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Chapter 7

Hero

Images of the day buzzed over and over in Hero’s mind like shocks controlled by torturers who wouldn’t let up until he told them what they wanted to hear.

It’s no use. He sat up in bed, staring at the shard of moonlight coming in through the crack between the curtains. I’ll just read for a bit. That usually sends me to sleep.

He reached to his right, fumbling like a blind man looking for his cane. He nearly knocked his alarm clock to the floor, catching it at the last second. There. He switched on the lamp and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, planting them firmly on the plush white carpet. His bare skin prickled in the cool air as he levered himself out of bed, reached into his schoolbag, and pulled out Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Now, where was I? Ah yes, Room 101.

A light knock at the door echoed in the silence of the night. He crept towards the door like a saboteur on a mission.

‘You okay, bruv?’ James whispered.

‘Yeah, fine, just can’t sleep.’

‘Wanna talk?’

‘I prefer to whisper,’ he said with a grin. ‘Come in.’

James wore the melancholy smile of a victorious soldier coming off the battlefield. He patted Hero on the shoulder and sat down at the computer desk. ‘It’s good to see you happy again, bruv.’

Hero closed the door and perched on the edge of the bed.

‘So what’s keeping you up?’ asked James.

‘Just restless, I guess. Can’t stop thinking about earlier.’ He glanced down at his hands. ‘What happened back there today? To those guys, I mean.’

‘Listen, bruv, there’re some very bad people in this world. They never stop, until they’re stopped.’

Hero smirked. ‘Like the Terminator?’

‘Worse, mate, because these people really exist—and they’re everywhere. You’ll understand one day.’

Hero’s head snapped up, and he regarded James. He was serious.

I have to ask.

‘But was it you? Did you hurt them?’

James blinked silently.

Please don’t be angry. ‘D-did you kill them?’

‘They killed each other.’

Hero let out a gust of breath. I knew it. He is a good person. He could never have killed anybody.

James picked at a cuticle. ‘Maybe I helped them get to where they needed to be, but I didn’t lay a finger on them.’

Or could he? Why’s he always so cryptic? ‘But still, they died. I can’t get it out of my head. I feel really bad about that.’

‘Bruv, being bullied is not your fault. Don’t keep blaming yourself. Those dickheads got what was coming to them.’

Hero reflexively smoothed his Luke Skywalker duvet cover with one hand. ‘What does Dad think of all this?’

‘He thinks the whole situation could’ve been avoided. He doesn’t understand—and he should.’

Whatever. Dads never really remember what it’s like, do they? ‘Do you think they’ll leave me alone now?’

James raised his eyebrow.

Hero rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean the ones today, James, obviously. I mean Martin and his friends.’

‘They will.’

He wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe it was all under control, just like James said. Just like James always made it so. ‘You know, you really were amazing today. And the other day. I never really said thank you, but thank you.’

‘Cheers, bruv. But as I said, I’m sure you’d do the same for me.’

‘But would I, mate?’

‘I’m sure you would, if you could.’

Was Fi right? Could I follow in his footsteps? Could I make people leave me alone like James could? ‘How come you’re so calm all the time?’

‘I’ve told you before—because I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes.’

More word games. Always playing at something. ‘Yeah, yeah, you always say that. What does it even mean?’

‘Sometimes I wish you knew. But maybe that’s not your path.’

Hero snorted. ‘Ooh, Master Yoda, your path it is.’

They stifled their laughter so as not to wake Dad. Hero jiggled his leg, full of nervous energy. I’m gonna ask him.

‘James? You know how you train every day?’

‘Nyeees . . .’

‘Would it be okay if . . . if I came with you? To see? Maybe to, you know . . .?’

James’s face lit up. ‘Okay? It’s more than okay. Ah, bruv, this is gonna be great. You and me. Team Turner.’

The door opened. ‘Boys?’ Dad peered around the corner as if he’d just caught them with a couple of girls or having a party. He seemed disappointed when he realised they were just talking. ‘What are you doing out of bed?’

‘Sorry, Dad, couldn’t sleep,’ James replied. ‘It’s been a difficult couple of days. A difficult couple of months, actually.’

Dad’s expression changed. He looked down at the floor. ‘Oh, boys. Come here.’ He opened his arms, and the boys came into his embrace. ‘You mustn’t blame your mum. She’d be here if she could.’

Would she? Then, where was she? And why wasn’t she here now?

Hero hung on a little longer than James, trying to choke back the snooker ball of sadness in his throat. But it was no good. He couldn’t bottle up his tears for Mum any longer. As he let the floodgates open, he felt James reach over his head and put a hand on Dad’s shoulder in the way that male family members do when one of the pride is hurt.

And they all pulled together.

‘Hey, bruv. Are you ready?’

Hero nodded nervously. ‘I think so.’

