How To Be a Boy

by Tony Bradman

  Adan yelled out, “Ti!” Then they were on him. Adan sprinted forward like a cheetah and hurled himself across their backs as they lunged forward. For a moment it was as if he was swimming – all limbs thrashing against the weapons in their hands.

  A police siren sent them scattering. Voices bellowed, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

  Adan and Ti lay on the grass side by side, panting; alive. Boots raced past them, up the three flights of stairs. A hammering on a door. “Open up! Police!” They heard the door smashed in.

  And still they lay motionless on the grass. The boots came down again, among them a man’s bare black feet; a muttering of words like hailstones: passport, papers, proof of identity. Adan looked up and saw Uncle, his eyes as dead as dried-up wells. They glimmered briefly as he looked down on him, before the police pressed him into the car.

  “You’d better come home with me,” said Ti.

  Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.

  DEAR TADPOLE

  Katie Dale

  DEAR TADPOLE,

  I feel like a right moron emailing someone who’s not even born yet – let alone able to go online & read emails – but Mum thinks it’ll help us “bond” & she’s bought me this iPhone, so … here goes.

  Right, 1st things 1st – here’s some ammo on Mum & Mandy (handy during negotiations for money/parties/alcohol, etc.).

  Mum’s weakness is the waterworks. I’m not proud of it – it’s not manly – but when you’re in really deep shit, the tweezers/leg-hair manoeuvre is definitely the weapon of choice: transforms raging beast into teddy bear in two tears flat. Result.

  Mandy’s a harder sell – she doesn’t buy mushy stuff – but FYI she hates housework. So if U need anything, just offer to do her chores – she can’t resist.

  If all else fails, there’s always the “You two ruined my life!” approach – that always works. Yeah, it’s a bit harsh – they can’t help loving each other, blah blah blah – but it’s scored me a laptop, Nintendo Wii and tickets to Razorlight. You can’t argue with results.

  I’m expecting Jerry Springer any day now.

  — — —

  OK, guess I should tell U about myself.

  I’m 15, five foot seven, spiky hair (cut by Mum – be warned) & – between U & me – I’m still a virgin.

  I don’t know why it’s such a big deal – everyone’s always bragging about what they’ve done, who with & marks out of 10, but I reckon it’s all bull. I’m pretty sure none of my mates have— Oh wait, I should introduce them…

  There’s Charlie – techno-maestro.

  Belch – Leicester City fan.

  And Kevin – well … judge for yourself…

  Bus shelter, today:

  Belch: So, Dave – you getting a sister or a bro?

  Kevin: Duh – a sister!

  (Pause)

  What? They’re both women – it has to be!

  Nuff said.

  Me: Knowing my luck, it will be. Another satanic female.

  Charlie: Suzy said no, then?

  Yes, Suzy said no.

  In front of the entire class.

  In fact, Suzy wet her knickers laughing – in front of the entire class – & then said no.

  I hate school discos.

  I hate Suzy.

  I hate girls – it’s impossible to get one alone, let alone ask her out & then… Humiliation.

  Belch: Don’t worry, mate. She’s just playing hard to get.

  Hard to Get or Not Interested? – How can u tell?

  Belch: You got a date yet, Charlie?

  Charlie: Yeah … Megan asked me…

  Me: Megan asked you?

  Charlie: Yeah … I think Ellie’s still free, tho.

  Me: Smelly Ellie?

  Kevin: Actually, she’s going with me.

  Kevin?

  Kevin’s got a date? Everyone’s got a date, but me?!

  Do I stink? Am I a minger? What?

  What if everyone else really is shagging like nympho-bunnies? – What if I’m the only virgin left at Oakley High?

  I mean – Kevin??!

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  Don’t do it! Save yourself! Stay in there, where no girl can ever rip your heart out and skewer it with her stilettos.

  The girl in question? No, not stupid Suzy – not even the same stratosphere.

  No, Kelly McHenry – school goddess & totally out of my league.

