The Infinite Page 4
I’m looking at the list of names so I can imagine what the people are like and don’t have to think about SOS L and running out of a lesson and being excluded. And not being able to go on Leap 2048. I’ve never run out of a lesson before so I’ll definitely be excluded. But Grandma would be horrified if I was excluded because I have good grades in every subject. I would be horrified too.
They gave us a list of all the pupils on the trip so we can make friends more quickly when we get there. They have the same details so they know about us too. Half the pupils are Annuals from 2048 who’ve sworn the Oath of Secrecy because they have a Leapling with The Gift in their family.
Name Age on
29
February Leap
Year School/
Institution
Ama Atta Asante 14 2048 Music, Maths and Movement
Seren Thomas 13 2048 Music, Maths and Movement
Megan Smith 13 2048 Music, Maths and Movement
Yusuf Ali 15 2048 Music, Maths and Movement
Martin Aston 13 2048 E-College-E
Kate Loftis 12 2048 E-College-E
Ben Novak 12 2020 Intercalary International
Jake Bartholomew 12 2020 Intercalary International
Elle Ifíè 12 2020 Intercalary International
Maria de Santos 12 2020 Intercalary International
GMT 16 1968 Home School
Noon McFarland 16 1924 Governess
I’m really looking forward to meeting Noon McFarland because her name is a palindrome like mine but is extra cool because if you write it in capital letters, NOON, it reads EXACTLY the same upside down AND refers to time. She was taught at home with a governess, which is like a tutor who comes to your house and is very strict. She’s 16 but Mrs C Eckler said she might seem younger than 16-year-olds nowadays because she hasn’t been allowed out very much. And because she won’t be used to things like hairdryers and mobile phones we have to help her adapt.
I can’t wait to meet GMT because she goes to Home School, which means her parents teach her at home, and comes from 1968, so she may have met Bob Beamon at the 1968 Olympic Games in Mexico City. But if she’s travelling from February 1968 the Olympics wouldn’t have started yet. The 1968 Olympics were held in October because it’s so hot in Mexico people would have died of heatstroke if they’d held them in August. But it was high altitude, so runners were flopping down like limp lettuce. There wasn’t enough oxygen.
I’ll be sharing a chalet with Noon and GMT and Ama. Mrs C Eckler says they mixed the ages so some of the older ones can mentor the younger ones, except Noon, who might need mentoring herself. GMT is also 16 and Ama is 14, which is good because I find it easier to talk to people older or a lot younger than me. Big Ben’s the main person my age I speak to. Ama goes to the Music, Maths and Movement School. In 2048, children go to schools depending on what they’re good at. The E-College-E pupils are good at biology and geography and conflict resolution.
I’m excited to meet all these new people but scared because I haven’t met them before. Mrs C Eckler showed us everyone’s photos so I know what they look like. I always remember what I see. Noon has short blonde hair in a bob and big starey eyes; GMT has tanned skin and long black straggly hair that looks like she never combs it; and Ama has a huge ginger afro and a gap in the middle of her teeth. Ama’s going to be my mentor for the week. Big Ben has to share with Jake and two other boys he doesn’t know. He doesn’t like meeting new people and he finds boys harder to talk to than girls. But he liked looking at the photos of the boys and he’s excited about the trip. One of them’s called Martin Aston, which is Aston Martin the other way round. I hope he’s into cars.
I like looking at the list and imagining what the other girls will be like and then I remember I’m going to be excluded and will never meet them anyway. I’ve never been excluded before but I’ve had several red cards and been sent to the Head Teacher lots. I don’t know why they use red cards because school isn’t a football match, it’s learning. When it’s meltdown, and I go from 0 to 10, the last thing I need is a red card. They should give me a white card. A white card would calm me down but a red card makes me dizzy and scared.
The last time I went to the Head was when I hid under the table during maths because Joanne Fletcher was sitting in my seat and told me to get over it, and Mrs Grayling grabbed me by the hands to pull me back to my seat so I could finish my algebra and I wanted to hit her but couldn’t because I’d get excluded if I hit a teacher so I started to scream until they had to get Mrs C Eckler to calm me down.
