Even when the cops come to school, it doesn’t feel real.
Houses have burned.
A fireman and two kids are in the hospital, they say.
Mrs Glenn looks down from the stage and gives us her best ‘this behaviour will not be tolerated’ face. I can feel Trent next to me but I’m careful not to look at him. All around me kids are sweating and fidgeting; the heat makes everyone look guilty. When they finish telling us about the seriousness of what happened last week in the Bushland, they say it’s not just the culprit who’ll be punished, but anyone who knows anything. They talk about guilt by association and two rows in front, I see Doug’s head bow.
I should be worried, but I’m not.
The cops say they’ll be waiting in Mrs Glenn’s office until lunchtime, if anyone wants to come forward. Someone’s put two extra seats on the stage with the deputy principal, Mr Patterson. The cops sit next to him and all three of them stare out into the assembly while notices are read, the choir sings a couple of songs, and the school captains talk about some raffle they’re running.
Dad told me once that some cops know how to tell if someone’s lying. They talk to them for a while about the weather, their clothes, what they’ve been doing, then they’ll ask about the crime. It’s a trick, because when people relax, they forget to keep eye contact. They forget to keep their hands on the table in front of them, and they forget they’re trying to look innocent. He also told me that the cops will come after the Black kids first.
I don’t pay any attention to the notices as they’re read out. I don’t try to look innocent, but they don’t see my guilt either. I’m not sure if my face sticks out more than any of the other kids here at this big school with so many faces from so many different places. In Tassie, maybe I would’ve been interviewed before they bothered having an assembly like this. But I know that, for now at least, my record is sealed and all they see is just another uniformed teenager in the crowd…
Leave a Reply