Читать книгу The Infinite - Patience Agbabi - Страница 11

Chapter 04:00

OOPS

It’s Thursday. I’m not going to school today. I’m tongue- tied.

Tongue-tied’s not the same as not talking. Tongue-tied feels like someone’s tied up your tongue so you can’t talk. Not talking’s when you could talk but choose to stay silent.

This might SOUND like talking but it’s thoughts in my head.

Sometimes I think like I talk and things make sense.

Sometimes I talk like I think and my teachers say, ‘Elle, have you swallowed a dictionary?’ and I feel embarrassed.

And sometimes when my feelings get jumbled up my words get jumbled up too.

Or words come out in the wrong order or on top of each other.

Or I don’t talk at all.

That’s when under the table is the best place to be.

Today, I’m living under the table.

Though the table’s higher than average, I have to bend my head down, so after a while my neck gets sore. It’s hard to sit still under the table for long. Sometimes I lie down just to stretch out. I used to like living in my bed when I felt too many emotions at once, and noises went louder and smells went stronger and I needed somewhere quiet and calm to make the panic go away, but it was difficult to keep the sheet over my head. The table is better; the white cloth hangs right down to the floor all the way round. Like being in a tent. I love that. Last year I went camping with the school and it was perfect having my own tent to sleep in. It felt like my own little house. I was SO happy.

But today I’m angry and sad. I can cope with being sad, angry and scared, although I don’t like it. But sometimes they get mixed up, like being happy and sad and scared at the same time. Yesterday I felt happy because leaping was like doing the long jump but ten times more exciting; sad because I leapt by mistake and if I had done it on purpose I would have gone backwards to make the bad thing unhappen, NOT forwards; scared because it’s illegal to leap solo before you’re 3-leap so I might get arrested and sent to a Young Offenders Unit.

Today I’m even tongue-tied with Grandma. I cooked her pepper soup for breakfast with yam and fish because she’s Nigerian and her leg is paining her. She has rheumatoid arthritis. I looked it up on the internet. I don’t think you can die from it but some mornings she’s in so much pain she can’t talk.

She wasn’t talking this morning and she ate her pepper soup sitting up in bed. She wrapped a white cardigan round her head as a headtie so she could bless the food in silence. When she prays over food she looks like she’s warming her hands and she closes her eyes so tight they look like belly buttons. This morning I let Grandma squeeze my hand, which shows she liked the pepper soup. Sometimes she complains I didn’t season it well, but today was the hand squeeze.

I ate mine at the table. I enjoyed it because it was a white meal. Yam is white unless it’s yellow. Yellow yam is much more expensive so we never buy it. I like yam, even though it doesn’t taste of anything. It has a creamy, grainy texture. Texture is the best part of food. Fish is white unless it’s red. We only buy white fish. The fish is nice and flaky in my mouth.

The Pastor’s wife smuggles yam from Nigeria in her suitcase and sells it on the Black Market. I used to think the Black Market was a market for black people, because white people eat potatoes and black people eat yam. Last time the Pastor’s wife visited, the handle came off her suitcase walking up the stairs because yam is much heavier than potato. It looks like tree bark. I cut off the skin, which is tough work, and washed it in salt water to get rid of the starch. Then I boiled it and added it to the pepper soup at the last minute to soak up the flavour. I always take my yam out of the pepper soup and put coconut oil on it and mash it up. You’re supposed to add palm oil but that’s red or orange and messes up the rainforest. I take the fish out, too. Mashed yam and white fish is my favourite breakfast.

Afterwards, I cleared the table and collected Grandma’s tray, washed the dishes and sat under the table. I’ve got my tablet and my mobile phone if I want to watch something or look something up. It’s not very comfortable under the table but my hair is spongey, so it stops me banging my head on the wood. Today it’s in bunches like ears on each side of my head. If I spend the whole morning here, when I come out to make lunch I’ll feel happy.

Someone’s knocking on the front door.

We live on the first floor so we never answer the door. We’d rather have a ground-floor flat because Grandma struggles with the stairs but Mrs Leggett’s lived downstairs for 30 years and refuses to die so no one else can rent her flat. There used to be a doorbell but it broke and the landlord won’t fix it, so you have to knock. Some people knock so loud I think the door’s going to cave in.

