Crown Park (2 page)

Soon he had a dozen or so
cameras and was snapping photos of groups big and small. All he had
to do was aim and push a button. It really was money for
nothing.

Except this time there was no
money. Usually some of the tourists would give him some coins.
Every other time he’d made at least five bucks. This time,
nothing.

As the bus pulled out he waved
his fist and yelled at them — the bus continued on its way. He
turned and looked at Fluoro Fred who was still sitting and
mumbling. Jack moved closer to the man, wondering if he’d got
anything. He had. In the bottom of the begging bowl was a heap of
gold coins, along with a single twenty-dollar note.

Jack felt the pressure of anger
forming in his head. Why should Fluoro Fred get money when all he
did was mumble? It wasn’t right. Then Jack realized he could easily
even things up. He bent over and grabbed the note. As he
straightened he sensed that the man had lifted his head and was
looking at him.

Jack turned and walked away,
forcing himself not to look back. One of the kids at school had
said that if you looked Fluoro in the eyes, you’d end up mad
yourself. Jack didn’t really believe that, but why take the risk?
Some part of it might be true.

Jack went to the takeaway shop down the
road from Crown Park. He ordered his usual of one fish and a carton
of chips.

“Your mum gave you plenty of
money today,” said Melissa, lifting the twenty dollars off the
counter. “Is it your birthday or something?”

“Nah!” replied Jack. “She didn’t
have anything smaller.”

Melissa nodded and sorted out
his change.

While the food was being cooked,
Jack paced around anxious to find Chainsaw. After a while, he
looked out the door to see if he’d arrived yet. There were people
talking outside the dairy, but nothing happening outside the
takeaway shop.

There was still nothing when his
order was ready.

“You doing anything for the long
weekend?” asked Melissa, handing over the packet.

“Nah! Just hanging around home,”
said Jack. He moved towards the door.

Melissa watched him and smiled.
“I think you’ll find Chainsaw out the back,” she called. But Jack
was already gone.

* * *

Melissa was wrong. Chainsaw wasn’t out
the back, which meant Jack would have to wait.

He sat on the concrete with his
bag as a cushion supporting his back against a concrete wall. The
chips were on one side of his legs, the piece of fish on the other.
He pulled the batter off the fish so that it would cool
quicker.

Munching on the batter and the
chips, he settled down to wait.

He’d first met Chainsaw at the
end of his second week at school. He’d been feeling really low. He
hadn’t made any friends, and Liam Bennett had started teasing him
about being so small. Lunchtimes were the worst. Liam wouldn’t let
him play in his game of touch, so Jack had to play with the little
kids. This led to more teasing.

Then he had met Chainsaw. He’d
bought a hamburger and was sitting out the front on a wooden bench
when this huge tabby cat hopped up and began rubbing against his
thigh. Jack stroked it and gave it some of the meat filling. That
was when he heard the cat’s deep, rumbling purr for the first time.
It sounded just like an idling chainsaw, so that’s what Jack called
him — Chainsaw.

This day Jack had almost
finished the chips before Chainsaw arrived and rubbed against his
side. Jack broke off a piece of fish and held it out.

Piece by piece the fish went
until nothing was left but the smell. Chainsaw then climbed onto
Jack’s lap. After turning around a couple of times, he settled into
place. That’s when the purring and kneading started. First Chainsaw
would stick one set of claws into Jack’s thigh, and then the other.
It hurt, and sometimes drew blood, but Jack never tried to stop
it.

Chainsaw was not a beautiful
cat. At one time he might have been, but now several parts of his
body were well worn. One ear was almost missing, his nose looked as
if it had been bashed by a hammer, and his tail had a kink near the
tip. Jack didn’t mind the flaws. They just made Chainsaw more
special.

As the cat quietened and went to
sleep, Jack also began to dose off, thinking about cats and how
nice they were. He’d never owned a cat, but at home they had a
picture book called
Magic Thinks Big
. The story was about a
cat that went places in its mind. The journeys were more than
dreaming: the cat felt as if he was actually in a different place.
Jack thought it would be great to do things like that. Whenever you
got fed up, you could go off to some magical place and do things
that nobody else —

“Jack! You shouldn’t still be
here.”

