The Day the Ear Fell Off

by T. M. Alexander

  Mr Morris ran up the stairs and we were left with the Head.

  ‘Right, Bee. Do you have anything you’d like to tell me?’

  Bee pushed her fringe out of her eyes and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  ‘Shall I give you a hint?’

  Bee did a big swallow that made her neck look like a turkey’s and said, ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Let’s see . . . It’s most often grey, we use it all the time . . .’

  Bee looked frozen with terror. So the Head stopped and turned on me.

  ‘Perhaps Keener could help?’

  My turn to be quizzed. Would I crack under pressure?

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Why do you think I’ve picked on Bee this day of all days? Earth Day.’

  ‘Because we’ve given the statue a new ear,’ didn’t seem to be the answer. Nor was, ‘Because you shouldn’t dismember elephants on Earth Day?’ likely to be what she was looking for.

  ‘Because she’s . . .’ My mouth was ahead of my brain. I had no idea what to say. And then all of a sudden I did . . .

  ‘Because she’s into environmental things. Because she’s made a recycling box in our classroom for all the cardboard we bring in our packed lunches. Because it’s the sort of thing Earth Day’s all about.’

  Yippee! Not about the ear.

  ‘Well done, Keener. On the ball as usual. Bee, Miss Walsh told me about your initiative and it occurred to me you would be an excellent person to champion a Go Green project within the school. Have a look at the Earth Day website and come and talk to me next week. Keener can be your second-in-command.’

  ‘Thank you very much,’ I said.

  ‘Great!’ said Bee. ‘Really great!’

  When we got to the patch, Bee had the others in stitches explaining how she thought the Head was on about the ear. Good job we didn’t confess.

  There was even more laughing about Jonno’s substitution, which they’d all spotted.

  ‘We should do it to other things,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Add beards to the paintings in the hall.’

  ‘Change the teachers’ names on the classroom doors,’ said Bee.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be bad stuff. We could make up challenges,’ I said.

  ‘Same,’ said Fifty. ‘Getting Copper Pie out of trouble is fine, but we don’t need to start making problems for ourselves.’

  ‘I know, we could make things better . . . sort out all the litter in the playground . . . do something for charity . . . stop Callum’s lot barging into the little ones’ games. If we work together, we could really change things,’ said Bee. Her eyes were all shiny and mad-looking.

  ‘Yeah. We could be a proper gang with weapons . . . and tattoos,’ said Copper Pie.

  I rolled my eyes at exactly the same time as Fifty. I was on the downward roll when I noticed Jonno was rolling his too. Great minds think alike!

  ‘And code words and rules and a motto,’ I said.

  ‘We could all have jobs,’ Fifty said. ‘Let’s work out who can do what.’

  Everyone started shouting out what they were good at and what the rest of us were bad at. Most of it was stupid.

  BEST AT:

  WORST AT:

  C. P.:

  Running very fast

  Red hair jokes

  FIFTY:

  Making fires

  Putting out fires

  KEENER:

  Being teacher’s pet

  Wrestling

  BEE:

  Being bossy

  Being bossed

  JONNO:

  Statue repair

  Marmite

  Bee said, ‘As I’m the bossy one, I say let’s work out who does what when the gang’s properly sorted out.’

  ‘I don’t want us to be a gang,’ said Jonno.

  What did he mean? Of course we should be a gang. It’s brilliant. We could have a ceremony and swear to die for each other . . . press our bloody thumbs together and pledge our allegiance. (Not with real blood though, urghh!)

  ‘Why not?’ said Copper Pie.

  ‘People don’t like gangs. They’re evil.’

  ‘How about a club?’ I said.

  ‘Geek,’ said Bee. ‘Clubs are for chess.’

  ‘Got it,’ said Jonno. ‘Why don’t we form a tribe? Tribes are more serious, more loyal and they have rituals and if you’ve joined you can never leave. It would be special wouldn’t it? A tribe.’

  ‘You mean bongo drums and sacrifices?’ said Copper Pie. Trust him.

