It’s For Your Own Good
(Available End July 2011)
Chapter One
“We’ve got to find somewhere to hide,” John encouraged his two friends. “I’ve heard the Department of Health & Safety (DHS) have got cameras everywhere.”
Connor followed a few steps behind Lisa and John; his head was urging him on whilst his heart desperately wanted to drag him back to the Wasp family home. The face mask John had given him to wear was too tight, and clearly made for a younger child. Connor forced himself to keep moving, heavy with regret at leaving his Mum and Dad behind.
“Duck!” shouted Lisa as she grabbed John’s arm, pulling the pair of them to the ground.
As Lisa lay stretched out on the floor, she looked to her left to find Connor carefully sweeping the area in front of him with his gloved hand.
“Get down, you idiot! They’ll see you.”
“Not before I’ve checked the area for sharp objects thank you very much,” Connor snapped indignantly.
“You’ll have more than sharp objects to worry about if the DHS catch us.” Lisa reached out her hand to pull Connor’s legs from under him. She watched in silence as the ginger haired boy crashed to the floor only moments before the van drove past. Lisa’s heart felt as though it was going to break through her ribcage.
“Ouch!” he cried out as he hit the hard ground with full force.
“Sorry,” said Lisa. “I didn’t want us to get caught because of you.”
As Connor lay flat on his back motionless, Lisa said, “You’ve got to decide now Connor. Are you one hundred per cent with us or not?”
“Go easy on him Lisa,” said John. “He’s doing his best. Don’t forget you and I have been feeling this way for a while now. Connor is only just waking up to what we’ve known for weeks. Give him a break.”
Lisa suddenly became aware of her sweatshirt sleeve tightening around her lower arm. It had ridden up when she’d dived for cover only moments before, revealing a blood stained dressing wrapped around her wrist. Connor had noticed it.
“What’s with the bandage?”
Lisa blushed as she yanked her sleeve down. The sideways glance she gave John made Connor feel unpleasantly awkward. Feeling his own wrist, Connor felt the familiar raised lump where his DHS identity tracking tag had been implanted.
John stepped in, “Look,” he said, pulling up his sleeve to show Connor his blood-stained and bandaged wrist.
“Oh my goodness,” gasped Connor. “What’s going on with you two?” He started to shuffle backwards on his knees as he asked, “You’re not in one of those secret clubs or anything, are you?”
“Don’t say anything John,” blurted Lisa, cutting him off at his first word. “We don’t know whether we can trust him completely yet.”
Connor snapped at Lisa, “Are you having a laugh? I’ve risked just as much as you two haven’t I?” He looked towards John, his eyes showing how much he needed his support as he repeated, “Haven’t I?”
John half-heartedly nodded at Connor and then turning his face towards Lisa he said, “He’s right Lisa. It’s not fair if the two of us know something that he doesn’t.”
“Yeah,” agreed Connor. “Just because you two invited me to the party, doesn’t mean you get to pick all the games!”
Lisa tutted at Connor’s remark, before letting out a long and deliberate sigh. “We’ve removed our IT tags.”
“Not your DHS Identity Tracking tags?” asked Connor,astounded.
“Der…” said Lisa. “What else would I mean?”
“How on earth did you do that?” Connor asked, looking down at his own wrist.
John pulled out his late Grandad’s, illegal Swiss Army knife from his trouser pocket. “With this,” he said, flicking open the blade. John watched as Connor’s expression changed from disbelief to horror. John couldn’t stop the grin that was creeping across his face. “It doesn’t hurt too much,” he said, imagining what was going through Connor’s mind.
Taking hold of the shiny, smooth, beautifully crafted knife, Connor twisted it between his fingers as he said, “But why? How? When?”
Lisa explained. “The moment they know we’re gone Connor, the first thing they’re gonna do is trace us through our tags. It will be hard enough as it is with all the DHS cameras about; we need to keep one step ahead- make that ten steps ahead of the department at all times.” Lisa folded her arms defensively.
“What did you do with them?” Connor asked. “The tags, where did you put them?”
John smirked. “I wrapped mine in a piece of recyclable, anti-bacterial, lightly scented, toilet paper and then dropped it down our self-flushing, 99.9 per cent germ free, self-cleaning toilet.”
Connor smiled at John as he said, “So when they realise you’re missing, the DHS computer will track you to the sewage plant.”
“Well…” John smiled. “My identity tag at least.”
Connor turned his attention towards Lisa. “What about you Lisa? How did you get rid of yours?”
“Well let’s just say that it should be appearing in Tinker’s cat-litter tray any day soon,” she said grinning.
Conner gasped, “You fed it to your cat?”
Their laughter was only broken when Connor tried to hand John his knife back.
““Keep it,” John said, as he gently pushed Connor’s hand back in towards his chest. “You’ll need to use it if you’re going to come all the way with us.”
Lisa and John stared at Connor, waiting for his response. Thinking for a moment, Connor replied, “But I’ve disposed of my tracking communicator and ripped the tracking labels out of my clothes, what happens if I get lost? How will anyone find me?”
Flabbergasted, Lisa said, “Has it slipped your mind that we’re running away? The very last thing we want is to be found, you Numpty!”
“Numpty,” repeated Connor, “that’s a bit harsh isn’t it?”
John interrupted the two of them. “Connor, Lisa’s already explained that the minute they discover we’re missing, they’ll try to trace us through our IT tags. You’ve got to make your mind up, are you with us or not?”
Connor was silent. He was unable or unwilling to answer John’s question.
Lisa looked towards John, “We can’t take him with us John, it’s far too deep in him. Look at him. He’s brainwashed like the rest of them.”
John moved his gaze slowly from left to right, weighing up Lisa’s words. Fearful of being left behind, Connor pleaded, “Don’t leave me John please. I really want to come with you guys. I swear I won’t let you down.”
Nodding his head once, John gestured towards the knife in Connor’s hand. “Prove it,” he said.
With his full attention fixed on to John’s icy blue eyes, Connor felt the tiny beads of sweat pushing through his forehead. Without another word he pressed down the open blade onto his wrist.
Note to reader: The DHS introduced Identity Tracking tag implants. Within a year it had become mandatory that anyone under the age of eighteen should have one inserted just beneath their skin on the underside of their wrist. The DHS explained that this necessary action would eliminate all possibility of a child getting lost or abducted. So for their own good, they became the traceable generation.
Chapter Two
Valerie Wasp’s gaze rested upon the familiar sight of her hard working husband as she quietly entered his white painted office. Flecks of grey threatened to dominate his once jet black hair. His strong, broad shoulders were hunched forwards, pulling his shirt tight on his back. Facing the far wall, oblivious to her presence, Mike continued tapping away on his keyboard.
Valerie tiptoed past him. Flicking her mousy brown fringe out of her eyes, she took the opportunity to glance up at the Home-Cam fixed just beneath the coving in the far corner of the room. Valerie’s dark brown eyes fed the familiar image of the camera back to her heart.
She continued towards the window, trying with all her might to look normal and not to draw attention to herself. Valerie pretended to take in the view as she stopped a hand’s distance in front of the window. The concerned mother moved her head slowly and purposefully from left to right, scanning the horizon, just as the captain of a submarine might use his periscope in enemy waters.
The Home-Cam made a sudden yet familiar whirring noise. Valerie knew this meant the camera operator was adjusting its angle. Once in place, the ‘on-air’ button situated on the underside of the camera at the front of the speaker flashed, allowing the operator to be heard.
“Step back from the window or use your window tint switch. Your retinas are in danger of burning.”
Anxiety and dread overwhelmed Valerie, deafening her to the camera operator’s instructions. Instead, she stared helplessly through the glass as unwelcome tears formed on the surface of her eyes.
Unconsciously running her fingers through her wavy, shoulder length hair, Valerie noticed the familiar sensation that often appears just before vomiting. The puddle of saliva that formed on top of her tongue seemed unable to penetrate the overwhelming dryness in her mouth.
The camera operator repeated her order, “Step back from the window Mrs Wasp, or you leave me no choice but to override your tinting system, changing the windows to blackout mode. The charge for this service will be £75.00.”
On hearing the Home-Cam operator’s second warning, Mike pushed his chair backwards from under his desk, jumping to his feet. The middle aged, slightly overweight man rushed over to the window tint switch and held it down firmly. He looked at his wife who still seemed oblivious to the Home-Cam warnings. We can’t afford another Health and Safety fine, he thought to himself.
“What’s up with you Val?” he said eventually, not disguising the annoyance he was feeling regarding her lack of co-operation. “Can’t you hear the Home-Cam operator asking you to back off or tint?”
Mike held his hand up towards the camera, reassuring the operator that he had everything under control. For good measure he repeated the camera operator’s warning, “You don’t want the sun’s rays to burn your retinas out do you Honey?” As he looked upon her face, Mike gently removed a stray hair that lay diagonally across her cheek and was settling on her nose. “You can’t take foolish risks like that nowadays Val not now the ozone layer has all but gone.”
As he looked into her dark brown eyes, Mike noticed that they weren’t as vibrant and warm as usual. They looked different; they looked sunken and empty. He also noticed her sheet-white complexion. “You need a holiday love,” he said smiling first at her and then at the Home-Cam. “You look ever so pasty. Why don’t you go and get Connor and we’ll all take a break in front of the computer together? I don’t mind which DHS holiday site we visit, you can choose. I’ll nip downstairs and get the safe tanning, mood lamp.”
Mike pulled Val away from the window and into his arms. As she stood there, cocooned in his embrace, she turned her mouth in towards his ear and whispered, “He’s gone Mike. Connor has gone.”
Pushing her back at arm’s length, Mike studied her face before saying, “What?”
Val motioned with her eyes towards the Home-Cam, reminding Mike that they were not alone. “I said,” she lied, “come downstairs and have a caffeine free, sugar free, non-addictive, low fat coffee with me.”
The whirring noise of the camera lens extending prompted the two of them to raise false smiles at each other.
Mike eventually said in a slow and controlled voice, “That would be great love, but first I’d like to check the house for my missing slipper. Will you help me?”
Valerie nodded, before following her husband out of the room on the pretence of searching for the slipper.
Before they had a chance to leave, the Home-Cam operator instructed them, “Be sure to walk, not run. If you find your slipper is in a dangerous position, do not hesitate to call a professional, waiting patiently in a safe place until they arrive. If however, after a full Health and Safety assessment, you believe you can retrieve the missing item without risk to yourselves, do so by bending your legs when reaching down. Remember the Health and Safety motto, ‘It’s for your own good.’”
Mike acknowledged the Home-Cam operator’s instructions before leaving the office, quickly followed by his wife Valerie.
Once the two of them had entered the only room without a camera, Mike shut the bathroom door behind him, and once sure they were out of earshot he whispered forcefully, “What do you mean he’s gone? How? All the external doors and windows are secured with E.U. registered locks, guaranteed to last for up to one hundred and fifty years.”
“I know, I know,” flapped Valerie. “It’s not my fault!”
“I didn’t say it was!” Mike snapped at her.
“You didn’t have to Mike. Your tone of voice told me quite clearly that you think it’s my fault.”
The compact bathroom didn’t allow for Mike’s urge to pace up and down, so instead he clenched his sweaty fists together. “What are we going to do?”
Val wasn’t given the chance to answer as Mike clicked his fingers indicating that an idea had popped into his head. “Did you check to see if his Health and Safety bum bag is still hanging up by the back door?”
Valerie nodded, “It’s still there.”
After slapping his forehead in frustration, Mike grasped hold of his wife’s shoulders, the tension audible in his stricken voice as he asked, “Are you telling me that our son is out there without his face mask and UVA cream?”
Val nodded vigorously, as she let out an uncontrollable sob. She quickly covered her mouth with her right hand to muffle any sound, beating Mike by only seconds. Taking a step back, Mike knew from her reaction that they were all in deep trouble.
After a moment, Mike shook his hysterical wife saying, “It’s only a matter of time before the Home-Cam operator notices he’s missing. We’ve got to do something and quickly.”
“But what can we do Mike?” she said after taking in a deep breath. “Our little boy is out there all alone in that dangerous world without a mask or UVA cream, plus…” she pulled out the little red book from her blue, denim trousers and staring down at it she whispered in a voice that held no hope, “he didn’t even take his Health and Safety manual.”
Mike looked horrified. “Do you know what this means?” He panicked. “If the DHS find out about this, he’ll be…”
Val interrupted him by wagging the manual under his nose. “Never mind what they’ll do Mike, I’m more worried about how our little soldier is going to survive without this!”
“Shssh,” said Mike. “What’s that?”
Val listened to the familiar beeping of the Health and Safety communicator. “It’s the DHS,” she snapped. Feeling her heart drop she clenched her fists together. “They know, the DHS know he’s gone already. Oh my goodness, what are we going to do?”
Mike and Valerie looked like a couple of lost children, as the two of them stood by the bathroom door listening to the beeping of the communicator. Val couldn’t bear it any longer and turning to Mike, she snapped, “You get it.”
Mike pointed towards his own chest as he said, “Me? Why me?”
“You’re the man of the house aren’t you?” Val reminded him in no uncertain terms.
Mike looked mortified as he said, “What’s come over you Val? You know you can’t use phrases like that any more. It’s offensive to every woman on the planet.”
“Oh for pity’s sake!” she snapped. “I’m the only woman here aren’t I? And as long as I’m not offended and the cameras can’t hear me, I can say what I bloomin’ well please.”
Mike ignored her response, instead saying, “We’ll have to go now, before they get suspicious.” Opening the bathroom door, Mike led the pair of them down the stairs making sure he took one step at a time, whilst holding tightly to the banister.
Once in front of the DHS communicator, Mike pressed his index finger down on to the fingerprint scanner and watched as the strip of blue light ran back and forth underneath it. A voice came through the intercom. “Mike Wasp of 29 Durfis road. This is the Department of Health and Safety.”
Chapter Three
“This is Mike Wasp. How can I help you?”
Val leant in closer to Mike, desperate to hear all the conversation.
The Home-Cam in the hallway, just above the front door, moved slightly at a twenty degree angle until it was pointing directly at Val. The operator instructed, “Move away from the caller, you are invading his privacy.”
Valerie looked with disdain at the camera as she thought to herself, there’s only one thing here invading our privacy mate and it ain’t me!
The voice on the other end of the DHS communicator said, “Mr Wasp, this is the Department for Health and Safety. Please tell me your identity number.”
Mike felt his blood boil as he thought, You know my number you idiots! You’ve not only got it on file, you’ve also got a camera focussed onto my face. I’m in my own house which is now registered at great cost to myself under the H.I.D.S (House Is Departmentally Secure) scheme and I’ve just confirmed it’s me through the update facility programme feature, which enables my communicator to read my fingerprint.
Mike reached inside his back trouser pocket to pull out his well-worn faded brown leather wallet. His biometric DHS identity card was tucked away in the back behind his DHS debit card. It was easy to spot as it was shiny and new. The Department had re-issued him a new one when his and more than one hundred other cards were accidentally misplaced by a DHS officer on his way home one night.
“H&S1298605,” he said clearly.
“Thank you,” said the caller from the DHS. “I’m just going to run a check on that. Stay by your communicator please.”
With no other option but to wait, Mike slipped his I.D. Card back into his wallet. As he did so he noticed that Val had left the hallway.
Upstairs, Val sat down on her son’s bed and noticed a book resting on his pillow. She picked it up and caught sight of a piece of paper sticking discreetly out of the top. She held the book as though she were going to read it hoping the paper might hold a clue as to her son’s whereabouts. Slowly, she leaned back sitting with her knees up, propping the book in her lap. Ever so carefully, Val unfolded the letter and keeping it hidden from the Home-Cam, she began to read.
Dear Mum and Dad, you know I love you, right? I’m so grateful for all the things you have done for me. From the very first time you sat me in front of ‘Webcam Pre-school,’ to the first time you took me outside into the polluted atmosphere to try out my new, baby blue, Health and Safety toddler protective gear.
Valerie rested her head back on to Connor’s pillow and pausing for a moment, she pictured the memories this brought back to her.
Thing is, the note continued, you know my webcam school friends Lisa and John? Well… they’ve been secretly telling me stories from a diary John found, which belonged to his Grandmother many years ago before she died. They’re fantastic Mum! They’ve made me realise that there’s got to be more to life than being wrapped up in cotton wool, cushioned from any possible dangers.
The more I read about her life, the more I felt imprisoned. This is why I felt I had run away with Lisa and John. It’s not that I don’t love you and Dad any more Mum, it’s just that I want to feel the freedom of making my own choices. I want life to be an adventure, not an organised, safe routine set by the DHS.’
Valerie felt a warm tear roll down her cheek as she considered her son’s brave, yet foolhardy actions. She read on, allowing the tear to cushion itself between her closed lips.
Life sounded like such fun back then, Mum. People weren’t afraid to make their own decisions. They didn’t overly worry about offending people or getting hurt through the slightest little thing. Risk was something they were prepared to live with Mum and from what I’ve known, I’d rather live with risk than a constant fear of what might happen. Val unwittingly licked the salty tear from her lip as she read on.
They didn’t have to learn the Health and Safety manual off by heart. Kids could be kids! Feelings of failure crept into her heart as she read the painful truth from her own child.
We only ever leave our house if the smoke alarm goes off or if you and Dad deem it an absolute necessity. Even then we have to wear face masks after smearing UVA cream all over ourselves, whatever the weather, just because the DHS say it’s in our best interests. Like John says, who are they anyway? Who made them the boss?
Connor’s neat handwriting, penned in blue, non-stain, non-toxic Biro, seemed to grow like veins out of the page, penetrating her mind with the truth she was reading. Each sentence pumped Connor’s observations into her already disillusioned heart. Val took in a deep breath before reading on.
Everyone works from home just in case they come into contact with someone who might have a contagious disease. You buy everything we need over the internet. Our groceries get delivered vacuum packed by a man wearing an oxygen mask and UVA gear, and cameras watch our every move, JUST IN CASE WE HURT OURSELVES!! Even then we have to pay for the privilege.
Val smiled as her eyes rested upon a doodle Conner had drawn of a finger poked up a nose. Underneath, he’d written, You can’t even pick your nose without being cautioned by a stranger on the end of a camera.
As if she needed reminding. Val smiled at the black, high-tech Home-Cam in the corner of her son’s room. Pointing towards the cover of the book she was pretending to read she said, “Great choice of book, I’ll have to get my husband to read it when Connor’s finished with it.” Smiling, she continued to read. Every item of clothing I wear, Mum, has got a tracking system sewn into it! I hadn’t realised how claustrophobic life was until John started telling me all about the past, in the good old days.
Did you know Mum that in the ‘Olden Days,’ kids went outside to play ball? They’d even meet up with real life friends and go out on bike rides. They didn’t have to link up with friends over the internet to play virtual games in an E.U. registered padded room like I have to. No, they would play a game called hide and seek, or they’d skip, run, and even jump off walls.
I want a life like that Mum. I want to go into one of those old fashioned classrooms and learn things alongside my friends. I want to hear a bell that tells me it’s playtime, a bell that signals a real football match on a school field rather than me on my own in a padded room with a virtual team projected on to a screen behind me.
The tension in Valerie’s neck forced her to rest the book down onto her stomach and laying her head back onto Connor’s anti-dust, anti-mite, anti-wrinkle pillow she began to reminisce over stories her own mother had told her about the good old days, before the DHS.
Val’s thoughts were soon interrupted by the camera in the corner of Connor’s room.
“The natural light is fading, you will hurt your eyes if you continue to read without the aid of the E.U. tested and approved daylight bulb.”
Val cursed the camera under her breath, before switching on the bedside lamp that sat on the small cupboard next to Connor’s bed.
© 2010 Jane Cuff
* * * * *
W.S: From Rear-Ended
To Slender Brenda
Chapter One
Keep smiling, Katie the overweight twelve year old encouraged herself as she listened to the sniggers of the other children. Clenching her fists, she kept her eyes firmly on the approaching double doors at the end of what seemed like a never-ending corridor. Picturing her Mum, Katie could hear her familiar advice of ‘laugh with them they’ll soon get bored and move on to someone else.’ Easier said than done, she thought, just moments before the next onslaught came.
“Oi, Weighty!” Shouted Mary, the dark haired girl from Katie’s tutor group. “Mrs Bing didn’t show up for my Maths lesson today, you sure you didn’t get hungry and eat her?”
Katie winced at the raucous howls of laughter coming from the packed corridor of children. Their snide looks and cruel cackles seemed to ricochet off each wall, hitting her again and again. With glaring looks, they watched as she lumbered her way along the blue painted corridor. The faster she went the more she seemed to sway from side to side.
Savouring the moment, they waited to see how the fat girl would react.
Katie felt as though she were a lone gazelle, featured in a nature programme (although a hippo would have been more appropriate, Katie wasn’t sure if a pack of hyenas would even attempt to attack a hippo). Sticking with the image of a gazelle, Katie imagined herself wounded and lame, desperate to escape the pack of merciless, relentless, bullying hyenas that were hunting her down. All the while, painfully aware the whole incident was being observed by onlookers; other students who remained to the side staring in silence, as though a camera crew filming the whole gory episode. Together they watched as the bullies ganged up to take down the weakest, Katie, and seemingly immune to any fear she might be feeling, the students remained out of harms way, allowing nature to take it’s natural course.
Fear constricted Katie’s throat, making it difficult for her to breathe. The lack of oxygen to her brain created a sensation of dizziness.
At last Katie felt the cool breeze coming from the double doors, which stood a few metres before her. Katie knew she was only moments away from the stuffy hold of the corridor and into the relative safety of the playing field where she could find a quiet corner to sit in.
Eyes fixed ahead, Katie read the familiar graffiti scrawled on the doors.
“Hey Weighty,” shouted another child, “Why don’t you roll down the corridor? Give your legs a break.”
The surrounding children laughed aloud, some of them retrieving gear from their lockers.
Katie’s vision blurred through the tears pooling in the rim of her lower eyelids. Still the children sniggered.
All that is except Brenda, another girl from Katie’s tutor group who looked on pitifully at the whole sorry incident.
Brenda, who only six months earlier had been known as Brenda Rear-Ender, due to her massive bottom, had now been renamed Slender Brenda by her fellow students. Admired by all for her achievement and commitment to lose weight, Brenda looked a million dollars thanks to a wonder diet she’d been on.
To make matters worse for Katie, only six months before she had been the exact weight Slender Brenda was now.
How had things changed so much?
How had Katie gone from being the bully to the bullied in just six months?
Chapter Two
Six months earlier
“Hey, Katie,” Sally called out, as she caught up with her best friend by their lockers. “What are you going to wear to Julie’s birthday disco on Saturday?”
Katie grinned at Sally, secure in the knowledge that she was going to be the prettiest girl there by a mile. So, with no shame of bragging she said: “My skinny jeans and a really cute, dark pink top that has a heart shaped diamond on the front of it.” Still grinning, Katie drew the shape of a heart onto her chest with her index finger, before confidently adding, “I won’t lie to you, it looks great on me.”
“Nice,” Sally replied as she waited in vain for Katie to take an interest in what she was going to wear.
Pride often restricted Katie from showing an interest in anyone other than herself. It was only when a person’s failings served to highlight her good looks and achievements, that Katie would pay them any attention. An opportunity to do just this came along in the form of Brenda.
“Oh for goodness sake, look at Brenda Rear-Ender, what a state?”
Wearing an over exaggerated look of disgust and quite unashamedly looking Brenda up and down, Katie tutted before shouting; “Here Sally, what’s the difference between Brenda Rear-Ender and a whale?” Sally grinned at Katie and then looking in the direction of Brenda, replied in a loud enough voice for the already self-conscious girl to hear:
“I don’t know Katie, what is the difference between, Brenda Rear-Ender and a whale?”
Pausing for a moment to make sure that she had the attention of those around her, Katie bellowed:
“Brenda Rear-Ender doesn’t have a blow hole.”
Both girls burst out laughing, satisfied that the other children within earshot had also found their cruel joke very funny.
Taking in a deep breath, Brenda opened up her locker, shut her eyes for a second and then bending over she reached inside to retrieve a textbook.
“Rear-Ender,” shouted Sally. “Don’t bend over too much or you’ll block out all the sun.” Hearing the giggles and taunts coming from behind her, Brenda pictured everyone’s eyes fixated on her bottom.
Brenda hated the way Katie treated her, just because she was fat. What have I ever done to deserve being treated like this by that horrid, stuck up old cow? She thought to herself. Ever since she first laid eyes on me, I’ve had to put up with her relentless hate campaign against me and for what? Just because I’m not gorgeous and slim like she is, it doesn’t give her the right to be so unkind and hurtful.
The two best friends, Katie and Sally watched as Brenda hurried to find her science book. Their attention however was taken off her when they noticed Dan and the new boy Rick approaching.
“Oh my goodness, look who it is!” Katie said, awestruck.
Both girls cooed as the two approaching boys headed their way and leaning into Sally, Katie’s voice was slow and quiet as she said, “They are so fit, aren’t they?” Sally remained with her eyes ahead, nodding in agreement.
“Hey,” the two boys said. “What you up to?”
“Nothing,” Sally said, followed immediately by uncontrollable giggling in the way that some girls do when a good-looking boy gives them any attention.
“Are you going to Julie’s disco on Saturday?” Katie asked Rick, finding it almost impossible to keep eye contact with him without blushing.
Flashing his straight, white teeth in a friendly smile he said, “I got an invite, are you going?”
Katie could feel the warmth in her cheeks winging its way towards her heart, the heart that she would so willingly give to Rick the moment he was sure to ask for it. Boldly she responded: “I was thinking about it.”
Hearing Katie’s response Sally said, “But you just told me what you’re going to wear to Julie’s disco.” She appeared surprised and slightly confused by Katie’s dismissive answer.
Laughing nervously at her friend’s blunder, Katie nudged Sally, who was clearly unaware that she didn’t want to appear too keen or even desperate.
“I might go,” she said in as cool and laid back voice as she could.
Rick smiled, holding eye contact with her for more than a moment. He couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was. Her long, dark hair highlighted her piercing blue eyes. As he was studying her face, so she was his.
Cor, you’re gorgeous, she thought to herself. We would look so good together at the disco; me the prettiest girl and you the best looking boy. Katie’s heart jumped at the thought of it.
Suddenly an opportunity popped up for Katie to show Rick that she wasn’t just pretty, she was also funny and popular. Over Rick’s shoulder Katie had caught sight of Brenda.
“Oh look at her now,” she laughed vindictively as she pointed between Rick and Dan towards Brenda.
“For goodness sake Rear-Ender, tuck your shirt in, I can see your flab from here.”
Rick and Dan both turned around to look. Dan continued staring at Brenda whilst Rick turned back towards Katie.
Beaming, she looked into his eyes. I think I’ve shown him that I’m not just a pretty face, I’m funny as well, she thought, smugly.
As Rick held her gaze he was thinking, what a shame that such an attractive girl can have such an unattractive heart. After all, he thought, looks only last so long, whereas the heart lasts forever.
Seeing her with different eyes, Rick’s demeanour changed from friendly to frosty.
“You know what?” he said, “I don’t think I will be going to Julie’s disco, I’ve just remembered there’s something I’ve got to do on Saturday.”
Turning around, Rick slapped his hand down onto Dan’s shoulder to get his attention, and without as much as a goodbye or a ‘See ya,’ the two boys walked off.
“Shame,” Sally said, trying ever so hard not to grin, “I thought you had him for a moment then.”
Katie smirked back at her friend as she said, “I’m not finished yet Sally.
As the line moved forwards, Brenda was accidentally pushed by the child behind her, shoving her onto the child in front.
“Steady, Rear-Ender,” snapped the boy in front, as he manoeuvred himself around to face her. Looking at her as though she were worthless he said, “Blimey I can hardly move because you’re taking up so much room.”
Having intimidated her, he then went on to humiliate her. “Mind you, at least I’m in front of you,” he said smirking, “Because if I was behind you there might not be anything left for me to eat.”
Brenda bit her top lip as she felt everyone’s eyes upon her. Jammed in between the horrible boy in front and the children in the queue behind, Brenda heard the quiver in her voice as she said:
“Sorry.”
“I should think so,” snapped the boy who seemed to be enjoying every moment of Brenda’s suffering. “You nearly squashed me then fatso. Be careful.”
Brenda felt her whole face turning red with embarrassment, knowing that the harsh, loud-mouthed boy had made sure everyone else could hear his insults.
Apologising, desperate to get the attention away from herself, Brenda promised she would be more careful in future.
Standing in the queue silently, shame and self-loathing burnt like an acid in the pit of her stomach.
Reaching the serving hatch, Brenda picked up her cutlery along with a slightly chipped, cream coloured plate. Looking down at the selection of food in front of her, she became painfully aware that the children in the queue behind her were watching her every move.
Weighing up her options, Brenda thought to herself, if I go for the salad, they’re going to laugh at me, and if I go for my favourite meal, everyone’s going to think I’m a pig. Stuck between these two judgements, Brenda decided that she might as well enjoy her lunch, so holding out her plate towards the dinner lady, Brenda asked for chicken nuggets and chips.
“There you go love,” said the well-meaning dinner lady as she gave Brenda an extra big portion.
“No wonder she’s the size she is,” said someone from within the queue.
The dinner lady smiled pitifully at the overweight girl as she thought to herself, poor kid,she’s such an easy target.
“Ignore them love,” she said, “You can’t help being big-boned.”
Forcing a smile, Brenda yelped within as she heard a child behind her saying:
“Big boned, more like big all over.”
The dinner lady’s misjudged act of kindness was immediately turned into a vicious joke for the whole dinner queue to enjoy, as in ‘Chinese Whisper’ style, each child turned to the one behind, repeating all that had gone on at the front of the queue.
Conscious that everyone was eyeing up her plate, Brenda continued walking over towards the empty table she’d spotted earlier. She could hear their judgemental whispers as she passed by.
“No wonder she’s so fat,” she heard one child saying to another. “There’s enough food on her plate to feed an army.”
“I know,” said another, “You’d think the dinner ladies would help her and give her a smaller portion or something, wouldn’t you?”
Relieved to be sat down, Brenda was grateful that the table created some sort of barrier between her and everyone else in the hall. Head down, not making eye contact with anyone, she slowly started to eat.
Halfway through her meal, she was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
“Can I sit with you?”
Looking up, she was taken by surprise to see the new boy Rick standing at her table. Eyes locked onto his; Brenda suddenly became very aware that she was chewing on a chicken nugget.
Repeating himself he said, “Can I sit with you?”
Nearly gagging on her mouthful, Brenda said, “You’re the new boy aren’t you?”
“Yep,” he said, and fed up with waiting for an answer he pulled out a chair to sit opposite Brenda.
A blanket of silence smothered the earlier vibrant chatting of the other children around her.
Brenda imagined a great big neon sign above her head, which read: ‘For goodness sake, someone rescue the good-looking new boy, he’s accidentally sat down opposite Rear-Ender!’
Nervously she asked him, “Why do you want to sit here? There’s loads of room on the other tables.”
“Why not?” Rick replied, smiling at her.
Brenda began to feel cross that Rick was drawing yet more unwanted attention onto her.
Taking a slurp of his drink, Rick asked, “Were you saving it for one of your friends?”
“Oh, so that’s it is it? You want to poke fun at me for not having any friends do you?”
Rick felt desperately sorry for her, as he said, “What none at all?”
The tone of his voice and his gentle manner enabled Brenda to stop feeling threatened.
“Nope, not one,” she said frankly, “Not even Mark, you know the tall, curly haired boy with the body odour problem.”
Before she knew what she was doing, Brenda winked at Rick in jest. Her face froze at the realisation that she had let her guard down.
Nobody at school knew that she had a great sense of humour because nobody bothered to find out. She had become accustomed to not using it.
Rick playfully went along with her joke. Gasping before covering his mouth with his right hand he said, “I can’t believe you just said that.” As he did, Brenda noticed he was wearing a little red and gold lapel pin badge with the letters, ‘W.S’ on it.
Grinning he looked back towards Brenda, who had the look of a helpless, cornered rabbit, waiting for it’s predator to strike.
“But…” Brenda started to say.
Rick interrupted her and placing his finger over his lips he beckoned for her to be quiet as he said, “Shush… trust me Brenda, please. I promise you won’t regret it.”
© 2009 Jane Cuff
