The Day I Was Erased Read online

  There were four dinner ladies in the kitchen. One of them was singing opera, badly, and they were all too busy laughing to notice me, or the THUD of the books landing in the bottom of the bin. I grabbed a few paper napkins that were on the side by the cutlery and threw them on top so the books couldn’t be seen. I then ran to geography and was in my seat before the teacher had even looked up from her desk. Easy.

  I don’t know how I managed to get caught for dumping the books. One of those beady-eyed dinner ladies must have noticed. Mrs Lloyd, our head teacher, summoned me to her office during last period and told me the good news: a week of detention and a phone call to my parents. My whole plan to try and avoid any more arguments at home had totally backfired.

  After my last day of detention, I decided to take a longer walk home to avoid the shouting while I could. I took a detour down Palmerston Avenue and saw that there was something lying in the road. At first I thought it was an old fur coat, but then it moved. It was a dog! It had long brown ears, a white body and black and brown patches on its back and legs. It was panting and its conker-coloured eyes looked all watery. There were no cars coming so I stepped out on to the street.

  “Hello, boy,” I said, ’cos he wasn’t called Monster yet. “Are you hurt?”

  The dog slapped his lips together and swallowed and then started licking his back paw. He didn’t have a collar on and the fur around his foot was dark with blood. He tried to get up but as soon as he put his foot on to the tarmac, he whined.

  “It’s your paw, isn’t it?” I said. “Have you hurt it?”

  I don’t know why I was talking to him. I think I was probably trying to keep him calm like they do on those ambulance emergency programmes on TV. I was just going to see if I could get him to stand up again when I heard a car. To start with, I wasn’t that worried. I waited for the driver to spot me waving my arms and slow down. But the car didn’t slow down. In fact, it sped up. If the driver didn’t see me soon then I’d have to jump out of the way and the dog would be flattened like a pancake.

  “Hey!” I shouted at the car. “Hey! Slow down! There’s an injured animal here!”

  The driver was on his phone and was looking at himself in his mirror.

  “Hey! Get off your phone! Slow down!” I yelled. At the very last second the driver looked up and swerved around us.

  “Stupid idiot!” I screamed after him. I crouched down and the dog swallowed and licked my hand.

  “That was a close one,” I said. “Right, let’s get you home.” I scooped him up in my arms, which was pretty hard to do because he was really heavy, and then staggered home.

  Now, if you’re ever thinking of walking for half a mile while carrying a chubby dog with a bad paw then I’d suggest you think again. It wasn’t easy. And although he seemed quite happy about being carried, his breath stank and he kept licking the side of my face.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” I huffed. “But … you know … you might want to … leave off some of the treats. You’re not a dog – you’re a monster.” I smiled to myself.

  “Yeah, Monster. That’s who you are,” I said.

  When I got home I put him on the kitchen table, which probably wasn’t the best thing to do. Mum hit the roof.

  “What were you thinking bringing a strange dog home, Maxwell? And putting him on the table like that – he could have rabies! He could be vicious and have a nasty bite!”

  The dog looked up at us both then gave a huge sigh and let off a fart so loud the table shuddered. I snorted but Mum just looked horrified.

  “I couldn’t leave him there, Mum. He would have died. There was a man on his phone and he drove at us really fast without spotting us and…”

  Mum gasped.

  “Do you mean to tell me that you were standing in the middle … of a road?! Do you have no sense of danger, Maxwell?”

  I rubbed the top of the dog’s head.

  “Yes … but … look at him, Mum. He would have died.”

  Mum came over and looked at the dog. He blinked a few times. It was like he was fluttering his long eyelashes at her.

  “Well, we can’t afford vet bills, so we’d better find out where he comes from and get him back to where he belongs.” She picked up the home phone and went off to the lounge.

  I pulled up a chair and sat beside him. With my head on my hand I gently stroked his velvety-soft ears.

  “She’s not always like this,” I told him. “She’s just a bit stressed at the moment.”

