by Lean, Sarah
“You’re gonna have to be quick and not go too near. Just do what I say, stick close and you’ll be fine.”
Jack Pepper joined in, leaping beside me, ears twitching as if he was listening out for the bear. We were like a couple of soldiers, advancing in formation, and I didn’t have to ask him, he just moved like my shadow.
We approached the bear, growling, huffing and breathing his hot, bitter breath into the frosty evening.
“That way, Jack!” I said. We separated. Jack distracted the bear, dancing around him, barking and yipping until we’d cornered him outside Mrs Pardoe’s house and roared at the beast until he lay down and rolled over for us.
Jack sat beside me in the glow of the street light and gazed up like he could see what I could see.
The winners! Jupiter bellowed and punched his mighty thumb to the sky. All arms went up; everyone cheered my name. Le-o! Le-o! Le-o!
“Bow, Jack, bow!” I said. “They love us.” Jack wagged his tail. “Look at us,” I said grinning down at him. “We’re heroes.”
When I looked up again, Jupiter had reached down and touched the head of the statue of the lion by his throne. I saw the lion shake the dust from its fur. I saw it open its mouth, come to life and roar.
I took Jack back to Grizzly’s and opened the door for him. He went in but stopped and looked over his shoulder at me, like he didn’t want to go home just yet. I heard him whine when I closed the door, but there was somewhere else I had to be.
Warren and all his mates waited in the shadow of the ragged flint and moss of the ancient Roman wall along the edge of the Rec. Warren walked out from amongst them, slow and easy. There was a lot of whispering which for some reason sounded louder in the dark, with only the moon and stars and a couple of street lights making yellowy circles around us.
“Wasn’t sure you’d come,” Warren said. He sighed. “Thing is, some of us still aren’t sure you’ve got what it takes to hang out with us. You’re going to have to prove yourself first.
“I thought I already had,” I said.
“You have to do something … to prove you’re one of us,” he said. The boys parted, showed what they had for me. “You have to push it down the field and send it into the pond.”
I looked at the old granny mobility scooter that they’d found and it bothered me.
“Whose is it?” I said.
“It was abandoned out the back of the chemist’s,” Warren said. “We took it, hid it and waited ’til dark, waited for someone like you.”
“Why do I have to do it?” I said.
“We have to be sure you’re on our side,” Warren said.
“It doesn’t work then? It’s not somebody’s?”
“It’s useless. We’re doing everyone a favour by getting rid of it, cleaning up the town.” There was a ripple of laughter, but Warren silenced the others. He paced up and down. “Fame,” he said. “They say it’s a fifteen minute thing.” He draped his arm over my shoulders. His armpit was a bit rank. “But you want more than that, don’t you, Leo? You’re proving that you’ve got what it takes to be one of us.”
I wasn’t going to be a gladiator in the real world, not when the nearest we have are boxers and wrestlers. I wanted to be like a gladiator though. I wanted other people to think I was fierce, brave, strong and worthwhile. Which was entirely different.
I dropped my bike. Took an uneasy breath. Walked over to the scooter. They couldn’t see what I could see: me, the victor, and the abandoned chariot of a defeated gladiator.
“Le-o!” they chanted again.
The moon made a shimmering target on the dark pond, like a trap door in the amphitheatre where all the destruction, the losers, the broken and defeated things go. I pushed hard against the mobility scooter and ran with it, down the slope, and let it go. The scooter tipped over into the pond. It bubbled and sank, disappeared into the black depths. I punched the air. They laughed, roared and cheered my name. It made my teeth tingle. This was being a gladiator for real.
School for the next few days was completely different. Fist bumping all over the place, back patting, sitting on the back row, being one of Warren’s mates while George was still off school. I was famous now. People I hardly even knew were asking me to take out their teacher!
I was following Warren and his mates to our corner (our corner!) of the playing field at break time when Beatrix Jones caught my sleeve. She stood in front of me, narrowed her eyes and asked, “Why’s George not here?”
