3

FROM THE TRANSCRIPT FILE OF BINDY MACKENZIE
Thursday, 10.30 am

Auntie Veronica and Uncle Jake’s place. Veronica and Jake are in the hallway by the open front door. Jake is tossing his car keys gently in the air. I am in the kitchen.

Veronica: Watch out for that speed camera down by—
Jake: Yep. Gotcha. You just slow down when you get near—
Veronica: Okay, well, but don’t get distracted by talk radio. I had to pay Maria in two-dollar coins today, it was all I had. She didn’t seem to mind. She did Bindy’s room for me this morning, and the bathrooms.
Jake: All that while I was sleeping? She must’ve done a shocker of a job. What’s up with Bindy, anyway? Why’s she home from school?
Veronica: She’s got a sore throat, poor kid. I don’t know, I think she overworks herself. I said to her, I said, ‘Bindy, you can’t burn a candle at both—’ hello there, you. I thought you were in the tv room watching tv.
Bella: I am in the tv room watching tv.
Jake: Well, Bella-baby, it looks like you’re standing in the hallway.

Friday, 7.28 am
I have come to school early to try to catch up on missed school work. But here I sit on my shadow seat, just outside the school library

A woman’s voice: No, no, it’s perfectly fine. I lied in mine. But the rest of them should just go through.
A second woman’s voice: Do you think that’s wise? I mean—
The first woman’s voice: There’s someone sitting there—oh, it’s Bindy Mackenzie. [The first woman is Mrs Lilydale. I hadn’t recognised her voice. The other woman wears a hat tipped forward over her sunglasses. She slips away as Mrs Lily-dale speaks to me:] Bindy, we didn’t see you there! Good that it’s you, I was looking for you yesterday but it turned out you weren’t at school. We’ve got to talk debating and this problem that you have, I mean to say, the Tearsdale gets underway after . . . Oh, and I heard about those pictures in the Year 11 wing on Wednesday, and how you took them—Bindy, you look tired, have you been taking those carob-coated energy drops I gave you, let me give you some more—

Later in the morning 8.55 am, still on my shadow seat. I see Astrid and Sergio arriving at school together. Astrid has a lime-green ribbon in her hair, which sets off the darkness of her high ponytail.

Astrid: I guess I just ask myself, why would someone choose the personality she’s chosen? You know what I mean? I mean, why would you choose to be a really annoying, like, insensitive, self-centred b-i-t-c-h?
Sergio: Nice spelling. Maybe she didn’t choose it? Maybe she can’t help being that way. Didja think of that?
Astrid: Well, who else would have chosen it? She’s got to accept respons—

Sergio: Shhhhh, she’s sitting right there.
Astrid: She can’t hear me. Don’t worry about it. She can’t hear us.

Sunday, 4.30 pm
At the kitchen table in Veronica and Jake’s place. Jake is at the stove, staring into a saucepan. Bella is on the floor, quietly reading, her little finger sliding slowly across the page. There is a recipe book open on the table beside me.

Jake: [talking to himself] What, so that’s it? It can’t be right. No, there’s got to be more than this, [raising his voice] Bindy, is this right? I’m just stirring this with a wooden spoon? And that’s it? Can you read it out again?
Bindy: You’re doing it right. It’s just chocolate, cream and butter. You just stir like you’re doing.
Jake: Would you check out this melting chocolate, Bindy? Look at it spilling from the spoon, see that? Like a chocolate waterfall—it’s like that kid in the chocolate factory movie who goes up the pipe [makes a slurping noise], he goes up the pipe like [makes the slurping noise again]—I can’t believe this is it. This is how you make truffles? Veronica’s going to be over the—why don’t I do this all the time? Oh, sorry, Bindy, you’re trying to work. I’ll be quiet.
Bindy: It’s okay, Jake. Keep talking.

Monday, 8.07 am
On the school bus, surrounded by Ashbury students. From a few seats back, I hear the conversation of two people I knowit is Astrid and Elizabethwhy is it always Astrid?

Astrid: What do you reckon’s wrong with her? I mean, it must have been her that put up those photos with the animal words? She keeps going on about animals in FAD, and like describing them, so it must have been—and then she takes them all down like some kind of—I mean, what’s up with her?
Elizabeth: Maybe we should ask her?
There are two boys in the seat behind me. They are taking out their lunches.
One of the boys: What have I got today? A ham sandwich? That is so random.

Tuesday
I am in Economics. Mr Patel just handed back our essays. I got 16/20. I have never received 16/20 on anything before. Mr Patel has asked Jacob Kowalski to read out his essay. Jacob got 20/20. Someone giggles.

Mr Patel: Hang on, Jacob, until the giggles stop. I know you’re texting, Celia, don’t try to hide that phone! There will be no multi-tasking in this room!
[But I can’t stop staring at the number 16. Such a strange, unfamiliar number.]

Wednesday, 11.30 am
Year 12 students coming out of an English exam, passing my shadow seat.

Girl’s earnest voice: I think it’s, like, if you’ve got a good feeling at the end, that’s the best indication? That’s what Kara said anyway, and I was, like, ok.
Another girl’s voice: Did you do that third question? I was, like: excuse me? And that’s even though I ate fish fingers last night.
Girl’s voice: I asked Try for some help yesterday, with the
themes and that, cause she used to be an English teacher and she’s like the f. . .n life raft? You could tell she was really trying but she didn’t have an effin clue. Anyway, I guess, why would she, she’s from Ohio so they’d have different English there. Do they even speak English in Ohio?
Boy’s voice: Do you want to go to Mackas and not talk?

Later, still on my shadow seat. It’s almost 2.00 pm. Mr Botherit, our Year Co-ordinator, is rushing by.

Mr Botherit: Hey there, Bindy Mackenzie, hard at it as usual. That’s what we like to see. [He rushes onhesitatesturns back.] Bindy, don’t you have your FAD class now? [Taking a few steps closer] Bindy? Lunchtime ended an age ago, didn’t you hear the bell? Shouldn’t you be at FAD? And call me old-fashioned, but shouldn’t you stop typing when a teacher speaks to you?