by Ian Somers
‘Come in,’ I said.
‘I’m going out for a few hours,’ he said as he entered cautiously. ‘I thought I’d look around for some work again. Guess I’ve gotten into a rut these last few weeks.’
‘Dad, I didn’t mean most of what I said last night. I know you try your best to get work.’
‘Haven’t been trying very hard lately though.’
‘Can’t say I blame you; how many times have you been told “Your application has been unsuccessful”?’
‘I’ve lost count.’
As he moved closer I clicked the backspace button on the laptop, I didn’t want him seeing the Million Dollar Gift video. My internet explorer immediately jumped back a page and a free runner video started playing.
‘So, this is how you spend your time,’ he said, ‘looking at these crazy clips.’
‘They’re not so crazy.’
‘Looks insane to me. People jumping off walls.’
‘It’s called free running. It’s a very popular sport.’
‘Good wages in a sport like that?’
‘I don’t want to get into that conversation again.’
‘Neither do I. It does look dangerous, Ross. You could break your neck doing stunts like that.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Oh, so you’re special in some way?’
‘You have no idea …’
‘Everyone thinks they’re special until they realise how vulnerable they really are.’
I was about to reply with a smart remark, but then thought about our conversation the night before and how that had ended up. I simply shrugged my shoulders and remained silent.
‘Well, I’d best get a move on,’ Dad said as he examined the clock by the window. ‘Are you in work today?’
I glanced at the clock on the window sill. It was already 9.05 and I was running late. ‘I am, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.’
‘Right. Have a good day,’ he said as he left the room.
‘You too,’ I hollered after him, ‘and good luck.’
It had been the most civilised conversation we’d had in years. I figured we were both beginning to regret the long silence that had sucked the life out of the house. Maybe things were starting to change. Maybe the tough times were at an end. If only I’d explained to him why I turned down Manchester United … things could have been so different. If only Mam had been around, she would have smoothed things over. She always did that. Maybe I wouldn’t be hiding my powers if she were still alive; I don’t think I would’ve been able to hide it from her, or have wanted to hide it from her.
I turned off the laptop. I’d return to the Million Dollar Gift when I finished my shift at Delaney’s.
CHAPTER FIVE -
Living The Dream
I left the supermarket at 7pm and rolled home at a snail’s pace. The job often left me drained and it just seemed to get worse each day. As I neared Dullbrook Place, the local gang started shouting at me from across the street, but I didn’t react this time. I hadn’t the energy to use my gift like I had the night before. I thumbed my earphones into my ears and listened to some upbeat tunes. I thought it might liven me up, but I remained zombie-like as I made my way home.
When I got inside the house I staggering up the staircase, dragging my backpack and skateboard behind me. My eyes were almost shut and my feet felt like lead.
‘That you?’
‘What’s left of me.’
‘Tough day?’
‘You could say that.’
‘You want me to make you some food?’
‘No, I couldn’t handle being poisoned right now!’
I heard him laughing as I pushed open my bedroom door; at least I’d brought a bit of cheer to someone’s day.
I fell face first onto my bed and shouted, ‘I need a holiday!’ into the pillow. ‘A very long holiday in a place where there aren’t any supermarkets! The Sahara, Greenland, even outer Mongolia will do.’
Exhaustion soon got the better of me and I nodded off into a deep, dead sleep that lasted over four hours. When I woke I knew I’d be up half the night with nothing to do but think about the contest. This would be a dangerous time. It always was when I got to thinking, because my thinking usually turned into scheming and my schemes usually led to trouble.
I left the room and traipsed downstairs to make some food. Dad had already gone to bed and the house was unbearably quiet. I imagined how quiet the place would be if I left for London, how empty and haunted it would seem. How alone and isolated would Dad be when I eventually left the nest? I felt sorry for him in many ways, he never really got over Mam’s death and I guess he was the only thing keeping me from leaving Dullbrook and entering The Million Dollar Gift. I couldn’t blame him for not being the same person after she passed away. They were very close and my mother was a really special person. My life would have been so different if she’d still been around. She always knew what to say, no matter how hard things got, she would throw her arm around my shoulder and say something inspiring. I missed her so much. I remember Dad saying at the funeral that only two things outweighed his grief: the love he still felt for her and the sense of luck that he’d gotten to spend twenty years of his life with her. At least he had memories. I sometimes wondered if I would have similar luck; to meet a really special girl who loved me no matter what.
Dad was the only obstacle. What could I tell him, though? How could I make him understand?
A crafty plan entered my mind, but it was risky. I surprised myself by even considering it. Could I really go through with it? I contemplated going upstairs and waking him, but thought it would be best left until morning. I’d put my plan into action if I still had the guts when I woke up.
I took a hot cup of tea to my room and went online to do some research on the contest. There were very few facts, most of what was going on was being kept under wraps but there were some photographs of a queue stretching from the Golding Plaza Hotel’s front entrance to the corner, which was about a kilometre away.
