by Sara Gethin
The man says, ‘Don’t worry. Don’t worry. They just want their breakfast. They won’t hurt you.’
Miss is holding Nadia’s hand. She is trying to hold Eddie’s hand too but he’s still running away. The man is saying we must take the food out of the bags and put it on our hands. We must hold our hands out flat and let the goats eat from our flat hands.
‘Careful,’ the goat man says. ‘They’re a bit lively in the morning. And hungry too.’
I’m trying to put my hand into the bag to get some food. A big goat is right next to me. He has bulgy white eyes. The little black bits in his eyes are watching me. He looks very cross. I’m trying to get some food for him. I’m putting my hand into the bag but he is pulling at it. He’s pulling with his big yellow teeth. He’s making a hole in the bag. All the food is falling out of the hole. He’s eating the food off the floor.
All the goats are looking for bits on the floor now. Everyone’s bags are empty. ‘There we are,’ the man says. ‘Put the bags in the bin by the gate.’
‘Come on,’ Miss says. ‘I think the goats have enjoyed their breakfast.’ We’re going to the gate. I’m holding the white paper bag.
‘Look!’ Nadia says. We’re turning round. We’re looking where Nadia’s pointing. The big goat is running after us. He’s running fast. He’s running round and round us. He’s trying to jump up at me. I’m running round and round too. I’m trying to run away from him.
‘Over here, Tomos,’ Miss says. She’s trying to catch up with me. The big goat is chasing me. He’s going in front of me now. I’m turning round. He’s going behind me. He won’t leave me alone. I can’t get away from him.
‘It’s all right,’ the goat man says. ‘He’s just being friendly.’ The man has gone through the gate. Another group is waiting to feed the goats. The man is giving bags of food to them.
Miss is trying to get to me but the goat won’t let her. He’s standing in the way. ‘Give it to him.’ Miss is shouting it over the goat’s back.
‘What?’ I say.
‘Give him the bag.’
‘This?’ I’m holding up the bag. ‘We have to put them in the bin.’ The goat is jumping up at me. I’m moving the bag away from him.
‘Just give it to him,’ Miss says.
‘Look,’ a loud voice is shouting. ‘That goat is going to kill Tomos.’ I know that voice. It is Wes’s voice. I can hear him laughing now. And the goat is jumping up again. He’s knocking me over. He’s standing on top of me. His feet are hard and pointy. They’re hurting my legs. He’s pulling at the empty bag. He’s trying to pull it out of my hand. He’s pulling and pulling.
‘Let go,’ Miss says. I’m letting go of the bag. The goat is holding it in his yellow teeth. He’s looking at me with the black bits in his eyes. And he’s pulling the bag into his mouth. He’s pulling it in with his long pink tongue. He’s looking down at me with his cross eyes. And he’s chewing with his big yellow teeth. Miss is pushing the goat. She’s pushing him off me. The goat is running away. Miss is grabbing my hand. She’s pulling me up. ‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘He’s gone now. You’re fine.’ She’s rubbing the dirt off the back of my coat. We’re walking to the gate.
‘Ha, ha,’ Wes says. He’s pointing to me. He’s with some other children. Bethany’s mammy is looking after them all. ‘A goat nearly ate you.’
‘Shhh, Wes,’ Miss says.
‘Yes,’ Bethany’s mammy says. It’s very hard to hear her. ‘Quiet, Wes.’
Miss is holding my hand. She’s finding Eddie and she’s holding his hand too. ‘Right, are we all here?’ She’s looking at Nadia and Kaylee and Rhys and Taylor. ‘Good.’ We’re starting to walk away from the field full of goats. Miss is looking back at Bethany’s mammy. ‘We’re going to see the guinea pigs next.’ Miss is making her eyebrows go up high. ‘I’m hoping that won’t be so terrifying.’
* * *
We’ve seen lots of animals at the zoo. We’ve seen sheep and baby sheep called lambs in a place called the barn. Some of them were jumping up. Some of them were sleeping in the hay. The lamb man said they like sleeping in the hay when they’re little. And they jump a lot when they’re bigger. We’ve seen guinea pigs and we’ve had a ride on a tractor too. It was a blue tractor. And we’ve walked round the pond. It was a very big pond. My legs are very tired from walking round it. And we fed the ducks that live on the big big pond.
Miss has told us to sit in the shelter. We’re sitting on benches. There are lots and lots of benches and tables too. They are made out of wood. We’re having our packed lunches. I’m sitting with Nadia and Kaylee and Rhys and Taylor and Eddie. Wes is sitting on the next table. He’s with some children I don’t know. I’m eating my ham sandwiches from the brown bag Mrs Jenkins from school gave me. I’m eating the tuna mayo and sweetcorn sandwiches Miss brought too. There’s a big box of them. Nadia and Kaylee and Taylor and Rhys and Eddie are having some too. We’re all having lots. They’re lovely.
