The Boy at the Back of the Class

by Onjali Q. Raúf

  “Do you have a new envelope to put it in? And stamps?” asked Tom anxiously as we got onto the bus.

  “Yup! Mum’s got loads,” I said. “And I’ll mail it by five o’clock from the postbox in front of my apartment.”

  “Don’t forget to write ‘Special Letter’ on the envelope—in purple pen,” said Josie. “Purple’s her favorite color!”

  “And make sure the stamp says ‘First’ on it!” said Michael.

  * * *

  When I got home that afternoon, while Mrs. Abbey was making me fish sticks for my snack, I quietly pulled open the big top drawer in the large chest standing in our living room. This drawer is called our Used-Less Things Drawer, because it’s always full of things we have lots of but hardly ever use—like paper clips and spare staples and elastic bands and masking tape and bright yellow Post-it notes and bits of blank paper.

  I found an envelope and then carefully took out Mum’s small wooden stamp box. Inside it are all the Nearly New Stamps that Mum’s collected from letters she’s been sent in the post. Most stamps are marked with something called a “postmark,” which means you can’t use them again—but sometimes they aren’t. When that happens, Mum claps her hands like it’s Christmas morning, carefully peels the stamp away so that it looks just as brand-new as possible, and puts it in her stamp box.

  I picked out three that had the nicest pictures with the color purple in them and a “1st” in the corner. I knew that most letters just had one stamp on them, but I thought three might make the letter get to the Queen faster. Especially since there was a chance I might miss the five o’clock mail pickup—trying to keep things a secret when there’s a grown-up around always makes everything take twice as long.

  I told Mrs. Abbey I was doing my homework early and colored in lots of purple swirls on the front of the envelope and then, just before I put the letter inside it, I thought the Queen should know about Ahmet’s sister and the sea. So I wrote:

  P.S. Ahmet had a little sister named Syrah but she died in the sea. So he needs to find his Mum and Dad even more spescially. Please keep this a Secret.

  I knew that I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone what had happened to Ahmet’s sister, but last year Mr. Thompson told us that the Queen has to keep State Secrets. And if she could keep secrets about the state of everything, I knew she could keep Ahmet’s secrets safe for him too.

  After I had mailed the letter, I felt as if a thousand worms and butterflies and frogs had all jumped into my tummy and were wriggling and squirming and hopping around together. I was even too excited to finish my chocolate chip cookies and glass of milk, which are my favorite Friday treats.

  When Mum got home, she kept looking at me and putting her hand on my head to see if I was feeling ill. I wanted more than anything to tell her about the Greatest Idea in the World, but we had all agreed to keep it secret and I thought it would be more fun to surprise Mum with it all later. I spent the whole weekend trying to stay as quiet as I could in case my mouth said something when I wasn’t paying attention. And even when Mum took me to a farm to see goats and donkeys and rabbits for our Sunday Adventure, I couldn’t help thinking about the Queen, and if she’d gotten our letter yet. The whole weekend seemed to take forever to finish, but just when I thought it never would, Monday morning finally arrived.

  When I got to the bus stop, Tom and Josie and Michael were all waiting.

  “She must have read it by now!” said Michael, bumping into a lamppost in his excitement.

  We all paused as he quickly regained his balance and put his glasses straight.

  “And I bet her Special Police are looking for Ahmet’s family already,” said Josie, starting to half skip and half walk again, bouncing her soccer ball up and down with a loud thwack.

  “Yeah, I bet they’re jumping from special planes right now to find all of them!” said Tom, gripping the straps of his backpack as if it were a parachute.

  We were still chatting excitedly as we got onto the bus and spent the whole journey imagining what else the Queen might be doing to help Ahmet.

  But Monday passed by, and even though I looked up at Mrs. Khan after breaks and recess, hoping she had something special to say, there was no sign that anything had happened at all. Ms. Hemsi looked normal, too, and when we asked Ahmet if anything exciting had happened to him, he looked puzzled and then said, “Bag not smell anymore. Look!” before opening his backpack and inviting each of us to smell it.

  On Tuesday, it was the same, except this time, all of us were feeling more worried than excited, and the worms and butterflies and frogs in my tummy were starting to make me feel sick.

  “What if she never got the letter?” whispered Josie as we were all making a drawing of different planets in the solar system. “What if it got lost in the mail?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered back, because I really didn’t.

  “We have to think of something else!” said Tom, glancing around to make sure Mrs. Khan wasn’t looking. “We’ve only got three days left until the gates close!”

  “Tom! Back to work, please,” ordered Mrs. Khan, looking our way.

  We all quickly put our heads down low.

  I snuck a look over my shoulder at Ahmet, who was busy coloring in a large red circle that was obviously Mars. Tom was right. For whatever reason, the Queen wasn’t helping us. We needed to think of something else.

  I looked at my half-finished drawing of planet Earth. Turning it over, I decided to draw out an Emergency Plan instead.

  While everyone else copied out facts about their planets to learn by heart, I stared at the plan I’d drawn and wondered if it would work. I wasn’t sure that it would, but Dad always said that you could only ever know if something would work or not after you had tried it out first.

