Sub-Heroes: Boombox

about.

School Days, in a School’n daze,

Chill’n and Ill’n at what the teacher says.

Hope’n, that the homework, will go a ways,

Tell’n my old’s that it’s not a phase.

Edu-my-vakation by DJ Dee Dub

Released 2013

Agreat many years earlier in happier days with fresher eyes and innocent heart, when having buddies and an Ultra Hero pencil case was cool, my only fear was being late for the next History class.

School… There is not much I enjoy about school, and History is right up there with Maths and Mondays.

Boring long winded explanations of events with pointless statistics and dates have to be memorised to the day.

The Industrial Revolution, Civil War, World War One, World War Two, including the continental isolation that followed. How this isolation brought us to be the technological leaders of the free world with fax machines, small cabinet size computers and even smaller phones, no bigger than a house brick. It’s the mid two thousands’s and we are living in a technological age of wonder, there is also a brand new device called a Bio-watch that some of the richer kids at school wear, if I keep harping on about it, my parents might buy one for my birthday. Anyway, if there is a way to make historical events interesting, my teacher did not know it.

The second siren rings out and I still have a few yards to go to the classroom. Damn that second siren, it’s all the excuse Mrs Morse needs to single me out for being late.

‘Mrs Morse’ however, is not her real name. It’s really Mrs Dash.

When one of her students found out that her first name was Dorothy or Dot, then it didn’t take long to put ‘Dot’ and ‘Dash’ together to come up with the Morse Code reference.

I try to walk into the fully seated classroom as casually as I can, my empty chair standing out in the crowded room. Thankfully Mrs Morse is scratching up some notes on the blackboard and her back is turned, with any luck I can make it to my seat unnoticed and…

Young Master Hammond, I’m glad that you are able to grace us with your presence on this fine and otherwise delay free day, don’t bother sitting down. Mrs Morse’s back is still turned to me.

There’s no escape now, I put the white flag up and try to appeal to her sense of mercy. I’m sorry Mrs Mor… Dash, I was on my way here but Mr Stokes told me off for running in the quadrangle, he held me up. I already know that this excuse is not going to fly.

And whose fault is that? Mrs Dash speaks between chalk scratches while the rest of the class look at me with wide eyes, all thankful that they are not in my shoes and enjoying the entertainment of my ridicule.

This is the question I was looking for, one that lets me fain guilt in the hope that my perceived humiliation will be enough for Mrs Dash and she will let me sit down. It’s, mine I suppose.

Yes, yes it is Master Hammond, now as penance you may stand at the door and let me know when you see our guests arriving. Mrs Dash turns to me with a wry smile.

Guests? I ask both for myself as well as the rest of the class.

Yes, you will know him when you see him. Mrs Dash now turns her attention to the rest of the class.

Now students, what can you tell me about this word on the board?

I crane my head around from the classroom door to see the board, and the large word written upon it, under todays date is ‘Ultra’. Hands raise quickly like a fast germinating crop, as it’s a word that we all know well.

Lesa, what does it mean to you? Mrs Dash points at my pigtailed classmate with her chalk dusted hand.

It’s a word that’s used to describe someone who is physically, like, above normal, Lesa chirps.

Partially correct, says Mrs Dash. But it’s more than simple physicality isn’t it. Corbin, what do you have to say?

I’m sure that Corbin would have had a good answer ready if he wasn’t pulling faces at me. Corbin is skinny for his age with unkept hair the colour of dirty straw. His school shirt is always untucked and ignoring his face pulling, we have been friends since the first term.

Despite my current isolation from the class I feel embarrassed for him as he’s taken by surprise by Mrs Dashs question.

It’s when people can fly and fight and help others?

Partially correct again, but his time Mrs Dash is cut off mid-sentence by a voice and shadow that had quietly walked up behind me.

Actually the young lad is quite correct, in a manner of speaking.

I spin around to see a large man towering over me, it only takes a few seconds for me to recognise him and a few more to believe that he is actually here.

Oh! exclaims Mrs Dash, Boys and Girls, I would like to introduce, The Admiral.

How are you doing son? asks The Admiral as he shakes my hand like a machine and walks past me into the classroom.

I’m-never-washing-that-hand-again!

