Monday evening, Thursday afternoon
By Jenny Robson
5/5
()
About this ebook
“And I’m telling you, Louise. There was no red crayon! No, it was because of my pink lunchbox at break and that horrible Sean Groenewald.”
“Red crayon!”
“Pink lunchbox! And your hair shining like a gold crown.”
“Oh, come on! How could my hair ever look like a gold crown? You’re making that up!”
We argued until we both burst out laughing. But there were other arguments going on. Not so, Faheema? Serious arguments that didn’t end with everyone laughing. Arguments that threatened to destroy our friendship forever.
Jenny Robson
Jenny Robson was born in Cape Town. After studying Primary School Teaching in Mowbray and obtaining a degree in Philosophy through the University of South Africa, she worked as a teacher in Simonstown before going to Botswana, where she worked as a music teacher in Orapa for many years. She currently teaches at an International School in the town of Maun, on the banks of the Okavango. She did not start writing until the age of 38. To date she has published more than thirty books for children and young adults*, as well as a novel for adults and numerous short stories. Her texts depict South African teenagers with their dreams, their fears, their hopes and their problems, which resemble those experienced by young people outside the African continent. For this reason her books have been published in the Netherlands, South Korea, Ireland and Germany, where she was nominated for the prestigious Jugendliterturpreis in 2013.
Read more from Jenny Robson
Balaclava Boy (school edition) Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Balaclava Boy Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Granite Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBack to Villa Park Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related to Monday evening, Thursday afternoon
Related ebooks
Seize the Day Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe It Girl in Rome Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsOne Day Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWinner Take All Chapter Sampler Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Christmas in St Ives Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsOnce in a Lifetime Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Mum Hunt Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Bea Is for Blended Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A Way Back to Happy: An absolutely uplifing and emotional read Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Cutting to the Chase Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsZoey & the Moment of Zen Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Out of Place Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Cupcakes and Heels: I Don't Know How She Does It Abroad Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsNew Attitude Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Hello, Goodbye: A Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsNine Ladies Dancing: A Holiday Novella Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsNotorious Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsKitchen of My Heart Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGood Intentions Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5My So-Called Family Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dear Dylan Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Catch Somewhere Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Game Plan Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSummer Sundaes at Golden Sands Bay: The start of a wonderful, feel-good, romantic series from Georgina Troy Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsKissing Mr Wrong Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsForever Summer: A Chelsea High Novel Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsChasing Dreams on Sunshine Island: Escape to the sunshine with Georgina Troy with this feel-good romance Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSecrets and Sunshine by the Sunflower Cliffs: A beautiful, feel-good, romantic read from Georgina Troy for 2024 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLessons in Love Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Suddenly a Star Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Children's Family For You
Into the Wild: Warriors #1 Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5How to Put an Octopus to Bed Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Little House in the Big Woods Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Silver Chair: The Classic Fantasy Adventure Series (Official Edition) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe: The Classic Fantasy Adventure Series (Official Edition) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Coraline Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Little House on the Prairie Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Amelia Bedelia Gets the Picture Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Secret Garden: The 100th Anniversary Edition with Tasha Tudor Art and Bonus Materials Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Wolf Called Wander Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Prince Caspian: The Classic Fantasy Adventure Series (Official Edition) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Smaller Sister Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Fortunately, the Milk Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Crossover: A Newbery Award Winner Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5On the Banks of Plum Creek Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Farmer Boy Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Voyage of the Dawn Treader: The Classic Fantasy Adventure Series (Official Edition) Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Coraline 10th Anniversary Edition Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Number the Stars: A Newbery Award Winner Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5City Spies Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Tikki Tikki Tembo Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Out of My Mind Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Sarah, Plain and Tall: A Newbery Award Winner Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Harriet the Spy Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Double Identity Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Walk Two Moons Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Fixer Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Graveyard Book Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Reviews for Monday evening, Thursday afternoon
1 rating0 reviews
Book preview
Monday evening, Thursday afternoon - Jenny Robson
Monday Evening,
Thursday Afternoon
By Jenny Robson
Tafelberg
Special thanks to Mr Saadiq Davids and Mrs Faheema Hassiem of Cape Town for their guidance and advice.
1. waghied
Am I crazy, Faheema? Am I mad for even trying to do this?
I wish you were here so I could ask you. But of course, the whole reason I’m doing this is because you AREN’T here. Because I CAN’T ask you. If you were here, there wouldn’t be any need for me to write this.
Well, I now have a whole pile of notebooks that Dad brought me from his office. And how many notebooks will I fill before I’ve written down all I need to say? It’s going to take a long, long time. And after all that, will it be worth the effort? But no, I mustn’t think like that. I have to have faith. I have to believe it will make things right, the way they were before.
I miss you so much, Faheema. I’m willing to try anything.
Almost every afternoon after school I come here to the river, here to Gap Falls, hoping and hoping that just maybe you’ll be here waiting for me. But no! It’s been three weeks now and still no sign of you.
