by Lean, Sarah
Jack was on my bed, his paws on the windowsill, watching, whistling softly through his nose.
George was silent. And that made it worse. I stopped myself from telling George even though I was on the verge of spilling my guts. I sat down on my bed, buried my head on my arms. George wouldn’t understand. I mean, even in my own head it didn’t sound like something I’d do or something that he’d like about me.
“Shame you didn’t get a new bike for your birthday like you thought you would,” George said. “But then it would have been your new one you lost, so probably just as well.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. For some reason, George talking about it kind of made it irritating to hear about again. I felt angry. I wanted him of all people not to be here right now. He looked around the walls and at the constellations on the ceiling like he’d never been in my bedroom before and it was all new and interesting.
“Something else happened, didn’t it?” George said.
“No, it didn’t!” I snapped. “It’s none of your business anyway.”
“Just tell me,” George said.
“No,” I said. “I’m going out.”
I ran. Jack Pepper ran with me. I hated the fact that he was sticking by me when … when it was his owner’s dad that I’d done this to. Why didn’t Jack understand? I wished he did. I couldn’t bear to have him looking up at me like I was still his hero.
I turned into Great Western Road, let the buzz and roar of the traffic drown out the shame in my head. It was Grizzly Allen’s mobility scooter. He needed a hip replacement. He couldn’t walk well. How was I supposed to have known? If anyone knew the truth about what had happened, they’d think that I was trying to hurt Grizzly on purpose.
I ran along the pavement until I reached the empty lot where an old shop had been knocked down. I climbed through the chicken-wire fence that somebody had cut and peeled back so people could dump their rubbish in there. I sat down in the middle of the garbage and I hated that Jack came and sat next to me.
“Why do you have to be so loyal?” I shouted. “Why don’t you just leave me alone? I wish I’d never met you!”
Jack’s tail swished once and his ears dropped.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I groaned.
Questions spun around inside my head. How long would it take for people to forget that I was the ‘hero’ who had rescued a little dog from the pond? Would I ever live down ruining Grizzly’s scooter if everyone found out the truth?
Just then George turned up. He had followed me too. He curled his fingers in the wire, staring at me from outside the fence. I didn’t know what was stopping him from questioning me more. He knew something was wrong.
Eventually George said, “Beatrix Jones dyed her hair pink.” He fiddled with a bit of loose wire and my stomach surged. “I think it’s kind of cool,” he said. “Changing yourself like that.”
George crawled through the hole in the fence.
“I saw her in town earlier.”
“And?” I said. It was like being in a dark alley, not knowing what was going to leap out and get me. I couldn’t stand it if George knew about the scooter or about me not really saving Jack Pepper.
“I prefer Beatrix out of everyone else in our class, except you, Leo.”
I shrugged. Still waiting, not really hearing anything except for the pounding of blood in my ears.
“But I don’t understand why you are trying to be friends with Miller.”
I felt like a gladiator on his knees in the sand without a shield, waiting for a stronger gladiator to deliver a killer blow, but in the end George said, “I suppose some dogs aren’t that good at swimming.”
George let me off the hook and I didn’t deserve it, but it just made me more angry. Mad that he was a much better person than me.
“Don’t you have homework or something?” I said.
He stood there for ages not saying anything, then I couldn’t believe it: Warren and his mates cycled up to the fence.
“What are you doing?” Warren said, kind of half friendly, half smiling with his crooked mouth, through the crooked wire. I couldn’t speak. It felt like there were too many gladiators in the arena. Warren probably thought I’d told George about what happened with Jack Pepper.
I looked at George.
“Nothing,” I said, because I needed him to know that I hadn’t told George. But it came out all wrong. It sounded like I was saying George was nothing.
Warren’s eyes held mine, but he spoke to George.
“Did you hear that Leo saved this dog from the pond?”
I swallowed, hard. Jack Pepper’s legs were stiff and quivering. The wiry hair on his back stood up, he growled, but he looked at me as if he wanted a word, a sign that he should do something about Warren Miller and his mates.
“I know.” George hesitated and I worried that Warren might think that meant more than it actually did. “So?”
“You’re a hero, aren’t you, Leo?” Warren smirked because I think he could tell that George didn’t know any more than that. The bike twisted under Warren as he tried to keep his balance. “Come on, Leo. You belong with us. We’re going down the Rec. We’ve got something else for you.”
I glared. Jack growled like a much bigger dog. I had to keep on Warren’s good side though. I couldn’t risk him saying anything about what happened with the scooter and the dog, not to George, not to anyone.
Surely he wouldn’t, not without letting on that he’d stolen the scooter and hurt Jack Pepper. We were bound together in this. We had to trust each other, which felt all wrong, because if one of us fell, one of us said anything, then we were both going to go down together. But I didn’t want any more challenges. Not from Warren Miller.
I saw a question in the twitch of Jack’s eyebrows when I hooked my fingers under his collar and pulled him towards me.
“I’ve got to take Jack back to his owner. Stupid dog ran off again.” I didn’t mean it. I just hoped Jack Pepper didn’t understand.
