The Wrong Boy

by Willy Russell

  And I knew that my Mam didn’t have any kind of answer for him then because it all went really quiet. And my Mam must have just started crying because I heard my Aunty Patronising Paula saying, ‘Agh, Shelagh! Come on, love. I know you’re upset and who can blame y’? My God, you’ve already had enough to put up with, haven’t y’, ’ey? What with your Johnny? And now this! Now his son turns out like this. There, there! Go on, love, you have a good cry.’

  And I hated my Aunty Pigging Paula then. I hated her and my Uncle Bastard Jason for pretending that they were saying nice and kind things to my Mam when they weren’t at all. When all they were really doing was making it worse for my Mam, and the bastard pair of them enjoying it. But I was even more angry at my Mam because she’d let them win and she’d given in. And my Mam was always giving in to my Bastard Uncle Jason and my Aunty Pigging Paula and she didn’t need to because my Mam was much cleverer than the pair of them put together and my Mam never ever ripped nobody off and never went borrowing money and not giving it back. But now my Mam was crying. And instead of shouting at my Uncle Bastard Jason and my Aunty Pigging Paula for cheating my Gran out of her money and spending it in the Grand Canary Islands, my Mam was just getting all upset about me again. So I kicked the door open then and I kicked it so hard that it banged back against the wall and my Mam said, ‘Raymond! For God’s sake!’

  But I didn’t even look at my Mam. I didn’t look at anybody. I just walked through the living room, went outside and sat down on the tarmac, playing with my Star Wars figures and wishing there was a real Luke Skywalker and that he could come to Failsworth with his light sabre and rid the world of all my rancid relatives.

  Moronic Mark and his sister were down at the end of the garden and they didn’t see me at first. But then I heard a shout and the two of them came running up to me, the pair of them pronouncing about which of the Star Wars figures they intended to play with. And Sonia was doing that stupid chanting that she always did, saying, ‘I’m playing with Princess Leia. I love Princess Leia. I’m playing with Princess Leia.’

  But then she got to where I was sat with all the figures spread out on the tarmac and she stopped her chanting and summoned up a surly scowl as she saw that there was no Princess Leia. Moronic Mark said could he please play with Obi-Wan Kenobi and some of the Wookies and I let him because at least he had said ‘please’. But Simpering Sonia just stood there scowling and then she stamped her foot and said, ‘And I want to play with Princess Leia!’

  I said, ‘You can’t!’

  She said, ‘Why?’ and she thrust her head forward and glared at me.

  And it wasn’t even Sonia’s fault really. She couldn’t help being seven and stupid. And I don’t suppose she could help it that she had my Appalling Aunty Paula and my Bastard Uncle Jason for a mum and dad. But it wasn’t my fault neither; it wasn’t my fault that I’d got all the blame for what had happened at the canal. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t have no friends any more and that my best friend had betrayed me and dug up and ripped up the secret document. It wasn’t my fault that I’d been suspended from school and expelled from the Cubs. And when Simpering Sonia stamped her foot again and said, ‘Why? Why can’t I play with Princess Leia?’ I said, ‘Because Princess Leia’s dead!’

  Sickening Sonia just looked at me. Even Moronic Mark looked up; the pair of them suddenly worried. And I was even worried myself. I didn’t know why I’d said something like that. I knew that I was being awful. But somehow I just couldn’t stop myself from being awful. And when Simpering Sonia’s bottom lip began to tremble and she said, ‘You’re just telling lies! Princess Leia’s not dead because I love Princess Leia,’ I should have just left it at that, perhaps even gone upstairs and brought Princess Leia down so that Sickening Sonia could play with her.

  But I couldn’t seem to stop myself and I said, ‘I’m not telling lies at all, Sonia. Because when you see the next Star Wars film, Princess Leia won’t be in it and she won’t even be mentioned in it because that’s what George Lucas has said!’

  And Moronic Mark who was palpably dead delighted at his sister’s discomfort said, ‘So it must be true, Sonia! Because Raymond knows all about George Lucas and the Star Wars trilogy. Raymond’s the cleverest person in the world about Star Wars, aren’t y’, Raymond?’

