Why do you wear that she asked, her mouth full of sweets. I’m a mummy I replied. They wear bandages but I ran out so I had to— She shook her head. Not that she said, pointing at the toilet paper. That. Her fingers touched the Spider-Man t-shirt. I’m a superhero I said. I fight crime. She sighed and it smelled of cola bottles. Through the holes in the blanket I could see her shiny shiny eyes and they were brighter than all the stars in the sky. Why do you really wear it she said. She drew her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her kneecap. She was sucking a lollipop really slowly like she had all the time in the world to hear my story. I tried to speak, but nothing happened.
When we left London, Dad spent about an hour trying to push his wardrobe through the bedroom door. He turned it on its side. He tried it upside down. He tilted it one way and then the other but it just would not fit. Words like Mum and Affair and Dad and Drinking were just like that wardrobe – too big to get out. No matter what I did, I couldn’t fit them through the space between my teeth.
The lollipop was almost gone when I said I just like it, that’s all. To change the subject, I said Why do you wear that scarf thing on your head and she said Hijab and I said Who jab and she said That’s what it’s called. A hijab. I said the word over and over again. I liked the way it sounded. And then I wondered what Dad would say if he could see me sitting underneath a conker tree with a Muslim dressed like a ghost, whispering Muslim words in the darkness. And all of a sudden I knew exactly what he’d say and what’s more I could see him say it, with his face all screwed up, his eyes full of tears and the urn trembling in his hand.
I stood up. The sweets were making me sick. I’d only eaten a quarter of my bag but I dropped it onto Sunya’s lap. You have them I said. I’m going home. I walked down the road, tearing the bandages off my face and ripping the toilet paper off my body. Half of me never wanted to see Sunya again, but the bigger half wanted her to run after me and say What’s wrong. I got to a bend. If I walked five steps further, I’d disappear out of sight. I slowed right down and tried not to look back, but my neck wasn’t obeying my brain. Before I could stop it, my head had twisted right round and there was Sunya, hurrying after me.
Are you scared, Spider-Man she said. Superheroes shouldn’t run off like that. As soon as she was by my side, I started walking faster like I wanted to get away, which I did and didn’t all at the same time. I’m not scared I said. I’m late. Dad said I had to be home by eight. Sunya stuffed my bag back into my hands. You are the worst liar in the whole world she said. Want to trade your cola bottles for my chocolate mice.
Headlights swung around the corner. I recognised the car. Grabbing Sunya’s hand, I tried to pull her somewhere safe. Dad was slowing down. My pulse was speeding up. There were no buildings. No walls. Nowhere to hide. What’s wrong Sunya asked. I wanted to shout RUN but it was too late. Brakes squealed and the window whirred and the car stopped right by my side. Dad leaned out of the window and stared. Trick or treat I said, dropping Sunya’s hand. I held out my arms like a zombie and made my face all lifeless. Trick or treat trick or treat trick or treat I chanted, desperate to distract Dad. Sunya still had the material over her head and, if Dad didn’t look too closely, he might not guess a Muslim was hidden underneath the costume.
Who’s your friend he said, slurring his words, and Sunya replied before I could make up an English-sounding name. I’m Sunya she said. Dad actually smiled. Nice to meet you he said and his breath smelled of beer. Are you a friend of James’s from school. Sunya said We are in the same class and we sit next to each other and we share sweets and secrets. Dad looked surprised but pleased. I hope you get your work done too he teased and Sunya laughed and said Of course, Mr Matthews and I just stared and stared as Dad grinned at a Muslim and offered her a lift home.
We fastened our seatbelts. Mine pressed against my chest, making me hot. If Sunya’s parents were outside her house, or if the curtains were open, or if they popped out to say thank you, Dad would see their brown skin and go mental. He swerved in the road and I kept thinking about those drink-driving adverts on TV where everyone ends up dead and I felt bad that I’d let Sunya get in the car when Dad was obviously over the limit. But she just ate sweets and chatted away and I could hear the smile in her voice as if all her words had happy faces. She said she’d lived in the Lake District all her life and her dad was a doctor and her mum was a vet and she had one brother at high school and another brother at Oxford University. Clever family Dad said, sounding impressed. It’s the house on the right Sunya replied and we pulled up outside a big gate. Lights glowed behind curtains but there was no one on the driveway.
