Monkey Bars and Rubber Ducks (2 page)

A sack of potatoes is what people usually say,’ I said.

‘Shut up, Keener, or we’ll never get to the end,’ said Bee.

I shut up.

‘Anyway, I got him into the armchair and that’s when I noticed all the other things that were wrong.’ (
Oh no!
I thought.
This is where we get the blood and gore.
) ‘There was a brown puddle on the floor with two wet Bourbon biscuits, a broken mug, and the cat’s bowl was turned over and there was cat food everywhere, but no cat.’

‘Was it rabbit poo in a tasty stew?’ asked Fifty. Stupid thing to say considering we were trying to hurry the story up. That’s Fifty for you.

‘Shut up, Fifty. This is serious.’ Bee did the glare.

Fifty did a sorry face. ‘Go on, Copper Pie,’ he said.

‘Anyway, it turns out Big Jim had fallen out of the tree on Saturday. He was filling the bird feeder and he slipped off the chair he was standing on. He went to hospital. It must have been when we were out or Mum would’ve noticed. He’s got a bandage on his arm and he’s broken his ribs. And Carlotta – that’s the cat – had disappeared, cos she was hungry.’ Copper Pie leant right back so that his chair was balanced on two legs. He seemed to have finished. We all looked at each other.

‘So do we need to find the cat? Staple posters to all the lampposts with a photo?’ said Bee. ‘Organise a search party like we did when Doodle was lost.’

I wished she hadn’t said that. I still feel guilty about losing her dog, even though Doodle ended up having a lovely sleepover at the café.

‘No. The cat came back while I was there. Must have heard me open the tin.’ (Quite funny for C. P. – he’s not very witty.) ‘It was turkey and something.’

‘Copper Pie, it’s very sad for Big Jim, but what’s it got to do with you coming out of the alley at lunchtime?’

I was glad Bee had asked. I didn’t want to in case the answer was obvious to everyone else but me. I concentrated on my sausages for a bit.

‘You went to see him, didn’t you?’ said Jonno.

C.P. nodded.
Trust Jonno to work it out,
I thought.

‘Couldn’t you have waited till after school?’ said Fifty.

‘He needed his lunch,’ said Copper Pie.

‘Since when have you been Meals on Wheels?’ Fifty laughed, but Copper Pie didn’t.

‘Since now,’ he said.

None of it was making sense. There are social workers and nurses who look after people who are hurt. Why was Copper Pie doing it? It’s not as though he was qualified. Imagine the advert in the paper:

As if!

‘But why you, Copper Pie?’ said Jonno.’ Doesn’t he have a family?’

‘Nope, no family. But he told the doctors he did. That’s why they let him come home.’

Fifty stepped in. ‘Copper Pie, can you try to tell the story without any gaps? If you say it all at once, rather than in bits, we might understand.’

‘I’m trying, OK!’ Copper Pie swung his chair forwards and the front legs made a loud bang.’ He told the hospital his daughter would look after him, but it was a lie. He doesn’t have a daughter. But he said if they knew he was all on his own they wouldn’t have let him out. They’d have put him in a home.’ The situation was becoming clearer.’ He said, “I’d rather be dead than stuffed in a home with a load of dribbling idiots watching
Antiques Roadshow
and looking around for their dead pets. “‘ A picture of an old lady stroking a stuffed cat with a sticking-up tail and glass eyes popped into my head.

‘So
you’re
looking after him?’ said Bee, sounding as though it was close to being the worst thing in the world.

‘Don’t look at me like that. What else was I meant to do? One arm doesn’t work so he can’t make any food. And it hurts him to bend down so he can’t feed the cat. He can’t even open a tin. The half a tin that was left in the fridge ended up on the floor cos it hurt so much when he tried to bend over.’

‘Why didn’t you ask your mum to help?’ said Fifty. (Fifty’s mum would be in there like a shot, making healthy food and preparing him herbal tea while she did a bit of reflexology on his big toe to make him relax. She’s good at looking after people. Copper Pie’s mum wouldn’t be quite so good but I’m sure she’d at least give him a jam sandwich and a beaker of squash, like she does with the nursery kids.)