  Till today. Today, I actually thought I stood a chance. Today, she came over to me. Today … well, here’s what happened:

  Kelly: Hi David.

  Me: Um (swallow, blush) … all right?

  My heart: Thump! Thump! Thump! I love you!

  Kelly: How’re you doing?

  Try. to. find. words.

  Me: Mnfgud.

  Kelly: Good. So … about the disco… Have you asked anyone yet?

  Wait – is she asking me?

  Me: Um, no…

  Kelly: ’Cos I know someone who thinks you’re really fit…

  No. Way. Kelly McHenry thinks I’m fit?!

  Kelly: You interested?

  Hell, yeah!

  Me: OK.

  Kelly: Great! I’ll tell Johnny.

  ?!!*?!?*!!?

  Me: What?

  Kelly: Johnny Hudson – he’s a great guy.

  WTF?!

  Me: I’m not gay!

  Kelly: What?

  Me: I’m not! I’m not gay!

  Gazza pisses himself laughing, along with rest of school…

  Kelly: David, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.

  Me: I know! But I’m not! It’s not infectious, you know. Or hereditary. Or…

  And then I went off on one, right there in the street, throwing a total paddy right in front of Kelly McHenry.

  Torture at her sweet hands was the worst torture of all.

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  Is this why Suzy said no?

  Does everyone think I’m gay?

  I rang Charlie, but he was busy. Probably having a family day. They used to invite me along – brilliant days out ice-skating or bowling or watching old westerns with his perfect family…

  Bastard.

  I went to see Belch.

  Belch: Well, it’s not so much a gay thing…

  Me: Phew.

  Belch: More a girl thing.

  Me: What?

  Belch: Seriously, dude – it’s not like you go home, bench-press & watch Match of the Day, is it?

  Me: Well, no, but—

  Belch: And it’s your vibe, too, your aura, your— Dude, what’s that smell?

  Me: Kevin?

  Belch: No, it’s weird – flowery…

  Me: Oh – Mum got this new fabric softener—

  Belch: Lose it.

  Me: But it makes my clothes so soft—

  Belch: Dude.

  He’s right. I’m turning into a girl.

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  They’ve ruined my life. They’ve actually ruined my life.

  It’s their fault Suzy laughed in my face.

  It’s their fault everyone thinks I’m gay.

  It’s their fault I’m the only one in the whole school sat at home Saturday night because I couldn’t get a date.

  How am I supposed to know how to be a boy when I’ve got no dad & I live in a pink house?

  I mean, look at it! No wonder I’m screwed, there’s potpourri on the mantelpiece, Cosmo on the coffee-table, knickers hanging off every radiator & women sobbing over chick-flicks on the sofa!

  And why do women do that? Why deliberately watch something you know’ll upset you? OK, so Belch does it every time he watches Leicester City, but at least there’s a slim possibility of a happy ending there.

  But Titanic always sinks, Romeo & Juliet always die – so why torture yourself?

  Me: Can I watch Match of the Day?

  Mandy: You hate football!

  Mum: Shh. She’
s jumped off the lifeboat … she’s running back to him!

  Me: He’s gonna die.

  Mandy: So are you.

  Mum: Davey – you look stressed. How about a nice bubble-bath?

  AAARGHH!

  I hate my life.

  But why am I telling you? You’re probably a girl anyway.

  — — —

  You’re a boy! Get in!

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  OK, so – man to man – something’s really gotta be done. The women’s time is over. No more Brownies (don’t ask). No more bubble-baths. Mission Testosterone is a go.

  Phase 1: Mum’s got U listening to “soothing” (girly) music thru headphones clamped on her belly overnight, but don’t worry – I recorded over Mandy’s Enya CD with The Killers. Strike 1 for the boys!

  Phase 2: Your bedroom. Mum chose this soppy little-blue-bunny wallpaper but when U kicked her at the till, I switched it with this cool racing-car roll – and she didn’t even notice!

