Spud (5 page)

01:15   All awake and ready for the night swim. Poor Gecko has been forced to take part despite some desperate whimpering and snivelling. Rambo insisted that (in a low menacing voice) ‘there can be no witnesses’.

Rambo led us through the dormitory window and onto the vestry roof. I dared not look down at the quadrangle twenty feet below and shuffled along the precipice holding onto the elastic of Boggo’s underpants. The roof
creaked loudly as Fatty (bringing up the rear) landed on the old tin roof. Simon held the terrified Gecko with one arm as our intrepid group skulked along the roof to the chapel window. After some squeezing, pushing and prodding we forced Fatty through the window and into the gallery of the chapel. With a solitary candle burning, the chapel was wickedly freaky. I could hear my heart thumping and Fatty’s heavy breathing behind me.

Rambo led us down the stairs and along the aisle of the chapel. As we crept past the 134-year-old altar, Rambo jumped into the pulpit, spread his arms out like the Pope and said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to hell!’ This terrified the blazes out of Gecko who tried to make a break for it, only to be grabbed by Vern who muttered, ‘No witnesses, Gecko,’ in his squawky, demented voice.

For some unknown reason we all then collapsed into fits of laughter. (Even Gecko was unable to contain himself and let out a shrill squeak that only made us more hysterical.) Then Vern was laughing uncontrollably. In fact it was impossible to say whether he was crying or laughing as tears poured down his cheeks, his whole body shaking and convulsing.

After we recovered, Rambo led us into the pitch-black crypt under the chapel. The crypt is the home of the Monday night Christian Fellowship (happy-clappy Christians) and it’s also meant to house the school ghost. The hilarity was soon forgotten as we crept on our hands and knees across the crypt’s woollen carpet towards another door, which opens onto the school rose garden. From the rose garden it was over a small fence and across Glockenshpeel’s lawn. His huge double storey mansion stood like a massive monster against the half moon, a bit like one of those old castles in vampire movies.

Whilst huddling under The Glock’s lemon tree, Rambo gave us our final instructions. There we stood
in our underpants, teeth chattering from fear. The night was thick and still and humid; away to the west there was the distant sound of great booming thunder over the Drakensberg mountains which only made the whole thing even more terrifying.

After a whispered countdown we sprinted as one across the rugby field (the most dangerous part of the expedition) and into the bushes near the bog stream (the stream that encircles the grounds). We then climbed through a barbed wire fence and suddenly the dam was directly in front of us, dead calm and beautiful in the moonlight.

One by one we slid into the cool water (apart from Gecko who couldn’t wet his plaster cast), feeling the soft mud squelch between our toes. We swam in complete silence until Mad Dog and Rambo tried to dunk each other. This soon turned into a mad dunking fight with everybody trying to dunk the next person. I managed to half-dunk Simon who retaliated by holding me under the water for about three minutes.

Suddenly Boggo hissed us to silence. Across the far side of the dam, a torchlight flickered across the path. And then another and another… We all stood stock-still in the water, a cold fear creeping over us. Silence. There was a clap of thunder and the wind began to gust with an eerie whistling moan. And then the dogs began to bark…

As one we launched ourselves out of the water and bolted for the fence and the rugby field. The guards must have released their dogs because suddenly their barking and growling was all around us. Rambo was shouting and Mad Dog was trying to shoot the dogs with his catapult. It sounded like he hit one because there was a horrific squeal. Despite the cast and sling Gecko leaped over the barbed wire fence like a springbok and scorched through the bushes like a man possessed. We all galloped across the rugby field, through the rose
garden, into the crypt, up the stairs, into the chapel, back down the aisle, up more stairs and into the gallery. Finally through the window, along the roof, through the dormitory window and into my bed, muddy feet and all.

And then – dead silence, barring the sound of heavy breathing, the odd sniff from Gecko’s bed and the rumble of the thunderstorm. In the distance we could hear the guards whistling for their dogs. After about five minutes of silent panic, there was laughter and excited chatter. We all knew that we were safe, we’d made it, and we hadn’t been bust. Excited personal accounts of the adventure flew around the dormitory, stories of dog chases, each more frightening than the last. By the time it got round to Rambo’s turn the guard dogs made the Hound of the Baskervilles look as threatening as a three-legged poodle with false teeth.

Gecko was convinced that a savage German shepherd had bitten him on the arse. After we all inspected his bum with the aid of Vern’s torch, it was decided that he had fallen foul of Mad Dog’s catapult and had not been gored by a rectum-eating dog. Mad Dog denied the charge and Gecko refused to believe it had been a stone.

It was only after about half an hour of wild storytelling that we realised that we were short by one member. Fatty was missing. Rambo reckoned he had been caught by the guards, Simon said he was probably hiding somewhere. We tried to remember where we last saw him. I remembered trying to dunk him in the dam but after that…

Mad Dog offered to go and find him, but once again Rambo insisted that we all go. Poor Gecko’s eyes nearly popped out at the thought of having to repeat the process. For the second time we scrambled out of the window and onto the now very slippery tin roof and there we stopped. Our mission was complete… well, nearly.

Vern’s torch lit up a gigantic backside half-covered by shredded blue underpants sticking out of the chapel window. Fatty had got stuck coming back through the window. (Not sure why he was reversing through the window in the first place.) After some hushed cackling and a few cruel comments, we set about trying to free Fatty. After the seven of us pulled his legs (excuse the pun) for some time, Mad Dog decided that the only way to free Fatty was to push him forward back into the chapel (work that one out). Unfortunately, the big guy just wouldn’t budge. With every push and prod Fatty groaned in pain and to make matters worse, it began to pour with rain.

An emergency dormitory meeting was held to solve the Fatty problem. Mad Dog offered to rip the entire window out. Simon offered up his hair gel to lubricate Fatty and slide him out. Mad Dog suggested tying a rope to Fatty’s foot and then attaching the other end of the rope to the school bus, which would drive off pulling Fatty out. After exhausting all other options it was decided that we would work in shifts, two people per shift and the rest would sleep. Myself and Vern took the first shift.

05:45   Rambo called another meeting. Things were now getting serious. Rising bell was only half an hour away and we were all in a lot of trouble. Fatty was in agony and he’d lost feeling in both his legs. It was still pouring with rain.

06:00   It was decided that we would all deny the night swim and Rambo would be our spokesman. He retired to his bed to brew up a story to explain the entire circus. Boggo and Mad Dog told Fatty that Rambo was cooking up a story and I was sent to wake PJ Luthuli.

The grumpy head of house wasn’t impressed with his early wake up call. He was even less impressed when he
saw Fatty’s backside dangling out of the chapel window. He glared at all of us, whistled, and then said, ‘You bastards are toast!’ Gecko snivelled and Vern pulled out some hair.

A sequence of events viewed from my window

06:07   The prefects and Sparerib stand in the main quad looking up at Fatty, shaking their heads and pointing occasionally. Sparerib does not look amused.

06:16   The rising bell has brought a small crowd into the quad who all stare in astonishment at the chapel window.

06:30   Roll-call is cancelled as most of the school is now staring at Fatty’s arse. Lewd comments are made as excitement spreads around the school. We watch the huge crowd standing in the drizzle, and start to realise the enormity of the situation. Still no sign from Rambo’s bed.

06:36   The crowd is dispersed by Glockenshpeel who looks wickedly vicious. He snaps at Sparerib and the pair march into his office.

06:42   The school handyman Rogers Halibut (his real name) sprays Fatty with Q20 lubricant oil and tries to yank him free. Fatty doesn’t budge.

06:48   Rambo emerges from his cubicle, nods at us and says, ‘Gentlemen, I have a plan.’ With that he strolls out of the dormitory, into the main quad, past the crowd of teachers and ground staff and into the chapel.

06:55   Rambo exits the chapel, speaks to Sparerib and they both walk into Sparerib’s office.

07:13   The fire brigade has arrived. Somehow they manoeuvre their fire engine into the quad and raise a giant ladder up to Fatty, who has by now lost feeling in his entire body.

07:16   Rambo exits Sparerib’s office and they disappear into Glockenshpeel’s office.

07:23   Reverend Bishop hurries into the headmaster’s office.

07:42   The fire brigade wrenches Fatty free and lowers him to the ground with the help of a winch crane.

07:43   Glockenshpeel, Sparerib, Reverend Bishop and Rambo are there to meet him on his return to earth. Reverend Bishop holds his hand and says a prayer as Fatty lies on the stretcher. Glockenshpeel glares at Fatty and Sparerib gently pats his shoulder. As they wheel Fatty towards the sanatorium, Rambo leans over and whispers something into Fatty’s ear. The big fella grins and is then wheeled away.

07:50   Rambo has performed a miracle (literally). A fourteen-year-old boy has convinced the chaplain that Fatty underwent a massive religious conversion in the night. Rambo’s story goes that after speaking in tongues (whatever that means) Fatty stripped off his clothes and forced his way into the chapel, whereupon he was confronted by the Holy Spirit. After his spiritual conversion Fatty tried to return to the dormitory to spread the good news. Unfortunately, he was cruelly trapped in the chapel window.

Rambo has instructed us all to say that we were sleeping and have no idea what went down in the middle of the night. He reckoned that Sparerib and Glockenshpeel didn’t believe the story at all and knew
we were night swimming, but they didn’t have the heart to ruin Reverend Bishop’s moment after the idiot wept tears of joy in the headmaster’s office.

08:00   The story has spread like wildfire. At breakfast a number of older boys kept sidling up to our table to shake Rambo’s hand and beg for a retelling of the unbelievable events inside the headmaster’s office. With each retelling, the story became more exaggerated and by the time we were noshing our egg and bacon it had reached epic proportions.

Due to the rain, all cricket fixtures have been cancelled. Despite my heroics of last week I am hugely relieved and plan a day of sleep and recovery.

Pike woke us up sometime before lunch to tell us that he knows that we were on a night swim and he’s going to blow Rambo’s story wide open. He left us with a malicious snigger and the image of him scratching his bollocks.

Rambo demanded five rand from each of us and then sprinted out of the dormitory.

Rambo has bribed the guards into keeping silent. (He reckons they are the only loophole in his story.)

17:15   We all visited Fatty in the sanatorium and took him a bar of chocolate and some biscuits. Reverend Bishop was sitting at his bedside whispering quietly to him. Fatty seemed to be sleeping. The Reverend left when we arrived and beamed proudly at us as if we were Fatty’s disciples. As soon as he was gone Fatty woke up and told us that the idiotic chaplain hadn’t left his bedside all day. He reckoned he would rather have been beaten by Glockenshpeel than listen to the rantings of the loon.

He seemed to be feeling better though and wolfed down the bar of chocolate and box of biscuits without chewing. He said he would be released in the morning.
After a few minutes nobody could think of anything else to say so we all shook his hand and left.

I called home to find out about Dad’s court case and visit to the mental asylum. Surprisingly, he seemed in great spirits. He told me that the neighbours have dropped the charges against him because they say their point has been made. Dad reckons he was considering defending himself in the trial. He’s convinced that he’d know what he was doing after re-watching three episodes of both LA Law and Matlock. Unfortunately, the magistrate has ordered Dad to have six months of rage counselling. During this time he is forbidden to move or leave the country.

Mom cried when she heard my voice and promised they would be at next week’s cricket match. After hanging up I had another desperate running away moment, which was broken by Earthworm ordering me to make him his tea and toast and straighten his bed.

20:00   The whole house gathered in the common room for the Saturday night movie, which was Rain Man starring Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman. Hoffman was brilliant as the retarded brother who can add up numbers faster than a calculator. After about twenty minutes somebody shouted out, ‘Hey, check, it’s Vern Blackadder!’ There was a brief pause and then the whole house erupted. Poor Vern pretended to be sleeping in the darkness of the corner, but everyone knew he was faking it. At last moggy Vern has a nickname.

Miraculously I slept through the clanging chapel bells outside my window and woke up at 10:00.

Fatty joined us at lunch and didn’t seem at all himself as he picked his way through a second helping and refused a third. He had nothing to say and answered all
our questions with grunts.

Just finished Waiting for Godot again. I think it’s brilliant. Sparerib walked past our prep classroom while I was cackling like a hyena. He shook his head sadly and skulked off. Slightly concerned that the foreword to the play says it is Theatre of the Absurd – it seems perfectly normal to me.

Evening chapel (called Evensong) and my debut as a choir member. We got dressed up in ludicrous red cassocks with something called a surplice hanging over the top. (It looks wickedly naff!) Pike tried to trip me up halfway down the aisle, but I was too quick and nimbly stepped over his foot and onto the heel of the boy in front of me, whose entire shoe came off. The processing choir stopped as he put his shoe back on.