The Mob from TAC, Page 3

Rick Maverick met up with Pete Cook at interval as they made their way to their next class of the day, PE. ‘Well, the meeting with Mr Reaper sucked. If it had sucked any worse, I’d be drained of all my blood right now.’

  It had been Pete who had twisted Mav’s arm to skip class that morning. Mav really wanted to gain himself a new friend, as he didn’t have any close ones of his own at Akato, so it seemed like a no-brainer to go along with the scheme. He didn’t blame Pete though. It wasn’t his fault they got sprung by Mr Reaper, nevertheless, he would have some serious explaining to do to his parents when he got home.

  ‘Well at least we got to hang out with Jacqui for a bit.’ Pete grinned. ‘And her hot friend.’

  ‘Holly.’ Mav glanced sideways at his new friend intrigued. He never thought of her that way before, but he figured that yeah, she was sort of hot.

  Pete sighed. ‘Although after what happened at Pone Road Beach during the holidays, I’m probably wasting my time with Jacqui.’

  ‘What happened?’

  They arrived outside the school pavilion and drew to a halt. ‘I tried diving off a cliff into that river that runs into the ocean. Nearly broke my neck. Made a complete idiot of myself in front of her.’

  Mav couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Pone Rd beach, eh? I was over there during the holidays, too. There was this big huge fat guy bragging about how he could dive off that cliff. Don’t know who he was, never saw him before, but he wouldn’t prove that he could. In fact, he got really nasty when I accused him of being all hot air.’ Mav paused, remembering that incident. ‘I hope he’s not from Te Arawa. He threatened to kill me if he ever saw me again. And that guy looked as though he could do it, too.’

  ‘A real big guy?’ Pete asked.

  ‘Really enormous. If you’d put him next to a beached whale, you wouldn’t know the difference.’

  ‘Can’t think who that would be. Maybe he was just here on holiday. Besides, it was probably all hot air, like you said.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Mav. ‘But I wouldn’t want to poke a pin in him to be sure.’ He couldn’t forget that evil look on the guy’s face, pure and utter hatred like from a horror movie. Maybe it was an act, but he was scary and Mav hoped he wouldn’t run into that guy again, just in case he was serious about his threat.

  Rog Shepherd stepped up beside them. ‘Hey… Cook. And you… new guy. What did you say to the Reaper?’

  ‘The truth,’ Mav said. ‘That we were skipping class and ran into you guys.’

  ‘That better be all.’ Sheep glared. He turned his eyes accusingly to Pete. ‘I know you, Cook, you’re likely to have made up some bullshit to get me into trouble.’

  ‘I didn’t!’ Pete insisted.

  ‘Yeah, he didn’t,’ Mav said.

  ‘How do you know? We all went in separately.’

  ‘Well if he lied, we’d be all getting called back into the office, wouldn’t we? But no, here we are shooting the breeze like long lost friends, about to get ready for some good old fashioned Physical Education.’

  ‘We better NOT be called back in. I’m already gonna be in enough shit with my parents when I get home tonight and it’s all your fault, Cook!’

  ‘Mine?’

  ‘Yeah! The Reaper must have seen you guys coming down the back. You were the last two there.’

  ‘Oh sure.’ Mav smirked. ‘He saw us come down. Decided to mosey over to the staff room to get himself a coffee first and only after that decided to make his way down the back to find us, but not without first stopping here by the pavilion to admire the flowers. Yeah. Great. Gave you enough time to get to town and back and take a dip in the river before he came down to bust you.’

  Sheep snorted and delivered Mav a glare. Without another word the three of them entered the changing rooms at the foot of the pavilion.

  Minutes later, they were lined up along with 24 others, wearing their standard issue PE shorts and singlet. Mav looked forward to a casual game of cricket or softball to start the year off. The sun shone and the heat beat down upon them. Swimming weather, so it was disappointing they weren’t going swimming.

  ‘Atten...hut!’ shouted Mr Harris, their wild-eyed Physical Education teacher. Mav thought he looked quite comical standing there in his khaki pants and shirt, wearing a brown slouch hat over his messy brown hair. He had a goatee beard, and bony unshaven cheeks.

  ‘When I say atten-hut, I expect everyone to stand at attention! Now do it!’

  Mav had been told earlier that Mr Harris was a new teacher. He was one of the few new teachers not to have come from Akato. He spoke with an English accent, and in his hand, held some kind of machine gun. At first, it had provided curious speculation, but it was hard not to notice a few knees knocking and a few wide-eyed stares from Mav’s fellow classmates as the teacher pointed it in their direction.

