The Astounding Broccoli Boy

  ‘Too windy,’ said the commissioner. ‘We thought of a megaphone, but . . .’

  ‘That would stress the penguins too.’

  ‘. . . we could make ourselves heard, but we couldn’t hear him. I’ve sent for a kind of directional microphone, but it’ll take time. I can’t think what else to do. Pigeon post?’

  Then I remembered something. ‘He’s got a phone,’ I said.

  ‘A phone?!’ said the Prime Minister. ‘Do you know his number?’

  ‘Not off by heart, but it’s on his business cards.’

  ‘He has business cards?’

  ‘Yes. And Koko gave one to that lady.’ I pointed at Loud Julie. Loud Julie went bright red. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t keep that,’ she said. But as she said it I saw one of the other armed police pat his pockets. Of course. Koko had given business cards to everyone she could reach. The policeman pulled out the card. I took it. I said it was probably best if I called him. He’d feel happier talking to me. The Prime Minister rolled his eyes and handed me back his phone. So I rang Tommy-Lee from the Prime Minister’s phone.

  It was ringing. Roger from the RSPCA was watching Tommy-Lee through the binoculars. ‘He’s moving. He’s going to answer. The penguins are moving too.’

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Tommy-Lee? It’s me, Rory.’

  ‘Rory – you’ve got to help me.’ His voice was shivery. He sounded tired. Or maybe it was just a bad signal. Maybe that’s why they were putting a new mast up there. I moved around a bit to see if it was any better.

  ‘They want to help you. There’s police and animal rescue and the Prime Minister even.’ I didn’t mention that none of them had any idea how to help him.

  ‘You come and help me now, or I’ll come down and get you.’

  ‘That might be easier.’

  The line went quiet. The silence was terrible. I thought he’d fallen. I ran back on to the observation deck. The Prime Minister, the police and the man from the RSPCA were still looking up at the crane. The Prime Minister was saying, ‘Are jet packs real? Could we send someone up on a jet pack to bring him down?’ I knew then that they were never going to get Tommy-Lee down. I had to do it myself.

  I slid out of the room, dialled the number again and asked for directions. I didn’t really need directions. If someone is fifteen storeys higher up than you are, then the directions are obvious – just keep going up – using stairs, elevators, service ladders, whatever . . . but it was good to keep Tommy-Lee talking, and when I got to a metal door marked ‘Authorized Personnel Only. Hard Hat Area. Harnesses must be worn. Token must be lodged with foreman’ he remembered the code for the keypad. I typed it in. The door opened. Cold air punched me in the face. A white ladder went straight up in front of me into the clouds. I was at the foot of the crane. Top floor of the Shard. Ground floor of the Sky.

  Who Can Save Them Now?!

  Something that looked like a dead bat was dangling right in front of my face. A safety harness. Attached to a long orange cable that I hoped was attached to something else at the far end. I couldn’t be sure though because of the cloud. I strapped myself into the harness and started to climb. The metal rungs were freezing cold to touch. I almost slipped off on the first step. When I fell back though, the orange cord tightened and yanked me up a little – as though someone was pulling me up from the other end. I climbed on. As I climbed, the cord kept slackening and tightening. Sometimes I floated past two or three steps at a time. Sometimes I had to climb. After a while everything turned dull and the air was damp. I realized I was inside the cloud. I kept climbing and bouncing, floating and clambering.

  Everything turned bright again. I looked up. It was like something from that story about the magic beans. At the top of the ladder there was a house, with a door like the giant’s castle in the story. Of course. The crane driver’s cab! This was the ladder that the crane driver used every day to get to work. Just thinking about him made me feel safer. Climbing up here wasn’t an adventure for him. It was his walk to work. He probably had his sandwiches in his pocket. Maybe he had his headphones in. He probably had to do it in the rain, and the wind. Maybe it was still dark when he went up in the mornings. Maybe it was already dark when he came down at night. As I got higher, a great bird flew a lazy circle around the ladder, its wings barely moving. As it passed in front of me I saw its wide dark eye and its bright curved beak. It looked like an eagle or something. Maybe the crane driver throws it one of his sandwiches every morning on his way to work. Maybe the crane driver is friends with the eagle.

