Jemima Small Versus the Universe

by Tamsin Winter

  “It’s not that bad, Heidi! They just do it as a joke.” Harry lifted his arm and pulled the skin to get a better look.

  “Harry, my friends would never do that,” I said. “Miki sticks up for me.” I didn’t mention the fart machine. Mrs Savage could have installed listening devices around the school. She already had CCTV up in some places apparently. “And what is funny about punching someone?”

  Harry’s cheeks went red. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

  “Oh my goodness! Harry! What happened?” Gina put down some bags she was carrying and took Harry’s arm. Harry quickly pulled his shirt back up. “Harry, what happened?” Gina asked again, looking around at us all.

  We looked at each other. But no one said anything.

  “This isn’t a one-off. Who’s been doing this to you?”

  I guess Gina noticed the bilirubin too.

  She unlocked the classroom door and said, “Come inside, Harry.”

  We waited in the corridor for about ten minutes while Gina and Harry sat talking in the classroom. Apart from Heidi, no one else really said anything.

  “And they’ve been getting him to buy them stuff from the canteen at break. I’m so worried about the camping trip,” Heidi said. “They’ll probably set his tent on fire or something! As a joke.” She moved over to the classroom door and looked through the window. “Poor Harry. What do you think Gina’s saying?”

  Brandon squashed his face up next to hers, pressing his nose against the glass. “Probably offering to make him a cauliflower smoothie.”

  Gina looked over and Brandon gave her a thumbs up through the window. She tilted her head and pretended to be mad for about a quarter of a second, then turned her smile up to the maximum. I think it’s physically impossible for Gina to be mad at anyone. Like, her body is so dense in nutrients she doesn’t have the space for it.

  “Sorry, everyone! Thank you for waiting so patiently! Come on in! Brandon, grab those shopping bags, would you?” We filed into the classroom; Heidi went straight over to Harry while Gina stood at the front saying, “So, today’s class is all about superfoods! The superheroes of food!”

  I tried not to groan too loud.

  “You’re going to be making some super simple, super delicious, super healthy recipes!” She clapped her hands each time she said “super”. It kind of felt like brainwashing. “Get into pairs, and I’ll bring you an iPad so you can watch your recipe on YouTube! And…we get to taste all of them at the end!”

  I walked with Maya to a corner kitchen as Gina handed us an iPad and a box of ingredients. Inside was a recipe card saying Courgette noodles with avocado pesto.

  “This is the fun bit!” Gina said and typed the recipe into YouTube. A woman wearing thick, black eyeliner with perfect flicks was paused on the screen. “There!” Gina said. “You’re ready to go!”

  Maya tapped the iPad and the video came to life. The cook was American, and approximately three hundred per cent more enthusiastic than Gina, which I didn’t think was physically possible. She said, “Mmmm!” and “Let’s do this!” a lot. It’s not what cooking’s like in my family. Dad shouts up the stairs for us to come and help, then he spends ages saying the recipe makes no sense. Then burns himself, then yells, “Why hasn’t anyone set the table?” and usually it ends with the smoke alarm going off. No one says “Mmmm!” at any point. Especially not when we’re eating it.

  Once everyone had finished cooking, we sat down at the big table in the centre of the classroom. There were napkins, a jug of water, some salad, sourdough bread Gina had made at home, apparently, although it looked professional to me so she could have been lying. She placed a vase of yellow roses in the middle and it was sort of really nice. For once, I didn’t care about eating in front of people at school.

  Brandon and Nate handed out their wholemeal flatbreads and pots of hummus while Gina talked enthusiastically about the incredible qualities of chickpeas like they were real superheroes. Heidi dished out the rice she and Harry had made out of a cauliflower, while Harry sat gazing out of the window. Gina said everything tasted amazing and told us about the nutritional content of courgettes. It wasn’t as boring as it sounds, because they contain potassium, which is one of my favourite chemical elements. It’s the one that burns with a lilac flame and makes a huge tower of foam if you mix it with hydrogen peroxide. Nana only let me do that experiment with her hair bleach once, but it was pretty good.

