11

The Courage of a Lion

Because yeah, I’m going to be in trouble when I get home. You can’t go burning down people’s houses – and nearly killing yourself into the bargain – without getting into big trouble.

Never mind nicking eighty-five quid off your very own dad. Never mind all the other crazy stuff I’ve done over the past few days. (I’ll be giving him most of the money back, mind you. There’s not a lot to spend it on out here.)

Yeah. I’ve got trouble coming. But nothing like the trouble that’s coming the way of Fug and his stupid Thumps. Oh yes.

Because that’s what the island’s taught me. That I’m strong. That I don’t have to be afraid any more. That if I’ve got a problem, no matter how big, I can find a way to do something about it. I don’t have to run away from it.

That ‘finding some space’ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That there comes a time when you’ve got to stand up and be counted.

So when I get back, I’m going to do something about Fug and those Thumps. Oh yes. Not just for me. For all the other kids, too. All the ones now, all the ones in the future.

Cos I’m not scared of him any more. Cos, just like the flipping Lion in the flipping Wizard of Oz, I’ve found my courage, because:

1. I refused to do their dirty work. Right at the start of all this, before I even set foot on this stupid island, I put my foot down and said ‘No!’
   
2. I nicked eighty-five smackers from my dad. He’ll be mad at me!
   
3. I skipped school. They’ll be mad at me!
   
4. I paddled out to sea in a leaky kayak. Without a life jacket. Don’t do this at home, kids.
   
5. I bust into a couple of holiday homes and nicked a load of food.
   
6. I took off to open sea again, without even a paddle.
   
7. I bailed out and swam to shore.
   
8. I blew up a fishing hut, for flip’s sake.
   
9. And then I burnt down a holiday home!
   

Every one of them, crazy or not, wrong or not, took courage. And if I can do all that, I can go back to the very first one – standing up to Fug – and do it right this time.

Because it’s not enough to say no any more. I’ve got to stop him!

So first I’m going to tell my parents everything he’s been doing. I’m going to have to anyway, because how else are they going to understand why I did what I did? Why I put them through all this.

Together, me and my folks, we’ll tell the teachers. We’ll tell the head.

Together, we’ll tell the kids in school that it’s going to stop. Everything that’s been going on, everything that’s been turning them into damaged little worry-monsters, like me… It’s all going to really, truly, actually STOP!

That’s what’ll happen, right?