“You’re all right, Leo,” Warren said. “You’re still one of us. See you later then.” It felt like a threat, not an invitation.
Before I’d even got up, Warren cycled off, looking back with that half-smile that really bit me, like he’d got me all worked out now.
George huffed, folded his arms like it was the first time he’d ever done it and it was a complicated thing for him to do. He narrowed his eyes.
“What?” I said.
“Oh, nothing,” he mimicked. I felt the sting in my cheeks and the tightness in my throat. “You’ve changed, Leo,” he said. “All of a sudden you think you’re it just because you hang around with them. Maybe you’re the one that’s nothing.”
“At least I don’t dye my hair to make me more popular!” I snapped.
George flinched liked he’d been stung by a wasp.
“At least Beatrix and me don’t pretend to be something we’re not.”
That hurt more than anything else because it was true.
“It’s me and Beatrix now, is it?”
“Yes,” he said, without hesitating. Then he said, “I’m going. I don’t know what I’m even doing here with you.”
Then George was the one who left. He didn’t look back. He left me there. Part of me wanted to shout out to George and tell him the truth, but I couldn’t find the strength to do it.
Jack Pepper saw the cat before I did, before I had the chance to think any more about what had just happened. The dog leaped out of my arms as Mrs Pardoe’s ginger cat slunk past the back fence. Jack whined, his tail flicked, his ears were high and trembling. He ran up and down looking for a way through. The cat kept his yellow eyes on Jack, but there wasn’t a twitch of fear in his fur.
Why wasn’t the cat scared of Jack? I thought dogs chased cats. Something twisted in my stomach. I’d told people the cat chased Jack! Somebody was going to question my story sooner or later. But why had the cat slowed to take a good look at Jack?
I couldn’t move fas
t enough when I realised that Jack was looking towards the hole in the wire at the front of the lot! I threw myself at him and tackled him down to the ground, then scooped him up in my arms. He was startled. He licked my face, but twisted round to look over my shoulder. The shadow of a big, big cat, with a shaggy ruff around its neck and wide padded paws, twitched its tail and disappeared around the corner.
I took the dog back to Grizzly’s, found the door on the latch, put Jack inside, telling him, “Don’t you ever be a hero, Jack Pepper. It’s not worth it.”
George was off school again. Warren and his mates were quiet behind me in class and I didn’t dare look at them. I hid in the loos at break.
It felt like this was going to be the longest day ever, as if time had slowed, like it was just as disappointed as me at the way things turned out. I didn’t want to be famous any more.
I didn’t feel like fighting any gladiators on the long walk home after school. I could imagine the crowd groaning.
Where have all the heroes gone? they shouted
“There’s nothing to see,” I said. “Not today.”
We want a show, we want a battle!
They threw rotten tomatoes and hard crusts of bread at me; they hissed and booed. I kept my head down, ducking unwanted food and disapproval, disappointment that I had nothing worthwhile for them.
Grizzly Allen was leaning on his wall, bundled up against the cold with a thick scarf. It was too late to cross the road to avoid him. I couldn’t not speak to him, but I dreaded him mentioning his scooter.
“The meteor’s coming today,” Grizzly said as I passed him. I couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Everyone’s going to wish on it. How about you, Leo?” he asked.
I ignored the question and crouched down. Jack blinked slowly while I scratched his head through the bars of the gate.
“What do you think a dog wishes for, Grizzly?”
“Not much,” Grizzly said. “Probably a good bone to chew or a tickle of his belly.” There was warmth in his answer, like these were probably the finest wishes anyone could make. As much warmth as Jack had in his eyes right then. All bright and just happy that I was telling him to sit, then lie down or give me a paw.
“A dog doesn’t ask for much, except for loyalty. And he’ll give it back in return.”
Grizzly’s bin was tipped over again. He growled as he picked it up, collecting the chicken bones, empty tomato-soup tins and biscuit packets scattered in his front garden.
“Is it that cat getting in the rubbish again, Jack?” he muttered. “Not rubbish to the cat though, is it? It’s a rich feast to him.” He laughed. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing is wrong.”
I scratched the ginger marks on Jack’s back.
“He’s a good dog, Grizzly,” I said.
“Is he now? Running off out of the gate that time?” He was smiling with all that sunshine inside him again. “Lucy didn’t get him to be a good dog. No, no.” I didn’t understand. “She says Jack makes her feel brave. There’s goodness about him all right, but not the ordinary kind.”
Grizzly got it too. That Jack Pepper wasn’t asking anything much from us.
“You’ll be wanting to take Jack Pepper out again then, Leo?”
I nodded. There was something I had to do, and for some reason I thought it would be a lot easier if Jack Pepper was with me.
Jack was at my heels again. He made our walk, every step, important, all the way to the corner of Great Western.
The dummies in the dress-shop window were wearing winter fur coats. George’s mum worked here and I knew he’d be inside, probably reading a book. I walked past the shop a few times, thinking about what I was going to say.
