Free A Thousand Water Bombs by T. M. Alexander Page A

I said. It’s the day we do D.T. ‘All I need is a layer of glaze to make it shiny and my Spitfire will be finished. I can’t wait.’
    ‘Good for you,’ said Fifty. His fire engine looked more like a vandalised post box. ‘I can’t wait to burn mine.’
    ‘You can burn mine too,’ said Copper Pie. His chip van mysteriously got crushed between lessons. (We suspected Jamie, working on Callum’s orders.) Bee finished hers ages ago.
She chose a boat for her vehicle, which was a good idea because wheels are difficult.
    We stopped halfway down the alley to chat to Sass who’s this really cool girl at the senior school. We used to be scared of her but ever since we gave her and her mates some cupcakes, made
by the one and only Bee the Baker , she’s been a mate.
    ‘Hey Tribers, how goes it?’
    ‘Good,’ said Jonno.
    ‘Were you at the fair?’ said Bee. ‘I thought I saw you.’
    ‘Yeah, Mum made me take my brother. He spent the whole time trying to score against that goalie. I saw you guys with a table full of —’
    ‘Rubbish,’ said Fifty.
    ‘I’d have come over but . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, it looked like there was trouble brewing.’
    ‘Trouble’s one word for it,’ said Jonno. ‘War would be the other.’
    Sass laughed. I think Jonno really likes her – if you get what I mean.
    ‘We gave up and sold the stall in the end,’ said Bee.
    Fifty finished off the story. ‘This car-booter with wads of cash took the lot off us for thirty-five quid.’
    ‘You lot always manage to swing things your way. How d’ya do it?’
    We grinned at each other.
    ‘OK. I get it,’ she said. ‘It’s the Tribe thing.’
    She walked with us to the other end of the alley where we almost ran straight into . . . Bee’s mum.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ said Bee.
    I’d never seen her mum anywhere near school before. As far as I can make out she’s either at work, or cooking, or shopping.
    ‘They’ve gone.’ Bee’s mum started sniffing.
    ‘Who’ve gone, Mum?’
    ‘The boys.’ Proper crying started. Time for a quick exit. I grabbed Fifty’s arm. Copper Pie didn’t need grabbing, he’d already sloped off round the corner.
Sass had disappeared too.
    ‘See you tomorrow, Bee,’ I shouted. ‘Come on, Jonno.’
    Jonno didn’t come. Jonno has an annoying habit of not coming! We waited out of sight for a few minutes.
    ‘What’s Jonno up to?’ said Fifty.
    ‘No idea,’ said C.P.
    ‘Surely he’s not going to walk home with Bee’s wailing mum?’ Fifty made a surely-not face.
    ‘I hate it when my mum cries,’ I said.
    ‘Same,’ said Fifty.
    ‘My mum never cries,’ said Copper Pie. ‘I think she was born without the right bits.’
    ‘Tear ducts,’ I said.
    ‘That’ll be it,’ said Copper Pie. ‘No tear ducts.’
    ‘I reckon my mum got your mum’s,’ said Fifty. ‘She cries at everything. If you said: imagine there was a little puppy and it trod on a drawing pin, that would be it
– she’d be off, box of tissues, red eyes.’
    ‘But that is quite sad,’ I said, and wished I hadn’t. Copper Pie called me girly.
    Thankfully Jonno reappeared.
    ‘Why did you all disappear? Bee’s our friend.’
    ‘But Bee’s mum isn’t,’ said Fifty. Jonno made a face so Fifty quickly added, ‘But we like her of course. And she makes a good lasagne.’
    TRIBERS’ SAD THINGS (SOME OF THEM AREN’T SAD THOUGH)
    Winters with no snow
    Batteries running out when you’re playing some thing
    Less than 3500 Black Rhinos left on the planet (Bee’s very sad about that)
    No pudding
    No loo roll and no one to get you any
    Fire alarms with no fire (only Fifty thinks that’s sad)
    Waking up too early on Christmas morning
    The day after Christmas (364 days to wait)
    Getting woken up from a nice dream
    Not getting woken up from a bad dream
    Dropping your book in the bath (only Keener thinks that’s sad)
    ‘What’s up anyway?’ said Copper Pie.
    We walked along as Jonno explained.
    ‘Remember