  Bex walked into the kitchen reading one of her boring books and stopped when she saw us.

  “Urgh. What is that?” she said, grimacing.

  “He’s called Monster,” I said as the dog began to lick my hand. “I saved his life.”

  Bex raised her eyebrows and then walked back out again. She never really says a lot with her mouth, my sister, but she can really say a lot with the rest of her face.

  When Dad got in from work he told me we could take the dog to the vet in the back of his van.

  “Go and get a blanket from your room, Maxwell. Something nice and soft. And maybe a pillow as well?” he said.

  I’d not known Dad to be particularly keen on dogs, but because Mum was all stressed about having Monster in the house he suddenly acted like he was some kind of expert, just to annoy her.

  The vet said the dog didn’t have a microchip so, at the moment, there was no way of knowing who his owner was. He thought he was quite old (the dog, not the owner) and he said he was a breed called a beagle and that they had a tendency to put on weight.

  “This chap is a perfect example,” he said, ruffling the dog’s ears. “Had a few too many pies, haven’t you, old boy?”

  The beagle smacked his lips together as if he knew what the word “pies” meant. The vet took a good look at his injured back paw and then got some tweezers and pulled out a lump of glass.

  “This is why he didn’t want to put his foot down. I’ll just clean up the wound and put something over it to keep any infection out.”

  While he did this, the vet and Dad talked about what to do next. The vet said he’d call the local authority who would come and collect the dog. They’d put him in a nearby animal shelter to give the owner a chance to come forward for him.

  “But we could look after him. Couldn’t we?” I said.

  The vet shook his head.

  “That’s not the way it works, I’m afraid. If you want to rehome him then you can register an interest with the shelter. They’ll have to come and visit your home and make sure you’re ready to take on a dog. If he’s not claimed then potentially you’ll be able to keep him.”

  My stomach flipped at the idea. My very own dog!

  The vet said there was no charge so, on our way out, Dad put some money in a charity collection tin that they had at reception.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Maxwell. Even if the owners don’t claim him, we’ll have to get your mum to agree. And you know how awkward she can be sometimes.”

  I didn’t say anything. I hated it when one of my parents did that, trying to get me to be horrible about the other one.

  When we got home I told Mum that we might be able to keep the dog and, surprisingly, Mum was OK about it. I think it was to prove Dad wrong, but at least they both agreed.

  During the week, a woman from the shelter came to inspect our house while I was at school. The woman said that we’d definitely be able to rehome Monster, providing his owner didn’t claim him. Mum told me not to get my hopes up, but I couldn’t help feeling really excited.

  We visited him in the shelter one day. They had put a Reserved sticker on his cage so that if his owner didn’t come forward then he could come to live with us. Mum laughed and said that it was pretty unlikely anyone else would be interested in a smelly old beagle. Monster didn’t seem to mind and he wagged his tail at us from inside his cage.

  After two weeks and no sign of the owner, Monster was ours. I couldn’t believe it! I actually had my own dog! And not any o
ld dog either – a dog that I’d saved! I went to the shelter to collect him with Dad, and when we got home I carried him across the doorway as if he was too important to walk, even though his paw was pretty much healed now.

  Mum had made him a little bed in the corner of the kitchen by the bins, with a dish of water beside it. Dad started fussing, saying that if we let the dog sleep there he’d get a draught from under the door, but Mum said it was the best place because we didn’t want him to overheat. Monster’s head went back and forth, watching my parents as they argued.

  “You’ll learn to ignore them. They’ll stop eventually,” I whispered in his ear as I put him down in his bed. Mum and Dad moved to the lounge. They’d finished arguing about the dog and had moved on to money. After me, this was their favourite subject to row about.

  “If you hadn’t wasted all that money on that skiing trip, maybe you’d have a deposit for a flat. Have you even considered that?” screamed Mum.

  “Fine, Amanda. Well, let’s just add up all those hairdressing appointments you’ve had over the last year and see what that comes to, shall we?”