  All the boys stood at attention and waited to see what he would do next. Mav was tempted to raise his hand and ask about the gun, but Sheep who stood next to him, beat him to it. ‘What’s with the gun, Mr Harris?’

  Mr Harris swiftly diverted his gun towards Sheep and pulled the trigger. Mav almost dived for cover himself as a round of bullets fired at his classmate’s feet, tearing away a light layer of grass in the process. Sheep leapt backward and stumbled to keep his balance. His jaw dropped and he stared at his teacher. Mav, despite being paralyzed with fear, couldn’t help but notice how comical Sheep looked, standing there with cold terror on his face.

  ‘YOU WILL NOT TALK UNLESS YOU ARE SPOKEN TO! HAVE YOU GOT THAT?’

  ‘Y…yes,’ Sheep stared.

  ‘Yes what?’

  ‘Yes, Sir!’

  ‘You will all address me as Sir.’ He raised his weapon into the air. All eyes were wide, unable to believe what they had witnessed. For a moment Mav thought he might be having a bad dream and that he was in the army instead of at school, but no he was definitely awake, there was no doubt about that. ‘This…! Is an AK47 Assault Rifle. An original army issue, a souvenir from my time as a Sergeant Major. Yes. It is real. And yes. I will use it on any unruly boys in this platoon... I mean PE class who step out of line! IS THAT CLEAR?’

  ‘Yes,’ they all chimed in.

  ‘Yes what?’

  ‘Yes, Sir!’ Mav ensured he gave the loudest shout. He had seen war movies before and realised that Mr Harris was like those drill sergeants that were often portrayed; loud and fascist.

  Harris’s eyes bugged. ‘That’s better.’

  Pete, who stood on the opposite side of Mav, raised his hand. Harris peered directly at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You can’t shoot us sir. That would be murder.’

  Mr Harris imitated what Pete had said, but in a squeaky voice, ‘You can’t shoot us sir. That would be murder.’ Fortunately, for Pete, he didn’t get angry and just went back to his normal loud voice. ‘Huh. Murder! Death would be a relief for what you are going to go through this year. Believe you me, PE will be no piece of cake.’ He began to pace up and down the row of boys as he spoke. ‘If you’ve come here to play sissy games like Soccer and Baseball, forget it! If you think that it’s going to be all fun and games, forget it. You’ll be working and working and working! I’m going to push you all so hard, that you will be the toughest, fittest, most physical students in the entire country!’

  Harris jerked to a halt beside Mav, causing him to pull in his gut and stand as straight as possible. Mav intended on playing it smart, behaving the way that a recruit would behave when the drill sergeant demanded his attention. ‘You. Name!’

  ‘Rick Maverick, Mr Harris, Sir!’ Mav kept his eyes straight ahead the entire time. He stood tall, which was easy for him as he was above average in height.

  His manner had the desired effect. Mr Harris’s expression softened and his voice calmed a little. ‘Do you like running, Maverick?’

  ‘Yes Sir, Mr Harris, Sir!’ Mav blurted, still staring straight ahead. He hated running, but he wasn’t going to let on to that fact.

>   ‘That’s what I like to hear!’ A smile creased Mr Harris’s lips and he continued his progression along the line. ‘Because there will be a heck of a lot of running this year. Marathons, cross-country runs, sprints! And when the weather is wet there will be gruelling workouts in the gym and lots and lots of suicide and murder runs. By the end of this year, you will all be doing 50 press ups or more!’ He stopped again at another boy, a short, but physically well built Maori by the name of Ben Tamati. ‘Name?’

  ‘Ben Tamati, Mr Harris, Sir!’ A cheeky smile appeared on his face.

  Mav could see more trouble looming as Mr Harris’s eyes began to bug once more. ‘Are you mocking me, boy?’

  ‘No Sir, I...’

  ‘You were mocking me! I know mockery when I hear it!’ Mr Harris’s eyes narrowed. ‘Run around that football field and I want you to keep running until I tell you to stop. Move it, move it, move it.’

  Ben delivered Mav a dirty look and began to jog away, but Mr Harris gave him an incentive to run faster when he raised his gun and sent a hail of gunfire ricocheted off the ground at Ben’s feet. The boy let out a gasp and accelerated his pace. Mav couldn’t help but smirk. From what he had heard from Pete, Ben was not an easy one to get along with. In fact, he was one of the class bullies.

  The other boys stood paralysed, unable to shake their gaze from Mr Harris’s dreaded AK47. Even Mav, having got over the smug satisfaction of seeing Ben Tamati being humiliated, now started to feel uneasy as he gazed at his teacher’s weapon. Could it really be the real thing? The one thing that puzzled Mav though was the lack of noise it made when it fired. There had been no loud bangs, only a spitting sound with each bullet it fired, but perhaps that was the type of sound a gun like that made? Mav really had no idea.

