Finding Cassie Crazy Page 10

Hi Cassie

  Yeah, the reason my dad lost his job in the factory was that my mum went along to the factory and told all these lies about how he’s not a trustworthy guy, and so they fired him, and then my mum got his job. So now she’s the one making the little plastic letter-candles that go on birthday cakes, instead of Dad.

  I’ve been thinking a lot about this situation between you and me. How it’s kind of changed so sudden and sharply like that.

  Like, okay, if an aeroplane banked as sharp as that, the passengers would tip out of their seats.

  I guess it seems weird to me that you can forgive me for all that violent imagery (as you would say in your crazy way). How do I know you’re not just messing with me, so you can get your revenge some time? Like stick in the knife. As everyone else seems to do.

  No one has ever been honest to me like you’ve been. I like it.

  I get turned on when I see your handwriting on an envelope.

  Cannot friggin believe I just said that.

  It’s just that you seem complicated and cool at the same time, and way more fascinating than any other girl I ever heard of, and I cannot believe you’re an Ashbury girl. Plus, my friends here kind of hate me a bit these days because I was being an arsehole to them just like I was to you, lately. On account of that girl from your school breaking my heart and ruining my life and everything.

  You’re kind of lucky having best friends who you’ve known since you were five years old or whatever. I bet they’d forgive you if you went through a bad phase like I did.

  Okay, I’ve thought about it, and I’d really like it if you got some help from your mum about my trumpet-playing situation.

  It would be so great if I could get to play again, and play in the School Spectacular, because of advice from your mother. You know, the School Spectacular gets televised? So, maybe someone will see it and ask me to be in their band or whatever. Plus my nan would be proud of me. Though you probably can’t get ABC in Heaven. You’d only be able to get Foxtel Sports and the porno channels.

  Tell me what she suggests, okay?

  Love

  Matthew

  Dear Matthew

  Can you tell me if you have a Science teacher called the Rattler or the Rattlesnake at your school and, if so, what his actual name is? Also, can you tell me everything you can about him, including what kind of car he drives? Thanks.

  In actual fact, I haven’t been friends with Emily and Lydia since we were five years old, as you said. Although I did meet Emily in first grade, but then it wasn’t until second grade that we became friends with Lydia, and that was only because Em and I gave her special permission to become our friend. You want to know why Em and I were best friends? BECAUSE WE BOTH HAD GLASSES WITH PATCHES. Everyone else in the class wanted to be our friend because of our eye patches. It was like a kind of secret society. And we made the others do auditions to be our friend. We said no to everyone except Lydia because we both liked her and she made up this really great story about fairies and witches and stuff as her audition, and she made Emily and me the fairies in the story, so we were happy.

  Interestingly, it turned out that most of our parents already knew each other because they went to law school together.

  I’m sure your friends still like you. Could you just explain to them about how you weren’t being yourself, on account of going through the difficult time, and apologise, and promise not to do it again? But then again, I guess listening to my advice hasn’t been all that helpful so far. I feel bad about that.

  But I hate it when people are lonely. This girl in my year named Elizabeth, who I’m kind of half friends with, well, she’s got this best friend who used to run away all the time. Last year she even ran away to the circus and then she disappeared completely for ages. I used to see Liz walking around trying to pretend that she liked the other people she was hanging around with but I could tell she didn’t.

  I just can’t imagine how it would be if I didn’t have Lydia and Emily. Or if they kept disappearing.

  I’ve told my mother about your issue with the trumpet playing and everything, and she got angry on your behalf. She has all these suggestions to help you in your fight with the principal. Do you want me to send them?

  Don’t forget to tell me about your teacher called the Rattlesnake, okay?

  Thanks

  Cassie

  Dear Cassie

  How come you want to know about the Rattler? Yeah, we’ve got a teacher called Mr Rivers, and he happens to drive a very nice little silver Audi, which makes you wonder what he’s doing teaching at a hell hole like Brookfield. He’s parked it in this special place behind the admin block ever since this moron took it for a spin last year when it was in the parking lot. Now it’s under the trees so the birds shit on it, but at least it’s shady I guess.