  I went to the fridge and took out some ham. I took off the sticky note that said Amanda on it, then I sat beside Monster and hand-fed him. Before long, the shouting became just like background noise and I barely even noticed it.

  “Charlie! Oi! Charlie! Wait up!”

  I could see Charlie Geek about fifty metres in front of me as I walked to school. I could recognize his walk anywhere – it was more of a stumble, like he was about to fall over.

  “Charlie!” I said, whacking him on the arm as I caught him up. “Didn’t you hear me? I’ve been yelling at you for ages.” Then I spotted the white headphones in his ears.

  “Maxwell!” he said, pulling out a bud. “You’ve got to listen to this.” He fumbled as he tried to put it in my ear but I took it off him and did it myself.

  We stood there for a moment, Charlie grinning widely as I listened. It sounded like the inner workings of a washing machine.

  “Great. So, what’s this one then? Don’t tell me. Is it … is it the small intestine of a blue whale?”

  Charlie stared at me.

  “Can you get audio of that?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I dunno, Charlie. You’d know more about that than me, mate.”

  Charlie glazed over for a moment as he thought about it, and then he shook himself back.

  “This, my friend,” he said, all dramatically, “is the sound of … the sun.”

  I laughed.

  “What do you mean, it’s the sun?”

  We walked into the school grounds wearing one earphone each.

  “Scientists recorded the sounds produced by the magnetic field in the outer atmosphere of the sun. And this is the sound the sun makes. Isn’t it brilliant?”

  He beamed at me. It just sounded like some random wishy-washy noise to me.

  “How long is it?” I asked.

  Charlie stared down at his phone.

  “I’ve made a loop of it, so it’s about two hours.”

  He pressed play and smiled for a second but then his head suddenly jolted backwards as someone slammed right into him. The headphones pinged out of our ears.

  “Oops, sorry! Didn’t see you there, Charlie Geek.”

  Marcus Grundy walked past us, his teeth gritted in a false smile.

  “That’s all right, Marcus. No problem,” said Charlie, rubbing the back of his neck as Marcus disappeared into the crowd.

  “What did you say that for?!” I said. “He shoved you deliberately!”

  Charlie blinked at me a few times as he put his headphones back in his ears.

  “I don’t think so, Maxwell,” he said, screwing the little buds in tighter. “I WAS OBVIOUSLY IN HIS WAY.”

  He shouted the last bit because he couldn’t hear himself talking over his stupid sun noises. A few people turned and stared and I tried to walk on without him but he grabbed me on the shoulder.

  “ARE YOU GOING TO COME TO SCIENCE CLUB TONIGHT, MAXWELL? LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD?”

  I waved my hand at him, trying to get him to keep his voice down. A girl in Bex’s year, Claudia Bradwell, strutted over.

  “Ah … you going to go to science club with your special friend, are you, Maxwell? You trying to be a nerdy nerd like your boring sister?”

  She strutted off before I got a chance to answer back. Her group of friends fluttered behind her, scrolling on their phones. I couldn’t stand Claudia Bradwell. She’d given my sister a really hard time.

  I looked at Charlie who was, as always, oblivious to anything that was going on around him. He pulled his stupid duck face, which he always did to try and make me laugh. When he saw I wasn’t smiling his face dropped.

  “You are coming, aren’t you? You promised!” Last week he’d persuaded me that science club might actually be interesting because you got to do cool things like blow stuff up, but there was no way I was going now.

  I ignored him and walked off but I could hear him shuffling behind me trying to keep up. We’d been friends since we were small but everyone knew he was a total wally. Charlie Geek isn’t even his real name. His real name is Charlie Kapoor. I made up the name Charlie Geek because he’s so … geeky. Even some of the teachers call him that and, rather than get annoyed, he laughs like it’s some kind of compliment. He’s such an idiot he can’t even tell when people are being mean to him.

