Being a senior at my particular high school gives you a number of new opportunities. Among these is that of Relay4Life. Although I’m assured this event is common all over the world, I think I should give a brief overview of what Relay4Life is before launching into the main story. Relay4Life is an event run regularly, and my school is regularly involved in it. It’s run to benefit the Cancer Council and generally raise awareness. You form teams of ten to fifteen. In these teams you spend the weeks before Relay4Life raising money. The actual event is a 24 hour relay, in which the baton has to be carried constantly around a track from 4:00 p.m. one day to 3:00 p.m. the next (even to people not overly gifted with Maths ability, those numbers will seem slightly dodgy – they’re accounted for by the fact that daylight savings occurred in the middle of the race). It’s not compulsory to run, although some teams chose to. I was in a team with LALA, NESS, PEANUT, PHOENIX, KAPISH, GWEN, MARIE-CLARE, REEDY, STRAWBERRY, DEE, SHOELACE, and FALCON. Lala was team leader. Our team was called, to Falcon’s dismay, ‘The Boomerang Gang’: this was both a reference to our Australian heritage (a trifle too obvious, in my opinion, given that all of us, as well as every other person at Relay4Life, lives in Australia) and Avatar. Apparently ‘Ang’ is the name of the main character from the TV series. This went over my head slightly, but Lala and Phoenix seemed to appreciate it. I’ll be discussing the actual event of Relay4Life in detail – complete with many helpful videos, courtesy of Phoenix, who is also responsible for the subtle concealment of our identities throughout – but first of all I think it’s crucial to mention the process that led up to it. That is, our attempts to raise money for this most noble and notable cause. A number of us raised money individually. Lala had the bright idea of putting one of the jazzy purple collection boxes they gave us to collect money with on the front desk of the pharmacy she works in. She was also sponsored by a couple of people. Falcon managed to get someone to sponsor him for something like $200 – I’m still not sure how, although at one point he claimed it was due to his magnetic personality and phenomenal natural attributes. Hmmm. Anyway, we decided, as a team, that we should attempt to raise money in some fantastic group effort; and to this end, we decided to try busking in Civic. We arranged for five or six of us to go to Civic at midday on Sunday. I promised to turn up if I could. The only problem was, in this clearly otherwise flawless plan, was that we had no idea as to what we would do. I was having a conversation with Phoenix about this very matter as we bussed home together on the Friday – about a week before Relay4Life. ‘I suppose we could play some kind of music,’ she suggested. ‘Why not have the band’s first performance?’ Phoenix and I recently started a band, called ‘Cy!ndablokxs’. It’s glam-punk. The original line-up was her, me, Lala and Peanut. Phoenix was back-up singer and bassist, assuming she managed to learn how to play the bass. I was manager, lyrics consultant, and square-player (NB: the square is similar to the triangle, but, obviously, a different shape. I intend to be a pioneer for this much depreciated instrument). We weren’t totally sure as to what Lala could play, but when consulted on the subject the next day, she wanted to do some kind of combination of tambourine and guitar. Assuming she learned how to play the guitar. Peanut was originally our cellist and songwriter. Unfortunately, when we asked her the next day if she could write us two songs by that weekend, she balked and left the band. We brought in Aviator, cow-bell-player extraordinaire, to replace her, renamed the band ‘You’ve Probably Never Heard Of Them’, and are currently at our status quo of, basically, doing nothing whatsoever. I considered Phoenix’s proposal. ‘Is the band really ready for that kind of commitment, do you think? Also, neither Lala nor Aviator are going to be there, and I probably won’t be able to turn up. It’ll be more like a drawn-out solo.’ ‘You’re probably right,’ she conceded. ‘In that case, what do you think?’ ‘Accapello versions of ELO songs? Interpretative dance?’ I said helpfully. ‘Public interpretative spelling?’ Phoenix offered. ‘You could shine people’s shoes for them.’ ‘That could work,’ said Phoenix thoughtfully. ‘Except I don’t know how to shine shoes and most people will be wearing sandals anyway. Can you polish sandals?’ ‘Probably not.’ ‘Well, we could paint people’s faces.’ ‘Act as a fifteen minute tailoring service.’ ‘We could perform a play.’ ‘What kind of play?’ I inquired. ‘Shakespeare? Everyone loves Shakespeare.’ ‘Might be too long. Couldn’t we get something with a Relay4Life theme?’ ‘A play about Relay4Life? I don’t think that actually exists,’ Phoenix said. ‘We’d have to write our own version if we wanted to do that. Can’t we just perform The Taming of the Shrew?’ ‘What if we combined the two?’ I asked. ‘Shakespeare and Relay4Life?’ said Phoenix doubtfully. ‘That could be interesting.’ ‘I know – imagine if we actually did that,’ I said, laughing gaily (well, no, I almost certainlywasn’t laughing gaily at this point, but it fits in well with the scenario). At that point my bus stop hove into view, and I said a swift farewell and departed. I’ve never been that good at telling whether people are being sarcastic or not. That’s probably why, the next night, I sat down and began to write. I was technically meant to be revising for my History seminar that weekend, but after a day and a half of it I finally got the feeling that I couldn’t take any more, did my printing, crammed it all into my bag, and walked to Civic. After receiving a few cryptic messages from Phoenix, I finally located my friends standing outside one of the larger shopping chains. Phoenix was there, of course, as was Gwen, Kapish, and Mercedes. Mercedes not actually being in our team, I was slightly at a loss as to what she was doing there, but apparently she is just very motivated about the noble cause that is Relay4Life. Also someone had given her $50 to put in the collecting box about half an hour before I arrived, and as such, she was proving to be a valuable asset. I was intrigued to find out exactly what they’d been doing to raise money in my absence. Their answers ranged from the more usual: explaining the nature of our cause, waving the box in front of strangers, etc. – to the slightly more bizarre, such as buying two novelty umbrellas from an extremely cheap shop, writing ‘RELAY4LIFE’ on one and ‘CANCER’ on the other, and having a sword fight with them. They had, however, largely run out of ideas by the time I arrived. I was thrilled to see the umbrellas and promptly skipped around our location, clutching the umbrella to myself gleefully and warbling a version of ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ with several improvised lines. I believe this may have been what led to Kapish’s departure, shortly after I arrived. We still had four people left, even after Kapish abandoned us, which was luckily the exact number I needed. ‘I,’ I said to Phoenix triumphantly, ‘have found a way to solve all your problems.’ ‘Really? All of them?’ ‘Well, this current problem that we have now. As in, not having anything to raise money with. Take a look at this.’ Phoenix examined the sheaf of papers I was proffering to her. ‘This is going to help us?’ ‘Absolutely.’ Phoenix took the top sheet of paper, cleared her throat dramatically, and began to read. ‘Good morning. I’ll be discussing the topic of how knowledge of Shakespeare helps us to understand the story of Napoleon, and which character of Shakespeare’s Napoleon was most like …’ ‘Not that, that’s my History seminar,’ I said hastily, extracting it from her. ‘Look … at this.’ This time I’d managed to hand over the right booklet, and Phoenix stared at it with shock and surprise (more surprise than shock, to be honest) before beginning to laugh. I’m glad to say that I managed to preserve her expression upon my memory for all time. I didn’t take a photo, so I can’t show you what it looked like, but I wouldn’t be able to show you the photo anyway unless I’d blurred her face, so there would be really no point to the process anyway, and this was just a collossal waste of a sentence. Gwen came over, interested. Or maybe afraid of what I’d managed to do. Or maybe just cynically, having seen so much of what I’d done before. It was hard to tell. The three are so often entertwined when I’m present. Her first remark was ‘What’s Leslie done now?’, which seems to fit in with the third one. ‘This,’ said Phoenix, and passed the booklet over. Gwen examined the booklet, then looked up at me with a despairing look on her face. ‘Yes. I went there,’ I said, mostly in response to her expression, but partly because Mercedes had walked over and it seemed the appropriate moment to reveal my grand plan, drama-wise. ‘I re-wrote Romeo & Juliet to be about Relay4Life in ten pages and five acts.’ Which is a sentence I never imagined myself saying. If anyone’s interested I’ll tag a copy of my play (entitled, rather originally, The Tragedy of Romeo, Juliet & Relay4Life) on to the bottom of this post. After all, most of it’s blatantly patented advertising for Relay4Life (I believe Juliet’s first line, after seeing Romeo raising money for Relay4Life on the streets, is “Look, it’s a principled young man doing his best to raise money and awareness for an excellent cause. Let’s give him some money.”) If it’s on as a kind of appendix it won’t be interfering with your hopefully otherwise pleasant reading experience. For now, I’ll just say that there were parts for four actors: the first actor played Juliet, the second played Romeo, the third played Mrs Capulet and Mrs Montague, and the fourth played Mr Capulet, Mr Montague, and Mercutio. I’d brought about six hats with me so people would be able to tell the characters apart. Well, not really hats. Mrs Capulet was played with a beret, and Mercutio was especially noticeable with a sparkly red ABBA-style headband Hitler had made for me once. It turned out I’d mixed up the roles of Mercutio and Tibault in Romeo & Juliet. Nonetheless, the play must go on. And go on the play did. We read the play in the food court – Phoenix was first actor, Mercedes the second, I was the third and Gwen gave an especially convincing Mr Capulet as the fourth actor, while our umbrellas made excellent batons and general props – then moved in front of the fountain to present it to our adoring public. Mercedes left three or four minutes into proceedings, meaning I had to duck into the role of Romeo and Gwen was left to cope with being both all four of Phoenix and my respective parents. Three people actually stopped to watch our play, at three separate instances: PERSON THE FIRST: A man stopped and asked us if we were rehearsing. When we explained that we were actually performing, and had written the play ourselves, he told us that he was studying drama and asked if he could stay to watch (he also donated about 10c). When I got tangled up in my play trying to do the scene in which Romeo meets Juliet (yes, I stapled the booklets backwards. I can’t think of EVERYTHING) he left, wheeling a suitcase behind him. No idea why. PERSON THE SECOND: Another man arrived right at the part at which Mr Capulet yells ‘Take that, charity boy!’ at Romeo. Apparently he was a professional charity collector. He’d become attracted to our play because supposedly he’d had people say that a lot to him in real-life situations. Presumably they didn’t go on to do what Mr Capulet does next, which is shoot Romeo, but all the same, at least there was an element of realism in our play. He gave us about $7 in total and then skateboarded off. No idea why. PERSON THE THIRD: A woman arrived midway through Romeo’s death scene and stayed right up until the end, at which point she applauded. I’d been hoping that she was some kind of eccentric millionare, ready to shower thousands of dollars upon the first charity collectors she came across, but she turned out to be Phoenix’s mother. At that point both Phoenix and Gwen left, and rather than continue on my own with two umbrellas, several hats, and the collecting box, I, too, decided to head home. They did some more collecting during the proceeding week, but I was quite busy – doing my History seminar, for example – and so I went on no more collecting expeditions. I doubt they could have surpassed the awesomeness of that first one anyway. Six days after our not-so-successful (at least, not while I was there) collecting expedition was the relay itself. 24 hours of walking, talking, sleeping (or not), and playing cards (which we did for at least three times as long as we slept for. Probably more). It’s impossible to deal with a 24-hour relay in one long section. I’d surely have to leave some bits out. I have actually left some bits out, partly because they wouldn’t fit, and partly because I wasn’t all that keen on spreading them to the wide world (the bet I made with Lala and Phoenix on Sunday morning, for example …). Nonetheless, given I wanted to include as much of the day, night and day as was possible, I’ve done the sensible thing and divided the event into 24 hour-long sections. They took an hour to do, that is, and about half that time to write. They’re unlikely to take an hour to read. And so, after an unnecessarily long and detailed prelude of the lead-up to this fated event, I give to you: HOUR 0 – 3:30-3:00 p.m. I arrived at the track at 3:30, sleeping bag in one hand, everything I’d need overnight (including a packet of Mars Bars) in the other, hat shading face, comfortable shoes on, sunglasses perched interestingly on nose (they’ve never fitted me properly – I found them on a bike path – so I just pretend they’re supposed to fall off all the time), and Relay4Life jersey being worn. Everyone was supposed to be wearing one of these jerseys, although some especially heat-conscious people had gone with T-shirts instead, and people dressing up with exciting themes had apparently decided there was no need for them. The venue was the same venue as the one our school athletic’s carnival was held at; I mention it in my post ‘Survival of the Fittest’. I mean, I don’t really go into much detail about the venue, but at least you get an understanding of our previous history at this track. Which might help you somehow. In some mysterious way. I managed to find Lala’s tent with little difficulty. Most people had already arrived. To my surprise, I discovered that our team did, actually, have a theme: that of ‘stripes’. Luckily, Peanut had brought two pairs of knee-length stripy socks. One was red and black, which she was already wearing, and the one she offered to me was white and black. The sensible thing to do would have been to take the socks she was offering and put them on. Instead, after a degree of negotiation, we ended up with a red and a white sock each. Lala, as I’ve previously mentioned, was our team leader, and she had decided that she wasn’t going to force people to walk by themselves. Instead, everyone walked with a partner. The first shift was Peanut and I. Each team got to decide the batons they were going to use. Given how well they’d performed in the play version of the event, we had decided to use both the umbrellas we’d bought. And so, at precisely 4:00 p.m. on April 2nd, 2011, Peanut and I set off around the designated track (everyone had set up their tents on the oval in the middle, the track encircled them, and the stalls were outside the track), each cheerfully swinging an umbrella, although I stopped when I’d injured two people with the cheeriness of my swinging. HOUR 1 – 4:00-5:00 p.m. We were doing it in hour-long shifts, and so Peanut and I walked for the full hour. Occasionally, at different points in the first fifteen minutes, Phoenix and Lala would spring out at us and take a couple of pictures. I presume the novelty wore off after then as we didn’t see them after that until 5:00, when it was time for their shift. There was a band playing at one end of the track. You could only hear them when you were in that half. So Peanut and I would wait until we got into that half, sing louder and louder until we were right behind them, then peter off as we got further away. We did this about six times; I’d estimated in the beginning that we’d be able to do twenty laps in the allocated period, given we only needed three minuted per lap. Turns out that it’s hard to move quickly around a 400m track when you’re waving an umbrella and moving at walking speed. This was a lesson we would have done well to have learned. By the end of that first hour both Peanut and I were suffering from sore feet (that, or just general laziness), and were much relieved when Lala and Phoenix arrived exactly on the hour to take our place. HOUR 2 – 5:00-6:00 p.m. Peanut and I limped off the track, rather melodramatically, and lurched towards where we remembered our tent being. We turned out to be completely mistaken. We crossed the oval six or seven times in different directions, and saw Lala and Phoenix twice – at completely different points on the track – before managing to find the place where we’d set up. We’d been meaning to get as much sympathy as possible for our suffering, but by that point we were actually tired, and just sat down for a bit instead. We also started work on the packet of Mars Bars I’d brought. Reedy, Falcon and Ness were all playing Black Lady inside the tent. This is a game that neither Peanut nor I am capable of playing, so, when we’d fully recovered, we went for a walk, instead, to examine the stalls surrounding the track. About half of them were food stalls, and the other half were affiliated with either Relay4Life or the Cancer Council. One stall was selling fake candles, as well as paper bags to put them in, for the Candlelight Ceremony that night. Peanut bought three of them, and we headed, looking weary and worn (it was, it must be admitted, mostly exaggerated – we passed Lala and Phoenix once more on the way back, and they were still fresh and sprightly), back to our tent. This time we managed to find it on the fourth or fifth try. HOUR 3 – 6:00-7:00 p.m. We’d returned to the tent to find the others had, at least temporarily, stopped playing cards. Gwen and Kapish were still in the tent. So Peanut and I slotted ourselves in among them happily and decided to play. Nobody could think of what to play, so I took the opportunity to suggest that most perennial of card games – Cheat. I like to cheat at cards. That is a fact. That is simply how I live. I casually lie on a regaulr basis. There’s generally no point to the lie. It might make an anecdote more interesting, or just add something to the conversation. I don’t do it on as great a scale as Aviator, which is how, I believe, I’ve never really been caught at it. Anyway, cheating is something I enjoy immensely. It’s a lot harder to get away with, which is probably why I never do. Hence, a game in which cheating is actually allowed – nay, blatantly encouraged – is my kind of game. The only problem lies with the fact that Cheat is also about cheating strategically. Not, as I believed, all the time. I lost the first two games, barely won the third one – and then Shoelace arrived, so I munificently left the tent so she could take my place. During this time, Falcon and Lala had been busy. Lala’s father had arrived with an extra tent to set up next to the existing one. When Falcon and Lala had managed to get the tent up, they, Phoenix, and Reedy sat inside. Having been self-ejected from my original tent, I decided to try theirs instead. (I had just looked in through the door of their tent) LESLIE (LE): So, can I come in? LALA (LA): Of course not! This is the cool tent! PHOENIX (P): And you can only come into the cool tent if you have the password. LA: [undertone] We have a password? REEDY (R): [even quieter undertone] What’s our password? LE: Is the password … ‘rosebud’? P: That sounds like a pretty excellent password. LA: Yes, you can come in. LE: Was it actually the password? P: What passwo- I mean, yes, that’s the password. As of now. So I entered the ‘cool tent’ to discover that what they were actually doing was drinking Fanta and playing Go Fish. I joined in with both activities happily. After that I taught them how to play Cheat, and was truly and thoroughly owned. I think it was also about this time that we had our first sip of Mother. For those of you that don’t know what Mother is … well, it’s a drink. Not just any drink. It comes in cans with Gothic writing, is a pale yellowish/green colour, and