The Day the Ear Fell Off (12 page)

Bee said, ‘That’s what comes with fame. If you’re well-known, everyone has to have an opinion about you.’

I don’t think she minds being in the spotlight, but I don’t like it at all. Mum says it’ll die down. (Yes, I told my mum. She got suspicious because I was being so secretive
and kept hiding things in my safe as she barged into my room. I think she thought I was hiding cigarettes or stuff I’d stolen. As if? This is Keener, remember?)
Well, I hope it dies down
soon,
I thought. But that was before morning assembly, when it became clear that Tribe was going to be in the limelight for a while longer.

a shock in assembly

It was whole school assembly and we were near the back, as usual, all in a line together: me, Copper Pie, Bee, Fifty and then Jonno.

The theme (there’s always a theme) was sharing. There was a reading and the Year 3s did a play that was rubbish, except for my little sister Flo, who had everyone in stitches. She shouted
her lines out
so
loud that everyone had to cover their ears and if anyone else hesitated, even for a second, she said their lines too. She’s a nightmare.

Last of all, there were the school notices which are things like cake sales and reminders not to leave the school grounds until picked up by a parent unless you have a letter giving you
permission.
Yawn!

‘We have commissioned a survey of the outside areas of the school with a view to increasing the variety of play offered. The initial feedback suggests that, although providing a pleasant
backdrop, the trees by the netball court both cast too much shade and waste valuable space that could, for example, be used as a quiet area with seating and tables.’

There was the sound of everyone in the school gasping, followed by a breeze caused by everyone turning their heads to stare at us.

‘As part of our commitment to the environment, we will in turn plant some new trees along the borders by the school gates.’

What was she on about?

There was a painful few minutes of being nudged and nudging. And whispers: our den . . . no way . . . nowhere left . . . challenge the decision . . . they can’t . . .

‘We will consult school council which sits this Thursday, so if you have any suggestions be sure to tell your class representative.’

‘Well, that’s the end of you lot, isn’t it?’ said Callum on the way back to class. ‘You’ll never survive in the playground with the rest of
us.’

I didn’t have an answer but Jonno did. ‘You don’t need to worry about us, Callum. We’ll stick together and of course you’ll keep your eye on us.’

Callum grunted and scuttled away.

There was no chance to discuss the devastating news until break. I suppose it gave us all time to have a think. Except Copper Pie, who doesn’t believe in thinking, only action . . .

‘We refuse to move. That’s what we do. Sit under the trees until they agree to leave them
right where they are
.’

‘It’s called a “sit-in”. It’s what people who live in lovely thatched cottages with rose bushes do if they’re bang in the way of where some horrible, greedy
man wants to build a motorway,’ said Bee.

‘I can’t see that working,’ said Fifty. ‘We’re kids. They’d just send five big policemen with dogs to pick us up and throw us in the back of a Black
Maria.’

‘A what?’ said Bee.

‘You know, one of those mega-big police vans with blacked-out windows. So you can’t see the cops beating up homeless people and drug dealers,’ said Copper Pie.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Bee. ‘You watch too much of the wrong telly.’

‘There’s no such thing as wrong telly,’ Copper Pie said back.

‘Bee, you should run a school for young offenders. You’d sort them out all right,’ said Jonno.

‘I would too. It’s common sense. Work them hard all day, outside in the fresh air doing something worthwhile, give them a big
nutritious
meal at night – homegrown
organic food – and then a comfy bed. They’d be too tired and happy to commit a crime.’

‘They’d nick each other’s food and bully the weedy ones,’ said Copper Pie.

‘Only if they were all like you,’ said Bee.

‘Shut up, you two. This is completely different from anything Tribe’s faced before. We’re up against the Head. It’s not an equal fight so we need to be clever. We need to
find a way to make the school council want to keep the playground as it is,’ said Fifty, my law-abiding friend.

‘But the school council is made up of geeks,’ said C.P.

‘And the only people who would want the trees to stay are us,’ I said.

‘It would help if they were nice trees,’ said Jonno.

