He was correct. The boy had vanished again.
Jonathan scuffed the gravel with his shoes as he left the park. He was not too bothered. The boy had been wearing a Saint Michael’s uniform, so sooner or later they would meet up in school. He wondered if the boy had ever been persecuted by Robbo, Smudger and Bingo. Probably not. There was something about him, despite his cheery, open appearance; something that hinted he was not to be messed about or pushed, a certain quality about the dark eyes and firm-set jaw. If they made friends and got to know one another, maybe the boy would help Jonathan. There he was again, peering from behind a tree on Chestnut Avenue. This time Jonathan did not give chase, he hid behind another tree and peered back. The two boys dodged along the length of the avenue, diving back and forth between the trees, waving, smiling at each other, and sometimes pulling grotesque funny faces. Jonathan approached the final tree stealthily, pretty sure that this time he would surprise his will-o’-the-wisp chum. The back flap of the boy’s blazer was visible, poking around a tree trunk like a tiny red banner.
Jonathan sneaked up; grinning broadly he grabbed it tight. “Gotcha!” A red plastic supermarket bag hung limply from his hand.
Jonathan tossed it in the air, laughing aloud. Whoever he was, that boy was certainly a fast mover. Laughter from the other side of the road mingled with his own. The strange boy was sitting on Jonathan’s garden gate, swinging to and fro. Jonathan shook a fist and pulled a face of comic rage.
“I’ll get you!”
The boy swung out of sight behind the gate column.
Jonathan searched the garden, behind the holly bush, around the lavender. He peered up into the beech tree. Nothing.
Climbing the side garden wall he thought he saw the boy, dodging off, hiding in gateways, peeking from bushes. As he disappeared along the avenue Jonathan waved to his friend.
“Jonathan! Get off that wall this instant!”
“Coming, Aunt Helen.”
“I don’t suppose your father would be too pleased if he saw you clambering up walls in your new school uniform. Don’t have me writing to tell him. Come in for tea now.”
Next day the insurance firm R.S.B. Limited stepped up its activities. Jonathan had to attend behind the sports hut at morning break, lunchtime and afternoon break. When he arrived there that afternoon Kate was singing in a mournful little voice:
“To save us all from Satan’s power
When we have gone astray,
O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.”
Bingo flicked her cigarette away.
“Very good, caroler, I prefer that one to ‘Good King Wenceslas.’ You can do it again in the morning.”
Robbins interrupted.
“Unless you’d rather pay, let me see. Two school weeks and two days, that’s six pounds.”
Kate’s face was straight, her voice expressionless. “I’d rather sing.”
Smith dismissed her with a nod. “Coalman, you’re next.”
Kate stepped to one side as Jonathan stood in front of the trio. Smith accentuated each word by tapping Jonathan’s nose.
“Bet you haven’t brought any money with you today, eh?”
Jonathan shook his head dumbly. Robbins scuffed up dirt with his shoe. “Come on then, mucky face time again.”
Wordlessly Jonathan placed his palms in the loose damp soil and began dabbing it on his cheeks. He made a point of not looking at anyone while he was doing it, telling himself in his mind that this was not happening to him, but to someone else. He looked over Kate’s shoulder at the corner of the hut. The boy was there, poking his head around the corner, unseen by the others. He was smearing mud on his own face, shaking with silent laughter as if it were all some huge joke. Jonathan could not help it—he started laughing too, pantomiming his friend, smearing the mud in exactly the same way.
Robbins looked uneasy. “What’s up with him, has he flipped his lid?”
The boy stuck out his tongue, waggling it. Jonathan roared with glee and imitated him. Bingo stood up, shaking her head.
“Come on, there’s the buzzer. Let’s get away from this nutcase.”
When they had gone, Kate shook him by the sleeve.
“Jonathan, what on earth’s the matter with you?”
Tears of laughter ran down his cheeks. He held his side with one hand as he pointed with the other.
“Oh hahaha! It’s my friend, can’t you see him, Kate!”
Kate gazed at the corner of the hut. “Where? I can’t see anyone.”
The boy had vanished again.
When Jonathan had his laughter under control, he tried explaining. Kate shook her head in disbelief as they walked back across the field. Nothing he said could convince her. She was becoming angry.
“All right then, describe him. What did he look like?”
“Oh, about my height, I suppose, dark brown hair, brown eyes, school uniform—looked a bit like me, I suppose.”
Kate snorted. “Fibber! I’ve never seen anyone in school like that, ‘cept you. You’re just trying to make me look as big a fool as you.”
“Kate, no, honestly, he was there—”
“I’ve got to go, I’m late for class already. You’d better clean that stuff off your face and get to class, too.”
Jonathan watched her go, then something made him look upward. There was the boy again, still with mud on his face, looking out of the principal’s office on the upper floor. He pressed his face flat against the window and blew out his cheeks. Jonathan roared anew with merriment and waved to him. “Be careful you’re not caught.”
The boy pulled in his chin, pointing to himself as if to say, “Me, get caught, don’t be silly!”
Jonathan ran into the washroom laughing heartily.
Next morning Jonathan had a slight temperature. Nothing to worry about, Aunt Helen said, but he would be better staying in bed that day. He slept through the morning and by lunchtime was feeling much better. Aunt Helen allowed him to come downstairs and they lunched together in the kitchenette. She decided that he still looked a bit pale and should stay away from school until next day.
Jonathan messed about in the garden that afternoon; it was a fine sunny day. Finally he grew restless. There had been no sign of his friend all afternoon, though he had expected him to show up at any moment. Perhaps he could have cut classes and sneaked over to see him. He seemed the type who would do that for a friend. Maybe he would still come. Jonathan hoped he would.
Jonathan swung to and fro upon the gate, looking up and down the avenue; he even scrambled into the low branches of the beech tree to keep watch. But the strange boy never came that afternoon.
Kate had seen Jonathan several times at school that day, but she had not spoken to him for trying to take her for a fool the previous afternoon. He smiled as they passed on the corridor, looking as if he might try to stop and talk to her, but Kate held herself aloof, sweeping grandly past with her nose in the air. Jonathan did not turn up for his sessions with Robbo, Smudger and Bingo. They never said anything, though it was plain to Kate that they were working themselves up into a nasty mood. This meant trouble for them both. Silently disliking Jonathan for his silly behavior, she carried bravely on with her singing at the afternoon inquisition.
“To save us all from Satan’s power When we have gone astray… .”
“Go on, beat it, caroler. Get back to your class.” Bingo dismissed Kate and sat drumming her heels against the upturned garbage can. She was in a foul humor. Robbins and Smith waited instructions.