Finding Cassie Crazy Page 23

  (Clears her throat, and looks to Mr Thompson, who nods wisely.)

  The Year 10 form mistress at our school believes that she should be entitled to check through the girls’ personal papers for evidence to this effect. The girls themselves deny the charge and think that she should not be allowed to look through their papers. The Year 10 form mistress will speak first, and then Emily Thompson will speak on behalf of the girls.

  Please thank Mr Thompson here on my right, who is acting as our legal consultant, and also thank Bindy Mackenzie, who is typing up the transcript today.

  Mr Thompson: She types very quickly, doesn’t she?

  Judge Anderson: She types like the wind!

  Emily: She’s not that fast.

  Mr Thompson: Yes she is. Look at her.

  (Pause as he people on stage watch Bindy Mackenzie, typing like the wind, typing like a tidal wave, typing up a storm—while parents and students in the audience talk amongst themselves.)

  Judge Koutchavalis: (talking into the microphone again) We will begin by inviting Mrs Lilydale, the Year 10 form mistress, to address the Court. (More quietly, to Mr Thompson)

  How’s it going so far?

  Mr Thompson: Excellent.

  (Mrs Koutchavalis smiles proudly.

  Mrs Lilydale stands up, coughs and says an experimental ‘ahem’. A small pause.

  A couple of students in audience begin applauding, and making loud, ironic comments such as, ‘What a speech’, and ‘That was a great point, that second thing she said’ and ‘You tell ’em Lily’, as if to indicate that the speech is over now. Parents frown and say ‘shhh!’)

  Mrs Lilydale: (ignoring students) I will be very brief. Your honours (turning to the two judges and putting on a sort of little girl’s voice), your honours, I am the Year 10 form mistress.

  Judge Koutchavalis: You certainly are.

  Mrs Lilydale: (clears her throat again) As such, I have responsibility for the wellbeing of the students of Year 10.

  Student in audience: (putting on sincere voice) Thank you, Mrs Lilydale.

  Mrs Lilydale: (ignoring student) In the last week, the education of Year 10 has been in serious jeopardy.

  (Students in audience break into spontaneous applause, cheering etc, presumably in support of the detriment to their education; parents ‘tch’ at their children.)

  Mrs Lilydale: (over the cheers) It is vital, for the wellbeing of our schools, that the people who are organising these attacks be apprehended. We have a witness who saw three girls at Brookfield carrying out a prank. We have the same three girls missing from their Maths class. Yet the girls themselves refuse to confess to this! What are we to think? Are they guilty or not? One way we can make sure is to look through their personal papers—if there is no mention of their attacks on Brookfield, there may be some doubt! If there is mention, then the issue will be resolved. The girls refuse to allow us to read their papers. This makes it even more likely that they are guilty, and gives us even more reason to read their papers. (She holds up both hands and looks around the audience, as if waiting for applause. There is silence; some parents are nodding.)

  Judge Koutchavalis: Well, thank you, Mrs Lilydale. Do you have anything to say, Mr Anderson, excuse me, Judge Anderson?

  Judge Anderson: As deputy principal of Brookfield, I’m obviously keen to track down the culprits. But Mrs Lilyfield, what do you have to say about these girls’ right to privacy?

  Mrs Lilydale: It’s ‘dale’, actually. Not ‘field’. Lilydale.

  (Judge Anderson tilts his head to the side, as if he finds Mrs Lilydale a little curious. She continues.) Privacy is well and good. But the time comes when the safety of two entire schools must be put ahead of three students’ privacy in whatever they might have scribbled. Now is that time.

  Judge Koutchavalis: Thank you, Mrs Lilydale. You may sit down. I am sure the people here are considering your words carefully.

  (She looks to the audience where some people shrug slightly. Others frown. Somebody sighs, deeply. A sniff from the audience. A single cough. Someone says ‘ow’ and someone, somewhere, whispers that they are very hungry. Another voice offers some chewing gum. The first voice says, ‘That won’t help.’ Another voice says, ‘There’s a spider on the wall.’ Another voice says, ‘No, that’s just the tassel from the curtain.’ ‘No, it’s not.’ ‘Yes—’)

  Emily: (standing in her place) Before Mrs Lilydale sits down, I want to cross-examine her.

