The History of Mischief

by Rebecca Higgie

  ‘Is it from Poland?’

  ‘No, it’s from the Himalayas.’

  I look at it for a moment, not sure what else to ask. ‘It’s nice.’

  ‘I think so too. I just had breakfast with a friend and she gave it to me for my birthday.’

  ‘Happy birthday, Miss Sparrow,’ I say, even though I don’t mean it.

  ‘Thank you, Jessie!’

  I think about the salt lamp all day. Even though it’s not from Poland, I imagine Serafin’s friends carving statues out of it. I ask Miss Sparrow if I can see it again and she says, ‘Oh, I must have left it in the staff room.’

  ‘Can I get it for you if I finish my maths early?’

  ‘No, Jessie.’

  I finish my maths worksheet quickly, except the last problem, and scribble on my paper until recess.

  At recess, I run around being Bezawit, pretending I’m on a mission to get the salt lamp. Theodore won’t play because he’s making cranes. He’s less sad, but he still makes them. He says if he makes a thousand, his mum will get better, like in that book he likes about the Japanese girl.

  I think the salt would be better. I imagine having Aristophanes’ powers for finding hidden things. I find the salt lamp and use it to help Theodore’s mum.

  After recess, I ask Miss Sparrow if I can see the salt lamp. She says if I keep bothering her, I’ll have to sit on the bench at lunchtime. I don’t ask again.

  ‘Haven’t you made a thousand yet?’ I ask Theodore at lunch.

  ‘Broom got into the box where I was keeping them and chewed most of them up,’ he says.

  It takes me a while, but then I remember Broom is his dog. ‘Oh.’

  ‘I have six hundred and two to make.’

  ‘There’s a salt mine in Poland and the air there makes you better. Salt makes the air healthy.’

  He looks up from his origami paper. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, I read about it. Maybe you should get a salt lamp like Miss Sparrow.’

  ‘What’s a salt lamp?’

  ‘It’s a chunk of salt that … I think it lights up.’

  ‘Can I use normal salt?’

  ‘No, it’s special. It’s on a wooden pedestal and it’s really big.’

  ‘How much does it cost?’

  ‘I dunno,’ I say. ‘Miss Sparrow said they’re expensive.’

  ‘Oh,’ Theodore says. He slumps down and goes back to his paper cranes. I feel sorry that Broom ate his cranes so I make them with him.

  After lunch, we have to go down to the oval for the sports carnival. It was on in the morning too, but now it’s our class’s turn with the rest of the Year 4–6s. I don’t know why we’re having a carnival now, when it’s still raining. You shouldn’t have to do sports in winter. Mr Curtis, the PE teacher, says footy is the best sport in the world and you play that in winter, so we’ve got no excuse. He doesn’t let me get out of things like Mrs Lornazak.

  Theodore trips over and hurts his foot. Mrs Armstrong takes him up to the first-aid room in tears. I wonder if I can fall over and make myself cry.

  There’s a lot of waiting. My mind wanders to the salt lamp. Why does Miss Sparrow need it? She’s healthy. Theodore’s mum needs it more.

  ‘I need to go to the toilet,’ I tell one of the teachers on duty (not Mr Curtis). He gives me permission to go.

  I walk up to the courtyard and go to the toilet. It’s very quiet. Most of the classrooms nearby are empty. I glance towards the office. The staff room is on the second floor, up a flight of stairs near the principal’s office and the first-aid room.

  I walk over. Slowly. I glance through the glass door with a PLEASE USE THE OTHER DOOR sign on it. I can just see Theodore lying on the bed in the first aid room, his face turned away, an ice pack on his foot. The principal’s door is closed. I test the door, pushing it open a bit. Mrs Fraser is talking on the phone in her office.

  No one’s looking.

  It would be easy.

  Not like sneaking around Windsor Castle.

  I slip inside. Theodore doesn’t move. I stop at the staircase and look at the hard black steps.

  I go for it. I run up the stairs on tiptoe, quickly and quietly, and make it to the staff room. I spot the salt lamp on top of the dishwasher, along with Miss Sparrow’s lunch bag. I reach out and pick it up. It’s really heavy. Then I grab the wooden pedestal.

  The phone rings downstairs. I jump. The lady at the other end of the office answers in her singsong voice. The principal won’t be on the phone forever. It’s now or never.

