My Story, 6

Part 6! You don’t know how lucky you are. Usually, I’d be sick of it by now.

I sat staring at his, (very cute), smiling face. Ever been lost for words? Yeah, me too. He was waiting for an answer, I had to say something.

“Umm, yeah.”

(Brilliant, eh? At least he didn’t stop smiling)

“Okay. Here we are then; let’s go in and enjoy it. They do great meals here. You hungry?”

“Bloody starving, actually.” I shrugged. “Let’s go eat.”

All right, I decided – I’d give him one more chance. But I wasn’t going to make it easy on him, I’d meet him halfway. Yeah, I know, I was easy. I know that now; but, what would you expect? I was a teenager, I was lonely and I was horny. I was hungry in more ways than one. That’s my excuse anyway. Dork!

We got out of the car, waited for the addicts to finish their nicotine hits, and then we all went into the restaurant. It was getting a bit chilly out there, Summer was definitely past its peak.

The place was crowded and very busy. Not every table was full, there were a few empty ones, more outside than in, but the bar was in there, between the dining area and the kitchens, and the floor area was chock-a-block full of people, milling around and talking, shouting, over the loud music. Hell must look something like that.

There were plenty of staff, mostly young guys, but they were all dashing around and dancing around each other behind the bar. There’s probably more money to be made from alcohol than food.

“Righto,” said Mr. Stafford, playing the host, which was fair enough really – he was paying for all this. “What is everyone having to drink?”

“I’ll have a beer, thanks Dick,” my mum replied. “Steinlager, if they’ve got it.”

(Told you that she was all class; or was that Gran? They’re both all class.)

“I could murder a Jack Daniels on ice,” Joel grinned.

“I’ll murder you if you do.” His father was not grinning. “You can have a raspberry and coke. Virgil, what do you want to drink?”

“I don’t. Can’t we just sit down and eat?”

“Patience, Boy, patience. I’ll get some drinks in, why don’t you all find a table somewhere? Outside would be nice.”

“It would not!” I protested. “I’m not sitting outside, it’s cold out there.”

“Cold? Fair enough. Find a table inside then.”

“Come on, Boys,” Mum said. “Let’s have a look upstairs. Maybe it’s not so crowded up there.”

It was a conspiracy! Everyone was being nice to Virgil, for once. Mr. Stafford went to the bar, pushing his way through the crowd. It must be nice, sometimes, to be all big and bulging with muscles. I’ll never know.

We followed Mum up to the top floor. The stairs were full of people too, but we got there. It was better up there, not so crowded, not quite as loud, and there were plenty of empty tables.

We took one by the windows looking out across the Bay. The lights of the towns of Mapua and Motueka twinkled out there, away over the far side.

I pulled a chair out for Mum, because I’m a gentleman. Yeah, I’ve got good manners, when I want to. Not sure where that came from, certainly not from my elders.

“Thank you, Honey.” Mum smiled and sat down.

Joel gave me a strange look, and then he grinned and pulled a chair out for me. I just scowled at him as I sat down. Fuck ‘im anyway.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Mum was as determined to enjoy this evening as I was not to. “Let’s just see what’s on the menu, shall we?”

She picked up the laminated menu-cards, handed us one each and we sat studying them. There was no sign of any waitresses. You’d be hard-pressed to complain about the service in that place – there wasn’t any. I couldn’t for the life of me see what made it so popular. Just because it was trendy, I guess.

Did I mention what the music that they had playing, (loudly!), was? No? It was crappy old-people’s music – Solid Gold, Classic Hits kind of stuff. And, if you like that sort of crap, well, sue me – I don’t. Maybe I do now, some of it, but I didn’t then. They were even playing the Beachboys, for pity’s sake. Did cavemen have surfboards?

You know something funny about the Beachboys? They made all that surfing music, and they weren’t even surfers! Well, except for one of them. Dennis was a surfer and he drowned – in a swimming pool! So the story goes anyway. My gran told me that and she’d know, she was there, kind-of. She was ‘there’ when she wasn’t out of it, that is. No – wait a minute, my gran’s not even old enough to remember the 1960’s!

“Well, Joel?” Mum smiled, playing the lady. “Do you see anything you like?”

“I do.” The cheeky sod glanced at me. “But it’s not on the menu.”

“If it’s not on the menu, then you’re not getting it!” I scowled.

Mum frowned. I didn’t want to know what she was thinking. “”Don’t be grumpy, Honey. What are you going to have?”

“I’ll have fish.” I pushed the card back to her.

“Very funny. Every meal is fish. Have you decided which one?”

“Just get me the most expensive. No, seriously, I’ll have the Fisherman’s Basket.”

“The Fisherman’s Basket? Where’s that?” She peered at the menu. She really should have had her glasses on, but she was too vain for that. “Oh yeah. Good choice. You’ll get a little bit of everything. Do you want fries or salad with that?”

“Mum! I’ll have both, of course.”

“Of course! Joel?”

“I think I’ll have a Whaleburger.”

“A Whaleburger?”

“Yeah. Biggest burgers in town. They’re great.”

“You’ve eaten here before, have you?”

“A few times. It’s not cheap, but it’s worth it.”

“Come here with all your dad’s girlfriends, do you?” I smiled sweetly.

“And my boyfriends.” He grinned back.

“You should’ve brought one then.” I turned to look out of the window. To hell with him, he shouldn’t say things like that in front of my mum.

“Here we are then.” Mr. Stafford put a tray of drinks in the centre of the table, and he sat down. “Two Steinlagers and two large raspberry and cokes. Everybody happy, are we?”