‘I wanted to, but Big Jim said my mum would feel she had to call social services, and they’d take him away. I can’t tell anyone.’

‘Except us,’ said Jonno.

‘But what can we do?’ said Bee. ‘I mean, Callum’s already clocked you. It’s only a matter of time before he catches you if you go every day and then the Head’ll have the perfect excuse to get rid of you.’

Copper Pie shrugged, picked up his fork and ate his sausages, whole. We did the same, except we cut them up and chewed.

What a mess,
I thought.
But at least it’s nothing to do with me.

‘There’s only one thing for it,’ said Jonno.’ Tribe’ll have to help out. If Callum’s going to be spying on Copper Pie, let him. One of us can go and feed Big Jim and his cat instead.’

No way,
I thought. Being a Triber was the best thing in my life but that didn’t mean I’d agree to being a truant. Nope, not me.

It was Tuesday afternoon, which means science and then D. T. We did photosynthesis in science. It’s completely straightforward but there are always stupid questions, usually from Alice. And if not, Jamie (Callum’s sidekick). This week it was both.

Alice’s hand went up first. ‘Miss Walsh, do plants eat three meals a day, like we do, or all the time?’

She doesn’t really think plants eat three times a day. She says things like that for attention. I immediately changed my mind about being nicer to her for being on Copper Pie’s side in the lunch queue.

Jamie’s question was slightly more sensible: ‘What does the plant do if there isn’t no sun?’ But he shouted out instead of putting his hand up so we all had to listen to our teacher explaining the rules, again!

And then she said, ‘Does anyone want to tell Jamie the answer?’

I knew it, but I didn’t want to say so. I’m already called Keener, I don’t need to make it more obvious by being even keener – if you get me.

Jonno did his version of putting his hand up, which makes him look like he’s bidding in an auction. One finger goes up for a second and that’s it.

‘Plants store some energy to use when there isn’t enough sunshine.’

‘That’s right. Well done, Jonno.’

Miss Walsh put Jonno’s name on the board in the column with the smiley face at the top, under Bee’s. (She was up there because she did a mime in P. E. of trying to walk a disobedient dog. Miss Walsh said it was good, but as Bee’s dog
is
a disobedient dog it wasn’t that hard.) No one was in the sad-face column. Yet.

On the way to D.T. Callum caught up with us.

‘So, are you bunking off again tomorrow, Copper Pie?’ said his voice from right behind us. ‘Off to the arcade?’

So, Callum thought Copper Pie had left school to play on the slot machines. I turned to look at him. So did the others, all except Copper Pie. He kicked his leg out backwards, really hard, and got Callum on the kneecap with the back of his black Adidas trainer. (He’s picky about his trainers.) It made a clunk on impact.

‘Sorry, Hog! Didn’t see you there.’

I hate it when there’s fighting. There’s always a chance someone might hurt me.

Callum bent over and his blond hair flopped over his face. I think he might have been hiding watery eyes. After a bit, he wiped his face and looked up.

‘I know, you’re up to something. I’m watching you, Ginger.’ He swivelled to include the rest of the Tribers. ‘I’m watching
all
of you.’

‘Let us know if we drop anything,’ said Jonno.

Callum sneered at Jonno and walked off.

‘Well, that’s great,’ said Fifty. ‘We’re planning on bunking off and Callum’s planning on spying. Excellent!’

We all shut up.

In D.T.I couldn’t concentrate. We were going to get caught, I knew it. How could one of us go and help Big Jim every lunchtime with Callum sniffing around?

I was meant to be making a gas mask holder, part of the evacuee stuff in history, but it was going nowhere. I usually like D. T. , but all I wanted to do was figure out a way to help Big Jim without having to leave the school grounds in the middle of the day. Bunking off was a crazy idea. Tribes are meant to stick together, hunt as a pack. Splitting up would leave us open to predators like Callum and Jamie, or worse, teachers. We needed to learn from the Three Musketeers, ‘all for one and one for all’. They didn’t all go off in different directions and hope for the best. (At least I don’t think they did.)

