Spud Read online

  2 Rape and Escape Method

  Boggo says this is when you grab her tits and run like hell.

  Thursday 30th May

  One day until Long Weekend.

  There was a notice on the house noticeboard that read:

  Witness Fatty’s first Hotdog time trial absolutely live.

  WHERE 2nd Years prep classroom

  WHEN 20:30

  COVER CHARGE R2 (CRAZY EIGHT & PREFECTS FREE)

  20:30 Mad Dog’s gas cooker kept the sausages warm and Boggo had spent the entire prep buttering rolls and working out how much profit he would make. Mad Dog had stolen a bottle of tomato sauce from the dining hall and a jar of mustard from the staffroom. Fatty sat behind a desk in the middle of the classroom and around him chairs had been set up in circular rows. The turnout was excellent and about forty of us crowded around and cheered Fatty on as he wolfed down twelve hotdogs before Boggo told him to stop. Everyone booed because we wanted to see how many Fatty could eat before he exploded or vomited.

  Boggo shook his head and shouted, ‘We’re not trying to break any records yet, guys! This was just a test run. But I’m sure you’ll agree that our eating champ is looking in ravenous form.’ Everyone clapped and whistled. Fatty let rip with a loud and foul smelling burp and everyone cheered and then charged for the door. And to think other schools call us snobs?

  Friday 31st May

  LONG WEEKEND

  I haven’t seen the folks for over a month. It was great to see them both waiting for me at the bus stop. Unfortunately, Dad had parked in the middle of the bus parking bay so there was a lot of hooting and reversing and manoeuvring before the school bus finally came to a halt. My parents started sniffing and wiping away tears when I walked up to them. Mom told me I’d grown and Dad said I was looking like a real man. I quickly got in the car in case they started asking me personal questions. Mom jumped in the back seat with me which was a bit embarrassing and explained for the tenth time that she finds it too emotional to come up for rugby matches and then leave me again and she won’t let Dad come by himself in case he gets out of hand.

  MILTON NEWS

  Our house is on the market. Dad said nothing but gave me an ‘over my dead body’ look. We are having a Show Day on Sunday, which means that people can legally walk around my room and look in my cupboards.

  Wombat has booked us into the Kensington Palace Hotel for just about our entire stay in London. According to Wombat, Princess Diana lives next door and the Queen visits regularly. (Not sure why the Princess is living next door to a hotel?)

  Innocence has bought a car, which she’s parked under the acacia tree. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know how to drive so it hasn’t left the Milton yard in three weeks. Dad has been grumbling that his servant has a better car than he does.

  Blacky has been threatened with a fate worse than death after releasing a series of prisoners on the concrete around the pool. Mom reckons the poor animal gets stressed by the Kreepy Krauly. Dad reckons shock treatment is the only way to sort Blacky out but Mom has thus far refused to let Dad throw Blacky head first into the electric fence.

  Mom went off to make lunch and Dad pulled out a huge pile of papers from a shabby old briefcase. He laid them carefully out in front of me before leaning back in his chair saying, ‘Johnny, I think it’s time you thought about death.’

  I told my father that seeing as though I only had a few days’ holiday I would rather think about life instead. Dad snapped his fingers and pulled out another pile of yellow papers. He dropped them in front of me and prodded them with a greeny fingernail. ‘Life!’ he said, and sat back triumphantly in his seat. Then he leant forward, picked up his pen and asked me how much money I had in my building society account.

  ‘About three hundred and fifty rand,’ I replied. Dad looked grim and his pen hovered shakily above a pale green form. He then shook his head like I had just betrayed him and told me I was practically broke and that we’d discuss life and death again when I left school. He stuffed all his forms and papers back in his bag, spent the next ten minutes looking at his car keys and then left without saying where he was going.

  I asked Mom why Dad was selling life and death policies if he was still making money out of the moonshine. She said Dad was only getting a fraction of what he was making when Innocence was selling booze and brewing from home.

  Dad returned about an hour later smelling of booze. He said he’d been taking stock and that he’s already sold death policies to Wombat and Frank and that his business is on the up. He apologized for being angry earlier, poured himself a whisky and then showed me something called a spreadsheet that proved that he could be a millionaire in five years. Mom then arrived with egg sandwiches that still had half their shells on. I told Mom I wasn’t hungry and went to my room.

