The Bubble Boy Read Free Page A

Then he turns his head to look back to where the plane came from.
    ‘We’re on the flight path,’ I say.
    Amir jumps and looks at me with his eyes bulging above his mask.
    ‘We’re on the flight path for Heathrow.’
    He doesn’t say anything; he just looks at the planes in the sky. It’s only been a day but maybe he’s already wishing he was out there with them instead of being stuck in here
with me.
    I look up at the clock. It’s nearly 11 a.m. I flip up the lid of my laptop (I’ve got a Science lesson this morning), look at the screen, then glance over the top. Amir sighs, walks
away from the window and then stops by the door.
    ‘You let me know if you want anything,’ he says.
    ‘Okay.’
    He opens the door and in a second he’s gone.
    I wish the people didn’t change so often. It’s like they only stay until I’ve got to know them and then they move somewhere else and new people come in and I have to start all
over again.
    I click on my laptop and start my lesson with Sarah. Sarah is my science teacher. She has brown hair, brown eyes and wears a blue cardigan. I don’t know if she has any legs but I do know
that when she says my name the J sounds like a D and the O sounds like an E, so she calls me Dew not Joe. Sarah doesn’t talk to me about TV, about football, or the weather. All she talks to
me about is science. It’s the only way I can learn without the risk of people bringing me infections. Sometimes she is there for real and we can talk, but today I think that maybe she has
gone on holiday because she’s left me a video of her to click on.
    I have to do this lesson for two hours every week. I don’t get holidays the same time as other kids because I miss school when I’m poorly. Today’s lesson is about resonance. I
click on Sarah’s picture. The screen changes to a diagram of two boxes side by side with two wires inside. I close my eyes, open them again. It’s only been a few seconds but I already
feel like yawning. I look at my browser, think of going on YouTube, maybe Spotify. It’s not like Sarah’s here to check I’ve done it. I fast-forward. A picture comes up of sound
waves beating down from a boat to the bottom of the ocean. I go to click on the boat but the Skype icon at the bottom of my screen starts flashing. I click on it.
    Hi Joe
11:10
    I smile.
    Hi Henry. What are you doing?
11:10
    The pencil scribbles on the screen.
    Stuck in a bubble . . . You?
11:11
Stuck in a bubble.
11:11
Ha.
11:12
You doing much today?
11:12
Learning physics from a cartoon. Waiting for Beth.
You going out of your room?
11:13
No . . . Too hot . . . The cooling system broke yesterday.
11:14
Ha.
11:14
I fried!
11:14
    I smile again and feel warm inside.
    Want to go to screen?
11:15
    Henry feels more like my real friend when I can actually see him.
    Sure.
11:15
They’re digging up the road outside.
11:15
Show me.
11:15
    We switch to video. Henry’s smiling face fills the screen and we wave. I take my laptop over to the window and tilt it so the camera is pointing down the road. I show
Henry the roadworks, the yellow diggers and the traffic lights, then I pan it across the street, show him the people walking in the rain past the shop fronts, then the buildings up above, the big
tall windows, one stacked upon another, then I show him the gutters and the roofs. I stop by the building opposite and tell him that’s where the man in the grey boiler suit comes out and
slits the pigeons’ throats.
    ‘Wait until he comes out again,’ he says.
    ‘I can’t see him. Maybe he’s having a cup of tea.’
    ‘Show me tomorrow then.’
    I move the camera on, more rooftops, more shop doorways, more people walking in the rain.
    ‘See, nothing much happens.’
    ‘Wanna see out my window?’
    ‘Sure.’ The screen goes white.
    ‘Henry!’ I say. ‘Don’t point the camera at the sun.’
    ‘Oops, sorry.’ He angles the camera down. I see the big red-brick buildings sticking up into the sky, and a