The Bubble Boy

by Stewart Foster

  The blinds are drawn when I go back out. Greg stands by the door and watches me get into bed.

  ‘I’ll check on you later, mate. Maybe catch some football in the morning.’

  ‘Okay.’ I slide down under the covers.

  ‘Night, mate.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  He dims the lights and slides out the door. I hear the sound of water running, then the click of the transition room door. Greg will be walking down the corridor. I lie back and remember all the things I saw on my adventure – all the lights and doors, and the pictures of elephants and giraffes stuck to the walls. I’d like to see them again. I’d like to meet the kids who drew them.

  I jump as my phone buzzes. It’ll be Beth telling me she’s got home. I reach over and pick it up.

  They come yet? The aliens?

  Amir, where are you?

  On the landing strip.

  My heart starts pounding. Is he really here? I slide my feet off my bed and walk over to the window. There’s a man wearing a hat walking down the middle of the road. He stops and crouches down and smoothes the tarmac. What is he doing? If a bus comes along he’ll get flattened like a cartoon cat and I won’t be able to go out and blow him back up.

  The man reaches into his coat pocket and gets out his phone. He looks like he’s typing a message. Then he looks up at me.

  My phone buzzes in my hand.

  Well, it look like it ready!

  Amir, is that really you?

  Who you expect, David Beckham?

  I laugh. I can’t believe he’s here, even if he is here to see the aliens land and not me.

  He stands up and walks over to the bus stop and rests against the wall. He types and then looks up at me. My phone buzzes again.

  How are you?

  I’m OK. What about you?

  That good. I’m good. I look forward to the aliens.

  It’s been really quiet without you.

  But you got Sky TV!

  I smile down at my phone and try to think what to write next, but I don’t want to text. I’ve spent my life talking to people through screens. I want to talk to real people.

  Amir can you come up?

  I can’t

  Why not?

  He points at the CCTV cameras on the lamppost.

  Too much security

  But we did it before?

  That why we can’t

  Why not?

  You ever see anyone rob a bank twice?

  I nod. He’s right. Maybe we were lucky last time. If Jim had read a short chapter in the toilet or if Phil had got bored and checked the building backwards, we might have got caught before we’d got out of the reception doors. I wish he could come in. I know everybody thinks he’s done something wrong, but it wasn’t a crime.

  My phone buzzes again.

  Ah, what the hell!

  Amir’s standing at the kerb.

  I come. You guide me.

  Yes! I clench my fist.

  Brilliant!

  I turn away from the window.

  I’m just turning the screens on.

  I can’t stop grinning to myself. I walk over to the table and pick up the remote. The screens flicker on and light up my room. On screen 6, Jim is in the waiting area reading his book and eating sandwiches. Phil is on screen 9. He’s walking down the corridor towards the Bluebell Ward tapping a rolled-up newspaper against the wall. It looks like he’s whistling.

  I check all the other screens. Most of the corridors are empty. On the 12th floor, a nurse is talking to a porter. On the 10th floor, an African lady with a headdress is talking to a doctor outside the Butterfly Ward. I don’t think I have to worry about them. They won’t know who Amir is unless the hospital have put up a WANTED poster of him on the notice board.

  Jim clips the lid on his sandwich box. He stands up.

  Joe? Can I go?

  One minute

  Jim puts the box on the reception desk and starts to walk towards the food hall.

  OK. Now!

  Amir runs across the road into the reception area. He looks left, then right, then gives me a thumbs-up to the camera. I chuckle to myself.

  Hurry. The next corridor is clear.

  The lift?

  I switch to screen 11. There’s no one waiting for the lift but I don’t know if there’s anyone in there.

  I can’t tell

  OK. I use stairs

  Amir pushes the emergency exit doors open. We’re not robbing a bank, but this is really exciting.

  Okay. I on your floor

  I check screen 12. There’s a cleaner mopping the floor. My heart pounds in my head.

  Stop!

  What wrong?

  There’s a cleaner

  On the screen I see Amir peer out into the corridor like a mouse escaping from a cage.

  That okay. It Janet. She deaf.

  He creeps behind Janet and disappears from view.

  I can’t help him from here because this is the last camera before my room.

  I sit on my bed. I can’t wait to see him. He’s made me feel better already. I know he won’t be able to stay for long or be able to work here again, but it will be so great to talk to him.

  I wait for the door to click open. It should only take a minute but it seems so much longer than that. Maybe there’s a doctor or a nurse reading the noticeboard or looking at the kids’ paintings on the walls. Or someone sat outside guarding my room like when they put policemen outside rooms to stop reporters getting information, or to stop gangsters with machine guns bursting in to kill the patient. Maybe he’s turned back?

  The transition room door clicks open. I hold my breath. The water is running. It stops. Then I hear the hiss of the disinfectant. My door opens and I scramble off my bed . . .

  Amir walks in. His face is wet and his glasses are steamed up. I breathe out and Amir grins.

  ‘Sorry it take long,’ he says.