  I waited until the folks had settled down for their afternoon nap and then slipped out of the house and unchained my bike in the garage. I freewheeled quietly down the driveway hoping for a quick getaway. Unfortunately a black shape tore round the side of the house barking and snarling at my wheels. I tried to shush Blacky but he kept barking at my front wheel and running around in circles in a state of great agitation.

  There was a loud shout of ‘Voetsek!’ from my parents’ bedroom. Blacky was now barking even louder so I jumped off my bike and laid it down on the grass, hoping it would calm Blacky down. It didn’t help. There was another shout from the bedroom window. ‘Stop teasing the bloody thing! It’s Friday afternoon, for God’s sakes!’ I shouted back that I was just trying to go for a ride and that Blacky was behaving strangely. There was a pause and then Mom called, ‘Just kick him in the balls!’ I managed to sneak out of the gate and then steam off down the road, leaving Blacky and Dad to sort it out between them.

  Mermaid was home. At one stage I heard her speaking, but I never got to see her. There was no sign of the white Golf. After spending an hour crouched in her garden hedge, my leg started cramping so I gave up and headed for home.

  Saturday 1st June

  Fatty called at 7am to say that he had tickets for the Currie Cup rugby match at Kings Park. Natal vs Western Province. Dad was so thrilled that Fatty was coming to pick me up that he charged off to the café for charcoal and Blitz. I tried to tell him that Fatty was just picking me up and not coming for lunch, but he was already reversing the station wagon down the driveway with Blacky’s head hanging out the passenger door window. When Dad got back half an hour later Mom tried to explain to Dad that Fatty wasn’t coming to eat. Dad shot her a nasty look and cried, ‘He’s practically the bloody finest boerewors eater in Natal! And besides he told me my boerewors was the best he’d tasted. And that was on my skottel!’ I didn’t think this was the time to tell Dad that Fatty tells everybody that they’re the best cook in the world. Fatty calls this form of lying ‘good karma’.

  Dad made me stand at the gate and shout as soon as I saw Fatty’s mom’s car coming down the road so that he could throw a roll of boerie on the fire. In my half hour of waiting around at the gate I came to realize that Blacky is a complete racist. He barks savagely at any black person who walks past and then wags his tail and yaps like a Maltese when white people stroll by. Clearly he’s been spending too much time with Dad. I had a terrible image of Blacky attacking Luthuli in front of me. Like a master of psychology I turned Blacky’s brain upside down by shouting at him when he barked at black people and surreptitiously whispering ‘Sssa! Sssa!’ when a white person approached. Unfortunately, Blacky didn’t make much progress in his first session.

  12:30 Fatty’s mom is very large. She smokes all the time and judging by the amount of wool on the back seat does a fair amount of knitting too. I shouted to Dad that Fatty had arrived. I heard some wild shouting and then a call for ‘Water!’ I told Fatty that my dad was cooking him lunch. A huge smile spread across his face. He then turned to his mom and said, ‘Back in a sec, Ma.’ Fatty’s mom nodded and lit a cigarette.

  Dad was thrilled to see Fatty although he w
as very disappointed that Fatty’s mom wanted to stay outside in her car on the road and not join in with the braai. Dad shook Fatty’s hand twice and offered him a beer. Fatty blushed and opted for a Coke. Dad ordered Mom to get the drink and then congratulated Fatty on making it to the Royal Show before shaking his hand a third time. Fatty sat on a sturdy chair and said, ‘Mr Milton, I have never tasted boerewors as fine as that day at the cricket.’ Dad waved his hand and blushed before saying, ‘Ag, I’m not one of those guys who get all finicky about it.’ (Dad has been marinading the boerewors in a secret sauce concoction since 07:30 this morning.)

  After twenty minutes of non-stop talk about boerewors, lunch was served. Dad seemed a bit disappointed that Fatty only ate four wors rolls but cheered up when Fatty called his mystery basting sauce ‘classic’. Dad then sprinted down the driveway with two wors rolls and said he was going to give them to Mrs Fatty.

