I have just had the most interesting week of my life. Not many people can say they’ve spent the week hiding from someone who wants to kill them, can they? I thought schools were meant to be safe places, and principals were meant to be people you could trust. Wrong.
I haven’t made it to eight and a half years old without some survival instincts. For example, I can climb over the balcony of our first-floor council flat, and down to the ground, using only the drainpipe. That has come in handy when Dad tells me to go to my room and never come out again. I also have supersonic hearing. I can make my breathing quiet, and I can hear a pin drop at the opposite end of the flat. That has come in handy when I’ve needed to know if Dad is snoring, so that I can climb down the drainpipe without him noticing.
On Monday afternoon, when my Auntie Elle was called to the principal’s office, I needed my supersonic hearing. I was told to wait outside, so I knew it was serious. Usually when I’m in trouble, I have to go in and listen to all of the ‘you should have done this’s,’ and ‘you shouldn’t have done that’s’ and ‘if you do it again THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.’
This time, I sat outside while Auntie Elle went in, looking like she was the one in trouble. She is a bit afraid of Principal Grobin because she’s her boss. Auntie Elle is a Year One teacher at my school. I wish she was my teacher. She wouldn’t grass on me for things like my Year Three teacher does. She’d help me with the cover up, and then give me the lecture at home.
I sat as still as could be in the soft chairs outside Principal Grobin’s office. I made my breathing so slow and quiet that I might have been a boy with the lungs of a mouse. Mouse Lung Boy.
‘… as you can understand Elle, this can’t go on. Sam has had plenty of warnings about his language…’
Ah, flip, I thought. She’s on about the cussing again. I can’t flippin’ help it. My dad cusses all the time. He always says I learned to cuss before I learned to talk, and he’s probably right. I used ‘flip’ just now so as not to cause offence, but the thing is, I never try to cause offence. It just happens. It just rolls off my tongue, as they say. I don’t know why they say that. It’s a weird thing to say. No one sticks their tongue out so the words can just roll off when they talk, do they?
The latest cussing incident had been because my dad had forgotten to give me money to buy lunch at the canteen. When I realised at lunch time, all I said was, ‘For God’s sake, Old Man, what the ‘flip’ am I meant to have for lunch now?’ Of course, my teacher was right behind me. My supersonic hearing let me down that time. I didn’t hear her lanyard jingling over the growling of my stomach, I suppose. Anyway, she turned purple in the face and a vein popped out in her forehead, and the next thing I knew she was saying she’d have to have a word to Principal Grobin, because I’d had enough warnings, blah, blah, blah. I went to see Auntie Elle, and when I told her what had happened, she gave me half of her sandwich, and a good talking to. But that wasn’t the end of it.
‘There has to be consequences for Sam’s behaviour,’ said Principal Grobin.
‘Of course, but things aren’t easy for Sam at home. I’m sure he means to change his ways…’
Nice try Auntie Elle, but as Principal Grobin said last time, I can’t keep using that excuse.
‘He can’t keep using that excuse, Elle. He has already been suspended several times. If this continues, it will leave me with no other choice…’
The lady from the front of the office walked past right at that moment on her way to the photocopier, and in hindsight, I might have missed a crucial piece of information. What does hindsight mean, anyway? The sight of someone’s hind? Isn’t a hind a butt? Allow me to rephrase. As I looked at the butt of the past, disappearing into the distance, I realised I might have missed a crucial piece of information.
The next thing I heard from Principal Grobin’s mouth was, ‘expulsion.’
‘I understand,’ said Auntie Elle grimly. When I saw her face, it told the story. It was the face you’d see on someone coming out of a hospital room when the doctor had just said, ‘I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do.’
Well, I knew exactly what that meant, and there was no way I was going to let that happen to me. I couldn’t believe Auntie Elle just stood there and agreed to my expulsion. Some Auntie she is. I used to think she was great. When I was little, she used to buy me presents all the time, and played games with me, even army ones. Then she went to Australia for a couple of years, and I only saw her on the computer, or on Dad’s phone. She was still nice then. Always, ‘I can’t wait to see you, Sammy,’ and, ‘Wait until I come home, we will do all of the things.’
Lies. All of it. When Auntie Elle came back to England, all she did was make rule, after rule, after rule. Now I have to go to bed at 8pm, eat vegetables, go to school every day even if I don’t feel like it, and if I even so much as think about using my sling shot to fire rocks through the neighbours’ windows, she’s on to me like a flash. It’s like she reads my mind. She says all teachers can do it, and I believe her.
So that’s when the fight for my survival began. I’d heard about expulsions. That’s what those crawling insect sprays do to cockroaches. I wasn’t going to just roll over, belly up and wave my legs in the air. No way. If Mrs Grobin wanted me dead, I was going to go down fighting.
