A New Teacher's Welcoming Pt. 02

It's highly recommended that you read part one of this story before this one. Cheers.

If it hadn't been for the plume of dust that lingered above their driveway, I would have got lost for sure. Sharon Arnold, my immediate boss in the English faculty, lived with her husband Marcus on a property about eight kilometres out of town. Eucalypts lining the drive and a cow letter box were the only clues I'd been given other than 'It's just down Maynard Lane.'

My car, still full of my humble possessions, rattled down the corrugated dirt driveway. A cold six-pack of beer added a treble high to the mid-range of the boxer engine and the bass of the weary suspension.

Their home was certainly impressive. Unlike many others I drove past on the way, this was a modern home with large glass north facing windows that looked out over an in-ground pool and the farm beyond.

With nothing to distract me other than buying a cheap steak, a tub of salad and some beer, I arrived right on time.

A few guests were already wading in the pool, children ran about screaming and the barbecue was smoking. I was introduced to everyone by Marcus, a tall likeable man who took my beer and passed me one of his own homebrews. I'm usually reluctant to drink homebrew, I've had some paint strippers in my time, but this one was superb.

Once I'd discovered that Marcus was one of the local real estate agents I asked about local rentals and was pleased to discover that he managed the Teacher Housing units.

"Are you flying solo?" he asked me as he topped up my third beer.

"Yeah," I sullenly replied, "Bit of a back story there."

"Let me guess," he said "You've been going out for years but when she found out you were going out the back of woop-woop she bailed on the whole relationship."

My open mouth and wide eyes answered better than words could.

"You're not alone there sunshine, believe me," he said. "You may not like it now, but it's a lot better that she never came here rather than she show up, complain about everything and then deciding that she wants to leave. That causes all kinds of bloody headaches."

"Here, here," said Geoff, a sandy-haired Physical Education teacher. "My ex-wife moaned and whinged for two years before she finally left."

"How long ago was that?" I had to ask something.

"Five years now," he said and winked at Marcus, "Life's been damned fine ever since, let me tell you."

"Do you have a partner now?"

"Inquisitive fucker aren't you?" he said humorously, "Typical English teacher, always asking the questions."

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

"Yep. That's Kim over there," he pointed with his bottle to a group of women sitting watching children in the pool. "Short brown hair, white top, black skirt."

I followed his beer-pointer and Kim must have felt our eyes upon her as she smiled and waved. She was a damn fine looking woman. Olive skin, tall and fit, without being muscled.

"Is she a teacher too?"

"The questions never end," he popped some chips into his mouth, "No, she's a nurse at the hospital."

People kept pouring in and soon enough there was about thirty people all milling about like it was a Saturday night.

When the principal of the school wandered in I was immediately introduced to him and his very tall, somewhat commanding wife, Kelly.

Almost as tall as me, and I'm nearly six foot, she was attractive, yet in a very conservative way. Her shoulder length light brown hair had streaks of blonde running through it, her body was thin and lithesome.

Whilst he was small and fragile looking, and apparently a strong Christian, Kelly had that distinct edge of someone with secrets.

When Kelly and I shook hands she held mine for just that bit longer, and when she finally released mine, she looked me up and down as if she was examining a horse.

Marcus kind of gave me a wry smile as I stood there, uncertain of what to do, but it was the principal who spoke first, easing away the weird silence that had befallen our corner of the world.

"I can't stay long tonight," he said, "I have our first combined churches gathering tonight."

He took a bottle of soft drink out of his bag and proceeded to drink it as if it was a nice cold lager. I didn't like him at all.

"Six churches all coming together to really try to change some things in this town, to try and bring some of god's love to the town."

I really, really didn't like him at all.

Oddly his wife made no reaction whatsoever. She just opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. I noticed that she had a tattoo of a rose on her ankle. I know it's wrong to generalise, but Kelly was a very interesting person, with no doubt, an interesting past.

"Am I the only new teacher here?" I didn't recognise anyone from the workshops.

"Probably," Marcus said, "Most of them are more likely than not at home panicking about tomorrow. Begs the question as to why you're not, but anyway, each to their own."

"I'm staying at the pub," I said "It's not really conducive to lesson prep."

