Specky Magee Read online

  3 FOOTYHEAD

  As soon as Specky got home he ran upstairs to the study, plonked himself in front of the computer and began surfing the net. He checked out all his favourite footy blogs and sites, which he loved to do.

  ‘Hey, squirt, my notebook is getting repaired. Get off!’ It was Specky’s older sister, Alice, barging in. She was 14, and very bossy.

  ‘No! Rack-off!’ snapped Specky. He wasn’t in any mood to argue with his sister after the day he’d had.

  Alice leaned over his shoulder to take a closer look at the computer screen. ‘Arggh! Always footy. There’s more on the net than footy, you know,’ she scoffed, then stormed out of the room.

  Specky frowned. ‘Well, not for me there isn’t…’ he mumbled to himself.

  Specky clicked on to a footy forum site and was instantly messaged by someone called CHRISkicks. Specky’s user name was FOOTYHEAD. Not surprisingly, the username ‘Specky’ was already taken.

  CHRISkicks: Hi. Who do you think is going to win the game between the Crows and the Kangaroos today?

  FOOTYHEAD: The Kangaroos. How old are you?

  CHRISkicks: I’m 12 and that’s the truth, I swear. I know people lie heaps in these chat rooms.

  FOOTYHEAD: Yeah, I know. There’s a few freaks out there. I’m 12, too.

  CHRISkicks: So who do you barrack for? I barrack for Carlton. Come on the mighty Blues!

  FOOTYHEAD: Is that where you live, in Carlton?

  CHRISkicks: Yes. Do you live in Melbourne or somewhere else in Australia?

  FOOTYHEAD: Yeah, I live in Melbourne, in Camberwell.

  CHRISkicks: So, you must barrack for Hawthorn then? Since you live near there.

  FOOTYHEAD: No, I don’t.

  CHRISkicks: Then who do you follow?

  FOOTYHEAD: Well, I don’t barrack for one team exactly. I barrack for five teams!

  CHRISkicks: You what? That’s crazy! How can you barrack for five teams?

  It was true. As long as Specky could remember, he was unable to support just one AFL team. His friends, especially Robbo and Danny, used to affectionately tease him about it. They originally thought it was a cop-out, and pressured him for a long time to make up his mind and choose only one team. But Specky couldn’t. He was an avid fan of the actual game rather than any specific team. So he decided to support a group of teams that he felt he had some sort of personal connection with. They were Essendon, West Coast Eagles, Brisbane Lions, Collingwood and Sydney. Essendon, because if he wasn’t going to grow up to be a professional footy player, he would pursue a career as a fighter-bomber pilot. West Coast Eagles, because his grandfather lives in Perth, and he considers him to be pretty cool. Brisbane Lions because his school team are the Lions. And finally, Sydney because Robbo barracks for them; and Collingwood because of Danny.

  CHRISkicks: So what happens if two of your teams get in the Grand Final. Who do you go for then?

  FOOTYHEAD: I flip a coin to decide.

  CHRISkicks: That’s SO weird!

  ‘Simon! I need your help please!’ It was Specky’s mother calling for him. She always called Specky by his real name, Simon. Specky’s family members were the only ones to call him Simon. Everyone else, including Specky’s teachers, called him Specky—which he preferred.

  Specky said a hurried goodbye to his new online friend and logged off to join his mother. She was cleaning out her wardrobe.

  ‘Darling, I want you to take these boxes to the spare room. I’m making some more space here for my clothes. Thanks,’ she said.

  Specky obliged. Most of the heavy boxes were filled with general family memorabilia. While stacking the boxes away, Specky’s curiosity got the better of him, and he casually started to sift through them. He was especially interested in one box that was piled to the top with loose photographs.

  Specky chuckled to himself as he flipped through the images. In particular, a photo taken a year ago, showing Robbo, Danny and himself with birthday cake smeared across their faces. Specky remembered they’d had a huge food fight—it was full-on!

