by Alex Shearer
‘Well, mark the kid’s card then, lady, so he don’t sound like some kind of dilly when he opens his mouth in public places. Reds win, then Blues win, then it’s a draw. OK? Unnerstand?’
I didn’t.
‘But – what’s the point in watching if you know how it’s going to end?’ I said.
‘What’s the point in living, kid, if you know how it’s going to end? You still go along for the ride, don’tcha?’
But I didn’t want to see any more. The game seemed pointless now. I just wanted to leave.
‘There’s only ever three outcomes anyway, kid,’ the man went on, waxing philosophical (as Peggy used to put it). ‘Win, lose, or draw. That’s all it ever is no matter who’s playing who. Someone wins, someone loses, or it’s even. Someone goes home happy, someone goes home disappointed. Then things change, and it’s the other way round for a while. Luck comes and goes, then it comes back again. So what’s the difference? What’s the odds? This way you get all the fun and none of the trouble. Blues win, then Reds win, then it’s even stevens and a draw. And everybody’s happy.’
‘I want to go, Peggy. I don’t want to see any more.’
‘They won’t let you out, kid, not till the end. Not unless you’re ill. Or expecting a baby. And I’d say you’re not.’
‘Peggy?’
‘It’s not all that long, Martin. We’ll just have to stay.’
But all I felt was tricked and disgusted.
I didn’t stand up or cheer any more. The second half started and the Reds scored a second goal. But five minutes before the final whistle, the Blues scored. Then they scored again from a penalty. Then thirty seconds before the whistle, they got the decider. But it looked to me as if the Reds’ goalkeeper had just let the ball in. It was as if he had deliberately dived one way when the ball was going the other.
The blue side of the stadium went wild, while the Reds got to their feet with a kind of silent resignation and headed for the exits.
‘Not to worry,’ I heard a Reds supporter say to his friend. ‘We might beat them next time.’
‘Yeah,’ his companion said. ‘Or if not, the time after that.’
‘Yeah. You’ve got to stick with your team through the good and the bad, the lean times and the fat, thick and thin.’
‘That’s right. Some you win, some you lose.’
And they went on their way. We followed them out.
The Blues were happy as babies. They milled around the stadium whooping and cheering. But next week, I thought, they’d be more subdued, when the draw came. And after that, they’d be the disappointed ones, as then it would be the turn of the Reds to win.
It just all seemed meaningless.
‘Why do they do it, Peggy?’ I said. ‘Why?’
‘Because they don’t have anyone else to play except each other, I guess. And if they did it any other way, they’d probably end up killing each other. But turn-about keeps the peace and maintains the status quo. And anyway, it’s only a game.’
‘But it ought to be fair. People ought to be trying. Or what’s the point?’
‘You’ve got me there, sweetheart,’ Peggy said. ‘I may be old, but I don’t know all the answers. Or even all the questions.’
‘It’s not like a game at all,’ I said. ‘It’s just a show, isn’t it? They’re just putting on a show. And all the cheering and excitement and being happy when your team wins and sad when they lose, it’s just phoney. It’s not real.’
But the people in the blue shirts around us went on singing and celebrating. One of them saw us taking our red shirts off to return them, and said, ‘Take it off, kid. I would if I were you. Guess the best team won today. You go and nurse your sorrows, son. Just learn to be a good loser, eh?’
‘But you only won because it was your turn,’ I said. ‘You weren’t the better team or anything –’
But he’d gone, carried away in a swarm of blue shirts, and the cheers and the cat-calls moved away from us and the stadium.
We gave the official the shirts back.
‘Should have chosen blue, huh?’ he said.
‘Why?’ I said. ‘What’s the difference? I mean, really. There is none.’
‘You come back any time now, folks,’ the official said cheerfully. ‘Always a welcome for visitors at Football Island. Next match Wednesday evening. Should be a good one too, I hear.’
I couldn’t see what would be good about it.
‘Peggy –’
‘I know. You need a new toothbrush.’
We found a shop and went in.
‘Red toothbrush or blue toothbrush?’ the lady behind the counter said.
‘I’d like a green one,’ I said.
‘Red or blue?’
‘Don’t you have any other colours at all?’
‘Does this boy have some kind of learning difficulties?’ she asked Peggy.
‘Quite the opposite,’ Peggy said.
‘Then what’s he talking about? This is Football Island. It’s a red toothbrush or a blue one or you don’t brush your teeth. So what’s it to be?’
‘Give us one of each,’ Peggy said. ‘Always good to have a spare.’
So she bought me a red and a blue toothbrush.
‘Now, that’s a weird one,’ the lady at the counter said.
Peggy gave me my brushes.
‘Thanks. I’ll use them turn-about,’ I said. ‘So neither of them feels left out.’
Peggy just laughed and put her arm around me.
‘Marty,’ she said. ‘I’m going to miss you.’
And it really hit me then that she was going to leave us when we got to City Island, and she wouldn’t be with us any more.
‘I’m going to miss you too, Gran,’ I said. ‘I really am.’
‘Come on, let’s go back to the boat and start sailing. It’s an education just getting to City Island, huh? Wouldn’t you say, Marty?’
‘I never thought it would be,’ I said. ‘But I’m learning.’
‘Me too,’ Peggy said. ‘Even at my age, there’s always something new – I’m glad to say. If there wasn’t, it might be kind of tedious. But it never was with you two around. I guess you kept me lively. That’s something kids are good at – right? – keeping you fresh and up on your old toes.’
19
show me
MARTIN STILL SPEAKING HERE TOO:
‘Come on you Blues! Come on you Blues!
Blues, Blues, it’s all good news –’
‘Reds! Reds! Reds we say.
Reds live to fight another day –’
The shouting and celebrating and the commiserating gradually faded behind us and we left the citizens of Football Island to all their tomorrows. It seemed funny that they’d go on and on doing what they did, playing endless games of football, where the result was never in doubt. And it would never be any different. Some days your team would win, and some days they would lose, or draw, and you would be happy or sad accordingly, and so it would always be.
It’s always strange when you’re travelling, because your days are changing and varied, while the days of those you pass, or leave behind you, go round like wheels, in patterns and habits, and things that were done yesterday are all to be done again tomorrow. And when we got to City Island, our days would be spinning wheels too.
‘Martin!’ Peggy called to me.
‘What is it?’
‘Come over here a moment.’
I went and joined her at the helm.
‘What’s up, Peggy?’
‘Take the sky-charts and show me where we are.’
I did.
‘Now show me where City Island is and how you’d get there.’
I did that too.
‘I thought you just got Gemma to do this,’ I said. ‘I overheard –’
‘I did. I want to be sure you can find the way too.’
‘Well, I can.’
‘Good.’
‘Why?’
‘And you can use the solars, can’t
you? And you know how the sails can be hauled in or hoisted, and how to tack and all the rest?’
‘You’ve shown me plenty of times.’
‘OK. Just wanted to check.’
‘Why?’
She was starting to worry me.
‘Because a crew ought to know. I just wanted to be sure you can sail the boat – you know – if anything were to happen … or if I wasn’t here.’
‘But – but why wouldn’t you be here, Peggy?’
‘It’s just standard procedure, Martin.’
‘Well, I know.’
‘OK, well, just to get some practice in, you take over.’
‘What – now?’
‘Yes, now.’
‘Oh … all right. What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going below. I’m going to lie down a little while.’
‘Are you all right, Peggy?’
‘Of course I’m all right. Just a bit tired.’
‘OK.’
‘Just stick to the course we’re on.’
‘OK.’
That was what I said. But I didn’t stick to it. The captain has to use his or her discretion and respond to unforeseen circumstances as he or she deems fit.
Angelica saw it before the rest of us.
‘Martin … Gemma … Alain – look over there.’
In the far sky, about two hours away from us and off to our starboard, was a great bank of cloud. The upper part of it was wide and deep, and must have stretched for a couple of kilometres. But the bottom of it was narrow and swirling, the vapour twisting like a whirlwind and disappearing into nothingness.
‘What’s doing that?’ Angelica said. ‘Something’s sucking it up.’
‘There’s a boat there, inside the cloud,’ Alain said. ‘It’s a Cloud Hunter. Has to be. They’ve got the compressors on and they’re gathering it in.’
‘Wow – isn’t that amazing. I’ve never seen –’
Alain didn’t let Gemma finish.
‘Change course,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to reach it before it goes.’
‘Change course?’ Gemma said. ‘But we’re already running late and Peggy –’
But I think she didn’t want to find the cloud-hunting boat because she was afraid it might be the last she would see of Alain.
‘Yes, well, I’ve got the wheel,’ I said. ‘I’ve been left in charge.’
‘So what? You’re not the oldest.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything? Why does being older give you any more right –’
‘Martin, will you change the course – please?’
Which was quite decent of Alain really. He could have just fetched his crossbow and pointed it at my head. But I’d already decided to do it. It might be his own parents in that boat. We couldn’t just sail on by. I turned the wheel and opened up the solars to max and got the others to help me put the spinnaker out, and in a couple of minutes we were running full tilt, and you could hear the sound of the wind whistling past your ears – and that was the sound of us moving.
‘How far do you think?’ I said.
Alain squinted.
‘They’re two hours away.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ I said, glad to have my estimate confirmed.
‘Can we go any faster?’
‘No, everything’s flat out. It’s an old boat. Don’t want it falling apart.’
He went to the prow and stood at the rail, watching the great cloud bank grow smaller as the unseen compressor sucked it down.
‘Look – there –’
The lower vapour had cleared and we could see the cloud-hunting boat, and the great cloud was now half its original size and shrinking rapidly.
‘Fire a flare, Martin, so they can see us.’
‘If you like … you do it.’
He fired one of the emergency flares into the sky. But I don’t think they saw it. They were still an hour away from us, and no doubt engrossed in their work.
‘Let me fire another.’
‘Alain, there’s only one left,’ Gemma said. ‘What if there is a real emergency?’
‘This is a real emergency!’ he snapped. But he didn’t use the last flare. He left it in the case.
The cloud was going. It was just wisps and traces now, and then it was gone, all folded up and packed away and turned into water in the compressor tanks. And the cloud-hunting boat then raised its sails and opened its solars, and away it went, skimming off on a thermal like whoever was at the helm was a sky-sailor in a race.
‘That is some going …’
We didn’t have a hope. Even if we’d had a faster, more streamlined boat, I didn’t have the skill to sail it in that way, and I didn’t think anyone else on board did either.
‘I’m sorry, Alain, we’re not going to be able …’
He could see it was pointless. He turned away from the prow and nodded at me.
‘Thanks anyway,’ he said.
Then he went below.
Peggy appeared a while later.
‘What are we doing here?’ she said. She knew at once that we weren’t where we should have been. ‘Are we lost already?’
‘We saw a cloud-hunting boat and I had to take a detour.’
‘Oh. That’s why he’s upset.’
‘We couldn’t catch it.’
‘I see. Have you recalculated the course?’
‘Me and Gemma did it. It’s better if we go this way, rather than sail all the way back to where we diverted.’
‘Show me.’
I showed her the new route on the chart.
‘It didn’t look dangerous. It avoids the Forbidden Isles as much as we can. The only islands we come really close to are these.’
‘Oh. The Friendly Isles? We’re going that way?’
‘Yes. I mean, they sound all right. You’re not going to get any problems sailing past an archipelago called the Friendly Isles, are you?’
But Peggy just sighed.
‘You kids still have a lot to learn, don’t you?’ she said. ‘See, this is what worries me. I only have to go and take a little nap, and it all starts getting complicated.’
20
friendly
GEMMA TELLING IT AS IT IS:
I could see that Martin thought that I didn’t want Alain to reach the cloud-hunting boat, but that wasn’t so at all. I did. I was praying we’d get there before it finished with the compressors and took off. Why would I ever want to stop him being reunited with his family or getting news of them when I know what it’s like to lose people you love? I don’t know how Martin could have thought that. I’d never be like that. It’s his age still, I guess – just a bit callous, and judgemental.
But I forgot about it soon. Peggy took over at the wheel and I went and leaned on the rail of the boat, next to Angelica, and we watched the so-called Friendly Isles come into view. And when I saw them I soon lost all my worries, for they were the most beautiful places I had seen. But it wasn’t only that, they smelt wonderful too; a sweet scent of flowers came from them, fresh and clean, borne on the breeze, enticing and kind of beckoning you in.
‘Peggy, what’s the lovely smell?’
‘Not what you might think. It’s kelp.’
‘Kelp?’
‘Sky-weed. There. One of the rarer varieties. This is the only place it grows, far as I know. Never been found anywhere else. Won’t grow anywhere else, though people have taken cuttings and tried to transplant it. Only grows here. No one knows why. Something in the air, maybe – the climate, the rock …’
And there it was, fields of it, floating offshore. It didn’t look so attractive, but it did smell delicious. And when you inhaled its odour, it kind of went to your head, and made you feel refreshed and happy, and your worries looked far away.
‘Peggy, can we stop off and visit the Friendly Isles?’ I asked.
‘No, sorry. We can’t.’
‘Ah, Peggy –’
‘Please, Peggy –’ Angelica joined in.
&n
bsp; ‘Come on, Peggy –’ I pleaded.
Alain came back up on deck, and he wanted to visit them too.
‘No. We don’t have the time. We’ve wasted enough.’
‘But Peggy, just for an hour –’ I said.
‘Yeah, only it never is an hour. There’s people went to spend an hour on the Friendly Isles and they’re still there fifty years later.’
‘Why didn’t they leave?’
‘I’ll tell you one day. But right now we’re not landing to find out.’
‘But, Peggy –’
‘No. Answer’s no. What’s the answer?’
‘No?’
‘You got it.’
So we all lined the deck – except Peggy, who kept a firm hold of the wheel – and gazed at the stunning and magnificent Friendly Isles, whose cliffs were adorned with kelp blooms and flowers, and there was even a waterfall, trickling water out into the sky.
‘Peggy – they’ve got water to waste.’
‘It’s recycled. It just goes round and round.’
I felt that we were sailing past paradise. Why go to City Island, I thought, when there were places like the Friendly Isles, and you could tie your boat up there and rest a while, or even be happy there forever? Whereas studying might end up giving you troubling thoughts and making you unhappy.
‘Peggy –’
‘No, Gemma, and that’s final.’
So that was that. Or should have been.
Only it wasn’t.
‘Ahoy! Ahoy, please! Ahoy …’
Voices called to us from a stationary boat that we were approaching. The two people on board were running up a distress flag too – though it wasn’t exactly an emergency they had on their hands, not strictly speaking, not an oceanic one anyway.
‘What do they want?’ I heard Peggy muttering. ‘If we get any more interruptions, by the time we get to City Island the school’ll be shutting up for the next round of holidays.’
‘Could you help us, please?’ a voice cried.
‘Hell and damnation,’ Peggy said to herself.
‘Are we going to pull over, Peggy?’ I asked – knowing the answer.
‘I suppose … Let’s see what they want. Sky-cat overboard or something trivial like that, I wouldn’t be surprised.’
And she gave Botcher an evil look as he got under her feet, but he took the hint and scurried off out of the way.