smells of sour straps. It also has the power to keep a regular human being full of energy, as the occasion demands it. This was the first time I’d been exposed to it, and I drank about a third of a can. Not the wisest move. HOUR 4 – 7:00-8:00 p.m. I’m not sure who was walking the track at this point – I’ve a feeling it was Falcon and Reedy, as Lala, Phoenix, and I were the only ones left in the tent. We were joined shortly be Gwen. Four people in a tent at a charity event? Well, there’s only one thing that’ll be on theirminds! Yes, you’ve guessed it. We decided to act out a version of Romeo & Juliet about Relay4Life. It’s the obvious thing to do. I was Romeo again, Phoenix was Juliet, and Gwen was Mr Capulet & co, as before. Lala was Mrs Capulet and the rest of the people the actor for Mrs Capulet has to play. Lala had never actually seen, read, or heard my play before, so it was a novel experience. Also, Phoenix got bored of doing it in our normal accents. For the first half of the play we did it in a number of different rapidly-varying dialectal forms of Italian, German, French, British, Irish, Japanese, a short-lived attempt at Swedish, and call-centre Indian. Finally Juliet (Phoenix) settled into a comfortable form of Cockney British and Romeo (me) stayed with what I was sure was purest Yorkshire accent, but which everybody else claimed sounded like some kind of American computer voice mixed with a sick Englishman. PLEASE, PEOPLE. I know for a FACT that none of you have ever been to Yorkshire. Not that I have either, but at least I’ve listened to people who have been to Yorkshire pretending to have Yorkshire accents, which is, I’m fairly confident, virtually the same thing. Throughout our performance we had a number of people attempting to enter the tent to do various things. Fortunately Lala and Phoenix managed to scare most of them off with their demands for a password. While my natural response, when confronted with a question I don’t know the answer to, is to make something up, (yelling ‘rosebud’ loudly has worked for me before) it turns out that for most people it’s just to stand around going ‘Wait, you have a password? Would that be … um … well … look, will you just let me in?’ When we’d finished my play we wandered out of the tent to be confronted by Marie-Clare. She’d been at the Raiders game, and hence had arrived late. We all greeted her cheerfully … but were vaguely puzzled by the way she didn’t seem to respond. Luckily, Marie-Clare had a piece of paper, which she proffered to us, and which explained the reason behind her silence, although it didn’t really go into the logic of it. It said something along the lines of: I HAVE TAKEN A VOW OF SILENCE. I REFUSE TO SPEAK AGAIN UNTIL THE RAIDERS WIN A GAME. Which I took to mean that the Raiders had lost. We were all surprised at this vow, partly because it’s almost unknown for us to have Marie-Clare present and for her not to be talking, and partly – well, it has to be said – because the Raiders’ chance of winning their next game (bearing in mind they play about once a week, to the best of my knowledge, meaning she’d already condemned herself to at least a week of silence) is the same as the odds of me playing a single non-cheating hand in the next game of Cheat I play. As in, NOT going to happen. Anyway, we wished her luck and wandered away. The duo that had been serenading Peanut and myself while we were walking had long ago packed up, and been replaced by a five-piece band playing slow dance numbers. Unfortunately, by the time we managed to find our way out of the maze of tents that surrounded us and actually make it to the other end of the oval, they, too, had packed up and gone. We did try doing some dancing anyway, but it’s not really the same without music. Also, the people walking past along the track were clearly much perplexed by our decision to start jiving right next to them. For the good of everybody’s health, both mental and otherwise, we returned to our tent, and nearly made it there without getting lost once. HOUR 5 – 8:00-9:00 p.m. This hour was a marginally less exciting one. We played Cheat again. I lost. Badly. I lost several times. I lost several times badly. Like, really badly. I’ve never been so glad that they hadn’t taken me up on my suggestion of playing for money – or, at the very least, given that none of us had a great deal of spare cash, playing for Mars Bars. After some time, I tired of Cheat – and everyone else grew tired of watching me cheat at Cheat – so they decided to teach me some different card games. They began with Black Lady. I think I lost. I don’t really know. I’m not sure how it happens. I know there’s a position as loser, and one of winner, and you earn either one (but not both) by exchanging cards in a seemingly haphazard but really highly skilled manner. I’m just not sure how these things come about. It’s really not my game. ‘Forget it,’ said somebody after a long and confusing hand. ‘Let’s just play Harry Potter Uno.’ And we did. Right up until about quarter to nine. At this point, Lala decided she wanted to go out and purchase several of the fake candles that were to be used in the ceremony later on. I went with her, as did Phoenix. We bought a bag, and a candle, each, then returned to our tent to write on them. On the negative side, none of us could figure out how to turn them on until five minutes before the actual ceremony. On the positive side, I found a yellow glowstick bracelet on the ground. It was a fairly exciting moment, as you should be able to tell. On the negative side once more, however, we did get lost again on the way back. HOUR 6 – 9:00-10:00 p.m. The candlelight ceremony began at nine. For half an hour all the runners and walkers came off the track and we listened to survivors of cancer tell us their stories. Most of my friends put one of the not-quite-real candles on a track, with sombody’s name on it: grandparents, brothers, sisters, parents, friends. I won’t say which names respective people wrote down on the paper bags as it would be rather an invasion of privacy. But I saw one of my friends, whom I’ve rarely seen do anything but smile and laugh over the two or three years I’ve known them for, crying throughout the ceremony, and another who had placed their bag on the track and proceeded to just stand next to it, deep in thought, until somebody interrupted them. I personally wrote Phoenix’s name next to my candle and left it with the others. Solemn bit is over now, I think. I can’t say more than that without seriously invading the privacy of people I haven’t asked, and I’d find it difficult to describe the service anyway. Moving on past 9:30, which is when the ceremony ended. We returned to our tent without getting majorly lost, which was pleasant. Even better, we returned to the discovery that Lala’s mother had brought us home-made pizza. We enjoyed this thoroughly. We enjoyed watching Marie-Clare trying to mime asking for pizza even more. Lala had brought a bag of glowsticks with her, and we all took one. They came with two sticks and a couple of clips, so you could wear them as necklaces or bracelets (or, if you’re Lala and Phoenix and the fancy takes you that way, earrings). I had a pink necklace which I forgot I had on and wore all night, and part of the next morning. Reedy was trying to make himself a headband. The glowsticks didn’t quite fit, so I gave him my found yellow glowstick. That made it too big, but I think he worked it out somehow. HOUR 7 – 10:00-11:00 p.m. At that point everyone who wanted sleep went back to our original tent, and thos of us who didn’t went to the ‘cool tent’. That was Lala, Phoenix, Reedy, Peanut, Falcon, and I. We had gotten bored of our original games of cards, and after a few rounds of Go Fish, Reedy taught us how to play Texas Holdem. He left after one of us made a suggestion, i.e. that we should play strip poker instead. Falcon went with him. The person that suggested this shall remain unnamed, because (a) I want to give them their privacy and (b) I can’t actually remember who it was, although I have a sneaking suspicion it may possibly have been me. We never actually did play strip poker. None of us knew how to play poker, and it was judged to be unfair anyway, given that we were all wearing different amounts of clothing. Phoenix suggested that we play reverse-strip poker instead, in which you put clothes on instead of taking them off, which led to a great many jokes about reverse strippers. These jokes only ceased when Reedy and Falcon returned: we were scared of frightening them off again. HOUR 8 – 11:00-12:00 p.m. When the boys had returned, we went back to playing Cheat. I don’t know if it was the later hours, or all the Mother I’d been drinking, or the people I was playing with, or some bizarre combination of all three, but I was worse at it than usual. I was cheating more frequently, as well as in a far less convincing manner. And I’m not a great actor even when it’s daylight and I’m not stoked up on caffeine-rich soft drinks. At one point Falcon decided to sit out of a round so he could help me play. I think he lost faith in me after the first few hands. LESLIE (LE): CHEAT! LALA (LA): I think you’ll find that I wasn’t cheating. Take ‘em. (I collect the pile of cards and try to sort them out as the game progresses, while muttering darkly) LE: All part of my plan … wait! CHEAT! REEDY (R): All right, yes, I was cheating. (He takes the cards, meaning it is now my turn, and I have the right to put down any cards I like. At this point, Falcon tried to whisper some tactical advice to me) FALCON (F): OK, you have two eights, and plenty of cards on either side – put the eights down. LE: I’m not really sold on this whole ‘not cheating’ thing. Anyway, I have plenty of cards no matter what I play. F: That’s because you keep losing. And it’s part of the game, Leslie. LE: I suppose I’d better play the eights, then. (I put down a pair of fives) LE: Two eights! F: Leslie, that wasn’t … LE: Falcon, if you’re going to point out to everyone when I’m cheating this game is going to be both tricky to win and full of interruptions. PEANUT (P): Can I call cheat? LE: No, that doesn’t count. I get another first turn. Two aces! R: Didn’t you just put the same cards down again? LA: Could you do it more obviously? CHEAT! (She picks up the cards and inspects them) LA: Wait, this is actually a pair. She wasn’t cheating. LE: I did say they were aces. LA: Oh, yes, then you were cheating. Again. Leslie, why would you put down a pair and NOT say what it actually is? LE: Because THAT’S HOW YOU PLAY THE GAME! EVERYONE: NO IT ISN’T! F: I’m not going to help if you’re going to completely ignore my advice. LE: All right. Whose turn now? LA: Mine. (She puts some cards down) LA: Three queens. LE: CHEAT! HOUR 9 – 12:00-1:00 a.m. We were still playing cards when it changed from the 2nd to the 3rd – Harry Potter Uno, I believe. We’d started to use a rule which meant you weren’t allowed to talk, after a 0 was played, until somebody played another 0. Reedy and I were, at the moment described, banned from talking. ‘Still,’ somebody said (that’s the downside of trying to remember conversations I had at midnight a week ago – I can barely remember anything. Still, at least the people I’m altering the words of so vigorously and mercilessly won’t have any memory of it either), ‘It could be worse. At least we’re not Marie-Clare. How’s she going on her vow of silence, by the way?’ At that moment, Marie-Clare stuck her head into the tent. To be honest, it probably wasn’t atexactly that moment. Nonetheless, the combination of a desire to add drama to this story and my inability to remember the order in which things actually happened leads me to conclude that it may as well have been. ‘Any of you want to go to MacDonalds with me?’ she asked brightly. ‘I don’t want to go alone at this time of night.’ None of us answered except for Lala, who faintly said ‘Marie-Clare, was it just me or hadn’t you promised not to talk again until the Raiders won?’ ‘Oh, well, I didn’t really mean it,’ she said vaguely. ‘I mean, I’ve been doing it for six hours. That’s close enough. I suppose I really should go to bed now, but the other tent is full and you guys are in this tent – never mind. I’ll make them make room for me.’ So saying, she withdrew from the tent. She entered again a moment later. ‘Are you playing Harry Potter Uno? I remember playing that, when I was younger.’ ‘We are, actually,’ I said cheerfully. Phoenix gave me a reproachful look. ‘Leslie, does the no-speaking rule mean nothing to you?’ ‘Oh, no, it’s all right,’ I assured her. ‘I’m under a vow of silence.’ HOUR 10 – 1:00-2:00 a.m. And, you may have guessed it – the hour may have changed, but we were still playing cards. I think our mental faculties were slowly regressing the longer it was we’d been staying awake for. In the afternoon we’d been playing Black Lady. We moved from there to Cheat and Go Fish. We followed this with several games of Harry Potter Uno. I got some of the games mixed up at one point – I tried cheating in Uno and yelled ‘Uno!’ while playing Cheat, which left a couple of people confused. Anyway, we hadn’t got right down to the most simplistic game possible. At about 1 in the morning, we regressed all the way back to age 3 and began a game of Snap. I don’t know what it was – probably the caffeine from the Mother – but we all got very competitive about halfway through the game. Phoenix got out fairly quickly; I managed to win a couple of rounds, but I think I was the next to go. We sat and observed the others playing. Lala, who was very keen, but sadly not fast enough, was next out. I think it was a problem with her technique. You’re meant to slam your hand down and shout ‘Snap!’ when the suits match, not when they’re different. Even when she’d been kicked out of the game – leaving Reedy and Falcon in an epic 2-person final, which resulted in a draw – she still occasionally tried slapping her hand down randomly on the card pile at strategic intervals. Luckily, as it turns out, Phoenix wasn’t wasting the time she spent not playing Snap. No, she was determined to document the whole thing. There was a video of this event, specially tailored to suit this blog: however, due to technical difficulties it's not loading, and you may have to wait for me to load it. Sorry 'bout that. HOUR 11 – 2:00-3:00 a.m. (first time) Given the point of Relay4Life is basically to walk around a track (well, that and raising awareness and money for the Cancer Council, but let’s face it, the main thing is walking around a track), you might have noticed the surprising absence of instances of me actually walking. I’d gone first, and then done essentially nothing since then. Well, at two to three o’clock in the morning (the first time), Falcon and I were forced to wander around the track in the freezing cold. There was absolutely no chance of us getting lost, or accidentally walking off, or even accidentally leaving the grounds and walking to the nearest MacDonalds, because the entire area was floodlit. When we were in our tent we would have thought it was daylight was it not for the fact that we had a kind of skylight (what we had was a giant HOLE in the top of the tent, but ‘skylight’ sounds better), and we could see the stars through that. This may have been part of what contributed to our inability to sleep. Anyway, Falcon and I walked for the hour. Marie-Clare was up too, and was walking with some friends of hers from another team. Whenever she passed us she’d glare accusingly (Marie-Clare hates Falcon, and the feeling is reciprocated), threaten us with something, and move on. I began to think longingly of her brief vow of silence by about quarter to three. There’s only so long you can spend exclaiming different superlatives while somebody tells you about COD. Once you’ve gone past ‘Gosh!’ ‘My goodness!’ ‘Wow!’ ‘That’s amazing!’ ‘That’s sensational!’ and ‘Legen – wait for it – DARY!’ there’s not much more you can say. We finished up at 3:00 – at least, we did until the clock above the track suddenly and disconcertingly snapped back to 2:00, (a) reminding us about daylight savings and (b) making us feel like we were expected to walk the whole thing again. This was, luckily, not the case, and we exchanged umbrella (the red umbrella had been lost by this point) with the next people gladly, to head back to the tent. Falcon has a surprisingly good sense of direction. We didn’t get lost. HOUR 12 – 2:00-3:00 a.m. (second time around) When we came back it was freezing. Luckily, someone had had the good sense to open a sleeping bag (mine) and drape it over everyone. Also, Peanut had finally come to her senses and left the sleeping tent to join us. All in all, we had a good time, playing cards and generally chatting. We managed to get on to the subject of nicknames. Phoenix began to tell us the story of how she’d acquired hers. I didn’t, as some people seem to think, make it up – with most people, actually, they already had these nicknames. And so, here is the story behind Phoenix’s. ‘It’s actually my grandmother’s middle name,’ she told us cheerfully as we huddled around, sitting on the Uno cards (there’d been an accident and they’d been scattered all over the tent. We were still finding them the next morning). ‘Basically, the house that my great-grandparents lived in caught on fire. They managed to escape, and, thanks to the insurance, they didn’t lose very much. Then, when my grandmother was born – soon afterwards – they gave her the middle name of Phoenix.’ ‘Makes sense,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Isn’t a phoenix a bird that rises from the ashes of a fire?’ ‘It is,’ acknowledged Phoenix. ‘But that’s not why they called her that.’ ‘Why, then?’ ‘Because it was the name of the insurance company.’ HOUR 13 – 3:00-4:00 a.m. At about three in the morning – the proper three in the morning, that is, not the pretend one Falcon and me had experienced - everybody tired of cards and pulled out their Nintendo DS. Yes, everyone but me in that tent – that is to say, Falcon, Reedy, Peanut, Lala, and Phoenix – had brought their Nintendo with them, and, in the small hours of the morning, began to play Pokemon. Sad people. Sad, sad people. Of course, I might not be criticising them if I’d been permitted to join in. Damn my underprivileged childhood. I can’t believe I was raised without access to a gaming console. Luckily I was not completely without a tension. About this time, somebody’s phone went off in the next tent. When they answered it, they discovered it was Kapish, for me. Everybody exchanged worried looks as I went out to answer it. Had something disastrous happened? What could necessitate this emergency call? Gwen and Kapish were the current walkers. Could something have happened to Gwen? I answered it rather tentatively. LESLIE (L): Hello? KAPISH (K): Leslie! Is that you? L: Yes, it’s me. What’s the problem? K: You’re walking next, aren’t you? L: Yes – you’re supposed to come off, and I’ll keep walking with Gwen. Why? Has something happened? K: Gwen’s dead. L: What? K: Yeah, so we need you to bring some chocolate with you when you come to walk. L: Oh. OK. So when you said ‘dead’, what you really meant is ‘tired, and needs chocolate’. K: Basically, yes. L: Couldn’t you have just said that? You called me up to ask for chocolate? You could have asked me for it when I arrived! I thought it was an emergency! K: It kind of is. She really, really needs chocolate. I waited until it was about three minutes to four, then exited the tent wearing my Relay4Life jersey and jeans, realised exactly how cold it was, re-entered the tent, and re-exited the tent wearing a fleece jumper, beret, Relay4Life jersey and jeans. I collected a bag of Mars Bars from the box in front of the sleeping tent (it was technically an esky, although the lid had been left off: we’d realised that given the temperatures the chocolate was staying perfectly cold without any artificial assistance) and wandered off to relieve Kapish of her walking duties. And that was all that happened. Yep. HOUR 14 – 4:00-5:00 a.m. I found Gwen wandering around in dire need of chocolate. After consuming a couple of Mars Bars, she seemed relatively fine, a state which lasted until I decided it would be a good idea to take both of our minds off the arduous walking and early hours by telling some lateral thinking problems. Luckily, given I only know about five lateral thinking problems in total, she took about a quarter of an hour to work each of them out. She even managed to completely miss what I considered to be an EXTREMELY obvious *clue* in the middle of one I was telling. Now, of course, the real questions start to arise. Are you, the reader, better at lateral thinking questions than a sleep-deprived caffeine-high Gwen at four o’clock in the morning ? NOW is your opportunity to find out! I asked Reedy the same questions later in the day, and timed his responses as well, so you can get a real understanding of your ability in between these two. ARE YOU BETTER AT LATERAL THINKING QUESTIONS THAN A SLEEP-DEPRIVED CAFFEINE-HIGH GWEN AT FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING? The quiz to entertain the whole family, assuming you live in a family of coal miners who have had no internet access EVER up to this point, and who consider lateral thinking problems to be entertaining. Brought to you by the quiz masters and nonsensical slogan writers at Harper Quiz WorksTM: A Quiz A Day Kept Smart Good Yes Please! 1. A man lives on the seventeenth floor of an appartment building. Every morning he comes out of his appartment, gets in the lift, and goes all the way down to the ground floor before leaving the building. Every afternoon he comes back, gets in the lift, goes up to the tenth floor and walks the remaining seven flights of stairs. He does this every day, unless it has been raining, in which case he goes right up to the seventeenth floor. Why? Time it took Gwen: 16 minutes Time it took Reedy: 5 minutes 2. A black man in standing in the middle of the road. He is dressed completely in black, the streetlights are all off, and there are none of those reflector-thingumajigs on the road. A black car with its headlights turned off turn quickly around the corner: however, it is able to stop before it gets to the man. Why? Time it took Gwen: 11 minutes Time it took Reedy: 3 minutes 3. A man and his son are skiing on a mountain. There’s an avalanche, and the man is killed instantly, but the son is still alive when people find him. He is rushed directly to the hospital. The surgeon enters the room, takes one look at the boy, and says ‘I can’t operate on this boy. He is my son.’ How does this work? Time it took Gwen: 23 minutes Time it took Reedy: 2.5 seconds Hopefully you will now have an understanding of whether YOU are better at lateral thinking questions than a sleep-deprived caffeine-high Gwen at four o’clock in the morning! Coming soon: ARE YOU BETTER AT WORKING OUT THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TYPES OF FRUIT THAN GIUSEPPE IN A FRENCH LESSON? Available in all good stores. © Harper Quiz Works: Why Not Go What To Go To Sleep Now? Never! HOUR 15 – 5:00-6:00 a.m. Gwen and I were thankful to come off our shift – her, because she’d been walking for two hours and putting up with my lateral thinking questions for one, and me, because I’d run out of lateral thinking questions, and also run out of hints to put in them – and head back to the tent. We did get lost. But only slightly. We returned to discover that everyone had given up on cards and was trying to get to sleep. Mine was still the only open sleeping bag, so they’d arranged themselves with their legs in the middle and their heads spread along the edge of the tent. It was kind of flower-like, in a non-appealing way. I skipped over the legs of sleeping people and ended up on the other side of the tent, while Gwen made the sensible decision to open Reedy’s sleeping bag and just go to sleep under that. I said that everyone was sleeping; that was not entirely the case. Quite apart from anything else, it’s very difficult to get to sleep when there are seven people and two open umbrellas crammed under one sleeping bag in a four-man tent. Lala and Phoenix were the ones with the open umbrellas. And they were most definitely not asleep. They were spending their time giggling madly. Occasionally, when it seemed they were about to stop, one of them would pick up one of the Harry Potter Uno cards that were now liberally scattered over the floor of the tent, show it to the other one, and it would set them right off again. I was confused. Luckily, Reedy, who had been trying (unsuccessfully) to get to sleep between the two of them, set me straight. ‘It’s the Snape cards,’ he said wearily. ‘What?’ ‘They’ve been doing this for the past ten minutes. Every time one of them finds a Snape card they starts laughing at it. I don’t know why.’ At this, Lala turned indignantly. ‘What do you mean, you don’t know why? Look at him! He’s hilarious!’ Phoenix concurred. ‘Look at his expression … and his robes … and …’ They both started laughing again, so I ignored them. I still have no idea as to exactly what happened between the hours of four and five in the morning to make Lala and Phoenix this delusional. I’m not even sure if I want to know. They had been fine up until the point that I left. I think this mystery is just going to have to remain shrouded in the mists of time. What? Mystery? Did somebody say MYSTERY? Like this song? (It should be mentioned that I’ve been looking for a feeble excuse to insert that clip over this whole, supremely long post. This is the most realistic place to put it. I’ll take what I can get.) Anyway, it was about this point that people from neighbouring tents began to yell at us to shut up. I think their actual phrasing was more like ‘Reedy! Is that your tent? You and your friends should shut up!’ A hurt expression appeared on Reedy’s face. ‘Why are they targeting me? Those two have been laughing for the past twenty minutes!’ I suppose it was only fair, though. I mean, they’d been dealing with us yelling ‘Cheat!’ and ‘Uno!’ and ‘Snap!’ all night. So we went to sleep. Well, Phoenix and I filmed a three-minute adventure film about the dangers of fitting too many people into a four-man tent, which I won’t be able to show you until we work out how to blur peoples’ faces, and THEN we went to sleep. At least, the others did. I’d only drunk a quarter of a can of Mother so far, but that seemed to be all that was needed. Given I didn’t seem to be able to get to sleep, I just lay down and faked it. Lala and Phoenix left the tent to do their shift at six o’clock. HOUR 16 – 6:00-7:00 a.m. Lala and Phoenix having left, meaning an end to the umbrella-related shenanigans and laughter at Snape, I hoped that I could finally get some sleep. Unfortunately, this plan proved to be fruitless. While my feet, which were under the sleeping bag with everyone else’s (above Reedy’s and, I think, below Peanut’s), were warm enough, everything above the waist was freezing. Also, I was using my beret as a pillow and an empty can of Mother was poking me in the small of my back. Eventually I gave up and got up. This was trickier than it sounds. I had to extricate my feet from everyone else’s, hop over the aforementioned pile of people’s legs without waking them up, make it on to the carpet in front of the other tent where I’d left my shoes, and then put them on without causing my fingers to freeze. This went basically flawlessly – although I think I stepped on Gwen at one point – and I was left outside, in freezing temperatures, at 6:30 in the morning, with nothing to do. I ended up just walking across to the track and waiting for Lala and Phoenix for come around. I must have just missed them, because I was there for ten minutes before they appeared once more. They were both swinging umbrellas, which I took to mean that the red one had been found once more. Phoenix took another film. I’m glad we’re not able to put this one up, because it’s basically just me complaining about the temperature and not being able to get any sleep for five minutes straight. It was a quarter to seven by this time. Luckily the Relay4Life people had foreseen that all the people there (about 3000 in all) would need breakfast, so they had begun to set up. I waited in line while Phoenix kept walking and Lala nicked off to see if she could find any money (the breakfasts were, supposedly, 20c each). She came back with 20c in New Zealand money and a $5 note. The line didn’t actually start moving until seven o’clock, by which point Gwen and Peanut had both been woken up to take their turn at walking. Lala and Phoenix joined me in the line, as did Falcon for a short period of time, until Lala and Phoenix scared him off by relating the incident that occurred between Ariane and Sharona in the spa, while all of us (not Falcon) were present, after formal, and then filming his reaction. HOUR 17 – 7:00-8:00 a.m. Once the breakfast line began moving, it went fairly swiftly. It turned out that you didn’t actually have to pay, so I returned Lala’s New Zealand money to its owner with the contempt it deserved. The breakfast consisted of some bread, a sausage, something that claimed to be an egg but what I was secretly convinced was a form of rubber cement, some fruit (none of us got any fruit. It’s not that it wasn’t there, we just all reasoned that with all the walking, we were healthy enough anyway), and a bottle of flavoured milk. Falcon and I were in charge of collecting the food for ourselves and the walkers, and Lala and Phoenix were supposed to do the milk. It turned out that you were only supposed to take one milk at a time (they didn’t have the same rule with the food, and after we’d tasted it, we stopped wondering why), so we had to take over for Gwen and Peanut on the track while they rushed off to get their beverages. There are few things in life harder than carrying two plates of food and an umbrella while walking around in a sleep-deprived state. Actually, no, there are probably a LOT of things harder than that. Try getting to sleep in a freezing cold, crammed tent, next to two giggling Potter-oriented lunatics after spending all day drinking Mother. But it was pretty hard. When breakfast had been sorted out, Lala, Phoenix, and I went to sit and eat it on the bleachers. It was rather nice. We watched the sun rise (not actually rise, because we’d all been asleep/pretending to be asleep when it had appeared over the horizon that morning, but it was still rising slightly, and so it still counts). HOUR 18 – 8:00-9:00 a.m. We stayed on the bleachers, talking, for about an hour and a half, right up until nine o’clock. Many things were said. We discussed interesting things we’d done last night, which I’m not going to tell you about. I told them about a clue I’d cunningly slipped into a lateral thinking problem I was telling Gwen, which I’m not going to tell you about. I made a slap-bet with Phoenix, with