Finding Cassie Crazy Page 15
We will be very busy.
To begin: one thing that all boys should be able to do (in my opinion) is to walk along beside a girl, occasionally kicking a pebble. So, I’m just wondering if you want to see me after school one day this week and walk to Castle Hill, Kicking a Pebble?
Love
Emily
Em
Sure, let’s meet at your school gate again tomorrow, same time, and take a walk. I guess the important question is: do I bring the pebble with me or do I choose one lying on the road?
Charlie
Dear Charlie
For your interest, Cass was mixed in her reaction when we told her we had tracked down Matthew Dunlop. She was quiet and said she didn’t really want to talk about it. She asked us to leave it alone and said she didn’t want any revenge.
But she doesn’t know what she means.
I await Lydia’s suggestions for the revenge, with interest.
See you tomorrow for the walking-along lesson. And please do not bring your own pebble as that would be funny.
Love
Emily
Hey Em
How did I go at Kicking the Pebble? I thought I rocked.
Charlie
Dear Charlie
Well, to be honest you are not much good at Kicking a Pebble. However, you redeemed yourself by being very funny in your conversation as we walked, and I just wonder why you hid your best humour from me on our first date?
One interesting thing is that I just tried to list some examples of when you were humorous, but I found that I could not explain why I was laughing half the distance into Castle Hill. I wonder if there is a lesson here, but what?
Now, changing the subject.
Here is something very annoying. Cass told us this morning that part of why she believed in Matthew Dunlop at the start of their letter-writing was that a girl in our year, Bindy Mackenzie, told her that she RECOGNISED THE NAME. Bindy said that Matthew Dunlop PLAYED THE TRUMPET AT THE SCHOOL SPECTACULAR LAST YEAR.
Oh puh-lease.
So therefore Cass said to Matthew, ‘How is your trumpet playing going?’ and Matthew just played along and agreed he played the trumpet. Which meant that Cass was more likely to trust him as she herself is musical.
Lyd and I have had a stern talking to Bindy Mackenzie to follow up on this and do you know what she says? She says, ‘Actually, maybe it was Michael Dunlop who played the trumpet.’
So, you can imagine, we wanted to kill her. Why did she tell Cass she was certain it was Matthew Dunlop when she CANNOT HAVE BEEN SURE. What an IDIOT SHE IS.
It now hurts my eyes even to look at Bindy Mackenzie, and the worst thing is that she is apparently SMART. She always comes first in English. The idiot. And when I stay back to do assignments in the library, she is always there with her laptop computer, sitting at a window desk, typing away like the wind. She is one of those touching typists, who makes a lot of clattering to show off how fast she can type, and also she LOOKS AROUND AND OUT THE WINDOW WHILE SHE TYPES. This is so we will all realise that she knows the keys off by heart. What a loser. I can’t stand her.
Anyway.
How was your weekend? Mine was of some note. On Friday night my Uncle Christopher and Auntie June were at our place, collecting my brother William because my parents had to go away for the weekend. It was very unpleasant: Uncle Christopher has Breath, as I have told you before, and won’t stop talking; Auntie June is a very garrulous woman and hardly says a word.
It was good when they left, and Cass and Lyd took their place.
Love
Em
Dear Em
Let’s have another training session to talk about all your issues.
Love
Charlie
PS You said that your Auntie June is a ‘garrulous’ person who hardly says a word. I don’t see how that works. I didn’t know what ‘garrulous’ meant so I asked my mum, and she said it means a person who talks a lot. Like you in your letters.
Dear Charlie
Okay, now, listen here, Charlie. There is no need for you to correct my language. I notice that this is getting to be a habit, and I think it is very strange that ‘garrulous’ means talkative. To me, the word ‘garrulous’ has a nervy, shaky feeling, matching Auntie June to a T.
