Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,153
way my voice carried through the air. Except all of this was nothing more than an impossible fantasy. The punishment Malcolm was about to get for speaking out, for simply being himself, was evidence of that.
When we reached the gates, I felt a surge of hope when I saw that Stan and Greg weren’t there and their motorbikes were nowhere to be seen, but when Tracey’s expression brightened and she gave a little fluttery wave I turned to see Stan and Greg standing about thirty yards away, their bodies tucked behind a stand of trees. She rapidly explained her plan to the Debbies. “Stan and Greg are hiding,” she told them, “until nancy boy shows up. Wouldn’t want to frighten him off, now, would we?” The Debbies nodded, exchanging eager looks.
As I watched Tracey strut about, the picture of impatience, I stood rooted to the spot while my heart resounded through my body, as loud as my mother’s sledgehammer when she’d driven those metal stakes into the ground. I kept hoping that Malcolm would see through Tracey’s ruse, make his way instead to the car park, get on his bus, and go home. But this was not to be. And when I saw Malcolm leave the main entrance of the school and begin walking toward us, his long-limbed gait unmistakable even from that distance, it was as if one of those cold metal stakes had been driven into my gut.
Tracey, on the other hand, let out a joyful little gasp, and as Malcolm came closer she smiled and waved at him, as if she were greeting a long-awaited friend. Then she turned to the Debbies and me. “Move back from the gates a bit,” she said, gesturing us to follow her as she stepped a few yards from the entrance. “I don’t want anyone in the school to see us. Besides, I want to get closer to Stan and Greg.” The two of them had ducked all the way behind the trees now.
“Hiya,” Tracey said when Malcolm was within a few feet of us. “I’d almost given up on you. Thought you weren’t going to show up.” She swung her ponytail and smiled. I gnawed on my lip as I watched.
“I heard that you wanted to talk to me,” he said.
“Yeah,” Tracey said. “There’s something I want to tell you.” She stepped toward him. I clenched my hands into fists so tight I could feel my fingernails pressing like tiny blades into my palms. “I just wanted to say—” And then Tracey reached out and grabbed hold of both of Malcolm’s arms.
“What the hell are you doing?” he said, jerking his arms about and trying to shake her off.
Tracey held on tight, clutching at the thick woolen fabric of his blazer. “I’ve got him, I’ve got him!” she yelled over her shoulder.
At this, Malcolm ceased his struggle for a moment. “What the hell—?” And then his voice faltered as he saw Greg and Stan charge out from behind the stand of trees.
“You’re going to get your head kicked in.” Stan sang the words as he galloped over the grassy verge and onto the path. As he ran his blond hair flared behind him, his lips twisted into a lopsided snarl, and his eyes, narrowed and focused completely on Malcolm, glinted like coins catching the sun. He moved faster than Greg, who was wearing platform shoes and stumbled clumsily over the uneven grass before reaching the pavement to clunk along the asphalt after Stan.
Malcolm struggled to free himself from Tracey’s hold, fighting more fiercely now, his arms flailing while he kicked and shoved and tried to pry her fingers from his sleeves. Even next to Tracey he looked slight, but in contrast to the looming forms of Greg and Stan he seemed scrawny, hopelessly light, as if with a single blow they might send him flying into the air and he would land lifeless on the pavement.
This was not, however, what made me do it. It was the look Malcolm gave me as he wrestled with Tracey. At first I saw his fear, a sheer animal panic. It blazed, a conflagration in his cheeks, flames in his eyes. But beneath that fear I saw the fire of his accusation. When, that look demanded of me, will you stand up for what you know is right? So it was then, with Stan fast approaching me on the footpath, that I lifted my satchel from my shoulder, grabbed the strap, swung it back,