FINDING MYSELF

Chapter 4- Maravel's office

         I watched Happyfeet and Maravel from behind as I followed them back to school. Happyfeet was pointing to his watch shaking his head, Maravel was doing a lot of nodding. They shook hands and turned in my direction Happyfeet made laser- like contact, zapped me with one of the best teacher death stares of all time and hissed, Monday!

        Instantly Monday was no longer a day of the week but the launch day of an attack.

       I followed Maravel through the senior quad over to his office. This was not going to be good.

      It's not that I like being in trouble. I mean, what difference does it make if your shirt's not tucked in or you have too much gel in your hair? It's not exactly helping the pursuit of world peace, is it? But the past few months were different. I had well and truly moved on from 'minor misdemeanors' and was heading for the expulsion end of the scale. The afterglow of the butt showing incident was fading fast.

       Vance, come in, please.

        The air instantly cooled in Maravel's office. The more trouble you were in the colder it was. I don't know how he did it but it got me every time. Right at that moment, the mercury was around one degree and falling.

       Maravel stood there silently, running his hand through his hair. He was taking big breaths and letting them out really slowly. I figured it was best if I didn't look in his direction just yet.

        The Maravel domain was more like an old library than an office. It was jam-packed with folders, books and magazines all about the same thing: Ancient Greece. And if that wasn't enough, every single bit of wall was plastered with old Greek guys. Not old guys like some Greek kid's grandfather, I mean really old famous guys who came from Ancient Greece. I didn't know exactly who they were but every time I was in Maravel's  I would read the same quotes about democracy and everybody having rights. Which was pretty funny considering every time I was in there I was trying to defend my own rights. Apparently they didn't count.

          There was one particular guy who sat on top of Maravel's filing cabinet. He was made of cement and had no arms. The story goes that six or seven years ago of Year 12 boys stole it during muck-up day. Then, every day after that, Maravel received ransom notes and photographs warning that if he didn't meet the demands, the Greek guy was going to be smashed to pieces and poured into some Greek family's entertainment area somewhere in Marrickville. Everyone thought it was pretty funny, he even had his own website - until Happyfeet got involved, that is. It turned out Maravel had been awarded it from uni in Greece for some type of special study. Happyfeet said it was the despicable action of an ignoramus who had forfeited his right to attend the college. Before one of Happyfeet's famous inquisitions fired up, the kid turned himself in. He was Maravel's top Ancient History Extension student who, anyone with half a brain could have seen, was just having a laugh. Happyfeet, however, was all for expelling him before he could sit his HSC. Parents were up in arms and kids were talking about protesting. Somehow Maravel calmed everyone down. No one had touched it since. I got the impression that this time around no matter what Maravel said to Happyfeet, he wasn't going to be able to save me.

           I heard a noise coming from the other side of the desk. I knew that was my signal to look up. I attempted to make eye contact but all I could do was stare across the desk at the photo of Maravel, his wife and three kids.

         He began to speak, shaking his head as he flicked through my ever-expanding file.

          I'm going to have to ring your mother, Vance. You leave me no choice. I spoke with her just last week to comment on some small improvements you were making. She is going to be so disappointed....