A Thousand Water Bombs. T. M. Alexander
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‘Fantastic,’ said Bee. ‘I’ll write the words, you send it.’
‘No, not fantastic,’ I said. ‘There are rules about who can have your details and use them and all that . . .’
Oh no! I’d seen those looks before. The you’re-such-a-drip ones.
One of the Year 5 workers stopped tying and said, ‘He’s right. Data protection. Unless all the parents crossed the box about sharing data you’ll be in trouble.’
‘How do you know?’ said Fifty, looking down at him somehow even though the Year 5 was taller.
‘My mum’s an expert in data protection.’
‘Well, don’t tell her then,’ said Bee.
‘Or the deal’s off,’ added Fifty.
The worker went back to water-bomb assembly.
‘Come on,’ said Bee. ‘You can leave them to it. Let’s go and find Copper Pie and then we can have a go at the email. We need to get people to act. The swap stall’s going to be huge.’
‘Hey slaves,’ said Fifty. ‘We’ve got a meeting about the fair. Carry on and we’ll be back before the end of lunch to count your bombs.’
It was good being managers. No chapped lips. No rubber taste in your mouth.
Bee found Copper Pie and dragged him away from his exciting game kicking the ball against the wall repeatedly, like a machine. We sat in our den listening to Bee make up advertising slogans to explain the stall.
‘That’s too many words,’ said Jonno. ‘It needs to be simple, and short.’
‘Like Fifty,’ said Bee. Good one!
‘Watch it!’ said Fifty.
‘How about – get something for nothing,’ said Jonno.
‘It’s not nothing though. It’s get something for something else you don’t want,’ said Fifty.
‘That’s not snappy though, is it? Slogans are meant to be memorable.’ Jonno was right.
‘Something you want, for something you don’t,’ I said.
‘Something you want, for something you don’t,’ Bee repeated. ‘That’s it, Keener.’
‘Same,’ said Fifty.
‘We all agree,’ said Jonno. ‘Get sending, Fifty.’
‘I’ll do it as soon as I get home. Operation Email will be complete by 1700 hours.’
I was pleased I’d come up with the slogan, but that meant I was involved, which I wasn’t pleased about. I avoid trouble like surfers on Solana Beach avoid great white sharks. The email was bound to come flying back at us – outraged parents, abusing the class list system, an unfair advantage, the data protection police . . .
‘I’m going back to the art room before the bell goes. Coming, Fifty?’
‘Sure.’
On the way I tried to talk him out of it. He doesn’t like trouble either. But he was dead set on it.
‘It’s on your head,’ I said, but it wouldn’t be, would it? It would be on Tribe’s.
I checked the computer before I went to bed. The email was there. And it was from Fifty, making him prime suspect if the Head found out. He could have at least used his mum’s address.
From: [email protected]
Subject: SOMETHING YOUWANT, FOR SOMETHING YOU DON’T
Date: 22 May 16:47:45 BST
To: undisclosed-recipients
At the summer fair on Saturday there is going to be a Give and Take stall. Please bring something you don’t want, to swap for something you do.
No money involved. This is an environmentally friendly stall.
three days until the swap shop
We were all hanging around by the gates before school, except Copper Pie.
‘Have you ever known Copper Pie be late? asked Fifty.
I thought about it. ‘No,’ I said.
‘Never,’ said Bee.
‘He’s probably trying to avoid the water bomb production line,’ said Fifty.
‘Has he even done one?’ I asked.
‘Don’t think so,’ said Fifty.
‘How many are ready?’ asked Bee.
I looked at Fifty to see if he knew. His face was blank, so I answered. ‘About . . . four hundred?’
‘So will you finish in time?’
‘We will if we bribe some more kids,’ said Fifty.
‘I’ll help,’ said Bee. ‘You will too, won’t you, Jonno?’
‘If I have to, but I’m going to make a lip shield first so I don’t end up like them.’
He pointed at me and Fifty. Our lips had stopped bleeding but they were still a peculiar dark red colour, like we’d been gnawing raw meat.
Thanks to Bee’s organisation, at lunchtime there were four Tribers (no Copper Pie – off sick according to Miss Walsh), three of the Year 5s from the day before (two were off sick, probably with lesser-known lip fever, and one had given up) and three new ones. In between bombs she told us how much stuff she’d already collected for the Give and Take, and how many kids had told her they were bringing cool things to swap.
‘Don’t forget we’ve got to go back to that lady who said she’d sort through her rubbish,’ said Jonno (Swap Stall Deputy).
‘Let’s go after school,’ said Bee. ‘And then I need to do some cleaning. Some people are really disgusting – there’s chewing gum on the French horn.’ Something sticky from someone else’s mouth – yuck.
BEST ITEMS
Boomerang
French horn
Heart-shaped hot water bottle with no stopper
Mini darts set
Car seat with sticky patches
Set of skittles
New red and yellow stripy tights
Half