Friday 8th November

SPEECH DAY & LONG WEEKEND

Being imprisoned like criminals for the long weekend meant that Speech Day had no light at the end of the tunnel. My heart sank when I saw Mom leading Wombat by the hand up Warrior’s Walk. Dad lagged behind and seemed to be furiously rubbing his right shoe against the trunk of a plane tree. I greeted them at the school entrance and asked Mom why she and Wombat were wearing hats. Mom said they were wearing hats because they were embarrassed because their son was an alkie.

She then ordered me to show Wombat to the ladies’ room.

Unfortunately the ladies’ room is on the other side of the quad so I had to make the deadly crossing in full view of the house. Wombat moved her handbag onto her other arm and eyed me shiftily. She then asked me how long I had been a criminal. I didn’t want to make a scene so I told her I’d recently taken it up. Suddenly there was a loud bark from a window above, followed by a shout of, ‘Hey, Milton! Nice babe, but I thought you were gay?’ Wombat darted into the loo and locked the door behind her as if I was going to attack her. She then took ages which meant I had to greet hundreds of parents as they filed past on the way to the amphitheatre.

When Wombat eventually reappeared she accused me of hanging around the ladies’ toilet and of being a pervert. I led Wombat back across the quad towards Mom and Dad. There was a loud growl from above and then a shout of, ‘Give her one for me!’ Other parents had stopped in the quad and were looking around in confusion for the loud booming voice.

Dad obviously didn’t get all the dog poo off his shoe because a nasty smell lingered around us for the long three hours of Speech Day. The people closest to Dad’s feet had to move after twenty minutes. Dad didn’t seem to notice that he was responsible for a large gap that had suddenly opened up around him and merrily cheered along as each prize winner was announced.

This year’s speaker was even more boring than last year’s. And that’s quite an achievement considering Lance Ranger’s granny passed out from boredom during last year’s speech. The Guv was wearing his dark shades and showed very few signs of being awake during the three hours of torture.

I received the English and History prizes. I was also given a certificate for academic merit. Vern was awarded the Van Vuuren trophy for commitment to the school. For once Vern didn’t do anything deranged, although it did take him quite a long time to find his seat again. (His mother ended up waving him to it like an airport signaller.)

Next Year’s headboy is first team lock Rich Beamon (nickname Fuse) from Barnes House. The parents applauded loudly as he received his blazer and badge from Luthuli. Nobody seemed overly concerned that just two years ago Fuse was suspended after he attached a first year to a piece of rope and then dragged the poor slave around Trafalgar with one of the school tractors.

Perhaps there’s hope for me yet.

Dad put his arm around me during lunch in the quad and told me that he was still proud of me. I thanked him and told him he had dog turd on his shoe. Dad disappeared into the crowd and then returned within a minute. He showed off a clean shoe and the bottom of his right pant leg which was soaked.

Let’s hope Pissing Pete was the only one to see my father washing off dog turd in the school fountain.

Mom and Wombat both started crying when it was time to go, although I think this wasn’t because they were sorry to be leaving me but because Mr Hall had announced that the bar was closed.

The Crazy Eight watched all the other boys driving off with their parents for the long weekend. Pike said goodbye to us repeatedly and howled with laughter every time he said it.

Worse news is that Anderson and Death Breath are staying behind to study for exams. Our head of house has made it clear that if we so much as leave the house after 5pm every day we’ll be expelled.

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 636