  I listened to Gina talking about cauliflower and tried not to yawn. She knew so much about food she could probably audition for Brainiacs if she wasn’t already too old. She looked about the same age as my dad, but maybe she wasn’t that old. She could have aged prematurely because she smiled so much.

  When the bell went, Gina said, “Jemima, would you mind staying behind for a sec?”

  I thought I was in trouble to begin with, but she handed me a small parcel wrapped in green paper.

  “I heard it’s your birthday on Sunday, so here’s a little gift from me.”

  “Erm, thanks. Who told you it’s my birthday?”

  Gina smiled practically one hundred per cent. “Oh, just a little birdie!”

  I guessed she must have accessed my school record. I wasn’t totally sure it was allowed.

  “It’s also to wish you luck at the Brainiacs Selection Day. What with half-term, I won’t see you before then. I expect you’re glad to be getting a break from my class! But listen” – she perched on the edge of the table – “there’ll be a lot of other kids at the competition. Maybe you’ll have some eyes on you. But remember, you’ve earned your place just like they have, maybe even with a higher score. So hold your head up, you hear me?”

  “Thanks, Gina,” I said, and I felt her words swelling up inside me, like my heart was listening.

  On the way out I stopped and turned round. “I do like your classes, by the way.” I felt kind of stupid, in case she thought I only said it because of the present. But I hoped she knew I wouldn’t do that. And definitely not before I’d opened it.

  “What did you get?” Lottie whispered to me that afternoon in maths as Mrs Lee handed out our test papers from last lesson. I could see ninety-six per cent written on Lottie’s paper in green ink, and Mrs Lee’s swirly writing saying, Excellent!

  I wasn’t afraid of Lottie. Not in the normal sense. I just got this prickly feeling in my chest anytime she spoke to me. Like being stung by a jellyfish. They have these special cells in their tentacles containing venom that can go through your skin in a matter of milliseconds. Lottie seemed to have them on her tongue.

  I covered my test paper with my elbow and said, “Ninety.” I stupidly thought it might make her leave me alone.

  Lottie smiled so hard her face almost cracked open. She picked up her test and fanned herself. “I got ninety-six! Maybe you should have revised instead of…” She waited until Mrs Lee was on the other side of the classroom. “Eating so much.”

  Lottie turned back to face the front. I moved my elbow off my test paper and looked again at what Mrs Lee had written. 100% See me for some higher papers!

  “Why didn’t you tell her your real score?” Erin whispered. “She’s so annoying!”

  I shrugged and looked back at Lottie. She was smiling at herself in the mirror on her pencil case. Erin was right. Even the back of Lottie’s head was annoying.

  Mrs Lee tapped the screen and a series of equations with unknown quantities appeared.

  “Now, before we start, I want to say a special well done to Erik and Jemima, both of whom scored one hundred per cent in the test!”

  My cheeks flushed as everybody started clapping. Lottie whipped her head round and glared at me. I felt that stinging feeling in my chest, then noticed Afzal and Jaz smiling at me from the other side of the classroom.

  Erin showed me the sixty-four per cent written on her paper and whispered, “I wish I was like you!”

  And something happened in my stomach. Like someone had ignited a tiny flame. I leaned forward. “Don
’t worry, Lottie.” I smiled. “Brains aren’t everything.” And I accidentally trod on her foot on the way up to solve the first equation.

  It was the first Saturday of half-term, the day before my birthday, and I’d spent the entire morning revising. The Brainiacs Selection Day was only nine days away and I still had advanced spelling, ancient history and world literature to cover. It was going to be a long week.

  When I went downstairs, the front door was wide open and Dad was putting Luna’s fold-up table into the boot of her car. I still had my nightie on, so I didn’t go outside.

  “My psychic energy feels so strong today!” Luna was saying. She immediately turned round, like she could sense me, and walked inside. “I’m doing a psychic fair in Saltford Village today! Want to come?”

  Dad quickly followed behind her. “Jemima’s probably got homework to do. And studying for Brainiacs. Besides, I don’t want her head filling with…”

  Luna put her hands on her hips.

  “Distractions.”

