The last day of September.
“Charley, what do you think of us using puppets for part of our English presentation? Benny asked.
“Puppets?”
“We’d do it like a TV show, and...”
I didn’t listen to any more. Imagine Benny and me with puppets! The other kids would laugh us out of Lonsdale. Especially Sammy and Rebar.
Forget about that.
••••
Wednesday, Da takes me and Annie over to Aunt Maeve’s after dinner, and then he has to go back to work.
I happen to overhear him in the kitchen telling Aunt Maeve about the damaged textbook and how I skipped school a couple of times.
“I’m a bit worried,” he tells her.
Crazy Uncle Rufus is at a meeting of the North Shore Kite Club, and Aunt Maeve is busy making a batch of her almond and walnut granola. The whole place smells rich with roasting grains and nuts.
She says to my da, “There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist about it, Tim. Don’t we all know Charley’s a dreamer. There’s not a scrap of harm in the boy, I swear to God. Stop your worrying about nothing.”
It’s not the first time I’ve heard myself called a dreamer. That was what my old Dublin teacher, Mr. Gannon, called me, too. “You’re a dreamer, Charley,” he used to say when I didn’t get my work done on time. Or, “What are ye day-dreamin’ about now, Charley Callaghan?” he’d say as I stared out the window at the sky. “What do ye see out there, I wonder? Besides the trees and clouds, I mean? Is it Charley Callaghan ye see? And himself a great leader of the Irish people, uniting our poor country after eight hundred years of foreign occupation, is that it?”
Mr. Gannon reminded me a bit of my Crazy Uncle Rufus.
I haven’t said much about Aunt Maeve. Her full name is Maeve Finch and she’s got short light-brown hair that’s going gray, and she got a nice easy-going way with her. Aunt Maeve is my ma’s older sister, though she doesn’t look a bit like Ma. She and Crazy Uncle Rufus don’t have any kids of their own. They came to Canada yonks ago, long before us.
••••
There’s hardly anyone in the mall at the weekend. I hate it when it’s not busy because it’s easier for Harvey to spy on me out his window and see if I’m dancing. So I’ve got to work harder. And there’s hardly any kids. No nice-looking girls to admire, either. It’s really boring.
Deadly.
••••
Me and Benny are working on our Prospero assignment but now and then we take time out to talk about other stuff. I know a little more about Benny now. For instance, I know he was born here in North Vancouver and that he’s got a little five-year-old brother. I ask him what his dad works at.
“Longshoreman. He was killed in an accident at work when I was five.”
“That’s too bad.” Then I remember his little brother. “So your ma married again?”
“I don’t have a stepfather if that’s what you mean. He took off after my brother was born. So now there’s just me and my mom and Rico.”
“Rico is your little brother.”
“That’s right, half-brother.”
Sammy and Rebar have been watching us.
“You two sure make a nice couple,” says Rebar from across the aisle.
Sammy gives a dirty laugh
“Screw off,” I tell them.
At the end of English as we’re leaving the room, Rebar trips Benny, and Sammy pretends it’s an accident when he falls on top of him. Mr. Korda helps Benny to his feet and tells everyone to be more careful.
Benny is holding his back. He is in pain. I help pick up his books.