1

A Real Job

'Rosie!' Marly called to her cousin as she stuck her head into the garage. 'Jackie and I are pirates, and we need you to be the lady with treasures that we rob. We've made a boat out of the old cardboard fridge box Dad was going to chuck out. Come see!'

'I can't, Marly,' said Rosie, picking up a shirt from the big pile next to her. 'I'm working.'

'What do you mean, you're working? You're twelve! You don't have to work.' Marly walked inside, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The garage was not used for their car, but for Marly's mum's sewing business. Her mum and aunty sat at their sewing machines on trestle tables, sewing shirt after shirt under the dim strip light. Rosie stood by the door, busily ironing.

'She's helping us iron the shirts,' said Marly's mum from the far corner. 'Unlike you, always mucking about all the time. And she's earning money.'

Marly swung round to face her mum. 'What? ' Earning her own money was something Marly was definitely interested in.

'That's right. For every shirt she irons, she gets paid fifty cents,' Marly's mum continued.

'Ten shirts, five dollars,' smiled Rosie.

Marly watched Rosie run the iron across a shirt sleeve. It doesn't look that difficult, Marly thought. I could do that!

'I want to iron shirts, too!' Marly said. 'How come you never let me do stuff like that?'

'Because you're too easily distracted, that's why,' her mum scolded. 'Do you think we'd let you hold a hot iron to a shirt that your aunty and I have spent three hours making?'

'No fair!' protested Marly. 'You never let me do anything.'

Marly slouched against the wall. She felt so annoyed! Annoyed at her mum for letting Rosie do something and not her. And annoyed at Rosie for being so smug and grown-up. Her slouch seemed to work, as Aunty Tam suggested that they let her iron the interfacing onto the shirt collars.

'Those are pretty easy to do,' said Aunty Tam.

Marly stood up straight, willing her mum to say yes so she could earn some money of her own. But Marly's mother was still sceptical. 'What if she burns one?'

'Far better than sewing a whole new shirt,' said Aunty Tam. 'It's just a collar.'

'So, how much do I get paid for each collar?' Marly asked quickly, before they could change their minds.

'Aiyoh,' her mum yelled. 'Consider yourself lucky we're giving you this experience! Will you listen to her – talking about making a buck already, and not even grown up yet!'

Aunty Tam just laughed. 'Come on, if we're going to pay Rosie, we'd better pay Marly as well. I like this enterprising girl. And besides, we need all the help we can get, with you feeling so tired all the time now.'

Marly looked at her mum. It was true, she realised. Her mother did seem to be tired – and grumpy – these days. Sometimes, she would even take a little nap in the middle of work, which wasn't like her at all.

'Fine then,' sighed Marly's mother. 'We'll pay you ten cents a collar. And don't you dare complain! Your cousin's ironing is much more difficult than yours. All you have to do is run a hot iron on this strip of interfacing so that it sticks to the inside of the shirt collar.'

'Hooray!' shouted Marly. She picked up a shirt collar from a cardboard box on the floor. She couldn't wait to begin.

'Just have some patience, will you?' scolded her mum, 'At least wait until Rosie's finished with the iron!'

'Okay.' Marly dropped the collar and moonwalked backwards out of the garage. Moonwalking was a new dance move Marly had been practising, from watching Michael Jackson perform on Countdown. Marly loved Michael Jackson. She loved how he wore only one glove with sequins on it, glitter socks and a black hat – the sort of person who didn't care what anyone thought. And she loved that he didn't seem able to stop moving. Just like her.

'Look at her,' Marly heard her mum mutter to her aunt. 'Always dancing about like a monkey, and acting like a boy. She's not like your Rosie. My Marly can't even sit still for half an hour.'

'She just has a lot of energy, that's all,' said Aunty Tam.

Marly sighed. Her mum was always telling her off for fidgeting and not sitting still. I'll show them, she decided. I'll show them that I can do just as good a job as Rosie, if not better!

'I've got a job,' Marly told her classmates the next day at school as they hung their backpacks on the bag hooks before class.

'Oh yeah?' said Kane. 'Doing what?' Kane was the class busybody. He liked getting involved in other people's business.

'I iron collars for my mum.'

'That's just housework for your mum,' said Kane in a mean voice. 'That's not a real job.'

Marly felt proud that she was earning her own cash, rather than being given pocket money like the other kids were. She felt cross with that idiot Kane for trying to ruin it for her.

'No, Kane, you der-brain. The sort of shirts you buy in the shops. My mum makes them. And I get ten cents for every collar I iron.' She noticed that everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen to them.

'Then you're stupid. That's not even worth it,' said Kane.

'Do the maths, Kane, you moron. I can iron one hundred collars over the weekend, easy.' Marly watched as her classmates worked it out.

'Woah,' breathed Kane. 'That's ten dollars. What are you going to do with that much money?'

Marly knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to get as many packs of Donkey Kong cards as her money could buy. These were no ordinary cards, like those lame swap cards of puppies and fluffy kittens that girls would trade in the playground. No, these cards were like a miniature version of the Donkey Kong video game.

Marly had never actually played Donkey Kong, but she'd seen the older kids crowded around the amusement arcades playing it. Her classmates were obsessed with the cards, which had a maze of ladders and ramps printed on them, with silver scratch-off dots. Scratch off the wrong dots, and it was Game Over. But scratch off the right dots, and you would help Mario climb through the maze to rescue his girlfriend from the love-struck gorilla, Donkey Kong.

At recess and lunchtime, Marly's classmates challenged each other to Donkey Kong duels, scratching away at their cards with their fingernails. The winner won the stick of pink bubblegum that came in the card pack. Once a card was played, it was no use anymore, and the scratched cards were dropped all over the schoolyard. That's when the sticker cards would come out for trading. There were three in each pack, and Marly couldn't wait to have her own set to swap.

Ever since her cousins had left the school last term, Marly had felt very lonely. What Marly wanted, more than anything, was to be included in something that the other kids were into. And right now, that was helping Mario rescue his girlfriend from a crazed gorilla.

'I'm going to get the whole set of Donkey Kong sticker cards,' Marly announced. She wanted to make sure at least some of the kids brought their cards to school on Monday, so she could swap with them if she got doubles, and duel with them if they still had new scratch cards.

Marly knew her parents would never get her the cards. Her mum said they were a waste of money. 'Ask your cousin to make you the monkey business cards,' Marly's mother had suggested. 'She's good at drawing.' Her mum would not let Marly buy anything that they could make, and cousin Rosie was great at making everything.

Marly scowled, remembering how annoying her parents could be – they just didn't get it! But the thought of having her own money to spend on anything she liked was exciting – more exciting even than playing pirates with Jackie.