Specky Magee and the Boots of Glory Read online

  Before Specky knew it, he and his friends from Gosmore and Booyong were in the middle of an all-out footy clash.

  For the first couple of minutes, Worm did his best to keep control of the game. But as the tussle got more physical, it turned into a ‘keeping-off’ game, and all the rules were thrown out the window.

  It was a hard-hitting affair right from the start. Specky took some of his trademark high-flying grabs and got the ball to Whispers and Sticks as quickly as he could, while Screamer always tried his best to knock him over. Everyone was getting a belting one way or another – from intentional corked thighs and wacks across the head to grazed knees.

  At one point, Robbo shoved Specky to the ground, landing right on top of him.

  ‘Mate, this is dumb. We shouldn’t be doing this,’ Specky said, spitting out grass and dirt.

  ‘Why? Is that’ cause you’re a true Gosmarian now?’ Robbo replied cuttingly, as he picked himself up and ran off after the others.

  After thirty minutes of nonstop running, tackling, kicking and handballing, the game came to an end. But only just. It took several minutes of Worm shouting ‘Time’s up! Time’s up!’ before they stopped.

  Specky and his Gosmore friends had won by two goals.

  ‘Yes! In your face, Screamer, dude!’ bragged Sticks. ‘Gosmore boys are the champs.’

  Sticks, Whispers and even Worm all began singing the Gosmore song.

  Specky winced. He didn’t feel good about winning against his old friends, who were now marching off in the opposite direction. Specky chased after them.

  Specky didn’t like the way his new schoolmates had celebrated their victory. He had always been brought up to be humble and modest in victory, whether it was a game of cards at home or a Grand Final football match. Great players like Voss, Hird, Buckley, Judd, Riewoldt, Tredrea, Ricciuto and O’Loughlin were very gracious winners who never rubbed the opposition’s nose in any defeat. ‘Humility in victory’ was something that Specky really believed in.

  ‘Hey, where are you going? Wanna get that drink now?’ shouted Specky.

  Robbo and Danny slowly turned back to face Specky. With wounded looks, they shook their heads and continued walking. Specky was gutted.

  ‘That’s rich, Magee! You just crapped on your old mates and now you want them to hang out with you,’ snarled Screamer, jabbing his shoulder into Specky’s back as he walked by.

  ‘Rack off! What would you know?’ Specky snapped defensively.

  Screamer didn’t answer. He just ran ahead and caught up with Danny and Robbo.

  ‘It wasn’t my idea to play against each other!’ Specky yelled after them, watching them dis-appear across the Booyong High Oval.

  Specky didn’t enjoy the last couple of days of the holidays as much as he should have. While he and his Gosmore friends had two full days of fun, he still felt down in the dumps about Danny and Robbo. He tried to talk to them a couple of times, but when he called their homes they were both ‘unavailable’.

  13. decision time

  Specky felt anxious about having to leave the comfort of his home and family again. He knew it would take a little while to settle back into the boarding-school way of life.

  The Sunday evening before the first day of second term, Specky was the first boarder to return to his dormitory floor. Throwing his suitcase on his bed, he sighed heavily.

  Wonder if Tim’s here yet? he thought.

  Specky decided to unpack while he waited for the other boys to arrive, but he was distracted by shouting coming from outside. Specky walked over to the window and looked down. Grizza had some guy in a headlock. Specky ran downstairs to find out what was going on, but by the time he got outside, some other boys had formed a circle around the two brawling lads.

  ‘Hey, what’s up?’ Specky asked Whispers, who was watching the fight.

  ‘Grizza’s beating on some Year Ten guy!’

  ‘I can see that,’ said Specky. ‘Why?’

  ‘Someone said that guy called Grizza a Royal Boy.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A Salisbury Royal Boy,’ added Whispers. ‘If there’s one thing that gets Grizza completely psycho, it’s being called a Royal. He hates it! Drives him crazy! And this guy called him a Royal.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’ asked Specky.

