The Bubble Boy

by Stewart Foster

  The camera wobbles as Henry carries the laptop across the room and puts it down on a table. He sits down on a chair. His mum and dad sit down on the sofa. Henry’s dad leans forwards and moves the screen.

  ‘That OK, Joe?’

  The picture moves to the left. Matt’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, picking his nose. I laugh. They all look at the camera and smile. It’s like I’m sat in the middle of a circle. I love it that when they come to visit Henry they come to visit me as well. Sometimes Henry talks to Beth when she visits. It’s good, but it’s not the same as if I had a bigger family to share.

  Henry’s mum is the first one to speak. She is wearing bright red lipstick and when she talks she looks around at everyone, just to check they’re listening.

  ‘I’ve got a new job,’ she says, ‘at a new accountancy firm that just opened in town. They seem good people, but I don’t know how I got it. I thought I was too old, but I guess I make good coffee and can type 120 words a minute.’

  ‘Yeah, and unfortunately she talks that fast too,’ says Henry’s dad.

  We all laugh. Henry’s mum tries to be quiet but it’s not long before she starts talking again. She tells us her car broke down last week out on the freeway, which is American for motorway, but she didn’t mind too much because the tow-truck guy looked like Tom Cruise. Henry’s dad says he’s not sure we all want to hear that, but all she does is smile and then start talking again about the tow-truck driver and then about a cat on her street that died after climbing into a tumble dryer. Eventually she stops and looks around the room. ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘I guess it’s someone else’s turn.’ She looks at Matt. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and holds it up to the camera.

  Things I did.

  He turns the list around and reads it out. ‘My boat got sunk in the lake. I lost my bike. I found ten dollars. I bought me a hamster. I fell over in the mall – did this –’ He rolls up his trousers and shows us the scabs on his knees. ‘Went to cinema, got new Transformer, spoke to Dad on Skype, spoke to Henry on Skype, lost my hamster, late for school, got lock for the cage, got new hamster, drew a T-Rex, packed stuff to go to see Henry and Joe. The end.’

  His dad smiles and puts his arm around Matt’s shoulder. I wait for someone to ask Matt questions about his list, but they don’t and I think that they’ve already spoken to him about it and the list was just written for me. I hear a door slide open. Henry’s mum walks in front of the camera, then comes back a few moments later and puts two cups of coffee down on the table. She looks at Henry. He smiles at her then looks in my direction like he wants to say something but all he does is shrug. I do the same. It’s weird how we can talk to each other all night and all day but can’t think of anything to say when other people are around.

  Henry’s dad leans forward and picks up his cup of coffee. ‘Hey Joe,’ he says, ‘Henry says you might be going outside, too.’

  ‘Sorry, Joe. It just slipped out.’

  ‘Oops, sorry, Joe. Didn’t know it was a secret. This guy’s going to the mall.’ He puts his arm around Henry’s shoulders. ‘Where are you off to?’

  I shrug. It seems silly to talk about where I’m going. Amir hasn’t told me anything; we haven’t got any plans. Henry knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s had a timetable mapped out for months.

  ‘I don’t know. I could tell you where I go in my head, though.’

  ‘Yeah, Joe,’ says Henry. ‘Tell us one of your dreams, the superhero things. Start with the soccer guy.’

  I smile and look up at Theo Walcott. I’d love to play football with him and after the game at Wembley he’d shake my hand and give me one of his shirts and show me around the dressing rooms and I’d meet the rest of the team. On the screen, everyone is waiting for me to speak, but I feel nervous that I won’t say anything interesting.

  ‘My dream is to go into London and meet Beth at Covent Garden. She likes a café there, I don’t know the name, but she says it’s inside the market, by the clock. I’d get Greg to text her, say he needs to talk to her about me. But he wouldn’t be there, it’d be me. I’d walk up behind her while she’s drinking coffee and reading her book. I’d tap her on the shoulder and make her jump. Then she’d give me a massive hug.’

  I stop talking. Henry’s mum smiles at me.

  ‘Go on, Joe. What happens next?’

  ‘I don’t know, but she always says she’d like to go on the London Eye.’

  ‘Do you know the route?’ She says it like ‘rowt’.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The route . . . Do you know the way?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ve done it on Google Earth loads of times. It’s in my head.’

  ‘But don’t take the subway,’ says Henry. ‘You don’t want to go underground after being stuck in a room all your life.’ We all laugh.

  ‘Maybe you could all meet her,’ I say. ‘We could go to her house.’

  ‘Is it near your hospital?’

  ‘Not now, she’s gone to Edinburgh. It’s miles away.’

  Henry’s mum rests her head against her husband’s shoulder. I wait for Henry or Matt to say something, but they all just sit there looking at me. I look down at the floor. I didn’t get to go to Beth’s house before she moved. It was only two miles away. I’ve seen pictures of it when she’s there with her friends but that’s just pictures of people sat on the sofa watching TV or drinking in the kitchen. If I visited her I wouldn’t want anyone else there. I’d just like to sit on the sofa by her side, eat dinner and watch TV. But I can’t do that. It’s silly to think I could.