  Specky continued to sift through the photos until he stumbled onto something that caught his attention, exactly the same way the ‘Footy-blood’ newspaper article had done earlier in the day. But this time he wasn’t smiling. It was an old photograph of him when he was about two years old. Specky knew it was him, but he’d never seen any photos like this one! What made this picture stand out from the rest was how Specky was dressed. He was decked out from head to toe entirely in football clothing—Geelong Cats attire, to be exact. Specky was wearing a Geelong Cats beanie, scarf, jumper, and even baby football boots.

  This is so weird, thought Specky. He wondered why his mum and dad had dressed him up in footy gear if they hated the game so much. And why Geelong? They didn’t even know anyone from Geelong.

  Specky was totally baffled, but he was determined to find out the answers…

  4 PHOTO BLUES

  Specky continued to stare at the photograph. He flipped it over, only to discover that there was something written on the back in pen. It read:

  Simon, 18 months old.

  Future footy champ and Cats supporter.

  But I don’t barrack for Geelong, thought Specky.

  He examined the handwriting. It didn’t look like his mum or dad’s. He wondered who could possibly have written it.

  Just then, Specky’s mum barged into the room. He hurriedly shoved the photograph into his back pocket.

  ‘I thought you were helping me!’ said Specky’s mother. She noticed the box filled with the family snapshots, and smiled. ‘Oh, that’s what you’re up to. You’re having a nostalgic moment, are you?’

  Specky looked up at her blankly. He was considering whether or not to ask his mother straight out about the strange photograph. But he didn’t know what to say, so he quizzed her with some lead-up questions instead, as if he were a lawyer on television.

  ‘Mum, do we have any relatives or friends in Geelong?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘Just wondering. Do you or Dad have any friends who barrack for Geelong?’

  ‘You mean the football team?’

  Specky nodded.

  ‘No, we don’t. You know we don’t. What’s all this about?’

  ‘Um, nothing.’ Specky knew he would have to be more specific. ‘When I was a baby, how did you dress me?’

  Specky’s mother had a confused expression on her face. ‘What do you mean, how did I dress you?’

  ‘Did you ever dress me up in, you know, like funny costumes or anything?’ Specky felt he was closing in on his mum. Just as he had seen on TV so many times before. The lawyer would surprisingly swoop down on the witness and put them on the spot, with nowhere else to go. His mum would have no other choice but to tell the truth.

  ‘Never. I never put you in tacky costumes!’ exclaimed Specky’s mum.

  ‘Well, what about AFL football clothes—scarfs, beanies, boots, all that sort of stuff?’

  ‘Definitely not! Is this all about you wanting to get football clothes? Because you can if you want, but out of your own pocket money.’

  Specky reached into his pocket. It was time to swoop. ‘No, it’s got nothing to do with that.’ He pulled out the photograph and shoved it under his mother’s nose. ‘It’s got to do with this. If you and Dad are against footy so much, then why did you dress me up like this? Can you remember when it was taken? And who wrote on the back of it?’

  Specky’s mother took a closer look at the picture, then flipped it over and read the inscription. Specky grinned to himself until he saw his mother suddenly turn pale and serious. Her voice began to quiver as she stumbled to give him an explanation.

  ‘Um, um, maybe the babysitter dressed you up or something, I can’t remember.’

  Specky didn’t believe her. His mother quickly changed the subject. ‘Are you going to help me or not? I can’t stand here and chat all day!’ she snapped, then stormed out of the room.

  Specky was more confused
than ever now, and completely shocked by his mother’s reaction.

  She was obviously hiding something very important from him. But what? he wondered. Specky needed desperately to get some air and to talk this over with a friend. So he decided to head over to Robbo’s house to get his opinion.

  ‘Hey, I’m glad you’re here!’ shouted Robbo. Robbo was heading out the front door of his house just as Specky was coming through the front gate.

  ‘Why?’ asked Specky.

