Just Stupid! (6 page)

   ‘Do people get sick a lot in Germany?’

   ‘No more than other places, I expect,’ she says. ‘Why do you ask?’

   ‘I just thought with all the
germs
and everything . . .’

   The class erupts with laughter.

   One to me.

   Ms Livingstone runs her hand through her hair.

   ‘Well, that’s actually a very interesting question you’ve raised, Andy,’ she says. ‘Standards of health vary all over the world. For instance, when I was living with the Eskimos, I noticed that . . .’

   Danny leans forward.

   ‘You lived with Eskimos?’ he says. ‘In an igloo?’

   ‘Oh yes,’ she says. ‘I was part of an expedition searching for the Abominable Snowman.’

   The whole class is silent while she explains. One to her.

   ‘Dan,’ I say. ‘Dan!’

   But he can’t hear me. He’s too involved in Ms Livingstone’s story. To tell you the truth, it is quite interesting. Especially the stuff about falling into the crevasse and trying to light a fire with only one match and a handful of wet wood—but that’s not the point. We want to be expelled! Or at least I do. Danny can stay here if he wants. I’ve got things to do, places to be. I’m not sure what they are yet but I’ll think of something.

   I might as well stop beating around the bush.

   ‘Ms Livingstone?’ I say.

   ‘Yes, Andy?’

   ‘Can I be expelled?’

   ‘I’m sorry, Andy, but I don’t have the power to do that. That’s a matter for the principal.’

   ‘Can you send me to him?’ I say.

   ‘But why?’ she says. ‘What have you done wrong? What rules have you broken?’

   ‘What rules
haven’t
I broken!’ I say, getting out my school diary. I start reading: ‘“No leaning back on chairs. No feet on tables. No hats inside. No offensive slogans on clothing. No eating in class. Show respect to teachers. Show respect to fellow students and their property. No Walkmans. No banging. No tapping. No spitballs.” I’ve broken every rule there is and it’s not even recess!’

   Ms Livingstone stands there thinking. She’s got to send me to the principal’s office now. She has no choice.

   ‘Rules are very interesting things,’ she says. ‘It is important to have rules and laws and to obey them . . . but it is also important to know when to break them. In fact, sometimes, your life can depend on not obeying a rule or a law.’

   Uh-oh, here we go again.

   ‘For instance,’ she continues, ‘in most societies there are laws against cannibalism, and yet when the light aeroplane I and my husband were piloting crashed in the Andes and I was stranded for three months without food, I had to decide whether I was going to observe that law and face certain death, or break the law in order to survive.’

   Ms Livingstone pauses. Everybody is listening now. Even me.

   ‘You had to eat your husband?’ I say.

   She stares wistfully into the distance. Tears form in the corners of her eyes. She brushes them away.

   ‘Perhaps now is not the right time to talk about it,’ she says. ‘All I’m saying is that sometimes rules have to be broken.’

   I check the fingers on her left hand. She’s wearing a wedding ring. What a phoney. I bet she didn’t really eat her husband. I bet she had a secret stash of muesli bars or something and
she’s just pretending that she ate her husband. She’s a fake.

   ‘I thought this morning that I might introduce myself by showing you some slides of my most recent travels,’ she says. ‘Can somebody help me to set up the projector and the screen?’

   ‘I will!’ says Danny. He practically leaps out of his seat and runs to the cupboard to get the screen out. Definitely not the sort of behaviour that’s going to get him expelled.

   While he sets up the screen I lean back on my chair, turn up my Walkman full blast, drum on the table with my hands and sing the guitar solos at the top of my voice.

   Ms Livingstone doesn’t kick me out though. She’s saying something to the class. She points at me. They all look across and laugh. Even Lisa. I don’t know what Ms Livingstone said but I don’t think they’re laughing with me any more. They’re laughing at me. Another one to her.

   She turns the lights out and shows a slide of herself rowing a canoe down a river. On either side of the river is thick jungle.

   I pick up my spitball shooter. The thing I really like about slide shows is that they give you a chance to practise precision spitball shooting. You only get a little bit of time to hit each target before the next slide appears. I take a deep breath and aim my shooter at Ms Livingstone’s pith helmet.

   Damn. Too hard. I’ve blown the shooter right out of my hand. It’s landed up near the front of the room.

   I get out of my seat and walk down the aisle to retrieve it.

   Suddenly there’s an enormous crash. I’ve tripped over the projector cord and knocked the slide projector off the table.

   Silence.

   Ms Livingstone turns the lights on. She stares at me.

   ‘Please don’t feel bad, Andy,’ she says. ‘It’s time for a new projector anyway. That’s just the excuse I needed to update. I’ve always wanted one with a remote-control wheel, but while the other projector still worked I just couldn’t justify the expense.’

   I pick up my spitball shooter and go back to my desk. Looks like getting sent to the principal’s office is going to be harder than I thought. I’ve still got one last weapon though. Blood capsules!

   I take two out of my pocket.

   ‘Danny,’ I say, ‘pretend to punch me in the mouth.’

   ‘Punch you in the mouth?’ says Danny. ‘But why? You’re my best friend.’

   ‘No, don’t really do it,’ I say. ‘Just pretend.’

   ‘Why?’ he says.

   ‘So that we get into trouble for fighting. I’m going to bite down on some blood capsules and make it look really bad.’

   ‘But I’m not sure I want to get expelled any more,’ says Danny.

   ‘What about our deal?’ I say.

   ‘But our new teacher is just so cool,’ he says. ‘She’s so interesting.’

   ‘I pity you,’ I say. ‘She’s not interesting. She’s a fake. A phoney. She hasn’t even eaten her husband.’

   ‘How do you know?’ says Danny.

   ‘Because she’s wearing a wedding ring for a start,’ I say.

   ‘Maybe she only ate a bit of him and then they were rescued,’ says Danny.

   ‘What—she ate part of him while he was still alive?’ I say.

   ‘Yes,’ says Danny. ‘Maybe they just ate his toes or something he didn’t really need.’

   ‘Suit yourself, Dan,’ I say. ‘Believe what you want—but if you don’t want to get expelled, I’ll just tell her that you hit me because I provoked you.’