Kit de Waal - My Name Is Leon

“Happy?” she says.

“Yes.”

After breakfast, Leon takes all his new things to his room with his photograph. He puts his new toys on the bed and then turns the photograph over. There is an address printed in big gold letters.

“HALLADAYS”

287 DOVEDALE ROAD

DOVEDALE HEATH

Leon puts the photograph in his backpack and then he takes it out again. He reads what the letter says. He reads it twice. He’s angry with the person who wrote the letter and put three kisses on it and makes Jake sleep in a bedroom all on his own. He puts the photograph next to his bed and gets dressed.

Mr. Devlin is watering his plantswhen Leon wheels his bike into the allotments. Leon stops and they both look over toward Tufty’s shed but he isn’t there. Mr. Devlin waves him over.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Today, you said.”

“Yes. I got an AT-AT and Darth Vader and some money.”

“Good. And I’ve got something for you as well. I don’t think our friend Mr. Burrows will object to this.”

He goes into his shed and comes back with a brown paper bag.

“I’ve been watching you. Come with me.”

Leon follows him to one of the plots between Tufty and Mr. Devlin. It’s overgrown and untidy; no one looks after it.

Mr. Devlin points to a spot on the earth.

“Stand there.”

He walks with long steps to a bush with green berries on it.

“That’s about twelve feet. It’s about one-quarter of a standard plot. It now belongs to you. It’s your small patch of the planet. It’s arranged with the committee and I’m your sponsor.”

He opens the paper bag and gives Leon a small fork with a wooden handle and a trowel that matches it.

“Now you have to look after it, young man. You have to weed it and plant some seeds and water them. You’re in charge of them. Do you understand? It’s hard work. It might look easy but it isn’t. Responsibility never is. What does responsibility mean?”

“When you’re in charge of something.”

“That’s only part of it.”

“And it means you have to look after something and it’s always there in your mind even when you can’t see it, because you’re thinking about it all the time and you have to make sure it’s safe and everything you do is about looking after that thing and making sure it’s all right even when you don’t want to do it. Because that’s your job.”

Mr. Devlin nods and waits a little while before he speaks again.

“Very eloquent. Yes. And now this one-quarter plot belongs to you. Look.”

He puts his hand in his pocket and takes out a packet of seeds.

“Scarlet Emperor. You remember we planted those seeds over there? Remember? Start with those. It’s not too late in the season.”

“I haven’t got the wigwam,” Leon says.

“We will do it together. Later.”

Leon’s backpack is so heavy. He has some tins of food from Sylvia’s cupboard inside and a bag of sugar and a blanket from the airing cupboard. He puts the pack down and looks at his plot. Then he looks at Tufty’s plants in neat and tidy rows and Mr. Devlin’s and Mr. and Mrs. Atwal’s and all the others. Like Mr. Devlin said, it might look easy but it isn’t.

“It seems to me you might need a little help to get you started. Get the seeds in the ground and — ah, here is just the man.”

Mr. Devlin moves away from Leon. He goes to the edge of Leon’s little plot. Tufty’s bike skids to a halt and he gets off. The two men look at each other for ages but no one speaks, so Leon tells Tufty about his present.

“He gave you these?” says Tufty, weighing the tools in his hand. “He give you any other presents? He give you anything else?”

“Some seeds,” says Leon.

“They ain’t enough. You need more than these to start with. Come.”

Leon turns to wave at Mr. Devlin but he is already walking away.

Leon’s plot has some raised beds. That’s what Tufty calls them, raised beds. They are mini gardens surrounded by wood. He has four of them and some raspberry bushes. The raspberries are sour. The best plot in the whole allotment is Mr. and Mrs. Atwal’s and the second is the woman who wears long skirts, but third is Tufty’s.

“Right,” he says, “we got to clear the beds first, then we work on the path.”

“It’s my birthday today,” says Leon.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember. You told me.”

“I’m ten.”

“Yeah?”

Tufty makes Leon sit down on one of his fold-up chairs and then he gives him a can of pop.

“You can’t do hard work on your birthday, Star. You got to take it easy. Did you get your presents yet?”

“I got an AT-AT and Darth Vader.”

“Yeah? That’s good.”

“And I got some money.”

“Nice.”

“And Mr. Devlin gave me these tools.”

“They’re good old tools, Star. Nice handles.” Tufty slaps him on his shoulder. “Ten! I remember being ten. You got no worries yet, Star! You got to enjoy it. Yeah, wish I was ten again, sometimes.”

Leon looks at his backpack with the tins inside and thinks how far he has to go on his bike.

“How did you get your muscles, Tufty?” he asks.

“Me? Just born this way. I used to do a bit of martial arts when I was young.”

Tufty springs up onto his feet and kicks the air; he sweeps one hand around in a circle and then stabs the air with the other.

“You want me to teach you some moves? Come. Stand up. Stand like this.”

Leon stands with his feet apart.

“First thing you got to know is kung fu means ‘work hard,’ so this ain’t easy. Not if you want to get it right. Okay, first you need to get your stance right. A firm stance is going to keep you on your feet. You know, if someone comes for you and you’re standing right like this”—Tufty spreads his legs wide—“this is horse stance. If you’re in horse stance it’s difficult to knock you down. Then there’s this, this, this.”

Tufty is moving and punching the air and waving his arms and he looks like nobody could beat him.

“Come on, copy me.”

Leon does everything that Tufty does, stances, stretches, punches, blocks, and it takes a long time.

“Yeah, yeah, you got it. You do those moves every day and you get muscles. You get muscles and no one can fuck with you.”

Leon copies Tufty carefully.

Tufty moves like a cross between a soldier and a ballet dancer, graceful and dangerous.

“When people fuck with you, you got a choice. You fuck back or you swallow down.”

He raises one leg a few inches off the floor and draws a circle in the air. He stares straight ahead but his chest is going up and down. Leon knows he’s angry and he’s thinking about the policemen who trampled on his posters and took Castro away.

“Swallow down enough times and you start to choke.”

He stops suddenly and puts his foot on the ground. He blows all the air from his belly and closes his eyes.

“Or you learn to accept. Let go. Breathe easy.”

Tufty brings both hands together like he’s praying. Then he turns his head quickly to look at Leon. “But you know what’s best?” he says. “You need some classes. They got classes up on Carpenter Road.”

Leon sits down and drinks his can of soda.

“You could get your mom to take you. I’ll show you where. Or your dad can take you. It’s not far. Where do you live?”

“Ten College Road.”

“So, it’s not far. Tell your mom you want to do it. Okay? You got some good moves there.”

Leon stands up. “I’ve got to go now.”

Leon picks up his tools and puts them in the paper bag with his Scarlet Emperor seeds. He puts the bag in his pack and it’s even heavier than it was before.