George had been my friend for a long time. It couldn’t be right that we didn’t fit together any more. This fame thing would all go away soon. Then I’d be the same old Leo again. George hadn’t done anything wrong. He had never made me do anything that I shouldn’t, not like Warren.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stared at the dummies and my own reflection in the window. I couldn’t leave things as they were.
I told Jack Pepper to wait outside, knowing he would. He sat, watched every step I made, and I wondered then what he was thinking. Even though I thought he could see through me and the bad things that I’d done, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter to him what I’d done; something else was far more important. That helped a lot, and that’s how I could go in and face George.
The door pinged when I opened it. Jack waited, leaning forward to watch me through the glass. There were no customers in the shop, only George’s mum coming up the stairs from the cellar with a box of hats.
“Hello, Leo,” she said, and I guessed by the way she was pleased to see me that George hadn’t said anything about us falling out.
“It’s like a zoo in here,” I said because of the fur coats everywhere.
“Lions and tigers and bears,” she smiled. “Oh my!” Then she leaned over and whispered, “Glad you’re here. See if you can cheer George up. He’s not been quite himself recently. Maybe that nasty flu took it out of him.”
She put a golden fur hat on my head and laughed.
“Suits you,” she said, but I pulled it off and it made my hair static and when I tried to pat it down it just got worse.
I slowly made my way over to squat on the windowsill next to where George was sitting, reading a book.
He stared at my hair.
“Positive electrons,” he said. “It’s because there’s no humidity in the air. Wet your hand.”
I licked my hand and pushed my hair off my face. It sort of worked. I touched the sleeve of the deep orangey fur coat on the dummy in the window.
“Fake fur,” George said without looking up. He twisted his body away from me. “They’re all fake.”
I pushed back the hairs with my thumb; they were pale underneath.
“It looks real to me.”
George huffed. This was all too heavy and difficult and I didn’t know what else to say without it sounding like I was talking about us.
“Come out for a bit,” I said.
George shook his head.
“Please,” I said, but he ignored me so I fiddled with a coat sleeve. George waited for ages before he pointed to a spotted black page in his book that looked like the join-the-dots constellations on my bedroom ceiling.
“I’m busy with something important,” he said. “I’m reading about Sirius.”
“What’s serious?”
“Sirius.” He sighed. “Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky. It’s also known as the Dog Star because it’s part of the constellation Canis Major.”
I looked at a diagram box, at the description.
“The eye of the Great Dog,” I read.
I glanced through the window, at Jack Pepper with his nose against the glass, watching.
“Look, can we just forget what happened, George?”
“What has happened?”
“Nothing.” I’d said it again, nothing, and this time I saw why that word made George’s shoulders go tense and his breathing get loud. It wasn’t because George thought I was talking about him. It was because I hadn’t told him the things that were something. That’s what best mates are for. That’s why Jack Pepper stood by me and I hadn’t even said sorry to him. They just want to know what’s going on with you.
But I couldn’t tell George the rest. Things had gone too far and I wasn’t sure if he’d accept it all, not now.
“I just want to go back to how things were,” I said. I even wanted to take back being a hero.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside the shop. A car horn blasted. Engines revved, more car horns. I looked through the window, saw people gathered on the pavement, their mouths wide open. Jack was still waiting, his ears cocked, his eyes turned to the sky like everyone else.
I pushed up against the glass. The crossroads was at a standstill. All the cars had stopped at the traffic lights and ever
ybody was leaning out of their windows. I don’t think they saw what I saw. Jupiter throwing something across the sky. A huge glowing ball left an arc of smoke and fire, like a cut through the sky. Unzipping it.
“The meteor!” I said.
George dropped his book and pressed his face to the glass.
And then … BOOM!
A sound punched into my chest. People outside crouched, covered their ears. The earth shook from the explosion; windows shattered. We ducked as if it would reach us. Glass tinkled as it spilled across the road. When I looked up again, the slash of fire in the sky had curved over the buildings away from us.
Then there was a soft sound of relief from everyone outside. Applause. I looked at George. His mum had come over and she had her hands up to her face and her mouth open and her eyes were shining.
“What was that noise?” she gasped.
“Sonic boom!” George breathed. “That’s what it was. A shock wave. Truly spectacular.”
I couldn’t stop looking at the sky. At the dust sprinkling down from the roof of a building across the way. My skin prickled. Something else was happening.
And then there was a rumble.
I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
It was far away and close at the same time.
I didn’t know what was happening. The ground felt like jelly.
KABOOM!
Another thundering explosion.
Through the window I saw the whole middle of the crossroads crack and crumble.
The ground collapsed.
Dropped.
Fell away.
There were deep thundering, breaking, ripping sounds. Car horns were on full alert. Car alarms, shop alarms, fire alarms all going off at once, hammering in our ears. People in the street ran. I looked up and saw a crack rip like lightning across the join of the window and the ceiling.
“Run!” George’s mum yelled, grabbing us both.
We pushed fake fur coats out of the way to get to the door.
“Keep running!” George’s mum shouted, flinging the door open. “The shop’s coming down!”