  I hear a sniff and look up. Henry’s mum is smiling but wiping a tear from her eye at the same time.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

  Henry’s mum wipes her nose on her sleeve.

  ‘You good, Joe?’ says Henry’s dad.

  ‘Yes, I’m just a bit tired now.’

  ‘Not surprised,’ says Henry. ‘You’ve been all the way to Trafalgar Square and back again.’

  I smile. ‘Think I might get some rest.’

  ‘Okay.’

  They all wave and shout goodbye. I pick up my phone and text Beth.

  Miss you.

  A minute later she replies.

  What made you send that?

  No reason. Just felt like it.

  I’m on way to work.

  I’m laid on my bed.

  Been talking to Henry

  Bet he’s excited about the mall

  He is . . .

  My fingers hover over the keypad. I want to tell her that Amir is taking me out too, but she’d tell me not to go, she might even tell the nurses. But she’d want what I wanted, wouldn’t she? I press the keys.

  I’ve got something to tell you. Don’t worry about me, but I’m going outside too

  My thumb is over the Send key.

  Got to go.

  I shake my head. I don’t want her to worry. I take a deep breath and press Delete.

  OK

  I’ll text again after work

  X

  X

  I sigh and hold my phone down by my side.

  On my screens the workmen are still digging the trench. The traffic lights are changing from red to green. On the bottom screen I see someone on the roof of my building. It’s the man in the boiler suit. He slides his bag off his shoulder, reaches in and pulls out a knife. I didn’t think that we had pigeons on our roof too. They damage buildings and carry disease. They could get trapped in the cooling towers and the disease would come through the tubes and out through the vents. But the vents have got filters and my machines have got sensors. I look up the air-conditioning unit. The blades turn down towards me and the air blows in. The germs could be coming in right now. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. How can I even think of going outside when I’m so scared of catching a disease in here? I take another deep breath and open my eyes. The man walks between the cooling towers. I pick up my remote and turn the screens off.

  11 years, 3 months an
d 8 days

  The light on my laptop has been flashing all morning. The documentary was on TV last night and already the messages have started to arrive. It’s like this every year. At first they didn’t let me see them all. They censored them by blocking all the rude ones or the ones they thought would upset me. But now I’m older they let them all through, except the ones with the f-word.

  Greg sat and watched the documentary with me. I was on for 14 minutes and 45 seconds. They cut out the bit about the wasp, all the times I went to the toilet, and the hour the fly was on the wall was cut to fifteen seconds. But they left in the bit about me being a superhero. Greg laughed when he heard me say that. The rest of the programme was interviews with doctors and some of the kids in the rest of the wards. I saw the girl who pretends she’s a horse trotting between the beds and I saw the boy who reads The Hunger Games on his own in a corner with his book. He didn’t really say much, except that his favourite film was The Amazing Spider-Man. I thought the boy was quite cool and wished we could watch it together. But the snooker-ball kid was my favourite. He never sat still. Graham was trying to talk to him while New-cameraman-David chased after them with the camera and when he caught up with them the snooker-ball kid was out of breath and talked really fast.

  ‘ThedoctorsandthenursesarereallykindlikeandIliketheotherkids tooeveniftheydon’tsupportNewcastle.’

  Me and Greg laughed. Then we laughed even more when he got a sheet from his bed and ran around the ward pretending he was a ghost. But even though he laughed a lot I could tell he wasn’t very well. I could see his veins underneath the red paint on his head and his legs were the same thickness as my arms. I’d like to meet him, but if I did I think I’d be too tired to keep up with him.

  I pick up my laptop. I’ve got six messages and I’ve already had conversations with some of them. I click on the first one.

  BBC Bubble Boy Forum

  Tue 24 August, 22:01

  Dear Bubble Boy.

  I just saw you on TV. Sorry you’re stuck in a bubble. Are there any things you can do to help you forget about it?

  Amy Hobbs. Dumfries.

  BBC Bubble Boy Forum

  Wed 25 August, 07:23

  Dear Amy. Yes, I dream.

  What do you dream about?

  Lots of things.

  Does it work?

  Yes.

  Great!

  But when I wake up I’m still here.

  Oh

  Sorry. Got to go to school. Bye.

  Bye.

  BBC Bubble Boy Forum

  Wed 25 August, 09:23

  Dear Bubble Boy. Would you like to come to my birthday party? It’s on 28th August. You can bring Henry too and my mum said Greg can come as well if he likes.

  Georgia D Brighton

  BBC Bubble Boy Forum

  Wed 25 August, 10:25

  Dear Georgia. I would love to.

  But I can’t.

  Happy Birthday.

  Most of the messages I receive are like these. I think they think they are the only ones who ask the same questions, but I don’t mind. It must be what it’s like for film stars when they get interviewed for newspapers and on TV. Greg said it’s a good thing because at least it shows people were watching me and thinking about me. A new message beeps on my screen.