  Mr Harris was about to inspect another boy when a latecomer arrived – a very large newcomer in very baggy shorts and orange T shirt. Mav took one look at him and froze. A chill ran down his spine. This very familiar newcomer looked as though he could easily mow a guy down with one nudge of his huge body. This was the boy who had threatened him at Pone Road Beach.

  ‘That’s him,’ Mav nudged Pete, unable to break from his terror.

  ‘The guy who threatened you?’

  ‘Yes. Do you know him?’

  ‘Never seen him before.’

  Mr Harris glared at the boy, with a wearisome look in his eyes. ‘There’s always one every year. Every year, a fat person. A fat person! What’s your name, soldier?’

  ‘Tucker Pyles,’ the boy said, folding his arms and looking out over the sport field.

  ‘Tucker Pyles what?’

  ‘That’s my name sir. Pyles is my surname.’

  ‘TUCKER PYLES, SIR!’ Harris boomed, causing the obese latecomer to jerk his eyes back towards their teacher.

  Tucker finally replied with no humour, as if making a simple statement, ‘No. my last name’s Pyles, not Sir.’

  There were chuckles from those on parade. Tucker’s face turned sour and he spun his head to glare at the offenders. The evil look Mav had seen at the beach spread across Tucker’s face like a disease. It chilled Mav just looking at it.

  ‘Gordon Bennett,’ Mr Harris rolled his eyes. ‘We have a right one on our hands here. You call me Sir, you understand Pile?’

  ‘Oh…’ Tucker’s glare disappeared and his cheeks reddened. ‘Ok... Sir.’

  ‘Tucker Pyles, very appropriate. Obviously you’ve had too much tucker, haven’t you?’

  Tucker hesitated. His lip turned up a bit and he peered at Mr Harris with cold eyes, but replied politely. ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Now do you know how hard I work fat people, Pile?’

  ‘No, Sir,’ his expression didn’t change.

  ‘Ten times as hard as everyone else. Be assured, I will! Be assured that by the end of this year, you will be half the size that you are now. Last year at my old school, I had a boy named Derek Milford. Nowhere near as obese as you, but obese none the less. He is only plump now. All because I pushed him. Rest-assured soldier, it will be the same for you. It will be a major task, maybe even an impossible task, but Gordon Bennett, we will succeed, yes, we will. Now start running, Pile. With all that fat, you need a head start over the others. And don’t let me see you stop running!’

  Tucker’s evil expression appeared, but only briefly. He glanced down at the gun in Mr Harris’s hand, turned, and hurried off across the field.

  Mr Harris did some more pacing up and down the line and none of the boys dared mutter a word.

  Pete raised his hand, but this time a lot slower.

  ‘You again. Name?’

  ‘Pete Cook, Sir!’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Are those real bullets in your gun, Sir?’

  ‘Are those real bullets in my gun?’ An evil grin spread across his face. ‘Perhaps you’d like to find out? Perhaps you’d all like to find out! Start running. All of you! MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!’

  All the boys fled across the grass under a shower of gunfire. Mav felt a sudden stab of pain as something splatted into his shoulder, causing him to gasp. Still stumbling along, he reached around and clutched at his shoulder. He could feel a sticky substance and for a moment, thought it was blood. However, when he drew his hand to look, there was green dye all over it. With relief, he quickened his pace and continued to run.

  Three quarters of an hour later, Mav and all but one of his classmates arrived back at the changing shed exhausted. They all panted and gasped - every one of them aching and tired. Mav felt like he had been through the world’s toughest workout. His muscles were weak and he could barely stand up. He sat on a bench to catch his breath.

  ‘He shot me!’ one boy wined. ‘I’m bleeding.’

  ‘Paintball pellets,’ panted Pete. ‘Not real. Stings like hell though.’

  ‘You’re a wimp, Cook,’ snarled tough guy, Will Ullman. Mav had heard from Pete that at a school camp a couple of years earlier, Will or Wal as they called him, partly due to his name but also because of his love of Footrot Flats comics, had taken a tumble down a bank, whacking his head on a rock. He had bled profusely, but hadn’t cried at all. Apparently, Wal was able to beat up boys years older than he was. He was one tough guy and Pete held him in high esteem. Mav didn’t quite know how to take him. He seemed to be rather arrogant, but Pete had insisted he was an ok sort of guy. ‘Geeze, Cook, you really are a pathetic loser, you know that? Harris may think he’s got his work cut out for him with that fat guy, but the day he makes you into a tough guy is the day girls find me resistible.’

