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Nathan Nuttboard - Family Matters

University of Queensland Press

Trouble brewing

You can always tell when something is about to go wrong in our house. There're a few signals that are dead giveaways. First, Mum and Dad go really quiet and start having long whispered conversations in the kitchen.

Second, my dad goes out to his shed and starts building things. It doesn't matter what: spice racks, a pergola for the back yard, anything. He says working with his hands helps him to focus his thoughts, which I find strange, because if the results of his projects are anything to go by, his thoughts must be pretty darn blurry. The spice rack fell off the wall as soon as Mum put a bottle of dried oregano in it, and a man from the council came around and told him to tear down the pergola because it 'posed a serious risk to anyone within about three hundred metres of it'.

The final sign that something is up is that Narelle takes advantage of the fact that Mum is distracted and will try to get away with things Mum would normally shut down in five seconds flat. When Mum finally notices what she's up to there's always a huge blowout and that's when we normally discover what's really been going on.

If you're clever, you learn to read the signs and shoot through at the first available opportunity. I get over to The Shack and hang out with Gnarly, if I can.

So when I came home from school and found Dad out in the shed hammering wood into something that looked suspiciously like a really wobbly outdoor table, I was concerned. Then when Narelle arrived home a few minutes later I took one look at her and bolted for the phone.

'Hey Gnarls, it's me.'

'Nath! What's up?'

'Listen, I can't talk now. Is it okay if I stay the night?'

'Dude, it's a school night. You know your mum won't let you.'

'Trust me, Gnarls, this is an emergency.'

'How come? What's happened?' 'Nothing yet, but something will soon, it's only a matter of time.'

'Huh?'

'You know the warning signs ...'

'Yeah.'

'Well, I just got home and Dad's building outdoor furniture.'

'That's not good, dude.'

'It gets worse.'

'How?'

I told him about Narelle. There was a long silence.

'Nath, we've gotta get you out of there right now!'

'No joke. Can Jim come and pick me up?'

'He's not home yet, not for another hour or so.'

I looked at my watch. It was ten to five. Mum could be home from work any minute.

'That'll be too late.'

'What about your dad?'

'I don't want to risk it. He looks pretty intent on his woodwork.'

Gnarly thought for a moment.

'Can you get the bus?'

'I guess.' I'd caught the bus out to The Shack before, but only ever on the weekends, and only during the day. The ride took about an hour and a half.

'I know it's extreme, dude, but you definitely need to get as far from your house as you can, and quickly, too.'

He was right, of course. One look at Narelle's face would confirm that to anybody. I made my decision.

'Okay. I'll tell Dad, get my gear together and be on the next bus. See you in a couple of hours, okay?'

'No worries. Good luck, dude.'

'Thanks.'

I hung up the phone and shot out to the backyard. Narelle was in the kitchen making herself a sandwich. She smirked at me and I knew she was waiting for some kind of comment, but right then I didn't have time. I slammed through the back door and ran to the shed.

'Hey, Dad?'

He was fiddling with something on his router.

'Hmmm ... yeah, Nath?'

'Is it okay if I stay at Gnarly's tonight?'

'Huh?' He glanced up at me.

'Can I go to The Shack?'

'Oh ... yeah. Okay.'

Now I was really worried. He hadn't even hesitated. I bolted for the house.

I didn't make it. I was only halfway across the lawn right next to the clothes line when I heard a sound that made my blood run cold. Mum's car in the driveway.

'Oh, no.'

It was worth a try, anyway. I was through the kitchen and up in my room in about three seconds flat. I reckon I would have broken the world stair-climbing record. I threw my school uniform and pyjamas into my schoolbag and headed for the door. If I timed it just right, I might be able to sneak down the hall and out the front door before Mum noticed what Narelle had ...

'WHAT IS THAT THING IN YOUR NOSE?'

Too late. The whole house shook. I swear, the windows trembled. My little sister, Nadine, shot past me in a blue blur on the way to her bedroom.

'Narelle Nuttboard! You take that thing out of your face this instant!'