  “Oh, come on, Rion! It’s her birthday tomorrow! And the first day of half-term! She’s got all week to revise. It’s only for a few hours.” Luna looked at me. “Fancy it?”

  “Well,” Dad said, “would you like to go with Luna? I was hoping we’d go to Nana’s this afternoon. There’s a tea dance on.”

  I thought about it for approximately zero seconds.

  “Great!” Luna said. “There’ll be crystal healing, and reiki, and spiritual guides, aromatherapy, and Willow’s bringing her vegan burger van!”

  “Can Miki come?” I asked.

  Luna said, “Sure!” just as the smoke alarm started going off.

  Dad ran into the kitchen, shouting, “With all your psychic energy floating about, you’d think you’d notice the toast’s burning!”

  A few minutes later, at the kitchen table, Dad put a plate of half-burned toast and mashed avocado in front of me and sat down. “Listen, Jem…”

  I didn’t need to be psychic to know he was starting one of his lectures.

  “I can’t eat burned toast. It’s bad for you,” I said. “It’s got acrylamide in it.”

  “No, avocado,” Dad said, laughing. “Now, listen. Luna and her friends at these psychic fairs have lots of very interesting ideas about the world. Same as your nana. Anyway, as you know, I don’t share their—”

  “Gift?” I said.

  Dad smiled. “Exactly. Their gift. And I don’t really want you sharing it either. These fairs attract some right weirdos. Luna’s under strict instructions not to let you speak to any spiritual guides or witches or ghosts or whatever.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad. It’s not Halloween yet.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I took out my phone and tapped the screen. “Miki says he’ll come.”

  “Good! I’m glad someone sensible’s going along!” It was typical of my dad to call someone with a fart machine sensible.

  I walked over to the bread bin to make some more toast and Dad gave me a strange look.

  “Erm, Jemima! I know people at these fairs dress a little crazy. I mean, look at Luna. And I wouldn’t normally tell you what to wear, you know. Wear whatever you want round the house! But…that dress you’ve got on. I mean, it’s a nice dress! You do look nice. I just don’t know if it’s right for the fair.”

  “Dad, it’s my nightie.”

  “Ha! Okay! Good! Right! Get dressed then.” He couldn’t get out of the kitchen fast enough.

  I waited until Dad had driven off, then I went upstairs and sat in front of the mirror. I carefully applied Electric Energy Hair Chalk to each section of my hair until it resembled a rainbow. A rainbow plugged into fluorescent lighting. I stood up and twirled around 360 degrees. Maybe the chemicals in hair chalk did something strange to your eyes. Because I looked okay. Sort of better than okay.

  I took a selfie and sent it to Miki saying: you ready???

  He messaged back: omg!!!!

  I pulled on some leggings and a yellow dress with a triangle pattern that Luna had made me a while ago. I liked it because the fabric was stretchy, and it came down past my knees. Plus, the triangles were all equilateral. Which meant, if I got bored, I could practise geometry. I picked up my cardigan and went downstairs.

  Luna’s mouth dropped open. “Jemima! Your hair!”

  “Does it look okay?” I fiddled with a bright orange strand next to my face.

  Luna put her hands on my cheeks. “It looks amazing! Like a rainbow! But…you know your dad is going to kill you, right?”

  “I’ll wash it out as soon as we get back, so he’ll never know. Anyway, I’m thirteen tomorrow. I can dye my hair how I like when I’m thirteen.”

  Luna whisked me out of the front door, down the drive, through the gate and into her car in one graceful movement. That’s the thing about Luna. She makes everything seem magical.

  When we got to Miki’s house, his mum said, “Wow, Jemima! I love your hair!”

  “Arigatou gozaimasu,” I said, scraping my hair to one side.

  “Miki said your Auntie Luna does psychic readings. I have to get her number.”

  Miki came downstairs and stood in the doorway. His mum ruffled his hair.

  “Jemima wa kyou mo kawaii ne, huh?”

  Miki nodded as Niko walked over to Luna’s car.

  “She said you look pretty,” Miki said. “Jem, your hair looks phosphorescent!”