"Fair enough," Geoff said and stood up, "I'm going in for a dip. Did you bring your swimmers?"

I nodded in the affirmative. "I did, but I think that they're in the car somewhere."

"You're probably the same size as me," Marcus said, "I've got some spares inside."

I didn't really want to wear another man's swimmers so I excused myself, knocked the beer down my gullet, and went back to the car. I nodded to a few of the assembled guests as I passed them by, checking the female staff members as I did so.

I had to half empty my car in search for my swimmers and board shorts, and my repacking was a haphazard affair. I was keen to check out their home, so rather than sneak a change behind the car, I headed towards the house. For such a hot, dry climate, the lawn was lush, doubtless watered from either the nearby river, or from deep within the earth.

The house was an interesting blend of the old and new. An older home had been nicely extended towards the north where what appeared to be mud bricks had been rendered and teamed with naturally oiled timber windows. I noticed some movement down the long hallway so I tentatively pulled the chrome lever handle down and opened the door. The internal pressure of the evaporative air conditioner initially made opening the door more difficult than normal, but after a good shove I was inside enjoying the cooler air. I could hear some voices coming down the hall so I headed in that direction.

I passed the kitchen where the benches were scattered with empty wine bottles and chip wrappers rocking under the air conditioners breeze. A cat looked up at me from its chair, a look of evil intent on its face. An overweight dog of indiscernible breeding pulled itself to its feet, and after giving the cat a cursory glance and a sidestep, quickly sniffed my legs, checked to see if I had food in my hands, and after discovering that they were empty, turned and went into the laundry and exited through the doggie door.

I heard a giggle come from the end of the hallway and I was naturally drawn to it. Fortune, they say, favours the brave, so being the coward that I am I didn't go forth and listen in, rather I turned into the bathroom and very quickly got changed. It was on my exit that the cocktail hearing, that ability to recognise your name when it's whispered in conversation, kicked in. I'd just passed a room that looked like a study when I heard it.

"His name is Julian," is what stopped me dead in my tracks. "He's from Sydney."

I recognised the voice as Sharon's, but the other person's voice was a mystery. I edged closer to the door, eager to discover what they were talking about.

"I think he'll go alright," Sharon said, "I mean he's a lot hotter than that other bloke in maths."

"Is he good looking?" the anonymous voice asked.

"Yeah," Sharon said, "I'd fuck him."

I almost laughed out loud at my supervisor's audacious behaviour, but I internalised my hysteria and kept on listening, the next few lines nearly had me guffawing.

"But," the stranger's voice said, "you'd fuck anyone."

"Well," Sharon said, "If he's as big as, and as dirty as, his predecessor, we'll both be fucking him."

I threw my head back in shock and smacked it on the wall behind me. The noise in my head from the collision seemed louder than it probably was, but when I heard the next line from the unknown woman, I simply panicked.

"Let's go check him out then," she said.

The adrenalin suddenly kicked in my usual flight response. I had to hide so I headed back down the hallway, quickly ducked into the study and hid, like some pathetic spy, behind the door.

I heard them open the bedroom door and come down the hall. Just outside where I was hiding the stranger asked a question that at the time, seemed completely unrelated. "Do you think that he's the kind that will join the boat club?" the stranger asked Sharon who immediately preceded her answer with a chuckle.

"Well maybe," she said "Let's just hope so, shall we?"

I couldn't quite make out what they were talking about and I halted all thoughts about it when I heard Sharon stop walking and reverse back towards me up the hallway.

"Hang on a sec," she said with a suspicious tone to her voice.

I curled my toes in terror as the footsteps became closer and closer. I was about to step out and surrender, try to charm my way out of my conundrum, but Sharon grabbed the handle of the door and muttering 'Bloody Marcus,' quickly closed it.

I realised that I'd been holding my breath, and I quietly let it dissipate as their voices disappeared with the closing of the door to the outside world.

My heightened awareness of all around me thankfully allowed me to catch, ever so quickly, movement in my periphery. Marcus was running at a fair clip across the yard towards the house and I suspected that he had somehow seen, or sensed, my presence in the room.