Frozen on the stairs, I considered my options. It might be possible to sneak out while Mum was still getting over the initial shock of seeing Narelle with a nose-ring, but then again, it might not.

'I knew you'd be like this,' Narelle was shouting back. 'You never let me do anything.'

'I don't want to see any daughter of mine looking like some reject from a pincushion factory.'

'Then don't look at me!'

Suddenly, things in the kitchen went very quiet. The only sound was the back door slamming as Dad came in to see what all the fuss was about.

'What's ...' He stopped. I guess he saw Narelle's face and realised exactly what was going on.

I sat on the steps. No way was I going to make it to the front door now. A couple of minutes later Nadine sneaked out and sat beside me.

'Did you see it?' she asked.

'Yeah,' I whispered back. 'It looks like she slipped when she was putting on her earrings.'

The kitchen door opened and Mum looked out. For someone whose eldest child had just had a steel ring punched through her nose, she was surprisingly calm. Too calm.

'You two can stop skulking around on the steps and come and join us. We have an announcement to make.'

'Actually, Mum, I was just about to go over to Gnarly's for the night and ...'

She fixed me with her best death-ray look. The sort that could strip paint off a wall. 'It is a school night, Nathan, so you will be doing nothing of the sort.' The kitchen door closed behind her like an exclamation mark.

I sighed. Even Nadine gave me a sympathetic look.

'Come on, Titch.'

We went downstairs. It felt like walking into a tiger pit.

The announcement

The last time we had a family meeting with everyone around the kitchen table like this we ended up going on the camping trip. And things worked out okay then, so perhaps it would be the same this time.

At least, that was what I tried to convince myself as Nadine and I walked into the kitchen. The moment I got through the door, though, I knew this would be different. Narelle was sitting at the table, looking angry. Through her left nostril a gold ring glimmered in the light. The hole where it went through her nose was red and puffy.

'Nice ring,' I said. 'Reminds me of the bulls at the Royal Show.'

She ignored me. 'You can't make me take it out,' she snapped at Mum.

Mum sighed.

'You're right. We can't.'

'Eh?' Even Dad looked surprised. My mother never backs down that easily.

'She's right, Kevin. We can't make her take it out. We might not like it, but it's her choice.'

I don't know who was more nervous hearing Mum talking like this: me, Narelle or Dad.

'Besides,' Mum continued, 'this isn't really about her nose, is it, Kevin? We've both been distracted lately. Perhaps it's time we told them.'

'Told us what?' Narelle had lost her whole angry expression. Now she just looked plain scared. 'We're not going camping again, are we?'

'No. Nothing like that.' Dad coughed slightly. 'Actually, it's quite good news, really. Should be kind of fun.'

This was sounding worse every second. Mum interrupted.

'We got a letter from your grandfather in Scotland the other week. He's coming to stay for a while.'

Nobody said anything.

'He should be here in a few days and —'

'Mum,' Narelle interrupted, 'when you say "coming to stay" you don't actually mean here, in this house, with us, do you?'

'Narelle,' Dad answered, 'don't be like that. He is your mother's father, after all, and —'

'But he hates us! We haven't spoken to him in years. Don't you remember what happened last time we saw him?'

I didn't. I was only a baby when Mum and Dad took us to Scotland to visit her parents. Narelle had been about six years old and Nadine was still a long way off. Mum never talked much about her parents, but Narelle obviously remembered them.

'That was a long time ago, darling.'

'Mum, he's evil. You said so yourself.'

'He's still my father. And besides, I think he's mellowed.'

'Mellowed! Hah!'

'He has. I talk to him on the phone occasionally nowadays and he's nothing like he used to be. Since Mum died he's been much —'

'He yelled at me for touching his sporran!'

'What's a sporran?' Nadine interjected.

'It's a kind of Scottish belt, with a bag on it,' Mum told her. 'Narelle, stop being so dramatic and just listen —'

'I hadn't been anywhere near it!'

'Honey,' Dad jumped in, 'I think it was probably long enough ago that we can forget about it.'

