Rare Sight

Chapter Four

“You’re late, Joe,” said Mr Forester, when he finally got to class. The teacher tapped his watch and looked at Joe.

“Sorry, Mr Forester – someone graffitied on our car,” said Joe. “All over one side it was – it looked a right mess.”

Mr Forester looked at him for a moment, and Joe held his breath; the huge teacher was known for his biting sarcasm.

“An interesting excuse, and not one I’ve heard before. You may take your seat. Now, take note, everybody – no more of your feeble, ‘Sorry I overslept, Sir.’ From now on, I want imaginative stories, à la Joe, here.” He raised an eyebrow at Joe, who did his best to smile as he sat down and received a slap on the back from his mate Yousef.

“Nice one, Joey-boy,” he whispered. “You’ll have to write my excuses for me in future.”

Joe shrugged and Yousef looked hard at him. “You all right, mate? Only you’re a bit peaky.”

“Look… can we talk later?” said Joe.

“Break time?”

Joe nodded and leaned over to share Yousef’s history book, having left his own at home.

The time dragged. Mr Forester made a double history lesson about as much fun as slowly bleeding to death in a leech-filled swamp. When the bell finally went, Yousef had to pinch Joe awake. “You’re drooling, mate.” He swiped at his chin, but was too late – a couple of girls sitting across the aisle were pointing and laughing. Oh well, about time he gave them another reason to think him a complete loser.

“Great,” he muttered, as he grabbed his bag and followed Yousef out to the playground.

“What’s up, mate?” Yousef asked, as soon as they reached their favourite bench at the far end, well away from any teaching staff.

Joe sat down and rubbed his face. “Do you believe in ghosts, Yous?”

“What, big white ghouls that shout, ‘Woooo!’ as they trail round the graveyard?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Hiya!” Their friends Freddie and Simon landed with a thump on the bench next to them.

“God – Pargeter went on and on in double physics, didn’t he, Si? We couldn’t get away.” Freddie looked from Joe to Yousef. “What’re you two looking so serious about?”

“Ghosts,” said Yousef.

“What about ghosts?”

“Dunno – ask him,” shrugged Yousef.

Freddie and Simon both turned to Joe.

“We’re all ears, mate,” said Freddie.

“Oh, nothing, really. I just saw this programme – you know, on ghosts – and I was wondering if you lot believed in them.”

“Woooo!” said Yousef again, and the others laughed. Joe gave up and sat back as Yousef began to chase the others round the playground, waving his arms and pretending to be a ghoul.

Joe felt an icy blast on his neck and then a voice spoke, so close to his ear it made him jump,

“What did you expect?”

The voice came from a small boy sitting next to him on the bench. He held out his hand. “I’m Sebastian,” he told Joe.

Joe slid away from him along the bench. “You’re a ghost.”

Sebastian sighed. “I prefer the term ‘spirit’ – it gets away from so many of the common misconceptions about us.” He waved a hand in Yousef’s direction.