‘She asked you yet?’
Razz and I were having lunch and waiting for the others to arrive. I shook my head at him. It was the same question he’d asked just about every day for the last few weeks. He was talking about Kelly inviting me to the Lourdes College Formal.
‘Don’t worry, man. She’ll get around to it. Sal reckons the Kelster’s been real quiet since she came back. Got her head buried in the books all the time and keeping to herself. But there’s still plenty of time. Probably just trying to keep you keen.’
If that was true it was working a treat!
‘I don’t know, Razz. I’m not even sure she’ll go to the Formal.’
‘Of course she will. Everybody goes to their Senior Formal.’
I hoped that was true. Really hoped.
‘Hey, boys. Recovered from our crushing Cross-country victory yet?’
It was Miss Tarango on playground duty. She was wearing a blue St Daniel’s sports cap and big, white-rimmed sunglasses. She could make anything look good.
‘I think I’m just starting to get some feeling back in my legs,’ Razz informed her.
‘Excellent. One point at a time,’ Miss said with a wink. Only she couldn’t do it properly and both eyes sort of closed. Even that looked good.
‘Now, what I really want to know is, have you boys worked out what talks and presentations you’re going to attend next week?’
Miss was talking about the big Courses and Careers Expo at the university. All of Year Twelve were going.
‘I know James is looking into law and politics options,’ she said, ‘and Bill wants to find out about film courses and Ignatius is checking out the sciences.’
Razz reeled back. ‘Whoa! Prindabel and science? What a shock! I had him down for interpretive dance.’
‘Well, what about you, then?’ Miss Tarango asked. ‘What does the future hold for Orazio Zorzotto?’
‘Not sure, miss. I’ve been tossing up between plastic surgeon to the stars and playboy millionaire, but I’ll probably just end up working for one of my uncles. You know, do some labouring or work in a garage. Plus, I still got the gig playing drums at the Italian Club. Probably try to do more of that.’
‘Not interested in going to uni then, Orazio, or doing more study somewhere else?’
‘Me, miss? What would I do?’
‘Something with sport, I would have thought. Physiotherapy maybe, or you could become a personal trainer or even a health and physical education teacher.’
‘HPE teacher? That’s what my girlfriend says I should do. She keeps going on about me “wasting my potential”.’
‘Sounds like one very smart young lady to me,’ Miss said. Then she tilted her head to one side. ‘And you say she’s your girlfriend, Orazio?’
‘Ignatius reckons it’s one of the great unexplained mysteries of the universe, miss,’ I informed her.
‘Hey, careful,’ Razz said, trying to look offended, ‘you could be lowering my self-esteem.’
He didn’t get much sympathy. Everyone knew you’d need a truckload of strategically placed plastic explosives to lower Razz’s self-esteem.
‘But seriously, Orazio, I want you to promise me you’ll check out some of those courses.’
‘What’s the point, miss, with my grades?’
‘You don’t even know what grades you’d need. That’s what you can find out at the careers day. And anyway, if you put your mind to it, you could improve your grades. Now promise me you won’t waste your time on the day, Orazio. Promise me you’ll think seriously about this and do some research. Promise me?’
Razz held up his hands in surrender. ‘OK, miss. I promise, I promise.’
Miss turned to me then. It was the moment I’d been dreading. I had no idea what I was going to do when I left school.
‘Ishmael, what exciting path are you going to explore after Year Twelve?’
‘Umm, I haven’t really decided, miss. I thought I might take a year off, maybe get a job and think about it for a while. I don’t really know what I’d be good at.’
‘I think you’d be good at plenty of things. But have you thought about following in the footsteps of your namesake?’
Of course I knew my namesake was the Ishmael character from Moby Dick but I couldn’t see what Miss was getting at.
‘Join a whaling fleet and hunt whales, miss?’
‘Geez, miss,’ Razz said, ‘I thought you would’ve been totally against all that whaling stuff. I know Mr Guthrie is. He’s always going on about it …’
Razz hesitated and his eyes shifted. You could almost see an idea clawing its way to the surface of his manic brain.
