The Betrayal of Bindy Mackenzie (23 page)

Explanatory Note
The above may look like a blank, white square, but it is actually a receipt for a CD
—
the only ‘rock music' CD I have ever purchased.

The receipt has now faded to this white, blank state.

DIARY ENTRY
Thursday, 14 August

Reflection on Names
Today at lunchtime, Ernst von Schmerz told me that his real name is Kee Dow Liang.

His parents moved to Sydney from Malaysia when he was six, and changed his name to Harold Brown, to help him fit in. When he turned thirteen, he decided to go back to his real name but the kids at his school ‘did not react well'.

‘What did they do?' I asked, but we were passing the tuckshop at that moment, and Ernst said, ‘Hang a links here.' That is his way of saying, ‘Let's turn left here.'

After we had bought ourselves salt-and-vinegar chips, I asked Ernst again about the kids at his old school. He said (cryptically) that they'd tried to teach him that a person
should
never
change his name, especially not to something ‘funny' like Kee Dow Liang.

So Ernst decided he would change his name as often as he could. At the moment his name is Ernst von Schmerz. In the future, he said, it could be anything.

Certificate for Most Improved Team Member
Grade
C,
Netball
To: Bindy Mackenzie

Bindy, congratulations on this
—
from our first game you were jumping like a little bean, and you finally learned to catch the
ball! A joy for a coach to watch!

DIARY ENTRY
Thursday, 21 August

I would have liked to talk to Kelly Simonds about Ernst and his name: ask her if she thought he was doing the right thing. Or was he hurting himself to defy those other kids? Did he really
want
to be Ernst von Schmerz? If so, what had become of Kee Dow Liang—and of Harold Brown, come to think of it? And if Ernst changes his name again, who will he be? Will we really know him any longer?

But I do not speak to Kelly much these days. Although she is an excellent second speaker, and is friendly with us at debates, she has been drifting away during school days, and often she sits with other groups.

Explanatory Note
In Year 9, I commenced work as a casual employee of Kmart Australia Ltd, and, by August, I was Employee of the Month.

I befriended another new employee: a girl named Leesa, a student at Brookfield High. Considering that she was a Brookfielder, Leesa seemed nothing like a criminal.

Late at night, when the store had closed and we were re-shelving and tidying Leesa would take breaks to visit me. (She was in Appliances; I was in Womenswear.) She'd roll up on the back of a shopping trolley.

We'd chat about our ambitions to rise to position of Store Manager one day (we were being ironic and made each other laugh). And one day, Leesa asked for my phone number. She wrote it on the back of her hand, apparently oblivious to ink poisoning.

Now, a few days after this, Leesa actually telephoned. This happened early one morning. She told me she and some friends had tickets to see a band called Powderfinger the following night. Did I want to come along
?

I explained that I had a piano exam. Leesa did not seem to mind.

Later that night, I admitted to myself that the piano exam was at four and there was plenty of time to get to a concert. In truth, I had been alarmed at the idea of meeting Leesa's
Brookfield friends. Even if Leesa could not see through me, I knew that her friends would. (And how did one go to a concert? What did one do? Dance? How? Sing along? But I didn't know the words! I would surely fail!)

The next day, after my piano exam, I went into HMV and bought a copy of a Powderfinger CD
—
the only rock CD in my collection.

But when I returned to Kmart the following week, Leesa was not there. I suppose her trolley riding might have lost her the job.

DIARY ENTRY
Monday, 15 September

Today, in Art, I overheard Emily Thompson talking with her two friends, Lydia and Cassie. Lydia is going out with Sergio Saba at the moment—and she was telling the others that he'd met her at the time he was supposed to last night (he's usually late).

At this, Emily said, wryly: ‘That's a turnip for the books.' She honestly said ‘turnip'. She thinks the expression has something to do with vegetables.

I have serious concerns about the stupidity levels in my year.

DIARY ENTRY
Thursday, 2 October

Guess what, Mum secretly bought Anthony a Super-8 movie camera! (He's been asking Dad for the money for one, and
Dad keeps refusing.) Anthony and Sam have already written their first movie. They want me to play the victim. All I have to do is get stabbed twenty times, and climb a tree, covered in red paint. I've been going to drama classes on Saturdays, for the skills component of the Duke of Edinburgh Award, and to First Aid (for the service component) on Thursday nights—so I think I am prepared for the part.

DIARY ENTRY
Thursday, 6 November

Reflections on Glandular Fever
Astrid Bexonville has glandular fever.

I overheard her friends saying she's going to miss all the exams, but she'll be allowed to do them on her own later, probably in the principal's office.

As for glandular fever, I don't believe in it. I don't think it exists. It's one of those ‘teenage' ailments that students invent to get themselves extra study time. I have no respect for it.

 

DIARY ENTRY
Saturday, 14 February

My Dearest Diary,
I thought it best to warn you: I won't have time to write very much this year. I will write even less than usual. I hope you will not take offence.

You see, this is the most important year of my life to date: Year 10. A year that will shape my academic future. The Year of the School Certificate. I must focus all my energy on study—I must avoid the ‘pointless reverie' of diary writing.

I have to write now though, because I am in a flutter. It turns out that the first few weeks of Year 10 have been surprising, nay, they have been
exciting!

Things have been happening!

Here is a list: