Earning Forgiveness
Sam tugged his woolly hat down and shielded his face with mittened hands as he trudged, knees bent, into the wind toward home. Only, he never made it there.
All at once, he realised with mounting panic that he was lost… he turned about, round and round, yet nothing was quite familiar.
*****
His parents were gathering up their shopping bags, getting ready for a trip to Sainsburys. Gran was knitting socks in her massive armchair, occasionally glancing at the telly where some garish Christmas special was on.
Sam, brow furrowed, gazed out the frosty window at the fat snowflakes tumbling down and…
…at the boys playing football.
Some would reckon football in December was utter madness, but the lads thought otherwise. It was pure fun.
It was simply what you did, hanging about till the grown-ups had finished their grand business in the kitchen.
It wasnt easy dashing through the snow in heavy wellies, kicking a ball that sulked and stuck in the drifts, but no one would have dared stop.
Only wimps avoid winter football! the boys would say.
Goaal! cheered Peter from Number Six as the ball skidded past the snowman standing post for their makeshift goal between two stunted willows.
Sam thumped the window sill in frustration. If I were keeper, thatd never have happened!
But he wasnt keeper. He stood here peering out onto his own childhood, counted out of the action.
So, lacking enough boys, they’d drafted the snowman for goalkeeper. Better than nothing, thought Samthough he wasnt convinced.
Whats that blobby snowman doing with his twiggy arms out, anyway? Couldnt catch a ball if you threw it right at him, Sam sighed.
Occasionally, the snowmans upturned bucket helmet would block a wild shot, but more often, it didnt: the score had ballooned to 8-3.
Theyll never win, Sam muttered. Not without me. I must do something!
He slipped out of his room and shuffled to the hall.
Mum, can I go out?
Youre grounded, Sam. No discussion.
Mum, Ive learnt my lesson, honestly. I promise never to pull Olivias hair again.
Yesthe whole punishment was for Olivia. She never looked twice at him.
Hed written her poems, doodled hearts in his diary, even hidden chocolate buttons in her bookbag. All useless.
Whenever he crossed her path, Olivia would curl her nose and turn away. Like some great ice castle, Sam grumbled.
Hed even Googled How to win over a stubborn girl. Advice ranged from bold declarations to slow, careful sieges. Olivia, however, withstood every assault.
He couldnt melt that ice cube in Olivias chest. Shed appeared mid-September and from day one, shed been in his thoughts.
Dad had said love was out of the question at elevenFar too young, mate. Enjoy life. But Sam couldnt sleep nights, Olivia bouncing around his head.
In the end, frustration tempted him during morning breakhed yanked Olivias plait, hard, perhaps to prove he mattered.
Shed screamed, cried for ages surrounded by her friends.
Hed clutched the bright orange hairband left in his fistand, strangely, smiled.
Hed finally wrung some reaction from Olivia.
The satisfaction wasnt shared by his form tutor. Shed rung his parents. They, in turn, decided Sams Christmas holidays would be spent learning important lessonsgrounded indoors, no computer, no football.
A prison camp! Sam protested. Its the twenty-first century!
Still, he hoped for a pardon.
Mum, oh please He whined, using the most ancient trick in the book.
Mum was silent.
Listen, with Christmas nearly here, maybe we… let him play football? Dad suggested. And hes sorry, arent you?
Very! Sam nodded.
After a moment, Mum relented.
Alright, but only for a little, and you come back when were home from Tesco, agreed?
Promise! Thanks Mum!
All together, they left the house before parting wayshis parents toward the shops, Sam dashing for the snowy football pitch.
Jacket chucked on the ground, Sam ousted the snowman and stood between the goalposts.
Cheered by his return, his team surged forward, hollering as they attacked.
Wind gusted, the snow crashed downmore flurries were forecast, so the lads had to make their comeback now or never.
With Sam in goal, the team dug deep: they evened the score, then nudged ahead by onea slender lead, but it felt glorious.
Then, out of nowhere, a tiny ginger kitten trotted onto the pitch, chasing after the game. Tiring, it fetched up by Sam and miaowed plaintively for attention.
What now?! shouted Sam, crossly. Im busy!
He shooed the kitten and stomped, hoping it would take the hint.
But the little chap was undeterredclinging to Sams wellies with trustful eyes.
Meanwhile, Peter from Number Six came charging upsnow clinging to his shoes.
