(no subject)

[irishclaire]

hi everyone, this is the first thing i've written for here. sorry it's so long. i'm not too happy with it, definitely needs work, but this is what i thought of in relation to the theme of 'catch'.



Catch

I didn’t want to play their stupid game anyway.

It was already getting dark in the park. At that time of night the ice-cream van was starting to lock up, and all the younger kids had been taken home by their mums and dads. We knew we’d have to go home soon but we always tried to drag out one more game.  The evening flies were circling round us and I felt a little cold in my T-shirt and shorts. It was the end of August. School was starting next week.

They’d put me at the far corner near the wilderness and I was just supposed to catch. Just try, Leigh, said my brother Tom. He’d organised this game, of course. I don’t want to, I said. Well, too bad, so sad, there’s nobody else. There’s Brian, I said, pointing to where he sat on the back of a bench with his hands in his anorak pockets. Well, Brian doesn’t play, Tom shrugged.

I’d been standing there forever and the ball hadn’t come near me. This game was called Catch, a sort of mixture of Rounders and Baseball. The rules were whatever Tom said they were on whatever day we played. It had started when school first finished, back in July, when Mike got the baseball bat. Mike’s dad had gone to America, and instead of ever coming back, had sent this bat. It had the name of someone famous signed on it. None of us had ever watched baseball and we didn’t know the rules, so we just played Catch instead.

Everything was all wrong.  My denim shorts, from last year, were much too tight. I couldn’t get my hands into the pockets. My blue Flintstones T-shirt was a boy’s, and it came nearly to the edge of my shorts. At least it hid the swelling lumps underneath. They hadn’t been there at the start of the summer. I was terrified that everyone was looking at them. I tugged my blonde ponytail, pulled through the back of the England baseball cap I adored. On my fingers there was cheap pink glitter, peeling off.

Honey, do you really want nail varnish? My Dad said at the supermarket where we went to do the shopping. I held it tight in a hot hand, ashamed. I like the colour, I mumbled. Ok, he said, but I saw his face. I couldn’t explain what was so wrong with how he looked, but he was so sad, as if I wasn’t his little girl any more. I didn’t want to be this strange grown-up person. I didn’t mean it, daddy, I said later, in the car. I don’t want to wear it. But it was too late. He just gave me a sort of smile but he was looking at me like I was someone different, I knew. I wished I’d said nothing and left the stupid glitter on the shelf.

Lots of girls in my class had already turned eleven, and they wore nail varnish. I was also the only girl in my class still wearing crop tops. My mother still hadn’t noticed I needed a bra. I didn’t know how to tell her. I was ashamed. We all knew when someone at school got a bra. It was all in the way they sat and theway they walked around.

Suddenly there were shouts and people waving at me: Catch it! Catch it! I watched as the ball sailed past me and into the wilderness, a fenced-off area of trees and bushes. We weren’t ever supposed to go into that part of the park. Tom was running at me, waving angrily. You didn’t even try to catch it! What’s wrong with you? I didn’t care. He was a moron.

The game seemed to be breaking up anyway. The pitcher had gone home for his chores and the first base’s mother had appeared at the edge of the park, beckoning him home. My mother never came to look for me. She just seemed to know I’d never do anything really bad. Well, I wanted to. I kicked miserably at the flaps of my sandals, where the sole was coming undone from hard wear. Wearing them all summer had burnt my feet into a criss-cross pattern. They were very dirty. Last summer we all still used to jump into the park river in our underwear. Now I couldn’t because of these terrible things in front of me, swollen and painful. I couldn’t run with the boys anymore, crashing through bushes, climbing walls to poke at things we weren’t meant to, laughing open-mouthed.

The boys were all starting to drift off, come on, let’s go and get ice-pops. When their voices moved away towards the road it suddenly seemed very quiet in the park, just those summer nighttime sounds like insects whispering and maybe a dog barking far away. In the dark all the shapes of the swings and benches looked different. Tom shouted something over his shoulder to me, probably about me being a girl at catching.