  And even then I could have just left it. I could feel that I was digging myself into more trouble. But that’s the thing about trouble; it’s like quicksand and once you’ve got yourself into it, it’s dead easy then to just keep getting deeper and deeper into more of it.

  So I told Moronic Mark, ‘I don’t know everything about George Lucas and the Star Wars trilogy but I do know that Princess Leia just had to die, didn’t she?’

  Sonia was staring at me, her forehead all creased up with the effort of trying not to believe me. Then Moronic Mark asked me why, why Princess Leia had to be killed. And I didn’t even know what it was I was about to tell him. Until I heard myself saying, ‘Because Han Solo found out about Princess Leia, didn’t he? He found out that she was really a prostitute! And all the time Princess Leia was supposed to be fighting the evil imperial forces she was shagging them all instead!’

  Moronic Mark’s eyes were out on stalks.

  ‘That’s right,’ I said, ‘she’d been shagging the Stormtroopers for fifty pence a go! And so George Lucas said he’s not having any prostitutes in his films and that’s why she had to get killed.’

  Moronic Mark just slowly shook his head and stared at me in speechless wonder. Then Simpering Sonia piped up in her whingey whiny voice and said, ‘Tell me what you’re talking about. I don’t know what y’ mean.’

  Nodding contemptuously towards his little sister, Mark said, ‘She doesn’t know what a prostitute is, Raymond.’

  ‘I do!’ Simpering Sonia declared.

  ‘What then?’ Mark challenged her.

  Sonia just scowled and said, ‘I’m not tellin’ y’.’

  So Moronic Mark ignored her again and said, ‘See, Raymond, she doesn’t know what me and you are talkin’ about.’

  Sickening Sonia announced that she was going to kick their Mark then unless he told her what we were talking about. But Mark just said, ‘We’re not tellin’ y’ because you’re too young, isn’t she, Raymond? You’re too young to know what prostitutes and shagging is. All you need to know, Sonia, is that you can’t play with Princess Leia no more because Princess Leia’s dead!’

  Sonia just stood there then with her bottom lip sticking out as she watched me and Mark playing with the other Star Wars figures. And I even started to feel sorry for her and wished that I hadn’t said all that about Princess Leia. So I lifted up Luke Skywalker who was my second best Star Wars figure and I said, ‘Come on. You can play with Luke Skywalker if you like.’

  But Sonia just shook her head and stuck her bottom lip out even further. Then as she stood there watching me and Moronic Mark playing Star Wars, she suddenly said, ‘Well, I know something that you don’t know!’

  We didn’t even look at her. ‘What?’ Mark asked in a bored, older-brotherly sort of way.

  ‘There’s a Bad Boy!’ I heard Sonia say. ‘There’s a bad boy down at the canal. A bad filthy boy. And he gets the little children and he makes them do wicked bad things.’

  I looked up at Sonia then. But Mark just kept on playing and he told his sister, ‘That’s nowt new! Everybody knows about that, Sonia. Just about every little kid in Failsworth knows not to go near the canal.’ Mark suddenly pointed at Sonia then as he said, ‘And you better hadn’t go near there or he’ll get you, the Bad Boy. So don’t you dare!’

  ‘I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t,’ Sonia scowled.

  ‘Because the Filthy Bad Boy, he’s got evil ways,’ Mark said. ‘It’s not safe at the canal, not for any of the little children. That’s why all the mums and dads have told all the kids. And little kids should always do what their mums and dads tell them, shouldn’t they, Raymond?’

  I looked at Mark. And then I just nodded. And
he said, ‘You see, Sonia! Even Raymond wouldn’t go near the canal, not when there’s a Bad Boy lurking who makes y’ do bad things. Raymond wouldn’t go and he’s eleven!’

  Sonia scowled then and said, ‘Well, I wouldn’t go neither. My mummy said I’d be smacked if I went anywhere near the canal.’

  Mark nodded at her and he told her, ‘Yeah, you’d be smacked if you were lucky enough to get back in one piece. But a little girl like you, Sonia! If the Filthy Bad Boy at the canal gets hold of you, y’ might never come back in one piece, never!’

