Hey Big Spender. The Golden Queen Chapter 8
Where scars and secrets are starting to be exposed.
Where scars and secrets are starting to be exposed.
After my late breakfast, I stepped out of my hut, and a very eager Marcus greeted me, whilst standing on my neighbour's grey-planked veranda. “Taj and Jase had to go out an’ help catch a school of salmon. Jase said to show you the schoolroom. If ya ready …that is.”
“Oh, okay, yes, that’s right. Thanks, Marcus, I’d appreciate that.”
Not sure if I should have been disappointed or relieved that Sir Delusion was indisposed. Happily, I smiled back at the younger brother! At least, I knew for the next couple of hours, I would be behaving in a mature and sensible manner and not at risk of being socially traumatised by my growing band of imaginary personality traits!
I wonder if there’s medication for this sort of thing?
“Lead on, young man!” was my enthusiastic reply.
As we paired up in synchronised steps along Park Road, Marcus beamed, “This way, Miss, to the fountain of all knowledge!”
It was a bit disconcerting that we were the same height. “It’s okay, Marcus, just call me Cassie!”
His grin increased to phenomenal size. “Cool! Nana made me call her Mrs Hope at school!”
The fountain was a pretty old, simple grey fibre cement building with big double windows, all from the 1960s era. My new place of employment sat happily just a smidge off the main road behind the park. Surrounded by grass and not much else! It had no playground, no play equipment… no nothing! Apparently, the kids went to the park or beach for recess and went home for lunch. The actual school ‘house’ was just one big room that contained toys and messy desks, with a number of coffee cups strewn over them.
That was going to be my first job. Get the department to send down a whole lot of sand toys, nature play boxes, sports, and art equipment, along with setting up a garden. We had quite a large slush fund, and I was now determined to spend it all by the end of the year!
The school simply consisted of a toilet block (by this, I mean a small red brick building with two doors on it). One with a magnificent golden tailed Mermaid and the other with Poseidon painted on the wooden doors.
Well, I think it was Poseidon… Hard to tell, really, because the Mermaid was the one with the trident.
“Equal rights, good to see!”
The school educated K to Year 12. Online distance Ed, for the kids from Y7 up. The students could have gone to Pemberton, but by bus, it was well over an hour’s drive one way. Apparently, according to my department notes, the community was very ‘insular’ and held almost fanatical beliefs about the children remaining in the community. So, better to study online and stay at home.
The seven computers and headsets were all new and clean. I knew this simply because they were still in their boxes! Marcus was looking forward to using them as the old ones kept dropping out of the satellite connection, or the wires on the headphones would short out.
Another big box contained 15 iPads, an Air Mac for me and a very large still-in-the-box interactive whiteboard and stand. Apparently, the WIFI connections would be updated two weeks before school started.
“Oh No!” A realisation swept through my body in a heated rush.
I had been totally naïve.
Not a second thought had been given as to why so much money was in the budget. But now, all this new equipment and money pressed the big red button on my suspicion meter. Teachers talk!
Word gets around fast when.
a) there’s a kamikaze Principal – often referred to as ‘A Crazy Red’ - Not their political leanings, but more their eye colour up close when screaming into your face.
b) the school is run down – because of ‘A Crazy Red’.
c) there’s a particularly strong squad of car park mafia parents.
d) the wrong kind of puppet teachers are forming an influential and damaging purple circle, often encouraged by ‘A Crazy Red’
e) and let me assure you, …word travels like grease lighting if there’s a kid from hell at a school.
It was a worry that I was now the single teacher at a school that had gone through three teachers in barely a term. With the last one having been badly hurt in a car accident so recently, the car hadn’t been removed from the side of the road. And let’s not mention all the weird make-believe stuff to explain what happened to him.
What or who had made these teachers leave… or run away with their tails behind them?
The department was making every effort to make this school as sweet a deal as they could. They wanted to entice me in and keep me here. That's what worried me! What’s so bad about this place?
“You know what?”
“What Marcus.” I was distracted by calculating how much the technology would have cost.
“We’re really lucky getting all this stuff; Northcliffe has got bugger all!” He pulled the broom out of its hiding corner and began to sweep the detritus off the floor.
“Mmmm. Very lucky!”
The Northcliffe Primary staff were close enough to know, within a few days of school starting, just how big the disparity would be! ‘…Great. Just great!’
“Well,” I sighed with reluctant acceptance, “we might as well get our hands dirty!”
“Ewwwww! Bag’s me not touching the coffee cups.” Marcus wrinkled his nose as he investigated the biological depths of a mug.
