6. The Death of the Dunger?

The roof of the Dunger sounded like it might cave in. Thunder and lightning rolled around the hills of Wildbush Area School and Pablo the Colombian teacher was leaning on the broken door frame of Tim’s classroom, blowing smoke at a spiderweb. 

“This rain is mental! Four days in a row, My class are nuts! They need to run around.” Tim was on his beginning teacher release day and had found himself the new best friend of Pablo. Apparently, word had gotten back to Pablo that Tim didn’t rat him out for smoking in class and now Pablo was rewarding that loyalty with his presence. 

The door creaked as Pablo leaned against it, “Tim, I taught in Colombia in the 90s. If children acted up, we threatened their family with murder.” He blew more smoke at the spider huddling in the corner of its web. Tim stopped rearranging the novels in the library corner and looked at Pablo, waiting for a punch line.

“Murder? I’m not sure if that would fly here as proper behaviour development. It’s unlikely to be found in the PB4L handbook.” Tim returned to the bookshelf and felt a little unsafe in the company of Pablo. The rain was coming down so hard now the paths had started flooding. Tim was thankful for his Redbands and umbrella, but he didn’t know if the roof would hold.

“PB4L,” Pablo laughed. “This country is soft. A couple of threats never hurt anybody. I remember there was a boy in my class when I moved here. He thought he was tough, he challenged me, so I put my cigarette out on his neck. Then I told him that if he told anyone I’d…”

Tim interrupted, “woah, woah, woah… Pablo, I don’t want to know!”

“Well the moral of the story is he went on to be a good boy and was nice to every teacher from that day on… I could talk to Zavian for you if you like?”

Tim felt a chill run down his spine, “Thanks, Pablo, that won’t be necessary. Zavian is just a little misunderstood. He needs a bit of love, not a murder threat.” 

There was a crack above their heads. 

“That didn’t sound good,” Pablo put his smoke out on the window and threw it on to the concrete path. It floated away towards the admin block. He walked into the room and looked up at the ceiling. A drip splashed off his forehead. “Definitely not good, Tim. You might need Pete to have look at this.”

“Who’s Pete?” 

“Pete is the caretaker. A great man. I solved a little problem he was having with the first XV driving across the field every Tuesday and Thursday.”

By now the drip had become a steady flow and seemed to be getting worse. Tim emptied the rubbish bin and placed it down to catch the water. 

“Right. Where do I find Pete?”

“In the sheds, Tim. Come, I will show you.”

As Tim and Pablo arrived at the sheds, they were soaked to the bone and greeted by the sounds of a very upset man in his 60s who slammed the phone down as they stepped through the door. 

“This bloody flood! I tell you what Pablo, can you work your magic on the weather? All this rain is an absolute ball ache. Who’s this bloke?”

“Pete, this is Tim. He’s in the Dunger. The roof is leaking and he wants you to fix it immediately. I can not fix the weather, Pete, but is there anything else I can do? Any kids you need sorted out?”

“No kids, Pablo. Thanks mate.”

“Well, you let me know if anyone messes with you. Pablo always looks after his friends.” He said his goodbyes and headed back into the rain, lighting a smoke as he went. 

“Tim is it?” Pete reached out his oil-stained hand and was met by Tim’s who tried not to look uncomfortable as his hand returned a little greasier than it left. 

“Yeah, a pleasure to meet you, Pete. It’s a wet old day!”

“Great day to be a duck, mate. Now, what’s the matter with the Dunger?”

“It seems to have sprung a leak in the roof. I’ve got a bucket catching the water but it won’t hold long. Have you got anything that could help?”

Pete looked at his whiteboard which had lists of things to do, “I tell you what, Tim. You help me with a couple of things first and I’ll get that fixed up for you. Won’t take long.”

Tim agreed but was concerned the rubbish bin wouldn’t hold much longer. “No worries, Pete. We’ll need to empty the bin catching the water first though.”

“No time, mate. Jump on the trailer there. It won’t take two minutes.”

Tim looked at the small trailer on the back of the little John Deere mower. He knew he would look ridiculous but jumped on anyway. He sat on the side of the trailer and put up his umbrella. Pete laughed as he saw the umbrella go up, “That’s a cute umbrella, mate. Is it your mum’s?”

Tim knew he’d made a mistake by putting it up, but before he could say anything they were off. The mower jerked forward and Tim nearly fell off the back. They were greeted by a gust of wind that turned the umbrella inside out. The rain bucketed down on Tim’s head running straight down his back. He wrestled his hood on and tried to fix his umbrella. Pete was yelling about the jobs they had to do and Tim missed most of it. Something about a gutter growing more grass than Rastafarian. The canvas on the umbrella was flapping in the wind and the ribs of it were still upside down. The rain pelted down on his glasses and he could now see no further than a few metres. Pete drove over bumps and Tim had to hold on tight. Water was filling his Redbands and his socks were doing their best to soak up the moisture. They were only travelling at 10kp/h but it felt like he was risking his life by letting go of the trailer. He went back to fixing the umbrella, got the arms of it facing the right way, hooked the canopy back on and put it up again this time, holding it so the wind couldn’t get underneath. As soon as it was up, they stopped and Pete yelled, “Leave that thing here, mate. You can’t hold a ladder and an umbrella at the same time.”

They walked towards a red brick building with sagging gutters and headed towards the corner beside a Norfolk pine. Pete set up the ladder, handed Tim a bucket and said, “Head up there mate and just get rid of all the crap in the gutter.”

Tim stared at the bucket and looked back at Pete, “Me? I thought I was holding the ladder?”

“You’re young, mate. Easier if you go up. I’ll hold the ladder, up ya go.”

Tim began his journey up what felt like the longest ladder in the southern hemisphere. His glasses were fogging up, so halfway up he took them off and put them in his pocket, leaving him with a blurry view of the job. He continued up and reached the spouting. It was more blocked than the road works on the way to school. He reached in and pulled out handfuls of pine needles. He put it all in his bucket and went again. Eventually, he had the gutter cleared and headed back down the ladder. The descent was terrifying. The wind was howling, the rain was hammering on his hood, the ladder creaked and he couldn’t see what was happening. 

“Come on, Tim! We haven’t got all day,” came a shout from below. 

Tim reached the ground safely, “Done. There was a fair few needles in there, Pete! Let’s head to the Dunger.”

