fact. Sure the guys were all sensible and discrete about getting the prints developed but it was not a huge secret. And if it was they were doing a lousy job of keeping it secret. But it was remarkably drama free, snigger free. A bunch of guys paid her to take her clothes off and photographed her. Andrew was amazed at her lack of. He stopped. What? Shame? Concern? Andrew thought about some of the comments at school. 13 and 14 year old boys going through puberty were the epitome of teenage idiots. The chat at school was full of stupidity, the physically impossible, and braggadocio of the most pathetic kind. Yet Andrew was standing laughing with a model about photographing her naked in a couple of years. Monica yanked him back to reality.

“Well he can wait a couple of years. I’ll make it worth his while.”

She kissed his cheek leaving a lipstick smudge of it before departing with a wave. Tony stood beside him as he worked to remove the evidence. His mother would need to be hospitalised if he returned home with scarlet lipstick on his cheek.

“You getting sick really affected her. She only ever muttered one comment that I heard, almost under her breath, ‘not again’. I am guessing a family member or a friend. Anyway, she was bloody over the moon in February when I told her you had popped in. Only two more years of teasing.”

“I was thinking about the guys in my year. You must remember what it was like, teenage boys. The bullshit is knee deep. You would have half the school here if they knew about her.”

Tony patted Andrew on the shoulder.

“Monica can be a right bitch, she has a hard edge to her. The person she is when she is here is different to how she is a lot of the time. I have seen her just emasculate guys who annoy her, so half the school might turn up but they would all limp home.”

Andrew wasn’t sure what emasculate meant but he got the idea. It was as if he was seeing a nice side of Monica. He almost laughed out loud at the double meaning of that phrase.

“Do you mind me coming here for a couple of hours on a Saturday?”

“Nah kid. It is good to chat about music with you. That one.” He pointed over at Aiden. “It is all The Clash and The Stranglers. You are welcome to come over. You know me, if I am busy I will tell you to sling your hook.”

Sunday at the Food Bank warehouse was funny but at the same time it made Andrew think. He and Nikki were working together as normal. They got on well and although there wasn’t a ton of time to chat, when they were able, the conversation flowed easily.

“Andrew, I am sorry about Friday.”

Nikki quietly spoke to him as they grabbed a quick water break.

“What do you mean Nikki? What about Friday.”

Andrew looked perplexed.

“I never realised that you went to Heriot’s. I didn’t know where you went to school but it surprised me. Normally people who attend private schools do not work in the Food Bank warehouse.”

“Is it a problem Nikki? I enjoy working here. I feel like I doing some good, I enjoy working with the people here, I enjoy working with you Nikki. I wouldn’t be doing this without your help.”

He sounded defensive.

“It is not a problem Andrew. Like I said you surprised me in your uniform. You have worked here steadily for more than a month now and are part of the Sunday team. I am glad you asked me that day about opportunities as the Food Bank has a good hard worker.”

Andrew felt that there was more to this but accepted her explanation and went back to work. He talked to Leslie about control when she collected him after finishing there. She listened while he explained his thinking.

“Control is a good way of looking at it. For six months you had no control. Over anything. Your disease, your treatment, even your body. Remember the bed baths?”

They both laughed although Andrew blushed at the memory.

“You have thought this through. You have taken the first step by walking away from a source of conflict, the orchestra. I completely understand the concern about him winning. What do you want to achieve?”

As she drove Andrew talked about connections, aggravations, and all the pettiness of school that the last two weeks had reinforced or reminded him.

“I don’t want to deal with bullshit Leslie. I know there will be some but I have a plan and some goals and negative things just annoy me. The things I like and feel I am in control of are all about me. My studying, my exercise, my swimming, my computing. Me, me, me. The things where I get annoyed are the ones with other people or where I rely on other people. Orchestra is just the most obvious one at present. I don’t like a lot of the people in it. I was thinking about who was around last week and there are a bunch of guys that I would prefer not to deal with. I think this is about their perception of the old Andrew. Last year’s guy not me now.

“I think I need to break out of the mould and do something new and different. I am not sure what that is but something has to change. I am too different from the person I was a year ago. Jones smacked me on the head on Thursday when he got back to school. That is going to be an ongoing issue. I didn’t turn up to orchestra on Friday and Ford is going to be asking me why next week at music. Some parts of the new me seem to be going smoothly and others, well not so much.”

A wry smile crossed his face.

“You are growing up fast Andrew. You have identified your main issue I think. People still seeing you as the person you were rather than the person you are.”

Further discussion was postponed as they arrived at the Campbells. The evenings there had started to follow a pattern. Leslie had decided that they needed to talk about Faith every week. There were reminiscences, mentioning a current situation where she had thought of her, little things to keep the positive memory of her sister alive. Andrew had started to add to her stories. HIs were nearly always about something in his life where he could hear Faith or Leslie telling him to be confident, telling him he could do it. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were uncomfortable with this at first but they too were starting to talk about Faith. Remembering the good, not letting the bad consume them. Many weeks later Leslie mentioned that it was a family exercise that Helen Graham, their grief counsellor, had asked her to do. Leslie said that it was easier to do it with Andrew there than when it was just the three of them. That changed over the months and she said that both her parents made reference to Faith regularly in a positive way. Faith was not someone who was never going to be talked about. Leslie was determined to make sure that the memories of Faith were kept in the open.