‘Right,’ Miss says. She’s putting the lid on the box because it’s empty. ‘Finish your biscuits. Then we’re going to see the deer.’
I’m looking for my chocolate biscuit. I’m looking for it in my paper bag then I remember. ‘I haven’t got a biscuit,’ I say. ‘Wes took it.’
Miss looks cross. ‘That Wes.’ She’s getting something out of her bag. It’s a box of cakes. They have white icing and a cherry on the top. ‘Have one of these.’ Miss is letting us all have a cake. They’re very nice. We’re licking the icing off them.
Wes is coming over to our table. ‘Can I have one of those?’ He’s picking up the box and he’s looking at the picture on it. There are no cakes left in it now.
‘You’ve had enough already,’ Miss says. ‘I hear you’ve been stealing other people’s food.’
‘Haven’t,’ Wes says.
‘You took my biscuit,’ I say. ‘On the bus.’
‘I only borrowed it.’
‘Go and get it then,’ Miss says. ‘And give it back.’
‘Can’t. I ate it.’
‘Well, that’s not borrowing,’ Miss says. ‘If you borrow something, you have to be able to give it back.’
‘Like our school library books,’ Nadia says. ‘We have to give those back.’
Miss is nodding. ‘Exactly, Nadia. And if we kept them, then that would be stealing.’
‘I didn’t steal his biscuit,’ Wes says. ‘I’m borrowing it.’
Miss is letting out a big breath. ‘Go back to your own seat, Wes.’ She isn’t smiling at him.
‘Mrs Roly said I could come over.’ Wes is pointing over to Bethany’s mammy. She’s sitting on the bench and her legs are squashed in under the table. Her face is red. She has very big arms. They are red too.
‘You mean Mrs Rowlands,’ Miss says.
‘Yeah, Mrs Roly-Poly,’ Wes says.
‘Don’t be rude, Wes.’ Miss looks very cross. ‘Or I’ll ask Mrs Pugh to move you into her own group.’
‘Mrs Pugh won’t do that,’ Wes says. ‘She doesn’t want me in her group.’ He’s throwing down the empty box of cakes.
‘Go back to your table, Wes,’ Miss says. ‘I’m not asking you again.’
Wes is going back to his table. He’s looking over his shoulder at us. He’s staring at Miss. She’s tidying up our table. ‘Slag,’ he says.
Miss is looking up. ‘What did you say?’
Wes is smiling at her. ‘Nothing.’
Nadia says, ‘He said sla—’
‘It’s okay, Nadia,’ Miss says. ‘Let’s just ignore him.’
* * *
We are standing in a big line. We’re standing outside the shop. We are all mixed up. I was with Eddie and Junior and Rhys. We were in the toilets for boys. But I can’t see them now. Miss is with Nadia and Kaylee in the toilets for girls. There’s a long line for their toilets. I’m standing next to Wes. Mrs Pugh Year Two is standing by the shop door. We have been at the zoo a long time. It’s nearly time to go home.
‘You
can only go into the shop if you’ve got money to spend,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two is saying. ‘You can’t go in to cause trouble.’ Her eyes are looking at us all. They’re looking down the line of us. They’ve stopped on me. ‘You. Tomos Morris.’ She’s pointing her finger at me. ‘Have you got money to spend?’ Her eyes are looking and looking at me. ‘Well,’ she says. ‘Have you?’ My fingers are in my pocket. They can feel my coin. I’m nodding my head. ‘That’s all right then. The first five can go in.’ She is counting us. Wes is number four. I am number five. ‘Three minutes,’ she says. ‘And don’t touch anything you can’t afford.’
We’re going into the shop. There are lots of things everywhere. There are things hanging down and things piled up. There are lots of toys in boxes. Everything is yellow and red and silver and blue.
‘What’s wrong, thicko?’ Wes is a long way away from me. He’s standing by a big tower of boxes. There are cars in the boxes. I’m still by the door. ‘Come on,’ he says.
‘No shouting,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. She is shouting it. She’s standing by the door and she’s watching us. ‘And NO TOUCHING ANYTHING YOU CAN’T AFFORD.’
Wes is taking a box off the tower of cars. The tower’s wobbling a bit. I’m going over to Wes. I’m looking at the cars too. I’m not touching them. ‘See these.’ He’s pointing to the cars. ‘I’ve got loads of them. More than all these.’