  ‘Because when Grizza’s family moved from Tassie six years ago they sent him to Salisbury College. He was there for about six months before his parents decided to move him to Gosmore.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ shrugged Specky, catching glimpses of Grizza wrestling the guy into the ground.

  ‘The problem is, Grizza hates to think that anyone might think he’s not a fair-dinkum Gosmarian.’

  ‘But it was only six months.’

  ‘I know,’ agreed Whispers. ‘But I’d hate it if anyone said that to me. I went to Salisbury for two years before I moved here.’

  ‘You did?’ choked Specky. ‘Why? Why d’ya move?’

  ‘’Cause at the time, when I was in Grade Three, it looked like I had a talent for playing piano. And Gosmore had a better music program. So Mum decided to move me. She said Gosmore would “nurture my gift”. Dad hated that – he’s a total Royal. And after a couple of years, I gave it up and took up footy anyway. But Mum wasn’t going to move me back, no matter what Dad said. I’d made good friends and I like it better here.’

  Grizza wasn’t going to release the guy, but just then a teacher appeared and broke up the scuffle. Everyone headed back inside, disappointed.

  An hour later, when Specky finished unpacking his suitcase, he and Tim, who had just arrived, were surrounded by Grizza and the other boarders.

  ‘So, did you wimps have a nice holiday to think about your initiation?’ asked Grizza.

  Specky realised he had forgotten all about the initiation. He looked at all the boys staring directly at him. He thought of Danny and Robbo and how he might have lost them as friends for good. And how, like it or not, his future was at Gosmore. The pressure to fit in was so much greater now. He looked at Tim, who was shaking his head.

  ‘So, are you wimps gonna do it?’ Grizza pushed again.

  Specky shot one last imploring look at Whispers, Sticks and Worm, but he already knew what he was going to say.

  ‘All right, we’ll do it,’ he sighed.

  ‘We’ll what?’ coughed Tim.

  14 . boots

  go walking

  Two nights later, it was like déja vu for Specky. He, Tim and all the boys in the dormitory had congregated once more around the same arched window.

  ‘Here are the keys to Regent Hall and Stevens’s office,’ said Grizza, dropping them into Tim’s hands.

  Specky couldn’t believe it – Grizza and Piggie had nicked a set of spare keys from the school janitor’s trolley.

  ‘You sure the cleaner won’t know these keys have disappeared? And are we sure the monitors aren’t awake?’ asked Specky, feeling edgy.

  ‘Yeah. He has, like, a million keys,’ said Piggie. ‘And yeah, we’ve told ya before, they’re the slackest monitors we’ve ever had. We could get away with murder.’

  ‘But what about stealing the Boots of Glory?’ wondered Specky, trying to remain composed.

  ‘It’s not really stealing,’ said Grizza. ‘Once you’ve got the boots, come back here and show us as proof, and then you can take them back. Got that?’

  Specky and Tim nodded.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Worm, bursting through the group. ‘Here, you better cover your faces. Just in case.’

  Worm handed Specky and Tim two balaclavas. One was black and the other was red.

  ‘Always watching out for them, huh, Book-head?’ groaned Grizza. ‘Stop stalling! Just go!’

  Before they knew it, Specky and Tim were standing outside Regent Hall.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s a full moon tonight,’ mumbled Specky through his woollen mask. ‘And there’s no fog. This is crazy. We might as well be doing this with a spotlight on us.’<
br />
  Tim didn’t answer as he jiggled a number of different keys in the keyhole. Eventually, the door clicked open. Specky followed Tim in, quickly closing the door behind them. Quietly the two snuck down the long dark corridor toward the Principal’s office. When they reached the door, Tim tried out the other keys.

  ‘Yes,’ he whispered to himself, as the door swung open.

  Specky exhaled and took a few paces inside. The moonlight was streaming through the bay window across Principal Stevens’s desk, and onto the boots.

  ‘There they are,’ croaked Specky. His heart was pounding even harder than it did when he ran down an opponent on the footy field. ‘Hurry up and grab ’em and let’s get out of here. Quick!’

  Tim unlatched the glass case’s lid.

