Although Alana and her mum looked very alike, with the same almond-shaped eyes and dark, brown hair which seemed to have a mind of its own, it was there that the similarities ended. Emma’s idea of a Good Time, for example, was to hire a real crocodile for Alana’s pirate-themed birthday party, dancing llamas that couldn’t dance, and fire-breathers that set fire to Alana’s hair. For everybody in the southern hemisphere, the first of September marked the first day of spring. For Alana it meant an annual trip to the hospital. With her dad, Hugo, gone, Alana was the one who made sure their bills were paid on time and that important dates were remembered. Somebody around the house had to.
It was no surprise, then, that Emma followed her own logic when it came to recipes, D.I.Y. and medical prescriptions. More jelly? Simple: add another cup of boiling water. Botched job above the fireplace? Easy: cover the hole with a mirror. Sick? No problem: just take four times the dose of painkillers to get better, four times faster. She had an article to finish and a deadline to meet. Emma wasn’t wasting time nursing a sore tooth. And there was no way she was going to a dentist! Earlier that morning (before her debut on Speedsters) she’d lined up the bottles of herbal remedies, anti-histamines, and painkillers her friends, Katriona and Ling Ling, had provided, and popped one of each into her mouth. With cheeks bulging like a hamster, she kissed Alana goodbye, before getting in her battered ute. As an afterthought, she jotted an idea for her article on the car window in peach lipstick.
Emma drove the way she lived life – straddling two lanes at the same time, as if she couldn’t decide which direction to take until the last minute. When the chemical concoction began to take effect, passing cars seemed to slow down, while traffic lights rocketed into the air. Everything felt muddled. Psychedelic colours spun. Emma experienced a sudden rush of energy. She pushed her foot on the accelerator. Wheeee! She could fly!
Drivers were terrified by the ute’s erratic behaviour.
“Watch out!” an ambulance driver yelled, when the ute overtook him.
“Maniac!” cried a Maserati driver as Emma flew past.
In answer, Emma gave a royal wave and smiled serenely. Through the hazy fog that was now pain-free, she sang: “Rubber ducky, you’re the one. You make bath time so much fun. Rubber ducky, you’re the one for meeeeeee!”
The ute jumped over a barrier and landed hard, jerking like a bucking bronco. “Woh, Nellie,” Emma responded. She stroked her ‘horse’. The steering wheel spun out of control. Now the ute was travelling 120km/hr, down a busy highway, on the wrong side of the road.
Drivers swore and swerved to avoid the car. Emma stared at them like they were wild steeds to be caught, her lips pulled back in a manic grin. She whipped her ‘horse’ and urged it forward. The car wiggled all over the road. One by one, the ute attracted a string of police cars like iron files to a magnet. Sirens blared. Lights flashed. Emma reached for her lasso …
…
When the charge against Alana’s mum, Emmalina Estafania Corazon Oakley, was read aloud for Emma to respond to, no one was more surprised than her.
“I have no memory of it, Your Honour … ess,” she added, because the judge was a woman. If the judge appreciated Emma’s thoughtfulness, she did not show it. If anything, her expression became sterner. Judge Debnham’s constant displeasure had worn grooves into the skin surrounding her mouth and between the two neatly, plucked auburn eyebrows that hovered over piercing, blue eyes. She did not suffer fools gladly. While the framed cross-stitch in her office warned: “Your sin will find you out”, a common addendum to the saying was that if your sin didn’t find you out, Judge Debnham most certainly would. Such was her reputation around the courts.
Judge Debnham’s voice rang clear. “Your poor judgment came at great expense to the local taxpayer, Ms Oakley. High-speed car chases do not come cheap. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but I cannot let this pass without some lesson to be learnt. According to your record, you have displayed several instances of misplaced judgment before. I hereby sentence you to a total of thirty hours Community Service, so the wealth of your … ‘expertise’ … can be shared with others less fortunate.”
“Plead the Fifth!” came a voice from the back of the courtroom.
“We’re not in America, you fool!” Katriona cried.
“America, Australia, same-same lah!”
“Who said that?” Judge Debnham demanded with a severe purse of her lips. A bout of angry whispering ensued.
After a few moments, Ling Ling stood up; resplendent in varying shades of orange. She was going through a ‘Buddhist phase’ after a trip to Thailand. The saffron hues of the monks’ robes had made an impression … though not of the spiritual kind. A slipper of iridescent gold pressed firmly into the toes of the woman beside her until she too, jumped up with a glare. The woman was just as tall as Ling Ling but shaped like a sitar – thin and flat on top while her backside ballooned. While today, Ling Ling favoured the rich, shimmering colours of the East, the other woman assumed the jungle print of a tiger. The fabric clung to her curves as if the pelt were her own. Black and orange striped nails gripped her waist as her not-so-sizeable chest leaned in one direction and her more sizeable rear took off in the other. She wasn’t taking any chances – you never knew when someone might take a photo.
“Ahh yes, let me hazard a guess that one of you is Ms Katriona Karovsky and the other, Ms Ling Ling Shu. You seem, Ms Oakley, to persist with friends with whom you share a colourful past.” The judge eyed her speculatively. “Obviously you’re the type of person who takes longer to learn their lesson. Perhaps forty hours of Community Service is more appropriate? Unless counsel suggests otherwise?” she said with a pointed glance at Emma’s friends.
“But she didn’t know what she was doing.” Alana burst out. “It was the drugs she took for her tooth ache!”
“And who may you be? Oh no, don’t tell me. You must be Alana Oakley, the defendant’s daughter. Thank you for your report cards, young lady, but I am afraid that straight A’s do not change the fact that your mother broke several laws. And of course the charges only cover the infringements she was caught for. Who knows what else she might have done …”
“But she didn’t mean to!” James said next, jumping up to stand next to Alana. James, back from his Ugandan photo-shoot, looked lean and sun-tanned. Katriona immediately struck a new pose. Raar! She miaowed, extending a claw to James. Surely he would be inspired to take a photo of her now? James’s shocked eyes sought solace in the ceiling.
The judge leaned back in surprise and banged her gavel. “Enough! I will not have my court made a mockery of! I hereby sentence Emmalina Estafania Corazon Oakley to a total of sixty hours Community Service at the Police Boys’ Club in Newtown. Perhaps they can have a positive influence on your life. And if I hear another word, I will make it eighty! IS. THAT. CLEAR?”
The sound of the gavel was loud and sharp. Any further protests died a quick death on people’s lips. Judge Debnham paused and peered over her glasses.
“Have you seen to that tooth of yours yet, Ms Oakley?”
Emma gulped. The air rushed from her lungs. “Kind of …” she managed to choke out.
“May I remind you, you are under oath, Ms Oakley. Either you have, or you haven’t.”
“Not yet, Your Supreme Highness.”
“The court, therefore, also orders you to visit a dentist immediately. Well,” she barked, “what are you waiting for?”
Emma stepped down from the witness stand and scrambled for her belongings before stumbling into the sun.
The dentist.
Emma’s worst nightmare.