New Zealand

The wrong place

Empty road

This is the continuation, the next stage of what started as the giant eel story which is the opening of my novel. (There is no mention of eels in the rest of my novel. Actually yes there is, right at the end).

If you missed that story, it’s here. You should read it first. Click this link just here.

About a Giant Eel

So, after that story, what follows is setting the scene for what happens next to Guy. This doesn’t give much away about what happens in the rest of the book, it’s still just the very start. I’ll be finishing the novel over the next year or so back in New Zealand as I need the ‘New Zealandness’ around me to complete it. This is Guy’s first day at boarding school.

The next time I post anything about my novel will be to announce it’s completion. Regular random topic blog service will be resumed when I get back to New Zealand but I hope you enjoy this next bit of the story.

So…Are we sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin….

That summer was the last time they spent any meaningful time together as boys. They had to go off and grow up. That’s the problem with being boys, young mates, sooner or later you have to start becoming young men.

The bloke who owned the farm that Guys dad managed had sold it. Guy didn’t know that as it wasn’t the sort of conversation dads had with their sons, or maybe it is but it certainly wasn’t one Guys dad was going to have with him. All Guy knew was one day he was told they were moving nearer town. Guy’s mum didn’t think much of the local high school and part of the deal for Guys dad on the new farm was having boarding school fees thrown in for the kids. So Guy and his family were moving to a new farm and from there he would be joining his older brother, Richard away at a distant boarding school, away from everything he knew, he just didn’t know that bit yet.

Guy didn’t go up to Hemi’s place to say goodbye. They never even talked about what was happening after summer and they started high school. It wasn’t the sort of conversation mates had and they hadn’t the first clue what was coming anyway. No, after another day’s patrolling the farm. Guy and Hemi walked back towards their very different homes. “See ya then”. “Yeah, see ya”. Life would be very different for them the next time they greeted each other again.

He didn’t understand why at the time but it started to dawn on Guy that the contrast between the life at the little primary school he and Hemi attended and the next stage of his life was going to be massive. Guys Mum started sorting out all his things to take. It hadn’t really occurred to Guy quite what was going on until his mum started making a list of all the stuff he would need to take with him. Guy had never been away without his family before, who has at that age? The worst bit though was his uniform. Guy had never worn a uniform. The uniform he was given was the one his older brother, Richard had grown out of the previous year.  Guy in his new boarding school uniform looked like someone wearing clothes they would grow into next year. Stupid in other words.

Richard was two years older than Guy and as the older brother he was a bit of a pain in the arse to Guy. Guy hadn’t missed him much since he left for boarding school a couple of years previously. Richard would come home every now and then on weekend leave and was like a different person to the former pain in the arse who had left anyway. No, Guy and Richard, despite being brothers had always been very different. You could use the old term ‘chalk and cheese’ but it’s just occurred to me that ‘town and country’ would be more appropriate.

So Guy was driven to the big city, to his new School. He was pretty quiet in the car. His Mum was chatting away about all the things he wasn’t listening to. It was a reassuring sound of his mother talking. But he just looked out the window and watched familiarity sweep by. His mum was talking about how he should look people in the eye. Shake hands properly. Not to worry about school work too much as he was one of the brightest kids in his primary school so he’d be fine with the new lessons. How Richard would look after him. He’s pretty sure that was the stuff she was talking about but he just looked out the window and agreed with her every once in a while.

The arrival at the boarding school was shocking for Guy, the whole day, he knew he was going to hate it the minute he walked through the gates with his Mum.

The size of the older boys struck him first. They weren’t boys, they were men in school uniform. They looked so unlike anything he had seen before. He’d met the older brothers of some of the kids at his primary school of course, but they had also been to his school so he had seen them grow up. This lot though, they were different. They were terrifying because they looked so at ease in the alien environment he had just walked into. They were so big.

The boys joining the day he did, all the new boarders, none looked like him. They had their own uniforms that fitted. They looked like they were used to wearing them. Their parents had flash cars. Range Rovers, big Ford Falcons, new Holden Commodores, even some of those mythical European cars like BMW and Audi. Guy had never seen a real one before and here was a couple of them in the same place.  The cars driven by people who owned farms rather than managed them. Some of the boys from out in the sticks like him had been to a ‘prep school’. He’d never heard of a prep school. They don’t have many in New Zealand. There was one called Huntley somewhere in the Rangitikei that these boys had come from. It’s just a flash school that rich country people send their boys to, to get them ready for high school. Like boarding school but with younger boys. Guy thought that sounded pretty crap. Other boys had been to schools called ‘intermediate’. These guys had all been to really formal schools. This was just a bigger version of the way they had always been to school.

