Wednesday 27th March

14:15 I HAVE THREE BALL HAIRS!!!

(In truth only one is a ball hair proper, the other two are further north.)

I sprinted up the stairs and told the dormitory I was no longer a spud. They all rushed into my cubicle and Simon brought his toy magnifying glass. (It was quite funny the first time.) After a thorough inspection Rambo announced that I was still a spud. I tried to argue but then Boggo cleared his throat and said we might be ‘splitting hairs here’. Everyone roared with laughter and suddenly Vern grabbed hold of my willy. There was instant silence. Everybody was watching Vern sniggering like a cretin and holding my willy between his thumb and forefinger. I was too shocked to move so I joined everyone else in staring at Vern.

Vern’s sniggering died away and his moronic face reddened. He let go of my willy and his hand shot up to his head and ripped out a knot of hair. He looked at us like a maniac, said, ‘Spud’ and then ran out the dormitory. Roger didn’t follow.

Rambo called a meeting on the spot. He reckoned that Vern is getting worse and should be in a mental institution and then everybody got all excited and aggressive and the meeting dissolved into a pillow fight. I slipped out of the dormitory and headed towards the bogs to check on developments.

Thursday 28th March

Had a chat to The Guv after assembly. He said he’s going to see his brother in England over the holidays. He wished me luck for the choir tour, shouted something in Latin and sent me on my way.

Practised my solo on Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring. Julian called it ‘a triumph’. I didn’t tell him about my ball hairs. He’s so stressed out he may well have had a breakdown.

Bags are packed. I can’t wait to finish the choir tour and get home to my own bed for the holidays.

Friday 29th March

10:00 After saying goodbye to the Crazy Eight I boarded the choir bus to Johannesburg. On the back of the bus somebody had written FAGS ON TOUR with shaving cream. Julian ordered me to sit with him at the back and he draped me in a blanket to keep out the autumn chill. Actually it was sweltering hot on the bus but I didn’t dare argue.

The entire choir struck up the school hymn as we passed through the school gates. We turned the bend onto the main road and I stopped singing. Parked on the shoulder of the road under a tree was a lime green station wagon with darkened windows. Through the windscreen I could just see a great shock of purple hair. I felt the blood rushing to my face as the school hymn continued around me.

I can’t believe Mom and Wombat are following the choir bus. Even worse, Mom seems hell bent on following as close behind the bus as humanly possible without actually touching it.

I asked Julian if I could sit at the front but he refused. I sank low into my seat and prayed nobody would notice them.

But being my life, it didn’t take long for word to spread around the bus that two old ladies were stalking us. Ntoko (a third year who sings a mean baritone) waved at the station wagon. Mom waved back nervously and Wombat picked up her handbag and hid it behind the back seat. Wombat then pointed at Ntoko and said something to Mom who thankfully dropped back to a more reasonable following distance.

We’re staying in a community centre in Parktown in Johannesburg.

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 590