I slammed the front door back against the wall. Caleb looked up from his newspaper, put a finger to his lips and pointed at Vee’s room.
I made an effort to keep my voice low.
‘Who told them to put up that sign?’
Caleb shrugged and went back to his paper.
Anders walked in from the kitchen, a blue lunch box in his hand.
‘Your little Spanish friend suggested it,’ he said. ‘The Grade Seven Pastoral Care Committee unanimously approved it and the principal implemented it.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Mr Paulson told us when we were up at the school yesterday,’ he said.
I instantly bristled. ‘What were you doing up there?’
‘Letting your principal know how your mum was going.’
It sounded reasonable, but I wondered what else they had discussed.
‘Unanimous is good,’ said Caleb, turning a page of his newspaper. ‘Perhaps you have more supporters at that school than you think.’
He looked at me over the lip of his coffee mug. ‘Be a shame to let them down.’
I stood undecided in the doorway. ‘Where’s Manny?’
Caleb took another swig of his coffee. ‘He’s at the hospital. He’ll call when Lydia is ready to come home.’
‘Are you picking her up?’
‘I am,’ said Caleb. ‘Unless you’d prefer me to barrack for you at the carnival, then I’m sure Anders would be happy to pick up your mum–’
He left the sentence hanging. I couldn’t imagine Caleb in the midst of one hundred and twenty-six Perpetual Suckers. But the fact that he’d offered caught me off-guard.
‘Thanks, but that’s OK, you don’t have to come–’
Caleb paused, his mug halfway to his mouth. ‘Does that mean what I hope it means?’
Anders stepped forward, his voice low. ‘You should do what you’re good at, Henry.’
I looked from one to the other. They were leaving the decision up to me. No-one was going to force me to do anything.
Should I stay or should I go?
It was my decision.
I thought of Mum and how she’d feel when she turned into our street and saw that sign out the front of the school. Her name up in giant letters for all the world to see. Not quite a billboard, but good enough. For now.
I owed Perpetual Suckers something for that, I guess. Hero, too. And Caleb and Manny and Vee, for looking after me, when there was no-one else who could. And Anders too, if I was being honest with myself.
And maybe he was right; maybe I owed it to myself to do what I was good at.
I toed a frayed edge of the rug. ‘Well, I do have the funkiest trunks in the stratosphere...’
‘You do,’ said Anders. ‘Vee would be disappointed if they didn’t have their moment in the sun.’
His blue eyes held mine.
The ringing of the school bell decided me.
‘OK, I’ll go.’
‘Excellent decision,’ said Caleb, folding the newspaper and rising. ‘Do you want me to bring the car round? Or are you happy to catch the bus with the hoi polloi?’
‘I’ll get the bus,’ I said, jerking into gear. ‘I’ll just get changed, then make some lunch–’
Anders sent the lunch box skidding across the table. ‘Manny made this for you before he went to the hospital.’
‘Awesome, thanks.’ I grabbed it and headed for my room. The colour registered halfway there and I stopped and turned back to Anders.
‘Did you tell Caleb and Vee to buy me blue togs and goggles?’
He nodded.
‘You knew that blue was my team’s colour?’
He nodded again.
I hadn’t known till I went up the school this morning that Burke was the blue team. But Anders had known. Because he had cared enough to find out.
I coloured and slapped the lunch box against my leg. Twice, for luck. ‘Thanks,’ I said finally.
He smiled. His second real smile for the week. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘Happy to help.’
‘The first event of the day will be the one-hundred-metres freestyle, followed by twenty-five metres, then fifty.’ Mr Paulson’s voice sounded tinny over the loudspeaker.
‘Could the following swimmers proceed immediately to the marshalling area: Joseph Castellaro, Angelica Fitzsimmon, Briony Gibson and Henry Hoey Hobson.’
I pulled on my cap and goggles and dropped my shorts.
‘Whoa, get your sunnies out, team,’ shouted Hero. ‘Triple-H is planning to blind the opposition in the hundred-metres freestyle.’
Burke cheered and whistled. I flicked Hero with my towel, wishing that I’d brought the Lost Property Speedos instead.
