Balaclava Boy (school edition). Jenny Robson

      Do you have brothers and sisters? Do you have a PlayStation?

      I wanted to laugh. We sounded just like a stupid boring Comprehension ourselves! The only question we didn’t ask was: why are you wearing that thing on your head?

      Tommy answered all the questions through his red-and-orange stripes. It was quite hard to hear what he was saying. At last he sat down and opened his lunch-box. Dumisani and I sat down too, one on each side of him. We held our breath.

      But we held our breath for nothing! Tommy didn’t take off his balaclava. He just pulled the stripes away from his neck and his mouth and slid his tomato sandwich up underneath. It was very disappointing.

      Our friend Obakeng was yelling at us now. “Hey, Doo Dudes. Let’s have ourselves some soccer! Bring that new guy along.”

      Tommy was a bit nervous at first. “Me too? Are you sure? I only ever played a few times before. So I’m not sure…”

      But Dumisani promised he’d help and explain anything Tommy didn’t understand. And then we ran down to the field. X-man and Riyaad and Johan Eksteen Clayton and Moketsi from our class were there already. Plus some guys from Grade Seven JH.

      Tommy turned out to be one mean player. Very mean! Especially for someone with most of his head covered.

      When the bell rang, Obakeng aka Ostrich Legz yelled, “Hey, Balaclava Boy! Tomorrow you’re on my side. Okay, bru?”

      “You shouldn’t be so nosey!” Cherise was bossing us around from the girls’ line. “It’s Tommy’s private business. If Mr Rasool says he’s allowed to wear it, then it’s got nothing to do with you two.”

      We were lined up on the netball court with the rest of the school. Obakeng yanked Tommy into the front of the boys’ line with him. But Dumisani and I got stuck halfway down, close to Cherise. She was giving us a lecture as usual.

      “You wait!” Dumisani told her. “Straight after school, soon as we’re out the gates, we’re going to ask him. Straight out. When there’s no one else around. Then first thing tomorrow we’ll tell you why!”

      “Yeah,” I added. “Because you’re dying to know, Cherise. Come on, don’t pretend. You and everyone else.”

      And it was the truth! All the Grade Sevens were staring at our new boy. Plus the Grade Five twits. Even the Grade Eight bullies were having a good look.

      Miss Venter waited to lead us back to class for stupid boring Geography. Well, it was stupid and boring at the moment. Who cares where maize is grown? Who cares how apples are exported?

      “First thing tomorrow, Cherise,” Dumisani was promising. “You just wait…”

      But Miss Venter was on our case again. “Dumisani! Doogal! Cherise! Dear! Dear! Dear!”

      *

      Yes, there is a Grade Eight at our school even though it is called Colliery Primary. But only a few pupils stay on for Grade Eight. Most of us leave at the end of Grade Seven for boarding school. There is no high school here in the mining town. And no high school anywhere close by. Outside of the mine and the Power Station, there are mostly farms and rural villages.

      That’s why I suddenly get these feelings of sadness. Because I remember: only six more months and then I will have to go to a boarding school in White River.

      But even worse: Dumisani is not going there with me! No, he will go to his grandmother in Port Shepstone and attend high school there.

      Just six months to go! And then I will lose my best friend in the world and be alone and in some strange place.

      Post-reading

1.	Mr Rasool tells the children to be kind to the newcomer. Why do you think Doogal and Dumisani walk around the playground with Tommy at break-time?
2.	What do the Doo Dudes find disappointing about the way Tommy eats his lunch?
3.	How do you think Obakeng got his nickname?
4.	Why does Obakeng want Balaclava Boy to be on his side the next day?
5.	The boys call Comprehension “stupid and boring”. Later they say the same thing about Geography and Maths. Do you think that they really mean this? Explain.
6.	Doogal will be going to boarding school in a different town. Where will Dumisani be going?
7.	How does this make Doogal feel?

      Pre-reading

1.	Do you have a nickname? If so, how do you feel about it? Can you think of any nicknames that are clever but hurtful?

      During reading

2.	Each child has a different way of speaking. This helps us to imag­ine each character. Obakeng says “My bruz” and JECO says “eish”. What about Thandi and some of the others? What does this tell us about them?

      3. Maths

      “So, Double Trouble? Did you find out?” Cherise wanted to know, first thing on Tuesday morning.

      It was early, long before line-up. The Power Station siren was only just going off. Thandi and Hannah were only just starting their clapping game, chanting at the tops of their voices. Thandi and Hannah do everything at the tops of their voices!

      It was weird, being at school early. Usually I have to wait and wait outside Dumisani’s house. Usually he comes rushing out, still eating his toast. And with his bag and his track suit half-zipped. And then we have to run to get to school before the line-up bell. This morning, instead, he was the one waiting for me!

      “And so, Double Trouble? What’s the answer then?” Cherise was there on the netball court with her hands on her hips.

      Dumisani and I hate being called Double Trouble. Our proper nickname is the Doo Dudes. Or else, the Big Ds. Even though only Dumisani is big. I’m quite short. Nearly as short as Yasmiena.

      So we put down our bags and pretended Cherise wasn’t even there.

      “That’s strange, Doogz,” Dumisani said. “I thought Cherise said we shouldn’t be nosey.”

      “Yeah, you’re right, Dumz,” I said. “I’m sure she said it was Balaclava Boy’s private business.”

      Cherise was getting annoyed now. “Grow up!” she told us. Cherise is always telling the other Grade Sevens to grow up. Especially us.

      Dumisani seemed about to tease Cherise some more. But then he changed his mind. “Okay, Cherise. We asked Tommy. Straight out, right? And he said ‘Because.’ That’s all.”

      “Because?” Cherise frowned hard under her fringe.

      We nodded. That was the truth. That’s the only answer Tommy gave us there outside the school gates.

      Cherise put her hands on her hips again. “That’s not a proper answer! It has to be ‘Because – something.’ You can’t say ‘Because’ and then stop. That doesn’t make sense!”

      Just then, Tommy walked through the school gates. Today he was wearing a navy-blue balaclava.

      For a second, I wanted to run over and yank that navy-blue balaclava right off his head and see what was underneath. But of course you can’t do something like that. No matter how much you want to!

      Cherise said, “You watch, Big Ds. I’ll get a proper answer. I’ll use psychology.”

      Psychology! That sounded like a good word! I said it over in my mind a few times to remember it.

      But Dumisani laughed. “Bet you it doesn’t work, Clever Clogs.” Then we ran down to join the early morning soccer game. Tommy was already there, playing on Obakeng’s side. He even scored a goal! We had a great time. Well, until the Grade Eight bullies