  ‘You can help me try to find a birthday present for my dad. I’m just heading down to the shops.’

  So Robbo and Specky made their way to the local shopping centre.

  As they browsed through the sports store, Specky showed Robbo the unusual photograph, and filled him in on his mother’s strange reaction to it.

  ‘Don’t tell me you barrack for the Cats now!’ said Robbo.

  ‘No, well, I’m not sure. Look, don’t you think it’s weird?’

  Specky was a little annoyed that Robbo hadn’t fully understood his concern.

  ‘I s’pose so,’ he answered. ‘Maybe your mum was right, and it was the babysitter or something. You know, Geelong’s the team to beat at the moment. Maybe you should go for them.’

  Specky shook his head and rolled his eyes. Robbo just wasn’t getting it. Instead, he changed the subject and continued to help his friend search for a gift.

  5 COULD BE?

  ‘I think I might get him this.’ Robbo and Specky had wandered into a bookstore, and Robbo was holding up a book about footy legend Tony Lockett.

  ‘Is this gift for you or for your dad?’ asked Specky, smirking.

  ‘For Dad, what d’ya reckon?’ said Robbo.

  ‘Do you think Lockett’s a legend because of his dad? I bet his father loved footy.’

  Robbo looked confused. He wasn’t sure what Specky was getting at. ‘Yeah, um, sure,’ he replied.

  Specky watched his friend walk over to the counter to purchase the book. For a moment, he wished he was the one buying a gift like that for his father. It would be really cool to flip through the pages of a footy book with Dad, he thought. That would never happen though.

  Specky and Robbo made their way back to Robbo’s house. Once there, they grabbed Robbo’s Sherrin and headed out onto the quiet tree lined street for a friendly kick-to-kick.

  ‘So, did you find any other pictures?’ asked Robbo.

  He booted the ball to Specky, who marked it on his chest.

  ‘No, just the one.’

  Specky kicked the footy back. Robbo fumbled, letting the ball drop to the road.

  ‘Car!’ yelled Specky.

  Both he and Robbo strolled over to the footpath, to let the vehicle pass.

  ‘Let me have a look again,’ shouted Robbo.

  ‘What?’ asked Specky.

  ‘Let me look at the picture again.’

  Specky made his way over to Robbo and handed him the photograph.

  Robbo squinted his eyes so he could thoroughly examine the photo.

  ‘What? What are you trying to look for?’ asked Specky, looking over Robbo’s shoulder.

  ‘Was this picture taken at your house?’

  ‘No, it looks like someone else’s, we don’t have yellow walls,’ said Specky. ‘Why?’

  ‘Did you notice that in the background there’s a photograph hanging on the wall? It looks like a portrait of a couple or something, but it’s too small to see it clearly. I bet whoever is in that picture is probably the owner of the house, and the person who took this photo.’

  Specky screwed up his face at Robbo. ‘When did you become Sherlock Holmes?’

  ‘Look, I’m just trying to help. If you don’t…’

  ‘No, no, I do!’ said Specky. ‘It’s just too bad we can’t see the background more clearly.’

  ‘Maybe we can,’ said Robbo. ‘Follow me.’

  Specky followed Robbo back into his house, and they made their way into Robbo’s father’s study.

  ‘Give me your photo,’ said Robbo. ‘I’m going to scan it, then put it on the computer screen.’

  Specky watched as Robbo swiftly operated his father’s super-advanced computer equipment. Robbo’s dad was a graphic designer, so he always had the latest stuff.

  ‘There you go.’ mumbled Robbo. Robbo had successfully managed to transfer the baby image of Specky onto the computer screen. ‘Now all we have to do is enlarge the background section.’ With a few clicks of the mouse, Robbo blew up the image.

  ‘Oh man, I thought it would work. Sorry, Speck.’

  Unfortunately, when the image was enlarged, it was very blurry. Specky could make out the shape of a man and woman’s head but couldn’t exactly see their faces.