  Jonno gave him a funny look but didn’t say anything, so I did. ‘A tribe doesn’t mean witch doctors and spears. A tribe is a name for a group of people who respect each other and share the same way of life and live in peace alongside other tribes.’ There were trust-Keener-to-know looks all round. ‘In lots of tribes everyone is equal. There’s a chief but he doesn’t sit around doing nothing and have servants. He does the same as everyone else. And tribes have a strong idea of what makes them different from everyone not in their tribe. That’s good too. We’ve always been different, haven’t we?’

  ‘You mean because we’ve never bothered with the rest of the class?’ said Fifty.

  ‘Yes. And loyalty is a really important part of being in a tribe and we’re definitely loyal or we wouldn’t have mended Charles Stratton, would we?’

  ‘Tribe,’ said Fifty as though he was trying it out. ‘OK. I’m for it.’

  ‘Copper Pie?’ said Jonno.

  ‘If it means you’re gonna get me out of the poo every time, yep, I’m in.’

  ‘Bee?’

  ‘I’m not sure I get it but I definitely don’t want to be left out . . . so yes. In. But I’m not wearing a grass skirt.’

  I couldn’t wait for Jonno to ask me. I wasn’t going to be Keener any more – the quiet hard-working boy with the floppy blond hair who’s never ever had a detention. I was going to be Keener of Tribe. It felt like my life was starting. In one day everything had changed. I knew I was part of something amazing. I just knew.

  ‘Count me in,’ I said in a big bold voice, twice as loud as normal. You see, it was starting already.

  Alley Cats

  a bit of bother

  I didn’t expect to have anything to report so quickly, but finding a second problem to sort out didn’t take any time at all. The day after we formed Tribe, in the tiny gap between leaving school and getting to mine for the first Tribe powwow, Copper Pie and Jonno managed to run into trouble.

  There were loads of important things to decide at the meeting like: a den outside school, code words for when non-Tribers were listening and a manifesto (Bee’s grand idea – I think it’s something to do with having an important purpose, like saving the planet, that you write down and keep as a reminder). I’d thought of more things too: a time capsule (we could put my notebook about Tribe in it together with other stuff about us – like fact files and photos), a magazine, and maybe even a promise we all have to say, like at Scouts.

  Bee arrived at six o’clock, as agreed. I asked Amy (my fifteen-year-old sister) to send the others up to my room when they came.

  ‘It will be a pleasure, little bro,’ she said. ‘Especially if you stay there.’

  Mum had a late surgery. She does every Thursday. Amy walks me and Flo home. I like Thursdays because Amy and Flo always have girly time – painting nails or hair plaiting – and I get to do what I want with no interruptions.

  ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ she shouted as we disappeared upstairs.

  ‘What’s your sister done to her face?’ asked Bee.

  I shrugged.

  ‘Well, something’s different.’

  ‘She’s got a boyfriend.’

  ‘Mank. That must be it. Snogging. I’m never doing that.’

  ‘Nor me.’

  Copper Pie and Fifty arrived together at 6:07 p.m.

  ‘Where do you think Jonno is?’ I asked.

  ‘Got lost maybe,’ said Fifty.

  ‘He’s
been here before.’

  ‘Maybe he dropped his glasses down a drain and is trying to hook —’

  Bee cut Fifty off. ‘Copper Pie, has your mum had the letter from school yet? The one about strangling Jonno.’

  ‘Came this morning. Postman gave it to me, luckily.’

  ‘Why is that lucky?’ said Fifty.

  I knew the answer before it came. Copper Pie had pocketed it. Normally I’d worry about something like that but I just wanted to get on. Ideas were queuing up in my head, waiting to be let out: we could keep a register, get matching T-shirts made, have membership cards . . .

  ‘Maybe we should ring Jonno?’ I said.

  ‘Stop clucking, Keener. He’s only . . . twelve minutes late. Take a chill pill.’

  I never have a clever reply to throw back at Bee.

  ‘Did you get it in the neck last night for being late?’ Copper Pie asked her. She’d obviously gone round to his. She’s always getting told off for not coming home. The thing is she doesn’t like going home that much. Her mum and dad have got money problems (Mum says that means no-money problems) and they row all the time (Copper Pie says) and her twin brothers won’t leave home because they don’t want to do their own washing (Bee says).