There are two other men in dark suits and glasses who position themselves outside of the classroom door but it’s The Admiral who has our full attention. Unlike the men outside, he is wearing a grey business suit which makes him look older than how he appears on TV.

His grey hair is combed straight back that same way it always has been from the earliest news reels when it was much darker of course. But unlike those news reels and later appearances on TV, he is not wearing his white and gold suit. I suppose that a business suit makes sense now, given that he had been retired for quite a while.

I’m fine Sir, Mr Admiral. I stutter.

The Admiral strides to the front and centre of the classroom, beaming his smile back at the students like a lighthouse signalling to ships.

Mrs Dash explains, We all know that the Ultra Division tryout will be here in a fortnight, so The Admiral has agreed to visit some of our classes beforehand to let us all know what is about to happen.

I’m stunned, standing at the door looking at the surreal image of a full blown Ultra Hero here, in my otherwise completely boring History class.

Mr Oscar Hammond, you may sit down now. Mrs Dash’s command gives me a moment to pick my jaw up off the floor and clumsily stumble to my seat, dodging chairs and the school bags tucked roughly under them. I don’t want to take my eyes off The Admiral, not even for a second in case I miss something. I take my seat next to Corbin, who has long since stopped pulling faces and is as transfixed as I am.

This is the first year of high school for both Corbin and me. Since we both came to Monolith City from different lower schools, it made sense that we had quickly become friends amongst this sea of strangers.

Well, now, booms The Admiral in an authoritative voice that would send shivers down the spines of criminals, Can anyone here fly?

We all look around the room curious and hopeful that someone else would put their hand up but no one does.

Okay, does anyone here have Ultra Strength?

Aside from a few giggles, no one responds.

Excellent, because if anyone had said yes… The Admiral pauses for effect and then continues in a slightly deeper tone, … I would know that you were lying. The Admiral claps his hands together, ensuring that everyone is awake, including in the classes around us. It’s like this junior citizens, Ultra Powers start out quite small, hardly noticeable but they can be developed over time. No one simply wakes up one morning, floating above their house with a car in each arm.

There are a few more giggles from the class at the absurd mental image. The Admiral plays this up by closing his eyes and then pretending to wake up with his arms outstretched. He then turns his head side to side at the invisible cars with a look of comic amazement.

Whoa! says The Admiral, Who parked these here! to the laughter of the class.

I suppose we are not used to a Hero being, well, funny.

Now let me explain what we will be doing and why we do it. The Admiral then takes a spare chair from the front of the class and casually sits down, his tall frame looks awkward in the smaller seat but it does not bother him. He looks up at the ceiling as if he was contemplating where to begin his next sentence. Then he looks back out to the class but his face has changed from his initial friendly casual look to something more serious.

"A few years back we had a new recruit, a strong kid, lets call him Toby. He and I had a little rivalry going on where he would try to break my records during Ultra-Training. You see, we use special training techniques to measure what new Heroes can and can’t do.

He excelled in strength and speed but we were only learning the limits of his Ultra Powers. He was so proud and confident, we all thought he could be my equal one day."

The Admiral pauses as we all remain silent, spellbound and waiting on his every word. Even the starry eyed Mrs Dash doesn’t blink. But, Toby must not have known his limits.

The Admiral looks down at the ground and forces a fake smile. Toby was a good kid and we were good chums, the day he died will forever be scarred in my memory.

Mrs Dash forgets where she is for a moment and in a rarely seen act of genuine emotion she asks aloud, What happened to him?

The Admiral looks up and continues. "One day, as we were out training in the field we heard the screeching of brakes and the dull thud of a nearby car accident. We both ran towards the sound and found that two cars had hit each other head-on and were wedged together across a train track. There was only the two of us, so we both instinctively ran to different cars and between us we were able to force their crumpled doors open. I managed to save an older lady who was driving one of the cars and Toby saved a young man and his infant son from the other.

But the man’s wife was jammed in the car with her legs pinned between her seat and the cars dashboard. Now Toby knew that we didn’t have much time and that a train could arrive at any minute. He was fast and strong, but does anyone know what Toby did not have?"

The Admiral pauses waiting for one of us to respond, no one dares.

