‘Does she know how you feel?’ asked Grandad.
‘Get real, Pop,’ I said. ‘You know I avoid talking. And even if I plucked up the courage, what am I going to do? Walk up to her and say, “I love you, Destry”? She’d think I’m a complete loser.’
‘You’re blankety gutless,’ said Pop.
‘No I’m not,’ I said. Then I thought about it. ‘Yes, I am,’ I added. ‘And a complete loser.’
‘So what do you hope is going to happen?’
‘Well, the ideal situation is that Destry comes up to me, at recess, for example, and says, “Hi. You’re Rob and possibly the most gorgeous person I have ever seen. I realise I’m not worthy of you, but I just had to tell you that I am head over heels in love with you. Spurn me if you must, but I had to let you know.” And I’d give this really cool smile, you know, like this is something that happens to me a lot, and then I’d just walk away, but throw her a look over my shoulder, maybe give her a wink, just to let her know she was in with a chance …’
Grandad dunked a biscuit into his tea and then pointed it at me. The end fell off and hit the coffee table with a dull splat.
‘Gutless and an idiot.’
‘Harsh, but true,’ I said.
‘If we could stay in the real world for just a moment, young Rob,’ said Grandad. ‘Does she even know you exist? Have you talked to her, for example?’
‘Grandad, you know I’m painfully shy.’
‘So, you haven’t talked to her?’
‘No.’
‘Has she ever looked at you?’
‘I walked into a basketball post yesterday because I was staring at her and didn’t see it. Made a loud clang and I sat on the floor with blood running into my eyes.’
‘She saw that?’
‘I imagine. I can’t be absolutely sure because I had blood running into my eyes.’
Grandad dunked another biscuit and sucked on it while he thought. For the first time, it occurred to me that we humans end our days the same way we start them. Sucking on mush because our teeth aren’t up to it. Pop closed one eye and pointed another biscuit at me. The end fell off with another dull splat.
‘You’re going to have to make a bigger impression,’ he said. ‘Frankly, any kind of impression would be a start. Sport.’
‘Impress her with your sporting ability.’
‘I don’t have any.’
Grandad ignored me. ‘Is there a school event coming up? A sports day, something like that, where you could power home in the blankety hundred metres, trailing clouds of glory?’
There was only one sporting event on the horizon. When I told Pop about it he nodded.
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘And I know what position you are going to play. She can’t fail to notice you, which is a start. Do a good job and the scales will fall from her eyes. Even if you don’t do a good job, but you’re brave, it’ll work. You will appear to her as a god, young Rob. A god.’
‘You’re crazy, Grandad,’ I said. ‘There’s no way I’m playing in that game.’
‘You are.’
‘I’m not.’
‘I’m glad we agree,’ said Pop. ‘Now we have a campaign plan, let’s go to the community room and you can give me your best guess as to who among the inmates is going to die next. I’ve got a good idea, but I’d be interested in your view.’
‘Grandad!’ I said. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It’s totally horrible that this is what passes for entertainment in this place. It’s so bloody boring I blankety hope it’s me who’s kicking the bucket next.’
‘Grandad!’ I said again. He tries to shock me and I try not to smile.
But it’s hard.