I’m sitting under the table, looking at the menu and the list of names for the trip. I’m going to be banned from the trip. I’m going to be excluded for running out of a lesson and leaping out of school and sprinting away from Mrs C Eckler, but that doesn’t stop me looking at the list of names. I like lists. Lists are like poems. Lists help me stay calm.

I’m looking at the list of names so I can imagine what the people are like and don’t have to think about SOS L and running out of a lesson and being excluded. And not being able to go on Leap 2048. I’ve never run out of a lesson before so I’ll definitely be excluded. But Grandma would be horrified if I was excluded because I have good grades in every subject. I would be horrified too.

They gave us a list of all the pupils on the trip so we can make friends more quickly when we get there. They have the same details so they know about us too. Half the pupils are Annuals from 2048 who’ve sworn the Oath of Secrecy because they have a Leapling with The Gift in their family.

Name	Age on29February	LeapYear	School/Institution
Ama Atta Asante	14	2048	Music, Maths and Movement
Seren Thomas	13	2048	Music, Maths and Movement
Megan Smith	13	2048	Music, Maths and Movement
Yusuf Ali	15	2048	Music, Maths and Movement
Martin Aston	13	2048	E-College-E
Kate Loftis	12	2048	E-College-E
Ben Novak	12	2020	Intercalary International
Jake Bartholomew	12	2020	Intercalary International
Elle Ifíè	12	2020	Intercalary International
Maria de Santos	12	2020	Intercalary International
GMT	16	1968	Home School
Noon McFarland	16	1924	Governess

I’m really looking forward to meeting Noon McFarland because her name is a palindrome like mine but is extra cool because if you write it in capital letters, NOON, it reads EXACTLY the same upside down AND refers to time. She was taught at home with a governess, which is like a tutor who comes to your house and is very strict. She’s 16 but Mrs C Eckler said she might seem younger than 16-year-olds nowadays because she hasn’t been allowed out very much. And because she won’t be used to things like hairdryers and mobile phones we have to help her adapt.

I can’t wait to meet GMT because she goes to Home School, which means her parents teach her at home, and comes from 1968, so she may have met Bob Beamon at the 1968 Olympic Games in Mexico City. But if she’s travelling from February 1968 the Olympics wouldn’t have started yet. The 1968 Olympics were held in October because it’s so hot in Mexico people would have died of heatstroke if they’d held them in August. But it was high altitude, so runners were flopping down like limp lettuce. There wasn’t enough oxygen.

I’ll be sharing a chalet with Noon and GMT and Ama. Mrs C Eckler says they mixed the ages so some of the older ones can mentor the younger ones, except Noon, who might need mentoring herself. GMT is also 16 and Ama is 14, which is good because I find it easier to talk to people older or a lot younger than me. Big Ben’s the main person my age I speak to. Ama goes to the Music, Maths and Movement School. In 2048, children go to schools depending on what they’re good at. The E-College-E pupils are good at biology and geography and conflict resolution.

I’m excited to meet all these new people but scared because I haven’t met them before. Mrs C Eckler showed us everyone’s photos so I know what they look like. I always remember what I see. Noon has short blonde hair in a bob and big starey eyes; GMT has tanned skin and long black straggly hair that looks like she never combs it; and Ama has a huge ginger afro and a gap in the middle of her teeth. Ama’s going to be my mentor for the week. Big Ben has to share with Jake and two other boys he doesn’t know. He doesn’t like meeting new people and he finds boys harder to talk to than girls. But he liked looking at the photos of the boys and he’s excited about the trip. One of them’s called Martin Aston, which is Aston Martin the other way round. I hope he’s into cars.

I like looking at the list and imagining what the other girls will be like and then I remember I’m going to be excluded and will never meet them anyway. I’ve never been excluded before but I’ve had several red cards and been sent to the Head Teacher lots. I don’t know why they use red cards because school isn’t a football match, it’s learning. When it’s meltdown, and I go from 0 to 10, the last thing I need is a red card. They should give me a white card. A white card would calm me down but a red card makes me dizzy and scared.