One thing Leslie was spot on about was that Andrew was now Mr. Campbell’s computer guy. After dinner Brian asked Andrew to come through to his office and showed him his latest purchase. He had bought another external disk drive. He already had one and he now wanted to add a second beside it. Andrew was now playing with hardware rather than software. This was his first baby step in dealing with all of the intricacies of early computers. There was a manual with the drive and so they sat and read through it after unpacking the drive unit. Early component installation was a bear. The manuals were badly written and were often unclear. However much Mr. Campbell and Andrew followed the instructions they could not get the disk drive to install properly.

“I will go to the library after school tomorrow. I will see if there is an article in one of the computing magazines that will show us what we are going wrong. I don’t think there is anything else we can do today.”

Mr. Campbell look sad but agreed.

“If you can find something that would be great. I am trying to do something in VisiCalc and I need the space on the extra disk drive.”

Andrew promised to see what he could do and then went and found Leslie. She gave him another tape.

“This is different than the last one but let me know what you think.”

It was Cheap Trick’s Live at the Budokan. Andrew had barely heard of Cheap Trick and did not think he had heard a song by them. He promised her he would listen to it and let her know. Andrew in turn left a couple of tapes of early Pink Floyd. He liked their music and was now actively looking for any Iron Butterfly, although that was so far proving to be elusive. Their musical education was continuing.

Things with the orchestra and Murray Jones came to a head that following week. Andrew had been elbowed by him on Monday but was at a loss as to what to do. Was he prepared to deal with this shit at orchestra every week? So he made the ultimatum. Now in his defense he had received shit treatment from a couple of teachers since his return. Caldwell had been a dick to Andrew in English when he was suspended and his relationship with him permanently soured from that point onwards. Andrew had enjoyed music up to this point and Mr. Ford was cool, normally. That Tuesday afternoon, however, he was not. He decided to embarrass Andrew in front of the class just like Caldwell had done.

“Where were you on Friday McLeod? Why were you not at orchestra?”

“I will talk to you about it at the end of class Mr. Ford if that is okay.”

He went for the polite private reply.

“I asked you why you were not at orchestra. Surely that is not a secret?”

“I would prefer to talk to you about this privately sir.”

“Now McLeod. I want to know why you were not at orchestra practice.”

It was the smirk that did it.

“I don’t want to talk about my ongoing treatment in front of the class. Mr. Ford.”

Even though it was a lie, Andrew’s jaw was clenched. And the smirk was gone from Ford’s pale face.

“Of course.”

The class was murmuring and one or two brave souls were chuckling. Andrew waited behind after the class, the last of the day.

“You need to let me know in advance if you are not attending orchestra.”

Ford was sounding petulant and had offered no apology for trying to embarrass Andrew in the class.

“The real reason I was not there is as long as Murray Jones is in the orchestra I am not playing.”

“What? What did you say?”

Ford’s face had started to redden alarmingly.

“I will not be a member of the school orchestra while Murray Jones is also a member.”

“How dare you make these demands?”

Andrew chose silence as his best option. Ford went for the opposite approach, with Andrew having to listen to another faux outrage harangue similar to that from the headmaster the previous week. Maybe Ford was trying to copy him. Who did he think he was making demands of a teacher? You get the idea. Andrew had challenged authority and needed to be slapped down hard. As with the previous week in the head’s office eventually he ran out of steam.

“I will not be told what to do by a pupil. Do I make myself clear?”

Andrew nodded but said nothing

“I will not be forcing Murray Jones out of the orchestra after a threat from another student.”

Andrew stood and waited.

“Well say something. Are you going to apologise?”

Apologise. Really. Had school been this bad before but he had been oblivious to it?

“I do not think the situation needs an apology.”

Andrew still stood waiting to be dismissed.

“Get out.”

His parents fell off the deep end when he told them. His father, as a teacher, did not like Andrew challenging authority in that way, even although he grudgingly acknowledged that Ford brought a lot of it on himself. His mother, of course, was concerned about the social implications of such disobedience. Andrew seemed to be doing a lot of waiting for adults to finish pontificating before finally getting to an actual two-way conversation.

“What do you want me to do? I am getting hit by Jones every day. Nothing serious but a smack on the head here, an elbow in the gut there. Do you want me to put up with that bullying at orchestra as well? He said something I will not forgive. Do you know how many children I saw die in addition to Faith? At least seventeen. Do you remember how you felt in December and January? Do you remember the Campbell’s faces at Faith’s funeral? Well I saw that many times at the Sick Kids. Mercifully it was fewer than it could have been but I have seen those parents’ faces. It was Faith’s parent’s faces. It could have been your faces. So I don’t care about disrespecting authority Dad, especially when he brought it on himself and I really don’t care what people will think. Any time anyone wants to give me crap about it I will tell them what I saw that Saturday morning in the hospice!”

Andrew walked out of the room. He had put into words all the thoughts swirling in his head. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He had done the right thing, he was doing the right thing. Andrew lay on his bed listening to Cheap Trick – a great album by the way – and thinking about the future. He was done with Ford and the orchestra. Ford had made his choice already and so had Andrew. He needed to consider if he was going to keep playing the double bass? It would have to be out with school now. What was he going to do instead? He was lying thinking about all this and didn’t even hear his parents come into his room. His mother spoke first.