I knew I was wasting my breath going to Dad. He’d never believe me, for one. And for another, Dad has a pretty hard time just looking after himself. He wasn’t going to be able to help me to fend for my life. No, it was all down to me.
That Monday afternoon, I sat down in front of the television with a bowl of crisps and turned on the latest series of ‘Man Vs Wild’, while Auntie Elle went to Dad’s bedroom to tell him the news. Auntie Elle says I shouldn’t be watching Bear Grylls. She says it’s rated PG, and if I don’t have a grown up with me, I might see something I don’t understand, and it might traumatise me, so I usually only watch it when she’s not at our place. But this time, I thought she was going to be so busy for the next three hours telling Dad about all the stuff I’d done wrong that I might as well sneak a few episodes in. I couldn’t delay. I needed an upgrade of my survival skills, and fast. Pity that Bear never faced an old lady with a black bob, a big nose, a moustache and round spectacles. That would have helped me out with Principal Grobin.
I don’t know if it was three hours later that Auntie Elle came out of Dad’s room, but I quickly turned off Bear Grylls, and put on a cartoon. She didn’t even look though. She was wiping her eyes, and she rushed off through the front door as I heard Dad shout after her, ‘Flippin’ bossy teachers and their flippin’ rules. Lucky that bloke didn’t marry you or he’d have been nagged to death by now.’
Dad came out shortly afterwards, carrying his walking cane. He’s only thirty, but he needs to walk with a cane, because he hurt his back. ‘Sammy, what’s this I hear about you cussing at school, boy?’ he said to me.
What a hypocrite. I think that means someone who gets up you for something they do themself all the time. Dad has said it before about Auntie Elle. She told him to stop drinking beers once and he said, ‘What a flippin’ hypocrite.’ Auntie Elle loves to drink beers, but I have to say, she doesn’t drink so much that she falls asleep in a chair, like Dad does.
‘Sorry Dad, it slipped out because you forgot my money for the canteen.’
‘Did I?’ asked Dad. He looked a bit guilty, but then he put on his strict face and his gruff voice and said, ‘It’s got to stop, boy. You’re upsetting Elle, and when Elle’s upset, she upsets me.’ Then he went back to bed.
The next day at school, I put my plan into action. They used to say kids should be seen and not heard. Well, I was going to be neither seen, nor heard. The first thing I had to do was throw Auntie Elle off the scent. So, I made sure I put on my neatest uniform, and I slicked my hair back with hair gel, to make me look like a really good boy. I even wore the approved school socks with my shoes. I never do that. Auntie Elle was happy when she came to pick me up. She gave me a big smile, and a squeezy hug, and said, ‘I know it will be okay, Sammy. You just need to think before you speak, my love.’ She smelt so nice, like a bunch of flowers, and I was glad that she was smiling again. I suppose she is kind, even though she’s got too many rules.
As soon as we got through the school gates, and Auntie Elle gave me a kiss and went to her classroom, I went for the boys’ toilets to change. I pulled out my camouflage pants and t-shirt and put them on. I tied a bandana around my head and drew two stripes on each of my cheeks with camouflage paint. It wasn’t so much for disguise, as to help me get into the right frame of mind. If I was going to survive, I needed to think like a warrior, and to think like a warrior, I needed to feel like a warrior.
I made my way through the school grounds, keeping behind poles, and rubbish bins, until I made it to the sports shed. That was going to be my home for the rest of my school life. Or at least until Principal Grobin forgot about me and moved on to a new prey. I knew it would be unlocked. Mr Peters, the PE teacher, was always early. He always took out the equipment he needed for the day, and then took off to Auntie Elle’s classroom to chat her up before school. Then, he didn’t come back to the shed until he had to pack up in the afternoon. That’s what made the sports shed the perfect hiding spot. When the coast was clear, I snuck in, and went to the far back corner. From my backpack I pulled a bath towel and laid it down on the concrete floor of the shed. There I stayed, all day, until just before the home time bell, when I snuck back into the toilets, changed back into my uniform, cleaned my face, and met Auntie Elle at her classroom to go home.
As the week wore on, it got cold in that shed. I had a hoodie, and cargo pants, but it wasn’t enough. On Thursday, when the other students were in class, I slipped out and gathered the materials I needed for a fire, but despite having plenty of fuel, it wouldn’t light. I’d have to re-watch that episode. Bear made it look easy. It wasn’t.
