Jam Sandwiches

by Greg Fowler

  Over the course of a week he could be under the spell of Mr Tree for fifteen or twenty hours easy. The great thing about it was, despite the fact he would almost instantly drop into a bottomless, blissful unconsciousness, he always seemed to wake up as soon as Grandma Daisy laid her heavy feet on those creaky stairs. He knew it was strange (and he certainly wouldn’t mention it to anyone – including Reagan) but sometimes he could swear it was the tree that woke him up in time. Like it was calling out to him. Warning him that Grandma Daisy was coming in for a landing.

  But trees couldn’t do that. Even stupid boys like Eddy knew that much.

  Anyway, whether it spoke to him or not, whatever it did do to him felt really, really good. He’d wake up full of beans and refreshed, like the inside of his head had been given a great big spring clean. The kind of top to bottom that Grandma Daisy got herself into every now and then, when she’d lug brooms and buckets from one end of the house to the other and threaten Eddy that if he so much as left a speck of dust in his room after she slaved for him, she’d only cook him brussel sprouts for a week. When the tree took him in it’s warm embrace like that, it took his cobwebs away.

  And the one other great thing about it…it made a long, long, long, long day seem that much shorter.

  13. REAGAN TO THE RESCUE

  The bell for the end of the day was ringing its dulcet tones throughout the neighbourhood and that was a sweet, sweet sound. Eddy felt the familiar tingle of expectation wiggle down his spine and planted himself tight up against the front window.

  Reagan had been going to the school around the corner for almost two weeks now and Eddy had managed to create a little game around her daily home coming. With his face lodged right up against the glass, he’d spot the telltale uniform colours before he could recognise the person inside them. So what he’d started doing over the last couple of days was count the close calls, at least as high as his recollection of numbers would let him, until he hit pay dirt and could absolutely confirm that that blouse and skirt in the distance belonged to his bedroom window neighbour. He was quite proud of himself too. Numbers had never really been his thing. To be honest, he’d been worse with numbers than he was with the alphabet. But now, on a couple of occasions at least, he’d got himself well into the thirties before it all fell apart on him. That was a minor miracle from his perspective. He was so chuffed in fact that once he tried it in front of Grandma Daisy to see what she’d think. The trouble was, it all disintegrated right when he needed it the most. Grandma Daisy had just given him one of her looks and turned tail.

  But he knew. Yep, he knew he could do it.

  On this particular day Eddy stuck with the tried and true pattern.

  ‘Seventeen…eighteen…nineteen, twenty, t..t…twenty one…’

  Twenty seven. She’ll be twenty seven today Eddy.

  ‘Twenty two…twenty three. Twenty four, t…twenty f…five, twenty six …and…twenty seven! There she is!’

  And there she was indeed. Eddy knew her walk by now. She had a certain swagger about her, a confidence that intrigued him. She was about as cool as the bathroom lino on a midwinter’s morning.

  To add to Eddy’s perception of her, Reagan appeared to be the centrepiece of a happy go lucky threesome. She was flanked both sides by identically dressed girls and while they were all hopping along without a care in the world, Eddy could see the real story. He’d watched way too much of people’s body language from his top spot in the street to miss this message. Those other two girls, those hangers on, they were waiting on Reagan’s every word. If Reagan said it was so, well then it was. If Reagan made a joke it was hilarious. If Reagan wore her blouse collar up high, then that was the new fashion. Eddy realised that maybe he’d been wrong before. Reagan wasn’t the sort of girl who made lots of friends, she was the sort of girl that others wanted to be like. He didn’t quite understand the subtle difference, he just saw it. She was special.

  ‘Hey Piss Pants.’

  Eddy was blown out of his daydream by a group of four boys below him and he was immediately disappointed with himself. He’d been so focussed on Reagan that he hadn’t noticed Bert, Ernie and a couple of their raucous buddies strutting along in front. He’d come to terms with the fact that they were never going to be his friends and now, whenever he spied them approaching, he would duck out of view until they’d well and truly gone by. Even then they had a habit of throwing the odd insult out, just to make sure Eddy knew where he stood in the scheme of things. Piss Pants was their definite favourite though. You couldn’t say much for their imagination but you could give them 10 out of 10 for persistence. It had reached a stage where the taunts had lost most of their impact on him. If you heard something often enough it ended up being nothing more than words. Things like Piss Pants and Stupid Boy could only ever run as deep as marrow, then the rest was just overflow.

