Ugly Beautiful

by Sean-Paul Thomas

  I remembered it was hot there. Volcano hot. And during our time living on the Island most of the people wore only shorts and T shirts no matter what the occasion or time of day, well, everyone except the poor army soldiers of course. They had to wear their full uniform of trousers, boots and military overalls pretty much every hour of the day, unless instructed otherwise, regardless of the weather.

  Even the delicious ice creams down at the Cesac beach had to be devoured just as soon as the ice-cream man had scooped the frozen goodness out of its freezer home, or else you'd quickly find the melting contents of the wafer cone dripping all the way down your fingers, hands and wrists, and before you knew it you'd be licking warm, sticky, melted ice cream goo from the tips of your elbows.

  It was my fourth day in Cyprus and my first day at Dhekelia's, King Richard Secondary School. I was a little nervous to say the least. First days at new schools should only be a terrifying ordeal for most kids twice in their lives. Once on the first day of primary school and again on the first day of secondary school. For army brats it's a real regular pain in the arse occurrence. And in my short thirteen year lifespan on this Earth this was to be my fourth, first day at a new school and my second first day at a secondary school.

  I was paraded in front of my new classmates by the adorable Mrs Pointon. My new class teacher. She was a lovely, yet very tall and intimidating old lady in her mid-fifties. Who always dressed incredibly pretty and colourful for her age in long flowing summer dresses of yellow, light blue and pink. So finding myself up there on my little pedestal at the head of the class, right in front of my new fellow classmates, was made all the more bearable by this friendly, all smiling, very tall, old lady. I wasn't a skinny or slim kid in my school days by any means. Yet I certainly wasn't a fat child either. I had a slightly broad shouldered physique as my mother delicately used to put it and a particularly good build for front row rugby as my father would proudly say.

  'Good morning, class. I hope you all had a fantastic weekend away from school while of course managing to complete your homework assignments. Your brief summary and thoughts on the book we finally finished reading last Friday 'Of Mice and Men',' bellowed Mrs. Pointon in the most radiant, delightful and positive of tones.

  'Yes, Miss,' echoed the majority of the class.

  'Well, boys and girls,' she continued, clasping her hands together in a bout of joy. 'This morning we have the most delightful of surprises for you all. A brand new class mate. Everybody, I'd like to introduce to you Liam Francis. Liam and his family have recently moved to Cyprus all the way over from Andover in England. Liam's father is in the British army with the Royal Engineers. So I would like everyone to give Liam a big, warm, happy and friendly welcome to our school.'

  I cringed with embarrassment on the spot. The majority of my new classmates, whose curious eyes and full attentive stares were upon me, groaned out a half-hearted welcome attempt in unison. 'Hello, Liam.'

  For the majority of the time I'd been standing there, I'd pretty much kept my head and eyes firmly rooted to the ground. I didn't want to make any unnecessary eye contact with anyone. I agonisingly waited in an embarrassed emotional turmoil state to have this charade finally over and done with. I wanted so badly to just skulk away to the back of the class and erase myself from my new fellow classmates' memories forever. Yet as they welcomed me with their half assed manner, for some reason I raised my head upwards to meet their wide eyed giggles and curious stares, and when I did, well - You could've knocked me sideways with an ice cream space rocket and I still wouldn't have believed I'd been standing up straight in that moment.

  It was the first time I happened to lay eyes upon her. The pretty, pony tailed, Latino looking brunette with the dark tanned skin, weary eyes and tomboyish persona. She was the only pupil in class not paying any attention to me in the slightest. Instead, she stared dreamily out of the classroom window with a sad and distant expression upon her face. In that moment I became captivated by her angelic beauty and oblivious like presence that I would've done anything to catch a quick and forbidden glimpse into those thoughts that were making her look so glum.

  'I think you should sit down beside Michael for the time being.' Miss said, breaking my train of thoughts and directing my attention towards a lean, mean and athletic looking man-boy machine sitting about five rows up. He had a double desk all to himself right in the middle of the class room.

  'You two should have a lot to talk about as Michael's Dad is also in the forces.'

  Mrs. Pointon edged me onwards to sit down beside the mean looking boy. He stared at me like I'd just plopped out from the stinky bowels of a dog's backside. I slowly approached the empty seat beside him and sat down.

  'How's it going, chunk?' Were the first words out of his mouth. I knew there and then I was never going to like this man-child.

  'Hi. My name's Liam.' I said determined, but inside I was bricking it. Everything about this boy terrified me from his mean looking scowl and brooding deep tan to his six inch height advantage over me and muscular athletic physique. Gees, was this guy really the same age as me and all the other kids here? Or was he one of those rare types you always heard about in other schools whose genes and rapid growth rate completely excelled everyone else's. He looked like an athletic freak of nature for his age.

  'Make's no odds to me. You're still chunky, chunk!' Michael replied with a snarling sneer. Mrs. Pointon clapped her hands together loudly gaining everyone's attention. She even brought the pretty Sarah's sad and dream like gaze back in from the outside world.

