The Day the Ear Fell Off (7 page)

a true and faithful account

‘We want all the details, leave nothing out,’ said Bee. She was in my hammock, swaying. The rest of us were propped up against bits of furniture, except Fifty, who
was sitting on my safe.

‘I don’t want to think about it. I want to
forget
every tiny detail,’ said Jonno.

So Copper Pie started, with Jonno chipping in. He called it, ‘A true and faithful account of walking home with Jonno,’ as though he was in court, which he probably will be one
day.

‘Bee had gone to the dentist . . . Did you have anything done?’

‘No.’

‘So the healthy eating’s paid off,’ said Fifty.

She showed us her teeth.

‘Come on, Copper Pie. We want to hear about the Alley Cats,’ I said.

‘Right,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Bee had gone, and so had you and Fifty, so there was only Jonno left in the playground . . .’ (I was taking notes, just in case anything
important cropped up) ‘so we went off together.’

‘Bee wants details, remember,’ said Jonno. ‘Copper Pie was eating a sausage roll and he offered me one, but I said no – cold sausage rolls are yuk.’

‘Suited me,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I ate them both. And then we started talking about what we like to eat. And I said I like pork pies with tomato sauce in front of the
telly.’

Bee pretended to vomit.

‘Can we get on with it?’ I said. They were enjoying being storytellers a bit too much. ‘We want details but not
every
word.’

‘OK, OK,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I turned the
right
way – out of the gates towards the bus stop – but Jonno didn’t . . . and that was when the trouble
started.
He
wanted to go through the alley. I said, “No way”.’

‘No, you didn’t!’ said Jonno. ‘You said, “Oh no no no no, no,” like a girl. So I said, “Oh yes yes yes yes yes” back.’

‘Sounds like a pantomime,’ I said.

‘Exactly what I thought,’ said Jonno.

Copper Pie ignored Jonno and carried on as though he wasn’t there. ‘I tried to tell him to come with me. But he wouldn’t.’

‘That’s because you didn’t explain why the alley was such a bad idea,’ said Jonno.

‘I tried. But you wouldn’t have come whatever I said. You’d made your mind up.’

I thought Copper Pie was probably right. It reminded me of the labels his mum has for all the kids she looks after at the nursery: placid (it means dopey), lively (that means headcase),
mischievous (pain in the neck) and sensitive (wuss). Jonno’s label would be: knows his own mind.

‘You told me it was a no-go zone,’ said Jonno. ‘That was it. End of.’

‘That’s not true. I told you the kids from the secondary school block it,’ said C.P.

‘But you didn’t say how. And anyway I knew I was safe with you. I’d been in one of your headlocks, remember? I didn’t realise you were
scared
,’ said
Jonno.

‘Did you just say I was scared?’ said Copper Pie.

‘Yep.’ That was brave of Jonno.

‘Well, if I was so scared, why didn’t I leave you to go down the alley on your own? Answer that.’

‘Because you’re stupid,’ I said. That was brave of me.

‘Thanks, Keener.’

‘I think he meant loyal,’ said Fifty. ‘Because you’re loyal.’

‘I wasn’t being loyal or stupid,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I was stuck with a mate who wouldn’t do what I said. What else could I do? I gave in and we went off to the
alley. And what a smart move that was, Jonno!’

I hoped they weren’t going to fall out.

‘But I didn’t know what was going to happen, did I?’ said Jonno.

‘Too right. You were too busy going on about that friend who wants his own Tribe.’

‘He’s called Ravi,’ said Jonno. ‘In fact, in the middle of all that, you suddenly asked me if I could sprint. What was that all about?’

‘I was working out whether we could leg it if things got tricky, but you said you couldn’t run.’

‘Oh!’ said Jonno. ‘I thought it was something to do with Sports Day.’

‘Moron,’ said Copper Pie.

‘We turned into the alley,’ said Jonno, avoiding Copper Pie and talking to the rest of us.

The alley is skinny and the walls are high so it’s always dark, a bit like our patch. I waited to hear what happened next.

‘I was praying
they
wouldn’t be there,’ said Copper Pie. ‘But no such luck. There were loads of them, all hanging about by the bollards at the end.’

‘As usual,’ said Bee.

‘I was totally confused,’ said Jonno. ‘What could be so frightening about a few girls?’

‘I’d forgotten to tell him the gang was all girls,’ said Copper Pie. ‘But girls are ten times worse than boys. Boys you can thump.’

I agree,
I thought. With a sister like Amy I’m an expert on how bad teenage girls can be.

‘I didn’t get it at all,’ said Jonno. ‘I kept on walking.’

Inside I was cringing. I could picture the two of them on their own in the alley – Copper Pie desperate to get away and Jonno with no idea how bad it was going to get.

I looked over at Bee and Fifty. I was sure we were all thinking the same thing. The Alley Cats are witches.

‘I wanted to forget it,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Go back past the bus stop. It was bad enough knowing what they did last time, but this time I was with Jonno who looks . .
.’

I knew what Copper Pie meant. Jonno’s got mad hair and wears his glasses right at the end of his nose. He walks around with his hands in his pockets, sort of slouchy, and his rucksack
hanging so low it nearly drags on the floor. He looks like a brainy American kid, which is fine, except in the alley, where it would be much more useful if he looked like a bodybuilder.

‘What do I look like?’ said Jonno with a worry crease in his forehead.

Fifty grabbed the glasses, put his hands in his pockets and pretended to walk like Jonno. It was quite funny.

‘So what happened next?’ I wanted to get to the action (and stop them teasing Jonno).

‘Nothing. We kept walking,’ said Jonno.

‘They’d seen us,’ said Copper Pie, ‘but they didn’t do anything.’

‘Until halfway down the alley . . .’ added Jonno.

‘And?’ It was like waiting for Christmas, listening to them plod through the story.

‘The girls started clapping.’ Jonno showed us: clap-clap, clap-clap-clap, clap-clap-clap-clap, CLAP-CLAP. ‘Like the crowd at football matches. Except instead of shouting
“England” they shouted . . . “GINGER!”’

Ouch!
Copper Pie wouldn’t have liked that.

‘I’d have given away my brother – and my mum – to have been watching Ronaldo instead,’ groaned C.P.

‘You should have legged it,’ said Fifty.

‘I would have done,’ said Copper Pie, ‘but
he
didn’t want to.’

‘Because you had completely failed to explain the danger!’

Jonno was getting a bit stressy.

‘Stop arguing and get on with it.’ How many times was I going to have to hurry them up?

‘Don’t drop your knitting, Keener,’ said Copper Pie.

I stuck my tongue out. So did he.

‘Stop it, children,’ said Bee.

‘OK. There was this girl with really long hair – I think she’s the leader – and she started singing . . . about ginger biscuits.’

I let out a small snort. I knew exactly the song Jonno was talking about.

Get back in your biscuit tin, Ginger. Ginger.

Get back in your biscuit tin, Ginger Ginger Nut.

It’s
always
Copper Pie’s hair they pick on. And it’s his hair he’s
really
sensitive about.

‘I know they were getting at me, but didn’t you guess they’d have a go at you next? said Copper Pie.

‘I
was beginning
to realise those girls weren’t the sort that like skipping and playing dollies,’ said Jonno.

‘Finally! The penny drops.’

‘But I still wasn’t scared. I mean, there were some leaning against the walls, some using the bollards as stools and a load standing behind chatting. Not exactly an army ready for
action.’

‘What did you do?’ At last, something was going to happen.

Jonno looked at Copper Pie.

‘Jonno went right up to the girls . . . looking pretty cool,’ said Copper Pie, ‘but when he tried to step over the legs of one of them, she lifted her knee up
—’

‘And I was left balancing with my leg in the air —’

Copper Pie finished off the sentence. ‘Like a stork with too much hair.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jonno.

‘What did she say to you?’ said Copper Pie. ‘I can’t remember.’

‘“How’s tricks, Frizzy?”’

Fair point,
I thought. His hair is totally frizzy.

‘And she called you “cute”.’

‘She did,’ said Jonno, squirming.

‘And then they all started calling you names, like “Speccy”.’

‘And they called you “Ginger Puss”.’

‘I bet they miaowed too,’ I said. They’re not called the Alley Cats for nothing.

‘On the button, Keener,’ said Copper Pie. ‘They miaowed all right.’

‘I tried to get past them again but they all moved and made a wall. I had no idea what to do,’ said Jonno.

‘And then they started all their rubbish teasing . . .’

