The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 4) (7 page)

The winning and losing team lined up beside one another. The losers were each given a bouquet of flowers, the winners a nine-carat gold medal. Ernest’s chest swelled with pride. He let himself feel it press against his chest as Klaus Farber placed it on over his head. Ernest spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Tanja.

“What made you choose Culture?” he said.

“I could have chosen History and still get it wrong,” Tanja said. “I’d rather lose on my own terms. Winning isn’t everything.”

“But we did win,” Ernest said.

“But what’s the point if we don’t learn anything from the experience?” Tanja said. “Now, gaining experience and wisdom. That’s the real prize. This is just an empty ritual of intelligence, showing each other how smart we are because we know some useless piece of information.”

“It’s not useless,” Ernest said. “It helped us win.”

“Win for what?” Tanja said.

Tanja held her medal between her thumb and forefinger.

“For this?” she said. “Why does this competition mean so much to you?”

“Previous winners have gone on to study at top universities,” Ernest said.

“You don’t think you’ll end up going there anyway?” Tanja said.

“I don’t like to leave things up to chance,” Ernest said.

“You’re a smart, hardworking guy,” Tanja said. “I’m sure you could get into any university you wanted.”

“Life isn’t fair, unfortunately,” Ernest said. “It takes more than just hard work to get something you want.”

“You need luck,” Tanja said.

Ernest smiled.

“Exactly,” he said. “Just a little. Speaking of which, how did you know what a traditional hut in the Philippines was called?”

“Because I’ve slept in one,” Tanja said. “I’ve seen the world and experienced things. It’s much easier to learn things that way. It’s easy to get lost in your own little world. Look at Mr Kappel. He’s made this competition his life. But there’s a big world out there. We can’t just let our self-interest rule us, blinding us from seeing the bigger picture. People can work in miserable high-level positions, earn lots of money. But you know what? I’d rather be happy.”

“Will the winners please take a bow?” Farber said.

Ernest took Tanja’s hand and they bowed. The audience were on their feet, clapping with energy – none louder than the Robinsons.

Tanja released Ernest’s hand and crossed to the losing team. She shook the hand of each of them. Then she took one of the competitors aside – a girl who had been quietly sobbing to herself. They spoke in hushed whispers.

Ernest looked at the ceremony taking place: the tiny cheap pieces of coloured paper on the floor, a wayward nail sticking out of a podium, the self-aggrandising smirk on Mr Kappel’s face.

Why was it someone always managed to ruin a special event?

Bill signalled and pulled the car onto the road. There was silence from the other seats, everyone looking out their window, not really seeing the world as it flittered past.

“Everyone looks deep in thought tonight,” Bill said.

No one replied.

“Ernest, congratulations on the win,” Bill said.

“Thanks,” Ernest said, eyes on the world outside.

“Cheer up!” Bill said. “You won!”

“I know,” Ernest said, and then affixed a fake smile to his face.

“Then why aren’t you on top of the world right now?” Bill said.

“Because I’ve learnt nothing from this experience, except a headful of useless trivia I know I’ll never use again,” Ernest said.

“Then it’s not useless,” Bill said.

“There’s a girl on our team,” Ernest said. “She knows less than me, has a lower IQ, worse test scores… Yet she knows more than I do. How is that possible?”

Bill smiled.

“That’s only just dawned on you?” he said, chuckling. “Ernest, let me give you a priceless piece of information you’ll never learn in any of your textbooks: Women will always know more than you, no matter how smart or bright you are. They know it, and the sooner you know it, the easier life you’re going to have. Anything you’re thinking about saying they’ve already thought of, and anything you intend on doing they know too.”

Bill paused, a big grin on his face, waiting for a response from the others. None came.

“Well, I had an interesting conversation today,” he said. “Would anyone like to hear about it?”

No one replied.

“I suppose not,” Bill said. “Liz, how was your day?”

“Mm?” Liz said, a million miles away.

“I said, how was your day?” Bill said.

“Oh, you know,” Liz said. “The same as usual.”

Bill frowned.

“Fritz?” he said. “Fancy kicking a ball around for a while when we get home?”

“No, not tonight, Pa,” Fritz said.

“Jack?” Bill said.

“No, thanks,” Jack said.

“Francis?” Bill said.

Francis was fast asleep.

“What’s wrong with everyone today?” Bill said. “It’s a lovely night. Let’s do something! How about if I drive out of the valley and we do a short midnight hike? The moon’s bright, we’ll follow the stars!”

No one answered. Bill pressed his lips together. He turned on the radio.

“…Meanwhile there are concerns about containment,” the newsreader said. “The world’s leaders are convening this weekend to discuss ways to control it. But according to renowned biologist Max Stafford we may already be too late to take action-”

Bill turned the radio off.

“Nothing but good news, as usual,” he said, grumbling.

