I arrived at school and two of the boys in my class said. C’mon, we’ve got this great place to go. It wasn’t until we were out of the School grounds that I thought to question where we were going. It’s this quiet place where no one will find us. They said. Agh… shouldn’t we be going back. I asked as we got further from the school. We’re not going to school. Realizing that I was included in this sweeping gesture I suggested that maybe I should just head back to school by myself. It’s already too late and besides, the bell’s already gone. You’ll get in trouble if you go back now. Being in year one I knew only too well the repercussions of being late for class.
The three of us walked down a quiet street and into the Eton Arcade. This is the place, it’s brilliant. I wasn’t quite sure why we weren’t at school, I liked school. But I was completely at a loss as to why we had walked into the arcade where my mom worked. We sneaked up the stairs and onto the first floor, remarkably also where my mom worked. We snuck around the corner and there was a small dark hall that only ran for five feet before stopping at a single door. This is it. We were only five doors away from the soft furnishing company where my mom made curtains. My mom works just there. I said. The ramifications of what I was doing were only now sinking in and I desperately wanted to return to school. They’ll never find us here. This is the best spot ever. The other boys said.
We sat, not knowing quite what to do, an air of defiance about us. I had been filled-in on what WAGGING school was, and on how tough this made us. After the first twenty minutes I started to get bored. We couldn’t move out of our small prison. There was nothing to do. By the time ten thirty came around all three of us wondering why we were there.
Anthony, what are you doing here? It was one of the women from my mother’s work. I can’t remember what I said if anything, but one by one each of the women from my mother’s work walked around the corner. It turned out that the door at the end of the small corridor was the door to the room where my mother had her morning tea every morning. The very last people to round the corner were my mom and her boss.
I don’t remember what was said, what excuse I made up or what trouble I got into, but I do know that my friends and I were back at school, standing in front of the whole class before eleven o’clock.