Surfing Mr Petrovic Read online

  She shrugged her shoulders. That meant: yes, but there’s nothing I can do about it. ‘Anyway,’ she said in a soft voice, ‘it’s too late. I’ve got my own life now.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said.

  ‘Maybe you will when you’re older,’ she said, and then, maybe because she saw my expression, she added: ‘I can’t explain it. I’d like to, but I can’t.’

  There was a knock at the screen door and we both heard Dad walking up the passage. He was on time, for the first time ever. Just as well, because I could feel my eyes getting hot, like I was going to cry or something. Only kids my age don’t cry. Not if they want to play for the Dockers.

  Dad had a new car, a really bad two-door four-wheel drive painted bright red. There was air-conditioning and a CD player and a rack on the top for his surfboard. Which made Barry’s old VW Combi van look a bit sick. I had been hanging out for a drive in Dad’s new car all week, hoping one of my mates from school would see me in it.

  ‘Like it?’ Dad said.

  ‘It’s wicked.’

  Dad grinned. He didn’t look like most of the dads I knew, more like a retired surfing champion. He had long hair, with only a little bit of grey in it, and he always dressed in the coolest gear, like Mambo t-shirts. He worked in an advertising agency in the city and sometimes I saw the commercials he made on television. They were always the funny ones for chocolate milk and radio stations. If he ever did car yards he never told me about them.

  When he lived at home I never saw him much on school days, because he always worked late at nights, but on weekends he used to take me surfing every morning and in the afternoons he’d take me to Timezone or somewhere. He was like a big kid himself. He was great. The only thing I never forgave him for was calling me Tao. Tao Symonds. Luckily all the other kids never call me Tao. They call me Symo.

  I jumped in the car. It smelled new. I tried to concentrate on how cool I looked and tried not to think about my mum and dad never getting back together again. I’d never thought that it was going to be for ever. I had this cold, empty feeling inside.

  ‘How are things?’ he said, as we drove off.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You’re quiet.’

  ‘I’m all right.’ I went through the stack of CDs in the console and picked one out. ‘Show me how this works,’ I said.

  ‘You just push that button there,’ he said. ‘When the CD’s in the tray, you just push ‘play’ there. That one’s New Age. I thought you didn’t like New Age.’

  I put it on. A lot of chanting and people talking about trees. Dad was cool most of the time, but he had a weird side to him.

  ‘Surf report said there’d be some good right-handers down at Port Beach.’

  ‘Yeah. Sounds good.’

  He went right at the lights and turned on to South Terrace. ‘You sure you’re okay? Your eyes are all red.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said, and looked out of the window. I saw Bluey coming out of the deli. I was going to wave to make sure he saw me. But I didn’t. For some reason I couldn’t be bothered.

  My dad’s got a big Malibu board, like the ones in the old seventies movies, and he gets a lot of stares down at the beach. As usual he went right out past the breakers and I stayed closer in to shore. The surf was okay but I just wasn’t in the mood so after a while I came in and just lay on my towel and waited for him.

  About half an hour later I saw him paddling back to shore. As he came out of the water I saw a couple of girls – real babes – staring at him. Girls never looked at Barry like that when we went to the beach, unless they were pointing at his skinny white legs and giggling.

  But I still wasn’t sure I wanted girls staring at my dad like these two were.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he said.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You weren’t in the water very long. Is everything okay?’

  I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t know quite how to tell him what was wrong. He picked up his towel and started to dry himself. I saw him looking back at the girls and grinning. Then I thought about Mum and for the first time I could ever remember I got really angry at him.

  ‘When are you coming home?’ I said.

  He stopped towelling himself and picked up his board. ‘Let’s go back to the car.’

  ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘Well, it’s not an easy question to answer. What did your mum say?’

  ‘She said you weren’t.’

  ‘Well. She’s right about a lot of stuff.’

  ‘I don’t like things the way they are.’

  ‘Well, we can’t always have our lives just the way we want them.’