  Apart from that, I don’t really have anything to say about the Rattler. Hope that helps.

  It would be so great if your mum could help with my situation. I would just love you forever.

  Matthew

  Dear Matthew

  Thanks for the information about your teacher called the Rattler. It was very useful.

  My mum’s got this huge amount of information she wants me to send to you, but I don’t really know if I can put it into the Ashbury–Brookfield mail system. I mean, it’s like a foolscap folder worth of material including the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child and the European Human Rights Convention etc, and all kinds of cases about kids’ rights to express themselves by playing the trumpet. Or anyway, practically that. One thing you’ve done is get my mother excited about something, which is a real change for her, so congratulations. But how do you reckon I should get this information to you? I should send it to you soon, because it’s almost the holidays and I guess we won’t be in contact until next term.

  See you

  Cassie

  Dear Cassie

  Why don’t we meet so you can give me the material? I’d kind of like to ask you out anyway. I think my broken heart has been healed by your handwriting on the outside of envelopes.

  I think you are a sweet, kind, mad human being, and I’d like to get together with you and see what happens. I hope you don’t mind me saying things like this. I wish I could fly a plane already because I’d take you for a spin, because I think that’s where you deserve to be: up there with the stars.

  Do you want to meet somewhere? Maybe this Friday after school? I was even thinking we could have a kind of after-school picnic at the reserve at the back of your school, to break the spell of the bad memories, and like a symbol of a new start: you and me. Start of the winter holidays. Start of something fresh. I know it’s cold but I could bring blankets.

  I hope I’m not making a fool of myself here.

  Matthew

  Dear Matthew

  I don’t think you’re making a fool of yourself. I think you’re pretty weird and I think this is the strangest way to get to know someone ever. I made a lot of a fool of myself writing you all those stupid letters earlier this term, when you were telling me to get lost. I can’t even explain why I kept writing.

  But now, you seem like a really strange and interesting person, and I guess I’d like to meet you.

  I don’t know about meeting in the reserve. It’s practically winter, and it’s getting dark fairly early each day.

  But I suppose if you need to get rid of your bad feelings about the reserve, I can meet you there.

  Best wishes

  Cassie

  Dear Cassie

  Thank you for believing in me. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. One day I’ll play a beautiful trumpet solo for you.

  Let’s meet just inside the first gate of the reserve—just before the trees get too dense so at least we’ll have moonlight if it gets too dark.

  Let’s make it 4 pm, okay?

  Last day of term.

  I’ll bring something to celebrate with.

  See you Friday

  Matthew


  PART 14

  LYDIA

  Hey! Things are really hotting up! Your literary skills are on fire! Go, you writer!

  Which is why the theme of this Part of your Note-book™ is going to be heat!! Start by telling us the hottest thing you can think of right this moment.

  Seb Mantegna.

  Ouch! You’ve scalded our fingertips! Nice description. You’re really getting the hang of this. And now, for a 360-degree rotation, how about the coldest things?

  Why?

  I saw Seb last night for exactly three seconds.

  It was the last day of school and we were meeting at the Blue Danish. Cass was supposed to be there too. She said she had to meet someone else, but then she was going to come and find me there. But she didn’t show up. The traitor.

  So, I’m sitting in the corner armchair, trying to look around without looking like I’m looking around, the loudest noise being the fast-paced tapping of my heart.

  Then there’s a shadow in the café doorway and a sunflower in my face. And there is Seb, looking dead serious, handing me this flower, turning round and walking out the door.

  I hardly even saw what he looked like, except for the wicked spark in his eyes.

  So how did he know it was me? Do I look like my letters that much? I don’t even think I’m being myself in my letters, so how could I look like them?

  I did notice that he had dark hair and pale beautiful creamy transparent translucent milky coffee hazelnut lighter skin.

  Well, it’s the first day of the winter holidays, so I could talk about ‘cold’ like you want me to. OH LOOK, I’VE RUN OUT OF SPACE. Sorry.

  Back to HOT again! Tell us some cures for sunburn! Ask your family for ideas.

  I should just let you know that I’m not at home with the family at the moment. I’m at Em’s place, sitting at her kitchen table eating crumpets.

  Em’s parents are about to go away for a few days. Em is standing at the open fridge looking for honey. Her dad is sitting at the table opposite me, leaning over a notepad and writing in a frenzy. Her mum is walking in and out of the kitchen, carrying a dictaphone that she’s talking to in a mystery language.

  I will now ask everyone here for a sunburn cure.

  Me: Who can tell me a cure for sunburn?

  Mrs Thompson: (calling from the laundry) Aloe vera!

  Mr Thompson: (looking up from his notepad) You’re sunburnt? How interesting. I wonder if you might tell us how you got sunburnt, Lydia? Considering it’s been raining these last three days! (Chuckles to himself as he returns to his notepad.)

  Emily: Do you want to know anything else about Charlie, Lyd? Just ask a question. Any question.

  Mrs Thompson: (wandering into the room and talking into her dictaphone) Semi-colon new line bullet point, get a mixmaster, semi-colon new line bullet point, read The Wind in the Willows. (Switching off the dictaphone and looking around with her eyes wide open, as if in shock) Benjamin? Why did I want to read The Wind in the Willows?

  Emily: Did I tell you what Charlie did when I bought the popcorn, Lydia? It was SO SO funny.

  You should always try to offer some advice in your stories. Throw in a sunburn cure and you’ll make at least one reader happy!

  Describe what it’s like being sunburnt . . .

  Barney and Maribelle were riding on a merry-go-round.

  Barney on the antelope, Maribelle on the zebra. This reminded them that their youngest child, Eloise, had not phoned lately. (Eloise had a pet zebra.) She would be turning four next week.

  ‘Remember when we taught her to fly?’ said Barney, tenderly. ‘On her third birthday?’

  ‘Ah yes,’ recalled Maribelle, wistfully. ‘It was a sunny day and her nose got sunburnt! She felt a stinging sensation. Later, the sunburnt nose itched.’

  QUICK FLICK! Time for some flexing of your memory muscles! Tell us about some really hot days from your past.

  I remember Cass in Year 8 holding an ice-block against the back of my neck to cool me down on a 40-degree day.

  Cass is supposed to be here already actually. She’s extremely late.

  We’ll let you in on a secret. Another thing that readers love to hear about is food. The reason people read is so that they can get recipe ideas. Tell us some piping-hot foods that are perfect on a cold wintry day.

  I’ll let you in on a secret: sometimes you get on my nerves.

  The reason people read is so they can travel without leaving home! Do a little research on a very hot country for us.

  I thought they were reading because they were hungry.

  Grab a thesaurus, look up the word ‘hot’ and write down the first five words that it gives.

  Mr Thompson just got a thesaurus from his study for me, even though his taxi is waiting outside. Mrs Thompson is still talking in her strange language and doesn’t seem to notice the taxi horn, which is blaring.

  Warm, humid, sultry, sweltering, simmering, scalding, burning.

  Actually, where is Cassie? It’s almost lunchtime and we were supposed to have breakfast here together.

  Okay, we’re almost done here, and it’s time to let you in on a secret. Are you listening?

  ‘Hot’, as you know, can refer to the temperature. But did you know it also means a whole heap of other things?!

  What do you think this is:

  It’s the box!

  Now—tattatattatattatatta (drum roll)—where should you be thinking?

  That’s right!!!!

  OUTSIDE the box.

  If you think outside the box, what does ‘hot’ mean besides a hot temperature?

