Teamwork

TEAMWORK

“Sam, can you please clear the lounge; it looks like a bomb has hit it.”

Mum’s pale voice carried her frustration and tiredness, and I would have been wise to have done as I was asked without complaint. But I couldn’t resist.

“Sure, Mum, but Lisa made all the mess. Shouldn’t she clear it up?”

“Please don’t argue, Sam.” I stuck my head in the laundry; Mum’s disappointment reflected in her weary face and slumped back as she tried to cope with the huge load of dirty washing.

Dad had a filthy job, crawling through boilers to clean the muck out of the working parts. It paid poorly, but was the only work he could find, and his clothes were always filthy and oil stained. Mum carried the burden of the home, cooking, cleaning, budgeting savagely and keeping the family together but away from each other’s throats. These responsibilities weighed heavily on her.

I understood the load that Mum had to carry and tried to help wherever I could, but my fourteen year old sister, Lisa, had no such conscience. For her it was Lisa first second and last, and Mum was coming to the end of her patience trying to get her to co-operate. Dad was always too tired to weigh into the family arguments, and, to my mind, Lisa got away with murder.

“Okay, Mum, I’ll get straight onto it, but I’m going to give Lisa a piece of my mind—if I can spare it.” and grinned to myself when I heard Mum’s gentle laugh. Even so, she told me not to be too hard on Lisa and cut her some slack. To my biased mind, she had already been cut far too much.

I cleared all the junk out of the lounge, and dropped a fair part of it in the middle of Lisa’s bed, it being her stuff anyway. I knew this would cause an angry response from my sister, but I hardly cared any more. I could deal with her reaction to me, but her cavalier attitude to our family got under my skin.

We had to struggle hard enough as it was, without her selfishness making it more difficult. Even so, Mum always played the peacemaker, trying to prevent Lisa and me from hammering at each other; she was only partially successful, and I knew doing so took a toll on Mum.

The resounding slam of the front door announced Lisa’s return from school, followed by the expected thump as she threw her bag into the hallway.

“What’s to eat?” she demanded, slouching into the kitchen, followed by a sullen grunt as Mum told her, “You’ll just have to wait until tea, Lisa, I don’t have time to feed you right now.”

“What are you smirking at?” she demanded as she caught sight of me.

“Lisa, the world doesn’t revolve around you. And on that subject, how about you making a contribution to the family and do your own chores. I’m fed up with picking up after you.”

Her sarcasm was deep and bitter, “You appear to be under the impression that you’re talking to someone who gives a damn.” And she stalked away to the sanctuary of her room, which by now resembled something a rather uncouth pig might have occupied.

Her shriek of anger at the pile of junk in the middle of the bed made me realise I’d pushed a button. She stormed out again to confront me, but as she started, I had a ready-made response. “To quote an expression that seems to be all the rage just now, ‘You appear to be under the impression that you’re talking to someone who gives a damn.’ “ And this time, I stalked away.

Lisa and I continued in a state of uneasy truce for a few days until I overheard a conversation between her and Mum. While not actively eavesdropping, I couldn’t help but hear what was being said.

“Lisa, your report card just isn’t good enough. You’re failing maths, which is likely to jeopardise your future chances. You need to pull your socks up; I know you’re capable of at least “B”s in maths.”

“Look, Mum, I’m doing my best, so just stay off my back.”

“Not good enough, Lisa. We’ve been down this path before, and you’ve shown no intention of improving. I’ve warned you several times, now you’ll have to take the consequences. I’m not prepared to pay for any more keyboard lessons until you get your maths grades up.”

“But Mum, please …”

“No, Lisa, no arguments.” At which, Mum turned her back on Lisa and walked out of the room.

When I walked into the room I became an immediate target for Lisa’s anger and frustration.

“This is all your doing. I know you’re jealous that I get the keyboard lessons and you don’t. So now you’ve persuaded Mum to stop them. I hope you’re satisfied.”

I knew that Mum had scrimped and scraped to pay for Lisa’s music tuition. I also knew that Lisa had a genuine talent and I acknowledged that I didn’t. I was secretly very proud of my sister and maybe I hadn’t let her know how I really felt. I certainly wasn’t jealous of any tuition she received, and now was the time to tell her.

“Lisa, let’s get the facts straight. Whether you believe me or not, I’m not in the slightest bit jealous about your keyboard lessons. Again, believe it or not, I think you have a very real talent, and you need to develop it. But if you continue to be difficult with Mum, she’s going to respond out of her own frustration.

You know, or you damn well ought to, how much she has sacrificed to make sure you get the training you need. The least you can do is to show willing in the one area she‘s trying to encourage you and keep your academic standards up to scratch. I know you’re not stupid; I know you have the ability.”

“Just because you’re my older brother doesn’t mean you can patronise me.”

“I’m not, Lisa, but I am willing to make a deal with you.”

“Yeah, right, what can you offer me that I need in any way whatsoever?”

“Okay, little sister. This is a once only deal, take it or leave it right now. If you’re prepared to do your own chores, and heaven knows, they’re not excessive, and show a little more respect for Mum, I’m prepared to coach you in maths. If you’re half as smart as I think you are, you should be able to reach at least a “B” standard without too much trouble. But you’ll have to work at it.”

A flurry of emotions flooded across her face. On the one hand, she didn’t want to let go of what she saw as an ability to lord it over other members of the family. On the other, I had touched a nerve; here was an opportunity to get back in Mum’s good books and resume her lessons, something she was truly passionate about. She just had to accept her brother’s willingness to help, something she probably imagined had never happened before.

“No tricks, Sam? No pulling out once I’m committed? No trying to influence Mum against me by white-anting my efforts? No …”

I interrupted her tirade. “No, nothing even remotely provocative, Lisa; it’s a genuine offer to help you. In return, you’ve got to help me by doing your chores, which always seem to fall back to me when you don’t do them, and help yourself by mending your relationship with Mum.”

She stared at me, and it was almost as if I could hear her mind working. Eventually she reached a decision; “Okay,” she said, rather hesitantly, I thought.

“Good. We start today, so I suggest you grab your books and meet me back here in ten minutes. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

Her face fell. “But I’m going over to Julie’s place and …”

“This is your first test, Lisa; gossiping with Julie or maths, Mum and back on the keyboard. Your choice.”

“Gee, you’re mean.” But with a big, rather forced sigh, she left the room and returned a little later with a collection of text and exercise books.

I smiled to myself. Lisa was going to wriggle and squirm and try to sweet talk her way out of the deal with a whole bunch of excuses. But she had to know there was no real way out, as she also undoubtedly knew the reality of the rewards.

Over time, Lisa got her grades up again, and although we were never going to be best friends (we were such different people), we both developed an increased respect for each other. And Mum was happy which, to me, was a big bonus.

Then something a little unexpected happened. The whole family used to join together for Sunday lunches, although conversation tended to be unremarkable. Dad tended to take little part in the discussions around the table other than to answer direct questions. On this occasion, however, he turned to Lisa and said, “Congratulations, Lisa, Mum told me you got an “A-“ for maths. Well done.” He then turned to me and said, “Thank you, son, thank you for supporting Lisa and your Mum. I’m proud of you. You see, we are a family team after all.”


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