The Bubble Wrap Boy (21 page)

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Authors: Phil Earle

BOOK: The Bubble Wrap Boy
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He scoffed at me. “That's crap and you know it. If you were thinking of yourself, you'd still be all over Skatefest. All you're doing is thinking of your mom, and not upsetting her.”

“Her sister just DIED, Sinus!”

“And I'm sad for her, just like I am for you. But don't you see, Charlie, it might feel like the end of everything, but it's really just the perfect start. Here's your chance to draw a line under everything that's gone on. To turn the hugest negative into a positive SO BIG you won't be able to see the ends of it. Think about it, will you?”

I listened to him, I really did, but I couldn't see how I could do it to Mom, not today.

Strangely, he didn't want to hear that either.

“Go on, then. Toss the whole thing away. Doesn't matter to me. My stuff's still up there on the wall, and I don't care if no one finds out today. They will in time if I want them to.”

He turned to leave, then thought better of it. “But I'll tell you one thing, whether you believe it or not. I didn't do any of this for me. I did it for you. Because I owe you. It pains me to say it, but it's true. You could've walked away from me loads of times these last few years. I know I've pushed you. Given you hundreds of opportunities, but you never took them. Not once. And here we are now, in a situation we never thought we could be in, with the chance for both of us to stand there and say
Hey! Look at us. This is what we can do
. Imagine being able to do that, Charlie. Imagine it. Imagine the looks on their faces. Then tell me we'll ever really have this chance again. Because I'll tell you what? If we don't do it now, I don't think we ever will.”

It was a good speech, I had to give him that. The sort of speech that deserved an orchestra swelling in the background.

All right, it was manipulative and it might all have been drivel just to get me onside, but he knew me too well.

He'd gotten me thinking. About where Mom was and when she'd be back. About the fact that I didn't need her to see me on the board anymore, at least not today. Maybe today
was
just about the idiots at school, about proving them wrong. Everything else could wait. It had to. My pulse was firing and my feet were itching to jump on the board.

“Maybe we could have a look, you know, at what's going on at the park?”

I never was good at playing things down and Sinus knew it.

“Nice one.” He grinned. “But you need to figure your clothes out. You won't impress anyone dressed like that.”

Things were changing, or were about to, but it was a relief that some things, the comforting things, always stayed the same.

T
he park was humming: with people, music, and the noise of a thousand wheels spinning on asphalt. It was a skater's heaven, even better than I'd dreamed it would be, despite having thought about it for months every time I'd closed my eyes.

The place was transformed. There were food stalls, beer tents and, most importantly, stands where you could buy every bit of skating gear known to man. Tongues were hanging out, wallets being emptied in sheer joy. I took it all in, saw a hundred things I could've bought, but knew I needed none of them. In my hands I had my secret weapon. I knew there wouldn't be a better-looking board on display all day.

I found it hard to take my eyes off it. Had stared at it for ages back at the apartment as Sinus customized the T-shirt I'd chosen to wear, had tripped over several curbs on the way here due to its seductive qualities.

Sinus was right. Today's opportunity was too good to waste. Okay, so the plan had changed, but it didn't matter if Mom missed this. In my head it was better now if she didn't see it at all; she'd have enough going on today with doctors and undertakers. I'd tackle her on the subject later, after the funeral, when things were calmer and we were ready to move on.

No, today was the first step, the step that put me on the path that showed how no amount of humiliation at school would stop me from proving myself. From proving
them
wrong.

We lined up to register for the half-pipe competition, Sinus with his nose in the air for all to see, me with a baseball cap pulled low beneath my hoodie.

If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it with maximum impact, without anyone knowing I was entering. Though in hindsight, it was a pretty dumb expectation. Unless there was an age category for five-year-olds, anyone who saw the short kid in line would know who I was and what I was up to.

“Keep calm, will you?” Sinus hissed next to me.

“I am calm,” I answered, only then noticing the board shaking in my left hand. “It's just adrenaline.”

“Yeah, right. Just like the liquid adrenaline dripping down your jeans.”

I knew I wasn't
that
scared but still chanced a quick look down just in case, which tickled Sinus no end.

“Don't you have anything else to do?” I asked. “There must be one wall in this place you haven't violated.”


Au contraire,
” he laughed, and pointed at three in our eye line alone, all painted with Technicolor
BWB
s.

It was all right for him, I thought. He could do his part at night, under no pressure, with nobody watching him. Unlike me, who had to risk shattering every bone in my body in front of the whole town. They'd forget it if one of his designs was lousy; no way would they afford me the same leniency.

It took longer than it should have to register, not helped by the jerk on the desk who was having trouble getting his head around my age. It got so desperate at one point that I thought I was going to have to show him my armpit hair to convince him that I wasn't seven, as he so helpfully believed.