Pete agreed and Tim jumped back on the trailer. Tim rested his bucket of pine needles on his lap and they jerked forward once again. As they got to the Dunger, he heard the caretaker swear loudly. Tim couldn’t quite make out what was happening so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. Well, he pulled out the frame of the glasses. The bucket had managed to break them while riding on the back of the trailer. Tim swore under his breath and followed Pete to the Dunger. 

They were greeted by a raging torrent flowing from the roof, pouring directly into the bin, then out of the bin on the ground. Water was everywhere and Pete looked at Tim. “You didn’t mention it was a bloody emergency, Tim! Holy heck! These soft handed teachers, look at this! This bucket can hold about 5 litres and he puts it under Niagara Falls.”

Tim was in shock, holding both lenses of his glasses up to his eyes so he could see. “I probably needed a bigger bucket.”

“You go get Ms Gaylord and I’ll do my best here.” Pete continued to work and Tim grabbed his soaking-wet bag from under his desk and left the room. 

Tim was soaked, his glasses had broken and he had a sneaking suspicion his laptop was wrecked by the water. He walked into the admin block and dripped everywhere. He was greeted by Wendy the leader of the admin team. “Jeez, Tim! You’re dripping like a wet dog! Take your jacket and gumboots off at least when you come in here.”

Tim smiled and did as he was asked, “Is Ms Gaylord in?” he hung his jacket on the door handle and leaned against the counter.

“She’s in a meeting at the moment, is it urgent?”

“Well, yeah the Dunger is flooding. The roof has pretty much caved in and Pete’s in there trying to fix it. The whole room is pretty much stuffed. It’s got my bag and everything, I think my laptop will be wrecked.”

Wendy’s face turned to stone, “That’s not good, Tim. That’s not good at all. I’ll call her now.” she picked the phone up and had a conversation with Ms Gaylord. A moment later, Ms Gaylord came hurrying out of her office in full wet weather gear, with a toolbox and a ginormous tarpaulin. “Come on Tim! It’s time to save the Dunger.”

Tim couldn’t help but think, ‘Just let it die.”

He followed her through the storm and into the Dunger where he was amazed at what he saw. She went straight past Pete and up the ladder into the roof. Pete was yelling advice from the ground and a moment later, the flooding water had stopped flowing from the ceiling. She climbed back down, “All sorted, Pete. We will need a roofer here tomorrow, but the tarp should hold for now.” she turned to Tim, “It looks like your room will be out of action for a while Tim. Why don’t you move your stuff into Room 13. You can share with Lilly. She’s our other BT so it will make it easier for you two to have your BT meetings with Mr Daniels. Pete, I have meetings all day, so if you don’t need me any more?”

“No, thanks Ms Gaylord. I’ll take it from here.” 

As the principal left the room, Pete started taking down the ladder saying, “She’s a hell of a woman that Ms.Gaylord.”

Tim took a last look at the Dunger and was hopeful he would never be back in this room. Water had reached every part of the carpet and was soaking up the walls adding to the long list of things wrong with the room. He pulled his hood up and headed out into the wild weather, walking towards Room 13. 

Pete shouted as he left, “Try not to wreck that room too, Tim!”

That felt a little unfair to Tim, how was he meant to stop the flooding?

5. Where’s Zavian?

“Tim!?” there was a knock on the door of the Dunger. Tim quickly put his phone and locked it because he recognised the voice. During lunch times Tim liked to have a break from people and hid away from everyone, scrolling Tik Tok and Instagram.

“Yes?” Tim replied as he stood up and moved to unlock the door. This was tricky because the handle on the door needed to be jiggled just right to open it. 

It was Mr Daniels, “What’s this door locked for? Don’t you know that’s a fire hazard? You could burn to death if this room went up. You know Pablo smokes his durries in here, it could go up at any second.”

“Really? No, I didn’t know he smoked in here?” replied Tim. Today was not the day he was going to get offside with the Columbian teacher who seemed to give zero avocados about what people thought of him. Truthfully, Tim was intimidated by Pablo and thought he might have done some pretty nasty things back home. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr D?”

Mr Daniels was shaking his head at the artwork that was freshly stapled on the wall. “Tim, why would you think it’s OK to call me Mr D? And that’s crooked. Don’t you know you’re meant to move the ladder when putting up art? Otherwise, it looks like the stock market crash of 2008.” he turned from the art work to stare at Tim.

“Sorry, I thought Mr D was what people called you and yeah, I could have done that better, sorry. Anyway, how can I help you?”

Mr Daniels looked at Tim, “There’s only one way to say this, we think we’ve lost Zavian.”

Tim’s eyebrows nearly sprung off his face. Part of him was pleased that other teachers were now finding out what a ‘treat’ Zavian was to deal with, part of him needed to know more. 

“What do you mean… lost him?”

“Well,” Mr Daniels shuffled a bit, “apparently he was having a smoke with Sally the bus driver and the bus driver showed him how to drive the bus and then when the driver, Sally, got off the bus to get another smoke, Zavian took off with it. It’s the worst thing to drive too, it’s older than I am!”

Tim didn’t know what to say and he was holding a smile back in case this was serious. “So what’s happening now?”

“I was hoping you might know his Instantgram name. Apparently he puts everything on a Tickle tock.”

Now Tim was struggling to hold back his laughter, forget the smile. That was all over his face. “I’m not sure,” he chuckled, “I’ll check his desk. I think I heard someone say he has been writing on his desk.” Tim walked to Zavian’s desk and laughed again. “Here it is, King_Zeedogg_69”.

Mr Daniels threw his hands up, “Well look it up, Timothy! My phone doesn’t do any of that. Quickly! There’s a bloody school bus missing and a 12 year old nincompoop smoking in the driver's seat!” It was now evident that he was having a massive panic attack about the whole situation. 

Tim did as he was asked and for the third time, he burst out laughing. Zavian, true to form, had put everything on Tik Tok and was currently live, broadcasting from the driver's seat of the bus. He looked to be parked and answering questions from the 22 people watching.

“Shouldn’t I be at school? NO! I’m King ZeeDogg Boiiiiii. Who else have we got here? Suuuuup bro yeah I’ve got the whole bus. Na no one else here. Wanna lift?”

Tim had turned up the sound so Mr Daniels could hear and with every second he was turning redder and redder. “Tell him to get back here now!”

