Chapter Three – Last Day at School

He had learned ways to cope with teasing and bullying. There was a degree of safety in the familiar, the known, however unpleasant this had been. What new miseries might college bring? Matt felt his chest tighten at the thought of college. His discomfort drifted away quickly as he remembered that this day would be very different. He could hardly believe he’d agreed to meet Dylan after school and leave on the motorbike. Neither could his friends when he told them. This would be the most rebellious thing he had ever done.

The last school day was uneventful. Everyone, including his tormentors, had been preoccupied with plans for the coming holiday season. Matt had asked Dylan to meet him across the road from school, away from the inevitable bustle of the last day. In particular, he didn’t want any of his tormentors pushing in on his meeting with Dylan. When the bell rang, he hurried toward the school gates. He was so focused on crossing the road and avoiding any unwanted attention he failed to notice the crowd which had formed on the grass circle at the front of the school.

“MATT, MATT. Over here, man!” Jed looked wildly excited and was waving furiously. “Come here, man!”

Matt tentatively made his way to the crowd on the grass circle, the forbidden grass circle. The meticulously groomed grass circle that declared, ‘This school is in order and everyone knows the rules.’

But not today. In the middle of the grass circle was Dylan, sitting on the bike with arms folded. He had a very dark visor on and was ignoring both the kids milling around and a very annoyed looking teacher, the same teacher from the day before. Somehow Dylan looked impossibly relaxed, resting on the bike as if nothing was unusual in the slightest. As Matt drew close Dylan reached down and picked up a helmet from the ground and held it at arm’s length. Matt felt awkward and conscious of the stares. To his surprise he found it hard to walk normally. His legs felt funny and awkward. As he took the helmet he felt Dylan holding it tight and looked up. Dylan nodded slowly and deliberately. Matt knew what he meant. He had to do what he had agreed to. But could he? His heart pounded. Matt put the helmet on and slowly mounted the bike. He felt the engine burst into life beneath him. The teacher and other kids stepped back and waited, but the bike just sat there, burbling, waiting to do what it was made to do. Matt looked down and could see Dylan looking at him in the mirror. The bike issued a short impatient roar and Matt knew this was a prompt for him. His time had come, this was the moment the new Matt stepped up. Slowly he looked around at the onlookers, his stunned friends grinning insanely, the curious onlookers, the tormentors, the impatient teacher, and a montage of faces from the last two years of his life. He turned halfway around toward the onlookers and slowly raised his arm and stuck out his finger. He knew his friends wouldn’t mind, it wasn’t meant for them, they would know that. Matt counted slowly to three and turned back to face the front of the bike. He felt a tap on his knee, his cue to hold on. He gripped the seat with his knees, grabbed the bottom of Dylan’s jacket tightly, and held his breath.

The bike angrily spat and twitched. Slowly it began to move forward, the back wheel spinning on the grass, the sacred grass. The kids in front of the bike jumped back and made space. When they reached the concrete strip Dylan paused, gave the engine a sharp blast. Matt felt the rear tyre tearing at the concrete, leaving a little reminder, a tag.

Dylan looked up and down the road surveying the scene, he waited for a car to pass before rolling purposely, slowly, out onto the road like a plane lining up on a runway. The bike rolled forward, Dylan focused on the street ahead then gradually at first, the bike drew breath before lunging forward. Matt felt the thrill of acceleration, the blip of a gear change followed by a frightening rush of power. He felt the front wheel lifting as they launched down the road. Matt saw glimpses of astonished faces as they tore away from school. Once they were out of sight Dylan slowed down and rode cautiously through town, they both knew they had rolled the dice. Matt looked at the passing houses and wondered what his friends would be thinking now. He also wondered where Dylan was taking him. They weren’t heading to Art’s. Instead, they headed out of town and up the winding road that led over to the beach. Dylan slowed down as they reached the top of the hill and pulled over at a lookout. Matt stumbled when he climbed off the bike, to his surprise he found it hard to walk.