  13:20 Fatty’s mom’s car was parked under a tree across the road. We found her reclining in the driver’s seat listening to Radio Port Natal and knitting what looked to be an enormous blanket, but turned out to be a school jersey for Fatty. The weird thing was that Mrs Fatty seemed quite happy waiting for an hour under the tree across the road from my house. Once we had driven off Fatty burped loudly and said that Dad’s boerewors rolls tasted weird. Fatty’s mom glanced across at her son and said, ‘Sidney, how many times do I have to tell you to open the window when you do that. This car smells like a frigging abattoir!’ Fatty apologised, opened his window and started noshing another boerewors roll. We drove to Kings Park in complete silence apart from the sound of loud chewing and the tinny music being played on RPN.

  I thanked Fatty’s mom for the lift but she didn’t appear to have heard me. Instead she fished out some money from the cubbyhole, handed it to Fatty and said, ‘Don’t be a pig.’ Fatty laughed, gave his mom a kiss on the cheek and slammed the door.

  The game was really exciting although Natal lost quite badly in the end. There was a man sitting in the seat behind me who reckoned the ref was cheating. He stood up after the game and said that Vleis Visagie (who plays for Natal) could marry his daughter, but he’s not letting Hugh Reece-Edwards (Natal fullback) anywhere near his son. Some other guy in a yellow windcheater joined in the debate and shouted out in a very la-di-dah accent, ‘Bring back Penrose, I say!’ The drunken man behind me shouted, ‘Stuff Penrose!’ before lurching down the stairs and disappearing into the crowd.

  After the game Fatty said we had to go to Rovers for the party. We walked across fields of parked cars and then found ourselves at the Rovers clubhouse. The adults all hung around the bar while the field was covered with teenagers. Even better news was that there were by far more girls than boys. Fatty bought us a ginger beer each and we sat on the bank eyeing out the passing trade. We spoke about girls and then rugby and then girls again… Eventually we ran out of conversation altogether and sat silently on the bank watching the pretty girls walking past. I was just starting to get really irritated with the sound of Fatty chewing on his straw when he removed the straw from his mouth, pointed across the field and said, ‘Check, Spud, it’s your ex squeeze.’ I followed his podgy finger across the field of people and my eyes came to rest on a girl with red hair facing away from us. It wasn’t Amanda – she’d never be caught dead at Rovers. Fatty shook his head and pointed again. ‘No, man, over there. Long blonde hair… the Mermaid.’

  My heart was pounding but my eyes couldn’t focus. All I could see was blonde girls everywhere. Then BANG! there she was, standing near the hockey goalposts with three other girls. I realized I was creeping backwards up the bank in fear. Fatty sniggered at me and told me to go and talk to her. I told him I needed the toilet. What I really needed was time to think and make a plan. After pretending to slash behind a bush I told Fatty that I needed a way in. It would be way too embarrassing to just walk up to her and start a conversation. Besides she’s the one who dumped me so she should be making all the moves.

  Fatty then had a brainwave. He would walk past Mermaid and say hello and then tell her that I was across the field. By that stage I would have joined a group of hot girls to make Mermaid think that I’m a real stud and scoring a whole group of girls at once. This would hopefully make her jealous and try and kiss me. Fatty set off at a loping run and soon he was chatting to the Mermaid and pointing towards me across the field. I sidled up to a group of girls who didn’t seem to notice that I was there. After a while they began to start looking at me and whispering to themselves. I looked down and pretended to be thinking deeply. Then I heard one girl say ‘Weirdo’ and another say ‘What a loser.’ Then they were gone and I realized that I was an island in a sea of empty space. I looked around frantically for a group I could attach myself to. And there she was, standing there. The Mermaid was smiling at me.

  I stammered out a ‘Hi.’ She said hi back. At that moment I realized that Fatty was also standing next to me. His mouth was open and he was staring at Mermaid’s breasts with his eyes all glazed over. The idiot got everything right except for the part about leaving me alone with the Mermaid. My brain felt frozen and my tongue as thick as a pork sausage. Mermaid looked so beautiful. I looked at her and realized why we could never be together. She’s a beauty queen and I’m just plain old Spud Milton, the laughing stock of my dormitory. I must be raving mad to think that I have a shot with her.

  ‘Good game, hey?’ That was Fatty, breaking the ice with a real cracker. Mermaid smiled and said she’d missed it. Fatty grunted and returned his attention to her breasts. Mermaid looked at me and said, ‘How are you?’ Obviously Fatty thought she was talking to him because he replied, ‘Not bad, but I could do with a chow. Do they serve burgers around here after hours?’ Mermaid didn’t know what to say so she giggled. Then a group of girls appeared out of nowhere and told Mermaid that their lift had arrived. My heart sank. Mermaid looked at me with a desperate look in her eyes. I tried to smile but probably just looked terrified. She waved goodbye and left. Fatty and I watched the girls move across the field like butterflies. At one stage they all stopped, turned and looked at us, then they giggled and disappeared into the crowds.

  Sunday 2nd June

  When I woke up I realized there were seven people standing in my room. Like any animal surprised in his bed I decided to play dead. The estate agents didn’t seem to care that it was Sunday morning on my long weekend. In fact they all spoke at the tops of their voices and ripped open the curtains. One of the ladies called my room ‘poky’ and another said it would make for a fair-sized office. Then they left without closing the curtains. I got up and made some coffee. Dad was sitting on a stool in the kitchen staring at the oven with Blacky sleeping at his feet. I said good morning but all he said was, ‘Bastards…’ It turned out that Dad wasn’t cooking anything at all – apparently Mom had sent him and Blacky in here and had told Dad to look busy. Dad said he never thought he’d see the day when he’d have to pretend to be busy in his own house. I told Dad his disguise would probably be a bit more effective if he turned the oven on. Dad said he didn’t want to waste electricity.

  Over a cup of coffee Dad started getting emotional about how much he loved the house and how much work he’d done on the garden. He reckoned he would commit suicide if he had to live in England and drink warm beer every day. I nodded and looked sympathetic but I was thinking about Rovers last night. I was running over every single moment in my mind and replaying it like a movie.

  The door swung open and the crowd of people came in. They took one look at Dad sitting in front of the oven and muttering to himself and left. I heard the front door slam and then Mom came into the kitchen in a foul mood. She glared at Dad and said, ‘You look like a hobo and please don’t mutter to yourself in public – I don’t want half of Durban North thinking I’ve a madman for a husband.’ Dad shook his head like a martyr and then Mom turned her fury on me and told me my room was a disgrace. (She’s getting worse than Anderson…)

  Dad and I have been instruct
ed to show the next group of people around the house. Mom left, still in a bad mood, and drove off to Wombat’s flat. The next group that arrived didn’t even look at the house. Dad told them that the reason we’re moving is because of the horrific crime wave in the area. The estate agent’s lip hit the floor and she looked at Dad like he was crazy. Dad said, ‘Look, I’ll be honest with you. The old guy on the corner was murdered a few nights ago.’ The potential buyers looked shocked and whispered something to each other. The agent folded her arms and said, ‘Now who might that have been, Mr Milton?’ Dad said the guy’s name was Alfred Nobel.

  When they’d gone Dad gave me a high five and said, ‘Johnny, together we’ll fight the bastards off! Now go get a pad and paper.’

  Dad and I made a long list of things that could possibly be wrong with the house.

  Rats

  Snakes

  Borer

  Leaky pipes

  Used to be a brothel

  Was the scene of a murder many years ago

  Haunted

  After three more groups the estate agent didn’t come back. Dad cracked open his whisky and I went back to bed and read Cry, The Beloved Country.

  Monday 3rd June

  Helped Mom load up a pile of junk into her car and take it to the dump. I found a green and white gnome with an orange hat in a carton of weird odds and ends. Mom said his name was Gilbert and that Dad packed him away in the garage because he was bad luck. I have decided not to be superstitious and that Gilbert is moving to the Mad House.

  Had to visit Wombat on the way to the bus. She loves seeing me in my school uniform and told me I was immensely handsome. I thanked her and then (as instructed by Mom) asked her about the London trip. She then prattled on about the White Cliffs of Dover and the palaces of the Queen. After twenty minutes Mom stopped her midway through a pre-Second World War foxhunt to tell her we were leaving. Wombat became very anxious and started accusing us of coming round to steal her money. (Basically a Gollum moment.) Mom tried to reason with her but Wombat told us to clear off or else she’d call the police.