There was one confirmed detail on the official website: We have yet to find a winner. I still had a chance at that million dollars, but if I wanted to take that chance I’d have to make a decision soon; there were only a few days left and I had a lot to organise if I was going to leave. I’d need money, but I didn’t get paid until the end of the month, which would be too late.
I reached under the bed and pulled an out old shoebox. Inside were my meagre savings: two hundred euro in small notes. I went online and checked for flights to London, but I’d left it too late; every flight was booked solid. I would just have to make the journey by boat and bus, which wasn’t a very exciting prospect.
I looked at the pitiful bundle of notes. What was I doing? It was ridiculous! I was actually considering it? I’d be a laughing stock if anyone found out I was entering the biggest freak show in the world! I got enough flak as it was.
I stuffed the money back into the shoebox and kicked it under the bed. I needed to get my head out of the clouds. I was only giving myself false hope.
As I took my uniform out of the wardrobe for the next day, I glanced at a poster pinned to the inside of the door. It was an old poster of a Tony Hawks video game. It used to be my favourite game.
If I won that contest they might make a Ross Bentley video game. I smiled and thought about a digital version of me skating and leaping from the rooftops of one building to another. Kids asking for my autograph. Girls asking for my autograph … My smile grew wider. Within seconds I’d retrieved the shoebox and was counting through the loose notes once more.
I’d finally made up my mind. I was going to take the chance and enter the contest.
I awoke with a start to the sound of my alarm clock. I instinctively swiped my hand at the clock and it flew off the windowsill and hit the wall on the opposite side of the room.
‘I need to be more careful with this thing,’ I said, staring at my hand.
Most mornings I just thought about the alarm turning off and it did.
Sometimes I clicked my fingers at it, but now I was realising that swiping my hand to channel energy made the gift much more effective, if a little unpredictable.
I had woken up in a determined mood. This was the day that I was going to start living the dream, and so I leaped out of bed and got dressed then headed for the kitchen where Dad spent each morning. I’d waited a long time to do this and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.
‘You’re up bright and early,’ Dad said as I strode confidently into the kitchen. ‘What has you so sprightly?’
‘You fancy a kick-about in the back garden before you leave?’
He almost choked on his Weetabix. ‘You want to play football with me? In the back garden? Now?’
‘Yeah.’ I ducked out of the room and returned a moment later with a leather ball under my arm. ‘Come on.’
‘Aren’t you a bit old for a kick-about with your Dad?’
‘Can you ever be too old?’
‘I guess not.’
‘Just for five minutes.’
‘I don’t think so, Ross.’
He slowly rose from the kitchen table, took his bowl and cup to the sink then headed for the hallway. I felt totally deflated and dropped the ball on the kitchen tiles. My plan was already falling apart.
He paused in the doorway and looked back at me. For a long moment we watched each other before he cracked a smile and said, ‘Go on. Five minutes.’
I laughed then picked the ball up and moved to the back garden with Dad in tow, chuckling to himself and continually shaking his head at how absurd the situation seemed. I paced to the back of the garden and he stayed near the house.
I started the game by kicking a simple pass and Dad flipped the ball up and volleyed it back (he’d been quite a player in his younger years). We passed it back and forth for a few minutes without sharing a word. We were simply enjoying a game that we’d played so many times in the past.
Dad eventually broke the silence. ‘I haven’t seen you kick a football in years, lad. I used to love watching you play. You were such a good footballer.’
‘Did you ever think I was too good?’
‘I thought you were the best I’d ever seen. I couldn’t understand how you could give it up so easily.’
‘It wasn’t easy.’
‘Why did you quit? It’s been gnawing at me for such a long time. I know you think I was just concerned about money, but I was more worried because you’d lost your ambition. You’d always been a bit of a loner and I didn’t want to see you become more isolated. I just want to know your reason for quitting. I’m not going to judge you. And for once in our lives let’s not make this about money.’
I took my time answering. It was the most difficult question I’d ever been asked. It was so hard to explain, and so much pressure had been built on me turning my back on soccer.
‘I can’t really tell you,’ I eventually said, ‘but I can show you.’
I kicked the ball, gently, and it rolled along the lawn. It began to spin and before it reached Dad’s toe it changed direction and came back to me. I stood on the ball once more.
My dad couldn’t quite grasp what he’d just seen. ‘How did you…?’
‘It wasn’t a fluke,’ I told him. ‘I’ll show you again.’
I kicked the ball a little harder this time. It rolled quickly over the lawn then bounced up over his head, smacked the patio doors then moved at incredible speed though his feet and eventually settled under my heel.
He was dumbfounded. ‘How…?’
‘I couldn’t play anymore, Dad. It wasn’t fair on the other players.’
‘But—’
‘Do you understand? It’s not just with a football.’
I pointed towards the house and a hanging basket began to spin faster and faster until its chain snapped and it crashed to the ground. ‘Do you understand now?’
‘I don’t believe it…’
‘Believe it, Dad. It’s real.’
I pointed at another hanging basket and performed the same trick then made the washing line loop round and round like a skipping rope.