  Sonia shuddered then. And she shut up for a bit. And then Mark started asking me about The Return of the Jedi so I started telling him and gradually I forgot all about Simpering Sonia. And with talking about Star Wars, even to someone as moronic as Mark, I forgot about everything else; forgot about school and the canal and the Cubs and everything. And it was even nice just sitting there on the warm tarmac. But I didn’t know that Simpering Sonia had gone back into the house. I didn’t know that she’d walked into the living room and stood there in the doorway, tears welling up in her eyes and her bottom lip starting to quiver. And when her mother finally looked up and asked, ‘What’s up, love? Sonia, what’s up?’ I didn’t know that Simpering Sonia had burst into shuddering sobs and announced the recent demise of Princess Leia. I didn’t know that her dad had laughed at that and told her, ‘Don’t be stupid! How the hell can Princess Leia be dead, love? She’s just a character in a bloody film!’

  And I didn’t know that Sonia had stamped her frustrated foot then and told her father that Princess Leia was dead! Because Raymond had said! About Princess Leia and how she’d been shagging all the Stormtroopers and being a prostitute for fifty pence a time.

  I didn’t know that the air in our front room had suddenly plunged to forty-five degrees below zero. Or that my Uncle Bastard Jason had momentarily lost the power of speech. I didn’t know that my Aunty Paula’s jaw had dropped into her teacup or that my Mam had slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head into her hands.

  I didn’t know any of that because I was sat on the warm tarmac, telling Mark about all the special effects it took to get the Ewoks flying through the Forest of Endor. And the first I knew of what had been going on was when my Uncle Jason appeared at our back door and said, ‘Mark! Get in this fucking house, go on! Now!’

  And as Mark dropped his Wookies and quickly did as he was bid, my Uncle Jason stood over me and pointed down at me with his big finger and said, ‘And you, y’ sick little bastard, I’ll swing for you, I will!’

  I just looked up at him and he glared down at me. And it was like I was looking up at Darth Vader himself. And I know that if he’d had a light sabre in his hand at that second he would gladly have obliterated me. As it was he lifted up his arm and he was going to smack me but my Aunty Paula appeared behind him then saying, ‘Jason, for God’s sake! What good will that do? Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s just get Mark and Sonia home.’

  And then she took my Uncle Bastard Jason by the arm and pulled him away as she said to me, ‘You! You’re disgusting, you are. Telling filthy, twisted things like that to a seven-year-old girl. Sobbing, she is, sobbing her heart out in there.’

  Then my Aunty looked at me in downright disgust and slowly nodded as she said, ‘I always thought your father was daft as a brush. But at least he wasn’t dirty with it, not like you!’ And then she just looked at me as if I was something septic.

  And my Uncle Jason pointed at me again and he said, ‘You’re bloody weird, you are, weird! But I’ll tell y’ something, son, you’ll not corrupt those children of mine with your bloody weirdness and your disgusting mind! Because I’ll break your fucking little neck first, I’m warning you!’

  And then they disappeared into the house. I just sat there on the tarmac until I heard the front door being slammed. I started collecting up all my Star Wars figures. And my Mam appeared at the back door and I’d never seen her so angry before. She looked at me like she could willingly kill me and she said, ‘Are you doing all this just to hurt me? Are y’, are y’?’

  I shook my head and just stood there clutching hold of my Star Wars figures.

  ‘Then why are y’ doing it?’ she shouted. ‘Princess Leia’s a prostit—! Are you out of your stupid mind or what? What have I done, Raymond? Go on, you tell me, son, you tell me what have I done to deserve any of this?’

  I couldn’t tell her though because I knew my Mam hadn’t done anything to deserve it. But my Mam just thought I was being insolent and she suddenly ran up towards me and pointed her finger in my face and said, ‘You’re going to tell me … you’re going to tell me now and I don’t care if we have to wait out here all bloody night, you’re going to tell me, Raymond!’ She grabbed hold of my arm as she said, ‘I’ve bloody had enough and I want to know what’s going on! Why in the name of God would you say a thing like that, ’ey, ’ey, ’ey?’

  My Mam started shaking me and she was shaking me so hard that all my Star Wars figures fell out of my hands and spilled all over the tarmac. And I pushed my Mam away and she looked at me all shocked as I shouted at her, ‘I don’t know why!’