So I sit all alone on our favourite rock below the waterfalls. They’re crashing down like never before, Faheema. On both sides. I’ve never seen so much water! Sometimes it floods right over the rocks in the middle and you can’t see where the one side stops and the other side starts. Remember how we used to argue about the waterfalls, about whose side looked more impressive and whose side had a better rainbow? I can’t even remember how we decided whose side was whose. Well, now there’s often a single rainbow stretching way across from one end to the other. Unbroken.
It’s a silly thing to say, but most of all I miss arguing with you, Faheema. It was always such fun. There is no one to argue with now, no one to talk to. Not properly. No one to laugh with. Not the way we used to laugh. Sometimes I get really lonely. But I’m not going to stop hoping.
That’s why I’ve decided to write it all down, everything I remember about us being best friends. I wonder how long it will take. There’s lots to write – all the way from that first day in Grade One. That’s the day we became best friends. At least we never argued about that!
And I’m telling you, Faheema, I remember clearly how it happened. It’s no good arguing about this. And since I’m the one writing this down, it’s MY memory that counts!
I remember all the confusion and terror of that first morning at Proper Big School. It wasn’t a very good start to my school career. But life’s not perfect: that’s something you and I both agree about too, don’t we?
That first day in Grade One! My mom had disappeared, suddenly and without warning. One minute she was kneeling beside me with her arms around me so I could smell the sweetness of her familiar perfume. She was saying, Louise, I’m so proud of you! What a big girl you are! And don’t you look smart in your uniform? You’re going to have a lovely day, doing all sorts of exciting things. You can tell me all about it when I come to collect you. Okay?
And the next minute she was gone, melting into the too-bright pictures along the walls. Clowns and rabbits and shiny fruit that hurt my eyes.
Meanwhile my big brother, Kyle, had already disappeared. Hours before, or so it seemed to me. In through the dark iron gates of Riverside High, into a crowd of huge, pushing, loud-laughing, red-blazered boys. All of them turning their backs to me until I couldn’t work out which back belonged to my brother.
And now here I was, alone and abandoned in this classroom filled to bursting with strangers in blue: girls in blue-checked dresses, boys in plain blue shirts. Blue wasn’t a colour I was used to. Back at preschool, I’d always worn bright reds or cheerful yellows.
I remember staring down at my legs sticking out of that dull checked material and they didn’t seem like my legs at all. Especially with those white socks and black buckle-shoes clamped on at the bottom. I don’t think I’d ever worn white socks and black buckle-shoes before either. They made my feet look like alien beings from some far-off planet, creeping up on me, threatening to slowly devour my whole body.
And then there was the strange, terribly tall woman who stood at the front of the room or who walked in front of the too-bright wall-pictures, speaking in a voice that boomed and made the windows rattle.
I am Miss Walker, children. I will be your teacher for this year. I hope you are all going to LISTEN WELL and WORK HARD now that you’re in BIG SCHOOL.
Listen well? How could I listen well when I could barely make out the words she was saying in the midst of all that booming and rattling? And what did she mean about this year? Was this going to go on for a year? That was about as long as for ever and ever!
The chair was the worst part of that morning. Such a hard chair that dug into my back and made my legs numb! At preschool mostly we’d sat on cushions or on a soft, fluffy mat. Yet, it seemed, here I was supposed to sit STILL and not wriggle around or fidget. And WORK. And NOT get out of this chair.
Louise! Louise Van Rensburg! Is that you wandering around again? Sit down, dear. Get on with your colouring. It’s almost break!
Break? What did the tall lady mean? What was about to get broken?
Don’t forget, everyone, the clown needs a red nose. Green pants and a red nose.
That was when my heart finally thudded to a stop. Red! My clown needed a red nose and I needed my red crayon! But my red crayon was nowhere to be seen. Not on the table, not under the table, not under my chair.
Louise! Louise Van Rensburg! Please stop fidgeting, dear.
Tears were prickling my eyes. Very, very soon, I knew, they would plop over my eyelids and come flooding down my cheeks like twin waterfalls. And all these strange boys and girls would stare and point and laugh. I thought seriously about rushing out of that alien room and running back to the safety and familiarity of my home. Or my old preschool. Or even trying to find the dark, terrifying doorway that had swallowed up my brother. Kyle would help me. He would know what to do.
But at that moment, that very moment, you spoke to me for the first time, Faheema. I’m absolutely sure of this. I hadn’t even noticed you sitting there across the table from me. You had just been part of the blue blur.
You can use my crayon if you want.
Yes, those were the first words you ever said to me. I’m telling you!
I saw you clearly for the first time as I clutched at that red crayon you were holding out – like some magical lifeline. You were small with huge, dark, shining eyes and