'It was cousin Myrtle. Stupid, whiney Cousin Myrtle. That's who it was. She spilled orange juice all over it. But did she get blamed? Oh no! Did anyone believe me when I told them? Not likely.' Narelle was more angry than I'd ever seen her. 'He called me a "wee fibbin' bairn",' she shouted.

I couldn't help laughing.

'I don't think you look like a barn. More like the side of a house ...'

'Not barn, bairn,' Dad said. 'It's the Scottish word for child and —'

'Kevin, it doesn't matter what it means! Can we please concentrate on the issue at hand?'

Dad looked sheepish.

'Anyway, where is he going to sleep?'

Narelle asked. 'It's not like we've got a spare room.'

'We thought you girls might bunk down together for a while ...'

'No way.'

'It's only going to be for a couple of weeks and —'

'No.' Narelle shook her head. 'I've got my final exams coming up this year, and my room is the only place I've got to study. I can't work with her' — she nodded at Nadine — 'interrupting me all the time.'

'Actually, we thought we might move you into Nadine's room. Hers is a little larger, after all, and it would save us having to pack up all her —'

'No way. You know how important these exams are. I'll even take out the nose-ring, but I won't share my room. And I won't give it up for that old monster, either!' Narelle sat back and folded her arms.

This was great. There was no way Narelle would win this one, and her having to share a room with Nadine was one of the funniest things that had ever happened in our house. You see, Nadine's room is ... well, we'll get to that.

'I know,' I suggested. 'I could set up the tent on the back lawn for you. It'd be sort of like having a kennel, all of your very own.'

'Nathan, if you haven't got anything intelligent to add, don't say anything at all.'

'Sorry, Mum.'

I grinned at Narelle while we waited for the inevitable verdict. We both knew she would have to move in with Nadine. She wasn't grinning back.

'You know, Kevin,' Mum said at last, 'I think she's right.'

Eh? Mum really wasn't following her usual script tonight.

'It is unfair to ask Narelle to share her room with Nadine, especially at the moment.'

'Well, where do we put your father then?'

'There's only one solution, as far as I can see.'

They all looked at me.

An evil little smile crept into the corners of Narelle's mouth.

Oh, no.

Changing rooms

Nobody in our family is quite certain how many stuffed toys Nadine owns. Mum tried to count them once, but she lost track at 1,237. Her room is full of them. There are stuffed toys covering the bed, the shelves, the top of the wardrobe, her desk, the floor, under the bed. Hundreds and hundreds of them. Some are huge (a full-size German Shepherd replica named Lush), but most are tiny (little cats, birds, dolls, strange shapeless creatures, bears, lions, tigers, leopards, a pink flamingo with one eye missing). It's frightening.

The scariest bit isn't how many of them there are, though. The scariest bit is that Nadine knows every single one by name.

That's right. Over a thousand stuffed toys, and she can name all of them. Dad tested her on it once.

'Who's this?' He held up a sort of chewed fairy with bedraggled wings.

'That's Deidre.'

'And this?' A small puppy with a pink nose.

'Hepsibah.'

'Right ...'

Of course, she might have been making it all up, so he did a few more, and then held up the mutant fairy again.

'I told you already, that's Deidre.'

Like I say, it's frightening.

Of all of them, her favourite is Strawberry. A small pink rabbit, made of some kind of floppy velvety fabric. Strawberry lives in the middle of Nadine's pillow and she cuddles up to it every night. The rabbit is completely out of bounds to everyone. Even Gnarly, who is possibly Nadine's favourite person in the whole world, isn't allowed to touch Strawberry.

'Oh boy.' I stood in the doorway of my new temporary accommodation and took in the view.

'Come on, mate. It's only for a couple of weeks.' Dad clapped me on the shoulder.

'I still don't get why I can't just stay at Gnarly's.'

'Sorry, Nath. We talked about it, but it's not fair on Jim. We're not even certain how long Grandad Fergus is staying, and we can't dump you on Jim and Gnarly indefinitely.'