  “Er, thanks. Why are you speaking like that?”

  “Thought you’d like it! Mum got me this app called Word Doctor. You type in a word and bigger words come up that mean the same thing. I’m going to use it all the time from now on!”

  “I don’t know, Miki,” I said, walking back to the car. “You just told me my hair looks like it’s been exposed to radiation.”

  Miki laughed. “Oh my God! This app is more awesome than I realized!”

  “Have fun, you two!” Niko called as we drove off.

  “Thanks, Mum!” Miki called out the window, tapping his phone. “Have a humongous day!”

  We drove for about half an hour, and Luna stopped outside a village hall with a sign up saying: The Eyes of the Universe Psychic Fair. It didn’t take long to help carry Luna’s stuff inside because she doesn’t have that much equipment. She says the only special equipment she needs are her tarot cards and The Gift which she inherited from Nana. The same as her folding table.

  Miki wandered around, and stopped at a stall selling dreamcatchers while I wrote Luna’s sign.

  In each corner I drew a shooting star. Luna opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then changed her mind.

  “Thank you so much for helping. Now, I need a moment of peace to channel my energy.” She handed me some money. “Here. Enjoy yourself!”

  I found Miki near a stall draped in purple fabric with a huge statue of Buddha in the centre. He elbowed me and pointed to an old lady sitting at a table opposite. Her sign said:

  I accidentally made eye contact and Mystic Avani leaned forward, like she was going to tell us all the secrets of the universe. I remembered what Dad said about not speaking to spiritual guides and tried to work out if palm readers came under that classification.

  “Come on!” Miki said, tugging my arm. “I’ve never had my fortune told before!”

  Before I had a chance to protest, Miki had sat down and the old lady was holding his left hand. I pulled a chair out and sat down next to him.

  “Ah, a water hand!”

  Miki looked at me. I shrugged.

  “An artist!” Mystic Avani said and peered into Miki’s palm like it was a deep well. “You have great gifts, my child. Tremendous gifts.” She patted his hand with hers. “You’re talented, kind, joyful! Cherish these gifts!” She carried on talking, moving her finger over his hand, talking about heart lines and head lines and what they signified.

  I knew about the lines on your hand. I’d read about them in my human anatomy book. They’re called palmer flexion creases. They’re
so you can stretch and scrunch up your hand. But I doubted Mystic Avani cared about what it said in human anatomy books.

  “Be confident,” she said to Miki. “Your destiny is on the stage.” She bowed her head.

  “Did you hear that?” Miki said. “The stage! That is so weird.”

  “Yeah, spooky.” I didn’t mention he was wearing a hoodie saying: WARNING! I break out into show tunes.

  I was about to stand up when the old lady grabbed my hand and pulled it towards her. She held it firmly and examined it like a Petri dish.

  “What is it?” I asked, but she slowly shook her head.

  “Nothing, my child. End of reading.” She bowed her head again and I noticed her earrings were shaped like hands, with tiny eyeballs in the centre. Like my nana’s tattoo.

  “Did you see something in my hand?” I asked. “Is it bad?”

  It had to be bad because she wouldn’t tell me. I already knew from Luna that psychics don’t give negative readings. I picked a card called Death once and Luna even managed to make that sound positive.

  Mystic Avani leaned forward and looked at me for a long time. Like I was a puzzle she had to figure out. She took my hand again and I looked into her eyes. They were deep brown and full of energy, like stars exploding. It was as though the whole universe was looking back at me. Tiny specks of dust floated in the sunlight between us. She lifted my hand up, then closed it, like she was trying to catch the light.

  “You’ll find what you’ve been looking for, child.” Then she let go.

  Logic told me my hand couldn’t reveal my future. But weirdly, when I looked down at my hand, it felt like those tiny lines etched into my skin were more precious than ever.

  Outside the psychic fair, Miki and I sat by Willow’s vegan burger van while Luna was telling her last fortune of the day inside. No one gave me a second glance. Maybe because my rainbow hair was kind of conservative compared to how some people looked. One man had tattoos covering every centimetre of his face. Dad would totally freak out if I did that.