Hello, Freddie – Amy’s winning short story
30th May 1959
I didn’t see why my parents insisted on sending me to England. Okay, it had standard hygiene ratings, and from previous inspections the school has made a very prestigious impression, but I was happy in Stone Town. I had friends there. I had already been attending St. Peters for three years, and about three people have even bothered to acknowledge my presence. Instead, things had gone from bad to worse.
You see, I was born with four extra incisors, therefore I’ve got an extremely distinct overbite. Of course, the boys at St. Peters will take any opportunity they get to make themselvesseemintimidating or superior. They’ve taken to calling me “Bucky”. Creative,
I know. It’s even better when you get to share a dormitory with one of them. I’ll let you in on a secret, though. I’m actually quite a good boxer, so If I decide I’ve had enough, they’ll be the first to know.
On the plus side, there is a boy who finds me quite funny. His name is Victory Rana. We’ve created a band of some sorts, with someone called Derrick Branche, who plays guitar. I’m the pianist, and I think I’m pretty damn good at it, thank you very much. We still need a singer and a bassist. Derrick told us about this guy, Farang Irani, who plays bass. I introduced this kid called Bruce Murray, who I thought was a satisfactory singer. Not amazing, but, he’s ok, I guess.
The five of us recently started playing together at school events. The girls were jumping up and down and screaming. I swear I’ve heard them talking about us on the grounds. When I say us, I mean Victory. He’s always been the girl magnet of the group. All in all, I’m doing alright.
19th November 1974
Another concert finished. Me and Brian thought it was quite successful, though Roger was in a strop because his drums “didn’t sound right”. Yeah, don’t ask. Deaky, bless him, was quiet as ever. I don’t blame him, he’s the youngest of the group.
I’ve only just managed to peel off my outfit. You would not believe how tight leather pants are. They’re a nightmare with movement.
You fear the worst with every move! On the other hand, though, I thought I looked drop dead gorgeous with them onstage.
Once I had changed into some more comfortable attire, and had joined the boys in the lounge room backstage, a crew member knocked on the door and told me there was someone waiting to see me. Puzzled, I walked outside, to be greeted by none other than my childhood friend, Bruce Murray.
We had quite a good chat together, when Brian came over and told me it was time to leave. I turned back to Bruce, to tell him my thanks for being inclusive towards me, for accepting me, but he was no longer there. Shrugging, I grabbed my jacket and followed Brian out the door.