Tim had a hilarious thought, “Mr Daniels, how about this, I’ll go live with him and you can tell him yourself. He will freak out and everyone watching will think he’s in trouble! There’s 79 people watching.”

“That is a brilliant idea, Timothy. Go live with him and give me the phone. I’m going to give him the telling off of a lifetime!”

Tim clicked a few buttons and handed the phone to Mr Daniels who clearly had no idea how to work it because he put it up to his ear. “Zavian? Can you hear me?” he held the phone up to his face from a low angle, “Tim, he can’t hear me.”

“I can hear you, big daddy D! Hold the phone up a bit so all my loyal followers can hear you?” Zavian revved the engine and laughed, “I can’t hear you?”

The comments were flying up the page as people found out about Zavian and his bus.

477 watching.

One commenter said, ‘Mr Daniels sucks!’

Another said, ‘Cane it, Z! Drop the clutch!’

‘I’m just here for Mr Daniels on Tik Tok.’

Zavian was laughing his head off. There were now 759 people watching him.

Mr Daniels screamed, “Zavian! We have called the police and they know where you are! Bring the bus back now and it’ll be only a suspension.”

The comments were flying up the page, some of them with language that’s quite naughty. When Zavian heard the word police his face lost it’s glowing celebrity look. He looked out the window, bit his lip and turned his phone off. Mr Daniels was unaware he was still broadcasting live. “That’ll teach the little bugger. We haven’t actually called the police, Tim. That’s called ‘the old police trick’.”

“Clever name, Mr Daniels.” Tim took the phone back and checked the comments from the 1,788 people watching before turning it off.

‘Not cool big D!’

‘Zavian for Head Boy!’

‘ZeeDogg dropped nuts!’

‘Mr Jones is the MAN!’

He smiled, turned off the livestream and followed the speeding Deputy Principal out to the gate where they could already hear the rumbling sound of the oldest school bus in the world coming down the road. Zavian pulled up with a hand out the window pulling a full ‘shaka bra/hang loose’ combo. “Cheers, Jonesy for all the meaaaan content. Everyone loved it because you put Mr Daniels on!  No cops, big D! When does the suspension start?”

Mr Daniels launched himself up the steps and ripped the keys out of the ignition, “Get up! Get out! Get to Ms Gaylord’s office. NOW!”

Zavian was now starting to realise the seriousness of what he’d done because as he walked into Ms Gaylord’s office, Sally the bus driver was leaving in tears. She pulled the finger at Zavian and headed out the door yelling expletives not fit for a school admin area. Zavian walked in with his head down and phone pinging like crazy. He’d gone viral on social media, but right now, being viral made him sick to his stomach as he realised had to pay the price.

Tim didn’t follow them in, but there were senior kids in the office smiling at him. One of the bigger boys said, “That was a bold move putting big D on there like that.” 

Tim smiled, “It’s Mr Daniels to you.” The bell rang and he headed back to class with the sound of his own phone vibrating like crazy, because now, the whole community followed him on what Mr Daniels calls Tickle Tok. He entered the Dunger to a round of applause from his class. The rest of the day went smoothly without Zavian there. He smiled as he realised his class will be a bit quieter for a few days. 

Just as his afternoon lesson was beginning to flow, there was a knock at the door. It was Ms Gaylord. Tim jiggled the handle and welcomed her in, but as he did so, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Behind her was Zavian, eating a cheese toastie and smiling from ear to ear. 

“Zavian, take your seat,” she said.

Tim caught his breath, “What’s happening here? Is he going home? Surely he’s not back after stealing the school bus!”

Ms Gaylord smiled at Tim, “Tim, Zavian acted this way because he was hungry. He needed to get some food from the shop and this was the only way he could think of. If anything, it’s the school who failed to notice this poor boy needed help. And we don’t use ‘stole’ we are using ‘borrowed’.”

Tim was beside himself. He fell into his chair and protested, “But he was smoking with the bus driver? And he painted the school in a horrific light on social media! Surely that’s at least an in-school suspension?”

Zavian was loving this, his phone was still going crazy and now he was escaping punishment.

“Tim, it’s my understanding that your account was the one that allowed Mr Daniels to go ‘live’ with Zavian? Bringing more attention to the matter.” 

Tim’s stomach dropped, “Well yes, I did. But only becau…”

“Then don’t you think you could accept responsibility here and keep a better eye on Zavian? He’s clearly begging for attention.”

Tim looked at Zavian who was loudly eating his toastie, mouth open and dropping crumbs everywhere. 

He sighed, “Yes Ms Gaylord. I’ll do my best.”

Ms Gaylord left and the rest of the class was just as shocked as Tim was. “Right, well… Welcome back, Zavian.” He moved back to the board but couldn’t think of what he was actually teaching.

“Mr Jones, you can call me, King Zee Dogg if you like?”

Before Tim could say anything, Hēmi spoke, “Zavian, leave him alone. You’re not cool and stealing the bus is just stupid. You’re not famous and people only watch your stupid tik toks to see what dumb thing you’ve done next. You could have killed someone and you got Sally fired”

Tim couldn’t believe it. Hēmi is 12 but had just articulated exactly what he had been thinking but was unable to say. He smiled, “Thanks, Hēmi, but I think Zavian has enough on his mind right now. Let’s all get our library books out and read silently for the next 20 minutes.” Zavian sat quietly with his book closed. He didn’t expect his classmates to not like what he’d done.

As the class packed up for the end of the day, Zavian was last to leave. He came up to Tim’s desk and said, “Mr Jones, the reason I got to come back here is because you are the only adult I’ve got other than Ms Gaylord. I live with my brother. He’s 18 but he’s hardly home. I know I can be annoying but it’s just because I want everyone to like me.”

Tim fell back down to Earth. All afternoon he had been in a silent rage at Zavian. Now he felt sorry for him. “It’s OK, Zavian. Just try and be a bit better every day. Have a nice afternoon.”

As Zavian went through the doorway he threw his hands above his head and yelled, “King Zee Dog is BACK! Who wants my autograph?”

Tim sighed. What a day. He couldn’t help but wonder what else could happen? He opened his emails and smiled. The email at the top said, “New Student - Tim Jones”. Tim could only hope to get a Hēmi, not a Zavian.