Copper Pie and Jonno used squeaky voices to act out the scene.

‘Are you late for something? Some cartoon that you like to watch after school? Or do you want to hurry and see your mummy?’

‘We haven’t seen you before, Frizzy. We’d remember you with that fluffy hair and those cool glasses. Are you Ginger’s new friend?’

‘Hey Ginger, where’s your girlfriend? Has she dumped you?’

‘We’ll find you a new girlfriend, won’t we girls? A nice redhead.’

‘And they kept shifting about to stop us barging through,’ said Copper Pie. ‘But I’d had enough, so I grabbed Jonno’s arm, put my head down and we drove through the
wall of Alley Cats like we were in a rugby scrum.’

‘Did it work?’

‘Well, we lived,’ said Copper Pie.

‘There were hands and feet everywhere but we kept moving,’ said Jonno. ‘They patted us on the head – no one’s done that to me since I was about two! – and
tried to trip us up, but Copper Pie wasn’t stopping so neither was I. No matter how many ballet pumps were in my way.’

‘I’d have ploughed through a brick wall if I’d had to.’

‘He would too,’ said Jonno.

What the Alley Cats do is torture. They don’t beat you up, they tease, like my big sister does. They’re crazy. No matter what you do, they embarrass you. They sing, and shout, and
dance and clap. Copper Pie would normally stand up for himself with his fists but you can’t do that to girls (and I can’t do it to anyone). Last time they said Bee was his girlfriend
and asked them if they’d kissed. They were both nearly sick.

For once, I was glad I’d had a lift home with Mum!

‘You got through, though – that’s the main thing,’ I said.

‘And they all lived happily ever after. The End,’ said Fifty.

‘Not quite,’ said Copper Pie. ‘Tell Keener what you said when we stopped running.’

‘“Remind me
never
to go that way again.”’

‘You missed a bit,’ said C.P. ‘The bit about me being right.’

‘You were right, Copper Pie. The alley’s a no-go zone, like you said.’

‘Is it the end
now
?’ I said. My writing hand was about to crumble and fall off like Charles Stratton’s ear.

Copper Pie and Jonno exchanged looks.

‘The end,’ they said. ‘Definitely.’

Except of course it wasn’t.

Tribe initiation

Bee threw her legs out of the hammock and stood up.

‘Tribers, I hate to say it, but this must be a sign. We need to make the alley safe, not just for us, but for all the kids from school who are scared to set foot on what is a piece of
public property. We need to go down the alley. We need to show them that Tribe isn’t scared.’

But we are scared,
I thought.

‘Wow! Some speech,’ said Fifty.

‘You might be right, Bee,’ said Jonno. ‘But once was enough. I’m not wild about the alley.’

‘Same,’ said Fifty.

‘Come on, guys. Why should a few big girls stop us from using a short cut home? It’s not right.’ Bee wasn’t going to give in without a fight.

‘Well,
I’m
not going down there ever again,’ I said.

‘Nor me,’ said Copper Pie.

‘I can’t believe you all,’ said Bee. ‘Sticks and stones and all that. The Cats wouldn’t actually hurt us – it’s just words. We’re in Year 6.
Shouldn’t we be tough enough to barge past a load of silly girls in silly shoes with pouty lips?’

Jonno moved his head from side to side as though he was weighing it up. ‘You’re right,’ he said.

‘As usual,’ said Bee.

‘But that doesn’t mean I want to go back.’

‘But you will?’

Jonno nodded.

‘What about you, Fifty?’

‘If
all
the Tribers agree . . . maybe.’

(
Fifty being brave? What’s happening?
)

‘Come on, Copper Pie. Surely you’re in?’ said Bee.

‘Nope. Not in.’

Phew!
No Copper Pie meant no Fifty and that meant no me.

Or it should have done, but Bee had other ideas. ‘Copper Pie, when you’re capped for England think how good it’ll look when someone digs up our time capsule and finds out about
all the amazing things you did when you were a boy. Making the alley safe for all the kids would sound great.’

Surely he wasn’t going to fall for that?

Copper Pie spends his life waiting to be discovered by the England trainer and told to leave school
immediately
and kick a ball every day instead. I could almost see the newspaper
headline in his eyes:
Goal-scoring genius Copper Pie revealed as schoolboy hero.