Looking for Alibrandi (14 page)

Twenty

ON THE 29TH
of July, we celebrated St. Martha’s day by having our annual walkathon. It’s one of those events I hate with intensity.

The excitement of seeing the nuns in Reeboks left me in Year Eight and the only thing we enjoy about it these days is being able to wear what we like.

I did the usual rounds with my family on Sunday and managed to collect one hundred dollars for Amnesty International, then on Monday morning we sat in the auditorium listening to Sister Louise give out the same instructions, crack the same jokes and make the same threats as she did the year before.

I think it was the effect of trying to organize five hundred students that allowed me to be hijacked by Sera with only a whimper.

“Trey Hancock is in Sydney,” she said as the last students set off. “He’s staying at the Sebel Town House.”

Trey Hancock is the lead singer of a band called The Hypnotists. He’s from the States and is the most gorgeous guy in the world.

“Why is she telling us this?” I asked Lee.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Josie. Do you want to spend the rest of the day looking after those idiots?”

“Where did you hear that Trey Hancock was in Sydney?” Anna asked.

“Molly Meldrum hinted it in
TV Week
and my cousin works at the Sebel and said she saw him.”

“And the word was made scripture,” I said sarcastically.

“Well, I’m going,” Sera said, pulling up her black tights in the middle of the road.

“Sister will chuck.”

“Sister, Sister, Sister,” she mimicked. “God, Josie, live dangerously. You’d think she appointed you God or something.”

Lee shrugged and looked down the road where the others were disappearing.

“I suppose it’d be better than being the tail end of a walkathon,” she said.

“I know it would be better, Lee, but I can’t. I have to supervise.”

“Who’s going to be checking up on you, Jose?” Anna said. “Could you imagine if we saw Trey Hancock? Could you imagine if we spoke to him?”

“I’ve got a camera,” Sera said, taking it out. “Could you imagine if we got a photo of him?”

“Who’s going to guide those who get lost or are too slow?” I continued to argue. “I have to stay behind all the students.”

“Oh, great job, Jose. You should be proud of it,” Sera said sarcastically. “That means this walkathon will take us about two hours more than everyone else.”

“It is a bit of a shit job, Josie,” Anna said. “Ivy’s leading it.”

A bus came toward us and before I knew what was happening, the four of us jumped on it, giggling all the way to the back.

“If I see him, I’m going to jump all over him,” Sera said, taking out her makeup bag.

“
Duck,
” Lee said, pulling me down. Still laughing hysterically we crouched on the floor of the bus, allowing Lee to peek out and tell us when the coast was clear.

The bus came to a stop and we looked at each other with dread, but still laughing.

“It’s a crossing and half the school is crossing it,” Lee whispered, bursting into laughter.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” Anna said, closing her eyes and trying to squeeze under the seat.

We sighed with relief when the bus took off again and sat back to enjoy the ride.

I’m not quite sure where we supposed we’d see Trey Hancock. Maybe in the lobby, where he would introduce himself to us and take us to his room to discuss world peace.

We arrived at the Sebel Town House and not wanting to be seen, we took advantage of an open elevator, rushing into it and hitting any button so the doors would close.

The Sebel Town House accommodates a lot of movie and rock stars, so a group of teenagers walking around the place makes the hotel staff suspicious. We spent half an hour walking up and down corridors, and I figured that if Sera’s cousin worked there, she could at least have given us some hint as to where they were.

“C’est la vie,” Sera said on our way down in the lift, dancing around. She was teaching Anna to vogue, a way of dancing with your hands that Madonna had made famous.

I began to feel uneasy then. What if there was a roll call at one of the stops? What if the police were looking for four missing girls? What if my mother received a call from the school saying I was missing?

“How about we hang out in the bar? There’s always supposed to be someone famous in this hotel bar,” Sera said, taking out her camera.

“Sera, in our jeans and parkas we do not look over eighteen.”

“It’s worth a try. Live dangerous, Jose.”

Anna grinned and Lee punched me playfully on the arm.

