Heights and Jumping From Them

By Monday, everyone at school knew I’d been sick from the top of the leisure centre climbing wall.  So did their older brothers and sisters in Molly’s school, so when I got home, I had to explain to her.  I didn’t have to explain why I’d been sick.  She knew I was scared of heights.  I had to explain what I was doing up there in the first place.

‘Roy made me,’ I said.

‘Dad made you?’ said Molly.  ‘Did he know you were scared?  Of course he did!  That’s why he made you!  Tell Liz!’

‘No,’ I said, because I didn’t want any arguments.  I knew my mum wouldn’t like Roy forcing me up the climbing wall, and whenever they disagreed about us children, they’d argue.

‘You’re not her mother!’

‘You’re not his father!’

Or sometimes it went the other way.

‘We’re a family now!  Can’t you show me a bit of support?’

Mum and Roy had to get along.  They’d only just bought the house and moved us in.  Our cat Thor and their dog Sally had just got used to each other.

‘This is not on!’ said Molly.  ‘He’s not your father, and even if he was, he shouldn’t be forcing you!  I didn’t let him force me to swim underwater.  I just didn’t go in, and when he tried to make me I shouted child abuse, and then the lifeguard blew his whistle and came over, and Dad hasn’t touched me since.  You could try that.’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said.  It sounded like it would lead to arguments.

‘I mean, who the hell does he think he is?  How would he like it if…?  Oh!  I’ve got an idea.  Where’s Thor?’

I didn’t know where Thor was, but before I could say so, Molly had gone out into the garden and started calling him.  She called him for about forty-five minutes, on and off.  There were periods of quiet, when she’d go poking around behind the garden shed.  I watched her out of the kitchen window, in between bouts of trying to learn my eight times table.  When Sally tried to join in the game, whatever it was, Molly shoved her into the kitchen and said, ‘Keep her here, James!’  Then she went back up the garden, and Thor appeared.  Molly picked him up and took him behind the shed.  Seconds later, he ran in through the cat flap with a slow worm in his mouth, looking pleased with himself.  He dropped the slow worm onto the floor, gazed up at me and mewed.

‘Clever boy,’ I said, and then I stooped to pick the slow worm up.

‘Don’t,’ said Molly, throwing the back door open and scooping the slow worm up into her hand.  ‘Oh, you’re a wriggler, aren’t you?  Perfect!  Couldn’t catch it by myself.  Knew I’d need Thor.  Well done!’

She scratched Thor’s ears and then ran into the living room with the slow worm.  Sally, Thor and I watched in bewilderment.  I expected something else to happen, but it didn’t, yet.  Molly came back into the kitchen, without the slow worm, and said, ‘Why did you tell him you were scared of heights?’

‘I can’t remember,’ I said, which was a lie, but I felt it was worth telling.  There’d be no end of trouble if Molly knew why I had told Roy, after she’d warned me about him, that I was petrified of heights.

‘Will you test me on my eight times table?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but you’ll have to give me your maths book, because I’ve forgotten it.  I’ve forgotten everything I ever learned at that horrible school, except for how to abseil and bungee jump.  But then again, I didn’t learn that at school, did I?’

For a moment, I was worried.  She’d brought up the root cause of the climbing wall incident without knowing it, and I thought she might click, but she didn’t.  She tested me on my eight times table.  I remembered all of it after a few minutes, and I forgot about the slow worm.

I remembered the slow worm again at about eight o’clock, when I was cleaning my teeth and Mum was tidying my bed.  We both heard the yelling and screaming coming from downstairs.  Sally was joining in, barking like mad.  Thor, snoozing in the middle of the landing, flattened his ears and looked cross.

Mum and I ran downstairs.  We saw Roy pressed up against the front door, using his briefcase as a shield (he’d just come in from work), Molly waving a live slow worm at him and Sally trying to grab it in her jaws.

‘Go on, Dad!’ Molly was saying.  ‘You have to face your fears!  Touch it!  It won’t hurt you!  It won’t drown you, and you can’t fall off it, unlike some things people are frightened of!’

‘For God’s sake, Molly!’ said Roy.

‘What,’ said Mum, ‘is going on here?  Molly, put that horrible thing outside!’

‘It’s harmless,’ said Molly.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Mum.  ‘Why are you terrorising your poor father with a snake?’

‘It’s not a snake,’ said Molly.  ‘And I’m doing it because…’  She looked at me, and I shook my head.  She sighed, then finished up with, ‘I have never got over that day at the swimming pool.’

‘You shouldn’t bear a grudge,’ said Mum.  ‘Take it outside, please.’

Scowling, Molly went.  Roy collapsed onto the sofa, and Mum chivvied me upstairs.  She put me to bed, and I read until Molly came in to see me.

‘I’ve had another idea,’ she said.  ‘We could phone your dad.’

I shook my head.

‘You shouldn’t let him bully you.’

‘It’s all right, Moll.’

‘It is not all right!’ she said, and then she stalked off.

