Read Online The Ice-cream Man by Jenny Mounfield - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jenny Mounfield
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down the hallway and swinging into the lounge room.
His father was stretched out on the couch with a can of beer in one hand and the TV guide in the other. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘Geez, can’t blame me for wishing, can you?’ Marty spotted the box on the coffee table and moved towards it. ‘Doesn’t matter, as long as I can make calls on it.’
‘Maybe I should’ve got you two tin cans and a piece of string then,’ his dad said with a smirk.
Ripping the box open, Marty rummaged through the packaging. ‘Dad, it’s not here.’
‘It’s there, on the sideboard. Your mother activated and charged it for you. Number’s in the box. You might want to keep it somewhere safe or you’ll forget it.’
Marty retrieved the phone. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘No worries. How was school?’
‘Me and Rick spent lunch in detention. This uptight relief teacher gave us a page of maths to do. Can you believe that? And then –’
‘About this detention,’ Marty’s mother said, walking through from the kitchen. ‘When I spoke to –’
‘It’s nothing, Mum.’
‘It most certainly is not nothing,’ she said.
Marty sighed and stared at the ceiling. Was there anything his mother wouldn’t make a big deal out of ?
His father put his beer on the coffee table and sat up. ‘I have to agree with your mother, son.’
‘Teachers don’t hand out detentions willy-nilly, Martin. You did something to deserve it, didn’t you?
Marty turned the phone over in his hands. ‘Look, it really was nothing. I just made fun of Mr Gunner’s name and Rick laughed, so we got detention. End of story.’ He put his new phone into the zippered pouch under his chair and turned to go.
‘Just a minute, son,’ his father said. ‘Poking fun at someone’s name isn’t funny. And as for it being a teacher, well –’
‘Look, I didn’t say anything rude and all Rick did was laugh.’
‘I told you that Langton boy was a bad influence,’ Marty’s mother said, folding her arms over her chest.
Marty tightened his grip on his wheel rims. ‘This isn’t about Rick. It’s about some stupid teacher who hasn’t got a sense of humour.’
His father frowned. ‘You really ought to respect your teachers, Marty. If this friend of yours –’
‘Leave Rick out of this.’
‘Don’t you dare speak until your father has finished what he’s saying.’
‘Sorry, Dad, but honest, it’s nothing. All right?’
‘Respect is not nothing,’ his father said.
‘Geez!’
‘There’s no need to raise your voice, Martin. You never used to raise your voice before you became friends with that Langton boy,’ his mother said.
Marty threw up his arms. ‘I don’t know why you two bother asking me anything. You never listen.’
‘I know Rick Langton’s type,’ she went on, ‘and they always end up in some sort of trouble, every single one of them. You don’t want to end up in trouble too, do you, Martin?’ She sucked in a breath, lips pursed.
More than anything Marty wanted to scream. He knew if he did he would never stop. He fixed his eyes on his father and said as calmly as he could, ‘Dad, Rick is okay. He’s not in any sort of trouble, honest.’
‘I’ve heard the family has problems,’ Marty’s mother said. ‘The boy always looks so unkempt and I’m sure his mother doesn’t feed him properly. He’s so thin.’
‘Will you just leave Rick alone!’ Marty yelled at her.
His mother took a step back. ‘Don’t you dare raise your voice to me, Martin. Rob, don’t just sit there, say something.’
‘Listen to your mother, Marty.’
‘I don’t believe this bull –’
‘Martin!’ his parents said in unison.
He wheeled away from them and into the hall. The walls were closing in and he couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of the house before his head exploded.
Marty didn’t know where he was going until he got there. He stopped at the top of the ramp and looked out over the bush, sweat trickling into his eyes, chest
His father was stretched out on the couch with a can of beer in one hand and the TV guide in the other. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘Geez, can’t blame me for wishing, can you?’ Marty spotted the box on the coffee table and moved towards it. ‘Doesn’t matter, as long as I can make calls on it.’
‘Maybe I should’ve got you two tin cans and a piece of string then,’ his dad said with a smirk.
Ripping the box open, Marty rummaged through the packaging. ‘Dad, it’s not here.’
‘It’s there, on the sideboard. Your mother activated and charged it for you. Number’s in the box. You might want to keep it somewhere safe or you’ll forget it.’
Marty retrieved the phone. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘No worries. How was school?’
‘Me and Rick spent lunch in detention. This uptight relief teacher gave us a page of maths to do. Can you believe that? And then –’
‘About this detention,’ Marty’s mother said, walking through from the kitchen. ‘When I spoke to –’
‘It’s nothing, Mum.’
‘It most certainly is not nothing,’ she said.
Marty sighed and stared at the ceiling. Was there anything his mother wouldn’t make a big deal out of ?
His father put his beer on the coffee table and sat up. ‘I have to agree with your mother, son.’
‘Teachers don’t hand out detentions willy-nilly, Martin. You did something to deserve it, didn’t you?
Marty turned the phone over in his hands. ‘Look, it really was nothing. I just made fun of Mr Gunner’s name and Rick laughed, so we got detention. End of story.’ He put his new phone into the zippered pouch under his chair and turned to go.
‘Just a minute, son,’ his father said. ‘Poking fun at someone’s name isn’t funny. And as for it being a teacher, well –’
‘Look, I didn’t say anything rude and all Rick did was laugh.’
‘I told you that Langton boy was a bad influence,’ Marty’s mother said, folding her arms over her chest.
Marty tightened his grip on his wheel rims. ‘This isn’t about Rick. It’s about some stupid teacher who hasn’t got a sense of humour.’
His father frowned. ‘You really ought to respect your teachers, Marty. If this friend of yours –’
‘Leave Rick out of this.’
‘Don’t you dare speak until your father has finished what he’s saying.’
‘Sorry, Dad, but honest, it’s nothing. All right?’
‘Respect is not nothing,’ his father said.
‘Geez!’
‘There’s no need to raise your voice, Martin. You never used to raise your voice before you became friends with that Langton boy,’ his mother said.
Marty threw up his arms. ‘I don’t know why you two bother asking me anything. You never listen.’
‘I know Rick Langton’s type,’ she went on, ‘and they always end up in some sort of trouble, every single one of them. You don’t want to end up in trouble too, do you, Martin?’ She sucked in a breath, lips pursed.
More than anything Marty wanted to scream. He knew if he did he would never stop. He fixed his eyes on his father and said as calmly as he could, ‘Dad, Rick is okay. He’s not in any sort of trouble, honest.’
‘I’ve heard the family has problems,’ Marty’s mother said. ‘The boy always looks so unkempt and I’m sure his mother doesn’t feed him properly. He’s so thin.’
‘Will you just leave Rick alone!’ Marty yelled at her.
His mother took a step back. ‘Don’t you dare raise your voice to me, Martin. Rob, don’t just sit there, say something.’
‘Listen to your mother, Marty.’
‘I don’t believe this bull –’
‘Martin!’ his parents said in unison.
He wheeled away from them and into the hall. The walls were closing in and he couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of the house before his head exploded.
Marty didn’t know where he was going until he got there. He stopped at the top of the ramp and looked out over the bush, sweat trickling into his eyes, chest
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