  ‘Was there someone outside?’

  ‘No. I burst for toilet and two nurses talk about Justin Bieber.’

  I laugh. He’s only been in my room for a few seconds and he’s already made me smile. He walks over to my table and wipes his glasses with a tissue and puts them back on. I want to hug him, but we’ve never done that.

  ‘I missed you,’ I say.

  Amir nods. ‘I miss me too. You okay?’

  ‘Yes.’ I’m not really, but it’s like all my aches and pains have gone now he’s here.

  ‘I okay too.’ He checks his watch. ‘14 minutes,’ he says. ‘Then Greg come back. You got new nurse?’

  ‘Yes. She’s nice.’

  ‘Does she believe in aliens?’

  ‘I haven’t—’

  ‘She should.’ Amir walks past me and I sit down on my bed. He looks out of the window down onto the road.

  ‘It could be smoother, but I think they land okay.’

  I lay back on my bed. I’m so glad he’s actually here, but suddenly I feel tired.

  He turns around and looks concerned.

  ‘You okay?’ He walks towards me.

  I try not to yawn.

  ‘It’s okay, I tired too.’ He sits down in the chair. ‘Because I worry about you.’

  I smile wearily. I don’t want him to worry. ‘I’m okay,’ I say. ‘The doctors have found what it is. I’m tired because of the meds.’

  Amir looks at me, then glances at the screens. Phil is talking to a porter on the 12th floor. Jim is sat by the big plant reading his book. All the other screens are quiet.

  I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and after all the time I’ve spent wishing he was here, I can’t think of what to say. Amir puts his hand inside his overalls and pulls out his phone.

  ‘It’s okay, he says. ‘No bugs. I spray it.’ He leans forward. ‘I show you pictures.’

  I strain my eyes to look at the screen.

  ‘I stand on a big white horse and take this one,’ he says.

  It’s a picture of a crop circle. I tell him it’s gre
at then he scrolls down.

  ‘This one I take in Wiltshire, this one I take in Somerset, and this one I take in Berkshire on the way home. Oh! . . . and this one I take at Legoland.’ He shows me a picture of Ajala, Shukra and Guru on a Viking boat.

  ‘It’s great,’ I say.

  He smiles at me, then looks at the ground. After talking so much, he’s suddenly gone quiet. I try and think of something to talk about, but I haven’t got any pictures to show him. All I’ve done is lie on my bed and watched TV.

  Amir looks up at me. He’s smiling but there are tears in his eyes. ‘You should have told them,’ he says.

  ‘I couldn’t. I told you. I didn’t want you to lose your job.’

  ‘No. I did my job.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I try to think clearly but my head hurts.

  ‘I take you outside.’

  He’s confusing me. His job was to be a nurse, not take me outside.

  ‘Amir . . . I don’t understand.’

  He shifts his weight on the edge of my bed. ‘I see you on TV . . . last year . . . your documentary. Bubble Boy. Me and my wife, we watch you stuck in your bubble . . . She upset, so I say, no cry . . . I take him out of his bubble!’

  ‘You saw me on the BBC show?’

  ‘Of course. I no just watch Sky!’

  I shiver. Goosebumps grow on my arms. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Did he plan this all along?

  ‘It take me a year. It would be sooner, but I have problem with your suit and Rashid had trouble hacking into CCTV.’

  I put my hands on my head. I don’t believe this. Amir grins at me.

  ‘You think I just turn up? I speak to best brains in London. But I very careful. Everyone know about you. I tell them I a qualified nurse and need help and Rashid get a research job at the All India Institute of Medical Science.’

  This doesn’t make sense. Amir didn’t come to the hospital to work. He came here to take me outside?

  ‘So you came here just for me?’

  ‘No. I come for the planes and the aliens too.’ He gets up suddenly and walks over to the window. ‘It the best view in London. Apart from London Eye but that never still.’ He looks at his watch, then down onto the street. ‘I don’t think they come tonight.’ He suddenly sounds sad.

  I walk over to the window and stand by his side. The streets are dark and empty. The buildings cast long shadows across the road and onto the pavement. Everything is still. The only thing that moves are the red lights on the planes circling over Heathrow. Amir looks at his watch again. I don’t want him to go yet. It feels like he only just arrived. I look down at the portal.

  ‘I saw them,’ I say.

  Amir turns his head slowly.

  ‘In my dream.’

  Amir smiles. ‘I like dreams,’ he says. ‘Everyone should have them. They pictures we paint in the dark.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They the best place.’ he says. ‘We do what we want. You’re a superhero in your dreams. I’m an alien in mine.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Of course. That why I so tired. I fly round the galaxy every night. It take a long time.’

  I chuckle. I’m not sure if he’s joking or not, but he’s making me laugh again. I love it when he’s like this, but it makes me wish he would never leave.

  ‘Will you come back and see me?’

  ‘Yes. Maybe not lots. But I text.’ He looks down at the street and shakes his head. ‘It the workmen fault. I think they put the magnets facing wrong way.’

