‘Yes, Mrs Ifíè. We are very proud of Elle. She is a clever girl. But . . .’
She pauses and I hold my breath. I know 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.
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