‘Finley?’ his mum called.
Finn madly closed down the game, losing precious ground because he hadn’t saved. He’d have to retake it tomorrow. The computer fan whirred so loudly, even on shutting down, that it sounded like a hurricane through the house. But his mum was washing her hands, which masked the sound. He snatched the game disc out of his PC and slipped it into the Microsoft Word box. Then he hurried out of the study and into the kitchen.
‘Hi, Mum.’
His mum was unpacking a small bag of groceries. She was still wearing her nursing scrubs, but her stockinged feet were bare. She froze, a loaf of bread in her hand, and scrutinised his face.
‘Why do you look so guilty? Have you been looking at pornography?’
Oh, no, please, not the pornography talk.
But the more he tried to look normal, the more he could feel his face heating up. He considered confessing to playing Call of Duty just to avoid this discussion, but he wouldn’t be able to bear it if she took that away from him as well.
‘Finley, I need to be able to trust you when you come home alone. Otherwise, we’ll have to get rid of the computer.’
‘I need it for school.’
‘Well, I don’t know which subject requires you to participate in the objectification of women. You know, Finley, everything you do has consequences. Even just looking at those pictures supports the industry that exploits those poor girls. So when you come home and visit those websites, you’re contributing to ruining lives. Not to mention they could be illegal sites. What if the FBI is tracking you, Finley? I don’t want the police turning up on my doorstep with a warrant for your arrest.’
Finn lowered his head. The heat of guilt and shame ran through his veins, prickling his skin and churning his stomach. He hadn’t been looking at pornography – he wasn’t even that interested in it – but he knew he was doing the wrong thing by playing a violent video game. That he was also supporting an evil industry that made money from glorifying violence. He knew that. He knew that his secret purchase of the game contributed to the manufacturer’s ability to make more games, which more kids would be able to play. And maybe one of those kids would end up getting a gun in real life and doing something terrible. And that would be Finn’s fault.
He started to hyperventilate. ‘Sorry, Mum.’
‘All right. Just remember that the wrong thing is still the wrong thing even when nobody is looking.’
***
Toula handed Finn a piece of paper with five numbered paragraphs of text. ‘You need to read one of these in front of the drama teacher, Miss Poulson. She’s in charge of casting, with my recommendations, of course.’
Finn read through each paragraph. None of them seemed to mean anything. He guessed they were just tiny sections of larger stories. He followed the other auditioning kids and sat on the floor of the school’s drama hall. None of the cricket boys was here. Neither was Kelly and she was the only reason he was doing this. He figured if he got some small part in the play, they’d get to hang out more. But if she wasn’t going to be at rehearsals, this was a waste of time.
Toula stood in front of the group of Grade Six kids. She held one arm horizontally across her stomach, like she was wearing an invisible sling. ‘Welcome to the auditions for this year’s production ofCharlie and the Chocolate Factory. I’m Toula Eliopoulos, your drama captain.’ She bowed.
This girl is weird, Finley thought.
‘You’ll be asked to read one of the monologues on the sheet you were given on entry. You don’t need to memorise it but remember to project your voice and immerse yourself in the character. All right, let’s get started.’
Toula called names in alphabetical order and kids stood in front of the group and recited their lines. Toula hummed and nodded with each delivery and Miss Poulson, a young teacher who seemed really nice, gave everybody lots of encouragement, even if they seemed pretty bad to Finn.
‘Finley Walsh,’ Toula announced.
Finn stood before his new schoolmates, all eyes fixed on him.
Miss Poulson nodded and smiled. ‘Whenever you’re ready, Finley.’
Finn wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready at all. He didn’t even know why he was doing this. It was stupid. He played sport – he didn’t act. How had he even got himself into this situation? He was about to make a complete fool of himself in front of a bunch of kids he didn’t know. He had to back out.
‘I don’t think—’
Kelly slipped quietly through the door at the back of the hall. Nobody but Finn noticed. She smiled at him. And he remembered why he was here.
‘Take your time, Finley,’ Miss Poulson said. ‘And remember, acting is not about you standing before all of us. It’s about your character. When you’re acting, you’re not yourself anymore. You don’t own the things you say and do. They belong to your character. Every action, every word, every consequence. So give yourself over to the character you’ve chosen and let us see him instead of Finley.’
Finn felt a wave of intense relief, as though an enormous bucket of warm water had been poured over him. His body was light and free, nothing holding him down. Miss Poulson’s words echoed in his mind:When you’re acting, you’re not yourself anymore.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let himself go. When he opened them again, he was the Big House Hare and he wasn’t standing before a group of schoolkids and a drama teacher, he was pacing his cell, talking to a fellow incarcerated inmate. When he started speaking, it was with a wise-guy accent, just like he’d seen in movies. He didn’t know where it came from. It was almost like he wasn’t speaking at all – the words flowed out of him automatically, from the page to his tongue without him even thinking along the way.
‘I’m telling you, that tortoise set me up! No way I placed those bets. Who would ever have believed I could actually lose a race to that slow-footed, shell-wearing nincompoop? He carries his house on his back. That’s not good energy economics!’