  FINALLY, Cassie’s at the door. She’s calling out that there’s a taxi waiting outside if anybody wants it, and Mr and Mrs Thompson both just jumped to their feet, knocking their chairs over in shock.

  I’ll leave you to play with your boxes and find out where she’s been.

  Yep. That’s right! But don’t be embarrassed.

  The main thing is—you’ve got the idea. Take a break and we’ll see you next time.

  PART 15

  CASSIE

  Monday, Late Afternoon, Cannot See the Moon

  Well, hello there Diary

  It’s me again. Cassie.

  It’s the third day of the holidays and I’m at Em’s place, and Lyd and Em are downstairs doing experimental cooking, and they’ve been trying to make me tell them what’s wrong.

  Nothing’s wrong. I was supposed to meet my Brookfield penfriend on the last day of school and he didn’t show up, and I waited for about five hours like a stupid idiot, and then I was too late to go meet Lyd at the Blue Danish. So, see, there’s nothing to tell.

  I’m still not the kind of person who writes in diaries so I don’t know what I’m doing here. Only, for some reason, I’ve been thinking about the time when I tried yoga.

  I was maybe six years old, and my mum and grandmother were doing yoga in the living room, watching a yoga video so they’d know what to do.

  I decided to try it myself (secretly, so they wouldn’t laugh at me), and I came up to my room and I was lying on the floor trying to get my feet behind my neck. I did that fairly easily and I felt proud. Only then I got this idea that my feet were stuck there. Like I suddenly forgot I could just take them down. So I started SCREAMING, and Mum and Grandma came running up the stairs, opened my bedroom door, saw me on the floor with my feet behind my neck and burst out laughing.

  Dad came downstairs from his studio to see what was so funny. He ignored Mum and Grandma, who were now falling against the wall hurting themselves they were laughing so hard and he sat down on the floor beside me.

  He looked at me carefully, looked at my feet behind my neck, looked at his own feet and swivelled his own neck, as if he was trying to work out how it all fit together. Then he carefully took my feet from behind my neck and put them back where they belonged on the floor.

  Then he kissed the top of my head and said, ‘Now you’re cooking with gas.’

  Afterwards, in the
kitchen, I heard him tell Mum and Grandma they had a pair of hearts as cold as vanilla ice-cream, and Grandma said, ‘pfft!’ and flicked a pea at him.

  PART 16

  EMILY

  I, Benjamin Albert Thompson, Lawyer, of 52 Hunting-down Circle, Cherrybrook, in the State of New South Wales, do solemnly and sincerely declare:

  1. My most treasured possessions are my Wife, my two Children (‘Emily and William’) and my wine collection.

  2. I keep my wine collection in the cellar of my family home at 52 Hunting-down Circle, Cherrybrook (‘my Home’).

  3. My Children, Emily and William, usually spend their days at school, but they are currently on vacation from school (‘the Children’s Holiday’).

  4. Two weeks ago, on the first Saturday of the Children’s Holiday, my Wife and I left the Home to attend the Law Society Annual Symposium in Brisbane (‘the Symposium’).

  5. I left my daughter (‘Emily’) at Home, together with her friends, Cassie and Lydia (‘Cassie’ and ‘Lydia’).

  6. Upon returning from the Symposium, four days later, I played a game of Pictionary with my Wife, Emily, William, Lydia and Cassie.

  7. I recall that I felt very cheerful, at that time.

  THE MISSING WINE

  8. Yesterday evening, I came home from work feeling happy, as it was a Friday. I went down to my cellar to say hello to my wine collection.

  9. I noticed that two bottles of 1962 Penfolds Grange Hermitage (‘the Wine’) were missing from my collection.

  10. One bottle of the Wine has the value of approximately one of Emily’s horses. Therefore, two bottles of the Wine have the value of approximately two of Emily’s horses.

  CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE

  11. Upon discovering that the Wine was missing, I proceeded to the kitchen where I found my Wife eating a small chocolate helicopter. I had a conversation with my wife, which was to the following effect: