In the Scheme of Things

"Go on kiss her !"

"Chicken!! Bet ya're too chicken to kiss her!"

The shouts echoed over the lawn, beating on the walls, thrashing back and forth, "Go on kiss her...kiss, kiss, kiss her," in the porch walls as he stood talking , tongue tripping, into her eyes- conscious of the stale dry taste of his mouth.

"Shut up! Shut up! For Gawd's sake shut up!" Jim bellowed to the gate. Inside his head the voice played and replayed the scenarios of possibilities. All ended with his face blushing red and......... silence.

His tongue let him down. Talk stopped. Stuttered. Stopped again.

He turned. Walked away. Hands, sweat damp, jammed deep in his pockets. Jane called, "What did you want to ask me?" over and over to his retreating back.

"Chicken!"

"Can't ya kiss a girl?"

"Scared are ya?" shouted the hydrangas. He threw a stone at them.

"Shove off ya sods! I didn't want to kiss her anyway."

The shadow of the memorial tower whacked over his shoulders. They sagged as he scuffed his way towards his bike leaning against the gutter.

The handlebars leered at him. The voices jeered on as he rode up the hill through the tower's shadow and home.

"Damn them! Damn them! They would wouldn't they? Why can't they leave me alone? Let me get on with it... with asking her out instead of spying on me." He swore as he bent low over the bars, angrily straining on the pedals, gathering speed as he wheeled round the corner and into the drive.

He crunched up the drive from the shed. Slammed into his bedroom, ignoring the question hanging grimly in the air. "What happened son? Did you have some trouble at school?"

" h..... he seized her in his arms. She looked up into his eyes. "Yes I'll go out with you. Why haven't you asked before?" h ..... in books it was all too easy. Damn it! Damn it!"

"Mates!. You could never count on them." He muttered to his pillow. "Why did the others have to stuff up finding out anyway?" He counted the hand-full of coins clutched under the mattress. If she had said yes. If he could have asked. These were the picture tickets.

He pictured his mother's ever consoling advice: "Never mind son. Remember, You can only ask and she could only say Yes or No. No is more sensible at your age. Ten is too young you know. Be sensible. Why don't you go and read a book?"

It was no use asking her what he should do. Anyway she'd only laugh. His brother would blab it round the place. He resigned himself to escape into the book.

**********

"Books," Jim thought,"were useful. A book allowed you to escape. To become someone else. To learn things." He glanced around the library. It was, as usual, empty. He dived into the blue-black of the page and the world vanished.

"Gidday. Mind if I sit here?"

He grunted, turning the page as he did so. The sound of someone sitting and silence. The soft flutter of riffled pages. A sigh. He did not look up. He was deep into the book. Silence and the tickling insistence of someone looking at him. The tickling grew and he looked up, into the chocolate dark centres of Arlene's green eyes.

"Oh. Hi, it's you Arlene. How are you?" The girl smiled at him. He pushed his glasses up his nose and grinned back. "This is a great book. Have you read it?" He held up the book so she could see the cover. She shook her head. "You should. Vanity Fair. It's a neat story."

Arlene grinned. She had nice teeth. One of the front ones was a little crooked and overlapped its neighbour. "Cute." He thought. "There's beauty in an imperfection..... Who had said that? Must've been in something I've read recently. But it certainly describes Arlene. How do you say, 'I think your teeth are nice. The way one tooth is slightly crooked makes you look kind of beautiful?' Do you come and say it or do you just think it and say something else?" He grinned back, pushed his glasses back up his nose and dived into the blue-black sea again. Dobbin and his Becky filled his world. Dimly, he was aware of Arlene's presence, sitting, scratching his forehead with her eyes, on the other side of the table. Arlene was always in the library. She always sat at the same table as him. As far as he knew she hadn't read a book in the past three weeks. She just sat, with her ring-binder and text-books, in the chair opposite him , flicked the pages of her notes and looked at him.

The bell rang. Dobbin's world closed. He stood. Arlene pushed her chair into the table and knocked her folder onto the floor. Her notes spilled over his feet. "I'll help you pick them up." He mumbled and knelt to shuffle them into order. Arlene knelt too. He could smell the cool-softness of soap-scent. He tapped the pages square and handed them to her. Her fingers touched his and held them against the pages.

"Thanks." The cool tips of her fingers stroked the back of his hand. "That was clumsy. I should take more care where I put my things next time eh?"

"That's OK . We'd better get to class or else we'll get a detention. It's no trouble really." The jolt of her fingers on his hand made him stutter. Her green eyes smiled at him. He felt like kissing her.

At the library door they parted. Jim watched her turn the corner of the block. "She could be Becky." He thought, "She's got nice legs.... real neat ankles. I wonder why she comes into the library every day? " He turned, shoved his free hand into his pocket, and headed for class. As he walked he counted the coins with his fingers. He had $5.00 . Enough, with the money he had at home, to go to the Senior School Dance. "I'll ask Arlene if she wants to go. You never know. She can only say Yes or No."

The next day Arlene wasn't in the library and George Crawley told everyone in the class that he, George, had asked Arlene to go to the Senior School dance on Friday night and that she'd said yes. And that they were also going out again on the Saturday night.

The world shook like it had been hit by a wave. He swore. Why hadn't he thought about asking her out before, after all she had been sitting beside him in the library for the past month?

***************

For a change he hadn't been sea sick, even having to share a six berth cabin, throbbing with the heat and noise of the engine, deep in the bowels of the ferry. He'd woken early, before dawn, and staggered up through the decks to the railing. He leaned against the bow rail enjoying the cool dawn wind. In the distance he could see Wellington's mouth smiling a welcome to the boat. The red-gold of the dawn stroked the hills. The white teeth of houses glinted at him. He smiled to himself. "The ap's will be surprised to see me." He glanced at his watch.The ferry was on time. If he got off quickly and, given a few good lifts, he should be home by '0.00am.

"Look! There's dolphins riding the bow wave! Beautiful aren't they?" Jim looked down at the diving shapes, twisting and turning in the white of the waves.

"I like watching the dolphins when I come across on the ferry. You know, sometimes you can watch them all the way across the strait." He turned towards the voice. "Once I stayed up all night and watched them swim beside the boat in the moonlight and into Wellington harbour as we came in the morning. They were fascinating." Through his salt sprayed glasses he recognised the blonde hair and shape of the girl from the ship's bar the night before. They'd talked till the bar had closed and they had found themselves alone in the room. They'd worked out that they had the same lectures at varsity. They had often seen each other around the campus and were even in the drama club together. She was going to the Easter Tournament at Victoria as part of Canterbury's one act play entry.

"Gidday, Kathy. Sleep OK? " She smiled confirmation. He continued. "It wasn't as hot last night as it has been on some crossings. Quite calm too."

"I slept well. Woke up when I heard the stewards banging around though. So I thought I may as well get up and watch us come into Wellington."

He took pride in pointing out the land-marks. The slash of Rongotai airport. The boat-sheds squat and white against the cliffs of Shelley's Bay. He'd done this crossing many times. It was good to show someone, who'd not been on the ferry before, the hills of Port Nicholson... Port Nick... Poneke , as the Maori called it.

The wind cut cold off the sea. Kathy shivered, through her jersey. "You cold?" He asked. She nodded. "Want to share my duffle coat?" He held his arm up and she snuggled in under his arm and inside the coat.

"You're warm." she said, "Just like a furnace. What makes you so hot?"

Her hair, sea-spray damp, stroked his face. His nose tickled with the sweet warm woman smell of her perfume.

"Look!" He pointed at the white swirling that was Barrett's Reef. They were inside the harbour now."That's where the Wahine went down. It's lucky it's calm today. I wouldn't want to be up on deck in the sort of weather that they had when they hit the reef."

Kathy turned inside his coat. Her forehead rested against his lips. Her hair flicked across his glasses. He could feel her breasts against his chest. Her arms were round his waist. "That wind is really bitter. It must be blowing up from the Antarctic. It certainly cuts through you doesn't it?"

He nodded, his lips on her forehead.

"Why don't you do the toggles up and keep us really warm?" She said. He did as she asked. It felt comfortable. "Do you have to head off north as soon as you get off the ferry?" She asked.

"I don't know... I'm not sure." He mumbled. "I did sort of promise the ap's that I'd be home for Easter."

Kathy snuggled in closer to him. He was getting an erection. He hoped Kathy wouldn't notice. "You could come to the Easter Tournament and then go on home, It's only three days."

He gazed at the hills, the doll-houses scattered over them and the looming cranes of the harbour. "I'm not sure. I've got nowhere to stay."

He could feel her hand rub his jeans. He moved away. She followed him tight inside the coat. "Why not? Come on it could be fun. Tournaments are always fun... lots of parties and ..." Through the coat he could feel the firm curve of her bottom. She pressed against him. Her face tilted up towards him. He bent his lips towards hers.