“Thanks, Dick. That’s great.” Mum took a bottle with its upended glass, passed his one to him and pushed the tray to me.

“Thanks, I guess.” I took mine and passed the tray to Joel. I should explain here that the table, where we were sitting, was a small natural-wood one, rectangular in shape. Joel and I were opposite each other, sitting next to the windows. Stafford senior sat next to me and opposite Mum, near the aisle. Got that? Good, it’s important.

“Has everybody decided what they’re having?” He and Mum made their choices and they ordered when the waitress, (finally!), showed up.

Mr. Stafford tried his drink, and then focused on me. “How’s it going, Virgil?”

“I’m okay. But, I just want to say right now, that if someone doesn’t stop playing ‘footsie’ with me, they’re going to get a good swift kick.

The mysterious foot touching me under the table withdrew quickly. Somebody was teasing me, I honestly don’t know whether it was Mum, (I wouldn’t put it past her), or Joel, (I wouldn’t put it past him either). I still don’t know who it was, I’ve never asked.

He hadn’t finished with me yet. “You’ve had 2 weeks now, at your new school. What do you think of it so far?”

“What? You’re joking, right? What do you think I think of it? I hate the fucking place!”

“Virgil, watch your language!” Mum snapped. If she thought she was going to play authority-figure, it was a bit late now.

“It’s okay, ‘Tash,” he kept smiling. “I did ask.” Who was this guy? He looked like our creepy PE teacher, but he sure didn’t sound like him.

“You’re not happy there then?”

“You could say that.”

“It’s early days yet. It takes a while to settle in sometimes. Your mum says that you were a keen sportsman at your old school?”

“Yeah, kind-of. I was never that good at games, but I enjoyed them.”

“As you should. Don’t you think that you’d like your new school more, and fit in better, if you gave sports a try?”

“Oh sure! That’d be so much fun – getting punched and kicked and tripped by a bunch of country-hicks. Why don’t I try that?”

“You don’t know that that would happen. You haven’t been anywhere near the sportsfield.”

“I do know that that would happen, and that’s why I haven’t. I’m not going to either.”

“How do you know?”

“How? Easy. I’m not stupid. I get nothing but foul-mouthed abuse all day long. If you think that I’m going to give them a chance to get physical with it, you can think again – I’m not.”

“Are you scared of your classmates, Virgil?”

“Hello? Are you listening to me? I stood up to you, didn’t I? I might be stuck in classes with them, but they are not my mates. I’m not scared of any of the jerks, if they were on their own. But they’re not on their own and I am. How would you like odds of about 30 to 1 against you?”

“I wouldn’t like that; not at all.”

(He was doing well, wasn’t he? He had to really; he wasn’t going to impress his date by exploding at her son.) I decided to go easy on him for a bit.

“Can we talk about something else? Anything but school. You know how I feel about it, let’s leave it at school.”

“We will soon. I’m trying to understand your situation so that we can help you. What sort of names do they call you?”

“Oh, you know. Just the usual – Faggot, Cock-Sucker, Fudge-Packer, that sort of thing.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yes! It’s really that bad; all day, everyday. Don’t tell me to get my hair cut. I’ve never had a hair-cut in my life and I’m not starting now.”

“I wouldn’t do that. Your hair is your business, and nobody else’s.” (Wow! He just went up in my estimation. Top marks, that man!) “Is that why the kids started calling you, Faggot – because of your hair?”

“No, that’s not why. My hair’s got nothing to do with it.”

“What started the name-calling then??”

“Wrong question, Mr. Stafford. It’s not what, it’s who started it?”

In saying that, I looked directly at Joel, who immediately turned bright-red. Don’t tell me, I know I can be a mean little shit sometimes, but he asked for it. No-one hurts me like he did and gets away with it. Revenge is sweet.

“Joel??” Everyboy’s friend suddenly became the stern father. He was awesome, scary too. “Are you responsible for what is happening to this boy?”

I’ve never seen anyone stop blushing as fast as he did. He just switched instantly to a whiter shade of pale, and he actually started sweating. Damm! Cocky Joel Stafford was terrified of his father.

‘Okay, too far, Virgil.’ I had to help him before he died of fright.

“They all started it, Mr. Stafford. I just arrived there, I hadn’t even opened my mouth, someone made a nasty comment and it spread like wildfire, and it hasn’t stopped. They’re all doing it. Joel said that he’s going to stop them.”

“I see.” The Fierce Father settled down. “Pleased to hear that. I’m proud of you, Son. Virgil, why haven’t your teachers put a stop to it already?”

Mum interrupted, “He said that they all grin and look the other way.”

“They WHAT?” Mr. Stafford was the one all red in the face now. He really did have a short wick. And he was scary. I’d think twice before I defied him again. Okay, I wouldn’t, but you know what I mean. Awesome.

“Virgil, you will find some changes when you return to school on Monday. We will all be watching out for you an, if there is any further trouble, those responsible will be expelled – and that includes the staff.”

“Wow! Thanks, but can you do that?”

“You’d be surprised what the District Chairman of the Teacher’s Union can do. The meals are coming; let’s enjoy them and have a pleasant evening.”

While the waitresses were loading the table up with the huge meals, I looked across and winked at Joel. He grinned back and held out his hand, which I shook. I think that I just saved his life. Maybe we could be friends after all? Also, maybe it wasn’t so bad, having no father and just a couple of ditzy females for parents. You never really know what goes on behind closed doors, do you??