‘Have you got a red one?’ I say. I’m looking at a red car. It’s in a black box. It looks nice. I’m wondering if it’s something I can afford.
‘I’ve got loads of red ones. They’re crappy.’ He’s putting the box back on the tower. It’s wobbling again. ‘Silver ones are best.’
‘One minute left,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. ‘Hurry up.’
Wes is going away from the cars. I’m going with him. We’ve come to some plastic animals. ‘Have they got crocodiles?’ Wes is pushing his hand into the box of animals. I’m looking at Mrs Pugh Year Two. She’s not looking at Wes. She’s pointing to someone outside the shop. I’m looking at the animals again. I can see a goat. It’s got black bits in its eyes.
‘Go to the till now,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. ‘Your time’s up.’ Wes is grabbing lots of animals. He has a cow and a dog and a sheep and some ducks.
‘That’s five pounds, please,’ the lady at the till says. She’s putting Wes’s animals into a paper bag. Wes is holding some money out to the lady. The lady’s looking at Wes’s hand. ‘You’ve got one pound there. You can have one animal for that.’ She’s tipping the animals out of the paper bag. Wes is picking up a cow. The lady’s putting it back in the bag. Wes is giving her his pound.
I’m taking the plastic goat to the till. ‘I’ll wait for you,’ Wes says. He’s standing next to me. He’s looking at the things by the till. He’s touching some of them. I’m looking to see if Mrs Pugh Year Two has seen him. She’s looking another way.
‘Thanks, Wes.’ I’m holding up the goat. The lady’s looking at it.
‘One pound, please,’ she says. She’s taking the goat from me. She’s putting it in a paper bag.
‘I haven’t got a pound,’ I say. My fingers can feel the coin in my pocket.
The lady is tipping the goat out of the bag. ‘How much have you got?’
‘Fifty pence.’
Wes is laughing. ‘Only fifty pence. Thicko.’
The lady’s looking at Wes. She’s not smiling. ‘Well, let’s see. What could you have for that?’ She’s looking at all the things on her table. ‘You could have a postcard. They’re thirty pence. There’s one with a goat on it.’ She’s holding out a postcard to me.
I’m taking it. ‘Thank you,’ I say. I’m getting my coin out of my pocket and I’m giving it to the lady.
‘Oh goodness.’ She’s looking at my coin. She’s turning it over on her hand. ‘I haven’t seen one of these for years.’
‘Wesley,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two is saying. ‘Have you paid?’
‘Yes,’ Wes says.
‘Come out of the shop then.’ Wes is going out. There’s just me in the shop now. And the lady.
She’s turning my coin over again. ‘It’s an old fifty pence. You can’t spend these anymore.’
‘I haven’t got a new one,’ I say.
‘Where did you get it?’ She’s still holding my coin.
‘The lady next door gave it to me. For Christmas.’
The lady’s looking down at her hand. ‘Have this back, love. Keep it safe.’ She’s giving me my coin. ‘It could be worth a lot of money one day when you’re as old as me.’ She’s smiling. I’m taking my coin back.
‘Tomos Morris, your time’s up,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two is saying. ‘Come out. You’ve had long enough.’ Some more children are coming into the shop. I’m giving the postcard back to the lady.
‘Keep it,’ the lady says. She’s saying it quietly. She’s smiling again. ‘You can have the postcard on me.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Thank you very much.’ I’m putting my coin back in the pocket in my trousers. I’m smiling at the lady. I’m taking my postcard out of the shop. I’m waiting outside with Wes and Mrs Pugh Year Two. We’re waiting for the rest of the children to go into the shop. And for some to come out. I’m looking at my postcard. There’s lots of blue sky on it. And a big goat like the goat that chased me. The goat is showing his scary yellow teeth. He’s laughing and laughing with his big teeth. He looks like he’s laughing at me. And I’m putting the postcard away. I’m putting it away fast. I am putting it away in my coat pocket.
* * *
We are standing in a big line again. It’s the line to get on the bus. We’ve been waiting a long time. I want to sit down because my legs are very tired. But we are not allowed.
Miss has gone to look for the bus driver. Mrs Pugh Year Two is very cross with him. ‘He said to be here on the dot of two and here we are. And no sign of him.’ She’s saying it to Bethany’s mammy. ‘He has to drop us off and then go and do the secondary school run. He kept saying we couldn’t be late or we’d mess up his schedule. And look!’ She’s waving her arms round. ‘Where is he?’
Bethany’s mammy is lifting her shoulders. Mrs Pugh Year Two said Bethany’s mammy must keep an eye on Wes. But she’s not keeping an eye on him. She’s just sitting on the grass. Her face is pink and wet. And Wes is standing next to me.