Lala as slap-bet comissioner – which I am going to WIN, although we won’t know the outcome for a good few years, if I have anything to do with it – and which, you guessed it, I’m not going to tell you about. One thing I can tell you about is that we all vowed to do Relay4Life again next year, and come back and do it the year after that, and again, and again, until (a) we die of caffeine build-up over the years, (b) Relay4Life is cancelled due to a freak flooding incident/alien invasion, or (c) we get bored of it. A noble ambition, and one we’re going to stick to. It’ll help us stay in touch. We will, of course, be keeping in touch anyway, in order to fulfil the slap-bet. Which I’m still not going to tell you about. HOUR 19 – 9:00-10:00 a.m. We were forced to stop at nine o’clock for the reason that it was time for Lala and I to walk. We wandered jauntily along, carrying our umbrellas like soldiers, for most of the hour. I told Lala about some of the lateral thinking questions I’d told Gwen in the early hours of the morning. She tried to explain to me exactly what was so amusing about the Snape card (still don’t get it. Not even slightly. My daughters are definitely Strange Things. I’m so proud. Oh, yes, did I mention that Lala, Phoenix, and somebody I haven’t mentioned yet are my children now? I only found out a short while ago). Considering that we’d spent the past eighteen hours together the list of conversation topics we hadn’t gone over in some detail grew increasingly short. Eventually, we decided to try singing songs to pass the time. Unfortunately, Lala knows nothing by The Beatles or ELO, and I know nothing by Franz Ferdinand or Aerosmith. This shocked Lala. She’s been convinced for months now that I’m a closet Aerosmith fan because I have ‘Dream On’ written on my pyjamas. HOUR 20 – 10:00-11:00 a.m. That was my final installment of walking. After that we headed back to the tent (WITHOUT getting lost – quite an improvement) and, oh surprise of surprises, played cards. By this point we’d had enough of Go Fish, people had tired of watching me cheat in Cheat, and the Uno cards were scattered over the tent – when we looked for them later on, we found most of them underneath Lala. We decided to play a new card game. And so Gwen taught us 500. Bear in mind this is not the fun bidding game of 500 that so many of us know and love. This version of 500 seemed to be a glorified way of sorting the cards out into suits. It was boring. Something needed to be done to spice things up a little. So yes, I cheated. I thought it would make it more interesting. And it did. Interesting, in the sense that people insisted we stop playing 500 if I was going to cheat (Phoenix admitted to me later she was glad of the excuse) and we went back to Snap. Then I cheated at Snap, and people stopped playing cards with me. HOUR 21 – 11:00-12:00 a.m. Having been ejected from the card-playing tent, I chose to sit on a tiny fold-up chair outside the other tent. Whilst this meant I didn’t have access to the excitement of playing cards, it did mean I had a ringside seat to ‘watching Peanut try to get to sleep to make up for the time she spent walking during the night while Shoelace tries to keep her awake’. I think it’ll fast become a classic. The humour of the situation may have been heightened by the fact that I was, once more, swigging Mother from the can. Sleep is obviously something I thought I could get by without. I think the Mother-laden haze I was in at this point contributed to the loss of reedy’s sunglasses. He gave them to Kapish to look at. Several minutes later, of which I have very little memory, the sunglasses were GONE. I was accused. Despite the fact I hadn’t left my chair the whole time, I was still somehow responsible for this loss. What do you know. Clearly sleep deprivation DOES have an effect on your brain. Who’d’ve thunk it? HOUR 22 – 12:00-1:00 p.m. It was nearing the end of Relay4Life and, sad as it was to admit it, it was high time we began tidying up. In our case, that meant extricating all the bags, socks, rubbish, empty cans of Mother, spare pages of English assignments, umbrellas, and Harry Potter Uno cards from the ‘cool tent’, extricating Peanut and her sleeping parephenalia from the other, and packing both tents up. Tidying up was a harder job than it sounds, largely because whenever either Lala or Phoenix encountered a ‘Snape card’, they’d rock back with laughter and become virtually useless until (a) they recovered or (b) we hit them. On the plus side, we discovered Reedy’s glasses on the floor of the tent, although it’s still a mystery (did somebody say MYSTERY? ALL MY LIFE HAS BEEN A MYSTERY!) as to how they got there. Finally, we got the tents packed up, and all that was left to do was to empty the rocks. Given that we’d been camping on a sports oval, we had, for some reason, been forbidden to hammer long metal tent pegs into the tender, untarnished earth of the field. Hence the reason for having the rocks there, i.e. to put in bags and leave on the corners of the tent to prevent it from blowing away. And, having spent a night with the tent safely secured, it was now our duty to remove them again. This job was given to myself and Falcon. There was a small ‘garden’ to the right of the bleachers, and we chose that as the ideal spot to drop several rocks surreptitiously. The ‘garden’ (mostly bare earth, a couple of dead weeds, and, when we’d finished, many rocks) was up some stair, and so up we proceeded, Falcon cheerfully carrying his bag, and, me, trailing behind, dragging the rocks, and wheezing dramatically. We located the garden and tipped the large lumps of concrete that had been holding our tent down inelegantly into the garden. As we did so, somebody turned up behind us, made to pass by, and then noticed what we were doing and stopped. I could feel them eyeing me accusingly, so I stopped too. ‘What exactly are you doing?’ the person inquired authoritatively. ‘What, this?’ I said innocently. ‘You mean, tipping rocks over this rather bare patch of earth?’ ‘That’s it.’ ‘This is our trademark,’ I said firmly. ‘Every time we depart from a location we leave some rocks behind us. It’s kind of a memento, for everyone who passes by.’ ‘Oh, really? Don’t you ever get in trouble for it?’ ‘Certainly,’ I said dramatically. ‘You should have seen them when we tried it at the top of the Eiffel tower.’ And then we ran away. HOUR 23 – 1:00-2:00 p.m. Our tent having been packed up, Lala and I went for a brief stroll across to the bleachers. Something we’d done plenty of times in the past twenty-two hours, with perfectly safe results. A fairly danger-free activity, you might think? Well, YOU’D BE WRONG. While we were casually walking a bee came up, stung Lala through her sock, and buzzed away again. Presumably it buzzed away to die a painful death, as apparently they die when they sting you. This does somewhat raise the question as to why the bee had done it in the first place, given we could hardly be blamed with having annoyed it; the worst we’d done was perhaps cross through its territory, as countless people had done before without being stung. Maybe it had mistaken Lala’s brightly coloured socks for some kind of bizarre, moving flower. These were all topics I raised with Lala as we were sitting together in the first aid tent. Considering it was a small tent, and I was technically uninjured, I was unceremoniously ejected from said tent by medics only slightly more aggressive than the bee. HOUR 24 – 2:00-3:00 p.m. The final hour of Relay4Life was initially unexceptional; everyone but the walkers and Lala, who was still in the first aid tent nursing her bee sting, sat on the bleachers, or in other people’s tents, and talked. For the last fifteen minutes we decided it would be fitting if we all walked around together. And so, we did. It was a majestic sight. Lala limping as the bandage she had tied around her ankle slowly slipped off and got caught in her trainer. Gwen muttering deprecatingly upon the subject of people who ask you obscure lateral thinking questions at four in the morning and then compile quizzes mocking your failure. Reedy carefully examining his sunglasses as he walked. Peanut stumbling around, trying not to fall asleep while walking. Marie-Clare chattering cheerfully about the Raiders game of the previous night. And me, somewhat smug about the fact that I’d managed to substitute Mother for any form of sleep in the past 24 hours (I went 37 hours without sleep in total, slept for the normal eight hours, and then went back to my usual schedule, despite Gwen’s prediction that I’d ‘crash and burn’. Energy drinks CAN replace sleep). A truly marvellous 24 hours. Oh, and we found the other umbrella. That really made our day. And that was the tale of Relay4Life 2011. This post has been exceptionally long; the reason for THAT is that I’m presently leaving the country, and am dashing the conclusion of what is basically a novella off swiftly before I have to leave. Expect a full account when I get back, mes lecteurs chers (et mes lecteurs pas chers aussi), and until then, au revoir. But before I go, I present you with my first EVER appendix: This play is not affiliated in any way with Relay4Life, the Cancer Council, or William Shakespeare. The playwright does, however, think the former three things are awesome. Juliet, an yonge wench Romeo, an yonge manne with noble intentions Mr & Mrs Capulet, the wench’s parents Mr & Mrs Montague, the young manne’s parents Mercutio, an generally eville yonge charlatan Actor the First - Juliet Actor the Second – Romeo Actor the Third – Mrs Capulet & Mr Montague Actor the Fourth – Mr Capulet, Mrs Montague & Mercutio JULIET, her father MR CAPULET and her mother MRS CAPULET are walking along a Civic street. They come across a young man, ROMEO, holding a purple cardboard collecting box. ROMEO (R): Relay4Life! Please give money for Relay4Life! All to a good cause! JULIET (J): Look, it’s a principled young man doing his best to raise money and awareness for an excellent cause. Dad, can we give him some money? MR CAPULET (MR C): No, Juliet! Don’t even talk to me about Relay4Life! They’re all scoundrels and scroungers! JULIET: But listen – it’s going to a good cause. ROMEO: All donations go directly to the Cancer Council to aid cancer awareness and prevention! MR C: No, Juliet, don’t