My first exam was on the same day as Max’s birthday. When I got home from work in the morning Mum didn’t say anything about the exams. She started right in on the Max thing. Did I think she should phone him? Would Hayden do something special for him? She yelled for Theo, then said, ‘I only hope he’s going to a good school. It’s so important for him to get his education.’
Yeah.
She forgot to wish me luck.
I did the morning chores, dropped Davey at school and went to sit my English exam. I had a reader–writer and I had to go to the small office in the admin block. How to feel special in one easy lesson.
That exam was a struggle. But I thought I did better than the last time because I wasn’t scared to ask Mr Webb, my reader–writer, to read things several times until I understood.
Science was in the afternoon. Mr Webb pretended to roll up his sleeves. ‘Okay, Ruby — here we go again. Let’s blast off.’
When we finished, he took my papers and grinned at me. ‘You got about sixty per cent of that correct. Well done, Ruby.’
My mouth was still hanging open when he left.
We had maths the next day, and social studies in the afternoon. According to Mr Webb, I got about seventy per cent right for maths, but he said he hadn’t a clue about the social studies. I didn’t believe him. He’d been a school principal before he retired. He was clever — and nice.
We had health on Wednesday morning and option exams in the afternoon. I don’t think Mr Webb understood much of the fabric exam. My other option was art, and we didn’t have to do an exam for that.
I did think I’d done better in these exams, but not as well as Mr Webb said. We wouldn’t get the results back until after the holidays.
On the last day of term, our social studies teacher threw a real holiday-wrecker at us. ‘Okay, class. Your homework over the holidays …’ she paused while we groaned, ‘… is to organise your work-shadowing for next term.’ She wrote the date on the board for the day we would have to spend in a workplace. It was supposed to be somewhere we wanted to work when we left school.
I had a policy of never thinking about what I’d do when I left school. The choices weren’t great for a girl who couldn’t read or write. Mum expected me to work as a cleaner or a food worker at the hospital like she did. Calvin said I was so good with children — maybe I could work in early child care. But even if I wanted to, I still wouldn’t be able to do the exams.
We talked about it for the rest of the period. Everybody seemed to know what they wanted to do, although Tom said he wanted to be a professional game-player and the only place he needed to go to find out about that was his own computer. Miss Harris said, ‘Since you know so much about it already, Tom, you are to explore something else, thank you.’
Tia wanted to go to the X-ray department at the hospital. ‘I like bones,’ she said.
Megan wanted to go to a hair salon. ‘I want to train at the best salon I can. Then I’m going to travel the world and work at the same time.’
I thought Carly was having us on: ‘I’m going to a farm. One of the big ones up the Taihape road.’
‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ Tia scoffed. ‘They have to get up early on farms, girl!’
Carly wasn’t known for getting out of bed early.
Wiremu was tossing up between physiotherapy, sports reporting and movie production.
I kept quiet and hoped nobody would ask me what I wanted to do.
On Saturday I talked to Mum about it. She hugged me and said, ‘Ruby, darling, there’s not a lot out there for a girl like you. It’ll be hard, but why don’t you try a clothes shop? You like fashion.’
Yes, I did. But I didn’t want to sell clothes. I could see what would happen: Mrs A comes in. She’s sixty. She tries on a dress that doesn’t do sixty. She loves it. It’s expensive — say five hundred dollars. She smiles at me and says, ‘Isn’t this gorgeous! Now, dear, tell me the truth — does my bum look big in it?’
I would smile and say, ‘Mrs A — it isn’t your bum. It’s your saggy arms, your scrawny neck. Your fat knees. You’re showing way too much skin, Mrs A. Don’t buy it.’
She’d walk out in a snit. The boss would yell at me. Then she’d fire me. And anyway, girls in shops needed to read stuff on the computers. They needed to write down names and addresses.
Calvin said, ‘Ruby — aim for the stars. Don’t settle for the obvious.’ Working with Mum as a cleaner was the obvious. ‘Don’t forget that computers can talk these days.’ He smiled at me and left. He was going to see about a weekend job pumping gas to earn some extra money.
Theo cried and wanted to go too. Mum said it was just till we caught up a bit with the money. Theo still cried.
I cleaned Mr Vine’s floor on Monday morning. In between the sweeping and the mopping, I made one of those important promises. I would go somewhere good for work-shadowing. But where?
Davey and I walked round to Maria’s house. Cat tore out to meet us. ‘Ruby! Mama says we can go on the steam train. But only if you take us. Will you, Ruby? Please!’
She spoke quickly — all in Portuguese. I understood every word. ‘I’d love to go on a steam train. Is it today?’