  ‘Okay,’ he mumbled.

  ‘So, what are we waiting for? Grab ’em and let’s get out of here,’ said Specky again, nervously.

  ‘You do it,’ Tim replied. ‘I’ve got us this far.’

  Tim walked back to the front door of the office, leaving Specky to take the boots.

  Specky felt the palms of his hands wet with sweat. He took a deep breath and reached into the glass case, gently placing his fingers onto the old leather laces flap of each boot.

  ‘Right! I’ve got ’em, let’s go,’ he said.

  ‘No, wait!’ panicked Tim, silently closing the office door.

  ‘What?’ asked Specky, seeing terror sweep across his friend’s face.

  ‘Someone’s out there! I think I just saw the door at the end of the corridor open.’

  ‘What? You sure?’ freaked Specky, almost dropping the boots.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Tim, lowering his voice. ‘We’ve gotta get outta here. Out the window!’

  ‘Then we’ll have to run the long way back to the dorms. Across Regent Oval,’ added Specky.

  ‘I’d rather do that than get caught by whoever’s out there,’ said Tim, locking the door.

  Specky knew he was right – they had no choice, really. And Tim had already opened the window, jumped out and bolted off. It wasn’t until Specky was half way across Regent Oval that he caught up with him.

  ‘Thanks for waiting,’ he said sarcastically, trying to catch his breath and slowing down to a walk.

  ‘Sorry,’ replied Tim, sounding less stressed. ‘I freaked out, but I’m okay now. I don’t think there was anyone there, really.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Specky, still worried.

  ‘Pretty sure. Hey, look!’

  Sitting on the ground a few metres ahead of them was a football.

  ‘Someone must’ve forgotten to pack it away,’ said Tim, scooping it up.

  ‘Hey, why don’t you have a kick for goal?’ suggested Specky.

  ‘Me? No, you should. You’re the star forward. And you know what… Try on the Boots of Glory! See if they fit. That would be awesome.’

  ‘But Worm said they’re like the holy grail of Gosmore. It’d be disrespectful or something,’ he replied.

  ‘Come on! It can’t hurt. I won’t tell the others,’ Tim coaxed. ‘No one will ever know.’

  Specky was tempted. It’s only one kick, he thought. He quickly took off his runners and slipped on the old-fashioned football boots.

  Specky had, over the years, become obsessed with all sorts of sporting equipment: a new football, a new tennis racquet, a new cricket bat, even a baseball glove, although he had never actually played the game. He, Robbo and Danny had spent countless hours in sports stores, and every Christmas and birthday was eagerly anticipated in the hope that there would be something new that they could take to the local oval or court and try out.

  All of his mates were very aware of the different sporting brands and which ones were used by their sporting heroes. Specky was especially lucky that his parents were able to provide him with the best boots on the market, and he had worn many different styles and brands over the years.

  He hadn’t been spoiled, but he’d gone through a pretty rapid growth spurt and it was rare for his feet to fit into the same pair of boots he had worn the year before. A pair of boots that are too small and tight, or too big, can damage a young footballer’s feet, so Specky’s mum always took him to a recognised sports store and had his boots carefully fitted.

  Boot designs were always changing, with new, flash colours and stripes, as well as different soles and stops, but the Boots of Glory were like nothing Specky had ever worn before.

  ‘They feel good,’ he said. ‘They fit me perfectly.’

  Tim handballed the footy to Specky.

  ‘Okay, here we go,’ he said, as he lined up his kick. Specky was about thirty-five metres from the goals, directly in front.

  ‘I can’t see a thing with this balaclava,’ he complained, taking it off. ‘Ah, that’s better.’

  Specky felt the cold night air on his face. He took a few steps forward and… thump ! It was a beautiful kick – a massive torpedo. The ball whizzed through the moonlit sky and right through the middle of the big sticks.

  Specky and Tim made it back to their dormitory feeling like secret agents returning to headquarters from a successful undercover mission. All the boys were excited, and they all wanted to get a closer look at the Boots.