The last time I went to the Head was when I hid under the table during maths because Joanne Fletcher was sitting in my seat and told me to get over it, and Mrs Grayling grabbed me by the hands to pull me back to my seat so I could finish my algebra and I wanted to hit her but couldn’t because I’d get excluded if I hit a teacher so I started to scream until they had to get Mrs C Eckler to calm me down.

I’m thinking this when the knocking on the door gets much louder, like the person is angry. Why doesn’t Mrs Leggett open it? Who could be visiting at this time of day? Maybe someone has come to see Grandma. I remember the phone rang several times this morning and I didn’t answer it. My mobile buzzed and I ignored it in case it was another Predictive.

I think about ignoring the door but Grandma shouts from the bedroom.

‘Elle, answer the door. Answer it-o! I’m expecting the Pastor.’

The Pastor sometimes comes to pray over Grandma’s leg to make the pain go away. But it may not be the Pastor. It could be the Leap Police, who’ve come to arrest me for my illegal leap.

‘Elle, rise from this your table before my ears bust. Please, I beg!’

Even if it’s the Police I have to go downstairs and answer the door. But it isn’t the Police with steel handcuffs, or the Pastor smelling of palm oil. It’s Mrs C Eckler.

‘Can I come in, Elle?’ she says. I don’t know why she’s asking, as she’s already walking up the stairs and entering our flat. I close the door and take a deep breath.

Either she’s come to exclude me for running out of class without time-out permission or for running away from her car. Time-out permission is when I’m allowed to leave class to do running round the track. I couldn’t ask for time-out permission yesterday because my voice stopped working and my legs wanted to run home rather than round the track but I ended up leaping instead. I hope she doesn’t know about THAT.

She’s looking around the room and I feel ashamed of the damp patch that grows mushrooms on the wall behind the television. The mushrooms are grey and look like ears you’ve scrunched up in your hands. I don’t know what kind of mushrooms they are, but I bet they have a long name in Latin and if you eat them you’ll die. Even though I cut them down and scrub the patch every Saturday, they never really go away. Mrs C Eckler is turning her head, looking like she’s lost something.

‘Is your grandmother here?’

I point towards the bedroom door and, at the same time, Grandma says, ‘Elle, who is here?’

I open the bedroom door and Mrs C Eckler follows me into the bedroom. I’m not happy. No one gave her permission to enter the bedroom. Does she think she owns the flat? But Grandma is sitting up in bed, now wearing her yellow-and-blue fish headtie and smiling.

‘Mrs Eckler, you are welcome. Please. Take a seat.’

Grandma missed out the C but I don’t think Mrs C Eckler is offended. No one knows what the C stands for. Some people think it’s Carol but I have a better idea. I think it stands for 100 because C is 100 in Roman numerals.

I don’t know why Grandma is pleased to see Mrs C Eckler. I’m about to be excluded from Intercalary International. Grandma extends her hand to Mrs C Eckler and says, ‘I am very pleased with the progress Elle is making in her PPF.’

I’m a Level 4, which is almost the equivalent of GCSE level, exceptional for a Seventh Year. I’m pleased Grandma is pleased, but I don’t think she knows what PPF really is. Grandma never learnt to read and write. Even though she can’t read herself and does know what it’s about, she won’t let me read Harry Potter because ‘na full of witchcrafts’. She doesn’t understand there are good witchcrafts and bad witchcrafts. Harry Potter is about good overcoming evil.

‘Yes, Mrs Ifíè. We are very proud of Elle. She is a clever girl. But . . .’

She pauses and I hold my breath. I know what she’s going to say.

‘Elle has been bullied by one of the other children. We take bullying very seriously at Intercalary International.’

My mouth falls open in a capital O for Oops. This is not what I was expecting. Even though it’s a good surprise, I still find it difficult to cope with the change. If I was talking, this would make me tongue-tied. But as I’m already tongue-tied, my heart beats fast like it wants to jump out of my chest. For a moment, I feel so panicked I wish Mrs C Eckler had excluded me. Big Ben says Oops is like when you drive your car five miles down a narrow country lane then suddenly have to reverse because a tractor’s coming from the opposite direction. Reversing back to the junction’s much harder than driving forwards. You could turn the steering wheel the wrong way and end up in a ditch.