‘Hey, you should talk to Mr Guthrie about it, miss. Whaling, I mean. He’s really interesting and he knows heaps of stuff. He’s a great guy too, I reckon. You know, like how he’s always trying to save the rainforests and wombats and stuff. And he’s always helping people out, like us with our volleyball. He’s the best. Oh, and what about him in the teachers’ race at the swimming carnival? That was so awesome, don’t you reckon, miss? Except for the bathers, of course. Maybe you two should …’
Miss Tarango’s lips were squeezed together. Her eyes were narrowing and one eyebrow kept cranking higher and higher with each thing Razz said. She looked like a cobra poised, ready to strike if Razz took one more step into the no-go zone.
‘… Well … anyway … ummm … what were you saying before about that Ishmael’s namesake thing, miss?’
Miss Tarango made sure Razz had plenty of opportunity to read and memorise the look on her face before turning to me.
‘I definitely do not want you to hunt whales, Ishmael. What I was referring to was your namesake’s other important role in the book.’
I desperately tried to remember what Ishmael did before he joined Ahab and the crew of the Pequod. Miss Tarango finally took pity on me.
‘OK, time’s up. He was the narrator, remember? He told the story. Perhaps you could follow in those footsteps. After all, English is your best subject, and you know how I loved those pieces you showed me from your journals.’
Miss squinted and pointed a finger at me.
‘Which reminds me, Mr Leseur, why haven’t I seen anything from this year’s effort yet? You promised me something ages ago.’
‘Sorry, miss, I keep forgetting. I’ll bring some stuff next week.’
‘Well, see that you do. And make sure you check out all the creative writing courses at the expo. Your father’s a songwriter, so you’ve got words in the blood. Think about it.’
Miss left then and headed for the staffroom. She arrived at the door just as Mr Guthrie was coming out. There was a bit of awkward shuffling about before they figured out who should go first.
‘Gotta get those two together.’
I stared at him in disbelief.
‘Razz, didn’t you see Miss Tarango’s face just now when you oh-so-subtly tried to match her up with Mr Guthrie?’
Razz dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. ‘Bah! That’s nothing. She’ll end up thanking me. You’ll see.’
I knew I couldn’t change Razz’s mind so I changed the subject instead.
‘So, are you going to do what Miss suggested? Are you going to seriously look at HPE teaching?’
‘Said I would, so guess I have to. But it’s a bit stupid, don’t you reckon? Me a teacher.’
‘I don’t think it’s stupid at all,’ I said. ‘You’re already coaching and training junior kids plus our volleyball team. You’re doing a great job as Sports Captain and Mr Murphy says you practically run those afternoon activities with the boarders. I think you’d be a great teacher.’
‘Really?’ Razz seemed more than a little stunned.
At that point Scobie, Bill and Ignatius joined us at the table.
‘Hey, guys, wanna hear something hilarious? Miss Tarango and Ishmael think I should become an HPE teacher.’
‘An excellent idea,’ Scobie said. Bill nodded.
‘What, really? You too?’
Razz looked at Ignatius. ‘I got a feeling these guys are just being nice, Prindabuddy. I know you won’t pull any punches, man. Tell me honestly – I can take it – do you really see me as an HPE teacher like Mr Hardcastle?’
Ignatius thought about it for a moment.
‘No,’ he said.
Now it was Scobie’s, Bill’s and my turn to be a little stunned.
‘See? I told you guys,’ Razz said, struggling to look pleased about being proved right. ‘There’s no way I could …’
He was silenced by the Prindabel Power Pointer hovering in front of his face.
‘I haven’t finished,’ Ignatius said. ‘Mr Hardcastle could never have got me on to a volleyball court. You have. And I’m not hating it or afraid of it any more. So no, I don’t see you as a HPE teacher like Mr Hardcastle. But – and I’ll probably regret saying this – I think you could be a very different one … a better one.’
‘Really?’ Razz said, completely gobsmacked. ‘Gee … thanks … Thanks, Ignatius … thanks, man.’
The bell rang for the end of lunch then and everyone got up to go. Razz was the last one to move. I think he was still trying to imagine a future for himself that he’d never even considered possible before.
He wasn’t the only one.