The Boy with the Butterfly Mind

by Victoria Williamson

  I can see Elin scowling at me, but I’m too excited to pay her any attention. I can tell she doesn’t like the thought of not being the best at something, but it’s not like she’s interested in science, is it? She never wants to do any experiments with me, she never comes on bug hunts with me and Paige, and she doesn’t ever watch the Discovery Channel with me, even though I always tell her when all the best programmes are on and offer to make her popcorn so she doesn’t get hungry.

  “That’s great, Jamie!” Dad grins. It’s a real smile, not one of the tired ones I saw a lot of before Christmas. He’s been way happier since the doctor cut my medication in half and stopped me walking round like the undead. He wanted the old me back even more than I did. “Let me know what you need for it and we’ll go shopping on Sunday while Elin’s at her gran’s with her dad, OK?”

  “OK!” I grin back and give him a high five. Dad’s hospital shifts changed back after the New Year. It’s great having him at home again when I come back from school. Liz is nice, but she always tells me to do my homework first before I make my Mad Jamie Specials, and sometimes I get so hungry when the medication wears off I want to rip my homework jotter into little pieces and eat the pages.

  “Hey Elin, are you going to enter the science competition?” I ask, banging about with plates and jars of jam and peanut butter.

  Elin doesn’t answer. She’s biting her pencil and looking upset. I don’t know what to do to cheer her up. I’ve tried everything I can think of to make her like me, so maybe I should just leave her alone like she says.

  “Have you got any idea what you’re going to do for your science project?” Dad asks me, taking a big bite of one of my sandwiches and making me laugh when he gets cream on his chin.

  “Have I got any ideas?” I grin. “I’m the Sandwich Man – ideas are my best thing!”

  29

  Elin

  “I’ll get that, Mum. You go and make sure Jamie’s put his uniform on. He doesn’t listen to me in the morning.”

  “Thanks Elin, you’re such a good girl. It’s two capsules, remember?” Mum handed the medication bottle to me and went hurrying down the hall to make sure Jamie was ready for school. She had a big budget report to present in work this morning, and she couldn’t afford to be even five minutes late.

  This was the chance I’d been waiting for.

  I opened the bottle and took two capsules out, holding them up to the light and examining them. They were all that was standing between me and my real family. It was funny that something so small could make the difference between Jamie being an out-of-control nightmare and the winner of our class’s science quiz every week. The only way to get rid of him and Paul and get my family back was to let the Monster loose again.

  And that meant telling the biggest lie I’d ever told.

  I broke open the capsules the same way Mum did every morning, but instead of sprinkling the little white balls inside over a spoonful of peanut butter, I poured them into the bin. I spread some more peanut butter over the top of the spoon to make it look as if I’d buried the white balls inside, then I left the opened capsules on the counter by the sink where Mum could see them.

  I put the medication bottle carefully back in the cupboard, sat down at the breakfast table, and waited.

  In another thirty seconds there was a pounding of bare feet on the carpet and Jamie came charging down the hall and stampeding into the kitchen like a wild buffalo. He threw himself down at the table, took a big gulp of orange juice, shoved the spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth and swallowed without even looking at it. Then he began wolfing down his toast and talking at top speed about a dream he’d had last night where he was our class teacher and we spent all term building a giant rocket ship to take us to Mars.

  I pretended I was just ignoring him as usual, but I was really watching him carefully out of the corner of my eye. Jamie ate food way too fast to even taste it most of the time, and that’s what I was counting on.

  He was so busy describing his rocket blasting off from the school launch pad that he didn’t notice the peanut butter he’d swallowed tasted way better than usual. Jamie practically ate his food whole, but when it came to those little yellow capsules he couldn’t bear to swallow them. Doctor Reid told Paul and Mum it was OK to break them open and sprinkle them in jam or peanut butter, just as long as Jamie didn’t chew them. The little white balls slowly released the medication into his system through the day to keep him calmer and more focused.

