Into the River (22 page)

“I may get a mass walk-out.”

“Then we’ll fill their parts with girls.”

“The script calls for adults.”

“Rewrite the script man, it’s not Shakespeare.”

That seemed to be the end of it. Against Willie’s wishes, Devon and Steph had secured the roles of Dr Funkenstein and his monster.

The immediate impact of this decision was, as Willie had predicted, a mass walk-out by the senior boys, leaving no boy in the cast older than fifteen. New aspirants were found. Girls were drafted in. The script was changed. Everything seemed to be building around the new leads.

For Devon and Steph, the next few weeks’ school work — in fact all aspects of school life — seemed to shrink to insignificance, as their energy was soaked up by the production. Almost immediately they discovered that they had inherited a sort of star status, but this was mostly amongst the SLAGS girls. Their pre-eminence allowed them to exploit the house rules. There were so many special exemptions for rehearsals and other matters that in the end Mr Simmonds gave them carte blanche and they were able to come and go as they pleased. Most evenings now were spent at the rehearsals even though their own actual rehearsal time was relatively brief. When they weren’t needed they would play cards in the green room, waiting for DD’s little bell to ring to summon the next group up on stage.

Steph was in demand from all quarters. Willie would take him to one side at every opportunity to work through his solos. Briggs would insist on Steph helping him with his rehearsals. DD used him to demonstrate moves for the more clueless in the cast. It seemed to be the world he was born for. At the end of the evening there was a small core of cast and crew who would repair to the green room for coffee and progress updates. Even at these, Steph’s opinion was sought and in many ways he was treated as an equal by the adults.

It was about this time that Devon noticed Briggs begin to change. His willingness and generosity seemed to come at a price.
That price was exclusive rights to Steph’s attention. When Willie called on Steph, Briggs watched them closely, no matter what else he was doing. Later there were petulant recriminations.

“What did he want this time?” Or perhaps, “Why did you let him put his hand on your shoulder?”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you did.”

But usually it was the plea for equal sharing.

“You promised you’d spend time with me this afternoon.”

“I planned to but it didn’t work out …”

“I’ve heard that before …”

What used to be a situation that Steph manipulated for his amusement now became one-sided pestering. Steph tried to placate Briggs with excuses like, “It was part of my schedule,” or throwaway comments like, “Pressures of stardom, Briggs.” Then it heated up to, “You were watching us? My God, what’s happened to you? You’re obsessed.”

When this had no effect, Steph began to actively dislike him.

“Jesus, Devon, here comes Zitface, how am I going to get rid of him?”

Two weeks out from the opening night, a drama camp was organised at the school’s lodge on Motutapu Island in the Hauraki Gulf. This was normally used by the PE department for leadership training but it had a large common room which they would use for rehearsals.

On Friday morning a specially chartered ferry waited for them at the city wharf. Willie went and sat up in the bow of the boat taking the opportunity to smoke incessantly and otherwise abandon the normal “duties of office”.

Everyone was wearing mufti and Devon was amazed at how the girls had transformed themselves. Vanessa and Sina waved them over. They wore the standard low cut jeans and tight tops, but added to this was the jewellery and make-up. With the new
look came a heightened gregariousness. They teased Devon about his battered HDT jacket. Boguns were open season for theatrical types. Steph’s striped blazer was more enigmatic.

“It’s the blazer of Dorian Gray. I am actually one hundred and thirty-seven years old.”

A fresh breeze sprung up once they cleared the harbour and the stocky little craft began to dip and pitch in the chop of open water. Vanessa squealed and snuggled in next to Devon. He slipped his arm along the back of the seat, careful not to touch her exposed skin. As the city grew smaller, his thoughts went back to Tania. The rules of engagement were so different here. Back in Wiremu’s bathroom a decision had been made and what followed was as irreversible as plunging off a rock into a deep pool. What was happening here was not unlike the opening moves of a chess game. Pawn to knight four. Your move.

It wasn’t long before Briggs appeared and heaved himself onto an adjacent bench. As the other four chatted away he tried to join in but his comments were lame and poorly judged. There was something forced about him, a change in his demeanour that made him seem almost fierce now. After a while he gave up speaking and followed their remarks with a fixed, humourless grin.