  That sounded like something Barry would say.

  ‘How about we go to McDonald’s for lunch?’ Dad said. ‘Afterwards we can go to the movies. There’s the new Schwarzenegger movie at the Octoplex.’

  ‘I don’t like Arnold Schwarzenegger,’ I lied.

  ‘How about Timezone?’

  ‘I don’t want to do anything,’ I said. ‘I think I just want to go home.’

  ‘Look, come on, Tao. We’ve got the whole day. Cheer up.’

  ‘I said I just want to go home.’

  He shook his head, like he was really angry. And then he did what he always does when someone hurts his feelings. He said, ‘Suit yourself then,’ and walked off.

  3

  The next day was Barry’s birthday. When I got up everyone was in the lounge. Barry was on the sofa and Mum and Connie and Michael were all sort of draped around him. Barry was opening his presents. Connie had bought him a t-shirt and wrapped up this strange clay sculpture she’d made at school. I thought it was a duck and she said it was an elephant.

  Michael had bought him a china mug that said: This is not baldness, this is a solar panel for a sex machine. Michael laughed along with everyone else but I don’t think he understood the joke. I don’t think he even bought the present. I think Mum must have helped him.

  Mum had got Barry a card which none of us were allowed to read and a big book about the history of the Olympics and a dressing gown and some after-shave.

  Then everybody looked at me.

  ‘Happy Birthday,’ I said and went back upstairs to my bedroom.

  Mum knocked on the bedroom door. I didn’t say, ‘Come in,’ but she did anyway. Then she sat down on the edge of my bed and gave me The Look.

  ‘You could have at least got him a card,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’

  Mum looked down at the bed-cover and started picking off pieces of lint. ‘I’m not asking you to treat him like your father. No one has ever asked you to do that. But you don’t have to be horrible to him.’

  ‘All this because I didn’t get him a birthday present?’

  ‘I’ve been reminding you all week.’

  ‘I remembered, but I forgot.’

  ‘He tries with you. He really does.’

  ‘I don’t have to like him,’ I said. ‘You can’t make me.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t make you. Tao, I’m sorry about the way things turned out. I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t plan things this way. I hoped you were old enough now to understand.’

  Mum was right. It wasn’t her fault. I knew I was being a real pain but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I was stuck.

  ‘Just remember it’s not Barry’s fault either,’ she said and went out.

  She was right about that, too. It wasn’t Barry’s fault. But I couldn’t help wondering if Barry being around just didn’t make it that much harder for my dad to come back.

  ‘I’ve figured out a way to get even with Mister Petrovic,’ Matt was saying.

  It was almost a week later and I was hoping that Matt had forgotten all about Mister Petrovic. But Matt’s like a dog with a bone. Once he has an idea he just won’t let go.

  We were underneath the old Moreton Bay fig tree in the schoolyard. It was lunchtime. I had a ham and salad roll. Bluey had low-fat cheese and w
holemeal bread. Matt had two Mars Bars and a packet of CCs.

  I wished my mother was too busy working in public relations to make my lunch. ‘What are you going to do?’ I said.

  ‘Not just me,’ he said. ‘It’s got to be a team effort.’

  I had been afraid of that.

  ‘Only we’ll have to be outside his house real early,’ Matt went on.

  ‘How early?’ Bluey asked him.

  ‘We have to be at Mister Petrovic’s house just before half-past seven.’

  ‘Half-past seven?’ Bluey yelled. ‘I’m not even out of bed by then.’

  ‘Do you want to get even with Mister Petrovic, or not?’ Matt asked him.

  I knew Bluey wanted to say that he couldn’t care less about Mister Petrovic any more, but he didn’t know how to tell Matt. ‘Okay,’ he mumbled.