  That afternoon, on the bus home, I showed the others my Emergency Plan.

  Josie looked at me and, placing her ball underneath her chin, shook her head. “That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah. We can’t do that! We’d get detentions for a year!” said Tom.

  “It’s the only way,” I said, looking at it carefully.

  This is what it looked like:

  Michael shook his head. “We’ll get expelled,” he whispered, looking around the bus to make sure no one had overheard anything.

  “No, we won’t,” I said, trying to sound more confident.

  “The Special Police would never let us in to see her,” said Michael.

  “They will when we explain everything,” I said. “We’ll go when she’s having her tea—that way we can be sure she’s in.”

  Everyone fell silent. I could tell they were all thinking extra hard, because Josie was biting her bottom lip and Tom was looking down at his tie with a frown and Michael was tapping a finger on the lens of his glasses.

  After a few seconds, Tom looked up and asked, “How will we afford the Tube tickets?”

  “It’s okay,” I said, leaning in. “I’ve got some allowance saved up.”

  “How much have you got?” asked Josie.

  “Four pounds and fifty-five pence,” I whispered, so that nobody on the bus would hear. It would have been more, but I had bought some extra candy last week.

  “That’s not enough for tickets,” tutted Michael. “I’ve got eleven pounds and thirty-two pence at home we can use.”

  “I’ll bring all my allowance too,” said Josie.

  “Me too,” said Tom. “And all my brothers’!”

  “But how are we going to get the Tube tickets?” asked Michael. “Won’t the ticket office people tell the police on us if they see us without a grown-up?”

  “We won’t go to the ticket office—we’ll just get them from the ticket machines,” I said. “I know how to use them. Mum shows me how to buy tickets all the time when we go on our Adventures.”

  “Cool!” said J
osie, looking more sure.

  “So…shall we all do it, then? Tomorrow?” I whispered.

  Josie nodded and twirled the ball around her fingers.

  Michael looked around and, pushing up his glasses, gave a nod too.

  And Tom looked over at Josie and Michael before giving me a thumbs-up.

  “Okay,” I said as I tapped the end of my pencil against my cheek and looked at the plan again. “I’ll get some tea bags—just in case she’s not expecting us and runs out.”

  “I’ll get some cookies,” promised Tom.

  “I’ll bring as much allowance as I can,” said Michael.

  “And maybe we can all get a gift for the Queen,” added Josie. “You know—to make her want to help us.”

  “Should we wear anything special?” asked Tom. “Don’t people get dressed up when they’re meeting the Queen—like hats and dresses and crowns and things? Maybe we should put on our best clothes underneath our uniforms.”

  “Yeah, that’s a brilliant idea!” I said. “And we can get changed in the bathroom at the palace.”

  “Hold on.” Michael looked at us, his large eyes even rounder and wider. “We can’t all go, can we? Mrs. Khan won’t believe us if we say we’re all sick on the exact same day—and what if she calls our parents?”

  Everyone fell quiet again. We all wanted to go and see the Queen together, but Michael was right.

  After a few seconds, Josie said, “I can stay behind. My parents don’t like me being friends with Ahmet anyway—they’d probably get really mad if they found out I ran away from school for him.”

  “Let me go!” said Tom. “My uncle’s a policeman in New York and says 4-1-1 and Tango, Fox, Chicken, and things, so I can talk to the Queen’s Special Police.”

  Michael sighed. “Okay. So I’ll stay too. Even though I’ve always wanted to meet the Queen…”

  “Okay, then. Tom will come with me,” I said.

  “Quick—it’s our stop!” cried out Josie, frantically pushing the bell.

  * * *

  Later that night, as I got ready for bed, I wondered what Dad would have said if he knew I was going on an adventure to try to meet the Queen. I think he would have put on a record and danced around the living room just like he did whenever he was really happy.

  That last thought made all the worms and frogs and butterflies in my tummy settle down and helped me fall into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of my dad dancing with the Queen.

  I’m not sure if Tintin ever woke up on the morning of an adventure feeling hungry and sick at the exact same time. But that’s how I felt when I woke up the next day.

  It was so early that the birds had only just started to sing, and the sun hadn’t fully risen yet. As soon as the sky began to turn from dark blue to golden pink, I jumped out of bed and started to get ready. The hardest thing was trying to fit my school uniform over my best clothes—it made me look all puffy like a blowfish, and the buttons on my school shirt looked like they might pop open at any moment. But luckily, Mum didn’t notice anything because she was tired and was still rubbing her eyes a lot when I left.

  I got to the bus stop fifteen minutes early just like we said we would, but there was no one there except an old lady and two other grown-ups in suits.

  After a few minutes, Tom came running up the road. As soon as he reached me, I could tell right away that he hadn’t slept much because his eyes looked red and his usually spiky hair was flat in the back.

  Then came Josie, looking as excited and nervous as I felt inside, and Michael, who tripped over his shoelaces and stumbled but kept on running up to us anyway.

  “Got everything?” asked Josie.

