Chapter 7

I'm in trouble with Mr. Simmonds again.

Yesterday, on Monday, dad took me and Sarah to call for Rachel and Al. We dropped them at their school and then Rachel and I were dropped off at mine – what had formerly been ours.

A lot of the kids were really nice and asked Rachel why she was here and she told them about the earthquake and the big waves. But when we got to my classroom, Mr. Simmonds asked what she was doing there. I said that she was my guest.

"She can't be a guest, she's a former student!" he said.

"Well, then she's a visitor."

"No such category!"

"Is she a teacher?"

"No!"

"Is she a parent?"

"No!" he was getting dark red in the face.

"Is she a student?"

"Not any more!"

"Well, then she's a guest. Unless she's a janitor."

"Don't be fresh with me!"

So I got angry. "Don't be such a twit!"

So we got marched to the principal's office.

The principal's secretary phoned my home. There was no response. (I don't know why Rob didn't answer. Maybe he went for a walk.) Then they tried Rachel's home. No one answered there, either. They were now too flustered to ask either of us a sensible question.

Rachel looked frightened. "Don't fret," I whispered. "There's nothing they can do to you."

"Well, young man," said the principal, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

"As to what, sir?"

"As to your insulting Mr. Simmonds."

"I didn't insult him."

"He says you did."

"I told him not to be a twit. That's not being insulting."

"And what would you call it?"

"A precautionary admonition, sir." Rachel tittered.

"And who taught you to say that?"

"Mr. Simmonds, sir. He's quite insistent about improving our vocabularies."

"Hmpf. Yes. Quite so. Anyroad, why is this young woman here?"

"She's my guest for the day, sir."

"Weren't you a student here?" he turned to Rachel.

"Yes."

"And why are you here?"

"I'm waiting to enter Perth College, sir."

"I'm missing something."

"I was in Osaka visiting my grandparents. After the tsunami they decided I would be safer here in Perth. I've been accepted to Perth College for next year. Our mothers are seeing whether they will admit me early."

"Well, that makes sense. Why didn't you tell Mr. Simmonds?"

"He never asked, sir."

"Hmmm."

"Well, what do you think I should do with the two of you?"

"Sir, you could send us to the library and bar Rachel from coming here this week. And you could suspend me for several days," I said.

He asked us to wait in the outer office while he spoke with Mr. Simmonds. In a few minutes Mr. Simmonds emerged. We went back into the office.

"Patrick, you must learn to behave with proper decorum."

"Yes, sir."

"You are suspended for the remainder of this week. While you are away, you will write an essay on appropriate behaviour."

"Yes, sir."

"'Precautionary admonition', eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you, Miss. Mr. Simmonds never enquired?"

"No, sir. He just rounded on Patrick."

"I see." He looked at the door. "Did you reach the parents, Lauren?"

"No, sir. No answer at either home."

"Do you know where I might reach one of your parents, Patrick?"

"Yes, sir. My dad's probably in his office. And Rachel's is most likely in his."

I phoned dad. He said he'd pick us up in about fifteen minutes. I asked the principal whether he wanted to speak to him.

"No. You explain what transpired. Both of you. I don't want to see you until Monday, young man. And welcome back to Perth, Rachel." I told dad we'd meet him and put down the phone.

"Mr. Simmonds will never be your friend, Patrick."

"That's okay, sir. I just need to survive. Anyway, as Horace wrote: 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori'." ["It is fitting and proper to die for one's country."] He snorted. And we left.