

James Fisher and the Bird Witch

By Simon Corn

Copyright 2017 Simon Corn

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and occurrences are fictitious and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or locations is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or means, electronic or mechanical, without permission from the copyright holder.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all of those who choose to teach in all its guises, be it sports coaches, church ministers, developmental practitioners or a hundred other professionals that devote their lives to help people learn. But most of all, this book is dedicated to one teacher in particular, most people know her as Mrs Uys, I'm just lucky to be able to call her Mum.

Forward

As a writer I find it useful to continuously ask myself _what ifs_. Whenever I'm stuck for an idea, which isn't very often, a _what if_ normally gets me back on track. This particular what if story came from a single name that floated out of the heavens and landed in my imagination, Missus Maize, and I knew I had to write her story.

Some of what I speak about in the book actually happened and some of it didn't. It's written from the perspective of a young man trying to find his way in life as he cautiously approaches puberty and falls in love, but it most certainly isn't a love story, or is it? I can't quite make my mind up. So maybe you the reader can help me out with a definition.

This particular _what if_ is about a family that, if circumstances were different, could have moved into our family home in Portsmouth, England, instead of us, during the hottest summer England had seen in years. 1976.
Prologue

If the rains ever let up the grasslands surrounding the old sports college would be decorated with a glistening frost that flashes like tiny diamonds under the winter's cold sun. Icy footprints would wind frozen pathways to the gates leading to the locks. Today the tracks are rivers of dead grass and mud, and a gaping hole marks the spot where the gates were torn from their hinges during storms that blew themselves out many years ago.

In a month from now the cream of England's future educators will start to gather, their hopes and dreams wrapped naively in invisible knapsacks carelessly thrown across the shoulder of each first-year student. The winter mornings will test them and the summers will be too short to brag about when they return home at the end of the year to ponder whether it was all worth the effort.

Many of the hopefuls won't return for the following term, choosing to stay in the comfort of mum and dad's house, or in the bosom of some new lover.

Most visitors can't stand the harshness of the locks, they come to the pub and stare out of the window and shake their heads as they order whisky and warm themselves by the fire. They visit the place I love more than any other just to moan about how bad it is. Some of the comments are true; she's not pretty and doesn't wear the spring make-up of some of the local parks or the perfume of the apple orchards that pepper the land at the back of Portsdown Hill. She has a naturally harsh beauty and the heart of a wild stallion. She'll pick you up and love you on a warm summer's day and then discard you like an old rag the very moment autumn peeks out from underneath the covers. She's fickle and defiant, proud and beautiful, much like the women that have blown across the sky of my life, often too quickly, often more violently than the storm whipping the waves into a frenzy at the bottom of the slipway today. How many times had I wished that I walked away from some of those storms before the ferociousness blew out and blue skies left me feeling empty and alone? Countless times...I guess.

At least the locks offer somewhere to sit and think a while, she's considerate like that. Most storms never let you sit, most certainly never let you think, not until it's too late.

The familiar wooden slats of the bench felt comfortable and warm, a reminder of better times when the sun shone high in the sky and the plights of the world were just troubles other people had to worry about. I haven't been back to my old family home in years. It holds too many memories, some of which still play out in my mind during those long hours of a sleepless night.

The driving rain slapped my face, waking me from my daydreaming. I tried to wipe the salty water out of my eyes, the same way I've wiped away a thousand tears and I turned sideways in a pathetic effort to hide my shame.

You never forget your first storm. She was like no other and my burgeoning smile fought against the wind. I caught a glimpse of her perfect face reflected in the window of the local boat club, and then she's gone.

"Get a grip old man...it's just your imagination."

It's funny how memories play out like movies deep down in your subconscious. The plot lines are all the same but I'm sure the monologue changes with my moods. Many memories are only shadows of what really happened, but some stick with you all your life. And if you're like me, they find a home in that ball of knotted muscles between your shoulder blades. The ones that the masseuse's nimble fingers fruitlessly prod and poke at, but I suppose some things are just meant to stay part of you. As a reminder of something? I'm not sure.

People often told me I spent way too much time in my own head, but how else is a writer supposed to come up with the words to a story? I'm not like those that can bounce ideas off other people. I like my solitude and I'm comfortable with who I am, but I wasn't always that way.

Thunder rolled across the sky. It's the kind of noise a dog makes when it has you cornered, a low growl, a warning that if you run there will be teeth and claws involved. I cringed at the thought and stared across the bay. Boats that normally bobbed sedately on the small waves crashed violently into each other as they clung desperately to their moorings. They reminded me of some of the people I've watched from behind the safety of my coffee cup in the countless airports I've been imprisoned in across the world. I found myself judging them without getting to know a single one, and I have to remind myself that I'm just like them, trying to find my way in a world that never made any sense to me. Does it make any sense to them? Who knows.

One of the smaller boats finally let go and smashed into its neighbour before the outgoing tide dragged it away. Where could the brave captain be, and why he wouldn't he take better care of such a small and fragile thing? I know it's just wood and paint but it's more than that, isn't it? It has a history of its own, and a story that may never be told. How many people are like that boat? Do they scream that they have a story to tell as they let go of life and get washed away? Or do they just go with the flow, break into pieces and become forgotten? Doesn't everyone want to tell their tale?

The owners of the boats do. I know some of them. Captains they call themselves. Owning a small fishing boat with two oars and a bench does not a captain make. If anything, skipper, at best. I'd grown up around most of them, and if truth be told they're not bad people, they're just people. The same as you and me. They've got life sussed out though, if the weather's bad you'll find them in the pubs telling stories of being stranded on the mud flats with only a flask of tea and a broken oar for company, or of times when the fishing was good and the weather was even better. They've lived another sort of life to me and when I get the chance I sit and laugh at their stories and buy them a beer for their troubles and lose myself in their bullshit.

So many memories, but all of them pale in comparison to the first storm. The storm with the blonde ponytail and a tongue sharper than any razorblade. My stomach knotted as my anxiety built; she always made me feel this way.

The sound of the small boat crashing into yet another one of its compatriots tore my mind back to the present. Sometimes I find it hard to stay in the now. Well, why would I want to when the past was where Daisy held my hand and kissed my lips?

Waves washed onto the slipway, and churned up shale and dead crab shells that bobbed around pretending to still be alive. Deep down inside I'm the same as those crabs, only I'm alive and she's gone.

I breathed in deeply as a salty tear fought for space in the corner of my eye. A flash of lightning arced across the locks and warned me that I should take cover, but I looked up and challenged the heavens to do their worst. Iron-grey clouds charged across the sky as if they had somewhere more important to be. "Anywhere rather than here, eh?" I shouted into the wind and I wondered where it would take the words and if anyone would ever hear them. "You're such a fucking romantic James Fisher," I muttered and kicked a stone down the ramp to join the rest of the flotsam. "Give it up old man, she's never coming back."

I stood to leave but a vision of her smiling that special smile calmed my nerves, and I sat back down while a seagull struggled to hover overhead, looking for a free handout. A quick rummage through my pockets revealed no food. "Sorry dude," I called up to the bird, but my apology didn't seem to satisfy its curiosity and the gull slowly descended and perched next to me on the end of the bench. My new friend flapped its wings before settling down and looked me over with a beady eye. I reached out to see how tame the gull was, but it shuffled further away and my hand came to rest on a familiar carving. My fingers traced a line around the heart with the letters JF + DM pierced by an arrow. "What a cliché!" I'd carved it without her ever knowing, if she'd found it she would have given me that stare and told me not to be such a sissy. "I still love you Daisy." I closed my eyes but a vision of her played tricks with my mind and the anxiety, that's kept me in poor company all my life, made my stomach churn and my chest tighten.

I shook my head in an effort to rid myself of the vision, but who am I trying to kid? She was always with me. The gull edged closer, _keowed_ and bobbed its head up and down.

"I've got nothing for you."

Keow!

I've never been great with birds. I leave them to the Bird Witches. I love Bird Witches. Some of my best friends are Bird Witches.

Keow!

"Want to hear a story?"

Keow!

I laughed, "Well you asked for it. It was the summer of 1976 and just for once the whole of England was bathed in beautiful sunshine..."

One

"Hey wake up! You might be on holiday but that doesn't mean you can lie in bed the whole day!" Mum shouted up the stairs of our three-bedroom townhouse that was sandwiched between two identical-looking buildings. From a distance all three look like one house with a trio of matching front doors. Council estates were all about making things look the same, but Dad didn't care much for the idea. He and mom were always planning something new for the house. The latest idea was to rip out the front window and have a bay window installed, but the tenants committee had one of their meetings and blocked our application. Dad had sworn a lot that day and threatened to do it anyway, but Mum had done what Mum does best and talked him back down.

"Then what's a holiday for?" I kicked the red blanket onto the floor and pulled the sheet over my head.

Mum charged up the stairs and stormed into my room. She jumped onto my bed and threw the curtains open. "Get up now lazy bones; it's time to get out the house and into the sunshine."

" _Urgh_ ...okay, just give me a minute to wake up."

"I know your minutes young man! Now move your butt!"

She tugged the sheet off my head and pinched my nose tightly. I tried unsuccessfully to hide my eyes from the sunlight that flooded into my room. I blew my nose hoping the threat of being snotted on would loosen her grip, but she was a pro at getting one up on me and pinched even tighter. I pretended to choke and started coughing, but she didn't buy it and pulled me up towards her. I grabbed onto her hands for all I was worth as she yanked me into the air. Mum wasn't particularly strong, but I was all skin and bone from the years of track running. "Okay I'm up," I said as the tears started to roll down my face.

"Good, now shower and dress, I want you out of the house in fifteen minutes and I don't want to see you back here until lunchtime. Your brother's already gone to the dump to dig up bottles with his friends. Go play with them but be careful."

I cringed at the thought of hanging around him and his dumb gang; me and Sean had never been close. He had his friends, who were all older than me, and me, well I had no friends. Well not around the crescent anyway. All my friends trained with me across the other side of the city at Alexandra Park stadium, close to where they lived. No matter how much I moaned to Mum and Dad they wouldn't let me go and see them unless one of them took me and picked me up. I was twelve damn it! I could look after myself. "If you give me bus fare I could go and see my own friends and you won't see me till tomorrow dinnertime."

"Nice try James, you know the rules and your dad won't be home until late tonight." Mum could drive but she didn't get much time behind the wheel. We only had one car and Dad was king of that castle. Mum never really needed the car, she was super fit from riding a bike to work and back her entire life, and even though I was a champion runner she could still catch me over short distances. "There's oats on the stove and milk in the fridge, I have to go or I'm going to be late. When you go out lock the door _and put the key in the place_." She whispered the last part of the sentence as if anyone spying on us could hear her.

"Sure, I'll put it under the mat where no one will ever guess to look!" I shouted, much to her annoyance, but as I burst out laughing she smiled and tickled my ribs as I dropped back onto the bed.

"Love you James." She kissed me on the forehead and went back downstairs.

"Love you Mum," I called as the sound of her footsteps on the creaky old staircase echoed around the empty house. The dreaded stairs had thirteen steps, and I knew each one's specific sounds. Dad held down three jobs and he grabbed sleep wherever he could get it. You learned quickly in our house not to wake him unless you wanted to be grounded.

We all knew the routine, tread lightly on the first step, skip the second and only use the right side of the next six, skip the ninth and land right in the middle of the tenth, an inch either side and the loudest groan would echo and you would be dead meat. The last three were good but another trap lay on the landing just outside of my door. On occasions, when my mind was elsewhere, that creak had been my downfall and the noise woke the old man and my ass was grass, as he was prone to saying.

I jumped out of bed determined to make the best of the day and looked out the window hoping the weather could've changed for the worse, as it tended to do on the first day of the school break, but as fate would have it the sun shone high in the sky and there wasn't a single cloud for it to hide behind. Maybe this holiday wasn't going to suck so badly after all. I grabbed a towel out of the airing cupboard and buried my face in the warm cloth. I loved the smell of freshly washed linen. It didn't matter what material it was, anything would do, it was the freshness that counted. In fact I loved the smell of anything clean and it didn't matter what time of year it was, the windows in my room were always open.

There were five rooms upstairs; Mum and Dad's was next to mine and faced the front of the house while the others looked onto the backyard. I leant on my doorframe and pondered which of the three doors opposite mine I should investigate. "Bathroom, loo or Sean's room?" I was always intrigued at what he did in there but we had a rule about invading each other's spaces. As usual the temptation to take a peek was stronger than my willpower. I slowly walked over as if I were a spy in a movie and sniffed at his door. "Wow, that stinks!" It smelt of sweat, cheap deodorant and cheesy socks. I shoved my face back in the towel, rolled around on the floor and pretended to be poisoned by the stench. No ways was I going in, there could be anything hiding in the dark and dingy recesses of _the pit of hell_ ; that's what I called the pigsty that was Sean's den. Now the only decision left was to use the loo or pee in the shower? "Let's save on water."

The shower took ages to get warm and by the time it was hot I was already clean and about to jump out. On any normal day I would have waited for the hot water to kick in but the house was nice and toasty warm. That was one of the best things about living in the middle house, free insulation from the cold. I wrapped the towel around my head to make a hat and rubbed my sun-bleached. I never liked having too much hair, it tended to flap in my eyes when I ran, but Mum liked it, and she paid for the visits to the barbers. I wanted to have a skinhead haircut but Mum said that I'd look stupid. I rubbed at the steamed-up mirror, dropped my towel, and held my hair back to see what I'd look like bald. I laughed; she was dead right, I looked like an anaemic light bulb.

"Two blue eyes, check. One nose, several freckles, check. Smiley face, check. Zero zits, check!" Some of the kids in my old school teased me about still having some of my baby teeth but it never bothered me. I was lucky, Sean wasn't. He had greasy skin and hair and he constantly bemoaned that I was the lucky git that got all the good genes. Personally I think it was the hours and hours of sweating from training kept me blemish free, but I really didn't care. If Sean was jealous of me all the better, being brothers was all about who was the best and I didn't win many of those battles.

Money was hard to come by in our house, but Mum wouldn't skimp on the best things in life like soap and toothpaste, and the minty freshness washed over my teeth as I scrubbed my gums until they nearly bled. I looked at my brother's toothbrush and a few evil thoughts crossed my mind. "Maybe another day bro," I said, gargling with a mouthful of water. I picked the towel up again, wrapped it twice around my skinny waist and went back to my room to search for the elusive matching pair of socks that hid somewhere in my cupboard. After sifting through seventeen odd ones I gave up on finding a pair and grabbed my cutoff jeans and my blue and grey swimming shorts that lived way back in the darkness of my underwear drawer. I'd had them since I was ten and they still fitted me well enough.

We were lucky to live this close to the sea. Mum and Dad had fought tooth and nail for us to move from where we were born and thank God they did! I couldn't imagine waking up without the smell of the mud and seaweed every morning. It was one of the constants in my life that made everything bearable, unlike school. But I wouldn't have to go to the new one for another six weeks. The thought of not having to sit in class without a clue as to what those grownups were saying made me laugh aloud as I lay on the floor trying to get my jeans up and over my bathers. It was a struggle and I nearly did myself a mischief before the job was done. I jumped up and looked at the posters pasted at various angles around my walls. Pride of place in the middle was the Canadian flag; it was an Olympic year and all my heroes were heading to the Americas. I dreamed every night of standing on the start line of the fifteen hundred metres with Frank Clement on one side of me and David Moorcroft on the other. "Next time boys!" I promised myself.

My spongy old pair of flip flops only just fitted me but I shoved them onto my feet. I charged down the stairs and skipped the groans and creaks, just for the practise.

The spoon Mum had left in the porridge stood proudly upright, like a mast in the middle of the pot. I grabbed it hoping that she had finally got the mixture right, but the whole thing lifted off the stove. Even after a good shake the spoon stuck in there like a gatepost. No ways was I going to eat something that could, on another day, make a good weapon to kill someone. I took the whole thing to the sink and filled the rest of the pan with water in the hope that it would free the spoon from its prison, but no luck. I gave it a quick salute and decided to stop trying to save it from its concrete death, "Another good man lost to Mum's cooking."

I grabbed the milk from the fridge and was about to take a swig when something told me to stop and take a whiff of the contents and boy was I glad I did. It was rank, and as I shook it I could hear the lumps mix in with what was left of the milk. "Disgusting!"

I tossed the carton into the bin and ran to the front door hoping the milkman had delivered some cold refreshing cow juice but no luck. "Damn it! How's a boy supposed to face the day with no brekkie?" I generally talked to myself when no one else was around, at least no one could answer back or argue the point. Sean was forever arguing with everyone in the house, Mum said it was because of his age and something to do with his hormones kicking in, whatever they are. She said I would have hormones too one day and not to judge him when I moaned to her about Sean thumping me for no reason. "No hormones today, ha!"

I grabbed a bruised apple from the bowl on the breakfast room table, wandered into the purple-painted lounge and switched on the black and white TV before throwing one of my flip flops at the Betamax VCR that squatted under the telly. Dad said that we couldn't afford a colour telly and a VCR, and the family voted for the black and white. I'd voted the other way but everyone else wanted to be the first family in the crescent to have a VCR. I'd watched out of my bedroom window as Dad proudly parked the car out the front and carried the box slowly into the house, giving anyone that might be spying a chance to see what we had and what they didn't. The fuzzy picture on the telly was hopeless and I flicked it off in disgust.

Back in the breakfast room I switched on the spaceman helmet radio and eight-track player to Radio One and found an old copy of 2000AD that was stuck in amongst Mum's knitting patterns. She kept them in a box that took up way too much space on the wall unit that was Dad's pride and joy, the culmination of his DIY project for the year. I must admit it was a beautifully crafted set of white chipboard cupboards and shelves. Mum polished it twice a day and I breathed in the smell of Mr Min and smiled.

I'd read the comic book a dozen times before and my mind drifted off as I stared at the pages. A car horn brought me back to my senses and I checked out of the window hoping for rain, but no joy. The sun was still beating down and the sound of kids playing football out the back made me feel nervous. I'd put the inevitable off for too long and Mum would know if I'd been skulking around the house the whole day. I had no idea how she always knew if I had done what she asked, but somehow she knew, and it never ended well for me. I raced upstairs and put my football shirt with the red and blue stripes on, rolled the towel into a tube and slung it around my neck. "Okay world, here I come, ready or not."

I cringed as the lock on the backdoor clicked into place and silently cursed my bad luck. The last thing I needed was trouble on my first day off. I slipped the key under the mat and manned up. The football match was in full swing as I walked up the garden path trying to look like nothing bothered me. I made it to the gate without drawing their attention. If my luck held out I'd be gone before they even realised I was around. No such luck.

As the gate locked behind me I heard a cry of, "Watch out!" I turned to look at who had shouted and the ball hit me full in the face. It's hard to explain a pain like that, my nose and lips felt numb and my eyes were watering. I started to swear at whoever kicked the ball but words failed me as through the tears I came face to face with Steve Furmidge, the self-professed hard man of the crescent; I was in trouble.

"Something to say dickhead?" He stood a foot taller than me and was nearly sixteen years old. He ran his fingers through his greasy ginger hair and glared at me, waiting for an answer. I remembered Sean telling Mom that Furmidge was a rocker and that he had a flick-knife.

He was close enough for me to be able to smell the cigarette he smoked before the game and I gagged. "No."

"Good and if your thick head did any damage to my ball I'll be looking for you." The bully turned away and laughed at his friends who dutifully laughed back.

I couldn't help myself saying, "Good job it didn't hit you then."

Two girls were lounging against the wall, staring at me. The smaller one wore a denim cap with a matching jean jacket and trousers. The other was a monstrous hulking girl with black curly hair and a green jersey that looked out of place on a hot sunny morning. The skinny one spat on the floor, sniffed at me and laughed. "You're an idiot Fisher."

"Screw you."

Furmidge swivelled on his black plastic platform shoes and stared back at me, "What was that?"

"I said that I'm sorry if it did," I lied.

He took a step toward me, "Maybe I should just kick your ass now and get it over and done with? Maybe I'll make it my mission in life to kick your ass every day of this holiday. What you got to say about that Fisher?"

"Nothing."

"That's right, nothing. That's what you are around here and don't you go forgetting it, wimp." He poked me in the shoulder and slapped me on the side of the head.

"Hey c'mon Steve there's a game on here," one of his buddies called out.

"Fucking wimp," Furmidge went back to his game and left me facing _tweedle dumb_ and _tweedle dumber_.

"Better a wimp than a dickwad." I had no idea what a dickwad was, but I'd heard other kids using it so I guessed that it was a reasonable response. _Tweedle dumb_ , the spit girl, heard me and stepped toward me, but enough was enough and I had to get away from the gang before my big mouth landed me in even more trouble. The only way out was through the hole in the wall and that meant making a run for it when the ball was at the other end of the pitch. With one eye on spit girl and the other on the ball I waited for my chance and ran like hell.

"That's it dickhead, run away," spit girl said and tried to stand in my way.

"What you going to do about it bitch?" I said without thinking and dodged around her. Even in my flip flops I was faster than her, but as I got within a foot of the safety of the brick tunnel that led from the car park to the relative safety of Locksway Road, I felt a tug on my shirt and a slap to my head and I spun around. The goalkeeper from Furmidge's side had snagged me. "You want this piece of crap Meesh?" he asked the spit girl.

"Yeah, hold that little dickhead there."

The game had come to a standstill again and Furmidge walked towards me, rubbed his hands together and laughed. "You're mine Fisher."

My eyes met spit girl's; her smile reminded me of a snake I'd seen at the summer show on Southsea Common last year. I had one choice. "Sorry," I said to the goalkeeper.

"Sorry for what wimp?" he asked a split second before I kicked him in the nuts. He let go of me and dropped to the floor, groaning in agony.

Furmidge shouted, "Grab that little twat!" Spit girl pushed her monster towards me and I ran like hell for the locks. Last year when it rained some bright spark got the idea to lay a metal sheet under the hole in the wall and as I bounded through the tunnel, clanging echoed all around me.

I got no more than ten paces away before I heard the first set of feet clatter against the steel, then the next and the next. I pushed on hard, even in my flip flops I was still faster than the gang of bullies. By the time I reached the pathway to the locks I had a good lead on them but I could still hear voices shouting in the distance. I just needed to find a spot and hide out until Mum got home at lunchtime, then I'd be safe. No one messed around with my mum; they're all shit scared of her. She's a tough nut but that's not why they're scared, the reason is simple: she's married to my dad and my dad kicks ass! Mum's the only one that can talk him down, especially when he's got his beer on.

A small crab-apple crunched under my foot and I contemplated hiding up the tree that marked the start of the pathway, but if they found me up there I was history. I ran on down the alley leading to the locks searching desperately for a place to lay low. My shirt caught on a rogue blackberry bush, I pulled away hard and tore a hole in the sleeve, "Damn it!" The thought of diving into the bush crossed my mind but blood stained the rip in my shirt and I felt sick. "C'mon James move it!" I reached the yacht club where all the toffs hung out to drink wine every Sunday afternoon. Why they called it a yacht club was beyond me. There hadn't been a yacht at the docks since we'd moved there. Right now it was empty and there were plenty of places to hide, but if I was caught I would be in trouble with the law and with Mum and Dad.

I pushed on past one of the massive houses that skirted the canal. The gardens were bigger than our three houses put together. No chance of hiding in there, the kids in the crescent said the old man who lived there was a gangster and had a shotgun, and that scared the crap out of me.

I ran on and came to where the path split in two. One led to the main slipway where the fishing boats were docked and the other led to the bridge that crossed the canal. I could hear waves lapping the shoreline and cursed my luck, the tide was in and the boats were out of bounds. Only one place left to go to, the boat workers sheds! I stopped for a moment to catch my breath.

The bridge looked like a giant iron speed bump and as I crept onto the wooden slats the whole thing creaked under my weight. I froze on the spot as someone screamed, "Find that little twat!" I ducked down and peeked over the guardrail. Three of the boys were walking down the alley checking in the bushes, one climbed into the yacht club and banged on the hulls of upturned skiffs.

"He won't be in there! He's a chicken shit," Furmidge shouted from the other side of the canal.

My eyes darted toward the rest of the gang as they fanned out looking for me in the trees and bushes that lined the car park of the Thatched House pub. They had me trapped! "Get a grip James Fisher, this ain't over yet." I dropped onto my belly and crawled off the bridge and into the long grass. There were two ways to get to the sheds, head down the old slipway and take my chances in the water or over the wall and onto the rooves. I'm not scared of the sea and I'm betting the gang doesn't fancy swimming after me but I'd have to be mad to take that chance. I crept toward the sheds as the gang closed in on me.

They'd reached the bridge and Furmidge was barking out orders. He sent spit girl to check on the old slipway. She'd argued and stormed across the grass, missing me by a couple of feet. "I told you he wouldn't swim for it!" she shouted at Furmidge.

"Get your ass back here. The rest of you split up and find that little shit."

I tucked my head down and stayed as quiet as possible as boys and girls ran around checking in bushes and behind the old sheds. "He ain't around here Steve," the goalkeeper said, as the gang reformed on the bridge, "he's headed to Mooringsway."

"Then get moving!"

I heard the goalkeeper groan and imagined Furmidge punching him in the arm.

I gave it a couple of minutes before I moved just in case they had left a lookout but when I popped my head up I was alone and a wave of relief washed over me. It would be so easy for me to slip back down the alleyway and head for home. The sound of a stone splashing into the canal brought me back to my senses; he _had_ left lookouts, one on each side of the canal. I was still trapped.

I crept slowly toward the wall. It wasn't high on my side, but the drop off the other side could do me some serious damage. I climbed on top of the wall and made the leap of faith onto the rounded corrugated iron roof of the shed. The two lookouts were busy throwing stones across the canal at each other and hadn't seen me.

If I could reach the top I could make it down the other side and I'd be safe! There were a ton of places to hide and I knew every single one of them. The sun baked the roof and my hands were sticky and coated in black goo and red paint. I tried to shake it off but I was off balance and clattered down onto the roof. The boys stopped throwing stones and I heard them shout out to the rest of the gang.

"Shit, shit...shit!" I tried to stand but I slipped on the black ooze and I face-planted onto the roof. I made it to my knees but I had paint in my eyes, in my mouth and up my nose and the more I tried to wipe it away, the worse it got. I started to crawl to where I thought the top of the roof was but as my hand came down it met empty air, there was a loud crack and everything went dark.

***

I woke up with a thumping pain in my head and angry voices arguing all around me, I tried to sit up but I felt a weight on my chest. "Mum?"

"Little Jimmy's calling for his mummy," spit girl said, poking me with her foot.

I groaned as the pain mushroomed all over my body, "Leave me alone..."

"No such luck Jimmy boy," Furmidge said, pushing me back as I attempted to sit up.

My vision was blurry from the paint but I could make out the hole in the roof where the sunlight filtered through. Furmidge's foot was on my chest holding me down. "Get off me," I cried out and started coughing, the pain in my back and chest was excruciating and I could taste blood in my mouth.

"Sorry Jimmy," I heard a voice say in a sarcastic tone but as I opened my mouth to ask why, the goalkeeper took his revenge and kicked me in the balls. I screamed in pain and saw stars as I floated in and out of consciousness.

"He's had enough Steve, let's get out of here before someone calls the cops."

"No one even knows he's here," spit girl said. "His Mum and Dad are at work, my folks say they're never home and it's a disgrace that they leave this one and his sappy brother home alone."

"You feeling sorry for him Meesh?"

"Nah, he's a spaz with a big mouth, but the cops have been round our house once this week already about our Darren and I don't need them to come calling about me as well."

"Seems like it's your unlucky day Jimmy, we'll just have to finish you here and now. Ready to meet your maker?"

"Screw you Furmidge," I said, without thinking of the inevitable consequences.

"Maybe Meesh will but not you Jimmy, you're shit out of luck."

"Fuck you Steve," spit girl shouted, which brought a smile to my face even though my body was racked with pain.

"Funny is it Jimmy? Find that funny, do you? We'll see if it's fucking funny when you're dead!"

I heard a loud crack and a voice shouting and then my mind and body gave up and I blacked out.

***

"Wake up boy!" a voice shouted. I felt cold water splash in my face. "You need to move quickly before those bullies come back."

I tried to get up but my head spun as a fresh bout of pain erupted in my back and chest. "Get my mum," was all I could muster.

"Your mother's no use to you here Son, take my arm and try to stand. Quickly now, come on." The voice was female and sounded older than my mum's, it had a twang like I'd heard on the telly. I reached up and felt a bony hand clench mine in a vice-like grip. Whoever the lady was helped me to stand up but my legs buckled underneath me. "Put your arm round my shoulder boy; let's get the hell out of this death trap."

"Who are you?" I groaned.

"I'm the one that's saving your ass today, now move."

"Yes ma'am," I half-walked, half-dragged myself out of the shed and into the sunlight. "What time is it?"

"Time to get the hell out of here. Come on, I live over there."

I looked up and through my hazy vision I saw the old pale blue cottage with its broken gate and uncut grass. It was the only house in the area, and all the local boys said that a witch lived there who turned into a massive blackbird when she needed to eat, and that her favourite meal was ten-year-old boys. "I'm twelve, I promise you I'm twelve," I mumbled.

"What?"

"I'm twelve, please don't eat me!" I was in so much pain now that I had no idea how I was still moving.

"Eat you, why would I want to eat you? You're all skin and bone and I like my meat with plenty of fat on."

I heard her cackle as the rusty hinge on her broken gate screeched in submission. She dragged me to the door and leant me up against the frame. I heard the rattle of keys and then felt her take my weight and I stepped into the house. It was dark and the pain in my head lessened from excruciating agony to just normal agony, "Thanks."

"You're not out of this yet boy. I'm just an old woman and I reckon those ruffians will be back once they realise it was me that scared them off."

She dropped me onto a chair and I closed my eyes as the pain worsened, "They won't come back."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"Because you're the Bird Witch." The pain was becoming too much again and I could feel the blackness trying to close my eyes.

"Oh, I'm a witch am I? You kids really are a bunch of..."

Everything went black and I never heard what we all were a bunch of.

Two

I woke up and looked straight into the sterile blue-white light above my bed and immediately knew I was in hospital. I'd spent my share of time in hospitals what with track injuries and my cousin Stuart's chronic eczema condition. He'd had a really bad reaction last year. He nearly lost the top layer of his skin, it was disgusting. I visited him every day, but it was one of the grossest things I've ever seen and the smell was awful. Thing is he's family and in my book, family comes first.

I breathed in the stench of the hospital room and felt sick. The smell of freshness was one thing, but the reek of hospital cleaner was something else and I had to fight off the feeling that I wanted to throw up.

I tried to sit up, but my arm was in some sort of sling held in place by a metal support where a drip normally hung from. I tried to turn over to see what was going on but the pain in my side warned me not to even bother trying. I looked to my left and saw a glass of water sitting on the shiny silver bedside cabinet, but there was no way I could get my arm out of the sling to get to it or roll over to use my other hand, and the more I couldn't reach it, the drier my mouth got. I groaned at this new type of hell. _So this is what being lost in a desert felt like!_

Then something even worse happened. My bodily functions kicked into gear and I could feel my bladder was filled to bursting point. I started to panic, there was no way I was going to pee in my bed and I frantically looked to my right but there was nothing there to help. I arched my back; above my head was a button to call the nurse and with it lay my salvation. I tried to move my left arm, but it was heavily bandaged and pain shot through my bicep as I attempted to lift it. Relief was in sight but not within reach and I was in trouble.

"Good morning James, how are you feeling?" a friendly female voice said from the bottom of my bed. In my frantic attempt to get some attention I missed the sounds of the nurse entering the room.

"I think I'm going to burst Miss."

"Oh, hang on I'll be right back."

"Just help me up and I'll..." but it was too late, she had already gone and I squeezed with all my might. It seemed like hours before she came back and unceremoniously stripped the sheet away, pulled my gown up and placed my penis gently into the pee bottle. I looked up but she'd turned away and I relaxed, but no joy. Why was this happening? All I wanted to do was pee and nothing would come out. I let out a small cry and the nurse looked back at me, "Having trouble James?"

"I can't go."

"It's the anaesthetic, it happens all the time. Hold on a moment." She crossed to the sink and turned the tap on before putting my manhood back into the bottle. The relief was instantaneous as my bladder gave up its contents. When it was all over the nurse covered me back up. She must have noticed my embarrassment and smiled, "I do this every day James, don't worry about it okay." She had a melodic voice that was kind and gentle but I knew that this was a person you didn't mess around with. Maybe it was the fact that she had free access to my nether regions or perhaps it was just her steely blue eyes. Well, it made no difference. She'd handled something that only my mother and I had and, in my book, that formed a bond. "I'm Nurse Cathcart but my friends call me Sayde."

"We're friends?"

"I hope so James. Now I want you to listen carefully to me, you had a nasty fall and you need to rest up. The doctor will be along shortly to answer any questions you may have and your mum and dad will be here at visiting time tonight."

I looked at the clock on the wall opposite my bed, it was nearly midday. "My mum's going to kill me. I'm supposed to be home for lunch in an hour."

Sayde laughed, "Your mum and dad were here last night and trust me they're okay, and they know you're safe."

"How long have I been here?"

"The ambulance dropped you off yesterday morning just before lunchtime. You were in and out of consciousness and mumbling on about a Bird Witch saving you from some gang."

"Furmidge!" I said trying to sit up, but the name stuck on my dry lips.

Sayde stood by my bedside and helped me drink from the glass. The water tasted fantastic, but in my eagerness I started to choke.

"Slow down James, we have plenty of water."

She wiped my mouth and I tried to relax back onto the pillow, "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing a good rest won't take care of."

I looked into those blue eyes and saw pity, "Give it to me Sayde, if you're a friend you'll tell me."

"Fair enough James. The fall was a bad one; you banged your head pretty hard, broke your right arm in three places, sprained your left and fractured three of your ribs."

I felt sick on the inside, "How long?"

"Will it take to heal properly? A little over six weeks, sorry James but your holiday's over I'm afraid."

That was the best piece of news I'd had in weeks and I smiled, "Thanks Sayde."

"You're welcome James, now I want you to get some sleep until they bring lunch and then I'll come back and help you okay?"

"Okay."

I closed my eyes but sleep never came and all too soon the lunch lady brought her trolley noisily into my room. "Hello love."

"Hi," I never looked up to see what she looked like as the pong of boiled cabbage and Brussels sprouts invaded the room and laid siege to my sense of smell. I shivered at the thought of eating and waited silently until the lunch lady went on delivering her plates of doom to the rest of the poor kids held prisoner in their beds.

Sayde came back in and I could see the look of disgust on her face. "Do I have to eat that?" I asked.

"It does smell bad doesn't it? Let's take a look, there may be something lurking under this cloche that could be edible. It's Tuesday, so it's supposed to be pork chops." I watched as she lifted the lid and peered underneath, "Well I was right, do you want to try the meat?" I shook my head, "Potato? Well I think it's a potato." I shook my head again, "I don't blame you James. There's jelly and custard, how about trying that?" My mind and sense of smell said no but my stomach overruled both and, with Sayde's help, I ate the dessert.

"Thanks Sayde."

"Try to sleep James, I know you're uncomfortable but try."

She left me alone in the room and I stared up at the ceiling and was surprised to see cobwebs in the corners of the room, "So much for sterile."

It was another three hours of staring at the white clock face with its black hands slowly turning before the doctor and his entourage of students came to visit, and it was all I had imagined it to be. He treated me like a kid, and when he explained what happened during the procedure to fix my arm I didn't understand a word and just nodded enthusiastically in the hope that he would leave quickly.

"On a scale of one to ten how's the pain?"

"I'm sorry?" The man was in his late thirties and spoke in words and phrases only an adult could understand, if he had kids he I bet he never spoke to them on their level. My nodding was clearly not enough to make him leave.

"The pain, on a scale of one being a tooth-ache, to ten, my head's exploding."

"I've had some pretty bad toothaches." I looked in his eyes but his only reaction was to shake his head. "Sorry Doc, both my arms ache pretty badly but my stomach is the worst."

"Okay Nurse..."

"Cathcart," Sayde said sounding annoyed.

"Yes, Nurse Cathcart will bring you something for the pain but the best remedy is rest young man. No more climbing trees for you, okay?"

"Trees?" I asked, but the man was already speaking in his doctor's language to three younger doctors who were hanging on to his every word as they all hustled out of the room.

After twenty or so minutes Sayde came back in with a small bowl with two pills, "These will probably make you sleepy James."

"I hope so, this place is so boring."

"I'll see what I can do about that, now rest."

I looked up at the clock as the nurse left my room and started to count the seconds, waiting for the drugs to kick in.

***

I felt a cold hand on my forehead and tried to flush the cobwebs from my mind before I opened my eyes. I knew the hand that brushed back my hair, I'd known it all my life and I knew I was safe, "Mum."

"James." I felt her kiss my head and the world felt right for the first time since she'd left for work the previous day. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." I opened my eyes and smiled at my mum who sat back, and as she did my dad honed into view above my bed.

"Who was it Son? Was it that Minge boy and his gang of deadbeats? If it was I'm going to kick all their asses and then I'm going to find their fathers and kick their asses as well!"

I could see my dad was livid and for some reason he didn't blame me! I was dead sure that there would be hell to pay but I was over the moon that it wasn't me who was going to be settling that bill. He hated the Furmidge family and always called them _The Minges_. "It doesn't matter Dad, I'm all good, just get me outta here and home."

"You're going nowhere until the doctor says you can James!"

"But Mum, I can't stay here!"

"James. You'll do what your mum and the doctors say and that's the end of it."

Those words made me feel better, Dad putting Mum before the doctor was a typical thing only he would do. Even if the doctor said it would be okay for me to leave the hospital it wouldn't be okay until my dad heard my mum say it was, and I loved him for it. "Okay, but you have to bring me something to eat, these people boil everything."

"I've put some stuff in the cupboard," Mum whispered.

"It's okay Mum, we've done this before, I'm allowed to have food. You don't have to whisper!"

"I know," she whispered a little bit louder.

I laughed and pain erupted in my chest, "Don't make me laugh!"

"Time to go I'm afraid," Sayde said from the doorway.

"But he's only been awake for ten minutes."

"Sorry Missus Fisher, but it's hospital rules I'm afraid."

"C'mon love, no point arguing," Dad said and kissed me for the first time in years.

"Love you James," Mum said and kissed my head.

"Love you Mum," I answered as both my parents left the ward and headed back into real life.

The hands on the clock seemed to slow down as I stared at them. I had no idea how long I would have to lie here, but however long it might actually be, it was going to seem like it was extended tenfold. I felt like crying but a noise at my door brought some much-needed relief. Sayde poked her head inside the room, "I have a surprise for you James."

"Not more sprouts and cabbage I hope?"

"Nope," she wheeled in a large metal tray fixed on long legs that straddled the end of my bed and perched on top was a telly. She plugged the cord into the end of the bed and jacked in an aerial from the wall.

"You're kidding me, my own telly?"

"Yep and it's got its own clicker and everything. All three channels and it's full colour, none of the black and white rubbish for you. But you have to promise me that it's lights out at eight and no sneaking a peek when everyone else is asleep, alright?"

"It's a deal. I'd shake your hand but, well, you know."

She laughed, placed the clicker in my left hand and turned the knob to on. The screen crackled to life and there it was, my own telly with my own clicker and I could watch whatever I wanted without having to fight Dad and Sean. I didn't even realise Sayde had left but when I looked up to ask her a question the room was empty, "Love you Sayde."

***

Three days passed and the sprain in my left arm had mended to the point where I could use it to do all the things a young man should do when no one else is around. It was just in time as well, Sayde had gone onto her days off and I was left with Nurse Manning who tried to live up to every description of what a nurse should be. Well except the part where the rules covered that the patients was an actual person. She was all about procedures and times and pills and if I was honest I didn't like her much, but she left my telly alone and that was all I needed.

Mum and Dad came to the hospital every day even though they were both working. I asked them not to but they were having none of it. I nagged the doctor day after day to let me go home but he was as stubborn as they were and I was trapped having to spend another solid week stuck in bed. As much as it sickened me to think of what this would do to Mum and Dad, I had no option but to go along with it.

It was on the morning of the fourth day that things finally got interesting. Firstly, Sayde was back with a smile and a wave and secondly someone had been moved into the room opposite mine, and from what I could make out it was a young girl who was bedridden. The pain in my chest had subsided to a constant ache and I was mobile at last. I questioned Sayde about who my neighbour was but she wouldn't give me any details other than her name was Sana and that she was a Hindi. I tried to ask what Hindi was but Sayde was called away as Sana started crying. Something inside of me cracked as I lay there listening to Sana cry and I couldn't help myself from joining in. The relief of the tears washed over me so I pulled the covers over my head and let it all out.

Mum came to visit that night and told me Dad was exhausted and had fallen asleep. She'd caught a bus to the hospital and I knew that was a mile walk and a five-mile ride just to get to me. She looked like she was on her last legs and I moved over so she could lie down next to me. I put my sprained good arm around her and she kicked off her shoes and lay beside me, "It's all right Mum just relax." It wasn't long before I felt the rhythm of her breathing slow down. It was the best visit of my entire stay at Queen Alexander Hospital, my mum was safe and resting and my dad was sleeping at home and all was right in the world once more.

***

Mum was gone when I woke up. I needed a pee badly and thought about calling Sayde but I could still hear the gentle sobbing of Sana in the room opposite mine and Sayde's kind voice trying to calm her down. I gingerly climbed out of bed and waddled down the corridor to the bleached, clean hospital toilet and relieved myself. On the way back I stood outside of Sana's room and peered into the darkness. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and Sayde whispered, "She's sleeping, come back in the morning and say hi, okay?" I nodded, not wanting to wake Sana up and walked back into my room and climbed into bed. Sayde followed me, "James?"

"Yes."

"Sana doesn't speak English so go slowly okay? Use hand signals and smile a lot. She's a long way from home and her parents will only get here on Monday."

"Okay but how am I meant to speak to her?" I asked stupidly.

Sayde smiled, "You're both in the same boat, you're a smart cookie James, you'll figure it out. Oh, and this came for you."

She handed me a card and left me alone with the telly, the clock and the beige envelope addressed to _'The boy who fell to earth'_. I ripped it open and pulled out a handmade card. On the front was a picture of a large black bird and a broomstick and on the inside was a message that read, _Get well soon, then come and visit, I've got something to show you. Best wishes, The Bird Witch_. I read the message again and shook the envelope half-expecting something to fall out but there was nothing. I held the envelope to my nose and sniffed, from what little I remembered it smelt of the old woman's house. I'd meant to ask Mum about her, but she had been so tired that I'd forgotten. I placed the card on the cupboard top next to my bowl of bruised fruit and it slipped from my mind as Sana woke up and the sobbing started again. I turned on the telly to drown out the noise but a pang of guilt made my stomach knot and I turned it off and pulled the pillow over my head and tried to sleep.

***

If I slept an hour that night it was a lot, and by the time morning finally came around and Sayde came to my room to take my temperature and check my blood pressure I was already in a bad mood and looking forward to letting Sana know all about it. The nurse was no fool and picked up on my stress levels straight away. "What's wrong James? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?"

"Sana kept me awake all night, she's driving me crazy. Do you think the doc could give me a sleeping pill or something?"

Sayde smiled that knowing smile of hers and went about her business, but before she left she said, "Sana's sleeping, why don't you wait until she wakes up and go and see her?" I nodded. "And James, be careful with her."

"Why?" I asked, perturbed.

"You'll see, just be gentle okay?"

My interest was piqued, and as I watched the clock's hands tick around, my imagination went through every possible scenario as to why I would have to be gentle with the girl that couldn't speak English and kept me awake all night long. When the tea lady came in I couldn't wait any longer. I climbed out of bed and slowly made my way to Sana's doorway and looked in. The curtains were pulled around the bed and I could hear the doctor speaking his doctor's language. I turned to leave but the curtains opened and the doctors totally ignored me as they left in single file. Sana's bed was higher than mine and all I could see was a contraption made up of cords and pulleys. I looked up to see Sayde standing at my side, "What is all that?"

"It's called a traction machine; the ropes are used to keep Sana's bones and joints stretched out."

"Why?" I asked, but Sayde smiled her smile and went into the room, dragging me along with her. She walked to the side of Sana's bed and I went to the end examining the ropes and pulleys that were attached to Sana's legs, pulling them straight. It looked more like a machine from a horror movie, but hey I'm just a kid, what do I know?

"Sana's legs were crushed when the car she was in was hit by a drunk driver. She was here on holiday from India with her grandparents; unfortunately they didn't survive the crash."

I gasped and Sayde looked at me, "You okay James?"

I'd heard about death, but I'd never come into contact with it before, "Dead?"

"Yes James, and Sana is alone and in a lot of pain."

All the bad words I'd muttered last night tasted like acid in my mouth, "I'm sorry Sana."

"She doesn't understand your words James, but she can understand how you say them. Come and say hi."

I walked up next to Sayde and pulled the small step the hospital kept for kids to use, from under the bed. I slowly climbed up as my ribs protested and promised to hurt me for my efforts later. Sana came into view and when she looked at me my heart broke a little. Her eyes were full of pain and sorrow and a tear rolled down my face. "She can feel your sadness James, try not to show it. She needs your strength."

"I'm not a strong person Sayde."

"I know you better than you think I do young man. I'll come back soon, if you need to rest be careful climbing back down the step okay?"

"Sure, see you just now."

I turned my attention to Sana who was dressed in one of the hospital gowns exactly the same as mine. Her skin was dark brown and her hair was lank and matted but her eyes looked like the deepest pools of black I'd ever seen and I found myself lost inside them. She spoke but I didn't understand anything so, taking the lead from Sayde, I smiled and brushed the hair out of her face with my semi-good hand. "You're going to be all right Sana," I said in the most assertive voice I could manage, but as I looked down at her disfigured and broken legs I had doubts and she must have caught the inflection in my voice and started to cry again. I tried smiling and speaking, but it didn't help and I just stood and held her hand as the tears flowed down her cheeks and deep inside I felt her pain.

By the time Sayde got back both of us were crying and she tried to take me back to my room but there was no way I was leaving Sana. If she wanted to cry then I would cry with her until she was ready to do something else. She was my mission and nothing and no one would get in the way. We were both broken and if we were both in the same boat I would be the captain. "Come James you can see her another time."

Sana grabbed my hand and I shook my head, "Sorry Sayde but she needs me and I ain't going anywhere."

"Fair enough James."

"What are the chances of getting them to move my stuff in here?"

"Oh, I reckon I could make a case for it."

"Good, because if not I'll do it myself if I have to."

Sayde laughed, "I'm sure you would James, I'm sure you would."

***

By the time Mum came to visit that night I had all my stuff, including the telly, moved into Sana's room and she was finally asleep. I wanted to shout out to Mum that I was here as I saw the look of dismay on her face. As I climbed out of my bed I heard Sayde's voice explaining to Mum what had happened and by the time I got there she had a hankie out and was drying her eyes. "Sorry Mum, I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"Don't worry James I'm a big girl," she smiled and tried to hug me.

"I'd wait a while for that Mum, come on let's go to the lounge, I have questions."

"You do? Not about girls I hope, that sort of thing is your dad's territory."

"Mum!" She smiled and had that gotcha look on her face. We found a couple of empty chairs and I folded my broken bones into the plastic seat without showing too much discomfort. If I let on how much pain I was in she would take me back to my bed and I needed some answers.

"So, what's so important James?"

I took a deep breath and started, "What can you tell me about the Bird Witch?"

"The what? What are you talking about James? Something you saw on the telly?"

"No Mum, the Bird Witch, the Old Woman of the locks?" She still had a blank look on her face, "The old woman that saved me from Furmidge's gang! The one that called the ambulance!"

"Oh, you mean Missus Maize."

"Missus Maize," I repeated out loud. "So that's her name."

"She's the old woman that won't sell that shack of hers to the council. She's the last one of the old locks people left. Don't really know that much about her. She said that she found you on her doorstep and called the cops." I must have had a very confused look on my face because Mum jumped straight in with all the wrong conclusions. "She did this didn't she? I bloody well knew she was evil! I told your dad she was mad but no, no one listens to me, do they? You wait till I get home and tell your dad, he'll be straight round there, don't you worry James!"

"Mum stop," I shouted a little too loudly and conversations all around us halted in mid-sentence and I sensed what felt like a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me. "She saved me Mum, they would have killed me, I swear. She took them all on and scared them away, then she took me to her home and called the ambulance. If it wasn't for her..." I choked as the story played back in my mind. My heart raced and my ears felt like they would explode as I started to sweat and shiver at the same time.

"It's okay Son, relax," Mum said trying to calm me down. "Just breathe okay."

I tried to take deep breaths but my lungs felt full. I started to panic and cough. Mum screamed for help and Sayde came charging down the corridor toward me and I blacked out, again.

As I came to Mum was busy pushing people away from where I had fallen and Sayde's face had a look of concern pasted all over it. "I'm okay," but as I tried to stand a shot of pain caused me to crumple back onto the floor.

"You're going to be alright James, you had a panic attack. Just lie still and I'll get some help."

The news made me feel even worse and my heart began to race again as everyone stared at me.

Sayde left and Mum knelt down beside me and stroked my hair, "Oh my baby boy, what have they done to you?"

"I'm okay Mum," but I knew I wasn't.

"I'll kill those bastards James, I promise you!"

"Mum please, I just want to get back to my bed and sleep." Sayde rushed back and pushed through the crowd with a gurney. Two male nurses picked me up as I cried a little too much and wheeled me back to my room. As we moved through the corridor I heard Sayde talking to Mum about it being natural for someone who's gone through an experience like mine to need help, and I heard Mum cry. That was just too much for me and I gave in to the tears and lost myself in the pain.

I don't remember too much about the rest of that night, Sayde had come and given me a pill when Mum left and Sana's crying never bothered me.

When the morning came around and the night nurse flooded our room with daylight I was feeling much better and spent a few hours trying to communicate with Sana by drawing pictures and writing names and pointing to things. She managed to say my name but it sounded more like Jims. I guess it was a start and the language barrier wasn't as big a thing as I thought it would be. Sayde arrived for work and was half-talking to the night nurse and half-watching us as I looked up and waved to her. Sana and I were both in a good mood and were laughing at our poor efforts at drawing as Sayde stood by our door with a big smile on her face.

"Feeling better James?"

I smiled back and carried on drawing a picture of a boat before saying the word slowly for Sana to repeat. She now knew the words for lion, house, flower and boat and she had taught me the Hindi words for each of them.

"Well if we ever need to have a conversation about a lion stalking through our houseboat's garden we'll be fine." I laughed and Sana laughed back even though she didn't understand me. The universal language of children far outweighs any language spoken anywhere on the planet.

"James, you have a doctor's appointment in an hour, an orderly will be along soon to take you there, okay?"

"Okay," I said thinking nothing of yet another doctor poking at my ribs and prodding my arm.

"Sana has an appointment with her specialist now so pack up the crayons and try to tidy up a bit."

"Yes Mum," I joked but Sayde raised an eyebrow at me and I knew I had pushed my luck a little too far.

The orderly arrived to take Sana to her meeting a quarter of an hour later and it took me a couple of minutes to calm her down and somehow convince her that it was okay.

For the first time since I moved I found myself alone in our new room. I switched on the telly but there was nothing worth watching and I reluctantly turned it off. The one thing that the new room had that mine didn't was a window with a view. The sight from the old window was just of the car park where sad-faced people left their vehicles to visit friends and family staying here. The new view was much better and as I gazed over the city a sudden fear gripped my body. The hugeness of what lay out in front of me was just too much for my mind to deal with, and I tried to pull the curtains closed with my one good arm, but only managed to half-pull the curtain rail off the wall before I collapsed onto the floor and curled up into a ball under my metal bed.

Sayde rushed into the room and called out my name but the feeling of dread had me shaking and I couldn't respond. The more I tried to let her know where I was the more the anxiety kicked in and my chest started to hurt and my breathing became shallower. Sayde must have heard me and dropped onto the floor but instead of trying to pull me out she rolled under the bed and put her arms around me, "It's going to be alright James, I'm here for you. Just breathe; everything is going to be alright."

Her words drifted into my ears but the fear and panic pushed them out. Thoughts of the world outside and people all going somewhere, doing something, was overwhelming. I was pressed in amongst them and they all pushed me around, trying to get me out of their way. They ignored my cries for help. I was lost with no one and nothing to help me. I tried to push Sayde away but she hung onto me saying words that made no sense to me. The only thing I wanted to do was hide here, far away from all those people, so many people. I tried to calm myself by imagining a world where there was no one, but then everything was so big and how was I supposed to deal with a whole world, all alone? I screamed as the anxiety bit deeply and nothing in my head felt right. I vomited over both of us and felt strong hands carefully drag me out from under the bed and sit me down in a chair by the window. As my eyes wandered to the outside world the panic took hold and I screamed out again. Sayde rushed to the window and managed to somehow block out the light with the broken curtain rail and then dropped to her knees and hugged me.

"James look at me." I lifted my head and stared into her blue eyes, "It's okay, I'm here for you. You've done nothing wrong."

Tears flowed down my face, my bottom lip quivered and my body shook, but Sayde held me and I felt like I was in the best place I could possibly be. "I'm sorry," I managed to say through clenched teeth.

"You don't have to be sorry James, but I think we both need a wash. What do you say about getting you into a new gown and you having a sleep?"

"I have to see the doctor," I managed to say through the tears.

"I'm sure he won't mind waiting." Sayde lifted me up and asked the orderly to leave before pulling the curtain around my bed, cleaning me up and changing me into a fresh gown before tucking me back into bed. "Just rest okay?"

"Okay but please don't leave me alone."

"I'm here James, you can trust me." Sayde was right, I could trust her. I closed my eyes and slept.

***

I don't know what time I woke up but something told me I wasn't alone and that the person wasn't Sana, Mum or Sayde. I kept my eyes closed but a man's voice spoke, "Hi James, I'm Doctor Goulding. How are you feeling?" His voice sounded calm, not like a _he didn't care_ calm, more like a _concerned_ calm.

I opened my eyes and saw an elderly man in a doctor's white coat sitting next to my bed with a folder open on his lap. He had grey hair that was pushed back and held in place by a pair of round rimmed glasses. "Hi," was all I managed to say. The morning had been challenging and for the second time in two days I had been sick like I'd never been sick before. It wasn't a sick like the flu or tonsillitis, it was something different and it scared the hell out of me.

"You've had quite a morning of it young man. Do you want me to pull the privacy curtain back or are you okay with them being closed?"

"Closed," I said anxiously, the feelings I'd had earlier were still hovering just below the surface of my mind and having to see all the people through that window again scared the crap out of me, "please," I added.

"Whatever works for you James."

"Where's Sana?"

"She's with her doctor having rehabilitation." He must have seen the look of confusion on my face, "It's like small exercises to keep her fit while she's healing."

"Oh, on her legs?"

"No, from what I hear it will be some time before she's allowed to even move them. The rehab is for the rest of her body so it doesn't get lazy and stop working."

"I never thought about that."

"Do you like to be around Sana?"

"She needs my help, she doesn't know anyone here and she doesn't speak much English."

"And you think it's your job to help her?"

"She's my friend, I have to help her!"

The doctor smiled, "That's very noble James."

"Thanks Doc, I think." I'd heard the word before but I wasn't one hundred percent sure of what it meant.

"But I have to ask, what do you think will happen when you go home?"

"I'll come back every day until she's well, I've done it before with my cousin. He lost his entire skin, like a snake!"

"Wow, and you helped him recover?"

"Well who else was there? Everyone in our families has a job, Doc."

"And you think it's your job to look after everyone?"

"As I said, someone has to do it. Don't get me wrong here, my mum and dad are champions and they work their butts off to give me and Sean a good upbringing, and don't you go telling anyone any different." I felt an anger in me that was new and this doctor was asking was too many questions! "And Doc, it's none of your business!"

"Whoa slow down there, I meant no disrespect James. I'm just trying to help you okay? What we speak about is strictly private between you and me."

"You won't speak to Mum and Dad about this?"

The grey-haired man pulled the glasses off his head and balanced them on his nose, "What we speak about is private. I'll only tell your parents that we met and what my diagnosis is, the details will remain between us unless you tell me I can speak to them about specifics."

"What sort of doctor are you?"

"I'm what's called a psychiatrist and my specialty is paediatrics."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Well simply put, I try to help children like you to understand what's happening in their minds. How much do you remember about this morning?"

I hung my head and looked at the pictures Sana and I drew on my cast on my right arm, "All of it I guess."

"James, you don't have to be ashamed of what happened. It's natural for you to feel this way. Let me tell you what I know and you can fill in any blanks as I go, just so we're both on the same page." I nodded, "Well if I'm right, this started last night when you and your mum went to the visitors' lounge to talk, yes?" I nodded again. "Okay if I ask a question about that?"

"Sure."

"How did you feel when you got there?"

I thought about it for a moment, "Busy."

"The room was busy?"

"Yes, but no, the room was busy but so was my mind."

"And that made you feel ill?"

"Not like a stomach ache, but yeah, I guess so."

"Okay that's a great start. This feeling, where do you think it came from?"

"Everywhere at once, by heart was beating like I just finished a race, my ears were full like I was underwater and I couldn't focus my eyes." I spoke so fast that I wasn't sure that the doc understood me, but he sat nodding his head.

"That's called being overwhelmed James, like you're not in control of anything?" It was my turn to nod. "How was your breathing?"

"I couldn't take a deep breath and my lungs felt like they were full of something."

"That's a natural side effect of being overwhelmed; it can happen to anyone and often does. When I was in medical college I used to get those same feelings before exams and the only way to deal with them was to go to the dorm, turn all the lights out in my room and lie down until it passed."

"Yeah that would work."

"So, what made you feel that way?"

"Everything was too much for me. Mum thought the person that saved me was the one that did all of this, but it wasn't, and she wouldn't listen. And the angrier she got the more I couldn't handle it. The worse I got, the more upset she got, and I love my mum and this is all my fault! There are too many people, everything is just too big and I can't, I just can't..." I could feel the room starting to spin, my breathing became shallow and I started panicking.

