‘Oh poo,’ he said. It was empty except for a photo of a cat and a star sign cut out from a glossy magazine. He threw them into the grass. I reached for the star sign, but it jerked away in the wind.
Wally unwrapped a toffee, sucked on the side.
Tilly held out her hand. ‘Give me mine then,’ she said.
‘Get your own,’ Wally said.
‘But you got three,’ Tilly said. ‘One for each of us.’
‘I never said I was getting one for you,’ Wally said.
I turned to Tilly. ‘Just so you know,’ I said, ‘I’m not weird. I was just timing my breathing.’
‘What?’ Tilly asked.
‘My record’s forty-three seconds. I bet those stupid girls can’t even do half that.’
Tilly shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’
‘Wally times me in the bath. I bet I can hold my breath longer than anyone in both of our schools combined.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I believe you.’
I wanted to pinch myself. I thought she’d be impressed but she definitely wasn’t and I didn’t understand why, because I knew being able to hold your breath for forty-three seconds was very impressive.
‘Look,’ Wally said. He pointed to the bottom of the oval where Brendan was entering the animal pen. ‘I can see his mole from here.’
Brendan was wearing his school trackies, which bunched at his joggers. He was the oldest kid in there by heaps. We watched him play with the animals, scattering his bag of seed on the sawdust instead of feeding it straight to the animals like you were supposed to do. He chased a lamb around the pen, picked up a chick and held it to his face.
‘What a weirdo,’ Wally said.
Brendan went to the exit of the pen and headed towards the toilet block. A second later Wally got up. ‘I need to pee,’ he said.
Wally never used the school toilets, but he wrapped his sucked toffee back into its patty pan.
‘Well, I don’t need to go to the toilet,’ Tilly said.
‘You weren’t invited,’ said Wally. ‘Come on, Cub.’
Normally I would have died to have Tilly all to myself, but I didn’t like the way she’d looked at me at the fishpond. It was the way the kids at school looked at me. I bet she’d been talking to people from school without me knowing. I bet they’d told her all sorts of lies about me.
I followed Wally as he barged through the crowd. We got to the toilet block just as Brendan was stepping through the door. I walked towards the girls’ entrance, but Wally told me to come in with him.
‘I need to pee as well,’ I said.
‘Pee after,’ Wally said. ‘Brendan needs to pay. He keeps dobbing on me. I’m sick of getting into trouble over nothing.’
‘He’ll just dob again and then you’ll get into more trouble.’
‘No, I won’t,’ Wally said. ‘It’s not school time. That’s the law. You can only get in trouble if it’s during school time.’
‘I’m not allowed in the boys’ toilets.’
‘Don’t be a wuss,’ Wally said. ‘You look like a boy, anyway.’
I tucked my hair behind my ears. In a few more months it would be long enough for a ponytail, but I knew Mum would cut if off before it got to that point. She never let me have long hair, would never let me have a ponytail, said it made me look too scruffy and I’d get nits again. Wally grabbed my arm and pulled me into the block. It smelled feral. I held my nose. Brendan was standing in front of a urinal, and when he heard us he whipped around. He looked at Wally and then popped his bug-eyes out at me.
‘You’re not supposed to be in here,’ Brendan said. His hands fiddled in front of his trackies. ‘I’m not peeing in front of a girl.’
‘I’m not watching,’ I said. I stared at the permanent marker scribbles on the wall next to the mirror.
‘Get out of here!’ Brendan shouted. His fists were clenched, like hard rocks. ‘You’re a girl. You’re not supposed to be in here.’
‘Shut up,’ Wally said. He turned and closed the metal door, pulled across the bolt. He reached into his pocket and took out a red pocketknife. It was exactly the same as the one Ian had used to poke the hole in the chip packet. He unfolded the knife, grabbed my wrist and took a step towards Brendan.
‘What are you doing?’ Brendan said, backing towards the wall. He put his rock fists up near his face. ‘Get away from me.’ His face was scrunched. I could see the gummy earwax rimming his earhole, bright as a crayon.
‘Just shut up,’ Wally said.
Brendan squeezed his eyes shut. A squealing noise escaped from his lips. ‘My dad told me all about loony Les chopping up all those ladies,’ he said. ‘I’ve already told him that you’re loonies too, so if you chop me up he’ll know it was you, and he’ll be after the both of you.’
Wally loosened his grip on my wrist. He sniffed, curled up his lip. ‘Yuck,’ he said.
I took a step back. There was a spread of wet blooming on the front of Brendan’s trackies. His legs were shivering.
‘Come grab his hands, Cub,’ Wally said.
I didn’t want to touch him. I wanted to run outside, but I knew Wally would be angry if I left him. Knew he wouldn’t talk to me for days, which was the worst thing.
Brendan lunged sideways, tried to dart into a cubicle. Water dripped down from the sink, where a clogged drain was overflowing, making a mucky puddle on the tiles. He slipped on the water, arms outstretched, as though grasping for something to cling on to, before he slammed onto his stomach. His chin bone cracked on the tiles. Brendan squirmed onto his back. His face had a green colour to it. There was blood coming from his chin, his mouth.
Wally peered over Brendan, knife pointed at the bulge where he’d pissed himself. He brought the knife higher, up to Brendan’s ear. ‘If you tell anyone, then I will chop you up,’ Wally said. He pressed the tip of the blade to the mole. ‘I know how to do it. I’ve had special training.’
Wally stood up straight. He grabbed my wrist again, pulled me to the entrance, where he opened the bolt and led us outside. He looked around to see if anyone was coming, then put the knife back into his pocket.
‘That’ll show him,’ Wally said. He blinked three times in a row, shook his head as though he had water in his ears.
Brendan started to cry inside the toilet, thin wheezing coming through the door and cracked louvres. I shook Wally’s hand off me. There were finger marks on my skin, like squished raspberries. I could smell the pee and the boys’ toilet smell and felt like spewing. I didn’t know what was making me feel sick—the smell or Wally trying to make everyone think we were mental, or what Brendan had said about Les, what Cassie had told me not to ask Dad and Mum about. I was sick of everyone knowing more than I did, sick of everyone treating me like I was a dumb girl. I headed towards the oval. Wally called after me but I didn’t turn around. I walked straight past Tilly, didn’t even look at her either. I walked to the gate and then walked all the way home.
Our bikes were by the letterbox, their wheels touching as though they were friends talking in a secret bike language. Wally’s wheels were speckled with coloured spokes, just like mine. I picked his off one by one, ran onto the road and threw them into the scrub on the other side. I wheeled my bike under the house. Cassie and Ian were on the verandah, sitting up on the railing, looking out over the paddock. I was surprised to see Ian. He hadn’t been over since the first time, and Cassie hadn’t mentioned him. I didn’t want to talk to Ian, didn’t want Ian to talk to me, but if I didn’t find out what Brendan kept banging on about I was going to die.
‘You have to tell me,’ I said to Cassie from the bottom of the stairs. I put on a serious voice, like I was an adult who needed to sort out business.