I’m thinking this when the knocking on the door gets much louder, like the person is angry. Why doesn’t Mrs Leggett open it? Who could be visiting at this time of day? Maybe someone has come to see Grandma. I remember the phone rang several times this morning and I didn’t answer it. My mobile buzzed and I ignored it in case it was another Predictive.
I think about ignoring the door but Grandma shouts from the bedroom.
‘Elle, answer the door. Answer it-o! I’m expecting the Pastor.’
The Pastor sometimes comes to pray over Grandma’s leg to make the pain go away. But it may not be the Pastor. It could be the Leap Police, who’ve come to arrest me for my illegal leap.
‘Elle, rise from this your table before my ears bust. Please, I beg!’
Even if it’s the Police I have to go downstairs and answer the door. But it isn’t the Police with steel handcuffs, or the Pastor smelling of palm oil. It’s Mrs C Eckler.
‘Can I come in, Elle?’ she says. I don’t know why she’s asking, as she’s already walking up the stairs and entering our flat. I close the door and take a deep breath.
Either she’s come to exclude me for running out of class without time-out permission or for running away from her car. Time-out permission is when I’m allowed to leave class to do running round the track. I couldn’t ask for time-out permission yesterday because my voice stopped working and my legs wanted to run home rather than round the track but I ended up leaping instead. I hope she doesn’t know about THAT.
She’s looking around the room and I feel ashamed of the damp patch that grows mushrooms on the wall behind the television. The mushrooms are grey and look like ears you’ve scrunched up in your hands. I don’t know what kind of mushrooms they are, but I bet they have a long name in Latin and if you eat them you’ll die. Even though I cut them down and scrub the patch every Saturday, they never really go away. Mrs C Eckler is turning her head, looking like she’s lost something.
‘Is your grandmother here?’
I point towards the bedroom door and, at the same time, Grandma says, ‘Elle, who is here?’
I open the bedroom door and Mrs C Eckler follows me into the bedroom. I’m not happy. No one gave her permission to enter the bedroom. Does she think she owns the flat? But Grandma is sitting up in bed, now wearing her yellow-and-blue fish headtie and smiling.
‘Mrs Eckler, you are welcome. Please. Take a seat.’
Grandma missed out the C but I don’t think Mrs C Eckler is offended. No one knows what the C stands for. Some people think it’s Carol but I have a better idea. I think it stands for 100 because C is 100 in Roman numerals.
I don’t know why Grandma is pleased to see Mrs C Eckler. I’m about to be excluded from Intercalary International. Grandma extends her hand to Mrs C Eckler and says, ‘I am very pleased with the progress Elle is making in her PPF.’
I’m a Level 4, which is almost the equivalent of GCSE level, exceptional for a Seventh Year. I’m pleased Grandma is pleased, but I don’t think she knows what PPF really is. Grandma never learnt to read and write. Even though she can’t read herself and does know what it’s about, she won’t let me read Harry Potter because ‘na full of witchcrafts’. She doesn’t understand there are good witchcrafts and bad witchcrafts. Harry Potter is about good overcoming evil.
‘Yes, Mrs Ifíè. We are very proud of Elle. She is a clever girl. But . . .’
She pauses and I hold my breath. I kno
w what she’s going to say.
‘Elle has been bullied by one of the other children. We take bullying very seriously at Intercalary International.’
My mouth falls open in a capital O for Oops. This is not what I was expecting. Even though it’s a good surprise, I still find it difficult to cope with the change. If I was talking, this would make me tongue-tied. But as I’m already tongue-tied, my heart beats fast like it wants to jump out of my chest. For a moment, I feel so panicked I wish Mrs C Eckler had excluded me. Big Ben says Oops is like when you drive your car five miles down a narrow country lane then suddenly have to reverse because a tractor’s coming from the opposite direction. Reversing back to the junction’s much harder than driving forwards. You could turn the steering wheel the wrong way and end up in a ditch.
Grandma is now sitting up in bed but I can tell she is in a lot of pain because her eyes are still scrunched like she’s just woken up. She looks at Mrs C Eckler, then at me.
‘On the seventh day, God took rest. Not the fourth.’ Her eyes go big as Jupiter. ‘Elle, why are you not in school?’