‘I can move things without touching them. I just have to think of an object moving and it does.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Dad asked when he caught his breath, and when everything in the garden stopped moving around.
I crossed the garden and stood in front of him.
‘I didn’t tell you because I knew it had been your dream to play for Manchester United when you were young. But you put the hopes of achieving that dream on my shoulders when I started playing football. I didn’t want to let you down, but I couldn’t go through with it either. I’m not a cheat. I’m real!’
‘When did you discover this talent?’
‘It appeared in me just after Mam died. I was alone in my room after the funeral and I got real angry. Objects started breaking apart and others simply floated around me. At first I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure what to think about it. You weren’t really acting very normal, and you weren’t really listening to me either, so I kept it to myself and over time it became my secret. It was something no one could know about.
‘Then I discovered I could use this gift when I was playing soccer and that excited me at first, but over time I became ashamed of what I was doing. The look in the other players’ eyes when I scored always made me feel guilty. I couldn’t pretend to be just another normal player who happened to score fantastic goals all the time. I couldn’t live a lie and I’m sick of hiding all this from everyone. I’m not a child anymore and I have to face up to it and use this gift for something more than putting a ball into a net or making a skateboard move at a hundred miles an hour.’
‘You move your skateboard at a hundred miles per hour? Do you realise how dangerous that is?’
‘Not while I’m on it…’ I lied. ‘I’d have to be nuts to do that…’
He reached out and hugged me for the first time in many years.
‘I’m sorry, Dad.’
‘Don’t apologise, lad. I’m the one who was in the wrong.’ He squeezed my shoulders then leaned back and looked me in the eye. ‘Why are you telling me this all of a sudden? Has something changed?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Well, here’s the thing… There’s a video I want you to see.’
I felt like a different person when I arrived at work that day. The old Ross was gone. The new Ross had arrived. I was going to live the dream.
The morning seemed to pass quickly and before I knew it, I was on my lunch break.
I spent it sitting at the back of the building with the sun on my face. I hadn’t been so at ease in years; I felt confident, calm, excited and powerful all at the same time. I felt so complete that I could have moved a mountain with a hand gesture.
Eventually Gemma appeared from the storeroom and sat on the wall next to me. She was about to say something, but the words never left her mouth. She was staring into the yard in disbelief.
‘What the hell is going on?’ she breathed.
In the corner of the yard there were two large metal recycling bins. It was my job to empty rubbish into them each day, but I always left a lot of paper and cardboard cartons strewn across the yard. Gemma and I sat there watching the loose rubbish slowly swirling off the ground and into the air as if each piece had a life of its own. The rubbish formed a skeletal column twenty feet tall that rotated very slowly.
‘How is this happening?’ Gemma gasped. ‘There’s no wind, not even a breeze.’
The column began to waver and then collapsed, leaving the loose rubbish to float around the yard.
‘That was so weird,’ Gemma said as she watched the paper falling to the ground.
‘The world is a weird place,’ I replied. ‘Hey, if you had a chance to live your dream, would you take the chance no matter how much risk was involved?’
‘Honestly, I don’t think my dreams require me take any major risks.’
‘Let me put it this way: if you had a
dream and there was only one chance at achieving it, would you take it, even if it meant there was a lot of risk involved?’
‘Theoretically—’
‘Come on, Gemma!’
‘Yes. I would go for it and I wouldn’t let anything get in my way. But what are we talking about here? Really?’
‘It’s hard to explain.’
‘Being secretive again, are we?’ Gemma rolled her eyes and turned away. ‘You’re always so secretive, Ross. Too secretive!’
‘I’m not being secretive. In fact, I’m being open and honest for once in my life. I’m gonna live the dream, Gemma.’
‘What are you on about?’
‘Do you think people should live life without regret?’
‘Of course.’
I was going to live my life without regret; I was going to do all the things I wanted to do.
‘I’m not going to regret doing this,’ I said before I stood and paced purposely towards the supermarket. ‘I’m definitely not going to regret this.’
I passed through the store room and unloaded my locker then strode onto the supermarket floor. I pulled the tie from my collar and held it tightly in my hand.
When I reached to the tills I saw Reynolds glowering at me. ‘Bentley! What have I told you about wearing your tie while on the floor?’
I threw the tie at him, ‘You wear it because I’ve had enough of listening to you and I’ve certainly had enough of this goddamn job, it’s almost as bad as your moustache!’
The entire staff and all the customers sniggered as I walked paced through the doors. Reynolds just stood there as if he’d seen a ghost. His face was white and he put his hand over his moustache. He spun round to the girls at the tills and hissed at them, ‘Get back to work!’
But everyone continued laughing, even the little kids who were standing with their parents pointed at his fuzzy upper lip and giggled.
I dropped my skateboard in front of me and rolled through the car park towards the street. With a sweep of my hand I sent hundreds of trolleys spreading out across the car park in different directions. It was one last parting shot at Reynolds for being so mean to me; it would take him over an hour to round up so many trolleys.