  BBC Bubble Boy Forum

  Wed 25 August, 10:21

  Dear Bubble Boy. My dad thinks that you’re not really in a bubble, that there’s nothing wrong with you and it’s all a publicity stunt to get people to donate more money for the hospital. He says when the cameras go off you walk outside and go round the corner to KFC. I told him he can’t have because you would die outside and anyway you can only eat food wrapped in foil. He said that’s rubbish, he knew it was you because you had an Arsenal shirt on. You were in there last week eating a whole bargain bucket and drinking Coke. And he got your autograph on the box. I hope this isn’t true, but I also hope it is too. It can’t be nice living in a bubble.

  Tom Huntingdon.

  Basildon

  I wish it was true. I wish I was faking. I wish when they stopped filming I could just put my coat on and go outside. I would love to go to KFC. I’ve only ever seen it on films or sometimes I’ve seen the red boxes blowing down the street. I don’t know what it tastes like. Greg told me it’s greasy and smells of sawdust, but that doesn’t help because I don’t know what sawdust smells like.

  My phone buzzes. My mornings are never as busy as this. I pick it up. It’s a message from Beth.

  Joe, are you up yet?

  Yes

  My phone rings. I look at the screen. Beth? She never calls. Maybe she wants to talk about last night. I hold my phone up to my ear.

  ‘Joe.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She says my name again but then all I can hear is a muffled sound and the roar of traffic.

  ‘Beth,’ I say. ‘I can’t hear you.’ I look at my phone. I’ve got three bars. ‘Beth.’

  The noise of the traffic has gone; all I can hear is Beth crying. My heart beats fast. I get off my bed and walk around the room.

  ‘Beth, what’s wrong?’

  She tries to speak but all she does is cry more.

  ‘Beth, where are you?’

  The phone goes dead. I look at my screen. She’s gone. I walk over to the window and dial her number. My phone buzzes in my hand before I get through.

  Joe, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have called.

  My hands are shaking I can hardly type.

  What’s wrong?

  I’m not going to stay in Edinburgh.

  Why not?

  I saw you on TV. You didn’t want me to come up here.

  What?

  You cried when they asked you.

  Oh no! I forgot I did that. I look around the room, up at the air-con. I could tell her it had switched on when Graham asked me the question. I could say it was blowing really hard, so hard that the air stung my eyes, but she’ll know that’s not true.

  Joe? Are you still there?

  Yes. I’m sorry. It was the drugs. These ones make me cry.

  I look at my phone and wait for another message. The screen goes blank. I hate it when Beth goes quiet.

  Wish I hadn’t gone on TV.

  But you like it. And you were great.

  Not really.

  You were. The bit when you said you were a superhero

  was lovely

  But I am

  Ha.

  I smile and close my eyes and try to think of something else that will make her laugh but my phone buzzes again before I can.

  Joe, I know it wasn’t the drugs. I’ll come back. I’m going look closer to London.

  You said you had to go there.

  I’ll see if I can change.

  She has to stay there. If Mum and Dad were alive, she would. I want her to do what she wants to do and get the best job, and be happy. I don’t want her to be thinking about me all the time.

  I want you to stay there. Just because I’m stuck in a bubble doesn’t mean you have to be too. It’ll be boring if you don’t. You won’t have anything to talk to me about.

  OK. OK! You can stop now.

  But I mean it.

  I know you do.

  You’re just panicking like I do. Take deep breaths.

  Ha! The expert!

  We’ll Skype every night.

  You’re too busy chatting to Henry!

  When he’s having dinner.

  Squeezing me in?

  I’m joking.

  So you’ll stay up there?

  I smile. I’m winning. I need to get off the phone before she changes her mind.

  My battery is dying.

  It can’t be

  It is.

  You’ve got a charger.

  It’s broke.

  I know what you’re doing!

  You’re staying. OK.

  But only if you call when you need me.

  I will

  Promise?

  Batt
ery going . . . battery going!

  Joe! Promise?

  OK

  Is your battery really going?

  No. I want to pee. Ha!

  X

  X

  I turn my phone off and put it down by my side. My chest is aching and my head is too. I wish I hadn’t cried on TV. I wish Graham hadn’t asked that question, or they had cut it out.

  11 years, 3 months and 9 days

  There’s a queue twenty people long in the reception. Julie has been busy taking presents all morning. They’re stacked up against the wall behind her desk. I can’t see what they all are but if it’s the same as last year they’ll be mostly teddies, dolls and remote-control cars. Some of them are old toys that people don’t want any more, but some are newly wrapped with labels with kids’ names written on them. They cut most of them off but I don’t mind. It’s not fair that just those of us who were on TV get to have everything, and my room isn’t big enough for them all anyway. But I would like the FIFA 15 game that a man and his little boy brought in an hour ago.

  The queue grows even longer after midday as people take their lunch hour and go to the shops and bring more presents in for us. Then after 2 o’clock the reception is quiet again and the pile goes down as Keith takes them down the corridor and locks them in a room. I switch cameras and watch the workmen for an hour until I spot Amir walking along the pavement with his rucksack on his back. He nods to Keith, then when he’s in the reception he turns, glances up at the camera and gives me a thumbs-up. He’s so silly.