“He’s sick,” I said.
“Hmm,” she scowled. “Sick of what?”
I shrugged. I didn’t know what she meant.
“I’m surprised,” she said.
I hesitated. “He’s got flu. Why’s that surprising?”
“Not about George, about you.”
I guessed it was a compliment, that she was surprised I’d done something people noticed and was now one of the popular kids.
“Thanks,” I said.
She huffed. “I mean surprised you’ve been fooled by Miller, idiot!”
Beatrix Jones was weird, so I didn’t listen.
I went to catch up with Warren which was when I overheard him saying to Josh to spread the word that they were meeting at the Rec again on Friday after school. The message didn’t exactly get given to me, but I didn’t have anywhere else I wanted to be. The thing is, once you’ve tasted fame, you just can’t get enough of it. You know when you’ve eaten half a bag of crisps and you’re saving the rest for later, but you go back to the kitchen to finish them after only a few minutes of waiting, plus you get a piece of cold chicken from the fridge and maybe some cheese? That’s what fame feels like. A feast.
So, on Friday, I went.
Warren was leading the others across the field, all of them on glossy newish bikes. Warren looked down at my bike, at the torn seat, the clunking gears, the tyres worn smooth. Then I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t exactly invited this time. My bike was half the size of his and everyone else’s, and the brakes had just about had it. “Hey,” I said. “What are you all doing?”
Warren grinned.
“We’ve got business in town. Private business. Maybe see you some other time.”
“Yeah, sure, I was just, you know …” but he wasn’t listening.
Warren’s knees bent, he yanked up the front of his bike and they cycled past while I cringed inside. My cheeks flamed. I kept my back turned. Why had things changed so quickly?
Behind me I heard barking. It was Jack Pepper, darting about in front of Warren’s bike. What was he doing here? Warren twisted and put his foot down quick, but Jack ran away. He tore past me, turned and raced back, straight towards me. He stopped, looked up. I didn’t know what he was doing there or asking me to do.
Warren called my name. In the second it took to look at Warren, Jack Pepper whipped past me again. Warren skidded over, rippling up the turf, and stopped beside me.
“Changed my mind,” he said. “Help us catch the dog.”
I hesitated.
“You’re with us, aren’t you?” he said, but it didn’t sound like a question. “Leo! Get the dog. Do it for us.”
So I had to decide.
I was just going to get Jack. That’s all. I thought he would stop for me. I had to prove myself again. Anyway, what was the worst that could happen?
Warren zipped past me, gaining on Jack Pepper. He circled round and herded him towards the rest of his mates coming back across the field. I saw an opportunity. Up on my pedals, I pushed hard and headed towards the pond. I saw all the others on their bikes closing a circle, corralling the dog towards me. I was almost at the edge of the pond and whistled. Jack tore across the field, straight towards me, then he turned sharply in front of me. I braked. The wheels didn’t stop. The back of the bike skidded across the damp grass, slipped from under me.
I couldn’t put my feet down.
There was nothing underneath me.
I fell into the pond, pulling my bike on top of me.
Cold water thumped the air out of my lungs. My legs kicked against something sharp under the water. It was all I could do to swim up and get the bike off me.
“Help me out!” I panted.
Josh and the others dropped their bikes and for a moment I thought they were coming to help. Jack raced back towards me. One word from Warren and they rushed at the dog from all sides. I was left there with the cold biting my skin, my jaw tight, my teeth aching, trying to hold on to the grass at the edge.
Jack barked, like a much bigger dog, protecting a small territory in front of me.
“No, Jack!” I breathed.
Warren looked down at me, twisting his hips to try to balance the bike. I put my head down to try to lever myself up but my breath was all gone.
Then I heard the yelp. The surprise cry of pain from the dog when Warren and his bike toppled and landed on Jack Pepper. The sound from Jack got in my teeth and my eyes. It tested something inside of me. I tried to shout, but the bitter cold had taken my breath and my strength, and I could only wheeze, “You shouldn’t have done that!”