My new hipster Funky Trunks were less revealing than my old togs, but they were a lot more ‘out there’ than I was used to ... they screamed ‘look at me’ when all I wanted was to fade quietly into the background.
The psychedelic blue, black and white squiggly pattern started to strobe if you looked at it too long – Don’t wear them around epileptics,Caleb had warned as I left the house. You might precipitate a conniption.
When Joey and Angelica clambered down from the Wills end of the stand, a wave of relief washed over me. Joey had on Funky Trunks too, in iridescent yellow and orange; Angelica had on the girls’ version, the Funkitas. Briony’s were a more sedate tear-drop pattern in blue, but still funky by anyone’s standards.
Thanks to Anders and Caleb and Vee, for the first time in my life, I had managed to fit in.
I followed Joey, Angelica and Briony, the giggly one from Angelica’s posse, out to the marshalling area. She wasn’t giggling today.
We all stood shaking the nerves out of our muscles, loosening them up, moving through a couple of stretches before the first race of the day.
Joey eyed me silently until a teacher I didn’t know showed up with a clipboard, and lined us up in Lanes One to Four.
‘Hey, Hobson–’ Joey jabbed me with a bony elbow. ‘Hero says you’re Burke’s secret weapon. He reckons you’re going to end their losing run. That true?’
I shrugged. I didn’t like talking before a race. Too many nerves.
‘Bet you five dollars you can’t beat Angelica.’
She flicked a quick frown at Joey. ‘Leave him alone. They’re going to call us in a minute.’
He ignored her. ‘What do you say, Hobson? Want to bet?’
I shook my head. I didn’t care about Angelica. I’d be happy just to beat Joey.
‘Stay in the order I’ve put you in,’ ordered the teacher with a clipboard. ‘And stand behind your blocks until the starter tells you differently. Now, go.’
As we filed back into the pool area, Briony leaned forward and whispered in my ear. ‘Lucky you didn’t take that bet. Angie made it to Regionals in four events last year.’
My nerves ratcheted up another notch. Angelica was in Lane Four, which meant she had the fastest qualifying time.
‘Nice togs, by the way,’ said Briony when we reached the start blocks. She was wearing blue too; we were team mates.
‘Thanks,’ I rumbled. Basso profundo was back. ‘So are yours.’
She smiled, though it beats me how she heard over the roar from the grandstands. The crowd had gone nuts. Screaming out war cries and waving blue and yellow pompoms, posters and banners. A writhing, war-painted Perpetual Sucker screamfest.
And right in front, waving like a madwoman, was a tiny blonde figure in a wheelchair.
My mum. She’d made it.
She had a bunch of blue hydrangeas that had seen better days in her lap, an arm in a sling and a leg in a dark blue half-cast. But she’d made it.
She kissed her fingertips at me and blasted me with that indestructible hundred-watt smile.
Anders stood at her back, holding a pair of crutches that had been festooned with blue ribbons. Beside him, Caleb doffed a black fedora with a sky-blue feather tucked into the band. A grinning Manny held up a blue lunch box in one hand – I must have left it in my room – and a video camera in the other. Caleb pointed at the camera and held up four fingers followed by a peace sign. 4 V.
For Vee.
Something powered through me like a current. Charging every nerve in my body. The missing pieces of my jigsaw puzzle finally coming together to form a complete picture. Not like the one on everyone else’s box. But one that suited me.
For the first time in my life, I had my own personal cheer squad.
Energy coursed through my body as I looked down the line at Angelica, Joey and Briony standing behind their blocks.
‘Good luck, everyone,’ I said, and I meant it.
‘Thanks,’ said Briony. ‘You too.’
Angelica nodded, but Joey just looked at me like I was crazy. And maybe I was. But I wasn’t interested in taking bets, just in being the best that I could be.
‘Swimmers, take your blocks,’ boomed Mr Paulson over the loudspeaker.
‘Set–’
I grabbed the lip of the starting block and leaned back, like I was cocking a gun.
The beep of the electronic starter pulled the trigger and I exploded into the blue.