by Ade Adepitan
“DOYIN! DOYIN!”
Uh-oh, Mum.
“Arrrgh! Adedoyin Olayiwola Adepitan!” she shouted again. “What are you doing? Your agbada and sokoto are going to get filthy!”
The boys rolled off Ade quick-fast.
Ade sat up and brushed down his outfit. The mud wasn’t budging. Mum shook her head.
“I think it’s time for us to go.” Brian got to his feet.
Dexter nodded. “Yeah, my mum will be expecting me.”
Ade felt sad that his new friends were leaving. He slowly started to stand up. As he did so, a big hand grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. It was Shed.
“Great tackle,” he said, smiling.
That made Ade feel good.
The boys headed back into the house and towards the front door, passing the room in which Ade’s dad had just moved to the centre. The beat kicked in and a loud whoop came from Dad. “Come on, everybody, give me some space. Let me show you amateurs how it’s done!”
With all the aunties and uncles clapping and cheering, he started pointing at them and gyrating as if he were being electrocuted, before screaming at the top of his voice, “Hee! Hee! Oh yeah, now that’s how we do it in Lagos.”
Ade stared at his father in horror and then at his friends. Brian, Dexter and Shed were transfixed. Ade felt sick. He’d just made new friends and Dad was going to ruin it all with his crazy dance moves. What if he attempts The Worm? Ade thought. It’ll be a disaster.
Brian turned to Ade. “Mine does that as well,” he sighed. “Loves doing The Funky Chicken. It’s terrible.”
Ade laughed, mainly out of relief. He didn’t know what The Funky Chicken was, but everyone knew chickens couldn’t dance.
“We’ll see you tomorrow.” Dexter waved as he headed off on the short journey to his house next door.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow, Ade,” said Brian and Shed, walking in the opposite direction. They lived next to each other two doors up from Ade’s house.
Ade shut the door. His face ached from smiling so much. He heard the phone ring in the hallway. Mum answered it.
“How many mice?” she asked. “A hundred?!”
Ade could feel Mum’s glare boring into his back, but he was already rushing into the front room, planning to lose himself in the crowd.
“Hey, Dad,” he shouted. “Make room for me. Let’s do The Worm!”
CHAPTER 7
FOOTBALL, FOOTBALL AND MORE FOOTBALL
“Slow down,” Mum said. “You’ll give yourself indigestion eating your breakfast so fast.”
Ade stuffed some more toast in his mouth and strained to listen for the doorbell. What if he missed Dexter, Shed and Brian calling for him? They might think I’ve changed my mind, about everything – playing football, joining the Parsons Road Gang, being their friend. They’ll head off without me and never invite me to play with them again.
He swallowed the last piece of toast and ran to the window. There was still no sign of them, so he went up to his bedroom and paced around. Now all sorts of other thoughts started running through Ade’s head. Maybe they’d decided he was just too strange to have as a friend: the way he walked, his accent, his crazy family. Even though they’d had great fun at the party, after having had some time to think about it they now probably didn’t want to have anything to do with hi–
DING DONG!
Ade ran out of his room and slid down the banister on his tummy. (Sliding down the banisters was something he’d perfected since being in England.) He landed at the bottom of the stairs just before his mum, who was also heading to the door.
“It’s okay, I’ve got this,” he said, slightly out of breath.
Ade’s mum gave him a disapproving frown. She’s probably still upset about how quickly I ate breakfast… and the mice.
Ade opened the door to find Dexter, Shed and Brian standing in his front garden, all with cheesy grins on their faces.
“Are you coming out or what?” Dexter sounded impatient.
Using his index finger, Brian pushed his blue-rimmed glasses from the end of his nose back up his face. He smiled. “It’s time to see how good you really are, Ade.”
“As long as he doesn’t celebrate scoring goals by dancing like his dad we’ll be okay,” Shed chipped in.
“Cyborgs don’t dance they just win,” Ade replied. “Come on, let’s go.”
The boys all laughed and ran onto Parsons Road.
