Just Call Me Spaghetti-Hoop Boy

by Lara Williamson

  This is your mother, I say inside my head. You can’t be scared of your mother, you spanner.

  Without warning, the door swings open.

  There’s such a whoosh inside my body it feels like I’ve trapped lightning in a bottle and stashed it in my stomach. Stars suddenly glitter in front of my eyes and I blink so much I swear my eyelids think they’re getting a surprise workout. A woman looks at me and I look at her and it feels like I might collapse at her feet like an unconscious octopus. Eventually I see her mouth move and I think she’s said “Hello”, but I’m so happy she’s speaking to me that I forget I’m supposed to answer back.

  “Hello, can I help you?”

  My mother is amazing – not only can she speak, but she says more than one word. I know I’m gaping but I can’t help myself, because I’m thinking about all the birthdays when I wondered who my real mother was, and now I’m looking at her. She’s got a bob and her hair is the same copper colour as mine. And she has conker eyes.

  “Your hair is like the finest spun copper thread,” I mumble, thinking aloud. Rose tilts her head and her brow furrows and I cough, trying to pretend I didn’t say something so stupid. As I lean in closer for a better look, Rose leans back, only a tiny bit, but I sense it. Suddenly I’m annoyed she doesn’t recognize me. She should know I’m her son instantly.

  Rose clearly doesn’t, because she asks what I want.

  I want a home with my real mother, I’m screaming inside, but on the outside I say, “You sent me the text and I’ve been looking for you. I’ve texted you lots of times.”

  “What text?” Rose looks at me and she’s confused. “I didn’t get any texts on my phone. That’s strange.” Finally she smiles and I can tell she’s recognized me and this is it, she’s about to say she’s happy to see me. “Oh, you’re here for charity. You’re collecting, aren’t you? I’ll go and get my purse.” I tell her I don’t want money and then she asks if I’ve come to the wrong house. “My neighbour has a boy about your age, maybe you want them.”

  “No, I want you,” I say quietly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Are you Rose Walker?”

  She says, “Yes, that’s me.”

  Somehow this isn’t going exactly how I imagined it. I thought our eyes would lock and she’d know who I was and welcome me with a hug. It’s up to me to say it and I clear my throat and inhale. “My name is Ace.”

  There’s an awkward silence as Rose repeats, “Ace?” There’s a tiny flicker in her dark eyes and then she smiles brightly. “I don’t think I know anyone by that name.”

  I feel her move to close the door, so I say my name louder: “I’m Ace. Your Ace. You must know me,” I say, more quietly now. “Look at me closer.” Rose stares at the bobble hat I’m wearing and for a second I think about taking it off to show her we’ve got the same hair colour but I don’t. At this moment I need my security blanket, as Mum calls it. I want to feel safe. Rose shakes her head, until I say quietly, “I’m your son.”

  In movies, this is the bit where the world goes into slow motion and the two people smile at each other and maybe they’re distant to start with but then they run through a meadow towards the other person. And they throw their arms out and they’re just about to meet and that’s when your heart feels like it’s going to soar…

  Unfortunately Rose doesn’t watch the same movies as me, because she leans out and grabs me by the elbow. The thread of my daydream snaps. However, I don’t mind, because now I’m inside the blue house. I’m in my real mother’s world and it feels incredible to be here. The hallway is bigger than our whole living room. Looking down it, I can see a brilliant white kitchen and out into the garden all the way to the pigeon-coloured summer house, and I want to go out there and sit in a chair, reading my favourite comics. The dog I heard earlier appears and snoops around my feet, sniffing my leg.

  “Stop, Bonbon,” says Rose. She slowly runs her fingers through her razor-sharp bob. “I don’t know where you’ve come from or how you got this address, but you shouldn’t be here. People might have seen you.”

  At first I’m confused – what difference does it make if anyone saw me?

  “How did you find me?”

  I glance down and see that Rose’s huge diamond ring is throwing a tiny rainbow across me. It makes me think of Mum and I wish she was here to help me say the right words. Mum always has the right words. When I explain I put a poster in Sharkey’s window, she says she knows the place because she occasionally picks up an interior design magazine there.