  (General shouts of approval and some of unexpected sexual innuendo from the students in the audience. Is cross-examining Mrs Lilydale something sexual? I cannot understand it.)

  Mrs Lilydale: Is that allowed? Can she cross-examine me?

  Mr Thompson: Absolutely.

  Judge Koutchavalis: All right, I don’t see why not.

  Emily: Mrs Lilydale, you want to read our private diaries and letters, right?

  Mrs Lilydale: Right.

  Emily: And you think you should be allowed this because you have evidence that we went to Brookfield yesterday afternoon, right?

  Mrs Lilydale: Right.

  Emily: And the only evidence you have against us is a Brookfield student who says he saw us there yesterday afternoon, right?

  Mrs Lilydale: All right.

  Emily: And you won’t tell us this Brookfield student‘s name?

  Mrs Lilydale: That’s right. We agreed to protect his identity.

  Emily: Why?

  Mrs Lilydale: Well, obviously, there is much hostility between the two schools so we need to protect him from that hostility and —

  Emily: Because Ashbury students could not be trusted to be nice to this Brookfield student?

  Mrs Lilydale: Precisely.

  Emily: Ashbury students are so mad at Brookfield students that they might attack this boy, if they know he has told on Ashburians?

  Mrs Lilydale: Exactly.

  Emily: Ashbury students might attack this boy physically or they might, let’s say, insult him or they might even start telling lies about him?

  Mrs Lilydale: Right.

  Emily: They might, even, let’s say, accuse him of doing something he didn’t do?

  Mrs Lilydale: I suppose—well, hang on there—(There is a ripple of excitement from the audience as people realise where she is heading.)

  Emily: Mrs Lilydale! Don’t Brookfielders hate us as much as we hate them? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BELIEVE THIS BROOKFIELD BOY WHEN HE IS SAYING SOMETHING MEAN ABOUT ASHBURY GIRLS?!!

  Mrs Lilydale: (says nothing, just gapes a bit)

  Judge Anderson: (aside, to Judge Koutchavalis) She makes a good point, but our witness is fairly reliable, you know.

  Mrs Lilydale: Well, this so-called Brookfield boy knew your names and described you in detail!

  Emily: And yet we are not allowed to know anything about him! How did he know our names, for an example, when we hardly know anyone at Brookfield? Why did he see us if nobody else saw us? How is his eyesight? IS HE BLIND? FOR ALL WE KNOW, HE COULD BE BLIND!?!?!

  (Mrs Lilydale gives a little frowning shrug, as if all of this is silly—but Emily is correct. What if he has some sort of perceptual shortcoming? The audience is really excited now, leaning forward, whispering, listening, nodding to each other.)

  Emily: Another thing: do you agree that yesterday, you put a message on our Year 10 noticeboard that said ‘OUR SCHOOL IS IN SERIOUS DANGER’?

  Mrs Lilydale: I wouldn’t have a clue.

  Emily: Well, would you have a look at this please, see where it’s highlighted in pink?

  Mr Thompson: (leaning forward with interest) Let the record show that Em is showing Mrs Lilydale a piece of paper. (For the record, Em is showing Mrs Lilydale a piece of paper.)

  Emily: It’s the notice from yesterday.

  Mrs Lilydale: All right then, I see that I did say that.

  Emily: And would you agree that people who read that the school was in serious danger might be afraid that the school was in serious danger?

  Mrs Lilydale: Excuse
me?

  Mr Thompson: The question was perfectly clear.

  Mrs Lilydale: All right.

  Emily: And do you think that someone spray-painting our classroom walls puts the school in serious danger?

  Mrs Lilydale: Well, no, but—

  Emily: (fiery-eyed) Just answer the question, Mrs Lilydale!

  Mrs Lilydale: You can’t talk to me . . . Okay. No.

  Emily: (dramatically) So, wasn’t it false for you to say that the school was in danger?

  Mrs Lilydale: Well, but—

  Emily: So, it was false!