And…
Goaaal! Peter whooped.
Sam stood humiliated between the willows, blaming himselfand the kitten.
All your fault! Go away!
The kitten gave him one long, mournful look and disappearedwhere, Sam couldnt say.
The match now flew back and forth. Watch this! Peter yelled, but then tripped and missed wide.
Oi, what do you think youre doing? a shrill voice called out. Old Mrs Green, on her way to the bins, nearly had the ball in her shins.
Sorry, Mrs Green! someone shouted. Could you kick it over?
Mrs Green grumbled but gave the ball a mighty boot.
It bounced off a tree, then spun out towards the roadstraight under the wheels of a passing car. The smack rang out in Sams ears.
Thats that, then he muttered, crestfallen.
Everyone else looked downcast. They silently thanked Mrs Green for her help and resolved to resume play when Peters parents bought a new ball after Christmas.
Arrangements made, the boys scattered homehot drinks and radiators on their minds.
Sam hesitated, then set off too. Picking up his jacket, he stopped deadin one sleeve lay the very same ginger kitten, curled into a trembling ball.
What do you want?
Mew… whimpered the kitten, shivering, eyes wide with hope.
Oh no, you dont.
Sam tipped the tiny creature out into the snow, put on his coat, and began for the house.
The little ginger figure sat forlorn in the snow, paw raised for no reason, following Sam with heartbroken eyes.
Just then, the wind rose harsh and keening, snow slicing sideways, stinging cheeks and filling his eyes.
Sam zipped his jacket high, tugged down his hat, and hunched into the blizzard towards home. And abruptly, he realisedhe was lost. Lost right in his own close! He dared not tell a soul.
Dont stop, just keep going, keep going Sam mumbled, struggling not to shout in fright. He was genuinely scared.
More frightening still, above the wailing gusts he heard the kitten’s thin, desperate cries.
Finally, Sam blundered into a treeor was it? He hugged it tight, desperate not to blow away, and yelled:
Muuum! Daaad! Help!
Sam, what on earth are you doing? came his mothers startled voice from behind. He spun and opened his eyes.
Snow was falling softly, curling through lamplight without trace of storm, no shrieking in his ears, no stabbing snows.
Moreover, Sam realisedthe tree was the lamppost, not a mighty oak at all.
Do you often cuddle lampposts? laughed his dad.
Sam stared at his parents in amazement, as though seeing them for the first time. Recovering, he shrugged nonchalantly.
Only now and then. Nothing odd about that.
Thats enough. In, now, before you catch your death, commanded Mum. Your nose has gone beetroot!
He nodded obediently and shuffled in. But then, round the corner of the house, he spied the ginger kitten watching himexactly the way his maths teacher did when he failed to do his homework.
Then, Sam realisedhed hurt the kitten, and, just as Gran warned, bad luck had boomeranged right back at him.
He dashed upstairs, unzipping hastily, and burst into the living room where Gran was still knitting and nodding at the telly.
Gran, remember you told me never to upset little kittens?
I do, love. Upset a kitten, and misfortune comes flying back at you. Also, luck will run a mile from anyone cruel to a kitten.
What if you already have hurt one?
Gran paused, dropped her needles, and eyed him keenly.
If you have, make it right. At once. Whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes?
Whatever it takes, Sam. You need to earn forgiveness, or trouble will find you for sure.
Whatever it takes, earn forgiveness… Sam echoed, baffled. But what do I actually do, Gran? Give me a hintbefore the suns down?
Listen to your heart. Itll show you.
Needles clicking again, Gran turned back to her socks. Sam dashed off, grabbed his mobile, and started scrolling.
What should you do if you upset a kitten? he typed desperately.
Say a prayer!
Too late, be ready for the worst…
Apologise.
Buy it ham.
Change your name and run!
Sam didnt have a passport, he hadnt money for ham, he didnt know how to pray, but apologynow that he could try.
He tiptoed to the hall, bundled up, and snuck out.
Mum would go spare if she found him gone, but being unforgiven was worse.
He hurried outside and eyed the gardenno sign of the kitten.
He reached the corner, circled the house, checked the bins, retraced his steps.
Where could it have gone?!
Think, Sam, think! Dont stand about like a statue!
He remembered Grans words and listened to his frantic heartthump-thump, thump-thump. It thudded, but gave no advice. Or did it?
He checked every snowy patch then dashed to the playground. There, shivering, right where hed been left, the ginger kitten waited.
Hey there, little mate… Do you remember me? Sam knelt beside him. Sorry for shouting. I shouldnt have. We were only playing football. Well doesnt matter now. Please, forgive me, will you?
Mew the kitten whimpered.
You forgive me, truly? So I can stop worrying about losing all my luck?
Mew came the reply.
Sam stood, brushed off the snow, grinning wide. Turns out, asking forgiveness is not hard after all.
Delighted, he hurried home, but halfway back stopped. What about him? He cant stay there all night thought Sam.
He glanced at his bedroom window, then at the kitten. What will Mum say?
Hed promised, no more surprises. If he broke that, it might mean house arrest for the whole festive seasonno computer, no phone.
Oh well! At least Ill have saved him! he declared, marching back to gather the trembling bundle.
Youre coming with me, youre not staying out here.
Sam tucked the kitten inside his jacket, hugging it tightlyas if it were a bag of chocolate eclairsand set off with pride, bringing home the new family member.
Hey, Jones! someone called.
Sam stopped. That was Olivia.
Just what I needed, he mumbled.
Shell see the kitten, laugh, and tell the whole class. But… let her. She can see who Ive traded for her!
Whats up? he mumbled as Olivia strode up.
I saw you from my window. Everyones gone in, only youre running around outside. Why no coat?
Not cold.
Yeah? But its minus ten by the back gate! Are you a penguin now?
Im not fussed about catching a cold. Not with holiday detention.
Wait, Olivia stepped closer, breath warm on his cheeks. Have you got… a kitten?
Um yeah.
Let me see!
Anything but that, Sam thought. ButOlivia liked kittens?
Oh, hes adorable! But hes freezing! she smiled.
Thats why Im taking him home. To keep him warm.
Can I come too? My folks said I could have an hour out, only there’s nobody about. I could show you how to care for kittenswhat they should and shouldnt eat.
Howd you know all that?
Ive got a kitten at home too. Mum bought me a book.
Well alright, then, replied Sam, stunned. He couldnt decide what surprised him morethat Olivia liked kittens, or that she was inviting herself along.
When Mum opened the door to her soncoatless, accompanied by Oliviashe nearly dropped her mug in shock.
But when Sam said Olivia was only visiting, not complaining, her mood changed at once.
Come in, Olivia, dear! Ill pop the kettle on and bring out the good chocolates.
But, Mum, um We’re not alone. Sam muttered.
Who else? More guests? Ive got plenty of biscuits.
No, just I found this kitten. He was freezing. Can we keep him?
He drew the quivering flame-orange kitten from under his jacket.
Mum stared, dumbfounded.
Ill care for him. Olivia can teach me what to do. She has a kitten, she knows.
Possibly, in other circumstances, Mum might have refusedbut seeing Sam reconciled with Olivia, meaning thered be no more fraught meetings at parents evening…
All right, you can keep him. Maybe a kitten will make a gentleman of you yet! Mum smiled and headed to the kitchen.
A moment later, Dad came in and shook Sams hand.
Well done, son. You did the right thing!
Then Gran brought in a tiny knitted blanket for the kitten, beaming. Before she disappeared, she bent and whispered in Sams ear:
You did exactly right. And now, things will all come good for you.
Sam grinned, cheeks warm despite the chill outside. The little kittennow curled up in Grans blanket, purring softlyblinked at him with bright, trusting eyes.
Olivia knelt beside him. He likes you, she whispered, stroking the tiny head. Side by side, they watched as the kitten batted at a loose piece of yarn, then, finally exhausted, curled into a perfect spiral in Sams lap.
Outside, the snow fell thick and quiet, softening the world in white. Inside, laughter tumbled from the kitchen. Mum fussed with the kettle, Grans needles clicked on, and Dad slung an arm around Sams shoulders.
For a moment, Sam watched Olivia, her hair shining in the warm lamplight, and the little kitten, whose forgiveness had given him back his luckand maybe, just maybe, something more.
I reckon, Sam whispered, well call him Lucky.
Olivia looked up and smiled. Lucks only the start, you know.
The kitten purred, and Samwith his new friend, the forgiveness hed earned, and Olivia at his sidefelt, at last, right at home.