He pulled onto the driveway. Everyone got out and filed into the house. Bill stopped at the door on his way in, sighed, and then followed his family inside.

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Liz said.

The boys ran upstairs. Liz and Bill prepared dinner. Bill made a salad while Liz added the remains of the previous day’s meal to a large frying pan. Liz had a distant expression on her face.

“Anything interesting happen today?” Bill said.

“Just Angel,” Liz said. “You know what she’s like.”

“She’s here?” Bill said. “What does she want?”

“Just to brag, as always,” Liz said.

The food sizzled noisily and wasn’t conducive to conversation. Liz moved to the bottom of the stairs and shouted up.

“Boys!” she said. “Dinner’s done!”

The boys came down and sat down for dinner, digging in, eating like they hadn’t eaten in a week. Fritz looked up at Liz.

“Mum, you’re a woman,” he said.

“Thanks for noticing,” Liz said.

“How do women think?” Fritz said.

The question took Liz aback.

“Err, well, like everyone else, I suppose,” she said.

Fritz shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

“How do they think, then?” Liz said.

“That’s my question to you,” Fritz said.

“We’re human,” Liz said. “Just like men. I suppose we think mostly the same way.”

“But you don’t, do you?” Fritz said. “I mean, there’s no rhyme or reason or logic to the way you think sometimes.”

“To you, perhaps,” Liz said. “But to women those decisions are perfectly logical. Give me an example situation.”

“If you were given the choice between a chocolate gateaux and a fairy cake, what would you choose?” Fritz said.

“The gateaux,” Liz said.

“But not everyone would,” Fritz said.

“No,” Liz said.

“Why not?” Fritz said.

“Not everyone likes chocolate gateaux,” Liz said.

Fritz sank back into his seat, deep in thought.

“But maybe she could be convinced she likes this particular chocolate gateaux, if you show her how delicious it is compared to others she’s had over the years,” Fritz said.

“I’m getting very confused by this analogy,” Liz said.

“Dad,” Jack said, “how does a man live without a purpose?”

“These are some mighty deep questions we’re getting tonight,” Bill said. “A man doesn’t live without a purpose, Jack. He needs something to focus on, to drive him, keep him going. Why?”

“Women too,” Liz said.

“Conceded,” Bill said.

“Just wondering,” Jack said, looking out the window toward the church spire.

Bill took a deep breath.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you all about,” he said. “Our purpose here on this earth. Some people travel the world and see all sorts of interesting cultures and try all sorts of different types of food. Some things I never even knew people ate.”

But no one seemed to be paying any attention to him.

“Like a bull’s testicles,” he said. “And ostrich penises. I can’t imagine it tastes very good, but then I’m not much of a connoisseur on the subject.”

Still no reply.

“What’s wrong with you all tonight?” he said, slamming his fork down on the table, making them all jump. “I just handed you a perfectly good morsel to ridicule and I get nothing.”

“I heard you,” Ernest said. “But so what? Lots of people have travelled the world. The earth’s getting smaller every day. Type ‘ostrich penis’ into a search engine and you’ll get hundreds of videos of people eating it.”

“I’m not talking about watching it,” Bill said. “I’m talking about trying it ourselves.”

“You want to eat an ostrich’s penis?” Liz said.

“What?” Bill said. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean… There are things out there we have never experienced before. Wouldn’t you like to try something new?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever discussed eating an ostrich’s penis before,” Liz said. “That’s new to me. Does that count?”

“How would you all feel about moving somewhere far across the world?” Bill said.

The whole family looked up.

“What?” Fritz said. He turned to Liz. “Is this something you’ve talked about and decided without consulting us?”

“No,” Liz said. “This is the first I’m hearing it too.” She turned to Bill. “What are you talking about, Bill? Did something happen today?”

“No, nothing happened,” Bill said. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“About a new life,” Liz said.

“About a new life for all of us,” Bill said.

“I don’t want a new life,” Fritz said. “You can keep your ostrich bits. I have my life here. My friends.”

“Ernest?” Bill said.

“I have my school, my studies,” Ernest said.

“They’ll have schools over there,” Bill said.

“They won’t be the same,” Ernest said.

“That’s the whole point,” Bill said.

“No,” Ernest said, folding his arms.

Bill turned to Francis.

“Francis?” he said. “Would you like to go see some wild monkeys? Some giraffes and rhinos?”

“Don’t try to blackmail him,” Liz said.

“I’m not,” Bill said. “I’m just trying to tell him about all the wonders out there to be seen. Liz?”

Liz thought for a moment.

“I admit, a trip does sound good right about now,” she said. “But only a trip. I’m not so sure I would want to move all the way to the far side of the world.”

“But that’s where all the most radical differences are!” Bill said. “Come on, you guys. A big adventure. It’d be fun!”

Bill’s eyes were alive with energy.

“Where would we go, exactly?” Liz said.