  'Right then, class!' Mrs. Pointon said. Her voice and body language had taken on a much firmer and disciplined role to her recent friendly little old lady charms. 'Take out your textbooks and turn to page five.'

  Most of the pupils began flicking through their books. Others riffled through their rucksacks in search for them.

  'Liam! You can share books with Michael for today, please, until we get you one of your own.'

  'Miss! How's that fair?' Michael protested, completely over dramatic and griping out like some spoiled brat. 'What if he gets hungry and starts eating my pages?'

  The whole class erupted with laughter. I sat shocked, horrified, while everyone laughed at me.

  'Don't be so ridiculous, Michael. Now do what you're told, boy. Come on now, everyone. Turn to page five.'

  Mrs Pointon's firm tone took charge of the classroom once again. The other kids' laughter turned to faint titters and giggles before dying out completely. Michael dragged his book from his backpack and slammed it down hard upon the table in front of me, but much closer to his side of the desk than mine.

  'So what regiment's your dad in, chunk?'

  'Six two Cyprus Support squadron! The Royal Engineers.' I replied proudly.

  'The Engineers!' Sneered Michael. 'So all your dad gets to do is fix things all day like a glorified handyman. Sounds a bit boring if you ask me. My dad's in the infantry so he gets to carry guns around and shoot people whenever he likes.'

  'You can't shoot people over here.'

  I almost chuckled to myself at the absurdity of his statement. I stopped laughing immediately though when he turned to face me with a complete look of seriousness.

  'My dad can. And he could shoot you if he wanted to, and your dad.'

  I had to bite my tongue and grit my teeth from arguing with him anymore. He either really did believe this deluded guff he spoke or else he was just winding me up to get a reaction. Maybe so he could thump me one or something more violent. I remained quiet. I placed my eyes firmly down upon the text book in front of me, of what I could see of it, and began to read.

  Chapter 2

  Lunchtime couldn't have come soon enough. I ended up sitting by myself at the edge of the School playing fields munching away on my packed lunch while watching some of the other boys from the same year, including Michael, join together to play football. I noticed that Michael took full charge and control of the game right from the start. Not only were t
hey playing with his ball, but he'd also allocated himself as team captain and star player of his team. So there was no surprise to discover who the 'un-discussed' referee was going to be also. And out of the other dozen or so boys playing, Michael was the only one who could be heard screaming out and directing his team mates around the pitch with dominating chants that usually consisted of. 'Pass to me arsehole!' or 'Give me the ball arsehole!' or 'Give me the ball now or I'll thump you one!'

  I finished my second ham and cheese sandwich to the sound of Michael moaning at yet another boy who'd just given the ball away to the opposing team.

  'Pass to me quicker next time dip stick. I'm the best player here, so just pass the ball to me quicker next time, all right?'

  Out of nowhere the ball was kicked out of play and came bouncing directly towards me. At the time I was getting ready to place a small plastic straw inside my carton of fruit juice. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach as I watched the ball come closer and closer. I was actually a little excited too about whether to run and fetch it or not and pass it back to the players. Before I could make that decision though, Michael had already made it for me.

  'Oih! Kick the ball back to us Chunk. Quickly now.'

  In a flash I found myself abandoning the rest of my packed lunch and running after the stray football. I had to kick it back towards Michael so I knew it had to be an inch perfect, yet fast paced, razor sharp pass, just to prove I was indeed a half decent player in his eyes. Of course I knew I was already a decent little player at the best of times. This was thanks to my father who once had a trial for the great 'Glasgow Celtic' at the tender age of sixteen. He choose to join the army instead when he never quite made the professional football cut. But he did manage to pass down some basic and useful skills and techniques over the years that's for sure. Right now I had to prove those skills all at once. Right at this very moment and beyond a shadow of a doubt in front of all the other kids playing. The eyes of my school world were upon me. Messing this pass up meant I was going to be a figure of ridicule for the remainder of my school days here and quite frankly that wasn't an option.

  'Mind to pass the ball back to us Chunk and not eat it, yeah!' Michael continued cheerfully. 'It's not a jelly doughnut you know.'

  I ignored his taunts and ran up to the ball, hitting it with a slight touch to steady it first, just to give it a bit of gentle pace. I then let loose my right foot with a thunderous and curving mid air boomerang pass. It floated with an awesome pace right towards Michael's feet. Michael looked more surprised than anyone as he stopped the ball dead with his left foot.

  'Hey man! Good pass chunk.'

  Michael flicked the ball up with his right foot and caught it with his hands. He was just about to turn back to the game when he half turned back to face me.

  'Hey! Do you fancy a game?'

  Did I ever. I felt a huge smile rip roaring from one side of my face to the other along with a great glowing feeling inside of just the tiniest bit of acceptance.

  'Yeah, absolutely! Thanks a lot.'

  I jogged over towards the pitch.

  'You're on my team then Chunk. And mind not to spew your lunch up anywhere near me.'

  The word chunk, which hit me like a slap to the face when I first heard it in class, was becoming less and less painful to hear. I mean I hadn't quite accepted this new nickname just yet, but to tell you the truth I didn't care in this particular moment anymore. Right now I was wearing my invisible happy helmet which made me invincible to everyone else around me, well, almost.

  We played for fifteen more minutes that lunchtime and I felt myself ease more and more into the game. I didn't want to upset anyone on my first day so I made sure to listen carefully to Michael's dictating rants and passed the ball to wherever he wanted it to be passed.

  We were edging towards the end of the game and were tied seven a piece. The final whistle was going to be the end of lunch time bell. Nobody had a watch, but we could all sense it was about to start ringing at any goddamn given second. There was an anxious atmosphere and an intense aura filtering all over the playing pitch. Both teams were riskily pushing players forward for that all important winning last goal.

  Suddenly, from a winning tackle which I made, I won the ball back. Surprise, surprise though, Michael was immediately sprinting up the field and screeching for me to pass the ball to him, no questions. Steven, another classmate, was in a much better position in front of me on the right wing. He had a chance for a one on one with the keeper to finish the opposing team off, but I opted to send a more difficult, yet inch perfect long ball pass to Michael instead. I looped the ball over the heads of three defenders on route to Michael's feet on the far left side of the pitch. Sprinting hard I made my own darting run into the oppositions penalty area to help out with our attack. Michael dribbled past another two players on the outside of the box, then played a one two with another boy. Inside the box both myself and Steven were open to take a clean shot at goal as another two defenders scrambled towards Michael to tackle him. We could all sense the school bell was about to ring at any second. Michael knew he couldn't score from this impossible left side angle with two defenders and a goalkeeper still to beat. Even if he had to thump one of them out of the way with his own hands just to take a clean shot first. Then the most surprising thing happened... Michael passed the ball... to me. Although he was screaming for it back again immediately just as soon as the ball left his foot.

  'Pass it back chunk. Pass it back now.'

  But I couldn't. The taste of glory was too much to resist. I had a half open goal in my sight as the keeper was completely wrong footed by Michael's sly pass. A herd of wild horses couldn't stop me from slotting the ball home and into the back of the opposing teams net. The end of lunch bell rang. The rest of my team mates bar Michael started jumping around celebrating with me in elated joy. It was like we'd won the World cup in extra time. Still, from the corner of my eye, I could sense that Michael wasn't happy. Steven, one of my other team mates cheerfully patted me on the back.

  'Great goal there Liam! Really well taken mate.'

  For an instant I'd lost all awareness of Michael's proximity. Suddenly he stormed out of nowhere and pushed me down hard to the ground. Some of the other boys began laughing too as Michael stood over me. He was really intimidating with a crazy scowl smeared across his face like he was chewing on a nest of hornets. I couldn't do anything else but lie there in shock. I was dazed and confused. I really believed he was about to lash out and kick me in the stomach or ribs at the very least.

  'When I say pass the ball chunk. I bloody well mean it.'

  'Come on Michael. He scored the winning goal for us.' I heard Steven say in my defence. Michael didn't even reply to that or acknowledge Steven in the slightest. Instead he just turned away and began walking off with some of the other boys back towards class. I had a feeling that I may have gotten off lightly.

  'Fat tosser.' Michael shouted as he left.

  As I turned over onto my side, but still on the ground, I caught a quick glimpse of the pretty tomboy brunette girl from class. She was sitting by herself underneath the shade of a nearby tree reading a book. But in this moment she was glancing over towards me and the recent commotion on the football field. When she noticed me staring back at her she quickly broke eye contact and stuffed her book back inside her bag. She then stood up and headed back to class.

  'You all right Liam?' Said Steven, breaking my staring concentration. I sat up, still a little winded. I threw my arms around my knees composing myself. I glanced up at Steven but the hot sun was right behind his head and hurting my eyes.

  'I'm fine, thanks.' I replied. 'Just a bit winded. I'll be okay though.'

  Steven offered me his hand. I took it and let him pull me up onto my feet.

  'Don't worry about Michael. He doesn't like being upstaged that's all. He's a really bad loser.'

  'But we won.'

  'I know.' Smiled Steven shrugging it off like this was an every day no
rmal occurrence. 'Hey, you know what.' He continued. 'You should come down the beach with us this Saturday to play football. We could do with another good player like you.'

  'Will Michael be there?' I asked cautiously hoping for a straight 'no' answer which was never going to surface.

  'Sometimes yeah! If he's not hanging around with the older kids from the big school. But he should be all right with it. It's just cuz you're the new guy here that's all. It's like he's marking his territory or something.'

  I didn't know whether to feel proud of myself for registering as a threat on Michael's radar or stupid for not keeping my head down low and away from him.

  'Great.' I said dryly. 'And when does he ease down a little from marking his territory.'

  'Whenever the next new guy shows up.' Replied Steven grinning profusely as we both had a good chuckle at that.

  'All right then.' I finally said. 'What time do you play?'