"What he did not have, was any training for this situation. He did not have a clue as to how to safely remove this poor woman from her car… and then we saw the train.

Toby knew that he was special and he was brave, a bravery I have lived my life since that day trying to emulate.

But without the right training he did the only thing he thought he could do, he stood in front of the train. His mind was made up and he was going to put his Ultra Powers to the ultimate test.

The engineer must have seen the wrecked car and tried to slow down but there was not enough track left for him to do so. The train… ploughed into Toby, and Toby ploughed into the train.

Bracing himself against the sleepers he held his ground and the engine compressed against his unmeasured strength, but he could not hold it for long.

His feet gave way and the carriages then ran straight over the top of him and into the poor lady’s car."

The Admiral shakes his head slightly and continues. Now I won’t go into the details, but it turned out that Toby’s extraordinary strength was not matched by his resistance to the impact, both he and the lady did not survive.

The Admiral straightens himself up in the chair, All Ultra Heroes need to know their limits. Understanding what we cannot do is often the most critical thing to know. This is why, in two weeks’ time some other Ultra Heroes will be back here at Monolith City High to watch over the Ultra Tryouts, who knows, maybe there’s someone in this room who will be the next Admiral.

The Admiral smiles genuinely at us and we all applaud. There’s the briefest moment when I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to be Ultra Powered, the strength, the training and the fame, oh the fame.

So how do we test you, does anybody know? asks The Admiral.

Corbin puts up his hand, Sir, it’s a combination of strength, endurance and um… thinking tests right?

Mental Capacity test, that’s right, corrects The Admiral, We know what the average strengths should be for any age group so we test folks over a few days to pick out some likely candidates, then we go on to the Tryouts which are a public event where you can all cheer on your favourites. Has anyone here been to one of these yet?

Not surprisingly, we all keep our hands down as it’s our first year in high school, however Mrs Dash raises hers with a smile, I’ve been to most of them.

Good for you! booms The Admiral. They are a glorious event and it’s not too uncommon for there to be a few surprises amongst the competitors, sometimes it’s even a surprise to themselves.

We had a senior, young Miss… Mrs Dash puts her hand to her head for a moment as if she had a sudden pain, Anyway, a senior was selected two years ago wasn’t she? asks Mrs Dash, with her smile returning.

I have never seen her sustain a smile for this long, I’m surprised that her skin has not cracked yet.

Yes, a young lady was selected from this school and she is going quite well at the Academy, The Admiral says cautiously. She is a good example of what we will be looking for. Initially this young Miss ranked quite low in her strength tests, noticeably low given her average muscle mass. So we thought we would put her under some pressure in the Tryouts. She was running last in the hurdles when the young lass clipped the top of one, but rather than falling, her foot floated straight through it. She was so determined to finish the race that she didn’t notice. We had to play back the film of her race to her before she believed us.

Yes, says Mrs Dash cautiously, What was her name again?

We cannot disclose any specifics now Mrs Dash, we don’t need to remember her real name. But she is a good example of what we are looking for.

The Admiral stands up from his chair and stretches his back. Now before I go, does anyone here believe that they might be successful in the Tryouts?

Corbin and a student called Billy put up their hands. They both look at each other for a moment and then Billy snorts a short laugh, Being a dork aint an Ultra Power.

Normally a large part of the class would join him, but with The Admiral in the room, no one is that brave.

You might be surprised how often intelligence is overlooked as a genuine Power. We will be testing for that too, The Admiral looks squarely at both of them.

I’m not sure which person his comment was aimed at, I hope it was a dig at Billy. Corbin may be a good friend, but he can be a bit of a dork.

Now before I leave you, does anyone have any questions?

Hands shoot up like rocket ships and The Admiral points at Lesa. Yes, young lady?

How much can you lift? Lesa excitedly asks.

I was able to tip over a German Tank in my younger days and as the years have gone by… I’ve only become stronger. He winks back.

How does it feel to have Powers? A student called Mark asks from the back row.

No different to how I felt before. That’s why these Tryouts are important, you may not know when they develop and we would hate for any new Ultra Hero to accidentally harm anybody or themselves.

A tall girl called Shannon sitting next to the classroom windows asks, How about your family, do your parents have Ultra Powers?