Dylan grinned at him. “The same thing happens to me sometimes.” He held out his hand, smiling, and as they shook he said, “Welcome to the holidays, buddy!”

Matt grinned back and walked over to the lookout platform and leaned on the wooden barrier. The sea was glistening in the sun.

‘Well. You’ve finished school in style! What are your holiday plans?” Dylan asked.

“Computer games with Jed,” suggested Matt, unconvincingly.

Dylan stared at Matt in silence for a few moments. Matt looked down and shuffled his feet in the gravel. “I’m going to be around for summer, perhaps we could do a few things.”

“Sure,” Matt replied.

“Let’s sit on the grass for a bit.”

Matt sat down alongside Dylan and followed his gaze out to sea. “What a stunning view,” said Dylan, “it doesn’t get any better anywhere else in the world.”

They sat for a few minutes, both looking out across the water. Matt watched the waves rolling slowly onto the beach below, too slowly it seemed, but they always did from this far away.

Dylan broke the silence. “Is there anything you’d like to do during the school break?”

“Not really,” replied Matt. He hadn’t even considered what he’d do, apart from getting away from school and keeping to himself and a couple of friends.

“Any idea what you want to do when you leave school, Matt?”

“Nup,” replied Matt.

“Me neither at your age. Apart from leaving town!”

“Yeah, me too,” agreed Matt.

“Do you have a bicycle?”

“Yep,” replied Matt. Although he hardly ever rode it. He was happy to walk and it was in a rather rough condition.

“Righty ho, let’s head back to Art’s and walk around to meet a friend of mine. I’m going to borrow a bike. We can go cycling.” With that Dylan rolled back onto his shoulders, thrust his legs hard into the air, and landed on his feet. He pushed his arms high above his head, stretching as he strode back to the motorbike.

“Set?” asked Dylan once Matt had climbed on to the bike.

“Yep.”

“Better be,” replied Dylan as he gave the engine a short sharp burst.

Once back at Art’s house Dylan changed into shorts and a tee-shirt. They were a lot rougher than the clothes he wore earlier.  “Drink, bathroom?” asked Dylan.

“All good,” Matt replied.

“Great, let’s go and meet Fuzz.”

It was a long walk across town, to a neighbourhood Matt did not frequent. It wasn’t dangerous as such, he just found it a bit intimidating. Some of the school bullies lived there and he had long ago decided to avoid passing through. It turned out that Fuzz lived in one of the most run-down houses. The grass was long, children’s clothes, toys, and junk mail lay discarded on the front lawn. The house paint was peeling, where there was paint. The roof gutters hung sadly with tufts of grass peeping out in places. Surely it would not be long before they fell off. A cat, which must have been watching them approach, burst out of a garden and ran around the side of the house.

Dylan banged loudly on the door. “It’s the police, please come out naked immediately,” he yelled.

There were noises from inside as someone made their way to the door, seemingly moving things out of their way. The door opened, a scruffy hairdo and bushy beard appeared.

“It’s a crime to impersonate the police you know,” said the bushy beard through a broad grin.

“Oh well,” replied Dylan, “let’s call the real ones.”

“No way, they’ll smoke all my gear,” came the reply.

The bushy beard withdrew into the house as the door swung open. Matt followed Dylan inside not knowing what to expect. However once inside he realised everything was as should be expected. It was dark, the curtains were closed, the floor, couch, and table were covered in clothing and rubbish. There was fast food packaging and, judging by the smell, fast food scattered around the room.

“Make a space to sit guys, eat anything you find. Nothing’s more than a month old.”

Dylan walked over to the bushy beard. “Hug me, baby.”

“I hope you don’t smell bad,” replied the bushy beard as they gripped each other in a bear hug.

Dylan, still with an arm over the bushy beard’s shoulder, turned to face Matt. “Hey, Fuzz, this is Matt. He’s Simon’s younger bro.”