As I went to leave my clothes brushed against a pile of post packs and other stationery items causing them to cascade down onto the keyboard, bringing the sleeping computer to life. As I opened the door to leave, the image of two naked women lounging by the pool that was just outside the window, one a stunning dark-haired woman with a short haircut, and the other, namely Sharon, shone brightly and arousingly from the screen.

Marcus was almost at the front door as I reluctantly, and gently, closed the office door. Keeping low, as if I was taking machine gun fire in a trench, I ran down the hall, sidestepped into the laundry, and bolted out into the backyard.

I nearly tripped over the sleeping dog and turned back towards the front of the house where I'd parked the car. I continued my ninja run, trying to keep myself hidden behind some native shrubs and hedges, and arrived at the car just as another vehicle entered the long driveway.

Feeling confident that I had managed to remain invisible, I cockily threw my towel over my shoulder and began to shove all my clothes back into the Outback. In retrospect, this is when it all changed because somehow, between getting undressed and getting to the car, my shirt, a distinctive blue patterned garment, went missing. I tried to remember where I'd last seen it. I could see it in my mind's eye on the chair in the office, but after that, in the rush to get out of the house, somehow I'd dropped it. I ruffled through a suitcase and pulled out an old Beatles t-shirt and whipped it on.

I walked back to the path behind the bushes and looked back towards the house. I could see all the way to the back door where the dog was now excitedly yelping at Marcus. My soul sunk to the ground as I realised that my shirt was either in the office, the hall or the laundry. I hoped for the latter two, at least then I can simply say I was getting changed, but I just knew it was in the office; and with my luck, it just had to be.

I knew that I would have to make another incursion into the study to try to gather it up, and maybe check out that picture again, but the sight of Marcus running back across the yard with a shotgun yelling, 'Where is the bastard', nearly made me cack my pants.

When I saw that he was scanning across the lawn I realised that his prey was a real snake in the grass, not a human one.

I slammed down the boot and he quickly glanced up at me before holding up his hand to deter me from moving forward. I took this as an opportune time to sneak back into the house, but the other car that was coming up the driveway pulled alongside.

So my plan, for now anyway, was thwarted. I checked out the family that had pulled up and waved at the children as they piled out, oblivious to the man with the shotgun.

"Kids," Marcus called out, "head around the back way. There's a snake out here somewhere."

They all ground to a sudden halt and turned 180 degrees on their heels.

"Okay everyone," said the voice of their mother, "you heard Marcus, around through the laundry."

I was yet to see the face of the disembodied voice of authority, but when I did, I think I may stared for too long.

"Hi there," said the woman who only minutes earlier I had seen in two dimensions and topless.

Maybe it wasn't as long as I thought it was, but words suddenly failed me as I gathered in the beauty of the woman before me. Her black hair was cut to a bob, framing elegantly her classic 1930's features. Her body was petite and she wore a colourful sarong tied around her breasts.

"I'm Jenny," she held out her hand to me and I slowly shook it as I stumbled through telling her my own name.

"Hi Julian. You're the new English teacher, aren't you?" she smiled broadly at my nervous demeanour ,and when I didn't answer, continued the questioning. "Have you just arrived as well?"

"Me? Umm yes, and no," I replied awkwardly, "I just got changed, ready for a swim."

"Right," Jenny said, "Well, don't get in front of Marcus, he's a terrible shot." Marcus just looked up and humorously flipped her the bird. "Best we go back in through the house."

This was perfect. I could go back inside without raising any suspicions and search for my shirt. Hopefully it would be in the laundry and I'd be set.

"When did you get to town?" Jenny asked.

"Last night," I noticed her looking at me in bewilderment and thought I'd better explain.

"It was a last minute thing, the department changed everything, my girlfriend and I were supposed to go to Bathurst, but they changed it and sent me here."

"Is she coming later?" Jenny asked.

For a moment I felt a slight churning of emotion in my gut, but I took a deep breath, deep enough for her to notice, and said, "No, we've.. she's not coming."

Jenny just walked beside me as I let the despair wash over me.

Thankfully she changed direction. "Where are you staying?"

"At the pub," I said, "The Federal."

"The pub? That's a bit tempting isn't it?"

I initially thought that she was talking about Erin and Georgie, but soon came to realise she meant the bar.