"Good question and I have to answer this carefully. One of the first rules of being an Ultra Hero is that we must not talk about ourselves too much. We cannot share information about our family and friends and under no circumstances can we ever tell anyone our real names.

So to answer your question as best as I can, our scientists believe that there may be a genetic link and Powers have manifested amongst family members. The funny thing is these Powers are not always the same or even remotely similar.

In my case, I will share this. My younger sister developed Powers, but they are very different to mine. She also works for the Ultra Division but in more of a management role rather than fighting crime directly."

The Admiral looks back at one of the men guarding the classroom door and nods. I have to go now children, thank you for your time.

After shaking a few hands and signing autographs, including one for me, The Admiral leaves our class with one last message.

Okay kids now be strong, be safe, be the Hero and don’t forget your Go-Juice.

I hear him say quietly to one of his guards that Mrs Morse needs to be praised, or something like that and then he is gone.

I will never forget this day, the day I met the greatest Ultra Hero and the fastest History class in, well, all of history.

[4 Years and 3 months until Detonation.]

No matter how tough it is, to stand alone,

Even if… you are a long way from home.

You will always have the power in your hand,

When you stop… and choose to take a stand.

The Journey by Hank ‘Tumbleweed’ Morgan

Released 1975

The final siren rings out and I step into the hallway before its echo fades. There’s talk and chatter all around me as my fellow students make their way to the nearest possible school exit.

I wait at a busy corridor for my friend Corbin as the stream of students flow past me. Our tradition is to catch up here and loiter until the rush is over, then we can casually make our way home.

While I wait I look through my school bag for my lunchtime box of Go-Juice in the vain hope that there’s a little still left in the box.

Hey, Oscar! shouts Corbin. He approaches while I’m still rummaging. Ready to go?

Yup, I say as I sling my school bag over my shoulder and relishing the last few drops of Go-Juice. I might race you on the way home, you know, a little practice before the Tryouts.

Okay then, smiles Corbin, Last one to the store can be the sidekick.

We stare at each other for a second and then we both sprint to the bike racks.

I fumble as I unlock my stubborn bike combination lock. Then leaping onto the seat, I churn through the loose sand in first gear. As my rear wheel finds the traction of the pavement, I take off.

Believing that I have left Corbin behind, I look up only to see him peddling like a madman only a yard or two in front of my bike.

Not to be beaten, I lean forward to try and catch up.

My legs are straining at the pedals as my old bike reluctantly clicks into its highest gear.

The rough pavement yields some relief as we reach the peak of a small hill and start riding downwards with the local store in sight.

With the descent helping I catch up with Corbin and we are neck to neck, I can’t wipe the grin from my face as my handlebar passes Corbin’s rusty side mirror.

Corbin however, has a more panicked look on his face and I notice that he is switching focus from the road ahead to his mirror. I twist my head to see what the problem is and I spot someone else on a bike and he’s quickly closing in on us.

Is that Billy? I breathlessly ask.

Corbin only nods as he concentrates on reaching the relative safety of the nearby shops.

It’s as if each year of schooling brings on one or two ‘Billy’s’. These guys are always bigger or naturally meaner to the other students and they are not afraid to throw their weight around. Even the teachers know better than to push Billy too far. I can remember when he was expelled in the first week of school for throwing a chair at the English teacher, we didn’t see Billy for two weeks and the teacher was never seen again.

The last thing anyone would want, is to find themselves on Billy’s bad side but Corbin somehow has.

It was not because of any one event, it’s simply because Billy sees a weak target and then doesn’t let it go.

I try to slow down a little and put myself between Corbin’s and Billy’s bikes.

Move it you spoon! yells Billy as he pulls alongside me, forcing my bike towards the traffic side of the sidewalk.

Corbin has opened up the gap between us but it won’t take long for Billy to catch up with him, if he can manoeuvre past me.

I swerve slightly towards Billy’s bike alongside me.

What! yells Billy, You did not do that!

Billy then returns the favour.

At first he swerves a little away from me but I can guess that he is about to try and bump me so I try to hit my brakes. As expected, Billy sharply turns towards my bike. I thought that he was only trying to scare me, so I don’t move aside, but he doesn’t yield and our bikes collide. Rather than knocking my bike off the path, my pedal twists into the spokes of his rear wheel.