After the bell, Jonno and Bee went off to meet Bee’s mum. Doodle had an appointment at the vet’s. Why Jonno was going too, I don’t know. (I know Jonno likes Doodle, but he likes me too and he doesn’t come to the doctor’s with me.) Copper Pie ran off saying he promised to get Big Jim some grapefruits – he says he likes them for breakfast. So that left me and Fifty to walk home together.

I waited for him to say something about the bunking off plan. I knew he would. He gets as worried as I do about trouble, but when we’re all together he relies on me to be the one to say it out loud. When it’s just the two of us he’s a lot wimpier.

‘I don’t think Jonno’s idea makes sense. We can’t look after an old man. We’re kids. I mean, what if something happened to him? It would be our fault.’ That’s what he said. What he meant was that he was scared stupid about bunking off.

‘I think we should tell someone,’ I said. What I meant was I was scared stupid about bunking off too. It’s helpful if you can read your friend’s thoughts.

‘Same,’ said Fifty.

I felt a whole lot better after that. We kicked a stone most of the way to Craven Road. We might have got it all the way to Fifty’s road but I took my eye off it when Marco appeared from nowhere and nearly ran us down.

‘Hey, Keener! Hey, Fifty!’ he shouted as he raced past. I recognise the sound of his mountain board wheels now, but I still can’t react in time. Marco’s OK. I wasn’t sure about him when he first came to our school because he was always shouting in Portuguese. He shouts in English now, which is way better.

Just before the corner where we go in different directions Fifty said, ‘So who do you think we should tell?’ I’d been thinking about that.

‘No idea,’ I said.

‘Same,’ said Fifty.

‘But it’s not up to us anyway,’ I said. ‘Tribe can decide.’

‘Same.’ If I had one wish I’d make it impossible for Fifty’s mouth to say ‘same’. (No I wouldn’t. It’d be a waste.)

‘See you tomorrow, then,’ I said. In my head it all seemed sorted. The Tribers would realise we couldn’t sneak off with Callum (and probably Jamie too) watching our every move. They’d agree we’d have to tell someone. Between us, we’d think of someone we could trust to look after Big Jim,
and
not tell the old-people snatchers.

I couldn’t think of anyone but that didn’t worry me. There had to be someone.

I like Wednesdays because we have the weekly Tribe meeting at six o’clock (that’s after tea for me but before tea for Jonno because his family eat at, like, bedtime). The Tribehouse we built at the bottom of Fifty’s garden is looking really good. We get into the garden through the cat flap Fifty’s dad made for us in the fence – saves going through the house. We’ve got a shelf and a bench as well as the safe, which doubles as Fifty’s seat. There’s a photo of us all in our wetsuits drawing-pinned to the wall and a sign saying
Tribehouse
that Flo made because she felt guilty about all the fuss she made over Jack’s lost medals. (I can’t be bothered to explain. It’s all over now.)

I feel like I’ve been a Triber forever, but it was only when Jonno joined at the beginning of the summer term that it all happened. Before that we were just mates – me, Bee, Copper Pie and Fifty. Now we’ve got our rituals: fist of friendship and Tribe handshake, our rules – can’t leave and can’t join, and a safe full of Tribe stuff, like our Fact Files. And we’ve even got fans. There are loads of kids that would like to be a Triber. Even my dad wants to join! Tribe is ace.

But this Wednesday didn’t start very well at all. By the time Fifty and I got to school the others were already huddled together on our patch by the netball courts. And as we got nearer I heard Bee’s voice.

‘Let’s wait for the others to get here and then we’ll decide whose turn it is today.’

No, no, no,
I thought.
Fifty and me have decided we need to tell someone about Big Jim. The plan’s
changed. Sometimes it seems like the others can read my thoughts, but they obviously couldn’t this time . . .