“It was an accident!” Warren said. Then, just like that, he changed.
I saw everything evaporate, all the power drain from me, in that one moment. Warren growled, a sound like dissatisfaction in his throat.
“Let’s go,” he told the others.
I heard the click of chains on their bikes as they all left. Someone said, “Leo’s gone to get the mobility scooter back,” and they laughed.
I grabbed some reeds, heaved my chest up, waited and breathed. And then I felt that little dog’s teeth on my wrist. I flinched, cried out. Jack softened his mouth and tightened his jaw around my coat sleeve. I felt that tiny dog pulling.
I sat there, dripping. I trembled and shivered, too cold to move or breathe. I couldn’t believe they’d left me there, that Warren had hurt Jack. I couldn’t shake that away, even if it was an accident.
Jack was holding a back leg up off the ground but his face wasn’t saying anything about that. His ears were folded, up bright, like he was saying so many things except anything about the hurt.
He watched me intently, looking at my leg. My trousers were ripped. I’d got blood on my shin too. I wiped at it, trickling and dripping. Jack hopped over when I put out my hand and it was like an extra punch in the stomach because I thought he was asking if I was all right even though his cut looked a lot worse than mine.
I looked around but there was no one there. I was glad that nobody else had seen that I had been part of this. But I just wanted Jack to go. That would have been easier because then I wouldn’t have to admit I was involved in what just happened. But he didn’t budge. I thought he was waiting for me and it was a long way home without my bike.
I closed my eyes and tried to wish him away. But that didn’t work either.
Jack Pepper hopped beside me. He stopped to lick his leg. I thought he must be expecting something from me. I was shivering so much and I couldn’t feel my hands, but I hooked that dog under my arm and headed back.
Grizzly Allen’s door wasn’t on the latch. I knocked. I called through the letter box but there was no answer. Jack Pepper licked his leg again and I knew I wasn’t going to tell Grizzly what had really happened.
I couldn’t think. I was so cold I just wanted to lie down and sleep.
I headed on down Clarendon Road, the dog in my arms, him looking up at me like he was still waiting for something from me. Still checking I was all right. But, because of him, I’d probably lost everything I thought I had. There was no way Warren would ask me to hang out with him again. Right then I just wanted to get rid of that dog and the way he looked into me, like he knew what I’d sent to the bottom of that pond and wondered why.
My head was weird and dreamy when I heard them murmuring and whispering. The audience in the amphitheatre muttered and shuffled, but I didn’t know what they were saying.
“You’re not supposed to be watching this,” I said. “There’s nothing to see. This isn’t one of the battles.”
I looked up at the empty space where Jupiter usually loomed over the crowd and when I looked back there was something in the road that shouldn’t have been there. Jupiter’s lion walked along the white lines in the middle of Clarendon Road.
He turned when he saw us, padded on to the pavement towards me and Jack Pepper, all casual, like we were going to meet. He looked like he owned the pavement, like this was his hunting ground, the houses were his hills and the street lights were his trees, and I was in his way.
I stopped. Jack Pepper wriggled under my arm and I didn’t know if I had the strength to dodge the lion. I didn’t think I should put Jack down, even though he wanted me to. I hunched him closer.
The lion slowed to a walk and sat down. It began to rain, but the lion just sat there, only a few metres away, looking like a fire in the hearth. His golden eyes and wide nose glistened as if he was inspecting us through our smell. I was tired and weak. It’s just my imagination. It’s not real.
I headed out to the road, skirted round the parked cars. I saw the lion between the cars, head low, watching as I passed. Jack Pepper whined, twisted in my arms; his legs paddled in the air as if he wanted to go after the lion.
We were nearly at my house when something made me look back through the pouring rain. Mrs Pardoe’s ginger cat was sitting on the pavement just where we’d stopped, as if he was claiming our space for himself.
Dad sat on the toilet lid, a hand under my armpit to stop me from slipping under the bubbles in the bath. I couldn’t talk, my teeth chattered too much. My head felt strange and nightmarey.