It was Melissa.

Jack came to with a start.
Chainsaw had gone and the sun had set.

“What time is it?” he asked

“Six fifteen.”

“Oh!” he said, climbing to his
feet.

Without any goodbyes to Melissa
he started running. If his mother or father arrived home and found
him missing, there’d be trouble. Especially if they’d read the
message the principal had left on their cell phones.

Jack need not have worried. Neither
parent was home, although his mother obviously had been for she’d
left a note on the table.

Working late. Meet me
outside the supermarket at 6.30 and we’ll have dinner together —
Anna

Jack looked at the clock on the
stove — six twenty-five. If he took his bike he might make it on
time.

It was two and a half kilometres
from the Stewart house to the supermarket in town. Jack did it in
seven minutes. He skidded to a halt just as his mother came out of
the worker’s side door.

“Perfect timing,” said Anna with
a grin, squeezing her son’s arm. “Now, how about chicken for
dinner? I’ve got to be back here by seven.”

That was OK by Jack. They always
had chicken on Friday night when Anna was working, and always in
the same place.

After the food arrived they ate
in silence. In between bites, Jack studied his mother, trying to
work out if she’d got the principal’s message or not. It was hard
to tell. Any emotion was masked by tiredness.

“Why are you staring at me?” she
asked.

Jack gave a little shrug.

“Are you trying to work out if I
got that message from the school?”

He lowered his eyes.

Anna reached out and took his
hand. “What’s the problem, Jack? The principal says you’re always
in trouble.”

Jack pulled his hand away. “It’s
not me. It’s that stupid school.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything!”

His mother sighed. “A new school
is always going to be difficult at first. Give it time. It’ll
change.”

Jack looked up at her. “No, it
won’t. Miss Finch isn’t going to stop picking on me, and Liam
Bennett isn’t going to go away.”

“Teachers don’t pick on kids for
no reason,” said Anna.

“This one does. She mumbles all
the time and when I don’t understand, she starts yelling at
me.”

Anna gave another tired sigh.
“What about the boy you mentioned — what was his name?”

“Liam Bennett. He’s a big, dumb
moron. He’s always trying to get me into trouble and he won’t let
me join in any of the games.”

“Well,” said Anna, “at least we
can do something about that. If he’s a bully then the school has to
sort it out.”

“No, they won’t. The teachers
are scared of him.”

They returned to eating.

After a while Jack asked, “Is
Dad coming home tonight?”

Anna shook her head. “Dave’s
working all weekend. So am I. We’ll get double pay because Monday’s
Anzac Day.” She said it as if the money would make up for their
absence.

It wouldn’t, but he didn’t say
anything. He was used to doing things by himself.

Soon afterwards they left. Anna
went back to the supermarket where she’d work until nine, and Jack
went home. This time he rode slowly, thinking about what Anna had
said about getting double pay.

Money! That was the only thing
that seemed to interest either parent these days. It was the reason
they had shifted from Wellington to Taupo. His father had good work
driving logs to the port at Napier, but he wanted to buy his own
truck so he could do contracts. They paid heaps more than wages.
That’s why he and Anna were working such long hours. Jack knew he
should be thankful because they were doing it for his future as
well as theirs. But at times like this he wished that things could
be different.

When he got home, he went
looking for the book
Magic Thinks Big.
He found it in a box
labelled “Jack’s books”. The box was still taped shut. Nobody had
read to him since arriving in Taupo.

He pulled out the book and
climbed into bed. If his parents weren’t here, then he would read
to himself, even though it was a little kid’s picture book.

It took him some time because he
wasn’t a great reader, but when he had finished he felt better. He
turned out the light thinking of Magic’s adventurous world instead
of the problems in his own. As he dozed off, he wondered if cats
really did have dreams where they did wonderful things. Did
Chainsaw ever dream like Magic? Jack hoped so, because then someday
they might share a dream together.

Saturday morning Jack watched cartoons
on television. When they finished there was nothing to do at home
so he decided to go and find Chainsaw.

That was a mistake. He’d only
gone a block when he met up with Liam Bennett swaggering along the
footpath. Alongside him was a bigger boy with the same thick body
and sneering smile.

“Jack Spewit,” Liam cried. “Who
let you out?”

Jack tried to walk away.

“Hold it, Spewit,” said Liam,
grabbing Jack’s arm. “Don’t be rude. I want you to meet my brother
Brian.”

“So this is the Spewit,” said
Brian. “The one that plays with the little kids.” He nudged Liam.
“I can see why you don’t let the little vomit play with you.”

“You should come and watch us
play footy,” said Liam.

“Yeah!” added Brian. “We could
use you as the ball.” Both brothers seemed to find this
hilarious.

Again Jack went to move away.
This time they let him, but not before they’d yelled more insults
at him. Jack walked with his head down. A bad morning had just
become worse.

It didn’t get any better when he
got to the takeaway shop. The place was closed and Chainsaw wasn’t
there. Jack decided to wait. There was nothing else to do.

He sat with his back against the
corner of a fence, hidden in the shadows behind some bushes. His
mind was full of ugly thoughts. They started with the Bennett
brothers, but moved on to his parents and later to himself.

Eventually, the sun climbed high
enough in the sky to shine into his corner. Its warmth put him to
sleep and for a while the ugly thoughts disappeared.

When he woke, Chainsaw was
crouched beside him, kneading away at his leg. Jack put his hand on
the cat’s back and once again the sound of a chainsaw filled the
little backyard.

They stayed like that for maybe
an hour. Neither seemed to want to break the spell. Jack certainly
didn’t. The only peace he felt these days was when he was with
Chainsaw. He wasn’t going to give that up easily. If only he could
find a way to be with him always.

He’d already tried to take
Chainsaw home. One afternoon, he’d picked him up and headed off
down the road. But he’d only gone a short distance before the cat
went crazy, scratching his arms to get down. Jack didn’t see him
for three days after that.

Jack now understood that if the
two of them were to be together then it would have to be on
Chainsaw’s terms. The cat would always do his own things. As if to
prove this, he got up, crawled out of the bushes and strolled off
along the driveway to the road. Jack followed him with his eyes,
disappointed that the magic had been broken.

When Chainsaw got alongside the
front of the shop, he stopped, looked back and meowed. Jack
brightened. It was a clear invitation: “You can come with me if you
like.”

It took Jack only seconds to
make a decision. He crawled out of the bushes in time to see
Chainsaw move out of sight along the footpath.

By the time Jack reached the
front, Chainsaw was crossing the road, walking slowly, as if he had
all the rights. A car screeched to a stop, its wheels centimetres
from running him down. Jack gasped, but Chainsaw continued as if
nothing had happened. Jack waited until the car had gone before
crossing and following at a distance.

After a while Chainsaw moved
from the road into a bushy gully at the back of Crown Park. Jack
went faster, worried that he might lose sight of him. He need not
have been. Chainsaw was waiting for him on the path that went along
the bottom of the gully. He moved on as soon as Jack appeared.

They followed the path that led
deeper into the park. Although Chainsaw was out of view at times,
he was always waiting around the next bend. Only when Jack caught
up, would he start moving again. Chainsaw was taking him to his
home.

Jack tagged along, making up
stories about what Chainsaw’s mum might have to say when they got
there.

“What’s that you’ve brought
home, Chainsaw?” he imagined her saying.

“It’s a human, Mum. He’s so cute
and he doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“Oh, yeah! He seems well looked
after to me. What are you going to feed him on? We hardly have
enough for ourselves.”

“I’ll go out and catch more.
There’re plenty of rats down at the dump.”

“Humph,” would go the mother
cat. “I don’t see any humans eating rats. More like hamburgers and
chips. He’ll be real expensive to feed.”