  ‘I have to hand it to you two,’ snorted Grizza, impressed. ‘I didn’t think you could do it. But I wouldn’t get swollen heads if I were you. You still have to get them back.’

  ‘Someone’s coming!’ whispered Piggie, who had been keeping watch at the entrance to the dormitory.

  Within seconds, everyone had scattered for their beds. Specky dived under his covers holding the boots close to his chest.

  The door squeaked open and in came two of the senior monitors, flashing torches randomly across the large room.

  Specky could hear them whispering loudly to each other.

  ‘You sure you heard something? All that study is going to your head,’ one said.

  ‘No. It sounded like a few of them were awake and talking,’ the other replied, now flashing his torch on individual faces.

  Specky could feel them approaching. He had his blanket pulled right up to his neck so they wouldn’t see he was dressed. The monitors were now hovering at the foot of his bed. Specky closed his eyes tightly and felt the bright flashlight skim across his eyelids.

  ‘If they flick back my doona, I’m dead,’ he thought, trying his best to look as if he was in a deep sleep.

  The tense moment passed. The monitors continued on around the rest of the dormitory – and went back to their quarters.

  It was a good hour before anyone on Specky’s floor dared to make a move. In fact, Specky had dozed off for a second only to be awakened by Grizza and some of the other boys standing over him.

  ‘You and Barto have to get those boots back,’ he ordered. ‘And if you get caught, we never saw you.’

  Yeah, yeah, thought Specky. I bet that’s what you’d really like, wouldn’t ya?

  Specky and Tim made their way back to Principal Stevens’s office. They replaced the boots in the glass case and ran back to the dormitory. Their ‘real initiation’ was over.

  15. a note

  For the next few days, all the other boarders looked at Specky and Tim with awe. In fact, since it seemed that no one had noticed that the Boots had gone missing for a couple of hours, they felt pretty calm about the stunt. But one afternoon after school, Specky discovered an envelope sticking out from underneath his pillow. It was unmarked and unstamped. Specky scanned the dormitory to see if anyone had left it for him – no one was looking his way. He ripped open the envelope and took out the typed note inside. It read:

  I saw you take the Boots of Glory. And now you’re going to play by my rules.

  16. masterpieces, training

  and arm wrestling

  ‘Who d’ya think did this?’ Specky asked Tim, as the boys were heading back to their lockers.

  ‘Speck, you’ve asked me about a hundred times since last night. And I told ya, someone’s playin
g a sick joke. I bet it’s Grizza just trying to freak us out.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, you’re right,’ agreed Specky, determined not to think about it any more.

  ‘Catch ya later,’ said Tim, throwing his books into his locker. ‘Good luck with Old Lady Nails.’

  ‘Yeah, you too, with Leggiamo in the library,’ Specky called out after him. The boys went off in opposite directions, ready to do the chores that had been assigned to them.

  Specky stopped by his dormitory and changed out of his school uniform into a pair of old jeans and a windcheater and went to meet the oldest employee at Gosmore.

  ‘Simon Magee?’

  Specky nodded as he approached the stables. He had only seen Nails once before, but even then he could tell that although she was in her seventies she was very agile and full of life. Wearing overalls and gumboots, she looked as fit as any woman, or man, half her age.

  ‘So, you’re the lad who marked my beautiful thoroughbred?’ she asked with a stern look, almost crushing Specky’s hand when she shook it.

  ‘Yeah, um, I’m really sorry, Mrs Nails, I mean Niles. Mrs Niles…’ Specky stuttered, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘Well, I appreciate your apology, Simon. Or should I call you Specky – star full-forward from Booyong High in Camberwell, Melbourne? Recently celebrated a fourteenth birthday… Don’t look so surprised,’ grinned Nails. ‘I know a lot about you. In fact, there isn’t much I don’t know about what happens around here, especially if it involves the footy team. And the one thing I know for sure is that you’re a good kid.’

  ‘Am I?’ Specky said, surprised.

  ‘Yes. So, let me see for myself how you did it. I want you to go and get Sir Lancelot and lead him out here.’