4. Staff Cups and Tradeys

Tim was early to the morning staff meeting so after opening every cupboard in the kitchen, he found the cups, made a coffee and found himself a seat. The Wildbush Area School Deputy Principal, Mr Daniels was scurrying about preparing his presentation and struggling with the Apple TV, talking to himself.

“Why won’t this bloody thing connect? I can’t find the staffroom TV on this stupid computer. If I wanted Room 13 I’d be in Room 13. Why is Room 13 my only option? The TV is right there!”

While Mr Daniels continued to fail, other teachers slowly made their way in for the hui. He was joined by a lady who looked like she was dragged backwards through a bush.

“Good morning,” said Tim as he took a sip of coffee.

 “Is it? Is it a good morning?” she asked. “You obviously don’t have kids.”

“No I don’t,” he replied and he reached down for his laptop. “How many do you have?”

The lady was sitting with her eyes closed and Tim read her name on her laptop as Tina.

“Tina?”

She jerked awake, “Huh? Oh Jesus. Did I fall asleep? I’ve got three kids and the youngest is teething. He spent all night in my bed with me and my husband, elbowing me in the face. Apparently kicking my husband in the balls. Hopefully he got him good because there is no bloody way we are having any more kids.” She pulled her laptop out and opened the “What’s On at Wildbush”. 

Mr Daniels was now pushing the buttons on his laptop so hard that people around him were starting to laugh, “I’m in the flippin’ staffroom! Honestly, what is the point in technology if it doesn’t even work! Where’s that techy guy?” Mr Daniels looked around the room. “Typical. Nowhere to be found when you need him.” He went back to slapping his laptop before finally giving up. 

Tim opened his laptop to find it as dead as a doornail. He searched for his cord but remembered it was on the bench at home. He went to ask Tina for her cord but she looked like she had drifted off again so he thought better of it.

By now almost everyone was in the room when he was approached by a tall blonde lady, “Tim is it?” 

“Yeah, good morning! Sorry I didn’t catch your name?” replied Tim.

The lady didn’t say anything, she took Tim’s coffee cup and poured the contents into a new cup. She handed him the new cup and said, “This is MY cup. I’d appreciate it if you found yourself a staff mug next time before taking mine. Staff cups are blue.” The tall woman walked away and Tim didn’t know where to look. The tall woman sat next to another lady and they began talking and pointing in Tim’s direction. You’d think he’d gone to her house and kicked her dog.

Tina, who had been on staff for years whispered to Tim, “I hate that woman. Everyone does.”

“OK everyone, good morning.” It was Mr Daniels. “I trust you all had a successful first day yesterday.” There was a murmur of agreement around the room. “Well, let’s continue that ka pai mahi, team. In true Wildbush fashion, the Apple TV isn’t working and Adam isn’t here so you’re all going to have to look at my laptop for the slide show I have created about inclusion at Wildbush.” He flipped his computer around and everyone leaned forwards. Some people put their glasses on and others complained to their neighbour that they couldn’t see.

“Inclusion at Wildbush sits at the heart of everything we do here. The following slides will outline the critical information for what I call, ‘our quirky turkeys’. He laughed to himself and pressed a button. The screen went blank. He tapped the button a few more times. “Oh for goodness sake!” He shook the laptop and looked like he might throw the laptop out the window. “Bear with me, people. Talk amongst yourselves while I get this sorted. Where the hell is Adam?”

Tina nudged Tim, “How’s your coffee? That’s Miss Glob. I heard her husband left her ten years ago. Can’t imagine why.”

Tim didn’t know quite what to say, “To be honest, I didn’t even know that we had staff cups. I thought it was first in first served. I’m sure she’s OK when you get to know her.”

“Nope. Evvvvveryone hates her.”

Mr Daniels stood up and put his hand up, “Come on people, if you can’t quiet down when you see this, how do you expect your kids to? Right, the computer is as useful as ejection seats on a helicopter so we will need to meet again at lunchtime, please. Before you go, Tim, your room is out of action today, you’ll need to find an unused room somewhere. They are fixing the leaky pipe in the roof.”

Tim nodded and packed up to go to class. He stood up and decided to talk to Miss Glob. “Hi, Miss Glob? I just wanted to apologise for using your cup. I didn’t know it was yours.”

Miss Glob looked at Tim like he had just presented her with a cockroach. “Well be more careful next time,” and again, she walked away.

Tim’s face flushed and Mr Daniels rushed past him murmuring something about bringing out the OHP for the lunchtime meeting.

When Tim got to his room, he was meant to collect his class and move them to their new room for the day. He found the whole class outside the room laughing and screams coming from inside. He ran in to find Zavian beside a ladder that looked like it had been pushed over and a set of flailing legs coming from the ceiling.

“What happened?!” Tim demanded of Zavian over the screams for help from the roof.

“I dunno? I got here and he was doing this.”

“Oh sure thing, Zavian. Get outside!” Tim picked up the ladder and called out to the tradey who, judging by the legs, was doing well to hold himself up in the ceiling space. “It’s OK mate, I’m putting the ladder up now. There you go!” Tim was shouting upwards as the man found his footing on the ladder and eased himself down. 

“Who the hell pushed over my ladder!?” he was yelling on the way down.

“I’m not sure, but if it was one of these kids, we will get to the bottom of it.”

There was a vein throbbing in the man's forehead which looked as though it could pop at any moment which Tim couldn’t take his eyes off. He began packing up his tool and as he picked up the ladder, the roof started leaking. 

“You’re not going are you? The roof is leaking!” Tim spoke quickly and moved between the door and the tradey.

“If you think I’m going to do any more work here today, you must have fallen out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down. Fix the pipe yourself.” He pushed past Tim and moved through the sea of students gathered at the door. 

At this point, the principal, Ms. Gaylord had made her way to the front of the queue to get in.

“Tim! What happened here?”

“Well, I’m not sure but I think Zavian pushed the ladder over while the plumber was in the ceiling. Now the roof is leaking and the bloke’s gone.” Tim ran his fingers through his long curly hair. 

“Well, I’m not sure why you weren’t in here before the kids but first things first, we need to stop that leak. Here, give me a boost.”

“A boost? Ms. Gaylord I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he replied.