  I nodded and showed her the Tube map I had taken from Mum’s Used-Less Drawer and the tea bags I had taken from the kitchen jar.

  We’d all brought things to give to the Queen. Tom had brought a packet of shortbread cookies, Josie had a new packet of soccer stickers, and Michael had brought a box of fudge that had a crown on the box. I had brought my favorite astronaut ruler. Even though the astronaut didn’t move anymore, I was sure the Queen would like it because she always wears sparkling brooches that shine like stars on her dresses. Maybe when she was in school, she wanted to be an astronaut, too, just like I did before I wanted to become a reporter like Tintin.

  When we had stored all the presents safely in my bag, Josie counted all the money we had collected. Each of us had emptied out our piggy banks and savings jars and Tom had gone into his brothers’ rooms to see what he could find.

  “They’ve got loads of coins everywhere! Can’t believe I’ve never done it before!” he exclaimed, bringing out a fistful of coins.

  In the end, we had exactly twenty-seven pounds and sixty-two pence. A fortune!

  “Half of twenty-seven pounds and sixty-two pence is”—Josie squeezed her eyes tight and quickly did the math in her head—“thirteen pounds and eighty-one pence!” She gave half of the money to me and half to Tom for safekeeping.

  “You sure you know which Tube to take?” asked Josie. The freckles on her face were sliding up and down because she was scrunching up her nose every few seconds. She only ever does that when she’s extra nervous. It makes her look like a hamster.

  “Yup. We take the pink line to King’s Cross and then the dark blue line to Green Park,” I said. “Mum always takes me on the trains for our Really Big Adventures, so I know the way.”

  “How far is the palace from the train station?” asked Tom. His voice sounded squeaky but I couldn’t tell if that was because he was nervous or excited.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But I don’t think there’s a bus stop in front of the palace, so we might need to take a taxi. It shouldn’t be too far, though, so hopefully we won’t spend all our money.”

  “Guys, our bus is here!” said Michael, and he stuck out his hand so the bus driver would stop.

  “Remember what to tell Mrs. Khan!” I whispered loudly. “That me and Tom are sick and that our mums said we’ll be back tomorrow!”

  Josie nodded. “Good luck!” And giving us a quick wave, she followed Michael onto the bus to school.

  After the bus had disappeared, Tom and I crossed the street and walked up to the bus stop where all the buses traveling in the opposite direction stopped.

  When the bus we needed finally came, I put out my hand and we got on, nervously looking at the driver in case she asked us why we weren’t in school. But she didn’t; in fact, she barely even looked at us.

  We sat on the bus all the way to the last stop and then, holding hands, crossed the big road to the Tube station.

  There were at least a million people all dressed in suits, rushing around trying to get through the barriers. They looked angry and red in the face, and there was lots of tutting and head-shaking. I had never been to the train station when it was so busy before, and I didn’t like it. It made my head feel hot and fuzzy.

  “Come on,” said Tom, nudging me.

  We walked over to the ticket machines where there was a long line of people. Some of them looked down at us with frowns on their faces, but no one said anything, so we didn’t have to say anything back.

  When we finally got to the front of the line, we walked up to one of the machines. It looked scarier than I remembered. There were at least a hundred buttons surrounding a large screen and an opening that looked like a mailbox slot at the bottom.

  “Go on,” whispered Tom.

  “Okay,” I said, not wanting to be a coward. I took a deep breath, stood up on my toes, and walked over to the screen. I pressed the button for “New Ticket,” then “Child,” and then typed in “Buk-Kingham Palace” for the destination, but nothing happened.

  I tried again, but the machine started flashing.

  “Do you kids need help?” asked a woman from the line. She was dressed in a green coat and sh
iny shoes and had curly black hair and glasses.

  Tom’s eyes became wide and he shook his head, but I nodded.

  The woman stepped forward. “Where do you need to go?” she asked.

  “Buk-Kingham Palace,” I said. “For…our school trip.” I tried to make my voice more deep and grown-up sounding.

  The woman frowned but then, looking at her watch, said, “Okay.” She quickly pressed lots of buttons on the screen. “There you go,” she said before stepping back into the line again.

  We looked up at the machine, which was flashing “£8:90” at us. Tom quickly got the money out of his bag and put in the exact change. Two pink cards instantly popped out like candy from a vending machine, and, grabbing them, we thanked the lady and ran down the stairs to where I knew the trains for the city would be.

  We squeezed ourselves onto the platform. It was so full of people that I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to get on—I had never seen so many people squashed together in one place before.

  But when the train came, everyone flooded onto it like a giant wave and took us with them. Tom grabbed hold of my arm and I grabbed his and we soon found ourselves pressed like sandwich filling between lots of people, all busy looking at their phones or listening to music.

  “This…is…good…,” said Tom, his face squashed up against a large belly. I tried to nod but someone’s book was touching my head.

  We watched as lots of stations passed by and looked at all the different people getting on and off the train. Finally, we heard the driver announce that the next station was going to be King’s Cross.

  “We have to follow the dark blue line,” I said to Tom after we had jumped out onto the platform. We followed signs for the Piccadilly line and got on another train. Easy!