ever raise this matter again. J: But mum – MRS CAPULET (MRS C): Juliet, you heard your father. MR C: Let’s get out of here, it’s full of rabble. I’m going to go and get the car. Mrs Capulet, you’re conveniently going to come with me. MRS C: Oh, anything for the sake of the plot, Mr Capulet. Juliet! Stay here until we come and find you. Under no circumstances talk to that young man! J: Well, that’s obviously the furthest thing from my mind. MR CAPULET and MRS CAPULET leave. Juliet initially stays where she is, but then begins to move closer to Romeo. R: Make donations here! All goes to cancer awareness! Receipts available for donations over $20! J: Excuse me, but can I ask exactly what Relay4Life is? R: Relay4Life is an organisation devoted to raising money for cancer patients. There are a number of teams, each made up of between ten to fifteen people. We go around collecting money. J: I see. And why is it called Relay4Life, exactly? R: Well, you see, when we’ve collected all the money we run a relay. We have to keep the baton moving at all times. J: That really doesn’t sound so tricky. I could do that. R: Well, it’s harder than that. We have to keep the baton moving for 24 hours. J: What, straight? R: No, each team member carries it for a lap and then passes it onto the next one. We can sleep and eat in between laps. It’s an excellent charity. J: It certainly sounds it. I wish I had some money to donate to this excellent and worthy cause. R: If only all passers-by were as kindly and warm-hearted as you. [Looks suggestively at actual passers-by]. The problem is, the rest of my team is sick. We may even have to forfeit this year unless we can get another person to help carry this baton for the sake of sick people everywhere. Those suffering from cancer, that is. Not so much the other ones. J: I would like to be involved in your Relay4Life team. R: We’d love to have you. Of course, it’s not always necessary to actually join a team. You, too, can do your bit for cancer patients by simply placing money into one of the purple collecting boxes located in front of you. [Looks suggestively at passers-by once more. Gestures towards collecting boxes]. J: How can I join? R: [Hands her a piece of paper]. Here’s my phone number. Call me later and I can tell you the details. J: Wow, what an excellent start to my day – it’s only just beginning, and already I’ve befriended a random guy on the street and agreed to take part in a noble cause. R: What’s your name, by the way? J: Juliet. R: Nice to meet you, Juliet, I’m Romeo. J: Nice to meet you too, Romeo. It’s a good name. I have the feeling our friendship is going to go swimmingly. MR CAPULET and MRS CAPULET come back onstage. MRS C: Juliet, it’s time to go now – what are you doing? MR C: Juliet, how dare you talk to that stranger specifically after I told you not to? J: What? What stranger? I don’t know what you’re talking about. MRS C: Juliet, you can’t pretend you’re not involved in this transparent plot device. We’re going home immediately. They begin to pull her away. R: Juliet, will you still be coming to Relay4Life! J: I’ll come, Romeo! For the sake of the cancer council and any other affiliated organisations! MRS C: Yeah, ‘stranger’ my upper-middle-class socioeconomic status. [MRS CAPULET and JULIET exeunt] MR CAPULET turns to ROMEO. MR C: I’ll see that none of your helpful, charitable type ever comes near my daughter again! JULIET, MR CAPULET and MRS CAPULET are all back at their house. MR C: Juliet, you are not to participate in Relay4Life. J: [Dramatically] You can’t stop me! MR C: Oh, yes I can! Why don’t you follow your friend Mercutio’s example? Last week he shot a Red Cross volunteer. I love that kid. J: I’ll never be like Mercutio. He’s not my friend. Anyway, what are you going to do to stop me? Make me marry somebody three times my own age? MRS C: [Shocked] What are you talking about, Juliet? No parent would ever consider marrying their child off at thirteen! J: I’m fifteen, mum. MRS C: Well, fifteen’s another matter. I’d be happy to marry you off at fifteen. Do you know any eligible forty-five-year-olds? MR C: Ha! You’re not allowed to do Relay4Life unless you’re sixteen, anyway. It’s a project that requires both commitment and maturity, and therefore those under the age of sixteen are not permitted to be involved. J: How do you know so much about Relay4Life, dad? MR C: I just … well … it’s none of your business, Juliet! But from now on, your staying locked inside the house. At least until Relay4Life is over. I’m not taking any risks. J: How will I go to school? MR C: You won’t. Far too risky. J: You’re stopping me from going to school on the offchance I’d become involved with a charitable organisation? MR C: Don’t try and talk your way out of this. If I know anything about Relay4Life – which I don’t, of course, because I was never involved with it in any way – it’s that I don’t want you doing it! [He exits] J: Well, that wasn’t suspicious. MRS C: Yeah, I’m going to go now. Mrs Capulet out! [She exits] J: They can’t stop me doing all I can to benefit the Cancer Council! She pulls out her mobile phone and dials ROMEO’S number. As she does this, ROMEO comes on stage to receive the phone call. J: Hello? R: Is this Juliet? J: Yes, it is. We must live pretty close to each other. I can hear you really well. R: Same here, actually. Have you decided whether you want to be involved in Relay4Life or not? J: Sign me up, Romeo. R: Excellent. Well, the actual relay is the day after tomorrow. J: Well, I’ll see you there then. R: Would you like to come collecting with me in Civic tomorrow? Every bit helps. J: Of course. Any money anyone can spare will be useful. It’s all going to this good cause. Why not donate to the Cancer Council? Both she and ROMEO stare accusingly at people passing by. R: Well, see you tomorrow then. J: Goodbye. She hangs up, and then looks at ROMEO. He shrugs. J: I hung up. That means you can go. R: Oh, yeah, right, sorry. I forgot to press ‘END CALL’. Well, see you. J: See you. ROMEO and JULIET are standing in Civic, both waving collecting boxes. R: Spare some change! J: Give us a penny and we can help many! R: Make a donation and benefit the nation! J: Relay4Life will end trouble and strife! R: Give us some cents and we’ll make a difference! [He pauses]. Come on, Juliet, it’s your turn. J: No, I’m still thinking about the ‘cents’ and ‘difference’ one. R: What about it? J: Well, it doesn’t really rhyme, does it? R: Yeah, it does. Listen. ‘Cents’. ‘Differ-ence’. J: Who says it ‘differ-ence’? R: Well … They both pause. J: Money for Relay4Life! All goes to a good cause! MERCUTIO walks in. MERCUTIO (M): Juliet, is that you? J: Mercutio! R: Who is it? J: It’s my … acquaintance. From school. R: Is he likely to give us money? J: Considering we’re doing this for charity? He’s more likely to pay for our funerals. R: Well, that’s nice of him. M: Juliet! What are you doing? J: I’m fighting for a noble cause, Mercutio! Relay4Life for the win! M: I’m going to tell your parents about this, Juliet. J: Oh, please don’t. That would really ruin my day. M: Come with me, then. I need to talk to you. You can go back to your little charity friend later. J: Oh, all right. Romeo! I’ll be back as soon as I can! R: Well, don’t feel you have to hurry. In fact, I think people are actually giving me less money now you’re here. J: I will return, Romeo! R: It’s probably to do with your aggressive techniques. You shouldn’t have yelled at that group of people. Or that old man. Or those children. J: They all gave us money, didn’t they? R: Yeah, well, that’s not really the point. J: No more, Romeo! I will be back momentarily! M: Are you coming or not? R: All I’m saying is, don’t feel pressured to hurry back. J: Shut it, Romeo. Give me a minute. [To Mercutio} What did you want? MERCUTIO and JULIET walk forward to the front of the stage, which somehow makes them out of ROMEO’S hearing. M: So, Juliet, you’re a Relay4Lifer now, are you? J: Certainly am. Can I help you? M: Juliet … there are many things I hate in this world. Poetry. Flowers. Comemmorative plates. Above those things, however, is charitable organisations. Specifically, Relay4Life. J: That’s certainly convenient for the frankly rather thin plotline. Where exactly are you going with this? M: I want to sabotage Relay4Life this year. And you’re going to help me. J: No! You fiend! Why would I help you? M: Because otherwise, I’ll tell your parents. And not only would you be banned from ever leaving the house, you’d never be able to see your charitable friend over there again. They turn and look at ROMEO. R: Money to a good cause! Why not make a donation to Relay4Life? All goes towards cancer research and awareness programs! M: Juliet, if you work with me here not only will I not tell your parents about how you went against their wishes, I can get their approval for you to see this boy. All you have to do is help me ruin Relay4Life this year. M: I have an … understanding with your mother. J: Don’t even go there. M: Juliet. Chill. It’s a short play. Make some concessions here. J: How can I betray the trust placed in me by that holy and noble institution, Relay4Life? M: Well, in that case … He pulls out his phone and calls JULIET’S home. MRS CAPULET comes onstage to answer the phone. MRS C: Capulet household, can I help you? M: Hey, Stacy, it’s Mercutio. MRS C: Oh, hey, honey, can I help you? I didn’t expect you to call again so soon … not after last night. You remember … J: Mother! Please! MRS C: Is Juliet there? She’s not supposed to have left the house! M: Well, actually, Mrs C, there’s an interesting story behind that – J: No! Wait! She grabs the phone from him and hangs up. MRS CAPULET sidles off stage. J: Don’t tell her. I’ll do what you want. Just don’t hurt Romeo. M: Then you’ll do what I ask? J: I will. M: In that case, this is my plan … [He pauses] J: Yes? M: Hang on, I’m waiting for the scene to end. J: Yerwhat? M: It’ll be more dramatic this way. Give it a minute. [He pauses once more] J: How will people figure out what your plan is if the scene ends? M: It’ll be more dramatic that way, you philistine. Ah, here we go. This, Juliet, is my plan … MR MONTAGUE (MR M): Where have you been, son? R: Collecting for Relay4Life, mum. I mean, dad. MR M: Ah, Relay4Life. Nice to know our son is involved in such a noble and worthy