“It’ll be fine Tim. My uncle was a plumber,” and with that she started to remove her high heels and came closer to Tim. “Hands together,” she put her foot in Tim’s hands and pushed herself up, Tim catching up late. “Higher Tim,” she said as she grabbed the ceiling. 

Tim lifted as much as he could. Ms. Gaylord’s waist was in Tim’s face so he looked sideways to see every student in the school looking, pointing and laughing through the window. 

He saw Zavian. “Sir’s got a stiffy!”

“Higher, Tim!” came a command from the roof as water trickled down onto his head and her sequined dress pressed against his face.

Tim adjusted his legs in case his pants were riding up funny. “I do not Zavian.”

“Higher, Tim!” she called again. Tim pushed with all his might and the sequins grated against his face. By now Ms. Gaylord was getting heavy. 

“He does! He’s got a stiffy!” Tim shut his eyes. He could deal with Zavian later. 

“Got it!” Called Ms. Gaylord. “Bring me down, Tim.”

He lowered her to the ground and some of the kids at the door were laughing. Tim’s face was again red and both his and Ms. Gaylords clothes were both soaked.

“Thanks Tim,” she said as she straightened her dress.

“No problem. But what are we going to do about Zavian. He can’t say that, can he?”

“Say what, Tim?”

“Well, he said…” he thought about this for a second, how could he put this? “He said I had a stiffy. In front of the other kids! And he pushed over the ladder.” 

Ms. Gaylord thought for a moment. “He said you had a… a stiffy?” Tim was mortified. Why was this conversation even happening?

“Yes. I didn’t though. I didn’t have one,” he hated how awkward he was in moments like this.

“Well, that’s probably for the best, Tim. I’ll have a talk to Zavian about all this. In the meantime, you can take your class on a tour of the school and find a free room.”

Tim’s face had reached maximum levels of red and his hands had started to shake, “Ok, thank you, Ms. Gaylord.”

The principal left the room, taking Zavian with her and Tim walked out to the class, “Hēmi, can you lead us around the school? We need to find a spare room. And I need a change of clothes.”

The class left and Tim was really starting to doubt whether he had made the right choice working here. Then Hēmi handed him some sports clothes and said, “Here sir. I think these might fit you.” 

Tim smiled. Lucky Hēmi was a big lad. “Thanks, Hēmi. You’re the man.”

3: Tim’s on a Roll

Chapter THREE

Tim’s eyes had to adjust to the scene ahead of him. His first ever class was situated in the oldest room in the school. The room affectionately known as ‘The Dunger’. 

As his eyes began to comprehend what he was seeing his jaw dropped a little. None of the desks or chairs matched, one of the large metal radiator heaters swung half off the wall, there was one long thin window in the room which was so high up you couldn’t see anything. The lights flickered on and off, the material on the wall could loosely be called blue except the light brown water marks made up more of the wall than the blue and at the back of the room next to the coat and bag hooks, you won’t believe it. There is a toilet. A semi-functional toilet with a door that doesn’t lock. The room had a serious stink to it which reminded Tim of his last trip to Rotorua. 

He took a couple of steps into the room. He had expected the kids to have started working, but they were all in different areas of the classroom. There was a teacher at the front of the room who was in there to watch the class while Tim finished his Pohiri protocols of eating and having a kai. The teacher couldn’t have looked more unprofessional if he tried. His feet on the teachers desk, phone out scrolling Tik Tok and a cigarette burning away between his fingers. Smoke drifted through the room and Tim coughed. 

“Good morning everyone!” Tim bravely said.

The teacher looked up, “About time you got here,” his accent almost as thick as the smoke filling the room.

“Um, are you allowed to do that in here?” 

“What, this?” the teacher looked at his smoke, “This is the only room in the school where the smoke alarms don’t work. You’re lucky you teach in here. I love teaching in the Dunger. I can’t smoke in my room. Where I come from in Colombia, all teachers smoke. They tried to tell me to stop, but after what I have seen in my home country, nothing here scares me.”

“Yeah, right. Nice to meet you. Sorry, what is your name?” Tim coughed again.

“My name is Pablo,” he inhaled more smoke and blew it at Tim, “Now, I have to go, I have a meeting with the principal.” He put the smoke out on the window of the room and left. Tim turned to the class. His mind was racing. The kids looked up at him from around the room and it was about now that he realised that one student was sitting on another’s head.

“Excuse me, could you please hop up from his head?” he said a little too politely. The boy shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was being asked to do. He stood up and lumbered over to a seat and sunk into it with a huff. 

“Everyone come and find a seat. We’ll do the roll and then I’ve got a great ice breaker.” 

All of the students found a seat except three kids who had to sit on the ground as there weren’t enough seats. “It’s OK, you guys, we will get that sorted. Just get as comfy as you can. My name is Mr Jones. This is a big day for me because you are my first ever class of my own.” The student who was sitting on someone’s head grinned and looked around the room.

Tim continued, “Now when I say your name, I want you to say, ‘Here’, or ‘kia ora’, or ‘yes’, PLUS something you like that starts with the same first letter as your name. OK? So my name is Tim and I like Tomatoes. OK let’s get started. Amanda Matthews”

Before Amanda could say anything, the door opened and the principal walked in and Tim realised that he had forgotten her name. His face reddened as he looked at the state of the room and worse, she started sniffing and looking around the room from the door. She could smell the cigarette.

“Good morning Tim, good morning children,” she looked at the students and they immediately sat up. All except for one.

“Morena, Whaea,” said Tim who felt like he’d cracked a solid work around for when you forget people’s names.

She smiled, “Tim, no one calls me that. I prefer the kids call me Ms. Gaylord.”

Tim quickly realised he had never actually heard her name before because there is no way in a million years he would forget that.

“I see you find something funny, Zavian. It’s lovely to see you haven’t lost your sense of humour. Welcome back to school, students. I trust you are looking after Mr Jones here. He has never taught a class by himself before. The first class of any teacher is where they learn the most. So, I thought I’d sit in and make sure you all listen and support him.” She smiled and sat at the teacher’s desk at the front of the room setting up a clipboard and pen. 

Tim forced a smile and looked from the kids to Ms. Gaylord. He cleared his throat. “OK, you all remember what to do? Remember, I’m Tim and I like Tomatoes.”

Ms. Gaylord wrote something on her clipboard.

“Do we have Amanda Matthews?”