I went to sleep thinking about it.  I had until Saturday to decide whether I could face the climbing wall again, and I had a few weeks to decide about the other thing.  Then Saturday came, and I went with Roy to the leisure centre.  As soon as we went near the climbing wall, a man in shorts ran over and suggested we might like to try something else.

‘Is this because he was sick?’ said Roy.

‘Yes,’ said the man.

‘Bloody fascist!’ said Roy, and then he stormed out, dragging me by the wrist.  He dragged me all the way to the downs, stopping only when we reached the steepest and craggiest hill there.  Then he said, ‘Let’s climb that, mate, shall we?’

He let go of me and started climbing up the hill, without waiting for my answer.  He made it look easy, even though the slope was practically vertical.  I climbed a little way up.  Roy charged ahead.  I kept going, and began to think of climbing down again only when Roy was out of sight.  Then my foot slipped on a pebble, and I froze.  I could go neither up nor down.

‘Come on, mate,’ Roy said when he found me.

I shook my head.

‘It’s getting dark!’  He reached out for me.

‘Don’t touch me!’

He backed off, probably remembering Molly and the swimming pool.

‘I’ll get someone to help,’ he said.  And then he left me there.  Mum won’t like that, I thought, and she didn’t.  I heard them arguing, and Sally barking at the unexpected excitement of a late-night walk.  They all came floating out of the darkness in a halo of torchlight.  Molly was there too.

‘James!’ she called.  ‘I’m so sorry about him!  He’s awful, isn’t he?  How will we ever get you down?’

It was Sally who rescued me.  She bounded up the hill, panting like mad, loving every second.  When she reached me, she licked me until I felt less frightened.  Then, at last, I put my hands on her neck and let her guide me down.  I was slow, and she was patient.  I knew I couldn’t have done it if I’d been able to see where we were going, but in the dark I could pretend the ground beneath me was solid, and I trusted Sally.  She was warm, strong and confident, and she seemed to understand.

‘James!’ Mum said, hugging me.  ‘My poor baby!  Roy, you bloody idiot!’

‘You’re an awful father!’ said Molly.  ‘You never do the right thing!  You’re a pig!  You’re a… a…  James!’  She swung round to face me.  ‘Liz made him explain.  Why didn’t you say he’d signed you up for that school trip without telling anyone?’

‘He told me,’ I said.

‘Only after he’d done it!  So you told him you didn’t want to go because you were scared of heights!  That’s it, isn’t it?  And now this!’

‘Molly, calm down,’ said Mum.  ‘It’s all right, James, you don’t have to go.  Roy might lose the money he paid, but I don’t think any of us really cares about that just now.  What the hell were you thinking, Roy?  You’re not his father!’

‘And even if you were!’ said Molly.  ‘Even if you were!’

‘He has to conquer his fears,’ said Roy.  ‘It’ll be the making of him!’

‘Go into those bushes and pick up the first legless reptile you see!’ said Molly, pointing.

Sally barked, ran into the bushes and came out again with a big stick.

‘Can we go home?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said Mum.

The walk home was uncomfortable.  Mum and Molly were furious.  Roy was sulking.  Sally was trying to get everyone to throw her stick.  I threw it a few times, while we were still in open country, thinking about what I was going to do.

In the morning, I called Dad.  I told him about Roy, and about the school trip to the adventure holiday place, and about the climbing wall.  I decided not to tell him about the downs.

‘He had no right!’ said Dad.

‘I know,’ I said.  ‘Mum’s a bit cross with him.  Molly’s furious.’

‘That Molly looks after you, doesn’t she?’

‘Yes.  But she thinks she’s always right, even if it’s about what other people want to do.  I never said I didn’t want to conquer my fears.’

‘But you never said you did,’ said Dad.  ‘Did you?  Roy made you.’

‘He did make me,’ I said.  ‘And I let him.  But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that I do want to go on this school trip and try the abseiling and stuff.  But I think it’s a good idea to start with something lighter.’

‘Oh?’

‘Not with Roy, though.’

The next weekend, Dad came to take me to the leisure centre near where he lived, and where nobody knew I had ever been sick from the top of a climbing wall.  I was sure it wouldn’t happen again.  I felt in control this time.

‘I suppose,’ Molly said, as she followed us out to the car, ‘this means Dad was right.’

‘No,’ I said.  ‘He never asked me what I wanted to do, about the trip or the climbing wall or the downs or anything.  You were right about that.’

‘But wrong about telling you not to do it,’ said Molly, looking at her feet as though she’d never been wrong before.  ‘I should have told you to do what you wanted.  You’re the only one who can possibly be right about anything you do.’

‘You’re so right, Molly,’ said Dad.  Then he caught sight of Thor over the road, and ran over to him and scooped him into his arms and gushed about how much he’d missed him.

‘I’ve always tried to do the right thing,’ I said, ‘but I thought that meant doing as I was told.’

‘Never,’ said Molly.  ‘The right thing is what you think is best.  Don’t listen to me anymore, will you?  Don’t listen to anyone.’

‘I’ll listen to whoever I want,’ I said, and Molly looked proud of me then, as though I had been her brother all my life.