Spud - Learning to Fly (39 page)

05:30 Awoke for an early morning game walk with our professional tracker Khululani. Despite Khululani showing us numerous spoor and regaling us with stories about leopards that live in the caves, the sum total of the walk was three impala and a zebra, all of which were drinking from the birdbath in the head ranger’s garden.

10:00 Ranger Nicky announced that we were now officially working together as one team again. Ranger Neil led us across to the smouldering fireplace and pointed at four empty barrels, eight poles and a mighty length of rope.

Our task is to make a seven-man raft and then sail ourselves down the river for two kilometres where all the rangers will be waiting for us at the finish line. We are competing against all the other houses with the winning team receiving four litres of Coke at the finish line. This may not sound like much of a prize, but after two days of bushwhacking the thought of guzzling ice cold Coke was like heaven.

‘Go!’ shouted Ranger Neil in a strident voice.

Immediately an argument broke out between Boggo and Rambo about how to build a raft that could withstand the weight of six boys and a rhinoceros.

10:30 Still arguing and haggling, I try to act as peacemaker but Rambo pushes me away and threatens to hit anybody who breaks his concentration.

10:35 Rambo and Simon build the raft. Garlic pretends to look heavily involved from a safe distance. Boggo and Fatty sulk together under a tree and gossip about Rambo and Simon pushing for prefect. Vern stands so close to me that I can hear the wind whistling in his nose.

11:00 Rambo declares the raft built, and orders Garlic and me to drag it down the slope to the river.

11:08 The raft can’t handle Fatty’s weight and begins to sink.

11:11 The Woodall third years mock our raft and wave goodbye as they sail merrily down the river.

11:12 Boggo suggests that the raft has been poorly constructed. Rambo throws a rock at him, narrowly missing his head.

11:14 The raft capsizes as Fatty leaps aboard for his second attempt.

11:16 Barnes third years float past, and sneer at our comical efforts.

11:18 Barnes third years disappear around a bend in the river giving us a loud rendition of the wanker chant.

11:20 Rambo attaches Fatty to the raft by means of a rope tied to his foot. We set off, dragging an unhappy Fatty behind us.

11:22 Round the first bend to discover numerous rapids ahead.

11:23 Fatty notices the rapids and begins screaming at us to untie him.

11:24 Rambo grows irritated with Fatty’s persistent screaming and nonchalantly lets out close to 60m of rope. Fatty’s desperate hollering merges into the sound of the roaring rapids.

11:25 Vern attempts to untie the rope knot attached to the raft but falls overboard.

11:28 Fatty (still attached to raft) and Vern crash down the rapids screaming in agony.

11:30 Vern manages to stagger out of the river and collapses on the riverbank.

11:55 Our raft comes in stone last, and we are rudely jeered upon crossing the finish line.

11:57 Near dead Fatty crosses the finish line.

After Woodall had finished crowing on about their victory and downing their Coke, we enjoyed a lunchtime braai at the river with the entire third year class of ’92. Had a chat to Geoff Lawson who said he’s been trying his luck with VPH this term but she’s stopped answering his letters. He then asked me if I thought I was going to be a prefect.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘And you?’

‘Definitely,’ he replied.

After breakfast Ranger Neil ordered us to find a quiet space to spend an hour reflecting on what we had learned this weekend.

We all went our separate ways and a great silence descended on the red camp and surrounds. I found a secluded spot in the shade and began reflecting on a weekend of disasters and endless bickering.

About twenty minutes into my meditation, Ranger Neil suddenly appeared and asked me if I was all right. I told him I was reflecting. He then asked me if I had any questions that I would like to ask him. I shook my head and returned to my thoughts. Ranger Neil then crept off to bug the next reflector.

About ten minutes later there was a loud scream to my left. Through the foliage I saw Ranger Neil charging back to his tent in a blind panic.

Boggo claims Ranger Neil interrupted him with his pants down having a slash. Nobody believed him.

16:00 It was truly marvellous to be back at school. It takes a weekend like that to realise how good we have it here. The school buildings looked beautiful as they basked in the afternoon sun. Apart from the odd seeping puddle in the grass, you would never have thought a great storm had ripped through here just a few weeks ago.

I showered for half an hour, but still I reek of the Umgeni River.

There’s a rumour circulating that Pike has left school for good, but I’m not letting my guard down.

Viking hauled the Crazy Eight into the common room and shat all over us for our behaviour this weekend. He said he had received a very poor report from the rangers who rated us the most uncooperative third year group in the school.

‘Now I’m not going to single out individuals,’ roared Viking, ‘but I will be reconsidering the number of prefects I select for next year.’

He then informed us that our leadership duties begin tonight. Rambo and Simon have been selected to take the first and second years for prep. Viking left with a scowl on his face looking like if he had it his way, none of us would be chosen as prefects.

20:30 Rambo had absolutely no trouble with the first years, who kept rigidly silent for two hours. Simon gave Spike and Thinny hard labour for throwing paper jets at each other in the second years’ prep classroom.

Boggo reckons Simon is pushing hard for prefect. He said it was disgusting to witness a good man sell his soul to the devil for a mere position of power.

One week until exams begin. The slogging has begun.

Reverend Bishop announced that we had eighteen days until the confirmation service, and that we had fallen woefully behind.

What’s new?

18:00 Gloom and doom at the dinner table. Word’s out that Eggwhite is staying for post matric. This means, despite the fact that he’s the most ineffectual prefect in recorded history, he will definitely be a prefect again next year.

‘Why the hell is he doing post matric?’ asked Fatty, looking the most alarmed I’ve seen him in ages.

‘Because he’s as thick as pig shit,’ replied Boggo. ‘He can’t get into varsity on his current results, so he’s gonna try sneak in the back door.’