  Only today there’d be no medication keeping Jamie’s temper in check.

  It was time to wake the Monster and see just how loud he could roar.

  After a few days of missed medication, Jamie was struggling to finish his history project and arguing with the other boys on the football pitch at break. Today we were supposed to be doing our maths workbooks until lunch, but Jamie couldn’t concentrate. His eyes were darting everywhere like a wasp was buzzing round his head, and his hands and feet were all twitchy and restless. He’d accidentally kicked Darren under the table four times, and Darren had made it clear Jamie wouldn’t be welcome at his house at the weekend to play computer games if it happened again.

  Come on, I thought, watching him chew his pencil so hard it broke in two. Just a few more distractions and he’ll be ready to explode.

  “Are you OK?” Paige whispered for about the billionth time.

  “I’m fine!” Jamie snapped. “Stop asking me that!”

  Paige looked hurt and hid her face behind her workbook. I felt sorry for her for a moment, but then I remembered why I was doing this.

  Jamie needs to be the Monster again or I’ll never get rid of him and get my real family back, I reminded myself. I can’t feel bad for him or anyone else. I have to stay strong, like the Perfect Princess.

  Just then Jamie caught sight of my pencil case full of interesting things to play with. I’d deliberately filled it with a collection of my most tempting stationery. I could see his hands were itching to touch the glittery pens and pencil sharpeners in the shape of cherry cupcakes. As soon as his fingertips made contact with the nearest pen, I made sure all hell broke loose.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Stop touching my things!”

  Jamie jerked back like he’d been stung, accidentally giving Darren another karate kick to the shin.

  “Ow!” he yelled. “Cut it out you little freak, or I’ll break your stupid head!”

  “What’s the problem here?” Miss Morrison came marching over, hands on her hips and her mouth drawn into a thin little line.

  “Jamie keeps distracting us,” I sighed dramatically. “It’s really hard to get any work done.”

  Jamie opened his mouth to protest, but everyone at the table apart from Paige immediately jumped on the ‘blame Jamie for breathing’ bandwagon before he could get a word in edgeways.

  “Jamie, what’s the problem?” Miss Morrison snapped. She wasn’t in a good mood this morning. Jamie had spilled his water bottle on her handbag when he was running from the sink after break, and her mobile phone got all wet. She wasn’t going to tolerate any more bad behaviour from him today.

  The Dragon picked up his maths workbook and flicked through it, and I could see her nostrils flaring like fire was about to come shooting out.

  “You haven’t done a single sum all morning! Are you deliberately trying to get into trouble?”

  Jamie clamped his hands over his ears, the way he did when the stress got too much for him and he wanted to escape. It wasn’t a very good way to hide from the stares and sniggers of the rest of the class who were waiting for his meltdown.

  Just one more tiny push, that’s all it would take.

  Just one more—

  “Are you listening to me, Jamie? Take your hands off your ears!”

  Miss Morrison put a hand on his arm to calm him down, and Jamie completely lost it. He jumped up and grabbed his maths workbook, tearing it in two.

  “I hate maths! It’s STUPID! I hate this class!”
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br />   Before Miss Morrison could stop him, he’d raced out of the door, and we could hear his footsteps echoing down the corridor towards the gym hall. The Dragon heaved a big sigh like the fire she’d been ready to breathe had been unexpectedly put out, and marched after him.

  As soon as she was gone everyone started whispering, and the classroom sounded like a hive of buzzing bees. I could feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of my head, but when I turned round it wasn’t Rachel who was glaring at me, it was Paige. She’d stopped gazing after Jamie with her big concerned eyes, and was staring at me instead. For once, she didn’t look like she wanted to be my friend.

  I put my head down and tried to ignore her, burying the guilt down deep inside with all of my anger and frustration. I couldn’t stop now, I had to win this war. I had to prove to Miss Morrison that I was still the best pupil in the whole school and deserved the place at the science fair, and I had to prove to Dad that I was still his perfect daughter.