Doctor Goulding stood next to my bed with his hand on my right hand holding it tight, "It's fine to feel this way James, if that's the way you see things just know that it's okay to do so."

I focused on his words and tried to fight down feelings but it was impossible, and the tears started streaming down my face again. "What's happening to me Doc?" I spluttered.

He smiled, "It's called an anxiety attack. Just try to relax and it will pass okay?"

I nodded and hung onto his words like a sinking man hanging onto the only piece of wood in a heaving sea of freezing dark water, and it scared the hell out of me. "I'm okay Doc," but I wasn't and Doctor Goulding knew it.

Later that day when Doctor Goulding had left, Sana came back. Sayde had pulled the bedside curtain back, but left the window curtain closed. I could see that she was in a lot of pain. When I saw her grimacing in agony my own pain disappeared and only hers mattered. I climbed out of bed and hoisted myself onto hers and sat brushing her forehead, "You're alright Sana," I found myself chanting, "You're alright."

***

The next morning I was wheeled down to Doctor Goulding's rooms. His offices were in a suite and the waiting room was a shared area. I shivered; there were just too many people. I grabbed a copy of Home DIY off the table and read the words on the page slowly, trying to concentrate on the sound of each one as they blocked out the noise from the chattering people all around me.

It felt like hours until I was called, but in reality I had only gotten halfway through an article on how to build a bench. If I were to have taken a pop quiz on what I'd read I would have failed miserably. A nice-looking nurse asked me to hold onto a file as she pushed me into Doctor Goulding's room and left me there alone.

The white-walled room was sparsely decorated with pictures of a dissected brain and arrows pointing to words I couldn't read. His desk was a large wooden monstrosity with several books piled in one corner, a few picture frames facing away from me in the middle and two trays, one on top of the other, with files piled high in the other corner. The nurse had removed the plain wooden chairs that were placed in front of the desk and she'd parked my wheelchair just out of reach of the photo frames. I guessed that they were of his wife and two kids, even though I had no idea if he was even married. Something about him having a family made me feel safer in the room. There was a window behind his desk and I was thankful that the blinds were closed but at the same time I felt a little anxious that there could be anything hiding behind them, watching me.

Doctor Goulding entered the room behind me, "Morning James."

I felt like I was at school in front of the headmaster for being naughty and I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Morning Sir," as I attempted to stand up.

"Whoa, slow down James, there are no formalities here. You're my guest not my servant, just relax and remember it's just you and me." He must have seen me looking warily at the blinds behind his desk. "Do the blinds bother you?" I shook my head not wanting to sound stupid. "What's behind the blinds makes you feel uneasy?" I nodded. "Well I'm going to show you what I've never shown anyone else, so I want you to trust me, okay?" My heart was racing but I nodded in agreement. He walked behind his desk and took hold of the white cord that controlled the blinds and said, "Ready?" I nodded again even though I wasn't ready at all. "Ta da!" He pulled on the cord and my heart raced as they climbed upward in their strings, revealing a brick wall.

"I don't get it."

Doctor Goulding laughed, "It's an illusion that the hospital uses to make my patients feel at home. Apparently people feel more relaxed if they think that there is a lovely view behind the blinds even though in reality it's just a brick wall, so I always leave them closed. But you're different so I promise that when we speak I'll leave them open. Is that okay with you?" I nodded, "Magic, so how are you doing today?"

"I have a question."

He looked taken aback, "Sure fire away."

"Am I going mad?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well you're a head doctor and I'm here so I must have something wrong with my brain. I was listening to some of the conversations in the waiting room, even though I was trying hard not to, and they said you were a shrink. What's that all about?"

Doctor Goulding laughed, "Did they really? Well it's an interesting question, one shrouded in mystery and secrecy; you want to hear the story?" I nodded vigorously. "They call people that work in my profession shrinks because of lost tribes in faraway lands that shrink the heads of their enemies to keep them on sticks as prizes!" I sat open-mouthed as he told his tale. "But we haven't done that in a very long time." He winked at me and I knew he was kidding but I also stored the information away so I could go to the library and check into it, just in case! "These days it's because what we try to do is shrink a person's problem to a manageable size so they can live normally."

"I'm not normal?"

"James, you are very normal. Everyone has feelings like you do, yours are just bigger than other people's and it's hard for you to manage on your own so that why I'm here, to help you manage."

"With drugs?"

"Do you want drugs?" I shook my head forcefully. "I'll be honest with you James, some people need drugs but I think your problems are because of a few things that we may be able to deal with here."

I was relieved, I knew a few kids that were on drugs from their doctors and they were hounded by the bullies in school and there was no ways I was going to be one of them, "No drugs Doc."

"Want to tell me why?" I explained the problem with the kids in school as he sat and listened. "Many bullies in your school James?"

"Probably the same amount as any school I suppose. But school's not the real problem."

"Oh, so what is?"

"The bullies in the crescent, they hang about at the back of our house and if you're not a part of their gang you're dead meat."

"So it was these bullies that hurt you and broke your arm?"

"No, not really, they were chasing me and I fell through a roof trying to hide from them."

"So why were you running from them?"

"I kicked one of them in the nuts because they had me trapped."

"Ah, that would do it. So, bullies at home in the crescent and bullies at school. I spoke to your mum," I glared at him, "relax James, I spoke to your mum before we had our first conversation. She told me you are an accomplished runner, fifteen hundred metres, that's a hell of a race. One of my favourites to watch when it's on the telly."

"I like running."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know, I just like it and I like the people that I train with."

"Any bullies there?"

"No, it's like a club that lets you be who you are and doesn't judge as long as you keep your nose clean and you work hard."

"You like working hard?"

"I like winning and if you don't work hard you don't win."

"So, it's only winning that counts?"

I thought about his question and it seemed like a trap, "That's a bit below the belt Doc."

"Sorry James, but some of the tough questions are the right ones to ask, and if we're going to understand what's bothering you, the tough questions are normally the best ones."

"Fair enough, no, I like winning but I like being part of the club more. If I never won again it wouldn't bother me but I think it would bother all the grownups. My folks and my coach think I could go the whole way one day."

"And what do you want?"

"I guess I want what they want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," but I wasn't and there was a nagging doubt in my stomach where only certainty lived before. We spoke for another hour until the doc said that time was up and I could go back to see Sana.

"I'll see you the same time tomorrow James."

"Okay Doc but I'll be leaving the hospital in a few days so we'll have to work faster and harder at this."

"James?"

"Yes Doc?"

"How do you feel about staying on for a few extra days, so we can chat more and not have to rush things?"

"Sure, I guess so, and that will give me more time with Sana!"

"Good I'll make the arrangements and I'll see you tomorrow then."

Buoyed by the good news I went back to the waiting room until the orderly came to pick me up and for some reason the people chirping all around me didn't seem to bother me as much.

***

I spent the next week travelling between Doctor Goulding's room and another female doctor called Mary who was a psychologist, which I learned was a head doctor that couldn't supply drugs. She taught me how to relax and breathe properly but she wasn't someone I could talk to like I could talk to Doctor Goulding. She was all fluffy and airy-fairy and I felt uncomfortable around her, the same as I felt around Aunty Sheila who smelled of cigarettes and liked to hug me more that I wanted to be hugged, and it creeped me out.

Sana and I had a whole new language set up that only us and Sayde knew and we had hours of fun together. When the week was up Doctor Goulding said that I had made enough progress to go home but he promised me that if I needed to come back to the hospital, my bed next to Sana's would be waiting. When I returned to the ward with the good news Sayde was waiting for me but Sana was nowhere to be seen. Sayde had that look on her face that all grownups use when there's bad news and I gingerly sat on the chair next to her.

"How was your meeting with Doctor Goulding?" she asked.

"Fine, where's Sana?"

"Her parents arrived from India and they've had Sana moved to London to a special children's hospital. She left you this." Sayde handed me a red envelope with a heart drawn on the cover. My stomach knotted and a tear filled the corner of my eye. I opened the card and smiled at the picture of a lion with a flower in his mouth standing next to a house on a boat. I opened the card and saw a giant heart with the word _dhanyavaad James, mohabbat Sana_. "It means..."

"I know what it means."

She placed her hand in mine and held it for a moment. "James, I'm sorry."

"I thought I could come and see her when I went home, I guess now I won't."

"She's in the best possible place to recover with the best care."

"She may be in the best place, but the best care, I think not, you're the best care Sayde."

Sayde wiped a tear away from her eye and brightened up, "So tomorrow is the big day! Time to go home. You must be so excited. I spoke to your mum and she told me they have a party lined up for you, but don't tell her I told you."

My heart began to beat in my ears and I could feel the anxiety rise again but I'd been practicing what Mary taught me and the feeling began to shrink, "Thanks for telling me Sayde."

"Sure thing James, what are friends for?" She winked at me and left me to spend some time in my own head.

The curtains were open and I was now able to face the world outside without completely losing my marbles. My ribs were still feeling like the Ultimate Warrior had suplexed me, but my left arm was nearly back to normal and my right had little or no pain and was still wrapped in its cast. I stood in front of the window and watched the world go by and thought about Doctor Goulding. I'd be seeing the old man next week and every week thereafter until we both thought I was okay not to. I really liked him. He listens without actually doing anything, and when you live in a household like mine sometimes it helps just to be listened too and not go jumping into the problem with both feet. Doctor Goulding said I was a pacifist, another word I intended to look up in the library back at school when no one was looking.

I remember my mum playing a song over and over one day on the eight-track, and those words seemed to be going around and around in my mind as I watched men and women duck in and out of cars trying to stay dry as the rain poured down. _All the lonely people, where do they all come from?_ For the first time in my life I truly felt on my own even though I was surrounded by people that I knew loved me, and it hurt worse than any pain I had ever felt before.

***

I packed my stuff into a small suitcase that Mum brought with her the next morning and asked her to go and wait in the visitors' lounge while I got changed. Dad was waiting in the car by the front entrance of the hospital and didn't want to let it get towed away for illegal parking, so I hurried as much as possible. I'd said my goodbyes to Sayde last night as she ended her shift before going onto her days off. There were tears and I had clung onto her so hard that she actually had to ask me to stop before she could start to breathe again. When I let go I knew I had to man up and say goodbye, but it was hopeless. Sayde was the second friend I had lost in a matter of days and it hurt deep down.

I finished packing and checked the cupboards before picking up Sana's card which took pride of place at the top of my case, safe from getting folded up in amongst my clothes and wash stuff. I was about to call for the orderly to take me to Mum when my eye caught another card that lay face down on my cupboard. I picked it up and a black feather fell out as I opened it and I read the message from Missus Maize the Bird Witch. When I'd checked the envelope before I could have sworn it was empty, maybe the old woman really was a witch. A smile crossed my lips as new possibilities opened up before me, something deep within me understood that the old woman saved me for a reason and it was time to find out why.

Three

The ride home in the car was a nightmare. Mum and Dad sat in silence until another driver cut in front of Dad and he unleashed a torrent of colourful language at the offender. Mum poked him in the ribs to remind him I was in the back. We hadn't had a chance to talk about my trips to Doctor Goulding but I knew that they were dying to ask, so I put them out of their misery as we turned into Locksway Road. "Doctor Goulding helped me a lot. He taught me to not get overwhelmed, but I still do sometimes and he says that's normal. So, if I get a little freaked out now and then just try to be normal okay?"

Mum turned to face me, "What do you mean normal?"

I gulped and wanted to take back what I just said but there was no going back. "Do you remember what happened in the visitors' lounge Mum, you know, when I spazzed out?" She nodded with a look of concern on her face. "Well it was because I wasn't in charge of what was happening and I felt everything was spiralling out of control, and that's not good for me. It's not your fault Mum but the stress sort of gets to me when you go off on one."

The look on Mum's face was one of shock, "I do not go off on one!"

I felt like crap for telling her and was thankful that Dad jumped in, "Yes you do love. As soon as there's a problem you jump in and try to sort it out and sometimes it makes things worse, not better." I was shocked that Dad would take my side and not Mum's. It was the first time ever! I could feel Mum's anger rising and I bit my lip hoping she wouldn't explode, but she took a deep breath and calmed down before Dad carried on. He addressed me this time, "The doctor called us in yesterday after visiting hours Son, he never went into any details but he said that you were working hard at whatever you're doing together and that we had to be as honest with you as we possibly can be. So I think it's important that we do exactly that, and Mum knows that's right but it's not easy for us either, so if we're going to do it we're going to do it together. It ain't going to be quick and we all need to remember that. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to James, but just know that if you do want to we will listen and try to understand okay?"

I didn't know what to say so I said nothing. Mum had pulled a tissue from her bag and blew her nose so loudly that Dad and I started laughing as we pulled into Seaway Crescent, and I was home at last. So why did I get a feeling in my stomach that things were never going to be the same again?

***

It was a week until Mum said I could leave the house. My ribs were still sore but mostly healed, and the only visible injury was the cast on my right arm which I'd managed to break at the wrist enough to accomplish basic tasks. I went upstairs and pulled on the same shirt I had worn when Furmidge and his goons had chased me to the locks, but as I reached the bottom of the squeaky stairs I heard the familiar sound of a football clatter into the garage doors at the back of our house and a feeling of dread ran up my spine. There was only one gang in the crescent that played football out the back and I knew that my nemesis would be one of them. Everything in my body screamed at me to go and hide in my room and not go outside but one of the things I'd worked on with Doctor Goulding was fear of the unknown. I steadied my breathing and gritted my teeth. I'd spent over three weeks either in hospital or at home and I needed to get out in the open air before the walls closed in on me and my mind gave in to never going out again. If Furmidge was out there I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of keeping me down, it was time to take back my freedom.

Mum was in the kitchen and she fussed over me saying that maybe I should wait a while but I shook my head and smiled at her, "I'll be fine."

"If that bloody boy..."

"Mum, you're doing it again."

She took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay James, I'm on it don't worry, but I'll be watching."

"Okay, I'm just going for a walk around the block, I won't be long." I stepped out the back door and walked the length of the garden as my heart nearly beat out of my chest. I saw the ball fly through the air and crash into the metal garage door and heard a familiar voice.

"Looks like the cripple's back!" It was spit girl leaning up against the wall of number one. I shot her a look of contempt but failed to say anything. I heard the backdoor open and felt a presence beside me.

"Is there a problem here?" Sean asked spit girl. He hadn't said too much to anyone since I got home and stayed in his room playing Elvis songs most of the time. "Because anything you have to say to him you can say to me Meesh, and we both know how that will end. Now move your skanky ass away from that wall and take a walk before I open this gate and make you."

The girl turned away, grabbed her monster and walked back up toward their end of the crescent. The boy who I'd kicked in the nuts picked up the ball and crossed the car park with one hand held up, "We don't want any trouble Sean. Meesh has got a big mouth but she doesn't speak for us."

"So, who does?"

"Well, I guess that's me."

I felt Sean's hand on my shoulder. "James this is Danny Rose," he turned his attention to the boy with the shaved head. "What's it going to be Roser?" Everyone had a nickname in the crescent and Roser, with his red cheeks and nose, suited the boy.

"You'll get no trouble from us Fry." Fry was Sean's nickname. It used to be small fry but Sean took after Dad and when his hormones kicked in he grew. Even at fourteen he was bigger than most of the sixteen-year olds that hung around with Furmidge. Roser saw me looking around, "He's not here Beep, the cops took him two weeks ago and no one's seen him since." Unfortunately for me Beep was my nickname, and it was all because I was a runner. As with all nicknames it started out as something entirely different and it was all Sean's fault. We were sitting at home watching the box and a roadrunner cartoon came on the telly and Sean shouted, "That's you, you're the roadrunner!" And so, I was nicknamed, but that soon shortened to runner and then some smartass started to make the sound that the roadrunner used and all of a sudden I was just Beep, and it'd stuck.

I nodded because the words just didn't want to come out of my mouth. I looked up at Sean who hadn't taken his eyes off Roser. I wanted thank him, but he didn't look at me and strutted back into the house. I cautiously opened the gate and ventured into the parking lot and made my way to the hole in the wall. I looked Roser in the eye as I passed him and he nodded back to me and a peace accord was struck. Whether it was out of guilt for what happened or whether Roser was just a decent guy I don't know as we never spoke again after that one short and threatening conversation with Sean.

I walked through the hole in the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. I'd faced the enemy and I came out unscathed, thanks to some divine intervention from my brother. Now it was time to face the rest of what had happened the day I fell through the roof. I walked around the street that passed the Oyster House and onto the pathway toward the bridge. The summer sun shone down and warmed my body but inside the cast my arm was itchy and was driving me crazy. I found a stick thin enough to shove down between my skin and the plaster and the relief of the scratch felt amazing.

I came to the fork in the trail and once again the question whether it would have been better or not to have taken the other path played out in my mind. I took a step toward the bridge and the red corrugated roof rose out of the horizon and stood out like a sore thumb amongst the more natural coloured buildings. I must have been mad in the head to have picked such an obvious target! Yes, it was the highest roof and yes it was my best chance at hiding but it was so obvious to anyone with half a brain that I'd be up there. I crossed the bridge and stood in front of the small wall and dared myself to climb the roof one last time, but as I stood on the wall I reached out and the plaster dug into my arm as a reminder that this was probably a really bad idea.

I decided to skip the climb and walk the long way around. When I reached the front, both doors stood open and I could see sunlight illuminate the floor of the building, "Cheaper than electricity!" As I took the first step toward the building I froze as memories of the beating flooded my mind, and even though the sun was baking I could feel a cold sweat on my brow. _You're better than this_. I managed to drag myself, internally kicking and screaming, to the open doorway. Once I was there the anxiety seemed to lessen and I stepped in and examined the hole in the roof. I half-expected it to be James shaped but it was just a normal hole and directly underneath it was a cross beam. I knew instantly that that was the reason for my broken ribs. To be honest I have very little recollection of the fall as my nightmares only concentrated on Furmidge beating me.

I found the spot on the floor where my blood still stained the wood and there wasn't as much as I expected. In my dreams there were puddles of the stuff and I almost had to swim to try and get away from my attacker, but the stain was no bigger than the size of a dinner plate and for some unexplained reason I felt disappointed. The room was empty except for a few boxes stacked as if someone had thrown them into the corner. I thought about rooting through them but I heard a scurrying sound to my left and a bird flew into the air. The noise scared the crap out of me and I ran from the building straight into the arms of Constable Ford, the local copper.

"Slow down there James Fisher."

I panicked, how come Ford knew me by name? I was never in trouble, what the hell? And then came the realisation that he would have been in charge of securing the area after the cops had been called. "Sorry officer," I said as he straightened me up and let me go.

"No need Son, how are you doing?"

"Been better, been worse, you know how it is."

"Yeah, I do, first time I've seen you since your accident."

It was an accident? I thought it was an attack, "Yeah, just got out from QA Hospital, thought I'd come and see what mess I caused."

"Well from what I know it wasn't your fault at all so you can forget that. I don't know what you did to that hooligan Furmidge, but whatever it was, you certainly didn't deserve that. Case is in court in three weeks. You ready?"

My heart beat so hard I thought it would jump out of my mouth and run down the slipway, "What?"

The copper sized me up and squatted down to my height, "Furmidge was arrested for the attack and charged with grievous bodily harm. His case comes up in three weeks and if you're up to it they want you to testify. I guess no one's spoken to you about it." I shook my head. "Well I don't believe in keeping things a secret and I don't care for sugar coating things either. You can tell your mum and dad that I told you and I reckon they'll fill in the blanks." I could feel the anger rising inside of me and started to walk towards home but he stopped me in my tracks. "Hold on James, whatever you're feeling is probably just anger, let it go right now. Try and look at this from their perspective, it may have been tough on you but I'm betting it was just as bad for them."

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down, "We spoke and they promised me that there would be no lies about this!"

"No one lied to you James. They have their reasons for not telling you yet and I'm sure they are very good reasons. So man up and deal with it."

I was a little shocked at how P.C. Ford was talking to me but I must admit it did make me feel that we were speaking on equal terms; it was like speaking with Dad but without all of the emotional crap. "I'll think about it."

"You do that young man and before you go I want you to take one last look at that building and then put it out of your mind for good. The council are going to rip it down after the case is finished and all this stuff can be put to rest."

"The court case, what if I don't want to go?"

"Well no one can tell you to go, you'll have to make that decision all on your own, you up to that?"

I scratched my head, "I dunno, maybe."

"And that's why you need to speak to your family about it. Listen to what they have to say and then take some time making your mind up. There's no hurry James, you're a small part of the Furmidge case. He's been charged with more than just the attack on you. If you decide not to go he could still end up in the hole."

My head and my heart were in conflicting places. I had no idea what I should do, "What would you do?"

"Makes no never mind Son, just do what you think is right and try to see the big picture. You're not the only one he hurt, and if he gets off you won't be the last. Some people are just born bad and it ain't no one's fault but themselves."

I looked down at my dirty old trainers and nodded, "I'll think about it."

"You do that James and if you want to talk about it I'm always around here somewhere, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, now be off with you, and James, take your time about things."

"Sure, thanks P.C. Ford."

The copper smiled and walked toward the bridge.

I could have followed him and gone home that way but that would have been embarrassing, so I headed toward the Thatched House pub and the house where Missus Maize lived. It was more of a large shed than a house and was surrounded by a short, white, weather-worn wooden fence like the one I'd seen in the American movies on the telly. As I approached the wind picked up and blew sand into my face. I could hear several chimes playing their own rhythmical melodies as I got closer to the building and a feeling of dread washed over me. I liked stories of witches and dragons being killed by brave knights and I had one particular book that I loved to sit at the kitchen table and read to Mum as she cooked the Sunday roast.

The rickety old shack was exactly as I pictured the witch's house from Hansel and Gretel, only this one wasn't in a forest and it was most certainly not made of candy! I stood at the gate that was held to the gatepost by a few strands of wire and sized up whether to go in and knock on the door. After all, she had invited me, but it seemed just too creepy and I walked away and made my way home where Mum was waiting in the garden with her arms crossed, as the football banged and clattered into the garage doors. It was always the middle of the three that took the worst beating and the thing had so many pock marks on it that it looked like the surface of the moon. Luckily for the local kids the garage was rented out by some of the sports college students that lived over in the Furze Lane dorms and they only ever came to the crescent on weekends.

I always thought of them as cool dudes. Unlike the rest of the crescent's car owners they kept a blow-up rubber duck in theirs and I try to always be around when they come to check on their stuff. I'd learned a lot of swear words from those guys, but they also seemed to put up with my constant barrage of questions about what shitty air was, and why you would want to be weighed down when you could drown. Cool dudes always liked cool kids, so why they chose to speak to me was a mystery.

I ignored the game and smiled at Mum as I passed her, she returned the smile but I think that she knew something was off as she followed me into the house. "So how did it go?" she asked.

"It was alright I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Mum where's Dad?"

"Upstairs, why?"

"And Sean?"

"In his room, doing whatever it is he does, why James?"

"Can you call them? I think we all need to talk."

Two hours later all three of them had apologised for not telling me about the court case, even though I told them that it didn't matter. We'd gone over the pros and cons of taking part and I was really happy that all of the family had input. Even Sean seemed to care about what was happening. At the end of the discussion Mum and Dad told me that the decision was up to me and that they would support me no matter what. When I looked to Sean for advice he shrugged and told me that whatever I decided I would be right. Even though I believed them all it still didn't help me make my mind up.

Mum went off to the kitchen to make everyone some tea and Sean went back to doing his thing and I was left with Dad. I don't know what it's like in other households but in ours the kids only ever got stuck with Dad if you were in trouble or watching the telly. An uncomfortable silence hovered over the room as we sat there staring at the walls, each of us waiting for the other to talk first, so I was happy when he took the lead. "So, man to man, what do you want to know?"

"I wanna know what I'm supposed to do!"

"You wouldn't we rather talk about girls?" he winked at me and I laughed.

"Yes, but not now, seriously Dad what am I supposed to do? And none of the, whatever I want to do crap, tell me straight."

He looked at me for a long time and said, "He kicked your ass and hurt you badly. I've kicked many asses in my time and some I truly regret and some I don't, but I've never had mine kicked so this is all new for me as well. If it was me I'd be looking to find a way to lay a beat down on him any way I can, but you're not me. You're a good boy James, you always have been and you're lucky enough to have a good brain up there." He patted me on the head, "Use it and I reckon you'll know what to do."

I looked at the floor, "I wish I could kick his ass but that's how wars are started and that doesn't make sense to me. I know it's not my fault but I was a part of it and I can't get it out of my head that if I hadn't kicked that kid in the balls none of this would have happened."

"Everything happens for a reason James, most of the time we don't know why but trust me that it does. Take Sana, you would never have met her, or Nurse Sayde, or Doctor Goulding."

"Or Missus Maize," I said under my breath.

"You know she probably saved your life, don't you?"

I hadn't given it much thought but as Dad said those words the realisation hit me hard and my bottom lip started to quiver. Dad put his hand on my head and pulled me close, "It's all good James." Mum opened the door with a tray of tea cups but as she saw me on Dad's lap she closed it behind her and left us alone for a while.

***

I was standing outside of Missus Maize's shack at seven o'clock the very next morning with a bunch of half-wilted flowers that I'd picked from our neighbour's gardens. Once again I felt a surge of anxiety as emotions sent acid racing from my stomach to the back of my throat. I coughed and spat on the ground. "That's a disgusting habit young man," a voice said from behind me and I spun around to see the floppy-looking skin rolls that made up Missus Maize's face. She had her round-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose and a look of disgust flashed in her eyes. I panicked and started to speak but she shook her head as I stumbled through my overly rehearsed _thank you_ speech. "Hang on a minute, here," she reached into the pocket of the pink frilly pinny that she wore around her waist and handed me a used paper tissue. I cringed as I took it but spat into it and handed it back. Needless to say, the look I got could have knocked a building over. I was in a world that I didn't understand one little bit, so I shoved the tissue into my pocket and thrust the flowers in her direction. She raised an eyebrow and took them, "Picked them yourself eh?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Ma'am, am I?"

"Sorry, Missus Maize," I managed to say without sounding like a three-year-old.

"What happened to Bird Witch?" I must have had a look of confusion on my face. "You told me the kids called me the Bird Witch. How come I'm now ma'am? Never mind."

She brushed past me, bustled into the garden and kicked the gate open as she went. I stood and watched her rather large bulk push through the jasmine bushes that lined the pathway and wondered what I was supposed to do next, "I came to say..."

"What's that? You have to speak up; I'm not a young witch any more you know. And don't just stand there, come in!"

Well I had no choice in the matter, I owed the old lady and it was a debt I felt that I had to repay, even if it meant being boiled in her cauldron or worse still, having to massage her aching feet. I'd spent hours the previous night agonizing about what to say to her and I had three different speeches made up, but in all of those scenarios I was standing outside the house and as I walked up the path every single word fell out of my head, "Okay."

The inside of the house was dark even in the bright summer's morning. The whole place smelled like, well I'm not sure what it smelled of, so I'll just call it old person. If there is such a thing. I followed her down the corridor past a room on my right that I guessed at being the lounge and a set of stairs on the left that led into a small kitchen that was about the same size as our breakfast room. I looked around and was surprised to see just a normal looking room with a stove and a fridge, not a cauldron over an open fire or jar upon jar of bits and pieces of kids. "Sit down at the table and I'll put the kettle on, you do drink tea, eh?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Good, then your ma and pa are bringing you up right. Too many kids your age drink that coffee stuff and if you ask me that's what causes their anger issues." I tried not to laugh but the old woman turned her head and winked at me and I let out a giggle. "So I'm guessing you're here to ask me about that bully, are you?" she said, filling the kettle from the kitchen sink tap.

"No, I'm here to say thank you."

She sniffed and plugged in the power lead, "Is that so?" She sat down in the chair opposite me and looked me up and down. "I'm surprised someone as skinny as you could actually fall through a roof."

"Me too."

She grinned at me, "So you've said your thanks, off you go." She pointed at the door down the hallway. I didn't know what to do so I just sat there, "Something else on your mind?"

"The tea?"

She smiled again, "I like a man that knows what he wants. You can tell a lot about a person when tea is involved. My fourth husband wouldn't go to bed at night until the pot was drained dry and then cleaned ready for the next morning. Very organised was my Jack."

"Fourth husband! How many have you had?" I said before I could stop myself.

"Just the five, mind you I had many offers," she smiled again. "Know what I mean?"

"No, I don't."

"Good answer!" She pulled herself to her feet as the kettle boiled and used some of it to warm the pot before adding two heaped spoonfuls of tea leaves and topping it up with the rest of the water. I sat and watched the ceremony, not wanting to put her off. It was like watching a person conducting a very small orchestra with the way she waved the spoon and stirred the pot three times, "Any more than three stirs makes the tea taste bad. Did you know that, boy?"

"My name's James."

"I know," she said matter-of-factly. "James Fisher, twelve years old. One brother that keeps himself to himself and a good mum and dad. You're lucky James Fisher."

"I am?" I asked perplexed.

"Yes, you are. I know all the kids in the crescent and I've known all the parents a lot longer, even though most of them think I'm just an old kook that lives on her own. I broke my leg a couple of years ago and your mum noticed and helped me out. She was the only one that bothered. You're very lucky James Fisher."

"I never thought about it."

"Well you should." She poured the tea and set it down in front of me, "So what's it going to be? You going to rush the tea and get out of here as soon as possible now you've said your bit or are you going to hang around and snoop through the house?"

"I thought I'd hang around but I never thought about snooping."

"Oh do me a favour! It's a witch's house, what twelve-year-old boy in their right mind wouldn't want to snoop about? It's in your genes!"

"I wouldn't do that!"

"I believe you James Fisher, so if you're going to hang around for a bit I suppose you want to meet him."

"Him?"

"Yes him."

"Your husband? I never knew you had one."

"You don't listen so well, I already said I had five."

"Oh yeah, sorry. So he's number five?"

I jumped as the old woman shouted, "Hey you!"

"Bugger off," a voice called out from the room in the front of the house.

"That's him." I was so confused. I thought she lived alone and I was immediately on my feet waiting for the other person to enter the kitchen. "You ready to meet him?"

"Sure," I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

"Then bring the tea on that tray and come with me, but I warn you, he's a bad-tempered old git and he bites, so don't get too close."

I quickly put everything I thought we may need on the tray and followed her down the hallway, half-hiding from and half-trying to see, whoever was in the room, "Shouldn't we bring another cup for him?"

She turned around and looked at me and laughed, "You really have no idea, do you?" I shook my head, "It's why they call me the Bird Witch." She raised both eyebrows and headed into the room.

As I stepped through the doorway she opened the patterned curtain and light flooded through the nets, "This old bag of feathers is called Mr Poe." I searched the room for another person but saw no one, and as I made eye contact with Missus Maize she gestured to the space above my head and I froze. I could sense a presence and it was evil. I could feel its eyes on me and there was a scratching sound like something sharpening a knife on a stone. Missus Maize saw the panic on my face, "Don't move!" I froze on the spot and said a short prayer. "Come here you little shit!" Missus Maize shouted and I heard wings beat and the loudest caw I'd ever heard. I ducked down out of sheer terror and nearly dropped the tea tray. A huge black bird flew over my head and landed on a perch next to the table, and as it sat there it shuffled from one claw to the other eyeing me up and down like I was a Saturday night steak supper.

"That's a raven!" I shouted and took a step out of the room.

"Don't move boy, this old duffer can sense fear and he'll be on you before you make it to the door. The trick is to ignore him and he'll settle down." She turned her attention to the bird, "Now listen here you bad-tempered old git, this here is James Fisher and he's a guest so you calm down and be nice."

I stepped back into the room and tried as hard as I could to not look at the bird, but it was impossible and our eyes locked onto each other. I gritted my teeth and glared my best glare. The bird just did the same back but with more venom than I could ever hope to muster.

"Put the tea tray down and give him this," Missus Maize handed me a small millet bar and I held it out. "No not like that, he'll have your fingers off before you know it. Put it in the palm of your hand and don't flinch." I did as I was told and the bird took the bar and turned his back on me, "There you go, you two are now friends."

I swear I heard the bird mutter some profanity at her remark as it tucked into its snack and crapped on the bird stand all at the same time, "I never knew you had a raven."

"Well neither did I, all these years I thought Mr Poe was a crow." She smiled as I blushed, "Lots of people make that mistake so don't worry. I got him when he was a young 'un and the old git never wanted to leave."

"I thought they called you the Bird Witch because you were cuckoo."

"Oh, cuckoo am I? Seems like you know a lot about birds, eh? Cuckoos and ravens, but it's nothing to crow about," she said, poking her tongue out at me.

I laughed and passed her tea cup across the table, "My mum told me about ravens. Last year I hurt my ankle running the fifteen-hundred metres at the regional finals and she pushed me to school on her bike every day for a solid month. On Monday mornings she'd tell me about the horror movie she'd watched on the telly late on Saturday nights. I loved hearing those stories and I remember the one about the raven! It had a weapon called a Quoth, but it would never use it and it tapped on stuff to drive people mad. When I grow up I'm going to watch that one."

Missus Maize spat and coughed at the same time and tea poured out her mouth and down her nose.

Four

"And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor,

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted \- nevermore!"

"Oh my God! Read that again...please."

"You liked it eh?"

I straightened myself up from sitting literally and figuratively on the edge of my seat and pleaded with her. She just smiled and turned the pages back to the beginning of the poem. When she'd finished for the second time I sat back in the chair, "That's the coolest story I have ever heard. Did you write that?"

"No my young man, I did not. It was written by a man many years ago and his name was Edgar Allen Poe." I looked at the bird, "Yes, I named that old bugger after him."

"It suits him!"

"I think so too."

"So, this Poe guy, wrote a lot or was that it? And how come you know so much about it?"

"Well I am a Bird Witch."

"Funny! No really, how come?"

"Well a million years ago I used to teach at a school in the countryside and English Literature was my thing. Some stories are worth telling, I wonder if your story will ever be told young Fisher."

I waved away the thought. She'd shown me an ocean of wonder and I just wanted to jump in and immerse myself in every single word and phrase that I could bear before I had to go home, but much to my dismay Missus Maize closed the book. "Ah c'mon just one more please!"

She looked at me with a grin, "And what's in it for me?"

I thought for a moment, "What do you want?"

" _Hmmm_ ," she said, making me wait longer than I thought my mind could take. "Well I suppose that gate of mine could do with some help. You do that in the morning, and tomorrow afternoon I'll tell you a tale of the high seas and a monster so big that it could swallow massive sailing ships in a single bite and drag the sailors into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again." I sat nodding enthusiastically, "So we have a deal young Fisher?"

"We do Missus Maize, one job for one story." I spat in my hand and offered it to her to seal the deal.

"Some stories are worth more than a fixed gate."

"Done!" I didn't care! I'd do anything to hear some more of them.

She coughed violently and spat a huge gob of phlegm into her hand and slapped her palm into mine. "Done!"

***

At six thirty the next morning I ran down the stairs, completely ignoring the creaks, groans and the sound of my plaster cast hitting the wall of Sean's bedroom. I grabbed a bowl of Mum's infamous porridge and sat down at the breakfast table trying to look like I was enjoying the meal. Dad peered at me over the top of last night's newspaper where I knew he was hiding the fact that he was picking his horses for the day. Mum was the first to speak, "And to what do we owe this pleasure?"

I smiled and waited for the thick gluey oats to give in and be swallowed, "I have a job."

"Oh do you? And who said you could get a job?"

"It's not like that; I'm helping old Missus Maize with her gate today."

"Good so you found a way to make it up to her, well done Boy," Dad said and went back to his daily ritual.

"Just make sure you don't hurt your arm and those ribs still aren't healed."

"It's just a gate Mum don't worry, but I will need to borrow a few tools from the shed." Dad muttered his approval.

Mum whispered as only Mum could, "Make sure you bring them all home, maybe your dad will take your lead and get to work on the kitchen." She winked at me.

"I heard that," Dad said from behind the broadsheet.

_He was meant to_ , Mum mouthed and grinned, "So what's she paying you or is it a penance for what she did for you?"

"It's not like that."

"Oh, so what's it like then?"

I swallowed another spoonful of concrete and said, "She pays me in stories."

"In what?"

"Stories, she was a school teacher and she has a ton of books. You know what I learned yesterday?" I never stopped for a reply, "A quoth isn't a weapon and a raven isn't a crow!"

"Of course they aren't, where did you get the idea they were?"

"You told me; from those movies you watched and told me about last year."

"I did? I'm pretty sure I didn't tell you a quoth was a gun James. I know what a quoth is."

"So what is it then?" Dad asked folding up the paper now that the conversation was getting interesting.

"You know! It's a thing isn't it, what birds do, they quoth."

"They do?" Dad asked as I burst into laughter and Mum went red with embarrassment. "I thought that's what we do down the pub with a pint of beer."

"That's quaff not quoth."

"Sounds all the bloody same to me."

"It's just a word that means _said_ but Missus Maize says that only the first person can use it, or sometimes the third or something like that. I'll ask her again and tell you tonight."

"Well I quoth that I'm off to work," Dad said and winked at me.

"And I'll do the quothing washing before I quoth your brother out of bed," Mum joked.

I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my breakfast torture, "I'll be back for lunch."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Mum shouted as I ran out the door. I raided Dad's toolbox for a shifting spanner and a few odds and ends and raced around to Missus Maize's shack, but the old woman wasn't at home. Disappointment ran through me but the sound of Mr Poe telling me to "Bugger off," brightened my mood and I got stuck into the broken gate.

I really had no idea what I was doing but I had helped Dad with the cupboards so how hard could it be? I got some bricks from a communal skip the boat builders used and propped the thing up before I went to town with a screwdriver. I've got to admit it wasn't easy with the cast, but I'm not one to give up and the gate was lying on the floor before I knew it. I stripped the hinges off and gave them a good cleaning with some old iron wool to get rid of most of the rust, and then screwed them back into place and hitched the thing back onto the fence post. I gave the gate a quick pull and push and it creaked horribly, but a quick spray of oil and it starting behaving itself.

"Well, well. I seem to have myself a handyman and it ain't even breakfast time yet," Missus Maize said as she walked up behind me.

"For an old woman you sure are quiet," I said startled.

"Old woman, eh?" she sounded annoyed.

"Sorry Missus Maize."

"It's alright Mister Fisher, I am an old woman. But you're forgetting one thing."

"What?"

"That this old woman is a witch and I choose to look like this." She grinned at me, "Pick up all those tools and bring them into the house, I'll put the kettle on."

"And then you can read," I said excitedly.

"We'll see," she sauntered into the house and left me to tidy up.

I waited in the room at the front of the house for Missus Maize to bring the tea and as I sat there Mr Poe stared at me with his beady eyes, like a jailor would be staring at Furmidge before too long. I was still undecided as to whether I would go to the court house or not and it was starting to bug me. I used to like my own company, but ever since that fight spending time in my own mind had become a bit of a bind.

The old woman pushed her large frame into the chair opposite mine and looked at me, "What's up and be quick, the kettle will be ready just now and I don't want it to boil dry."

"It's nothing really."

"Sure it is, otherwise you'd be sneaking a look at all the pictures over there," she pointed to the dresser next to Mr Poe's perch, "and rifling through my drawers...sorry that came out a bit wrong."

We both laughed, "I might have to go to court next week."

"Yeah me too. What about it?"

"You have to go?"

"Special witness the coppers said, apparently if I don't go the world will stop turning." She raised her eyebrows at me.

"You scared?"

"What, of a bunch of toffs wearing funny wigs all calling each other fancy names? Nah."

"No, I mean of Furmidge."

"That piece of trash? Nah, he's just an idiot that belongs behind bars. From what the coppers told me he's in so deep that we won't be seeing him around here for a long time. Why, you scared?"

"No I'm not!" I shouted, but Missus Maize just sat there looking at me. "Yeah I am," I said, admitting my weakness.

"Good. Lying about it won't get you anywhere young man. Now you have two choices: either go and be a man, or don't go and live your life wondering if you should have." She gave me the teacher finger and pointed to my head, "If you let the likes of him live in there you'll never be free of that day James. Think about it, I'll be back soon."

She was right of course but it didn't make it any easier, and as I sat there being eyed up by the mad black crow even more doubt entered my mind. By the time she got back I was in a pretty bad mood, "I still have no idea what to do."

"I didn't say you had to make your mind up now James Fisher, take your time. That's the problem with your generation, you're always in a hurry and sometimes taking your time and making the right decision pays off." She stopped talking and held up a finger, "I was going to tell you the story of Captain Nemo today."

"Who..."

" _Uh uh_ , shush, I'm thinking,"

I poured the tea then added the sugar, and only then the milk. It was supposedly the correct way of making tea, and if you didn't follow that procedure in our house Mum would throw it down the sink and make you start again. Apparently if you did it any other way it didn't taste the same.

"I have another book that might help you make your mind up."

She hauled herself out of the chair and pulled a plain-covered book from the shelf and placed it down in front of me. I picked it up and examined the spine, " _The Count of Monte Christo_ by Alexandre Dumas. This guy had to go to court?"

"Of sorts, but that would be telling. Now I have a few errands to take care of and Mr Poe's mess needs to be cleaned up. While you're there that cabinet needs a good polish. You'll find the stuff in the cupboard under the sink. I'll be back in an hour."

She didn't wait for a response and walked back out of the front door with a basket under one arm and a black woollen hat perched at an odd angle on her head. She looked like a snowman even though the sun was already high in the sky, baking the mud and stewing the seaweed. Most people thought it was a nasty smell but I liked it, it made me feel like I'm home.

I quickly grabbed the cloth and a bottle of polish from the cupboard, took them to the lounge and then returned for the worn-out dustpan and brush. With the brush in one hand and the duster in the other I faced up to Mr Poe who walked up and down on his perch sizing me up, but not moving. "Shoo!" The bird just stared at me with a defiant look on its face, if that's even possible. "Come on Mr Poe, go play somewhere else." I waved the cloth but he just cawed at me and flapped his wings. "Listen dude, I need to clean up your mess before Missus Maize gets back so do me a favour and go fly somewhere else."

"Bugger off."

I waved the brush but the bloody thing just sat there turning its head from side to side challenging me. "Nevermore eh?"

"Bugger off."

"At least the raven was scary; I'm not scared of you Mr Poe!" I lied, and I think the bird knew it. I gave up and sat down at the table. The crow wiped his beak on the perch and shuffled up and down. I needed a different approach so took a few seeds from one of the millet bars, put them on the small tray next to the perch and walked back. The crow cawed and shuffled over to eat the seeds. I held up the rest of the bar and the bird jumped up and down, flapping its wings. I pushed the chair over to the door and stood on top and called the bird, "Come boy!" but it just sat there watching me. "No good eh?"

"Bugger off."

"Okay I will." The small window above the door was missing the glass so I placed the bar on the doorframe in the empty space, walked back to the kitchen and waited until I heard the beating of wings. Success! I ran to the room before Mr Poe could fly back to his perch and went to work cleaning the wooden pole and the surrounding area. Once I'd finished I had a full pan of seed shucks and poop which I took to the kitchen and dumped into the bin that sat by the backdoor. When I got back Mr Poe was back in his place and cawed at me. I'd have liked to think in thanks but I doubted that very much. To prove my point he turned to face the wall and lifted his tail to poop. "Nice! Dirty birdy!"

"Bugger off."

I laughed and started to take the photos off the cabinet to clean once I'd finished with the dark wood. I really got into it and found a kind of peace in the work. For some reason just doing the task freed my mind from thinking about the court case. I found myself singing _Bohemian Rhapsody_ and waving the cloth around like a conductor. I love that song. Ian, one of the boys that lived next door, was seventeen, and constantly played his music as loud as he could. He used to blast out that particular song with his cheap stereo and I used to lie on my bed and soak up the music and pretend to be Freddy, using my hairbrush as a makeshift microphone. By the time I'd finished my version of the song, which I'm sure was very different to Queen's, I'd polished the woodwork and picked up the first of the photo frames that were home to pictures of Missus Maize's family and friends. There were a ton of them, and as I tried to place them back onto the wooden surface I had trouble fitting them all in, until there was only one left, sitting face down on the table. "So where am I going to put you?" I looked for a space and started moving the pictures around but it was no good, either this picture would be in front of everything else or I'd stick it in the back, depending on who was in the frame. "You okay with that?" I asked the back of the picture frame.

"Bugger off."

"Ha!" I laughed at the bird's comedic timing. "So, who do we have here?" I picked up the picture, turned it over and right there and then I knew my life had changed forever. The face of an angel looked back at me and even though the picture was black and white, the most beautiful girl in the whole world captured my heart in the depths of her eyes. I coughed and realised that I had forgotten to breathe, she had literally taken my breath away and I knew what love felt like. My rear end hit the chair and I sat there, staring at the picture, wondering what the colour her eyes were, what she smelled like and where she lived. A million other thoughts bombarded my mind all at once and time stopped. The only two people in the world were the girl in the picture and a grinning young fool called James Fisher.

Five

As I heard Missus Maize barge her way through the front door and into the house. I quickly gave the picture of the girl pride of place at the front of the collection and sat back down, trying to look as innocent as possible. Even though, as far as I knew, I hadn't actually done anything wrong. But all of that changed as Missus Maize shuffled into the room and stared at the pictures and then glared at me. The blood in my body rushed to my face. She grumbled something incomprehensible, picked up the polish and rag that I had forgotten to put back into the cupboard, and tossed them at me. I scampered out of the room and ran to the kitchen as the old lady followed me down the hall. I waited silently as she placed the basket, now filled with potatoes, on to the table and stared at them and then back at me.

"So?"

I must have looked confused.

"Potatoes don't peel themselves James Fisher."

"Oh! Yes, sure thing." I grabbed the peeler from the caddy and went to work on the massive King Edwards that slipped out of my hands as I tried my best to look like I knew what I was doing. Missus Maize watched me intently to make sure I only took the skin off and not half the potato and, when she was sure I was doing it correctly, disappeared back into the front room. My mind automatically produced a picture of the face of my mystery girl and fixed it firmly to the front of my brain.

"Keep working," Missus Maize shouted from the front room. I jumped at the sound of her voice and went back to work peeling the potatoes. How she knew I was slacking was beyond me, maybe she was a witch after all! Either way I kept my head down and peeled for all I was worth. I'd do anything to get out of the kitchen and back into the front room to take one more look at the girl in the picture frame.

I was a little dismayed when Missus Maize waddled back in and sat down with a book in her hand. She placed it on the kitchen table and brought me a bowl of cold water, a sharp knife and a massive bag of carrots. "Potatoes are to be chips and the carrots are for stews. You know how to cut them?" I nodded. "Good, now you work and I'll read, and if you stop so do I. Got it?" I nodded again and started cutting up the spuds into fingers and watched as they bobbed up and down in their small ocean of clean water, like tiny sail boats without masts.

The old woman opened the book to page one and started to read in a voice that only Missus Maize could use, and I was wrapped up in the world of The Count of Monte Christo.

As I finished the last carrot she put down the book. We were a third of the way through the story and I looked at her and said, "More please."

"Ah, that's another story altogether. You've finished your work and it's way past our lunch time."

I looked at the clock above her head and jumped up, "My mum's going to kill me! Sorry Missus Maize, I have to go."

I ran from the house and didn't stop until I got to our backdoor. I was out of breath, the accident had put a halt to my training and I was unfit. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and waited until my heart rate slowed down to its normal gallop. I listened carefully for any signs of Mum on the rampage, but the house was quiet. I snuck in and hoped that the coast was clear enough that I could go straight upstairs and somehow pretend that I had been there asleep all the time.

"James I'm in the lounge!" Mum called.

Oh crap! I shook my head and tried to wipe the salt out of my eyes, my hands still smelled of potatoes mixed with furniture polish, yuck! "Coming Mum," I replied in the most innocent of voices possible. I stepped into the lounge and smiled at Mum. She turned away from the telly and smiled back.

"Thought you were having lunch at Missus Maize's? I ran into her in the shop and she said you were having chips."

I had to think quickly, the old woman had put me on the spot, "Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you're okay Mum."

She had that look on her face that she knew something was up and said, "Sure you did, you do something wrong and she chased you away?"

My mind was racing, had I done something? Was she chasing me away because I put the angel's face at the front of the pictures? No, that can't be it, but there was only one way to find out! "What else did the old woman say?" I was hoping to turn the conversation to my advantage but Mum was a champion at this game.

"Nice try young man. Well, whatever you've done you'd better get back around there and tell her you're sorry before I get the whacker out."

The whacker was Mum's pet name for her fish slice that doubled up as a good whacking weapon when Sean and I had pushed our luck too far. Take it from someone who knows, it hurts...a lot! "Sorry Mum," I said, just in case I had done something, always best to cover all your bases!

"Don't be late for supper, it's your dad's favourite and he's working overtime."

"Got it." I left Mum to her telly and raced back around to Missus Maize's house and knocked on the door.

"Come in James." As I walked in the smell of chip fat and fried eggs hit me straight in the face and my stomach rumbled. "Come through here and have your lunch before you cut the grass." I took my place at the table and Missus Maize put a giant plateful of eggs and chips in front of me, along with a half-empty bottle of tomato sauce; but not just any sauce, it was Heinz Ketchup! "I heard you young 'uns like that. Never eat it myself."

"So why the half empty bottle?"

"Half empty?" She looked at me for a response as I stuffed runny fried egg into my mouth.

I picked the bottle up and showed her, "Oh I get it James; I just thought it was half full."

"Same thing," I spluttered as I tried to fit in a chip with the egg.

"Perhaps," she looked at me as if I were Mr Poe eating his millet. "Hungry are you? You'll want to slow down to a gentle gallop or you'll get the hiccups."

I smiled as the grease and sauce dripped down my chin, "Mum says I'm a growing boy."

"Ah yes, your mum, did you apologise?"

"I did."

"And you know why you apologised?"

"Because I didn't tell her I was going to be here?"

"Perhaps." I was beginning to think that was her favourite word but she added, "Perhaps not."

I shook my head and sat back with my hands on my full tummy, "Thanks Missus Maize that was loverly."

"As loverly as the girl in the picture?"

She caught me off guard. "What girl? I never looked at anyone."

"Really, you never put that picture in front on purpose?"

"No ways," I lied, "I don't like girls, yuck!"

"Good. Then it's time for work." I knew she didn't believe me but I was glad to get away from the subject. "Mower's in the shed, none of your fancy electric ones mind you; this one needs a bit of muscle. You up to it?"

I held up my cast and showed her where I'd broken the plaster at the wrist and said, "No problem." As I walked down the hallway I could feel Missus Maize's stare burning a hole in the back of my head, but the urge to look into the front room and see the picture overwhelmed me, so I peeked.

"Thought you didn't like girls," she called out from the kitchen.

"I was checking on Mr Poe," I lied.

"Sure you were! Now get mowing or no story."

The mower was a monster. I dragged it out of the shed and into the sunshine. The machine was a dragon and I was a knight and I was going to slay the beast whether it liked it or not. I still had Dad's tools so I grabbed the sliding spanner and went to work. It wasn't long before I had the thing in pieces and cleaned up, but that was the easy part. I gave it a good stare, growled my best growl and got on with putting it back together. After an hour of pushing, scraping, scouring and a fair share of swear words, I finally had the blades back in place and oiled up, ready to go. Lucky for me and my aching arm the garden was small.

"Okay beastie, time to earn your keep." I grabbed the handle bars and pushed with all my might but the thing was nearly as tall as me and my feet slipped on the grass and I fell. That just pissed me off. I stood up, gave it a good kick and tried again. It gave up and moved, and once I got a good rhythm going it wasn't so bad as the blades chewed up the grass and spat it back out over my trainers.

Every now and again I caught sight of Missus Maize watching me from the house, and after another hour of sweat and toil I had the job done and the beast was back in its cage. Missus Maize walked around tutting and prodding at some clumps I'd missed with her foot. Every now and again she'd look up and shake her head. "Missed a bit there."

"Sorry Missus Maize." I looked down at my grass-stained trainers, hoping she wouldn't make me do it all over again.

"Missed some more there."

"Sorry."

After a thorough inspection she looked me up and down and said, "Pick up those crab apples and go put them in the skip," and went back into the house.

The tree was a mangy old thing that hadn't been looked after very well. The branches were all mangled and interwoven but it was the only thing to offer shelter from the heat. I used the bottom of my shirt as a make-do pouch, filled it up with mini-apples from off the floor and dumped them into the skip.

"All done?" she shouted from inside the house.

"All done."

The old woman came out with a fold-up picnic chair under one flabby arm and the book in the other. "Come and take this thing and then go to the kitchen and bring the tray out."

I unfolded the chair and left her to fit her massive frame into the fragile-looking seat. It groaned under her weight but held together. Thank God! I don't think I'm strong enough to pick Missus Maize up off the floor.

The smell of chip fat had been chased out of the kitchen by the freshness of the homemade lemonade sitting on the tray in two tall thin glasses. It took all my willpower not to take a swig. The tray wasn't heavy but the glasses were still wet and swam around on the varnished wood like ice hockey pucks.

I'm not sure how long it took me to make it back to the crab-apple tree but when I finally set the tray down on the grass Missus Maize was gently snoring under the shade of the tree. I coughed and she opened one eye, "Took your time young Fisher, been spying?"

"No."

"You never took a peek at the picture?"

"What picture?"

"Hmmm..." She crooked her finger and beckoned at me to come closer, "Never lie to me James Fisher, bird witches know a lie when they hear one."

"Sorry Missus Maize, I know the picture but I never looked, I swear."

"Very well," she sat upright and pulled her glasses from her pinny and opened the book. "Now where were we?"

"Dante was captured and imprisoned and he thinks he'll never see the beautiful Mercedes ever again!"

She raised an eyebrow at me and I cowered as a vision of the black and white picture of my Mercedes crossed my mind. My Mercedes, who may as well be a million miles away from me. I ignored the stare and lay back on the freshly cut grass and listened to her smoky old voice. As I closed my eyes, I imagined that I was Dante and the girl in the picture was Mercedes. When I realised that she had forsaken me and married another, a lump formed in the back of my throat and I knew Dante's pain and need for revenge. I have no idea how long she read for but when she stopped I sat bolt upright and looked about. "What happened? Why did you stop?"

"Because it's time."

"Time for what? It's still early; I only have to be home at six."

"Then best you take a look at the clock young Fisher."

My stomach knotted as I ran to the window and checked the time on the kitchen clock; true to form she was right and the clock read five to six. For some reason, I kissed Missus Maize on the cheek, thanked her for the food, collected Dad's tools and ran home to find him just walking into the garden from work.

"Hi Dad, how was work?" I asked, out of breath.

"Work's work son. I can smell Mum's cooking sprouts again, yuck."

I poked him in the ribs, "Shush Dad, she thinks they're your favourite!"

"One time I said I liked them and that was Christmas and I was trying to be nice. Now I have to suffer them every time Mum thinks I need a treat. Life is just unfair Son." He laughed as I put the tools back in the shed and as he passed the heavy outside door he picked me up and carried me into the house. We both raced upstairs to get away from the pong of the sprouts, Dad headed into the bathroom to shower and I ran and jumped on my bed and tried as hard as I could to remember exactly what my Mercedes looked like.

Six

Days flew past and many things changed in my life, the first and most frightening was my very first erection. It was close to midnight on the Wednesday night and I was dreaming of a scenario where my black and white Mercedes and I met on a beach and had a picnic. At first, I'd started to question my daydreams about her, but as the days rolled on they became part of everyday life as well as in my dreams. The problem is that this time the blood that was normally in my head made its way south and I thought that my penis was going to explode.

After a very uncomfortable conversation with Mum I was sat down with Dad who told me _The Story_ , and I thanked God that I was a normal boy with normal feelings and what dad called _urges_. The trouble was that the urges had a mind of their own and I had more than one urge at all the wrong times for no reason whatsoever! I thought about speaking to Sean, he must have had these urges long before me, but the more I thought about it the more the idea seemed like a very bad one. I was moving up to senior school at the end of the holiday and there was a chance that I could lose the nickname that had followed me around junior school, I really didn't want the new one to become something relating to urges.

The second thing that happened was the end of _The Count of Monte Christo_ and the beginning of _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_. Of course I knew of Sherlock Homes and Doctor Watson, every kid does, but I had never read anything and I was hooked after the first paragraph.

But with the good came the bad and the day of the court case loomed large. Even though I'd made up my mind to go I hadn't told Mum and Dad; I didn't want them to come with me. When I broached the subject in between chapters with Missus Maize under the crab apple tree she didn't speak for a long time. I'd almost given up on getting an answer when she said, "Tell your mum and dad that I'll take you and if they agree, be here at seven thirty tomorrow and wear your best clothes. And for heaven's sake put a comb through that hayloft you call hair."

When I told Mum and Dad they were concerned, but when I explained about Missus Maize's offer it seemed to calm them down enough to listen to my reasoning. After an hour of to and fro they agreed to let me go with the old lady, on the condition that Dad picked both of us up when it was all over.

And so, the die was cast and at seven thirty the next morning I stood outside Missus Maize's shack in my Sunday best, shuffling nervously from one foot to another like Mr Poe on his perch. "C'mon let's go," I said under my breath as the old lady opened the door and waved me in. "We need to get moving Missus Maize, we have to be there at ten."

She looked at the clock in the kitchen, "Good then we have time for tea." She filled the kettle as I sat in silence. Butterflies were going around in my stomach and I started wishing Dad was here and not the old woman in the pinny. "Nervous Mister Fisher?"

"I am, to be honest."

"That nice lady copper didn't come and take you through what was going to happen today?"

"Yeah, she did."

"So, what's the problem?"

"I dunno, just nerves I guess. I'll be okay."

"I know you will James." She patted me on the head and looked at her hand, "What the hell is this gloop?"

"It's called hair gel. Couldn't get my hair to not stand up so I pinched some of Mum's stuff."

She sniffed her fingers and looked disgusted, "Feels like glue to me and smells like a chemistry set. And you put this crap on your hair?"

"It's fashion Missus Maize."

"Fashion you say? Well thank the Lord I'm just an old Bird Witch, eh?"