It was hot. Ade’s new friends were wearing shorts and football tops. Ade was not. Even though it was very warm, he didn’t really want the others to see the caliper on his left leg, so he was wearing a pair of bright blue tracksuit bottoms. Cyborg or not, he still felt a little self-conscious about the way he looked.
The others didn’t seem to have noticed though, or if they had they weren’t saying anything. It didn’t take long before Ade forgot about his caliper, his tracksuit bottoms and his self-consciousness, and just started having fun.
They played all day and then, the next morning, they did it all over again. And then the next day and the next.
Out on the pitch, Ade knew he was okay. He was a good passer, and a demon tackler, but he struggled with running. When he was in goal, though, everything changed. Ade could catch and save anything that came at him, even from close range. He was fearless!
“You know what?” Brian said one afternoon. “I’m not going to call you Ade or Doyin any more. You’re Cyborg Cat.”
“Cyborg Cat?” Ade repeated.
“Yeah,” Dexter said. “Because you have the reflexes of a cat. It’s one of your superpowers.”
Ade grinned. He loved superheroes. He loved that his friends thought he was one.
Ade had actually needed superpowers for the length of the game they’d just played. It had ended 108–107, though no one was quite sure if that was right as they’d sort of lost count after goal number 100.
He lay on his back having a rest. This is the best summer of my life, he thought. The horrible men in Queen’s Market seemed a long time ago now, even though the memory of that day did creep up on him sometimes. But I’m not the same scared little boy who shut myself away from the world.
“Oi!” a deep voice yelled.
Ade felt a surge of fear. He sat up.
“Look what you’ve done to my tomatoes,” Mr Smoothhead from up the road cried. He pointed a finger at the Parsons Road Gang. “Next time I see that ball in my garden I’ll put a hole in it the size of the Blackwall Tunnel, you little bleeders!”
“Sorry,” the boys said as one.
Dexter pulled them into a huddle. “Listen. There’s a place, a secret place, where we can play football on proper grass with proper goal posts, and away from grumps like Mr Smoothhead. My brother told me about it the other day.”
“So why are you just telling us now?” Brian demanded.
Dexter glanced at Ade’s caliper. “It’s a bit too far to walk. We’d have to go there on our bikes.”
Ade sighed deeply. “Well that’s no good for me, is it?” The other three looked at him. Ade could tell they were embarrassed. They think I’m going to say something about my leg. “I don’t have a bike!”
Dexter punched Ade on the shoulder. “Joker.”
Shed grinned. “No problem, you can jump on the back of mine.”
“Great,” Ade said. “Problem solved. Tomorrow we’ll saddle up and head off to the secret football pitch.”
CHAPTER 8
SILLY SAUSAGES AND BROKEN DREAMS
Ade’s friends arrived even earlier than usual that morning. Shed was on his bright red three-speed Raleigh Chopper, Dexter had a chrome BMX Diamondback and Brian had a blue six-speed racing bike.
“Ready?” Shed asked.
Ade nodded and climbed onto the back of Shed’s Chopper. His caliper scraped against the back wheel of the bike, even though it was covered up by his tracksuit bottoms. Ade tried to ignore it. “Come on, let’s go!”
“Wait a second,” Brian said. “You definite
ly got the sausages, Dex?”
“Yep, sausages packed.” Dexter pushed down hard on his pedals and set off, followed by Brian.
“Why do we need to bring sausages?” Ade asked.
Shed shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.” He pedalled after the other two.
Ade held on tight and watched the houses on Parsons Road fly by. He saw snapshots that now felt familiar and comforting to him: kids playing out front, Dexter’s older brother with his mates trying to fix up a car, women on the front step talking about what was on TV last night.
“Woof, woof… grrr… woof… woof.”
Hang on, Ade thought as they got to the top of the road. That sound is not familiar or comforting.
A huge Alsatian leapt over a garden wall and started chasing the boys.
“IT’S KING!” Dexter cried. “See, Brian, I told you he was big.”
Brian quickly glanced back. “Whoa, he’s huge!” His feet and the pedals became a blur.
“Faster, faster,” screamed Ade. He was no fool. Sitting on the back of Shed’s bike meant he’d be King’s first course if the dog caught up with them.
Shed stood up and pedalled even harder to try to get away.
“Sausages!” he screamed as they whizzed past Dexter.
“I’m trying,” Dexter cried, his fingers fumbling about in his coat pocket. He’d slowed right down and King was directly behind him now, teeth gnashing.
“THROW THE SAUSAGES, YOU SILLY SAUSAGE!” Brian yelled from the front.
Ade wished he could morph into Cyborg Cat right now. He’d pluck Dexter from his bike and bound to safety. But Dexter didn’t need a superhero. He needed a distraction. Pulling a string of raw, fat Wall’s sausages from his pocket, he hurled them at the dog. They soared through the air like some sort of weird flying caterpillar and were caught about six feet from the ground by the ravenous creature. With a yelp of pleasure, King completely forgot about the boys and greedily chomped down on the sausages.
“Woo hoo! Nice work Dexter!” Ade yelled.
“Talk about leaving it to the last minute,” Brian reprimanded from the front.
“Rubbish,” said Dexter. “I had the situation under complete control. Come on!”
He took the lead once more and they zoomed forwards, only stopping once they arrived at a place called Southern Road Playing Fields.
It was just as Dexter had described it – a full-size football pitch with huge goals and beautiful well-cut and well-maintained grass. Even the markings on the pitch looked beautiful to the boys. Ade couldn’t wait to put a ball on the bright white penalty spot and take a shot at goal.
“I can’t believe it,” Ade breathed. “Why isn’t anyone else here?”
“A local team used to play on the pitch,” explained Dexter, “but they went bankrupt and had to leave. The caretaker, Mr James, loves his job though, so he keeps it in good condition.”
“But doesn’t he mind when people use it?” asked Shed.
“Nah,” said Dexter. “He told my brother he’s fine with people using it as long as there’s no litter and no trouble.”
“Oi, stop yakking, you two,” shouted Brian, moving along the fence to a hole big enough for them to get through. “It’s time for kick-off.”
The boys played all morning and then flopped down on the grass to wolf down lunch.
“Let’s have another penalty competition after this,” said Dexter in between bites of peanut butter sandwich.
“Waste of time,” said Shed. “I’ll only win again.”
“Not a chance,” snorted Brian. “You only won before because Dex burped and put me off on my last penalty.”
“So how come you missed the other three before that?” Shed replied, laughing.
“Listen,” interjected Ade. “None of you are going to win, because I’m going to save every one of your penalties.”
“Yeah?” said Dexter. “We’ll see about that.”
The boys dropped their sandwiches. It was clearly time for the rematch.
Ade got in goal. Brian went first and scored three of his five penalties, followed by Dexter, who scored three as well.
Ade had hurled himself through the air as if they were playing on marshmallows rather than grass. He loved it, despite the fact that the goals were gigantic compared to him. He really had managed to pull off some spectacular saves.
Now the pressure was all on Shed.
He put the ball on the penalty spot and stepped back what seemed like miles. Ade rolled his eyes. Clearly, Shed favoured a very long run-up.
“Watch and learn my friends.” He charged towards the ball and unleashed a humungous shot. Ade lunged to his right as the ball went flying over the bar and landed about 30 metres behind the goal.
Brian and Dexter cracked up laughing. “We were watching but we didn’t learn much!”
Ade tried not to chuckle too much at Shed’s expression.
“I’ll go and get it, shall I?” Ade ran towards the ball, when suddenly his caliper started making a funny noise.
He stopped for a moment and then took another step.
CLUNK!
He took another step.
PING!
He looked down just in time to see a screw roll down his trouser leg and land on the grass. Ade frowned and stared at the small shiny object, but before he’d had time to work out fully what was happening, he heard a snapping sound. “Oh no!”
