Fug and the Thumps

by Malachy Doyle

  And what if there’s a real live person out here, have you thought of that? How else could it have gone on fire? I mean, it’s not an electrical fault – there isn’t any electricity!

  So what about that missing kid? The one you’ve been talking about on the radio all week. You know, Ben Hastings? You haven’t forgotten him already, have you?

  I’m coughing still. My face and hands are killing me. But it was worth it. Surely it was worth it?

  Trouble is, the wind’s blowing all the smoke out to sea. Come on, wind, change direction!

  I’m terrified the fire’ll go out before anyone’s spotted it. So I drag a mattress over – the one I’ve been sleeping on – from the other house. I’ve got to keep the smoke going.

  It’s still too hot to go near, of course – I may be stupid, but I’m not that stupid. So I leave the thing outside till I can get a bit closer.

  I’m sorry, island. Bit by bit I’m destroying you. But I just want to live!

  I go for a walk, down by the shore. It is a heck of a lot cooler, away from the flames. I’m looking up, every now and again, for signs of rescue. A helicopter? A giant fire extinguisher?

  I’m looking out to sea. A boat? That stupid kayak again?

  My friend the seal pops up. I can see the alarm in his eyes, even from here.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I tell him. ‘I won’t hurt you. I’m just burning the island.’

  But I’m not, am I? Because the island isn’t a holiday house or a fishing hut. It’s a shame I had to burn them, but what choice did I have? No, the island is the rocks and the beaches. It’s the birds and the flowers. The wind and the waves. The sand and the soil. It’s the crabs in the rockpools. The rabbits, the hares, the cries of the gulls.

  The island will still be around long after I’ve stopped bothering it – and it’ll have one more story to tell.

  Just like I’ll still be around, long after Fug and the Thumps have stopped bothering me. Well, that’s the hope, anyway.

  11

  The Courage of a Lion

  Because yeah, I’m going to be in trouble when I get home. You can’t go burning down people’s houses – and nearly killing yourself into the bargain – without getting into big trouble.

  Never mind nicking eighty-five quid off your very own dad. Never mind all the other crazy stuff I’ve done over the past few days. (I’ll be giving him most of the money back, mind you. There’s not a lot to spend it on out here.)

  Yeah. I’ve got trouble coming. But nothing like the trouble that’s coming the way of Fug and his stupid Thumps. Oh yes.

  Because that’s what the island’s taught me. That I’m strong. That I don’t have to be afraid any more. That if I’ve got a problem, no matter how big, I can find a way to do something about it. I don’t have to run away from it.

  That ‘finding some space’ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That there comes a time when you’ve got to stand up and be counted.

  So when I get back, I’m going to do something about Fug and those Thumps. Oh yes. Not just for me. For all the other kids, too. All the ones now, all the ones in the future.

  Cos I’m not scared of him any more. Cos, just like the flipping Lion in the flipping Wizard of Oz, I’ve found my courage, because:

  I refused to do their dirty work. Right at the start of all this, before I even set foot on this stupid island, I put my foot down and said ‘No!’

  I nicked eighty-five smackers from my dad. He’ll be mad at me!

  I skipped school. They’ll be mad at me!

  I paddled out to sea in a leaky kayak. Without a life jacket. Don’t do this at home, kids.

  I bust into a couple of holiday homes and nicked a load of food.

  I took off to open sea again, without even a paddle.

  I bailed out and swam to shore.

  I blew up a fishing hut, for flip’s sake.

  And then I burnt down a holiday home!

  Every one of them, crazy or not, wrong or not, took courage. And if I can do all that, I can go back to the very first one – standing up to Fug – and do it right this time.

  Because it’s not enough to say no any more. I’ve got to stop him!

  So first I’m going to tell my parents everything he’s been doing. I’m going to have to anyway, because how else are they going to understand why I did what I did? Why I put them through all this.

  Together, me and my folks, we’ll tell the teachers. We’ll tell the head.

  Together, we’ll tell the kids in school that it’s going to stop. Everything that’s been going on, everything that’s been turning them into damaged little worry-monsters, like me… It’s all going to really, truly, actually STOP!

  That’s what’ll happen, right?

  12

  Watch Out, World!

  I can hear something…

  I can see something…

  Here they come! HERE THEY FREAKING COME – THE RESCUE SQUAD!

  Now, watch out world – I’m on the way back!

  13

  Running

  I step off the boat and there’s Mum, rushing towards me. With tears streaming down her face.

  Behind her is Dad, with the biggest smile ever!

  And behind him – I can’t believe it – there’s a load of people with cameras. TV cameras, by the look of it!

  And behind them. Half my flipping school! Half the whole damn town!

  Mum’s hugging me now, like she’ll never let me go. But I’m looking over her shoulder. Scanning the crowd.

  And there he is. Standing to one side. Francis Ultan Green. With that look in his eye – that cold hard look that can freeze you to the spot. That can make you do anything he damn well wants.

  He glances round to check no one’s watching him. Fixes me with his eye again, to make sure I don’t look away.

  He points a finger at me, before pressing it to his lips. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he slides it across his throat.

  Only something’s different. I can sense, even from here, that Fug’s going through the motions. That his heart’s not in it.

  I narrow my eyes and zoom in on him, just like the camera’s zooming in on me…

  As the woman with the microphone shoves it in my face, and the very first question comes – ‘Why did you do it, Ben?’

  I’m not returning her gaze. I’m staring at Fug, straight and hard.

  There’s a long, long silence – way too long for TV. And the cameras, realising I’m not going to answer, I’m not even going to look at them, turn to follow my gaze. So do the reporters, the teachers, half the flipping school, half the whole damn town…

  And I see it on Fug’s face. For the first time ever. That look. The look that he could put on his victim, just by giving you the eye, just by pointing a finger at you. That fear that makes your eyes open wide, your body shut down. That makes your knees turn to jelly. That makes you either run, or wet yourself.

  Well, I’m the one doing the pointing now. Me and the world’s cameras. And Fug’s the one with that look on his face, now that everyone’s staring at him. It’s a look of fear. Pure and absolute fear.

  Because he’s been found out, at last – and the whole world’s watching. The game’s up, Francis Ultan Green. Your bullying days are over…

  Because me, Ben Hastings, I’m the one that’s doing the looking. Yes, I’m the one that’s doing the pointing. And it’s you, Francis Green, whose knees have turned to jelly. You, Francis Green, whose courage melts to custard.

  Because there’s you, on one side, full of hate. And on the other there’s everyone else, full of joy, to see me safe and well.

  So where’s your jolly gang of Thumps now, kid? They know which side their bread’s buttered on, that’s what – and they’ve switched to the winning team.

  Leaving you on your own, with your bitter, twisted nastiness, Francis Green. So who’s got the power now, kid? Who’s the one with no one looking out for them now, kid?

  Suddenly he’s running. He
’s turned and he’s running. From me, from the cameras, from the whole damn world…

  It’s Fug the bully-boy. Running scared.

  First published in 2018

  by Firefly Press

  25 Gabalfa Road, Llandaff North, Cardiff, CF14 2JJ

  www.fireflypress.co.uk

  Text copyright © Malachy Doyle

  The author asserts his moral right to be identified as author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.

  paperback ISBN 9781910080689

  ebook ISBN 9781910080696

  This book has been published with the support of the Welsh Books Council.