‘Excited?’

He nodded again.

James set a brisk pace to the gym. They’d been walking about ten minutes when James stopped cold. ‘Hold up, bruv.’

Hero frowned.

‘Don’t panic, but we’re being followed.’

Those guys are never going to leave us alone. Hero’s stomach tightened into the knot, spraying acid into his throat.

‘Don’t worry, bruv, it’s just your girlfriend, Fi.’ He slapped Hero’s shoulder. ‘Very slowly, look out of the corner of your eye. Don’t make it obvious.’

Hero did as he was commanded and carefully studied the scenery behind them without moving his head. James pretended to straighten Hero’s clothes to make their situation appear more natural.

‘You see? Over there, right by the hedge on that corner.’ James nodded imperceptibly.

There she was, doing a good job of hiding but not good enough. He could clearly see her peering out every so often.

‘Good to know that someone loves you, eh, bruv?’

Hero grinned, trying desperately not to burst into nervous laughter.

‘We’re gonna have to do something about this. Here, hold my hand.’ James hurried around the next corner into an alleyway, Hero in tow. ‘Follow me.’

They finished the fifteen-minute journey to the gym in eerie silence. It seemed as if everything had died yet somehow was still alive. Must be more nervous than I thought.

James let go of Hero’s hand outside the door to the gym and looked up and down the street. ‘Good. We lost her.’ He ducked inside.

Hero followed him into a large martial arts hall with mats surrounded by a wooden walkway. In the centre of the mat stood a tall African American man with white hair and a greying beard. Nobody else was in the gym.

James slipped off his shoes. Hero followed suit.

‘This is the master,’ James said, tugging Hero onto the mat.

Hero was finding it hard to breathe, his whole body yearning to bounce in time to his heartbeat. Everything around him glowed with perfect clarity like polished crystal. His grin was insuppressible.

‘Hello, James,’ the master replied.

Hero grinned. ‘The master—what, like on Doctor Who? Isn’t he, you know, really evil?’

James gave him a little shove. ‘Don’t be cheeky, bruv.’

The master waved James away. ‘It’s okay.’ He turned to Hero with a smile as slow and warm as the tones of his accent from the American Deep South. ‘That’s very quick, son, and I’m glad you asked. You should always ask about someone’s intentions, especially if they’re going to be your teacher. There definitely are masters out there who are like the guy in Doctor Who, but I’m not one of them. You can think of me as the Light Master.’

‘The Light Master?’

‘Well, I used to be called a Master of the Light, but it’s too . . .’

‘Poncey?’ Hero sniggered.

‘Oi, bruv, cut it out,’ James snapped.

‘James, it’s all right. It’s understandable that your brother’s a little nervous. I was going to say too flamboyant or grandiose, but poncey will do.’ He squinted at Hero. ‘I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.’

‘Sorry,’ said James. ‘This is Hero, my brother I told you about.’

‘Ah, Hero.’

The stupid nickname was a punch in the stomach. He’d been excited all day, only to be greeted like this. ‘I’m not a hero.’

‘I’ve been waiting a while to meet you,’ said the master. ‘James tells me you stood up to four big kids beating on you. Sounds heroic to me—although looking at you, perhaps “stupid” might be a better word?’

Hero startled. ‘Eh?’

‘Don’t worry, son. We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again, okay?’

‘Er, okay.’ He looked the master up and down: scruffy black T-shirt, faded blue sweatpants. He was just . . . some guy. ‘So what makes you a master?’

‘I’m old.’

Was this guy for real? He glanced at James.

‘Some people think I’m also quite good. But it’s mostly that I’m old.’

‘He’s the best martial artist I’ve ever seen,’ James added.

Hero shrugged and looked around the empty room. ‘So where is everybody?’

‘Interesting,’ the master responded. ‘Very few people notice that. Actually, the others are meditating.’ He pointed towards the closed door on the left. ‘I imagine all of this is quite scary.’

Hero smiled sheepishly. ‘A bit.’

‘I understand, son. I remember my first day in a training school like this. Didn’t know what to expect, worried I might get hurt, didn’t know what I was doing. Sound familiar?’

He nodded.

‘Well, let’s start off with something that you are good at. Tell me, do you and James play any games with each other? Anything physical and fun? Do you boys wrestle around in front of the sofa?’

Hero and James exchanged a smile.

Hero took a step back. ‘No, no, it’s embarrassing.’

‘There’re no silly games here,’ the master said reassuringly.

He took a deep breath. ‘Well, James and I play a game called Touch My Chin that—oh, it’s too embarrassing.’

James pointed theatrically at Hero and laughed. ‘It’s a great game. You’re just embarrassed ’cos you never win.’

The Light Master smiled. ‘And what does Touch My Chin involve?’