  Mrs Lilydale: Oh, for heaven’s sake.

  Emily: (lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper) What would you say if I told you that, under section 93IH of the Crimes Act 1900, New South Wales, it is illegal to say that a school is in danger if that is not true (long pause). And what would you say if I told you that the maximum penalty for this crime is five years in prison!!!!

  (There is a great uproar of cheering, applauding, stamping, hysterical laughter, from, I should say, both parents and students—offers from students to phone the police—offers from humorous parents to make a citizen’s arrest—) (Once it is has quieted down a bit.)

  Mrs Lilydale: Emily Thompson, that is nonsense. I had every reason to believe that the school was in danger and—

  Emily: (interrupting her, and walking away theatrically, so that she can read the transcript over Bindy’s shoulder) But, Mrs Lilydale, didn’t you just say—? Hey, Bindy’s putting all kinds of adjectives in the transcript!

  Mr Botherit: (leaning forward from the back row) What do you mean when you say ‘adjectives’?

  Emily: She’s putting things in there like ‘lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper’ and ‘walking away theatrically’.

  Mr Botherit: I don’t think those are all adjectives.

  Ms Yen: It can’t hurt, can it? It will make the transcript more entertaining.

  Judge Koutchavalis: Well, I don’t know if that’s normal is it, Mr Thompson?

  Mr Thompson: I’m pretty sure it’s not normal. Of course, just between you and me, I’m a tax lawyer. I haven’t been in a courtroom for years. But I’m pretty sure it’s not normal.

  Judge Koutchavalis: (bossily) Bindy? Can you stop typing in those descriptive bits?

  Mr Pappo: They’re adverbs, aren’t they?

  Mr Botherit: I would call them ‘adverbial phrases’.

  Mr Thompson: (looking over at Bindy) She’s really a very fast typist.

  Emily: She’s not that fast.

  Judge Koutchavalis: You should get on with your cross-examination, Em.

  Emily: I’ve finished, haven’t I? I proved that Mrs Lilydale is a criminal.

  Judge Koutchavalis: Order, everyone! Order! (The general clamour begins to subside.) Please show some respect, Emily.

  Emily: Sorry. But I haven’t actually finished.

  Judge Anderson: (enjoying himself) Go ahead.

  Emily: And to conclude, I will now read out a short declaration that I have written this afternoon, in some hastefulness. (Reading:)We were dismayed to be accused of a crime that we DID NOT COMMIT. We bet a million dollars that if we could just find out who the so-called witness was we could prove that he is making it up.

  But, let me tell you, we were even MORE dismayed when the teachers went through our lockers. That was a terrible invasion of our privacy, and it would be an even worse invasion to read our letters and diaries. Mrs Lilydale thinks that our letters et cetera are just frivolous and that it does not matter if she reads them.

  But, I must say that I think our diaries, notebooks and letters are the most important things in our lives. Just about.

  Ladies and gentlemen, you might be thinking to yourself: why do I think that? So! I will tell you.

  When you are our age, you are thinking about many important things, such as who you are going to become. Maybe you have to choose subjects for ears 11 and 12, and those subjects will decide what you do at university, and that will change your life!

  When you are our age, you do not have much space to do this figuring out.

  So, where do you do all this thinking?

  Not when you talk to your parents: they have known you all your life and can’t really imagine you as a grown-up.

  No, it is only when you talk to yourself or when you talk to your friends.

  And the way that you really talk to yourself and your friends is through things like diaries and notebooks and letters.

  When you’re an adult you have so many private places to put things, for example homes and attics, filing cabinets and desk drawers.

  When you’re our age, you spend most of your life at school. And where can you put your diaries and notebooks and letters when you come to school? Nowhere. Except in your locker. That’s it.

  If you teachers go through our lockers, and read our notebooks et cetera, well, you know what you will be doing? You’ll be taking the fragile pieces of paper that decide who we are going to be—and you’ll be tearing them to shreds.

  In a metabolic sense, anyway.

  Excuse me. In a metaphoric sense, which means symbolic.

  And which is a lot more important than you think. In conclusion, it is wrong to get in trouble for something you didn’t do. But it is even more wrong for you to be able to read our private things.

