Читать книгу A Thousand Water Bombs - T. M. Alexander - Страница 16

four days till the bombs drop

It was all coming together nicely. Bribery was the answer. (But not the sort of bribery that got us in trouble over School Council elections.) No way could me and Fifty fill and tie a thousand water bombs, so we brought in some help. It was his idea. One free water bomb on the day of the fair for each ten filled, tied and put in the bucket. We were giving away the profits but who cared? There were six Year 5s in the art room with us and they worked while we watched.

Fifty’s brain must have been working overtime because he said he’d also solved the swap stall problem. I didn’t get a chance to find out how because Callum poked his head in.

‘What do you want?’ said Fifty.

‘I want to know why you’re playing with the little kids.’ He meant our Year 5 workers.

‘It’s teamwork. Not something you’d know anything about, Hog.’

‘Hog’ is Copper Pie’s name for Callum, because he hogs the ball in football.

‘Looks like a sweat shop,’ said Callum, before he disappeared along the corridor.

‘So how have you solved the swap stall problem?’ I asked.

‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

‘Tell me, now.’

Bee and Jonno poked their heads round the door to see how we were getting on.

‘Tell us what?’ said Bee. She forced the idea out of him.

‘You know the class list?’ said Fifty.

We all nodded. Each class has one. It’s emailed to the parents and has name, address, phone number and email address of everyone in your class so your parents can invite the whole lot to your birthday party even though (in my case) you only like four people.

‘I emailed all the kids in our class who have a brother or sister in another class and got them to send me their list so now I’ve got the whole school. We don’t need posters or Chinese Whispers. We can send an email about the Give and Take.’

As if the Head would let us do that? Fifty can be dim sometimes.

‘Fantastic,’ said Bee. ‘I’ll write the words, you send it.’

‘No, not fantastic,’ I said. ‘There are rules about who can have your details and use them and all that . . .’

Oh no! I’d seen those looks before. The you’re-such-a-drip ones.

One of the Year 5 workers stopped tying and said, ‘He’s right. Data protection. Unless all the parents crossed the box about sharing data you’ll be in trouble.’

‘How do you know?’ said Fifty, looking down at him somehow even though the Year 5 was taller.

‘My mum’s an expert in data protection.’

‘Well, don’t tell her then,’ said Bee.

‘Or the deal’s off,’ added Fifty.

The worker went back to water-bomb assembly.

‘Come on,’ said Bee. ‘You can leave them to it. Let’s go and find Copper Pie and then we can have a go at the email. We need to get people to act. The swap stall’s going to be huge.’

‘Hey slaves,’ said Fifty. ‘We’ve got a meeting about the fair. Carry on and we’ll be back before the end of lunch to count your bombs.’

It was good being managers. No chapped lips. No rubber taste in your mouth.

Bee found Copper Pie and dragged him away from his exciting game kicking the ball against the wall repeatedly, like a machine. We sat in our den listening to Bee make up advertising slogans to explain the stall.

‘That’s too many words,’ said Jonno. ‘It needs to be simple, and short.’

‘Like Fifty,’ said Bee. Good one!

‘Watch it!’ said Fifty.

‘How about – get something for nothing,’ said Jonno.

‘It’s not nothing though. It’s get something for something else you don’t want,’ said Fifty.

‘That’s not snappy though, is it? Slogans are meant to be memorable.’ Jonno was right.

‘Something you want, for something you don’t,’ I said.

‘Something you want, for something you don’t,’ Bee repeated. ‘That’s it, Keener.’

‘Same,’ said Fifty.

‘We all agree,’ said Jonno. ‘Get sending, Fifty.’

‘I’ll do it as soon as I get home. Operation Email will be complete by 1700 hours.’

I was pleased I’d come up with the slogan, but that meant I was involved, which I wasn’t pleased about. I avoid trouble like surfers on Solana Beach avoid great white sharks. The email was bound to come flying back at us – outraged parents, abusing the class list system, an unfair advantage, the data protection police . . .

‘I’m going back to the art room before the bell goes. Coming, Fifty?’

‘Sure.’

On the way I tried to talk him out of it. He doesn’t like trouble either. But he was dead set on it.

‘It’s on your head,’ I said, but it wouldn’t be, would it? It would be on Tribe’s.

I checked the computer before I went to bed. The email was there. And it was from Fifty, making him prime suspect if the Head found out. He could have at least used his mum’s address.

From: j.reynolds@bcffd.com

Subject: SOMETHING YOUWANT, FOR SOMETHING YOU DON’T

Date: 22 May 16:47:45 BST

To: undisclosed-recipients

At the summer fair on Saturday there is going to be a Give and Take stall. Please bring something you don’t want, to swap for something you do.

No money involved. This is an environmentally friendly stall.