'But they said they wouldn't mind.'

'Your mother and I mind. And besides, families are important, eh? Families have to stick together. Now come on, give me a hand with this mattress.'

'We'll have to clear a space, first.'

The floor was ankle-deep in stuffed animals.

'Yeah.' Dad scratched his head. 'Yeah, we will.' He picked up a brown teddy bear in a tattered old waistcoat. 'You know, I think this might be Joe. My old bear from when I was a kid.'

'Really?'

'I think so. I seem to remember him having only one leg, though.'

'What are you doing with Juniper?' Nadine appeared at the door.

'We need to make room for Nathan's mattress.'

'But that's where Juniper and Lark and Whisper and Elmo and Skyler and Arborio sleep.'

'We'll just move them for a while, okay?'

'Hmph.' Nadine stamped off down the stairs.

We dragged the mattress in and dumped it on the floor in the middle of the room. There it lay, surrounded by fluffy creatures.

'Home, sweet zoo.'

'Cheer up, mate.' Dad winked at me. 'Can I leave you to get your clothes and everything?'

'Where am I going to put them?'

'Just make a bit of room in the cupboard. I'm sure you'll manage.'

He left and I flopped down on the mattress which made a strange squeaking sound.

'Weird.'

I bounced up and down a few times, experimentally, and the mattress wheezed and squeaked every time like a mouse with asthma.

'Great.'

Back in my old room, as I pulled the last of my clothes out of the cupboard, I took a final look around. My Machines of Blood and Glory poster was still up on the wall over my bed, but apart from that I'd moved everything else out. My books and school stuff were down in the family room. My CDs and stereo were out in the shed, and now all my clothes were in a pile on the floor of Nadine's room.

'This totally sucks.' I slammed the door behind me.

Nadine was waiting as I carried the last load of clothes into her room and chucked them onto my mattress.

'If you're going to sleep here, you need to know the rules.'

'It's not your room any more. It's our room. So you don't get to make up rules.'

She pretended she hadn't heard me.

'The main rule is, don't touch my toys.'

Like I had any choice. It was impossible to move in that room without poking a polar bear, dislodging a dog, or trampling a teddy — as I proved by accidentally stepping on a medium-sized green thing that looked like a sick iguana.

'Hey! Watch out for Spike!'

'Aargh! What the heck is that thing, anyway?'

'Don't you know?' Nadine rolled her eyes at me. 'Honestly!' She got off her bed and walked to the door. 'Don't touch anything,' she warned me again as she left.

'Great. Just great.' I flopped back down on my mattress. Spike was staring at me with beady green eyes.

'What are you looking at?'

Don't touch anything, Nadine had said. I thought about this for a second and then, using my school shoes as makeshift gloves and being very careful not to actually touch him, I picked up Spike and threw him out the window. He dropped into the middle of Mum's roses, just missing Mrs Finke's cat, which was prowling around our garden as usual. The cat looked at the weird toy and hissed before taking off over the fence like a black streak. Spike lay on his back in rose manure.

Somehow, even that didn't make me feel any better.

Room mates and houseguests

'Narelle, get out of the bathroom! The plane arrives in half an hour.'

'I'm almost ready.'

'We're only going to the airport, for Pete's sake. You don't need forty-five minutes preparation.'

There was no answer from the other side of the bathroom door and eventually Dad stamped off down the hall. I was lying on my mattress, punching a stuffed frog in a tutu and trying to read a surfing magazine that Dad had bought me as an apology for my new accommodation.

'Stop hitting Murp!' Nadine shouted when she noticed what I was doing.

'Sorry.' I chucked Murp over my shoulder and he flew across the room, landing upside down in Nadine's ugg boot, with his tutu around his ears and his skinny frog legs sticking up in the air.

'You know, in France they'd eat Murp's legs ...' I started to say.

'MUM!' Nadine yelled.

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Excerpted from Nathan Nuttboard - Family Matters by Anthony Eaton. Copyright © 2006 Anthony Eaton. Excerpted by permission of University of Queensland Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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