We cleaned out the class, then storage rooms and finally …I alone cleaned the toilets with Marcus outside, giving words of encouragement. Jim, the hairy caterpillar eyebrow caretaker, gave me dirty looks every time Marcus and I turned up with another bin loaded with crud; tough for him!
The young teen kept on shaking his head and telling me time and time again, “Glad we did all this, Nan would have had a pink fit if she saw the state of her class!”
I nodded in agreement; it would be soul-destroying to see a lifetime of hard work devalued. This was not how you treat a community, their school, your or anybody else class.
Finally, we started on the not-so-mammoth task of setting up desks, opening boxes and setting up computers. As we did so, Marcus continued to comment in a distracted tone.
“Can’t blame poor Toby for the state of Nan’s class. He was only here for a week, and we spent most of that going to Northcliffe practising for the Christmas Assembly.”
My ears pricked up, “Toby? Who’s he?”
The young teenager’s demeanour changed; a cautious wave washed through his very being. “…He was our last teacher. The one before you.”
Keeping the tone light and set with the desire to find out more, a disinterested tone rang through the next question, “What happened to him?”
Marcus stopped pulling at a stiff box and stood still, his back to me and head slightly tilted towards me. “Don’t know, really. He had an accident on the road. He was just lucky that Taj… drove by and was there to… call for help and do first aid.”
“Wow! He sounds very lucky!”
Realisation sat on my desk swinging her legs, steaming coffee cup in hand. ‘Sounds to me like ol’ Taj finds himself on the same path as all the new teachers!’
Marcus turned a worried face towards me, so I smiled nonchalantly and commented, “Let’s move the room around a bit so we can get the computers out and on desks!” The sense of relief which emanated from him washed through the class like a changing tide.
With the enthusiastic teenagers' help, after the computers we set up a Kindy and Pre-primary area to have free outside play under shade. Nicely situated just outside the back door but in direct line of sight of the whiteboard.
The juniors had their group by the door with easy access to the Kindy and Pre’s equipment. The middle years had their desks closer to the computers and library area, with the teenagers sitting nearest to the tech.
Twenty-four kids, nine grades. Easy! That’s what I kept telling myself. Easy!
Teacher, stepped inside with a notepad and fancy bobbling pen, all at the ready to begin making lists. She looked so professional with her hair in a bun, white business shirt, black skirt and high heels. I was impressed.
I just want to mention at this point, though, this is not what I wear! Ever sat down to read a story to a bunch of kids sitting in front of you on the floor? Ever done it whilst wearing a short business skirt?
No! Not me!
As Teacher walked around the room assessing the job we’d done, my mind began to race with excitement. I’ve got three weeks to go before school. I can borrow books from North Cliff Primary, and I’m sure there’s a photocopier I could use up there. I think I’ll be demanding a photocopier of my own… would a genny run one? Bloody Hell – I’m going to be busy creating a new integrated program… I wonder who my teacher’s assistant will be?
Yes, it sounds boring to you, I know! But trust me, there will be teachers out there right now excitedly thinking, ‘Ooooh… you could try using the iPads to video plants on the beach. Then, the kids could do a presentation on the marine environment of Windy Harbour. The younger ones can work on tally marks and data formats, the older ones on species recognition, oh and the high school can…’
Yep, Teachers …were a ‘party hard’ kinda people!
Just after 11:45, Marcus and I had finished most of the moving and cleaning. Viewing all we had accomplished with pride and creating a mental list of the things I would have to do next, shock seized my eyes as my young helper bent over a table to check out the back of one of the computers. An angry red scar on the back of his neck the size of a cricket ball slid out from under his t-shirt.
“Sweet Mother Magee Marcus! What did you do to your neck?”
Wide, fear-filled eyes greeted me as he swivelled around and abruptly stood as straight as a dye. The scar disappeared under a frantic, quickly flattened hand.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry!” My heart beat a rapid tattoo of regret as I watched his cheeks flush.
He looked down at his feet as a wave of sadness swept over his features. Letting his hand slowly slide off the scar, it slipped back under his t-shirt. “You’re not; it’s just…” he shrugged his shoulders.
“He doesn’t like to talk about it! Gives him wicked nightmares.” Rolled a deep masculine voice behind me.
Turning quickly to see standing at the door a bulky, older man with weightlifter muscles, I couldn’t help but gasp and take a step back. He looked angry! Quickly gathering my poop back in a pile, I faked calm, and with false authority, I stated. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend anyone. …Who are you?”
The man was gripping and grasping his fists whilst looking at Marcus with ferocity written all over his face.