‘This is boring,’ he says. I’m nodding. My legs are very tired. My eyes are tired too. ‘Let’s play a game,’ he says.
‘What game?’ I think I am too tired to play a game.
‘Chase.’
I’m too tired to play chase. ‘We’re not allowed to move,’ I say.
‘Where on earth is the driver?’ Mrs Pugh Year Two is saying with her loud voice. ‘And where has Mrs Davies got to?’ She’s looking back down the path. ‘Where are they?’ She’s walking down the path a bit. She’s trying to see them.
‘Hide and seek,’ Wes says. ‘Go hide. I’ll come and find you.’
‘We’re not allowed to move,’ I say. ‘Mrs Pugh Year Two said.’
‘She’s not even looking. Go on. Quick.’ He’s pushing me out of the line. ‘Go on, thicko. Mrs Pugh won’t mind.’
Mrs Pugh Year Two isn’t looking at me. I think Wes is right. She won’t mind if we play for a bit. I’m running behind the bus. I’m only going to hide for a minute. Wes is running after me. ‘That’s a rubbish place to hide,’ he says. I’m trying to think of a better place.
Seren is putting her head round the side of the bus. ‘We’re not allowed to move.’
‘Shut up,’ Wes says to her. He’s grabbed a lot of stones from the car park floor. He’s throwing them at her.
‘Telling Mrs Pugh.’ She’s gone back round the bus.
‘Quick!’ Wes says. ‘Run and hide!’
‘No,’ I say. ‘We’re not allowed.’
‘Quick!’ He’s pushing me.
‘We can’t.’
He’s pushing me again. ‘Quick!’ He’s pushing and pushing me. ‘Mrs Pugh w
ill catch us. Run!’
I don’t want her to catch us.
We are running. We are running away from the line of children. We can’t see them. They’re on the other side of the bus. We’re running away from Mrs Pugh Year Two.
We have run a long way. We’ve run past the field of goats. We’ve run past the ducks and the big big pond. We’re at the barn. ‘Hide!’ Wes says. ‘Hide!’
I know a good place to hide. I’m running inside the barn and I’m finding a big pile of hay. I’m lying down on it. I’m pulling the hay all round me and on top of me. I’m inside the big pile of hay.
‘Wes?’ I’m saying it quietly. I don’t want Mrs Pugh Year Two to hear me. Wes is very quiet. I can’t hear him at all. ‘Wes? When can we come out?’ I’m listening and listening but I can’t hear Wes. I can hear the sheep and the lambs. I’m listening and listening. And listening and listening. But I can’t hear Wes. My legs are very tired. My eyes are tired too. ‘Wes? Wes?’ I’m listening and listening. And listening and listening. My eyes are closing.
And I can’t hear Wes at all.
* * *
I am running. I’m running fast fast fast. I’m running to get away from the crocodile and the monkeys and the goat.
The crocodile is very slow and the monkeys are too. But the goat is running fast. He’s chasing me with his big bulgy eyes and his sharp feet. He wants to knock me over. He wants to stand on me again. I’m running away and I’m trying to hide but Mrs Pugh Year Two is stopping me. She’s making me stand still. She’s saying, ‘Stupid kid, Tomos Morris.’ She’s saying and saying it. And I am trying to say, ‘The goat is coming’ but she isn’t listening. She is just saying, ‘Stupid kid, stupid kid.’ And her pointy teeth are yellow like the goat’s teeth. And her breath is stinky.
The crocodile is catching up. And the monkeys are too. They’re running round and round and round and round me. And the goat is laughing and laughing. ‘You’re going to get eaten,’ the goat says. The crocodile is showing me his sharp sharp teeth and the monkeys are showing me their teeth too. And the goat is laughing and laughing and laughing.
Mrs Pugh Year Two tells the goat to be quiet. She tells the crocodile to go away. And the monkeys too. They’re all running away. They’re all hiding from Mrs Pugh Year Two. She is smiling at me. She’s smiling with her pointy teeth and her stinky breath. And she’s growing. She’s growing as big as the BFG in my library book. She’s huge. And she’s smiling and smiling at me. She says, ‘Would you like a biscuit?’ She is holding one. It’s like the ones Miss gave me to eat in the holidays. But it is a giant biscuit. Mrs Pugh Year Two is picking me up. She’s putting me on the biscuit. I am trying to eat it but Mrs Pugh Year Two is shaking me too much. She’s opening and opening her mouth. I’m moving up and up. I’m moving towards her mouth and she’s going to swallow the biscuit. She’s going to swallow me too.