  ‘All right then,’ Matt said. ‘We’ll meet tomorrow morning outside the deli on South Terrace. And this is what we’re going to do …’

  I didn’t like the idea much. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I thought what we were doing wasn’t right. After all, he hadn’t really done anything to us, except shout about his rosebushes. But I didn’t see how I could wriggle out of it now. If I pulled out on a point of principle the others would think I didn’t want to do it because I was chicken, and Matt would spend the rest of the term riding me and calling me a wuss. So I had to agree to go along even though I didn’t want to. As my dad said, you can’t always get what you want in this life.

  But even then I knew no good was going to come of it.

  My stomach felt funny.

  I was awake at six o’clock, even though I’d set the alarm for six-thirty. All night I’d dreamed about Mister Petrovic chasing me down Cantonment Street. He was trying to grab hold of me but instead of hands he had sides of pork. Big hairy ones.

  I got up, went downstairs and got out a cereal bowl, but I didn’t feel hungry. I doubted that I could even manage a Mars Bar and a Coke this morning. I heard Mum get up and go into the bathroom for her shower. I’d already told her that I had to get to school early today because we were having special football practice. She seemed prepared to believe that, even though she did look a bit surprised. Originally I was going to tell her I had to be at school early so I could catch up with some of my school-work but that would have made her immediately suspicious. And if I hadn’t told her anything, just got out of bed early and gone to school, I think she would have hired a private detective to follow me.

  I decided to skip breakfast, got changed into my school uniform, grabbed my schoolbag, shouted goodbye in the general direction of the house and went out.

  Matt was already waiting outside the deli when I got there. Bluey was late. I silently prayed he wasn’t coming because then we wouldn’t be able to do it – it needed three for Matt’s plan to work – and Bluey would be the wuss and not me.

  But at about twenty past seven he showed up, hair all over the place, his tie not on properly, and his school uniform looking like he’d slept in it. Which, as it turned out, he had.

  ‘I got dressed before I went to bed last night,’ he said, ‘so I wouldn’t be late.’

  ‘So why are you late?’ Matt snapped at him.

  ‘I fell asleep at the breakfast table.’

  Matt shook his head. ‘Well, we’ll have to hurry now.’

  We set off up the street. ‘I’ve timed him for three mornings in a row,’ Matt said. ‘He always has a shower at precisely half-past seven. We’ve got five minutes to get into position.’

  As we walked Matt went over the plan once more. I had been allotted the job of scout while Bluey was runner and Matt had what I reckoned was the rather easy job of turning the tap off. Still, as he pointed out, he had done all the hard work of actually casing the place.

  When he had explained it in the schoolyard the day before it had all sounded easy. Now I started thinking about all the things that could go wrong.

  We sauntered up the street, trying to look casual. At 7.29, by Matt’s watch, we reached Mister Petrovic’s house. We looked up and down the street to make sure no one was watching. It was just then that the man next door came out and got into his car.

  ‘We’ve been busted,’ Matt hissed. ‘Keep walking.’

  We waited around the corner in Federation Street until we saw his car drive off and then we sauntered back, hands in our pockets, whistling. But by then it was twenty-five to eight and Matt said it was too late.

  ‘We’ll have to give it away,’ he said.

  ‘That’s bad luck,’ I said, and started to walk off.

  ‘Your watch is fast,’ Bluey said to Matt. ‘It’s just before half-past by my watch.’

  Sometimes Bluey could be so dumb.

  ‘Hey, you could be right,’ Matt said. He turned to me. ‘Where are you going?’

  Matt and Bluey had already vaulted the wall. They were standing there waiting for me to join them.

  Too late to back out now. I took one last look up and down the street and jumped into Mister Petrovic’s front yard. My heart was banging like a drum. I just kept thinking about hairy sides of pork.

  Mister Petrovic’s house had a very narrow driveway on one side and a pebbledash garage with wooden doors. On the other side of the house the wall was very close to an old fence of wooden palings, leaving a narrow path up the side.

  Matt took up his position, crouched beside the tap in the front yard by the wall. It looked like just an ordinary tap but this one was called the Mains and it turned the water on and off for the whole house. He waved me and Bluey towards the little path up the side of the house.