‘Simple, really,’ Hero said. ‘You just have to touch the other player’s chin to score a point. Naturally, you also need to defend yourself against being touched.’

‘And don’t forget the fly-by,’ James said.

‘The fly-by?’ the master asked.

‘You can deliberately not touch the other player’s chin when you have a clear shot and instead do a fly-by. Then you score ten points—’

‘—for nobility,’ Hero and James chorused.

The master chuckled and shook his head. ‘Okay, James, Hero.’ The smile faded from his face, and he backed away towards the edge of the mat. ‘Show me.’

Hero took up a position opposite James in the centre of the mat.

‘One arm or two?’ James asked.

‘One,’ Hero answered flatly.

‘Left or right?’

‘Right.’

‘Okay.’

They positioned themselves with their right arms crossed like swords in a fencing match.

‘En garde,’ they cried simultaneously.

And then they were lost in the game. Occasionally, one of Hero’s thrusts would slip past James’s parry, but James would quickly move his head out of the way to prevent a touch.

‘That was a close one, buddy,’ James said. ‘You’re getting better at this.’

James blocked a strong attempt from Hero, then jumped into the air, rotating three hundred and sixty degrees to give himself a clear shot at Hero’s chin. He deliberately swiped past it instead.

‘Fly-by!’ He landed behind Hero, raising his arms as if saluting an invisible crowd. ‘For nobility.’

‘For nobility.’ Hero turned to the Light Master and sighed. ‘You see? I told you I’m not a hero.’

‘You have raw talent, son,’ the Light Master said encouragingly. ‘You’re the fastest natural I’ve seen.’

Hero wiped a trickle of sweat from one cheek. ‘Clearly, not fast enough. I only lasted ten seconds.’

‘Almost everybody I know who has fought your brother lasts about two or three seconds at most.’

Hero glared at James accusingly. ‘You play Touch My Chin here?’

The master chuckled. ‘We do a different type of fighting here. But I do find it interesting that your game is very like sword fighting. Anyway, Hero, you’re sweating. I guess that was quite a workout?’

He swiped his forehead with the back of his arm. ‘It always is whenever I play with James.’

‘Shall we get a drink? Tea? Coffee?’

‘I’d prefer a hot chocolate.’

‘I’d love a coffee,’ James chimed in.

‘Just like Dad,’ Hero said mockingly.

James scowled.

The master led them out of the gym and across the road to a busy coffee shop. The smooth, almost sweet smell of freshly ground coffee set his nose and brain dancing. The place was packed, mostly with teenagers leaning back on the mahogany chairs, playing with their phones while chattering over the whooshes of steam from the milk foamer. Others focused on their laptops, doing their most important work. Luckily there were a couple of open spots left.

‘Take a seat.’ The master gestured towards a vacant table. ‘I’ll get the drinks.’

The boys squeezed in next to a trio of ladies excitedly talking about a friend who was getting married.

The master brought their drinks back on a tray. Hero couldn’t wait; it had been a while since he’d had hot chocolate, and this had whipped cream on top. As the Light Master reached to hand James his coffee, the steaming cup slipped and tumbled towards the lady sitting next to them. She shrieked and jerked back in anti­cipation of being scalded.

And then Hero was holding the cup by its rim. Not a drop had spilled.

‘It’s okay,’ he announced. ‘I’ve got it.’

The woman gasped and lifted up her hands, unscathed. ‘Did you see that? Unbelievable.’ She turned to everybody in the shop. A few of the other customers started to clap.

Hero shrugged. ‘Anyone can do that.’

‘I’ve never seen anyone do that before.’ She turned to the master with a frown. ‘And sir, could you be more careful? If it wasn’t for the young man here, that would’ve gone all over me.’

‘Sorry, ma’am. Getting a little clumsy in my old age.’ He turned back to the boys. ‘We’d better leave.’

They picked up their drinks and headed back to the gym.

‘That’s not the first time that’s happened, is it?’ the master asked Hero as James held the door. ‘You saved your dad’s coffee, right?’

Hero glanced at James. ‘You told him about that?’

The master lay a warm hand on Hero’s arm. ‘That’s why I set up another accident just now. I had to check. I had to see it for myself.’

Hero felt pinned beneath that light touch.

‘When you saved your dad’s coffee, that was when your brother knew you had a talent, the same one he has.’

‘What talent? James? What’s going on?’

James nodded as if to say ‘just listen’.

Hero wilted. Was he different? Was it obvious? How many other people knew? He didn’t want to be different; he just wanted to be like everyone else. But ‘a talent’—something strong? Maybe he could defend himself at last.

The master drew back his hand. ‘If I told you that I could teach you to beat your brother at Touch My Chin and defend yourself against those bullies, would you be interested?’