My brother Tom was loud and sandy-haired, never still, ruining everything. He talked and ate with his mouth open and fell off the chair when he laughed. All the teachers at school called me Tom McCarthy’s sister. You know. Once at the start of the summer we were fighting as usual, and he elbowed me right in the chest. We always used to do that and I’d just kick at his shins furiously, but this time it hurt so much I couldn’t help it, I bit my lip and a big sob tore out of me. Only babies cried when they got hit. I told you it would all end in tears, said my mother, hardly looking up from her papers. My dad took him outside and talked to him, and after that Tom looked at my strangely. He hadn’t punched me, or pinched me, or tickled me, or pulled my hair since then. After he’d hurt me the pain in my chest didn’t go away, and soon after I noticed a definite swelling. It was horrible. For a while I was afraid the other side wasn’t going to come and I’d be a freak, but it also started to hurt a few weeks later. The right side was still much bigger. Maybe it would always be that way. I worried about it, constantly.

Brian was the last boy to leave. He folded into his pocket the comic he was reading and got down off the back of the bench. He always walked in such a hunched way, all bunched up, as if he didn’t know where to put his arms and legs. Some of the girls laughed at him but I liked him. I liked his glasses and his red hair that fell over his forehead when he was trying to do a maths problem.  No one else at school had hair like that. Mine was like all my family’s was, limp and fair from the sun, straggly. Everyone in school knew that Brian could say all the names of the planets in the solar system, and even their moons. He collected stamps in a book with a little magnifying glass. Kids used to go up to him and ask him to do sums in his head, and he could do it, long division, even. Sometimes I told myself he probably didn’t even know my name. I was just Tom McCarthy’s sister. You know.

No one was around now in the park. I didn’t want to go home. I was annoyed at Tom, and my mother didn’t even see me, and my father couldn’t look at me any more because I was turning into such a freak. I was going into the wilderness. There was somebody who did see me, who did know my name. The man with the puppy.

I first met them a few weeks ago, after I’d been playing on the swings with my friend Melissa. I was surprised she’d called me up that day because all summer she’d been acting weird and hanging out with other kids. But I went. Melissa was plaiting silly little plaits into her brown hair. She always wanted to play hairdresser with my hair, and I’d pull away, I couldn’t stand people fussing with me like that. You’re so lucky to be a natural blonde, said Melissa. I’d no idea what she meant by that. We scuffed on the swings for a bit. There was nothing at all to do, no one to talk to. She was being really annoying. Have you started your rag yet? She whispered loudly. We will soon, you know. My sister says it hurts like nothing else in the world. You start bleeding and you bleed for days and days and days. It means you’ll get pregnant if a boy kisses you.

There had been rumours of this kind of thing at school, about the bleeding, but I blocked them out. It couldn’t be true.

I don’t believe you, I said. Well, you’ll see. Want to hear a secret? She said, giggling. I shrugged. Promise not to tell. Ok. I like a boy, she whispered. I stared at her. You mean, like a boyfriend? Duh, she said, rolling her eyes and kicking back on the swing. Don’t you want to know who it is? Don’t care. Someone you know. She started swinging. You might be surprised if I tell you.

Can I whisper it? Melissa was acting really stupidly and I was about to tell her.  She bent low to my ear and I felt her hot bubble-gum breath. I bust out laughing. Tom! Well, what’s so funny about that? Tom doesn’t like girls, I said. Eew, I mean, he’s my brother. Fine. She stopped the swing by scuffing her sandals off the ground and got up. What’s the matter? Some friend you are, she hissed, her voice all wobbly as if she was going to cry. But Melissa could make herself cry any time, especially if the man in the paper shop saw her sneaking lollipops into her pockets.  I wasn’t laughing at you, I said, but she was gone, flouncing over the park lawns with her arms tucked protectively under her chest. All the girls at school seemed to walk like that now.

After Melissa being like that I was a bit annoyed, so I went over to the shop to get an ice-pop. It was nice and frosty in the fridge and I took so long choosing that the old man was starting to look at me in a funny way, so I took a cola one and dug 5p out of the pocket of my shorts. I went to sit on the wall nearby and eat it, tearing off the clear plastic top with my teeth, spitting it out, and sliding the frozen tube up and down until the nice sweet cola bit melted and pooled in the bottom. Tom and his friends used to buy them just to shoot at each other, such morons.

