Durrant Running On Empty

eBook
ISBN: 978-0-85763-843-4
Verlag: Nosy Crow Ltd
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 240 Seiten

AJ's grandfather has always been the one to keep his unusual family together, so when he dies things start to unravel at the edges. AJ is worried about his parents but they don't really seem to notice. In order to deal with his grief and to keep his anxiety at bay, AJ does what he and his grandfather did best: running. Round and round the Olympic Park, aiming for the cross country trials. Running to escape, AJ only seems to be heading ever closer to disaster. Running On Empty is a beautiful book about false starts and emotional journeys, with hope as the ultimate finishing line. From the author of Little Bits of Sky and Talking to the Moon Cover illustration by Rob Biddulph. Winner of the Student Vote, UKLA Book Award 2019 Highly Commended, UKLA Teachers Book Award 2019 Nominated for the 2019 CILIP Carnegie Medal Shortlisted for the 2018 North Somerset Teachers' Book AwardsShortlisted for the Little Rebels Award 2019 Shortlisted for the Warwickshire Book Award 2019 Shortlisted for the Tower Hamlets Book Award 2019 Lyrical, moving and realistic, SE Durrant's Running on Empty is about the struggle of an 11-year-old carer who is starting secondary school and wants to run like Usain Bolt. With a rich and diverse cast, it sings.' - Sunday Times 'Running on Empty is one of the best children's novels of the year.' - Express 'Beautiful writing about family, loss, dreams and small pleasures that packs a real emotional punch.' - The Bookseller 'I absolutely love this book!...it's a light-hearted, tender book, as warm and funny as AJ himself.' - Official Jacqueline Wilson Magazine 'Running on Empty is a deeply moving story of one young carer's struggle to keep his family together... It is beautifully written and thought provoking. A really special book.' - North Somerset Teachers' Book Award 'AJ's situation is described with powerful realism, and yet with the very lightest of touches. He is essentially a young carer, whose parents have learning difficulties, but there is never a sniff of a stereotype or call for pity. Durrant makes important points about avoiding assumptions with huge subtlety, sensitivity and humour. Convincing, uplifting and immensely readable.' - BookTrust

S.E. Durrant has wanted to be a writer since she was a child and has always squeezed writing in around the edges of her life. She spent her childhood in Scotland before moving to Leicestershire when she was twelve. She studied Fine Art (painting) and then travelled widely before settling in south London. She has taken on many jobs including working on a stall at Covent Garden market, selling paintings in Venice and teaching art to children. For many years she worked on research bids at the University of London. She now lives in Brighton with her partner and two teenage children, all of whom are taller than she is.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Durrant, S. E.

Weitere Mitwirkende

Biddulph, Rob

Leseproben

CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE

The most amazing thing I ever saw was Usain Bolt winning the 100 metres at the London Olympics. I was there with my mum, dad and grandad and we were high up in the stadium and I was seven years old and I felt like I was at the centre of the universe. And when he broke the Olympic record I thought the noise would lift the stadium up off the ground and catapult it right out into space. Because nothing about that moment felt ordinary.

And one of the most unforgettable things about it – and not the best – was when people ran to the front and pushed forward for autographs, there was Amit from my class. He just popped up on the big screen. He was enormous. His head was the height of the high jump. He was trying to squeeze through to the barrier and he was just desperate to touch Usain Bolt or get his autograph on his ticket. And he did. He pushed right to the front.

I felt sort of annoyed. I hadn’t even known he was there. I tried not to let it bother me but it did. And it’s sort of bugged me ever since. I just had to not look too hard when Amit got right up close to Usain Bolt, and when he got his autograph I thought I’d be sick. I’m not kidding. I nearly threw up. I was thinking maybe I should run down to the front too and try to catch him when he did his lap of honour. He had the Jamaican flag round his shoulders and he didn’t look in any hurry to get out of the stadium. But then I thought no, I might be too late. And it would be so embarrassing if I got caught on TV as the boy who tried to run down and couldn’t get through. So I just sat there and Amit looked right into the camera and he was beaming from ear to ear like he’d just won the golden ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I would have done anything for that autograph and I still would, to tell you the truth, even though I’m eleven years old now. I tried to concentrate on what I already had, which I guess was something more spiritual. I felt like I had a connection with Usain Bolt and having Amit there sort of spoilt it. I think Usain Bolt probably felt more spiritual too. He was probably quite annoyed with all these people trying to get close to him, though he seemed to be quite enjoying it. He’s good with the crowd.

Anyway, Amit got the autograph and I didn’t and he took it to school at the start of Year 3 and did a talk about how Usain Bolt gave him a special look when he signed his ticket. It was sickening. But that’s Amit for you. He’s better looking and cleverer than everyone else and he always gets what he wants. I expect every school’s got a kid like that.

And on the whole I’ve managed to turn that moment around in my head and make myself feel badly about Amit getting the autograph. I think, Why couldn’t he just stay in his seat and enjoy the moment? What was the matter with him? It’s funny how you can change the way you feel if you put your mind to it.