While both bikes are sliding to an awkward stop, Billy instinctively tries to wrench his bike away from mine by sharply pulling away. As his bike becomes unhooked from mine, Billy loses control. His bike skids off the sidewalk while still travelling at some speed and then, its front wheel digs into a patch of soft sand.

My brakes kick in, I look back in time to see Billy flying over his suddenly stationary bikes handle bars where he then lands painfully in a small hedge by the path.

Is he okay? I hear Corbin ask.

I’m not sure, he’s not moving. I back my bike up to the hedge.

Arrgh!, Billy releases a frustrated yell. You little dweebs are going to get it now. Billy stumbles back to his feet and his eyes don’t leave mine.

Are you okay? I ask cautiously as I notice that he is cradling his left arm.

You… You little dweebs have busted my arm! he grimaces. Billy tries to raise his injured arm but he winces and then cries out in pain. Bahh, you wait till I get my hands on you!

I notice that Corbin has stopped but he looks like he is ready to ride away at any moment. I figure that he has a good point, if I have broken Billy’s arm I’m not about to wait around for him to do the same to me. I break my gaze from Billy and begin to ride away as Corbin follows.

"Oh yeah, that’s right, run away you little dweebs.

I could beat you both up with one arm, imagine what I will do to your faces when it’s healed. Do you hear me dweebs, losers, when I find you, you won’t have such a pretty face or a pretty voice Oscarrr!"

Billy’s ranting lingers longer than I expected as Corbin and I ride past the shops and head home. Normally we would say goodbye to each other as we take our separate roads home, but today we simply nodded in quiet understanding that we were in serious trouble.

It feels like an unusually long ride but I finally arrive home. Flinging my bike into the back of the garage I can’t remove Billy’s angry face from my mind as I walk inside. With Billy’s threats still ringing in my ears, my Mum greets me.

Oscar dear, can you help with putting the groceries away for me.

I’m too preoccupied with my own thoughts to register my mums request.

Oscar, if you don’t do what you are told the Obsidiman will get you!

Mums threat would only work on a three year old, but it does gain my attention. What… Nice try Mum, I’m not a kid anymore, but I still start unpacking as I’m told.

That’s who I am, a tallish, blond haired, domestic shelf stacker, Hero hand shaker, still a little scared of the Obsidiman and soon to be Billy’s punching bag.

As I pull cans of vegetables, frozen pizza boxes and a new supply of Go-Juice cartons with little straws from the paper shopping bags I can hear the TV news playing in the background.

‘Coming up later in tonight’s bulletin, the continuing civil war in Russia and how it’s spurring a new wave of refugees streaming into Alaska...’

So dear, anything interesting happen at school? asks Mum.

The issues with Billy fade for a moment Well, I shook The Admirals’ hand, I say with a smile.

Mum stops rearranging the cupboard for a moment, You mean an admiral, not The Admiral, right?

No Mum, it was The Admiral. He came to the school to talk about the Ultra Tryouts.

Wow, now that really is something. You had better tell your Dad, he will want to know all about it.

I take the offer as all the excuse I need to stop sorting out the shopping and I run to the lounge room where my Dad is nestled in his favourite chair watching the news on our new large 48’ screen.

Oh, Hi Oscar, was it a good day at school? Dad asks.

I met The Admiral Dad, the real guy and he shook my hand! I say excitedly.

No way! replies Dad, Did you ask him for an autograph?

I did, but I left it at school. I will have to remind myself to grab it from my locker. Yeah, but I will show you tomorrow, I say in frustration.

Dad says, That’s okay, I will find a frame for you to use.

The page I asked The Admiral to sign is a little dog eared and has some History notes scribbled on it… but yes, it’s still worth framing. We turn our attention to the TV as images of burning cities fill the screen. A man’s voice then speaks over the footage.

‘With no end in sight, the violence continues in the once powerful Soviet Union for the third straight month.

We are yet to learn the exact cause of the sudden uprising, however as these smuggled images suggest the result has been devastating.

To date, Government officials and the Ultra Division have all said that this is a local matter for the Soviet people, and no intervention is planned.’

The TV is interrupted by our ringing phone. Shortly after I hear Mum yell from the other room, Oscar, it’s for you dear, it’s Corbin.

I expected this call, now Corbin and I are going to have to plan how to lay low and keep out of Billy’s way for the next few days or weeks… or perhaps years.

[4 Years and 3 months until Detonation.]

A runaway train, escaping the pain.

I’m riding it away, to start a brand new day.

Today yeah!

Today yeah!

Take a ride with me baby, so we can be free.

Rails by Calvin Kobe

Released 1984

Corbin and I had this great fantastic plan, to hide. We were going to stay outside of the school until the first siren and then run straight to class as fast as we could. It worked like a charm! Partly because it was executed with military like precision but mostly because Billy did not turn up.

It turns out we had been hovering outside of the school gates, drinking Go-Juice and watching everyone that passed closely for no good reason.

I was stuck between two confusing maths formulas. You know when you decide to skip over a difficult question, only to find that the next one is harder? Well thats where I was when I overheard from a girl called Wendy who was sitting two desks away that Billy did not turn up in her earlier class. The whispering Wendy suggested to her friend that he was ditching school again.

I am relieved and a little concerned over Billy’s condition, is he that badly injured to need a day off? At least Corbin and I now have a reprieve.

The remainder of my Maths class continued much as I expected… painfully. Eventually, mercifully, the siren rang out giving Corbin and I an opportunity to quickly catch up in the corridor between classes.

Have you seen any sign of him? whispers Corbin.

Good news, I say excitedly, He’s not here! So we are off the hook. We smile at each other and run to our next class which we both share. First up is English and then after lunch my favourite, Drama.

I really enjoy my Drama class for two reasons; firstly because I’m good at it and secondly because it’s the only class I share with Kellie. The thought of my later Drama class with Kellie and the relief of realising that Billy was not here helps my English class fly by.

Before I know it, the lunch siren echoes around the hallways allowing Corbin and I go to our usual lunch spot under a shady old olive tree by the edge of the oval.

Unwrapping my lunchtime sandwich I lean back against the old tree trunk, take in the cool springtime air and the bright blue cloudless sky.

So, am I going to have to put up with your screeching after lunch again? jokes Corbin.

He is referring to my role in the upcoming Drama production. Despite being early in the year, the final term show is well into rehearsals. My role is quite important if I dare say so, I am the lead and I have to sing.

Okay, I don’t ‘Have’ to sing, I enjoy any excuse to perform in front of people but I’m not going to admit that, not even to Corbin.

My screeching? You keep banging your drums and showing off your arms to the girls, I laugh.

Like you can talk, half the time you’re ogling at Kellie. I’m surprised that Ms Johnston doesn’t make the whole song a duet, Corbin jokes.

I sheepishly look down because Corbin is right. I’ve had a crush on Kellie from the day I started. I think she likes me, we hang out together now and again but we have not dared to discuss being boyfriend and girlfriend. Or more to the point, I have not had the guts to ask.

Another voice speaks, not one of ours. So… predictable.

Corbin and I firstly look at each other, instantly recognising the owner of the voice from behind us. We both look around and see our nightmare… Billy standing behind us, he must have snuck around the large old tree.

Billy’s dark eyes look as if he has not slept and he’s not wearing the school uniform, only jeans and a tight black t-shirt, with one arm bound in a fresh white sling.

I knew I would find you little love birds here… now don’t move, don’t shout, I have a little surprise for you. Billy smiles disturbingly.

Without even a second thought, Corbin and I stumble forward and run, leaving our lunches behind us.

Hey! Come back you cowards! Billy yells.

I know our only choice is to run, Billy is strong and fast, we will need all the extra distance we can manage.

This is why I was so surprised to see Corbin look back and then slow down. I also turn around, to see Billy not running but limping towards us. The fall from his bike must have done more damage than I thought.

In an uncommon act of bravado, Corbin yells back at the injured bully. Come on then Billy, catch up! Or is all of that weight dragging you down?

What? I could not believe my ears, it’s the first time I’ve heard Corbin say anything like that to Billy. In fact, it’s the first time any student has.

I’m caught up in the moment so I add, Its okay Corbin, he’s waiting for his gravitational pull to drag us back to him.

You punks, you little dweebs. I am going get you, mess you up! pants Billy, while limping.

There are other students around the oval and their attention is attracted by our yelling. Cautiously they wander over to us as one of the older girls shout, Hey look at Billy’s busted arm.

Within moments we are surrounded by students of all ages, all pointing and taunting Billy without fear.

I suppose that these first few months of high school bullying and probably years more at whatever school he came from, had all caught up with him and now there was blood in the water.

I smile to myself as Billy backs away from us with his look turning from anger to confusion, so I add my own contribution to the chorus of jeers.

Oh poor Silly Billy! I yell out.

This is instantly picked up by the growing mob.

Silly Billy, Silly Billy the crowd chants in unison. Billy looks distressed, this must be the first time anyone had seen him like this.

Shut up, shut up all of you! I know, know wh, who you all are. I, I... Billy’s voice begins to break. He stumbles, turns around and we hear him whimper to himself as he painfully pushes through the crowd and limps away towards the schools outer fence.

The end of lunch siren rings out, but Corbin and I stay on the oval for a few extra moments, basking in our newfound glory. The other students ask us what had happened to Billy. Corbin and I smile at each other and explain how we played our parts in Billy’s injury. For these brief moments we are looked upon as schoolyard Heros.

We’re late for class, Corbin eventually comments.

For Corbin to say that, we must be really late so we quickly rush towards our final class of the day, Drama.

As we burst into the classroom Ms Johnston looks away from the drum kit she is setting up, Oscar Hammond! Just because you are the lead, it does not give you any special privileges.

Ms Johnston is an older teacher, my guess is that she is in her forties. She has long brown hair and always seem to dress in similar clothes that are all different shades of ‘tan’.

While teaching she never stops, always moving about the classroom, shifting equipment, setting up stages, instruments and all the while talking and teaching. I feel exhausted watching her even if I’m standing still.

Sorry, I pant, But I had some… trouble at lunch.

Ms Johnston shakes her head as she moves onto extending a microphone stand. Take your places in the chorus and let’s begin…

I take my place in the chorus while Corbin quickly sits himself down at the drum kit, clashing the cymbals as he does so.

Ms Johnston counts down. "4, 3, 2, 1… why want more, when all you need is an open door…" she starts to sing and we all follow.

Like I said, I love singing.

It distances me from whatever troubles I feel, for those moments I am lost in a world of my own. I look around and spot Kellie singing backup with a faint grin. Her hair is tied back showing the pink flower pattern on her thin glasses. I don’t know if she means to do it, but she always hides her smile on account of her braces and her head is tilted downward towards the sheet music. Then she peeks upwards with only her eyes looking cheeky as her smile widens. My arriving late must have amused her or Ms Johnston telling me off… or both.

This is my place, my house, I sing my heart out and I suppose that this is why I am the last one to stop singing when there is a sudden knock at the door.

Ms Johnston opens the frosted glass classroom door and we see two policemen, the stony expression on their faces puts a sudden stop to my happy vibe. They have a murmured conversation with Ms Johnston and then all three look at me.

Oscar Hammond, one of the policemen bark, We would like a word as well as with Corbin Burns.

I glance quickly back at Kellie and she shoots me a ‘What have you done now’ look as we are escorted out of class. Corbin looks worried and I can tell he is thinking the same thing as I am, since when did picking on a bully become a criminal offence.

We are marched into the Principal’s office. As this is my first year of high school, I can’t remember his name. I’m sure it’s Peterson or Peters or something.

With the police blocking the door after we enter the office and the Principal sitting at his undersized desk, there is nowhere for us to run.

There’s no need to worry, we are only trying to find Billy Wilson and we have been told that you two boys were involved in an altercation with him during lunch. Mr Peter-something said.

‘Altercation?’ That word makes our lunchtime shouting match sound so real, so official. Corbin kicks off with the worlds most predictable line and the one I was also going to use, He started it, his voice is already breaking.

I decide to expand with my own explanation. We were trying to go home last night when...

One of the dark uniformed policemen then cut me off It’s okay son, we only need to know if he might still be on the school grounds.