  And then all the tears that I hadn’t cried since I’d found the ripped-up document at the foot of the railway bridge started streaming down my face as I carried on shouting at my Mam, telling her, ‘I’ve got no friends! And everybody hates me and even you hate me because I’m fat and I’m horrible and I can’t help it! I didn’t mean to do it! I didn’t mean to tell Sonia what I told her but it just came out of me and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I know that I’m horrible but I can’t stop being horrible because there’s something inside me that just makes me be horrible!’

  My Mam stood there looking at me and she had a hand raised up to her mouth. She slowly started shaking her head then and she sounded frightened as she said, ‘Dear Christ! Dear Christ, what are we going to do?’

  Then my Mam turned away and went into the house.

  And I just sat down in the middle of all my Star Wars figures and wished with all my heart that I could just find my way back to when I was a nice boy; just an ordinary, normal, everyday, unremarkable boy. I didn’t want to be the boy I was being; the boy who was horrible and spiteful to his little cousin, the boy who caused his Mam to keep shouting at him all the time. I didn’t want to be like that. I wanted to be nice again.

  And perhaps that’s all my Mam wanted as well.

  Perhaps that’s why she decided, that night, that something had to be done.

  She sat there in the front room and she thought about things. She thought about the dread that she’d always carried with her but never ever told anybody about – the dread that my Dad had never quite been all there, in the head. My Mam had always been loyal to my Dad, loyal to the memory of him. And even though he had been worse than bleeding useless and he’d never laid the turf, my Mam had always refused to listen to my Uncle Jason who was too fond of declaring that my Dad had been demented and even a bit twisted, the way he kept falling in love with Gretsch guitars and long-necked banjos and keyboards he could never play. But my Mam wouldn’t have it that my Dad was daft and she always defended the memory of him.

  ‘Feckless,’ my Mam had always said. ‘Johnny was never daft. Feckless and soft, I’ll give you that. But that’s the worst that anybody could say about Johnny.’

  That’s what my Mam had always said. That’s what she always said to anybody if they ever suggested that my Dad might have been a bit untoward in his facility for falling in love with musical instruments.

  But secretly, in her heart, there was always a dread that would whisper to my Mam; the dread that my Dad really had been a bit daft. And the worst dreadful whisper, the whisper that really frightened my Mam, was the whisper that one day her son would start displaying some sign that he was taking after his father.

  And as she sat there in the front room, the night that Princess Leia had died, my Mam started to acknowledge what she’d been refusing to acknowledge ever since that d
ay she’d been summoned to the school and told the terrible facts about me. My Mam began to acknowledge that my recent behaviour, my inexplicable behaviour, was something bad coming out; something that had been there lying dormant all these years, giving no hint of its presence in the nice, normal boy that I had previously been. My Mam thought back to that day in the New Headmaster’s room and recalled the words of that chairperson woman, that Mrs Bradwick who’d said that perhaps my Mam should seek professional help. She thought too about what my Bastard Uncle had said about ‘implications for the future’.

  My Mam thought for a long time. And that was the night she decided. The night she acknowledged that the dread whisper was coming true. And that something had to be done.

  My Mam never said nowt, not to me, not to my Gran. The only person she spoke to was my Uncle Jason. But my Bastard Uncle Jason told her, ‘I don’t know if it’ll do any good, Shelagh. Y’ might just be wasting your money. A bad apple’s a bad apple and polishing it up a bit won’t make it any good.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Jason,’ my Mam told him, ‘I’m looking for a bit of support here!’

  And my Uncle Jason had shrugged then and said, ‘Well, you can try it, can’t y’? You’ve certainly got to do something, Shelagh. I know it’s definitely something not right, doing what he did down at that canal. And telling things like that to our Sonia; traumatised she was, Shelagh, traumatised.’

  My Mam sighed and apologised again, telling her brother, ‘That’s why I’m trying to do something about it, Jason. If there is something wrong with him, if he’s ill then he needs help, doesn’t he?’

  My Uncle Jason just shrugged again. And he said, ‘If he is ill, aye. Y’ could be right. But then again, Shelagh, it might be nothing to do with illness. You might have to face up to the fact that it’s just the way he’s inclined, Shelagh, and it’s got nothing to do with illness at all!’