"Hopefully I'll find somewhere soon." I decided to answer the question that I'd thought she'd asked, not the one that she meant.

"And yes, it is a bit tempting."

A blast of shotgun fire startled us both and sent the kids screaming. A second blast had Jenny laughing.

"How could he have missed?"

"Maybe he's just making sure."

We were back at the house and as we walked into the back yard and turned into the laundry, my eyes were darting everywhere, searching for my distinctive shirt.

"No snakes here," Jenny said, "Dogs keep them away."

"Oh, I'm not..." I stopped myself from giving it away. Jenny just laughed.

I was going to head back into the study but in the intervening time, the house had filled with people getting drinks, using the toilet or just milling in the cool.

I had no chance at all to sneak into the office and I could see that the door was still firmly closed. I couldn't even brave a peek.

I then decided to bide my time. I'd wait until much later, or at some other opportune time, like when most everyone was gone, and try again then. I surveyed the lounge, hoping that maybe I dropped it and it had been picked up and placed over a chair. I toyed with the idea of asking if anyone had seen it, but if it was in the office, well, then my self-incrimination would have been total and absolute.

Sharon was busy in the kitchen and I tried to not look at her, to not see her topless in my mind's eye.

"In for a swim?" I heard her ask, but considering that there were about ten people in the room, I pretended not to hear her, trying not to bring attention to myself. It didn't work.

"Oi, Julian," I had to look. She was pointing at me with a knife that had about a ten inch blade. "Enjoy your swim."

She knew I'd heard her the first time, I could tell.

Marcus was walking back towards the house with the decapitated carcass of a brown snake in one hand, the cocked open right angle of the shotgun in the other.

"Christ," I exclaimed, genuinely shocked at the size of the reptile. "That's huge."

Kids ran screaming past me and headed out the door, ignoring the sight of a man swaying the torso of the world's second deadliest snake in his hand. Marcus flipped the lid of a box and dropped the bloody reptile inside. My questioning look garnered an answer.

"I'll feed it to the chooks," he nonchalantly said, "They love 'em."

A trickle of blood ran out from under the timber slats of the box and meandered across the tiles.

Dead, bloated kangaroos on the roadside, lambs killed by foxes, dingoes or the heat, snakes shot with no remorse or legality. Life and death out here was more tangible, more acknowledged than my previous urban existence.

"Off for a swim then?" Marcus asked. "It's bloody hot."

"Yeah," I muttered, "Best wash the dust off."

"Grab another beer, I've got heaps."

"Sure," I said, "It's good stuff." I wasn't lying either. This was good, although I think it was because it was so much stronger than the standard beers I was used to drinking. Marcus seemed to be reading my mind when he said,

"It's about six per cent. You might want to go easy on it."

Suffice to say, after the day I'd had so far, I ignored him.

--

When I stumbled out of the chair, knocking my drink across the pavers in the process, I came to the realisation that I was pissed.

I'd had a swim, eaten a fine barbecued dinner, consumed a bucket of crisps, but the home brew, and my frazzled, tired mind, were conspiring against me.

I still had found no opportunity to get into the study where my shirt was certainly located. So as others packed their children into cars and the mosquitos descended, I decided to just give up on the shirt, to lie my way out of it somehow, if I was ever confronted about its appearance in the home office.

I gathered up my belongings, and was momentarily tempted to grab my beers out of the esky, something that is truly taboo, and take them with me, but my good sense prevailed.

My departure was coy. I waved at a few people I recognised from school, nodded goodbye to Jenny longer than I should have, bid farewell to Marcus and Sharon and slid away to my car.

I packed my belongings into the boot and cursed myself for not asking anyone about some kind of accommodation that I could access for my two year tenure.

As others departed, my car was now isolated from the remaining vehicles and Jenny's was also gone. I could just see a crowd of children mingling about the pool and although I couldn't really remember what her charges looked like, I was pretty sure that they weren't still there.

I spun the ignition on and readied myself for reversing when I saw a police highway patrol car drive slowly past the house. With more than the allowable level of grog in my blood, I was a sitting duck for a copper that knew that drinks were being recklessly consumed by some of the guests, especially me.