We got there in the end, a textbook left in my backpack just about proving my eligibility, much to the mirth of the floppy-haired kids behind us. I didn't recognize them, fortunately, or a lot of the others in the line, which suited me fine. The farther they'd traveled, the less they knew about my past humiliations and the more likely they'd be to accept me solely for what I could do on the board.

We hung around after that, killing time, watching the other competitions, slack-jawed at the skill on display. It made me nervous, wondering if I had the skills to be sharing the same air as these guys, never mind skating beside them. Sinus wasn't having any of it, though, murmuring in my ear every time someone pulled off a move.

“I've seen you do that better,” he'd whisper. “No style, no finesse. You'll kill it.”

I didn't know who this new, improved best friend was, but I knew I liked him. It was like he was sitting next to me with a bike pump, blowing as much confidence into me as my body would allow.

It made me itchy to throw the board beneath my feet and get started, so we headed for the basketball court near the amp, which everyone was using as a warm-up space for the day. We made our way through the crowd, passing more and more of Sinus's designs, so many that they became wallpaper in the world's biggest living room. I felt stupidly lucky that all of this was for me, still found it difficult to take my eyes off them as we moved along.

Which was probably why my clumsy gene took over again, walking me straight into someone coming in the opposite direction. I turned my head toward them to apologize, the words catching in my throat as they came into focus. It was the one person I didn't want to see, whose presence instantly squashed every bit of newfound confidence out of me.

I was doomed.

I'd just walked into Mom.

“I
think we need to talk, don't you?” she said, her face like granite.

“Yes, Mom,” I answered.

Sinus was now cowering behind me, not that I blamed him.

I tried to read something into her words. In some ways they were positive. She hadn't gone ballistic like last time: there were no raised voices or histrionics, just a disappointed look that said she'd almost expected me to be here.

It wasn't until we headed for the fringes of the crowd that I realized Dad was there too, though he didn't look angry either. He looked, I don't know,
poised
. Not something you associated with him unless he had a wok in his hand.

Even when Mom turned to him with the first barbed comment, he didn't lose his cool.

“I should've known something was going on when you suggested the park,” she said, making me want to protect him immediately.

“Look, I'm sorry, Mom. I haven't done this to upset you. I didn't think you'd know, thought you'd be at the hospital still, or sleeping.” She looked like she needed to sleep, her red eyes the only color in her face.

“I tried to rest,” she answered, “but my head was full of…well, you know. So your dad suggested a walk. I can see why now.”

I had no idea what was coming next. I'd never told Dad about Skatefest, so I could only imagine he'd figured out what I was up to over time. But if that was the case, why bring her here? He knew how much the skating meant to me, he'd helped me practice for god's sake, so why set me up so she could rain on my parade again?

“I don't know what to say to either of you,” she said, tears brewing. “What sort of sick joke is this? I don't know whether you've done it on purpose or planned it since last night. But I don't want to talk about it here, not in front of your friends, Charlie. You might think I only exist to humiliate you, but it's not the case. You know now why I worry so much. So let's go home. We can talk about it there.”

“Mrs. H, please,” piped up a voice from behind me. The politest Sinus voice I'd ever heard. “I know it's none of my business, but you need to see Charlie do this. He's practiced really hard, and as much as it pains me to say it, he's got a gift.”

“A gift?” she scoffed. “Is that what you call it? Well, I've seen him on that thing”—she pointed at the board like it was an enormous turd—“and I wouldn't call it a gift. I'd call it a death wish. Wouldn't you?”

For some reason, and I had no idea why, Sinus didn't back down at that point. He stepped from behind me and went on.

“I'm really sorry about your sister, Mrs. H.” I watched Mom flinch, then boil as she realized her secret had spread further than Dad and me. “But you have to let Charlie do this. After everything that's been going on at school, this is his cha—”

“Don't you lecture me, Linus.” She managed to shout without raising her voice, which was terrifying. “Or tell me what's going on for Charlie. Don't you think I know what he's faced at school?”

It was turning into a duel, one in which I could see only one winner, but the prospect of scorched ears didn't bother Sinus a bit. I could see him steeling himself for another verbal volley, before being interrupted by a third, and most unlikely, voice.

“That's just it, dear,” Dad interjected, his voice calm. “You
don't
know what it's been like for Charlie, not really.”

She looked shocked for a second, not used to such a challenge, but it didn't stop Dad.

“I'm no expert either. I only know what I've been told, but I'm telling you, he's been through the absolute wringer.”

“What do you mean?”

“After you confronted him at the ramp, the other kids, well, they didn't make life easy for him.”

“That's an understatement,” scoffed Sinus, who then wilted under stares from both Mom
and
Dad.