  “Right, come on … settle down, 8A. What’s the matter with you lot today?” said my form tutor, Mr Howard, as we all sloped into class. “Come on! Bums on seats. Maxwell Beckett, that means you…”

  Charlie rushed in behind me and dived into the seat next to me in case someone else tried to sit there. Which they wouldn’t. I didn’t look at him.

  “OK … so as you are all aware, tomorrow is the school’s Centenary Ball Extravaganza whatsit…” said Mr Howard. There was a general “whoop” from the class.

  “Yes, yes … I know. The excitement is unbearable,” said Mr Howard, scrunching up his eyes as everyone began to chatter. “Believe me, 8A, when I say, I really … can’t wait. Really…”

  I put up my hand. Even I was excited about this one and usually I’d avoid anything organized by the school.

  “Sir! Sir! Sir!”

  Mr Howard perched on the edge of his desk beside me. I had to sit at the front of the class so that he could keep an eye on me.

  “Yes, Maxwell?”

  “Are you bringing Miss Huxley, sir? As your date?”

  Someone from the back row let out a wolf-whistle and Mr Howard blushed. He’d been dating the Spanish teacher for nearly a year now but I still liked to mention it whenever I could, just to see his face change colour.

  “Yes, Maxwell. Thank you. Miss Huxley will be there. As will all of the teaching staff.”

  I smiled and leaned back in my chair. It was my doing, the whole Howard/Huxley romance. If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t be together. Mr Howard’s face slowly returned to its usual shade and I put my hand up again.

  “Sir! Sir! Sir!”

  Mr Howard sighed.

  “What now, Maxwell?”

  “Is it true, sir…” I paused for dramatic effect. “Is it true that Jed and Baz are filming their TV roadshow, right here in school tomorrow?”

  I winced as every girl and a few boys let out a deafening squeal. Mr Howard glared at me.

  “But … how? How did you know about that? That’s top secret!”

  The screams got even louder when the class realized I hadn’t just made it up.

  I’d actually known about it for a couple of weeks now as I’d seen it on our head teacher’s emails. I’d been sent to see Mrs Lloyd for being rude to my French teacher and was told to wait in her office while she dealt with something going on in reception. While I was waiting I took a quick peek at her computer screen which she’d accidentally left unlocked. One of her emails was open and the subject title was: Confirmation of Filming: The Jed and Baz TV
Roadshow. I read as much of the email as I could. My tummy flipped over. Jed and Baz’s Roadshow was coming to our school on the night of the Centenary Ball! They were going to be filming an entire show in our hall! I couldn’t believe it. Jed and Baz were MASSIVE. Their roadshow was the most popular show on TV at the moment, mainly because they filmed in all sorts of weird places, like in someone’s living room or on a beach or at an amusement park. And it was always a secret as to where they were going to turn up next. They were soooo funny and they had live music and amazing competitions where you could win holidays and cars and stuff. And they were coming to our school!! I sat back in my seat just before Mrs Lloyd came walking in, and tried not to grin too much while she was giving me a lecture. I left the office that day and managed to keep the news to myself until right about now. The reaction from my form was everything I’d hoped for: hysteria.

  Mr Howard walked around the class, waving his arms up and down and saying, “SSHHHHHH!” with such force he left a spray of spit as he went.

  “OK … OK, 8A. Let’s have a bit of calm, shall we? Yes … so you all knew there was something special planned for tomorrow evening, and now it seems that surprise has been totally ruined. Hasn’t it, Maxwell?”

  I shrugged. Everyone was too excited to be bothered.

  “I don’t know how you came across this information which was, until now, highly classified, but I suggest you stop sharing things. OK? You’ve had twenty-nine negative points this month already and multiple detentions. And as I understand it, if you get one more negative then you’ll be excluded from the ball – is that right?”

  I heard Charlie gasp beside me as I nodded.

  “Right. So, keep your head down and stay out of trouble. Do you think you can manage that?”

  Mr Howard walked away without waiting for an answer.

  He was right. My parents had received a letter stating that if I continued to misbehave then I would be given a thirtieth negative point and I wouldn’t be allowed to attend the ball tomorrow night.