That made me really upset. It was like Wills was being sent to a new school because of me, even if he would have had to go anyway. I should have been happy that at least for part of my days I would be living in a hurricane-free zone where no one could lump me together with him. But I couldn’t be happy because I was sad for Wills, even when Mom told me that the school was much smaller, and had teachers who could look after Wills better.
Wills came to see me every day. At first he was very subdued and I spent the whole time trying to cheer him up. He kept saying sorry, until I wanted to shove a sock in his mouth to stop him. Mom said that he had gone berserk when they told him about changing schools. He said he would rather run away than have to put up with a new load of donkeys. Then he got all clingy and said he would superglue himself to Mom. When he told me they had basketball, and had an enormous swimming pool, and a floodlit soccer field, I said he must be crazy if he didn’t want to go there.
One afternoon, Wills came bouncing in and leapt on my bed.
“Careful, you fool!” I yelped. “You nearly broke my other leg.”
“Sorry, bro,” he said. “Just thought you’d like to know that you’re talking to a genuine brainiac.”
“Oh, yeah, who says?”
“I’ve done the tests, haven’t I? You know, like the ones I had to do when I was younger, but these were a lot, lot harder. Those psychologist types made me do them to see if I had a screw loose, but I haven’t. Dad couldn’t believe it,” he guffawed. “You can kiss my feet if you like.”
“You can kiss my butt,” I flung back. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be stupid.”
“I could become the president,” he said airily.
“Pigs might fly,” I snorted.
“You’ll miss me when you can’t see me every day at school.”
“Like a hole in the head.”
Wills went around the ward, chatting loudly to the other patients and nurses and anyone else he could find. He picked up patients’ notes and pretended to be a surgeon about to perform an operation on each one of them in turn, until one of the nurses shooed him away. I pulled the pillow over my head and wanted to die of embarrassment, but I was glad that Wills was happier, even if it was at my expense.
He came back and bounced on the bed again. “I bet you’re jealous that I’m going to a better school than you?” he asked.
“Who says it’s better?”
“Stands to reason if it’s got a floodlit soccer field and a swimming pool and basketball,” he said.
“I don’t like swimming, and I’m not good at basketball, and the soccer field at our school is OK, plus I won’t be playing sports for a while, plus my friends are there,” I replied.
“They’re all donkeys at that school,” scoffed Wills. “I don’t know how you’ll put up with them once I’ve gone.”
“I’ll be all right, thanks for your concern.”
Wills went all thoughtful, before saying quietly, “I’m scared, bro. What if nobody likes me at the new school? What if they get fed up with me like they did at the old school?”
I didn’t really know how to answer that, because it was true that all the other kids got fed up with Wills, and you couldn’t blame them.
“What if I mess up again?” he carried on. “I mean, if I mess up again the police or those psychologist types might say I have to be sent away.”
“No one’s going to send you away, Wills,” I said, trying to reassure him.
“But they will if I do like I did before.”
“You won’t though, will you?” I said. “You won’t be seeing your horrible friends again, and Mom and Dad and your new teachers are going to make sure you don’t get into trouble.”
“But I can’t help getting into trouble.” His leg was jerking up and down wildly and he was biting his nails.
“Nobody expects you never to get into trouble again,” I grinned.
“Don’t they?” He sounded surprised.
“Course not,” I laughed. “That would take a miracle.”
“Miracles happen,” Wills retorted snottily. “You just wait and see.”
Chapter Twenty-one
A miracle hasn’t happened, surprise surprise, but the hurricanes aren’t quite so strong and don’t happen quite so often—though they are still bad enough when they do. I think that what went on that day in the library, and in the scrap yard, frightened Wills so much that warning signals began to sound in his head if he started to lose control. It didn’t stop him trying to knock me off my crutches or calling me Stumpy, but mostly he was nicer to me and even went to fetch things for me, if I couldn’t carry them because of the crutches.
The best thing is that Wills gets home from school a lot later than me. His new school is further away and they make everyone stay to do their homework. (Why do they call it homework if they do it at school?) Twice a week he stays after homework to play basketball. That means that I can come home from school and be on my own and do what I want without interruption. Sometimes Jack or my other friends (I seem to have more now that Wills isn’t there to annoy them) come back to play on the computer or watch the television. Even Mom gets home before Wills. If I’m already back, I make her a cup of tea and we sit down at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies and talk about how our days have been. I’ve found out so much about Mom’s work that I
