Free Balaclava Boy by Jenny Robson Page A

fire and his face got burned. Or he was in an accident so he’s got scars all over. Like Mr Davids in Aloe Street.”
    But Miss Venter, aka the Dragon Lady, was on our case again.
    â€œDoogal! Dumisani! Dear! Dear! Dear!” Pat pat pat went her hand on her chest. Puff puff puff: three clouds of Lily of the Valley powder covered her face. It’s the same powder my mom uses sometimes. I know the smell well.
    Still Dumisani held up his Comprehension book so he could whisper behind it. “Break-time, Doogz. He’ll have to take the thing off to eat his lunch, right? Then we’ll get to see what’s underneath.”
    After all, Mr Rasool said we must be kind.

2
    Monday Break-Time
    We walked around the playground with the new boy, one on each side. After all, Mr Rasool said we must be kind.
    â€œMy name’s Dumisani,” said Dumisani. “And this guy’s Doogal. Or you can call us the Doo Dudes. That’s our aka.”
    Tommy nodded his balaclava.
    Then we started asking him question after question. Where did you live before? What school did you go to? Is your dad at the Coal Mine or the Power Station? Most of our dads work at the Coal Mine or the Power Station. Some of our moms too. Way off over the roof tops, you can see the huge cooling towers puffing steam into the air. Sometimes you can hear the steam engines carrying coal from the Mine.
    Do you have brothers and sisters? Do you have a Play Station?
    I wanted to laugh. We sounded just like a stupid boring Comprehension ourselves! The only question we didn’t ask was: Why are you wearing that thing on your head?
    Tommy answered all the questions through his redand-orange stripes. It was quite hard to hear what he was saying. At last he sat down and opened his lunch-box. Dumisani and I sat down too, one on each side of him. We held our breath.
    But we held our breath for nothing! Tommy didn’t take off his balaclava. He just pulled the stripes away from his neck and his mouth and slid his tomato sandwich up underneath. It was very disappointing.
    Our friend Obakeng was yelling at us now. “Hey, Doo Dudes. Let’s have ourselves some soccer! Bring that new guy along.”
    Tommy was a bit nervous at first. “Me too? Are you sure? I only ever played a few times before. So I’m not sure …”
    But Dumisani promised he’d help and explain stuff. And then we ran down to the field. X-man and Riyaad and Johan Eksteen Clayton and Moketsi from our class were there already. Plus some guys from Grade Four JH.
    Tommy turned out to be one mean player. Very mean! Especially for someone with most of his head covered.
    When the bell rang, Obakeng, aka Ostrich Legz, yelled, “Hey, Balaclava Boy! Tomorrow you’re on my side. Okay, bru?”
    â€œYou shouldn’t be so nosey!” Cherise was bossing us around from the girls’ line. “It’s Tommy’s private business. If Mr Rasool says he’s allowed to wear it, then it’s got nothing to do with you two.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t be so nosey!”
    We were lined up on the netball court with the rest of the school. Obakeng yanked Tommy into the front of the boys’ line with him. But Dumisani and I got stuck halfway down, close to Cherise. She was giving us a lecture as usual.
    â€¦ Stupid boring Geography.
    â€œYou wait!” Dumisani told her. “Straight after school, soon as we’re out the gates, we’re going to ask him. Straight out. When there’s no one else around. Then first thing tomorrow we’ll tell you why!”
    â€œYeah,” I added. “Because you’re dying to know, Cherise. Come on, don’t pretend. You and everyone else.”
    And it was the truth! All the rest of the Grade Fours were staring at our new boy. Plus the Grade Five NM bullies. Even the Grade Six snobs were having a good look.
    Miss Venter waited to lead us back to class for stupid boring Geography. Well, it