“Anywhere,” Bill said. “I don’t care. We have some money. We can go travelling for a while.”

“How long would that last us?”

Bill frowned.

“Then I’ll find a job abroad,” he said. “We’ll sell everything we have and go on an adventure.”

Liz blinked and held up her hands.

“This is coming out of the blue, Bill,” she said. “We’d need to think about it, all of us. Do we really want to leave everything we know and love behind?”

“What do we love that’s here besides each other?” Bill said. “I love my country but sometimes you need a break, try something new, something fresh. I’m not saying we need to make a decision right now, only that we’ll consider it. Can you all promise me that you’ll at least think about it? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

The boys shrugged. Liz glared.

Liz wore a long nightgown and rubbed cream on her hands, neck and face. Bill lay in bed watching her.

“You’re very quiet tonight,” he said.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Liz said. “You know, I just wish you’d have mentioned this to me before, instead of just blurting it out like that. I’m not sure if it’s the best thing to take the kids away from civilisation.”

“It’d only be for a year or two,” Bill said. “They’d learn a lot from the experience. I would never go without you and the boys. If you say we won’t go then we won’t go.”

“It’s not up to me,” Liz said. “It’s up to all of us.”

“You’re right,” Bill said.

Liz stopped wiping her face with a cotton bud, tossing it on the table.

“Are you unhappy with your life, Bill?” Liz said. “Are you unfulfilled in some way?”

“I’m not saying I’m not happy with my life,” Bill said. “I am. I just… I mean…”

Bill sighed.

“Don’t you ever think that maybe you could do more with your life?” he said. “Not change the world or free a nation or be a hero, but… something different?”

Liz folded her arms.

“Yes,” she said. “At times. I wonder what if we hadn’t had the kids so young, what if we’d moved away, travelled the world a little. But then I think about all the things we have here, how lucky we are. There are people a lot worse off than us, you know.”

“I know,” Bill said. “And I’m really trying not to be selfish. I wish I could give you and the kids more.”

“You give us plenty,” Liz said. “And the boys have university to look forward to. Marriage. Their own kids. When we got married I never expected private jet planes or multiple houses around the world.”

“I know,” Bill said.

“What brought this on anyway?” Liz said.

Bill shrugged.

“I was just thinking it would be nice,” he said.

“But something must have made you start thinking about it today,” Liz said. “You had a bad day at work?”

“No, no,” Bill said. “Nothing like that.”

“Then what?” Liz said.

Bill pursed his lips, hedging.

“I saw a woman today,” he said.

“Is that an unusual occurrence?” Liz said. “We do make up half the population. You ought to see us sometimes.”

“No, not like that,” Bill said. “She’s not a patient. There’s a woman I see every day on the way to work in the mornings. Every day I just see her and carry on reading my newspaper. She looks like a traveller, like she’s done a thing or two in her life. And then today I decided to talk to her.”

A shadow of concern crossed Liz’s face.

“We got chatting,” Bill went on, “and do you know what I found out? She wasn’t a traveller. She hasn’t seen the world or experienced new things. She’s rarely even left the valley. And I felt sorry for her. Because she’ll never see anything beyond what she sees with her own two eyes. It made me think about my own life, about the things I want to do with you and the kids before I die.”

“You were always the settled down type,” Liz said. “The one to never take risks.”

“I wasn’t like that before we got married,” Bill said. “Do you remember? We would jump on the back of my old bike, death trap that it was, and go driving, letting the road take us wherever it wanted.”

“You can’t do that with four children, Bill,” Liz said.

“Why not?” Bill said. “Why can’t we go to another country and have an adventure? It’ll do the kids some good to see another culture, another world. It doesn’t have to be forever, just a year or two, or longer if we wanted. We could return home anytime.”

“What about our friends and family?” Liz said.

“They’ll be here when we get back,” Bill said.

“What if something happens and they get ill?” Liz said.

“Then we’ll come back,” Bill said.

“What if it happens the instant we leave and we have to come straight back again?” Liz said. “Neither of our mothers are spring chickens, you know.”

“Then just one of us will come back,” Bill said.

“One of us?” Liz said.

Bill hung his shoulders.

“We can come up with excuses not to go all day,” he said. “But really there’s nothing stopping us except ourselves. Do you remember when we got married? We said every day was going to be an adventure, that we would live every moment like it was our last… Now we’ve gotten stuck in a rut, a routine. Nothing feels new or different anymore.”

“There are easier ways to try something new,” Liz said. “We don’t have to travel halfway around the world. We all have our own lives now. It’s not easy to just uproot them.”

Bill sighed.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe it’s too late and it’s a silly idea.”

Liz climbed into bed and kissed Bill on the forehead.

“Let’s get a good night’s sleep and think about this more in the morning, okay?” she said.

“All right,” Bill said.

Liz leaned over and turned out the light. Bill lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling.