All the Things That Could Go Wrong

by Stewart Foster

  ‘Here he is!’ My heart jumps a beat. I spin round and see Sophie standing with the Georges by her side.

  ‘Thought you could hide from us, did you, Shark Face?’

  I look around for help, but the only teacher here is Mr Anderton and he’s busy talking to Mr Jevons.

  I search for Dan, but I can’t see him anywhere.

  Sophie puts her face up close to mine.

  ‘I’ve got something for you.’ She reaches into her bag and gets out a marker pen. ‘Thought you might like a moustache,’ she sniggers.

  The Georges stand either side of me, getting ready to grab my arms.

  Dan, where are you? We’re supposed to be pretending to fight.

  He’s nowhere. He isn’t going to sort this out; he’s just left them to pick on me on their own.

  Sophie takes the top off the pen.

  ‘Hold him still.’

  The Georges grab my arms and I smell the chemicals from the pen as Sophie waves it under my nose. Where is he? Where’s Dan? I pull my head away from the pen. I was stupid to think Dan would be here to stick up for me. I knew I’d watched too many happy films. Nothing ever happens like it does in films.

  Sophie holds the pen right under my nose. I manage to wriggle one arm free.

  ‘I can’t hold him still,’ says George C. ‘Let’s wait for Dan.’

  ‘Dan’s not here,’ says Sophie. ‘And he won’t be coming back today. They might even expel the crybaby for running off.’

  What? Crybaby? What does she mean, Dan’s run off?

  George C. grabs my arm again. I rip it free.

  ‘Where’s Dan?’ I ask. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘Oooh, Where’s Dan? Where’s Dan?’ Sophie says in a whiny voice that’s supposed to be me.

  ‘I mean it! Where is he?’

  ‘He ran out of class blubbing,’ says Sophie. ‘He was saying something about his brother not coming home. He lost it, big time,’ she sniggers.’

  ‘What?’

  She pushes me roughly. ‘Why are you so interested? What’s it got to do with you, Shark Face?’

  The bell rings for the end of break.

  ‘Okay!’ shouts Mr Anderton. ‘Everybody back to lessons.’

  The Georges step away from me reluctantly as Sophie puts the pen back in her bag.

  ‘I guess the moustache can wait,’ she says. ‘But we’ll get you later,’ she snarls.

  They turn and walk away.

  What’s she on about? Dan’s been crying?

  His brother’s not coming home.

  All the time I’ve been worrying about my own problems so much I’d forgotten about his. He ran out of school because Ben’s not coming home. Dan must have been really upset if he cried in school; no one ever does that. Where did he run off to? Why didn’t Mr Francis stop him? If Dan’s that upset, he won’t take any notice of the traffic and he could get knocked over on his way home and even if he gets there his mum and dad might not be in. If there’s something wrong with Ben, they’re bound to be going to the STC.

  ‘Oi, you!’ Mr Anderton shouts at me. ‘Yes, you. Get a move on.’

  I start walking across the playground.

  But what if he hasn’t even gone home? What if he’s gone to the cave? He’ll be sitting there on his own. I need to go down and help him, but I’ll get in just as much trouble as him if I leave school.

  I reach the science-block doors and stop.

  But what if he’s not sitting there crying? Sophie made it sound like he’ d gone crazy. What if he’s—

  Oh no! He’s gone to the cave to take Shooting Star to see Ben, like he drew on the board.

  Don’t be silly – you’re overreacting. He can’t be.

  No, he has. He’s upset and Mum says people do silly things when they’re upset. He’s going to take Shooting Star out. She’s not finished. We’ve not moved the buoys. If Dan takes her out, she’ll f lip upside down and he’ll drown.

  He won’t. It won’t. He won’t. Go away.

  He will.

  I’ve got to stop him. I’ve got to get to the seafront.

  I can’t. I can’t run out of school. I can’t risk the seagulls.

  She’s not ready. The buoys will flip him up. He’ll drown. He’ll drown.

  ‘Argh! I’m an elephant. I’m an elephant. I’ve got to stop him.’

  I turn away from the doors and run as fast as I can across the teachers’ car park.

  ‘Hey, you!’ Mr Anderton shouts. ‘I said get to lessons.’

  Dan’s gone to the cave. Dan’s going on Shooting Star.

  I’ve never deliberately missed a lesson. I’ve never broken the school rules.

  I step up onto the wall and jump down onto the path.

  ‘Hey!’

  I look for a gap in the traffic and run across the road.

  Dan: My great escape

  I run along the seafront. The rain is pouring on to my head, down my neck and sticking my clothes to my skin. I run past the Observation Tower, then the clock tower. I wish I had my bike but I’m running as fast as I can. I put my head down and try to sprint but the wind is blowing in my face, almost pushing me backwards. I feel like Rex, stuck in one place in his wheel. My legs are aching and I’m running out of breath. But I’m not going to stop. If I stop, I’ll cry.

  I push on past the boarded-up doughnut shop, Al’s Pizza, the big wheel and Mr Kendall’s kiosk. I stop outside the cave, put my hands on my knees to catch my breath but I want to see Ben so badly it’s like I’m breathing through straws. I look up at the cave. At the padlock. The key! I haven’t got the key! I turn and run back to Mr Kendall’s kiosk. He’s got a spare that he used to leave in case Ben forgot his. I run around the back, check along the seafront, so no one sees what I’m doing.

  But the mist is coming in off the sea so quickly that I can’t see anyone and I don’t think anyone can see me. I reach under the wooden hut and feel sand and tiny stones under my fingers, then the cold metal of the key. I rush back to the cave and undo the padlock. The door flings open and I turn on the light.

  The first trip on Shooting Star wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to be a sunny day, not rainy, and me and Ben would have sandwiches and drinks and Alex was supposed to be here too. But neither of them are here and I’ve got no sandwiches or drinks because I left my bag at school. But I can’t go back for them now.

  I drag the tarpaulin off Shooting Star, then look around for what else I need, but suddenly my mind is blank.

  I bend down, and pick up the trailer. It’s heavier on my own. I grit my teeth and pull harder. The wheels begin to turn, then Shooting Star starts to roll out of the cave.

  If they won’t let Ben out, then I’ll break him out.

  Alex: What am I doing?

  Push the button. Push the button.

  It’s germy. It’s germy.

  It’s raining. That’ll clean it.

  It won’t – it just spreads the germs. It—

  I can’t—

  I step off the kerb and sprint, dodging between the traffic, and make it to the other side without touching the button.

  The buoys are in the wrong place. Shooting Star’s going to f lip over. Dan’s going to—argh! Dog poo!

  I jump over it. My heart is thudding in my chest. I don’t have time to check my shoes, so I keep running away from the thought in my head until I reach the seafront.

  I stop and catch my breath. The seafront is wet and empty. I look down onto the beach. The sea is grey and choppy like a giant-toothed monster that’s about to swallow up any boats that dare to sail. Shooting Star would flip if it was calm. She’ll fly six metres in the air if it’s as rough as this.

  I look along the beach to see if I can spot Dan, but there’s just lots of pebbles and lots of grey before everything disappears into the mist. Even the top of the Observation Tower has been swallowed by the clouds.

  I start to run—

  A seagull squawks above my head.

  A
h! No!

  There’s six of them hovering above me on the wind. It’s my nightmare. It’s dive-bomb alley. They’re circling and squawking, getting ready to attack me now.

  Dive-bomb alley.

  Dan’s going to drown.

  I take a deep breath.

  I am an elephant. I am an elephant.

  I look up. The seagulls haven’t shrunk. They’re getting bigger. They’re big grey fighter bombers in the sky.

  I am an elephant. I am—

  Run. Run. If you don’t go now, Dan will drown.

  I drag my feet off the ground, one in front of the other, then I start to run, fast, then faster. The seagulls are still above me.

  It’s harder to hit a moving target.

  I swerve round the benches, dodge the bins. I don’t even look at the pavement. I can’t look at the pavement. And I daren’t look at the sky.