“Simon the machine?” asked Fuzz.

“Simon the machine?” thought Matt with surprise, he’d never heard his brother called this.

“Good to meet you, Matt, we all went to school together.” Fuzz slapped Dylan enthusiastically on the back. “What the hell are you doing back here, Dyl?”

“Just taking a break before starting my corporate life,” replied Dylan, “I’ll be around for a couple of months.”

“Cool, what ya doing these days?”

“Lawyer,” replied Dylan.

“Crap bro, I was just about to offer you a smoke!” laughed Fuzz. “Matt, would you like a smoke?” Fuzz pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket.

Matt looked quizzically at Fuzz. Fuzz burst out laughing and threw the bag at Dylan. “Some papers on the table.”

“All good, Fuzz. Not today.”

“Sheez,” said Fuzz, shaking his head and looking at Matt. “He really must be a lawyer.”

Dylan turned to Matt. “Now you can’t know Fuzz without knowing why he’s called Fuzz. The reason this gentleman…”

“Gentleman?” exclaimed Fuzz, “I haven’t been called that in a while. Wait a second.” Fuzz rubbed his bearded chin, his eyes raised in contemplation, then very loudly. “I’ve never been called a gentleman!”

Fuzz and Dylan laughed loudly and Matt quietly joined in. Fuzz had a well-practised, clownish manner and Matt began to feel more comfortable. He leaned back into the chair, having decided to ignore the possibility he was sitting on old food.

“Well that’s likely true,” said Dylan. “The reason for the name Fuzz is that this dude had a beard from about age six.”

Fuzz laughed loudly. “Not quite,” he said.

“I can remember the very moment I wanted to be Fuzz’s friend,” Dylan continued. “A female teacher asked him if he was going to shave that ‘silly bit of fluff’ off his chin. He said ‘I’ll shave my fluff off if you do too, but I want to see the proof.’ Can you believe it? The whole class nearly fell out the window.” Dylan was laughing so hard he struggled to complete what he was saying. Fuzz was trying to reply, but he too was struggling to talk while laughing.

“Bastards caned me, good and proper,” said Fuzz finally while shaking his head. “So I shaved my fluff and every time the teacher asked me something I would rub my chin, with a big smile of course.”

Again Dylan and Fuzz laughed and laughed. Matt laughed too. He tried to imagine this happening in his class, but couldn’t. There was surely no one in his class so cheeky.

“And I can remember the very moment when I wanted to become Dyl’s friend,” began Fuzz.

Dylan raised his hand.

“Shush you, he can hear both stories,” continued Fuzz while waving his finger at Dylan. “We had this dude teacher, he was cruel. Would put you down, make you feel stupid, just for fun. We hated his guts. He used slides on his laptop during class and one day just as we were arriving, he was stepping out for a bit. So Dyl goes to his computer and wadda you know he hasn’t logged off. So Dyl starts fiddling around with his computer, now I had no idea what Dyl was doing but…” Fuzz paused to laugh. “Let’s just say that a VERY interesting picture appeared halfway through class.”

Through more laughter, Dylan interjected, “It should be noted that I was sent to be caned too, Matt, so think carefully.”

“But you weren’t caned were you!” laughed Fuzz, “your mum came down and sorted them out.”

“Yep,” replied Dylan, “she sure did. Something about not teaching students that the female form was offensive.”

There was a brief silence once the laughing died down.

“What are you up to these days, Fuzz?” asked Dylan.

“Machine operator at the mill, well at least til they do drug tests.” Fuzz burst out laughing.

Dylan smiled. “Partner, family?”

“Little girl, Lucy, three. Stays on the weekends. The missus is back with her parents.” Fuzz tipped his head from side to side while thinking. “It works. How about you?”

“Single, no strings,” Dylan replied.

“Not for long now you’re a lawyer bro. They’ll be queuing up,” laughed Fuzz. “You know how it works, first G-strings then just strings.”