By the time they cleared the rugged perimeter of Rangitoto, the quiet bay on Motutapu came into view. It looked vaguely familiar because of camp photos which were always part of the school magazine. There was a large central block which housed the kitchen and games room and two radiating wings which became the girls’ and the boys’ wings. Behind it were tall macrocarpa trees and the ropes and ladders of the confidence course. The little bay was such a tranquil contrast with their bumpy passage that everyone stood up and moved to the front as the ferry glided into the wharf.

No one was allowed into the dorm area until everything had been carried up from the ferry to the cook house. Here it was sorted into food, musical/dramatic materials, and personal belongings.
Everyone sat around the long tables waiting for Willie and DD to give some instruction. When they re-entered, after a lengthy debrief on the deck, it was obvious who was in charge.

“Now that we’ve arrived, without incident,” DD began, “it’s time to spell out a few local rules …”

Willie sat with the boys, grinning while DD, rising to the new role of Camp Commandant, gave a lengthy oration about her expectations for the weekend.

“She’s channelling Demi Moore from
G.I. Jane
,” Steph muttered to Devon after one particularly stagey turn of phrase.

In essence the message was: no sex, no drugs, work hard, no bitchin’, no swimming without supervision, everyone pitches in, no sex, no practical jokes, no drugs, no telling tales out of school, no nocturnal high jinks and of course no sex.

For the first time it dawned on Devon that sex was a real possibility this weekend.

There were six rooms in each wing, each containing four bunk beds. Willie chose the one nearest to the common room; Devon and Steph took the one at the far end looking out to sea. They had no sooner dumped their stuff on the beds than Briggs appeared in the doorway.

“So that’s where you’re going. I’ll take this one.”

“I thought you would go in with Matt Rogers or Willie maybe.” Steph’s tone seemed imploring.

“Yeah? No way. I see enough of Matt at school and Willie … I wouldn’t share a bus with him.”

Steph looked at Devon and rolled his eyes. There was nothing to be done now but endure it.

Before long a bugle sounded and everyone headed back to the big room. Willie was holding a battered old trumpet he seemed to have brought specifically for camp. DD had a plan for the day that accounted for most of their time until ten-thirty that night. They were put into teams for most activities and Devon was pleased to note that Briggs was not in any of their groups, other than in a
supervisory role in the kitchen.

After this, Willie assembled his keyboard and was soon absorbed, rehearsing the musical numbers. DD took the remainder of the students outside to the climbing frames where she had blocked out the shape of a stage for the rehearsal of set pieces. Devon, who was without Steph for most of the day’s activities, found himself pairing off with Vanessa. After the first hour their awkwardness had gone and he felt easy in her company. He had not realised how demanding Steph had become. Vanessa was altogether lighter, less complicated company. By the afternoon she was leaning on him, grabbing his arm as they went off to do things, and messing up his hair when he became vague or dreamy. She hadn’t arrived in his life like an express train, the way Tania had. This was altogether more gentle. He was gradually warming to her, like sun emerging from a cloud.

Vanessa was from Northland. Her parents had sent her to SLAGS because they were worried about the effect the local girls’ school would have on her.

“It’s all sex, drugs and hairdos … broken up with fights.”

She wanted to know more about Devon.

“Don’t you miss your grandfather?”

“What’s your sister into?”

“When are you going back home next?”

The questions tugged at him. He wasn’t ready for this. They stirred up feelings that he kept buried and he was unwilling to tell her any more than vague details. His family was a book that he did not want to open so he had invented a simple gloss that satisfied the inquiries of most people.

They had an hour or so before the evening activities and games began. Willie dropped by to see if anyone wanted to go for a swim. As soon as Briggs dismissed the idea as ridiculous, Steph agreed. The two of them made off before Briggs had a chance to change his mind. Devon lay on his bunk, aware of Briggs’s tormented presence below him. He tried to ignore it but it was impossible, so
he swung down and left the little room without a word.