  No matter what I did though, I’d never be able to prove to myself that I wasn’t an awful person for what I was doing to Jamie.

  30

  Jamie

  “Come on Jamie, you’re nearly there, just a couple more lines,” Dad says.

  I heave a big sigh and fight the urge to chuck my marker pen off the wall.

  I HATE writing almost as much as I hate cheese. I don’t see why I have to handwrite all these stupid display signs, but Dad says the whole point of a science fair is that everyone can read about how you carried out your experiment. I’m pretty sure any idiot could look at my crystal garden and taste my rock candy and work out for themselves what I’ve done, but since I’m not thinking too straight these days I’ll take Dad’s word for it.

  If it wasn’t for all of Dad’s help I would’ve given up on this science project weeks ago.

  My brain’s completely broken again, and I’m in so much trouble in class that if I don’t win a place for our school in the science fair then I’ll probably get expelled. I thought I was getting better, but I was obviously just kidding myself. There’s no medicine that can fix me, no cure for my meltdowns. I’m always going to be Mad Jamie the Freak-Boy, and Mum was right to run a zillion miles away to America to get away from me.

  I just wish there was somewhere I could run to get away from myself.

  I don’t know why my medication isn’t working any more. The school’s been ringing Dad and Liz every day about my behaviour, and I’ve had to go to the lunchtime homework club so many times I might as well just pack up and go and live in Miss Morrison’s handbag. I’ve been sent home twice for fighting with Darren, and last week I got suspended from the football team, so no more dreams of playing in the World Cup for me.

  I heard Liz talking on the phone to the head teacher the other day. He wants to get a special tutor in so I can have lessons on my own and not disturb anyone. It’s like I’m a disease that everyone wants to quarantine so I won’t infect the world with my craziness.

  It doesn’t matter what they try. There’s no cure for being me.

  “Great!” Dad gives me his biggest, most encouraging smile and moves my pen a bit so I don’t go so far off the card that I start writing on the table. “Last line Jamie, then you’ve finished.”

  “Can’t I just type it up on the computer and print it?” I whine, my hand starting to cramp in protest. “Everyone else will have theirs typed up, even Elin, and her handwriting’s super-neat.”

  “Exactly,” Dad grins. “The judges want to see that you’ve done the experiments all by yourself, and you clearly have. Most of the other kids’ parents will have done their work for them, so your display will stand out a mile.”

  He doesn’t smile much these days, so I finish writing for his sake, despite having serious doubt about the judges wanting to see my big loopy letters scrawled over the display cards.

  “Done!” I announce, flinging the black marker down and vowing to throw the whole tub of pens in the bin as soon as Dad’s back is turned. “That’s everything, isn’t it?” I shuffle the last display card into the pack and put it into my schoolbag without needing to be reminded. I don’t want to leave anything behind tomorrow morning. This science competition is too important.

  Dad’s already helped me pack my crystal garden displays and rock candy trees into boxes ready to take to school. They’re stacked neatly by the door, waiting to be put in Liz’s car. While I was writing the last card, Dad was hanging up my school uniform on my wardrobe door and laying out my school shoes. He wants to make sure nothing spoils my big day tomorrow.

  He knows how much winning this competition means to me. He just doesn’t know the real reason why I want to win.

  Liz and Dad are arguing about me every night now. Liz wants to take me back to the doctor to get my medication dose increased, and Dad wants everyone to stop blaming me for everything. Elin wants rid of me so badly I can even see her robot laser eyes burning a hole in the back of my head when I’m not looking. If I can just win that thousand pounds and buy Elin riding lessons, she’ll finally like me, Liz will think I’m a nice person instead of a monster, and we can all live happily ever after.

  It feels like I’m trying to win a war rather than just a science fair.