  But still, not now. Any time but now.

  Whether the teasing had an effect or not, the fact that they’d caught him in their crosshairs was only going to make them shift into a whole new gear. And even then, that alone might be manageable, but all this in front of Reagan……

  ‘Hey Piss Pants,’ yelled Bert insistently. ‘Why don’t ya give us a show.’

  Eddy had no idea what to do. Should he duck even though it was way too late? Had Reagan already seen what was going on? Would Grandma Daisy come out and make it a hundred times worse than it already was? What to do? What to do?

  ‘Go on…we’ll be your friend.’ This was Ernie, right on cue, and he said this last piece with a whiney, childlike voice that made the rest of the posse crack up laughing. ‘Com’ on Piss Pants. Flop it out and pretend to be a fountain.’ That sent them into wild giggling fits and if Reagan had been oblivious to things before, there was no way she could be now. These boys were loud, so awfully loud and she was getting closer by the second.

  This called for urgent action. Knowing on one hand it was courting all sorts of trouble (from both within and without the house) but hoping whatever lay in the other hand had a shot of working, Eddy unclasped the window and pushed it as wide as it would go, which wasn’t all that wide.

  ‘P…p…p…please.’ Eddy waved his hand at them as though he could swat them like flies. ‘N…not n…now.’

  ‘What’s wrong Piss Pants. Got your knickers in a twist.’

  Don’t shout Bert, please don’t shout.

  Bert was just about to kick into some other smart comment when he slammed the brakes on his mouth. He checked his three cohorts out like they’d interrupted him, but after a moment of dead silence he obviously figured otherwise and returned his eager attention to the stupid boy in the window. The easy prey.

  ‘Are you still wearing the same undies Piss Pants? I think you might be ‘cause I can smell them from here. All p…p…p…pissy.’

  ‘N…no. P…p…please. Another d..day.’ Eddy desperately didn’t want to cry but it was coming anyway and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. ‘P…pleeeease.’ The first tear tumbled from his cheek, right out through the open window where it baked to nothingness on the hot iron roof below him. Right now he envied that tear.

  ‘Go on, p…p…please Piss Pants. Give us a show.’ Ernie was nothing if not his brother’s parrot.

  ‘Yeah, you can be the clown.’ Now it was the turn of one of their friends to chime in. Eddy was angry at himself now. He should never have been so stupid as to let these boys catch him out like this. He was stupid, stupid, stupid.

  ‘You leave him alone.’

  Oh no!

  Reagan wasn’t supposed to be here yet. She should have been at least five houses away but in Eddy’s desperation to send these mean kids off he hadn’t noticed her leave her two sidekicks in the dust and sprint over to the commotion.

  Other than Ernie, she was smaller than all of them but that didn’t seem to put her off in the slightest. All four boys were staring at her with a combination of confusion and dawning amusement as she stood there, hands on hip
s, daring them not to obey her.

  ‘I said, leave him alone.’

  ‘Or what?’ Good old Bert, he had an uncanny knack of throwing kerosene onto the fire.

  ‘Or else, that’s what.’

  ‘You sure got a big mouth for a little girl.’

  ‘You sure got a little brain for a big boy.’

  One of Bert’s unnamed friends chuckled at that one but a stern look from the pack leader unplugged that right quick.

  ‘What’s the story with you and Pissy Pants anyway?’ A light switched on behind Bert’s eyes. He was revved up and ready for round two. ‘Is he your kissy, pissy boyfriend?’

  Reagan’s walking companions had caught up by now, as had a couple of other strays looking for something better than a direct line home, and pretty much everyone but Eddy and Reagan had a snigger at that one.

  ‘I..it’s o…o..okay Reagan,’ strained Eddy, both with his voice and with his pleading eyes. ‘Y…you can g…go home.’

  ‘No Eddy, it’s not okay.’ Reagan wasn’t going to budge, uh-uh, no way. ‘Don’t you guys have ears or something. Get going!’

  ‘That’s it isn’t it? He’s your pissy, kissy boyfriend.’

  ‘No idiot. He’s not my boyfriend.’

  Eddy didn’t know exactly what a boyfriend was, but it did have the word ‘friend’ in it, so when Reagan responded the way she did his shoulders sagged deep and low. He hated Bert for doing this. For pushing Reagan to the point where she had to deny her bedroom window neighbour. In his mind he pictured the end of it all. She’d stop showing him her toys. She’d stop talking to him for hours across the breadth of his wonderful tree. She’d stop everything…just because Bert had told her the truth. That he was nothing more than a stupid little boy that would never amount to more than a pile of pissy pants.

  ‘K…I…S…S…I…N…G, you and Pissy Pants up in a tree.’ Ernie had the nous to start this one and he was tickled pink to see his big brother and crew pick up the chorus.

  Reagan took two or three determined steps towards the group, slinging her back pack off her shoulder so that she grasped it down beside her.

  ‘He’s is NOT my boyfriend…but he IS my friend.’

  Oh thank you Reagan. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

  Reagan turned her head and smiled up at Eddy and it was a beautiful, wonderful smile.

  ‘Now get out of here,’ she ordered, returning her attention to the rotten quartet.

  ‘K…I…S…S………..’

  The boys never quite got to finish the rest of their little ditty because before they knew it Reagan was on them in a frenzy. And boy she was quick. Quicker than Eddy would have given her credit for and most certainly quicker than Bert, Ernie and crew were prepared for.

  She didn’t make a sound, she just advanced on them and let that backpack of hers swing. It must’ve had some decent sized things in there too because when it connected with the side of Bert’s smug face Eddy could easily hear the meaty thud it made. Thwack! Bert hit the pavement like a brick. Everyone else in the vicinity took an immediate step backward but for one of the anonymous taunters it was a split second too late. Thwock! This time the bag landed fair and square against the side of an arm and he let out a howl like a wounded dog.

  Bert, who hadn’t so much as twitched for a moment or two, now tried to find his bearings only to discover a pint sized barrel of brawn standing over him, heavy backpack at the ready. One whole side of his face had gone numb and he wasn’t looking forward to it wearing off either because he knew too well it was going to hurt like a belter.

  Ernie had already picked his side and Eddy watched on as the smaller brother forgot all family allegiances and sprinted manically toward his home up the street. All for one and forget the rest.

  ‘Reagan Crowe, you get here this instant young lady!’

  Eddy looked across to the front yard next door and found exactly what he expected to find based on that angry sentence. Mrs Crowe was standing there, arms on hips and looking about as far from happy as you could get. Reagan was definitely in for it tonight.

  Knowing that the game was up, Reagan lowered the backpack to her side and glanced up at Eddy. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, she winked at him.

  Before she trudged in to take her punishment and before Bert could muster the sense to get to his feet, she leaned over and whispered something to the sorry looking boy. It was discrete enough that nobody, let alone Eddy way up there in the window, could make it out, but it must’ve been something awfully wicked. Bert gave her a look of shock then, scraping himself out from underneath her, he stumbled along the same path beaten earlier by his cowardly brother; all the time clutching the side of his face which was already turning a truly ugly shade of red.

  The last Eddy saw of Reagan that day was her unrepentant figure stepping through the front door as her mother slammed it behind her.

  Bert was hurt.

  Reagan was in a whole pile of trouble

  …and…

  Eddy had the best friend ever. One, two, three if you please.

  14. GRANDMA DON’T

  ‘Heaven in a handbag Eddy!’

  ‘S…sorry Grandma Daisy!’ Eddy had no idea what it was he’d done to earn her wrath but he’d learned over time that it was much easier to surrender up front than fight a losing battle. Not only that, but she’d managed to sneak up on him again and his words were more gut instinct than purpose.

  ‘Just look at that tree.’

  Eddy followed Grandma Daisy’s dumbfounded gape and did exactly as he was told.

  ‘Is th…there something wr…wrong with it?’ Eddy didn’t like where this was going.

  ‘Look at it you Stupid Boy.’

  Eddy looked at it all over again and returned his uneducated stare back up at his Grandma. He was lost. There was his tree… so what.

  ‘You’re a waste of space Eddy, I swear.’ Grandma Daisy stepped over to the side window and placed the palm of her hand on the branch. ‘How in God’s name did it grow so much?’

  ‘I d…dunno Grandma D…Daisy. It just did.’

  Eddy supposed she was right in a way. He spent every day with his tree but when he thought about it, it had changed a lot over the past two or three weeks. No longer was it an adventurous outgrowth, just testing the environment within ‘The Bedroom of Eddy’. Now it was developing into a fully fledged tributary in its own right. It was, by all definition, a real branch. Instead of winding its way a few inches past the window ledge, it had now curled to the right and was journeying along his wall, above the length of his bed. All in all, there was a good three feet inside the room now and it was healthy growth too. Where there had only been a handful of shiny new leaves breaking the surface like butterflies birthing from a cocoon, there was now easily thirty or forty of them, maybe more.

  ‘I’ve been so busy cleaning up after you I haven’t even noticed.’ Grandma Daisy tried to give the branch a shake but it gave her no slack whatsoever. ‘Glory be.’

  ‘It’s a g…g…good tree Grandma Daisy. It helps m…me spell. T…R…E…E. See.’

  ‘It’s ruining my house is what it’s doing.’

  Please no Grandma Daisy. Don’t go there.

  ‘Look what it’s doing,’ she continued. ‘It’s eating into the woodwork here on the window. I can’t afford to get that fixed. I spend all my pittance on you.’

  Eddy remained silent as he sat in his desk chair. He wanted so much to defend his tree but anything he said would only wind her up even more. If you gave Grandma Daisy a bone she’d gnaw the thing to bits. So he watched on as she ran her hands along the length of the bough, all the way to the leafy tip, near on half the distance of his bed away. All the while she had such a look of wonder and dismay on her face that Eddy could’ve written the rest of her script in advance.

  ‘There’s nothing else for it,’ she stated to all concerned. ‘Beth Melling’s husband has a chainsaw. He’s just going to have to come over and chop this thing off. It gives me the creeps.
’

  Grandpa Nevil planted the Tree.

  ‘Wh…what?’

  ‘I said, I’m going to get this monstrosity cut off.’

  Eddy didn’t tell her he wasn’t talking to her. Even Stupid Boys weren’t that dumb.

  Grandpa Nevil planted the Tree almost fifty years ago. When this house was built.

  Eddy looked around the room. If he’d been by himself he would’ve risked a ‘who said that?’ but not with Grandma Daisy present. Besides, his eyes told him what he already knew. There was nobody else. How could there be?

  Go on, tell her.

  Eddy was still considering all this weirdness when Grandma Daisy put an end to her deliberations and made for the door.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed to nobody in particular, ‘I think I’ll give Beth a call right away.’

  ‘W…wait Grandma Daisy!’

  It was too late, the words were out.

  ‘Excuse me young boy.’ She was standing tall and broad in the door, hands on hips in much the same way Mrs Crowe had teapotted for Reagan when she’d given Bert his dues. ‘I will wait when and for whom I choose, thank you very much.’

  ‘It’s just that…um…um…’

  ‘Well spit it out. I’ve got better things to do you know.’

  ‘I…I…um, I have a qu…question.’

  I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that Grandma Daisy.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I w…was just wondering wh…who p..put the Tree, T…R…E…E there.’

  Now it had been Eddy’s turn to sneak up on her. She hadn’t expected that one and it was written all over her face.

  ‘What made you ask a question like that?’

  ‘Um…I don’t really know Grandma Daisy.’ At least he was being honest.

  ‘Good Lord, that takes me back a ways.’ Eddy watched with growing interest as Grandma Daisy’s eyes stayed open but stopped seeing. She was looking inside is what Eddy took from it. She was remembering and ‘remembering’ begins with ‘R’.

  ‘Was it Gr…Grandpa, Grandma Daisy?’

  Her eyes came back into focus and she gave him the very briefest of looks. It had to be brief because it wasn’t her style to betray her softer emotions. She pursed her lips and if Eddy didn’t know any better he could swear that she swallowed back a whole bunch of stuff that desperately wanted to get out. Last of all she took a great big, deep breath and gave her head an almost imperceptible shake. And that was it. The old Grandma Daisy was back in charge.