  That concludes my declaration. However, I have attachments that I will now hand up to the judges, and which I have taken from a folder of material belonging to Cass Aganovic’s mother.

  Attached and marked with the letter ‘A’ are copies of Articles 16 and 40 of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, which say that children have the right to privacy.

  Attached and marked with the letter ‘B’ are copies of cases from around the world in which teenagers are given privacy protection, even in their lockers. Attached and marked with the letter ‘C’ is a copy of the notice that Mr Botherit, our English teacher, put up on the noticeboard at the beginning of the autumn term, and which specifically said that our letters to Brookfield would be ‘completely confidential’.

  (Emily takes a deep breath, hands over a pile of papers to the judges, and sits back down next to me. She reads over my shoulder, so she can see how her speech looked.

  There is general silence—a sort of rippling of disbelief from the stage and across the hall—‘Was that really Emily Thompson?’ is the impression I get from the rippling.)

  Emily: Bindy’s doing the adjectives again.

  Bindy: They’re not adjectives.

  Emily: YOU CAN’T SPEAK AND TYPE AT THE SAME TIME, BINDY.

  Bindy: Watch me.

  (Note that the above exchange between Emily and Bindy was drowned out by the sound of the entire assembly hall beginning to clap and stamp their feet.)

  Emily: (returning to the microphone) And anyway, our private papers don’t have any evidence at all of our attacking Brookfield. They might have evidence of other wrongful conduct by us, but—

  Mr Thompson: Objection!

  Judge Koutchavalis: On what basis?

  Mr Thompson: She’s shooting herself in the foot. (Emily sits back down again.)

  Judge Koutchavalis: Is everybody finished?

  Emily: Yes.

  Mrs Lilydale: Well, I rather think that I should be entitled to—

  Mr Thompson: You’ve had your turn.

  Judge Koutchavalis: (to Judge Anderson) Then we should make a decision I suppose—shall we have a little chat?

  (Whispering between the two judges, which presumably should not be typed, although if I just lean over slightly, I can ALMOST hear—)

  Judge Koutchavalis: Ladies and gentleman, we have reached a decision. Although it does seem quite likely that these girls were involved in attacks on Brookfield, there is a right way to go about dealing with that. The teachers will discuss the right way in private. But, in the meantime, nobody should be allowed to read their private things.

  Mr Thompson: As adviser, I must say you have
given the correct decision.

  Mr Pappo: You know, it occurs to me that Mr Thompson might be a biased adviser. Can that be allowed?

  Emily: Why is he speaking? Why is Mr Pappo speaking?

  Judge Koutchavalis: As I said, we agree with Emily. The girls should have their things returned to them at once.

  (Exuberant cheering and stamping in the audience.

  There is the noise of a speeding car just outside the assembly room! People hear it over their cheers and gasp a bit, as it seems to be very close. Squealing tyres, slamming car doors, rushing footsteps— the door bursts open—everyone looks up expectantly: it’s Cassie Aganovic! And she’s with two Brookfield boys. One of the Brookfield boys, dark-haired and rather sexy-looking, runs up the steps onto the stage, two steps at a time, and raises his eyebrows at the judges, indicating where Em and Lyd are sitting.)

  Judge Anderson: (grimly) Seb Mantegna.

  Seb Mantegna: (taking that as permission) Thanks. I won’t be a moment. (Goes over to Emily and Lydia and talks to them in whispers that I cannot hear.)

  Emily: (leaping to her feet and returning to the microphone) Ladies and gentlemen! Just finally, I have a few very interesting things to show you! (She beckons the other Brookfield boy, who runs up onto the stage, looking serious, carrying a large backpack.)

  Emily: First, I must show you some half-empty cans of RED SPRAY PAINT!

  (The other Brookfield boy takes three cans out of the backpack and holds them up, one at a time, like a sort of cooking show.)

  Emily: And now, I must show you some empty plastic bottles of grapeseed oil!

  (The audience looks bewildered. The teachers are beginning to reach towards Em, as if to gently lead her away from the microphone.)