We were in trouble. Jonno didn’t have any ideas either. Maybe we were going to lose our territory.

‘Come on. There must be lots of eco-reasons why they should stay,’ said Bee.

‘Like what? The Head said they were going to plant new trees,’ said Fifty.

‘We can’t just give up,’ I said. ‘We need sensible ideas.’

‘Time for a brainstorm,’ said Fifty.

‘
Qué?’
said Bee.

‘It means we all suggest things and no one’s allowed to say anything bad about any of them. Mum says that knowing no one is going to laugh at what you say frees up your
thinking.’

‘OK, brainstorm it is. But only if no one mentions nappies, bogies or cardboard ears,’ said Bee.

‘You obviously don’t get it, Bee. Anything goes.’

‘I don’t see how a list of mad ideas is going to help,’ I said.

‘Same,’ said Copper Pie.

‘Same,’ said Jonno, grinning. Nobody except Fifty says ‘same’.

Fifty flung his arms out and wailed, ‘Why am I surrounded by idiots?’

‘Same,’ said Jonno, flinging his arms out.

‘Same,’ said Bee and Copper Pie at the same time.

It was quite funny, but laughing isn’t the answer to
anything
.

Fifty ignored them. ‘After we make a list of every possible
and
impossible solution to our problem, we go through the list and discuss them all until we find one that
works.’

‘Right,’ I said. ‘At lunch I’ll bring out some paper and we’ll do Fifty’s brainstorm. We’ll write down all the ideas and no one’s allowed to
criticise . . .’ (Copper Pie made a you’re-a-bossy-secretary face) ‘. . . or make faces.’

’Even if it’s a lunatic idea?’ said Bee.

‘Even then,’ I said.

‘And when we’ve finished the list we’ll go through and see which ones are any good. Understood?’ Fifty said. He was starting to act like his mum.
Scary!

Lots of nodding.

‘Good. Sorted.’

It’s a good job we
were
sorted because Callum wandered over.

‘I thought I’d have a look around,’ he said. ‘See if I can come up with some suggestions for what to turn your dump into.’

Copper Pie stepped in front of him, barring his way.
Oh no! Here we go again,
I thought.

‘I don’t think the Head would be very pleased to hear that a Year 6 gang were blocking the way into the area she’s asked us to have a look at,’ said Callum.

Smarmy, bigheaded twit.

‘It’s all yours,’ said Bee, smiling as she linked arms with Copper Pie and ambled into the playground.

Fifty and I followed.

‘Be careful of the stag beetles,’ said Jonno. ‘The females have got a nasty nip.’

‘Loser,’ said Callum.

Jonno peered over his glasses, which is his favourite look. ‘No need to be like that, Callum. I was trying to stop you from getting a bruise from some meaty mandibles.’

Jonno’s so good at that. He always answers in a way that you could never say was rude or even unfriendly. He was the same when Copper Pie was trying to kill him. Always calm. Always sort
of sure of himself somewhere inside, where it matters. I’m going to practise being like that.

My dear Flo, I’m very sorry that you thought I said you could borrow my remote-controlled tank. If I was going to lend it to anyone, you would be top of the list but for now it’s
not available for lending.

Mum, I’m sure that by asking me to be in bed, lights out, at nine you’re trying to do the best for me, but I can only sleep when I feel tired and nine isn’t a tired time for
me. But thank you anyway.

‘Miss Walsh.’ Callum’s hand was up the minute we walked into class. ‘Miss Walsh, you know the Head told us about the tree-felling planned for the
horrible corner by the netball courts?’

‘Yes, Callum.’

‘I’ve had a good idea, Miss. We could make a vegetable and herb garden and the kitchen could use the stuff we grow for our lunches.’

Someone smother him, the creep.

Unfortunately his suggestion ticked all the right boxes:

The ‘improve school dinners’ box,

The ‘locally grown veg’ box,

The ‘learning where our food comes from’ box,

The ‘we could start a gardening club’ box.

