Once upon a time, there were two mischievous boys named Simon and Michael. They would play all day in the park or up in the woods behind Valley View, finding adventures or making them up. Their parents would keep them going with bread rolls with heaps of ham, loads of lettuce and lashings of green cordial. They would sit on the decking under the pergola and laugh and laugh.
Sometimes they would play cricket with their tougher (and less good looking) older brothers, of course honoring the rules of can't get out on the first ball, electric wickets, one hand off the roof and over the roof was six and out. They were all such good friends.
The day of the school Athletics Carnival arrived and everyone was excited. Simon and Michael planned to have a show down in the final. They'd been practicing along Pangari Close all summer. They both won through their heats and waited for the final. Standing next to each other they both bragged about how they would win.
"I'm going to win." said Michael.
"No, I'm going to win." said Simon.
They could talk, or not talk like this for hours.
The whistle blew to start the race, they were still talking to each other, perhaps laughing about that time when Simon sat on the roof of the chunder machine as Michael spun it round and round and would not stop. Or the time that they bought chocolate milk from the milko and put it on someone elses account.
They had failed to recognise that the other top runners were in the race. It was to be the hallmark of their lives. Their report cards would read "Michael has ability but lacks attention to detail." "Simon is very cute but needs to concentrate more".
The race included the elite of year 1 Valley View sprinters. Next to Simon (in his only jacket, the bright canary yellow of Wyoming Tigers) is another Simon (one famous on this blog) who at the time was the dark and mysterious young man (boy). He wore brown because it brought out the dark and mysterious young boy (man) that he was and also because it was school uniform colours and was easy to clean.
Next to Simon, in stark contrast, was Smiley Scotty Bennett. The lean, mean, karate machine who would make a reputation of diving on basketball courts even after the ball had gone out. He would become a veritable Bob the Builder, being the only local kid with a job at 16 that didn't involve a name tag and stupid hat.
Next to Scotty was Arthur, known as the kid not appearing in this blog.
Standing at the end, hugging himself to keep in the warmth, was Russell Murphy. The quiet one.The one that no one expected to even make the final. The one no one expect to win. And he didn't.
As Scotty crossed the line in first, Simon, the Curly, and Michael, the boof head, were at about half way, and already starting to cry that this sucked and wasn't fair. Their feelings were boosted by the fact that they still beat the other Simon who had fallen when Hayley Deane (sitting behind them in the photo) had tied his shoelaces together. Kylie Smithson next to Hayley, thought it was the funniest thing she'd seen since Peter Gattenhoff had run into that tree at recess on Tuesday.
Simon and Michael were upset. They were angry. They blamed each other.
"That was your fault." Simon said through the tears.
"No, it was your fault." Replied Michael through his own.
"I'm not your best friend anymore." Simon said through the tears.
"I'm not so sure I ever loved you you ever were." Michael said through his own.
To be continued.........
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