Internal protective tiger growled as I manoeuvred myself in front of the quiet teenager. “I’m his teacher.”
With stunning velocity, the man’s tone changed a complete 180. “No, no!” Holding his hands up in a consolatory manner. “Sorry Miss, sorry I was thinking of something else, totally not directed at you… my apologies. Good to meet you. New Teacher, eh!” He stepped a couple of enormous strides forward and wrapped my hand in rough-hewn fingers, then shook it gently.
“I’m Pauley. Marcus is my nephew.” His hand continued to shake mine. “Poor kid’s been through hell and back. We’re lucky to still have him!”
Thankfully, he let me go as my shoulder was starting to complain at the vigorous movement.
“It was my own fault! I shouldn’t have gone by myself.” Marcus sounded sad, like a lost little boy.
Pauley dropped my hand and walked to his nephew, placing his giant, meaty palm on the teenager’s shoulder. “Marcus, you’re allowed to go anywhere you like. You have that right! Don’t you forget it! You did noth’n wrong. Just… don’t let Taj hear you put yourself down, or he’ll give you a lecture that’ll go on for hours! Then we’ll all be dragged into it. An’ he’ll go on and worry and stress and… then Helen will worry and stress… and then you and I won’t be going fishing this weekend!”
Marcus smiled. I recognised it instantaneously. I had given so many of those types of smiles in the last couple of months. With that hurt-hiding smile, he continued, “We are DEFINITELY going fishing on the weekend!”
His Uncle wasn’t fooled, and as his cobalt blue eyes twinkled in the Fluro light, Pauley continued lightly. “Sorry, Miss. We nearly lost young gannet here when he was attacked by a shark! Makes me so angry that the… sea isn’t as safe… as it used to be!”
With skin so tanned, he looked like a walnut with blond hair cut into a military short back and sides. Pauley, in many ways, reminded me of a middle-aged blond version of Arnold Schwarzenegger! All that was missing was the Austrian accent.
I nodded, thinking, okay… weird much?
“Geeze, you’ve done a great job on Mum’s class; she’ll be pleased to know it’s gleaming!” He looked around the room, smiling at our hard work.
“Would you like to come and have some lunch? The Misses has cooked up big for young guts on legs here. But I’m sure he’ll leave you a crumb or two!” The blue cobalt eyes were definitely familiar…
Realising that I was actually very hungry, an enthusiastic, “Oh, thank you! That’s very kind” was quickly given.
Teacher spoke absent-mindedly as she scribbled down on her notepad. ‘Everyone… and I mean EVERYONE… still refers to this as Mrs Hope’s classroom!’
Behind a big smile, the thought, ‘Irky, irky start’n to make me feel berserky! …it’s MY bloody classroom!’ flourished from the depths of my teaching soul.
We walked over to the edge of the camping ground to Pauley’s revamped hut, which had a lovely, varnished Jarrah veranda out the back. There was just enough room for the four of us to sit comfortably around the table and enjoy lovely cold meat, fresh bread, and fruit without banging elbows.
Over lunch, it became evident Pauley was just a big teddy bear! His wife Helen was a lovely blond grey-haired lady with kind blue eyes fixed above a permanent smile. It was very obvious that in her youth, she had been extremely beautiful. A real siren, you might say! Her youthful bloom had turned into middle-aged handsomeness, kindness, and self-assured calmness. I liked her immediately! She caressed Marcus’s head and kissed his messy hair as she walked by.
“Don’t you own a brush?”
“Na!”, was muffled past a mouth full of chicken sandwich.
“Cheeky Monkey, I’ll use the dog’s one on ya if you’re not careful!”
Helen then attempted to flatten some of the sticky-out bits with her fingers.
I didn’t know where his parents were, but it looked like Marcus’s Aunt had stepped into the role of surrogate mother. This made me feel a lot better.
In truth, I was now hooked on catching a glimpse of Marcus’s scars. I had spied his original welt on the right-hand side at the base of his neck, right over his jugular. To my surprise, it had another matching one on the left side. As he reached for salads or meats, only some of it poked out from under his t-shirt’s collar.
Whatever had done that? The scars reminded me of an enormous ringworm bight. Especially the one on his right-hand side, it looked massive. I was staggered at the fact his head was still attached!
Realisation stood leaning against the veranda pole, looking at our meal.
“Doesn’t look like a shark’s bight to me though. Maybe a giant round-mouthed leach… but not a shark!”
She walked up behind him and had a good, close look.
“Whatever caused the scars, it must have been a very close call!”
Thank you for reading - please find below a link to Chapters 1 and 2
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CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2