In the morning, Kay drops me at Theodore’s house. It’s old, but like rich people old, where everything is well taken care of.
Theodore’s room is huge. He has posters of Korean pop bands all over the walls and lots of books, some of them in Korean. He shows me the weird letters. He can’t read them even though he can speak Korean, but his mum promises she’ll teach him when she gets better. He also has a mini-tent in his room shaped like a castle, full of cushions and fairy lights. It’s too small for the two of us so he lets me sit in it. He sits outside and we pat his dog Broom, this fat floppy golden retriever who pants a lot so it looks like he’s laughing. He’s what the dog in Up would look like in real life.
‘Breakfast’s ready!’ Stephanie calls.
We run with Broom to the kitchen. Being suspended is great! Stephanie gives us pancakes with strawberries, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. We do an hour of homework and make a card to say sorry to Miss Sparrow. After that, we watch documentaries about tigers and make paper cranes. Broom wants to be with us but he can’t be trusted around paper, so he sits outside the living room and whimpers.
‘Why didn’t you tell on me?’ I ask Theodore.
‘I didn’t want you to get in trouble,’ he says.
‘But I got you in trouble.’
‘You didn’t mean to!’ he says cheerfully, like he never even cried about it. ‘Anyway, we’ll make it right! Dad says we’ll buy two salt lamps, one for Mum and one for Miss Sparrow. He says only medicine can make Mum better but she might like it because it’s pretty. I think they’re pretty too. Do you want one?’
Theodore’s smile is back. There are photos of Theodore’s mum everywhere. She smiles just like him, with her whole face. I wonder where she is but don’t ask. We make forty-three paper cranes.
I’ve decided Theodore is my friend. I don’t mind if he’s a bit annoying. He doesn’t mind that I’m grumpy or don’t like the same things he likes. When I go home that night, I promise I’m going to be a proper friend from now on. I’ll try not to get angry at him when he sings in my face or tries to make me dance.
I thank Kay for letting me stay at ‘my friend’s house’ and feel warm inside.
The next day, we do our homework after a breakfast of scrambled eggs with sausages and hash browns like you get at hotels. Afterwards, we listen to music and make cranes. Broom howls so we let him in but we yell at him when he tries to pinch one. Theodore teaches me the Korean word for no – AH-NEE! – and we yell it at Broom every time he gets close. Stephanie cleans the house and pops her head in every now and then to ‘check on Broom’ but I know she’s checking on us. Theodore talks about albinos, which are animals and people that are completely white, and the time Broom got beaten up by a small dog because he’s a bit of a wimp. I want to tell Theodore he’s a good friend but I don’t. We make sixty-two paper cranes. On Friday, we make fifty-one. Waffles for breakfast.
The weekend comes and I listen to a radio show online about Alemayehu. It features a presenter, a British-Ethiopian poet, and the author of my Alemayehu book. I feel angry listening to it, with all this talk that tries to justify everything the British did. They make Queen Victoria out like she’s this nice old lady. The poet sticks up for Alemayehu though, saying how they didn’t care for him properly. I google him and find his poem about the Battle of Adwa on YouTube. I listen to it and feel happy again.
‘You’ve done so much research for this one,’ Kay says over my shoulder as the video ends. ‘Once you finish your Alemayehu book, we can move onto the next history.’
I nod, but I just can’t. Not yet.
Monday. First day back at school since being suspended. I hum the POW POW POW! song as I wait for Theodore. He doesn’t come at all, not even late after the bell rings. I say sorry to Miss Sparrow on my own.
‘I understand you wanted to do something nice for your friend,’ Miss Sparrow says. ‘But stealing is never the right thing to do, okay?’
I’m sick of adults saying this. But I reply: ‘I know. I’m sorry.’
At recess I make paper cranes so Theodore can have extra ones when he comes tomorrow.
But Theodore still doesn’t come to school on Tuesday. I spend recess and lunch on my own, making paper cranes and reading. I ask Mrs Harper if I can go on the computers because there’s so much more about Alemayehu online. She says no (she always says no). It rains on Wednesday and the library’s full of noisy people who think it’s okay to yell and run like they do outside. Mrs Harper’s useless at making them shut up. I make paper cranes for Theodore and hope he comes on Thursday.
When the bell rings to go home, Kay isn’t there. Well, I think she isn’t there. Then I see her by the gates talking to Stephanie, who’s crying and wiping her nose on her jumper. Kay nods, frowns and touches her arm. Stephanie then hugs Kay and leaves. Something feels bad. Where’s Theodore?
Kay says nothing but when we get home, she sits me down. I don’t want to have this talk. I don’t want to know what’s happened.
‘You know how Theodore’s been away?’
I nod.
‘His mum died on Monday.’
No.
‘Stephanie says it was unexpected. She’d been sick for a long time but they thought she was getting better.’
No.
‘We’ll go to the funeral on Saturday. It’ll help Theodore if you’re there.’
No, it won’t.
‘I don’t wanna go,’ I say.
‘Neither do I,’ she says. ‘But we will go.’
‘We can’t make it better.’
‘I know. But we still need to go.’
I look down. I try not to cry. Then I go to my room and get all the paper cranes I made for Theodore. I throw them in the bin, all of them. I push them down and cover them in paper towels so I can’t see them.
‘Go away!’ I yell at them.
‘We can burn them,’ Kay says.
‘Really?’ I think of how angry she was when I lit my wig on fire.
‘If it’ll make you feel better.’
I nod. Kay finds a ceramic pot outside. She pulls out the dead plant, digs out some of the soil and together we put the cranes inside. The soil is damp. It takes eleven matches to light them. They all burn to nothing.
We have leftover pasta for dinner that tastes like oil and feels like glue. I take my Alemayehu book to my room. I still can’t read it. I curl up in bed and cry.
Kay comes to me with the History. For once, I say no, pulling the covers up over my face. She touches my back gently through the doona. I scream at her to go away.