  Pete chuckled. ‘Isn’t that the case already?’

  Wal lunged out at Pete to grab him by the shirt, but Pete just managed to move out of the way.

  Wal pointed an accusing finger at him. ‘You’re just lucky that I’m resting! I’ll deal with you later!’

  Mav had been dreading the return of the last remaining student from the field. Tucker Pyles came in last, stumbling into the changing room looking totally bedraggled with green dye all over his PE gear. He dumped himself down on a bench, panting. Mav moved in behind a group of students so the fat teen would not see him. He was too exhausted to deal with him and wanted to avoid him for as long as possible.

  ‘Hey mate,’ one boy piped up. ‘What do you reckon about old Sergeant Major Harris?’

  ‘He’s an ubbhead!’ Tucker snarled, not even looking at the boy who spoke.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘An ubbhead!’ repeated Tucker.

  ‘What the hell’s an ubbhead?’

  ‘Someone like you! Shut up and let me catch my breath!’

  Sheep spoke up, a look of contempt on his face and said something very unwise in Mav’s opinion, ‘Fat spaz.’

  Tucker’s eyes nearly popped from his head. He hauled himself to his feet and made a lunge for Sheep. ‘What did you call me, ubbhead?’ He clipped him across the ear, grabbed him by the arm and shoved him hard. Sheep fell back onto the floor and grunted in pain. He remained
there glaring up at the huge newcomer, but clearly not prepared to enrage him any further. Mav figured that even though Sheep was athletic and tough, he knew when he was out-gunned.

  ‘Nobody calls me fat!’ Tucker peered around at every face within his view, his eyes resonating with ire. ‘It’s muscle, all muscle!’

  Almost every boy in the changing room burst out laughing, even though it was painful to do so. Mav couldn’t help but join in with the mirth, being careful not to get into Tucker’s line of sight.

  ‘ARRRGHHHH!’ Tucker struck out at one boy and hurled a bag at another. He booted out at one, catching him in the side and then kicked his other large foot wildly at another. Boys dived out of the way, as he sent bags and shoes flying in all directions.

  ‘Hey man, chill out!’ one of the guys urged him.

  Mav figured it very fortunate for that individual that Tucker was too exhausted to take any further action. He began to calm down, glaring from one boy to the next, ‘I’ll be dishing out some serious ubberings if anyone messes with me!’

  There was stoned silence. Mav could only assume when he used the word “ubberings,” that he meant “beatings.” He peered across at Wal, one of the few boys who had not tried to duck for cover. He still sat there, studying Tucker with a frown on his face. Mav figured that Wal wasn’t the type of guy to get involved, but then perhaps if one of the shoes or bags had hit him, it would have been a different story.

  Mav turned his eyes towards Ginge, another one of the class athletes. Even he remained silent, trying to make Tucker out.

  Eventually things settled and one by one, they started to get dressed into their uniforms and chatter resumed.

  ‘That Tucker guy sure is mental,’ Pete said as he left the changing sheds with Mav. ‘No wonder you’re running scared. Can you believe his name is Tucker?’

  ‘Gives the phrase ‘you are what you eat’ new meaning huh?’ Mav breathed easy again now that he was out of the changing shed.

  ‘I wonder where he’s from. What about Harris, Mav. Is he from Akato?’

  ‘Never seen him before in my life.’

  ‘You seemed to know how to handle him.’

  ‘You’ve gotta know how to deal with guys like Mr Harris.’ Mav smiled. ‘He’s a military man. You’ve got to treat him like he’s your commanding officer.’

  Pete nudged him suddenly. ‘Hey look, Jacqui’s coming our way. And Holly. Hey does she have a boyfriend?’

  ‘No,’ Mav replied.

  ‘You must be nuts, Mav. I’m surprised that you haven’t snatched her up by now.’

  ‘That’s not through lack of trying, I can assure you of that.’ Mav grinned, although he had never tried at all. Nevertheless, he didn’t want his new friends to think that. ‘I don’t think any one’s ever had any luck with her.’

  ‘Is she a snob?’

  ‘Heck no, she’s really nice. It’s just that she goes for the athletic types. Not guys like you or I. Us nerds are not her type.’

  ‘Hey, speak for yourself, I’m no nerd. If she’s available, I might just try to make a play for her.’

  Mav didn’t reply. It shouldn’t have mattered to him, but for some reason it did. Maybe he had been kidding himself. Maybe he liked her more than he realised? One thing was for sure, there would be many guys taking an interest in her, seeing as most of them had never seen her before. If realised that if he didn’t do something himself, he might just miss the boat.

  CHAPTER 4:

  Alone in the trees