  “That’s us all set,” Dad smiles. It’s another tired smile, but if I look really hard there’s a big helping of pride mixed into it as well. He knows how hard I’ve worked on this project, since he’s sat with me every night for weeks while I’ve cried and shouted and fretted and fussed over getting my experiments done. He’s the best dad in the whole world.

  He doesn’t deserve a monster son like me.

  “How about we celebrate with a round of jam specials, hey Sandwich Man?”

  We’ll have the kitchen to ourselves. Liz will probably be in Elin’s room all night helping her finish her butterfly project. I wish we could have all worked together, but no one except Dad wants to be in the same room as me any more.

  “Aren’t you bored of eating my sandwiches?” I ask. “Mum never liked them, and Liz says you shouldn’t encourage me to eat so much sugar.”

  “Jamie, there’s only one thing in the whole world I love more than your sandwiches,” Dad says.

  “What’s that? Chicken nuggets? Chocolate cake? Please don’t say it’s cheese or I’ll disown you!”

  “No, it’s you of course,” Dad laughs, nudging me and making me giggle when I nearly fall off the end of the bed. “Race you to the kitchen. Last one there has to do the washing-up!”

  31

  Elin

  “Done!”

  I stepped back and admired my butterfly display. The coloured foil wings shimmered like jewels in the sunlight, just like the ones Dad made me in our last summer together. My tropical rainforest scene was so big I needed to use up a whole pack of thumb tacks to pin it to the assembly hall wall. A couple of girls from 7A complained I was using their space, but their entry was just a rubbish papier mâché volcano they copied off the internet, so none of the classroom assistants helping us paid any attention to them.

  My project was perfect. Everyone thought so.

  “That’s stunning, Elin! You definitely deserve to win,” one of the assistants said, stopping to look.

  I grinned and finished pinning my neat printouts to the wall with a description of each butterfly. There was also a central poster explaining how butterfly wings work – that was the science bit of my project – but it didn’t seem very important when my display was so pretty.

  The judges were going to love it.

  The break-time bell rang just as I put up my last display card, and a big group of teachers came in to have a look at the entries on their way to the staffroom. Most of the other kids headed out to the playground, but I hung around for a bit, pretending to straighten some of the cards and waiting for more compliments.

  I waited.

  And waited.

  When they didn’t come I looked round.

  The teachers were all gathered at a table f
urther down the hall, looking at Jamie’s display. He’d already run off at top speed to go and wreak havoc in the playground, so I was the one who heard everything the teachers had to say about his entry.

  “It’s really impressive, isn’t it? This’ll definitely be the one the judges pick to represent our school.”

  “He’s obviously done it all by himself, not like some of these displays.”

  “Jamie’s light years ahead of the rest of the class in science,” Miss Morrison said. “If that boy could just concentrate on his work in school he’d have a bright future ahead of him.”

  “Oh! Elin, are you still here?” Mr Robertson from 7A looked round as I tiptoed past on my way out. Behind him I caught a glimpse of Jamie’s science experiment, and my breath caught painfully in my throat.

  It was brilliant.

  I hadn’t paid any attention to what chemicals he was mixing in his room these last few weeks, or what he’d been cooking up in pots in the kitchen with Paul. I was so focussed on my own display I didn’t even look to see what he was unpacking onto his table this morning. There was an amazing miniature garden, with blue, green and pink crystals growing on pebbles and sprouting from tiny plant pots. They were all shapes and sizes, some long and thin like needles, some tall and rectangular, and some tiny like grains of sugar. Each type of crystal had a card next to it explaining its properties and how it was made, and a whole bunch of other information I was too far away to read despite Jamie’s giant messy handwriting.

  At the end of the table was a big rock-candy tree, with lollipop sticks covered in boiled sugar crystals, and a sign next to it saying Taste me! On the wall behind it was a poster covered in rock-candy recipes and photographs showing each stage of the crystal-growing process.

  My stomach gave a sick lurch when I realised the teachers were right.