Chapter Nine

 
            When Wayne asked a week later for the tape recording containing the media studies interview with Kirsten Steele it sent Noel Grimwood into a panic. He impatiently went through a whole bunch of tapes that he'd recently made, searching for what he thought must have contained the interview. As his search proved more and more futile he tried to move responsibility away from himself.
            'Why are you asking now all of a sudden?' Mr Grimwood fumed. 'You've had weeks to get this organised.'
            'I didn't think it would be such a hassle,' his son said.
            Mr Grimwood huffed childishly. 'Well, it is turning into quite a hassle now, isn't it?'
            'We have to have that tape dad. It's important.'
            'Yes, I know it's important.'
            Wayne thought it wisest not to press the point any further. It could backfire and his father could give up trying to locate the tape. He knew his rages could turn nasty.
            'It's for media studies you said?' Mr Grimwood triumphantly seized a video from the messy pile he kept near the television.
            'Yeah,' Wayne said, hopeful that the tape had been found.
            'Here,' Mr Grimwood thrust it in his son's hands. 'I've titled it MS, that must be it.'
            'Thanks,' Wayne was relieved.
            'Now stop pestering me,' Mr Grimwood insisted.
            Wayne took his father's advice and kept out of his way for the rest of the evening.
            Early next morning Wayne and Guthrie met at their school lockers. Media studies was their first class for the day and they were proud and eager to show off what they'd achieved so far.
            'You've got the tape?' Guthrie asked
            Wayne took off his backpack and patted it. 'Safe and sound.'
            'How did the quality hold up on the transfer?
            'I haven't got to see it yet,' Wayne said.
            'How come?'
            'Dad was in one of his moods. He had trouble finding the video copy and wanted to blame me for it. Then he wanted to hog the television all night, so I couldn’t look at it.'
            'It'll be okay,' Guthrie said. 'You probably can't even notice the difference.'
            'Exactly,' Wayne agreed.
            The boys entered their class and took their seats. It was in its usual state of chaos. Everyone was talking at the top of their voices, making it impossible to speak at a normal volume. Some students were showing off what they'd done already. Wayne and Guthrie felt an inner glow of pride: they were sure their footage of a real politician, of someone who they at least thought was sexy, would blow everyone out of the water.
            Mr Allcock strutted into the classroom. He was wearing a trendy T-shirt that featured an alien figure embossed in plastic, a pair of baggy jeans and his signature thick rectangular black rimmed glasses.
            'Okay, everyone, quieten down,' he motioned his hands in a levelling gesture.
            Everyone shut up, except Poppy Vacuse-Best. She continued to talk to her neighbour, oblivious to all around her.
            'Poppy!' Mr Allcock raised his voice.
            Poppy snapped to attention. 'What?' she said insolently.
            'Can you please be quiet, I'm trying to start a class here.'
            'Don't let me stop you,' Poppy said sarcastically, turning in her seat.
            'Right, as I told you last week, I wanted you all to bring in what you had done so far for the semester project. I trust you have all remembered to bring in some examples of your work?'
            Mr Allcock searched the class for hands raised ready with excuses. He was surprised to see none.
            'Wayne and Guthrie?' Mr Allcock walked over to the boys' desks and lent on them a little. 'Have you two got something to show?'
            Mr Allcock was singling them out, a little unfairly. It was true they had a terrible reputation amongst all the teachers for never having their homework ready on time, and for making last minute extension negotiations. Yet to humiliate them like this in class, insinuating that they were hopeless, and that not much could be expected from them, was a little mean.
            The videotape containing the interview sat on Wayne's desk. Wayne pointed at it, a smirk of triumph curling on his lips. 'Me and Guthrie have got an interview with Kirsten Steele that we did at her office.'
            'Who is Kirsten Steele?' Mr Allcock asked, unimpressed.
            'She's the new Minister for Youth,' Guthrie was proud to announce. He felt smart, especially since Mr Allcock didn't know who Kirsten Steele was, and obviously should have.
            'Really?' Mr Allcock doubted. 'I've never heard of her.'
            'She was only elected recently,' Wayne said, trying to explain his teacher's ignorance on the subject.
            'Okay,' Mr Allcock tapped his finger on the videotape. 'I'm sure we'll all be very interested in seeing your interview.'
            Mr Allcock returned to the front of the class and tried to rouse his students, who all looked listless and ready to drop off to sleep even though it was only nine in the morning.
            'Who's up first?'
            Poppy's arm immediately shot up in the air. She went to the front of the class with her partner in the project, a frizzy haired girl named Cleo.
            'I'm going to be the spokesperson for our project. Okay?' Poppy turned to Mr Allcock.
            Mr Allcock shrugged. 'Alright.'
            'So okay, we've chosen to do a profile on soapie star Rick Strickland. Me and Cleo have met him already, in real person,  and he is so sweet.'
            Cleo nodded in total agreement.
            'We've chosen to do our profile in a magazine format. There's going to be an interview, facts page, 'did you know about' section, career history and a Rick Strickland crossword. Oh, and not forgetting a sexy pinup. So far Rick has been sweet enough to pose for some photos, which we are now going to pass around the class.'
            This was a job for Cleo, as non-speaker and general lackey. She started handing out the photos for everyone's perusal.
            'Please be careful with them,' Poppy warned. 'Just because we have double prints and negatives does not mean that these photos can be treated like crap. As you can see Rick was really very cooperative with us, especially when we told him we were working for a new teen magazine, soon to be launched. He didn't have a problem at all with taking off his top. Please note everyone, Rick told us those pecs were developed over an intensive two year programme.'
            'You shouldn’t be misleading your subject,' Mr Allcock said. 'He may have cooperated because he thought he was going to appear in a legitimate magazine. I don't want you grappling with ethical issues yet.'
            Poppy got very snitchy at the suggestion. 'I am not misleading Rick. I take this project very seriously. As far as I'm concerned, this will be a real magazine. Please notice the photo quality everyone,' Poppy returned  her attention to the class. 'The skin tones are so real. Rick even offered to strip right down to the buff. But we had to say no. I mean, we're not making a porno here. Rick said he would sign individual copies upon request, so now's the chance girls. I can take orders right here if you like.'
            This caused a commotion. No wonder Poppy's popularity was never in dispute. Suddenly every female voice in Mr Allcock's media studies class was calling out that they wanted a signed copy. Pleased with the response Poppy took out a pen and paper.
            'Okay ladies, okay,' Poppy tried to quell the excitement, 'just one at a time, please. Don't worry. I will personally make sure that everyone in the class gets a chance to place an order.'
            Mr Allcock grabbed Poppy's notebook and sent her back to her seat. 'Poppy will be taking all orders on her own time' he told everyone. 'You can speak to her after class if you want a signed copy of her magazine, but not during my class. Now who's next?'
            To this Wayne and Guthrie immediately thrust up their hands. Mr Allcock either ignored or didn't notice them.
            'Brett. You look like you've got a lot of interesting stuff there. Tell us about it.'
            The boys felt passed over and resented Brett, who had been chosen because he was the most popular boy. His popularity even had the power to unconsciously work on Mr Allcock.
            Brett got up from his seat, cheered by his coterie of mates, and swaggered up to the front of the class with a bag full of promotional gear. He stood before everyone with his hands on his hips, then rubbed a long finger under his nose and waited for everyone's attention.
            'I'm doing something on Matt Stone for my project,' Brett announced.
            Mr Allcock nodded, waiting for more. There was a murmur of excitement through the class. Everyone knew that he was a famous footballer, and that Brett's dad being a sports presenter it was obvious he would get easy access to his subject.
            'He's the undisputed best player in football today,' Brett asserted.
            'Will you be able to meet and set up an interview with him?'
            'Oh yeah, easy. He's a friend of the family.'
            'That's good,' Mr Allcock said. 'You'll have lots of access to your subject. Have you got an example of what you've been working so far?'
            'I've been getting some corporate sponsorship happening,' Brett said, even though this really had nothing to do with his media studies project. He started dragging freebies and give aways out of a huge sporting bag and flinging them at the class. 'I got stickers, sporting socks, sweat bands, watches, caps. I even got some trainers here. Anyone size 7?'
            A lot of hands went up and the trainers were thrown out. Mr Allcock looked on, impressed.
            'It seems like you've been learning a lot of negotiating skills here. I see a definite career ahead as a sporting entrepreneur.'
            'Yeah,' Brett couldn't resist the opportunity to gloat. 'I've been talking to a lot of the big people at the big companies. When you explain what you're doing, and how you can promote the people and products they represent, they all want to come on board. I'm meeting a top representative from Nike this week.'
            There was much ooohing and ahhhing from the students in the class. Brett still hadn't explained what his project would actually involve.
            'That's really well done,' Mr Allcock commended Brett. 'You've really been getting out there and seeing how the media works at grass roots level. Excellent.'
            Guthrie knew that Brett would be a hard act to follow. He had the whole class practically at his feet. He even said that he would probably be able to get Matt Stone to give the class a talk. Guthrie was in no hurry to follow. Not so Wayne. When Mr Allcock asked for another volunteer, his arm shot up in the air.
            'No!' Guthrie muttered desperately, having suddenly lost confidence in their material. 'Wait until later.'
            'Why? What we've got is better than that. He was just giving away stuff.'
            Mr Allcock knew he couldn't avoid the boys a second time, especially with Wayne's arm almost being dislodged from its socket with enthusiasm.
            'Alright Wayne and Guthrie. You can have your turn. Come on up here.'
            The class barely stirred. It was obvious there was little interest in what Wayne and Guthrie had done. Being the class geeks everyone assumed it must be either boring or stupid. 
            Guthrie stood staring at the ground, ready for humiliation. Wayne proudly handed the tape to Mr Allcock. The TV and video was already positioned in front of the class.
            'Is it cued?' Mr Allcock looked dubiously at the tape.
            'Sorry?' Wayne asked, confused. He didn't know what it meant to have a tape 'cued'
            'Is it ready to go?'
            'Oh, yeah.'
            Mr Allcock pushed the tape in and leaned languidly on the TV.
            'Would you like to introduce it, or shall I just press the play button?'
            'I'll introduce it,' Wayne said. Guthrie continued to look at his feet. 'As I said before, we're doing our project on Kirsten Steele, who is a politician. She is now a member for youth in the government and so is really quite relevant to young people. Me and Guthrie are going to make a sort of documentary on her, we think. What we're about to show is an interview we did with her a few weeks ago in which we ask her some questions about herself.' Wayne paused briefly. He felt like he had come to a dead end and had nothing more to say. Rather than continue to warble on - which is what he wanted to do in one sense, for he found that he quite liked talking things up - he decided to get the show on the road. 'That's about it really. We're ready to go now.'
            'You can go back to your seats while we watch the tape,' Mr Allcock instructed. He pressed the play button, turned off the lights, crossed his arms and looked at the TV screen.
            All sat waiting for the images to flicker on. Wayne and Guthrie felt their hearts beating a hundred miles an hour. An image popped up on the screen, with its accompanying soundtrack. It was not what the boys had expected. A cheesy title came up in pink and blue that said, Malibu Sunshine and a fake sophisticated American voice over started to talk. 'Welcome to Malibu Sunshine,' the voice intoned cheerily, 'where America's sexiest kittens come out to play.' A group of three young blonde females came running along the sand arm in arm, and completely topless. The camera then closed in on them, tightly cropping their breasts and heads into the one shot. If they could have done away with the heads the filmmakers certainly would have done so. 'But it's not all play for these beauties,' the voice over cautioned. 'No. These girls have got work to do.' The next shot showed the same three girls, again topless but wearing different bikinis, washing a car. Soapsuds covered a hot red sports number. As the girls put some elbow grease into their scrubbing their breasts playfully jangled over the red paintwork. As if on cue, the girls then started throwing sponges at each other. They laughed and giggled. 'Now girls,' the voice over said. 'Be nice.' Soon buckets of hot soapy water were being thrown and the girls were drenched. The footage slowed down and the film makers zoomed in on the soaped up bodies with glee.
            Wayne and Guthrie were both aroused and horrified. They wanted the tape to stop, they wanted to keep watching, and they wanted to know where their own footage was. Had Wayne's dad put it somewhere at the end of the tape? Why had he given them this tape in the first place? The whole class was in an uproar. The boys were whooping with excitement, whereas the girls were turning away, squealing 'gross!'.
            'I think we've seen more than enough,' Mr Allcock eventually pressed the stop button. He too wanted to watch more, but knew his career could be over if he had left it on a minute longer. 'Guthrie, turn on the lights.'
            Guthrie did as requested.
            'Is this some type of sick joke?' he demanded. 'I should confiscate this.'
            'My dad gave it to me!' Wayne pleaded desperately, trying to get himself out of hot water.
            'Don't be ridiculous.'
            'He did. I asked him to make me a copy off the camcorder and onto a VHS tape. When I asked him for the tape last night, that's the one he gave me. Can't we look through the rest of the tape? It must be on there somewhere.'
            'I hardly think we're going to subject the class to more trauma,' Mr Allcock said.
            At least half the class didn't think this way. A chant had started up amongst the boys. 'More tape! More tape!'
            'Will you all be quiet!' Mr Allcock demanded. He then returned his attention to Wayne and Guthrie. 'This tape has caused enough disruption in the class. It wouldn't surprise me if everyone in this class has to undergo some type of counselling because of this little stunt that the two of you have pulled. Do you know you could even be charged  with sexual harassment? It's not entirely impossible.'
            At first Wayne and Guthrie had thought Mr Allcock's reaction a little out of hand. It was only some breasts afterall, not some major crime against humanity. But now that he had mentioned sexual harassment it seemed much more serious, like they could be up for criminal prosecution. Yet the boys knew they were innocent. It was Mr Grimwood's tape. He must have taped the show for his own viewing pleasure.
            Mr Allcock pulled the tape out of the video machine and thrust it at Wayne. 'Here,' he said. 'I don't ever want to see this again. You're lucky we didn't see much, otherwise I may have been tempted to report this. Is that understood?'
            Wayne's natural impulse was to plead his innocence. His lips experienced an immediate spasm, but Mr Allcock raised an admonishing finger. He knew it was no use. He would have to take the tape home and ask his father about it.
            Out by the lockers after class there were mixed reactions from their fellow students. The boys seemed to think it was a bit of a lark. They were still laughing as they talked about it. Although this didn't mean that the boys had been accepted.
            'You two really are pathetic little geeks,' Brett Austen laughed as he walked past them. 'Didn't you think that you could get yourself expelled? If you weren't such jerks I'd almost say I liked what you did.'
            As Brett's coterie of friends sashayed past they all pointed accusing fingers at Wayne and Guthrie, warning them to watch it in the future. It was the usual type of aggressive behaviour that they copped, determined to keep them in their place.
            It was Poppy who was risibly angry. She approached Wayne and Guthrie directly.
            'The both of you are filthy perverts,' she openly denounced them, making sure everyone around her heard. 'Haven't you ever heard of feminism? Women's rights? What you showed in there was demeaning to women.'
            Wayne was pissed off in turn. He thought she was a hypocrite. 'What about those topless photos you were passing around to everyone? What if I found that demeaning to men?'
            'Yeah!' Guthrie eagerly agreed. He just realised the a double standard being applied here.
            Poppy scoffed at the idea. 'Please!' she said. 'I think there is a difference between pornography and a serious portraiture study. Yes, maybe there was a tinge of the erotic in my photos. Am I to blame if Rick Strickland is totally hot? But it certainly wasn't some smutty porn. It's for a girl's magazine, afterall!'
            'You just said Rick Strickland was hot, and you asked him to take his top off,' Wayne shot back. 'Your pictures were just as bad as the video.'
            Poppy flicked her hair back. It was obvious she felt she was right and Wayne and Guthrie were wrong. She wasn't going to argue the point any further. She started to walk off. 'I have a good mind to report you,' she said over her shoulder as she marched down the corridor.
            'Well, then we can report you too!' Wayne called after her.
            'It wasn't even our fault,' Guthrie hollered down the hallway. 'It was an accident. We're innocent.'