Instinctively I ask rather than answer, Why?

The three men quickly exchange glances and the Principal responds, Billy’s father has called us and he is concerned because he was meant to stay at home today but apparently he has wandered off… and that’s all.

One of the policemen add, That’s right as Principal Peterson said, we are simply trying to find Billy and see him home.

‘Principal Peterson’, I knew it.

Corbin then speaks up, Well he’s gone, I mean he was here but he left before the end of lunch siren.

Did you know what direction he headed off in? the Policeman asked.

He left the oval, towards Bennett Street. I say.

The two policemen share a silent nod, the talkative one looks back at me, Thanks for that boys, you can return to your class now.

Yes, commands Principal Peterson. Off you go now.

We stand and leave the office. Walking slowly back to the Drama class Corbin asks, What was all that about?

I’m not sure, I say, I’m glad that the cops were not after us.

It’s been a weird few days and I am happy to be going back into my normal Drama class.

We walk in and the other students instantly surround us asking questions but Ms Johnston quickly shushes them down. We have wasted enough time today, let’s at least try to have one full rehearsal of the opening number before home time.

Obediently we all take our positions and Ms Johnston counts down again. 4 and 3 and 2 and…

Before she can finish, there is a loud thumping at the class door.

Oh, blessed, what is it now, she says as she swings the door open.

For a moment there is silence as we see a familiar but now shaking figure at the door.

Billy? asks Ms Johnston.

Close the door! yells Corbin, but Billy forces his way past Ms Johnston and slams the door shut behind him causing the frosted glass rattle.

Corbin, Oscar, I knew I would find you here in the loser class, Billy angrily grunts.

Billy Wilson, you can remove yourself from my classroom right now! commands Ms Johnston in the most authoritative voice I have ever heard her use.

Nah, I don’t think so, says Billy as he reaches into his sling with his good arm.

I reckon that I’ll be doing the removing. Billy smiles strangely as he pulls out a heavy, dark grey pistol from his sling.

Whoa Billo, what are you doing? I shout.

I’m not sure where ‘Billo’ came from, I suppose I am trying to find my way onto whatever good side he has left.

It doesn’t work.

Billy quickly turns to me and the barrel of the gun follows. Billy Wilson’s eyes are wide open with beads of sickly sweat dripping from his forehead.

S’S’SIT DOWN! he stammers. My first thought was that he is about to explode. He is beyond angry, he’s jumpy, twitchy and swings the gun between various people in the class.

I SAID SIT DOWN! he screams again, all the time with a smile that’s way out of place.

Oscar, quickly sit, Ms Johnston whispers but not quickly enough as Billy pulls the trigger and fires a shot mid swing into the crowded classroom. We all drop to the floor but we hear a yelp and then a whimper from one of the girls.

Far out, someone’s hit. I hope it isn’t...

Kellie! yells Ms Johnston, Lie still, try not to move.

I look across the room, her normally pretty eyes are rolling back behind her glasses. Her mouth is locked in a grimace showing the braces that she normally tries to hide. Incensed with seeing Kellie lying on the floor, one hand clutching a wound in her shoulder, I look up to Billy and scream, Why are you doing this?

I… SAID… SIT! he shrieks and fires the gun towards me. A sickly sensation in my gut causes me to instinctively place my hands to my stomach. I feel a burning sensation then lightheadedly crumple to the floor.

I can’t believe that this is happening. I look up at Billy’s wide eyes and scream with all the strength I can muster.

WHYYYYYYYY!

The word comes out louder than I expect, it resonates from deep inside my chest.

Billy stumbles back for some reason and then he says, No one puh-puh-puts me down, not like that. Not my old man, Nuh-nuh-not you!

I have an odd empty feeling in my gut and my head becomes fuzzier. Distantly, I hear Corbin speak. It’s called revenge you fracken idiot.

Billy turns and he stomps towards the drum kit that Corbin is lying down next to. Kicking the kit aside Billy yells above the crashing of symbols. What did I tell you? What was my promise! I am gonna mess up your face.

I cannot move and through narrowing tunnel vision I can see Billy train his gun straight at Corbin’s head.

In a vain hope to distract him, I scream from someplace deep inside