Maria kissed me on both cheeks. She’d told me it was the Brazilian way. ‘No, not till next week. We booked tickets just in case — but are you sure? It’ll be a long day. The train goes from Napier to Gisborne and back.’
‘I’m sure. It’ll be an adventure.’ I’d never been to Gisborne.
Davey couldn’t speak. He gasped and his eyes shone. ‘Will I be able to drive it?’
It didn’t upset him when we told him he wouldn’t be able to.
The weather was wet for most of the holidays. All the time, the work-shadowing hung over my head. Where could I go? What could I do?
We watched Fifi and made insects from egg cartons. The next week, she made face masks from paper plates. Cat threw hers down when she finished it. ‘It’s stupid. It’s not a proper mask.’
Well, it wasn’t like the ones hanging on the walls of her house, but she’d had fun making it. I had too. I liked making things. Could I do a work placement where I got to make things?
The train ride was on the last day of the holidays. We’d have to be at the station by 7.30. I told Mr Vine I couldn’t work that day. He moaned. ‘Typical bloody kid! Unreliable. Swanning off when it suits you.’
I smiled at him. ‘Feel free to replace me.’
Lucas took the three of us to the station. ‘I wish I could go too.’ He handed me a camera. ‘Can you take lots of photos, Ruby?’ He showed me how to work it. ‘I’d like one of the railway line where it goes across Gisborne airport.’
We boarded the train. Lucas handed me the picnic basket Maria had packed. ‘Have fun!’
Cat loved every second of the trip — for the first half hour. Then she wanted to go home — right now. Davey yelled at her. ‘You’re stupid! Trains are not boring!’
Oh, fantastic. I told them both to be quiet. I said, ‘Cat — find something out the window and tell me the Portuguese word for it.’
She stuck out her lip. ‘No. Want to go home.’
Believe me, chicken — I’d send you home right now. If I could.
An old man, across from us, bowed to me. ‘I, too, am not so fond of long journeys.’ He smiled at me and took no notice of Cat or Davey. ‘I always bring my paper with me. Look.’ He took something out of his bag. It was a square of blue paper.
‘Stupid,’ said Cat.
I spoke to her in Portuguese. ‘Please be quiet, Cat. I want to listen to the man.’
Davey stayed glued to the window, watching the steam fly back.
The old man began folding the paper. He made a box and gave it to me. ‘Would you like to make one? It is too difficult for the little girl.’
Cat snarled, ‘It is not. You’re stupid.’ Luckily, she spoke in Portuguese.
The old man’s eyes twinkled. ‘You speak English very well. Where do you come from?’ He looked at me, not Cat.
I smiled back. ‘I’m a New Zealander. But Cat isn’t. She comes from …’
‘I will say!’ Cat said. She glared at him. ‘I come from Brazil. My name is Catarina.’
He bowed. ‘Greetings, Catarina. My name is Ishi. I come from Japan.’
‘I can so make a box,’ she said. ‘Show me.’
Before Mr Ishi could say anything, I said, ‘Cat — you will ask again. And be polite this time.’
She eyed me and I could see her tossing up whether to do as she was told. I eyed her right back. She’d better.
She gave in with one of her sunnier smiles. ‘Please, Mr Ishi, will you show me how to make the box?’
He showed us both. ‘Thank you, Mr Ishi. Thank you,’ I said.
He bowed again, and his eyes twinkled. ‘You are most welcome, Miss Ruby.’
He gave Cat another sheet. She made a box without his help. He gave her three more sheets in different colours. She made a pink box. Then she opened the picnic basket, took out a mandarin and put it into the box. ‘For you, Mr Ishi.’ She bowed to him.
She made boxes all the way to Gisborne.
Davey didn’t move from the window once.
Mr Ishi was the kindest man in the world. But he wasn’t coming back on the train.
We had two hours in Gisborne. We spent it running as fast as we could along the streets. I had a plan: make Cat so tired she’d sleep all the way home.
It mostly worked, but I wasn’t sorry when the train gave a final blast on the whistle and we came into Napier.
Lucas met us and I gave him the camera. He swung Cat into the air. ‘Was that exciting, my darling? Did you love it?’
He put her down and pulled a face. ‘Oh dear! I’m so sorry, Ruby! Was it a dreadful day?’
I told him I’d forgotten to take the photo of the railway line going through the airport. And I told him about Mr Ishi, the boxes and the races in Gisborne. I smiled at him. ‘Mr Ishi is a saint.’
Lucas glanced at his daughter. ‘The same cannot be said for certain other people. I’m glad you can still smile, Ruby.’
It hadn’t been the best day of the holidays. But we all survived. And I’d been to Gisborne.