Adventure 2016

Chapter 7: The raffle.

James was excited. He could feel it all over, especially deep in his stomach. Today was the big day: the raffle for the mega-grotto. He couldn't think about anything else. Not lessons, not eating lunch, not cats or starlings or seagulls or pigeons. It was as if he could will the raffle to choose him, if he concentrated on it hard enough.

At lunchtime he was on a mission. A mission for raffle tickets. From anyone who would sell theirs. He was now even willing to pay more than a pound. He'd just bought one off a boy in year six for one pound plus three packs of pokemon cards. He was currently in the middle of persuading a year five that they didn't want their ticket, what they really wanted was two pounds and as many nerf bullets as they could fit in their pockets.

Wilf came to give a status report and he had another boy with him, another year four.

"Me and Abie have just about spoken to everyone in the whole playground," Wilf said, and the other boy nodded enthusiastically. "Either they're already sold you their tickets or they're not accepting cash for it. Unless you can go higher than three pounds a ticket?"

James had already gone deep into his savings. He'd emptied an old jar of birthday money, and had even dipped into his emergency-only-for-desperately-needed-items fund. And he now had almost forty raffle tickets. Even though that meant he was forty times more likely to win than on Monday, he was still the underdog. The school had more than 700 children. He only had a 5 percent chance, or one-in-twenty, to win the prize. Still, he was feeling good. Feeling lucky. But he just didn't have the money. Not for three pounds a ticket.

"No. I can't afford it. But thanks for the effort," James said. "I know who to call for help if the Green Hands Gang need it."

The two year fours ran off to play football.

He had even made up with Jenny. She'd asked him outright if he'd stolen any raffle tickets. And he said he hadn't. He did find them in the PE cupboard though, hidden behind the never-used javelins. Jenny agreed that if she won, she'd ask for the telescope. That counted as another ticket for him, James thought.

He hadn't seen Elf all day. He hadn't thought to look. He was on the hunt for tickets. And it seemed that he'd reached his limit. But wasn't that Fred from year four over there? He was in Astronomy Club too, and he'd surely be willing to help the club out...

***

By the end of the day it wasn't just James that was buzzing. The whole school was in a frenzy. The teachers, parents and children all crammed into the main hall. Mr Billet, the caretaker, muttered something about it being a terrible fire-hazard, but no one took any notice.

On a small stage, Mr Staricoff, the headteacher was standing in front of a horizontal hexagonal drum with a handle at one end. He had a microphone in one hand, and he tapped it with a finger. The speakers responded accordingly.

"Welcome everyone!" Mr Staricoff's boomed over the hall, far louder than expected. A red-haired teacher rushed over to a black box and fiddled with something.

"Welcome," he said again at a more comfortable volume. "To this exciting event. One lucky winner will take home a ticket to the mega grotto. But we're all lucky here at Balfour. We have a wonderful staff who work tirelessly. Could we have a round of applause for the Reception teachers who, I'm sure we'll all agree, put on a wonderful nativity last week!"

There was a burst of fairly enthusiastic applause. Mr Staricoff continued.

"But they couldn't have done it without the help of the amazing teaching assistants. A round of applause for them!"

The clapping came again, less loud, but still most people in the hall put their hands together at least.

"And the fantastic parent-helpers can't be ignored. Please give them a hand!"

And he went on. And on. Every year group, every set of adults, helpers, children, the school pet, the caretaker (who just grunted something about fire regulations), the part time kitchen staff, and anyone else that had any contact with the school, all received applause.

"Get on with it," James hissed under his breath.

He was standing with Jenny, and Elf had come over to join them too.

Finally, the last clap sounded and the hall was silent. Mr Staricoff, weary from his applauding endeavours, simply turned the handle slowly on the drum. It turned around. Twice. And he opened the hatch to put his hand in.

The whole hall was silent. Not just quiet. But the kind of silent that comes right before something big. And to James, this was the biggest something of the year. He had all 38 tickets in his left hand. During silent reading he'd memorised all 38 of the different six digit numbers printed on the tickets. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, his palms and his ears.

The headteacher's hand reached slowly into the drum. He turned his head away, dramatically shielding his eyes with his other hand, and rustled through the contents. Then he pulled out a single, folded ticket.

He cleared his throat and read out each number clearly and deliberately.

"Six. Zero. Four. Seven..."

James had heard enough. He let out a big sigh and didn't even hear the last two numbers. He knew he didn't have any tickets that started 6047. His plan had failed.

Mr Staricoff had finished reading the final number. He looked to the audience of children, teachers and parents. No one said anything. He read the number out again, then said, "Does anyone have the winning ticket?"

James noticed that people were turning and looking in his direction. He felt suddenly self-conscious and his face started turning red. Were they upset with him for buring the other children's tickets? Was he about to get told off in front of the whole school?

But they weren't looking at him. They were looking to his left. Where Elf stood. Holding up her hand. And in it was the winning ticket. She had won.

One of the other year fives caught on and called out, "Elf's won! She's got it!"

And then the whole crowd cheered and clapped and Elf made her way through to the stage to collect the mega-grotto ticket from Mr Staricoff. James couldn't watch any more. He knew he should feel good for Elf, but he didn't. He only felt bad for himself. He quietly left the hall and walked out of the school gates.

When he got home he thought about Elf winning and it made him feel even worse. He hadn't even congratulated her. But then, she was rich wasn't she? Well her family were. She didn't need a prize from the mega grotto. Why did it seem so unfair?

He tried to take his mind off it by reading a book. And by watching something on Youtube. And by making some toast. And even by sorting his socks into pairs. None of it worked. There was a chiming sound. A message. Probably from Jenny telling him what a bad friend he'd been. He didn't want to read it, but he didn't have anything else to do.

It was from Jenny. It said: Get over to Elf's. Claudia's been attacked by Pigeons. We think she's dead. Come now!

Immediately he forgot any bad feelings. He grabbed his coat, pulled his shoes on and ran out of the back door without even locking it behind him.