‘What back door?’ questioned Garlic.

‘The same back door I use when I visit your old lady,’ retorted Boggo, biting the skin around his nails.

‘So one of us won’t be a prefect because of Eggwhite,’ said Fatty.

‘And …’ interrupted Boggo, ‘we’ll have to spend the whole of next year with Eggwhite poking his nose into everything we do.’

Simon shook his head and said that he hated Eggwhite. For a man who claims to not want to be a prefect, he seemed ill at ease. Perhaps it’s a result of the nervous breakdown, but Simon seems harsh and extreme and very quick to anger.

‘Let’s kill him!’ whispered Boggo without appearing to be joking.

Rambo spooned some rice into his mouth and said, ‘Who knows – perhaps Eggwhite will be our next head of house?’

We ate the rest of our chicken à la king in a troubled silence.

Boggo and Fatty have been ordered to take prep tonight. Clearly Viking thinks they are the next most responsible third years. Even Garlic agreed that my chances of being a prefect now are as good as gone.

I’m expecting nothing. Looking down, thinking up.

16:00 Eggwhite emerged from the bogs and appeared to have been crying. I asked him how his exams were going but he didn’t answer and walked sadly out of the house.

Vern and Garlic have been selected to take prep tonight. Either Viking thinks I’m an imbecile, or I received a terrible report from the rangers. Vern managed to keep the first years silent but Garlic lost control of the second year prep classroom, which descended into loud arguments and Garlic threatening to stab Spike in the eye with a compass. Garlic had to be relieved of his duties by Meany Dlamini a mere half an hour into the prep session. He returned to our classroom with eyes bulging with indignation.

‘I guess we can scratch Garlic off the list then,’ sniggered Boggo.

Poor Garlic sank into his chair and buried his head in his hands.

‘Hey, look on the bright side, Garlic,’ said Boggo cheerily, ‘at least you were asked to take prep.’

I ignored him and ploughed on with my revision.

We lost badly in the return fixture against Blacksmith. I made a duck and didn’t bowl. Norm (I don’t believe in spinners) Wade doesn’t like losing and didn’t say a word to the team after the game. Worried I might get dropped again.

Rambo led a twenty-second silence before breakfast to mark the day of Gecko’s death. It should have been thirty seconds, but halfway through Garlic shouted, ‘How long are we keeping silent for?’

Gecko seems a long time ago now. I no longer feel any pain when I think about him, and I don’t think about him as much as I did. Perhaps my brain finally twigged that he wasn’t coming back after all. Or maybe it’s just that life carries on and there’s nothing we can do about it.

17:30 ‘Hey, Spud!’ called Whiteside from the door of the prefects’ room. He beckoned me over and ushered me inside. Whiteside collapsed into a large armchair surrounded by notes and sighed.

‘Matric’s a bitch,’ he grumbled. ‘You just wait, third year is nothing in comparison.’ He stared at the carpet. ‘Just one more week and I’m out of here!’

I asked him what he was doing next year.

‘WITS,’ was the reply. ‘Best university in the world.’ We were both silent. ‘How’s the pushing for prefect going?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Terrible,’ I said. ‘Everyone hates everyone else.’

Whiteside laughed and casually informed me that I would be conducting house roll call every morning for the rest of the week.

‘And I want you downstairs showered and changed by 6:20 every morning.’

I promised Whiteside I would do my best and made for the door before he began one of his infamous lectures. ‘Oh –’ he shouted, ‘and make sure Thinny and Runt are looking respectable.’

‘Definitely,’ I said, and left the prefects’ room.

‘What’s going on?’ demanded Boggo the moment I stepped out. He and Garlic were glaring at me suspiciously, like I might know something incredibly valuable.

‘Nothing,’ I replied and tried to push past them, but Boggo grabbed my arm and held me back.

‘So what was that chat with Whiteside all about then?’ he asked, his face inches from mine.

‘He gave me a lecture on house respect,’ I lied.

Boggo eyed me shiftily for a moment and then he and Garlic moved off to the house bench to talk about me.

I’m not sure why, but the conversation with Whiteside gave me the creeps. After writing yesterday that I don’t think of Gecko much any more, I haven’t stopped thinking about him since. Being hauled into the prefects’ room by the head of house was a little too much like déjà vu. Especially in the dying season …

I wonder how Gecko would have been acting if he were still with us. I’d like to think that he would have given pushing for prefect the middle finger, and hauled me up to Hell’s View to talk about something more important.

‘Right! Line up!’ I shouted at the crowd of boys milling about the house entrance. Rambo stared at me with uncomprehending eyes and Boggo’s expression turned from disbelief to gob-smacking horror. I tried to sound as commanding as possible and ignored the whispering that suddenly spread throughout the house.

‘Graham!’ I shouted. ‘Sharks!’ came the immediate reply. I let out a great sigh of relief – there would be no embarrassing mutiny or loud mocking. Apart from Rambo, Boggo and Spike, I was accorded the respect of a prefect. My hands were still shaking when I set off for class, but inside the adrenaline was pumping and I walked with long comfortable strides across the quad knowing my that my every movement was being observed.

I saw Pike lurking around outside Viking’s office just before lunch. He couldn’t see me because I was well hidden behind a pillar. Even still, I crouched low and kept incredibly still.

I lost my appetite and skipped lunch altogether.

20:00 There’s a rumour buzzing around the house that I’m the next head of house! Everybody seemed to think that my taking roll call this morning was a sure sign. Boggo says if the rumour turns out to be true, then he’s definitely leaving the school. He went on to accuse me of buying Whiteside’s backing by means of sexual favours.

I informed Boggo and the others that I didn’t give a damn about being a prefect, and all I was concentrating on was tomorrow’s exams. He sneered back at me and called me a liar.