“Yes Mr Jones, I’m Amanda and I like…”

A voice came from the back of the room, “Arse holes” followed by giggles from the class. Amanda shrunk in her chair and Ms. Gaylord scribbled something.

“That’s not very kind, Zavian.” Tim said. This wasn’t the plan. “Have another go, Amanda.”

“Um… No, thank you Mr Jones. I’m OK. Just tick me off.”

Tim could give a sunburnt beetroot a run for its money as he looked at Zavian, “OK, moving on Ashley Bonner.”

Ashley sat up, “Yes Mr Jones, I’m Ashley and I like… Ummm… apples.”

Tim smiled, “Yes! Great work Ashley. Next, do we have Andrew Klicker?”

A boy sat up but before he could say anything the phone rang. 

“I’ll get it!” said Amanda and she ran to the phone, “Hello this is Amanda from the Dunger. Yes. Yes. OK. No he hasn’t yet. Yes. OK. Bye,” and she hung up. “The office wants to know why you haven’t done the roll yet.”

Tim watched the principal's pen go to work and he asked, “You didn’t think to give me the phone and let me explain?” his stomach began to turn. 

“Well, no sorry Mr Jones. I just, I didn’t know what to say and I wanted to impress you on the first day and now…” her eyes welled. “Now everyone is looking at me.”

Tim quickly moved towards her, “It’s OK Amanda, you go sit down.” He took a deep breath, “Back to the roll, Andrew?”

“Yip! I’m Andrew and I like… um… oranges.” There was a wave of giggles from around the room.

Zavian spoke, “You’re sposed to say something that starts with the first letter of your first name you dumb f…”

“Zavian! That’s enough. Although you are correct, I don’t want you to finish that sentence.”

He pressed on, “Bradley. Are you here?” he smiled at Bradley.

Bradley began to speak and there was a knock on the door. Tim couldn’t believe it. He felt like he was stuck in quicksand. A Year 13 came in. Tim could tell he was a Year 13 because he wasn’t wearing uniform.

“All of yous who want to do Kapa haka, meet at the hall at morning tea for a shared kai and to meet the new tutor.”

Tim thanked the student, and saw Ms. Gaylord check her watch.

“Bradley…”

“Yes Mr Jones, I’m Bradley and I like bananas.”

“He LOVES bananas. Big ones, eh Bradley!” It was Zavian again. Tim felt like throwing something at Zavian but then he saw Ms. Gaylord was smiling at Zavian’s joke. Then she stood up and without saying anything, she left. Tim looked at his attendance register, he counted the four names he had ticked off after 15 minutes of trying. Now he just needed to get the job done. 

“All right team, we are going to skip the ice breaker, now just zoom through it as fast as you can.”

Denise Bolder…”

‘Bing bong’  went the speaker. 

Tim threw his hands up, “Oh for goodness sake, what now!?” 

It was the deputy principal, “All students, welcome back! Please remember that today is Mr Jones’ first day and you are to help him to get through this. Just to say it again, it’s Mr Jones’ first day in charge of a class and you all need to help him please. Also, Kapa haka, remember you have a shared kai. Oh yes, and if the person who drives a white Mazda 3, you are parked in front of the skip and the driver is here. You need to move it immediately. Thank you.”

Tim couldn’t believe it. The deputy principal had just announced TO THE SCHOOL that it's his first day. He’d had enough of today already but he needed to get this damn roll finished.

“Denise?”

“Here.”

“Hēmi?”

“Here, sir. Kia kaha bro! You got this.”

“Thanks, Hēmi. Julia?”

“Here”

“Liam Frank?”

“I’m Liam and I like… ummm…”

“It’s OK, Liam. You don’t have to do that anymore.”

Liam looked pleased, “Aw. That’s good. I couldn’t think of a fruit anyway.” 

Tim looked at him like he was an alien, “You don’t need to say a fruit, Liam.” He took a deep breath, “It’s ok. Everyone, that game is finished. It’s nearly morning tea! Lola?”

“Here, Mr Jones”

‘Logan?”

“I’m Logan and I like lions”

“That’s not a fruit,” shouts Oscar. Tim shook his head swearing internally.

“Michelle Michaels?”

Nothing. 

“Michelle?” Everyone stared at the girl whose head was face down on the desk. She was sitting next to Zavian.

“Dats you,” he threw a pen at her.

“Zavian!”

Michelle sat up, “Um, yep. I’m here,” and she put her head back down. 

As she put her head down the bell rang for morning tea. Tim held up his hands as they all stood up to go, “Sit down everyone! We can’t go until we finish the roll!”

He sped through the rest of the roll and dismissed them for morning tea. His first day had been an absolute disaster. He couldn’t even do the roll! He sank into his chair and banged his forehead a couple of times against his desk. His head was hitting a piece of paper. He picked it up and smiled. Then he laughed. It was a paper copy of the roll finished by Pablo. Tim walked out the Dunger for morning tea smiling. 

He looked at the burn mark on the window, “Jeez. What have I gotten myself into?”

2. Tim’s Pohiri

“You can do this, Timbo. You trained for three years for this day. Don’t take any lip, have fun, remember that it’ll all be over by three and you’re bigger than them…” Tim stared at the mirror. His first day at Wild Bush Area School started in 90 minutes and he couldn’t help but let the butterflies in his stomach fly across his face. He was absolutely ready. He checked his bag. Lunch, drink bottle, laptop, pohiri speech. Sorted. He got in his car, checked himself again in the mirror and took off on the 45-minute drive to the middle of nowhere, Wild Bush Area School. 

Upon arriving at school, he found he was early because somehow traffic had been good to him. The last time he took this trip there was a herd of sheep being moved along the road by a bloke on a motorbike and three dogs. His dad always said, ‘if you’re not early, you’re late.” so he always left to be somewhere with 30 minutes spare. On this occasion, he was met in the car park by Manaia, the bilingual teacher who was moving a box that was so full of kapa haka uniforms that one was dragging on the ground. Tim bent down, picked it up and placed it on top of the box.

“Morena Whaea!” he said with all the confidence of someone serving the first-made pancake. Although he studied Te Reo Maori in high school, he still felt like an imposter when talking to fluent speakers. “Can I help you with that?”

“Morena, Tom,” replied Manaia. “Kāore. I’d love your help but you are not allowed on the school grounds yet. You haven’t been formally welcomed onto school property. That would not be the correct protocol. I’m sure you understand. You get to wait by the big tree with the new whānau.”