  I’m trying to think of things to say to fill the silence and I suddenly blurt out, “I’m a superhero.” Rose blinks, which isn’t the reaction I wanted. I try to explain it to her: “You called me Ace and I thought that sounded like a superhero’s name and I thought how superheroes make everyone happy and I wanted to do that.” I don’t mention how I wanted to make Mum happiest of all. This doesn’t seem the right time. I swallow. “I even saved someone’s life.”

  I thought this would sound more spectacular than it does. If I told Mum and Dad I’d saved someone’s life, I’d be swallowed up by hugs and kisses and Mum would be straight on the phone to the whole family, and then she’d ring the paper herself to say that her son was the best son in the universe. Instead, Rose says, “That’s nice,” and she adds that my mother must be proud.

  I want to scream: YOU ARE MY MOTHER. I WANT YOU TO BE PROUD.

  Rose softens and says, “This is complicated and I’m not sure what to say. I wasn’t expecting you to come here. You’re not supposed to be doing this. Does your mother know where you are?”

  I shake my head. The words You are my mother keep going around my head like they’re on a carousel. “I found my birth certificate in a drawer where Mum keeps lots of keys. You see, Dad has a key-cutting business.” I know I’m coming up with more waffle than an American diner but I can’t help myself. “And they don’t know anything about it. But they’re busy anyway. Mum’s having a baby. It’s a boy.” Rose says it’ll be lovely for me to have a baby brother. “Do you have any other children?” I ask. I say “other” because I mean “other than me”.

  Rose dips her head. “My husband and I don’t have any children because we didn’t want any.”

  “Oh,” I manage.

  There’s an awkward pause. Rose looks really uncomfortable and I feel a wave of disappointment swell inside me. Slowly Rose reaches up and rubs her eye and then looks at me as if she’s got nothing else to add. But it can’t end here, not after everything I’ve done to find her. I mumble something about how much I wanted to connect with her and how I’ve got questions that need to be answered. I say I can’t leave until they are. There’s a tiny twitch in Rose’s right eyelid. With a sigh she asks me what the questions are and I inhale.

  Why did you abandon me?

  Why didn’t you take me back?

  Who is my dad?

  Why did you call me Ace?

  Did you love me?

  I ask the first question and Rose replies, “I’m not sure I’d say ‘abandon’. I did what I felt was best for us both.” I mutter that I think leaving a baby at the swimming pool is kind of “abandoning”. Rose’s eyes narrow slightly and she shakes her head and I get the feeling she’s not going to discuss it further because she repeats she thought it was for the best. When I ask why she didn’t keep me in the first place, Rose says, “I was young and alone and I tried to be a decent parent for a few weeks but it was terrible and I knew you’d have a good life without me. I’m afraid your father is long gone. He didn’t want to know.” That’s question three answered without me even asking it. Whoever my dad was, he’s not here now.

  So I’m straight in with question four: “Why did you call me Ace?”

  Two tiny circles of red build on Rose’s cheeks. “When I was pregnant I lived near a shop. I’d go into the shop and buy spaghetti hoops.”

  “Was there a hero in the shop?” I’m a bit confused, but I must be named after a hero who saved the shop
from a burglary or something. My stomach is a windmill. What’s even better is that my real mother loves spaghetti hoops as much as me! I can’t get the words out fast enough. “I love spaghetti hoops too,” I squeak before she can explain any further.

  Rose nods and then continues, “I’d go into the shop all the time, like I said. And it was because I craved spaghetti hoops.” I tell Rose I know about cravings because I’ve watched Mum’s baby programmes. “Yes, so as I was saying, I didn’t eat much else.” I’m not sure I understand yet what this has got to do with my name. “You asked me why you were called Ace…well, that was the name of the shop. It was called ACE, short for Alec’s Cavern of Everything. I thought it would do as a name.”

  “The name of a shop?” I blink. “Where you got your spaghetti hoops? The shop was called ACE?”

  It takes a second…

  Phoom!

  It feels like a kick in the guts from a wallaby when I register that Ace is not a superhero name at all. I was never destined to be excellent. I was named after a shop that sold spaghetti hoops. All I can think is that I’m like a spaghetti hoop – nothing special, just one hoop in a whole can of hoops; one hoop that you can’t tell from another.