  ‘No. Mum was working. Dad was at football. Only the twins were home. We had tea in front of the telly.’ (Bee’s brothers are really old – more than twenty.)

  ‘That’s nice,’ said Copper Pie, smiling his wide-mouth-frog smile.

  ‘Is it? I’d rather have your mum yelling and dinner at the table than trays on your lap watching the extreme sports channel.’ Bee looked sad. I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never seen the extreme sports channel.

  I was saved by the sound of footsteps . . .

  ‘Hey, Jonno,’ said Fifty (trying to sound cool).

  The five of us stood in a circle in my room.

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘I’ve made a list.’

  Copper Pie laughed at me. ‘You are such a Keener. You can be Tribe secretary.’

  ‘Don’t be rude to Keener. He’s more use than you are.’ Bee was sticking up for me. Nice. ‘I mean, we don’t need a bouncer or a footie freak so what are you going to be?’

  Copper Pie stuck his tongue out.

  That got us talking about Tribe jobs again. As usual it ended in random lists of nonsense: nose-picker, armpit-smeller, pickpocket, shipwrecker.

  I tried to get them to work through my list but it was like trying to do apple-bobbing with no top teeth. After an hour, all we’d managed to decide was the Tribe handshake, which we’d been doing already, and a list of things to do before the next meeting.

  Copper Pie was doodling on the cover of my spelling book (he’s quite good at drawing but can’t write joined up – which is a bit random) when he said, ‘Me and Jonno went down the alley after school. Nightmare.’

  That’s when they told us all about the trouble: their clash with the Alley Cats.

  TRIBE JOBS

  KEENER: Find container for time capsule and design a Tribe identity card.

  FIFTY: Come up with Tribe motto.

  COPPER PIE: Look for Tribe den outside school.

  BEE: Write manifesto (her idea).

  JONNO: Think of missions.

  EVERYONE: Think of something important to do like save Black Rhinos (Bee’s idea again) or collect cereal box tops.

  a true and faithful account

  ‘We want all the details, leave nothing out,’ said Bee. She was in my hammock, swaying. The rest of us were propped up against bits of furniture, except Fifty, who was sitting on my safe.

  ‘I don’t want to think about it. I want to forget every tiny detail,’ said Jonno.

  So Copper Pie started, with Jonno chipping in. He called it, ‘A true and faithful account of walking home with Jonno,’ as though he was in court, which he probably will be one day.

  ‘Bee had gone to the dentist . . . Did you have anything done?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So the healthy eating’s paid off,’ said Fifty.

  She showed us her teeth.

  ‘Come on, Copper Pie. We want to hear about the Alley Cats,’ I said.

  ‘Right,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Bee had gone, and so had you and Fifty, so there was only Jonno left in the playground . . .’ (I was taking notes, just in case anything important cropped up) ‘so we went off together.’

  ‘Bee wants details, remember,’ said Jonno. ‘Copper Pie was eating a sausage roll and he offered me one, but I said no – cold sausage rolls are yuk.’

  ‘Suited me,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I ate them both. And then we started talking about what we like to eat. And I said I like pork pies with tomato sauce in front of the telly.’

  TRIBERS’ FAVOURITE FOODS

  COPPER PIE: Pork pies, tomato sauce, crisps, meat pie, apple pie, Cornish pasties, sausage rolls, cottage pie, shepherd’s pie, chips, scotch eggs, pumpkin pie, blackbird pie, any pie.

  BEE: Organic muesli and blueberries.

  FIFTY: Anything with loads of sugar.

  JONNO: Paella with lots of saffron.

  KEENER: Bacon sarnies.

  Bee pretended to vomit.

  ‘Can we get on with it?’ I said. They were enjoying being storytellers a bit too much. ‘We want details but not every word.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I turned the right way – out of the gates towards the bus stop – but Jonno didn’t . . . and that was when the trouble started. He wanted to go through the alley. I said, “No way”.’

  ‘No, you didn’t!’ said Jonno. ‘You said, “Oh no no no no, no,” like a girl. So I said, “Oh yes yes yes yes yes” back.’

  ‘Sounds like a pantomime,’ I said.

