School had broken up for the year.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
or signup to continue reading
For weeks the houses and shops had been decorated in bright lights and tinsel and incongruous life-sized snowmen.
This week Jimmy had finally opened his piggy bank and counted out the money it contained. It wasn't nearly as much as he hoped.
This year had been - different.
His mother had spent a lot of time in the hospital this year: more so than previous years. They would give her more pills and more treatment and she would come home and everything would be good for a while.
Then she would stop taking the pills and she would be back in the hospital.
The last time the police came as well as the ambulance.
His dad spent the night in the emergency room with a broken nose and a serious concussion. They had sent his mother back to the locked ward.
That was the last time he saw her. He didn't want to see her.
He knew some people said bad things about his dad - some that he must be an absolutely horrible man if his wife came at him with a frying pan - others that he must be an absolute Nancy if he let a woman beat him up. Neither was true.
His dad had only returned to work two weeks ago and there weren't going to be many presents under the tree.
This year it was just the two of them. That was why he was hoping for the contents of his piggy bank to be greater.
The other kids had spent the last day of term excitedly discussing holidays to the Gold Coast, or whether they might get a new fishing rod, or skates, or even a new bike.
Jimmy wasn't going anywhere, and there would not be a new set of wheels under the tree. The last year had been hard. That's how it was.
Jimmy counted the money.
It wasn't enough to buy something special. He stuffed the money in his pocket and walked to the shops.
He compared prices on the racks and counters. That was a nice shirt - oops, too expensive.
He walked down the aisles until finally he found what he wanted. It was perfect. He counted out the money and handed it to the cashier. There was not much change, but it was his.
He walked home and put the box under his bed. He would sleep well tonight.
Jimmy woke the next morning to an empty house.
His father had already left early for work. He went to the kitchen cupboard to fix himself cereal for breakfast.
He was startled by the sound of the phone on the wall behind him and knocked a container off the shelf. The phone continued ringing so he picked up the handset.
"Hello this is Jimmy."
It was Max.
"Hey Jimmy, it's going to be a scorcher. Me and Pete and Stevie are heading to the pool for the day, it's going to be cool. Wanna come?"
Jimmy's thoughts turned to the empty piggy bank and his heart sank.
"Well, I'd like to but," he began to apologise then stopped as he spotted the collection of crumpled notes that had spilled out of the container with the pasta. He mentally counted the money.
"But what Jimmy?"
"But I have to eat my breakfast and get into my togs. I'll see you out the front in half an hour."
"Great!"
Jimmy removed one note from the pile before shoving the rest into the container with the spilled pasta.
Surely one wouldn't be missed.
He knew some people said bad things about his dad - some that he must be an absolutely horrible man if his wife came at him with a frying pan - others that he must be an absolute Nancy if he let a woman beat him up. Neither was true.
He shovelled his cereal in his mouth and grabbed his things for the pool, putting the note in the Velcro pocket of his board shorts. It was a long time since he had been invited out.
The pool was very cool. For once he was just one of the boys, swimming and splashing about, laughing and having fun.
After a few hours, they were wrinkled and sunburnt and decided to head for home.
"Hey," said Stevie. "Let's get an ice cream at the milk bar."
"Good idea," said Pete. "Hey, are you getting a new bike this year?"
"No, I asked for a surfboard, but I don't know if I'll get it. How about you Max?"
"Oh I'm getting a skateboard."
"Cool!" said Max. "How about you Jimmy?"
"I don't know," Jimmy mumbled. "It's a surprise."
"Oh OK. We're here. I'm getting a Cornetto."
"Yeah right", said Stevie "A Gaytime is more your style."
They broke into laughter.
"How about you Jimmy?"
Jimmy counted out his loose change.
"I'm getting a Bubble O'Bill."
"Oh, well that cool," he replied sarcastically. "I ate them when I was five." More laughter.
They walked down the street eating their ice creams.
Jimmy's face burned red with embarrassment.
Were these the friends he stole for? So he could fit in? So he could look cool?
His hand trembled, and he dropped his ice cream on the road. Stevie stopped.
"Jesus, are you crying? It's just an ice cream. Shit!"
More laughing.
"He's as crazy as his mum," Stevie muttered.
Jimmy watched as his Bubble O'Bill melted into the bitumen.
It cried big yellow tears and as its face started to run down the gutter it appeared to stick its tongue out at him in disgust.
He walked home in silence and took the box from under the bed.
He made a small handwritten card and found a piece of paper to wrap the present.
He wiped his eyes again as he read the inscription on the beer mug.
"World's best dad."