  I’m almost dizzy with shock and Rose is staring at me and she says they were nice spaghetti hoops, if that helps. It doesn’t help when she adds that she’s never eaten them since because she got so sick of them after eating so many.

  Bonbon barks and Rose bends down and picks him up, cradling him and smothering him with tiny kisses. He snuggles into the crook of her arm and Rose coos, “Oh, baby. Did you miss your mummy when you were in the garden?” I blink back my envy. How come the dog’s getting kisses and cuddles? Why is she calling the dog her baby and herself its mummy? She hasn’t said that about me yet and I am her baby and she is my mummy. I can’t believe I feel this way about a dog.

  The phone rings and Rose looks at it and then at me and then back at the phone, which doesn’t stop ringing, and she eventually picks it up and says, “Hello.”

  There’s silence and I don’t know what’s being said on the other end.

  “Sorry, someone’s just come to the door.”

  Silence hangs over us again. I swallow, thinking Rose is going to tell the person that I’m standing here. She’ll say her son is standing in front of her.

  “Oh, it’s no one.”

  No one. Did Rose say I was no one? Surely she didn’t mean it. I stare at her as she makes smacking kissy noises down the phone and then says, “Bye, see you later,” before hanging up.

  Rose says her husband will be home soon. I put my hands in my pockets and somehow it doesn’t seem like the right time to ask Rose if I can come and live here with her and her husband, a man who isn’t even my dad.

  It is obvious Rose is ready for me to go as she’s edging nearer to the door, so I quickly blurt out that I’m working on a Forest For Ever school project about my family tree. Shyly I say, “On our family tree.” Bonbon skitters down the hallway and into the kitchen and Rose’s eyes follow him. “We’re having an exhibition on Tuesday – would you come and see my tree, please? Please…” I can hear myself pleading and Rose is awkwardly shuffling, but she’s making all the right noises about the project sounding fascinating. I pull the ticket from my school bag and hand it to her. “We could be on the front page of the Pegasus Park Packet if our story is the best. And I could come and get you that evening of the exhibition to take you there.”

  “Right,” says Rose, looking at the invite. “You mean this coming Tuesday?” When I tell her yes, she nods and smiles. “I’ll see what I can do,” she adds.

  “I’ll come and get you anyway,” I say. “I don’t want you to get lost finding the school.”

  I grin as Rose pushes me towards the door. She smells of coconut and I imagine she’s like an expensive tropical island – not that I know what that smells like, because Mum and Dad always take us on camping holidays. I want to hug her goodbye but it doesn’t feel right. Instead I reach out my hand to shake hers. But my hand is covered in silver glitter – I see it glint – so I pull it back again quickly. Then before I know what’s happened I’m back out on the street and the door has closed behind me, without time for a hug or a handshake or anything.

  As I walk down the pathway I have a sudden urge to see my mother again. I run back and push my finger against the doorbell. Bonbon barks and Rose opens the front door and I pull off my bobble hat, letting loose a shock of red hair the exact same colour as Rose’s. I hand my hat to Rose, telling her to look after it for me until Tuesday evening.

  “I’ll get it back then,” I explain. As Rose takes the bobble hat, looking a little confused, I tell her it’s important and that I’d never give it away unless the person was really special to me. Rose frowns and stares at it as if I’ve handed her a burst balloon. One hand moves to her temple and she rubs her head. She tries to give me a smile but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I stare at her. This is your mother, I tell myself. My stomach flips over. I glance up at the house. This is going to be your new home on Tuesday, I add.

  Suddenly I think of 53 Pegasus Park Towers and Mum. I didn’t mean to think of her but she pops into my head. She’ll be at home now, making dinner. It’ll be something good for us and it’ll taste horrible, but Mum will tell us she’s keeping us healthy. Velvet will be playing with Sausage Roll and Minnie will be talking about “damned spots” which are mentioned in the Scottish play.

  I snap back to myself when Rose says she’s got to go because her husband will be home soon and they’re going out to dinner with friends. There’s an edge to her voice and it feels like she’s in a mega hurry. With the most cheerful wave I can muster, I walk down the path again. When I glance back once more, hoping to give Rose a final smile, she’s already gone. She’ll keep my bobble hat safe though, I convince myself. She’s my mother and she understands me. Mothers always understand their children, don’t they?