  I run back down. As I come to the foot of the stairs, I see Theodore, sitting up. I look at him, he looks at me. He sees the salt lamp. He shakes his head at me.

  ‘For your mum,’ I whisper.

  He looks unsure, but then he shakes his head again. ‘Don’t, Jessie.’

  I ignore him and run out the door. I sprint to the hall where all our backpacks hang outside class. I find Theodore’s bag and put the salt lamp inside. I shove my jumper down to hide it and zip up the bag. I feel dizzy and a bit sick but I did it.

  ‘Jessie!’

  I drop the bag.

  It’s just Theodore.

  ‘It’s okay, I hid it in your bag!’ I tell him. ‘You can take it to your mum. Miss Sparrow won’t even notice before home time.’

  Theodore picks up his bag and tries to unzip it. ‘We have to put it back!’

  I grab the bag. ‘No!’

  We tug on the bag. It rips open. Everything bursts out. The salt lamp lands on the floor with a crack.

  ‘We’re gonna get in trouble!’ he cries.

  ‘Theodore?’

  It’s Mrs Fraser. We freeze.

  ‘Why did you leave the first-aid room?’ she asks. We both take a few steps back. ‘Jessie, aren’t you supposed to be down at the …’

  Mrs Fraser stops talking as she notices the bag and the salt lamp on the floor.

  ‘Isn’t that Miss Sparrow’s?’

  Theodore starts crying.

  Mrs Fraser takes us to her office and asks lots of questions about who did what and why. Theodore cries but doesn’t dob on me. I feel sad for him, but I’m scared and stay quiet. Mrs Fraser knows it was me. She tells Theodore he’ll be in trouble if he doesn’t tell her what happened, even if he didn’t do anything. It’s not dobbing when it’s about something serious like stealing. We’ll both be in even more trouble if we don’t explain ourselves. Theodore keeps crying. He snots all over his jumper.

  They call Kay and Theodore’s dad, Mr Park. Kay arrives first. She’s so angry she won’t talk to me. Then Mr Park arrives. He is a tall skinny man. Even though he has a young face, he’s bald. He smells like some of the people at Grandma’s nursing home, like musty cigarettes. He wipes away the tears on Theodore’s cheeks.

  ‘Nothing’s worth crying this much, little man,’ he says nicely.

  Mrs Fraser talks to Kay and Mr Park first and then brings us in. Now Kay looks really mad and Mr Park looks … well, bored? He fiddles with a bright red lighter.

  ‘Now, Jessie. Theodore. I’m going to give you one last chance to explain yourselves,’ Mrs Fraser says.

  I say nothing. Theodore sniffles.

  ‘Just spit it out!’ Kay says and prods me.

  ‘It’s no big deal, we just want to understand,’ Mr Park adds. He smiles at Theodore and gives him a tissue. He smiles at me too, a real smile, and his eyes wrinkle all soft and kind around the edges. It makes me miss Dad.

  Mrs Fraser sighs. ‘This is a very serious matter. One or both of you went into the staff room without permission, took Miss Sparrow’s lamp and then hid it in Theodore’s bag. It was broken in the process. Since you won’t talk to me, I don’t know if it was an accident or if you meant to do it.’

  ‘Well, of course it was an accident,’ Mr Park says.

  Mrs Fraser ignores him. ‘Normally, we’d just give you a warning, but given you have been so uncooperative, I’ve decided to suspend you both for the rest of the week. Stealing is not tol
erated at this school. When you return on Monday, I expect you both to apologise to Miss Sparrow.’

  Theodore wails.

  ‘It’s alright, little man,’ Mr Park says.

  ‘Mr Park, I hope you see this is a big –’

  ‘I will discuss this with my son, Mrs Fraser, don’t worry,’ he says. He puts his arm around Theodore and they both leave.

  Kay doesn’t put her arm around me. She doesn’t tell me it’s alright. She apologises to Mrs Fraser and then grabs my bag and pushes me out of the office. As we leave school, all I get is an angry, ‘You’re going to explain everything when we get home.’

  Mr Park and Theodore are outside the school gates. When Mr Park sees us leaving, he takes Theodore’s hand and catches up to us.

  ‘You’re going our way,’ he says to Kay.

  ‘I’m so sorry about this,’ Kay says.

