Broken Words

Chapter 5- 25/5/12

"Look, I'm sorry, Mr... umm."

"Winters."

"Mr Winters, I'm sorry but we cannot keep Joe here. He's quite frankly a distraction and a bad influence. A boy has been sent to hospital today."

Silent with guilt, Joe sat timidly on a chair in front of Mike, who had his hands firmly pressed against Joe's shoulders to prevent him from running away. The room felt too big, Joe melding into the chair as the headteacher's eyes bore into him.

"Please, you're the only school to give him a chance," Mike pleaded.

"I'm sorry Mr Winters, but the only thing that I can suggest now is a harsher school, much harsher than we are," The Headteacher replied.

"Joe, go and wait outside. Let the grown ups talk."

Sneaking a cautious glance at Mike and a glare at the headteacher, Joe quickly left the room. Once the door slammed behind him, he pressed his ear up against the keyhole, his impressive hearing finally coming in handy.

"Please, you know about him, you know what happened to him," Mike said pleadingly.

"I'm aware that he was abandoned as a child Mr Winters," The Headteacher replied.

"Then you'd know that he's more likely to cause trouble and get distracted," Mike continued.

"I'm sorry Mr Winters, but I fail to see..."

"Plus, I could go to the press about Joe's fainting incident."

"That has nothing to do with the school," The Headteacher said calmly, though his eyes widened.

"Really? From what I've heard, you were paid by the company, a company which employs 6 of your students at a time, to not say anything. And the teacher, Mrs Everton, who was going to go to the press and wasn't allowing herself to be paid off was conveniently fired a week later."

There was a silence as Joe nibbled on his lip. Fear was flowing through him, that he'd lose his place at school, that it would affect his future. If it affected his future, then it would take too long to get to Australia and find his mum and to get some answers.

"We can keep him until July but if he puts one foot out of line, then he's gone," The Headteacher spoke eventually, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

There was the sound of a chair scraping harshly across the flagstones and soon the door opened, revealing a smug Mike.

"Come on Joey, we have places to be," He said, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders and directing him out of the school.

***

"Mike, how mad are you?" Joe asked quietly.

"I'm not particularly happy with you Joey, you've nearly just been kicked out and I had to threaten a teacher to let you stay there for a few more months," Mike sighed.

The awkward silence descending over the car again and Joe glanced around, noticing a bag on the backseat with a shoe sticking out of it.

"What's that for?" He asked.

"Gina, Gus and I have been talking and we think that you should get your anger out in a different way," Mike answered, pulling up outside of a large sophisticated looking building.

They walked inside and the small dregs of excitement inside of Joe left his body. He'd hoped that they'd finally let him play football, like the older kids at the care home did, or basketball, maybe even cricket.

Instead he was stood in a large foyer filled with little girls in pink and white tutus.

"You're joking, please tell me that you're joking," Joe groaned. "Dance lessons!"

"I don't trust you with sports that involve objects that you could hit someone with," Mike replied as he went up to the front desk. "Hi, I'd like to sign Joe up for some dance lessons."

"I hate you," Joe mumbled as the smiley receptionist passed Mike some forms to fill out.

"Do you want to do street, tap or ballet?" Mike asked, chuckling at Joe's unimpressed expression. "Wipe that look off you face or I'll sign you up for ballet and buy you a tutu."

"Alright, street dance then," Joe mumbled.

Mike pushes the forms forward and the receptionist passed Joe a membership card.

"You can go and view the class if you want. It's down that corridor in studio four," She said.

Protests echoed down the halls as Joe was dragged by the arm to studio four and pushed inside. There was a group of kids already in there, surprisingly more boys than girls, all stretching.

"I see we have a new recruit," The teacher smiled and waved, drawing enough attention to them for all the other kids to look. "What's your name?"

Joe his behind Mike and buried his face in his coat, wishing to disappear.

"His name is Joe, he's in my class at school," A familiar voice spoke.

Curiously, Joe peered around Mike's leg and saw Hana grinning at him.

"Well Joe, if your dad is okay with it, you can stay for the rest of the session," The teacher said. "Maybe you could start to learn the dance with us."

***

For the third time, Joe pressed play on the stereo and let the music take control of his body. His movements flowed like water and he'd never been more proud of himself. He felt his anger ebbing away, like a cloud of steam, and began smiling as he finished the dance with a flourish.

There was a banging from downstairs, as if someone was whacking a broom against the ceiling. It was probably Mike again, telling him to be quiet when it was his fault that Joe was practicing.

Looking into the mirror, Joe began grinning widely. He felt good, really good, better than he would have felt if he'd done football, or basketball, or cricket.

There was something enjoyable about dancing, something that just made him forget about disappearing mothers and stressful schools.

There was just him, floating on the clouds as tiny black music notes swirled around his head like birds. He was untouchable.