  He checks his watch again. I wish he could wind the hands back thirty minutes so we could start again. I want to talk about the planes, I want to talk about Henry, I want –

  ‘Must go.’

  I’ve been dreading him saying that.

  He turns away from the window and starts to walk towards the door. I don’t want him to go, but I don’t want him to get caught either. He points at the monitors.

  ‘Don’t forget to turn them off.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He puts his hand on the door then looks back at me. ‘Hey,’ he says. ‘No worry. I be back soon.’

  I nod and take a breath. ‘Amir . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  I swallow hard.

  ‘Thank you.’

  He smiles at me. ‘No need.’

  He slides out of the door. I turn and look around the room. It’s empty and quiet now. I hope he doesn’t leave it too long before he comes back. I pick up the remote, turn the screens off. I don’t know if I’ll still have the CCTV, but I’m sure he’ll figure another way of getting up here. Maybe he’ll surprise me and one morning I’ll wake up and see him outside my window in the cleaning cradle like Rashid was. I can’t believe Amir did all this for me. He must have gone home from work and stayed up all night planning and making everything. No wonder he was always tired.

  I walk across to the window and look down at the street. Amir steps onto the pavement. He looks up at the sky, then walks down the middle of the road. I wish he wouldn’t do that. I wish he’d stay close to the shops like everyone else. But he doesn’t seem to worry about traffic. He just keeps getting smaller and smaller until he turns the corner at the end of the road and disappears.

  I look across the roofs of the buildings. The orange clock is flashing on top of the Lucozade building. The strip lights are flickering above the cars in Mercedes-Benz. And up in the sky, red lights are flashing on the planes above Heathrow. I shake my head and can’t stop myself from smiling. I think of me and Amir stood by the fence with the wind blowing through his hair and the roar of the planes. I’m glad he came back. He’s not going to be like all the rest of the nurses that come and go. After everything he’s done for me I think that maybe he’s a superhero too.

  I turn away from the window and get into my bed. The air-con clicks in. All I can see are shadows of the furniture and the red light from the monitor reflecting like tiny fires in my screens.

  Flash. Flash. Flash.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Flash. Flash. Flash.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Flash. Flash.

  Beep. Da-lute!

  The message light is flashing on my laptop. I should go to bed but I won’t be able to sleep until I know who it is. I reach over and click on the screen.

  You have a new message.

  BBC Bubble Boy Forum

  Mon 6 September, 00:34

  Dear Bubble Boy.

  Sorry to bother you so early but me and my brother have been up arguing all night. We just want to ask you a question. Who do you think would win if Superman and Spider-Man had a fight? My brother thinks Spidey would win. He says all Superman can do is fly really fast and burn through sheet metal with his eyes. But I think Superman would win because he could burn through all Spidey’s webs and all he’d have to do is pick him up and fly him into space and Spidey wouldn’t be able to breathe and he’d die.

  What do you think?

  Chris and Ben. Milton Keynes.

  I smile.

  This one is easy.

  Dear Chris and Ben.

  Spidey and Superman wouldn’t fight. They’d be friends. All they want to do is try to save the world.

  Da-lute!

  Da-lute!

  I squint my eyes in the dark. The Skype light is flashing. It says there’s a message from Henry, but it can’t be. Even NASA can’t bring Henry back to life. I pick up my laptop and hover my mouse nervously over Henry’s name. Maybe it’s Brett, but he’s only ever spoken to me on the screen. It could be that someone’s picked up Henry’s laptop while they were clearing his room.

  I want to look, but I don’t want to look. It could be a ghost! No. Ghosts can’t type, can they? Their fingers would go straight through the keyboard. Who is it? I wish it was Henry.

  I click on his name.

  Hi Joe are you there?

  01:01

  I shiver and goosebumps travel up my arms. It’s only five words but it sounds like Henry
.

  The pencil scribbles again.

  Are you?

  00:02

  I stare at the messages.

  Brett?

  00:02

  No. It’s me, Matt.

  00:03

  I blow out my cheeks.

  Matt. You scared me.

  00:03

  Why?

  00:04

  I go to type, but I can’t tell Matt I thought I was talking to his brother’s ghost.

  It’s OK.

  Did you think you were talking to a ghost?

  00:05

  Yes.

  00:05

  Haha! Henry told me you would think that.

  00:06

  Matt, where are you?

  00:06

  At home. Henry said I could have his laptop. It’s great!

  00:06

  Ha. How are you?

  00:07

  I’m okay. I miss Henry.

  00:07

  Me too.

  00:07

  I used to message him every night.

  00:08

  I know. He told me.

  00:08

  Mum said he’s okay. No bubbles in heaven.

  00:08

  I smile and want to cry at the same time.

  Can I talk to you on here instead?

  00:09

  Course. I’d like that.

  00:09

  After school though.

  00:10

  Okay.

  00:10

  I’ve got to go to bed soon.

  Henry told me to send you a message.