  Teamwork, bro.

  Phase 3:

  OK, we’ll come up with Phase 3 when U get here.

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  Went training with Belch today – weights, wisdom & (warm) beer:

  Belch: OK, what’s your best chat-up line?

  Me: What?

  Belch: You know – “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” – that kind of thing. Chicks love ’em.

  Me: OK…

  Belch: You gotta impress them. Look at Gazza… He wouldn’t be seen dead in that top.

  Me: Why? It’s M&S…

  Belch: Dude, come on!

  I asked Charlie for a second opinion.

  Charlie: Davey – how should I know? Get over it.

  His dad wasn’t home.

  The car was gone.

  His mum was crying in her bedroom.

  He put the stereo on loud and thrashed me 15 times at Street Fighter.

  — — —

  I spent today studying Gazza. He mooches around school, flashing his Calvins, pushing people and throwing spitballs.

  And that’s what Kelly goes for?

  Seriously, I don’t get it.

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  I’m staying with Belch.

  I told Mum tonight:

  Me: You’ve ruined my life.

  Mum: Davey!

  Me: You’ve turned me into a girl! I smell like flowers, I’ve never had a cold beer … and I hate football!

  Mandy: You want a beer? Bathroom needs cleaning…

  Me: Clean it yourself. I’ve had enough! Enough bubble-baths, chick-flicks, fabric softener—

  Mum: You like fabric softener!

  Me: I can’t live like this! I’m a boy, dammit!

  So here I am. At Belch’s. In the “Den”, surrounded by weights, trophies and stuffed (real) animals. I feel more manly already.

  And a little freaked out.

  Belch’s dad: So you’re having women-trouble, eh, David?

  Me: Well…

  Belch’s dad: Women are simple. You’ve just got to show ’em who’s boss. Cavemen knew that.

  Seriously – cavemen?

  Belch’s dad: You tell her where, you tell her when. Simple.

  Me: Right… What if she doesn’t show up?

  Belch’s dad: Think positive, boy! Carpe diem – seize the day! She’ll be putty in your hands.

  Belch’s mum: Peter! My book group’s here. Could you bring us some tea?

  Belch’s dad: In a minute, dear – I’m just—

  Belch’s mum: Now, Peter!

  Belch’s dad: Yes, dear.

  Caveman, my arse. I know who wears the trousers in this house.

  So we bring tea & custard creams to the clucking biddies.

  “Ooh, haven’t you grown!”

  “What gentlemen!”

  “Well, aren’t they boy scouts, bringing us tea?”

  “No, Carmel. This one’s more of a Brownie – look at the Gazette!”

  I freeze.

  Belch: Dude, is that you?

  Of course it is.

  It’s a photo of me helping Mum at the Brownie dance-show.

  Waltzing with a Brownie.

  Wearing a sparkly bow-tie.

  I want to die.

  No, I want to punch something. Then die.

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  FYI if U ever punch something, make sure it’s not solid (like, say, a wall), because it might break your hand. And it kills.

  — — —

  It wasn’t broken, but when Mum arrived at A&E, I expected her to break it for me. Instead, she was really quiet. Until:

  Mum: Davey, we need to talk.

  Me: Mm?

  Mum: Is this about me and Mandy? Did you get in a fight?

  Me: No – I…

  Mum: (Sigh) I thought you were OK with it – with us – now. I thought—

  Me: I am. It’s just … I dunno … I just always figured you’d remarry one day – a bloke, I mean.

  Mum: But you know that’s not going to happen. I like women. I love Mandy.

  Me: I know… But what about Dad? I mean – you must’ve liked men once.

  Mum: Davey…

  Me: You were engaged! If you weren’t in love, then – what?

  Mum: (Sigh) Honestly?

  Me: Course.

  Mum: I was pregnant.

  Me: What?

  Mum: He was the first boy I dated and … I got pregnant. My first time.