“But, I have heaps to prepare before class,” he protested. “Can’t I just sneak on and come back to the tree?”

“The big tree is by the gate. See you soon. Oh, and can you please tell the new people how a pōhiri works? Thanks. They should have received a notice, but they never read them.”

Tim looked at the big tree. He thought of all the photocopying that he needed to do for his first class and shook his head. He hadn’t set his class up because he hadn’t been given a key yet and the butterflies which were once fluttering kindly in his stomach had now turned to David Tua sparring with Joseph parker. 

He sat by the tree looking through his class list. A few kids had little symbols by them and a comment. 

Amanda Matthews. Nice girl. Hard worker

Ashley Bonner. Prefers Ash. Highly anxious around new people, especially men.

Andrew Klicker. Loud. Low-level writer, reader, mathematician and scientist. Likes sports.

Bradley Tragic. Suits his name.

Denise Bolder. I think she was named by her uncle, highly academic, parents are hard work. 

Hēmi Jackson. Intelligent, cheeky, athletic. Great kid to build a class around. Leadership potential.

The list continued and Tim couldn’t help but wonder who wrote about these kids. He’d read through this list a few times now and his eyes always got stuck on the last name on the list;

Zavian Bartlet. Hard work. Bully. Steals. Keep away from Ashley, Hēmi, in fact, all of the boys will be led astray by him so just sit him by your desk. He’s the reason I quit. Good luck with him!

As he read the list through again and mentally prepared his brilliant icebreaker activity from TKI, the one where the kids say their first name and then something they like with the same first letter of their name, he was joined by a father and son. The dad seemed to be in a rush to get back to work while the boy shuffled his feet and kicked a stone back and forth. Tim guessed from his size he was about Year 5. 

“I don’t know why we need this welcoming crap. In my day we were just dropped off and told good luck”, said the dad.

The boy said nothing. Tim felt like he should say something but didn’t know what.

“I mean, you’re not even Māori. Do this for the Māori kids not the rest of us”, he continued while the boy went red.

“Excuse me, sir,” Tim spoke up, “these days most schools welcome new people onto the property with a pōhiri. It teaches kids about the importance of Māori culture to Aotearoa. It honours the treaty and allows Tangata Whenua and manuhiri to get to know one another.”

The dad shook his head. “Yeah. Righto, mate,” he looked at his watch and turned to his son, “Look I have to go. I’m late. Good luck today, son.” He ran to his car and sped off. 

The awkward silence resembled the aftermath of a drunk uncle who just awkwardly commented on your cousin's new girlfriend. 

“Sorry about my dad,” said the boy, still red.

“That’s OK, mate. My mum always said ‘change takes a generation.’ so just try to be open to the Māori culture and you’ll be sweet as. I’m Mr Jones. What’s your name?”

“My name is Bradley. Actually, I think I’m in your class.” 

Tim smiled, “You must be Mr Tragic,” he already knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“Yeah, I don’t really like my last name. I used to go here, then I moved away and now I’m back. I don’t really know if I have to do the pōhiri but it wound my dad up so I thought I’d tell him we had to do it,” he smiled to himself.

By this time a small group of new students and their families had turned up and Tim was beginning to feel nervous. His big speech was coming up and knew he had to read off cue cards. But where were they?

Then it started, “Haaaaaaaaeeeeerrrre Maaaaaaiiiii,” he checked his pockets, front and back. 

“Haaaaaeeeerrreee Maaaaiiiii,” he frantically searched his bag.

 Haaaaaaaeeeerrreeee Maaaaiiiiiiii…” sweating, he checked the final pocket of his bag and there they were. Fewf. 

Someone returned the call for Tim and the Manuhiri. The women walked on first followed by the men. When Tim gets nervous he makes jokes. He turned to the man next to him and said, “I’ve never been welcomed to a wild bush area like this before…” The man stared blankly at him and then looked back toward the front while Tim went red.

As the ceremony continued inside the gymnasium, Tim’s mouth grew drier and drier. Worst of all the man he told his lame joke to sat next to him and had been spoken about as the new Board Chairman. Tim sat at the front, his knee jiggling nervously. Then he got the nod to speak.

He stood and snuck a glimpse of the faces. The gym had enough space for three basketball courts and had climbing ropes dangling at each end. The Tangata Whenua and Manuhiri faced each other on the pae pae up the front. He began,

“Tuhia ki te rangi

Tuhia ki te whenua

Tuhia ki te nga kau

Ko te mea nui

Ko te aroha

Tihei Mauri Ora”

Manaia smiled and nodded. Her smile did nothing to ease his nerves. The rest of his speech went well and when he sat down, the new Board Chair gave him a pat on the back and said, “I couldn’t have done that. Well done.”

At the end of the pōhiri, he met the rest of the staff as they had a quick drink and a bikkie to break the tapu and make everything noa. Manaia approached and Tim was ready for the compliments to fly.

“Tim, don’t you know you’re meant to wear long black pants to a pōhiri?”

Tim stared down at his CCC shorts and brown sandals and deflated like his uncle’s old air mattress. “I’m so sorry, I forgot. I was going to start the class with fitness to get some oxygen in their systems and I didn’t even think about it.”

Manaia smiled, “That’s OK, Tim. Your speech was very good! Maybe even better than the principals but don’t tell her I said that.” 

Tim smiled and thanked her and went to leave but before he did, she spoke again, “Oh and Tim. I like what you said to Mr Tragic. ‘Change takes a generation’. I’ve always thought his dad was a bit of a dick.”

A laugh jumped out of Tim’s mouth but he quickly caught himself, “Thanks, Manaia.”

The start of Tim’s day had gone well. A 7/10. The bell rang and he was approached by a young bloke who was smiling from ear to ear. “Mr Jones! My name is Hēmi and I’m in your class. That speech was too much. Bro, how high can you kick rugby balls? Can we play bullrush instead of doing maths? Do you got a girlfriend? Naaa you don’t have to tell me. Let’s go, I’ll show you to class.”