I smiled as she made the tea and put it on the tray. "Well come on," she said and walked down the hallway towards the front room. I hadn't been in there since I first saw the picture of Mercedes and I was all fingers and thumbs as I followed her. Maybe she'd put the picture at the back or maybe she'd moved it somewhere else in the house? I didn't know but my heart was beating fast and I felt an urge coming on. I turned around and headed out the back, "I'm just going to the loo, I won't be long."

"Take your time...Please." I heard her laugh.

After several embarrassing moments and a few handfuls of cold water I was finally back to normal and pulled my pants back up.

Missus Maize was waiting for me with a cup of tea and a smile, "Stomach trouble?"

"Just nerves." I looked toward the picture but the old woman had placed herself between me and the cabinet where Mercedes either was or wasn't, and it was killing me not knowing.

"Looking for something?"

"No."

"Really, you wouldn't lie to an old woman? Us witches can tell you know."

"No," I lied again.

She looked down at her hand and beneath it was a photo frame, face down, "Remember this?"

"No."

"James, I'm disappointed in you."

"Sorry Missus Maize but it could be any picture."

"But it could be that picture you chose to place in the middle of the rest for everyone else to see." She was teasing me but there wasn't a sign of it on her face, no smile or frown and I found myself not knowing what to do or say. "Let's say that it is that picture, answer me a question and I'll let you see it. Deal?" I nodded. "Why did you choose this one?"

"I don't know."

"James! Don't lie, it really doesn't suit you."

"She's just so pretty, I've never seen anyone like her." I said it so fast I'm not even sure she heard me correctly as she eyed me up and down.

"And if I told you that it was a picture of me as a girl?"

"Oh..." I went cold, had I been dreaming of Missus Maize these last few nights? Even worse, was I having urges about her?

I didn't know where to look and as I attempted to speak she smiled, "Well it isn't, it's a picture of my granddaughter. You want to know her name?" She pushed the photo to me and I turned it over gently.

"Mercedes." I spoke under my breath until I realised what I'd said and I looked up in fright.

"No, not Mercedes, but that would have been a good choice. Her name is Daisy, Daisy Maize."

The name sounded like a cool breeze feels as it caresses my face on a hot summer's day and smelt like candy floss and toffee apples. She was as beautiful as I remembered from the first time our eyes had met.

"I've got some colour pictures around here somewhere if you'd like to see them." I shook my head, she was perfect and not even colour could improve on just how perfect she was. "It's just a school picture from last year James, honestly I have better ones." I shook my head again. Missus Maize laughed, "Okay mister give it back." I reluctantly handed it over, but when Missus Maize stood it up on the table so I could look at it as much I like, I was satisfied enough to tear my eyes away and back to the old lady. "So, here's the dealio, whenever you get a touch of those nerves of yours I want you to imagine that you're doing this because old Furmidge did what he did to you, to her." I felt a fire in my belly and glared at her, "Slow down there Neddy, use that fire in your gut but use it right. No getting all high and mighty. Tell the judge what happened and answer any questions the wigs ask you, got it? Then look that boy in the eye and walk away. Right?"

I nodded and gritted my teeth, "Dealio."

***

Missus Maize's shack had no street address so we had to wait for the taxi at the bus stop on Furze Lane, the sun was still shining and I felt hot and bothered standing there in my best clothes. The number thirteen came and went and I watched the local people get off, including spit girl who just looked at me and Missus Maize and walked off without speaking. It was another five minutes before a beige Austin Maxi turned the corner of Locksway Road and stopped in front of us, "Taxi for Maize."

"That's Missus Maize to you!" the old woman said, irritated at the driver's demeanour.

"Yeah sorry luv."

"I hope you're sorry for being late as well." I climbed in the back seat and Missus Maize squeezed in beside me, "Portsmouth City Courts please."

The cabbie started the ticker and I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and thought of Daisy in the hands of Furmidge. I was fuming by the time the cab stopped and we both climbed out and stood in front of the concrete building decorated with the city crest. I expected a lot more glamour but the building was much like the mood of everyone around us. Even though it was hot I felt a chill run up my back.

"You okay James?" I nodded and tried to smile but the nerves were getting the better of me and my lips snagged on my dry teeth, my smile turned into a grimace. "Want to take a walk around? We have a few minutes."

"Nah, let's get this over and done with." I manned up and walked into the courthouse. It didn't take us long to find the right room and as we waited outside I watched the second hand of the massive wall clock tick its way around the face and I wondered what Furmidge was feeling. "Get your mind back in the game Fisher," I said quietly to myself and felt Missus Maize's hand reach for mine. "You can do this! This is for Daisy and all the other kids that he could hurt."

"That's right James, do it for them." I looked into her eyes. "But most of all do it for you."

I nodded and we were called into the room and all eyes turned as we settled into our seats. I'd watched Crown Court on the telly but this was nothing like that. Before I knew it the bailiff called Missus Maize to the dock and my heart started racing. I knew she was first but the shock of it all happening now was tying my stomach in knots and my bladder was all of a sudden overfull. I looked around the room but all eyes were on Missus Maize as she told them what happened that day. I couldn't hear what she was saying as the noise of my heartbeat in my ears was deafening. Every fibre of my being wanted me to run out of the room and never look back but I felt frozen in my seat. The wigs finished with Missus Maize and the judge thanked her for her time and called for a five-minute break which made things even worse.

The old woman came and sat next to me, "Wasn't so bad, was it?"

By now I was terrified. "No," I lied.

"You know why the judge called for five minutes?"

"No."

"Because he's just a man and he needs a pee."

That just reminded me that my bladder was about to burst but I knew that if I left now I wouldn't come back and I squeezed as hard as I could and squirmed on the hard bench.

The judge came back in and the bailiff called me to the stand. We went through the motions and the judge thanked me for being there and told me to relax, which just made things worse. _Daisy Maize, Daisy Maize, Daisy Maize_ , I thought to myself over and over until the wig asked me to tell them what happened the day of the attack. Not once had I looked at Furmidge, but it was time. My eyes met his and I saw he was afraid. I knew we were on even ground for the first time.

I picked up the glass of water in front of me, took a deep swig and told the court what happened. When I'd finished speaking the judge asked if there were any questions from the wigs and both said no. He then asked Furmidge if he wanted to say anything but his wig declined for him and the judge thanked me for my time and told me I could go, but I didn't move and I held Furmidge's stare. I'd stood up to the bully for me and for all the other kids but it felt like an empty win, there had to be more.

"Thank you Mr Fisher," the judge tried again and Furmidge broke my stare and looked down toward his lap. "Mr Fisher is everything alright?" I nodded still staring at the disgraced boy. "Then unless you have any more to add you may go."

I looked at the judge and then back at Furmidge who was looking back toward me and I said, "Quoth the Raven, Nevermore!" I left the dock and didn't look back as I walked past Missus Maize. She stood and walked proudly at my side until we got outside.

"Well that was a little more dramatic than I was expecting!"

"Sorry Missus Maize, it just had to be said."

"I guess it did James, you did well. Fancy giving an old witch a hand with her shopping? There's a burger and milkshake in it for you."

"Dealio."

Seven

The summer was nearly over, I'd spent every day at Missus Maize's shack working on bits and pieces and every night I found myself in the arms of Daisy Maize and my world was perfect. The cast was now gone and I was shocked at how thin my arm looked. It took me a while to be able to use it without thinking I would break it again.

Mrs Maize lived up to her end of the bargain and I'd been introduced to Charles Dickens' _Oliver Twist_ , John Steinbeck's _Of Mice and Men_ , Jules Verne's _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_ and we were on the last few chapters of Mary Shelley's _Frankenstein_ , which had been my personal favourite so far, when Missus Maize put the book down and I sat up from lying on the grass. "Mister Fisher, we have one more week until you go back to school and by this time tomorrow we will be finished with the monster and the mad professor, and only one book will be left to read. I want you to choose that book from my collection, but be warned. There are many to choose from and this will be the last one until your Christmas break, well that is if you come back of course."

"My choice?"

"Yeah, I think you deserve it. You've come a long way and it's only right you choose the next fork in your road."

I remembered the choice I'd made to go toward the bridge that led to my accident. I wasn't always the best at making choices but at least this was a harmless one to make. Then my brain kicked into gear, this could be the most important one ever. What if I chose the wrong book? What if I missed something, a lesson, a fable or something I could use going into senior school? My heart began to race again. The old woman looked at me with sad eyes, "What's wrong? Don't you want another story?"

"I do, but what if I choose wrong?"

"There is no wrong choice."

"But what if I choose something that doesn't help me in senior school?"

"Ah, so this is about the new school is it, those nerves of yours coming back again?"

"Sort of, I'll be going to the same school as spit girl and the others, they're in their last year and I'm only in my first."

"I wouldn't worry about it James, word would have got out about what happened in court and I'm betting they'll leave you alone. I thought you said that one boy told you it was all over?"

"Yeah but that spit girl is a loose cannon."

"The mighty James Fisher; afraid of a girl?"

"No! But, well maybe, that one is a monster, just without the scars and a Professor Frankenstein to back her up."

"Well tomorrow we'll see how that turns out for both of them, but no spoilers." She smiled down at me, "Listen James you can't let what hasn't happened yet live free in your mind. Get it out, most people live their lives wondering what might happen instead of making things happen, and that's what's wrong with the bloody world if you ask me!"

"I'll try."

"So, what's the name of this school then?"

"Great Sultarns."

"Ah the new one...interesting."

"I was hoping to go to one of the schools that have a running team but we can't afford it, and I'm stuck."

"Fate's a funny thing young man and maybe you have to go to Sultarns for a reason."

"Well I can't think of a single one Missus Maize."

"I can...but that's for another time. Go to the bookshelf and take your time looking for the right book. When we're done with this," she waved the book in the air, "you can go and bring me your choice, which you can decide on now. Your selection will determine your last chore."

"I don't get it Missus Maize."

"Nothing to get, I'm just an old witch remember. Now off you go and take your time!"

I shook my head and walked back into the shack through the kitchen door, down the hallway and into the front room where Daisy watched me run my finger over the spines of the books. I was trying to get a feel of what might be interesting but they all felt as important as the next one. I pulled up a chair and sat in front of the bookcase pondering each one in turn.

I decided to start with the authors I knew, Dickens' _Bleak House_ , no, sounds way too boring. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's _The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_ , maybe, maybe not. Steinbeck's _The Grapes of Wrath_ , nah doesn't sound right. Ann Rand's _Atlas Shrugged_ , definitely not! George Orwell's _1984_ , sounds promising but I hate having to remember dates, so nah. Several books by William Shakespeare were in the middle of the row but none of them spoke to me and I was losing heart. Maybe I should close my eyes and just pick. I tried it but chose Steinbeck's _Of Mice and Men_ so I slotted it back and tried again. _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_. The universe was trying to force me to make a conscious decision. I took a deep breath and walked my fingers along the tops of the remaining books until I spotted something that looked interesting. It was another George Orwell book; this one was called _Animal Farm_. I pulled it clear of the case and held in lovingly in my hands and read the notes on the dust cover. I could hear Missus Maize's voice in my mind saying don't judge a book by its cover.

I remembered her taking the Poe book and letting the pages just open on their own, so I tried the same thing. I held the book vertically on my lap, closed my eyes and let go. I looked down to the page number, 112, nothing out of the ordinary there so I scanned the page and my eyes were drawn to some words printed in capitals that read: "ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL, BUT SOME ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS." I slammed the book shut and dust shot upward into my face. What the hell did that mean?

Book in hand I rushed to the garden where Missus Maize was waiting. "Missus Maize," I called as I got closer to the old woman, but she held up her hand to silence me and as I skidded to a halt in front of her she extended her hand. "Missus Maize..." I tried again, but one look told me I needed to stay quiet. She looked at the title and I thought I saw a slight grin on her face.

"You weren't supposed to bring the book now..." She looked me up and down and asked, "You opened it?"

"I did. I wanted to get a feel for it."

"Oh really, and what did you feel James Fisher?"

I thought about my answer, "Confused, why are..?"

"Stop right there, mister. What do we know about stories?"

"That there is a start, a middle and an end," she'd told me this a hundred times, "and that you have to read them in the right order."

"Good, and why?"

"To respect the author and not spoil the story."

"Correct."

I knew there was no way I was going to be allowed to ask my question about the animals but I tried anyway, "Buy why are some...?"

"James Fisher!"

"Sorry."

"And so you should be young man! Now, we had a deal so go put it back." She held out the book and I took hold but as I tried to pull away she held it fast. "Before you do take a look at the second page then get out of here and sleep on it like I asked."

I nodded as she let go and I made my way back into the shack, down the semi-dark hallway and into the room where Daisy still waited for me with her beautiful smile. "So what's so important about the second page?" I said, opening the book, and as I read I grinned. The writing was in red pen and was encased in a heart shaped border and it said, _To my magical Grandmother, I love you always, Daisy xxx_. And as I read it over and over again thinking that she had written it to me I fell deeper and deeper in love with the black and white picture of my perfect girl.

***

I woke up the next morning tired and a little irritated, it had taken me an age to fall asleep and I hated the feeling of having a bunch of cotton wool for a brain. I jumped through a shower, dressed in my cutoffs and an old shirt and walked quietly down the stairs. It was Sunday and there was an unwritten rule that no one woke anyone else up on a Sunday, or else. I grabbed an apple and headed around to Missus Maize's house with questions, but the old woman was a master at deciphering my expressions. She simply pointed towards the old mower and wandered back into the house. It was exactly what I needed and the more I pushed the rusty old beast around, the more I felt alive and awake, and by the time she brought me a cup of tea I was back to my normal jovial mood.

I tried to broach the subject of the animals again, but instead she pulled out Mary Shelley's masterpiece and started to read. It didn't take long before the questions in my head were replaced by visions of the monster being hunted by the angry villagers. By the time she flipped over the last page and said, "The end," I felt emotionally drained.

"So young James, we have three days until you go off to your new school. _Animal Farm_ is a short story but...as you've found out it leaves one with many questions and that is the reason Orwell wrote it. The question you've been wanting to ask me is answered very early in the book so there is no reason to answer it for you, I'll let George do that but...you're not a stupid boy, like that Furmidge idiot, so I want you to use your imagination and don't ask me why animals can talk, okay?"

"No problem Missus Maize. When can we get started?"

"As soon as the gutters are cleaned out. Use the ladder and the hose pipe and for the love of God don't fall please. Your parents would kill me if you hurt yourself."

I laughed, "It'll take more than a ladder to take me down."

"Sure," she muttered to herself as she took the tea tray back to the shack.

I pulled the ladder out of the shed and, much like everything else that Missus Maize owned, it was broken in places and the hinges were rusty and squealed as I opened the tent-shaped contraption. I shook my head and did the best I could to fix the thing up before I turned the tap on and climbed up to wash the gutters clean of all the winter dirt and detritus that mixed with the cobwebs of long dead spiders. It really was a thankless task and I got filthy dirty and soaking wet in the process. While I cleaned the left-hand side of the roof I started humming Bohemian Rhapsody to myself. By the time I had almost finished I was singing at the top of my voice. As I ended the song and the last of the gutters I shouted, "Ta Da!" and looked down into the quizzical face of Missus Maize.

"What on earth was that noise all about?"

I laughed and threw the hosepipe to the ground behind me, "It's a pop song by Queen, don't you think it's cool?"

"No, it sounds like a bag of cats about to be thrown into the locks."

"Ah c'mon Missus Maize, lighten up and feel the noise."

"Do what to the what? Young man, all that screaming and shouting is horrible and I can feel the noise and it hurts! Do you even know who Scaramouch was? Or Galileo?" I shook my head. "Figaro?" I shook my head again. "Dear oh dear, and can you do a fandango?"

I shrugged, "I dunno, maybe. What is it?" I'd made my way back to terra firma and pulled my shirt over my head to squeeze the water out.

"It's a dance, do you dance? Classically mind you, not your head banging thing." She didn't wait for an answer, "Tidy up, I have something else to show you."

Everything Missus Maize had shown me so far was fascinating and I was excited to see yet another wonder that she kept hidden around the old shack. I tidied the hose away and propped the ladder back up in the shed and went to find Missus Maize. She was sitting in the front room looking at the picture of Daisy, "About time young Mister Fisher. Do you know what that is?" She pointed to an old phonograph that sat on a pedestal in the corner of the room next to Mr Poe.

"Record player?"

"Yes, a very old one. Plug it in and bring me that box underneath Mr Poe's perch, and be sure to put your hands underneath it in case they fall out."

I grabbed the plug and pulled a little too hard, the pedestal rocked and my heart jumped into my throat. I slowed down and held the thing in place hoping to God that I hadn't done any damage. I looked over to the old woman but she was still looking at Daisy and didn't seem to notice. I plugged the old thing in and carefully placed the box in front of Missus Maize.

"Thank you, James, now that noise you were screaming outside, does it have a name?"

"I guess it's called rock."

"Ah, it may surprise you to know that I too have rock records but I think we should start with something a little more relaxing." She pawed through the contents of the box and pulled out an old record and told me to place it on the turntable on side two, song one.

I fumbled with the contraption and then lifted the stylus and slowly placed it on the black record. What I heard was the most wonderful song I've ever listened to and I just stared at the grooves in the record as they travelled in an ever-decreasing circle towards the sticker in the middle. When it finished I looked at Missus Maize who was holding out her hand for the record. "Can we listen to that again?"

"And wear it out?" She smiled and nodded, "Of course but I have others."

I smiled and quickly reset the stylus to song one and sat on the floor as Sam Cooke sang _Summertime_ over and over again. When I looked back to Missus Maize I realised she must have gotten bored and wandered off. I took the record off and went back to the box and slipped it into the sleeve. I felt so relaxed, the words spoke to me and it was the perfect song for what the summer of '76 meant to me. Only meeting Daisy could make the whole holiday worth it, but as I looked up to see her picture I noticed that Missus Maize had left another record with two songs underlined on the sleeve. I hurried over to the phonogram and placed the vinyl onto the turntable and found the right song which was called _Cupid_ , and as Sam's voice played with my emotions I laughed and danced along with the music. I couldn't wait to hear the next one and decided to go and sit back at the table as Sam sang _What a Wonderful World_. As his voice floated in the air and filled my soul with happiness I stared into the eyes of Daisy Maize.

"Are you ready to find out why all animals are equal?" the old lady said from the doorway.

I nearly jumped out of the seat and put the picture down as fast as possible, "You scared me."

"You keep staring at that picture and you're going to start to scare me."

"Sorry Missus Maize."

"Its fine James, I'm just pulling your leg. Although if you ever meet Daisy, which is more likely than you'd think, you might just change your mind."

"What does that mean?" I said a little aggressively, surely Daisy was an angel?

The old woman smiled that smile that meant she wasn't going to give me an answer and told me to meet her under the crab apple tree. I tidied the room and with one more look at Daisy I went to meet her.

By the time we'd gotten through chapters one to three I was totally for the animals and cheered as they chased the bad farmer from their newly liberated land and took control, but I had a bad feeling that things weren't going to stay the same. She closed the book and looked at me expectantly. "I don't trust those pigs!" I blurted.

"Ah, and why's that?"

"I dunno, I just don't trust them. They're sneaky and I bet it was them that stole the milk for themselves."

She raised her eyebrows at me, "But what do you think that Orwell was trying to say?"

I thought for a while, "Well I guess that he was saying that if you treat animals badly that they will one day rise up and revolt."

"Correct, well done James, that's exactly what he was saying. Only he wasn't talking about animals, he was using them as an allegory..."

"A what?" I butted in.

"An allegory, a story about something to illustrate a hidden meaning. This one is a political allegory about Russia, or what's now known as The Soviet Union. But it could be about a hundred different things that have happened; it's all up to your interpretation. If you think about it, you were the pig to Furmidge's farmer."

That got me to thinking of things in a different way but I had a feeling that there was more, "Missus Maize every time we've got this far into a book I think one thing and by the time we've finished I've changed my mind a few times and I'm guessing this one isn't any different?"

"Well this book is a little different from the others James, but I want you to explore its meaning yourself. When we finished the other books they were done, and when all the questions were answered we could put it back on the shelf and the story was finished. This one has a way of coming back to your mind time after time as you go through your life, and if you can learn the lessons learned by the animals you may find some things in life are easier...or harder," she added with a sad voice.

"Not all lessons are easy are they Missus Maize?"

"No James they most certainly are not. Now, it's time to go home, your mum tells me she's taking you shopping tomorrow for a new uniform so I'll see you on Tuesday and we'll finish the story and have time to talk about what we've learned."

I was devastated, I wanted to know why all animals are equal but some are more equal than others. I know it was probably those shitty pigs, but there was a chance I was wrong, plus I wanted to explore that old cardboard box of records! "But I can finish with Mum in the morning and come here in the afternoon."

"James, this old witch also has things to do tomorrow."

"Then I can help!"

"Not with this. Now skedaddle out of here and I'll see you on Tuesday."

"But..."

"But me no buts Mister Fisher."

I was totally frustrated and I knew she was hiding something but I left her sitting in the garden under the tree flicking through the pages of _Animal Farm_.

Eight

As Mum and I sat on the top deck on the number thirteen bus that slowly weaved its way around Mooringsway and along the Eastern Road toward Baffin's Pond I felt nervous for no reason. Perhaps it was the thought that summer was nearly over and I'd have to face a new year at school and all the challenges that it would most definitely bring, or perhaps it was something else. I just couldn't put my finger on it. The bus lurched to a stop and Mum poked me in the leg and pointed out of the window, smiling. I cringed, we'd stopped right outside Great Sultarns School and as I looked out of the window my anxiety began to kick in. It looked ominous and threatening, like a sleeping grey beast just waiting for all the first years to come and be gobbled up into its depths, never to be seen again. "Do I really have to go Mum?"

Mum looked at me and shook her head, "What do you think James? That I'd be the only parent in the crescent to have children with no education? No way Jose! If Sean can survive then so can you."

"Survive!"

"Don't be so dramatic, it's just a school. All the first years will be feeling the same. Come Thursday you'll be a bag of nerves and by Saturday you'll be over it." She was probably right but that left Thursday and Friday where anything could happen!

The bus pulled away from the stop that I would have to use every day and trundled along the narrow street toward the town centre, where Mum pulled me around countless shops, making me try on uniforms that I had absolutely no interest in wearing. Worst of all was a bloody tie. I'd never even owned a tie let alone be able to tie one into any sort of knot. Okay, I wasn't the trendiest of kids and I didn't go in for all that fashion stuff that most of the crescent kids did, but even I drew a line at grey trousers, a white shirt and a TIE! Luckily there was no blazer to make things even worse.

After what seemed like days instead of hours we climbed back onto another double decker to take us home. Mum found one empty seat and plonked herself down and made me stand near her, holding onto the steel bar of the seat back for dear life. After five stops the old man next to her got off and I got to sit. I sighed as I looked out of the window and as the grey monstrous-looking school came back into view and I cringed and looked down into the shopping bag where the tie lay on top of the other clothes, staring back at me with an evil grin. I angrily closed the bag and felt the bus shudder as it made its way along the tarmac route toward home. Apart from the day I fell through the roof it had been the worst part of the holiday and as soon as we got home I changed into my cutoffs and headed out.

There wasn't much going on so I sat on the small wall outside of the Oyster House pub and watched Mister Gill from number twenty-six stumble out of the door and wander off toward the crescent, swearing at no one as he went. Sean and his mates headed off to the sports fields kicking an old leather football around and I thought about tagging along, but I just wasn't in the mood. All I wanted to do was to go around to see the Bird Witch and stare at the picture of Daisy Maize, but I guess the old woman didn't have time for me.

I skulked along the path that led to the locks, kicking at stones as I dragged my feet, I passed a young couple walking hand in hand in the other direction. I looked away embarrassed as the boy caught me staring at his girlfriend.

I quickly hurried on until I came to the fork in the path. Once again, I had the choice of the slipway to the waterfront or the bridge. I kidded myself that just because I wasn't allowed around Missus Maize's house there was no reason I couldn't stroll past just to make sure everything was okay. There were still hooligans in the crescent and you couldn't be too careful. I could protect her if needs be.

I hopped onto the bridge and looked at the water streaming into the old canal from Langstone Harbour, took in a lungful of salty air and walked slowly off the other side and down onto the shoreline of tiny broken shells and stones. I strolled as casually as I could in the direction of the shack, whistling and trying to look as normal as possible. As the front door came into view I noticed it was open and there was movement inside, my heart leapt, she was home and we could carry on with _Animal Farm_ , but as I started to climb over the small grey wall I heard voices and ducked behind it instead.

I peeked over and saw Missus Maize waddle out of the door followed by a young girl with blonde hair. I dropped down onto the shale and tried to stop my heart from escaping from my chest, it was Daisy Maize! She had blonde hair! And jeans! And a pink t-shirt! Oh my God, it's her, Daisy Maize! I heard a noise from the other side of the wall and froze, not knowing whether to run away or just stand up and say hi.

"Gran says to go home, your mum's looking for you."

I felt my eyes widen in terror as her voice washed over me but I didn't have the courage to turn around and look her in the face, instead I did what all men do in this sort of situation, I put my head down and ran for home as fast as my legs would carry me, without looking back once. For the second time that day I was devastated! And today was now officially the worst day of my holiday. I climbed onto the top of the garage roof outside of my house and lay flat on my back so no one could see me. I stared up into the sky trying to justify why I ran away but came up extremely empty, so I covered my face with my hands and banged the back of my head on the warm garage roof, what an idiot!

***

Missus Maize was waiting for me on her doorstep when I turned up with my tail between my legs the next day and pointed to a pot of paint, some rags, a bottle of turpentine, a paintbrush and then to the windowsills. "And be quick about it Mister Fisher, we have more to discuss than just pigs today." She did the eyebrow raise that had become her trademark and went back into the shack. I was thankful to have gotten off so lightly and took to my task as relief flooded through my body. I thought she would just tell me to go home and that she never wanted to see me again for embarrassing her in front of her granddaughter, but luckily, I was wrong and things seemed back to normal. Well I hoped anyway.

It took me until lunchtime to finish and clean myself up with the turps, and as I waited under the crab apple tree my thoughts went to how I had messed up my one and only chance to speak to Daisy Maize, and my mood darkened. Missus Maize brought the tea and a plateful of cookies over and sat down on the bench, "So how was your shopping trip?"

I mumbled, "Okay," as biscuit crumbs flew out of my mouth and as I tried to breathe them back in I choked and had a coughing fit.

"Dear oh dear, the cool and calm Mister Fisher seems to have tied himself up in knots. What's on your mind young man?"

I looked her in the eye, "I'm sorry Missus Maize."

"For what? Did you do something wrong?"

"For yesterday, I'm sorry."

"I still don't get why you're apologising. You were just walking along the shoreline looking for driftwood, weren't you? You weren't spying on me or anything."

I gritted my teeth and decided to tell the truth, "I kinda was, I was hoping you'd finished whatever you were doing and we could read for a while."

"And..."

"And I got it all wrong and ran away like a coward. Not my best moment."

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"So, if you know Daisy is visiting and I tell you not to come around will you stay at home and try not to come and see her?"

"I'll try." I lowered my head in shame but at least I was being honest about it.

"Good answer Mister Fisher. Now tell me what would you do if you came face to face with her? Run away or say hello?"

I was now embarrassed beyond belief and shook my head as I stared at my flip flops, "I don't know. She probably thinks I'm an idiot."

"I doubt it, unless she saw your face?"

"No, I couldn't look."

"Good thing I told her you were one of the Ford boys then, eh?"

I looked up and there were those eyebrows arched at me again, "You did?"

"Yeah, I thought you could use a break, what with school coming up and all."

I'd forgotten about school and that Thursday was D-Day. Was I ready? No way in hell was I ready! "Well at least we have time to finish _Animal Farm_ and maybe paint the rest of the windows."

"No," she said flatly.

"No?"

She eyed me up and down, "You've done wonders to this old place James Fisher and I think you deserve the last day off. I'll tell you what, lets finish discussing _Animal Farm_ first thing in the morning and then you can do whatever you want, dealio?"

"Dealio!" I shouted back.

"So, what's it going to be then?"

I grinned and said, "I want to explore that box of old records of yours."

"Oh... good choice Mister Fisher, very good choice indeed!"

***

We sat under the old crab apple tree for hours the next morning talking about Orwell and _Animal Farm_ and Missus Maize carefully explained what it was all about. Most of my questions were about what it could possibly mean for me, but she just laughed and reiterated the fact that my generation wanted nothing more than to run through our lives without ever stopping to question what's happening now, instead of what could happen next week, month or year. When lunchtime came around she filled my belly with egg and chips and wouldn't let me get my hands on the record box before the washing up was done and I was clean from fat and tomato sauce.

"So, you ready to explore that old cardboard box of mine?" I smiled and nodded enthusiastically as I threw the paper towel I'd used to clean the table with, into the overflowing bin. "Empty that thing and meet me in the front room, and watch out for Mr Poe, he's in one of his moods today."

"Dealio!" I was looking forward to seeing what else was hiding beneath the dog-eared sleeves and dust bunnies, "My choice right?"

"Right you are, but I may just point you in the right direction sometimes," she said with a wink and trundled off toward the front room. I quickly emptied the bin, shoved a new bag roughly into the holder, slammed the lid down and made a beeline towards the front door where Daisy would be waiting for me with that smile that only an angel could own. "Hey slow down!" Missus Maize warned me as I slid along the wooden floor of the passageway. "You'll end up with splinters and you wouldn't want that with school tomorrow and all."

My heart sunk, I'd forgotten about that, "Okay."

"Not looking forward to it James? Why's that then? You're a clever boy and you like the classics, English should be a breeze."

She was right; school was always pretty easy for me. I liked the lessons but what I didn't like was that the teachers, much like the doctors in the hospital, were always prattling on in their secret teacher speak and I couldn't understand why they just didn't use ordinary words. I tried my best to explain why to Missus Maize and to her credit she nodded and listened to my gripe.

"It's because they have to speak about kids and they don't want the other kids to know about it. It's mostly them trying to keep their conversations private."

"I know but it just bugs me that they do it, it's like they don't trust us or something."

"Us or just you?"

The last time I heard a question like that it had been Doctor Goulding asking it. "Me I guess," I said honestly.

" _Hmmm_ , have you tried asking them what they're saying?"

"No, but if they're speaking in code for a reason I don't think asking will help."

"Well James, I know quite a bit about schools and teachers and of course you lot, so I can honestly tell you that none of you ever ask enough questions to get the right answers. Think about it, how many questions did you have about _Animal Farm_?"

"A few I guess."

"A few! I reckon it was over thirty, you asked until you were certain that you had all the answers you needed. From what you've told me you could speak to the doc the same way, so why is it you can't ask a teacher?"

"I dunno, they're teachers. They're just there to trick us and to get us into trouble."

"What! James do you really believe that?"

"Duncan Boothe said that his dad heard it from the headmaster that the teachers were all trained to do that."

"Oh, Duncan Boothe's dad said so, well it must be true then," she had the eyebrow raise thing going and even I know enough about sarcasm to see the comment for what it was.

"I guess it could be a lie."

"You guess? James Fisher, take it from this old witch that Duncan Boothe is talking crap. Teachers become teachers because they care about kids. True, some do get a little angry at times but they are mostly good people. But it does take all sorts, and some have short fuses. Those you have to be careful around, but if you keep your nose clean they'll leave you alone. And you tell Duncan Boothe that his dad talks rubbish and challenge him to prove what he's saying."

I'd never seen Missus Maize so mad, but as she sat there for a few seconds looking at her hands, I felt sorry for her. "It's okay Missus Maize, I knew he was talking crap, but he's bigger than me so who am I to argue?"

She took a deep breath, "Sorry James, kids like Mister Boothe give us teachers a bad name for nothing. I'm not going to tell you how to live your life young man, I can only advise you and you don't have to listen to an old witch, but here goes. Make your own mind up about everything, don't let others do it for you because most people talk a lot of crap and you have to sift through it to get to the truth. Mister Boothe for instance, is obviously a trouble maker that blames the teachers for his poor results. And I'm betting that his dad doesn't have the backbone to do anything about it. But that's just my opinion and I don't even know the boy."

"I think you're right, he's in the bottom ten in our class and he says it's because Missus Clay hates him. If you ask me it's the other way around, I think she's alright."

"And where are you positioned in your class?"

"Right in the middle, what do they call it?" I struggled for the word but it finally came to me, "Average."

"Only average, oh dear oh dear. You have much more promise than that James."

"It's okay Missus Maize I'm happy where I am. Being in the middle means no one expects too much of you and you're not seen as a dumb ass or a boffin creep. Kids like that get bullied and I'm happy to sit in the middle and be ignored."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard James Fisher. You happy to come fifth every time you race?"

"Are you mad? I'm a winner," but as I said it I knew she had me cornered and in trouble. Lucky for me she didn't push her advantage. I think she saw the change of expression on my face and knew I'd had my own change of heart.

"Fair enough, so bring it over here and let's take a look."

I grabbed the old box, making sure my hands were underneath in case anything fell out and plonked it down on the table. " _Summertime_ please." She rummaged through the sleeves and pulled out the record, I placed it on the turntable while I kept one eye on the mean old crow and watched the stylus jump across the black vinyl. I played it three times and when I was finished I took it back to Missus Maize, "Can I look?"

"Sure, if you can tell me what you're looking for?"

She had me stumped, "Um, I'm not sure. Is a record like a book?"

"You mean can you judge a record by its cover?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, it is."

"Damn...then I guess I'll leave the choice up to you."

"So, you can trust a teacher?"

"Oh, Missus Maize don't be like that, I never meant you."

She smiled and handed me a disk, I checked the label, "Billie Holiday, is he as good as Sam Cooke?" She pointed to the gramophone and shrugged in her maybe, maybe not style. As soon as I heard the voice I laughed and instantly knew my mistake.

"Sam Cooke sung the Blues, Lady Day, as she was known to her friends, sang Jazz. What did you think?"

"I think it's awesome."

"Better than that Queen stuff?"

"Oh, it's too close to call."

"Ah, so rock and roll is still a favourite then?"

"Yeah my brother has every record Elvis ever made and even though he's not really my cup of tea you can't argue with his talent."

"Oh, that's for sure! Try this one," she handed me a newer looking record.

"I know these guys, Mum loves the Beatles. _All the Lonely People_ is one of my faves." I placed the record on the phonograph and she told me to listen to side two, song one. As the music started playing I found myself air drumming along to _Long Tall Sally_.

"Now that's rock and roll! This is the Beatles' second album but they never wrote this, it's a cover version of a song by Little Richard. When do you think it was first recorded? Go on guess."

"I dunno, 1970?"

"1956, twenty years ago, and it was released on my birthday, April 7th. I've always loved this song. Reminds me of when I could cut a rug with husband number three, Jerry, he was a real rocker. Not like your greasy-haired hooligans today, he had class and he swept me off my feet."

I sat and smiled as the old lady reminisced about her youth, "He sounded like a cool dude."

"He was, and he used to sing for me." She reached into the box and passed me another record, "This was his favourite."

"Billie Holiday again?" I placed the record on the turntable and heard the familiar scratch as the needle found its groove.

"Yeah but this is an old song written way back in 1934 when I was...a lot younger."

As Lady Day sang _Blue Moon_ I closed my eyes and pictured myself serenading Daisy as Jerry had done to Missus Maize, and when it finished I was a fan. "Wow."

"Wow indeed. It's getting late James and it's a school night, so just one more, try this on for size."

"Ray Charles' _Georgia on my Mind_ , sounds cool." But it wasn't just cool, it really spoke to me and I loved it from the first Georgia to the last mind. "Thanks Missus Maize."

"For what?"

"For putting up with me for the whole summer and for sharing all your things with me. I'm going to miss you." I had a tear in my eye and a tremble in my bottom lip as I handed her the record.

She took it without saying anything and disappeared into the house; I sat near the table and tried to regain my composure. I shook away my sadness and my eyes settled on Daisy's picture and the reality of not coming to Missus Maize's house tomorrow really hit home. A sort of depression started to hatch in my mind, sending fears and doubts flooding through my whole body.

"Hey, get your butt out of that chair and stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

I jumped up and looked at the old woman; I could tell that she had also had a moment because her eyes were red from where she'd been rubbing them. I couldn't help myself and ran to hug her which she accepted gratefully. "Can I come and see you weekends?"

"You can come and see me whenever you like young man, now put Daisy back on the table and then get off home and have fun tomorrow."

I didn't even know that I had the photo in my right hand and felt a little embarrassed, "Oh sorry." I placed the photo back and made my way to the door. "Bye Missus Maize, see you soon."

"James before you go do you think you can do me a small favour?"

"Sure."

She handed me a package covered in brown greaseproof paper tied up with twine, "I need you to give this to her."

I turned the package over in my hands but there was no name or address, "Who?"

"Why Daisy, who else? She lives around Baffins Pond way with her mum and dad, she goes to Great Sultarns School as well, second year, so she'll be easy enough to find." My heart beat out of my chest and I just stood there looking at the package. "Well go on, get out of here, your mum will be waiting."

"Sure," I said, but I couldn't take my eyes off the most important package in the world.

Nine

The next morning was a sombre affair. I dressed for school, did what I could with the tie and played with Mum's porridge as I waited for the clock to tick around to leaving time. My bag was packed and the package for Daisy was safely stashed under my gym clothes. We never had gym on the first day of school but Mum always made us take it just in case. My bag was massive as I used it for my training kit during running season and a school bag when needed. To be honest I hated the thing with a passion. It sat next to my chair like a squatting frog waiting for a fly to accidently land on it. As I nudged it with my foot I could swear it grumbled at me. Next to my bag were my new school shoes and I'd put off wearing them. I knew when we bought them that they were going to hurt the hell out of my feet, and when I put them on they didn't let me down.

Sean sat down next to me without saying a word and played with his food for a while before punching me in the arm and pointing at the clock. It was time to go and with a smile from Mum I followed him, at a respectable distance, over to the bus stop in Furze Lane. Sean had given me strict instructions that if I so much as talked to him he would make my life hell once we got to the playground. There were about ten other kids waiting on the number thirteen all laughing and joking, and I slipped behind the shelter which was a see-through plastic contraption that was meant to keep the wind and rain off. The idiot council workers had placed it facing the wrong way and no matter where you stood the winter wind and rain always managed to soak you, but the sun was still shining as the hottest summer of the decade was coming to an end.

All too soon the bus arrived and we climbed on, paying the bus driver as we passed him by. All the boys climbed up the stairs to the top and most of the girls stayed downstairs. I was caught in a quandary and stood at the bottom of the stairs, not knowing where to go. One of the girls seemed to notice and pointed upward. I gulped and tried to smile but my teeth were so dry I couldn't manage one and so I fumbled a weak thumbs up. I climbed the stairs and sat on the front seat as the rest of the boys raced to the back. It was then that I smelled Aunty Sheila, but when I looked around for the tobacco smoking relative she wasn't there. Much to my dismay some of the boys were puffing away like mini steam trains, thankfully Sean wasn't one of them. I couldn't believe how bad it smelled and it made me feel sick to my stomach, which really didn't help my severe case of butterflies that were already swarming inside of me. I could feel the anxiety starting to build. _Daisy Maize, Daisy Maize, Daisy Maize_ , but then I remembered the brown paper package and started panicking about that. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the hum of the engine and bumps in the road.

The bus picked up several other kids from Mooringsway before it turned onto the Eastern Road and I felt a person jump into the chair next to me, "Listen up Spaz." Spaz was one of Sean's nicknames for me. "Check the notice board by the main entrance and see where your home class is, and then come and find me and stick by me until the bell rings. I'll show you where to go and then you're on your own, okay?" I nodded even though I was far from okay. "And if any of those idiots gives you a hard time I'll take care of it until you find your feet, got it?" Again, I just nodded. "One more thing Spaz, it's just school so try to chill out alright?"

He smiled at me and for the first time in years I actually felt like he wanted to be my brother and not just an annoyance that lived across the landing, "Thanks Sean."

"Cheer up Spaz, life starts at senior school and there are girls, in skirts, with boobs!"

I was shocked, but Sean just laughed and went back to his mates who were throwing a ball around, annoying an old man that had chosen the wrong time to sit on the top deck of the number thirteen.

The bus came to a halt outside of the school gate and I was the last to get off. To be honest I nearly stayed in my seat, but Sean was right, this was only school and I was damn well going to get to grips with it.

I marched through the gate and into the playground with my head held as high as I could and followed the queue of first years to the notice board. When it was my turn I ran my finger down the list of names until I found mine and saw I was in class 1T2, whatever the hell that meant, and that our home class was CL02, more code that I didn't get. I walked away through the mass of first years and went to find Sean who was kicking the ball around with his mates. "So?" he asked as I walked over.

"1T2 and CL02."

"Know what it means?"

"No idea."

"1 first year, T technical, 2 second class, that's your class name. CL02 is Chemistry Lab 02 which is on the second floor just by the main staircase."

"A lab?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, has gas outlets for Bunsen burners and everything you need for Chemistry or Biology. 02 is Mister Manning's lab. He's a tough nut, gives the Junior Cadets classes after school. He's ex-army so don't piss him off. He's alright but that pipe he smokes stinks! Now go away and be a first year!"

I trundled off and found a concrete platform to lean against and waited for the bell to ring for first period. As I stood there trying my hardest not to look like a complete doughnut, two girls walked past me, shot me a look and started to laugh, and my shakily erected cool demeanour was washed away in a matter of seconds as I slipped off and nearly fell flat on my ass.

"Hey Beep, what's up?"

What's up was our way of saying hi, when you're a twelve-year-old you also had your own language, and I finally realised why the teachers and the doctors had one too, "What's up Kinger?" It was a boy my age that was in my class but we never really spoke much before.

"Not much, just hanging around trying to figure shit out. So what class they have you in?"

"1T2, you?"

He nodded, "Same, I suppose they'll try and keep the junior schools together until we reach third year, well that's what my brother says and he's a fourth year this term. Wanna sit next to me?"

"Sure, but you have to do me a favour, stop calling me Beep, I'm hoping to ditch that name."

"Sounds good, what am I supposed to call you then?"

"Duh! James is my name."

"Yeah I know! But no one calls anyone by their real name do they? What do you want to be called?"

My nickname was finally in my own hands and was about to be changed into something really cool when spit girl honed into view and my world went to shit.

"So, the chicken finally come to our world Shaz," spit girl said to her mate who was twice the size of me and looked like an NWA wrestler, and not the cute one with the bikini top and tight shorts.

"Yeah," Shaz said taking a step toward me. "Want me to do him now?"

Spit girl glared at me, "Nah, old Grumbly's spying on us."

I looked over her shoulder and saw an oldish looking man in a checked jacket and grey pants staring in our direction.

"You got off lucky, punk," Shaz said threateningly.

Spit girl came closer, "Quoth the fucking Raven, heh?"

"Nevermore," I added before I could stop myself. A whistle sounded close by and I smiled as Grumbly told the girls to walk away, but spit girl stood her ground for a moment.

"I looked up that saying when Furmidge went down, dipstick. You should have thought twice about your authors."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well since you love the man so much I think I'm going to call you Headga." She laughed a shrill laugh that reminded me of Mr Poe.

"His name was Edgar."

"I don't give a fuck first year, I dub you Headga," she turned to her bully of a friend. "What do you think Shaz?"

"Ha ha ha yeah Headga, suits the little bone bag."

I took a step forward but Kinger pulled me back and the two girls walked away, taunting me and as they went.

"Forget about them James, they're a couple of slags."

"Yeah," I added without knowing what a slag was but it sounded right and that was good enough for me. The bell rang and kids streamed into the building, some of them knew where they were going but a lot of the younger ones looked around in total bewilderment. They weren't lucky to have a big brother to tell them what was going on. I told Kinger to follow me and made a run for the entrance closest to us where I knew the staircase was, and we climbed up to the second floor as bigger kids pushed and pulled us in every direction. It was organized chaos and I hated every second of it.

As we reached the landing a large group of people our age, most of whom I'd never seen before, were milling about outside of the two labs that were to become our home rooms. A teacher dressed in army fatigues walked out from the left-hand door and shouted at us to, in his words, _stop fart-assing around and get into his class_. I stood wide-eyed but Kinger pulled me along and we were lucky enough to be fairly close to the front of the queue as we filed in.

"Quick, let's get a get a seat in the middle."

I was all for the middle even though Missus Maize had said I was better than that. The middle sounded like the best place to be and we half-walked, half-ran to grab the two stools in the fourth row nearest the window. As I watched the rest of the kids walk into the room I eyed each in turn, trying to get the low down on them, and I knew that every single boy in the room was trying to do the same thing, except two who were much bigger than everyone else . They walked towards the back but Mister Manning had other ideas.

"Smith, Cattermole, middle row if you'd be so kind." Sarcasm dripped from every word. Neither boy said a word as they filed into the same row as us. Luckily we were separated by two other boys who had walked in just behind us. Mister Manning waited until the last straggler found the room and asked us all to settle down before reading the register one name at a time. Each of us had the chance to say "here," for the first of thousands of times that year. Kinger and I were fairly close to the top of the alphabetical list, but as my name was called out and I answered with as much bravado my in voice as possible I could feel all eyes were on me. I was relieved when Mister Manning called out Granger's name and the eyes moved on. When he finished he did the unthinkable, he asked each boy in turn from row one to the back row to stand up and introduce themselves and say something to the rest of the class. As each boy stood and mumbled something or other my anxiety rose and by the time it was my turn I was a bag of nerves. Kinger had finished with his short introduction and once again all eyes were on me, "Well stand up Mr Fisher."

I did as I was asked and opened my mouth to speak but I heard a voice behind me say, "Yeah Headga, get on with it!"

I spun around to face my new nemesis and I came eye to eye with a boy who looked nearly exactly the same as his sister, spit girl. "At least I don't look like a girl!" I said angrily and made my first enemy of the term. The classroom erupted in laughter and spit boy, as I dubbed him, sat stewing on his chair. I waited for the room to quieten down and said something about running and Sam Cooke records before nearly collapsing onto my stool as the boy directly behind me stood up and said his bit. When it was spit boy's chance to speak he said something about liking drawing and sat back down as quickly as possible. By the time the last boy spoke I was bored off my rocker, Mister Manning handed out our calendar that told us what lessons we had and where and who the teachers were. It really didn't mean much to me but I heard Kinger sigh. "What's up?" I asked.

"Check who the History teacher is."

"Mister Harrington, who the hell is he?"

"I was friends with a boy who came up last year and he says that Harrington is the most boring teacher he had ever had. Apparently he writes his lessons on the blackboard, and you have to copy them down word for word. He said that the old git hardly ever speaks and he hates first years."

"Oh crap, is that the truth?"

"Well it came from a first year so I'd say it probably is."

I checked on the calendar, we had double periods of History on Wednesday just before lunch and a single period Friday morning. "Who else do you know?"

"What, teachers? None. Harrington was the only one I was told to look out for. My mate said that the Maths and English teachers were cool but both retired last year so who knows who we'll get stuck with."

I checked down the list, "Well according to this we have Miss Durant for Maths and Mister Mertens for English."

"Urgh, check last period Friday."

"Double English, what's wrong with that?"

"It's a homework nightmare waiting to happen ain't it? Just think about it, you make it all the way through the week with no homework and then it's Mertens, waiting for his last class on Friday, and it's us. We walk in and he has that grin on his face and a frikking book in his hand, and you know your whole weekend will be spent trying to work out what the hell some writer was on about when he wrote a book that none of us will have ever thought of. Fucking homework nightmare."

It was Thursday morning so we wouldn't have to wait too long to find out. "Well there's nothing we can do about it now so we'll deal with it when we get to it."

"Okay, but don't go saying I didn't warn you."

"You lot shut up!" Mister Manning shouted and the room went quiet. "You've been split up into different classes so you won't always be in this group." I nervously compared calendars with Kinger to make sure we were both in the same classes and relaxed when they matched exactly. "You have fifteen minutes until break time so now would be the right time to ask me any questions you may have. Nobody said a word, "Good, when the bell rings get out and I'll see you all back here at half past two for afternoon registration." With that he stood up and walked into a doorway opposite the entrance door where his personal lab was hidden from the rest of the room. As the door closed behind him I heard a communal sigh of relief and conversations broke out all around the room. I looked down the long workbench and watched as Smith and Cattermole just sat quietly, minding their own business.

"So, what's the plan?" Kinger asked.

"Um, plan for what?"

"Well I bet your friend behind us will be looking to get back at you for the girl comment. So what's your plan?"

I suddenly had a vision of the pathway around the locks, and found myself standing at the fork again not knowing which way to go. I gritted my teeth and turned around to face spit boy. If I didn't deal with him now it was just going to get worse and worse, and I couldn't be dragging Sean into a war with the kids at the other end of the crescent. "Hey you!" I called out and the room went quiet, all eyes were on me, I was shaking but there was no way I was going to back down now.

"What do you want Headga?" spit boy said as he stood up and glared at me.

"Call me that again and I'm coming over there to kick your ass." I stared him down and took a step forward.

He watched me and I could see the slightest twitch of doubt in his eye, "You ain't worth the hassle."

"Try me! Spit boy!"

He looked confused. "Your sister is a slag and she spits when she should swallow!" I said innocently but most of the room burst into laughter and spit boy's face lit up like a red traffic light. Somehow, I'd insulted his sister without fully knowing how. He started to cross the distance between us and I stood my ground, "C'mon spit boy make your move!"

"Just not worth it..." he sat back on his stool, seething.

"And don't you forget it!" I added for good measure. I'd won the day but when I turned to face the front Mister Manning was standing watching me.

"Fisher stays and the rest of you leave...now."

Kids streamed out of the room and I sat with my head hung low in shame, I hadn't been in the school for more than an hour and I already up to my neck in trouble.

Mister Manning pointed to the middle of the front row and I slowly made my way there not wanting to look at the man in the eye. "Sit. Look at me boy!" As our eyes met I could see something that wasn't anger. He took a deep breath and said, "Two years ago I was in an accident, we were in a plane getting ready to skydive when the guy behind me made a joke in poor taste and I took him on. Before I knew it, the door opened and it was time to jump but we hadn't finished our squabble and my back was toward the exit. I shouted something, I can't remember what it was, but the next thing I knew I was tumbling through the air and I hadn't attached my static line." I must have looked confused, "It's the drawstring that automatically opens the chute. I'll not lie to you Fisher I crapped myself, and as my body fell toward the earth I said a prayer but my training kicked in and as I tried to open the chute the bloody thing roman candled." He picked up a piece of chalk and drew a long cigar shape on the board, "I pulled the cord and discarded the chute and went for my spare but the ground was racing toward me as it opened. It did its best to slow me down, which, truth be told, wasn't that good. The only thing that saved my life was a copse of fir trees that slowed me down and pretty much broke my fall, along with some of me at the same time. When I hit the floor both my heels were shattered and I was close to meeting my maker. It took an hour and a half before I was found and another hour before they could chopper me out." He sat back down and looked me over, "This year is going to test you like no other. Furmidge still has his fans here and I reckon some of them will be after revenge, so watch your back. You made a good start today standing up to that boy, keep it up and don't back down to them because as soon as you do they'll come at you with everything. As teachers we can only act once it's happened but we will be watching Fisher. You want some advice?"

"I do."

"Don't go looking for them but be ready when they come at you, it's the small victories that matter. Make friends, but make the right friends, okay?"

"Sir?"

"What?" he got up and stretched.

"You still skydive?"

"You think I'd let that ass tell me how to live my life? No way in hell Son, I still jump whenever I can."

"He pushed you, didn't he?"

"He was a bully and no one left in the plane wanted to be a witness so officially no, unofficially, yes he did."

"And?"

"And he has to live with that knowledge and with the understanding that one day I'll be waiting for him when he least suspects it and then I'll shut him down for good!"

"You're going to kill him!"

"Don't be stupid Fisher. A bully is a bully and they will always be a bully. One day that bully will pick on someone else and when he does I'll be there to teach him a lesson, and then I'll let the law take its course. Much like Furmidge, my bully belongs behind bars." I nodded. "You did the right thing testifying that day, I watched you from the gallery. Good job Fisher. Now you have Geography in SW1. Down the stairs, head left, first right and third door on the left. If Mister Gibbens gives you a hard time tell him I kept you back and get him to speak to me okay?"

"Thanks Mister Manning." I got up and half-ran, half-walked to the door.

"Oh, and Fisher?" I turned back and waited. "Nevermore! Nice choice."

I nodded and legged it out of the science lab into the rapidly emptying corridors and headed to the Geography room.

***

"So, what happened with Manning?" Kinger asked me as we wandered around the playground at break time trying to get a feel for the place.

"Nothing, he just wanted to know what went on with spit boy," I lied. Secrets are important to a person and I never tell.

" _Hmmm_ , he give you a hard time?"

I shrugged, "Nah, not really, just told me to watch my step." We came to a concrete platform next to the five-a-side football pitch, I put my oversized bag down and hoisted myself up to sit and watch the older boys play. There was an unwritten rule that first years weren't allowed to join in which was irritating. I wasn't the best football player but I wasn't the worst. I heard somewhere that golf was the great equalizer but I knew that was bullshit, when you're a kid the great equalizer is age and sometimes size. "This is a cool lookout spot; we should make it our own."

"Good idea. I dub this spot the lookout!" Kinger said pretending to use a sword to pat the concrete. I laughed as he climbed up and sat beside me, "Nice view!"

"It is, isn't it?" I pointed toward the grass rugby pitch where spit boy was hanging out with a couple of other kids, "Check that idiot." He was pushing around a smaller boy obviously trying to intimidate him and I readied myself to jump down and go and sort it out but Kinger put a hand on my shoulder.

"Hang tight James," he pointed at spit girl walking toward her brother with Shaz at her side. "She really is a monster!"

"Which one?"

"Both of them!"

I smiled and relaxed, knowing that I wasn't ready to take on the mighty Shaz. I looked down into my half-open bag and spotted the brown paper parcel, oh crap I'd forgotten about Daisy's present! The bell went for end of break and I cursed myself for not staying focused on the one thing that far outweighed taking on spit boy, his sister and their personal monster. Maybe spit girl wasn't the right name for Meesh; maybe Frankenstein would suit her better now that she had her monster. I laughed as we went back into the school and Kinger gave me a questioning look, "I thought I might change spit girl's nickname but I've changed my mind."

"I have to ask James, do you know what spit and swallow refers to?"

"Spitting I guess."

"No, not at all." He grabbed my arm, pulled me close and explained the other meaning and I could feel the blood rushing to my face, "Really? They do that?"

"They do."

"Oh my God that's disgusting!"

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it."

"You tried it?"

"I'm twelve, what do you think?" He laughed and pulled me through the mass of bodies toward the metal working shop. "So, this should be fun!"

"Really? I don't know so much."

It was boys only in the workshop and as we walked in I could see a few new faces in the class. To my delight spit boy wasn't there with us, neither was Cattermole, which left only Smith. Kids sat around playing with various sharp-looking objects talking about stuff only kids talk about which is mostly football and girls. As with most new groups there was no leader yet but everyone knew that Smith would get that honour. The boy was laid back enough to act as if he didn't care either way and I immediately took a liking to him. I pulled a short stool out from under a work bench and sat down next to Kinger.

"I wonder where the teacher is."

"Who knows?" I said nervously. Being in a room full of new people with sharp objects can be a little intimidating. I looked around trying to size up the competition; there was a group towards the back of the room with several longhaired kids wearing jean jackets with patches on the front. A group of smaller kids were in the front of the room watching everyone else very carefully and the rest of us were evenly spread out in groups of ones and twos. One particular boy caught my eye; he was dressed in a black pair of skin tight trousers, a pair of black Doc Martens and a leather jacket to match. He saw me looking and came over. "Alright?"

"Alright. So, have you heard the word?" he asked.

"What word?" Kinger and I said together.

"Things are changing comrades. It's going to shift the face of music as we know it!"

"What is?" I asked, starting to get irritated with him.

"It's called punk rock." He lifted the lapel on his biker jacket and showed us a badge of a letter "A" partially circled. "It's going to be anarchy comrades, and you're either in or out." The boy grinned at us; he had stubby teeth that had way too many gaps between them. "Watch this space for the music, got it?"

"Sure. Who are you?"

"Paul but you can call me Pod, all my customers do." He wandered off to the next group on his mission to spread the word.

"What the hell was that all about?"

"Beats me." I heard a rasping noise and looked over to where Smith was busy filing down a piece of metal as fast as he could. I caught his eye and he grinned at me manically. I gulped, not knowing what he was doing, but when he stopped and coughed the whole class fell silent.

He held out a finger and filed the metal one last time before taking it from the vice and forcing the red-hot end down onto the back of his hand. I swear I could hear the sizzle of his skin as he gritted his teeth and glared at the rest of the class. When he was satisfied he pulled it off, taking some of his skin with it, and threw the piece of metal towards the back of the room, "So who's next?"

"What?" I blurted out.

"You deaf Fisher?" I tried to sink into my stool but the boy held my stare. "Yeah, I know who you are, don't try to hide. Think you're a big man eh? Think you're hard don't you?" I was shaking my head madly. "Let's see what sort of man you are," he stepped toward me and I felt hands clutching my arms as someone pushed Kinger away. "Bring him here." Several of the bigger boys in the class dragged me over to Smith's work bench and held me in place. I watched in horror and he looked around the room, "Spit not here? Never mind, I'll do it myself." He picked another piece of metal off the bench and went to work on it, filing it so hard that the metal heated up quickly, "Hand." He pointed at the desk and the others held my hand face down on the table. They forced my hand onto the wooden bench and I was in full anxiety mode but I didn't cry out once. "Look at me Fisher!"

I looked up into his eyes and held his stare, "Tell your thugs to take their hands off me, I'll not move!"

He grinned at me, "But I'll bet you'll scream."

I shook my head, "No way."

"We'll see Fisher."

He went back to work on the metal as his boys let me go, it took all my nerve to stand there while the sound of the file bit into the steel but I never moved an inch. When he was satisfied he looked me in the eye. "Get on with it." He never even looked down as the hot metal made contact with my skin and started to burn. It was some of the worst pain I had ever felt but after you've had broken ribs you can kinda deal with a lot of pain. I gritted my teeth even though I just wanted to cry out and run to the tap. After what seemed like an age he took the metal away but I didn't move.