  I make it past some workmen by the Observation Tower, then the pier, Al’s Pizza, the big wheel then Mr Kendall’s kiosk.

  I stop outside the cave door and try to gulp in as much air as I can, like a fish.

  Dan’s bike is laid flat on the ground. I peer into the cave.

  You’re too late!

  Shooting Star has gone. All that’s left are the tyres we used to prop her up and the tarpaulin is strewn across the floor.

  And the life jackets are in the corner!

  I grab them and run out on to the seafront. I need to get help, but there’s no one around.

  There’s a telephone box near the cinema. It’s full of germs. People breathe in them. People cough in them. People pee in them.

  It’s too far anyway. I could run back to the workmen, but that’s even further and by then it might be too late.

  Dan can’t have got far. If he ran out just before the end of the lesson, he can only be fifteen minutes ahead of me.

  I run down on to the pebbles with the life jackets tucked under my arm. There’s no sign of Dan, just a sea mist all around me. I’ve never known it this thick. I couldn’t even make out a ferry if it was thirty metres in front of me. I look up and down the beach. If the beach was sand, I could search for Dan’s footprints, but the pebbles are so jumbled that they don’t give me a clue. I stumble across them to the water’s edge. There’s something moving around in the waves, too dark to make out, like a big black eel. I need to find out what it is.

  I take a deep breath and put one foot into the sea, then the other.

  The sea’s filthy and full of sewage.

  I’ve got my gloves.

  The black thing swims round me. I bend down and fish it out. My hearts sinks into the pit of my stomach.

  In my left hand is a shoe and in my right is a sock. They have to be Dan’s. This is where he took them off. This is where he went into the water.

  This is where he drowned.

  He didn’t.

  He did.

  I look all around me.

  ‘Dan.’ I try to get the words out, but it’s like they’re stuck in my throat.

  I wait for a reply, but all I can hear is the rush of the waves.

  Which way would he go? Right is Bognor Regis. Left is Eastbourne. Straight ahead is France. I think of the sketch he drew on the board. He had to have sailed left, away from the pier. I drop the shoe and sock and try to run, but the pebbles are turning my ankles and my legs are burning. I stop and look out, but all I can see is a mass of grey and the white tips of the waves. Then I spot some empty bottles and pieces of string washed up on the beach.

  No! This can’t be happening!

  My stomach starts to ache and I feel sick.

  I should have gone for help. I should have told Mr Francis that I knew where Dan was going.

  You’re a bad person. Your friend has drowned. You could have saved him, but you didn’t. It’s your fault!

  ‘Dan!’ I shout. ‘Dan!’

  The beach starts to tumble and turn like a washing machine.

  ‘Dan!’ I shout again. Then I feel my heart stop as a voice cuts through the mist.

  ‘What?’

  Dan: Lost and found

  Alex stumbles towards me through the mist. His trousers are soaking wet and water drips from his gloves.

  ‘I thought … I thought … I thought you’d drowned.’ Alex shivers. His eyes are so wide they look like they’re going to pop out of his face.

  ‘No. I’m okay.’ I look at Shooting Star. Her base has pulled apart and the buoys are lying beside her on the pebbles. ‘I didn’t even get on her before she started to sink.’

  Alex looks at Shooting Star and gasps as he tries to get his breath back.

  ‘Did you really … Did you … I was really worried.’ His face is scrunched up like he’s in pain.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I just had to get away, but then—’

  ‘Then you remembered you’d forgotten these?’ He lifts up the life jackets.

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Sort of?’

  ‘I remembered I can’t swim.’

  ‘You idiot!’ Alex gulps, then drops the life jackets on the ground.

  ‘I’m joking.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I am.’

  Alex looks relieved. I feel bad for making him worry.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘How did you know I’d be here?’

  Alex shrugs. ‘Just did. Sophie said you shouted out that Ben wasn’t coming home.’

  ‘I did. She was winding me up. She’s so spiteful and annoying.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ Alex goes quiet. Then he nods at Shooting Star.

  ‘I told you she wasn’t ready.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You were really lucky.’

