“Wasim, Wasim, Wasim…”
“It wasn’t me.” Wasim’s eyes went from the phone to the floor, and then up to the Mars wrapper. Ben had chosen to give it to Dom.
“Well, it must have been, fella. You’ve already handed over one bag full of food, you’re the only kid here who eats in our dorms and my people tell me that you didn’t touch your breakfast.” Dom looked at Mr Abbot then, as if that proved it.
Mr Abbot shook his head again, obviously surprised and Dom sprang off the desk, towering over Wasim. “Wassup? Don’t you like our food, fella?”
Wasim sat up. There was something about the way Dom had said “our” that brought Mr Abbot to life. He ignored Dom and spoke straight to Mr Snow, the centre manager.
“Right, well we will pay for the Mars box and I’ll talk to this young man again later.” Mr Abbot moved himself between Dom and Wasim and spoke in his quiet-but-meaning-business voice.
“We’ve never known Wasim to tell a lie. Getting in trouble, yes. Doing silly things, very silly things, yes. But not lies. We’ll see if anything turns up today before we take any . . . err . . . drastic decisions.”
“Well, the boy’s already admitted to eating in the—”
Mr Abbot cut him off and took charge.
“Like I said, we’ll pay for the Mars bars and Wasim and I will have a chat later.”
Wasim found his eyes drifting to the phone again. A chat. It would be home for him, no matter what. If they thought he’d nicked the Mars bars, home in disgrace!
If he told them why he had food in his room and why he could only eat after dark, home!
Ramadan or not, you can’t do challenges without food.
The chat was going to wait. This afternoon was the hike, and making sure everybody had their full waterproof kit and proper footwear took up all of Mr Abbot’s time, especially when Donna’s dorm all came down in their disco skirts and party shoes in case there wasn’t a chance to get changed when they got back.
The hike was what the kit had been brought for, and what the children coming back to school always boasted about. The leaders took a group up into the mountains and they had to use a compass and the map to get back. The winning group each got a free CBC T-shirt, but if you got it wrong you froze to death and mountain wolves ate you. That was what Charles had told them all.
They were being split into three teams Wasim hung back – nobody would want to be with him.
“Come on, partner. You look like a man who can read a map.”
Mr Bird guided Wasim by the arm and put him with the group waiting for the girls to come back from their quick change. Nobody said anything about not wanting him, and they even forgot that he was supposed to be ignored. They were all too excited about the challenge, Charles’s warnings about bears and Dionne explaining what he would do if they got chased by a yeti.
A whistle blew.
Dom waited for silence and then said he was sorry for the late start but he had had problems to deal with all morning. Wasim did his boots up again and felt the eyes on him.
“OK, guys. . .” And Dom explained the rules. Wasim tried to listen, but the pain had started in his tummy and packed lunches were being handed out for eating at “base camp”.
Mr Bird let Dionne hold the map and Charles the compass, and the groups set off, chattering and skipping past the zip wire, the quads, the Challenge by Choice sign and over the road. Then they were onto a track and passing a footpath sign pointing up into the sunlight. And then the chattering slowed and they were really in the hills. The children fell into rhythm and they were marching.
“I have heard that it’s been said . . .
Hup, two, three, four,
Kids pick noses in their beds. . .”
And even Wasim joined in with a smile.
“And I have heard that it is true . . .
Hup, two, three, four,
That teachers pick their noses too.”
“Aching, eh Waz?”
Charles fell into step alongside him and Wasim’s smile became a grin. He was back!