Mrs C Eckler speaks quickly.
‘Elle has been granted some time off while we deal with the bullying.’
Mrs C Eckler is lying. No one gave me permission to stay off school, but I’m still not talking so I don’t say anything. Grandma doesn’t understand bullying. At the age of 12, she had left school and was looking after her younger brothers and sisters in the village in Nigeria. But she always wished she’d studied longer so she could read and write. She worships teachers almost as much as God. If Mrs C Eckler says I can stay at home, then Grandma is happy. She smiles from her bed.
‘Elle, make this your teacher a cup of tea.’
I go to the kitchen to boil the kettle but can hear everything Mrs C Eckler is saying, how all the speeches were recorded so they have the bullying on record, how the bully has been excluded for a week, how she’s going to put me on a special support programme after the school trip. AFTER the trip. So I’m still allowed to go. I’m happy until I remember I don’t want to go because the Predictive means someone’s in danger and I have to save them and I don’t know how. But at the same time I want to go because I’ve been looking forward to this trip for weeks. I pour the boiling water into the mug and add the evaporated milk and one sugar. That’s how I like it.
When I go back into the bedroom, Mrs C Eckler sips the tea and makes a face like it’s too hot. But I added loads of milk, so it can’t be.
‘Elle, are you happy about going on the Leap 2048 trip?’
I lower my eyes. I can’t lie. But I can’t tell Mrs C Eckler about the Predictive. Now that I’m not excluded, and I’m allowed to go, I really don’t want to. I’m scared. I shake my head. Grandma addresses Mrs C Eckler.
‘She refuses to talk. What for? Even last night she could not say Amen after evening prayer. What evil spirit is possessing her?’ She kisses her teeth.
Mrs C Eckler is facing Grandma but she says, ‘Elle, I think you’re not talking because the bully has threatened you. But don’t worry. They will be punished.’
I smile. Mrs C Eckler is kind but she doesn’t understand the real reason I’m not talking. It wasn’t the bullying; it was the bullying plus the text message. Events were one on top of the other, like words that are impossible to read. I can’t tell her.
She continues, still looking at Grandma because she knows I don’t like it when people stare at me, ‘But Leap 2048 is special and you are my star pupil. It’s the chance of a lifetime. There will never be another opportunity to make that leap.’
She says the next bit to Grandma.
‘This trip will be good for Elle’s confidence. The future is better for Leaplings like Elle. I’ve seen them thrive.’ She pauses. ‘Elle has formal permission to stay at home tomorrow . . .’ She produces some forms for Grandma to sign. As if Grandma can read what they say. They could say anything, like Elle will be executed tomorrow, and Grandma would still sign them for Mrs C Eckler. ‘I can collect you here at 5:45 on Saturday morning. What do you say?’
I’m still looking at the floor when I’m aware Grandma is facing me. I can almost feel the steam coming off her, the force of her all-the-better-to-see-you-with-eyes, like the wolf in Red Riding Hood.
‘Elle Bíbi-Imbelé Ifíè! Did I not teach you? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Mrs C Eckler is helping you. You must help her back. She has arranged a trip for you. It is your duty to attend.’
She slumps back into the bed like a toy that’s run out of batteries. I was raised to respect my elders and I’ve never disobeyed Grandma before, apart from reading Harry Potter.
Mrs C Eckler looks at me for the first time in minutes. I’m thinking about the quote. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I want to help Mrs C Eckler but I’m also thinking about SOS L. If someone IS in trouble, it’s my duty to help them.
Bob Beamon had two fouls before he got through to the Olympic final in 1968. He kept jumping over the board. His teammate told him to change his run-up so he could take off on his right foot and he jumped 2 feet before the board and managed to make it through to the final. 8 metres 90 was his first jump in the final. If his teammate hadn’t helped him, he would never have had the chance to make his record-breaking jump.
Mrs C Eckler is helping me like a teammate.
I make sure Mrs C Eckler is watching before I nod my head. And she smiles.
Chapter 05:00
LEAP 2048
Today is the 29th of February 2020. My birthday! I’m 3-leap. 12 years old! And I’m going to 2048!