Outside there was nobody to be seen. He could hear the buzz, and occasional squawk, of the others emanating from the bunk rooms. He climbed up onto the headland to see where Willie and Steph might be swimming but there was no sign of them. He knew what that meant and was glad he hadn’t gone with them. The next bay had been fenced off and an attempt made to replant the native forest. The tallest trees were just above head height and had already attracted the attention of a couple of noisy tuis. Out beyond the bay the sea was a sheet of beaten tin and tall grey clouds billowed above it in the darkening sky.

The hand lightly touching his shoulder produced an involuntary yelp. It was Vanessa.

“I saw you heading over the hill and thought I better follow you. Remember what DD said. ‘We must always have a buddy’.” She crouched beside him with a possibly ironic grin on her face.

“Hi, buddy,” he said, and leaned over, kissing her fleetingly on the mouth.

It was sudden and unexpected. They both pulled away briefly and then came together again. This time the kiss was long, hard and deliberate. She leaned across in front of him, placing one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder. He could smell her hair as it tickled his face and slowly lay back, drawing her onto him. They continued to kiss as he slipped his hand inside her blouse, feeling the smooth skin, the delicate undulations of her ribs, her bra straps, and then, because he encountered no resistance, the lacy bulk of her breasts.

Their mouths parted again, and still gasping, they stared into each other’s eyes. Nothing was said; there was nothing to say. When they kissed again, this time slowly, more carefully, he was able to fumble free the buttons of her blouse and she lifted herself clear to help his urgent caress. His cock, which had hardened at the first kiss, now felt her hand tighten around it. What had strained awkwardly in the folds of his jeans now straightened to her touch.
His mouth found her nipple as he felt her hand slip inside his zip. There were a few moments of exquisite pleasure before he came with a shuddering gasp inside his underpants. The ecstatic release immediately mutated into disappointment. The moment, the opportunity, had come and gone so quickly.

“I’ve come …”

“I know,” she replied. “Is that good?”

“Mmm, but I wanted … I wanted to do it.”

She looked almost sorry for him. “Boys must have fun, but girls must be careful.” Then she laughed.

“We’d better head back. Don’t want to be noticed.” She leaned over and kissed him on the tip of the nose and then stood up, refastening her blouse.

He lay there a moment, aware only of the soggy mess inside his pants, wondering if it showed through.

“Come on, Devon. I’ll go back first. You follow in a few minutes.”

By the time he cleared the hill she was already back in the bunk rooms. He stood on the ridge amongst the whispering trees and looked down at the camp which was melting in the gloom. Everything looked different now. He knew it was different. He could smell the sharp salty air wafting up from the rocks exposed by the low tide. Above him a slew of white stars showed through a break in the clouds. He had the feeling that the universe had paused momentarily in the midst of huge change and he was able to view it in detail, like the photograph of a breaking wave revealing the impossible geometry of every viscous curve.

Around the point at the end of the bay he saw two figures picked out against the dull silver of the sea. They were holding hands but stopped as they clambered over the last of the rocks. One of them laughed. It was Willie.

Devon stumbled down the hill. He felt his breath returning and gathered speed as he ran down across the confidence course. Willie had gone on up to the big room where DD was organising the
dinner team and Devon was able to startle Steph by grabbing him as he reached for the door.

“Jesus! Devon, you nearly gave me a heart attack sneaking around here like that.”

“I’ve been out looking for you.”

Steph turned. “Why? You knew where I was going. And what’s it got to do …” And then, sensing Devon’s disappointment, he touched his face and added, “Just payin’ ma dues,” his voice little more than a whisper.

“Oh, whatever,” Devon said. “I don’t care what you do, Steph, I just … I just couldn’t stand being in that little room with Briggs by myself.”

When they re-entered the bunk room, Briggs lay on the bed, eyes closed and iPod blasting in his ears.

Steph turned to Devon. “He’s a worry.” Then he smiled and added, “Might have to kill him soon.”

It was one of those throwaway comments Steph specialised in. A bit scary.

Briggs pulled an earphone from one ear. “What was that?”

“I was just saying you looked so relaxed.”

Soon the little bell that signalled dinner sounded. Steph gave Briggs a hard jolt on the side of the head and he sat up angrily, pulling the earplugs out.