On the second day back Max Fargo marched towards me as I was waiting to go into my geography class.
‘Is it true, Law?’
Max Fargo wasn’t in any of my classes. I’d say he was probably the best in the school at wandering the corridors. Most teachers chucked him out after about ten minutes of having him in their lesson, quickly followed by his little lapdog, Bones. Let’s say that Max Fargo and Bones weren’t your typical pens-out-books-on-the-table-heads-up-teach-me-something students. If Old Country officials ever managed to get their claws into the school system, then clowns like Max and Bones would get their arses rattled big time.
‘Yeah, is it true, Law?’ Bones said.
‘Is what true?’ I said.
‘That your little girlfriend we met on the bus is from Old Country?’ Max said.
For a split second I thought he meant Erin F when he said girlfriend. If only!
‘Yeah, that Old Country girlfriend,’ Bones said.
Bones was a wonder of medical science! He never failed to impress.
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’ I said.
‘We don’t need to ask him; we’ve been told,’ Max said.
‘Yeah, we’ve been told,’ Bones followed.
‘His mob is the reason why loads of our mates are still missing,’ Max said.
‘Yeah, loads of mates,’ Bones added.
I held in a sarcastic laugh. Most of the missing people that I knew would have crossed the road to escape these tossers. Mates? That must have been a joke.
‘Who told you?’ I asked, because only Mercy and Erin F knew where Pav was from, and surely neither would contemplate sharing the same air with these two tosspots. Any conversation was out of the question.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know who told us, Flaw, eh?’ Bones took to occasionally calling me Flaw; he thought that the entire school would soon catch on to this piece of comedy genius. No one else ever called me it.
‘Norman told us,’ Max said.
Bones looked offended.
‘What does Norman know about anything?’ I said.
Norman, bloody mega mouth.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know, Flaw,’ Bones said.
Max piped up.
‘He told us his name, where he was from and where he lives now. He told us loads of stuff.’
Bones looked dejected.
‘So what,’ I said.
‘So what?’ Bones said.
‘Yeah, big deal,’ I said.
‘Big deal?’ Bones said.
I’d lose the will to live if I had to hang with Bones all day.
‘Who cares? It’s no big deal where he’s from, Max,’ I said.
‘Oh, I think it’s a big deal,’ Max said.
‘Big deal.’ By this time nobody was listening to or looking at Bones.
‘And I don’t like Old Country people anyway,’ Max stated.
I hear they speak so highly of you though, Max.
‘Yeah … Old Country people.’
‘And neither should you like them, Law,’ Max said.
‘I don’t hate anybody,’ I said, which is a bit of a lie because I did hate the people who smithereened our town and school. But I didn’t hate just for the sake of hating. That’s nuts.
‘Well, we know that that little pussy’s Old Country,’ Max said.
‘Little pussy,’ Bones said, still floating around in his magical world.
‘So what if he is? What’s it got to do with me?’ I said.
‘He’s your mate, Law,’ Max said.
‘Yeah, your mate.’
‘That doesn’t make me from Old Country, does it?’ I said.
‘But hanging around with the enemy makes you the enemy too.’ Max stepped closer and put his finger on my chest. Jabbed me twice. I didn’t move my face muscles. Up until that point I was fine and dandy but now my knees trembled. I think Max had seen far too many violent war movies.
‘He’s the enemy,’ Bones said, taking a step closer as well.
‘Pav’s not the enemy,’ I said, taking a half step back.
Bones guffawed. Max sniggered and shook his head.
‘What sort of twat name is that?’ Max said.
‘Twat name.’
Max gave the eyes to Bones, who stepped back a tad.
‘That’s his name. I don’t see anything funny about it,’ I said.
I’m not sure, but I think I might have done a tiny inside snigger myself when I first heard the name Pav.
‘Well, you tell Lav or Pav or whatever the hell his stupid name is that he better watch his back,’ Max said. ‘Or else.’
‘Watch his back, or else.’
‘What has Pav ever done to you two, eh?’
Max wasn’t expecting this. Bones expects nothing from life. Max stared at me.
‘I’ll tell you what he’s done, Law.’
‘I’m listening,’ I said, puffing out my chest, feeling all high and mighty like I was some sort of top boy. But I wasn’t a top boy. I was only little Charlie Law who liked the simple things in life. Shedding, reading, eating and a bit of tomfoolery. Oh, and dreaming about cosy nights in/out with a certain young redhead. I unpuffed my chest and waited for Max’s answer.
‘He was born, that’s what he’s done,’ Max said. ‘He breathes my air, that’s what he’s done. Look around you: that’s what he and his mob have done.’
‘We’re all born, Max. And we all have to breathe in order to stay alive,’ I said.
‘Don’t get smart with me, Law, or I’ll break your pig snout.’ Max turned his hand into a fist and lifted it inches from my snout.
Max put his snout closer to my snout. Our snouts were almost touching. Eskimo kissing. His breath reeked of fags and shit.
‘Just tell your pal and his skanky Old Country army that he’s not welcome here,’ Max said. ‘That’s enough for now.’
Max took his snout and his rank breath back a stride.
I went into geography. Late. Not my style. Sat for an hour bricking it, weighing up my options. I considered The Big Man’s guns and how much damage two bullets could do.