"Hey! You the young bloke wanted a ride North?" A hand hit his shoulder. He looked up.

"Yeah. That's me. Why?"

Well if ya' want the ride ya'd better rattle ya' dags Ścos I'm plantin' boot as soon as I'm off the boat. What'll ya say? Ya want the ride or not?"

He looked at Kathy's face. He could feel her hips hard against his. His hands lifted from the small of her back . He undid the toggles of the coat. "I'd better take the ride while it's going. You never know I mayn't pick one up after the tournament." He backed away from the rail. He turned and walked through the doors into the ferry to get his pack from the cabin. As he went to go down the stairs he turned to wave to Kathy but she wasn't there.

It was not until he was half way up the Himitangi Straight , traveling at 80 and almost home that he realised what Kathy had been suggesting. "You stupid, blind idiot. You great simpleton. How could you? How in the world could you not think...." He cursed himself. "How typical. How many times was it now that he ...?"

********

There were not that many times that you could be invited to a bloke's Twenty first without even knowing the guy. This was one of those times. He and Peter had been drinking in the Club for much of the afternoon when they had been given the invitation to the party.

The Twenty-First was in the Glen Afton Hall which was handy as Peter had his flat just a block away and they could flake out there after the Party without having to risk the drive, over metalled roads, into town. They worked their way through the cigarette smoke and waving glasses to the bar from which they could check the place out and decide if it was worthwhile staying on.

"Christ man you'd have to be desperate to go for any of them..They must be all over fifty and speeding!" Peter swore, "What happened to all the women we saw earlier?"

"Must've shoved off when they saw you comin'.May as well concentrate on the booze....... "

"Hey! Ya see what I see?" Peter's voice rose over the disco's thud. "Ya see the bird in the orange mini?"

They squinted through the haze. "Ya mean the little blonde?"

"Yeah. Sure mate! That's the one! What d'ya think?"

"Don't know really. Didn't get a good look at what was in it."

"Oh jees, mate," said Peter, "You'd be a right burke wouldn't ya? That's the trouble with you... You never get into it... always keep your distance... What's with ya anyway? Can't ya see a decent piece when it's around? I'm off huntin' even if you're not." Peter launched himself in the general direction of the orange mini.

Jim leaned against the wall. The evening looked to be heading the usual direction. Wasted effort. Peter swung past, clutched deep in the arms of a large fat woman. He'd been snared even before he had found the orange mini'ed blonde.

"Hi."

He looked down. It was the girl in the orange mini."Oh? Hi. Great party isn't it?" He stammered. "You having a good time?"

She smiled at him."Should be. I'm Amy. It's my brother's party. You having fun?"

"Yeah. Not bad." The M.C announced a dance. "You want to dance?" Jim dropped his glass on the table and led the way to the dance floor. She fitted into his shoulder. Her hair tickled his nose as they danced. "You'll have to watch out." He shouted over the music. "Peter's chasing you. Reckons he'll pick you up tonight."

She laughed and followed him off the floor. "Let's go outside for a while." She said," Get out of this smoke." Once outside she tucked herself under his arm. "You're very hot." Amy murmured. She stumbled closer into his side and pushed her hand into his hip pocket. He started as though he'd been hit by an electric fence. He had'nt planned on this.

He thought rapidly, what, according to the books, should he say? "You want a coffee? We could go to Peter's place, borrow his heater and coffee. He wouldn't mind. He's at your brother's twenty-first."

Peter's place was stark. The cupboard empty of coffee. A solidified box of Milo was jammed against the jug. The fridge held a bottle of sour milk, half a bottle of auce and a couple of bottles of beer. "Hey, look I've coffee at my place. We could whip back there. Grab a coffee and be back before any one nticed we'd gone. The car's out the back. Shall we?"

At his flat he busied himself with the kettle and rattling cups while Amy found the heater and made herself comfortable. She turned the stereo on. He handed her the coffee and sat beside her. He was conscious of her scent. The soft smell of powder and perfume. He was aware that he was watching the steady rise and fall of her breasts. They moved in time to the music.

"You want another coffee?" He asked.

Jim took her cup and moved towards the kitchen. Amy followed him. He put the cups down and turned towards the jug. She was in the way. She took his hand and pulled him to her. She ran her fingers up his neck, bending his head to her. She leant up and kissed him. She pushed her tongue against his lips. He jumped. This did not happen in anything he'd read What should happen now? The wine he'd drunk at the party made his head spin. He felt dizzy.