cause which is always in need of your donations. Even some spare change can make a difference. Donate today to change somebody’s life tomorrow. [He looks pointedly at passers-by] Did I ever tell you that I did Relay4Life when I was your age, Romeo? R: Why, no, dad, I had genuinely no idea. MR M: Ah, they were heady days. When they were running it at my old school we used to have competitions between the teams to see who could raise the most money. Of course, nobody took it seriously, because the point is of course to run the relay for the sake of cancer patients, not the joy of winning. Except for one young man – but that’s not for today. How have you gone with your collection? R: Not bad. Everyone in Civic is so willing to give money to this wonderful and noble cause, it’s truly inspiring. [You know the drill. He looks at passers-by]. In fact, there was this one girl who was collecting money with me. Admittedly she was a tad too aggressive, and she left halfway through to talk to a friend of hers who looked … bizarrely familiar … [He turns to look at his mother, who continues her knitting]. Still, I think she’ll be a valuable asset to our Relay4Life team. MR M: What’s her name? R: Juliet Capulet. MR M: Capulet! R: What about it? MR M: Edgar Capulet was the man I was telling you about just now. We did Relay4Life together many years ago. However, when our team raised more money than his, he vowed never to participate, or even support it, again. He’s a terrible man. MRS MONTAGUE (MRS M): Actually, I think he’s quite attractive. MR M: Are you sure you can trust this Capulet, Romeo? R: Of course! I’m sure she’ll be at Relay4Life tomorrow. MR M: Well, just be careful. It’s roughly a day later, and Relay4Life is about halfway through. Romeo is running slowly, carrying a baton. He stops R: I can’t believe Juliet didn’t show up. I’m going to have to run the whole 24 hour relay on my own. The point of Relay4Life is to encourage teamwork and commitment. Also, I’m not sure it’s physically possible to run for 24 hours straight. R: I don’t know if I can go on … At that moment, JULIET arrives onstage. J: Romeo! No! Don’t drop the baton! That will somehow make everything else we’ve done worthless, even though the money is still going to an excellent cause! R: Juliet! You came at last! It’s been long and hard, but you finally came! J: Firstly, Romeo, that’s what she said. Secondly, I betrayed you. It’s a trap. R: What do you mean? J: For goodness’ sake, Romeo, you’re not really the brightest star in the galaxy, are you? M: Hello, Montague. R: What? How do you know my name? M: I have an … understanding with your father. That’s not the point. The point is that I’m going to make you drop your baton, which will somehow make you fail! R: Never! M: Give me the baton, Montague! You won’t complete Relay4Life! R: Never, mysterious friend of Juliet’s who for some reason is fighting me! J: Go, Romeo! Finish the lap! M: What are you doing, Juliet? J: I don’t care if you tell my parents where I’ve been, Mercutio! Relay4Life is bigger than all of us! It’s like God, if God’s sole purpose in life was to collect spare change from passing kind strangers and give it to the Cancer Council! R: So, not really all that much like God. I mean, that sounds nothing like God. J: Go on, run! I’ll hold him back! M: Get off, Juliet! MERCUTIO and JULIET fight briefly while ROMEO runs slowly on. Suddenly, MERCUTIO pulls the baton out of ROMEO’S hand and cries triumphantly. J: NO! She leaps for the baton. In the process, MERCUTIO accidentally stabs her with it. She crumples to the ground, still clutching the baton to herself dramatically. R: You’ve killed her! He kneels down next to Juliet. MERCUTIO is horrified by what he has done. M: She can’t be dead … I’ve killed her! Man, this is going to make things exceedingly awkward between Stacy and me. I have to go and explain. [He exits] J: Romeo, my dying wish is that you finish this race for the sake of the Cancer Council, and that any passers-by donate to our cause. Both stop and stare at passers-by. Make this an especially accusing stare. She’s on her death bed, people. R: I will, Juliet. J: Also, I want you to fund somebody to write a terrible play ostensibly about our love, but really as a thinly veiled advertisment for Relay4Life. R: Our … love? Juliet, we’ve known each other for two days, I didn’t even know you were remotely interested in – J: Just do it, Romeo. R: Of course. Dramatically, she dies. R: That’s it. I’m going to finish this relay if it’s the last thing I do. For Juliet, the Cancer Council and other affiliated organisations! He picks up the baton from JULIET’S still body and begins to run. Suddenly, MR CAPULET arrives. MR C: Montague! I should have known you’d kill my daughter! R: It wasn’t me, it was the villain Mercutio. MR C: Are you kidding? I love Mercutio. Fine upstanding example of modern youth. Unlike you, on the other hand. Take this, charity boy! He pulls out a gun and shoots ROMEO. If a gun is not readily available – which hopefully it won’t be – a finger-gun will work just as well. Also, it won’t actually kill your actor. Ideally. ROMEO clutches his chest and falls on to his knees. R: No … I have to make it … for Relay4Life! MR MONTAGUE enters. MR M: So here you are, Capulet. MR C: Hello, Stacy. What are you doing here? MR M: I’m not your wife, Capulet. Don’t you recognise me? MR C: Well, yes, I saw you at breakfast this morning … wait, you’re not Stacy! Montague! How dare you pretend to be my wife! MR M: It’s been a long time, Capulet. MR C: It certainly has. MR M: Do you remember when we did Relay4Life together, Edgar? MR C: I certainly do. I mean, I don’t. I never did Relay4Life! I would never fail in that way! MR M: Edgar, you could never see that you didn’t fail. You succeeded. You didn’t raise quite as much money as us, certainly. MR C: How dare you remind me! MR M: But that’s not the point of Relay4Life. Relay4Life is greater than simple amounts of money, of winning competitions or not winning them. It’s about the Cancer Council. And raising money to help them. Any spare change will do; donate what you can, it will make a difference, believe me. And it’s about running around for 24 hours to raise awareness for victims of cancer. That’s what it’s about, Edgar. And you did it. MR C: Montague … you’re right. How could I have been such a fool to prevent my own daughter, now, sadly, deceased, from participating in Relay4Life! There is a power greater than you or me here at work, Michael. And that power is Relay4Life. MR M: So true. Edgar, we have a lot to catch up on. MR C: So we do. They begin to walk off together. MR M: Oh, Edgar, did you kill my son? MR C: Ah … oh, yes, of course. Sorry. That was me. MR M: Oh, well, can’t be helped. He’s died in the name of Relay4Life, that more lives may be saved. They’ll probably write a play about him. [MR CAPULET and MR MONTAGUE exeunt] R: Is this what it’s like to die? And to think, I never finished Relay4Life… Juliet, you’ve died in vain. JULIET sits up suddenly. J: Actually, I don’t think I’m dead. R: Not dead? J: Nope. It was touch and go for a bit there, but I think the fact that I’m sitting up and talking to you kind of proves that I’m still on this mortal coil. R: But how did you survive? You were stabbed by a baton! J: Romeo, it’s a baton. You can’t be killed by being stabbed with a baton. That would be ludicrous. It’s not even pointy. R: You had me convinced. J: What happened to you? R: Your father shot me. J: Well, that’s well and truly ruined my day. I was all happy from having survived my near-death-experience and then suddenly you’re all ‘Yes, I’m dying, because your father shot me’. Do you ever think of anyone apart from yourself, Romeo? R: Well, excuse me. I’ll just bleed quietly to death over here. J: No, Romeo! [She kneels over his body] I didn’t mean it. R: Juliet, you must finish the race for both of us. For everyone who’s ever completed Relay4Life. For all the passers-by who have ever given us spare change to donate to the Cancer Council. And for the cancer patients themselves. Because Relay4Life is bigger than all of us. Maybe one or two of us will experience hardship along the way, maybe even die. But if we can complete the relay. It will be worth it. J: Really? It would be worth dying so I could finish Relay4Life? I’ve only been doing it for two days, Romeo. I’m not sure you’re quite all right mentally. R: Of course not, you idiot, I’m dying. Now, run, Juliet! Run! And let the power of Relay4Life always be behind you. And not in a creepy way. He falls down dramatically, dead. J: Romeo! I will finish the relay for you. [She lifts the baton from his body and raises it into the air]. And then I will comission a play to be written, all about our tragic tale and the importance of contributing to Relay4Life whenever possible. R: [Lifts his head briefly]. Just completing the race would do. Come on, Juliet, it’s my dying wish, and you’re just standing there. J: I may have risked parental disapproval for this cause. You may have died tragically. R: There’s no ‘may’ about it, I’m going. J: But so long as Relay4Life exists, there is hope for us all. Please give generally. Cast all come out and go around with collecting boxes. It may be necessary to provide tissues for your deeply moved audience, and bring extra containers out to cope with the influx of spare change you’re about to receive. Or it may not. FINIS
RELAY4LIFE: 24 HOURS FROM THE FINISH LINE
Tragedy
of Romeo, Juliet &Relay4Life
A play in 5 acts
By the quite honourable
Leslie M. Harper
Characters
Intended to be played with 4 actors
ACT 1
[He exits]
ACT 2
ROMEO presses a button on his phone and leaves.
ACT 3
J: How can I make that choice? And how do you suddenly seem to know so much about my family?ACT 4
At the MONTAGUE’S house. MR MONTAGUE and MRS MONTAGUE are sitting around – standing, if chairs have not been provided – when ROMEO walks in. MRS MONTAGUE is either knitting or pretending to.
ACT 5
He attempts to run further forward, then falls on to his knees
ROMEO gets up.
MERCUTIO arrives.
MERCUTIO and ROMEO begin to grapple. JULIET looks in in horror
JULIET grabs MERCUTIO and pulls him away from ROMEO.
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Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Relay4Life
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