"You're done." He nodded so slightly that if you hadn't been looking closely you wouldn't have noticed it. "Go wash it and if you tell a soul I'll..."

"I won't say shit," I added before he had a chance to finish his sentence.

"I believe you Fisher." He placed his hand on top of my head, turned me around and pushed me toward the taps and the relief of the cold water. "Now that's a man you lot should be worried about! Who's next?" he called out and I heard only one voice accept the challenge, it was Kinger. By the time the teacher rushed in through the door and apologised, we were both sat back down at the bench with a soaking wet paper towel wrapped around our hands as a makeshift Band-Aid.

When the teacher asked us about it we claimed that we'd been burned by a Bunsen burner in the lab and he acted like he believed us, probably not caring whether the story was true or not. All I knew was that we were now a part of something bigger, but I had no idea what that something was.

***

By lunchtime I was starving, it had been one hell of a morning and I had a feeling that both Kinger and I had made an okay start to the year, well in the eyes of the rest of the class at least. But there was one more thing that had to be done, and as I held my plate out to the dinner lady and watched her slip a greasy burger between the stale sides of a roll and place it on my tray I couldn't help but look over my shoulder at the rest of the school, trying to spot Daisy Maize in amongst the sea of uniforms. I thought that she would see me and come running over to collect her present and fall in love with me, but that was just one of my daydreams, and life was always very much different.

I gobbled down the stale bun filled with a burger that might have been some sort of meat and threw most of the veggies in the bin, much to the disgust of the dinner lady collecting the trays. "Sorry," I said but she never answered as she tugged the tray from my hands. I told Kinger I had something to do, that I'd meet him in the form room for registration later and went in search of Daisy Maize. I was a bag of nerves, I'd faced off the threat of spit boy and the white-hot metal but I was more nervous about facing Daisy than I was about anything else the school could toss my way.

I checked the football pitches and netball courts but had no luck, so went to our lookout post to get a better view of the rest of the grounds. There were several groups of kids relaxing under the trees that lined the grounds but I couldn't make out who was there, and cursed my luck at having to go and walk the entire boundary line in the hope of finding her. But I'd made a promise to Missus Maize and I wasn't prepared to let her down by being a chicken. I jumped down and picked up my bag but the pain from my burn made me wince and I quickly swapped hands.

I walked to the main gate and slowly made my way around the line of trees searching for any signs of Daisy Maize, the first three groups were all older than me and just ignored me as I walked past trying hard to look like I wasn't searching for someone. Trouble came when I passed the fourth group because behind the tree hidden where I couldn't see them, was spit girl and her monster. As I watched in slow motion the two girls came out of hiding and stepped in front of me. My heart was beating out of my chest but I stood my ground.

"Where you going, Headga?" spit girl said venomously.

"None of your business."

"I heard what you said about me and Shaz you know."

"Really and what was that then?" Where I was getting this bravery from was beyond me but all I knew was that no matter if I got my ass kicked I wasn't going to back down. "Something your little sister said?"

Spit girl punched me in the shoulder and I staggered back, "You called us slags and said I should learn to swallow."

"No, I called you a slag. I have no beef with her." I pointed at Shaz the monster who looked on impartially. "You want to do this then it's just you and me." By this time the kids nearest us began to form a circle around us and more and more were joining all the time.

"You hear that Shaz? He says he has no beef with you. What do you think we should do with him? Kick his ass?" Shaz grunted but stayed back, "What you going to do Headga? Run back to mummy or to that old witch of yours?"

Insulting me is one thing, but bring my mum into the argument and there was going to be trouble. I stepped up and pushed her as hard as I could, "I don't need anyone to fight my fights bitch!"

She took two steps back but came at me whirling both arms like a windmill in a storm. I ducked out of the way and pushed her from behind but my aim was poor and she managed to turn and land a punch that caught the back of my hand and stung like hell. We faced off eye to eye. The kids were all shouting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and I felt someone tackle me from behind but I managed to stay on my feet and toss the body over my shoulder where spit boy landed in a heap in the grass.

"Going to take more than two of you," I kicked the boy in the back and he fell forward coughing. That seemed to really wind her up and she came at me again, all screams and wailing hands. I replied in kind and I found myself on the floor with Meesh on top of me trying to punch me in the face, but I managed to throw her to my right, roll on top of her and pin one of her hands under my knee. She screamed out in anger and I punched her full in the face. Some might say that fighting a girl was a cowardly thing to do but when you have a fifteen-year-old girl with teeth, nails and fists coming at you you'll do anything you can to protect yourself. The punch landed and to her credit she didn't stop coming at me with her one free hand until I managed to pin it down with my other knee. She carried on thrashing around and swearing at me but she was beaten and she knew it. I lifted a fist and feigned another punch but I saw her flinch and only fear looked back at me. "Done?" I screamed at her. She nodded. "Say it!"

"I'm done! I'm done."

I rolled off her and stared at the blue sky that rapidly turned into the faces of kids that I'd never met before. I slowly stood up to see Smith standing next to Shaz; he nodded at me and walked back away from the crowd. The monster dragged spit girl away, leaving her brother still lying on the grass, I grabbed him by the arm and helped him up, "It's over."

He looked at me scared, "Okay, it's over you win."

"No, no one wins, this isn't a game. This whole bullshit feud had nothing to do with you, I have no issues with you but don't call me names, got it?" He nodded and pulled away from me and I couldn't help shouting one last word as he and his friends disappeared into the crowd. "Nevermore!"

I turned around and came face to face with Daisy Maize who said, "Quoth the Raven," and held out her hand. I found my bag lying on the ground, pulled out the package and gingerly handed it over. "Thank you, James Fisher," was all she said before walking away, and once again I said nothing at all. But it never mattered one iota, she knew my name!

Ten

Thursday turned into Friday and as I sat at the breakfast table the next morning I could feel Mum staring at my war-wounded face and hastily bandaged hand, "Fun day at school James?" I nodded, pretending to chew vigorously on the plastic-tasting porridge. "Anything we should know about?"

I looked to Sean who shook his head, "No Mum, just school stuff and it's all taken care of."

" _Hmmm_ , should I be expecting more _school stuff_? Or maybe a phone call from a certain headmaster?"

"Nah, we're all good Mum," Sean added as I opened my mouth to answer.

"Okay," she sighed, "if you say so, but be warned both of you, if that phone rings once and it's about either of you there's going to be trouble."

I grinned at Sean but once again he'd gone back into his own head and ignored me, "Mum, we have gym on Tuesday and Thursday and swimming on Monday mornings. And for some bizarre reason they're going to send me to Home Ec. on a Friday morning."

"Fine, let me know what you need," she mumbled and went back in the kitchen.

"Maybe it's because they know about this stuff," Sean pushed his bowl away indicating the gruesome porridge with a huge smile on his face. "So, dipstick what's the thing with the hand? You been stupid enough to join a gang?"

"Nah it was Smith, I think it's some sort of class initiation. He's a bit of a weirdo."

"Serious football skills though, first team and he's only a first year. No one does that."

"Yeah and he's built like a brick shit house, maybe he was held back and he's really eighteen."

"Nope he's twelve, we had his brother in our class when we were first years but he only lasted a term before he disappeared. Word in the playground was that he went to the nick like Furmidge. His name was Liam."

"Ours is called Ian. He stood by the monster as I had my rumble with spit girl."

"You mean Shaz?"

"Yeah, Meesh's enforcer."

Sean laughed, "You got it all wrong bro. Shaz is a softy, Meesh just uses her for backup. You know what that nutter's like; she probably forced her into it."

Shaz wasn't Frankenstein's Monster? Well that's news, she'd been nothing but aggressive toward me. "We speaking about the same girl? Big, ugly and angry as hell?"

"It's just a mask James, how would you feel if you looked like her?"

I had to give him credit for calling it like it is; Sean was always a good judge of character. "So why does she hang around with spit girl?"

"Maybe no one else wanted to be her friend? I dunno, everyone has their own deal. She's only a year in front of you and one behind me."

"No ways, I thought she was a senior!"

"Nope, she's just a big girl with a bad friend. That bitch will be gone next year and Shaz will be on her own, and trust me when I say that there are people at school just waiting for that day to get a bit of revenge. With Meesh about no one will take the chance, well that was before you kicked her ass. Anything can happen now."

I never realised my altercation with spit girl could cause so much trouble, "Shit!"

"Exactly, you upset the natural order of things and I can guarantee there will be a shake-up. Meesh has had her way at the school for three years and you undid all of that in seconds. Proud of yourself?"

"No." I looked down into my bowl as the realisation crept up my back and into my brain.

"Well you should be. You and your buddy Smith pretty much tore the rule book up and now it will be a free for all, but they'll all leave you alone unless you want to try to grab the power?"

"What? What power?"

"Furmidge and Meesh ran the playground and now they're both out of the way, someone has to take over. That going to be you James? A first year has never done it but with Smith at your back you might have a chance."

"No!" I shouted as Mum came charging back into the room.

"What's going on? No fighting at the breakfast table or I'll tell your dad!"

"Relax Mum we're just talking."

"Yeah Mum, just school stuff."

"This school stuff is starting to bug the hell out of me!"

I smiled at her and that seemed to do the trick as she went back into the kitchen, "So what you got today?"

"Science, History, something called RE and double English to finish the day."

"Religious Education, it's not what it sounds like, it's all about Egyptian Gods and stuff like that. Who you get stuck with in English?"

"Some guy called Mertens."

"Owww...bad luck!"

"Why?" I asked as an uneasy feeling swept over me.

"He's a tosser; he likes to watch the school busses leave before letting his classes out. Midnight Mertens never lets you go home. He's a dick."

My world grew a little dimmer, I was looking forward to English and I was hoping that the teacher would be just like Missus Maize. Maybe Sean was just trying to wind me up but something told me that he was telling the truth. If Mertens was like that it was going to be a long walk home. I have training starting next week and if you're late for training you're in trouble and they can even kick you out. Well there's no point in worrying about what hasn't happened yet, as Missus Maize would say. And since today was another school day the possibility of running into Daisy Maize cheered me up no end.

***

Kinger and I got through the morning's classes unscathed but when it came to lunch break you could feel the tension in the meal hall. Sean was right, things had changed. Meesh was nowhere to be seen and Shaz sat quietly on her own at one of the outer tables. I grabbed a tray and held my nose as the dinner lady piled on some cabbage and cottage pie and waited for Kinger at the cutlery station. As he dug around for a clean knife I said, "Follow me and don't ask questions alright?" He shrugged, and we fought our way through the rows of hungry kids gobbling down the rank smelling dinner as quickly as they could, so they could escape the pong of the hall and get back to the vastly more important game of football, or whatever it was that the girls did. I'd planned to try and find Daisy but that would have to wait.

As we neared Shaz's table Kinger pulled on my shirt, "What are we doing?"

"We're going to sit right there." I pointed at Shaz's table.

"Are you insane? You don't sit at a senior's table."

"I know, just go with the flow." I pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Shaz who looked up from her plate of half-eaten mash and mince, "Alright?" I could feel the eyes of the school burn into my back but screw them; it was my school as much as it was theirs.

"Alright," she responded and carried on pushing the food about her plate.

Kinger sat down and looked about nervously. "James, over there," he pointed at a group of bigger girls on a collision course with our table.

I could feel Shaz's anxiety as I banged my fork lightly on the table to get her attention, "You're alright Shaz, I got your back." She glanced at the oncoming danger with wide eyes and looked back toward me and I knew she was about to run. "Relax, you're alright, I promise."

"Oh...okay." I could hear the nerves in her voice as she stumbled over her response.

As the posse arrived at our table I stood and faced the leader who was a skinny girl that stood a good six inches taller than me. She had lank brown hair tied into a ponytail and several freckles underlined her brown eyes. As she opened her mouth to speak I had to back away slightly, she stank of cigarettes. I pulled out a chair next to me, "Sit down, we need to talk."

The skinny girl looked me in the eye, "I'm here for her, this has nothing to do with you Fisher. Stand aside and this will be over nice and quickly."

The volume of the noise in the hall had dropped significantly as the tables closer to ours watched on. "Whatever you have to say to her you can say to me, and any threat to her is a threat to me, and I don't take threats lightly. Now sit down and we can sort this misunderstanding out or we can go at it here and now." I was bluffing my ass off, but I was committed and things had gone too far. I caught Sean glaring at me from another table and Smith stood up across the room and headed our way.

She took a look around and sat down. She was surrounded, and sitting was the only thing she could do without losing face. As the room went back into its normal cacophony of noise I worked out my first peace deal, "Jennings, right?"

She nodded, "Jennifer."

_Man some parents suck at names_ , "Jennifer, I'm James and this is Steve and Shaz. I know why you're here and it ain't happening. What's gone on in the past is over and Shaz isn't a threat to you anymore. Meesh is history and we both know it. Her reign of bullshit is over and if you want to take on that job you're welcome to it but we want nothing to do with it. So here's how this is going down. You and your girls will walk away and go about whatever it is you do and we'll go back to our lunch. You want the playground, you got it. We walk away and never trouble you again."

"And what if I say no and want to make an example of her?"

"Then you'll have to make an example of me as well."

"And your dog?" she pointed towards Smith who stood hovering by the tray stand looking at us suspiciously.

"Nope just me and you, whenever you like. What's it going to be?"

She stared at me for what seemed like an age and then stood up, "Let's go girls. And Fisher?"

"What?"

"Deal."

"Deal it is."

I looked back at Kinger as the new queens of the playground left us, "Time to go." He nodded enthusiastically and we stood up. "You alright Shaz?"

Shaz nodded and stood up, "Can I come with you?"

"Sure."

Shaz grabbed our trays and took them back to the collection point where Smith had been lurking, "I hope you know what you're doing James."

"So do I." I smiled at Kinger, trying to look as calm as possible all the while my heart was racing. We waited for Shaz to join us before I went in search for the girl of my dreams, but Daisy was nowhere to be found. And if truth be known, I had no idea what I would do even if I did find her. A bell sounded for the end of the break, Shaz did the unthinkable and hugged me before going off to her next class. Kinger looked at me with a smile on his face, "Do not say one word!" My new best friend laughed and we went in search of the room where History was taught. True to form we walked in and saw a blackboard full of scruffy cursive writing and after a brief introduction we were told to copy it down word for word, and to learn it before our next class.

By the end of the period I was bored out of my mind and only a few jokes from Kinger kept me awake, the bell sounded for registration and we hustled out of the room as quickly as possible, stuffing our books back into our bags as we went. "Double English and we're out of here! What you doing this weekend?" Kinger asked.

"I have a date with a lady and a crow."

"Nice... I guess."

I smiled but never went into detail about Missus Maize, she was my old witch and I didn't want to share her with anyone.

Registration was just a short fifteen-minute roll call in our home rooms simply to make sure that we weren't bunking off from school, and once everyone had said "Here," we moved onto the one thing I was looking forward to and dreading all at the same time; English with Mister Mertens. My mind was busy with ideas on how to circumvent any plans the teacher may have for keeping our class back. But as we walked into the room I was over the moon to see the words _Of Mice and Men: John Steinbeck_ written in large white chalk letters, I couldn't believe my luck!

Mister Mertens called us to order and introduced himself which seemed to go on forever. Once he'd finished telling us exactly how accomplished he was he grabbed one book out of a large pile on his desk. "This year we'll be dealing with a few of the classics in an effort to drag your young minds out of the soft porn and cartoons that brainwash you, and into the light of literature that may actually be worth your while to read." He grumbled something under his breath and handed a pile of books to the boys in the front row who dutifully passed them backwards. "You need to read this in your own time!" he screamed as a few of us began to pick through the pages, but I just left the book in front of me where it had landed on my desk and my eyes were firmly fixed on Mertens'. He noticed me staring, "Something I can help you with...name?"

"James Fisher," I stood up.

Mertens eyed me up and down, "I really don't need to know your first name Fisher. You want to share something with the class?"

"I know this story."

"Ah... we have a literary genius among us, pray tell Fisher, seen the movie? By the looks of you your parents can hardly afford to buy the book."

Well if he wanted to piss me off he'd done a good job, "No, I can read Sir, and so can my parents, thank you very much!"

Mertens had a grin on his face that reminded me of a cat that had just cornered a very slippery mouse and I could hear my heart beating in my chest as the realisation that if I didn't sit down and shut up I could be making a huge mistake, but guess what? I stood there, threatening a teacher, what the hell was happening to me?

"Then I propose a test Fisher, no not a test, a bet. Let's see now, I bet you that you can't tell me exactly what the book is about and if you win no one here has to read it...but, if you lose then I have every member of this class for an extra twenty minutes every Friday until all of them have read the book and given in the report."

I looked at Smith who nodded and I bit my lip, my mind was screaming no but my mouth said, "Deal!" As you can imagine I received a few looks from some of my classmates that could kill, if you believe in that sort of thing. Kinger kicked me underneath our double desk trying to get me to shut up but the deal was done and either I went through with this or all my hard work at making a statement over the last few days would be for naught.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and launched into the story of Lennie, the simple-minded giant, and George, his normal-sized best friend. To my ears it was the perfect synopsis. I'd asked Missus Maize so many questions at the end of the story that I knew every nuance off by heart, and as I explained why George ended up shooting Lennie in the back of the head for accidently killing the flirtatious wife of Curly the ranch owner's very jealous son, everyone's eyes were on me and the room was silent.

All heads turned as one to the front to where Mertens stood scratching his chin, he said one word that shredded my credibility and destroyed everything I had worked for, "Nope."

"What!"

"You deaf Fisher?"

"No Sir but..."

"But me no buts Fisher," he smirked at me in a truly hateful way. "Double or quits if you can tell me who said those lines?" I shook my head and sat back down, "Yeah I thought so, kids from your sort of background don't know Shakespeare from a hole in the ground." He paused and glared at me, "Sure you have nothing to add?"

_Yeah, you're a bastard!_ I felt like a rat in a trap, and I was disgraced all because a teacher can say whatever they like to make you do whatever they want, and I knew when I was beaten. No point in making things any worse. Mertens, my new arch enemy, started giving his instructions for when he wanted the book report by and how he wanted it written. Smith was in the seat in front of me and as I sat there shaking my head he turned around.

I was expecting to see an angry face and hear a threat but he smiled and whispered, "I have detention for the next two months anyway. I'll be out of here before you lot."

I couldn't help smiling at him, most people saw him as a bit of a dolt just like Lennie, but Smith was a lot smarter than that. I leant back in my chair and raised my hands to stretch when I felt a poke and turned to face Pod, "The revolution's coming brother!"

"Sure, if you say so."

"It's going to be anarchy, right on!" He raised a fist in a salute.

"Okaaayyyy..."

"He is such a weirdo," Kinger said, looking over his shoulder at the self-professed punk rocker. "What the hell is anarchy anyway?"

"I have no idea." I added it to my list in my head of what I wanted to speak to Missus Maize about and kept my head down for the rest of the lesson. The bell for the end of school blasted out at a quarter past three and I could hear cheers and laughter as the rest of the school went home for the weekend. Only Smith got up and took a slip of paper to Mertens who looked at it and waved him away. Mertens packed up his stuff and lit a cigarette.

One of the front row asked what we should be doing for the last twenty minutes but Mertens just shrugged and looked at me, "Ask Fisher."

The blood rushed to my head and I just wished my bag was big enough to swallow me whole. I watched the clock slowly tick past three thirty and then drag its way to three thirty-five and freedom. Mertens sat looking at his watch until he counted down the last ten seconds, personally thanked me for keeping the whole class behind and then was first out of the room. "Asshole!"

"Not so loud James," Kinger said, as he reached to cover my mouth.

With Smith gone there was no clear leader in the room so everyone filed out and went their separate ways. We were last out and as I looked to the sky the first rain of the summer fell from the sky. "Great, just what we needed."

"Bus or walk?"

I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to wait in the rain for a bus that could take three minutes or three hours depending on my luck, which at that moment sucked. "Walk."

"Cool, then I'll catch you on Monday. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Kinger shouted as he ran out of the gate. He lived at the other end of Locksway Road so when we walked home our paths separated at the school. I hooked my arm through the handles of the bag, swung it over my shoulder and shoved my hands into my pockets. Home was a couple of miles away over soaking wet grass and a small swampland that housed a family of swans. I walked up the street to the Eastern Road and pressed the button on the pole in front of the zebra crossing. My hair was already wet through and my mood was no better, but as I ran across the tarmac I looked up at Shaz who was waiting on the other side.

"Mertens?" she asked as I crossed to her side. I nodded. "Thought so."

I never bothered to ask her why she was waiting in the rain, who cares about that sort of thing when you're twelve? And I must admit I was thankful for the company, which was strange to say the least, as Shaz was the quietest person that I had ever come across. I tried to engage her in conversation but her answers were one-liners that never needed a riposte. It was a fairly ugly walk through the long grass and the ever-expanding pot holes, but we finally made it onto the walkway that led to the locks. I asked her the one thing that I knew would engage her. "Why Meesh?" She stopped in her tracks and sat down on the wet concrete wall that held the sea back from invading the land and looked up at me expectantly. I really didn't want to get my ass wet but what choice did I have?

"Because she let me."

"She let you what?"

"Hang around with her."

I shook my head, looked into her dull eyes and saw nothing but sadness, "I don't get it, she let you?"

"No one else ever wanted to hang out with me but Meesh let me." She looked back out over the bobbing boats, "She's alright."

"Really? She comes across as a real bitch."

"She is...but that's just her."

"Doesn't make it right Shaz." The big girl shrugged. "Look at it this way, she's a bitch and you hang around with her, people think you're also a bitch and you're not."

"And now I hang around with you, does that make me a smart ass?"

My mouth dropped open, "I'm a smart ass?"

She smiled at me, "Oh yeah. Whose fault was it that your class was kept late?"

"Mine," I admitted ruefully.

"Thought so, only a smart ass would fall for old Mertens' bullshit."

"He challenged me to a bet and I took it."

"Yeah, he did the same to Tenning last year, told him he couldn't say the opening few lines of Romeo and Juliet and Tenning is an am-dram nerd. I reckon he got it right but Mertens just said no and we had to stay for the extra twenty minutes until each of us could say them. Tenning got more than one beating for that mistake."

"No one will beat me."

"Well if they do I'll thump them for you."

"No you won't, people already think you're a bully 'cause you hung around with Meesh and it's time that changed, unless you want to be seen as a bully?"

Shaz shook her head, "She'll want me back you know."

"Well you'll have to stand up to her. She's a dickwad."

"What's that?"

" _Erm_ ...It's what she is," I tried to bullshit my way out of not knowing.

"Sure," Shaz laughed. "But really, she said that she'd tell my foster parents that I'd been fighting and I could be moved away from the crescent." I had no idea that Shaz lived in the care home at the other end of the crescent. I thought she had a family there, the same as the rest of us. Guilt suddenly filled me from head to toe and she must have seen the change on my face, "It's okay, Mrs and Mrs Singleton are nice people and the food's good." Shaz smiled but now I knew where the sadness in her eyes came from.

"How did you end up in there?"

She looked to where the sea washed against the rocks, "Mum and Dad passed in a car crash five years ago and no one else in the family wanted me. It's not as bad as it seems, most of my family are troublemakers and there are more in jail than out of jail. It's not great growing up with the name Kray and all the questions that come with it. And before you ask me, none of my family is related to Ronnie and Reggie, it's just a coincidence, but the family trade on it like they own it."

"Wow," everyone in England knew who Ronnie and Reggie Kray were.

"It's not as cool as it sounds and I'll be changing it when I'm old enough. Come on, we need to get moving." She dragged me to my feet and we followed the path around the college grounds, through the turnstile, which was put there to stop people riding their bikes, past the canal and back into the crescent through the hole in the wall. "See you later."

Shaz walked off but I was damned if I'd let her walk home alone, Meesh could be close by waiting for her and if she was then she'd have to deal with me. "Hang on!" I pulled up next to her and fell into step.

"You don't have to do this; if she's around I'll deal with it."

"I know you will, I just want to see Meesh get what's coming to her." I lied, Shaz would cave if I wasn't there and everything would be back to the way it was. We carried on walking until we came to the junction of the crescent and Waterlock Gardens and there, waiting like a vulture at a lion kill, was Meesh and some of the other fourth years. "C'mon let's just get this over and done with." We crossed the street and tried to walk away but Meesh followed us and we had nowhere to go. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to see this betrayal with my own eyes." Her look could have withered even the hardiest of flowers, "Shaz, c'mon girl let's go and leave this loser in the gutter with the rest of the crap."

I could feel Shaz's indecision and jumped in, "So you're going to let her hang out with you?"

"Yeah, so what dickhead?"

"The _so what_ is Shaz can choose who her friends are without you controlling what she wants and what she doesn't want. You're nothing without your gang and we both know it." I glared at the gang of hooligans, recognising some of the faces that were with Furmidge that day. My heart was beating out of my chest but I knew inherently that Shaz was worth the trouble.

Meesh just stood there in her bubble of self-righteous bullshit and scoffed at me, "What do you know Fisher? You're just a kid with a bad attitude."

"Rather a kid with a bad attitude than a slag that uses people and lets them hang out. Shaz is a friend of mine and she can choose who she wants to hang out with, the difference between me and you is, I leave that choice to her."

"C'mon Shaz, enough of this dickhead and his big words, there's stuff I need from the shops down the road."

Meesh held out her hand, and to Shaz's credit she held her ground for a while, but the pressure of the group must have been too much for her. She joined Meesh and the two girls walked away with the rest of the gang in tow. I must admit I was pretty pissed at Shaz, I really thought she'd turned a corner and I walked back to our house as the rain soaked into my skin and dampened my mood even further.

***

The Saturday morning sunshine poured into my room and invaded the privacy of my dreams. As I opened my eyes my mind switched into day mode, and I couldn't help but wonder why Shaz had chosen to walk away with Meesh. The girl was clearly bigger than all of them and I knew she could hold her own in a fight. There was something else going on and I knew it was time to look into what. I crept down the stairs and headed out the backdoor without even bothering to battle Mum's oats.

I hadn't slept well the previous night as my mind was busy thinking of ways to beat Mertens at his own game and get the class back on my side, and when I had a crazy plan mapped out I dreamed about Daisy and what we would do if we ever went out on a date. If I made a guess I would say that I only fell off around three o'clock, so with four hours sleep under my belt and a hungry belly I strode into the car park and came face to face with Shaz. "Oh, there you are, I was about to come and look for you."

"I thought you might so I waited."

"How long for?"

"Couple of hours; you sleep a lot for such a small person."

"I only had four hours!"

Shaz just shrugged, "So what are we up to today?"

I joined her and leaned against the wall, "Shaz I'd never tell you who you can hang around with and who you can't, but Meesh would. You sure you can do both?"

"You don't want to hang out?"

"Of course I do. I just don't want you to be pulled back and forth between the two of us."

"I'm done with her. I owed her one but the debt's paid and she's history. From now on I'll choose who I want to hang out with. And before you ask it's none of your business what the debt was, okay?"

I paused as my curiosity nearly got the better of me, "Um...okay. So what do you want to do?"

"I dunno, what do you normally do on a Saturday morning?"

I smiled, "C'mon, there's someone I want you to meet."

Without another word Shaz fell into step next to me and I showed her the way to Missus Maize's house. The old lady was standing on her porch with a cup of tea in her hand staring at the sea as we got to her gate. "Just you hang on there!" she shouted as I put my hand on the latch of the gate.

"It's just me Missus Maize."

"I know it's you Mister Fisher but who is that with you? I seem to remember someone who looked just like you girl, and the last time I saw her she was leaning over James Fisher here as he writhed on the floor in pain."

Shaz pulled back and turned to leave. "No wait...please. Stay here and let me talk to her okay?" She nodded and I went into the house with Missus Maize and did my utmost to convince her that Shaz had turned over a new leaf but the old lady was having none of it.

"A leopard doesn't change its spots James," she said as I watched Shaz from the front room window.

"Missus Maize, please give her a chance. That Meesh girl had her tied down to some sort of debt and Shaz is...well, easily led."

Missus Maize gave me one of her famous looks and slowly nodded, "You are a strange one James Fisher."

"She's okay Missus Maize, I think she was just as much of a victim of Furmidge's reign as any of the crescent kids were."

"But you weren't, were you?"

"No, but that's just me."

"And she isn't you."

"No, she's her own person and I know deep down she's a good person. She lives with..."

"I know exactly where she lives, but that doesn't make any excuse for her doing what she did to you."

"She had no choice, but she's made a decision to be my friend. I'd really like it if you would too Missus Maize, it means a lot to me. You don't owe me anything and I'd never pressure you but..."

"But me no buts..."

"Shakespeare."

"What?"

"It's a long story Missus Maize, our new English teacher is a bit power crazy, he put the whole class into a twenty-minute detention for nothing and he cut me off mid-sentence with that saying."

"And he said that was Shakespeare?"

"Yup."

"Then he's an idiot. And this girl outside, in your class, is she?"

"No, a year ahead of me, in Daisy's year actually, but in a different class. Mister Mertens, the teacher, nailed her class last year with a similar trap."

" _Hmmm_ , and she warned you about him?"

"No, we only spoke about him afterwards."

"Well does she know I'm the Bird Witch?"

"I guess so, I never asked her about it."

"Very well James Fisher, tell the girl to wait by the gate and you can pick her up here at five o'clock Sunday night, got it?"

Who was I to argue with the Bird Witch? "Sure, but what am I supposed to do? I'd planned to spend the weekend bugging you about your box of records and bullying you into reading."

"Well we can do that and your friend can go home on her own, or you can spend the time working on how you're going to deal with Mister Mertens and his obvious lack of knowledge on eighteenth century female playwrights. Maybe a trip to the library in Milton Road at around lunchtime would be very useful for you James Fisher, but if anyone should ask I never said a word about it. Dealio?"

"Dealio," I said a little confused about her cryptic message. It was Saturday and the library was only open till one. I had the whole morning to go and look for the answer to Mister Mertens' obvious mistake, so what did twelve o'clock have to do with anything?

"Run along now, me and young Shaz have work to do." Without another word she hustled me out of the door as Mr Poe told me to bugger off, and then stood in the doorway as Shaz watched me with a nervous glint in her eye.

I smiled at my new friend and tried to look as reassuring as possible, "Have fun and I'll see you late Sunday afternoon."

"What! You're leaving me with the Bird Witch?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing and I wish I could stay. Missus Maize is one of the coolest people I know and I trust her with my life, in fact I already did."

Shaz took a deep breath, "Okay, I trust you but I don't know about her, she looks like she might kill me."

I laughed, "No ways Shaz, but I'd watch out for Mr Poe if I were you!"

***

There was nothing else to do but go back home, take on the oats challenge and try to busy myself until eleven when I'd leave for the library on Milton Road, almost a mile and a half from the crescent. Well that was the plan but there was a significant hurdle to overcome first.

The ground was still damp from the early morning dew so I slipped out of my trainers and left them outside the backdoor. Mum and Sean were busy speaking over breakfast, Dad always worked Saturdays to make some extra cash. I squeezed myself into the chair closest to the wall and poured a cup of tea from a cracked teapot full of brown stains and waited for a lull in the conversation before trying my luck. "I have a book report due next week, thought I'd pop down the Milton Library to do some research. Closes at one so I'll be home by two easily." I left it as a matter of fact and not a question hoping that she just bought into it and I would be free to go.

"Oh, you are, are you? And who said you can go so far from home on your own?"

Sean slammed down his spoon onto the table and left to do whatever he did on a Saturday, he seemed upset but I couldn't work out why. "C'mon Mum, I'm twelve and all the rest of the kids can do what they like."

"And do all the other kids go looking for trouble like you do?"

"That was below the belt Mum."

She seemed to be biting her lip. "Now listen here young man," she started, but I could tell her heart wasn't in it and she mumbled something under her breath and let out a sigh. "James, we worry about you. Fighting at school, burn marks on your hand and that Shaz girl from the other end of the crescent already waiting outside when I woke your dad up for work. What's going on with you?"

"Just kid's stuff Mum." I needed to level with her and I explained the fight with Meesh and her brother and the stupid metalworking induction, and all the while she sat and listened, by the look on her face, without judging. Lastly, I explained what had happened with Shaz and Mum just sat there and stared at me, "That's it Mum. I swear."

She nodded and asked the one question I hadn't expected, "So who's this Daisy Maize?"

I swallowed hard, I had only mentioned her once in my story. Mum was like a hunting dog and she could smell a rat from miles away, "She's Missus Maize's granddaughter."

"And?"

"And I had to deliver a parcel to her." I dug into my gluey breakfast and shrugged, trying my best to look casual.

"You like her hey? How old is she?"

I was busted. Should I deny it and laugh it off or be honest...damn, damn, damn! "She's a year older than me and I don't really know her."

"But you'd like to, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah I would," I looked straight down into my bowl.

"And she's going to the library today?"

Well that was unexpected, maybe that was why Missus Maize was being so cryptic. "I don't know but...I hope so." I lifted my head and gave Mum my cheesiest grin.

"And this girl knows, does she?"

"That I like her? No ways!"

"Well if I were you I wouldn't wait too long to tell her, someone else will gobble her up before you."

"Does that mean I can go?"

She thought for a long, hard moment, "Okay James. You have this one chance to prove to me you can go out and not get into trouble. Take that Shaz with you."

"No can do," I said as I took my bowl to the kitchen, "she has her own mission this weekend. Thanks Mum." I was so excited that I took the stairs three at a time. My confidence was at an all-time high but life stuck out a foot and I stumbled just before the landing. As my chin hit the carpet I watched as one of my top front teeth sailed through the air and came to rest a foot from my face. Blood ran down my chin and tears started to well in my eyes.

Mum must have heard the commotion and came running, "What on earth was that?" But when she saw me sitting on the stairs crying and holding my mouth her tone changed, "Oh James, show me how it looks!"

I opened my mouth and saw the look of concern on her face. My tongue explored the area and found a huge gap, dead centre of my mouth, "No!" The words came out but it didn't sound like my voice.

"It's alright James, don't worry, everything is going to be fine."

She dragged me to the bathroom and made me sit on the edge of the tub while she cleaned my face and took a good look at the damage, "Well they had to come out sooner or later."

By the look on her face it was plain to see that the damage was pretty bad, but when I looked into the mirror and smiled, both my front teeth were gone and any chance of speaking to Daisy disappeared. I felt like screaming out loud and cursing the universe for being so mean, but it was me that ran up the stairs, and it was me who tripped. With that realisation I burst into tears.

***

It took most of the morning to regain my composure and convince Mum that I was still okay to make my trip. As I walked down Locksway Road leaves started to drop from the massive conker trees that lined Saint James's hospital, the local loony bin, where zombie-like people walked through the grounds muttering to themselves or shouting at the kids that used it as a shortcut home from school. I kicked at a pile of leaves and watched a seedpod from a sycamore tree as it circled through the air like a miniature helicopter, and tried to come up with a plan of how on earth I was going to speak to Daisy in my current condition. Maybe I should just smile at her and take the chance that she wouldn't run a mile or maybe I could use sign language or draw pictures like I did with Sana. But in the end I settled for not talking to her unless I absolutely had to.

I looked at my watch; it was only half past ten so I stayed on Locksway Road until it met Milton Road where I crossed the busy intersection across the zebra crossing, making sure I only stepped on the white lines. I'd had enough bad luck for one day thank you very much!

The library sat in the grounds of Milton Park, home to a few local gangs and one or two tramps that hadn't been moved on by the local coppers. A few kids kicked a ball around on the grass but most of them were congregated around the playground that was made up from swing sets, roundabouts and a massive metal slide that looked way too high for my liking. I skirted around it, not wanting to draw any attention from the locals and kept to the path that led to the library.

Once I knew I was a safe distance away from them a picture of Daisy came to mind and I had an urge. I looked around desperately as two women with prams headed down the path on a collision course with me and my unfortunate erection. I scanned the area for places to hide but the two mothers were on me before I had a chance to go anywhere. Thankfully, they just walked past me chattering like two hens in a barnyard and relief flooded through me. I snuck on toward the library and the safety of a few rosebushes that surrounded the public toilets.

My erection subsided and I cursed my bad luck as my full bladder reminded me that I needed desperately to pee. Luckily enough I made it to the loos before I wet myself and I made sure that I shook it enough so I didn't leave a pee stain in the groin area on my cutoffs. I walked past an old tramp who held out a bottle to me and grumbled about the youth of today. I ignored him and hurried on toward the hallowed doors of the public library.

I'd been here before, Mum had been very keen on us joining in the hope that we would take up reading. It never really worked out, but at least I still had three tickets. I checked the huge white-faced clock on the library wall and cursed my luck once more, it was only eleven o'clock and Daisy would still be another hour. As much as I liked looking at books I couldn't just walk around for an hour.

I had to make the best out of a bad thing and went to the children's section where I was greeted by a myriad of colourful covers, but none of them spoke to me. It was then that I remembered that I was there for another reason. I plucked up the courage to go and speak with the snooty-looking librarian with the long greasy hair tied back in a scruffy ponytail. She was one of those plain girls that you see hanging around places but never really joining in with anything, and for some reason I kinda felt sorry for her.

"Finished judging me?" she snapped as I walked up to her.

"What?" I spat as my tongue looked for any purchase it could find now that my teeth were safely at home under my pillow.

"I know your sort, you've been judging me all the time you were waiting in line, I can tell by the look on your face."

I was in the throes of lying when I realised that I didn't owe this girl anything, "Well I guess that you put yourself out there for that, and yeah I was judging you, sort of." I stuck out my chin in a show of pride.

"And?"

"And...I don't know you."

"Ah...so you feel sorry for me. You're one of those that thinks they can save people like me aren't you?"

"Look Miss..." I checked her badge, "Furmidge..." _Oh shit!_ "I just need some help."

She looked me up and down and I could see a slight resemblance to the hooligan I put behind bars. "Card?"

_Damn!_ She'd see my name on the card and I would be in a whole world of hurt, "It's fine, don't worry I can find it myself." I tried to walk away but she insisted and told me that if I didn't have a card she would have to ask me to leave. I didn't want any more hassles with her family. I sighed and handed it over.

She looked down at my name and a quizzical look crossed her face as though she recognised it, but couldn't quite place it, then the penny dropped. She looked back up to me and then back down to the card, "Nevermore eh?"

The bottom dropped out of my world, "Yes. I'm sorry."

"I'm not. My cousin's an ass and he's caused a lot of crap for our family. You've got balls Fisher I'll give you that. Now what is it you want?"

Thank the Lord my luck was finally beginning to change, "I wanted to find a book by an eighteenth-century playwright but I don't know her name."

"Her name? Well that narrows down the search somewhat. What clues have you got?"

"Just a quote, _But me no Buts_."

"Oh really?" her voice had a hint of sarcasm like she thought that I was trying to make fun of her. "Okay Fisher, who sent you?"

"No one."

"A first year comes into my library and asks about a quote that only fourth years have to know and you're here for yourself. Go to Great Sultarns do you?" I nodded. "First year English?" I nodded again. "And I bet you have Mertens don't you?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"How old do you think I am? He used to teach us at the old school until yours opened and then he moved there to carry on torturing students. Got you into detention, did he? What book?"

"Steinbeck's _Of Mice and Men_. I challenged him and he bullshitted when I had him nailed."

"Like you were ever going to win that fight! He's been doing this since you were born James Fisher and you think you can better him by embarrassing him over a simple quote? Oh, you young ones have so much to learn. I bet he called it Shakespeare didn't he?"

"He did."

"And?"

"I don't get it."

"You'll find out that it was Susanna Centlivre and then challenge him on it to try and negate to detention, right?" I nodded, not liking where this was going. "And what do you think he will do."

"Some bullshit I guess."

"No, that's the thing with Mertens he always has some semblance of truth to his trials."

"Trials?"

"Yeah, we called them trials and as one of us figured out the answer and tried to negate the Friday detention he would have another up his sleeve to torture us with. A quote and a name is his go to response when he feels like he's being challenged. You'd read the book and given him a fair synopsis?"

"Better than fair."

"And I bet he never gave a reason, I bet he just said no and the trials began?"

"Yes."

"Typical. Listen here James Fisher he can't be beat, take your punishment and forget about the trials. We stayed behind for two years solid and never found a way around it. The man's a monster and if you go head to head you'll lose...in fact you already have, and now he has you!"

I was scared out of my wits. What sort of man would do such a thing? "That's just not fair! How can he expect to get away with this? I'm going to talk to my dad, he'll sort it out."

"Bad move Fisher, he'll use you and wind you up like a cheap watch. He'll let you go home early every Friday and keep everyone else back, and all of them will know that it's your fault because you were so soft you got your parents to sort him out."

_Damn it!_ She was right, "There has to be some way!"

"Nope. Just keep your head down and don't challenge him."

That wasn't going to work for me at all. I hadn't stepped away from a direct challenge since I fell through the corrugated iron roof, and I damn well wasn't going to do it now. "I'll figure it out."

I thanked the librarian and looked through the books she recommended that could and probably would become our reading list for the year, and as I lost myself in several of the blurbs on the dustcovers I failed to notice Daisy Maize walk into the library.

It was only when the bell rang for closing time that I looked up and saw the blonde ponytail that belonged to the girl I loved, as she queued to get her three books stamped. And what did I do? I sat there and stared. My well thought-out plans of talking to her and gaining her affections through my book knowledge and boyish charms had truly gone out of the window. I shook my head, closed the book I had been thumbing through and stretched. My back had become sore from sitting at the kid's table. As I opened my eyes and closed my mouth the girl of my dreams was standing in front of me, pointing at my face.

My heart wanted to pound its way out of my chest. I started to mumble but I could feel something run down my chin. Realising that it was either blood or spit, or both, I tried to wipe it away with the back of my hand. Daisy shook her head and handed me a tissue, which I gratefully accepted and shoved it straight into my pocket without using it. I followed her eyes down onto the cover of _The Jungle Book_.

"Interesting choice."

I looked back into her eyes and nodded. Her voice was melodic and calm and she was more beautiful than ever. She was my _Summertime_ , my _Cupid_ and my _Bohemian Rhapsody_ all rolled into one. All I managed to say was, "Umm..."

"Do you know what I like about you James Fisher?"

"Umm...no"

She raised her eyebrows, a la Missus Maize, smiled and turned to walk away.

I had to say something and I had to say it now! "I'm not always an idiot!"

She turned back to me, "You most certainly are not James Fisher." With a wink of her eye and a smile on her lips she walked out of the library. I ran after her, determined to make a better impression and nearly ran into the back of Mark Jenkins, a third year that lived in the house across from ours. My heart broke as I watched Daisy climb into the Jenkins' Volvo. Mum was right, someone else had snatched her up and I felt devastated. I should have turned away and gone back to the library but my feet wouldn't move. As the car pulled into traffic Jenkins wound the window down and smirked at me. I was beaten, and as I watched the car pull away I felt warm blood fill my mouth and run down my chin. I pulled Daisy's tissue out and wiped the blood from my face.

"Screw it!" I tossed the tissue onto the ground and walked home. She was in love with another and I had to move on, but the more I thought about it the more I knew that wasn't going to happen. I had a new problem to solve. How to get Daisy away from Jenkins and into my arms.

***

I returned from the library as two o'clock struck. Mum was waiting at the front door; she saw the look on my face and jumped straight into the problem, "What happened?"

I shook my head. My world was ending. Daisy had said yes to another. My life would never be the same again. The thought of Jenkins kissing Daisy made me feel sick, and for reasons I never understood, I hated Jenkins, even though I'd never spoken to him. He didn't hang out in the crescent; in fact the whole family were quiet compared to the rest of the rabble that made up our little part of England. Worst thing of all was my bedroom lined up perfectly with the front of the Jenkins house and the thought of seeing Daisy arrive in that car and go inside tore at my soul. I scrunched my face up in pain, pushed past mum and ran to my room. I jumped onto the bed, pulled the curtains and buried my aching face into my pillow. I wanted nothing else to do with the world. Everything could go to hell!

***

By the time Dad got home I was still hiding out in my room, the anger gone. All that remained was an empty space where my heart used to be. When he knocked on the door I wiped my eyes and told him it was open. Daisy was gone but dad's pep talks always helped and I was sure he could tell me what to do. But things never go the way you want them to.

"You alright?" he asked as he sat down on my bed and I rolled over to look at him. I shook my head. "Girl eh? Well Son, I can only tell you two things about girls and then the rest is up to you." I sat up and waited for his words of wisdom, "Firstly, girls are the best thing in the world and don't let anyone tell you any different."

"And secondly?"

"This is the important part," he coughed for a dramatic pause. "Girls suck."

What the hell? What sort of help was that? I could have told him that without all the drama, there surely had to be more, "Is that it?"

"Yep, that's just the way of things. They don't think like we do and they have their own language that you will never understand. When they say one thing they mean another and when they ask you a question about them for God's sake don't answer without thinking first."

I remembered my outburst as Daisy walked out of the library and cringed on the inside, she must think I am such a dolt. "So how do you do it?"

"Do what? Ask one out?"

"No! Talk to them! How do I tell her how I feel?"

Dad laughed, "You don't ever tell them that until you are one hundred percent sure that they feel the same. And you've never had any issues talking to anyone James, she's just a girl, talk to her like she's a friend."

The thought of that scared the crap out of me. "I'll try," I said, feeling no better whatsoever.

I buried my head back into my pillow and felt Dad get up to leave. He put his hand on the top of my head, "Take your time Son, you'll feel better soon enough."

But I didn't and I probably never would.

***

"Not a great look for you James Fisher," Missus Maize said as she leaned on the doorframe. "Got into a fight again?"

"Only with our stairs at home."

"And by the looks of things the stairs won, did they?" I nodded. "No chance of a rematch?"

"Very funny."

"Well smile boy. Let's have a look at you." I did as she asked and she couldn't or wouldn't stop laughing until Shaz appeared from behind her with a carrier bag and a smile, until she saw my missing teeth and a cloud crossed her face.

"Don't sweat it Shaz. I fought our stairs and our stairs won," I sang mimicking Sonny Curtis's famous song from the sixties. It's amazing the facts that stick in your head from when you were very young, and you'd listen to your mum sing along with the radio.

"You sure James?" Shaz asked.

"Yeah, I can be a real klutz."

Missus Maize walked Shaz to the garden gate where I stood waiting for an invitation that didn't come. She unhitched the latch and shooed Shaz out, "You find that playwright James?"

"I found something even better. One of the librarians was in Mertens' class for two years and she gave me some ideas." Which was a complete lie as Miss Furmidge clearly said I should do nothing, but I felt like I needed an out if things went south. I could always just blame the librarian.

Missus Maize's eyes bore into mine as if she knew I was talking total crap, "And how was the rest of the trip, anything else exciting happen?"

My mouth seized up, "Umm...no, not really."

"Okay, just asking, don't get your knickers in a twist over nothing."

"Sorry Missus Maize."

"No need," she closed the gate and leant over, staring both of us down. "Right, now listen up both of you. I want you both back here next Saturday bright and early, we have a ton of work to get through. Got it?"

I smiled and nodded vigorously. I'd had a silly notion that now I'd introduced Shaz to the Bird Witch my time with my teacher would be done, and I was glad I was wrong, "Seven o'clock on the dot."

She looked at Shaz who nodded without saying anything. "Go on then, get out of here," she ordered, "I don't have all day to hang around here talking to the likes of you two."

I looked at Shaz and laughed but she looked sad. "What's up?" I asked as we rounded the pub and headed back toward the hole in the wall.

"I don't want to go back."

"Why? What did she do?"

"No, not Missus Maize, it's the foster home, I don't want to go back."

She looked at me for an answer to her problem but I was drawing a blank and pointed to the small common ground next to the crescent that we called the dump. There were a few blackberry bushes and some old broken boats, and late on a Sunday afternoon there was no one there apart from a few of our neighbours walking their mongrel dogs. If you could afford a pure breed you could afford your way out of the council estate and wouldn't be caught dead in amongst the flotsam and jetsam that called the dump its home. We walked in silence as I tried to formulate some sort of response but I had nothing. I led her to an upturned wooden dingy that was once red and white but now looked like an old frail patchwork quilt of colours. We sat on the faded hull, "Want to talk about it?"

She looked like she was having a mental fight with herself and there didn't seem to be any winner in sight so we sat in silence. I may only be twelve but even I knew that sometimes you just had to shut up and let a person work through their own stuff. The only thing to do was to wait in your own head while they battle it out in theirs, and just for fun the face that I saw in my mind wasn't Daisy, it was Mark Jenkins, laughing at me for messing up at the library.

"I hate it there," she said after an age.

"Are they mean?"

"No, they're really nice and so are the rest of the kids."

"Okay," I added not knowing what to say.

"I just hate it." She looked up into the sky. "Summer's over James, the autumn's going to be cold and the winter will be a bad one."

"It's always cold."

"No, it's going to be really bad. Always the same on a hot summer year. Nature has to balance itself out; the cold will be twice as bad, mark my words!"

"Fair enough." I thought maybe Missus Maize had told her and didn't take any notice of what Shaz said.

"She knows, you know."

"Yeah, she knows a lot of stuff."

"No, she knows what happened at the library. The girl phones her every day and you were the subject of their conversation."

"What?" I shouted and then whispered, "What? They talk about me?"

"Well I don't know if they always talk about you but they did this afternoon."

"Well, what did they say?" I was getting excited and pulled on Shaz's white school shirt. I made a mental note to ask her why she was wearing the uniform once we'd got the whole conversation told.

Shaz looked at me, "How am I supposed to know what the little princess said?"

I took offence to the word princess but tried hard not to show my irritation, "Well what did Missus Maize say?"

"Well there was a lot of _hmmm's_ and _ahhh's_ and a few, what did he do? Then questions, and then that was it."

"And you sure they were talking about me?"

"I don't know anyone else called the Fisher boy, do you?"

Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I had no idea and the thought that Missus Maize and Daisy were talking about me made me excited and more than a little annoyed at the same time but I, as always, had questions, "So she phones every day?"

"Did while I was there."

"And when you asked Missus Maize about it what did she say?"

Shaz looked at me and frowned, "Why would I ask her?"

I knew it was a stupid question as soon as I'd asked it but I'd spent my short life opening my mouth before engaging my brain so why stop now, "Damn it!"

"You're really hooked on this girl, eh?"

I looked over the dump and watched as a kestrel hung on the wind and circled the old allotments. "I suppose I am. What would you do?"

"I don't like girls."

"I know that but..."

"How do you know that? You never asked me? Don't I look like a girl who could like girls?"

Dad's warning rang loud in my ears which my brain dutifully discarded. "Yeah you do and no I didn't and... I suppose I just took it for granted," I said all at once.

"James, you have so much to learn about girls."

And then the idea struck me, Shaz could be the answer to the Daisy Maize conundrum "You could teach me!"

"About girls? Are you mad in the head? Do you know why I didn't like hanging around Meesh?" she didn't stop for an answer, "All she speaks about it clothes, make-up, who she hates and worst of all, boys."

"C'mon it'll be good fun, I'll teach you about boys and you can teach me about girls."

"This is a bad idea."

"It'll be great." Well it sounded great to me anyway. "You want to stay over at mine tonight?"

"Sleep over at your house?" She shook her head, "I think you may need to speak to your parents about why you're inviting one of the people that made you fall through that roof first."

"Damn I'd forgotten about that!" I needed to think this through so I played for time, "Okay I'll deal with them. Meet me at the bus stop for school in the morning..."

"I'll wait out the back of your house."

"Okay fine, I'll talk with Mum and Dad tonight and we'll make a plan."

"You sure about this James?"

"Yeah it'll be a doddle." But I knew it wasn't going to be anything of the sort.

***

It was gone six when I got back from walking Shaz to the foster home and Mum was waiting for me in the kitchen with that, where the hell have you been, look on her face. I checked the clock and cringed. "Sorry Mum, I had stuff to sort out, it won't happen again."

"James, I don't know what's going on with you but it's beginning to be a problem. That's not like you at all. I saw that girl waiting for you again, and I want to know what's going on, right this minute!"

"I told you, she's just a friend."

"She was one of them!"

"She was forced to be one of them, now she isn't."

Dad must have heard Mum shouting and came rumbling out of the lounge into the kitchen with an angry frown, "What?"

That was Dad's favourite saying when either Sean or I was in trouble, just the one word, but when you heard it you knew you were in a whole world of hurt. Mum and I just stood there looking at him, neither one of us wanting to speak first. Dad took a deep breath as he recovered from his initial rage and lowered his voice as I heard Sean's footsteps running for the cover of his room. "What's going on?" he asked as calmly as his mood would let the words leave his lips.

Mum seemed to buckle under the pressure so I stepped in, "I'm late home and I made a new friend."

"So your mother tells me," he turned his attention to Mum who was regaining her composure, "You want me to deal with him being late?"

"I've got it love, you go back to the telly."

He stared both of us down, "James sort your stuff out and pull yourself towards yourself or I'll do it for you." I nodded. "Soon as your mum's done with you get your butt upstairs, bath and bed. It's a bloody school night..." he muttered and went back to the lounge.

Mum was glaring at me with daggers in her stare, "She is not to come into this house James Fisher, what's that word you like so much...Nevermore!"

I was seconds away from correcting her use of the word but the anger in her glare drove the words back into my throat and as far away from my mouth as possible. I reluctantly nodded and headed for the solitude of my room.

"Love you James," she called and for the first time in my life I failed to answer, and I hated myself for it. What the hell was going on with me?

Eleven

I woke up on Monday morning in a terrible mood, stalked my way across the landing to the bathroom and washed my face. As I looked up into the mirror at my missing front teeth I saw it. It was under the skin and barely visible but it was there, my first zit, right between my eyebrows. "Oh great, no front teeth and now spots!" I glared at my reflection and furiously washed my face until my eyes started to water from the soap going up my nose. I checked to see if it was gone but all I'd managed to do was make it bright red and I shook my head. "What next?" I asked the universe.

What next was the cold shoulder from Mum at breakfast. I'd seen her do it to other people but she'd never done it to me before, and it soured my mood even more. My breakfast was unceremoniously shoved under my nose with the spoon sticking straight up in the air, and I knew that I had to eat every last mouthful to even get out of the house without being moaned at.

I tried to talk to her about anything other than what had happened the night before, "We have sports today."

"Oh, I forgot. I may be _late_ doing the ironing. I had so much to do last night," she said sarcastically.

_No, no, no!_ I didn't need crumpled up gym clothes, no teeth and spots! I checked the clock but there was no time to iron them myself. I ran to the pile of clean clothes and pulled out my shorts, t-shirt and socks and shoved them into my bag along with my trainers and a towel. I was looking forward to the gym session but we had to shower afterwards and that was one thing I wasn't keen on. Boys don't like showing each other what they have when they use the loo, sharing a communal shower was just a step too far and it was freaking me out.

I quickly washed my bowl and headed out the door, "Love you Mum." But whether she answered me or not I'll never know. As Shaz fell in step next to me I knew this was going to be the school day from hell. She must have picked up on my mood and didn't say a word until we got to the bus stop and there was no other choice. "Mum said no."

"Thought she would, don't worry James."

"I'll work on her Shaz, I promise."

"I know you will." I could feel the sadness pour out of her.

"It's never just one thing that goes wrong," I said kicking a stone into the road. "Life sucks."

"We still have Missus Maize."

Shaz was right, and the thought of Missus Maize's eyebrow trick made me smile. "I'm glad you like her. She's the coolest person I know." Shaz thumped me in the arm, "Oh, apart from you that is."

***

When Kinger saw me he laughed so hard I thought he was going to choke, but I have to admit that it did make me feel a little happier. After explaining my fight with the landing, he patted me on the back and said, "Well at least it takes the attention away from that zit trying to explode out of your forehead."

"Is it that bad?"

"Looks like you have three eyes."

"Oh for God's sake!"

The three of us made our way over to our lookout point and sat on the cold concrete, "What you got today Shaz?" Kinger asked.

"Normal crap, just glad there's no gym today. You lot?"

"Not so lucky," I added and looked down at my crumpled-up gym kit which was trying to hide away from the light streaming into the top of my bag through the broken zipper.

"I thought you liked gym?" Kinger asked.

"I do, just not keen on the shower afterwards."

"You've all got them." We both looked at her. "Penises, you've all got them." I felt myself blushing. "Get over yourself," she prodded me in the arm. "No one will be looking down there with a face like that."

She grinned and for the first time that day I felt confident in facing the showers, "No argument from me on that one."

The bell rang and we all we headed into the building, and another boring school day commenced.

By the time the lunch break came around I had taken so much abuse about my teeth that I'd just accepted the taunts and tried to laugh along with them. When the more vocal boys found that giving me a hard time didn't bother me they left me alone and picked on someone else in the room.

The one constant thing was Pod's undying love of punk rock and his revolution. I found myself liking the one-man army, he was a boy on a mission to spread the word and I respected his never-wavering dedication to his cause. Only a twelve-year-old can come up with that conclusion after knowing the boy for such a short time! Three days as a twelve-year-old is a long-assed time. Kinger was ambivalent towards him and just sat with a bored look on his face as Pod told us about something called the Sex Pistols that were supposedly the bomb. How a pistol could be a bomb was confusing but if it made sense to him who was I to question?

As the last of the class said, "Here," to Mister Manning's register call he addressed the group.

"Ladies and gentlemen, first gym class in ten. No messing around! Boys go to their own dressing rooms and the girls' showers are for the girls only and strictly out of bounds to everyone else! Anyone caught creeping around trying to get a look," several snickers echoed around the lab, "will find themselves in hot water. Do I make myself clear?" I so wanted to say that we'd all be in hot water after the session but I sucked on my lip and kept quiet. "And if you're thinking about bunking off forget it, because you're looking at your gym teacher." He smiled at us and I couldn't help smiling back.

Gym was easy for me, I'd always been skinny and fit from my running but that wasn't so for some of the heavier kids in the room. This was especially true of Julie Porter who was twice the size of me and, if truth be told, in need of the upcoming shower. My eyes strayed to where she sat squirming in her seat. Any apprehension that I had about the gym class faded, even my crumpled kit would pale in comparison to Julie Porter's rolls of fat. I caught myself laughing but the guilt of what I'd just thought hit me like a brick, falling out of the sky. I'd never been vindictive so why was it that I found it okay to shove my insecurities onto her? Dad was right; I needed to pull myself toward myself. I'm James Fisher not just some crappy little school kid that picks on the weak and fat kids.