And the thing about that race is it really was special for me because the Olympic Stadium is just a few streets from our house. We saw them build it. Honestly. We’re that close. And another reason it was special is Usain Bolt won in 9.63 seconds and Grandad lived at number 9 and we live down the road at number 63. I sometimes think if Grandad lived at number 8 Usain Bolt might have run 100 metres in 8.63 seconds and if Grandad had lived at number 7 and Usain Bolt had won the race in 7.63 seconds, the world would have physically exploded because it would have been a miracle. I know that might sound stupid but it’s just a feeling I’ve got.

But usually when I think of Usain Bolt winning the 100 metres I think of Mum shouting at the top of her voice and Dad with his eyes shut and his hands over his ears and Grandad squeezing my hand and saying, “Can you believe it, AJ?” and me just knowing I would remember that moment for the rest of my life.

Buzzing

I’m going to tell you what makes me different straight away. If I don’t, it sort of buzzes around at the back of my brain like a fly stuck in a room. And it bugs me. You know that thing where they bang against the window and you just have to let them out because they’re stopping you thinking about anything else? Well, that’s how it feels. So what I do is either I open the window and let the fly buzz out into the world or I decide to never, ever let the fly out and eventually it stops buzzing. It depends who I’m talking to.

The thing that makes me different from other eleven-year-old boys, apart from my fantastic running ability, is my parents have learning difficulties. It’s no big deal for me. Really it isn’t. I don’t look after them. We look after each other.

My mum makes the best cakes ever. She’s the kindest person in the world too. Honestly, you’d know if you met her. She might not be clever in the way of making sense of lots of things very quickly but she’s clever in the way of understanding bigger things better than most people. She doesn’t waste years of her life sending messages or texting. She doesn’t do any of that. She won’t even answer the phone. She talks to people if they’re with her but apart from that she’s not bothered. And she doesn’t spend loads of time worrying either. She worries about something and then she stops worrying and then she’s happy.

And when I worry I’m awake all night and in the morning my head hurts and my stomach aches and I can’t concentrate at school. And I’m supposed to be clever. Not brilliant but sort of OK. But when Mum gets up she’s smiling. Even though there’s lots to worry about, she’s smiling. So who’s cleverer?

My dad’s more like me in the way of worrying. He can’t just stop. If he’s worried, he walks up and down the garden, even if it’s the middle of the night. He just walks up and down, up and down, between the vegetables.

My dad practically lives in the garden. If you came to our house you might not see him unless you look out of the kitchen window, and then you might just see the top of his hat poking out from behind the beans. He grows potatoes, onions, beans, pumpkins, spinach and garlic. And if that makes you think we’ve got a big garden, we haven’t. It’s seven steps from our kitchen door to our back fence. I’m not kidding. One more step and you’d knock yourself out. Dad just grows everything really close together. Grandad taught him that.

My mum has four rules for life. My dad has one.

My mum’s are:

Be kind to people

Do your best

Check everything’s switched off

Remember to look at the sky

My dad’s rule is:

Love Alice (that’s my mum)

As for any other rules he follows hers. She’s the most important person in the world to him. They are like two halves of a whole. They fit perfectly. They’re just not so good at the complicated stuff, like sorting out forms or if the washing machine needs fixing. My grandad did all that. That’s my mum’s dad.

My grandad lived down the road but he died two months ago. Just before school broke up for summer. And I know it really wasn’t my fault, but sometimes I think maybe he died because of me. And that makes me feel so bad. Because I was the last one to see him alive.

100 metres is 100 metres

My grandad was always running. Even when he was old he never really stopped. When I was eight I said can I come too and he said yes. He was pretty pleased I think. And those times running with him were some of the happiest times of my life. I’m not kidding.

We’ve got this little park round the corner and we went round it one day and measured the path like a running track. Grandad had a little pot of red paint and a tiny paintbrush and he just knelt down and made a dot every hundred metres in exactly the right place. He didn’t even pretend not to do it. He just painted a dot and nobody seemed to notice.

We worked out it’s 100 metres from the flower bed to the dog-poo bin, 100 metres from the dog-poo bin to halfway down the bench, 100 metres from halfway down the bench to the broken tree, and 100 metres from the broken tree to the shelter with the graffiti. We went round the path twice and marked out 1,000 metres, all in exactly the right place. I’d tell you more about it but it’s probably best if you come yourself, if you want to see. Because it sounds quite boring and it really isn’t boring at all.

And the best thing about our track is Grandad said it’s exactly the same as the Olympic track because 100 metres is 100 metres wherever it is.

Anyway, last time I saw Grandad he just ran from the dog-poo bin to the bench and then he said, “I’m going to have to go home, AJ. I’m not feeling too good.”

I said, “Please, Grandad, just a bit more. You can sit on the bench.”

But he shook his head.

“No, AJ. Got to go.”

And then he smiled. “See if you can beat your record,” he said.

And as he walked away he didn’t even look back. He just walked down the shortcut through the bushes and he was gone. I was quite disappointed to be honest but I jogged round the park a few times and then I ran 400 metres in about 60 seconds. It was my fastest time ever. I couldn’t wait to tell him, I knew he’d be really impressed.

But when I got to his house he wouldn’t answer the door. My aunt Josephine and my cousin Aisha were round, so Mum and Josephine went to Grandad’s with the spare keys and I stayed at home and looked after Aisha (the best kid in the world by the way). And they found Grandad dead. He’d just sat down on his chair and he was dead....