‘That would be an excellent use of wasted space.’ (
Wasted space? How dare she?
) ‘Well done, Callum. I’ll mention it to the Head.’ She turned round to put
Callum’s name under the tick column on the blackboard.

‘Excuse me, Miss, the suggestions are meant to come through the school council member, which is me,’ said Lily.

Bee winked at her. She was obviously on our side.

‘We can both pass on the idea then,’ said Miss Walsh. ‘Such an excellent idea deserves double the amount of attention.’

Doomed. Our patch was going to be overtaken by sage and parsley.

an opportunity knocks

The brainstorm was lots of whipping wind but no roofs blown off. I don’t know why but we can never have a proper talk about anything. As Bee predicted, it ended up with
jokes about nappies and mashed potato. This time we got sidetracked on to what we’d take with us if we were going to sit under the trees for a week and refuse to budge from our patch (which
we’re not).

Lily interrupted us. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ That was Fifty.

‘Hello.’ That was me.

‘Greetings, friend.’ That was Bee.

(Lily is the only girl that Bee’s friendly with. She needs at least one mate that’s a girl or she’d never have a partner to do girl things with at school. Bee asked if Lily
could join Tribe, but it’s quite a commitment to be a proper member – you know, meetings and stuff – and your loyalties have to be to Tribe and no one else. Lily’s pretty
friendly with Grace so we said no.)

‘I’ve had an idea that might help you out,’ said Lily.

‘Well, spill,’ said Bee.

‘You know I’m the class rep on the school council?’

‘Yes,’ we all said, keen to hear what miracle she was about to reveal.

‘Well, I don’t really want to be on it any more, so I thought if I resigned and one of you took my place, you might be able to persuade the rest of the council to keep the trees and
then you’d keep your den.’

‘Thanks, Lily,’ said Fifty. ‘Nice of you to think of us. What do you think, Tribers?’ He didn’t sound very hopeful. I didn’t feel very hopeful.

‘It’s bound to help having someone on the council. At the very least we’ll hear what’s going on before the rest of the school,’ said Bee.

‘Agreed,’ I said.

‘Same,’ said Fifty.

‘Is it that easy to get on?’ said Jonno. ‘Can you just suggest yourself?’ Sometimes I forget Jonno’s a new boy. He seems to have been here forever.

‘No,’ said Copper Pie. ‘We’re meant to vote people on but it’s usually a fix – teachers always manage to fill the places with keeners.’ He looked at me.
‘Sorry, Keener. Nothing personal.’ And then he looked at Lily. ‘Sorry, Lily. Not your fault you get picked . . . every year.’

‘Zip it, Copper Pie. You’re not helping,’ said Bee.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Lily, ‘I’d rather be a keener than a b— b— biffer.’

I think she was going to say ‘bully’ but you have to be careful. In our school it’s worse than a swear word.

‘I can think of a way Miss Walsh might agree to put a Triber on the council,’ I said.

‘Go on then, Keener,’ said Jonno.

‘Lily, you could say that you thought it would be nice to let Jonno have a go because he’s new and it would help him settle in.’

Good idea,
I thought, even though it was me who said it.

‘Not a bad idea, Keener,’ said Bee.

‘OK. I’ll try,’ said Lily. ‘And if it works, maybe you could persuade the council to suggest we eat our packed lunches outside again?’ (We have to eat them in the
canteen because of all the litter we left behind in the playground.)

‘Don’t see why not,’ said Bee. ‘But you’ve been on the council for ages, why didn’t you ask?’

Lily bit her lip and looked upwards and sideways. ‘I did, but nobody agreed with me. They all sided with Minnie who said people should eat school lunches.’

(Minnie’s in the other class. She wears black stuff on her nails. Her brother’s in Flo’s class. They have free dinners like Bee.)

‘Oh,’ said Bee. ‘Right. Well, I suppose we could try again?’

I nodded.

‘Thanks, Lily,’ said Bee.

‘Yeah, thanks. Really big thanks.’ Methinks Copper Pie was trying to make it up to her.

‘Same,’ said Fifty, smiling his toothpaste-ad smile.