Balaclava Boy (3 page)

4

Tuesday Natural Science

Dumisani was busy drawing a cowboy hat and dreadlocks on his fish. I was busy labelling my dorsal fin. Miss Venter was safe across the classroom, trying to help Billy de Beer, aka Lost In Space, to concentrate.

That's when Cherise got going again. “Okay, Tommy,” she whispered. “Now I want you to tell me why you're wearing a balaclava.”

But Tommy gave her the same answer he'd given us. “Because.”

“Because – why?” Cherise demanded in her bossiest voice.

“Because – because,” Tommy said. And then he kept silent. No matter how much Cherise bossed him around. Or talked on and on about reasons and explanations.

Dumisani and I went back to our fishes. Dumisani labelled his gills. I gave my fish an iPod and some spectacles so he looked a bit like Moketsi. But Cherise hadn't given up. She never gives up easily.

Miss Venter was busy looking for something in the back cupboard now. So Cherise whispered, “Tommy, do you know what we call Mr Rasool?”

“The headmaster? Nah, what?”

“We call him Mr Mosi. Do you know why?”

“Nah. Why?”

“Because.”

But Tommy knew what she was trying to do this time. So he just said, “Ha ha, very funny!”

And of course Dumisani and I had to turn round and say, “Ha ha, Cherise. Very funny,” as well. And then the bell rang and it was the end of gills and scales and dorsal fins.

“See, Smartie Pants,” Dumisani teased Cherise. “Your psychology stuff is useless! But don't worry! The Doo Dudes are moving on to Plan B.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, even though I didn't know what Plan B was yet. “You just watch and learn!”

Cherise walked off with Mpho, aka Mousie Mousie, telling her that we were the most childish, irritating boys in Grade Four SV. Mpho said nothing. Mpho never says anything. Not ever.

When home-time came, we swung into action with Dumisani's Plan B. It was a stunning plan. The best! We followed Tommy at a distance all the way to his home on Daffodil Street. We acted like proper secret service spies, hiding behind hedges and parked cars so Tommy wouldn't spot us.

Once he was in his house, we crept around the side. There were some wooden crates there. So we stacked them against the wall and climbed up on them. Then we were tall enough to see through the window.

Tommy was already in the room. His mom came in and gave him a big hug. She said, “How was school, sweet-heart? Did you find someone nice to be friends with? This is the last time we're going to move, promise. Dad's taken a permanent job here now.”

Then Tommy lifted up both hands and began to pull off his balaclava. Dumisani and I held our breath. Again.

5

Wednesday Questions

“And then? What happened then?” Cherise wanted to know. First thing on Wednesday morning. Dumisani and I were at school early again. Long before line-up. For the second day in a row!

“Come on, Doo Dudes, tell me!” Cherise had her hands on her hips. But at least she was calling us by our proper nickname.

So we told her the rest of our spy story. It didn't have a good ending. Dumisani's wooden crate had broken under him with a loud crack. Then a huge dog, a Rottweiler or something, came rushing and snarling round the corner. With huge strings of saliva dangling and swinging from its vampire teeth.

“We had to run for our lives!” Dumisani said. “It would have ripped us apart! So we didn't see Tommy with his balaclava off.”

Cherise shook her head at us like we were total idiots.

“But don't worry,” I said, “because now we're going to try Plan C.” I'd only just thought of Plan C, right at that moment! I whispered it to Dumisani so Cherise couldn't hear.

Dumisani laughed. “Hey, Doogz! That's not a bad idea! Let's hit the road!”

So we rushed around the playground, explaining Plan C to everyone in Grade Four SV. Except Cherise, of course. Down at the soccer field, we told Obakeng and Riyaad and the rest. We made Thandi and Hannah stop their clapping game long enough to listen.

We found Donna-Kyle, aka Factfile, aka Discovery Channel. She was under a tree with an encyclopaedia and Mpho, aka Mousie Mousie.

Donna-Kyle nodded. “That might work, Big Ds. I must admit, I'm getting really curious.”

Mpho said nothing. As usual.

And then Tommy arrived with his school bag and a beige balaclava with white stripes.

My Plan C was going like a Boeing. Purring like a Porsche! Racing like a Lamborghini in fifth gear!

We sat in class, writing notes about cleaning your teeth. But everyone had more important stuff to think about than dental floss.

Mostly, everyone was trying to find an excuse to walk past Tommy's desk.

Hannah managed first.

She stuck up her hand and her voice boomed out:

“Please, Miss. Can I get my pink pencil crayon, Miss? From Beatrice, Miss. For the gums on the diagram, Miss.”

She walked to Beatrice's desk the long way round. As she passed Tommy, she bent and whispered through his balaclava: “Hey, dude, why are you wearing that thing?”

Then Obakeng put up his long, long arm so his track-suit sleeve slid down to his elbow. “Please, Miss, I need the toilet.”

“Is it urgent, Obakeng?”

Obakeng screwed up his face like he was suffering big time. “I'm desperate, Miss,” he groaned. But he wasn't so desperate that he didn't have time to stop at Tommy's desk.

“Hey, New Bru,” he whispered. “We really need to know. Why have you got that thing on your head?”

And so it went on.

And on.

Dumisani and I smiled while we drew caps and scarves and smiley faces on our tooth diagrams. So they looked like rows of soccer fans.

We were sure: sooner or later Tommy would get sick of hearing the same question.

Sooner or later he'd crack. He'd tell us what we were all dying to know. Just to make us stop!