  Me: Wow.

  Mum: And while I love you to bits and wouldn’t change that for the world, you need to know – these things have consequences—

  Me: Mum!

  Mum: Because if you’re not careful, you can get trapped – stuck with someone you don’t love – and that’s not good for anybody. Especially the baby.

  Wow.

  I wonder if that’s what happened with Charlie’s parents. Belch’s mum said they’re getting divorced.

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  Life sucks. Love sucks. Even if you get it together with someone – even if you have kids. Look at Mum & Dad, look at Charlie’s parents – look at Romeo & Juliet…

  Me: This is depressing.

  Mum: It’s romantic – they die for their love!

  Me: Oh yeah? Romeo was in love with Rosaline five minutes ago.

  Mandy: That wasn’t love – that was lust. Big difference.

  Mum: Juliet was his true love. They didn’t care what anyone said – they risked everything to be together. Like Jack & Rose.

  Mandy: Sharon & Ozzy.

  Mum: Heathcliff & Cathy. They didn’t let anything come between them.

  Mum squeezes Mandy’s hand & they smile at each other.

  And then I realize.

  Like them.

  I look at them, cuddling on the sofa & it hits me for the first time what they must’ve gone through. In a tiny village where same-sex marriage is unheard of, Mandy & Mum are Romeo & Juliet.

  Or maybe Juliet & Juliet.

  Later, I asked Mum’s advice:

  Me: Mum, how do you attract women?

  Mum: Well, with Mandy it was that dress I wore to the Christmas party – you know, low-cut, long slit…

  Well, OK, not exactly Romeo & Juliet.

  Me: I mean, how can I attract a girl?

  Mandy: Has anyone seen my Enya CD?

  Mum: You struggling to pull, Davey?

  Mandy: Oh, mate – that’s easy – just be yourself!

  Myself? Nerdy, weedy, socially retarded David Mitchell? I don’t think so.

  Mandy: Be brave – tell her how you feel.

  Mum: Yes, “Faint heart never won fair lady.” Ooh – write her poetry!

  Mandy: But whatever you do, don’t use any naff chat-up lines – total turn-off.

  Right…

  I called Belch for some last-minute male advice:

  Belch: OK – you
’ve gotta be cool, confident. Think movie star.

  Me: Like Leonardo DiCaprio?

  Belch: Exactly: Blood Diamond!

  Me: No – I meant Romeo and Juliet, Titanic…

  Belch: Dude, stop watching chick-flicks.

  Me: What about poetry…?

  Belch: Dude. You start writing poems, you’ll get beaten up. Seriously.

  He emailed me a checklist:

  • Seize the day

  • Show her who’s boss

  • DON’T write poetry

  • Be cool

  • Use a good chat-up line eg:

  “I have a water-bed”

  “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

  And M&M’s advice:

  • Be sensitive

  • DON’T use chat-up lines

  • Tell her how you feel

  • Write her poetry

  • Be yourself

  Seriously, could this be any more confusing?

  — — —

  Dear Tadpole,

  Today was the worst day of my life.

  I woke to find Mandy had washed all my shirts with her Liverpool top & – guess what – they’re now pink.

  She claims it was an accident, but I reckon it’s payback for Enya.

  “Don’t worry,” she smiled. “Chicks dig pink.”

  Yeah, right.

  I covered it up with my blazer – then it only turned out to be the hottest day of the year.

  Brilliant.

  There I was, sweating my kecks off, while everyone else bared all… Blazers got ditched, skirts hitched up, tights came off… And then, there she was, walking home.

  Kelly McHenry. With Gazza. Ug.

  His Coke can hit me square on the chest.

  Gazza: Sorry, Billy Elliot – thought you needed cooling down.

  Kelly: Gaz! You’re so clumsy!

  Yeah. Clumsy.

  Kelly: David, I’m so sorry. Here, let me wash it off – my house is just there.

  Kelly McHenry is inviting me to her house?