night and slit her throat. I say I’m going to throw her dog in front of a train.’
‘Why, Mackenzie?’
‘Because I will never be as good as India at anything. She makes me feel stupid and ugly. She makes me feel like shit,’ I blurt.
The Red Man doesn’t answer. ‘That’s not the worst thing you’ve done, is it, Mackenzie?’
I shake my head, but I haven’t finished. ‘And do you know something? She has no idea that it’s me. I’m so low to her that I can go right into her house. It’s as if I’m invisible. I can walk right up to her face and she doesn’t even see me.’
‘What’s the worst thing you’ve done?’
‘I’ve told you.’
‘No. You’ve done worse than that.’ He grabs me by the hair and lifts. I squeal with shock and pain. It takes my breath away. ‘Tell me!’
My eyes squeeze shut. I feel a bead of moisture run down my cheek. It could be sweat or a tear. I hope it’s not blood.
He loosens his grip a little.
One time in Year 3 I stayed over at Katie Winter’s house. Her mother picked us up from school in a dark green car that was done up with white leather inside.
Katie lived on the top of what Dad called ‘Persnickety Hill’, because her mother came from old money. Lots of girls from that school had old money. I didn’t know why Katie had invited me, because we hadn’t played much before that. The other girls said that their parents told them not to play with me. They said our family was nouveau riche, and apparently that wasn’t as good.
At Katie’s house there was a window from the floor to the ceiling in the lounge room and you could see the glowing houses below, and the moving red lights of the cars winding through the streets. The glass had no smudges on it, even on the outside, and when you stood near the edge you thought you might fall through it.
We played in Katie’s room. She had twin beds in gloss white with pale green bedspreads, even though she didn’t share with anyone. There was a matching white bookcase and a wardrobe with louvre doors, but no dust on them. Neither of my bedrooms looked like that.
Katie played Oasis – ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?’ on a portable CD player. I had a CD player too, but I only ever played music from my parents’ CD collection – old-fashioned music.
Katie let me hold her Tickle Me Elmo. It smelled toyshop-new, even though she’d had it since Christmas. The pictures in her room were matching and framed, and I bet she wasn’t allowed to stick up any posters with Blu Tack.
I decided that having old money meant that you had to keep your house looking as though nobody actually lived there.
Mrs Winter made coleslaw from scratch and potato bake with bubbling cheese on top. Mr Winter cooked steak on a barbecue with a lid and all sorts of knobs, levers and cables, like a spaceship. Katie showed me how to place my serviette across my lap instead of tucking it into my collar.
During the meal Mrs Winter asked what my father did. I was about to tell them that he had an earthmoving business – my parents had been very clear about me telling lies – but I thought a chemist sounded much better; less nouveau riche.
I wanted them to like me, so when Mr Winter asked for details I pictured the chemist’s shop in my mind and I told him everything I could remember. I told him about the runner and the customers on their plastic chairs and how I played imaginary hopscotch down the middle of the shop while I waited for my dad. I even gave him the address.
6
P RAYING
The waves are crashing over me again and I’m drowning. There are tears rolling down my cheeks. I’m so tired. I can’t keep my head up, or my eyes open.
The Red Man has me by the shoulders and he’s shaking me.
About two weeks after the runner boy ate all the pills in the chemist’s shop, Paul Hiller pushed in front of me in the canteen line. I punched him in the back of the head, and then when he turned around I punched him in the neck. Then all
‘Why, Mackenzie?’
‘Because I will never be as good as India at anything. She makes me feel stupid and ugly. She makes me feel like shit,’ I blurt.
The Red Man doesn’t answer. ‘That’s not the worst thing you’ve done, is it, Mackenzie?’
I shake my head, but I haven’t finished. ‘And do you know something? She has no idea that it’s me. I’m so low to her that I can go right into her house. It’s as if I’m invisible. I can walk right up to her face and she doesn’t even see me.’
‘What’s the worst thing you’ve done?’
‘I’ve told you.’
‘No. You’ve done worse than that.’ He grabs me by the hair and lifts. I squeal with shock and pain. It takes my breath away. ‘Tell me!’
My eyes squeeze shut. I feel a bead of moisture run down my cheek. It could be sweat or a tear. I hope it’s not blood.
He loosens his grip a little.
One time in Year 3 I stayed over at Katie Winter’s house. Her mother picked us up from school in a dark green car that was done up with white leather inside.
Katie lived on the top of what Dad called ‘Persnickety Hill’, because her mother came from old money. Lots of girls from that school had old money. I didn’t know why Katie had invited me, because we hadn’t played much before that. The other girls said that their parents told them not to play with me. They said our family was nouveau riche, and apparently that wasn’t as good.
At Katie’s house there was a window from the floor to the ceiling in the lounge room and you could see the glowing houses below, and the moving red lights of the cars winding through the streets. The glass had no smudges on it, even on the outside, and when you stood near the edge you thought you might fall through it.
We played in Katie’s room. She had twin beds in gloss white with pale green bedspreads, even though she didn’t share with anyone. There was a matching white bookcase and a wardrobe with louvre doors, but no dust on them. Neither of my bedrooms looked like that.
Katie played Oasis – ‘(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?’ on a portable CD player. I had a CD player too, but I only ever played music from my parents’ CD collection – old-fashioned music.
Katie let me hold her Tickle Me Elmo. It smelled toyshop-new, even though she’d had it since Christmas. The pictures in her room were matching and framed, and I bet she wasn’t allowed to stick up any posters with Blu Tack.
I decided that having old money meant that you had to keep your house looking as though nobody actually lived there.
Mrs Winter made coleslaw from scratch and potato bake with bubbling cheese on top. Mr Winter cooked steak on a barbecue with a lid and all sorts of knobs, levers and cables, like a spaceship. Katie showed me how to place my serviette across my lap instead of tucking it into my collar.
During the meal Mrs Winter asked what my father did. I was about to tell them that he had an earthmoving business – my parents had been very clear about me telling lies – but I thought a chemist sounded much better; less nouveau riche.
I wanted them to like me, so when Mr Winter asked for details I pictured the chemist’s shop in my mind and I told him everything I could remember. I told him about the runner and the customers on their plastic chairs and how I played imaginary hopscotch down the middle of the shop while I waited for my dad. I even gave him the address.
6
P RAYING
The waves are crashing over me again and I’m drowning. There are tears rolling down my cheeks. I’m so tired. I can’t keep my head up, or my eyes open.
The Red Man has me by the shoulders and he’s shaking me.
About two weeks after the runner boy ate all the pills in the chemist’s shop, Paul Hiller pushed in front of me in the canteen line. I punched him in the back of the head, and then when he turned around I punched him in the neck. Then all
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