  Inside the cabin was everything a sky-high crane driver might need to make himself cosy. Newspaper. Kettle. A pair of binoculars and a chart about birds of prey. A pair of gloves. A bottle with a wide neck and a rubber stopper – just like the ones we had to wee in in hospital. So that’s how crane drivers go to the toilet. There were baby wipes and one of those very excellent plastic things that warms your hands when you squeeze it. I settled down in the chair, took out the phone and called Tommy-Lee.

  ‘Tommy-Lee, I’m here. I’m in the cabin. Can you see me? I’m waving.’ I was probably a bit too relaxed. ‘Come over. There’s biscuits.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Something terrible is happening to me. You’ve got to come and get me.’

  ‘But . . .’

  The tower crane is like a giant see-saw. Tommy-Lee was out at the far end. Behind me there was a kind of bridge to balance it all out. The cabin is right in the middle. But it’s lower than the arm. To get out along the arm you have to climb on to the roof of the cabin. I kept the harness on. The harness was attached to the cabin. If I fell I would just kind of bungee jump into the ladder or something. It wouldn’t be the best way to spend the afternoon, but it might stop me being pavement jam.

  The arm of the crane stretched out in front of me like a railway track. The buzzard (I knew now it was a buzzard because it was on the cab driver’s chart) swept past me like it was getting a good look at its dinner. Tommy-Lee was crouching at the far end. Far away. Too far away. I tried shouting to him, but the words blew back in my face.

  Just thinking about putting my foot on the arm of the crane made my brain light up like a Christmas tree. The first thing I saw in my mind was the road map and the sandwich box that we’d seen in the waiting room. They reminded me of my mum and dad.

  Of course!

  They were my mum and dad’s. Mum and Dad had been there the whole time. They just weren’t allowed to come and see us for medical reasons. Nurse Rock had lied to us. But then, what do you expect from a nemesis?!

  The medical reason being that we were sick.

  That was the second thing I saw. Really clearly.

  I was not astounding.

  Never had been.

  Falling off a twelve-storey building does not make you astounding. Opening doors in your sleep – so what? Turning green like the Hulk – it’s a virus.

  All along, we had been sick – not super.

  I’m not astounding.

  I’m the youngest and smallest in my year.

  There’s nothing special about me.

  And if there’s nothing special about me, then what’s the point of going to try and rescue Tommy-Lee? What can I do? Why should I do anything? What had Tommy-Lee ever done for me apart from push me off the bus and leave me lunchless?

  I could hear him now, yelling at me. ‘Come on! COME HERE! COME HERE RIGHT NOW! OR YOU’LL BE SORRY!’

  He was shouting at me just like he did at school. Only when he did it at school I used to be terrified. Today when he did it, I could hear that he was the one who was terrified.

  I knew I couldn’t leave him.

  Why?

  Why couldn’t I leave him?

  Because he was my friend.

  When did that happen? How did it happen? How did I end up friends with Tommy-Lee?

  Never mind. We were friends – that was the point. Maybe if we weren’t I could have just climbed back d
own to the cabin and sat back and enjoyed the view. But he was my friend, so I put one foot on the girder.

  Fear surged through my body like electricity. My fingers tingled.

  My heart banged.

  My brain went faster. Had there been anything in Don’t Be Scared, Be Prepared about walking out on a high-rise crane? Nope. If anyone was going to write that paragraph, it would have to be me.

  Fear felt exactly like a superpower.

  Maybe fear is a superpower.

  I put one foot on the metal strut. It felt so horrible that I put my other foot up there too. To keep it company. That felt worse so I took a step. And another. And another. Stopping felt more frightening than moving. I was scared to look back. Scared to look down. So I just kept looking forward. And moving forward. My brain was whispering to me, saying stuff like, ‘These metal struts are about the same width as our staircase back home. You can walk upstairs, so you can walk along this. What difference does height make?’

  Just the difference between life and death.

  Apart from that?

  Maybe I wasn’t astounding.

  But I was doing an astounding thing.

  Tommy-Lee was crouched down in a little ball, his hands clutching the girder under his feet. But as I got closer, I could see him uncurling. He let go of the girder. He started to stand up.

  The penguins were watching me too. As I got nearer they put their heads in the air, made a weird croaky sound, then came waddling straight for me. Maybe they thought I was going to attack Tommy-Lee. Maybe they were going to defend him by pushing me off. I couldn’t make myself smaller so I’d be less threatening, or bigger to look more threatening. I know you’re not supposed to look at a dog when it’s angry with you. So I looked away from the penguins.

  And where I looked was . . .

  . . . down.

  I thought that Time had stopped.

  Up ahead of me was the hoist – the thing for lifting things. Under my feet a big grubby rug of cloud with a hole in the middle. Through the hole I could see the river. London. All of it, like when you look down from a plane. And all of it was still. When you looked down from the hospital roof you could see things moving – cars, buses, trains, boats, people. But below me nothing was moving.

  I know now that I was just too high to see things moving. But just then I thought that Time had stopped.

  Completely.

  Even the buzzard seemed to be stuck in the air. Its shadow spread on the top of the cloud like a stain.

  I couldn’t move.

  Then Tommy-Lee called my name. I looked up. He was standing up, his hands straight down by his side like when he sleepwalked.

  ‘Come on, Tommy-Lee. Take a step towards me. I’m wearing a safety harness. See? If we’re together . . .’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Look at my hands.’ He held his hands up. They were pinky white. All except the fingertips. It was as though some invisible soap was washing the green off his hands. And his arms. And his face. My brain could nearly hear the thoughts chugging around in his brain. Well, one thought anyway. The thought was . . .

  If I’ve stopped being green, then I’ve stopped being astounding.

  ‘Tommy-Lee,’ I said, ‘don’t worry about it. It’s probably just the cold.’ It was really cold up there. ‘Everyone’s hands turn a different colour in the cold.’

  ‘Is my face still . . . ?’

  His ears and nose were still green. But his forehead wasn’t, or his cheeks or his chin. They were all back to the way they’d been when we were in school. I tried to say he was still a bit green, but he could see from my expression that it wasn’t true. He quickly grabbed the crane.

  ‘Now what am I going to do? When I came up here I thought I could do anything. Now I can’t do anything. I was green and now I’m ordinary. I’m going to die. And the penguins – they really trusted me and now they’re going to die too.’

  I thought about saying to him, ‘We never were astounding. It was all a mistake.’ But it didn’t seem like the right moment. Instead I said, ‘Tommy-Lee, I’m still green, aren’t I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Really green?’

  ‘Really green.’

  ‘So I’m still super, OK? I’m also wearing a safety harness. See? So if I do fall, we’ll be OK twice over. All you’ve got to do is take a few steps towards me.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘One step then. One step for now.’

  ‘Can’t.’

  ‘Tommy-Lee, you’ve got to. The harness is at full stretch. I’d have to undo it if I was going to come closer.’

  ‘OK. Just two steps.’

  ‘Take one for now. And another one in a minute.’ Tommy-Lee was holding on to the struts with his hands behind his back. Now he let go and took one step forward. ‘No hurry, Tommy-Lee.’

  ‘What do I do now?’

  I didn’t have a plan. I thought we might have to stay like this forever. But I had to say something. ‘I’m going to hold my hand out. All you have to do is reach it. Not from there though. Take another step nearer first.’

  ‘You’re not going to push me off?’

  ‘What? Why would I do that?’

  ‘I used to push you off the bus.’

  ‘This is not quite the same thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry I pushed you off the bus.’

  ‘I’ll push you off the bus when we’re back home.’

  ‘OK. That’s fair.’

  ‘Keep coming. You’re nearly there.’

  He took a step. Reached his hand towards me. I grabbed it.

  ‘Thanks, Rory.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘Thanks and I’m sorry.’ He squeezed my hand a bit harder. Like he really, really meant it.

  ‘I really, really mean it,’ he said. ‘Thanks, and sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, but don’t squeeze my hand so hard. It hurts.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He let go.

  He let go too quickly.

  His hand swung back behind him.

  He lost his balance.

  He fell.

  That’s when I discovered that I really could teleport.

  My eyes were scrunched up like a pair of old paper bags. When I opened them, Tommy-Lee’s face was in my face. I had my arms around him. I was in mid-air. But I wasn’t falling.