Mister Manning had the boys playing football on the concrete five-a-side pitch as the girls tossed a ball into its tiny netball hoop. The boys were all fire and brimstone as they swarmed around the pitch trying not to kick the crap out of each other, all except me. I was the designated goalkeeper for two good reasons; firstly I was really very average at football and secondly because I see no point in running around trying to tackle Smith who played for the first team. It wasn't as if any of us apart from him were ever going to be first division material. My eyes wandered to the girls who had Julie Porter encircled and were teasing her with the ball, which reminded me of some of the dog owners in the crescent that liked to play piggy in the middle with their tortured pets. Kids can be so mean, and I should know because I'm one of them.

Mister Manning finally put me out of my misery, blew his whistle and shouted for us to get to the showers. My plan was simple, get there first and get out as fast as possible but by the looks of things most of the boys had the same plan. I slowed down, if plan A was out of the window it was time for the opposite approach and I casually strolled back to the changing rooms as kids flew by me.

"C'mon James!" Kinger called out but I just smiled and waved him on.

By the time I got there and started to strip down most of the kids were out of the shower and getting dressed. The cacophony of noise was deafening. I waited until there was hardly anyone else left dry and slipped past them and into the boiling hot shower. As I skipped around the scalding hot sprays I congratulated myself on a plan well thought out. Was I ever wrong! Smithy hadn't showered either and as he walked in I tried to get as far away as possible. He grunted a few words and I stared dutifully at the wall in front of me. No one in their right mind looks anywhere else in a communal shower! Then I heard the laughs and spun around to see four of the girls from our class standing watching us from the entrance, flanked by most of the boys. My hands went straight toward my crotch in the hope that none of them had seen my manhood but I had nothing to worry about. Smithy had not only turned in their direction, he was headed straight towards them, as naked as the day he was born. The girls screamed and ran and the rest of our class beat a hasty retreat out of the changing rooms.

I grabbed my towel and made a beeline for my clothes, and as I sat trying to desperately pull a sock onto my wet foot Smithy spoke, "You just have to have the balls."

"The balls?"

"Yeah when idiots like that do something stupid just do what they least expect. Like you did with the Meesh bitch." He smiled at me and ran a comb through his black hair. "If you keep them on their toes they'll leave you alone. Now, on to business..."

"Business?"

"Business. Yes. How you planning on putting the English detention wrong to right?"

"I'm working on it."

"Better be quick."

"Why? It doesn't impact on you."

"You think not? What do you think happens the longer the class has to stay on a Friday afternoon? Who do you think they will blame, Mertens or you?"

"Me," I said dejectedly.

"Exactly, and that would mean the class would look to me to act out some sort of revenge on you."

"Why you?" I was just curious.

"You're the only one that's stood up to anyone so they see you as a threat, a potential bully and a hard nut."

"What, me? They must be mad! Cattermole is much more of threat than me."

"Word on the street says he won't be with us much longer."

"What, he's going to jail?"

Smith looked at me and shook his head, "You're such a weirdo Fisher. His mum and dad are moving to Bournemouth. Now many would consider that a crime in itself, but it isn't. Just because people have a bad rep don't mean they're a bad person. I've known the Cat since junior school and not once have I seen him fight. He's actually a decent guy."

"Oh," I was judging people again, "I never meant..."

"Like you never meant to get the class detention? You need to learn to stay _schtum_ Fisher. Your way's not always the best way." With that he tied his tie and left me to ponder his advice.

***

The rest of the week was a blur of information, homework, more embarrassing showers and a near drowning when Patrick Jones tried to pull down the front of Julie Porter's swimming costume. He got it very wrong and flailed around horribly as the girl held his head under water until he went limp. It was only the sound of the whistle that saved his life, an ambulance was called and Julie Porter disappeared to the headmaster's room for the rest of the day.

As Friday morning came around I still hadn't come up with a way of overturning our detention and as the day wore on my mood darkened until the inevitable English lesson came around. We had to do a book report on the first four chapters from _Of Mice and Men_ , and I'd gone into so much detail that my report was almost as long as the chapters themselves. Mertens collected the homework and dumped a pile of handouts onto the front desks. "Pass them back, read it and fill it out," was the only instruction we got.

The handout was a pretty simple cursive writing exercise and I finished it in fifteen minutes. Mertens was busy marking the papers and small groups of kids sat around talking in whispers as some slower learners continued to battle through the minefield that was first year English. With only fifteen minutes left in normal school time he stood up and walked around the room handing out the reports and loudly shouting the marks. A for excellent, E for absolute crap, needless to say there were zero A's and more than one E. I knew I had done my best to put in a good report, and as he approached I looked him in the eye and I realised that I was screwed, "Fisher...total drivel, C"

I wanted to explode out of my chair and defend my honour, instead I said, "But..."

He lent over my desk trying to intimidate me, "But me no buts...Shakespeare." It was a challenge, a gauntlet slap to my face, a foot across my line, and I could do nothing, so I shrugged and looked down at my shaking hands that were curled into fists. "Nothing to say Fisher?" I sat still and kept my mouth shut. "Not as mouthy as your brother," he said, so quietly that only those close by could hear, and as I started to rise out of my chair to defend my family Kinger dragged me back down and Mertens went back to the front of the class.

Sean! It's all Sean's fault! The bell rang and we sat doing nothing for twenty minutes before Mertens headed for the door and the school week was done.

Shaz met us outside and tried to keep up with me as I stormed up the road on a collision course with my brother. This time it was me that kept quiet as I seethed on the inside.

***

Sean was in his bedroom playing one of his Elvis records as I stood outside, my blood still boiling. If I burst through the door and Mertens was bullshitting about Sean I was in serious trouble, "Ah screw it!" I turned the handle and pushed as hard as I could, "We need to speak!"

"Get the fuck out of here!" Sean bellowed as he tried to get off Sophie Turner, but only managed to fall onto the floor in a heap as the girl sat up, embarrassed.

"Oh shit! Sorry Sean!" I slammed his door shut and ran for my life.

Mum was in the kitchen cooking a threateningly smelly supper and opened her mouth to speak, but I was out of the house as fast as my legs would carry me. Sean would only chase me so far and I was always the fastest. I stood by the hole in the wall and waited, but Sean never followed. I debated whether I should go back to the house and apologise. I didn't know Sean and Sophie were a thing, in fact I didn't know Sean was part of a thing. Actually, I didn't really understand what a thing was, but Mum and Dad used it when they thought they were speaking code about what was happening with the neighbour Missus Jennings in number 17. She was always having a thing with one man or another.

I'd have to wait until Dad was home and Sean had calmed down a little more. I ducked around the brick wall as I saw Sean's window open and a head poke out. If he saw me he may think that the chase was worth the effort. There was about an hour until Dad got home so I had time to burn and contemplated a trip to see Missus Maize but she'd given us strict instructions to only go to her place in the morning, so I wandered around the dump and sat on the old upturned hull. I watched as the black and white gull's heads bobbed up and down picking scraps from the washed-up seaweed. The tide was fully out and only a small river of water was visible in the centre of the mud flats. The smell wafted up my nose as I took a deep breath. I heard a dog bark behind me. Missus Jennings was shouting at her pooch to stop barking and the louder the dog barked, the louder she shouted, and I sat watching the debacle, amazed at the woman's stupidity. I was sure there was a life lesson there.

She finally got the dog back on the leash and smiled at me as she continued to half-walk, half-choke the dog. My mind went to my Mertens problem, was I the dog barking at nothing while he yelled at me and held me back? I dismissed the thought. He wasn't holding me back; I was doing that all on my own. Mertens was just using my own weaknesses against me and even though I knew it, I still wanted to take him on.

I sat picking at flakes of dried paint off the wooden hull as the first wave of the incoming tide pushed through the river. A frightened cricket jumped onto my sleeve and I was momentarily startled and tried to brush it off, but I lost my balance and slipped off the back of the boat, landing in the grass back first. I leapt up and brushed myself down, the cricket had gone and I cursed my bad luck as I saw the grass stain on the right elbow of my white school shirt. Now I would have Sean and Mum on my case!

I walked back to the crescent and through the hole in the wall as Dad's car drew up, at least I still had one ally. I ran to the car and opened the door as he turned off the engine, "Slow down James. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just glad you're home."

He climbed out and locked the door, "What did you do this time?"

I couldn't tell him about Sean and Sophie Turner so I focused on my other problem, "Mum's going to be upset with me." I showed him my sleeve.

"Then I suggest you get in there, show her and get it over and done with. How did you do that, not another fight?"

"Fell off a boat round the dump."

Dad laughed, "Go on and get it over with."

I ran into the house and straight into Mum. When I'd finished explaining even she thought it was funny and I was off the hook, "Go get cleaned up, supper will be ready in a few minutes and we have a guest." She winked at me.

Oh crap, Sophie Turner. I got halfway up the stairs and saw Sean and Sophie standing on the top step looking down. I quickly backed up, it was a rule in the house that no one crosses on the stairs, Dad said it was bad luck. I ducked into the hallway and waited for them to come down. Sean showed Sophie into the kitchen and grabbed the back of my shirt as I tried to flee upstairs. "Don't say a fucking word!"

I tried to pull away but he had me, "Okay, let go."

"We'll talk about this later."

I pushed my back against him as I remembered why I'd gone into his room, "Yeah we will!"

He shoved me hard and let go of my shirt, my knees hit the lip of stairs and I cringed as pain erupted in my right leg. I rolled over and sat up, "No need for that Sean!"

"Whatever!"

I cursed him as he walked away and I tried to get up, but the pain in my knee flared up like a hundred boiling hot needles trying to pierce my skin. I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry out but I'd had this pain before, and it had cost me a month of training and a trip to the hospital. I banged on the wooden steps trying to make a sound like I had fallen down and let the cry escape my mouth. Mum was first on the scene and as I rolled up the grey leg of my school trousers I could already see the swelling. The look on Mum's face confirmed what I thought and I leant back in agony. "Jim, Sean, help!" Mum cried out and I thumped the wall as the pain intensified. Sean came rushing in and Sophie Turner poked her head around the doorway. The look on Sean's face sent a thousand apologies. Dad was there in less than ten seconds and told everyone to back away as he examined the damage.

"Crap," he said as he twisted my knee and I cried out in pain. "What is it with you and falling off things today James?"

I gently rested my foot on the stair and tried to drag myself to my feet but the pain was too much.

"Ambulance?" Mum asked.

"Can you walk James?"

"I can try Dad," but I knew it was a hopeless situation, and after another bout of pain I gave up and Sean called for the ambulance.

Mum disappeared into the kitchen to put dinner on hold and Dad climbed over me to pack me an overnight bag. The last time this happened I was in hospital for a week and on crutches for another two so we had the whole going to the hospital thing sussed out. I was left with Sean and Sophie. "Sorry dude," Sean said as he tried to soothe Sophie who had started to cry.

I had no idea why she was crying, I was the one in pain! "Don't worry about it, you owe me one."

"We're even."

"You think this," I pointed at my swollen knee, "equals me seeing you two doing, whatever it was you were doing? No brother, you owe me big time."

He looked at me but didn't argue, "What do you want?"

"Our class has detention with Mertens for the next forever, what did you do to make him hate me? And I need a way to get the class out of it."

Sean just nodded and looked up as Dad climbed down the stairs and stepped over me. The sound of the ambulance's sirens wailed quietly in the distance, but as they neared the house they got louder and louder until I could see the flashing lights through the stained glass door. Here we go again.

As I was carried out on the gurney it seemed every one of our neighbours was standing muttering under their breaths, and as I scanned them I saw Shaz and quickly called her over while Mum and Dad were talking to the paramedic. "Tell Missus Maize I'll be there as soon as I get out of hospital."

"What the hell happened?"

"I'll tell you later, now get going, Mum's looking this way." Shaz nodded and shuffled off. The paramedic came back, and with the help of the driver got me into the back of the ambulance. Mum climbed up and strapped herself in for the trip to the Queen Alexander hospital for the second time this year.

***

The emergency room was busy and we had to wait for thirty minutes before we saw a doctor who gave me an injection to kill the pain and sent me for x-rays. There must have been some good stuff in that jab, because when I woke up I was back in the children's ward staring at the ceiling with my leg in plaster. I knew the drill off by heart and found the button to call the nurse, and as she walked into the room my heart jumped, "Sayde!"

"James Fisher," she smiled at me. "Just can't stay away, eh?"

I held my arms out and she hugged me, "Had a fight with some stairs."

"And those teeth?"

"Same thing." Even as I said it I knew it wounded weak. Sayde gave me one of those, _sure you did_ , looks. "I know it sounds lame, but it's true."

As we sat chatting a doctor came rushing in with his entourage and Sayde stood up to let them get close. The doctor was straight down to business without even a hello. At least this time I had a rough idea of what he was explaining to the students, but as I listened I watched Sayde's face and I saw a slight cringe as the doctor prattled on. Eventually he addressed me, "Six weeks plaster, some rehab and you'll be back on your feet young man."

"Awesome, it's running season soon and I need to start training."

The doctor's left eyebrow rose, "We'll see about that." As I sat with a confused look on my face he fired off a few questions at his students and left me and Sayde alone.

Sayde smiled at me and sat back down. "I hate doctors," she admitted as the posse of white coats left the ward.

"I thought doctors and nurses worked together?"

"Sort of, but we do all the hard work," she winked again.

"What was all the mumbo jumbo about? I saw you pull your face when he was talking."

"And this is why I hate doctors, they leave it to me and the other nurses to explain their words in normal speak."

"So..."

"The injury to your knee is extensive. Which means..."

"I know what it means. I've hurt this knee before when I was training."

"Yes, they said that, but this is different James. He said the damage was probably permanent."

"What! Why didn't he tell me himself?" I struggled to sit up but my leg was in a sling and it was impossible.

"Lie still, that plaster hasn't hardened all the way yet. The ligaments are permanently damaged so competition running is over, I'm so sorry James." I couldn't believe it. My life was falling to pieces and now this! I was supposed to go to the Olympics and represent England! I felt like screaming out loud and my face must have expressed my heartbreak. "Try to relax and breathe."

"How long am I going to be in here?" I said, as the anxiety started to well inside of me.

"Around a week I'm afraid. I'll bring your telly later." I was distraught and lay back with my eyes closed. "I'll be back soon, okay?" I nodded but didn't open my eyes until she had left.

"What more can go wrong?" I asked the universe, almost scared of the answer.

***

As visiting time came around on the first day I was surprised to see Sean walk in without Mum and Dad, and after greeting each other with the normal brotherly "Alright?" Sean sat down next to me and apologised; he must have gotten the news from the folks and come clean about what had happened. "Don't sweat it Sean," I said, but what I really wanted was for him to be in this bed and not me.

"What can I do James?"

"You know what I want Sean. Just do that and we're square okay."

"Getting back at Mertens means that much to you?"

"No, but getting my classmates out of detention does, it was my big mouth that got them into it."

"No argument about the big mouth part," he joked, but I wasn't in the mood to laugh.

"No more racing for me. Did they tell you that?"

"They did, that's why I'm here. It's my fault."

I had to let him off the hook, living with guilt is a terrible thing, "Nope, I chose to barge into your room."

"Because of something I did two years ago."

"Get over yourself Sean, how could you have known? It's no one's fault. What I learned the last time I was here basically boils down to: shit happens. Am I pissed off about it? Damn right I am! Do I blame you? No," I lied. I'm twelve, of course I blame him but he doesn't have to live with knowing that.

"Fair enough, I'll get to work on the Mertens thing as soon as I get back. You'll have your answer by the time you go back to school, okay?"

"Dealio!"

"Dealio? What, are you a hippie all of a sudden?"

"Hippies say that?"

"Say that, take drugs, dress funny and smell bad."

Was Missus Maize a hippie? That I had to find out later. "Sean, I need one more favour."

"Give it a name."

My brother could be so dramatic, "Shaz, she's a cool girl and a friend. Convince Mum okay."

He looked me in the eye, "That's it?"

"Yes, that's all."

"Then since you're a hippie, dealio!"

I laughed and we swapped spit-soaked palms as only brothers and Bird Witches can.

Sean left and Mum and Dad come in and we spoke in depth about what the doctors had told them and what our options were. The operations would be expensive and not on the national health. Dad also had problems at work, his union was calling for a strike and that meant no pay and we were barely scraping by. We just sat there in the doom and gloom of the moment but my thinking brain kicked in and I manned up. "Forget about the operations. I'll be able to walk fine and run fairly normally so let's just get on with life. Shit happens."

Mum and Dad looked at me in surprise. I never swore around them, it was a definite no-no with Mum, but she nodded, "You're right James, shit happens, but I really wish it would stop happening to you."

"Halleluiah to that, God only knows we could use a break," Dad muttered, but one look from Mum and he apologised. Mum hated any of us taking the Lord's name in vain.

I took the lead, I'd been in this position before and I wanted to lay down the ground rules quickly, "Okay listen up. You can visit on Wednesday and Friday then pick me up next Saturday. I'll make sure the guards aren't looking and we can sneak out," I joked. "I'm good here and Sayde will call if anything goes wrong, which it won't," I added as Mum looked concerned.

"You sure lad?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, Sayde will bring me a telly and I can catch up on stuff."

"Stuff?"

I'd taken to watching Crossroads last time I was here and I was kinda looking forward to seeing what was happening. "Yeah stuff. And Mum, this wasn't anyone's fault okay. No blaming Sean."

Mum nodded and kissed me on the forehead, "Love you James."

"Love you Mum," and things between me and Mum were fixed. All it cost me was a busted knee, and if it meant that me and Mum never went through that again I would bust the other one as well.

***

Monday morning came and went and the cast was set enough for me to move around. I tried to walk around the room a little, but the pain was still too much and Sayde had to help me back to bed. As Monday afternoon ended and visiting time came close, I sat watching the telly. I didn't expect anyone to come, but I was pleasantly surprised to hear a ruckus down the hallway and the raised voice of Missus Maize demanding to know where I was. She bustled into my room closely followed by Shaz. I grinned from ear to ear to see them both, but Missus Maize's face was thunderous.

"Bloody nurses, busybodies all of them! Always telling a person what they can and cannot do, well I'll have none of it!"

Sayde poked her head around the door but I waved that everything was okay and she left. "I didn't expect to see you two. But I'm so glad you came."

Missus Maize calmed down, "Well I missed coming last time you were half-killed." I felt Shaz cringe. "So young Fisher, your mum tells me that you went back to the stairs for a revenge match after all!"

"I guess I did." I hadn't thought about it that way.

"I thought we had an agreement that there would be no return match?"

"I think the stairs had their own plan."

The old woman smiled at me, "How are you doing?" I gave her the thumbs up. "Good, there's still work to do on the shack. Think you'll be up to it soon?"

"Did it with a broken arm so I can do it with a busted knee. I'll be there with bells on."

"Young Miss Kray here has filled in admirably during your leave of absence, you owe her one."

"Let's just call it even," Shaz said sitting on the side of the bed.

Missus Maize opened her bag, pulled out five books and put them on the nightstand next to my bed. "Couldn't carry the gramophone so I brought you these instead."

"Thanks! You going to read them to me?"

"No chance young man. It's way past time that you started reading your own stories. Your generation watches way too much of that thing." She pointed at the telly.

Come to think about it I'd never seen a telly in her house, "You don't like them? Tellys I mean."

"They make great places to put pictures on, what comes out of them is all bad news and pointless game shows. A person can get lost in all that rubbish and never live their own life. I don't expect you to be one of them."

"I'm won't, but lying here gets a little boring."

"Well now you have something else to keep you busy."

"I have Missus Maize, and I promise I'll read."

"You'd better 'cause I'm going to test you next week."

I laughed and listened intently to Missus Maize telling me about her relationship to each book without actually telling me the titles. When she mentioned that one was another of Daisy's favourites I looked to Shaz and grinned, but the girl _harrumphed_ and poked her tongue out at me. The time flew by and when the bell rang for them to leave I waved them goodbye and grabbed the stack of books to see what the Bird Witch was making such a fuss about.

The first one was an old-looking book with a girl and a boy drawn in white on a background of orange. I read the title out loud, " _The Summer Birds_ by Penelope Farmer." I knew by now that Missus Maize always did things for a reason and if this was the first one I was supposed to read then moving on to the next one would be a waste of time. If she's taught me only one thing, it's never to miss out on an opportunity. My time around Daisy Maize already showed me how bad I was at that. I opened the cover expecting to see a note from the love of my life but no such luck, I'd have to wait. Delayed gratification wasn't my strongest suit, but some things are just worth waiting for. I opened the book to page one and started to read.

After a while the light in the room flickered and broke my concentration. I'd been reading for a few hours and the ward nurse had given the signal for lights out. Damn! I carefully placed a paper towel between the pages as a makeshift bookmark and lay it on my chest as I stared at the ceiling. The story was amazing, kids just like me, being able to fly, made my imagination run wild and I daydreamed about me and Daisy soaring into the sky while we laughed and joked. There was no way I could sleep, so I waited for everything to go quiet before I scooted around on the bed so my head was at the foot end. As quietly as I possibly could I switched the telly on and muted the sound. I lay on my back and used the light from the screen to illuminate the words in the book and I was once again with Charlotte, Emma and the mysterious flying boy.

***

I woke up the next morning still facing the wrong way, with the book lying closed next to me. Sayde was on duty and as she threw open the curtains I pulled the pillow from behind my head over my face. "No," I said from behind my temporary shield.

"Night nurse said you were up all night reading. Interesting book?"

I'd read the whole thing before I finally submitted to my dreams and was totally exhausted, "Amazing."

She picked it up from the bed, read the cover and smiled, "My mother read me this when I was young."

"Can you imagine being able to fly? It must be so cool."

"There are more books in the series. My favourite is called _Charlotte Sometimes_ , but to read that you have to read _Emma in Winter_ first."

I sat up and swung my body around enough to move to the right end of the bed and grabbed the other four books, making sure I kept them in the right order. But when I checked the next title neither Charlotte's nor Emma's name was in it. I was a little disappointed, "No such luck."

"What's that one called?"

"Something called, _The Hobbit_ by J.R.R Tolkien."

I heard Sayde gasp and looked up sharply, "I love that book! Oh James you are in for a treat and a half." She looked like a small girl on Christmas morning. I handed her the book and she took it lovingly, "This is one my father read to me a year before he was killed."

"I'm so sorry!"

"Its fine James, my father was in the army and he died fighting for his country. My family is very proud of his sacrifice. We don't mourn him; we celebrate what he accomplished during his life. And if you'd met my Dad, you would know that it was a lot."

I smiled as she handed me back the book, "Did you meet Missus Maize last night?"

"The old woman that made all of that noise?"

"Yeah, did you speak to her?"

"No."

"You should, you'd like her Sayde. She's a Bird Witch."

"She's a witch?"

"No. She's a Bird Witch."

"I don't understand."

I laughed, "And that's why you should talk to her. She used to be a teacher, English Literature. When I left here last time she helped me get over some stuff and read to me as payment for my work on her shack. She has a crow called Mr Poe."

"Mr Poe the crow," Sayde laughed.

"And he swears at you. He's not very nice at all but he's the Bird Witch's bird, which makes him the king of her castle, if you know what I mean."

"Do you believe she's really a witch?"

I winked at her, "I like to keep my options open and Missus Maize has a knack with people. She knows what you need and she gives it to you, for a small price of course."

Sayde stuck a thermometer in my mouth and looked at her upside-down watch that was pinned to her white uniform, "So I guess you're going to want to jump right into your new book?" She loved asking me stuff when she knew I couldn't answer so I shook my head no. She pulled the glass tube from my mouth, checked the number and wrote it on my chart. Next was the blood pressure cuff. "Why not? It's a fantastic story."

"Missus Maize always does things for a reason and I have to work out the reason why she had me read the first book before I can read the next."

"Well you'd better get that brain working; you have a visitor coming to see you in an hour."

"Oh, who?"

"I'll leave that as a surprise," Sayde pulled the cuff off my arm and said she'd check on me soon. I stared at the cover of my new book and was very tempted to turn to the first page, but I fought back the urge and put it back on top of the others. I had stuff to work out and the sooner I did it the faster I could find out what on earth a Hobbit was.

***

The rattle of the breakfast trolley sounded the start of another busy hospital day. I made myself as comfy as possible and turned on the telly. I didn't really want to watch anything but it can bore me out enough to get lost in my own thoughts. I'd first learned this trick when Dad tried to make me watch a football match in black and white. As one team in grey fought for a grey ball with the other team in grey I lost interest, but the sheer boredom helped me zone out and in those moments I found my imagination at its absolute best. Many a story has played out between my ears while Dad cheered for the grey team or Mum moaned that there was never anything on to watch. It never mattered to me, the more boring the program the more I could zone out.

As the white noise of the news washed over me I closed my eyes and wondered why Missus Maize gave me that book, and what message she was trying to tell me. It wasn't long before I fell asleep and my dreams were filled with a girl being pulled between this world and the world where people could fly, not knowing where she belonged. The girl flew in circles around both worlds never knowing where home was until she realised that she didn't belong in either and flew to another place and out of my dream. "Shaz!" I shouted as I woke up.

"Good morning James," Doctor Goulding said as I attempted to jump out of bed. "Relax, it was just a dream."

I was startled to see my old _head shrinker_ , "Hey Doc, how are you?" I couldn't hide my excitement to see another old friend.

"I'm fine, and thanks for asking. More to the point, how are you?"

"I'm good Doc, but if you're here I guess other people aren't so sure?"

"Hospital policy James. A fit and healthy young man comes into our care twice in the space of a couple of months, injured and with no front teeth, tends to open up a few questions from the pencil pushers upstairs." He gave one of those knowing winks.

I'd never heard the term pencil pushers before, but I knew what he meant, "It's all good Doc, just bad timing."

"So those stairs of yours, dangerous are they?"

I could sense he didn't believe my story, but if you hadn't been there would you? "I know it sounds dodgy but I swear it's the truth."

He looked down at his clipboard and jotted something down, "I believe you James. People are just oversensitive sometimes and they're just trying to make sure you're okay."

"Good, I wouldn't lie to you Doc."

He looked up at me, "I don't think you would James. So how's school?"

"Not as bad as I thought actually. Classes are okay. One boy did try to bully me but I stopped him in his tracks. Made a couple of friends." I must have trailed off a little as he pushed me on.

"Friends?"

"Yeah a boy from down the road and a girl from the crescent."

"A girl?"

"Not like that Doc! She was one of the gang that attacked me but she's not like the others and she has my back now."

The doc looked concerned, "So you managed to forgive them?"

"No not them, her. She lives in a foster home and they were using her as muscle, but I knew she wasn't happy and gave her an opportunity to get away from them."

"By doing?"

I cringed, "I beat up the person that was keeping her prisoner."

This time both eyebrows rose and there was no wink, "Okay maybe you need to explain that a little better."

I took a deep breath and explained the whole story from start to finish and the doc sat and took his notes as we went on. The tea lady broke my stride after a while but she was the only one that came in as I recounted my tale, and the doc never said a word until I was finished. "So that's it Doc, nothing to write home about really."

"I wouldn't say that James, you seemed to have fitted in a whole year's worth of events into a month. No wonder your body thought it needed a break."

"What?"

"I sometimes think that people end up in here because their body and mind can't take any more of life and something breaks. With some people, it's their minds and some people their bodies. When a person becomes too full of things something has to give."

I sort of knew what he was talking about as I remembered the anxiety attacks. "I don't have much of that anxiety thing anymore."

"That's a good sign." He looked at the pile of books, "And I'm glad the Bird Witch has you reading rather than watching that telly of yours." He stood to leave. "You feel up to leaving here on Sunday?" I nodded and smiled, I could wait an extra day. "Good. Well done James, you've come a long way in a short period of time but..." _Oh God I hated buts_ , "I want you to promise me that you won't take on Mister Mertens. It will only end badly, and if I see you in here again in the next year those pencil pushers will have way too many questions for all of us."

"Sure thing Doc, no worries."

"It was good to see you again Mister Fisher."

"Same to you Doc." And with that he was gone and I could get back to why Shaz was being pulled between two worlds, not knowing where she fitted in, and the more I thought about it, the more I understood that I couldn't answer the question. With a final sigh, I cleared my head and rolled my neck trying to get the kinks out, and reached for The Hobbit.

***

"And there are dwarves and an invisibility ring and a Gollum and a dragon Sayde, a bloody great dragon!" I shouted as the nurse did her rounds the next day. "And armies and elves and a wizard."

"Gandalf."

"Yes him. And trolls and goblins," I whispered, "and giant spiders that can speak!"

"So, you liked the book then?"

"Oh...my...God! It was the best thing I have ever read!"

"I'm impressed James, it would take another kid a month to get through that. Your reading skills are very good."

"Mum says I'm better than average and that I don't work hard enough at school."

"And what do you say to that?"

"I say a kid has to keep his head down, the less attention at school the better."

"Well from what you've told me you haven't been doing a great job of that lately."

Damn she was right! " _Hmmm_ ..."

"Don't stress about it, just try to live up to your own standards. Life really is all about you and what you can accomplish, not what you can avoid. Most people never take control of their own life James and many a story just slips through the cracks in time." Her voice was sad and stirred something in me.

"I'm not going to slip through a crack Sayde."

"No, you're not." She wiped my forehead.

I reckoned that I already had a response to Missus Maize's questions on the Hobbit and picked up book three, _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_ by C.S Lewis. I'd heard of this one but never really knew the story. Once again I searched for any sign of Daisy's handwriting, but there was no red pen and no heart shaped message. I dived straight in and another day and a half flew away. Visitors came and went during that time, but don't ask me what we spoke about because I zoned them out and kept my mind on what Lucy, Edmund, Peter and Susan were doing in the land of Narnia. As I finally put the book down I drew in a huge lungful of air. Wow! Each of the books I had read so far became my instant favourite as I fell in love with the worlds and the characters that lived there. Missus Maize certainly knew her stuff and for the first time I was actually jealous of Daisy and the time she had spent with my Bird Witch.

I started wondering about what my life would have been like if I hadn't have fallen through the roof. I think that was her point about the book, I think she's trying to tell me that living in my own head is great, but there's a real world out there that I shouldn't forget about.

My eyes were sore from reading but it didn't matter, there were two left and I had four more days before I could go home. The vision of me falling through the roof was playing on my mind and as I picked up the next book and read the title I laughed so loudly that Sayde poked her head in through the door. "I'm okay!" She smiled and left me alone. I coughed semi-dramatically and said, " _Alice in Wonderland_." Every kid knew this story and it was just what I needed. An easy read after the excitement of _The Hobbit_ and _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. Oh boy was I wrong!

I must have slammed the cover and put the book down ten times or more as I constantly examined what was happening in the story, trying to gain an insight as to why Missus Maize had given it to me, until I came to the conclusion that I, like Alice, was looking at things the wrong way and I'd have to lose myself to the madness of Wonderland to be able to enjoy it. When I stopped looking for the meaning and started to read the story I was once again lost in time and space.

As I put it down I took a look around, if I didn't have a clock in the room I would have had no idea what time of day it was. There was a dirty dinner plate on the stand but I didn't remember eating one bite. It seemed that I too had been caught up in the Queen of Hearts' land! I blinked and pinched myself to make sure that I was back in the real world and sat wondering what on earth it was all about.

My eyes were tired and my body craved rest so I relaxed back onto my pillow and gave into the peacefulness of sleep. And I didn't remember dreaming at all.

Twelve

The next thing I knew Saturday morning was upon me and I only had one more day and a morning left to read the last book. As soon as Sayde finished making sure my vitals were still good I dragged myself into the bathroom, ran my fingers through my greasy hair and examined my face in the mirror. Being cooped up in the hospital hadn't been kind and I had developed another three spots on my chin and one on my nose. I scrubbed my face and squeezed each one and, much to my dismay, yellow goop came out of one zit on my chin. It was disgusting! I tried to wash my hair but not being able to use a shower or a bath didn't make the task easy. I overbalanced twice during operation degrease and nearly fell on my butt. Lastly, I cleaned what was left of my teeth and examined the gap in the mirror, it wasn't pretty and I promised myself that school and the library were going to be the only places I would be going until my grownup teeth dropped into place. The last thing I wanted to do was run into Daisy out of school time!

I made it back to my room and sat in the armchair with the last book on my lap. I hadn't looked at the cover yet, and as I turned it over to face me I closed my eyes and ran my hand over the cover. This had to be Daisy's favourite. I gritted my teeth and looked down, _Romeo and Juliet_. I quickly flipped over the cover and searched for the message but my heart sunk when I found nothing. I dropped the book into my lap and rubbed my aching eyes, I'd read four books on the promise that one of the five was Daisy's favourite and I felt cheated. I shook my head but when I recalled Missus Maize's words she never mentioned that Daisy had written anything at all, she only told me one of them was her favourite. What an idiot I am!

Well I'd enjoyed all the others and there was nothing more to be done than finish the last one. I opened up the book and began to read.

***

Dad picked me up in the car the next day but I hadn't yet finished the tale of the star-crossed lovers. When I got home Mum had made steak and chips with a runny egg for me and I sat in silence, eating. I heard Mum whisper to Dad, "Ask him Jim."

"Ask me what?" I said dreamily.

"Did they give you drugs to take?"

"No why?"

"Because you seem so zonked out. What's going on with you?"

I tried to look as reassuring as possible, "I'm just tired, don't worry I'm fine."

"I thought hospitals were supposed to be a place where you come out feeling better, not worse."

I shrugged, "I'm good I promise. I just need a bath and my bed if that's okay."

"No bath James, not with that thing on your leg." I groaned. "But I reckon we can tie a dustbin bag around it and you can hang it outside the tub while you take a shower."

"Mum, you just saved my life!"

True to her word she wrapped my leg up like a side of pork being delivered for a Christmas Eve feast and helped me balance from the safety of the other side of the shower curtain. "Don't worry James I can close my eyes," she said, as I attempted to clean my man parts. If those parts could blush they would join the rest of my face.

I climbed out, wrapped a towel around my waist, told Mum she could open her eyes and thanked her for helping while she peeled off the rubbish bag from my cast. At last I was clean all over and I felt human again. I hugged her, "Love you Mum," and hopped off to my room.

"Love you James."

I struggled to get my underpants on and didn't even bother with my pyjama bottoms before I grabbed the book and settled in to read the last part of the story. When I finished I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Stories were supposed to be happy, weren't they? But maybe that was the point, not everything works out how it's supposed to. I heard a car pull up outside the front of the house and hoisted myself up to look out of my window. It was a beige Volvo and my heart sunk as Daisy Maize climbed out and was escorted into the Jenkins household on the arm of my arch nemesis. Life sucks, love sucks and you could stuff it all! I lay down and closed my eyes, but Daisy's lovely smile wouldn't leave me alone and I tossed and turned for hours.

Thirteen

"So young man, no school?" Missus Maize said as she answered my knock on her door the next day.

I looked down at my leg, "I only just got over here. You busy?"

"Never too busy for you James Fisher. C'mon in, I'll put the kettle on." Autumn was nearly upon us, and a cold wind blew over the mudflats whipping up tiny pieces of shale into a hundred mini dust devils as I hobbled into the shack and closed the door. "Wait in the front room and feed Mr Poe please, he's been moaning all morning."

I unhooked my bag from my shoulder and left it in the passage by the door. Mr Poe seemed to be waiting for me and I locked eyeball to eyeball with the crow, but he pretended to have no interest in my stare and went back to cawing and shuffling up and down his perch. I filled his bowl with seeds and made sure he had water before sitting as best I could on Missus Maize's dining room chairs. There was an old armchair in the corner of the room that would have been more comfortable, but that meant leaving myself open for the mad crow to attack me from the side if he felt the need to do so. Rather safe than sorry.

Missus Maize put the tea tray on the table and sat down, one cube of sugar went into each cup followed by the tea and then the milk. She pushed one over to me and dragged the other toward her. "Which one?" she asked and looked down her nose at me.

"One?"

"Which book did you choose to read? I take it you did read one?"

"Yeah..." was this some sort of trap?

"So...which one?" I could see the genuine curiousness in her eyes and relaxed.

"All of them."

She examined me like a professor would examine a tiny object under a microscope, "You read them all?"

"I thought that's why you gave me them."

"Every page of every one?"

"Yes."

"In a week?"

This was getting frustrating and so I gave her my summary of each book as she sat and sipped tea while she listened. Not once did she stop me as I went from story to story, giving her my opinion of each and why I thought she'd chosen each of them for me to read. I even went so far as to explain that Daisy was my Juliet but I was most certainly wasn't her Romeo, in fact I wasn't even her Paris. And that the book never made any sense to me in the context of Daisy Maize. "How could there be a love story when only one side of the pair loved the other anyway?" Missus Maize just sat and seemed to ponder everything I had told her. Her eyes flitted to the bookcase and back to me before she made up her mind and presented me with another book. "You want me to read? You're much better than me Missus Maize. I'm crap at voices and all that stuff."

"I want you to read in your head but I'm going to test you so I want you to go as fast as you can okay?"

"Okay. You want me to read the whole thing?"

"No, just ten minutes at a time."

I shrugged "Sure, why not?"

She looked at the clock on the wall and held up her hand. I opened the book, flicked through the title page and chapter list and focused on the first letter of the first word. My eye saw her hand lower to the table and I started reading as fast as I could go until she said stop ten minutes later. "What's the page number?" I answered and she jotted down a number on a pad of paper that she kept next to the phone. "Again, ready?" I nodded and fixed my eyes on the first word of the paragraph that I had stopped on. The hand went down and the ten minutes ticked around the clock. "Stop." She jotted down the number and said, "Again, ready?"

"Yup." The hand came down and I read once more.

When I'd finished she looked at the page and then back to me, "Tell me about what you read." I went into as much detail as I could about Mowgli and Bagheera as they travelled together through the jungle and as I finished my eyes went back to the book, hungry to read on. "Slow down there Neddy. What do you reckon a normal person does when they read a book?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Then let's look at this another way, you read five books in a week. Many of those books had words that you didn't know, am I right?" I nodded. "Did you get a dictionary and find out what they meant?"

"No, I..."

"Did you ask anyone what they meant?" she continued without letting me speak. I shook my head again, "Why?"

"Hospitals don't have libraries and the nurses are busy."

She laughed, "I bet they are. Did you need to?"

"No, I didn't." I knew that the next why was coming and my mind frantically tried to come up with the word to describe why I didn't need to know what the big words meant. Finally I said, "The words don't really matter."

"I know a thousand authors who would disagree with that James Fisher."

"That's not really what I meant, _urgh_ ..."

"Take your time and think it through."

"The words on their own don't matter, it's the way they are joined and the shapes they make that help me feel what they mean. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Complete sense actually. Reading is measured in the amount of words a person can read in a minute. I won't bore you with the details but most people read at between two hundred and three hundred words per minute and remember only a percentage of what they read. What do you think your speed is?"

I did my version of the maths, "Well I'm average so about two hundred and fifty odd."

She shook her head, "Nope."

My heart was beating fast and I was torn between thinking I was way worse or better than the average, "Oh c'mon Missus Maize tell meeee...please."

"You really want to know?"

"You're killing me!"

"One thousand three hundred and, without checking properly, you have a comprehension of probably eighty percent. Which makes you a savant."

I sat and thought about what that meant for a moment, "So I can read a little faster than most people."

"No James, faster than nearly everyone...in the entire world. Most people have to practice for years to get even close to you and none of them have recall like you're showing."

"Oh," was all I could muster.

***

I found myself hobbling next to Missus Maize as she hustled her way around the pavements on the way to our house. I had a feeling that something was happening and I wasn't sure if it was good or bad, "Slow down, I do have a broken leg."

"Man up Mister Fisher, I need to see your mum."

"Am I in trouble?"

She stopped and I nearly toppled over, "No you most certainly are not but it's important I speak with her so get your butt into gear." We made it safely through the hole in the wall and several local kids watched us as we crossed the car park and into our back garden. "When we get inside go to your room and do not spy, got it?" I nodded as I opened the backdoor and shouted for Mum. Missus Maize waited outside.

"C'mon in Missus Maize," Mum said when she saw the old woman standing in the cold wind, "James what have you done this time?"

"Can't stop Mum, Missus Maize wants to speak to you." I climbed up the stairs one hop at a time and sat in my room. As the minutes ticked by and the two of them talked in the lounge my eyes scanned for something to read, but only a copy of 2000AD caught my attention and that definitely wouldn't satisfy my new hunger for books. I took to hobbling around my tiny piece of privacy and tried my hardest not to listen in on their conversation, but the not knowing what was going on was driving me nuts.

I had no idea how long they kept me in the torture of ignorance for, but as soon as I heard Mum shout my name I scooted down the stairs on my ass and hopped into the lounge. "And?"

"Don't be so rude James!"

"Sorry Mum," I took a deep breath. "What do you think?"

"James sit down please." Missus Maize said, in that _no arguments acceptable_ voice. I folded myself into the armchair next to the gas fire that Dad always claimed when he was home from work. "There are a few reasons that this may have happened to you. Have you always been able to read that fast?"

"I dunno, I never tried before."

"Think back to your English classes, how did you feel about reading then?"

"Never did any, it was always verb this and adjective that. Pretty boring really."

"You never read a single book?"

"No, the teacher would read and we would have worksheets but it was all just so boring and the lessons took forever."

"There was that one book you used to read to me James," Mum said.

"Out loud?" Missus Maize asked.

"Yes."

"That doesn't count." Missus Maize shook her head. "Then there's no way to tell if this is a result of the fall or your natural God-given talent."

"I don't get it."

"There is a study that says that there is a condition that can be caused by a blow to the head. The injury can produce side effects such as mental enhancements. Your fall could have caused such a condition."

"So, I'm mad?"

"Don't be silly James. You may just be naturally gifted but you need to be checked out by a quack." That was Missus Maize's name for a doctor.

Mum spoke up, "So this condition, is it there for life?"

"Not much's known about it. I only know about it because...we had a similar thing happen."

"Oh, and what happened?" I asked.

"Never mind young Mister Fisher!"

I must have hit a real nerve with the Bird Witch, she never normally snapped at me like that and I backed away as quickly as I could. "Sorry."

"Was the boy checked for a concussion?"

"Yes of course and they did x-rays and all sorts of other tests. Everything was normal. He even saw a psychiatrist."

It was my time to snap, "Mum! That's private!"

Missus Maize looked at me, "Shrink eh? Seen my fair share of those James Fisher so don't you go getting your knickers in a twist. I don't need the details I'm just trying to cover all our bases." I nodded but for some reason I felt ashamed at having to speak to the doc. The old woman turned her attention back to Mum, "Well the way I see it is this, the boy has a gift and whether it fell out of the sky or whether he crawled out of the womb with it makes no never mind. Question is what to do with him now. He can't stay in that average class that's for sure, well not for English anyway. Get his maths checked and the rest of the rubbish they teach these days and then make sure he has access to things that can help him. You want to know what I think?" Mum nodded. "I think that one gift was taken from the boy and in return another was bestowed."

My running gone and my reading enhanced, was that a fair swap? I don't think so! "What do you say Mum?"

"I think I need to speak with your dad."

And with that the next two weeks of my life turned into a circus of tests that were easy, doctors that poked me and took pictures of the inside of my head, and a new school plan. I was to be taken out of my class for English and I was to join the advanced class with the rest of the nerds. Once again, my street credibility hit rock bottom but I did have one stabilizing factor, Shaz, who stood by my side without asking one stupid question. When I felt down she picked me up, when I needed to go somewhere she went with me, and when no one else wanted to listen to my moaning she never once waivered. I'd found a true friend.

***

After what seemed like an eternity all the testing was done with and I got back into my normal life. I hadn't been to school since I broke my leg and I was now pretty nimble even with the cast. I refused to use the stupid crutches and when they tried to insist I stood my ground stating quite categorically that I may be mad in the head but I wasn't a cripple. My teeth were still nowhere to be seen and the urges kept coming back when I least expected them to. A few people in the head hospital had noticed on occasion but they just smiled as I blushed and tried to hide my hormone induced hard on.

My new English class was next Monday and I had one last chance to save the rest of the class from the Friday detention and I was torn, I could make matters worse. It took all of my will power to keep quiet during the class and not challenge Mertens, but I managed it and when the bell rung he surprised me by sending everyone home, only keeping me back. And as the last bag hit the side of the classroom door silence descended on the room. I pulled a book from my bag and tried to relax into the metal-framed school chair.

"Put the book away Fisher."

_Oh c'mon! At least let me do this my way_ , "Yes sir." There was really no point in arguing; in twenty minutes from now I'd be rid of him forever.

"So, you're going to join my advanced class are you?"

_No!_ "Yes sir," I was distraught.

"I'm told you have Savant Syndrome, I apologise for my actions earlier this year, I never knew about your condition."

_Damn right you are! Wait...what?_ "Thank you, Sir?" I said confused.

"I didn't believe that you'd read Steinbeck. I've never taught a learner of your age that could even read _Of Mice and Men_ , let alone understand the story line. I thought maybe you'd seen the movie or read your brother's report and that you were trying to get the class out of work. And I couldn't have that."

I wasn't sure why he thought it was important to apologise to me but eh, I'll take it.

"We start on Monday and I'll make sure all of your classmates in this class get home on time for the rest of the term. After that it's up to them." He paused. "Have you had a chance to think about how this will affect the rest of your schooling?" I scrunched up my nose and waited for him to continue, "I've seen your test results and they're impressive to say the least. It's not your reading skills that make you different, it's your comprehension." I'd been tested properly and it recorded at eighty-nine percent. "I was wondering how long you can retain that information. Do you mind if we test it as the year progresses?"

_Hang on a moment; he's a teacher asking me if something's okay to do, what the hell is going on here?_ "Sure."

"Good, do you have ten minutes?"

"Ummm, yes I guess so. And this isn't detention?"

"No."

"And if I say no I can just leave?"

"Yes."

"Then I have ten minutes Sir."

I saw Mertens smile for the first time. "I've written a few questions down about the book and I'd like your opinion."

_He'd like MY opinion!_ "Okay I'll try." His questions were simple and I answered each one with as much detail as I could find words for, which, to be honest, isn't that many when you're twelve.

"One last question, when was the last time you read that book?"

"I never read it, Missus Maize read it to me."

"Amazing. Good job Fisher, I'll see you on Monday and I'll introduce you to the rest of the gang. And Fisher, think about what this means for the rest of your schoolwork and let me know on Monday okay?"

"Sure." _He has a gang?_ No teacher had ever said anything like that to me. Only my coaches spoke like that, well they used to. Maybe Missus Maize was right, maybe I'd lost one skill and gained another. I grabbed my bag and limped out of the class and as I started the long trek to the bus stop Shaz fell into step beside me.

"Bastard kept you back?"

I nodded but the man wasn't the bastard that I once thought he was, well not to me anyway but that didn't make it right either.

***

Over that weekend Missus Maize introduced us to the dark and frightening world of Bram Stoker's Dracula and after it was finished on the Sunday afternoon I was a bag of nerves. It was by far the scariest thing I had ever heard but nevertheless I was definitely going to be looking at his other works on my trips to the library, and if they didn't have any I would have to boss Mum into taking me to the city library next to the Guildhall.

I never slept much on the Sunday night as three things bothered me: firstly, there was the business of the blood-sucking vampire that may or may not be hiding in my closet, secondly the bloodthirsty vampire that could be stalking Daisy and thirdly the comment by Mertens about the rest of my schoolwork.

Even though I knew that I could do little against the Transylvanian bloodsucker his story kept wandering back into my thoughts just as I managed to drop off. It was no good, I switched on my bedside lamp and picked up the copy of Moby Dick I'd taken out of the library yesterday. As the pages turned I found myself reading and thinking about school all at the same time. It was like I could think in the background as my eyes soaked up the story.

If Mertens was right, and I'm going with that I think he is, then school would be different. After careful consideration I came to the same result. It stands to reason that school really is all about retaining information and the speed at which that information is delivered is up to the teachers. No wonder I had found it boring, it was just way too slow for me. So why had my tests been so average in the past? The only reason I could think of was that I just didn't care about the work. But that's all changed and that's going to lead to problems.

As I slept that night I dreamed about being pulled apart into small pieces as teachers, doctors and all manner of grownups tried to get hold of a piece of me.

I woke up with a start. It was still dark outside so I turned on the light and went back to reading Herman Melville's classic, but my heart just wasn't in it.

Breakfast was all doom and gloom. I was in a bad mood and tired, and Mum warned me with her whispers that Sean had broken up with Sophie Turner and I wasn't to bother him. We both sat in silence eating our concrete oatmeal and when we lied to Mum that we were full we went our separate ways. Same school or not, brothers of different ages could always find a way not to be around one another. I was first out the door and caught the early bus with Shaz, and as we chatted about Count Dracula the rest of the world disappeared and it was only the two of us. Kinger may be my best friend but Shaz was my confidant. "I have to go to that bloody special class today."

"You'll like it actually."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know stuff that you don't."

I smiled at her, "So c'mon spill the beans."

"Nah, find out for yourself. You won't shut up about it later today trust me on that!"

There was no time to question her further as the school honed into sight. I hopped up and pressed the black plastic strip on the roof that rang the bell for the bus to stop, slowly made my way down the aisle using the metal hand rails on the back of the seats as support, and waited for the doors in the middle of the bus to open. In hindsight, I should have gone last because there were a lot of us and it was only a timely intervention from Shaz that saved me from being knocked over and trampled on. I brushed myself down and picked up my oversized bag, "Shot Dot!" That's thank you in twelve-year-old speak. She just smiled and we found Kinger, took up our normal position on the lookout and watched the world go by without so much as saying a word.

I'd been ribbed pretty badly when Mister Manning told the rest of the class that I'd be going to special English. Some of the dolts thought it was a backward class and made stupid idiot noises at me until someone put them right and they all burst out laughing. Backward class may have actually been better received by my peers. They called me several names and threw balls of paper at me with words like SPAZ written on them but I took it all it in jest and threw them back.

Pod snuck up next to me, "Comrade! Come and see me at lunch, I have something for you. Viva la revolution!" and he was gone again. Kinger looked at me and made a mad face and we both burst out laughing.

My English class was up first that day and as Mister Manning told me to go I was pelted with paper and abuse as I left the class. The room I needed to go to was right next door to the headmaster's rooms and I'd only ever seen the area from a distance. If you were a boy like me, the only time you'd normally be there was for the cane, but as I gingerly climbed the twelve stairs I was greeted by the deputy head, Miss Dumbah. "Hi," I said and gave her a weak wave of my hand. This whole experience was just too strange and it was weirding me out. I turned around and thought about making a run for it but Mertens was just behind me.

"Good morning James."

_James? Had I woken up in a parallel universe? Had the world gone mad?_ I tried to smile and gave another weak grin, "Morning."

"Nervous?"

"Um, yeah I guess so."

"Well, try to relax okay," he was actually being nice to me. "Read anything this weekend?"

" _Moby Dick_ , and Missus Maize read Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ to us."

"Us?"

"Yeah me and my friend Shaz."

"You're a bit young for a girlfriend, aren't you?"

"She's just a friend Sir," I really didn't want to get into a conversation with Mertens about most things, let alone my relationships!

"Very well, let's get you up there and introduce you to the rest of the class, shall we?"

I nodded and followed him into the classroom and grabbed the seat at the end of the last row closest to the door. It was a well-lit room with large windows on one side that looked out over the playground and sports fields. The back wall and the other side were made up of bookshelves filled with fiction and nonfiction of all sorts. The wall behind where Mertens stood was a huge chalk board and to my dismay he was busy writing my name in huge white letters. "Morning class, I'd like you all to welcome our newest member, James Fisher. He's here because..." As Mertens went into my skill set I set my bag by my side and sank into my seat, totally embarrassed. There were eight others in the class, six with their backs to me and two to my right. I focused on the bookshelves not wanting to engage any of them. "Mister Fisher would you like to add anything?"

_Hell no!_ I ventured a smile and shook my head.

"Anyone else like to check in?" The room was silent. "Very good, today I want to talk to you about Shakespeare..."

I listened as Mertens launched himself into his lesson and I must admit I was engaged straight away, the man certainly had a great deal of knowledge on the subject. I could hear the others scribbling away on note pads as he chatted away. I panicked, was I supposed to be taking notes? I rummaged through my bag and found a semi-chewed pen and a book the home economics teacher had given us to write recipes down in. I had no need of such a thing and the book had never been written in. As I made notes I became frustrated as my penmanship was way too slow for my thought process and it was just a total waste of time. I stopped and went back to listening.

Mertens was one of those roaming teachers who walked and talked and used his hands to express his feelings. It was like watching a talking windmill but what came out of his mouth was fascinating. After an hour he called for a break, and I was shocked to hear a tea trolley being brought into the class. The other kids just packed away their books and sat chatting. It was at that point that I had a good look at who else was with me in that class. I sat silently sussing each of them out in turn. The six in front were complete strangers to me but I'd recognized the outline of the boy's face that sat three seats down to my left, it was my nemesis from across the street. _So, this is a mixed year class!_ From what I could make out I was the only first year amongst second, third and even fourth years. I felt a little out of my depth, how was I ever going to keep up with fourth years? They were all so smart and mature, and I'm just a kid.

For a while there I was starting to enjoy the class but now that I knew Jenkins was here I hated it and wanted nothing more than to run away. And then I didn't. From behind his ugly fat head I saw a blonde ponytail bounce up and down and my heart skipped a beat. I gasped aloud, Jenkins looked my way and as he did her angelic face came into view. Daisy Maize. No wonder Shaz said I wouldn't shut up on the way home, she knew Daisy was in the class and she didn't tell me! You wait Shaz! She turned her head and I quickly looked away but it was no good and I had to look back. Our last interaction hadn't gone that well at all and I needed to get it right this time.

"Hiya Daisy." _Hiya? Is that the best I could do? Get it together man!_

"Hello James Fisher." She stood and walked toward me, "Do you mind?"

_No, I most certainly did not_ , "Ummm."

"I need to get past you."

She smiled at me, she actually smiled at me. I jumped up as quickly as my broken leg would allow and moved my chair out of her way. "Sorry."

"No need James and welcome to the class by the way."

"Cool, thanks. Yeah." _I am a spaz to highest degree._

"You're so funny," she said as she passed me and headed out the door.

The rest of the kids were tucking into the tea and biscuits and since I was the smallest I had to wait and have the leftovers, which was still better than what the rest of the school would be getting. Mertens came wandering over to where I stood on my own. "So, what do you think?" he asked.

I wiped my chin with my sleeve and nodded, "Better than I thought."

"Good, I was hoping you would fit in and I think it's going to be okay. I saw you gave up on taking notes."

"I'm too slow."

"If you can't write fast enough, I can slow down a bit."

"It's not you Sir, I'm too slow for me and to be honest I can remember better if I don't make notes. I've tried that method and I just spend half the time trying to work out what I wrote down in the first place. Just cause I'm not writing doesn't mean I'm not paying attention Sir."

"I know that," he pulled out a chair from a desk next to where I stood and sat down so we were eye to eye, "but the rest of the class don't and they'll be sceptical about you. When we get to the question and answer part, I hope you'll join in."

"You want me to show them that I'm listening, got it. No problem Sir."

He laughed, "I wish the rest of the world saw things like you James. No, what I meant was join in. When we talk we debate, and everyone has a voice. You know what a debate is?"

"An argument?"

"Sort of, only one where there's no emotion. We listen and then talk about the ideas that come up. When we study the classics, the stories can be perceived in many ways, and in so, there can be more than one correct answer. A debate can sometimes get heated, but in this room we are scholars and not playground thugs."

"Okay I think I got it. Sir?"

"Yes James."

"Do I have to prove myself to the rest of them then?"

"Do you think that you have to?"

"They're all older than me and they've been here longer so I think they probably look down on me."

"Have you asked them?"

"No."

"So, who is it that thinks they look down on you? Is it you or them?"

"I guess it's me but that doesn't mean they don't though."

"No it doesn't, but there is only one way to find out. Talk to them." He stood up, smiled and left me alone wondering what I was going to do, but I was saved by the bell and all the kids, including the love of my life, filed back into the room and took their seats. I'd never been in a quadruple set of lessons before but the time flew by, and as Mertens spoke about Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ I must admit I felt pretty comfortable in the class. He took questions as he went and fielded them by asking other people's views. Me? I just sat there and soaked it all up.

Mertens took a deep breath and launched into what he called Hamlet's first soliloquy, another word to look up later! I heard Jenkins say, "Here we go again," and snigger. Daisy didn't reply and I shook my head at his childish behaviour, even though only this morning I was throwing papers balls back at the other kids in my class.

I don't know what it is about that classroom and Mertens speaking, but it made me feel different somehow. I focused on his voice and closed my eyes. The words washed over me and I tried to listen to them individually, but that made no sense and so just let my feelings do the job instead. As the teacher finished his reading I opened my eyes and nodded. Mertens was staring straight at me and nodded back.

"So, let's look at the first line and you can tell me what you think it means. _O that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve into a dew!_ Now keep in mind that Hamlet was depressed that his father was dead."

Jenkins was the first to raise his hand, "He wants to kill himself because he's depressed."

"Good." I must have looked confused. "You want to add anything James?"

I took a deep breath and thought _screw it I'm going to go for it_ , "I think Jenkins is close Sir, but Hamlet also knew he couldn't commit suicide even though he wanted to. I think he's just complaining about it."

Mertens raised his eyebrows, "Correct James and very astute."

Another word to look up! "He said that the world was an unweeded garden Sir, and I think he wants to be the person to uproot the weeds. And I think he blames his mother for getting married so quickly."

" _Frailty, thy name is woman."_

"Exactly sir, he says even a beast would have waited longer."

Hands flew up around the room and only Daisy's remained, rested lightly on the table. Mertens searched the room with his eyes trying to decide on who he would let enter the debate, "Miss Maize what are your views on the subject?"