  ‘No need to apologise,’ Mr Park says. He takes out a cigarette. ‘D’you mind?’ He lights it before Kay can respond. ‘The suspension is just to the end of the week.’ He turns to Theodore. ‘A few days off, then you go back and say sorry to Miss Sparrow. We’ll make her a nice card and we’ll buy her a new salt thingy, whatever it is.’

  Kay nods. ‘Of course. Just tell me how much –’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he says. Smoke billows out of his smile like a friendly dragon.

  ‘No, really,’ Kay says.

  ‘Please, it’s nothing. Maybe come over with Jessie sometime. She’s a star. Theodore loves her, don’t you, little man?’

  Theodore sniffles but nods.

  We walk in silence for a bit, crossing the road. I watch Mr Park smoking. Whenever he breathes out, he points his head away from us and blows the smoke in the other direction. He smiles like he’s sorry and waves his hand about to get rid of the smell. His hands shake a little.

  ‘You know, my family … we’re going through a tough time,’ Mr Park says. ‘Jessie’s helped Theodore so much.’

  Kay just nods.

  ‘It’s really nice to meet you, Jessie, even under these circumstances,’ he says to me with his head turned, smoke blowing the other way. He turns back and smiles. ‘I don’t know what happened today, but Theodore’s told me enough about you for me to know there couldn’t have been any meanness to it.’

  What did Theodore tell his parents? I’m not like that.

  I stop walking. ‘I stole the salt lamp and put it in Theodore’s bag.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’ Kay yells. ‘Theodore’s in trouble because of you!’

  Mr Park asks gently, ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Salt’s good for sick people,’ I say.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Kay demands.

  But Mr Park knows. ‘Thank you, Jessie,’ he says, so warm and full, like I’ve really done something worthy of being thanked.

  Kay frowns but doesn’t say anything else. We keep walking. When we get to our street, Kay says to Mr Park, ‘Well, this is us, um, thanks for being so understanding.’

  ‘We’re just two streets up!’ Mr Park says. ‘Listen, here’s my card. If you’ve got work and can’t get a babysitter, let me know. I work, but our nanny Stephanie is a star.’

  Kay takes the card slowly, like she doesn’t know if she really wants it. ‘Okay. Thanks.’

  As we walk home, I watch Mr Park and Theodore for as long as I can. He keeps one arm around Theodore, except when he’s puffing out his cigarette smoke and shooing it away.

  At home, Kay takes my Alemayehu book.

  ‘Go to your room,’ she barks.

  She phones a lot of people. I listen to her talking through my bedroom door. Then she hooks her iPod up to the speakers in the kitchen and plays old episodes of Hamish and Andy as she makes dinner. It rains a little. She turns it up super loud. I can hear every word, every laugh. The laughs are never her own.

  The speakers go off.

  ‘Dinner!’ she calls.

  We eat pasta she actually cooked, not the microwave stuff.

  Finally, she asks, ‘What did you mean about the salt?’

  I shrug.

  ‘I want to know why you did this. I’m really annoyed, Jessie. You’ve messed everyone around!’

  I poke my pasta. ‘Theodore’s mum is sick. The salt mine DVD and lots of websites say it can help make people better.’

  ‘Is that why you stole it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell Mrs Fraser?’

  ‘I dunno.’

  Silence. Then Kay says, ‘You know it’s wrong to steal things, no matter what.’

  I want to yell NO IT’S NOT. What about Bezawit and Alemayehu? What about people who are hungry and no one helps them? But I just say, ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ll apologise to Miss Sparrow.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You know, those salt lamps are just pseudoscience bullshit. It’s not real medicine. The best thing you can do to help Theodore’s mum is be nice to Theodore.’

  I think YOU’RE WRONG but I still don’t say it. I finish, push my bowl towards Kay and mumble, ‘Thank you.’

  Kay puts the bowls in the sink. ‘What’s wrong with Theodore’s mum?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  Kay sighs. ‘Okay, so, I can’t get out of work, I’ve had too much time off. I called Mr Park earlier and he said you can stay at Theodore’s house.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say. Not like I have a choice.

  ‘Go brush your teeth and off to bed.’

  ‘Okay.’

  I do what Kay says. She seems annoyed, but by the time I’m in my jammies, she comes to my room and hugs me really tight.

  ‘I love you,’ she says.

  She returns my Alemayehu book. I read it until 10:57 pm. I’m close to the end. Alemayehu has just caught a cold after lying next to a cage of lions. His father had lions and he missed them, so when a carnival came to the town, he snuck out and slept with them all night.

  The cold seeps in around me. I wonder if Alemayehu felt like he was in a cage, being stuck in England away from his people. Our house feels like a cage now, with the bars on every door and window. I imagine lions peering in, feeling sad for me, wondering if I want to be free.

  Alemayehu is going to die in the book soon. I don’t want to read that. I go to bed instead and listen to the rain. Kay still has the TV on.

  Jessie

  In the morning, Kay drops me at Theodore’s house. It’s old, but like rich people old, where everything is well taken care of.

  Theodore’s room is huge. He has posters of Korean pop bands all over the walls and lots of books, some of them in Korean. He shows me the weird letters. He can’t read them even though he can speak Korean, but his mum promises she’ll teach him when she gets better. He also has a mini-tent in his room shaped like a castle, full of cushions and fairy lights. It’s too small for the two of us so he lets me sit in it. He sits outside and we pat his dog Broom, this fat floppy golden retriever who pants a lot so it looks like he’s laughing. He’s what the dog in Up would look like in real life.

  ‘Breakfast’s ready!’ Stephanie calls.

  We run with Broom to the kitchen. Being suspended is great! Stephanie gives us pancakes with strawberries, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. We do an hour of homework and make a card to say sorry to Miss Sparrow. After that, we watch documentaries about tigers and make paper cranes. Broom wants to be with us but he can’t be trusted around paper, so he sits outside the living room and whimpers.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell on me?’ I ask Theodore.

  ‘I didn’t want you to get in trouble,’ he says.

  ‘But I got you in trouble.’

  ‘You didn’t mean to!’ he says cheerfully, like he never even cried about it. ‘Anyway, we’ll make it right! Dad says we’ll buy two salt lamps, one for Mum and one for Miss Sparrow. He says only medicine can make Mum better but she might like it because it’s pretty. I think they’re pretty too. Do you want one?’

  Theodore’s smile is back. The
re are photos of Theodore’s mum everywhere. She smiles just like him, with her whole face. I wonder where she is but don’t ask. We make forty-three paper cranes.

  I’ve decided Theodore is my friend. I don’t mind if he’s a bit annoying. He doesn’t mind that I’m grumpy or don’t like the same things he likes. When I go home that night, I promise I’m going to be a proper friend from now on. I’ll try not to get angry at him when he sings in my face or tries to make me dance.

  I thank Kay for letting me stay at ‘my friend’s house’ and feel warm inside.

  The next day, we do our homework after a breakfast of scrambled eggs with sausages and hash browns like you get at hotels. Afterwards, we listen to music and make cranes. Broom howls so we let him in but we yell at him when he tries to pinch one. Theodore teaches me the Korean word for no – AH-NEE! – and we yell it at Broom every time he gets close. Stephanie cleans the house and pops her head in every now and then to ‘check on Broom’ but I know she’s checking on us. Theodore talks about albinos, which are animals and people that are completely white, and the time Broom got beaten up by a small dog because he’s a bit of a wimp. I want to tell Theodore he’s a good friend but I don’t. We make sixty-two paper cranes. On Friday, we make fifty-one. Waffles for breakfast.

  The weekend comes and I listen to a radio show online about Alemayehu. It features a presenter, a British-Ethiopian poet, and the author of my Alemayehu book. I feel angry listening to it, with all this talk that tries to justify everything the British did. They make Queen Victoria out like she’s this nice old lady. The poet sticks up for Alemayehu though, saying how they didn’t care for him properly. I google him and find his poem about the Battle of Adwa on YouTube. I listen to it and feel happy again.

  ‘You’ve done so much research for this one,’ Kay says over my shoulder as the video ends. ‘Once you finish your Alemayehu book, we can move onto the next history.’

  I nod, but I just can’t. Not yet.

  Monday. First day back at school since being suspended. I hum the POW POW POW! song as I wait for Theodore. He doesn’t come at all, not even late after the bell rings. I say sorry to Miss Sparrow on my own.

  ‘I understand you wanted to do something nice for your friend,’ Miss Sparrow says. ‘But stealing is never the right thing to do, okay?’