That was when I met the dog and the man. The puppy came over to me first, nosing round my dusty feet and making the cutest little snuffling noises. I reached down to pat her - she was so fluffy, all brown and pure white, with little black beady eyes and a little pink tongue hanging out - and when I stood up he was there.

She likes you, he said, and he laughed. I thought right away he had a strange laugh, like you couldn’t tell if he really meant it, or if he was angry with you and laughing in a mean kind of way. What’s her name? I asked him.

She doesn’t have one yet, I just got her. Maybe I’ll call her after you. What’s your name? He smiled at me. He had thick black curly hair, and very thick-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt with blue checks and I glanced at the hair on his arms. I couldn’t believe it was so hairy and dark. None of the boys in my class were like that.  Do I have to guess your name? Um…Ok…Mary? Susan? Chloe? Rumpelstiltskin? I giggled and told him my name. But that’s a boy’s name! You’re too pretty to have a boy’s name!

No, I said, it’s L-e-i-g-h.  Oh, he said, that’s nice. Do you think she looks like a Leigh too? He scooped the little puppy up in his arms. She was wriggling and squirming to get away and making these cute little whiny noises. She couldn’t bark yet. She doesn’t look like a Leigh, I said. Well, I tell you what, why don’t you have a think about what her name could be. I live just near here. You can come see her whenever you like. Just behind that park, over the wilderness, you can get to my house. Ok, I said, not really listening, scratching the puppy behind her floppy little ears.

The next time I saw him was in the park, walking the puppy on a short leash. He waved at me. You didn’t come to see the puppy, he said. She was sad without you, and he did that funny laugh again, so I thought maybe he was angry with me. I couldn’t believe someone would be sad without me, or that a grown-up like him would be interested in me. I didn’t stay talking to him for long, but when Melissa saw me walking back she asked who it was. Just some man, I said. He has such a sweet puppy. She looked at me slyly. Do you have a secret boyfriend? Melissa was always reading her sister’s magazines. That day she was wearing a bra and trying to get everyone to notice by sighing and adjusting it all the time.

Melissa was silly, but I sort of liked the idea that boys might be interested in me. Nobody else saw me except as just as a tomboy, tearing her clothes and breaking things. I saw him a few times again, and we talked a little. He seemed really interested in my school, my tapes; he even said he had loads of videos of England football games if I wanted to see them. After that, I kept seeing him around the park all through the summer. Sometimes he was on the other side of the swings while we were splashing in the wading pool, or else he’d be reading a paper while sitting on a bench. I loved seeing the puppy, she was so sweet, cuter even than the ones I drew pictures of in my notebook. I was sad I wouldn’t be able to see her when school started.

It was the only good thing about my summer. Everything else was just changing all the time.

One night my mother found me, sitting on my bed, trying not to cry, in my crop top, kicking the floor. I hate this, I hate it. I’m turning into a freak. Leigh, those are your breasts, she said calmly. It happens to everyone. There’s no need to over-react like this. She kept putting the clean folded T-shirts into my drawers. You need to be ready for your periods too. My what? You’ll be bleeding. Don’t worry, it’s normal. I don’t believe you, I said, shaking my head. Leigh, it’s true. You need to be ready for it. You’re developing already.

The most horrible word in the universe: developing. I tried to put my hands over my ears. You can’t be a baby anymore she said, and went on hanging shirts on hangers. These things are going to happen.  But I don’t want it to! She laughed a little and I hated her for it. There, you see, that’s the catch of growing up, Leigh.

The next day she came home with a plastic packet. I hated it. I didn’t understand why but I did.  Look, she said, drawing out something like a baby’s nappy with no sides. You put it in your pants. When it’s time. It was horrible, the pink plastic underside that crinkled, the sticky flaps and the blue line down the middle. I don’t need these, I said, trying to get up. I think you will soon, she said. Don’t let Laura see them. My little sister Laura shared my room and she could leave nothing alone that was mine. I hid the things under my bed where my diary was, but every time she was in the room without me I was afraid and I’d make an excuse to follow her in. You’re weird, Leigh, she said, happily painting her small baby nails with my glitter. I hadn’t touched it since the first time.

It was getting pretty dark in the wilderness. The shadows between the trees were turning from grey into black, and looked like anything you could think of, monsters, tigers. I tried not to be a baby. Tom and the boys used to dare each other to come in here. I made my way through the scratching bushes to the other side, where the houses were. It was so quiet. I could see some lights and it made me feel safer that people were there. That’s where he said he lived. I tried not to listen to the strange crackles in the shadows and under my feet. I was as brave as any boy. I got to the edge and to a wire fence. It looked high, but easy enough to get over. I was always climbing fences last summer.

Leigh?

I jumped out of my skin, half-falling over the fence and into the garden. Something caught on my leg and I drew my breath in sharply. It was the man who said my name. I wondered why he was in his garden in the dark like this, not making any noise. His house was in darkness too.

Have you come to see the puppy?  He laughed his strange laugh again. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t really thought beyond this.

Are you OK? You’ve hurt your leg. You’re bleeding. You’ve torn your shorts, look. I looked down and saw a long scratch on my thigh just below the edge of my shorts. Oh God, my mum will kill me, I said miserably. She was always saying, you’re so hard on clothes; you’re such a tomboy.

Well, maybe she doesn’t have to know. He gave me a wink behind his thick black glasses. I can sew that up for you, no problem. You can sew?

Well, of course, if you don’t have a nice girl to look after you, you need to be able to sew. Come on, Leigh. Come on in, you can slip them off. It’d take five minutes. Who’d ever know? He seemed to be very close to me. I moved back a little. I really wasn’t sure what to do, now. His house was very dark and kind of creepy. You come with me. You don’t want to get in trouble. It’ll be OK. His fingers closed round my arm.

There was a crackle and both of us jumped a little. Just at the edge of the wilderness, Brian was standing there, half in the shadows, staring at the man.

Leigh? He said, clearing his throat. I saw you go in here. I didn’t know what to say. I remembered suddenly how once, a few years ago, when we all played together, Melissa had pulled my hair and Brian told her to go home.

She’s OK, said the man, moving closer to me. His arm brushed my shoulder, lying along my ponytail. She hurt her leg, didn’t you, Leigh?

I looked at Brian and couldn’t speak. I thought maybe you didn’t know, it’s not safe to go in here, he said. You could get in trouble. He looked steadily between the man and me.

You really shouldn’t be in my garden, you know. The man laughed. When he laughed like that it was horrible, in a way, I didn’t know if he was laughing at me or with me, or if he was annoyed or happy. I could tell your mother you’ve been trespassing round here. What’s your name?

Brian said nothing. He was so quiet. He looked at me. Are you OK, Leigh?

I nodded. He was really staring at me and suddenly I just wanted to go home. The man bent down. His fingers were digging into the skin of my arm just near the sleeve of my T-shirt, quite hard. Is this your little boyfriend?

No, I whispered, looking at my feet. Well, tell him you’re fine then. You need to see to that cut. It could be serious. Don’t you want to stay here? Otherwise I might have to tell your mum what happened. You’re not supposed to go in that part of the park, are you? My mother had warned me many times about going in there, and about going into other people’s gardens. I thought maybe if I went in with him for a minute, we could see the puppy, and I could go home soon.

Leigh, your mum said to find you, said Brian. I knew that wasn’t true. Why had he sad it? Look, get out of here, kid, said the man, sounding annoyed.

No, he muttered. Kid, I don’t know what kind of parents you have, but you’re supposed to respect your elders. She needs to go home with me, Brian repeated. I’m staying here.

For a long moment we all stood there in the darkening garden, me with my bleeding leg, trying not to be a baby and cry, quivering like a dog, the man staring at Brian and still holding my arm tight, Brian in the bushes staring at the man. It was so dark in the shadows I could see the shine from his glasses. His eyes look big and scared, blinking, but he didn’t move.

Fine, said the man, suddenly, pushing me away. Goddamn kids. Get out of here, then, you’re on my land.  Get out! I ran to Brian, tripping over a little. Come on! He pushed me to the fence. I didn’t know if I could climb it again.

I looked back, and the man’s house was still in darkness, but as I turned away, I saw he was watching us from the window. I could see the glint of his glasses too. It made me shiver.

Come on, Leigh; let’s get out of here! Brian grabbed my hand.

But what if I fall? I burst out. It’s too high. He looked me in the eyes. Don’t worry, he said, if you fall, I’ll catch you.