Everything was going well, and then two things happened that pushed my popularity higher than Duncan Underwood’s pants (he pulled them up so high you could only see the top three buttons of his shirt).
At school, there was a marble craze. Everyone played in this dirt patch in pairs during recess and lunchtime (apart from Mitzy Galafrinkus, professional teacher’s pet. She either sat on her own doing work or was inside helping her teacher). You took turns to shoot, and whoever hit the other person’s marble first got to keep both marbles. After a few days, Johnny Wilson suggested we change the rules.
JOHNNY WILSON: How about instead of having to hit the other person’s marble, you just have to hit them? In the face. And whoever falls over first, loses.
Luckily, no one else wanted to do that.
One Saturday, just after the marble craze started, Mum said we had to clear out the garage to make room for the small person growing inside her who was soon going to become my sister.
‘Why? Is the baby going to sleep in the garage?’ I asked.
‘Of course not, Samuel!’ said Mum. ‘What a terrible thought. Oh, I’m sad just thinking about that.’
‘Well, then why do we need to clean . . .?’
‘Because we do! There’s a baby coming! We need to clean things! Now!’
That made no sense, but I didn’t say anything because Dad had told me to be extra nice to Mum because she was ‘nesting’. He said that’s when pregnant people get worried about not having things ready and want to clean everything five times.
The whole ‘new baby sister’ thing was pretty weird. I was slowly getting used to the idea, but I still had some questions.
QUESTIONS I HAD ABOUT THE WHOLE ‘NEW BABY SISTER’ BUSINESS
The garage was packed with junk because whenever Mum and Dad disagreed about whether to get rid of something (which was always) they’d just decide to put it in the garage to avoid having an argument. So now it was full of chairs, tables, lamps, books, a bed, a rocking horse, saucepans, tiles, cars (toy ones – our real car wouldn’t fit) and hundreds of other things.
When we moved from Adelaide to Canberra I thought they’d get rid of everything, but they still couldn’t agree, which meant we had to get an extra removalist truck to move all our junk from a garage in Adelaide to a garage in Canberra.
Mum, Dad and I were in the garage.
DAD: How about we get rid of those old saucepans?
Whenever Dad suggested we get rid of something, Mum always said the same thing.
MUM: We should probably keep them. Just in case.
SAM: In case of what? A world saucepan shortage?
MUM: Oh, Samuel. There’s no need to be like that.
DAD: (POINTS) What about that chair?
MUM: But that’s my aunt Mabel’s chair.
Aunt Mabel died before I was born and her old, smelly armchair has been in the garage my whole life.
DAD: Well, I’m pretty sure she’s not coming back for it!
MUM: Oh, Henry! That’s in terrible taste. Oh, dear. I’m upset now. I loved Aunt Mabel.
DAD: Sorry. But are we ever going to actually use that chair?
MUM: We can’t use it now, but you never know. Samuel might want it when he grows up.
SAM: I won’t.
MUM: Yes, you might.
SAM: ((PICKS UP GLASS JAR WITH MARBLES IN IT)) Can I have these marbles?
MUM: They were Aunt Mabel’s too. Perhaps we should keep them here. Just in case.
SAM: . . . of what?
MUM: In case of . . . (LONG SILENCE) Oh, all right, take the marbles! You’ve rushed me into it now. But be careful with them, (STARES AT SAM’S FEET, SHOCKED) You’re wearing thongs!
SAM: So?
MUM: There might be spiders! Oh, I should have checked your feet. (TO DAD) What if Samuel got bitten by a spider?
DAD: Spiders don’t usually attack. When they sense a larger creature approaching, they either freeze or retreat.
MUM: Oh, Henry, stop it with your facts. The point is I didn’t take care of Samuel properly, and when the baby arrives it’ll be even worse. (HUGS SAM) How am I going to take care of my little baby when I have another little baby?
SAM: I’m not really a baby anymore, Mum.
MUM: (LOOKS LIKE SHE’S ABOUT TO CRY) You are so! You’re my baby and I need to take care of you. (HUGS SAM) I’m sorry, darling. I’m a terrible mother.
SAM: No, you’re not.
MUM: Sweet boy. Now go inside before you die.
Most of the marbles in the jar had cat’s eye patterns like normal, but one was bigger and had a really cool, orange swirly design inside. When I brought it to school on Monday, everyone went nuts.
NOAH: WHOORR!
EVA: Gis a look!
LOTS OF OTHER KIDS: Geez! Wow! Gis a look!
CHARLOTTE: I’ve never seen one like that before. What’s it called?
SAM: Huh? Um . . . it’s . . . er . . . a Swirly.
Suddenly I was a marble celebrity.
Every time I went to the marble field I got mobbed by kids wanting to play me, and even when I wasn’t playing, kids came up just wanting to look at Swirly. I had something everyone wanted, which meant that they all liked me, or at least pretended to.
This was what I’d always wanted. I was living the dream! And things were about to get even better.