But that is as it may be, and I am going to tell you a story that I learned in German today. Frau McAllister even showed us a video of it happening so we know it is a true story. Well, what happened was, a former President of the United States went to Berlin, Germany, and he shouted at the crowd: ‘Ich bin ein Berliner!!’ Now, for some reason that I cannot fathom he was trying to say ‘I am a resident of Berlin!!’ (He wasn’t.) But, for some reason that I also cannot fathom he was actually saying: ‘I am a doughnut!!’
Now, I believe that Frau McAllister was showing us the video to teach us a little lesson about how you can make a fool of yourself when you speak German.
HOWEVER, I will tell you the lesson that I took from the story.
It is this: after the President shouted ‘I am a doughnut!!’, well, the crowd CHEERED.
They SHOUTED AND CHEERED. Did they just become quiet and embarrassed on his behalf? Did they laugh and scorn him? Did they say, ‘PS Mr President, you have that word wrong?’ No. I don’t think so.
Because they knew what he meant.
And the thing is, Charlie, you know what I mean when I get mixed up and, more important, I know what I mean.
So shut up.
It is so cold today that I cannot put this pen down. It is frozen to my fingers.
Love
Emily
PS Will we continue with the program? Yes, I hope so. I would like to do Gazing into the Girl’s Eyes next. When can we do that?
Dear Em
Don’t you think that at some point somebody told the President about his doughnut mistake? Maybe the next time he was eating a cinnamon doughnut, someone said, ‘Hey Mr President, how does that Berliner taste, eh?’
Because if nobody told him he might have kept coming back year after year saying this same thing and in the end they would have stopped cheering.
I dropped by your school yesterday arvo, just in case I might bump into you and get to practise Saying Hello to a Girl I Met by Chance. Anyhow, it was earlier than normal as we got out of sport on account of the rain. I didn’t see you, but I did hear the bell ringing for the end of the Ashbury school day, followed by a lot of announcements from your school PA system.
And when I heard one particular announcement, well, VASHOOM (that’s the sound of my amazing memory). VASHOOM went my amazing memory.
You recall that chick who called my school about a gas explosion last term, and I made a total arse of myself by ringing the alarm and everything? And then missed out on the car show of my dreams? You recall that I could hear an announcement in the background of that prank call, which I took note of, and which I took to be as follows:
Would all [something something] who are [something] on the inside of the Balkans, please be devout immediately [something] and the lives of others.
Well, I’m standing outside your school and I hear the following over your PA system there:
Would all those students who are climbing on the inside of the balconies please get out of there immediately. You are endangering your own lives and the lives of others.
VASHOOM, as I said, goes my memory and hyperlinks the two announcements.
The chick was calling from your school, Emily. I know it. And for some reason, which I cannot fathom, the kids at your school are regularly climbing on the inside of the balconies.
But the question is: why would someone at your school want to make a prank call to my school?
Maybe YOU could help track down the evil witch who made this phone call, just as I (tried to) track down the evil Matthew Dunlop to help you? Interested?
Catch you
Charlie
Hey Em
I haven’t heard from you for a couple of days. Is ever
ything okay? I was at your school again yesterday afternoon, hanging out, but maybe you’re tired of the training course? Maybe you’re avoiding me? I swear I will not hang out at your school gates any more if you don’t want me to. It’s f/n freezing anyway.
I will spend my time at home instead, kicking the pebble around.
Catch ya
Charlie
Dear Charlie
Well, Lyd and I have had a secret meeting to talk about the revenge on Paul Wilson. It went on for several hours and the ap-chotte of it was that:
1. Lyd has been thinking that the best way to get revenge on Paul Wilson is to discover the thing that he loves most in the world, and take it away from him.
2. Lyd has confirmed that the thing PaulWilson loves most in the world is his beautiful girlfriend: Christina Kratovac.
3. Therefore, we must steal Christina away from Paul Wilson.
4. It is clear that you are a person who likes Christina and (in my professional opinion) you are ready to steal any girl from anybody.