  ‘That’s all right, thanks for trying,’ said Specky, somewhat disappointed.

  ‘Why don’t you ask your dad about the picture?’

  ‘Yeah, I s’pose I should. I hope it doesn’t freak him out like it did Mum.’

  ‘Well, if it does, then you know for sure they’re hiding something from you. Maybe they really love footy and they just don’t want to admit it,’ said Robbo.

  ‘Yeah right!’ scoffed Specky. ‘In my dreams! Nah, it’s something else…but what?’

  For the rest of the afternoon, Specky and Robbo listened to the AFL games on the radio. In particular they liked listening to Rex Hunt. They loved the way he would make any game sound so exciting! Occasionally they paused to play some Wii games, but Specky couldn’t concentrate—his thoughts kept turning back to the photograph.

  Eventually, Specky left Robbo’s house and headed home. When he walked through the front door, he was surprised to see his father and mother seated together on the couch. It looked as if they had been waiting for him.

  ‘How are you, son?’ asked Specky’s father nervously.

  ‘I’m fine,’ answered Specky, in a confused tone. There was an awkward pause. The way that Specky and his folks stared at one another without saying a single word was very strange. Specky could tell that his parents had been discussing something quite serious before he walked in. And by the looks on their faces, it was obvious that the discussion was about him.

  ‘Well, if that’s all, I’ve got things to do,’ Specky said as he quickly thumped up the stairs to the study, where he hopped in front of the computer.

  Specky chewed at his fingernails as he waited for the screen to boot-up.

  That was really weird, thought Specky. He was totally baffled by his parents’ odd behaviour.

  Specky clicked his way into a football chat room, and a message appeared on the screen. It was from CHRISkicks.

  CHRISkicks: Hey!

  FOOTYHEAD: Hey!

  CHRISkicks: The Blues won! Did all your teams win?

  FOOTYHEAD: Um…I think so.

  CHRISkicks: What did you do this afternoon?

  Specky decided to tell his online friend everything about the photograph, how his family were a non-football family, and how he missed kicking a goal that day. He practically told this complete stranger his entire life story.

  CHRISkicks: Wow! That’s some story.

  FOOTYHEAD: Yeah, well, sorry I bored you.

  CHRISkicks: No, you didn’t. Weird, about that photo. Hey, did you ever wonder if you were adopted?

  CHRISkicks: Hello?

  CHRISkicks: Are you there?

  CHRISkicks: HELLO???

  Specky froze. ‘That’s it. Maybe I’m adopted?’

  6 QUESTION TIME

  Specky abruptly ended his conversation with CHRISkicks. The thought of being adopted wasn’t to be taken lightly. Specky wasn’t sure how he would feel if it turned out to be true.

  He went into his bedroom and nervously kicked a plastic toy football around, bouncing it off the walls.

  Specky started to wonder who his real parents were if he was adopted. And why did they get rid of him? It would explain a lot of things, though, like why he was so good at footy and his dad wasn’t.

  Specky suddenly had another th
ought. He took out the photograph from his pocket and stared at it again.

  He decided that his real dad must have taken the picture and that he was the one who wrote on the back of it. Maybe he barracked for Geelong, which would mean that he loves footy, too. And maybe he was a champion player himself, and that was where Specky got his talent from.

  Specky grinned to himself as he fantasised about the endless possibilities of having a dad who loved footy. Then he snapped out of it and his smile vanished.

  This is crazy, he thought. He couldn’t be adopted. He loved his mum and dad. They were his real parents.

  Specky shoved the photograph into his sock drawer, determined to forget the whole thing, believing he was just being foolish to even consider such a thought. But that was easier said than done. For the next week, Specky went about his usual everyday business. He attended school, did his homework, watched his favourite TV shows, went to football training, and hung out with Robbo and Danny. But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind off the photograph and the idea that he could be adopted.

  ‘Hey, Alice, can I ask you something?’ Specky said as he entered his sister’s room.