  As I wander down the street, I realize three things. The first thing is: if Rose didn’t text me then who did? And the second thing is that I forgot to ask Rose: Did you love me? Then I think, Of course she did. The third thing is that glitter sticks to your hands like concrete.

  “What happened to you?” squeals Minnie as I open the flat door. “Where’s your hat?”

  Mum joins us in the hallway and Velvet too and they’re all looking at me like I’m an alien who has just landed their spaceship at 53 Pegasus Park Towers. Mum says it’s nice to see my hair for a change and she asks where the hat is and I say I let someone borrow it. “Someone at school?” asks Mum. I shrug and avoid answering, which is easy because Velvet is interrupting and asking if she can touch my hair, like she’s never felt hair before.

  “It’s soft,” says Velvet, giving my locks a tug. “Like Sausage Roll’s fur.”

  “I’m getting my hat back,” I add quickly, comforting myself. “I just let the person borrow it, not have it for keeps. No way can they have it for keeps. But they’re special, they’ll look after it.”

  Minnie says I’ve actually got a normal-sized head when she was sure it was the size of a pea under there. Mum tells her to shush and I tell her to butt out of my business.

  “I’m not a goat,” says Minnie.

  Minnie can’t spoil this moment for me though. My real mother will come to my Forest For Ever exhibition next week. I’m going to go and pick her up to take her there. She was interested in it, I know she was. And I know seeing me on her doorstep was a big shock, because she wasn’t expecting me – I understand, it’s been eleven years. But she’s going to come to the exhibition and then I’ll move in with her and Bonbon and, bit by bit, it’ll be perfect.

  “Goats can’t be the Lady in the Scottish play,” adds Minnie and she begins talking about spots and then she says this is going to be the performance of a lifetime. “Just you wait until Tuesday – then I’ll be worthy of an Oscar, or putting my hands in concrete on Hollywood Boulevard.”

  “Is that wh
ere they’re re-concreting the pavement around Hollywood Parade, near Pegasus Park High Street?” Mum manages a little smile. “You don’t want to put your hands in that.”

  Ignoring her, Minnie continues, “Just make sure you don’t applaud Callum. He’s dead to me.”

  “If he’s Macbeth he’s dead to everyone, I think,” adds Mum. Then Mum’s going on about what a fabulous family outing it will be. Yeah, witches and murder – seems like a great evening out to me, I tell myself. We could eat healthy popcorn while we watch the slayings.

  “You can’t get out of this,” says Minnie, squinting at me. “I need all the applause I can get.”

  “What if I’ve got a bellyache?” I say cautiously.

  “It doesn’t stop your bum sitting on a chair,” replies Minnie. She thinks for a second and shakes her head. “If you need the toilet, they’re right beside the stage.” When I say I might have a headache, she says she’ll give me a headache soon, because she’s going to bop me on it, with a plank. “You’re coming,” says Minnie finally, her eyes bulging like two tightly squeezed hard-boiled eggs. “Everyone in this flat is.”

  “Sausage Roll?” Velvet grins.

  “If that dog barks in the middle of my performance I’ll personally find him and take away his rubber dog toys.”

  Velvet shakes her head and says Sausage Roll is going to stay at home.

  That evening my mind is all over the place and I keep thinking about Rose and her red hair and how she used to eat spaghetti hoops. Everything is so muddled I can’t even concentrate on watching TV and when Minnie turns it over to her model programme I don’t argue.

  Minnie’s phone bleeps and she looks down and tuts before staring back at the TV. “They didn’t stick out their booty either,” shouts Minnie. “Knock off another point.” The phone bleeps again and Minnie looks at it. “Oh, shut up, Callum. I gave you another chance and you’re still getting texts from Sienna and then denying it.” There’s another bleep and Minnie says it’s Sienna and she’s not going to text her back. She throws down the phone in disgust – but when I glance over at her, her eyes are glittering like crystals. The phone bleeps again and Minnie says, “Ignoring you and ignoring your stupid texts.” Then she stops ignoring and begins texting.