By Thursday, I knew that Auntie Elle was on to me. She’d started to ask questions like, ‘What did you learn today, Sammy?’ and ‘Strange, I haven’t seen you in the playground when I’ve been on duty. Where have you been playing?’ I managed to answer those questions with carefully thought out lies, but at second break, disaster struck. From my spot in the corner, I saw Mr Peters come in. He was looking for footballs. He must have forgotten to get them out in the morning. The balls were in the opposite corner to where I was, and I thought I’d gotten away without being noticed, but as he turned to leave, with the bag of balls over his shoulder, he glanced my way. I noticed him freeze, and I saw a slight raise of his eyebrows, then he left.
He'd seen me for sure. This was bad. Not in the least because Mr Peters was in Auntie Elle’s pockets. Mr Peters fancied Auntie Elle, but he wasn’t having much luck. Auntie Elle wanted to marry a man she’d left behind in Australia. I don’t think she really wanted to come home. I think she came home because she was worried about Dad.
When Mr Peters left, I knew I had to follow him. I snuck out after him and, sure enough, he went straight for Auntie Elle’s classroom, and slipped through the door. The dirty, rotten snitch. I always thought Mr Peters was a cool teacher. Now I knew he was just like the others. Luckily for me, he left the door partially open. He didn’t know about my supersonic hearing. I made my way as close as I could and listened from just outside.
‘…in the back of the shed.’
‘Are you sure it was Sam?’
‘Yes, Elle. He was in disguise, but it was him.’
‘The cheeky git. I wondered why I hadn’t heard from his teacher yet this week.’ She sighed. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded kind of… tired. ‘How long does he think he’ll be able to keep this up for?’
How long would she keep it up if her life was at stake? I peeked inside, and Mr Peters had his arm around her shoulders. That wasn’t on. I took my sling shot out of my pocket and picked up a pretzel that someone must’ve dropped from their lunch. I took aim and fired. It hit Mr Peters in the back of the head. I only stayed long enough to hear him say, ‘What the-,’ and then I fled back to my corner of the shed.
There was only one thing for it. If Mr Peters was going to go to Principal Grobin and grass on me, I was going to need a new hiding spot, and another layer of defense. As quick as a flash, I packed up my towel, and gathered the other items I would need- a volleyball net and some skipping ropes. I wasn’t looking forward to settling in at my new accommodation, but there was no other option. It would have to be the cleaner’s storage room, next to the boys’ toilets.
By Friday morning, I was all set. The volleyball net was suspended above me, and all it would take was a slight tug on a skipping rope and it would come down on any predator who attempted expulsion on me. I must have made a misstep somewhere though- not covered my tracks properly, because it wasn’t even first break before I heard the urgent clip-clop of Principal Grobin’s high heels on the concrete path outside, and Auntie Elle’s voice pleading with her for mercy.
‘I’m sure there’s some misunderstanding,’ she was saying. ‘Perhaps he just… got confused… things aren’t easy for him at home you see.’
‘QUIET,’ said Principal Grobin. You can bet I was quiet, and so was Auntie Elle.
She prowled inside the cleaner’s room. I was hidden out of sight behind the carpet cleaners. As she edged closer, I bided my time, my heart leaping out of my chest, and then-
Well, you should have heard the language that came out of Principal Grobin’s mouth when I pulled on that skipping rope, and the volleyball net fell straight on top of her, entrapping her. My own father would have been shocked and appalled. She didn’t say ‘flip’. She said the real ‘f’ word, and a few others I’d never even heard before, but expect I might use in the future. And they say you don’t learn anything useful in school.
Once the commotion had died down, the thing that really surprised me was Auntie Elle.
‘I’m sure that if some understanding can be shown for language that might slip out from Sammy from time to time, then my brother will show some understanding towards this situation when Sammy tells him about it this afternoon, and he will withhold his complaint,’ she said. I could tell she was scared. She was wringing her hands behind her back as she said it. But it worked.
Remember I mentioned hindsight? It turns out that by ‘expulsion’, Principal Grobin didn’t mean she wanted me dead. She just meant she’d kick me out of the school. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have put up so much of a fight. I could’ve had freedom, if only I’d just gone to class and let a few more cuss words roll off my tongue. But instead, I ended up with a detention, and I’ve made a solemn vow to Auntie Elle that I’ll change my ways this time. And I will try because Auntie Elle is good as gold.
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3 comments
This is flippin' hilarious! I love the narrator's misunderstanding... rather typical of literal-minded kids. "I’d heard about expulsions. That’s what those crawling insect sprays do to cockroaches." Thanks for the chuckle!
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I enjoyed this funny story that also has a deeper undertone to consider. I have known kids like the main character when I was in school and I would not be surprised if this story is inspired by some real kids. Compassion and empathy is awakened in the reader because the main character's father's difficulties make homelife complex. The challenge of what to do in these instances is an issue that many people face these days with complicated homelives and kids acting out at school. Very well written with creativity. Well done!
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The Butt of the Past.
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