Now there were several ways to spend a regular school teaching period in the library at Grammar. One way was to be instructed to go there by any subject master who considered your disruptive behaviour in the class to warrant such a directive. Shellshear and I always found it most convenient to sit by the door with our bags packed at the start of every German lesson. The German master would enter the room with the words: Goot mornings boyz followed immediately by Shelshear and Baskerville libuaryz pleaze. As you can imagine the librarian, fittingly named Wilber, became a sort of defaulting custodian and guardian to us library regulars. Unfortunately, his lack of street smarts and direct authority made him an easy target for the wit and cunning mindset of my little school brother. Well this particular day we had decided to sit in the open plan of the library right beside a double bank of glass windows. On those hot Brisbane days it was necessary to have all library windows open to ensure good cooling flow through ventilation. At the table where Shellshear sat, only the bottom window was open, when Wilber approached in another attempt to win at least one round in their battle of the will. Shellshear open the window Shellshear didn’t hear the instruction (if you know what I mean), causing me to tilt my head as far forward into my chest as it could go to try and hide my contoured smile. SHELLSHEAR OPEN THE WINDOW was the follow up reaction. Shellshear heard it this time as did the rest of the boys who were studiously attending to their reading that day in the library. Shellshears head lifted, he looked up at Wilbers serious face, then looked down and to the side at the OPEN window and calmly went back to reading his Guinness Book of Records with an ever so slight shake of the head. SHELLSHEAR OPEN THE WINDOW – This time the boys playing outside stopped their ball game and became fascinated spectators to the evolving standoff. In my peripheral vision I could see Wilber’s brown pants tied up tight and high over his hips by a black belt with its long end just hanging down limp at the front. His fists were clenched as they drove like tightened clamps into his side. His nicely pressed white short sleeve cotton shirt was becoming increasingly wrinkled with his now grinding rage. Finally, Shellshear responded he lifted his head, he looked up at Wilber’s serious face, he looked down to the side at the OPEN window and promptly CLOSED the window – then he calmly went back to his book with an ever so slight shrug of the shoulders. I could not hear what Wilber muttered under his breath, as he stormed away in defeat, because of the spontaneous laughter that resounded from those ring side seats, as Shellshear took out the title – 10 nil.