“Well, I suppose I could've reacted differently.” She blushed. “Taken him home instead of handling things there and then. If they teased you as a result, Charlie, then I'm…”

“Teased him?” Dad answered. “Teasing doesn't come anywhere near it.” And with that he launched into the whole humiliation. The videos and photos around school, all building to the grand finale, the bubble wrap debacle. It was weird hearing it: uncomfortable, but not wounding. Like listening to a story that had happened to someone else. I knew where all Dad's details had come from: Sinus, who else? He shrugged innocently when I looked at him.

As I turned again to Dad, it made me realize what a good job I'd done of bouncing back. Made me realize even more just how important today was in putting things right, and how completely I was at Mom's mercy.

I wanted to put my hands over my ears as she spoke, couldn't cope with the possibility that she would still force me home.

“Is this true, Charlie?” There was plenty of doubt in her voice.

“Yes.”

“All of it? Even the bubble wrap stuff?”

I nodded gently, could feel the sweat collect on my back, just as it had under all the layers of plastic.

“So why didn't you tell me? We could've done something about it. Told the school. We still can.” She looked around frantically, as if Mr. Peach was going to magically appear in the throng, skateboard in hand.

“But it didn't happen at school, Mom. It happened here. And most of the kids aren't even at my school.”

“Then we go to the police. They can't do things like that, it's bullying.”

It might have been the grief talking, or sheer undiluted panic, but she had no idea how ridiculous that idea sounded.

And I wasn't brave enough to tell her directly. I tried gently to explain.

“But all that would do is set me up as the victim again. Give them every bit of ammo they need to take another shot, and another, and another, until I'll never want to get out of bed.”

Sinus could see my bravery growing and stood beside me.

“That's why Charlie needs to get on that ramp today, Mrs. H. All he needs is two minutes—two minutes to put an end to it all. Because once they see what he can do, everything changes. Everything.”

Mom was as unsure as Sinus was certain. “And you can guarantee that, can you, Linus? You can stand there and tell me, one hundred percent, that every time Charlie takes off on that thing he's going to land on his feet?”

“No, of course he can't,” said Dad.

“Then we go home and we find another way of sorting this out. I can't let you do this, Charlie. I'm sorry. Not today.”

And my tears started again. Bigger and heavier than the night before, ending the game there and then.

“But there won't be another today, will there?” I had no idea where Dad had found his spine, but he certainly had it now. “Because every time something like this comes up, you'll act the same way. You'll find something else, another reason for him not to do it.”

“That's just not true,” she argued.

“But it is. It already is. Look at the trike, for god's sake. He should be delivering on a mountain bike or a racer. In two years' time he should be doing it on a moped!”

That was too much for Mom, who'd crossed to a whole new scale of panic.

“What is it with you?” she cried. “Can you not understand why I'm finding this difficult? Why, after everything I've let happen in the past, I might want to protect my own son?”

I could see Sinus shifting uncomfortably, looking at his shoes. Even for someone as nosy as him, it was difficult stuff to listen to.

“But we're suffocating him! Both of us. What's going to happen when he turns eighteen and goes to college? What's he going to do when he gets there and has no idea how to cope with anything that happens? We've got to let him make his own mistakes.”

“Oh, it's so easy for you to say, isn't it? But all it takes is one wrong step and that's it.”

Dad changed gears at this point, stepping back from the anger and reaching for her shoulders instead.

“What happened to Dora was a tragedy. A disaster for everyone. But it was a
freak
accident. You couldn't ask a mathematician to give you odds on it happening again. Not to Charlie. And besides, I've seen him on this thing. Believe it or not, you might find yourself proud when you see what he can do.”

Mom was crying up a storm by now. Shoulders raised and jerking as she forced words out.

“I don't need to see him on a board for that. I just need him to be careful.”

“And he will be, won't you, son? You've got pads and a helmet, yes?” He shot me a look that screamed,
Please tell
me you have pads and a helmet!

“Elbow, wrist, knees, and head. All in my bag. Customized as well, with extra padding.”

“See,” said Dad, relieved. “Not a thing to worry about, dear. You'll see.”

“No, I won't,” Mom answered, a weak smile on her lips. “You can try all you like to persuade me, but it won't work.”

She turned to me, and with what looked like the last bit of energy she had left in her body, said, “I'm not going to stop you, Charlie. If you need to do this, then go ahead. But I can't watch you do it. I just can't.”

And after a hug that she clearly didn't want to end, she pushed on through the crowd, leaving me completely torn.

“What do I do?” I asked Dad. “Seriously, what do I do now?”

His reply was certain, emphatic. “Do what you always planned to, son. Go out there and show them.”

“But what about Mom?”

“She's my concern. Not yours. All you need to do is stay on that board. You hear me? Please?”

And he pushed on too, leaving me alone with Sinus and with a bigger point to prove than ever.

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