THE BOY’S BIG TOE

Just a little idea.

Billy Roebuck had big ideas for his age.

He knew a thing or three about some of the things his sister, older than him by a good three yearrs and called Sally, got up to when their parents were looking the other way, and he decided he wanted a taste of the action himself, and one particular new year’s eve he decided to earn a few gold stars for himself by joining in.

He had one major problem and that was the thing or three he thought he knew were totally based on a mixture of smutty playground jokes and guesses.

The thing was, Ralph would call for her, she’d do a bit of girlie giggling and vanish off ito the darkness of late evening with him and not return until the dot of eleven pm, the time she was always told she must be back home OR ELSE. Mum and dad were always firm about that.

Now, Billy wasn’t a nasty boy, not the sort to want to ruin things for a big sister that he both adored and hated in just about equal measure. It might seem to be a weird mixture, but he had good reasons for adoring her because she smiled at him a lot, ruffled his hair when she giggled (and he liked that) and give him secret smiles when his parents had a reason for telling him off. He hated her because he got told off quite a lot and she never did even though she vanished for hours on end with Ralph and never told him where she went and what she did. With Ralph. A boy with blonde hair and the sort of cheeky expression on his face that Billy couldn’t stand the sight of.

Having said all that he decided the only course of action for him was to follow her and satisfy his curiosity that way. Secretly, so that she had no idea he was anywhere near here, but thought he was up in his bedroom reading a boring book or playing on an equally boring computer game. The thing about Billy was he preferred the boring book to the computer game even though Jake Rissole said it was really fun. Because it wasn’t, though to his mind the book was.

Trailing the two teenagers was easy because they laughed and joked a lot, held hands (which he thought was dreadfully sissy) and made for Ralph’s big back garden two streets away.

Ralph lived in a posh house. It had quite a few more than two bedrooms in it, Ralph had once let drop that every bedroom had what he called an en suite, and the house was surrounded by a wall made of stone that looked as if it might hve been erected by prehistoric farmers, whatever they might have been. But there was one secret way into the rear of its huge garden and that involved a dustbin for climbing on, a shed roof for jumping from and a tiny lawn for landing on.

Billy watched them do it. He watched Ralf climb easily onto the top of a metal dustbin, heave himself onto the roof of the shed thaat was adjacent to the wall, help Sally by leaning over and letting her almost pull him down as she heaved herself up, and then leap from the shed roof onto soft grass on the other side. Then he watched them as they vanished into the shed. Then silence. Not a sound except for the odd little giggle he recognised as belonging to his evil (at that moment) sister Sally.

They’d been in that shed for what seemed like ages, though it was probably no more than a few minutes when he decided the time was up. He was a brave brother and Ralf was clearly an evil teenage sex maniac (he’d heard the term in the playground and he had no clear idea what it meant other than the person being called it was somehow evil)

Climbing onto the shed roof wasn’t too difficult because the dustbin was really convenient and the way up to the roof was really quite easy for a boy with muscles in his legs. Once on the roof (and it was a good solid shed roof) things didn’t look quite so simple. The jump down onto the lawn on the other side in the dark seemed an awfully long way.

What if he broke a leg landing on what he couldn’t see?

But Sally had done it with ease, and though she was bigger than him she was, after all, a girl and from what everyone assumed that meant he must be the stronger of the two.

So he swallowed, thought bravely of being strong, and jumped down.

Landing on something sharp and exceedingly painful.

He yelped at the top fo his voice, which made the shed door open and two teenage figures look out in horror.

“I thought it was a fox!” exclaimed Sally, “but no, nothing as exciting as a fox! It’s my sneaky little brother!”

There was a dim light in the shed and from the faint way it illuminated the place where he’d landed he could tell that in his ignorance he’d landed on an ornate wooded border to a pretty little lawn. And he’d landed smack on the border, which was no more than a cunningly created collection of splinters. He could even see in the barely visible illumination that his foot was bleeding. He’d actually done himself some damage! Apparently Ralf and Sally knew where to jump to so that they’d miss that rotten border and its barbed edging!

”What are you doing here?” demanded Sally, looking more fierce than he’d ever seen her look before, “were you following us?”

There was nothing for it. He nodded miserably as he struggled to rub a bleeding big toe.

“Get him in the shed,” suggested Ralf, “or the whole neighbourhood will know what a creep your little brother is!”

“Hear that!” hissed Sally, “you’re a creep!”

“I didn’t mean any harm,” he struggled to murmur through a pain that refused to go away even though he was rubbing it gently.

He tried to rise onto his feet but the damaged leg protested and he found himsel actually crying, which was something a boy like him never did. Ralf grabbed hold of him by one arm and the undamaged leg and lauled him into the shed.

Inside, there were only two small tea-light candles illuminating the space. By one window was a telescope that was aimed up towards the flickering stars. Opposite it was a blackboard and complex array of chalk dots and marks showing what those looking through that telescope must have seen.

“We’re astronomers,” explained Sally when he saw the puzzled expression on his face, “now come here, let me see to that big toe of yours before you get septicaemia or something rotten like that.”

And she carefully picked up a pretty piece of material where it lay on a small wooden shelf, spat on it, and gently wiped around the cut on his big toe.

And he saw what she was using.

It was actually a pair of her own knickers that she was using, and Ralf had the guts to look uncomfortable when he saw the way Billy’s eyes almost popped out when he saw them.

Maybe excuses would have to follow. And disinfected explanations.

© Peter Rogerson 01.01.23

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Reviews

[New Yorkshire]

Such a simple story on the surface, with real life experience exposed in the space of a few hours. I think the way you captured sibling rivalry and the innocence (ignorance?) of a young boy too eager to grow up.

[Peter Rogerson]

Thanks for your comments. One of my favourite starts for a short story is to start with a character's name and see where that takes me.

[New Yorkshire]

You're very welcome! I like that approach to writing a story! (My English teacher brain just kicked into gear with new ways to help my students get started, so thank you!)