Hero nodded. ‘That’s why I’m here. Well, I’m not so bothered about Touch My Chin, but I do want to be able to defend myself.’

‘What you have is natural ability,’ the Light Master said. ‘It’s linked to your emotional state. That’s why you’re able to catch that cup without thinking, but you weren’t able to outrun those kids. To do it all the time, when you want to, you need to come and train here with us every day.’

Hero couldn’t hide his grin. ‘Okay.’ He turned to James to ask when he—

James was looking at him with a strangely sober expression. And so was the Light Master, for that matter. Hero blinked.

‘Listen to me,’ the master said. ‘This is a big commitment that will last five years. That’s a long time for a young man your age. Are you sure you can do that?’

If James could do it . . . He nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘We might have a problem, though, master,’ James said, one hand thoughtfully on his chin.

‘Which is?’

‘There’s a girl at school. She’s obsessed with Hero. She was following us this evening.’

Hero shifted uneasily, glaring at James. What business was this of anybody’s?

‘Ah, that is a problem,’ the master said. ‘I’m sorry, Hero, but you can’t train while your attention is on things like girlfriends. You can’t have a girlfriend.’

Hero looked from the master to James and back again. His brother had chosen not to have a girlfriend? Seriously? ‘Why not? What is this, a cult?’

‘Not a cult, son, but the training we do here is very dangerous. And because it’s linked to your emotions, you mustn’t have close ties with anyone until you’ve mastered it. Otherwise, you could hurt them, maybe even kill them.’

Hero studied the mat as he absorbed the implications of what he was hearing. He looked up at James. ‘I really like her.’

James raised both hands and let them drop again to his sides. ‘Sorry, bruv. You can’t—not and be one of us. You need to drop her.’

He stood rooted to the spot, the last droplets of sweat evaporating from his red face. He looked back at the master. ‘How long?’

‘That depends on you, son. But in all likelihood, about two to three years.’

He shook his head again. ‘I really like her.’

James squeezed his arm gently. ‘I know, bruv. And I’m sorry, I really am. I wish it were different. But there’s no choice on this.’

‘How am I going to do this?’ He looked at James again.

‘Don’t worry, bruv, we’ll sort it all out together.’

‘This part is very important,’ the master said. ‘You mustn’t tell anyone about this training. Only you and other invitees can come here. No one may come who’s not invited.’

Hero frowned.

James leaned closer. ‘Bruv, what he means is you can’t tell her why. In fact, you can’t talk to her again at all.’

The master nodded in agreement.

Hero’s face burned as he thought through all the different scenarios. He felt as if the ground were crumbling beneath his feet.

‘Any questions, son?’ the master asked.

Hero shook his head, still dumbstruck. Still confused. He stood motionless, a shadow of the person he’d been just minutes before. ‘Actually, yes. Just one. What is this talent you’re talking about?’

The Light Master smiled. ‘All in good time, Hero, all in good time. That’s it for today. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.’

Hero nodded, left speechless by the entire proposition. He followed James home in silence. What was his talent? He just couldn’t understand what the Light Master might be talking about. At least James respected his need to ponder the future. He’d figure it out.

Eventually.

‘Thanks for taking me today, James.’ Hero plodded up the stairs to their bedrooms behind James.

‘It’s cool, bruv. Did you enjoy it?’

‘I really like the master. There’s something about him. I don’t know.’

‘He’s a good guy.’

They stopped at the top of the stairs.

‘I love you, James. You know that, right?’

‘Don’t be a sap, mate.’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘And I’m just saying don’t be a sap.’

They went into their own rooms.

‘I love you too,’ James whispered across the hall.

‘I heard that!’ Hero cried, sticking his head back into the hall.

James poked his head out of his room. ‘What? You’ve got bloody bat ears, mate.’

‘Don’t be a sap, mate.’

‘What was that?’ James swaggered over to Hero’s room.

‘You’re being a sap, mate.’

‘I see. Well, I disagree—and you know what this means?’

Hero closed his eyes wearily. He loved his brother, sure, but he was worn out after all this business of the Light Master and giving up Fi. ‘Nooo . . .’

‘Oh yes.’ James pointed at Hero’s chin, wibbling his finger.

‘No, no, nooo.’

‘I’m touching your chin, buddy,’ James said gleefully.

‘You’ve touched my chin once today already.’

‘But I haven’t, though, have I? I took the noble path, remember?’ He strode towards Hero. ‘No need for nobility now, I think.’

Hero leapt for the far side of the bed, but James wrestled him to the mattress.

‘Touch, touch, touch,’ James exclaimed, repeatedly poking Hero’s chin. He released Hero from under his weight. ‘Okay, bruv, I’ve gotta get on.’

Hero uncrumpled himself from the mattress. ‘I’m gonna get you one day.’

‘Yeah, sure you will, bruv. Sure you will.’