Now he had a chance to look around, take it in a bit, he noticed that the place smelled funny, a mixture of city, mown grass, and linament. Something else there as well, food cooking. There was a sound of a big busy kitchen, like in a hospital. A sound he remembered from when Nicky was born and he went to visit his mum there. The hospital kitchen was nearby and he remembered the sound of it. This place reminded him of that. Institutional was the word he would have used had he known of it at the time.

His attention focussed back to the fact he had been hurried along to a library, a place all the new boys were gathered to meet the boarding house master and staff.

Guy was shown to chair with his mum, among all the other mums and sons. Some Dads were there, but not many. Dads have farms to run.

The house master looked like a grandad. A tough one, not a tough but kind one like Guys grandad, just tough. He strode up to the front of the room and turned to face the gathered faces. He didn’t have a face that reassured Guy everything was going to be OK. He looked mean to Guy. He wore a suit, a tie. His name was Mr Muldoon. He was really big. He just looked around the room, taking in all the faces he could see, getting a measure of the boys in an instant as only a lifetime of being a house master could allow him to. He spoke. What Mr Muldoon said next, while simple, affected Guy more than anything else he could have possibly uttered.

“Welcome men.”

Mr Muldoon then said some things about how important education was and how the school they had come to was the very best school in all of New Zealand. He spoke of the school’s history, the achievements of the ‘Old Boys’. The lifelong friendships they would forge here at the school. How the next phase of life had begun for the ‘men’ in the room. Guy heard little of that. He just heard the word ‘men’ being used to describe him.

Guy was 13 years old and had been called ‘men’. Guy didn’t feel like ‘men’, he was still a boy and he knew in his heart that he was not ready to be ‘men’. Unfortunately for Guy he was, in the words of people who know how to describe things, one for ‘wearing his heart on his sleeve’. Boarding school is not the sort of place where that trait is regarded as a quality, it was to become something of a curse.

Back out in the school courtyard. All the boys are gathered around. The mums are saying goodbye, everyone is trying not to cry and doing a shit job of it. The young men are trying not to look stupid by crying in front of the other young men. The older boarders, the ones who look like men in school uniform are all looking on, seeing what the new boys look like. I guess it’s a bit like the human version of weaning lambs. Guy hugs his mum, not too much though. She goes off to the car, looking back all the time, waving. She gets in the car and toots the horn, waves and drives off. Guy is standing there on the footpath with Richard who has come to see their mum off as well. Guy looks at Richard and knows he is not going to spend too much time ‘looking after him’.

Guy is on his own here, surrounded by 130 boys now called men, but on his own. He’d been here half a day and already knew he was in the wrong place. Some things are just known.

Part Three

Part Three. The School Bus

12 replies »

  1. Loved this next chapter Sandy, it brought back so many memories of my many ‘first days’ at school, my dad being in the Army dictated a fair amount of travelling, Malaysia, Singapore and Germany to name a few. I particularly recall one first day, where whilst in the playground lining up, as you did, the Head Teacher came out and he was so tall…I mean he had the longest legs I had every seen. Well I must have muttered it under my breath and an older boy said that he (the Head Teacher) was called Daddy Long Legs. Well when we all sat crossed legs on the floor in assembly, crikey just realized we had no chairs!! well the Head asked me my name, I am guessing I joined part way through a term, as was the case for Army kids. I of course was familiar with this and my response was Dawn Wilson, Mr Daddy Long Legs….all I remember after that was wetting my knickers…such was the reaction from the Head. Not sure what he did but it obviously had an impact!! Looking forward to the complete story….xxx

  2. Sandy, beautifully written as always. I’m looking forward to reading the book! And spot on accurate. An ex boyfriend of mine was sent away to board when he was very young (just 9 years old), you could be writing about the things he told me about how he felt at being sent away (as he saw it) at a young age. Love the writing in general though. Excellent!
    Jane xx

  3. Thought I’d wait ’til the end of the book to leave a comment, but just to encourage you to keep writing since you’d mentioned me today I though I’d reread it and pat you on the back anyway. Looking forward to the end of winter ’cause that’s when you’ve promised to have the book finished by, but hope summer is long in the meantime, then winter can be short and warm.

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