“It’s better than being at a stupid walkathon,” she said.

I agreed. It was better than being the tail end of a walkathon. Did anyone appreciate that I had to lag behind because some people were slow? No. Then I didn’t care either. When the doors opened, we were blinded by lights and photographers. There were news cameras and people all over the place.

“Maybe they’re here after all,” Anna said, excited.

I looked across the lobby and shook my head, trying to hide from the cameras.

“The Premier is here, dickheads. I suppose you think he’s here to give Trey Hancock the key to the city?”

“Must be a press conference for something or other,” Lee said. “We might see someone famous after all.”

Anna was smiling at the excitement around her and I wanted to slap her face.

“Guys, let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s get the Trey Hancock rock video and go back to my place. We’ll order pizza,” Lee said.

The feeling of dread didn’t leave me. No matter how much I told myself that there was no problem with what I had done and that nobody would find out, I couldn’t enjoy the video. The others seemed to be relaxed and enjoying it all, but no matter how much pizza and how many Cheetos I consumed, I couldn’t begin to relax.

I always wondered what I’d look like on television. My curiosity was sated that night. While the Premier shook hands with a delegate from China, the four of us became two-minute megastars. Sera was seen voguing around the lobby, and Anna—dumb, stupid Anna—even waved at the camera while the Premier gave his speech.

I prayed that nobody else would see us. I dedicated a whole decade of the rosary that the divine intervention of the Virgin Mary would break the television at the convent and in the home of every teacher.

But sure enough, while we were sitting in homeroom on Tuesday morning, four names were called out, and I don’t think I have to tell you whose names they were. Sister handed us back our sponsor sheets with such anger that I felt each sheet fan my face with the force of an air conditioner.

She looked cold and mean and I wanted to remind her that she was a Christian, but I’ve learned from the past that you don’t try to teach Christianity to nuns and priests, as they seem to think they have the market cornered.

“I want you to return any money you have collected and I want the signature of every person who sponsored you on this sheet after you explain to them what you did yesterday.”

“But, Sister, it’s all for Amnesty International.”

“How dare you!” she snapped. “Those students trusted you. I trusted you. Here I am thinking that all the girls are on a walkathon. We promise your parents that we’ll look after you and they trust us. Yet there you are on television, with Sera making vulgar thrusting movements and God knows what with her hands around her face.”

“I was voguing, Sister.”

Sister Louise looked at us all with such disgust that I felt sick to the stomach. I think at that moment I would rather have been dead than disgusting.

“You’ll come here every afternoon until four-thirty. I’ll have notes prepared for your parents. You will also be banned from any further school excursions for the rest of the term. You’re all a disgrace. Get back to class.”

We looked at each other and turned to leave, but my disgrace had not yet stopped.

“Stay, Josephine.”

Lee pinched me as she walked out and I caught Anna’s look of sympathy. When Sister wasn’t looking, Sera vogued out of the room, and as serious as it all was, I wanted to laugh. We were alone for about three minutes before she looked up.

“Why do you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, Sister.”

“You are not sorry, so don’t insult my intelligence. Don’t say things to me because you know they are what I want to hear.”

“I don’t know what came over me, Sister. I know it was wrong.”

“I said not to insult my intelligence,” she gritted.

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped. I figured anything that came out of my mouth would insult her intelligence.

“I know what came over you. You decided to become a sheep for the day, Josephine. You weren’t a leader. You were a follower. You’ll never amount to anything if you can be so easily influenced.”

“I wasn’t a sheep, Sister,” I said angrily.

“It was Sera’s idea, wasn’t it?”

She looked at me with such contempt that I wondered if anybody in this world would ever intimidate me as much as this woman did.

“No,” I lied.

“You are a prefect. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes.”

“What does it mean? Let me guess. It means you wear a badge and you feel important, right?”

“No,” I said, irritated. “It means I . . . I have responsibilities.”

“To whom?”

I looked down and then back to her.

“To the students.”

“Oh, you’re responsible for the students, are you? Like yesterday? How responsible were you yesterday, Josephine? I want you to tell me how responsible you were. There were twelve-year-old girls in that last lot, Josephine. Darlinghurst is a dangerous area. You were there to make sure nothing could happen to them. You were responsible.”

I swallowed and shrugged.

“I wasn’t responsible yesterday.”

“Do you know what responsibility is, Josephine? If you don’t, try following Ivy Lloyd around one day. That is responsibility.”

My blood boiled at the mention of Ivy’s name.

“I’m just as responsible as Ivy, Sister. Yesterday was a one-off.”

“Ivy doesn’t have ‘one-offs.’ She’s responsible from the moment she walks into this school till the moment she walks out.”

Good for Ivy, I wanted to say.

“I made a decision late last year which I’ve regretted during this year, Josie, but now I know it was the right one,” she said. “You were voted school captain, but I gave the job to Ivy because I knew she’d do a better job.”

“What?” I shouted. “Why?”

“Need you ask me that after yesterday?”

“I wouldn’t have done what I did yesterday if I was school captain,” I said.

“Yes you would, Josephine, and that’s what I was afraid of. You and your friends are trendsetters. The girls look up to you. They copy what you do. They’ll probably slap you on the back to congratulate you when you get back into class. I couldn’t afford to have my school captain set such a bad example.”

“You’re wrong. We’re not trendsetters and they don’t look up to us. They think they’re superior to us.”

“Believe that, if that’s what you want to believe, but I can’t have you being a leader, Josie. I’m thinking seriously of choosing another vice captain.”

“You can’t do that,” I said, standing up. “It’s the only thing I have going for me in this school.”

I was embarrassed because I was crying, but I didn’t realize until then how much it meant to me to be a prefect.

“Things would have been so different for me if I was school captain,” I told her. “I would have felt different. What did I do for you to take that away from me?”

“A lot, Josephine. There was that time you walked like an Egyptian up to communion in front of the bishop.”

A Sera dare.

“And the time you stood up at the Catholic Association’s seminar and said the church stank with its rules on the IVF issue.”

“I said it sucked.”

“Yes, and you said it in front of the bishop.”

“I have the right to an opinion.”

“Yes, you do, but you’re not the first person who ever had one, Josephine. You seem to think you are. You have to learn that sometimes you have to keep your mouth shut, because what you do reflects on this school and on me and others. They don’t make you principal of a school because you’re middle-aged and wear a habit. You have to stop believing that your actions are always right, and you have to remember that you aren’t a leader because you’re given a title. You’re a leader because of what is inside of you. Because of how you feel about yourself. Having a badge saying you’re school captain shouldn’t have stopped you from doing what you did yesterday. You should be able to do that on your own. Now go back to class and think about that.”

I walked out, crying all the way down the corridor, and it wasn’t until I got to the end that I stopped.

Trendsetters. Examples. School captain. Leaders. The words kept on running through my head and I began to see that maybe Sister wasn’t lying.

Everyone loved Anna and everyone wanted to be Lee’s friend, and although Sera got on everyone’s nerves, she still managed to make people do the most incredible things and nobody ever called her a wog because she didn’t give a damn.

And me? I was voted school captain. Socially we weren’t as shitty as we thought we were. So I turned around and walked back into her room without knocking.

“I’m really sorry, Sister. Don’t call me a liar because I do mean it.”

She looked up, no forgiveness evident in her eyes. “I’m not here to make you feel good, Josie.”

“You’re supposed to forgive me. You’re a nun.”

“Priests have the authority to forgive, Josephine. Nuns don’t.”

“So I go around with this sin on my soul for the rest of my life?”

“No, only until I think you mean it. Until I can trust you again. You have great potential, Josephine, but so do many others. It’s up to you to use that potential.”

“I’m not a sheep,” I whispered.

“You were yesterday, Josephine.”

When I walked back into the classroom I did get pats on the back.

“Better than going on the dumb walkathon,” everyone said.

“What I did was wrong,” I told them quietly.

“What’s the big deal?” someone asked. “Don’t let her make you feel guilty.”