  ‘I know that too.’ I look up at him. He’s still mad with me, but it looks like he really was worried. I should thank him for running to the seafront. But I can’t think of the right words.

  ‘What?’ he asks.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Then why are you looking at me like that?’ He blinks.

  ‘I’m not looking like anything. I’m just cold.’

  ‘Me too.’ He walks round Shooting Star, checks the ropes and the bottles.

  ‘We’ve lost a few bundles here,’ Alex says. ‘And the buoys have broken away.’

  ‘I know.’

  I wait for him to say something else, but he just keeps looking at Shooting Star. I pick up a handful of pebbles and let them fall through my fingers.

  ‘Did you really think you could get there?’ he asks.

  I take a deep breath. ‘No. But I wanted to. When I ran out of school, I really thought I was going to do it, but by the time I’d dragged Shooting Star into the water I knew it was a bad idea.’

  ‘Because you forgot the life jackets.’

  ‘Yeah … and Jeff!’ I laugh and hope Alex will too, but he just shakes his head. I feel silly about what I’ve done. But I couldn’t stop myself. Alex wraps his arms round his body. He’s shaking like mad, but he hasn’t been right in the water like me. I can’t believe what he’s done though. He’s run out of school, all the way here. He would’ve had to cross roads, press the button on the crossings, run along the pavements with dog poo and with seagulls all around him. Sophie and the Georges don’t have any of those worries, and they wouldn’t have ever done anything like that. No one has done anything like that for me, not even Ben. I want to say thank you, but he’s staring at the waves and biting down on his lip like he does when he’s thinking in class. I throw pebbles into the water.

  Alex turns round. ‘What’s happened with Ben?’

  ‘He got in a fight. Dad said he might not be home for at least a month, maybe two, or even longer. I don’t know.’

  ‘Maybe it’ll only be another week, like when the headmaster suspended that boy in Year Ten for stealing.’

  ‘Maybe.’ I nod. Alex is trying to cheer me up, but I think it will be longer than a week. Ben isn’t at school. He’s in an STC. The guards are in charge, not a headmaster. I think of
Ben waiting in the Visitors’ Room. Mum and Dad must have got there by now. They’ll be talking to Mike Ashton and he’ll be telling them what Ben did that means he can’t come home yet. I hope it’s not really bad.

  I take a deep breath, then another. I don’t want to get angry any more. I don’t want to cry. I just want Ben to come home.

  Alex wipes a plank with his glove, then sits down beside me.

  ‘It’s okay.’ He taps Shooting Star. ‘We’ll rebuild her.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Yeah … Maybe we needed more time anyway. We’ll get more bottles and new wood, and we’ll tie them tighter and this time we’ll make sure we fix buoys on the corners. And then we won’t go on it until Ben comes home.’

  I chuckle. ‘Yeah, and we’ll get another life jacket for Jeff in case he falls off.’

  Alex smiles. ‘And we need another seat.’

  ‘Yeah. We do.’

  He smiles, then looks at the sea. ‘I hope Ben won’t be in there much longer.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Me too.’

  Alex: Endgame

  I’m in the canteen, eating my sandwiches. Elliott is sitting three chairs away from me.

  ‘Everyone knows,’ he says. ‘Did you really run to the seafront and save him? Harry said you stole one of the hire boats and went crashing through the waves like James Bond.’

  I shake my head. ‘No, that’s not what happened.’

  ‘But you did save him?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Harry said it’d be just like Dan to get rescued, but still keep picking on you.’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t think he will.’

  ‘Hope not … Did you see Police Interceptors last night?’

  ‘No.’ I shake my head. I’m too busy thinking about Dan to talk about Police Interceptors.

  ‘You should’ve. They chased a Range Rover at a hundred and twenty miles an hour for ages, then it hit a roundabout and flipped over ten times. It was brilliant. Watch it on catch-up.’

  I take a bite of my sandwich and look round the canteen for Dan. I can’t spot him but I can spot everyone staring at me. Elliott’s right. Everybody in school seems to know what happened. It’s like they’re all waiting for me to give them the details. Elliott leans towards me.