Tim instantly liked this kid. He followed and got to know him a little before getting to the door of his class. Before he entered, he thought to himself, ‘this is it…’  he took a breath and entered the room. What greeted him, will haunt him forever…

1. The Interview

The Interview

Tim dialled his mother’s number. “I’ve done it. I’ve got an interview! It’s an area school way out in the wops called Wild Bush Area School. It looks awesome!” After graduating from uni, Tim Jones, 26, was on the hunt for a beginning teacher’s job. After reading the email on his phone you couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, even if you scrubbed him with Jiff.

“That’s great Timmy, but an interview is one thing, getting the job is another.”

Tim agreed with this and set to organising his thoughts for the interview the very next day. He knew the curriculum well enough, he’d had some tricky behavioural kids in his final practicum and, despite his pale pakeha complexion, he learnt Te Reo Maori throughout high school and had a solid grounding. He also wrote he could play the guitar on his CV, but to be fair, it wasn’t entirely true. He could play a few chords but he was hoping it would never come up. Who tells the truth on a CV?

Tim awoke the next day, excited to get to his interview. He made sure his shirt was ironed, his pants were clean after a big weekend with the boys at the races and his shoes matched his belt perfectly. He arrived at his potential new school 20 minutes early. He had been in job interviews before so he thought he had it sorted. The boss asks questions, you act confident, you answer well and get the job. What Tim hadn’t counted on is that primary schools are different. They are building a family, a whānau. They want to make sure you fit in with the whole staff. So he immediately began sweating when he realised his interview panel consisted of 12 members of staff, a board member and a member of the PTA who he would later find out was a single mum of a kid in his class. 

The door opened, “Come in, Tim. Please sit down.” It was the principal. She was tall with dark hair. Her suit was immaculate and her smile made Tim feel like maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. He nodded hello and completed a large wave which he regretted doing the moment he began. He awkwardly perched himself on a stool that was about half a metre above everyone else in the room. The room was built for a group of 5 people to sit comfortably, so everyone was squished and the air was already pretty ripe.

“So, Tim,” began a gentleman wearing a very loud floral shirt and a green tie, “Welcome to Wild Bush Area School. My name is Mr Daniels and I am the D.P. here. As you can see we like to involve a few people in the interview process, but don’t let that scare you. Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.” Everyone nodded and smiled. Some leaned over others to get a good view.

Tim’s shoulders loosened but the dry feeling in his mouth was unbearable. 

“Thank you, Mr Daniels, it’s a pleasure to be here.” He felt so awkward sitting up so high. 

The principal spoke again, “Let’s begin with a simple question. Tell us about yourself. How would you, the real YOU, make a difference in our little school?”

All eyes were fixed on Tim. Notepads shuffled. He reached for the water jug on the short table in front of him, leaned down and poured himself a drink. He sat back up and spilled a small amount of water on his grey pants. ‘damn.’ he thought, but he soldiered on. Now half of the eyes were staring at his crotch which made him squirm even more. 

He coughed a little and began, “Well, firstly, thanks for giving me the chance to have this interview with you all. There sure are a lot of you!” he awkwardly giggled as if to lighten the mood of the room.

“Yes, that’s so we all get to know you. Like a whānau,” stated Mr Daniels again. 

“Yeah, I love it. Thank you all for making the time. Now, how would I fit in? I’m 26, love sports, I try my best to build positive relationships with kids by getting to know them, I speak some Te Reo and I’m a really hard worker.”

“Kia ora.” said a pakeha lady from the back of the group as she nodded.

“Ah, kia ora!” replied Tim nodding back. 

“My name is Debbie. I’m a classroom teacher here in year 3/4. People say I don’t mess around so I’ll ask my question first.” she smiled at her own joke. “It says here you are musical. I’ve brought a guitar with me. Would you please sing us a little song? I do love a good sing-song. How about Bad Hair Day? An assembly classic!” She looked like she might get up and dance as she began passing the guitar over to her colleagues. 

Tim couldn’t believe this. Sing a song in an interview? This would never have happened working at Stirling Sports. 

“Gosh, sorry, Debbie. I would but I’ve strained my hand at touch rugby so I’ll have to take a rain check on that one.”

Debbie shook her head and folded her arms, “No worries.” came a passive-aggressive high-pitched voice as she waved the guitar back again. 

The principal spoke, “Tim, we are a very unique school at Wild Bush. Our kids are… how should I say this. Unique. Have you had experience with difficult children? How would you handle behaviourally challenged 12-year-old boys?”

Tim knew how to answer this. He sat up tall. “I’d build relationships with them. Get to know them and see what makes them tick. I’d talk to their previous teachers, involve their parents in behavioural matters and make a plan with them.” He smiled broadly because that’s the answer he's practised with his friend who had been teaching for three years in Auckland. 

“So you wouldn’t talk to a team leader or DP if they were causing grief?” asked Mr Daniels. 

“Well, yeah,” replied Tim quickly. “I’d follow school protocol first obviously.”

“Obviously,” remarked Mr Daniels with his eyebrows raised and a head shake.

As the interview progressed Tim couldn’t help but think he didn’t want to work here. The questions got weirder and weirder. One short little man even asked if he had ever eaten chalk and would the whiteboard markers be safe in his classroom. What does that even mean? Another talked about how many marshmallows he could fit in his mouth and tried to get him to prove it. The final question was very much to the point. 

“Do you want to work here?” asked the principal.

Tim thought for a moment. “Are you offering me the job?” his mind was racing as he’d previously applied for 42 jobs and gotten nothing back from the schools. It was this or back to selling sports equipment.

“If you’re interested, we would love to have you. Wouldn’t we?” she looked to the others who all nodded in unison except Mr Daniels who after a few stares reluctantly added, “Oh I guess so.”

“I think…” he began. “I think I do want to work here. Yes. ”

And that is how Tim Jones got the job as the newest BT at Wild Bush Area School. The beginning to the worst year a Beginning Teacher ever had…

“Before you go, Tim.” it was Manaia the bilingual teacher. “ Ko koe te kaikorero mō te manuhiri. You will be speaking on behalf of the new families and teachers at the Pōhiri on Monday. I’m sure you have a tauparapara and mihi you could say, right? I was so excited to see another member of staff with some reo behind them!”

Tim nodded, “A taupatapata? Yep. I’ve got a good one." He had no idea what he was being asked to do but he couldn’t back out now. “See you on Monday.” Tim left sweating bullets and googling pōhiri speeches. His first text though was to his mum. “I got the job!”.