Dylan smiled. “No queue at present, but I’m working on it.”

“Hey, I’ll show you the bike.”

They walked out the back of the house to a wooden shed. The shed, as should be expected, was in a similar state to the house. Matt wondered if the only thing holding the shed up were the contents inside it.

“Haven’t ridden it in a while,” Fuzz said, “but she was all functional the last time I did.” He started dragging a bike out by the back wheel. There were clanging and banging sounds as various items fell to the floor. Eventually, the bike broke free and was dragged out for inspection. It was so dusty and covered in cobwebs it was hard to even know what colour it was. The bike almost looked like it was cringing in the sunlight.

“Well, that looks like a pretty darn good bike, Fuzz, awesome.”

“It was a good one when I got it. Bought it to ride to the mill when I started. There’s a pump on the floor, looks like you might need it.”

“Yep,” said Dylan as he bent down to pick up the pump. “Got a hose to blast off the cobwebs?”

“Yeah, bro. Over here.”

Dylan hosed the bike before brushing it with a broken broom head he had found in the shed. “Thank you so much, Fuzz, this will be perfect. Just needs a bit of love.”

“Be careful, the bike might get a fright if you do that,” laughed Fuzz, “and remember, if anyone says ‘hey that’s my bike’, you didn’t get it from me.”

Dylan gave Fuzz another big hug and slapped him on the back. “So good to see you, man. So good.”

“You too, bro. Stay in touch,” replied Fuzz, before turning to Matt. “Remember, bro, if anyone around here bothers you just let me know. That way I can avoid them and save my own ass.”

Fuzz slapped Matt on the back and they all laughed loudly. As they walked through the gate Dylan looked at Matt. “Let’s go past your place, we can chat on the way. I’m not going to try and ride this until I’ve had a closer look. The chain is pretty rusted up for starters. Let’s cut through here.”

Matt felt a tightness in his chest and an urge to walk another way. “Rooster lives on this street,” he said, with a slight quiver in his voice.

Dylan noted the quiver. “Rooster?”

“The boy who tripped me after school.”

“Oh, butt face, I remember him,” replied Dylan. “Which house?”

“Further up, there, the green one,” replied Matt pointing across the road, but without looking up.

Dylan stopped walking. “Seriously, that green one?” Dylan stood still, shaking his head and pushing his lips together. He took a big breath in and breathed out slowly, then in a calm, but serious tone he asked, “Does Rooster have an older brother? A really ugly one, could be mistaken for a donkey’s butt. About my age, but behaves like a three-year-old.”

“Yep,” replied Matt, mimicking Dylan’s tone and nodding his head. “Rooster’s always telling us he’s going to get his big brother to beat us up.”

Dylan shook his head and laughed quietly. “Oh boy, what a small world. Okay, Okay. Well, that’s made my day. Ha! It must be genetic. Donkey butt used to be a proper nuisance when I was at school.” Dylan shook his head, before quietly adding, “One more, Simon. One more.”

They walked slowly past the house and Dylan had a good long look. “Wonder if that’s his car?”

“One more what? What did this have to do with Simon?” Matt wondered to himself.

Dylan walked in silence for a while, before asking Matt, “By the way, Fuzz explained a very important thing to you today. Do you know what that was?”

“Don’t keep food in the fridge?” joked Matt.

“Well, I guess that would make feeding the cat easier. The lesson was ‘don’t use drugs’, got it?”

“Yep,” replied Matt.

There was another period of silence as Dylan reflected on what to say next. “Fuzz kept up with the rest of us until about halfway through college, before he disappeared into a cloud of smoke. To be fair he had a seriously mucked up home life. But others made it through. He’ll probably lose his job you know. Everyone’s moving to drug testing for jobs like his.”

“Bill says they’re going to start drug tests at the mill,” said Matt.

“Is Bill still an electrician there?” asked Dylan.

“Yep.”