Even Billy, aka Lost In Space, found an excuse to walk past Tommy's desk. Once he got there, he forgot what he was supposed to say. But at least he tried.

Miss Venter was losing her patience, though. “What's got into all of you? You're like jack-in-the-boxes! Worse than yesterday. Dear! Dear! Dear!”

She patted her chest until powder hung like a cloud over our heads. Thandi started coughing. Loudly, of course.

But Tommy, aka Balaclava Boy, aka New Bru, didn't crack. No matter how many Grade Fours leaned over his desk. The only answer he whispered back was “Because”. After a while, he stopped even saying that much.

6

Wednesday Answers

Dumisani and I knelt down by our bags to get our lunch-boxes. We weren't feeling happy. And Cherise just made it worse.

She smirked down at us. She said, “If you want something done properly, then you have to get a girl to sort it. Now you two can watch and learn!”

She spent the whole break whispering to the other Grade Fours while they skipped or ate their lunch or played soccer. Or went to the duty teacher, Mrs Twetwe, to complain that the Grade Fives had stolen their ball. Again.

We followed Cherise around the playground. But the only thing we heard her say was, “Don't tell Tommy. And don't tell the Doo Dudes. It's a surprise.”

And no one would tell us either. Not Obakeng nor X-man nor Riyaad, aka Rough Stuff.

After break, things got weird. It was creative writing. We were supposed to write a story about ‘My Most Exciting Holiday' for Miss Venter. But instead, everyone else was scribbling on pieces of paper. And then they passed their notes along the rows to Cherise. Carefully, so Miss Venter didn't notice.

We kept turning around, Dumisani and I. But Cherise kept slipping the notes into her dictionary. Quickly, so we couldn't see. She was smirking again. And her dictionary got fatter and fatter.

“This sucks!” said Dumisani. “This sucks big time!”

We gave up. We went back to writing about our stupid boring Most Exciting Holidays.

By the time the home-bell rang, we were going crazy with curiosity.

We didn't rush out the classroom with the others. Instead we hung around Cherise's desk, hoping.

In the end she made us go down on our knees. Right down on both knees – well, all four knees – and beg.

We had to promise never to be rude to her again. Nor pull faces at her.

We had to say that yes, girls were much cleverer than boys.

It was embarrassing! But at least there was no one else left in the classroom to see. It was just us three. Well, us three plus the head cleaner, Mr Plaatjies, aka Rocket Man, aka Cape Canaveral. He was sweeping at full throttle, making the dust fly with his supersonic broom.

“Okay,” Cherise said at last. She opened up her dictionary. “There you go.”

The notes were awesome! Stunning! Completely worth begging for! They were all the reasons why our classmates thought Tommy wore a balaclava. We read them one by one.

Cos his ears are big and they stik out like cabiges so he gets imbarissed. Love from Hannah.

Because all his hairs fell out. From Moketsi aka T
HE
T
ERMINATOR
.

His Mommy said he must because it is winter. Leila January.

Coz hez a famous football star and hez hiding from all his fanz.
BY
: Xavier Fernandez aka X-man.

Dumisani and I read on and on. And on. We forgot all about it being home-time. And Cherise didn't rush us. She just kept putting more notes in front of us.

His mother loves knitting but she can only knit balaclavas cos she only got a pattern for balaclavas so she can't knit other things. Love Yasmiena.

Eish! Cos he is so ugly. He will make us scared if we ever see his face. Maybe we will turn into rock from shock. Eish! Even uglier than Gary penfold in grade Seven. By Johan Eksteen Clayton.

Becos he doesn't want to get germs like sars and mad cow
DISEES
so it works like a mask or otherwise maybe he has got a
DISEES
so he doesn't want us to catch it. Written by Riyaad Desai aka Rough Stuff aka
WWF
aka
THE STRONGEST BOY IN THE SCHOOL
.

There was an extra-long, extra-amazing one by Mpho, aka Mousie Mousie. She wrote that Tommy might be in a witness protection programme because he'd seen a murder. And the police had told Mr Rasool that Tommy must keep his face covered. In case the murderer's friends tried to silence him.

“I wonder why she keeps so quiet when she can think of stuff like this?!” Dumisani said.

Then there was a weird reason from Obakeng in his weird writing that was as long and skinny as his arms and legs.

Its coz the New Bru is n
ALIEN
. With a purple nose n green lips. He got sent to Earth 2 C how intlgnt we R. Shame he must sit bhind the Big Dz. Coz now he thinx we R all
IDIYOTS
. – Only joking, Dumz + Doogz. From Obakeng aka O-Rang-O-Tang Armz.

Even Billy de Beer had written something. It wasn't anything to do with Tommy or the balaclava. Instead it was about some weaverbird's nest in the tree outside. But at least he tried.

“See, this is my plan,” Cherise explained. “On Friday I'm going to read them all out for Free Orals. Then maybe Tommy will get sick of hearing the wrong reasons. So he'll maybe tell us the right one.” She packed the notes back in her dictionary and put her dictionary in her case.

Dumisani and I ran home together. Fast, in case his mom was worrying.

“Do you reckon Cherise's plan will work?” I asked when I got some breath.

But Dumisani didn't answer. He just ran on with his bag bouncing against his back. I knew what his problem was. He was worried that Cherise would use up all the Free Orals time with her notes. And then he wouldn't get a chance.

Dumisani loves doing Friday Free Orals. It's his favourite lesson of the whole week. He loves standing up in front of everyone, talking on and on. And on! Without Miss Venter or anyone telling him to shush.