  ‘Exactly what I thought,’ said Jonno.

  Copper Pie ignored Jonno and carried on as though he wasn’t there. ‘I tried to tell him to come with me. But he wouldn’t.’

  ‘That’s because you didn’t explain why the alley was such a bad idea,’ said Jonno.

  ‘I tried. But you wouldn’t have come whatever I said. You’d made your mind up.’

  I thought Copper Pie was probably right. It reminded me of the labels his mum has for all the kids she looks after at the nursery: placid (it means dopey), lively (that means headcase), mischievous (pain in the neck) and sensitive (wuss). Jonno’s label would be: knows his own mind.

  ‘You told me it was a no-go zone,’ said Jonno. ‘That was it. End of.’

  ‘That’s not true. I told you the kids from the secondary school block it,’ said C.P.

  ‘But you didn’t say how. And anyway I knew I was safe with you. I’d been in one of your headlocks, remember? I didn’t realise you were scared,’ said Jonno.

  ‘Did you just say I was scared?’ said Copper Pie.

  ‘Yep.’ That was brave of Jonno.

  THINGS TRIBERS ARE SCARED OF

  KEENER: Blood.

  BEE: Birds, anything that flaps, or did flap (when it was alive).

  COPPER PIE: Celery.

  JONNO: Black mambas.

  FIFTY: His mum.

  ‘Well, if I was so scared, why didn’t I leave you to go down the alley on your own? Answer that.’

  ‘Because you’re stupid,’ I said. That was brave of me.

  ‘Thanks, Keener.’

  ‘I think he meant loyal,’ said Fifty. ‘Because you’re loyal.’

  ‘I wasn’t being loyal or stupid,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I was stuck with a mate who wouldn’t do what I said. What else could I do? I gave in and we went off to the alley. And what a smart move that was, Jonno!’

  I hoped they weren’t going to fall out.

  ‘But I didn’t know what was going to happen, did I?’ said Jonno.

  ‘Too right. You were too busy going on about that friend who wants his own Tribe.’

  ‘He’s called Ravi,’ said Jonno. ‘In fact, in the middle of all that, you suddenly asked me if I could sprint. What was that all about?’

  ‘I was working out whether we could leg
it if things got tricky, but you said you couldn’t run.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Jonno. ‘I thought it was something to do with Sports Day.’

  ‘Moron,’ said Copper Pie.

  ‘We turned into the alley,’ said Jonno, avoiding Copper Pie and talking to the rest of us.

  The alley is skinny and the walls are high so it’s always dark, a bit like our patch. I waited to hear what happened next.

  ‘I was praying they wouldn’t be there,’ said Copper Pie. ‘But no such luck. There were loads of them, all hanging about by the bollards at the end.’

  ‘As usual,’ said Bee.

  ‘I was totally confused,’ said Jonno. ‘What could be so frightening about a few girls?’

  ‘I’d forgotten to tell him the gang was all girls,’ said Copper Pie. ‘But girls are ten times worse than boys. Boys you can thump.’

  I agree, I thought. With a sister like Amy I’m an expert on how bad teenage girls can be.

  ‘I didn’t get it at all,’ said Jonno. ‘I kept on walking.’

  Inside I was cringing. I could picture the two of them on their own in the alley – Copper Pie desperate to get away and Jonno with no idea how bad it was going to get.

  I looked over at Bee and Fifty. I was sure we were all thinking the same thing. The Alley Cats are witches.

  ‘I wanted to forget it,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Go back past the bus stop. It was bad enough knowing what they did last time, but this time I was with Jonno who looks . . .’

  I knew what Copper Pie meant. Jonno’s got mad hair and wears his glasses right at the end of his nose. He walks around with his hands in his pockets, sort of slouchy, and his rucksack hanging so low it nearly drags on the floor. He looks like a brainy American kid, which is fine, except in the alley, where it would be much more useful if he looked like a bodybuilder.

  ‘What do I look like?’ said Jonno with a worry crease in his forehead.

  Fifty grabbed the glasses, put his hands in his pockets and pretended to walk like Jonno. It was quite funny.

  ‘So what happened next?’ I wanted to get to the action (and stop them teasing Jonno).