She sat regally in her seat as all eyes fell upon her and she licked her lips, _I just want to kiss those lips_. "James Fisher is correct in his analysis Mister Mertens. Hamlet was indeed depressed and considered suicide but he knew that he had to carry on, and even that didn't stop him bemoaning the point. And he did blame his mother, as she wed even before he returned home from Germany to attend his father's funeral."

"Excellent."

The bell went for lunchtime but no one budged an inch, not even me. "We meet again on Wednesday, same time, same place. Please read the entire play and be ready to present one of Hamlet's seven soliloquies. That's all class, great work today everyone."

I couldn't believe that this was the same Mertens who used to glare at us like a vicious dog waiting for someone to throw him a bone. This man had issues but as long as they weren't my issues I didn't care. As the rest of the class left I stood admiring the books on the wooden shelves. "They're all yours James, just replace them when you're finished. There's a register on my desk where you can sign them out. I have to get to class but take your time and close up when you're done." And with that he was gone and I was alone, or so I thought.

"My gran told me you had a gift James Fisher."

I spun around on my plastered leg and came face to face with Daisy, "Oh." I swallowed hard and I felt trapped, "Great." I looked at my feet.

"Are you scared of me or something?"

"No, no, not at all." I met her stare and I swear my heart was close to bursting out of my chest.

"Then chill out. Every time I see you you're like a puppy running all over the place tripping over your tongue. You deserve to be here and I'm just a girl so get over it."

She sounded just like Missus Maize. So forceful and so straight to the point, why couldn't I be more like that? "Sorry."

She shook her head, "Maybe if you did something to be sorry about, your use of the word would make sense. My gran tells me you could be a genius and yet all I see is a scared boy. So, what are you James Fisher?"

Straight to the point, "I'm neither. I'm just a kid trying to find my place around here."

She looked me up and down, "Tuck your shirt in and be proud of who you are. I've been in this class for over a year and you are the first one that has actually made me think about something and that, James Fisher, is a rare thing indeed. So, what are you going to recite on Wednesday?"

"I'm going to have to read the play first."

"You're trying to tell me that you understood Hamlet's mindset just by what you heard today?"

"No, but I could tell how he felt about it from the words he spoke."

"Oh, well that's a different approach. Can I recommend one for you?"

"Sure," I said brightening up. _I'll do anything for you_.

"Try number four. It's the best known one but I'd like to hear your views on what he was saying." She passed me her copy of the play and I just stood and stared at the plastic handmade cover. "You really are a strange one James Fisher," she said, and left me standing there looking like the spaz I was.

"You have no idea," I said under my breath.

***

I must have read that play eight times or more before Wednesday came around, and Shaz had got so bored of hearing number four that she put her fingers in her ears as I launched into _To be or not to be_ for the umpteenth time.

"Do we have to do this again?" she asked as we sat on the bus. I smiled and just carried on with the recital. Several people on the bus sat listening and a small round of applause broke out when I had finished, much to my dismay, and as the blush crept up my face we climbed off the bus two stops early. With Shaz's help we walked the rest of the way to school.

The kids in the class had moved on to mock someone else and I sat quietly as the nervous butterflies started their migratory flight around my innards. Pod crept up and pushed a cassette in front of me. "What's this?" I asked.

"It's the future comrade. Viva la revolution!" And he left me looking at the grey casing that enveloped the brown tape. There was no writing to tell me what was recorded. Only a red A partially encased in a red circle adorned the otherwise plain shell.

"It's anarchy comrade," Kinger said, doing his best Pod impersonation. We both laughed hysterically.

The bell rang and my classmates slowly walked out, it was swimming for them but not for me! I fought against the tide of kids going to their lessons, each one of them seemed to be going in exactly the opposite direction to where I was going, and I wondered if Hamlet felt this way when his life was spiralling out of control.

I climbed the stairs and slipped into my chair just as Mertens started welcoming everyone to the lesson. He had drawn the numbers one to seven vertically on the side of the chalkboard and some of the class had already chosen their order to present the soliloquy in. To my surprise my name was next to four and Daisy's next to five. I looked at her but Jenkins' big head was in the way. As if she could sense me she leaned back and said, "You ready?"

"Yes, and good morning."

"Good morning James Fisher." She leant forward and disappeared behind the big head.

"So, let's begin," Mertens said when all seven positions were filled in with names. First up was a girl that fell over her words and messed up most of the pauses. Her voice sounded like a scratched record and all meaning to what Hamlet alluded to was lost. Mertens held up his hand as she finally managed to finish. "I think we exhausted the meaning to this part on Monday so let's move onto the second."

This time it was Jenkins' turn and he did a fairly good job. After a short debate, we moved onto the third which was acted out very dramatically by a girl that sat in the front row and chewed frantically on her pencil whenever Mertens spoke. _Teacher's pet_.

The bell went for break and the tea trolley dutifully rolled into the class and was left at the front. Daisy and Jenkins were off in the corner speaking and I was left staring at the lines of books. Shakespeare was great but I needed something else, something to challenge my imagination and take me into another world entirely. I picked up a copy of War of the Worlds and lovingly ran my hand over the front cover before putting it on the side of my desk. "Good choice," said the pen-chewing teacher's pet.

"Thanks. You read it?"

"Ages ago. It's a great story but I didn't really like the ending."

I stuck my fingers in my ears and said, "Lololololololololololo," until she had finished speaking.

"What are you doing?" she pulled one of my arms away.

"No spoilers!"

"I wasn't going to tell you, you're such a child James Fisher."

"Wait, I'm sorry." But she'd walked away in a huff. "And I'm the kid?" She heard me and turned around and poked her tongue out at me. "Whatever."

I turned to go back to my seat but Mertens called me over, "You ready for number four?" I nodded. "Good because it's the most important one and I want you to get it right."

"No pressure then."

He smiled, "Well maybe a little bit but if you want to earn their respect now's your chance."

I wasn't sure if that was the reason I was doing this but it seemed like a good idea. If I got this right maybe they would accept me. "Let's do this."

He called everyone to their seats and I stood at the front with my head held high and my chin shoved out, and as they became quiet and all eyes were on me I closed my eyes and spoke.

When I finished there was silence. I stood there nervous as hell as eyes bore into mine, including those of Daisy and Mertens. "I'm finished." Daisy clapped and the rest of the room joined in.

As the short-lived applause died off Mertens asked me if I'd care to lead the debate, I shrugged and nodded, "This is Hamlet once again contemplating suicide. He wonders which of the two alternatives, life or death, would be the best choice for him. He thinks that maybe death might be the end of all his troubles but then realises that no one has ever come back from death so maybe death could be just a continuance. At least in life you can sleep, whereas in the afterlife sleep may not even be possible and there would be no escaping your troubles at all. He also speaks of _we_ , which he doesn't normally do, the _we_ , in my opinion, is everyone else in the world that has had those dark thoughts. In the shortest form, it's a debate about what happens after death because he knows that if he avenges the death of the ghost, he is sure to join it." I'd practiced this speech a hundred times in my mind and for once my mouth and brain worked in conjunction with each other.

Mertens just nodded, "Very well put James." He faced the class, "Any questions?"

Daisy put up her hand. "Yes Miss Maize."

"I want to know what James Fisher thinks Hamlet should do after the debate."

I thought for a while before answering her, "There is no answer to the debate about the afterlife, so you either believe or you don't. Hamlet's fate is written into the story so what I think he should do is neither here nor there."

"So, you wouldn't change the story so everyone lives happily ever after?"

Why did I feel that this was a trap? "Hamlet isn't a fairy tale, it's a tragedy. It's perfectly written and I could not and would not change one single word." Daisy nodded and Mertens asked me to go back to my seat.

"Miss Maize you're up next but I wouldn't want to follow that if I were you."

Daisy stood up with the confidence of a queen and the grace of a gazelle and walked proudly to the front, "I asked James to go before me because I knew he would make the rest of the class want for more."

She began to speak the fifth and as her lips moved so did mine, and every word was perfect and spoken with just the right emphasis, and the passion shone through and eclipsed everything else in the room. If I was good she was brilliant, and I felt humbled by her delivery and embarrassed by my untimely urge.

"Questions class?" Mertens paused and I so wanted to put up my hand but failed miserably as I fumbled, trying to hide my unwanted growth. "Thank you, Miss Maize. Number six up we come." The last two were delivered with much less verve and enthusiasm and as we debated the meaning of what Hamlet was saying, I found that I could hold my own with the rest of the class. In some cases, they would listen to me and offer no argument, which I found frustrating. It was time to throw a stick into the spoke of the class wheel as it calmly went around in circles. I held up my hand to offer a controversial comment as the lunch bell rang out, and I cursed my luck.

"Well done today class, but before you go I have a challenge for each of you. I want you each to write a soliloquy of your own on whatever subject you wish. Then it will be up to the rest of the class to explore the feelings of the narrator. And I suggest you take a leaf out of Hamlet and think carefully about why he felt it necessary to fill in the gaps for the audience. See you on Friday, and class, this is a challenge, so _Cry havoc! And unleash the dogs of war_." He had an almost rabid look to his eyes, but I understood the man better than before, he wasn't mad or rabid, he was passionate to the point of madness. And I liked him.

Well the rest of the week's lessons were a total waste of time as my mind was on one thing only, winning the soliloquy challenge. I had so much material to pull from, my accident and the fortunate side effects, my fight with Meesh and subsequent friendship with Shaz, my new-found love of literature and music, Missus Maize and the court case, but none of it worked for me. They were all my past and my soliloquy needed to be about the question of my future and one particular blonde-haired, ponytailed genius. I worked hard trying to perfect a meaningful but vague monologue and even Shaz helped without moaning, although she struggled with the concept. A quick trip to the main library helped. They had a room that you could book to watch movies and I took Shaz along to watch Hamlet, and even though I had to explain a lot she seemed to enjoy it.

Friday rolled around and I paced up and down as best I could while we waited for the bus, "Relax James, you're going to do fine."

"I've never ever been as nervous as this. If I get it wrong I'll be the laughing stock of the whole group!"

"I doubt it. From what you've told me some of them are way worse than you."

Shaz didn't have the best way with words but she was always right about things in a down to earth way. I had to man up and get it done. I looked her in the eyes and smiled my best manic smile, "I'm going to kick ass!"

"Yeah you are!"

***

I drew on every inch of courage I had as I walked to the front of the class for my turn, four others had gone before me and crashed and burned badly. No one had teased them or given them a hard time; this wasn't one of those groups of people. If you failed here it was a learning point not an affirmation of what a spaz you were. _So why am I always such a bag of nerves?_ And then I looked into the eyes of Daisy Maize and I knew why.

I walked to Mertens' desk and sat on the edge with my feet dangling in the air, and closed my eyes as I tried my hardest to focus every cell in my body on delivering my soliloquy perfectly. My mouth felt dry and my back stiffened. I stretched and rolled my neck, three, it's going to be fine, two, speak clearly and slowly, one...

Silence.

If only I were true, but no.

Eyes burn and fade into shattered time, broken

I dream. Should I cast off childish laughter and embrace calm

Or live in the safety my self-inflicted chaos,

forever wondering?

If I were true

But no

I know you're there,

speaking your tongues that I can barely comprehend

But the screams and sadness

brush past me,

as a ghost falls forever into eternity,

But if I were true?

No, never,

but I want more.

A tear runs down my face and I open my eyes to a new world. My soul was now laid out bare in front of people I hardly knew and I felt naked and very afraid. Their eyes burned into mine but not with hate or jealousy as I thought would be there. I saw...tears? _What?_ I knew my words were good and I knew what it meant and I'd practiced a hundred times but I never expected a response like the one I received. No applause this time, but it wasn't needed. The silence spoke volumes, no one moved or said a word, not even Mertens who sat just staring at me as if I hadn't finished. "I'm done Sir."

"Let's take a break shall we," he said as the girl in the front row blew her nose and held onto her school bag so tightly I thought she was going to run away. "James hang around, will you?" He waited until the others left, "I have to ask a question and I don't want you to get defensive okay?" I shrugged, "Did you or did you not write that?"

"Every single word Sir." I half-expected I would be called out for cheating but when you have nothing to hide words come easy.

"Promise me."

"I don't have to sir, I know I wrote it and I really don't care what anyone else says."

"I believe you James. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Sir. But we haven't done the questions yet."

"We'll get to those after the break. Now go wash your face and hurry back."

I'd forgotten that I'd shed a tear and when you're twelve there is normally more than one. I hobbled out of the room in search of a paper towel.

Mertens brought the class back to order and invited me to come back to the front of the class, "Soooo, comments?" Hands flew into the air. Mertens pointed, but not at Daisy who sat back arms crossed.

"What was it about?" the teacher's pet asked.

I looked at Mertens who just shrugged and gestured for me to take the lead, "Questions lead to questions, what do you think it was about?"

"I don't know you well enough to say, but if I were to guess I'd say you were talking about being poor."

I caught the shake of Daisy's head out of the corner of my eye and an uncomfortable silence descended over the room. I let it settle as I stared into the eyes of someone who had no idea what she was talking about. "No."

I looked for another hand but she wouldn't let it go, "But wait I haven't finished."

"You never started," I snapped. "To some, Hamlet may have seemed to be a person that was just moaning about his misfortune. But that was far from the truth, he was laying his innermost feelings at the feet of every single person who ever heard those words. He wasn't moaning, he was asking himself questions. I'm not moaning about being poor. I love my family and I wouldn't change a thing. Why on earth would I ever do that? You're right, you don't know me at all and until you do, keep away from me."

Mertens coughed, "Let's move on, shall we?"

I chose the next question and waved away a weak guess about my running and the change after my accident. Still no hand from Daisy. The next guess was no better than the last and I was losing patience when she finally asked to speak and I jumped at the chance. "Please."

"You're a complex person James Fisher and I think you've touched on a few things here, but before I go into some thoughts I have to say that I enjoyed listening to and witnessing that reading, well done." I could feel all my blood rushing to my face, no chance of an urge attack! "I made notes, I hope you don't mind." I shook my head; _you can do whatever you want_. "I think this is perfect example of an inner monologue spoken aloud. You open with the word _silence_ , but it wasn't meant for the audience or a comment about what was around you, it was an instruction to yourself to listen. _If only I were true_ , but no, means that there are things within you that even you cannot be honest about and that you'd rather live with that truth than any other."

Her eyes never left mine and it was all I could do to say, "Okay."

"The next part is the subject of your self-confessed lie, a subject that is eating away at your soul. You see yourself as a child, but things change and often you don't want them to. However, if that change doesn't happen then what can come next? Then you dismiss the whole notion and move on. You mention people speaking in tongues that you can barely comprehend; I think this part is about your journey from your past to your present state and the way you deal with your innermost feelings. You were in an accident and that accident caused a major change inside of you, but the change is ongoing, and in your words, _a ghost falls through eternity_. You had help and you pay homage to those people by borrowing from Edgar Allen Poe and adding your own twist."

She stared at me for the longest time, neither of us speaking, neither of us needing to. Whether she realised that the subject of my innermost desire was her didn't matter to me at all. She understood better than I did when I wrote it. She stripped it bare and handed it back to me. And I felt like crap. I said nothing. The walk back to my seat took forever, and no one spoke a word until Mertens finally stood up and called for the next lamb to the slaughter.

Daisy stood up, "One more thing before I start Sir, if you don't mind."

"Very well Miss Maize."

She turned to me, "There is always more James Fisher, for those that want it badly enough."

And with those words I came back from the depths of my confession to the daylight of the classroom.

When Daisy spoke the first word of her soliloquy I felt the rest of the world disappear. She picked the subject of being different and compared herself with a red flag waving in a sea of black, and I couldn't help feeling that I knew how she felt. When she finished, the class applauded and she fielded question after question, but I never asked a single one. I didn't need to. I knew instinctively that she felt out of place in the world and that she just wanted to wrap the flag around herself and hide. There was no way I was going to share that with the rest of the class. No way! When the others had finished with their guessing she looked towards me, but I just smiled.

"Are you sure you have nothing to add James Fisher?"

I wasn't expecting a question and my mind raced to try and think of something to say, but I had nothing other than the truth that I refused to share with the rest of the class.

She waited until she was sure I wouldn't speak and then she repeated my own words, "If only I were true, but no." She had me. I was trapped by my own insecurities. Do I try to defend myself? How could I? They were my words! I just nodded and accepted my fate. "But you want more." She sat down and I stared at the smudges of silly comments that kids long passed through the system had left imprinted on the wooden desk. _Should I cast off childish laughter...urgh_. She made me feel useless and I loved her even more without having a clue why.

***

"Oh, she did, did she? You wait until I see that little lady!" Missus Maize fumed after I told her how Daisy had put me down in class.

"No, it'll just make things worse."

"She gets it from her mother's side you know. I never liked her, she treated my Stan the same, always telling him how bad he was at things. Drove the poor man to an early grave, God rest his soul."

"I'm so sorry Missus Maize, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know, I never told you. It's nothing to do with you James. I'm going to talk with that young madam whether you want me to or not."

"But."

"But me no buts."

"Susanna Centlivre."

"Correct and well-remembered." She seemed to calm down a little. "There is an upside, at least she listened. And you say she said well done?" I nodded and sipped my tea, "Well there's a first. She can be..."

"Matter of fact?"

"A pain in the ass was what I was going to say, but yes, very matter of fact. You have the apology of my entire family."

"I really don't care that much about what she said, but thank you."

"Don't care? You lie James Fisher." As always, she was right.

I'd read her my soliloquy and she'd listened carefully before explaining what it was about right back at me. I was not looking forward to her trying to help me fix my shortcomings, but to my surprise she never bothered to try.

I wanted to change the subject. Shaz wasn't with me, and this had been the first time I'd been at the shack without her since she first joined me and Missus Maize had nearly chased her away. "Can we speak?"

"What else do you think we're doing?"

I sighed, "Sorry I'm just a spaz."

She harrumphed, obviously still annoyed at Daisy. "Continue Spaz."

She made me smile, "Shaz?"

"What about her?"

"She's not happy."

"So?"

I looked at the old lady across the table, "So how can we help her?"

"We?"

"C'mon Missus Maize you know what I mean."

"Oh I do, but what makes you think we can help her? What makes you think she even wants our help?"

"I just thought, well, she's not happy. Isn't it our job to make her happy?"

She raised her eyebrows, "Is it indeed?"

"No, I guess not."

"So it's down to guessing now?"

"Missuuusssss Maize!"

"Relax James I'm just pulling your leg." I let out a sigh. "Shaz has her own problems, the same as you do. I can't speak to you about her issues so let's speak about yours instead." _Oh crap_ , "You insinuated that it's our job to make her happy."

"I meant..."

"I know what you meant! A person's happiness is totally reliant on themselves. I can make you smile and even laugh, but can I make you happy? No. Let's take your issue; you think you're in love with my Daisy."

"I am do not," I opened my mouth and fell over my words.

"Oh, you am do and don't lie to me James Fisher. I know you better than most."

_Oh crap_ , "Whatever."

"And don't be snarky. You put it out there all on your own. It was her eyes burning into you in that class and that vision is shattered by the school bell when the class is over, your connection to her is broken and you are left with only your dreams. Tell me James Fisher, did she tell you that part?"

What was it with this family? I was caught again in the trap of my own words being used against me. " _Urgh_ ..."

"And therein lies the rub James," she said calmly. "You thought you were being smart when you wrote those words, but you were being sneaky and I bet you even congratulated yourself on it didn't you?"

There was nothing left but the bare truth of it, "Yes."

"And how did that work out for you?"

"Until now it was okay."

"And now?"

"Not so much."

The tea in her cup must have gone cold but it didn't seem to bother her. "What you put out into the universe has a way of coming back and kicking you in the ass. If you speak of the deepest things that are the most important to you in front of strangers, understand that you will be judged for it."

"You're not a stranger."

"It wasn't written for me, was it?"

"No."

"And I bet Daisy spoke of flags didn't she."

I looked up startled, "Yeah, how did you know?"

"It's her go to response when she's trying to impress people. She's a clever little Bird Witch is our Daisy." I frowned. "Stands to reason, witching runs in families. So they say. Stands to reason that if I'm a Bird Witch, so is Daisy. Does it not?"

"How would I know?"

"You didn't ask her yet? Ah, so what were you going to say to her when you finally get a minute of her time?"

"I never thought about that either."

"But you've dreamt about it though haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Well now you have a starting point for when she gets here."

"What!"

"Her mum's dropping her off in an hour. You want to go home, brush your hair, shave perhaps, put your Sunday best on?" she kidded.

"Funny!" I half-scolded the old lady. "Is she really coming?"

"Yes she is James Fisher, and I expect you to behave like a gentleman."

"Sure." I said calmly. _What the hell does that mean?_ I screamed on the inside.

***

I hid behind Missus Maize's curtain as Daisy's parents' car rumbled over the dirt that made up the excuse for a road and pulled up outside. The Bird Witch was waiting in the garden, she looked back at her window and she saw me peeking and shook her head. "Bugger off," Mr Poe cawed and I replied in a similar fashion.

Daisy got out, slammed the door shut and ran up the path. I could see she'd been crying, and when she brushed past Missus Maize I panicked at the thought she may find solace in the room that I currently occupied. I froze on the spot and prayed to any God that may happen to be listening to make me disappear. No such luck. Daisy burst into the room and I looked into her bloodshot eyes, but she halted, screamed something incomprehensible at me, and ran up the stairs.

Missus Maize shut the front door and poked her head in, "You okay?"

I was still in shock at being shouted at, "Um, yeah."

"Good, stay here, I'll be back soon. There's plenty to read and if you get bored do not snoop in that old box of records. I think we could use some quiet for a while."

I picked a random book and pretended to read as I listened for any sign of life from above, but not a sound broke the silence. Only Mr Poe's constant tapping reminded me to breathe in the uncomfortably stale air. I shook my head, _how am I supposed to understand a woman like Daisy Maize? I'm just twelve_ , I reminded myself, but that stupid feeling of helplessness filled my heart. Why was it that I seemed to want to collect broken things? Why did my heart beat for Daisy Maize, a woman that openly mocked me in front of the rest of the class? Why is it all I really wanted to do was hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay? Why am I such a spaz that can't even try? I'm useless.

"Bugger off."

"Nice!" I put my head down and read, but my heart wasn't in it.

It was close to lunchtime when Missus Maize called down the stairs for me to find some potatoes and peel them for chips, and I was glad of the distractions. _Robin Hood_ was a great book but I really didn't need to read a love story. I hustled into the kitchen and propped myself on a chair with a bowl on my lap, a potato in one hand and a metal peeler in the other. My cast was a pain and I was supposed to get it removed next Wednesday, but that would have meant that I missed English and I'd moaned at Mum enough into changing the appointment to Thursday. I could live with the sore skin and the itches for one more day if I had to, and English with Daisy was too important to miss out on.

Missus Maize had a radio in the kitchen, I switched it on and tuned to Radio One hoping to find something to listen to while I worked, but some awful disco music was playing. I turned the dial to try to find something worth listening to and stopped on a station that was playing blues music. Satisfied, I went back to my peeling.

"What is that noise?" Daisy asked as she grabbed the radio from the table and tuned it back to the disco channel. I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. "Sorry James Fisher, for earlier I mean. I never meant to scream at you."

"S'okay."

"How do I look?"

_Perfect_ , "Okay."

"I was hoping to do better than okay."

_Oh shit_ , "You look..." _crap, crap, crap_ , "wonderful?"

"Is that a question?"

"No," _damn this_ , "you bother me and I get confused," I confessed.

"Get yourself together. I told you before, I'm just a girl!"

"That's not what your gran says."

"Oh really! And what does that busy old..."

Missus Maize coughed behind Daisy and I cringed, "You can take that conversation up after lunch madam. Now put the chip pan on and get the eggs out of the fridge, and for the love of all things holy tune that rubbish to another channel, or even better, switch it off." She turned her attention to me, "So what did you chose to read?"

" _Robin Hood_."

"And..."

"It was alright, I guess."

"He guesses a lot," Daisy said as she closed the fridge door.

Missus Maize frowned, "Better a guesser than a know it all."

Daisy gave her a sarcastic smile, "One or two?" I was still looking at Missus Maize, "Oy Spaz! One egg or two?"

"Yes thanks." _C'mon James!_ "Sorry, two please."

"He says sorry a lot as well."

"And you could do well by learning that word Missy!"

"I told you Gran, if she says sorry then so will I!"

So this was about Daisy's mum and I was just an innocent bystander, "I can help if you like?"

"Nah I'm all good, plus if you bump me with that dirty old thing," she pointed at my cast, "I might end up with one of my own."

I had a vision of getting that close to Daisy and fought against my natural urges that seemed to want to play a part in the conversation. I bit the inside of my lip hard and the pain averted the growing problem in my underpants. Luckily for me the bowl with the chips on my lap hid my embarrassment and by the time the crisis was averted Missus Maize and her granddaughter had moved on with their conversation and I sat, quietly relieved.

"So Daisy, what's happening at school?"

"Well I guess James told you about the soliloquy?"

"He did."

"Did he tell you he wrote it about himself?"

"Perhaps."

"Well he did and it was...good."

"I asked about you."

"I did my part."

"Flags again, really Daisy? Isn't that subject getting a little old hat?"

I'd only ever heard Daisy mention her flags once, but by the comments from Missus Maize, Daisy used them all the time.

"Why work on something original when dolts like Mertens will buy into old material? I only have a certain amount of genius you know."

"Daisy Maize!"

"What? Am I lying? The man's a fool. I've seen the way he treats the other kids. He's a bully on the outside and then he changes when he deals with kids like us. Why can't he just be one person?"

This subject was getting a little out of my depth. How can Mertens be more than one person? But she was right in one respect; the man had been and was continuing to bully the rest of the kids.

"That may be correct Daisy, but he's a grownup and he deserves respect. What do you have to say to this James?"

" _Um_ ..."

"More of the same, _um_ ...sorry... _err_..."

"Daisy enough, leave the poor boy alone."

"It's okay Missus Maize," I'd been pushed too far and turned my wrath on the love of my life. "You're no better Daisy Maize. Look at the way you treat people. You have no respect and you never take into consideration how anyone else feels. Your words are barbed and baited and I'm amazed at how someone so beautiful can be so full of hatred and anger." Daisy and Missus Maize both stared at me. "Sorry but it's true."

"Still with the sorries. Why are you always sorry when you make a point? Believe in yourself and what you say James Fisher," Daisy said as she broke the eggs into the pan.

"Looks like the boy has you pegged my girl."

"Looks like he does." And that was the end of that conversation as Daisy explained what else she was doing at school.

I wanted to bring the subject up again. Even though the ice might have been broken, I felt I had more to say on the matter, but Dad's advice about girls echoed around my mind. I decided to leave it and by the time lunch was over Daisy's mood had changed for the better and she laughed and joked about this and that as if nothing had ever happened. Dad was right, girls are weird.

I washed up and Missus Maize took Daisy to the front room to feed Mr Poe. When I'd finished putting the dishes back into the cupboard I went to find them. Daisy was sitting on the armchair with Mr Poe on her shoulder. She was talking to him so softly that I couldn't hear her words; she looked up to me and actually smiled. As my eyes met Missus Maize's the old woman mouthed the words _Bird Witch_. There was no doubt in my mind that she must be a Bird Witch like Missus Maize and any disbelief in my head about witches was gone. They were real.

"James, I need a quick nap, why don't you show Daisy the boatyard and the locks."

"I've seen them Gran."

"Yes, but you've never had a personal guide before."

Daisy sighed, "Okay. Let's go James Fisher. I need to talk to you anyway."

She needed to talk to me? Well that sounded ominous, maybe my comments had been too much and she wanted to let me have it. A trip to the locks would give her ample time to crap me out. "Oh well, let's get it over with then," I said out loud without thinking.

"Like that is it? And there was me thinking you calling me beautiful was a nice compliment. Very well James Fisher, _let's get this over with_." She ran upstairs and came back down with her coat, kissed her gran on the cheek and walked out of the door in front of me.

We strolled to the locks in silence. There were so many thoughts going on in my head about what I wanted to say to her, but my mind just mashed the words into nonsense. So I said nothing until we came to the slipway that led to the narrow stretch of water streaming out toward the Langstone Harbour ferry. I took a deep breath to clear my head and opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"You like it here?"

"It's my home."

"No here, all this mud and weed. It stinks."

"It's not that bad." I took another deep breath. "It's real, no pollution, nor fumes from cars, no nothing."

She seemed to ponder my answer, "I guess you could get used to it. Is it safe to go down to the water?"

"Sure, just stay on the slipway path and watch the ramp." I took a step forward and Daisy followed, but the damp seaweed moved under her foot and I reached out to steady her.

"Get off, I'm not a girly girl. If I end up on my ass I'll get back up on my own."

"I was just trying to help."

"I don't need any help damn it. I'm fed up with people trying to help."

"Fair enough." I walked down the rest of the decline and reached even land, the cast bit into my leg but I was walking with Daisy so I'd put up with anything. "Get a move on, we don't have all day." To my surprise she didn't argue. We strolled down to the water's edge and I pointed out some of the boats that I knew the names of and she listened attentively, even though I suspect she was bored.

"How deep's the mud here?"

"Knee deep and sticky as hell." She took a step off the path. "You'll ruin your trainers."

"So what."

"Are your parents rich?"

"Why? You looking for something?"

"No, you live at Baffins Pond. Rich people live around there so I was just wondering."

"I dunno."

"Well we aren't, and if I went home with trainers covered in mud I'd be in big trouble." I carried on walking to the end and watched the water flow away.

She caught up to me and washed the bottom of her shoes on a small stream in a shale bank. "So what do we do now?"

"Nothing, it's too cold to swim and we don't have a towel."

"Crap. Follow me." She took off her trainers and socks and rolled her trousers up as far as they would go. "C'mon chicken let's take a look at one of those boats you seem to love so much." She waded into the water and only just made it to an open-topped boat that was covered with a tarpaulin. It took her a moment to uncover one side and crawl inside, "C'mon James Fisher, live a little."

I watched in terror as she climbed back out, dragged the boat by the anchor rope to the shoreline and held it in place, waiting for me to climb in. I tried my damndest not to look like a cripple as I crawled under the white covering. She pushed the boat back into the water and jumped in. I used two crates to make some headroom. "We have to be careful to watch the tide. If we get stuck here we'll be in for it."

"We're in a boat, we'll go back to land that way."

"No oars, no engine, no chance. I'll know when the boat changes direction and the tide shifts. When it does we have ten minutes or we're stranded here."

"And that would be a bad thing?"

_No_ , "Yes."

"Why?"

"This is my place and you're a guest and I've got to make sure I get you back in one piece."

"Fair enough James Fisher."

"Why do you always use my surname?"

"Well it is your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, but why can't you just call me James like everyone else?"

"You want me to treat you like everyone else?"

_Urgh another trap_ , I ignored the question, "I guess it's alright."

"You guess a lot and you say sorry even more. Why do you always have to be so nice to everyone?"

"Why do you have to answer a question with another question?"

She was quiet and looked at her feet. I thought I'd blown any chance of getting to know her any better, but she looked me in the eye and said, "It's my defence mechanism. You apologise and guess and I ask questions. It's just the way it is."

I nodded in approval, "It is."

"I saw you beat that girl up on the field. Not many boys would have the balls to do that. Hitting a girl is a big no-no. Didn't bother you though, did it?"

"She was a bully and it needed to be done."

"She was, wasn't she, and now you have her friend as a body guard."

"Bullshit, Shaz is my friend!" I snapped.

"I know, I was just winding you up stupid."

"You like calling people names, don't you?"

"I never really thought about it."

"Well think about it. A bully calls people names; I don't think you're a bully."

"So, what do you think I am them?"

_It's a trap! Don't answer!_ "You're sad."

"I'm sad?"

"Yeah you're sad. And a little alone I think."

"Oh really!"

_In for a penny in for a pound_ , "Yeah. The flag thing wasn't about flying free in the wind or being different, it was about being wrapped up in yourself. Black is sad."

"But..."

I help up a finger, "Let me finish please." I could see her jaw tighten but she sat there and didn't try to change the subject. "The red flag is anger. You wrap yourself in the black flag on the inside and then protect yourself with the red flag of anger."

She stared at me with venom in her eyes and I thought I was going to get punched, but the venom disappeared and she sighed, "Only my gran understood that. Looks like you do know me better than most."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No!"

"Then tell me about being a Bird Witch."

"What?"

"Missus Maize is a Bird Witch; she indicated that you were too, so I was wondering what it was like to be able to tame Mr Poe."

She shook her head, "He's just a mangy old crow that likes millet."

"He hates everyone except you and your gran."

"He just knows us more. There's no such thing as witches James Fisher."

"And there you go again." She gave me a smug smile. "You don't have to be so defensive with me you know."

"Why, you going to fix me?"

My turn to answer with a question, "Do you need fixing?"

"Mum does. Bitch!"

"Daisy!"

"Daisy what? I am so sick and tired of people trying to fix something that doesn't exist. It's driving me nuts!"

"People thought I was nuts when I was in hospital, I even spent time with a psychologist and a psychiatrist."

She seemed to get angry, "Did they tell you to have this conversation with me? I knew it! You're a spy for them, aren't you? You're just as bad as them James Fisher and I'll kick your ass if you ever lie to me again."

"Red flag."

"What."

"You're using the red flag for no reason. I'm not lying. When I was in there, I was afraid of being around too many people, it freaked me out. They said I had anxiety and I started having panic attacks when the stress got too bad."

"Huh!"

"I don't care what you believe Daisy Maize. I was there, it happened to me and I'm not ashamed of it. When I broke my leg the shrink came to see me again and do you know what? I like him; he's a cool dude that helped me through my shit. If I had to see him again I would do it in a heartbeat."

"They want me to go. They think I have anger issues. Me! Can you believe that?"

"Yes."

"What! You just said I was sad and anger was my shield. I can't be both."

"Why not?"

"Cause one is bad enough! I'm not mad James Fisher!"

"Neither am I."

She threw her hands in the air and knocked the crates over. "Fuck!" she shouted.

"Say it again."

"Fuck!"

"Now scream it as loud as you can."

"FUCK!"

"That's another reason I like it around here, no one can hear you. You want to scream and let it all out? Go for it."

"I'll do it if you will."

"Fuck!" I screamed at the top of my voice.

***

As we neared the shack Jenkins was leaning on the fence waiting for us. His eyes burned into mine as if I were a solitary male lion encroaching on his harem. I held back a little and let Daisy walk on, but she slowed and looked at me in that _stop being a dick_ way of hers. I thrust my chin out at the older boy and walked over to where he was standing as if I were on a mission for the Queen herself. "Hiya."

He flatly ignored me and spoke to Daisy, "Where have you been?"

If my anger flared up hers was volcanic, and Jenkins got both barrels full in the face. "Fucking! What's it to you?" He went bright red and started to walk away. "Wait," she cried out as he continued towards the dump. Daisy ran after him. I stood there with my mouth open and had no idea what to say. I'd never met anyone as short-tempered as Daisy and her tongue was as sharp as a razorblade and twice as lethal.

"James Fisher," Missus Maize said from the doorway. "Get yourself in here." I limped down the pathway as Daisy caught up with Jenkins, spun him around and kissed him. I was devastated. "So, what was that all about?" the old woman asked.

I told her what had happened at the boat, intentionally leaving out the talk of shrinks. "And then we screamed for a while and came home."

"Screamed?"

"Yeah, she had a lot of energy she needed to get rid of."

"A lot of anger you mean."

"We ran the red flag down the post and packed it away for a while. That was until she saw her boyfriend, and then it shot back up and was waving in the wind, letting the whole world know exactly how she felt."

"Very poetic. You have a way with words young Fisher, but be careful, words are weapons that people can use against you."

"Like Daisy does."

"Exactly. So James Fisher, now you know the real Daisy Maize, are you still in love?"

I felt sad and confused after spending time with her, but there was no doubting my feelings. I nodded, "I'm afraid so."

Missus Maize never judged me or called me stupid for my admission, "She may never love you back."

"It doesn't matter." But it did.

Fourteen

The saw buzzed as the doctor carefully cut through the cast. He peeled it off exposing my leg to the elements for the first time in weeks, and luckily for me I knew what to expect. If you've never been in plaster let me take a moment to explain what happens after it's finally removed. Firstly, it stinks, and your skin is all flaky and falling off. Secondly, your muscle mass diminishes and you think that your leg won't be able to take the weight of your body. But the worst is the knee joint itself; when my arm had come out of plaster it took a couple of days for me to be able to straighten it without pain, but I was still able to get around alright. My leg was worse and I had trouble walking without the cast; my limp was very pronounced.

"You should be fine after some physiotherapy James," the doctor said, twisting my knee and hitting the cap with a tiny hammer.

It was so sore I could have cried out loud, but I held it in. "Should be?" I asked between clenched teeth.

"Well, we'll know more in a couple of weeks but the x-rays are clean and the swelling is almost gone. Now it's all about you. No excessive exercise, no climbing, no football in the playground and no girls."

"Girls?"

"Just joking."

If that was his idea of a joke it wasn't very funny. The memory of Daisy kissing Jenkins was still a fresh wound in my soul, "Not funny."

He stood up and smiled at Mum, "Okay we're all good to go. We'll see you in a couple of weeks, okay?"

I tried to stand but I was too scared of falling.

"Use the crutches James, trust me it'll help."

"Okay." There was nothing for it, I had to get around on my own, and I gave in to the two metal supports that I'd pushed away for so long. I was now a spaz in mind and body. The only good news was that my teeth were growing back and I was halfway to a full smile again.

On the other hand, my face had become the perfect place for grease and blackheads to congregate, and even though I scrubbed religiously and squeezed as much pus as I could, I just seemed to make things worse. I'd even taken to bringing soap and a towel to school every day to wash at lunchtime, but it was all for nothing. Luckily for me I wasn't the only one in my class. Zits were popping up on everyone's faces except those kids blessed with good skin. The blemishes were a no-go area when it came to ribbing each other; it was like an unwritten rule. No spot jokes, period.

Darren Colby, a boy who sat behind me, had it the worst. His face was covered in yellow pus-filled bumps and he belonged to the non-popping school of thought. Every now and again someone would see one pop all on its own and the truce was abandoned for a few moments as a comment would be thrown. It was not a pretty sight to see and I was glad I sat in front of him. Kinger said we should watch our backs and stabbed me in the ribs with a pencil.

The crutches went everywhere with me and a new sport was invented called Fishering. The rules were simple, walk behind me and trip me up with my own crutch. Funny, unless you were me. Outwardly it seemed I took it as good clean fun, but under my breath I cursed each and every one of them for it.

By the next Monday I'd done enough physiotherapy to get rid of the crutches for good and both my front teeth were back to being in the right place. Even the spots weren't enough to put me in a bad mood as I walked into English class that morning and greeted Mertens. He nodded and smiled, but as I took my seat and looked down the line at Jenkins's ugly mug there was no blonde ponytail bobbing up and down in the background. Daisy was missing! I could either sit there and say nothing or speak to my arch enemy. I coughed to get his attention and when he turned to face me I could see that he genuinely hated me. Surely he didn't believe what Daisy had said to him outside of the shack? He wasn't that dim. "Where's Daisy?"

"Fuck off Fisher."

"Hey, dickwad, where is she?" He turned his head away and ignored me. "Bastard."

"Fuckhead."

I sat back and put my hands behind my head thinking of Daisy and where she could be. I relived our screaming match in the boat and smiled, but as I did so I realised something disturbing. I had taken to swearing at everything. Swearing was frowned upon in our house and up until I met Daisy I had only used it when I thought I absolutely needed to. Now it seemed to have become a part of my everyday vocabulary, and that had to stop. Our family may not have money, but that was no reason to use bad language. I'd never heard Mum swear, well unless you count bugger and shit as swear words, and Dad only swore when he came home from the pub late on a Friday night. I made a pact with myself to stop the profanity and go back to using it as a last-ditch defence. Time to try a new approach with Jenkins. I leant over his side of the row of desks. "Jenkins?" He looked around. "Sorry dude, no offence meant." I leaned back not wanting or expecting a reply. Jenkins paid me exactly that amount of respect by flatly ignoring me.

Mertens was on a mission that morning, and walked around the room reading speeches from Shakespeare and picking on us one by one to explain what the bard meant. I got the easy one, Henry V's _Once more until the Breach_ rant. I call it a rant because I always found the speeches a little long-winded, and my imagination always took on the view of the common man having to listen to them. If I were about to be one of the Englishmen that was used to 'close up the walls', I wouldn't want to listen to my king telling me I was about to die, no matter how noble he told me it was.

Some of my running coaches had tried to use speeches to motivate me, their words not mine, but they always left me feeling cheated. The words were just a list of things we were running for, the club, the team, the city, it was all just blah blah blah, and I chose to ignore it all and focus on the running itself. I'd never considered the use of speeches to be anything other than a weak attempt at perverting one's mind into believing the will of another. I must admit some were definitely better than others and Shakespeare was a master of writing them, but it wasn't for me.

At the break, I tried to talk to Jenkins again but he completely ignored my attempts and turned his back on me every time I tried to engage him. I gave up and sought out Mertens, "Sir?"

"What is it James?"

"Where's Daisy Maize?"

"She's signed off sick for the week."

"Why?"

He frowned at me and put his tea cup down onto his desk, "You know I can't tell you right?"

"No one will know Sir."

"That's not the point James; Daisy's problems are for her and her family to manage."

So, she had problems! Mertens was by no means a dim man and I couldn't help thinking that he was trying to give me a clue. "Stuck at home with a thermometer in her mouth, is she?" I said innocently trying to pry more information out of him.

"Afraid not," was all he said, as the bell rang for the next period to start. _Ah I have a mystery to solve and only Mertens and Jenkins knew what was going on. Time to call in some favours!_

At lunchtime, I hooked up with Shaz and Kinger and explained the plan but both looked at me sceptically. "Remind me once again why we are bothering with this?" Kinger asked.

"Because she's one of us and we never leave a man behind."

"How is that stuck up little princess one of us?" Shaz asked.

Damn! I hadn't considered that my two best friends wouldn't be on board with operation _Find and save Daisy Maize_. I had to think quickly before they tried to talk me out of it, "Guys you have to trust me, Daisy is just like us. I can't tell you why because I swore to her I wouldn't and I would do the same for both of you."

"Sounds just like emotional blackmail to me James," Shaz glared at me. She knew all about emotional blackmail, having been stuck owing Meesh for so long.

If I wasn't careful I could lose two good friends for the sake of one girl, "She has issues."

"Don't we all?" Kinger said laughing. "What makes her so special?"

I had one last card to play and it would mean nothing to Kinger but it would work on Shaz, "We'd be doing it for Missus Maize."

"I call bullshit," Shaz said flatly.

I was beaten, "Sorry Shaz, but I had to try."

"James, you like this girl, right?"

"I do."

"So why don't you just say that instead of all the fancy worded crap."

"And you'd go along with that?"

"If it's true."

I was such a dolt! "I like her, maybe too much and I'm scared something bad is happening to her."

"Well why didn't you just say that in the first place? Let's go find that Jenkins creep and find out where she is." Shaz marched off with Kinger and me in tow.

"This won't end well my friend, but nothing ventured, nothing gained."

I nodded at Kinger and smiled, "Thanks mate." He shrugged and hurried on.

We came across Jenkins standing next to a tree chatting with some of his mates. Two of them had cigarettes and the group was passing the death sticks around the circle. The thought of inhaling that poison sickened me. Shaz pushed one of the smaller boys away and broke the group up, she grabbed Jenkins by the front of his jersey and dragged him over to where I stood watching in terror at the way she was manhandling him. The rest of the boys dropped their smokes and took off in all directions leaving only the four of us. "You can let him go Shaz, but if he bolts make sure whatever you do hurts him, badly."

She grunted a response and dumped Jenkins onto his knees in front of me.

I helped him up, "All I want to know is where Daisy is, tell me and everything goes back to normal."

"Back to normal! Take a look around Fisher."

Every boy and girl within earshot was turned to face us and several were walking over, "Shaz make sure no one gets any closer please. Kinger you can help her, okay?" My best friend nodded and followed Shaz toward the crowd of kids that were fast approaching what they thought was a fight. "We can work this out Jenkins. Tell me what you know and I'll make this right."

"Oh really, like I believe you."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No."

"So you have nothing to lose. Right now everyone knows you're in for a beating and it could still end up that way, but it doesn't have to." I could see his mind working overtime trying to figure out an escape plan but I had him just where I wanted him, and he knew it.

"She's booked off for the week."

"I know that already, what I don't know is why."

He paused once again working out what he should and shouldn't do, "She has issues she's working through."

So now we were getting down to the truth, "Go on."

"She told me about the boat. You know what issues I'm talking about."

I nodded, "Thank you. What's her address?" He handed the information over, "Now this is how things work from here. I'm going to visit her to make sure she's alright and you're going to be alright about it because if you're not I won't go through with the next part of the plan."

"Oh really, and what's that?"

"It's the part where you punch me in the face and walk away from here with your shit in place."

He looked into my eyes and nodded, "Deal. But..."

"But me no buts Jenkins."

"Shakespeare."

"Not even close." He looked confused. "I'm going to call you a name out loud, if you don't take a swing straight away everyone will know it's a ruse. Got it?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm not the dick you think I am. Ready?"

He nodded again and I let rip with as many swearwords as I could manage until I felt the weight of his punch hit my jaw. I saw sparks and flashes and my knees buckled and hit the grass, Jenkins stood above me not knowing what to do. Shaz screamed and started running toward us. I managed to stay kneeling and held out a hand toward her before she ripped Jenkins's head off his shoulders. I looked up at the scared second year. "Walk away now," I whispered. "No don't hit me again!" I cried out loud.

By the time Shaz was kneeling beside me he had walked away with his dignity intact and I had the information I needed. I smiled at Shaz who relaxed, "Sorry, but it had to be done."

"James Fisher you really can be a twat."

"What's a twat?"

She raised her eyebrows at me, "You are!"

On the bus ride home that night I hatched a plan to visit Daisy but it all relied on one thing, and getting it would take some balls, even by my standards. I explained the details to Kinger and Shaz, the girl laughed but my best friend groaned and agreed after some considerable encouragement, because if my plan backfired he would be in trouble as deeply as I was definitely going to be in.

***

Tuesday morning's assembly went by without incident and the whole class seemed to be in a good mood. I sat quietly next to Kinger looking through a book that I had borrowed from Mertens' room, but I could feel his stress levels rising. He was a great friend but he'd never been in trouble at school and if my plan went south things could change dramatically, and for the worse.

Mister Manning was an army man and he had a very specific way he did things. First greet the room, second take the register, third pass on any information he needed to, and fourth go back into his mini lab until the bell went. I listened to the mundane announcements of the football team's loss to some school or another and the visit of the mobile hospital unit to process all the first-year inoculations. It was a two-part jab, the first was a set of eight needles in a circular pattern that punctures the skin of your inside forearm. After a week, the site of the injection was either inflamed or not. If it was inflamed then no second injection. If it wasn't, the follow up injection was pumped into your left upper arm. It was one of the things I'd been dreading. I'd experienced a ton of injections but I always hated them, especially the ones in your butt.

As the class groaned about the news Mister Manning went back to his lab and I took my chance. I grabbed Kinger's duffle bag and tried to rip it out of his hands but he hung on. "C'mon man, you agreed to go through with this!"

"I've changed my mind!"

"Don't be such a baby! C'mon dude, it'll be a blast."

"That's what I'm scared of!"

I pulled the bag away and emptied the contents onto the table. Pod had taken to doing his rounds and when he came to us I showed him the empty bag and held out a hand. "Matches please. It's time for that revolution of yours." His eyes lit up and he handed over a box of red tipped Swanns, "Move on or face the consequences."

"Right on comrade!"

I didn't bother to see if Mister Manning had come back into the room, it was time for action. I stood up, waved my hands to get everyone's attention and held a finger to my lips to let everyone know to be quiet. I held up the match and the bag for all to see and smiled a manic smile. Each desk was equipped with three sets of gas taps that a Bunsen burner could be attached to. I took a small rubber hose from under the bench and attached one end to the gas and shoved the other into the duffel bag and tied the drawstrings as tightly as I could. I flipped the switch on the tap and counted to twenty. Everyone in the room was silently waiting to see if I had the balls to go ahead with the coup-de-grace. When I was sure it was full I switched off the tap, pulled the tube and held the bag upside down to keep as much of the gas in as possible and walked to the front of the room.

I could hear Mister Manning walk back into the class as I struck the match on his desk and lit the gas. The effect was even better than I hoped as a _whoof_ sound filled the room and I felt the heat wave scorch the hairs off my hand and arm. I was so proud of the stunt that I'd forgotten about Mister Manning, until he grabbed my arm and marched me out of the room straight to the headmaster's office and a meeting with the cane. Part one of the _Find and save Daisy Maize_ plan was complete!

From there my punishment was handed out. Six strokes of the cane and week of detention, but I wasn't worried, I was on a mission and if I was successful I could be kissing the woman of my dreams before the end of the week! I hadn't reckoned on my other punishment; Mum had chased me around with her whacker, much to Sean's amusement, and Dad had said those three words that all young boys hated hearing, "Touch your toes!" What with Mum's whacks and Dad's smacks I swore I wasn't going to be able to sit down for a week!

There was one more opportunity for Daisy to make an appearance before I went ahead with part two of the operation, but as I hurried into the English class there was no sign of her. Jenkins nodded to me without his normal scowl and I returned the acknowledgment.

There was no way to avoid it, tonight would be the culmination of the plan and one way or another I was going to find out what was going on with Daisy.

The detention room was next to the school library, the headmaster had chosen it because it was a room with chairs and desks and nothing else, not even a clock on the wall. For someone with my sense of curiosity it was hell. My last period was History and I'd have to walk right past the detention room without being spotted for me to make my escape. But that was the easy part.

The bell rang for the end of school and every door along the long corridor burst open as kids flooded the hallway. I joined in and was swept toward the library and my incarceration, but just before it was too late I ducked into the boy's toilets and locked myself in a cubicle for fifteen minutes, then crawled under the window in the top half of the detention room door so that whichever teacher was on duty couldn't spot my escape. I was out of the building, across the playground and into the street in record time. As I drew to a stop behind the school wall where I was sure I couldn't be spotted from the inside, I smiled to myself and caught my breath.

Baffins Pond was two bus stops away from the school, and unless there was a bus waiting, all the kids from the area walked home. I'd often lie awake at night thinking about walking Daisy home and as I wandered down the street I tried to memorize every step for future daydreams.

It took me less than ten minutes to walk the short distance and as I stepped onto the grass common that surrounded the pond my heart started to race. This was about as far as I had planned and I wasn't exactly sure what to do next.

I had the address and I knew that I could see the house from the far side of the pond, but what I was going to do then was still up for debate in my mind. A brave person would knock on the door and demand to see Daisy, but that was exactly what a stupid person would do as well. I pondered all the brave and stupid things I'd done in the last couple of months and almost convinced myself to do another, but as I reached the water's edge I stared across the pond and doubts played havoc within my mind.

My strides became shorter and my breathing shallower as I rounded the pond with its white swans and assorted ducks floating and bobbing on its surface. I came face to face with the semi-detached house where my love laid her head every night and my nerves got the best of me.

I found a bench where I could survey the house from a safe distance and sat down with my bag between my feet. "So smart ass, what now?" I asked myself out loud, but, as always, the universe refused to answer. Fifty percent of me was screaming to take the bull by the horns and the other fifty percent was busy mentally handcuffing me to the bench. So I did the only thing I could do; I sat and watched the house for hour after hour as my inner monologue thought through scenario after scenario.

Before I knew it, the sun was starting to set and I was jolted back to reality by someone poking me in the back with a stick of some sort. I jumped up ready to defend myself but there was no ways I could win a fight against who stood there brandishing their weapon. "Missus Maize what are you doing here?"

"Poking a nosey little parker. Question is, what are you doing here?"

"Um, I came to see Daisy. She's sick from school and I wanted to make sure she's okay."

"Well she's fine, now off with you young Fisher. Your mother will be livid!"

_Oh crap, I'm in so deep this time_ , "They know I'm here."

"They do not! Don't you lie to me James, I'm not as stupid as you think I am."

"Sorry Missus Maize, I never meant..."

"No, you probably didn't mean anything but I'm betting there will be all sorts of trouble later on."

"I just wanted to make sure Daisy was okay."

"Well now you know."

"Thanks Missus Maize."

She sighed out loud, "James listen carefully. You know Daisy has her troubles, well this is just one of those times." She stared at me but I could see the anger that was very evident in her eyes only a moment ago was gone and had been replaced with concern, "Come with me."

She started to walk toward the semi-detached house, "Wait I'll go home, don't worry about it."

"Just do as you're told and don't argue." I knew I'd blown it and followed the Bird Witch over to the house. "Don't touch anything inside the house, Daisy's mom is very particular," she said as we stood outside the gate that led to the house. "And if anyone asks you a question you don't know anything."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Boy, you will be the death of me I swear." She put a hand on my shoulder. "Daisy had an episode after school and she was taken to hospital. Her parents are blaming the school and they think she was bullied by someone. If they ask you don't go getting any ideas just act dumb." I nodded, my plan was dead in the water. Daisy wasn't even at home.

"Is she alright Missus Maize?"

"She will be James. She needs some time to work through things."

"Can I at least know which hospital?"

Missus Maize paused for thought before she spoke the two words that I never expected to hear, "Saint James'."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed."

Fifteen

Well you can imagine the trouble I was in when Mum and Dad drew up outside of Daisy's house an hour later. To my relief Missus Maize had kept Daisy's mum away from me and her dad wasn't at home. I was left alone in the front room staring at photos of a happy Maize family on holiday somewhere with a white beach and blue sea. I must admit I was jealous, we hardly ever went on holiday and when we did it was to a damp old caravan we had a part share of down in Cornwall. I hated those holidays for no other reason than I had to top and tail with Sean every night, and the boy could fart at will.

As I heard the bell chime and as Missus Maize answered the door I readied myself for the barrage of abuse, but when Mum saw me she burst into tears and hugged me half to death. Dad however was his normal sombre self and hung back in the doorway until Missus Maize pushed him into the room and asked them to sit down. I had started to cry along with Mum but when Missus Maize spoke it calmed the whole situation down.

"Mister and Missus Fisher, I want to apologise for any trouble we may have caused young James here. My granddaughter and James are friends and she went missing from school. This young man was worried about her so he did what any friend would do; he came to see if she was okay. Unfortunately, she isn't here. As soon as he knocked on the door I called you."

"Thank you, Missus Maize," Mum said through the hanky she used to blow her nose.

"So, what were you doing the rest of the time, Son?" Dad asked, not quite buying Missus Maize's story.

She gave me one of her, _be honest_ , looks, "I was sitting over in the park waiting."

"For what?"

"For the courage to knock on the door."

Dad opened his mouth but the Bird Witch spoke instead. "It's Daisy's mum," she whispered, "she's a bit, well you know," she nodded to Mum, who nodded back.

"Oh," Dad said, and looked like he didn't have a clue what just happened between the two women. I know I didn't. "Well we'd better get this young man home."

"Before you go, I have a request from her parents."

"Go on," Dad said, but his tone of voice said something very different and the minutes to me touching my toes were diminishing all too quickly.

"Daisy is in a ward in Saint James' Hospital and we were hoping that you would let young James visit her. I believe he has prior experience with helping a sick friend?"

"He does," Dad said, and I could swear I heard a slight note of pride in his voice.

"Excellent. Visiting times are from four to six every night. She may be there for quite some time and the doctors have said that visits from people her own age are very important to her recovery."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing really, she has depression."

Mum gasped, "I thought it was only old people that got depressed."

"Unfortunately not. There is another reason I would like James to see her."

"Okay I'll buy it," Dad was getting impatient.

"James has spent time with a psychiatrist and Daisy is refusing to see one. I'm hoping he can convince her that it's a safe place to speak. It could be instrumental in her healing."

Missus Maize was a genius! "I can help her Dad," I ventured but the look I got was one of pure, _wait till you get home_ , menace.

"You have my word he'll be there every day. I'll speak to the school about his detention. I'm sure they can put it on hold until Daisy's better."

"Very good Missus Fisher. Even though that boy of yours is a bit of a loose cannon, you should be proud that his motives are good. His reasoning just needs some work. He's a good boy at heart and I hope you'll take that into consideration when he receives his punishment."

"I will," Dad said.

***

Well if he did take it into consideration it didn't help as my behind was smacked for the second time in a week, but when he was done he straightened me up and wiped the tears from my eyes. "Just because your motives are all good and well, what you did was bad. Have you ever actually thought about speaking to us about any of these plans of yours? I would have had no problem helping you find out if the girl was okay. What is it with her James, you like her?"

"Yeah I do."

"And what were you going to do when you found her?"

"I don't really know."

"That's what I thought. Listen carefully Son, talk to me about these things and I promise to help you."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm guessing you love her and if you do I get it but..."

_Oh crap the dreaded but_ , "I know..."

"No, you don't. You're twelve and she's not much older. There's plenty of time for both of you. You don't have to rush around saving every damsel in distress."

"I don't..."

"I've seen what you do James. You notice a problem and you dive into it without thinking the thing through. You got lucky with Shaz, she's got a good heart that one, but it could have turned out much worse. You have your mother worried so much she's not sleeping at night. If you want a problem to solve, try dealing with that one."

"Oh."

"Yeah oh, life isn't always just about you James. Everything you do affects so many others."

He was dead right and I felt like a loser, everything I'd done was because I was selfish and I had eyes for only Daisy. "Sorry Dad."

"Son, sorry doesn't cut it. You can't do anything you want to and then think you can just say sorry and it's all forgotten, because this isn't a perfect world and it's never forgotten. It's just a case of when are you going to do it again, and that's not acceptable behaviour." All the time his voice was as calm as I had ever heard it. He was speaking to me man to man for the first time ever, and I felt the weight of his words on my shoulders.

"What can I do to put it right?"

"Just be our son and talk to us. We'll help you James, but it's a two-way street and you're at a crossroads."

In my mind I saw the fork in the path leading to the bridge and swallowed hard, "I'll do my best Dad."