Grandma is now sitting up in bed but I can tell she is in a lot of pain because her eyes are still scrunched like she’s just woken up. She looks at Mrs C Eckler, then at me.

‘On the seventh day, God took rest. Not the fourth.’ Her eyes go big as Jupiter. ‘Elle, why are you not in school?’

Mrs C Eckler speaks quickly.

‘Elle has been granted some time off while we deal with the bullying.’

Mrs C Eckler is lying. No one gave me permission to stay off school, but I’m still not talking so I don’t say anything. Grandma doesn’t understand bullying. At the age of 12, she had left school and was looking after her younger brothers and sisters in the village in Nigeria. But she always wished she’d studied longer so she could read and write. She worships teachers almost as much as God. If Mrs C Eckler says I can stay at home, then Grandma is happy. She smiles from her bed.

‘Elle, make this your teacher a cup of tea.’

I go to the kitchen to boil the kettle but can hear everything Mrs C Eckler is saying, how all the speeches were recorded so they have the bullying on record, how the bully has been excluded for a week, how she’s going to put me on a special support programme after the school trip. AFTER the trip. So I’m still allowed to go. I’m happy until I remember I don’t want to go because the Predictive means someone’s in danger and I have to save them and I don’t know how. But at the same time I want to go because I’ve been looking forward to this trip for weeks. I pour the boiling water into the mug and add the evaporated milk and one sugar. That’s how I like it.

When I go back into the bedroom, Mrs C Eckler sips the tea and makes a face like it’s too hot. But I added loads of milk, so it can’t be.

‘Elle, are you happy about going on the Leap 2048 trip?’

I lower my eyes. I can’t lie. But I can’t tell Mrs C Eckler about the Predictive. Now that I’m not excluded, and I’m allowed to go, I really don’t want to. I’m scared. I shake my head. Grandma addresses Mrs C Eckler.

‘She refuses to talk. What for? Even last night she could not say Amen after evening prayer. What evil spirit is possessing her?’ She kisses her teeth.

Mrs C Eckler is facing Grandma but she says, ‘Elle, I think you’re not talking because the bully has threatened you. But don’t worry. They will be punished.’

I smile. Mrs C Eckler is kind but she doesn’t understand the real reason I’m not talking. It wasn’t the bullying; it was the bullying plus the text message. Events were one on top of the other, like words that are impossible to read. I can’t tell her.

She continues, still looking at Grandma because she knows I don’t like it when people stare at me, ‘But Leap 2048 is special and you are my star pupil. It’s the chance of a lifetime. There will never be another opportunity to make that leap.’

She says the next bit to Grandma.

‘This trip will be good for Elle’s confidence. The future is better for Leaplings like Elle. I’ve seen them thrive.’ She pauses. ‘Elle has formal permission to stay at home tomorrow . . .’ She produces some forms for Grandma to sign. As if Grandma can read what they say. They could say anything, like Elle will be executed tomorrow, and Grandma would still sign them for Mrs C Eckler. ‘I can collect you here at 5:45 on Saturday morning. What do you say?’

I’m still looking at the floor when I’m aware Grandma is facing me. I can almost feel the steam coming off her, the force of her all-the-better-to-see-you-with-eyes, like the wolf in Red Riding Hood.

‘Elle Bíbi-Imbelé Ifíè! Did I not teach you? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Mrs C Eckler is helping you. You must help her back. She has arranged a trip for you. It is your duty to attend.’

She slumps back into the bed like a toy that’s run out of batteries. I was raised to respect my elders and I’ve never disobeyed Grandma before, apart from reading Harry Potter.

Mrs C Eckler looks at me for the first time in minutes. I’m thinking about the quote. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I want to help Mrs C Eckler but I’m also thinking about SOS L. If someone IS in trouble, it’s my duty to help them.

Bob Beamon had two fouls before he got through to the Olympic final in 1968. He kept jumping over the board. His teammate told him to change his run-up so he could take off on his right foot and he jumped 2 feet before the board and managed to make it through to the final. 8 metres 90 was his first jump in the final. If his teammate hadn’t helped him, he would never have had the chance to make his record-breaking jump.

Mrs C Eckler is helping me like a teammate.

I make sure Mrs C Eckler is watching before I nod my head. And she smiles.