5. Therefore, I invite you to go ahead and steal Christina.
6. Please let me know when she is your girlfriend.
Also, Charlie, listen, I would be very happy to help you track down the girl who made the prank call about the gas explosion. You know what, now I think about it, it was almost certainly Bindy Mackenzie. She is that type. I will be really mean to her for you, and you will forget all about it and get on with your life. Okay? Great
Best wishes
Emily
Dear Emily
I know you don’t want to be corrected, but I swear to God you mean ‘upshot’, don’t you? Not ap-chotte? It is not always necessary to translate things into another language you know.
Are you sure you want me to go after Christina? Lately I’ve kind of thought I might just give up on that. Plus, didn’t you and I need to Gaze into Each Other’s Eyes first? How will I know how to gaze at Christina? And my pebble kicking? Disaster.
Love
Charlie
PS What makes you think it was Bindy Mackenzie who made the prank call? It sounds like you just kind of generally hate her, the reason being that she made a mistake about the trumpet playing of ‘Matthew Dunlop’. Is it really Bindy’s fault she made a mistake? Maybe she just wanted to be friendly with Cassie?
Dear Charlie
Can you stop lecturing me please? Thanks. It’s really morally resplendent. And besides, it is as if you don’t want me to be ME.
Plus, Charlie, you get a lot of things wrong.
Eg: you say that the only reason I don’t like Bindy is that she made a mistake. But no! There are plenty of reasons not to like Bindy: she has a very high-pitched voice, for one. And today, furthermore, she has a pimple under her nose and she doesn’t seem to know about it. Or at least she hasn’t squeezed it, even though it is like a tomato seed, and therefore I get the impression that she doesn’t know about it.
Second eg: you say that ‘it is not necessary to translate things into another language’. Well, BLEEP (as in the sound of an incorrect answer). It is ALWAYS NECESSARY TO TRANSLATE THINGS.
And I know this because just last night, Lyd and I were at Cass’s place, and Cass’s mother was on her treadmill there. She was running along on her treadmill, yet standing still, as is the nature of the treadmill, and she had many little rivulets of sweat on her face and her neckline.
Cass’s mother is freckled and large-bosomed, and her name is Patricia. Therefore, I will now call her Patricia for this story.
Anyhow, Lyd, Cass and I were just watching TV, with the background thud-thud-thud of Patricia’s feet on her treadmill. Then this ad came on, which maybe you have seen, in which a man in a suit comes home and his wife leans out of the kitchen and says, ‘Just making you a divine Diamante Dinner, darling,’ and the husband says, ‘You can make me dinner any day, my Diamante darling.’
‘Make your own dinner,’ Cass said hostilely.
‘That ad is so sexist,’ contributed Lydia.
From her treadmill, Patricia said, ‘Well, of course, the ad is sexist. But that’s just one of the ways you can interpret it.’
Cass was a bit surprised as it is her mother who is always trying to make us into so-called feminists. I try to refuse her attempts as it is not needed in our generation.
‘For example,’ Patricia continued, hardly puffing at all, as she is very fit, ‘for example, how might a socialist interpret that ad?’
We all turned around from the floor and looked at her.
‘A socialist might point out the conspicuous consumption in all that luxury furnishing and the man’s designer suit and the unimaginable waste of a packaged Diamante meal while most of the world’s population is starving.’
‘Huh,’ said Lydia.
‘But an advertising executive might say, Nice product imaging because they’ve got cheap microwave meals and associated them with a young professional lifestyle. And a trade practices lawyer might say, Hmm, is that misleading and deceptive to call those awful meals ‘divine’? And a Christian might say, Well, that is a beautiful, loving marriage, and marriage is based on sacrifice. Or some tosh like that. And now, tell me what might a Muslim or a Buddhist say?’
We all continued to stare at her.
Patricia’s feet started moving faster while drops of sweat scattered from her hair, ‘Come on! Didn’t you girls take Comparative Religion last year?’