"No James. It's impossible for a person to do their best all the time, life isn't like that. Don't make promises like that just because you think it's what we want to hear from you. Just be you, but remember that there are many other people as well as yourself, think about them." He was right, I'd screwed everything up without thinking of the consequences and I felt so guilty. He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face until we were eye to eye, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and man up. You know you have some apologizing to do so get to it. Your mum's in the kitchen and you can phone your friends once she's done with you." I nodded and did my best to keep my bottom lip from quivering. "Good."

***

It's funny how cathartic being totally honest with a person can be and when I was finished speaking with Mum, Shaz and Kinger I felt better about things, but at dinner Dad reminded me that I'd missed someone very important, so as soon as I was excused from the table I ran as fast as my dodgy knee allowed around to Missus Maize's shack. I expected her to be waiting outside, leaning on the door _tutting_ as she looked me up and down but the door was closed and I nearly walked away without knocking. _Man up_ , I walked down the short path to the front door and wrapped my knuckles on the sun-bleached front door. I could hear Mr Poe caw his normal welcome.

"James Fisher, wasn't expecting a visit from you tonight. I'm a bit surprised you haven't been grounded for a month or more!"

"I need to speak to you."

"Well if it's about Daisy..."

"No, it's about you."

"Well in that case you'd better come in then."

She left me to close the door and led me into the front room where the crow sat on its perch, eying me up in case I made trouble. He reminded me of a bouncer I'd once seen outside of a disco on the beachfront when Mum had taken me to the pier last summer. I waited until she sat down and asked her if she wanted me to make some tea, but she shook her head and sat there waiting for me to say my peace. "I'm sorry Missus Maize. I never considered my actions would cause trouble for other people."

"Well that's a very grown up way of putting it James Fisher. Now say it in words we can both understand better."

"I was an idiot that didn't think before I acted."

"Precisely. You are an idiot but at least you know it, unlike most. An idiot that knows he's an idiot can change, are you that sort of idiot?"

"I hope so."

"I hope so too. Caused you a lot of bother this business, did it? Dad making you say sorry to people?"

"Not as such. He advised me to make amends; I'm just not sure how to do it with you. I can work on the shack if you want me to."

"No."

I was expecting her to continue talking but she just sat there staring at me waiting. Words were not forthcoming and I stared at the bird, who stared right back. " _Um_ ..."

" _Um_ eh? Best you can do? After everything you've read, _um_ is all you have?"

" _Err_ ..."

"And _err_ ...very impressive James Fisher, very impressive indeed."

"I'm sorry Missus Maize."

She ignored my apology, "I had to run interference for you with Daisy's mum for three hours after you left you know. She was absolutely livid."

"You don't like her, do you?"

"Not the point at all. She was totally against even calling your parents, she was going to kick you out of the house and call the police." I swallowed hard. "Good job she didn't, eh?"

"Yes, and thank you."

"For what? I did what I did for my sake not yours. I brought you into that horrible home and I wish I'd left you on that bench, but then I would have had to live with that thought and I wouldn't do that."

"Sorry."

"You must be sick of saying that. I've lived for many years James Fisher and I've never known anyone like you. Ever since I picked you up off that floor you've taken me on a journey I would have never agreed to but...I've enjoyed every minute."

_What?_ "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm an old woman and I got bored staring out this window as the world went by with the changing of the tides. With you around life has become fun again. Now don't get me wrong here, what you've done was wrong but I have to admit, it was funny," she laughed. "You should have seen your face when I scared you on that bench."

"How did you know I was there?"

"I always get off the bus one stop early when I visit Daisy's dad, I like to walk around the pond and feed the ducks. I must admit you caught me by surprise."

"Not as surprised as I was."

"Ah, perhaps. And finding you there meant I could give Daisy's mum a headache," she winked at me, "the three-hour lecture was worth it. Just don't do it again okay?"

"Dealio."

"So on to the other matter."

"Daisy."

She nodded and I could feel her mood darken, "You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I've nursed a few people in the past, I think I can do it."

"Then we need to talk seriously before you go."

"Okay," I said as my heart beat faster. I could tell by her tone that this was important and I sat back and relaxed in the chair. Whenever I needed to take on something important I found it much easier to digest if I was totally relaxed, which is hard when your heart is trying to escape out of your body. _Man up and chill out_ , I said those words over and over again as Missus Maize told me the real story of Daisy Maize.

"Two years ago Daisy started showing signs of the beginning of a deep depression. It was the first time it had happened and the doctors said to just let it run its course and gave her some sort of drug to help her relax." The old woman shook her head and scrunched up her face in disgust. "They were wrong, and as Daisy got worse her anger issues started to take hold of her and she would scream and shout at people for making the smallest of mistakes. She was admitted to hospital because the quacks thought she might hurt someone or herself, but Daisy's not like that. They gave her more and more drugs and by the time they had sedated her enough she was more like a zombie than the Daisy I love. She was in that place for three months before they let her go home and I think it killed her a little on the inside. Her mother wanted her to go into a home on a permanent basis, but her father and I managed to convince her to give Daisy another chance." Missus Maize took a deep breath, "Three weeks ago she started showing signs of the depression again and as you've seen the anger issues are back. It was all her mother needed to get her put back in hospital and she's been there ever since. I was going to visit them to try and convince her to let Daisy come and stay with me instead but you sort of put that on hold."

I found myself staring at my reflection in the wooden table top not knowing what to do or say. Missus Maize passed me a tissue and I noticed that I had been crying. I felt sadder than I had ever felt in my life. The Bird Witch shuffled out of the door on the way to the kitchen to make tea and I was left with Mr Poe, who impolitely told me to bugger off.

By the time she returned with the tea tray I'd regained my composure, "So what do we do?"

"We?"

"What do we do about Daisy?"

"We aren't doctors James."

"We have to do something! We can't just leave her there, we don't know what those quacks will do to her!"

"Slow down there, young man. This has very little to do with you or me. Daisy is there because people who know what they're doing say she should be."

"But you said that they..."

"I know what I said James but I'm just an old woman with her own opinions and I could be wrong. Until I know any better I'll let the professionals do their thing."

"But..."

"No James, no buts! Haven't you learnt anything today? I told you Daisy's story because you need to know if you're going to visit her. And when you do, I strongly recommend that you're there to help her and not do anything you'll regret later. Daisy comes first and that's that, got it?"

"I'm sorry."

"You always are James Fisher."

***

It was that night that I came across Pod's cassette hiding in the recesses of my school bag amongst the pencil shavings and a stale crisp or two. The pale grey casing looked like it might cave in on itself at any moment, but as I shook it to test that it hadn't seized up, it sounded fine. I had an old cassette player someone had given me for Christmas last year, and as I searched through all my toys for some batteries I couldn't help myself from planning Daisy's escape, even though I knew I'd never go through with it. Missus Maize was right, as she always was, I was going to see Daisy to help her, not make things worse. I tried to think of something else but it was no good.

I found what I was looking for in the back of a Bugs Bunny talking clock that I had conveniently shoved in the back of my cupboard months ago. As I slid the batteries in place I experienced a cold shiver down my spine in anticipation. I pressed play without inserting the tape to make sure everything was working and then turned it off. "Here goes nothing." I inserted the tape and pressed play again, and I could swear the noise filled the house before I found the volume control and turned it down so only I could hear what was playing, and what I heard was crazy.

I stopped the tape after the first song and hit the rewind button. The song was short and I hadn't been able to catch any of the words, but that didn't matter. It was something I'd never heard before and I liked it. True, it was nowhere near as perfect as Sam Cooke or any of the other greats, this was loud and gritty and full of, well there was no way else to say it, nothing but noise. I listened to the song again and then let the rest of the tape play. I was hooked, and at the end of the tape there was a boy's voice that sounded just like Pod, who said that I had been listening to the Ramones. I checked the other side but it was just white noise.

I must have played that tape for hours that night, because by the time I climbed into bed the rest of the house was silent. As the moonlight flooded my room I finally had something else to think of other than Daisy, but as I realised that, my mind pushed the Ramones music away and I went back to rescuing my damsel in distress.

Thanks to Pod something had changed for me and my heart and soul had been opened to a new sort of music, and I craved more. _Plan one: get more music from Pod. Plan two: get through the school day without causing any more trouble. Plan three: go and see Daisy_.

***

I took the recorder with me to school the next day and I played the first song for Shaz as the bus meandered around Mooringsway. Some of the other kids were looking at Shaz as if she were mad when she held the device up close to her ear. "What's a Blitzkrieg bop?"

"Is that what they're saying? I couldn't work it out and I have no idea what it means. But you have to admit it's really cool."

"If you say so James," Shaz laughed at me. "Sounds really noisy and pretty angry if you ask me."

Kinger was the next one to experience the power of the bop but he too wasn't blown away like I had been, "I'd rather listen to my mum's bloody opera than have to listen to that rubbish."

"Really? I think it's brilliant."

We wandered into the class for registration and my eyes searched for the self-proclaimed punk rocker who was sitting in his place looking through a tattoo magazine. I made a beeline for him but Mister Manning called for quiet and I had to take my seat. He read out the names and waited for the responses and then sat silently. I crumpled up a sheet of paper and tossed it in Pod's direction. He looked up and I made a gesture for him to wait for me once registration was done, he smiled, held up his fist and mouthed his normal _revolution comrade_ message to the masses.

The bell rang, "Fisher stay, the rest of you on your way and have a good day people."

I sat in stony silence as everyone else filtered out of the doorway and disappeared into different directions, "Sir?"

"Busy day yesterday James?"

"Sort of Sir."

"Caused quite a stir. Had teachers looking for you all over the school, some stayed behind on their own time. What do you think about that?"

_Oh crap_ , I hadn't considered this at all, "Sorry Sir."

"I swear you're more trouble than you're worth Fisher, but the powers that be say you're worth it. So who am I to argue? I believe you have an appointment to see Miss Maize this evening."

"How do you know that?"

"Mister Fisher do you really think you can pull a stunt like the one you did without the school speaking to your parents? Now back to the problem at hand, appointment with Miss Maize?"

"Yes Sir."

"Very well, take this," he threw a piece of paper at me. "That's a note to excuse you from detention until Miss Maize is back at school. It seems you have a stay of execution."

That sounded dramatic! "Thanks Sir."

"Get out Fisher, and make me a believer in your capabilities."

"Yes Sir." I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the door as fast as I could. Mertens may be a fan of my talent but no teacher liked you to be late to class, and as I climbed to the top of the stairs I only just managed to beat the door closing in my face.

I shuffled into my seat breathing hard and shoved my bag between my feet. I felt a poke on my right arm, "How was she?"

It was Jenkins, "I don't know, I never got to see her." This was dangerous. I couldn't tell him what was going on as Missus Maize had sworn me to secrecy.

"Don't be a dick Fisher, what's happening?"

"She's not well."

"I fucking know that. What's wrong with her?"

_Think quickly damn it_ , "Mumps."

"Mumps? I thought it was her issues?"

"Yeah mumps, highly contagious, makes your balls drop off if it's not caught in time." Jenkins bought the lie and moved one chair further away from me. I moved next to him, "I've had them but I can still pass on the bug. You had them?"

"No," he said nervously. "You still got your balls?"

"Yeah, I got it from my brother so it was caught quickly. It's only trouble if you get it from someone you know from school or a club or something like that. You don't get the swelling until a week later and then the damage is done and within a month they fall right off your body." He was so freaked out he left the class and we didn't see him again for the rest of the lesson.

English class flew by as it always did, and by the time lunch came around I was starving hungry. I smiled as the dinner lady piled the soggy chips onto my plate and then covered them in the thinnest gravy ever seen. I searched for my friends but both were missing, so I grabbed a seat at a table close to the serving area in the hope that they would spot me and join me when they came in.

"Viva the revolution brother!" Pod said, as he settled in next to me.

I looked around in surprise, the boy was as silent as a ghost when he moved about the school and his smile reminded me of the Cheshire cat from in Alice in Wonderland. "Pod! How the hell do you do that?"

"Ah that would be telling, now wouldn't it? Did you listen to it?"

"I did."

"And..."

"It was amazing, where did you buy it?"

"Ah, you can't buy that shit yet man. My brother saw them in London and got the recording from a roadie of theirs. I made some copies."

"Well I'm glad you did, got any more?"

He smiled that smile again, "Anything can happen comrade, for the right price of course. Many people had to die to get that recording to me."

"No they didn't!"

"No they didn't," he laughed before continuing, "but still I have overheads and free giveaways hurt my profit margin."

"What happened to the revolution?"

"Even a revolution has to be financed."

"I guess it does, so how much?"

"What do you want? More Ramones or something a little closer to home?"

"Like what?"

"I have some bootleg copies of The Sex Pistols and The Clash."

"I have no idea who they are."

"Then you're in for a treat, twenty pence gets you a copy," he looked down and held his hand out under the table. I rummaged in my pocket and gave him my hard-earned cash and he dramatically produced another tape from his shirt pocket. "Listen to it when you're alone Fisher, this is dangerous stuff!"

"Sure it is." I shook the tape to make sure it wasn't broken and looked up to thank him but Pod was already gone. I secreted the tape away in my bag and went back to my chips and gravy.

The rest of the day dragged on and on until the end of school bell finally put us out of our misery. I walked out of school chatting to Kinger and Shaz fell into step beside us just before the exit. We were met by a cold wind and a roadblock of kids trying to put their coats on. Winter was on its way and as we walked out we were greeted by freezing cold rain blowing straight into our faces. I hunkered down in my parka and half-ran, half-walked to the bus stop outside of the gates but there was no bus in sight. There must have been twenty kids all trying to stay dry under the bus shelter but the three of us chose to stand outside rather than rubbing shoulders and other body parts against strangers. We stood with our backs to the wind as the rain drenched my trousers and flooded my shoes. It was truly miserable.

The bus finally turned up, but by the time it did we were all in a bad mood and none of us felt like chatting. After the fifteen-minute ride I punched Kinger in the arm and followed Shaz down the aisle of the bus and got off at Furze Lane.

"I have to stop at the shop."

I was hoping that she was going to walk straight home and I could double back before I walked the half mile to the mental hospital. I wanted to keep my visits to Daisy a secret from my friends just in case I had to do something they would regret later. Rather they didn't know anything and stay out of trouble! "Okay I'll come with you."

She shrugged, pulled her hood around her face and walked over to The Larder, our local one-stop shop. The owners had a rule, only three schoolkids at a time and I was relieved to see no one else inside. As we went in the bell sounded a warning that a customer had entered and I went to wait by the sweets counter as Shaz weighed out a couple of pounds of spuds for the foster home.

"You buying?"

I looked up from the chocolate into Miss Dunridge's face, "Not today."

She was a kindly old biddy with grey hair and saggy skin, she'd worked behind the counter since I could remember, she didn't really like us kids but she didn't treat us badly. "Not supposed to be in here unless you're buying."

"I'm just waiting for her, it's raining cats and dogs out there."

"Okay but don't be a pain and don't take anything."

"Never have, never will," I shot her one of my flashiest smiles.

"Twenty Superkings for me mum," Shaz asked as she dumped the dirty potatoes onto the counter.

"Sure they're for your mum?"

Shaz gave her a deadpan stare, "We go through this every time Miss Dunridge."

"Well if you say so," she pulled a black pack of smokes from the dispenser and put them into the packet with the veggies. Shaz paid and was about to walk out of the door when the old woman stopped her. "I think you and the boy forgot these," she handed her four strings of red liquorice shoelaces and winked.

"Thanks Miss Dunridge," we both said at the same time and left the shop.

Shaz gave me a quizzical stare as I followed her to her end of the crescent, "I really don't need a chaperone. I'm quite capable of looking after myself."

"I know, I need to go down the road and see Kinger about football practice on Friday. I meant to tell him on the bus but I forgot."

My lies were getting worse but I was glad when she said, "Whatever."

I dropped her off at the foster home and cut through the allotments to Locksway Road. The wind and rain had blown most of the leaves from the horse chestnut trees onto the pavement, and as I kicked at the piles of leaves that accumulated next to lampposts and telephone booths, I tried to imagine exactly what I was up against. Hospitals were nothing new to me, but I'd never been to a mental hospital and I really wasn't sure what I was about to witness. What if all the patients were locked away in padded cells with only a straightjacket for company? What if Daisy was restrained and a ton of drips pumped drugs into her system? What if I'm attacked by a crazy person roaming the grounds looking for small kids? My heart was beating faster and faster and I could feel the start of a panic attack coming on. I hadn't had one in a while and just the thought of it coming on scared the crap out of me, _man up Fisher_ , and I did.

I stopped as I reached the outer fence of the hospital and stared into the grounds. Grey paths big enough for a car to drive down wound patterns amongst trees and small grass commons. The only sounds were from the trees being bullied by the ever-increasing winds.

I put my head down and pushed on toward the gates where I was met by a guard standing in a hut next to the boom gate. He didn't even bother to check who I was as I walked past him and I can't blame him for wanting to keep dry.

Once inside I studied a large map of the hospital that had been mounted on a massive board and planted into the ground at the intersection of a roundabout. This place was bigger than I expected. Most of the writing made little or no sense to me but I saw the words Paediatric Unit and knew that it meant children's ward. I followed the map to the entrance of the building and waited to gather my thoughts. I had no idea what I was getting into.

_C'mon this is Daisy we're talking about_. I walked into the building and was confronted by a guard who after a few questions pointed me to the Queen Elizabeth ward for children. I was told to ask for Nurse Bolt. She turned out to be a small, skinny, no-nonsense kind of nurse that looked me straight in the eye as if she were examining a bug she was about to obliterate for being in her nice clean hospital.

"Maize, is it?"

"Daisy Maize, yes."

"She's in room 1203." I said thanks and tried to walk away, "Wait boy!" I stood stock still, afraid to even breathe; her voice penetrated my whole body and spiked my soul. "There are conditions."

"Okay" was all I could manage to say.

"First time here eh?"

"Yeah."

She looked me up and down, "Anyone tell you what to expect?"

"Not really."

"Okay," she paused. "Daisy's condition isn't improving. She has a mood disorder that can make her either extremely happy or extremely sad."

"Aren't we all like that?"

"Yes, but her moods are magnified by a thousand percent, maybe even more. She also has rage episodes where she can be a danger to everyone. Right now, she's taken to keeping everything inside and she refuses to speak to anyone. I think you're wasting your time," she looked at the white sticker with my name on that the guard had given me, "James Fisher."

"I'd still like to try."

"Very well, what do you have in there?" she pointed to my old school bag.

"Just school stuff."

"I'll trust you this time James Fisher, but if you give her anything to eat or drink I'll ban you outright, got it?"

"Got it," I lied. If Daisy wanted something to drink there was no way I would hold it back. Nurse Bolt didn't buy into my bullshit.

"I mean it Mister Fisher. She has water and juice in her room and her meal times are important for the drugs. You mess with that and you set her whole recovery back. We've had the pleasure of Miss Maize's company before so you need to trust in the process." I nodded. "Come with me."

She led me through the ward and as we passed the rooms I couldn't help but look into each one, and what I saw scared the crap out of me. There were girls and boys, some tied down to the bed by leather straps. Others had drips going into them as they lay there in a comatose state and the panic in me was raised to a whole new level. She stopped outside of a normal-looking ward room, but the door was closed and I could hear nothing inside. "This is her room?"

"Yes, you have two hours till end of visiting hours. Good luck Mister Fisher and be sure to come and find me before you go."

She walked away and I stood facing the door and another fork in my road. I could turn away and go on to live my normal life with my normal friends and leave Daisy to her doctors. No one would blame a twelve-year-old. But that just wasn't me and I knew the path I would take meant that Daisy Maize and I were on an adventure together. Or maybe it was a nightmare, because to be very honest, I had no idea what was going to happen next, so I knocked, and when no reply came, I opened the door.

Sixteen

The room was as plain a room as I had ever seen; everything was white except for the steel of the bed stand and the chrome taps that dripped water into the white ceramic sink. The bed itself was still made and I thought for a moment that Daisy had gone, but the armchair in the corner of the room faced outwards toward the wall and I had a bad feeling that's where I would find her.

"Hi Daisy, it's James Fisher. I thought you might like some company." My statement was met with silence. I peeked over the top of the chair and saw Daisy curled into a ball with her hands covering her ears. I was totally confused, "Do you want me to go?" Nothing, not even a grunt of recognition. "Do you want a drink?" Still nothing, but at least she wasn't screaming for me to leave.

I walked back over to the sink and took my wet coat and shoes off and dumped my bag onto the floor. I warmed myself on the radiator, took a book from my bag and sat on the floor as close to Daisy as possible. Maybe she just wanted someone to be with her and say nothing, silence is sometimes my best friend and I had nothing to lose by trying. I opened my book and began to read to myself, breathing in huge chunks of words as I went.

As I finished a chapter I looked up and saw Daisy had moved so that her head was close to me and her hands were in her lap but she still refused to look at me. "Want me to read?" Still nothing, "Oh well if you get bored just tell me to shut up." I picked up the book and read the title, "The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien. A friend of mine said this was a good book and I've been meaning to read it ever since I read The Hobbit. Ready?" No response.

The two hours flew past and when it was time to go I closed the book and looked up at Daisy but there was no change, wherever she was, it most certainly was not here with me. I put on my wet shoes and coat and walked back over to say goodbye, but she'd gone back to her original position with her hands over her ears. "See you tomorrow Daisy." I'd never felt as sad as I did right now and as I closed the door and went to find Nurse Bolt I had to fight very hard not to cry.

"Well done James Fisher," the nurse said smiling at me, "reading from that book was an inspired move."

"You saw me?"

She called me around her desk to where there was a monitor where she could watch Daisy's room, "You're spying on her?"

"Don't be silly, we watch to make sure she's safe."

"She's in a hospital, how much safer could she be?"

"Not from us James, from herself."

The realisation dawned on me that Daisy could do such a thing and I bit my tongue, "Oh I didn't realise..."

"It's okay James. You know what therapy is?" I told Nurse Bolt of my own experience with Doctor Goulding and my anxiety. "I'm glad it all worked out for you."

"I don't think it ever does Nurse Bolt. I still have my anxiety and other issues, but what I did learn is that so does everyone else and that it's okay and totally normal."

She nodded and smiled, "And now I understand why they wanted you to come here instead of them."

"I'm sorry?"

"Daisy's only allowed one visitor and all the others have waived their rights so you can be here every day. I wanted to know why you, and now I know. Good to have you on board James Fisher."

"I didn't know that. No pressure then!"

"Nope." She laughed, "See you tomorrow?"

"And the next and the next."

"I believe you."

"I've done this before, my cousin lost all the skin off his body and I helped him. My friend Sana broke her legs in a car crash and I helped her."

"And this is the same as that?"

I thought for a while, "No I guess it isn't."

"No, it isn't. Healing a broken bone or growing new skin is nothing compared to mending a broken heart."

"A broken heart!"

"I'll let you into a secret, I'm not a doctor but I know what's what. I've been around here for twenty years or more and I've seen many people come and go. You want to know my opinion?"

"I do."

"Daisy has a broken heart. When a person is as sad as her and is angry at everything something is very wrong."

"I'll kill whoever did it, I swear!"

"It was probably no one or a few people or just life itself. I hear she's very artistically talented, many great artists, writers, actors and musicians have had trouble with a broken heart."

"Like Hamlet."

"Exactly."

"What do the doctors call it?"

"They call it manic-depressive syndrome. Manic means..."

"Mad."

"No, that's where people get it wrong. Manic means someone can be very emotional. Look at it this way; a person normally has highs and lows, happy and sad, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Well manic is the happiness, times a thousand, and depressive is sad by the same amount. It doesn't mean a person is mad, far from it! I personally think that people like Daisy experience life at a much higher level than most people, and sometimes it gets too much for them."

"And they need a break?"

"You got it."

"So how long does the break normally last?"

"Well, with some people the break can be a permanent one. But Daisy isn't one of those, yet. Wounds take time to heal and everyone is different James."

***

The word _yet_ bothered me as I walked home from the hospital. If I read this right Daisy could become worse and take a permanent break from reality and she would be lost. I had to do everything in my power not to let that happen. If I was going to be successful I would need help. I cut back through the allotments and jumped over the small wall that surrounded the foster home and went in search of Shaz.

A small kid opened the door and pointed me toward the kitchen where Shaz was cooking supper.

"What's up skinny?"

"Nicknames now is it?" I asked sarcastically.

"No just an observation," she pointed at my wet trousers that clung to my legs. "Not your best look."

I ignored the jibe, "We need to talk."

"About you seeing Daisy today?"

"How the hell did you know?"

"I'm not the dumbass you think I am James. Sit down and peel those." She threw a potato peeler my way and I picked up the giant spud. "The rest of you get out now," she yelled at the other kids that came into the kitchen to see why I was there. When they were all gone she closed the kitchen door, "So what's going on?"

"Daisy's in Saint James', she's in a bad way Shaz and she needs our help." To Shaz's credit she never asked why she needed to be part of the plan, she just accepted the fact and sat down opposite me at the table.

"Details?"

"Manic Depressive Syndrome."

"Nasty."

"You know it?"

"Lived in a foster home long enough to have run into it a couple of times. Half the kids here see a shrink every week or so." I looked her straight in the eye. "Well ask me then."

"So, you have it?"

"I've had my problems in the past, anger is normal for a kid like me. You helped with that James, Meesh was a bad influence and you got me out of her crap. I was in a bad way until then."

"I never even noticed."

"What, the black hair and angry face never gave it away?"

"I just thought that was the look you were going for."

"Yeah but no one ever asks do they? We see kids in the street or at school and judge them on the clothes they wear or their haircut or the home they come from. After the judgment comes the ridicule or the worship and then comes the adoration or the hatred and all because we never speak to each other."

I was shocked at how profound Shaz was, and she was damned right, "Oh, well now I feel really crappy."

"Why? You didn't make it like that, it's just the way of things. Been the same for years and years James. It'll never ever change."

"Doesn't mean we all have to be that way."

"No, it doesn't, does it. So back to judging someone, Daisy, how bad do you think she is?"

"I'm not judging Daisy."

"Well you'd better start James!"

"What? I don't get it. I thought judging people was a bad thing."

"Ah, and therein lies the rub. If you can't be the judge of what's best for her, how are we supposed to help?"

"But that's different."

"Is it? People told you that she needed help and you agreed to that, and in so you judged her on their words, or did you say let me see her first?" I shook my head. "So now you've seen her you can judge for yourself, and I bet what they said to you before the visit doesn't mean shit to you now does it?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Kind of weird, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Being a human. I really think we're all a bit off our rockers. If you take all the emotions out of this business with Daisy, what would you do?"

"I don't know."

"Because it's impossible, right? You're emotionally caught up in all the bullshit."

"It's not bullshit," I said defensively.

"Sorry I never meant it that way. Point is, just because you feel strongly about her doesn't mean anything you do will be good for her. You have to trust the doctors and just be you."

"But I am being me."

"And that could be a problem James. I know you well enough to understand just how much you like to meddle in other folks' crap. If you meddle in this, you could end up hurting her more, ever considered that?"

"I think that's why I'm here talking to you. I need help if I'm going to help her."

"And I'm here for you, but this is going to be tough love James. If I see you fucking this up I'm going to be coming to see you and it won't end well. Remember, no judging. No thinking that you know best and no more wanting to be Daisy's boyfriend bullcrap, until this is all done and dusted."

"Got it."

"I mean it James, I'm not her greatest fan but I kinda feel sorry for her and I owe Missus Maize so I'm on board."

"As my conscience."

"As your friend, dumbass."

***

The conversation with Kinger was much easier, men really aren't that deep and as soon as I said I needed his help he was committed. It wasn't really necessary to tell him what was going on, but I did and he sat open-mouthed as I explained what was wrong with Daisy.

His first question was, "When are we breaking her out?" I spent another half an hour telling him why we couldn't do it and another fifteen minutes explaining why I wanted him to do nothing at all. "So why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because you're my best friend, you have a right to know and I might need some backup."

"I thought you just said I don't need to get involved."

Maybe men weren't as easy as I thought, "Emotional backup dickwad."

"Oh. Well I guess so but no hugging and crap like that."

"Trust me there will be none of that from my side."

"Alright you have a deal, and I take it this is between the three of us?"

"As always."

"So, what do we do next?" I shook my head and _tutted_ at him, "Oh right yeah, nothing, I got it, no stress."

***

School was a bit of a nightmare from then on as hour after hour ticked by ever so slowly. I lost interest in everything apart from English with Mertens. He'd been briefed on Daisy's condition and when some of the kids questioned him he lied and said she had some virus brought on by an infection. I cringed as Jenkins looked at me but I refused to match his stare. There was no escaping him at the tea break. "Lying bastard!"

"Who's to say he isn't lying?" I pointed at the teacher.

"Teachers don't lie!"

"Oh really! You'd think so but..." I hoped to heaven that he took the bait.

"But me no buts, Shakespeare!"

"Why? Because he says so? And teachers don't lie?" I had him squared to rights and I could see his confidence waver. "Sir?" I called over to where Mertens stood writing on the board.

"Yes James, how can I help?"

"But me no buts, Shakespeare, or just a challenge for us to figure out?" My code for teacher lies.

"Challenge of course, anyone who knows his eggs from his chickens understands that it wasn't Shakespeare."

I turned back to Jenkins, "Teachers don't lie my ass!" He scowled at me and walked away, one battle down and many more to go!

At the end of the day the rain had let up. We ran from the school and jumped on the bus that, for a change, was on time. I told them the story of Jenkins' failure and they laughed enough to draw the attention of the kids around us. Shaz threw them one of her looks and they all went back to their own lives. The bus ride was just as long as the school day, as someone either got on or got off at every single stop along the way. By the time we got to Furze Lane I was frantic to get to the hospital.

As I got up to leave Shaz said, "Where the hell are you going? Get off with Kinger and you're right outside of the gates."

"But I walk with you."

"Not until she's better you don't."

"But people will see."

"That you're getting off the bus with your best friend! Honestly James for a genius you really are stupid."

I smiled at her, "I'll give you that one."

We jumped off the bus at the Trevor Road stop. Kinger went on his way as I ran across the road and into the hospital grounds. I was out of breath as I walked into the paeds unit and hung back while worried visitors poured in the door as the bell sounded for visiting time.

Nurse Bolt was waiting at her station stuffing paper into manila folders.

"Hiya, how are you today?"

"Me? I'm great and thanks for asking. Most people only ask about the patients, nice to see a boy brought up with good manners, James Fisher. And how are you?"

"All good thanks. How's Daisy?"

"No change but it's early days. Go on, you know the way, and James," I was already halfway to the ward when I turned to see what she wanted, "do not go into any of the other rooms."

I stuck two thumbs into the air, but if she had known me better, she would have understood that now that I knew the rule I would most likely try to break it somehow, even though I took Shaz's warning very seriously.

I rushed through the ward, trying my hardest not to look into the other rooms until I came to Daisy's. I knocked once and waited for the response that I knew wouldn't come, and walked in. Daisy was back in her chair facing the wall. I stripped off my coat and shoes and sat back down in the same place as before. "Hi Daisy, how are you feeling today?" Nothing. "Well I had a crappy day at school." Nothing. I tried something else, "Jenkins sends his love." She moved as far away from me as possible and I could feel her anxiety. "I got you Daisy, don't worry, I got you." I wanted to touch her, to reassure her, but that could be a bad thing so I just opened my book and started to read. After fifteen minutes she'd moved closer to me and her hands were once again resting in her lap.

When the bell rang, I packed my stuff away and said my goodbyes and once again there was no reply. At least I'd learnt not to speak of Jenkins.

As I walked home I started to think of how I could get through to Daisy. The mention of her boyfriend obviously dismayed her; maybe I could use positive statements to get a reaction from instead. When I mentioned it to Shaz later that night, she thumped me in the arm and moaned at me for trying to fix her. I was torn, Shaz was right but Daisy needed my help.

I needed a tie-breaker and phoned Kinger from the telephone box on the corner. "So what should I do?" I asked, after explaining the situation. My question was met with silence and I thought my money had run out. I searched my pocket for more funds but he finally answered.

"I don't get it," he said.

"What? You want me to tell you again?"

"No, you always try to fix things but I think you're full of it."

"Gee thanks!"

"No hang on James. You always go on about helping people, but if you ask me, it's you that needs the fix more than they need the help."

"What the hell?"

"You told me about Sana and you did something good, but you did it for you not her. No one asked you to get involved, did they?"

"No."

"And you would have completely ignored them if they did, right?"

"Yeah I guess so."

"So you did it for you, not them. No, that's not right, you did it for both of you. Helping Sana helped you get through the time in hospital."

"But they asked me to help Daisy!"

"Because you would have just gotten in the way if they didn't! I can guarantee one hundred percent that if they hadn't we would have been hunting her down, and when we found her we would have been trying to break her out. Tell me I'm wrong!"

He had me bang to rights. "I can't, you're spot on. What am I supposed to do?" I pleaded with him.

"You're such a twat James. You know damn well what to do. You've told me a dozen times already!" He slammed the phone down on me.

Well that didn't go well. I was outvoted two to one and I was left with no choice but to trust in the process and do nothing. She was broken and I couldn't fix it any faster, no matter what I did. But there was still one more opinion I wanted to try, and as I pulled open the heavy metal door of the red phone box, rain poured from heavy black clouds that hung over the locks. I looked up and cursed my luck for not bringing an umbrella from home, pulled my hood over my head and went in search of Missus Maize.

The old woman either spent a lot of time standing outside of her shack or she truly was a witch who knew I was coming around to visit. She waved at me to hurry up and I rushed through the gate and into the house.

"Leave your wet coat and shoes by the door and come into the kitchen. I'll put the kettle on. You need to be careful James Fisher, you could get sick carrying on in the rain like that."

"I'm good Missus Maize." I walked into the kitchen and plonked myself down in my normal chair and waited for her to sit down. "I need to ask you something."

"About Daisy?"

"Yeah."

"Then no."

"No?"

"Remember I asked if you loved her? You said yes. Daisy needs to heal and you're here to ask me how you can help right?"

My turn to be cryptic, "No."

"No?"

"I do love her and I know the best thing to do is exactly what I'm doing. I have good friends that make sure I don't go overboard."

"I'm impressed so far, carry on."

"I need to know more about what she likes. Books, music, movies, you know stuff like that. She's not talking and I want to tell her things she will relate to in a good way."

"Promise me you're not going to try and outdo the doctors, 'cause if you do, I'm going to kick your ass."

"I have to admit that I was going to, but now I think I get why I'm the one to go and see her."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Because I'm an outsider, not part of the real problem. Someone she can talk to when she wants to, someone she can scream with if she needs to. Someone who won't bring emotion into her healing. Someone who most definitely will not tell her he loves her." _Until the time is right._

She looked at me for the longest time before saying, "You've come a long way boy, but that's not the only reason."

"Oh?"

"She likes you, told me herself one day, and even though you may think that is a good thing it could be very bad if you try to pursue it while she's not herself. If you mess with her emotions James Fisher two things will happen." I nodded nervously. "First thing is she will never trust you...ever. Second thing is our time together will come to an abrupt end. I love Daisy even more than her parents do, and if you try to take advantage of her we will have an issue. It will serve you well to remember that I am the Bird Witch."

I gulped, I'd been threatened before but never like this, and I was figuratively quaking in my boots, "You have my word Missus Maize."

"Good," she picked up a notepad and threw it over to me, "you might want to make a list of these things then." Missus Maize spent the next hour telling me all about Daisy from when she was a child right up until she went into hospital the first time. She'd been a dancer until her first episode and the depression had hit her so hard that she'd given it up. She could draw and paint, Missus Maize even showed me some of her work and it was good, really good. She'd been a twin, but her brother didn't survive childbirth and Missus Maize said that was why Daisy's mother wasn't always the best of mothers to her.

She excelled at school but had been held back a year after her first episode and it irked her to speak about it. She loved reading the classics and listened to every type of music. As for movies and TV, the old woman didn't have a clue as she didn't watch the telly at all, and had no concept about going to the movie house. Daisy also loved wild flowers and anything to do with the countryside. The Bird Witch said that Daisy got that from her side of the family, and that long ago her parents had owned a farm. I just sat and soaked it all up in the hope that when I spoke to Daisy she would find some comfort in the words.

***

Day after day crawled by, and Daisy still just sat in her chair staring at the wall, not once acknowledging my presence other than to lean closer as I read. At the end of the first week I searched for Nurse Bolt to ask her if the doctors were making progress, but she just looked sad and shook her head.

Visiting periods over the weekend were extended to twice a day. Daisy's parents would see her during the lunchtime session and I would read to her in the evening. From my untrained point of view, she seemed worse after their visits, but when I told Missus Maize she just shrugged and told me she wasn't prepared to get into that fight with them. I let it be.

The nights were drawing in, and as I left the hospital on the Saturday, the wind was blowing a gale and the rain came down in horizontal waves, soaking every single part of me. I let the hood of my parka drop back and let the torrent blast into my face. I needed the cold to remind me that I had a job to do, and if truth be known I was getting a little despondent.

I walked out of the hospital gates to find Shaz waiting for me, "Hey, how did you know I was here?"

"Where else you going to be?"

"Point taken."

"Missus Maize told me you're struggling."

"I never told her."

"I don't think you have to, she has a way."

"I know right? Do you really think she is a Bird Witch?"

"Depends on your definition of what a Bird Witch is I suppose."

"Well it's a...um..."

"Exactly, I think we came up with that name. Doesn't mean she isn't a Bird Witch though. She could have used a spell to make us call her that. Maybe her power is in her name being spoken. We don't know."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Am I?" Shaz put her head down and walked back up Locksway Road towards the safety of our warm houses. As we rounded the corner next to the foster home she stopped, "You know I see Missus Maize when you're not there, don't you?"

"Sure, why?"

"I hope it doesn't bug you."

"Why should it?"

"She was yours first."

"My what?" I laughed but she remained serious.

"She has a way of making things less painful. She's like; I don't know how to put it."

"Like someone you can tell anything to and you know your secrets will be safe, even though she moans and groans like an old tree bending in the wind?"

"I was thinking more like a grandmother, but yeah I guess you're close enough."

"Does she always seem to know when you're coming around?"

"She waits on the porch, leaning against the wall with that look on her face."

"Yeah that look, sort of _I know you've done something wrong look._ "

"Nah it's more of an, _I know you've done something wrong but it's okay we can talk about it look._ "

"Yeah that's about right."

"She feels like family, doesn't she?"

"Yes, I think she does, well is. I think life knows when you need some help and when fate is in a good mood it sends you the right person."

"Fate sent me you, and you took me to Missus Maize."

"Well it all happened long before that actually. If Furmidge hadn't chased me I wouldn't have fallen through the roof."

"And if you hadn't have kicked Roser in the nuts he wouldn't have chased you."

"And if Meesh hadn't been such a bitch I may have just walked away."

"And if your aunty had bollocks she'd be your uncle."

"What?" I looked up to see Shaz laughing. "It's something my brother would say to me."

"I never knew you had a brother."

"That's because I'm not as interesting as the broken princess, and you've never asked me."

I felt sick, "Sorry Shaz."

"Whatever James."

"No, I mean it. I've been on my own mission and I haven't had time for my friends and that sucks."

"Get little Miss Silent better and we can all get back to being our normal chatty selves."

"You sure you don't mind? If you need me I'll be there for you I promise."

"James Fisher, you've done more for me than I could ever repay, but that's not what friendship is about. It's what you do without reward, it's believing in each other and about having each other's backs. Right now I have yours, and when I need you I know you'll be there. I just didn't want you thinking I was stealing Missus Maize from you."

"I think Missus Maize could take on a hundred of us and there would still be room for another hundred. It's one of her powers."

"Yeah I think you're right."

***

Instead of going home I visited Missus Maize, and as the shack came into view the rain let off to a light drizzle. Missus Maize was in her garden cutting back some rose bushes using the small garden light that I had fixed earlier in the year, deadheading the ends as she went. It looked strange to see someone gardening in the dark but she didn't seem to care. "Hi."

"Good evening young man, what are you doing around here?"

"Just came to tell you that there is no change in Daisy's condition and, I don't know, I just needed to say hi I guess."

She carried on pruning, "You know what these are?"

"Roses?"

"Correct, to be precise they are called Dog Roses, tough as old boots and seem to love the soil around here. If I didn't cut them back they'd be taking over the entire garden."

"Dog Rose? What a horrible name."

She stopped pruning and leaned against the fence seemingly not bothered by the rain, "You know better than to judge anything by its name. This," she held up a limp flower, "has many medicinal qualities and the fruit makes a delicious tea. It's the flower of Hampshire you know."

"I did not know that."

"It also has a secret that could be very useful to someone like you James Fisher, and if I were a boy about your size with a thirst for knowledge, I would take a trip to the library to find out exactly what that secret may be."

"No, don't do that to me Missus Maize, tell me please..."

"It's past your home time young man, and you don't want to get into trouble so off you go and tell Daisy I love her." She walked back into the shack without looking back at me as I stormed away in frustration.

I tossed and turned the whole night wondering why a Dog Rose could be of some help with Daisy. Maybe she had a dog named Rose, but I never saw or heard it when I got caught visiting her house. Maybe she just loved roses but then why this one in particular? It wasn't like it was one of the prettier roses.

***

As day broke over the city I was already up and battling Mum's porridge. I caught the early bus to school and went to the library before the rest of the kids got there and the school day begun. If I'd thought it through more I would have realised that for the library to be open there had to be a teacher, and they only got there just before the kids. I sat down on the floor, leaned against the door and took the copy of the Lord of the Rings book out of my bag. I was returning it to the library as I had finished reading it to Daisy. As I looked at the grey mountains on the front cover I thought of Frodo being lost to the power of the ring, and I couldn't help but make the connection to Daisy's condition. She could have been spelled by another witch! But the more I thought about it, the more I knew that it was just my imagination running wild. I sighed and turned to page one.

It was an hour before the teacher arrived to unlock the doors, I'd gotten to know her quite well and when she saw me waiting, she quickly went about her business. I dropped the books off on the counter and ran toward the nature section of the room. I scanned the rows and rows of books on animals and plants but I saw no roses. I was getting frustrated and the clock was against me. In ten minutes, the bell would ring and I'd have to wait until lunchtime to solve the puzzle.

"I've never seen you in this section before Mister Fisher."

"Oh, hi Miss Turner," I looked into her eyes, the resemblance to her daughter was uncanny and I was embarrassed when I remembered seeing Sophie underneath my brother. I looked away quickly before she could see how embarrassed I was.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

I kept my eyes on the rows of books with their tags lines up in neat little rows, "Dog Roses."

"That's the flower of Hampshire you know."

"I do, but there something else important about it that I need to find out."

"Oh, and why's that?"

" _Erm_ ...quiz question," I said quickly.

"Oh, I do like quizzes. Well let's see, it's a climbing rose with many medicinal properties."

"Yeah I know all of that. There's something else. I think it's something to do with the dog part."

"It's an unfortunate name. Did you know they used to use it to treat the bite of a rabid dog?"

"No, I didn't," I said, trying to sound as interested as I could. Then she gave me the answer to the riddle and I kicked myself for being so stupid.

"To treat the bite of a mad dog, a dog that made people mad. How crazy is that?"

"Not at all Miss Turner, thank you," I called as I rushed past her out of the library just as the bell rang.

At the end of the day I met up with the others, and borrowed enough money to go to the plant shop in Milton Road and bought a small Dog Rose shrub in a brown pot. The thing looked a little dishevelled, and the woman behind the counter told me that it would probably die off soon because of the cold, and that if I looked after it the plant would grow back in the spring. It only had five flowers on it and by the time I carried it into Daisy's room and put it next to her bed two had already fallen off. I didn't know exactly what I expected to happen, but I found myself staring at the plant hoping for a miracle that never came. I sighed and sat down on the floor next to Daisy's chair and proceeded to tell her all the positive news I could remember. When I ran out of things to say I took out a new book and started to read.

As I left, I made sure the plant had water and said, "Look after her while I'm gone."

***

By the time the weekend came around there was still no change in Daisy's condition and I was feeling hopeless. As I dragged my feet down Locksway Road I had a feeling that I just wasn't the person to help. I'd never given up on anything in my life, but I knew the time was coming where I would have to make a decision on what was best for Daisy, as I clearly wasn't doing any good.

Nurse Bolt watched me walk through the doorway and I tried to smile but my face wouldn't listen to my brain.

"Problem Mister Fisher?"

I didn't want to lie to the nurse so I asked her a question instead, "How do you do it? I mean how do you come in here day after day and see no change in people. How do you sleep at night?"

"Come here and sit down, now what's really bothering you?"

"I don't think I'm making any difference at all. What if I'm not the right person for this?"

She shook her head, "Don't you think I would have chased you away if I thought that were true?"

"I guess so," I said with my head on my chest. "I'm just not getting anywhere."

"Oh really? What makes you think that?"

"She just sits there and says nothing, she doesn't even look at me."

"But she listens, doesn't she?"

"Yeah I guess so."

"She doesn't listen to anyone else. She just holds her hands to her ears to all of the doctors and most of the nurses."

"Most of them?"

"You're not the only one with super powers, Mister Fisher," she winked at me and I felt a little better. "I want to show you something, I've been saving it for just this occasion."

"Colour me interested."

She led me over to the desk with the monitor and I climbed up onto the stool to get a better view. "I don't think anyone else has seen this yet, so keep it between you and me, okay. If the family or her doctors find out they might push her too fast, and we'll be back to stage one."

I frowned at her in confusion and she turned my head toward the screen and pressed a button on the controller, and a picture of Daisy lying in bed appeared. "She's asleep."

"Wait and watch."

After thirty seconds or so Daisy got out of bed, poured some water into a glass and fed the plant as she stood next to it, swaying from side to side, "What's she doing?"

"There's no sound but I think she's singing."

I had never felt so happy, "She's better!"

The nurse turned off the screen and sat next to me, "No, but it's an improvement and it's because of you. Don't ever feel that you're not making a difference. You don't know what happens when you're not here. You gave Daisy a reason to get up and do something, those doctors just want to pump her full of drugs, but they should take a leaf from your book James Fisher. Good job young man, now I believe there is a young lady waiting for her story."

"She knows I'm coming?"

"Twenty minutes before you get here she climbs out of her bed and sits on that chair, twenty minutes after you leave she goes back to bed. She's done that every day since the second day you came here. You starting to get the picture?"

I felt a weight on my shoulder like never before, "She's reacting to my visits. Which means she's making choices and that means she's thinking in this world."

"Yes, I guess you could call it another world if you want to see it in that way. You are probably the most important person in her life right now, and she's hanging on to you."

"I'm her lifeline?"

"Very much so. I don't want to think what will happen if you stop coming Mister Fisher."

"No chance of that Nurse Bolt." I jumped off the chair and ran to Daisy's room, where she sat in the corner facing the wall with her hands in her lap and a Dog Rose plaited into her hair.

I took up my normal position and told her the news, but without looking at me she held out her hand and touched mine, "Read...please."

I didn't try to engage her, I just picked up Emilie Bronte's _Wuthering Heights_ , and started from page one.

Seventeen

Daisy only spoke three words that day, the last one was, "Thanks." My friends were right, I'd stayed the course and now Daisy was in a slightly better place than she was before.

I grinned at Nurse Bolt, "She spoke."

"Well done James Fisher, but now the real work starts. Don't be late, don't take a day off and whatever happens, stay positive."

I nodded and walked home with my head held high and skip in my step which only lasted until I saw Mum's face. She was standing at the sink washing the same plate over and over again. Sean ran down the stairs and waved at me to follow him back up. "What the hell happened?" I asked as we stood in no man's land between our rooms.

"Aunt Christy died."

"Oh, hell no!" Aunt Christy was Mum's older sister. She was in her late seventies and when my gran died giving birth to Mum, Aunt Christy had raised her as a daughter. In her later years she'd been moved up to Newcastle to be closer to her brother as Mum couldn't look after her here because of work, and it was the one thing that Mum always hated herself for. Christmas was the worst time and Mum always had a cry when Dad did his toast to absent friends. "I can't go Sean! She spoke today. I can't leave her now."

"Well you'd better work it out with Dad when he gets home and leave Mum alone."

I just wanted to go and hug her, but I knew that if I did I would say something about not going and I would be the one that broke Mum's heart on the day that her sister died, and I wasn't about to be that kid. "I'll make a plan."

"You reckon?" he said opening his bedroom door and disappearing into the darkness.

I followed suit and lay with my head facing the bottom of my bed and my feet up against the wall behind my pillow. This was my best thinking position and I needed all the help I could get in finding a way to stay at home when everyone else headed up country to Newcastle. I heard the growl of Jenkins' beige Volvo pull up and couldn't help myself from spying on them from my window, but when Jenkins stepped out and held the door open for Melisa Sturridge I lost it and flew down the stairs and out of the front door. "What the fuck do you think you're doing Jenkins? Daisy is still in hospital and you're already on to her replacement!"

Melisa was a quiet, plain-looking girl I'd seen around the playground from time to time. "Fuck off Fisher," Jenkins said, but his Dad heard him swear and told him off which enraged him even more than my outbreak. He left Melisa at the gate and marched over toward me.

No way was I backing down and I closed the distance as fast as I could, just waiting for the chance to kick his ass, "What you going to do about it?"

"What the hell are you doing, that's my family over there for God's sake!"

"Daisy deserves better than an idiot that would two-time her as she lay in hospital. Do you have no standards Jenkins?"

"You don't know shit," he started to walk away.

"Hey where you going? I haven't finished with you yet. You going to do the same to Melisa?"

He turned around and punched me in the face so hard that my backside hit the concrete road surface before I had a chance to say another word, "She dumped me, asshole! And all I got was a stinking letter before she went sick! Screw you and screw her too."

I just sat there with blood pouring down my nose and staining my school shirt that awful pink colour. I saw Shaz running toward us and as she got close enough I called her to come and help me up and not go and kick Jenkins' ass. "What the hell happened James?"

"I opened my mouth at the wrong time and got what I deserved."

"Never a dull moment with you James Fisher!"

I nodded and stood up, "C'mon I need to see Missus Maize. I have a serious problem."

"Worse than a punch in the face?"

"Much worse."

***

I'd told Shaz the news of Aunt Christy's demise as we walked around the locks, and as I told the Bird Witch the same story, Shaz made the tea. She listened intently until I came to the news of Daisy and then her mood lightened and she seemed to let out a long, tired breath. "So, the problem is that my family will have to go to Newcastle for the funeral and I'll have to go with them."

" _Hmmm_ ...you want to go?"

"No, I want to stay and help Daisy."

"Your Aunt was family James."

"With all due respect to her Missus Maize, she's dead, and Daisy's still here and needs my help more than me going to a funeral."

"Your mother will definitely see things from another perspective. How do you plan on staying? Got a tent to pitch in the grounds of the hospital? Or a rich uncle that will put you up in some fancy hotel?"

"No. And I don't know."

"You don't know if you have a rich uncle?"

I felt a wave of anger swell up in my belly and looked up into her face but she was smiling, "Just pulling your leg James, relax and we can chat this through." I took a deep breath and nodded calmly, "So the problem is twofold, firstly how can we make your mum feel better, and secondly how do we get her to let you stay. That about the size of it?"

"Pretty much yeah."

"Well first things first, you need to give your mother time to process the death and let her grieve. You of all people know that time is important to her James."

"And secondly?"

"There is no secondly. Stick to the plan with Daisy and let everything else run its course, no arguments, no nothing, got it?"

"But they'll make me go to Newcastle and Daisy will be alone!"

"You will be your mother's son, and when you're not at the hospital you will do exactly what she says young man! She just lost someone very dear to her and I'll be damned if I let you go and make things worse."

I hung my head on my chest, "Sorry Missus Maize."

"Think he will ever stop saying that?" Shaz asked as she poured the tea.

Missus Maize ignored her, "Right, drink that and then take this home and make it for your mum."

She handed me a small, brown, paper packet which I opened and smelled, "What is that?"

"Rosehip tea, homemade and very good for the soul. She'll feel better after she's sipped it for a while and it'll help her sleep. Now what's the plan James Fisher?"

"To do as I'm told and support the family."

"Damn right it is."

***

It took a couple of days to plan the trip; we would be leaving on Friday after school and driving up overnight. Dad was used to staying awake because of his shifts, and Mum could drive when he got tired. Not once did I complain or speak of staying and as I sat at Daisy's side reading to her on the Thursday night, I couldn't make up my mind if I should tell her or not. I'd broached the subject with Missus Maize, but she was being her normal cryptic self and told me to trust in the process. I had to admit that I had no idea what the process was. I chickened out and left, sad and annoyed, the feeling of failure pulled my soul in opposite directions to my mind and I came close to going back and telling her what was happening, but that could just make things worse. I was in a no-win situation and I hated every second it took for me to leave the hospital.

The walk home was lonely and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I needed time in my own head. I took the longest way around I could think of, but as I reached the hole in the wall I just couldn't bear to be at home surrounded by yet more sadness. I turned away and walked to where the boats bobbed up and down on the full tide, and the seagulls cried into the wind. I needed solitude to work through my feelings and the locks was always the best place for that. I crossed the bridge and stared at the grey skies above the harbour that threatened even more rain. I didn't think that my mood could sour any more, but as the rain started to fall I cursed fate for being such a sad bastard. I walked to the slipway and sat down on the concrete seabreak wall. I was exhausted, and as I stared out over the mass of small fishing boats trying to hold onto their moorings with everything they had, I had a moment of utter despair at the hopelessness of my situation.

I had no idea how long I sat there thinking, but night started to fall and it was time to go home and pack for the trip.

Mum, Dad and Sean were already sitting around the dinner table as I burst in through the door, dropped my bag and apologised for being late.

"Relax James, we need to talk." I looked at Dad's face but I couldn't make out any emotions other than sadness. The whole family had been sad ever since the news broke about the death and Mum hardly said a word. "We think it's best you don't come with us Son."

I didn't know how to react, in one way I was relieved and in another I felt discarded, like I'd done something wrong, "Why?"

Mum put her hand on Dad's and squeezed it, "Because we want you to carry on with Daisy. We spoke to Missus Maize and she said you could stay with her. Is that okay with you?" I nodded in disbelief, "We also spoke to Nurse Bolt who told us what you've managed to accomplish and we're very proud of you."

I was gobsmacked, "But what about the funeral?"

"We've got it covered. We'll be back late Sunday night so stay there until Monday morning okay?"

"Okay." I wanted to say thanks but it just seemed so inappropriate.

"Go pack, she'll be expecting you, and James, do not get into any trouble while we're away or this will be the last time we trust you."

"I got it Mum."

"You'd better Son. I don't think Missus Maize will be as gentle on your backside as me or your dad would be."

I ran up the creaky old wooden staircase and sat down on my bed. Somehow fate hadn't been the bastard I painted it to be and I felt guilty for calling it out. Mum always closed my bedroom window when I wasn't at home and the air in the room felt thick and stiflingly dry. I flung the window open and flooded the room with the freezing cold winter wind.

Time to move, I grabbed as many clean pairs of pants and socks as I could find, and threw them into my bag, along with a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans. I didn't bother to change out of my school clothes, and my trainers were always a permanent part of what made up my daily collection of school must haves. I examined myself in the full-length mirror, and stared at a young boy with a bag slung over his shoulder and a tear-stained face.

The cold water tap in the bathroom was always the one I struggled to open, being the smallest in the family had its downside, but it gave way easily enough and I washed the dirt and grime from my hands and rinsed my face. Next in to the bag went a bar of half-used soap, my toothbrush (but I couldn't find any toothpaste), a semi-dry towel and an old plastic comb I got for Christmas in a wallet, comb and pen set. I hated those sorts of gifts; they were pointless and showed a serious lack of imagination.

_Get a move on before they change their minds._ I made sure my trip down the stairs was a lot more subdued than the climb and took a deep breath before I said my goodbyes. It was harder than I thought and Mum and I had a good cry. I could see that Dad was close too and Sean disappeared upstairs as quickly as he could.

"Go!" Mum said as I opened the door and looked back to where she was blowing her nose.

"Love you Mum."

"Love you James."

***

Shaz was waiting at the bottom of the garden, and as I sniffed back a tear she offered me her partially used paper tissue, which I quickly declined. "How bad was it?"

"What do you think? Hang on, how did you even know?"

"It's what we witches do."

"We witches?"

"I'm training to be a Bird Witch with Missus Maize."

I looked at her and tried to gauge whether she was joking or not but she kept a straight face, "You're joking, right?"

"I dunno, am I?"

Well that was what a Bird Witch would say and since I had no idea about Missus Maize's witchy practices, and as I was going to be sleeping at her place, I didn't want to know, "Well okay, I guess. Let's get going before Mum changes her mind and throws me into the back seat of the car."

"Sure, let me call my broom and my pointy hat," she laughed.

So, this was her way of cheering me up, "Funny!"

"Yeah well you look like you need a bit of funny in your life right now."

She was right, sadness is contagious and if left unchecked a person could end up, well, like Daisy, and no one deserves that much sadness in their life. "What have I missed?"

"Not much actually, life's always a little quiet when Mister James, _I'll take on the world singlehandedly_ , Fisher isn't around. Unless you want to hear the gossip about Missus Green from forty-two hooking up with old Millington from seventy-six?"

" _Urgh_ , no thanks."

"Oh, there was one thing, but I didn't want to bother you."

"And?"

"And Furmidge was let out for good behaviour, if you can believe that!"

I swear that my heart skipped a couple of beats, "Oh hell no! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because it's not a big deal."

I couldn't think of a bigger deal, "What the hell Shaz, that's the biggest deal possible!"

"Let me finish! He came around the crescent two days ago looking for you so I cornered him and threatened him."

"Thanks Shaz but..."

"Stop butting in and listen."

"He had no intention of hitting you. He said he found God and wanted to apologise to you. Seems like the big man upstairs intervened, if you believe in all of that stuff?"

"You believe him?"

"I didn't until I felt a hand on my arm, and when I turned around I nearly threw a punch at a dude in a dog collar who had one of those 'I forgive you' smiles. Super creepy! So yeah, I believe him. Didn't stop me from letting him know exactly what would happen if he ever came close to you though."

"Should I go look for him then?"

"Nah, he's gone off to some reform school with his priest friend. Don't think we'll see much of Furmidge for a while. You should have seen the look on Meesh's face when he told her. I wish I'd had a camera handy when she'd tried to kiss him and the man in the collar walked between them. I swear she was going to hit him until she saw me standing close by. It was helllllerious!"

"I wish I'd seen that." Not once had I ever felt jealous of Shaz up until that point, "What did the rest of the kids do?"

"I don't even think they cared. As soon as he went it was football as normal."

"Those guys are so shallow."

"Judging again James?"

"My worst trait, isn't it?"

"Well it's definitely in the top five," she walked on, laughing.

"Hey wait up! What do you mean top five?"

***

I'd only ever had egg and chips at Missus Maize's house and I was interested to see what she cooked for supper. She showed me to a small room upstairs in the A-framed shack, and I felt right at home even though there was a pink blanket and a Barbie pillow case. Beggars can't be choosers, and if I was right this was where Daisy slept when she visited. I unpacked my stuff into a small wooden cabinet and dropped my toiletries off in the bathroom that consisted of a loo, a bath and a sink, all of which were so small I wondered how Missus Maize managed to clean herself. The thought of her slipping around in the small bath made me laugh, then I had a vision of her naked. I shivered and most definitely did not have an urge.

I took the stairs in twos and ran straight into Missus Maize who was standing at the bottom, looking at me as if I'd broken a rule, "What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"So why the look?"

"Just in case you did." She winked at me and walked to the front door where Shaz was trying to teach Mr Poe to say, Hello, with no success whatsoever.

"Some Bird Witch you are," I joked, but both women rounded on me and I knew I'd crossed a line.

"Thinks he's knows about Bird Witches," Shaz said, a little too aggressively for my liking.

"No respect for the old ways!" Missus Maize replied.

"None! It's a disgrace."

"Absolute debacle of the worst sort."

"What should we do with him Missus Maize?"

Okay this was going too far, but they hadn't finished, "Mr Poe used to make comments like that. You want to end up like Mr Poe?"

"Nooo," I stuttered and started to back out of the room.

Both women looked at each other and laughed aloud. "James, you really are a dumbass," Shaz quipped.

"Sit down boy and stop being so touchy, even a Bird Witch can't turn a boy into a crow."

"Very funny, both of you!" I sat down, but I was still a little taken aback.

"A raven maybe, but never a crow."

I caught Missus Maize's stare as a smile crossed her lips, "Thanks for having me Missus Maize."

"We don't eat little boys, so there will be no having you James Fisher."

Shaz laughed again, "There's no meat on him in any case."

I was outnumbered and outgunned so I just sat there and took the abuse. When the two of them had stopped ragging on me Missus Maize sat quietly and Shaz went to the kitchen to stir her cauldron, her words, not mine! After a while Missus Maize seemed to make her mind up about something and coughed, "Tomorrow's a big day James Fisher."

I waited for the rest of the sentence but she just sat there looking at the scruffy looking crow. "Why?" I asked after I couldn't wait any longer.

"You have a test."

"Oh, okay, no problem."

"But you don't know what the test is. How can you say okay without knowing what's involved?"

"Because I trust you Missus Maize and I think that you trust me."

She went back to her thinking as Mr Poe walked up and down his perch, rubbing his beak on the wood. "I do trust you James Fisher," she said at last. "Tomorrow Daisy's mum will be telling her that she will be moving out of the house and leaving for London."

"Daisy's moving?"

"I never said that James. I said her mother was moving. Seems her job is more important than her family. She's leaving Daisy with her dad."

"They're getting a divorce!"

"No, they're separating because they say they don't love each other anymore. It's all nonsense to me but I have little say in the matter."

"Her mum's timing sucks!" Or was fate throwing rocks again?

"Indeed, it does. But there is an upside. The doctors think Daisy has made enough of a recovery to be released for a couple of hours a day so she can walk around the grounds. You've been chosen to be her chaperone, should she not be too upset by the news of her mother leaving that is."

"I don't know what to say!"

"Well you'd better get to thinking about exactly that! She'll be more vulnerable than ever, and when she thinks she has a problem to solve she is very much like you. She may even want to go and sort things out at home, and you cannot let that happen." I nodded, "Promise me James Fisher."

"I promise." We trusted each other and I never had to say those words out loud, but sometimes a person needs reassuring anyway. I caught a whiff of the chip pan frying away in the kitchen, "Egg and chips?"

"Well what else do you think we Bird Witches eat?"

Eighteen

The news of her mother leaving had exactly the effect I didn't expect, Daisy went from sad and docile to angry as hell and extremely vocal. I could hear her shouting at the nurses as I walked into the ward. Nurse Bolt called me over and pointed to the monitor, "She's in a bad place James. Maybe you should take the day off?"

"No, I'll deal with it." Did I have a plan? No, I didn't, but I wasn't going to let Daisy be alone on a day that would devastate even the most hard-hearted person.

"Okay," the nurse sighed, "but if she gets too bad we may have to sedate her."

"Just give me a chance."

"I'll be watching James. If you can't handle her put up both hands as a sign and I'll be there as fast as these old legs will carry me."

"It'll be fine," I lied as my heart tried to beat out of my chest.

"Then good luck James. She's had a really bad day and you've never seen her angry before."

But I had, and a plan started to form in my mind, "Just trust the process."

"I'm sorry?"

"Just don't come in too quickly and give me a chance okay?" She nodded, but the look on her face betrayed her thoughts. "And I'm going to be making quite a lot of noise."

As I walked down the corridor I never once looked inside any of the other rooms, my eyes were firmly set on the door to Daisy's room. She was screaming words that I couldn't make head or tale of. It sounded just like a mishmash of everything in her vocabulary, screamed all at once. I was a little scared at what I would find inside. _Man up and whatever you do don't look afraid!_ I knocked on the door and a torrent of swear words flooded out. _C'mon just do it!_ I opened the door and walked into a maelstrom of pillows being thrown toward me. I batted them away and faced Daisy head on.

"What do you want?" she screamed.

"Hi."

"What...do...you...want?" she screamed louder.

"I came to read for you."

"Do I look like I want to hear a fucking story?"

"Not really." Why is it that my words seem to fail me whenever I'm faced with a Daisy Maize-sized problem?

"Not fucking really? What are you, some sort of retard?"

I stuttered and wanted to speak but nothing came out other than an, "Um."

"Genius! Um, will make everything fine and dandy, won't it?"

She was starting to piss me off, "So will screaming at everyone, won't it?"

She looked at me with so much hatred I almost took a step backwards, "What the fuck do you know about it? Get the fuck out of my room."

"No."

"Get out!" She took a threatening step toward me.

"No." I held my ground.

"Get out!" She threw a steel tray from her bedside table at me. I had no choice but to back away, but as I turned to go she screamed, "Where the hell are you going?"

"You told me to go!"

" _Argh_ , why is it no one gets me?" she turned around, walked to the wall where I usually sat and kicked it so hard I thought she might break a toe.

I had to think quickly. I only had one idea and it was going to be shit or bust. I closed the door, ran to the bed, climbed on and pulled the sheet over my head. The screaming stopped but I could sense she didn't move. "Come on before the tide comes in!" I shouted at her and held the sheet open enough for her to climb under. She looked like she just wanted to fight with me and the gleam in her eye said that she would probably win, but as I gestured for her to hurry up her facial muscles relaxed and she took a step toward me. "C'mon we don't have long!" That seemed to tip the scales and she climbed into the bed and sat opposite me and just stared at me with so much intensity that I wanted to look away, but if I did I knew it would be game over, "Angry?"

Her jaw muscles clenched, but instead of offloading on me she just nodded.

"Same here!" Her head cocked to one side as if she were asking why, but why didn't matter, and I screamed the word, "Fuck!" as loudly as I could over and over, until she joined in. We let the whole world know exactly how angry we were until we were both exhausted. "Feel any better?"

"No. Yes, I don't really know."

"And that's okay Daisy, we're just kids and we're not supposed to know what grownups know, because they sure as shit don't know what we know."

"And what do we know?"

"That some things are bad enough to make us hate, and we shouldn't have to hate, should we?"

"I told her I hated her tons of times, but I never meant it James. She's leaving."

"I know."

Tears started to pour down her face, "It's all my fault."

I wanted to be one hundred percent honest with Daisy, "Not all your fault, some of it may be, but definitely not all of it."

"Aren't you supposed to be here to make me feel better?" she sniffed as some snot ran from her nose.

"You want me to lie to you?" I stuck my head out of the sheet tent and grabbed the box of tissues. "Here, wipe your nose."

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then I'll think you're gross and go find me a non-snotty person to talk to." I ventured a smile, she never returned it, but she did wipe her nose.

"What am I supposed to do James?"

"Nothing."

"Great help you are."

"What can you do? You can't fix something you didn't break. Your mum and dad have made their plans and you just have to try and accept it."

"And if I can't?"

"You will. We're kids, we're good at that sort of thing." Having seen Daisy at her best and worst I truly believed this in theory, but in practice...well...

"It's going to get really ugly, isn't it?"

"From what I've seen so far, life can be ugly, but I've seen it when it's fantastic as well."

"That cup's always half full for you, isn't it?"

"No, not at all. When I'm on my own I have serious doubts about everything."

"So do I. What do you do to cope?"

I couldn't say what I wanted to; I'd promised Missus Maize I wouldn't tell Daisy about my feelings for her...yet. "I have friends and a family I can talk to when I need to sort through my own crap. What do you do to cope?" I knew the answer, but it may help Daisy to say it out loud.

"I don't."

"No friends?"

"Boyfriends yes, but no real friends. I'm not the easiest person to be around."

"Well you have one."

"You want to be my friend, after all of this crap?"

"Sure, I wouldn't be here if I didn't consider you my friend."

"I thought Gran told you to come and read to me."

"No one told me to read to you. I just love books and I know you do too. You didn't want to really listen to anything else."

"Easier to live in a world that doesn't want to mess you up every time you poke your head up and take a look around."

"Amen to that."

We sat and chatted for the rest of the time, and when the bell went we climbed out from underneath the sheet and I helped her tidy the room, "Same time tomorrow?"

"I'll be waiting."

"Daisy?"

"What?"

"The nurses are alright, you know."

"I know, I'll try."

"It's all good. See you tomorrow." Her face was covered in dark streaks from her crying, and her hair was a greasy mess, but she had never looked more beautiful to me than she looked as I left the room.

Nurse Bolt was waiting for me at the station, "Very unorthodox Mister Fisher."

"Sorry Nurse Bolt."

"For what? She's been screaming since her mother told her the news, who knew that all she needed to do was scream some more."

"Sometimes you just have to get it all out to get other things in."

"Out of the mouths of babes."

"Shakespeare?"

"No, a much more widely read author than even he, Matthew 21:16."

"Ah, the Bible."

She smiled as a young nurse came over and started speaking. I took a deep breath and walked away. "James," she called me back. "If you're going to take Daisy out tomorrow bring something to keep her dry okay?"

"Sure thing Nurse Bolt."

"Good job Mister Fisher!"

***

That night as I tossed and turned in Daisy's bed, I struggled to understand what it was that made her so much more emotional that anyone I'd ever met before. I'd looked up the meaning of her illness and understood the medical definition, but there was never a reason given as to why it happens to a person. They called it a chemical imbalance in the brain and that it ran in families. I could only imagine how bad it must be for her stuck in that hospital when the rest of us went about our business as if nothing was really happening. I felt like I was wandering through life blindly as others were struggling just to exist. It was no good, sleep wouldn't come.

I turned on the bedside light and reached for a book, but I'd read everything in the pile and sat back, frustrated, and if truth be told, a little disturbed. The good thing about being at Missus Maize's house was that I had access to her library and all I had to do was creep downstairs and go find myself a new adventure story.

I slipped out of my room and checked to see if the light under Missus Maize's door was out, and then made my way as silently as I could down the old staircase. As I reached the passage I heard Mr Poe caw and I froze in place.

"Here you go you old bugger, have a treat and be quiet," Missus Maize said. I tried not to breathe, the Bird Witch was in the room I needed to be in, damn. I turned around and put my right foot on the first step of my climb back to Daisy's room. "Not coming in for that book then?"

Busted! I turned around to see the old woman looming large as she leant against the doorframe, "Sorry, I couldn't sleep."

"You always creep through the house like a thief in the night when you can't sleep?"

"I didn't want to wake you up."

"Going back to bed when you knew I was already awake was going to get you where exactly?"

"I have no idea." I needed to just stop talking before I dug an even deeper hole for myself.

"You truly are the strangest of boys James Fisher. Now get your butt in here and get what you came for. I suggest you pick a thick book because by the looks of you, sleep won't come easy this night."

"True. You get shouted at in my house if you make a noise at night you know."

"Well from what Nurse Bolt told me I think there has been enough shouting for one day."

"You spoke to Nurse Bolt?"

"You think I'd let a little whippersnapper of a boy like you talk with my Daisy without me knowing what's been said?"

"You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

I shook my head and walked into the front room behind her, "She didn't take the news about her mum leaving very well."

"Did you expect her too?"

"No not really, but I didn't expect all the screaming and shouting either."

"Nurse said you shouted just as loud."

"Yeah, sorry."

"Always with the sorries James Fisher," she shook her head and sat down.

"Sorry, oh shit!" I ignored her teacher stare at my swearing and pushed on. "We've done the screaming thing before, it made her feel better then, so I thought it might work again."

"Yes, I know about the visit to the boats."

"What? How?"

She touched the side of her nose as if she were indicating a secret she couldn't tell me, "Bird Witch stuff, could tell you but then I'd have to boil you and eat you."

"She told you, didn't she?"

"Maybe," the old woman said a little defensively.

"Bird Witch stuff indeed."

"Oh, so now I'm not a witch all of a sudden?"

"I never said that!" I was backpedalling fast. I had a feeling I was just sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand.

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying," I was playing for time, "that she told you, not that you're not a witch or anything like that at all. That's all I'm saying. Please, no boiling or eating. I'm probably bad for your digestion anyway."

She looked me up and down as I stood there in my pyjamas, "You are a little skinny, okay no boiling or eating... mind you I can only promise you that for today. And for a smart boy your memory of what you tell people really isn't that good."

I thought for a moment, damn! I'd told her! "Missus Maize why are there so many people that need help and only a few people around to do anything to help?"

"You mean the other people in the hospital?"

"Yeah, but not just them. I see unhappy people walking around all over the place."

"And you want to make them happy?"

"I dunno, maybe."

"Then become a clown or a comic or even a doctor."

"That's not what I mean."

"Well spit it out then."

"Why are there so many of them?"

"Because life's hard and not everyone can cope."

"You cope, so how do you do it?"

"I'm a Bird Witch."

"No seriously!"

"I'm being totally serious. When I first saw you lying on the floor of that old shed I was in a pretty bad way myself. Daisy had only just got out of the hospital from her last episode and I knew she wasn't fully okay, but no one listened to me and I felt worthless. I was going to walk away you know."

"From helping me?"

"Yeah, I knew who you were and I knew who the bullies were as well. They used to call me names and throw stones at the shack, got so bad I hardly ever went out and then I saw them hunting someone down and took a chance."

"I never knew that."

"You never asked. People rarely ask the right questions James, no one ever stops long enough to even think about the right questions, let alone make a conscious decision to try. But that's not the point I'm trying to make. When I watched them from between my curtains I was scared, but I couldn't let them find whoever it was they were hunting and still sleep at night. I pulled on a coat and followed them at a distance. When I heard the roof give in and saw them run into the shed I knew that they'd caught their prey." She sighed and threw some millet to Mr Poe, "That boy was beating you and the girl was cheering him on, Shaz was there but she was hanging back. I could have walked away but how would I have lived with myself? So I found the biggest piece of wood I could, hit it against the wall of the shed and screamed as loudly as I could. Lucky for me they took off. At that precise moment, I could have called it quits and walked back to the shack knowing that you would have probably been okay, but I couldn't, and the rest is history."

"Why couldn't you just leave me there?"

"Because I'm one too."

"You're one what?"

"One of what you are. I see broken things and I try to help them. It's either in a person or it isn't, and either way it doesn't matter because what's important to one person is not important to another. Life is about choices."

"It's about paths."

"Yes. It's about the path you choose for yourself. I think those people who don't choose a path end up unhappier than people who choose a path, and then change their minds and walk another path."

"It's the forks in the path, isn't it? That's the important part."

"The forks are the choices we make, and once a choice is made you can never go back and make that choice again, because it will never be the same choice."

"So when I took the choice to cross the bridge and hide on the roof, that was the reason you had to make the choice to come and see what was happening. Everything is connected. It's fate."

"You believe in fate James?"

"Fate doesn't seem to believe in me."

"A person makes their own fate. If you take on problems then expect to have to deal with the good, and the bad. You've done well with Daisy. Was it easy?"

"No."

"Did you want to give up? And be honest."

"I thought about it," I admitted, even though it made me feel like crap.

"But you didn't, did you? And look at her now, she's made more progress with you than she has done with any doctor or shrink. I'd like to think that you've made progress with a little of my help as well."

I'd never considered that, "I have Missus Maize, and I think Shaz has as well."

"She's a good girl, going to make a damn fine Bird Witch."

I sniggered, but the old woman gave me one of her looks, "We do what we can James. We make our choices and we walk our paths and if we are true to who we are, then how can we be wrong?"

"And we should be happy about it." It wasn't a question but I waited for an answer anyway.

"No, we should choose to be happy because what we've done is the right thing, and if you look deep into your heart and you know you've done the best you can, then you can sleep easy. Have you done the very best you can do James?"

"I think I have."

"I know you have." She pointed to the book case. "Now leave an old Bird Witch alone with her crow and make another choice." She smiled at me and shooed me toward the shelves.

As I lay in bed with the book open, my eyes only reached the bottom of page one when sleep wrapped me in my dreams, and not even Mr Poe's constant swearing woke me up.

***

The weather man said there was rain due on the Saturday morning but as always, he was wrong. This wasn't rain, it was a deluge. As I stared out of Missus Maize's front window I couldn't even make out the outlines of the boats that had been beached for repairs. Typical, the first day Daisy was allowed out and fate had decided to put another obstacle in my way.

"Bugger off."

"You bugger off you stupid crow!" I turned to face the bad-tempered old bird but he was in full flight and on his way to me. I screamed in fright and tried to bat him away, but he was a master of annoying and he managed to find purchase with his claws in my hair as he landed on my head.

"Just keep still James, it's his way of telling you he accepts you."

I felt him peck lightly on my head as if he were searching for fleas. "Does he do this with everyone that comes here?"

"No, he must like you."

"Not sure if the feeling's mutual." She walked over to me and held out her arm for Mr Poe to land on, and walked him back over to his perch. "Why doesn't he have a cage?"

"Would you like to live in a cage?"

"No, but he's just a bird."

"Is that so? Who's to say what he once was or will be in the future? All I know is that he's a crow now and he deserves my respect." She bowed to him and he bowed back, _cawing_ his response. "Even though he has a foul mouth."

"Bugger off."

"Yes, yes." She poured some seed in his bowl and the bird ate, making a mess as he did. "Big day today James Fisher. Are you ready?"

I peeked out between the curtains again, "If this rain doesn't let up we're not going to be doing anything."

"This won't stop our Daisy. She's not a girly girl you know. If she puts her mind to going out then you'd better be ready to get soaked."

"I don't mind."

"But don't you go getting any of my books wet, mind you!"

"I promise."

***

As the afternoon rolled in so did even more rain and I was soaked to the skin before I even reached the gates to the hospital. Missus Maize lent me an umbrella but she must have bought it years ago and I was a little embarrassed to even put it up. It was one of those from the 1960's movies, with yellow edging and a see-through skin. Unlike a traditional umbrella that fans out to create a large space beneath it, this one was made for one person and dropped down close around you to keep you as dry as possible. And, like most things that survived from the sixties, it was rubbish and leaked in more places that I could plug up with tape. I'd given up using it halfway down the road and taken to running between the cover of the horse chestnut trees. Even without their leaves the thick branches still offered some protection.

The nurses at the station gave me dirty looks as I slipped on the polished floors. My coat dripped and made small puddles and my shoes scattered mud as I hurried by. Didn't bother me, I was on a mission and Daisy was close by. Nurse Bolt waved me over and told me that Daisy had slept through the night without the help of a sleeping pill for the first time since she was admitted, and that she'd been dressed and waiting for me for about two hours and was getting a little restless.

I ran through the ward and knocked on her door, "If that's James Fisher come in, if it's not bugger off."

I opened the door and she came rushing at me. I had no idea what she was doing, was she going to hug me? Kiss me? I stood stock still, frozen to the spot, but she held out her hands and pushed me out of the way, "C'mon we don't have all day."

I regained some composure and followed her out. She'd dressed in jeans and a red mohair jersey that was partially covered by a blue fur lined parka coat which she was busy fighting to close the zip on. "Hang on," I cried but she was already halfway to the door by the time I caught up to her. "We've got a ton of time, slow down."

"Listen here James Fisher, I've been stuck in here for an age and I'm not waiting another minute to see the sky and smell the fresh air. Have you any idea what it's like being stuck in hospital with nothing to smell but bed pans and chemical cleaner?"

_Yes, I do_ , "Okay but it's raining cats and dogs out there!"

"So, we get wet, who cares?" she looked me up and down. "Well wetter, if that's possible. Don't worry, I have a plan."

Why didn't I like the sound of that? "But Daisy we have to..."

"I know the rules James Fisher. Just try to keep up, got it?"

"Okay, it's your show."

I grabbed the umbrella from the rack outside of the door and handed it to her, she took it from me and put it straight back into the holder, "What's up? Think a girl can't handle a little rain?"

"I was just trying to be..."

"Oh, get over yourself. Let's go." She headed out the door and ran to the first horse chestnut tree, "Stick to running between the trees and we'll stay drier."

I smiled, realising we had both used the same method but I let her think it was her idea, "Where we going?"

"You'll see." She ran on to the next tree and then the next.

As the gates to the hospital came into view a feeling of dread grew in my stomach. If we broke the rules we'd be banned from going into the grounds again. "Daisy we can't go outside the gates."

"I know what I'm doing." The guard at the boom gate noticed us and turned towards where we were hiding behind one of the tree trunks. Without warning Daisy pulled me close and linked arms with me, "Just walk, and make me laugh when we get close, okay."

"What I am supposed to say?"

"I dunno, make a girl laugh, you're a boy, make a plan."

She dragged me forwards as my heart raced, what we were doing jeopardized everything I had been working towards, but I couldn't say no to her. The closer we got the more the guard became interested in us, "I don't think this is going to work."

Daisy laughed out loud and then whispered, "How is that funny? At least act like you're having a good time."

I wasn't, in fact it was a terrible time, but we'd gone too far and there was no turning back now, "Blah, blah, blah, blah."

She laughed again but the guard just stood there staring at us as we got closer and closer, "It's not working!" My heart was racing even faster, "Let's go back!"

"No retreat Fisher," we were ten feet from disaster when she spun me around to face her. "Kiss me!"

"What?" She planted her lips on mine and nothing else mattered in the world as I kissed Daisy Maize. I was in total shock and didn't know exactly what I was supposed to do, but she took control, and if you ask me, that kiss lasted longer than it needed to. I opened my eyes and felt the biggest urge I had ever felt starting to grow in my pants. I quickly turned back toward the guard but he was either too embarrassed to watch us or he just got bored and had gone back inside his hut.

"Let's go!" she said as she dragged me through gates and into freedom.

The rain was pelting down even harder, but did I care? No! The world could have ended there and then and I wouldn't care one iota. I'd kissed Daisy Maize on the lips! Well, she'd kissed me but it still counted. "Where are we going?"

She pointed to the row of five shops that serviced the local area, "All I've had is hospital food and I need something that actually tastes like real grub."

We waited for a break in the traffic and crossed the road. The first shop was a news agent that was sandwiched between town houses. Sean had worked a paper round for the owners last summer, he said that they were mean and underpaid him and he'd only lasted two weeks. We hurried past as an old couple who were taking cover in the entrance stared at us. I waved at them and smiled. No grumpy old couple was going to put me in a bad mood, not today, no sir.

Then came the post office that was closed, the hairdressers, and on to our destination, the Silver Grid Chippy, which we lovingly called, the Greasy Grid. The smell of the chip fat invaded my senses and made my stomach rumble with hunger pangs, but I had no money with me. "I can't afford to buy you lunch, sorry Daisy."

"Don't sweat it, I got this covered." She ordered two large cod and chips, two pickled onions and a couple of pickled eggs. As the man in the dirty white apron wrapped them in paper with all the skills of an origami master, I just stared in wonder. Daisy paid and the man handed over our dinner in a plastic packet which she wrapped up, opened my coat and stuffed the warm parcel inside. "Don't get it wet."

"I'll protect it with my life!"

"One more stop, let's go." She ran out the door and into the grocer's shop next door to the chippy and bought a loaf of Mother's Pride white bread, which she cradled like a baby under her coat, "Okay I think we broke the rules long enough, up for short jog?"

"Sure, where we going?"

"Don't worry, just keep up."

I didn't want to tell her that my knee was already sore from running between the trees, or that the grease from the chip packet was leaking through the broken plastic bag, none of that mattered, "Lead the way."

I followed her back across the road and into the hospital grounds, but instead of heading to the wards she took a detour down a side road, leading us to an old wooden house. As we got closer she slowed and crept from tree trunk to tree trunk, watching the building. We reached the last tree and she held out a hand, "Wait here!"

"For what?" I asked.

"Just wait here." She disappeared around the tree and I hugged the trunk, not knowing what was going on. Being around Daisy was a whole new experience for me. I was normally the leader telling people what to do, but she took on the role and I have to admit that I felt quite threatened.

I heard the creak of a wooden gate and peered around the trunk, ready to run at the first sight of a grown up. "C'mon James Fisher, don't just stand there like a wet fish," she said poking her head around the gate.

I made a dash for it and Daisy slammed the gate behind me, "What is this place?"

"Let's get out of the rain and I'll tell you all about it." She led the way to the back of the building and into the house through the hole where a back door once hung. Daisy knew exactly where she was going and hurried through the building and rushed up the stairs. I was a little more cautious but when Daisy said, "Those chips will be stone cold if you don't get your ass in gear Fisher," I ran up and joined her.

The upstairs level was one huge empty room with an outside sliding door that led to a balcony, and an old wooden table and chairs combo that stayed mostly dry under the extended roof, "You want to sit out there?"

"And be spotted by a guard, are you mad?" She took the loaf of bread out of her coat and sat down, "I found this place last time I was here. I think it belonged to the groundsman or someone like that but it's been empty for a while. I hope you don't mind eating from the floor?"

I would have eaten on top of a mountain if she'd asked, "Looks good to me too." I slipped the packet out from under my coat and gave it to her while I stripped off my parka, shoes and socks and sat cross-legged opposite her. She unwrapped the food parcel, passed me my half and I tucked in with all the vigour of a starving pre-teen, and as the grease ran down my face I looked up at Daisy who was cramming fish and chips into a slice of bread. "This is awesome!"

"I know," as she spoke she spat small bits of bread out and held up a hand to her mouth, but I just laughed and went back to having my fill.

We finished the whole lot and as I crumpled up the paper and shoved it back into the bag, Daisy moved to sit in front of the window. I crossed the room, sat next to her, and stared out into the hospital grounds, as multicoloured umbrellas sheltered their protected people from the storm that was brewing above the city. I listened to the distant sound of thunder and looked for the lightning.

"You're doing it all wrong you know."

"Doing what?"

"You're trying to work out how far away the storm is, it's not the seconds between the thunder and the lightning, it's the other way around."

"Oh, did not know that."

"Lots of things you don't know James Fisher."

"Oh really!"

"Yeah, lots of things I don't know as well."

I was about to defend myself but the comment put me off my stride and I faltered, "Oh, yeah, I guess so."

"Well I do have to congratulate you, not once have you said sorry to me in the last hour. Not even when you tried to kiss me."

_Oh crap_ it was going to be that conversation, time to go on the offensive, "You like doing that don't you?"

"What?"

"Making someone feel bad about themselves."

"I'm a girl, you're a boy. It's my job to keep you at arm's length...unless I want you closer."

"You could just ask."

"And spoil all my fun, nah, I don't think so."

"Well it's not very nice."

"I felt it you know."

_Oh God please don't say it_ , "What?"

"Your thingy grow," she pointed at my crotch.

Well there was no chance of an urge as all my blood was now in my head, "Oh sorry."

"And there it is! Don't worry I never felt a thing, I was just taking a chance, but it does lead me back to that kiss of yours." I was still too embarrassed to say anything, "How many girlfriends have you had James?" I shook my head. "None?" I nodded. "Well that's not good!"

"I'm only twelve."

"I'm only thirteen but I've had four already, five if I include you."

"Me!"

"I said, if, James Fisher."

"Oh sorry." _Damn it! Stop saying sorry!_ "I thought women of your age wouldn't dream of going out with a boy like me."

"It's not the age that matters, it's the intent. A girl likes to feel needed and desired. Do you desire me James?"

"I do."

"Well there's a start then isn't it?"

"Yes, and do you feel needed?"

"Not after a kiss like that. You need to practice Mister Fisher 'cause practice makes perfect."

"Oh right, well I'll try." I looked out of the window.

"You want to know another thing about you James?" Her voice was somewhat softer.

"Sure." The rain was starting to give up but the thunder rumbled on across the city as I felt Daisy's hand turn my face.

"You can't take a hint," she leant in and kissed me, "practice makes perfect," and she kissed me again.

***

As I left Daisy's room and walked past the poor unfortunates in the other rooms I was called over to Nurse Bolt's station, "So how was the walk?"

"Excellent," I beamed.

"Well you've done a brilliant job James and we're going to miss you."

"Miss me?"

"Daisy gets to go home tomorrow and it's all down to you." I felt crestfallen. "Oh, she didn't tell you did she? Sorry James."

"It's fine Nurse Bolt. I guess she wanted to say thanks in her own way."

"James Fisher! She kissed you, didn't she?"

" _Shhhh_ don't tell everyone!"

"Oh, you sly little sod," she smiled and winked, "you deserve it."

I grinned and left the hospital ward for the last time, but I was torn, the day had been perfect and now that it was over I felt empty inside. Was I Daisy's boyfriend? Or was it just her way of saying thanks? I didn't have a clue and I wasn't prepared to ask anyone other than Daisy herself.

***

It was only later that evening as I sat in Missus Maize's front room reading, that the subject of Daisy's release from hospital came up again. "So, did she tell you?" the old woman asked as she fed her crow. "About going home that is?"

"No, the nurse told me."

"She didn't even thank you?"

I could sense Missus Maize was upset so I tried to reassure her, "She did."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure."

She looked at me suspiciously, "And our deal is still intact?"

"I did not tell her how I felt about her." Or did I? I wasn't so sure, but I wasn't going to share that with the Bird Witch.

" _Hmmm_ , okay let's pretend I believe you. What's your plan now?"

I hadn't considered that! I was still drunk from the afternoon of kissing and the thought of not knowing what to do made me feel sick. Maybe this was the hangover that dad had often complained of after a night at the pub? "No plan, I guess I could visit her at home?"

"Can't see that happening for a while. Her mum is taking her to London for a month for _recovery_ , whatever that means. I just think she wants to get Daisy away from her dad and me, horrible woman!"

I was devastated, not only could I not visit Daisy; she would be a million miles away from me. How was I ever going to survive this? I groaned, "I feel sick. Can I go to bed?"

"It's half past seven and you haven't had your supper."

I was still full up from the fish and chip lunch and I couldn't face another plate of eggs and chips, even if my life depended on it. "I'm okay," I lied.

"Very well." She crossed to her library and pulled out three books, and after examining each one in turn she put two back, "Try this." She gave me the volume and trundled out toward the kitchen, "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Night Missus Maize." I looked at the spine and read the name out loud, "Leo Tolstoy's _Anna Karenina_."

"If you need a good cry over a woman that would be a good place start," she said as her voice disappeared into the back of the house.

"Bugger off." I poked my tongue out at the crow but took his advice nonetheless and headed to bed for a damn good cry, and a perfectly good reason for it tucked under my arm.

***

The next day as I waved goodbye to Missus Maize and slowly walked home, I couldn't help but feel sad. It was like a chapter in my life had ended. Daisy had left for London with her mother that morning. Earlier in the day she had phoned Missus Maize to say goodbye, and the old woman hadn't been herself for the rest of the day. Part of me wanted to ask to talk to Daisy and say my own goodbyes, but I'd have been intruding on their time. Instead I bit my lip and stuck my nose into a book.

Dad's car was parked outside of the house as I walked through the hole in the wall, he stopped unpacking and held out his arms for me and I ran as hard as I could, dropped my school bag and flung myself at him. For some reason, the tears started to flood down my face as I sobbed into his cotton shirt. To his credit he never asked me why and only put me down once my sobs had subsided. "I missed you guys so much!"

"We missed you too Son."

"How was the funeral?"

"Same as always, loads of people standing around, dressed in black, talking in whispers about family."

"Sounds terrible."

"Well when I go I want everyone over the pub and drunk as skunks!"

"You aren't going anywhere!" I leapt into his arms again and hugged him for all I was worth.

He carried me into the house and passed me to Mum who nearly squashed me half to death as she kissed my face and head. Sean was already upstairs in his room playing Elvis records. "I'll make some cheese on toast and coffee, you go and put all of those dirty clothes in the wash and unpack. Bring Sean down with you."

"Here," Dad said, sliding my bag across the kitchen floor, much to Mum's annoyance.

I grabbed my stuff and ran upstairs, dumped everything into the wash basket and ran into Sean's room and jumped onto his bed next to him.

"What the hell are you doing?" he shouted. "Get out of here!"

I grinned at him, "I kissed a girl!"

He grinned right back at me and chilled out, "Oh really! And who would that be?"

"That would be telling now wouldn't it?"

"Daisy Maize?"

"Maybe."

"Lucky boy, she's a fox."

"Hey that's my girlfriend you're talking about!"

"A fox is a fox dude! And she is a drop-dead fox of note! Good for you."

He punched me on the arm just hard enough to make it go dead and I half-cried, half-laughed and fell off the bed. "Cheese on toast downstairs," I said through the happy tears. "Missed you Sean."

"Missed you too little brother."

***

Without Daisy at school and with no way to get in contact with her, the hours dragged by. When Friday came I was exhausted. Even English with Mertens was too much, and I found myself drifting off, wondering where Daisy was and what she was doing, and he moaned at me more than once for not paying attention. The school had been informed of how I'd helped Daisy and the headmaster let me off from the detentions, but even that good news failed to lift my spirits.

The weather had cleared up and the winter sun shone through the window of the number thirteen as it rounded Mooringsway on the Friday afternoon. Shaz sat next to me and Kinger sat one seat behind. "Okay enough of this bullshit!" Shaz said out of the blue.

"What?" I asked.

"She's right James, enough is enough. You've been moping around the whole bloody week and it's really annoying," Kinger piped up.

"She's gone and she's only coming back in a couple of months, now get over it James Fisher or I'll beat it out of you."

I looked at Shaz, "Violence, really?"

"Well we've tried everything else, being around you is like having detention and we've had enough. Get over it!"

"Yeah c'mon man, get over it."

"I'm sorry it's just...I really miss her."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what you going to do about it?"

"Nothing I can do," I said getting annoyed.

"Exactly, so get over yourself. She'll be back soon enough and then you'll be all lovey dovey again and you'll be even worse than you are now! At least spare us this small window of happiness."

I sighed, "I'll try."

"Good! The home has a trip planned to the fair tomorrow afternoon, you guys want to tag along?"

"I'll ask my mum but she's always cool with stuff like this so count me in," Kinger said, rubbing his hands together with excitement.

"James, you in?"

"Screw it, I'm in as well. Bring it on!"

Shaz smiled and nodded, "Welcome the fuck back James Fisher!"

Kinger slapped me across the back of the head, "Back in the game buddy!"

I smiled, but I was still hurting on the inside.

***

The home had hired a small bus to take the kids to the funfair on Southsea common, and the noise inside was so loud I couldn't hear Shaz trying to speak over the top of all the other kids chattering away. She was obviously used to the din and just carried on speaking as Kinger and I nodded to her and shrugged at each other laughing.

When the bus finally pulled up outside of the funfair and the doors opened, the smell of candy floss and peanuts was amazing. The sound of music played games with my hearing as one song morphed into another. Kids disappeared in all directions as the supervisors shouted orders but failed horribly to get them to do anything except to run amok. Put a bunch of kids in the front of a funfair and expect them to stand still, well it's just a bad idea. Shaz said that helping to run the house was like trying to herd cats and now I could understand why.

"C'mon let's go," Kinger pulled me toward the entrance to the rides, and I pulled Shaz.

"So, what's first? Dodgems? Waltzer? Giant slide? Bigwheel? Rollercoaster?"

All three of us looked at each other and said, "The Mouse Trap!" We ran to the ticket booth and spent every penny we had on ride tokens, and stood patiently in line for our turn on the rattling iron rails of the biggest rollercoaster ride at the fair.

"Who gets to go on their own?" Kinger asked.

"Oh crap, I hadn't thought about that. Three-way rock, paper, scissors, matching pair goes together?" I suggested.

"On three," Shaz said, "One, two, three."

Shaz and Kinger chose paper and I chose rock, "Crap."

As our turn finally came around I stood behind the others, and as their car pulled away I stepped up, "Can't go on your own kid."

"C'mon dude!" I pleaded.

"Sorry man, rules are rules. Next."

"Hang on a minute." I turned around to the crowd behind me and said, "Anyone want to pair up?" Three small kids held up their hands and I picked the one closest, "Let's go kid, what's your name?"

"Eric," he handed a half-eaten toffee apple to his mate and climbed into the car next to me.

"Cool, I'm James. Scream all you like but do not puke on me, got it?" He nodded and we screamed our way around the track together, he never once even so much as looked like he was going to puke. As we rolled up to the end Kinger was ready to pull me onto the next ride.

We spent that whole afternoon laughing and joking. It was just the three of us surrounded by a sea of families having fun, and for those short few hours nothing else in the world mattered one little bit, and my cure for the Daisy Maize blues was complete.

Even spending the Sunday around Missus Maize's house with its memories of my love couldn't break my good mood, and when I left her place and went home for supper I felt like I was ready to take on the world once again. I still loved Daisy, but I had other things to keep me happy while she was away. I could wait for her, and if she wanted me I would be there, and if she didn't, I would live with it.

Nineteen

School had become a bore and the only thing that kept me going was Shaz, Kinger and the music Pod had been able to smuggle away from his brother. On the inside, I was now a fully-fledged punk rocker, but on the outside I was just James Fisher, the scruffy twelve-year-old kid with slightly oversized ears, bright blue eyes and spotty skin.

We were a week away from the Christmas holidays when the December freeze set in. We'd even had some snow flurries but nothing had settled long enough to do anything with.

On the last Friday school always finished at lunchtime and as we waited for the number thirteen to take us home, everyone was in high spirits. "So, what you doing this weekend?" Kinger asked.

"Spending time with the Bird Witch of course."

"Man, you guys love that old woman don't you?" Kinger had never met the old lady that lived in the shack next to the locks. His parents were very strict, he wasn't allowed to go that far away from his house without his mother's permission and she didn't like him coming to the crescent because of the gangs.

"Dude if you knew how cool her place was you'd also come up to us every weekend."

"Nah, I'm not into all of those books and soppy love songs."

"Neither am I," Shaz added.

"So why do you go then?"

"She's teaching me to be a Bird Witch of course, why else would I go there?"

Kinger looked at me and I shrugged. "Seriously?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, what am I supposed to think?"

"Exactly," she said, as she tried to pull off a really bad impression of Missus Maize. I laughed but Kinger just looked at us and shook his head.

"You two are so strange. I mean, who in their right mind hangs out with an old lady, probably in her two hundreds, every weekend? It's not natural."

"No, it's supernatural," Shaz said trying to keep a straight face.

" _Urgh_ , there is just no winning this fight is there?"

"Not a chance!" I said, climbed onto the bus and flashed my pass at the driver who ignored me completely.

After the twenty-minute ride was over we got off the bus and waved up to Kinger who stuck two fingers up at us and laughed. We'd made a plan to meet up with him at his place on the Monday morning and head to Bransburry Park playground to hang out there for the day.

I split up with Shaz at the shop and went home. Mum had spent the previous night putting up the Christmas tree and had argued with Dad for a good hour trying to convince him to buy new lights, but my old man refused, as he did every year. He spent ages patching up the old ones that were held together by tape and odd bits of wire. He'd eventually got it sorted as I climbed up the stairs and went to bed. I could still hear Mum bickering as I cleaned my teeth. Every year was the same, and I loved it.

When I got up the next morning there was still some tension in the air, and breakfast was very quiet as Mum sat and stewed, and Dad picked his horses. Thankfully by that afternoon all was all forgiven. The decorations looked fantastic. Mum was a genius at putting the tree together and hanging tinsel and Christmas balls all over the place. It really made the holiday special. There was only one thing missing, but not even Santa could bring her back to me.

***

Saturday morning was D-Day for Christmas shopping and Mum dragged me and Sean around every single shop looking for that last elusive present. I got mine done within an hour of stepping off the bus, and trudged unhappily behind her as she went back to Marks and Sparks for the third time to look at a scarf for some family member or other. Sean and I had taken to playing tag around the display cabinets and mannequins just to pass the time, but as Mum's mood darkened with every missed purchase she scolded us until we were on the brink of being grounded for the entire holiday. We knew she was just taking her frustrations out on us and wouldn't go through with the punishment, but she still scared the crap out of me. I had things to do and there was no way I wanted to be stuck at home with Sean.

Mum eventually called it quits and sat down outside the Wimpy, completely exhausted. Dad finished work just after two o'clock. I checked the wall clock inside the burger joint and was relieved to see we only had ten minutes to wait. Right on time the car pulled up and Dad helped Mum pack the small mountain of bags and boxes into the boot. Sean and I sat in the back in our own space, not arguing about who was on whose side for a change. As dad revved the engine and pulled into traffic, Mum moaned and moaned about how people had been _crazy shopping_ , as she put it. I looked at Sean and he stifled a laugh, she was just as crazy a shopper as all of them. Poor old Dad just had to sit there and listen to her drone on and on.

Traffic was always busy on a Saturday and it took an age to get home. After unloading the car we left Mum with the pile of gifts, and raced upstairs with a roll of tape and a tube of wrapping paper. I'm the world's second worst present wrapper and Sean is the worst. No matter how hard we try there's always more tape than paper. Mum was clever enough to make sure we both had a giant roll and plenty of paper. I'd managed to stretch my allowance to buy Shaz and Kinger a small goofy-looking troll figurine, and a special heart shaped stone, that I pretended was diamond, for Daisy. I noticed that Sean had also snuck in a present that could only be for a girl, but he wouldn't share her name, so it was definitely not Sophie Turner.

I fought with the tape and paper, and as I finished the last one I heard Mum bellow our names from the kitchen. Whenever she called out like that it meant trouble and both of us ran down the stairs and burst into the kitchen. "What is it?"

"The dump's on fire, you know what to do boys, move it!"

The grass around the dump often caught fire and the whole crescent pulled together to put it out. It was worse in the summer; it only took a stray cigarette to set off the dry grass. At this time of year, it was normally a tramp who had lost control of his fire that would start the blaze.

We ran to the shed, grabbed a bucket each and scampered out the gate. "Is the tide in?" Sean shouted.

"I have no idea!" If the tide was in it would be a relatively easy job to get to the water and douse the flames while we waited for the fire engines to arrive, but if the tide was out it would mean making a human chain across the mud flats just to get to the water.

We ran as fast as we could around the front of the pub, but as we headed for the dump three other boys passed us and one called out, "Where you going? It's not the dump, it's that old shack where the Bird Witch lives!"

_Oh God no! Please God no!_ I froze on the spot but Sean grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me along. I felt numb, and as I watched the smoke rise, it felt like I was watching through someone else's eyes.

"James c'mon, run for fuck's sake!" Sean cried out.

Reality kicked back in and I ran as fast as my knee would allow around the Thatched House. As Missus Maize's shack came into view I was relieved to see that a few people were already there collecting buckets of water and passing them up a short line to the house.

I looked up and down the line hoping to God that the old woman was there, ordering the people around with Mr Poe on her shoulder, but there was no sign of the Bird Witch! I pushed an older boy out of the way as he stopped to join the line, and ran towards the back of the house where the flames were slowly crawling up the wooden slats. The flames were threatening to engulf the roof as I ran for the back door, it was only Sean grabbing my shirt that stopped me from running through the fire. "Missus Maize!" I called out.

Sean was shouting something at me and pointing to the line of people but I didn't understand a word.

I ran back around the front of the building, kicked the gate open, climbed over the dog roses and peered into the window. Everything was dark. "Missus Maize!" Smoke started to seep out from underneath the door. My stomach knotted and I felt helpless. I had to do something or everything would be lost. I put both hands on the door frame and kicked, but the thing never budged an inch. .

I heard a cry of, "Out the way!" as Shaz charged past me and crashed into the door with all of her weight; the thing exploded off of its rusty hinges. She collapsed onto the passage floor in a heap, but I was standing over her in seconds and tried to drag her to her feet, instead she pulled me down. "Stay low, the smoke goes up!"

I nodded and tried to crawl to the kitchen, but the flames were licking up the door frame and the heat wave pushed me back.

"Bugger off."

"Mr Poe!" Shaz shouted, and kicked at the front room door which flew open. I heard the bird caw over the noise of the fire and watched as the black shape flew over me and landed on Shaz's arm.

"Get it out!" I shouted. Shaz held a thumb up and coughed violently, "Go!" I looked back at the kitchen, there was no way I could get past the wall of flames. My only hope in finding Missus Maize was the front room. I pulled my shirt up over my nose and crawled into the room, but the smoke was thicker now we'd bust the door open and I couldn't see much.

I took a chance and stood up just in front of a chair. It was heavy to lift, but I managed to throw it at the window and my heart sank when it just bounced off. I ducked back down and gasped for air, but the floor was covered in birdseed husks and choked me. I spat onto the floor and said a silent sorry to Missus Maize for messing on her floor. I took another deep breath. The chair was too big for me to get any power behind; I needed something smaller, but still heavy enough to break the glass. Only one thing would work! I picked up the gramophone and hurled it with all my might. The glass shattered and daylight filtered through. The curtains flapped as the wind blew in, but all they did was stop the smoke escaping. I dropped down onto my belly and took another lungful of smoky air, then climbed onto the table and tugged as hard as I could on the curtain rail. It pulled away from the wall as I tumbled backwards onto the floor, and smoke poured out of the gaping hole. I heard the fire roar as it devoured the fresh air and ate into the shack's insides.

I could see Sean screaming at me from outside but I had to save some of the Bird Witch's stuff from the flames. I threw book after book out of the window as the room became hotter and the smoke grew denser. As I tossed the last one to safety I grabbed the box of records and hurled them as far as I could through hole in the window. I fell to the floor choking as the smoke filled my lungs, and as I lay there I saw the first of the flames ignite the door frame. I took a deep breath but the smoke was too thick and the safety of the broken window was just too far away. My eyes closed.

***

I felt hands grab the back of my shirt and pull me off the ground. The next thing I knew I was outside lying on the grass, coughing my lungs out as a woman in a white mask fought to keep me still, "Missus Maize is still in there! I have to get to her! Get off of me!"

"James." I ignored her and kept fighting, "James! Look at me. Lie still, let the firemen do their job. You need to breathe."

"Missus Maize!" I screamed and collapsed, coughing. The spasm was so bad I sat up and puked.

"It's okay, it's natural. You've breathed in too much smoke, the feeling will pass. Try to use this to breathe with." She held out a mask but I pushed it away.

When I looked up I saw Mum standing next to the paramedic, she was covered in soot and crying her heart out. It was her hands I had felt on me, she was the one that pulled me out of that house. I held my arms out to her. "Mum!" I pushed the woman with the mask away and hugged her with all my might as the fire brigade tackled the blazing fire that had once been the Bird Witch's shack.

The paramedic advised Mum that I should go to the hospital. I think she understood that there was no way I was going anywhere. Even if they took me I'd find a way back here. She thanked them but I knew she'd take care of me herself.

It was an hour before the Fire Brigade was happy that the flames wouldn't reignite. Another ambulance turned up but this one had the word Coroner printed on the side and I knew in an instant why it was here. Several of the fire fighters had been hanging around what was left of the kitchen and when the new ambulance backed in as close as it could get to the building, a stretcher was dragged from the back and taken into the house. "James maybe we should go home?"

"No, I'm okay Mum," but I wasn't okay at all.

Ten minutes later the stretcher bearers brought out the body which was covered by what looked like a black bag, and I sobbed so hard I thought I was going to break into pieces. Missus Maize was gone, and her books lay on the grass in front of her burned down shack, soaking wet and covered in mud. The box of records had somehow stayed in one piece and I caught sight of Shaz picking it up off the ground as Mr Poe perched on her shoulder. As if to taunt me the heavens opened and rain poured down and I screamed at the clouds as Mum held me tight.

Dad pulled the up car next to the ambulance. Sean had already jumped in and sat quietly in the back seat. "We're leaving."

"No!" I pleaded.

"We're leaving now."

"C'mon James there's nothing else we can do here today."

I closed my eyes and began to cry again as Dad loaded me into the car and took us on the short journey back to the house.

Mum bathed me as I sat silently in the hot water and bubbles. She'd done her best to soothe me but it was no good, I was inconsolable. I refused supper and asked if I could go to my room, but Mum said no and made a bed up for me on the couch in the front room, and as I pulled the cover up over my head I just wished the world would stop and go back a day. But that only happens in stories and this wasn't a story, it was a nightmare.

***

I have no idea how much sleep I had that night, but as the sun climbed into the sky on the Sunday morning I did what I do every Sunday morning, I got dressed and went to Missus Maize's house, half-hoping that the previous day had just been a bad dream. But it wasn't. I looked at the destruction that had once been a home and felt nothing but sadness and I wondered if I'd reached the depths of Daisy's despair. I didn't even know if anyone had phoned to tell her, but this morning wasn't about Daisy, it was about Missus Maize. She may have gone but I still had work to do around the old shack.

I spent an hour picking up the soaking wet and mud-encrusted books and carefully draped each one on a low hanging branch of the crab apple tree to dry. The house itself was now just a pile of wood and bricks with the odd bit of furniture poking its head out of the rubble. Some of her other belongings were scattered, like the horse chestnut leaves across the muddy pathways of the locks, as if they were mice scurrying for a home in a storm. I tried to collect as much of it as possible, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't seem to make any headway at all.

Shaz turned up, minus the crow, around lunchtime. Her eyes looked as sore as mine and as we sat under the tree looking up at the pages drying in the midday sun, we spoke of Missus Maize and told each other stories of our time with the Bird Witch.

"Things are going to change now aren't they?" she asked.

"Things change all of the time. That's what life is all about isn't it?"

"I guess so. What do you think it's like, dying I mean?" I had no idea and the more I thought about it the more scared I got. I refused to answer and after a while Shaz said, "It's okay James I feel the same way."

I looked out over the locks where its weather-beaten boats bobbed up and down on the full tide and wiped a tear away from my cheek, "I just hope she's happy."

That night, after a silent supper, I hugged Mum and told her that I needed to see Doctor Goulding again.

***

I thought the day of the fire was the worst day of 1976, but it wasn't. The worst day was the funeral. It wasn't the service or the casket being lowered into the ground or even the earth that was shovelled onto the grave, it was Daisy. She had taken the news extremely badly and her mother had booked her straight back into Saint James' and refused point blank to let me visit.

During the short ceremony, she'd sat next to her dad in the pew at the front of the church. She'd completely ignored me and Shaz when they walked in behind the coffin, and as I got up to go and speak with her I felt Dad's hand on my shoulder pushing me back down onto the hardwood seat.

It was only when we stood around the grave that Daisy made eye contact with me and when she did, I could see she was broken beyond anything I had ever seen before, and if I was honest, so was I. She took a step towards us and her father tried to grab the sleeve of her black coat, but she shrugged him off and came to stand in between me and Shaz. We never exchanged a word, but it didn't matter, we knew that the three of us had each other. Daisy grabbed my hand as the casket dropped into the black hole and squeezed with all her might as tears rolled down both of our faces. She turned towards me and buried her head in my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around her, "You're okay Daisy, I got you." But who had me?

When it was all over Daisy's dad took her away and we never got the chance to say so much as goodbye. Mum and Dad walked back to the car with Sean dragging his feet behind them, and only Shaz and I were left. "You going to be okay James?"

"I don't know Shaz. You?"

She sniffed, "Me either."

"Can I have a moment alone?" I asked as the tears came thick and fast.

She nodded and stuck a black crow feather onto the grave which just made me feel even worse. Missus Maize had save my life and I had failed to save hers, and no matter how many times Doctor Goulding said that it wasn't my fault, I couldn't come to terms with the fact. If I'd argued with Mum about going shopping I would have been there for her and maybe I could have stopped this from happening.

The doctors had told us that she'd had a heart attack and that the chip pan had caught alight and set fire to the house. They said that she didn't suffer and that she would have died, no matter what. But I wasn't convinced. If I'd been there I could have stopped the fire and called an ambulance and maybe they could have saved her, but I'd failed. "I'm so sorry Missus Maize."

I'd learned so much in our short time together, and I'd never missed anybody as much as I missed her, not even Daisy. The last year had been my best year and my worst year all wrapped up in a neat package held together with too much tape and broken dreams, and I felt empty on the inside. There was nothing else I could do. I, James Fisher, the boy that always had a plan, had been beaten by the one thing that no man can conquer. Before I turned away I said the four words I should have said many times before today, "Love you Missus Maize."
Epilogue

"So, what do you think Mr Gull? Was my story one that deserved to be told?" The gull looked at me with its beady eye and cocked its head from side to side. "Well, you going to tell me to bugger off? I didn't think so." The bird screeched at another gull that hung in the air looking for a place to land as if it were shouting a warning. Maybe he just didn't want me to have to start my story all over again, or maybe he was saying come on down, but this old fool doesn't have anything to eat.

_Keow_ , this time it sounded like the gull was asking me a question and he was right to do so. There were still open ends to my tale and the gull was like a child listening to its parent's bedtime story without hearing the end. 1976 was a hell of a year and I think the bird had been patient enough to ask his questions, "So what first?"

Keow.

"My choice eh?"

Keow.

"Fair enough Mr Gull, let's start with Mr Poe shall we? As I'm sure you guessed, Shaz became his keeper, even though keeper is a pretty loose term, more like slave if you ask me. The bird became the centre of attention at the foster home and lived a life of luxury and had more treats than any other crow in history. He never learned another word and lived eight years before old age finally took him. I like to think that he's up there in heaven sat on his perch cawing at Missus Maize to give him another millet bar."

I pulled my coat as tightly as I could around my body as the wind and rain battered me, and had to shout to hear my own voice. "Kinger stayed my best friend right up until we fell for the same girl and things got really nasty as she played one of us off against the other, after that things were never the same again. In hindsight, we should have both walked away from her. We knew she was bad news and what started out as a bet to see who could kiss her first turned into a savage battle. I'm not a vindictive person but to this day I still have feelings of revulsion towards Tracy Tee. I never got to say sorry to Kinger for what happened but I even now I have hopes of sitting down over a pint of beer in the Oyster House and righting that wrong." I stopped and stared at nothing for a while.

"But I digress Mr Gull, now, where was I? Ah yes, Jenkins. He turned out to be a really good guy and as we both grew into men we never really became friends, but there was always a respect between us. I don't know if that was because he knew I cared enough about Daisy to take him on head first, or if it was because I gave him the chance to better me in the playground when I could have just bullied him into telling me what was going on. None of that mattered as we grew up, and I still nod to him when we pass on the crescent."

Keow!

"I'm getting there! I finally had it out with Mertens about why he was two different people at school, and he simply told me that he had no choice and that it wasn't his fault. After years and years of kids being mean to him and trying to take advantage of his good nature he finally had enough and he put his foot down by giving that group Friday detention. The punishment worked so well that he made sure all his classes were treated the same. He told me that there was always a smart ass in the room that could be relied on to fall into his trap and that it was better for him to lay the law down from day one, than to let things get out of hand later in the year. I thought it was a damn weak excuse and I told him exactly that. He simply shrugged and asked me what I would have done if I'd taken years of abuse from kids, and I couldn't come up with single thing. It never made sense at the time but in hindsight Mertens had been bullied and he was just protecting himself."

Keow!

"Okay, okay you want to know about Daisy right?"

Keow!

"Well you'll have to wait, there's one more person first. Shaz, my confidant, and the only straight stick in the pile of crooked branches. Well I'm proud to say that she's still a very important part of my life and whenever I'm in trouble or I get those anxiety attacks she's always the first one there to help me out. You remember when she said she didn't like girls? Well she was lying her ass off, and now she lives with a wonderful woman called Sandra and they have adopted two beautiful children. And I'm guessing you want to know if she became the Bird Witch? Well you're a bird, you tell me!"

I looked at the gull waiting for it to Keow and hurry me on to the important part, but he just looked at me expectantly, "Daisy?"

Keow!

"Not much to tell really. Her mother took her to London and we lost contact. Do I still love her? Damn right I do, she was the first girl I ever kissed. Did I go and try to find her and have another adventure in London? No, I was only twelve and I'd pushed my luck about as far as it could go when it came to Daisy Maize. Did I ever see her again? Well it's funny you should ask that Mr Gull. It was 1988; I was on leave from the university and was busy looking through a stack of punk rock records in HMV when I noticed a pretty face behind the counter..." The gull took to the sky and I waved it goodbye. "Maybe I'll tell you another time?" I yelled into the wind. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, "Love you Daisy Maize."

~End~

About the Author

Simon retired from industry to follow his passion for writing. He spends his time creating fantastic worlds for readers to lose themselves in, engaging characters that you'll want to love and hate (sometimes at the same time), and stories that encapsulate the imagination and take you on a journey through life, death and everything in between. He also laughs way too much at himself in the mirror every morning.

James still has a lot of his tale to tell, so look out for _The Inbetween Daze_ which is currently a work in progress!

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