“It’s the shock, but you’re all right,” Dad said.
I wasn’t all right though.
The towel was warm. My bed was warm. But my bones were still cold.
Jack Pepper was next to me. I felt the warmth of him against my back. He was looking over my shoulder, and just the way he did that was too much. I closed my eyes because right then he was like some kind of beacon, lighting up, showing everyone the things I wished I hadn’t done or been involved with, the things that I wished hadn’t happened.
“Where did the dog come from, son?” Dad asked.
I imagined myself in the arena, the gladiator of Rome about to charge again. A great shadow fell over me. I was about to lose everything.
“I rescued him from the pond,” I lied.
Dad cooked breakfast. He was by the hob with a tea towel flipped over his shoulder, cracking eggs with one hand like the real pro he was. He had opera music on the radio and boomed out a song. I’d even been allowed to wear pyjamas at the table.
Dad made up his own words to the ice-cream song: “Just one more sausage and fried potat-o! Delicious bangers for my Le-oooo!”
He handed me a plate with a dad-sized heap of breakfast.
“A man’s start to the day!” He winked. He kept singing, ruffling Jack Pepper’s fur, scooping him up and kissing him.
“And my boy saaaaved the dog, this gorgeous doggy, Jack Peeeeepper-y!”
He swirled the tea towel over his head, kissed Jack one more time and threw another slice of bacon in the frying pan.
“So you jumped in the pond to save the dog,” Kirsty said. “And the dog got hurt on a supermarket trolley someone had dumped in there?”
She was repeating the story I’d told them. I nodded. It was easier to lie about what happened with a mouthful of toast, while Dad puffed up with pride and chucked my chin.
Milly fed pieces of sausage to Jack Pepper who was under the table, his swishing tail tickling my leg.
“Air’s best for his leg to heal,” Mum said. “I phoned Grizzly last night and told him the dog was here. He said he wasn’t worried because Jack was in safe hands.” She ruffled my hair which felt uncomfortable and I patted it back down. “Jack escaped through the gate when Grizzly went out of the front door to pick up his bin. Cats keep knocking it over, he said. He couldn’t manage walking the streets to look for him and
thought Jack would come home by himself. You’re to take him back when you’re ready, Leo.”
Mum went to leave for work but then stopped.
“Who were you out with yesterday?” she said.
I put a big piece of sausage in my mouth and started chewing so I couldn’t talk. I shook my head.
“No trouble with anyone else then?”
I swallowed the lump and it stuck in my throat.
“Just me,” I choked. But it was unnerving that she seemed to know to ask questions like that.
“Thought so,” she said. “Your dad and I did wonder. It’s not like you to go down the Rec.”
She left for work, saying everybody home by five for tea, we’ve got visitors coming. All I had to do was eat that mountain of food and then take the dog back.
“So your bike’s still at the Rec, right?” Kirsty said.
I looked at Dad but he wasn’t listening: he had bacon to turn. It wasn’t going to make sense to say the bike was in the pond. Why would the bike be in the pond if I’d dived in to save the dog?
“Yep,” I said, “I couldn’t carry both back.”
Dad glanced over. “Grizzly said he bumped into some trouble down the Rec recently.”
Did Grizzly mean Warren Miller? I didn’t want to know.
“And why was the dog in the pond again?” Kirsty pressed.
“Fell in,” I said, concentrating on balancing as many beans as possible on my fork.
“Leo dived in after him, no thought for himself. What-a-boy!” Dad said. My head was down, shovelling egg.
“Good job you weren’t lost in one of your gladiator daydreams, or you probably wouldn’t have even noticed,” Kirsty said.
Dad told Kirsty to stop teasing, that I’d had a bit of an ordeal.
“Leo’s a hero,” Dad said, “We should all be proud of him for rescuing Jack Pepper. Wait ’til I tell my customers!”
I imagined it – Dad telling everyone about me – and that was the thing about being a hero, people wanted to spread the news.