The other three boys came running over. “What’s the matter?” asked Shed.
“I think my caliper’s broken,” said Ade. “The rod’s snapped.” He tried to put pressure on his left leg, but the mechanism gave way and he crumpled to the ground.
He lay on the floor, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Without his caliper, he couldn’t walk. How was he going to get home? The bikes were at the other end of the field.
What are the boys going to think, when they realise I can’t walk any more? Or play football? Ade bit his lip. What will they think once they realise I don’t really have super-strength and I’m just a useless boy who can’t even stand on his own leg?
Ade could feel the tears starting to build as he imagined his friends walking away and leaving him there, helpless. Surely they wouldn’t want to be friends with him now?
That’s when he felt something under his arms.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got you,” said Brian.
Ade felt himself being lifted up off the ground. He looked to his side and saw that he had his arms around Brian and Dexter’s shoulders. They had helped him up.
“Come on, get on.”
Ade looked in front of him. It was Shed. He’d knelt down ready for Ade to get on his back.
Ade hopped on and Shed gave him a piggyback all the way to the bikes.
They didn’t say much on the ride home, which thankfully didn’t include another meeting with King. When they got to Ade’s house, the other three all helped him to his doorstep. Ade sat down and looked at his friends.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Hey, we’re the Parsons Road Gang,” said Brian. “We stick together through thick and thin.”
“Yeah,” Shed said. He took a step back and, in dramatic American TV presenter style, said, “He is the bionic man! We can rebuild him!”
Even Ade smiled a little at that one.
“See you, Ade,” said Brian. “You made some great saves today.”
“Yeah, see you, Cyborg Cat,” said Dexter.
Ade held up a hand. “See you.”
CHAPTER 9
MR TOWERS
“Tut, tut, tut.”
Mr Towers pursed lips as he scratched the bald patch neatly sandwiched between two tufts of hair on his head. To Ade, he sounded like a very old car backfiring and, even though he knew he shouldn’t laugh at the head technician at Great Ormond Street Hospital, he struggled not to giggle.
Mr Towers peered at Ade from beneath eyebrows that were extremely bushy. He was smartly dressed in a suit and bow tie, with a technician’s c
oat on top. Ade knew Mr Towers was in charge of making all the appliances used by disabled children, but somehow he looked more like Mr. Potato Head. This didn’t help him with the giggles.
Ade looked over at Mum and Dad to see if they were laughing. They were not. They looked really worried and suddenly, Ade’s giggles evaporated.
“You’ve well and truly broken it,” Mr Towers said, picking up the pieces of Ade’s caliper.
“Can you fix it, though?” Dad asked. “My son’s due to start at Credon Primary School in two weeks’ time. Without his caliper that’s not going to happen.”
Mr Towers rubbed his chin. “I’m afraid it’s not straightforward.”
Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and Mum bit her lip. Ade knew they’d spent a long time trying to convince the local school to take him on as a pupil. Apparently, all the schools in East London were worried that Ade wouldn’t be able to cope with the stairs. Ade couldn’t really understand why. Playing football with the Parsons Road Gang had made him super fit, but if the school were worried it made Ade feel worried.
Mr Towers held the broken caliper above his head, looking it up and down carefully. “Thing is, this screw is easily replaced,” he said. “But this part here has completely snapped.” Mr Towers pointed to the L-shaped part of the caliper that slotted into Ade’s boots.
Ade’s mum and dad looked at each other. That really didn’t sound like good news.
“But, erm, can you fix it Mr Towers?” Mum repeated the question. They were desperate to know the answer.
“Oh, yes, of course it can be fixed,” replied Mr Towers. “Everything can be fixed.”
Ade felt a flash of excitement. Then disappointment. He wanted his caliper back, he’d really missed playing football these last few days with his mates, but he didn’t really want to start school. Sure, my friends will be there, but what will everyone else be like?
Ade’s parents were looking much happier. Ade could almost see the worry leaving their bodies, like air from a balloon.