She led him into the lounge, towards the couch. "This," He thought, "was IT!... The big moment.... THE MAIN EVENT!" They fell onto the couch. Her arms were around his neck. They kissed. His hand moved to cup her breast. She pushed his hand away.

"Not now." She whispered. "Not yet."

For what seemed an eternity they looked into each others eyes, kissed and murmured stories about thmselves. The record player ground to a stop. He reached out and tugged at the zip on the front of her dress. It gave slightly. He could just see the edge of her bra, the warm sunbrown of her breast and the white skin below the bra. He shivered. "This, definitely, was IT! I'm going to score!" He thought.

Amy stroked his ears, ran her fingers down the back of his neck , and, pouting , blew him a kiss. He ran his finger tip along the edge of her bra, teasing her skin. He could feel himself getting excited. He hoped, prayed, that nothing embarassing would happen. Amy's hand pushed under his belt, pulling his shirt from his trousers. Her hand tickled the base of his spine. He quivered. He succeeded in pulling her zip undone and, clumsily, unclipping the hook of her bra.

As he leant to kiss the pinkbrown of her breasts he became concsious of the urgent need to pee. His bladder felt as though it would burst. There was nothing for it. "Excuse me. I've got to go." He stammered, as masterfully as he could, and headed to the bathroom.

Standing up made his head spin. A combination of drink and sex , he thought as he leaned his head on the cool wall tiles. His stomach heaved into his mouth. He knelt over the bowl and vomited. After a time his stomach stopped heaving. The retching died and he was able to stand to wash his face and return to Amy. "I'm going to score! I'm going to score!" He sang to himself. "I can't believe it. My luck's in!"

He turned on the tap, began to splash cold water on his face and the front door slammed behind the sharp click of heels on the footpath.

************

"Life was never fair," he thought, gazing into the warm red of his glass. "Another bloody Sunday and what've I got? Nothing... not even a hang-over. Life's a drag - even at the best of times and surely a bottle of good red was the best of times?" The glass glared back at him. Its pupil purple in the bottom, challenging him to do something about it. Guilty, he poured the remains of the bottle over his accuser. "That'll teach ya."

The pleasure was shortlived.

"Bugger! The last bloody bottle."

With nothing to do and all afternoon to do it in Sunday was looking to be a real bastard of a day. Bored, he thumbed through his address book looking for someone... anyone to share the mood. "No, why bother? No-one wants to sit around and get depressed." He threw the book at the telephone and lay back on the sofa. "May as well sleep. There's nothing else to do. Gawd what a bloody awful day if the most exciting thing you can do is sleep!"

Brinnnng... Brinnng. He shook his head. The grey-pink haze of evening spread through the room. "What?" The phone screamed again. He staggered to silence it. "Yeah? What time is it?"

"Hi That you Jim? What ya up to? Ya forgotten ya on restuarant duty this evening? You were meant to be here half an hour ago. Do ya need a ride?"

"Damn. I'd forgotten all about it. I've been dozing. Must've slept the afternoon away. I'll pull finger. Yeah I'll need a ride. Be ready in fifteen. Can someone pick me up?"

"No worries. We'll cover for ya. I'll get someone to meet ya. See you soon."

Inside fifteen minutes he was changed, shaved and ready. He glanced in the mirror to splash after-shave over his face. "Haven't even knicked myself either. " He congratulated himself, "Not bad for a quick shave and a fuzzy head!"

There was a crunch of gravel on the drive. A sharp parp-parp of a horn and a quick rev of a engine. "I'll be there in a minute." He shouted, checking his pockets for the wine knife and tip bag. while buttoning up the embroidered blue and gold of his waistcoat.

Satisfied, he slammed the door behind him and raced for the car and his ride to work. "Gee thanks for the ride. I must've slept. I'd drunk a bottle of our best red. Must've dropped off. Forgot all about ....." He babbled to the driver as he searched for his seat-belt.

Buckled up, he looked at his driver. Her green eyes smiled at him. He felt himself sliding. "So you're Jim. I've heard about you. You're the permanent part-timer aren't you?" Jim nodded. "Anyway I'm Amelia. I've just started Mario reckoned you'd need a ride. Lucky I hadn't any tables to do... anyway he said to tell you that you had to show me the ropes with the wine tonight. Hope you don't mind. I know nothing about wine."

"No I don't mind. It'll be fun. Could have a few drinks afterward if we finish early. That is if you want?"

Amelia's eyes flicked from the road to him. She smiled. .The day lifted ..Jim's slide into her green eyes continued.

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