  Bluey went as far as the corner and stopped. As scout, I had been selected to go the rest of the way. If anyone was going to get caught, it was me.

  Thanks, Matt.

  I hesitated. Matt was waving furiously at me and pointing to his watch.

  I took a deep breath and set off.

  The path was just narrow enough for one person. I had to climb over a rusted old bath and a pile of wood with nails sticking out of it. Then I heard singing. It was Mister Petrovic.

  Near the rear of the side wall there was a large window with frosted glass, the sort of glass people put in their bathrooms. As I got closer I saw a big white shape moving about on the other side of the glass and I realised this was Mister Petrovic without any clothes on.

  Then I heard water running as he turned on the shower. Matt was right. It was perfect timing.

  I watched as Mister Petrovic got into the shower. Even through the steam and the frosted glass it wasn’t a very pretty sight.

  As instructed, I gave him a few seconds to get really lathered up with soap and shampoo and then I turned and gave the nod to Bluey. Then Bluey turned and waved to Matt and Matt turned the water off.

  Mister Petrovic stopped singing. He shouted something in a language I didn’t understand. Then he turned around and pressed his face against the frosted glass. It was horrible. His head looked like a huge hairy catfish colliding with the side of its aquarium. I knew he had seen my silhouette through the frosted window.

  It was time to get moving.

  I started running and immediately tripped over the pile of the wood. I tried to get up but I couldn’t. A nail had caught in my pants. I tried to pull it free and it wouldn’t come loose. I pulled again in panic and heard the rip of material as my trousers tore.

  I was too scared to care about my pants right then. I jumped up again and tried to vault the old bath. You know how it is. Normally I could have jumped something twice as high with no trouble, but because I was panicking I didn’t judge it at all and my foot hit the side of the bath and I fell over again.

  By now I was convinced that Mister Petrovic must have reached the end of the passage and was already storming out of his front door. Any second, I imagined, a shadow would fall over the path and there would be Mister Petrovic, all naked and wet and hairy and dripping, those two huge porky hands …

  Holding a meat ax
e.

  I scrambled back to my feet and limped round to the front of the house. I’d made it. I looked around for the others. Matt had gone. So had Bluey. For a fleeting moment I felt completely betrayed.

  As I ran across the garden, I caught my hand on a thorn on one of the rose bushes. I yelped but kept running. Gripping my torn and bleeding hand with the other hand, I scrambled over the wall and ran off up the street.

  I looked back once before I turned the corner. Mister Petrovic was standing at his front gate. He had a towel around his middle and he was covered with soap. There was shampoo all over his head. He waved his fist at me and shouted something.

  ‘What do you do, stupid thing!’

  Now I had got away I sort of felt sorry for him.

  Matt and Bluey were sitting on a a wall in Federation Street, bent over laughing. Matt was almost hysterical. ‘I could hear him yelling from the street!’ he shouted.

  Bluey looked up at me. I think he was surprised that I wasn’t laughing too. Then he saw the rip in my pants, and that I was limping. ‘You all right?’

  Matt looked at my hand. ‘You’re bleeding.’

  ‘Where did you go?’ I said.

  ‘I thought you were right behind us,’ Bluey said defensively.

  There was an awkward silence and then Matt laughed again. ‘That was a great joke, wasn’t it?’ They both started laughing again.

  I wondered how I was going to explain the torn pants to my mum. She was going to have a fit. I tied a handkerchief around my cut hand and limped off. Yeah, a great joke all right, guys.

  Only I think it was on me.

  4

  The next Saturday afternoon there was a big party at our house for Barry’s fortieth birthday. They were planning to keep going till late but Mum said I could stay up for a while if I behaved.

  There were mobs of people. A lot of Barry’s friends from the school where he teaches, and a lot of Mum’s friends from her school, plus Barry’s family, plus Mum’s family – including my uncle, who brought Barry’s first wife. Even Dad and his girlfriend.

  I wasn’t expecting them to be there.