Thanks for the lift Sunya said as she hopped out of the car with the plastic bag swinging in her hand. All I could see were her dark dark fingers and I prayed harder than I’d ever prayed in my life that Dad wouldn’t notice. But he just smiled and said Any time, love and Sunya ran off, the white blanket blowing in the wind.
Dad turned around and drove away from Sunya’s house. I looked out of the back window and watched Sunya disappear through the gate. Dad glanced at me through the rear view mirror. Is she your girlfriend. I blushed and said No and Dad laughed and said You could do a lot worse, son. Sonya seems like a nice girl. And all of a sudden I wanted to shout HER NAME’S SUNYA AND SHE’S A MUSLIM, just to see what he would say. ’Cos I knew full well that if Dad had seen Sunya covered by a hijab instead of a blanket, he wouldn’t have thought she was a nice girl at all.
THIS MORNING WE did Library Work and I was looking at a book about The Victorians, which said that old fashioned ladies stayed at home to care for their children and didn’t have jobs and never left their husbands ’cos divorce was hard to get and too expensive. And I was just thinking how I wished I lived in The Victorian Times when I felt a hand on my back. I was convinced it was Daniel so I shouted Mrs Farmer, even though the sign says SSSH It’s A Library. And she said What’s the matter and I said He’s digging his fingers into my shoulder blade. The Headmaster cleared his throat and pushed me into the corridor as Mrs Farmer muttered You must learn to respect your elders, young man. The Headmaster stared down at me and I could see up his nostrils and I was just wondering if it was difficult to breathe through all the nose hair when he said What are you doing tomorrow afternoon. I said Nothing and he said Well, now you are. There’s a space on the football team. Craig Jackson’s injured.
Jas said she wouldn’t miss it for anything. She reckons I’ll score the winning goal. My horoscope’s dead positive this week, and anyway she says my boots are enchanted so they’ll make me as good as Wayne Rooney. I asked Dad if he was going to come and he burped. I don’t know if that means yes or no.
The football trial was over a month ago. I tried really hard but I hardly got the ball. I played on the left wing and then up front and I didn’t do much but I thought I’d done enough. Hundreds of butterflies kept me awake the night before the team was announced. And in the morning every one of those butterflies felt as if they’d had ten energetic babies. The Headmaster said the team would be put up on the notice board outside his office at playtime, which meant I had two whole lessons to get through before I found out. In English we were writing poems called Our Brilliant Family. The only rhyme I could think of was Burn and Urn and, as Mrs Farmer thought Rose was alive, I couldn’t even use it. In Maths we were doing fractions and I am normally good at them but the butterflies had spread into my brain making my thoughts all fluttery.
Mrs Farmer said Put on your coats before you go out to play and Daniel and Ryan ran into the playground without even checking the list. They knew they’d be on the team ’cos they were the only people in year five to get picked last season. I didn’t want to look as though I was looking so I went to the library and got out the first book on the shelf, without seeing what it was. My eyes were fixed on the piece of paper on the notice board. Eleven names were written on it, three subs underneath. As I walked nearer, I whistled the first song that came into my head, which was The Courage To F
ly ’cos Dad had been playing it non-stop that weekend on the way to St. Bees.
The letters were squiggles, impossible to read. I took a step closer. The capitals at the start of names became clear. There were two Js. I shuffled forward, my lips still pushed out, even though I’d stopped whistling. I read the seventh name on the list. James.
James. James Mabbot. A year five. I wasn’t even sub.
I ran out into the playground. I kicked open the door and charged down the steps and raced around the corner and crashed into Sunya. My library book flew into the air and then skidded across the gravel. She picked it up and looked at the title. In big black letters it said The Miracle of Me: A Book about Eggs, Sperm, Birth and Babies. She started to giggle. I snatched it out of her hands.
That night, I read all about the miracle of me as I sat on the windowsill with Roger curled up by my feet. The book went on and on about how I was special and unique ’cos there was only a one in a million trillion chance that I’d turned out to be me. If that one sperm of Dad’s hadn’t met that one egg of Mum’s right at that one moment in time, then I would have been someone different. That didn’t sound like a miracle. That sounded like bad luck.
You won’t look stupid Sunya said when she found me outside the changing room, too scared to go in. You’re Spider-Man. I wanted to say that Spider-Man didn’t play sport but she was trying to be nice so I kept my mouth shut. And you have a magic ring. I looked at the Blu-Tack wrapped around my middle finger and I touched the white stone. It made me feel a bit better. You’ll be brilliant Sunya smiled. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Daniel was captain before he got suspended for three days. He looked jealous as the Headmaster discussed tactics with Ryan. Ryan was nodding a lot, his arms folded seriously, a ball at his feet like he’d been born with it attached to his toes. Daniel was sitting down, face furious, right leg jiggling. When he saw me, he shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe I’d been allowed in the changing room, never mind the team. I ignored him and pulled my shorts out of my P.E. bag.
In the middle of the floor, there was a pile of shirts and I chose a long-sleeved one to cover my Spider-Man top. The Headmaster told us to make a circle and two boys put their arms around me and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. He said This is the most important game of the season and everyone was silent. No one was breathing. We all stared at the Headmaster as he spoke. If we beat Grasmere today then we’ll be top of the league and I looked at the players and my heart ached with how much I wanted to win. He said Some of our first team players are missing, but we’ll just do our best with the subs that we’ve got and all of a sudden I found the floor dead interesting. I stared at it as the Headmaster said something else I can’t remember.
Mums and dads and grandparents were standing at the side of the pitch. Among all the brown and black and ginger heads was a pink one and a green one and one covered by a yellow hijab. I tried to look like I knew what I was doing and did three lunges and ten star jumps while we waited for the other team to arrive. I ran up and down the left side of the pitch and pretended to dribble, even though I didn’t have a ball.
Grasmere arrived at last. The referee said Captains forward and Ryan stepped up and Daniel went red with envy. Ryan said Heads and the ref said No, it’s tails so the other team won the kick-off. And then the whistle blew and I was playing my first ever match not as keeper.
The first three times I got the ball I was tackled. The boy marking me looked about thirteen and he even had hair on his top lip and a lump in his throat that should have been called an Adam’s melon rather than an apple. He was strong and tough and smelled of deodorant like a man. After five minutes, I had mud all over my legs and my kneecap was killing from where I’d been kicked and my feet were tingling in my tight boots, but I had never felt happier. My defender was big but he was slow and I could run past him quite easily.
I tried harder than I’d ever tried at anything and I kept hoping that Jas and Leo and Sunya thought I was good. I kept wondering if Dad was in the crowd and if he was impressed. Every time I got the ball, a commentator’s voice boomed in my head. A brilliant pass into the box by Jamie Matthews and Matthews runs around one defender, then another, and another and New signing Matthews has had a great first half.
After forty five minutes we were one-nil down. Our keeper had let in an own goal. Daniel was saying something about him being a sissy who can’t play football to save his life and Ryan was laughing but I didn’t join in. I know what it feels like to be the keeper of a losing team. We had slices of orange and they made my hands sticky but they were delicious and then it was time for the second half.
We had loads of chances but couldn’t get the ball in the net. Daniel hit the post. Ryan hit the crossbar with a header from my corner. Panic felt like a balloon that kept getting bigger and bigger in my tummy as time ran out. And then a boy called Fraser went down in the box and the ref said Penalty and Daniel was going to take it but Ryan said No, I will. He got it in the top right corner. He ran over to the fans with his hands above his head and everyone followed. By the time I got there, the celebration had stopped and I had to sprint all the way back to the left side of the pitch before Grasmere kicked off again.
I had no energy left but somehow I kept going. Even though my feet ached, I didn’t give up, not even for a second. The Headmaster was pacing up and down the side of the pitch getting his shiny shoes all muddy, and he kept shouting things I couldn’t hear. There was too much blood in my head and I had that sound you get when you press a shell to your ear. The ref checked the stopwatch and I knew there was just one minute until the final whistle and all of a sudden I had the ball and I ran past my defender. I was on the edge of the penalty box and I still had the ball and I dribbled forward and I still had the ball and there was only the keeper left. The commentator’s voice said Jamie Matthews has a chance to win the match for his team and I thought about Mum and Dad and Jas and Sunya and I kicked the ball as hard as I could with my left foot.
Everything happened in slow motion. The keeper jumped. His feet left the ground. His arms stretched. The net swung. The crowd’s hands flew into the air. The ball had gone in.
The ball had gone in. I stared at the goal and I didn’t blink and I didn’t move in case it was all just a dream and I was about to wake up. The shell noise disappeared and I could hear shouts and claps and cheers, and the best thing was they were all for me. For some reason I thought of that book I got out of the library by mistake, and I felt special and unique, not quite like a miracle, but not that far off either. Hundreds of hands dragged me down to the ground. All the players dived on top of me and, even though my face was squashed in the mud and I was getting wet ’cos the ground was soggy, I didn’t mind one bit. And I didn’t want to be anywhere else in the entire world than right there, hardly able to breathe and crushed on the school pitch by ten screaming players.
Nine screaming players. Daniel hadn’t come over to celebrate. I didn’t realise until I got to my feet and the ref blew the whistle. Daniel was standing alone in the middle of the pitch and he didn’t even look happy that we’d won.
Sunya was chanting my name and she kissed the ring on her finger. I looked all around for Dad and then kissed mine too. She waved and ran off and the balloon in my tummy was bigger than ever but it felt good, like an armband or a lilo or something else that holds you up in water. My shoulders got wider and my chest got bigger and for the first time ever, my Spider-Man top seemed to fit.
All the mums and dads walked over to their boys and for a millisecond I didn’t know what to do. I was still smiling but my cheeks suddenly ached and my lips felt cracked and my tongue was too dry. But I kept my smile in place ’cos I didn’t want anything, not even the fact that Dad’s burp had meant no, to ruin that moment. Jas and Leo were snogging but they broke apart and waved so I sprinted over. Jas went on and on about how I was the hero, even better than Wayne Rooney, and Leo shook my hand again and this time I knew exactly
what to do. He said Not a bad goal for a fish and I said Better than a hedgehog could do and he laughed properly, not in that fake grown-up way, and it glittered silver ’cos of the studs in his tongue and lips.
Other families stared at Jas’s pink hair and Leo’s green spikes and their black black clothes and white white faces. I stared right back until they turned away, and I felt fierce and brave like I’d even be able to fight The Green Goblin from Spider-Man if he had run onto the pitch at that moment. Jas said See you at home and Leo said Catch you later, squirt and then I was alone and I opened my eyes as wide as they would go so I could take in every single detail of my best day ever. I saw the mud on my knees, and the nets blowing in the wind, and the defender that I beat walking off with sagging shoulders, all ’cos of me. I smiled secretly at the lion in the sky, and I swear I heard it roar.
The Headmaster said Well played and squeezed my shoulder and Fantastic goal and rubbed my hair. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, I walked into the changing rooms and all the boys but Daniel smiled and said Great strike and Brilliant game and Didn’t know you had such a good left foot. The keeper even shouted Jamie Matthews, Man Of The Match ’cos my goal had made everyone forget his mistake and no one was calling him Sissy Hands any more. A few people agreed but Daniel snorted and stormed out of the changing rooms. I thought he was just going home, but when his fist hit my face, I realised I was wrong.