I sit up on the sofa and find my phone. I sleep on the sofa because we only have one bedroom and Grandma snores. Not that I slept much last night. I stayed up till midnight so I could be awake for the first minute of my birthday. Then I went to sleep but kept waking up. My head was throbbing because Grandma cornrowed my hair into four rows, tight enough to last the week. When I arrive, I’ll take it out and put it in bunches. I prefer it like that even though I have to plait it every night. I hope I sleep better in 2048. Last night, I heard the clock tower chime every hour on the hour.
I check my phone to see if I have any messages before the trip. Mrs C Eckler said we’re allowed to bring our phones but they might not work in 2048. We’ll be allocated Chronophones when we arrive. They can send messages across time: past, present and future. I haven’t had any more messages since the Predictive. I look at the message for one last time, then delete it. It’s in my mind with all the details: Sent Tue 3 Mar 2048. 23:00. As soon as I’ve deleted it I regret it, but I’m scared that if a grown-up finds my phone I’ll get into trouble. It’s not lying but you might call it destroying the evidence.
Even if something’s deleted, it still happened.
Grandma’s shuffling around in the bedroom. She always wakes up early to pray and I know she wants to pray with me before I go. She made white moi-moi for me to have for breakfast and take on the trip. Moi-moi is made from black-eyed beans, but when you soak them the skin comes off, so only the white beans are ground up. It’s usually orange when cooked because you add stew made of pureed onions and tomatoes but, for me, Grandma just put onions and seasoning in it. It’s not white; it’s grey, but still colourless and yummy.
My suitcase is so heavy I can hardly lift it off the floor, but Mrs C Eckler will help me carry it. It’s heavy because I’ve taken some yams. I don’t think they’ll have yams in 2048 and I eat yam every day so want to have enough. Mrs C Eckler said I was allowed to take some of my favourite foods because of my sensory issues. Big Ben will be pleased because his favourite food is spicy, so I said I would make him some pepper soup.
Grandma has reached the section of the prayer where she asks for my safe transport when my phone buzzes and I realise Mrs C Eckler has arrived. Grandma’s eyes are closed so I have to interrupt.
‘Grandma, Mrs C Eckler is here.’
She talks over me until she finishes the prayer with the words, �
�Elle, answer the door!’
I obey. I didn’t know she heard me. Maybe I didn’t say it out loud, only in my head. I haven’t spoken aloud for two days. I tiptoe downstairs, as we mustn’t wake the other tenants this early. Mrs C Eckler is with her husband, who’s coming on the trip to help. He’s a Leapling as well. Leaplings often marry each other because it makes it easier to go on holiday together. I don’t know whether to call him Mr Eckler or Mr C Eckler. I decide not to speak to him directly.
Mrs C Eckler has her ginger hair piled high on her head as usual but a large white flower pinned on the left-hand side. Her husband is very tall and is wearing sunglasses. In February! He carries my suitcase down the stairs like it weighs nothing. Grandma insists on hobbling after him so she can see me off outside. She breathes out heavily with each step and I worry she might struggle to get back up again. She hugs me so hard I can’t breathe but I like that much more than when she squeezes my hand. Then she turns back into the house and I get into the back of Mrs C Eckler’s bright red Audi Ur-Quattro.
Big Ben says it’s too old to go properly fast, but I like it. Mrs C Eckler says it was made in 1984, which was the year she was born, and it was a birthday present from her husband four years ago. I’ve been in it before when I’ve had to go home from school in the middle of the day. I like old cars better than new ones, but Big Ben always likes the latest version of everything. He wants to design cars when he’s a grown-up.
It’s another cold day and still pitch black. We go the opposite route to the one I ran home. Mrs C Eckler drives. She won’t let her husband drive the car, ever. She says it’s hers, which is true. But she’s not a very good driver, she goes 35 in a 30-miles-per-hour limit. That’s illegal. Mr C Eckler has been given strict instructions. His job is to carry the suitcases out of the car to Block T once we reach the school. We must assemble in Room 4D, which is named after the fourth dimension, space–time. The other dimensions are height, breadth and depth. We never have PPF lessons in Room 4D. It’s reserved exclusively for leaps.