On Monday morning, the situation with Pericles didn’t improve. At squad I was behind him in lane five and he was swimming dead slow, trying to force me to overtake. So I stayed behind him. At the end of the sixth lap, he stopped and stood up.
‘What’s going on?’ I said.
‘Stitch. Just go.’
‘No, you just go.’ We stood with our arms folded, backing up the next three swimmers.
Simmons spotted the stand-off and bellowed at us through his megaphone, >THOSE TWO WOMEN HAVING A MOTHER’S CLUB MEETING IN LANE FIVE, GET MOVING NOW!<
‘Go!’ Pericles shoved me. ‘You’re the big champion now.’
‘Whatever.’
Simmons was striding our way, so I ducked underwater and pushed off.
SOHCAHTOA. Shit Often Happens, Causing Arse Holes To Operate Automatically.
It’s all you need to know about trigonometry, gastroenterology and my life.
At the start of Maths I sat near Pericles, but he stood up and moved to the vacant spot next to David York. Whatever. Tibor was sitting next to Nads, which was unusual. Then Monaro sprang a surprise trig test on us. Five minutes later I caught Tibor surreptitiously sliding his paper across to show Nads his answers. How had Nads known there was going to be a test today when it was supposed to be a surprise?
At lunch I found Pericles sitting under a tree with his girlfriends. Phoenix Lee was applying a fake mermaid tattoo to Isa Mountwinter’s forearm.
‘Is licking absolutely necessary?’ Isa said.
‘If you want it to stick properly,’ Phoenix said, then looked up as I approached. ‘Hello, stalker. You here to get inked?’
‘I want to talk to Pericles.’
‘Go ahead, then.’
‘Preferably without you two tuning in.’
‘You can say whatever you need to in front of them,’ Pericles said.
‘Okay. The carnival – when I started squad, I couldn’t swim butterfly to save myself. You gave me goggles and some good advice, which I followed, and to everyone’s surprise I won.’
‘Bravo,’ he said, and the three of them clapped.
‘You’re totally pissed off at me and I can understand why, but—’
‘The world doesn’t revolve around you, mate. I’m pissed off at myself for losing my place in the relay team – nothing more.’
‘That’s the thing, Pericles. I don’t even want to be in the relay team. I don’t want to be in squad.’
‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better?’
‘Sorry for whatever it is that you think I’ve done wrong.’
‘I think you should go now.’
I hate things festering, but as I couldn’t force a resolution, I left.
After school, when I was unchaining my bike from the rack, Pericles came and stood next to me without talking. I couldn’t be arsed trying to initiate another conversation, so I started to wheel my bike away.
‘Hold up!’ he yelled. ‘Your back tyre’s flat.’
‘Shit.’
‘Odds-on it was Byron Paget. Year 8 turd who’s been busted with tacks before. Serial puncture artist.’
‘The dingus with a bowl cut?’ I said, and Pericles nodded. ‘We met in Student Welfare.’ I re-chained my bike while Pericles stood there not speaking. When I turned to face him he was massaging his temples, preparing to release some hefty burden.
‘I was devo about losing the race,’ he said. ‘But my reaction was more from a fear of how my father would react. Winning’s all that matters to him.’
‘My dad’s the same. All about the competition.’
‘He couldn’t be as bad as mine. Last year I scored ninety-nine in the maths final, equal top with Tibor. Dad wanted to know why I hadn’t extinguished myself.’
‘He meant “distinguished”.’
‘He hit me for correcting him.’
I didn’t know what to say. Pericles took a couple of deep breaths, pressing his temples again. He told me that when his father rang him before the race, he was actually calling from the pool, despite the fact that parents weren’t allowed to be there. Pericles saw him on the way to the marshalling area and it totally spooked him. Standing on the starting blocks, he had a full-on panic attack, and missed the start by a couple of seconds.
‘It was a miracle you came so close to winning,’ I said.
‘I’ve never swum so hard in my life.’
‘I saw you throwing up after.’
‘Yeah? Well, you left before the main act. My father came storming down and chewed my head off in front of Gelber while I was still hurling. Not my proudest moment.’ His train of thought was interrupted by two mynas bothering a sparrow. ‘Don’t know what drives him. Has to be more than the school-fee incentive.’
‘What’s that?’
‘If you represent Crestfield at regionals, they take a grand off your school fees. If you swim at state level, your parents pay nothing the next year.’
‘What happens if you make nationals? Do they dip your Speedos in gold and display them in the trophy cabinet?’
‘With you still in them.’ Pericles almost smiled, then his face darkened. ‘At least I won’t have to deal with the goon squad anymore. Nads, Mullows and Starkey hate me. Dad’s constant interference last year gave them and Simmons the streaming shits.’ He stared at me, unflinching, jaw tensing then sliding to chew on the words that couldn’t quite make their way out. He blinked hard then said, ‘Was deserting me to follow them a sign of your allegiance?’
‘I try not to take sides.’
‘Come back and talk to me when you say no to the brotherhood of bullshit.’ He walked away, and I felt weak as piss for not simply apologising.
On Wednesday, before training commenced, Simmons announced the team for the Crestfield Invitational with St Eugene’s and Clovelly College. Both Pericles and I had qualified for the individual butterfly, but I was named on the medley relay team. Nads, Mullows and Starkey walked over to congratulate me.
‘Welcome to the Brotherhood,’ Mullows said, patting my back with his big hand.
‘Not so fast,’ Nads said. ‘Initiation’s on Friday.’
‘What initiation?’
‘Yours,’ Starkey said. ‘Piece of piss really – no need to freak.’
>ATTENTION ALL SWIMMERS!< Deb Gelber’s megaphone cut through the banter. >SERIOUS TRAINING BEGINS TODAY.< She flipped the whiteboard to reveal the program. >IN ADDITION TO THE BREAKDOWN, EVERYBODY WHO MADE THE TEAM FOR THE INVITATIONAL WILL BE REWARDED WITH AN EXTRA FIVE HUNDRED.<
I followed Pericles to lane five. After he dived in, Nads grabbed my arm and jerked me around.
‘Leave that choking fag in the loser’s lane,’ he said. ‘You belong with us in seven.’
I turned my back on Pericles a second time.
After school, I rode the B-Line bus to Nana Locke’s flat in Dee Why for a knitting lesson. I knocked on the door and Tippi started yapping on the other side. Nana Locke let me in and the Jack Russell–Chihuahua went ballistic, running around me, barking and whimpering.
‘Don’t be afraid, little one,’ Nana said and put her hand on my shoulder. ‘This is Lincoln. He’s a nice, kind man.’
Tippi growled and nipped at my ankle.
‘That’s quite enough now,’ Nana said to her. ‘Go to your cushion!’ Tippi looked confused, so Nana pointed to the sofa and snapped her fingers. Tippi jumped onto the sofa, circled her designated cushion three times, then lay down. ‘I hope she didn’t hurt you, dear?’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, showing her my ankle. ‘I thought she was afraid of cats?’
‘And men, when she first meets them. Her first owner was a very cruel fellow apparently.’
I looked over at Tippi. Her plaintive eyes, a little too big for her head, almost melted my heart. ‘She’s lucky to have you now,’ I said and sat on the recliner. ‘You’ve had your hair done since I saw you on my birthday.’ It was short and fire-engine red like Nurse Nola’s.
‘Too bright?’ Nana said, primping it.
‘It’s hectic.’
‘I had such a lovely time at your birthday dinner, but I forgot to give you this.’ She handed me an envelope and for a moment I thought it might be last year’s card from Pop. But then I opened it and saw a picture of two elderly nudists driving a golf buggy. ‘Life begins at eighty!’ the caption said.
‘Oh dear.’ Nana took the card from me. ‘Glenda will be wondering why I wished her a sweet sixteenth.’ She put it on the sideboard and went into the kitchen, followed by Tippi. We chatted as she made us both a cup of tea, then returned and put a plate of lemon slice on the coffee table. Tippi leapt up, delicately removed one of the slices between her teeth and went back to her cushion to eat it. ‘Naughty little thing,’ Nana said with a chuckle and picked up the crumbs with a napkin. Then she turned back to me and said, ‘Now, tell me what this knitting business is all about.’
I explained the project, thinking she’d agree that it was pointless to knit something to wrap around a pole, but like Venn she was intrigued by the idea. Eager to begin, she fetched a Spotlight bag and a vintage Arnott’s red parrot tin from the cupboard.
‘What’s the frown for, sourpuss?’
‘Knitting’s traditionally for girls.’
‘Phooey. Your pop couldn’t knit but he darned all his own socks. And he baked a much better sponge than I ever could. You won’t learn diddly squat if you don’t try new things. Glenda and I are learning salsa at the community centre with a Colombian instructor called Ernesto. The way he moves gives us both the palpitations.’
‘Way too much information.’
‘Old chooks cluck the loudest – don’t you worry about that. Choose a colour while I sort out my bibs and bobs.’ I ferreted through the bag and chose a ball of atomic orange. ‘Casting on is a bit tricky, so I’ll do that for you.’ Using her fingers, she magically created a row of stitches on one of the needles.
‘Now we’re set. Watch carefully – needle through, yarn around, pull it down, slide it off. Easy as pie.’ She made me repeat the instructions as she knitted a row. ‘You take over now,’ she said and handed me the needles. But before I could begin, Tippi jumped off her cushion and came and sat on my lap, which wasn’t exactly helpful.
I grasped the needles firmly and pulled the yarn too tightly, stitching a row of mean little knots. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Don’t get huffy. You’re doing well for a first-timer.’ She put her hands over mine and guided me through a second row. ‘Keep going now, and you’ll find your rhythm.’ She fished around in the Spotlight bag and pulled out a blue-and-yellow scarf. She brushed it against the side of her face with her eyes closed. ‘I was knitting this for Pop. Ten years living here and he never wavered in his allegiance to the Eels. I might finish it for your father instead.’
‘Dad backs the Roosters now.’
‘Oh well, I’ll give it to Clarry up at six-oh-five. He’ll think all of his Christmases have come at once.’
We knitted together and chatted, the repetition soothing my mind, melting away the frustration. Every time I dropped a stitch, Nana Locke retrieved it and told me there was no mistake that couldn’t be mended. It was slow going but satisfying to see something grow beneath my hands. And Tippi stayed on my lap the whole time.
‘Somebody’s got a new friend,’ Nana said. ‘I hope you’re staying for dinner? I’ve got some nice lamb cutlets from the meat tray I won at the club.’
‘Dad wants me home by eight.’
‘It’s only half-six.’
‘I’d better get going.’ I lifted Tippi off and said, ‘You be a good girl – and take care of my grandmother.’
Nana took my face in her bony hands and her smile betrayed the weary solitude of her grief. ‘Don’t leave it so long before your next visit. And bring that father of yours along next time.’
‘Okay. Thank you so much for teaching me to knit.’
She put my knitting and an extra ball of atomic-orange yarn in a plastic bag. ‘Take these with you and keep at it. Next time I’ll teach you to purl.’