  I’d teleported. I’d grabbed him.

  We were dangling from the crane. I could hardly breathe. Something was tightening around my chest, squeezing the breath out of me. It was the harness. It was twisted around one of the metal struts. It was trying to reel me back in.

  I turned my head to catch my breath. I saw what was underneath us.

  ‘Tommy-Lee,’ I whispered, ‘I’m going to let go of you.’

  ‘Nooooo!!!! Don’t!’

  ‘It’s OK. You have to trust me.’

  ‘But I don’t trust you.’

  We were dangling right above the crane’s huge hoist. The bit where they put the stuff they wanted to lift. It was big – like a piece of floor in the sky. It was just a metre or so below us.

  ‘I’m going to let you go. You’re going to be all right,’ I said.

  I let go.

  But Tommy-Lee didn’t let go. He slipped a bit, then he grabbed me round the waist and squeezed so tight I could hardly breathe.

  ‘Tommy-Lee, let go. Please. Reach down with your toes. Feel.’ He let go. But grabbed again.

  My knees this time.

  Then he let go again and dropped on to the hoist. He landed standing up and really steady. Like a cat. Kick-boxing really teaches you to fall properly.

  ‘Hey, this is great!’ shouted Tommy-Lee.

  I wasn’t listening.

  The minute he had let go, the cable pulled me up again. I didn’t want to go up. I wanted to go down. Before I’d been just above the hoist. The hoist was all I could see. Now I was dangling three or four metres above it, and I could see tiny London. I didn’t want to see tiny London.

  The 200-per-cent b
rain had already made its decision.

  My hands were doing something I didn’t want to think about.

  They were snapping me out of my safety harness.

  I stared at the hoist. I tried not to think. I tried to leave it all to my hands.

  I dropped.

  I landed on top of Tommy-Lee. He fell but neatly. We lay there on our backs looking up at the struts and oily chains of the crane. Penguins plopped around us like ripe black fruit. I held my hand up in the air. It was still bright, broccoli green against the blue, blue sky. Tommy-Lee was still laughing his head off. ‘Thanks, mate,’ he said, and shoved me in the shoulder.

  ‘Any time,’ I said, and pushed him back. ‘If they can’t rescue you when you’re dangling from a crane three hundred metres above London, well, what are friends for?’

  ‘Ahhh.’ He shoved me again.

  Something was sticking in my bum. The Prime Minister’s phone was in my back pocket. ‘I could call,’ I said, browsing through his contacts, ‘the President of the USA and ask him to get them to lower it down.’

  ‘I’m not in any hurry,’ said Tommy-Lee, stretching out with his arms behind his head. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Not really.’

  The phone quacked like a duck being trodden on. I thought this was a pretty immature ringtone for a Prime Minister. The penguins croaked in reply.

  ‘It’s the Mayor of London.’ I declined the call. As soon as I did, the Home Secretary rang. Declined that. Then the Prime Minister’s mum. Declined that. I turned the phone off after that.

  I was worried the ringtone was stressing the penguins.

  The hoist jolted. One link of its chain clicked through the pulley. Then another and another. Down on the observation deck, they must have been watching our every move through their binoculars. Now they were lowering us down. It takes a long time to lower a hoist eighty-odd storeys. We watched the links of the chain pass through the pulleys one by one like the words in a story. High above us, a pair of helicopters were buzzing around like fat summer bees.

  ‘I’m not going to move,’ said Tommy-Lee, ‘until we’re on the ground.’

  ‘Me neither. I’m not even going to think about the police or the Prime Minister or the hospital or all the millions of people who probably want to put us in jail. I’m going to just lie here and forget about them all. This is probably what Spider-Man does when he wants a break. He probably swings up to somewhere no one can get him and enjoys the view.’ The view! What were we doing just looking up at the sky?! Sky looks the same wherever you are. But the city looks different from very high up. ‘Tommy-Lee,’ I said, ‘remember what Koko said. What’s the point of going all the way up if you don’t look down?’ I rolled on to my belly. Then I carefully shuffled to the edge and looked over. We were in the cloud. I couldn’t see a single thing. Then we came through the cloud, like coming through a curtain. Tiny London was completely still and silent.