We explained that the Comparative Religion class was cancelled, so we did Liturgical Dance instead.
‘The point is,’ said Patricia, the pounding of her feet slowing down as the treadmill let her have a break. ‘The point is that there is no right or wrong; there is no one truth, there are lots of truths. And you girls should translate the world into as many different languages as possible. If you see the world in just one language, your world becomes too small. Okay?’
We did not answer as we were translating the TV ad into Liturgical Dance, which was making us laugh too much to talk.
See you
Emily
PS You are definitely ready to ask Christina out. I don’t really feel like giving you advice on how to do it, I think you just go ahead and be funny etc like you are with me, and give her that little wave by raising one finger in the air. Please go ahead and hurry up and just make it happen.
Dear Emily
Well, you should maybe listen with care to your friend’s mum with her theories about looking at the world in different ways, because it might make you calm down a bit. As my brother Brian often says to Mum when she’s in one of her intense moods, you seem to be a person of EXTREMES and HYPERBOLES. You are a bit wacked out and crazy, and I have used those capital letters in the previous sentence as an echo of all the capital letters you often use.
No offence.
When can we meet up again?
Love
Charlie
PS Sometimes the right thing to do with zits is not squeeze them and maybe that’s what your buddy Bindy is up to there?
Dear Charlie
I will now translate the criticisms in your letter into a variety of languages:
Sexism: Boys always think that girls are too extreme and emotional. They think that girls are crazy, whereas they think they themselves are level as a head. They are WRONG.
Socialism: It is wrong to use long words like ‘hyperbole’ because that is the way of the rich classes.
Mathematics: Hyperbole is something to do with graphs. What is it in particular? I don’t know. I hate Maths.
Christianity: You should not throw stones until you learn how to Kick a Pebble.
Stupidity: What you say in your letter is fairly stupid.
I might check with Cass’s mum whether I am playing this game correctly.
Well, Charlie, you are exasperating me. I hear no word of you pursuing Christina. She will be wrapped in you. I know it.
Emily
Dear Emily
Well, I don’t know. I still think Christina is gorge
ous, and she’s a really nice girl and you were fairly wrong back when you said she must be a bad person if she’s going out with Paul Wilson. It’s not her fault that Paul tricked her into falling for him.
I mean, think about it: Paul Wilson tricked your friend Cass too. He’s just good at taking people for rides, clearly. The teachers here slobber all over him and he doesn’t even do that well. He’s just a smarmy bastard who thinks he was put on earth to be the next Russell Crowe in Hollywood and to perform for the girls, is all.
This is all incidental leading me up to the point: that maybe I’m not interested in Christina any more. Maybe I have changed.
Remember what you were like when you wrote to me last term? You were a bit of a loser. You were always going on about ‘secret assignments’, I recall, and you really wanted to get your English teacher into bed.
So maybe we have both changed since then.
I just need to check with you one more time. Do you really truly want me to go for Christina?
Yours
Charlie
Dear Charlie
Lately I have been thinking a lot about the idea of hurting yourself, and I have some conclusions, which are:
(a) It’s okay to hurt yourself in little ways. For example, it’s okay to scrape your knuckles on a brick wall and make yourself bleed a bit. It’s okay to bite the middle part of your thumb as hard as you can and leave sharp tooth marks. It’s okay to slap the palm of your hand against a mirror until it cracks, and maybe you get a cut. Those things are okay.
(b) It’s not okay to hurt yourself a LOT. Eg suicide or eating disorders.
This girl in our year jumped off a cliff last year, and I would put that in category (b). People said she was trying to kill herself, something to do with her boyfriend. Maybe he broke up with her or something? Anyway, I was so angry with her.
Because this was happening around the same time as Cassie was going to her dad’s funeral and I was scared it would make Cass think of doing the same thing, and I thought, What a stupid idiot that girl is, if Cass can get through this without jumping off a cliff, then I think you can get through a break-up.