The Golden Acorn - Catherine Cooper [1]
‘He’s not the kind of boy who’s going to care if the spirit of an ancient oak tree lives or dies.’
‘If he passes the test he will.’
There was a long silence. Eventually Nora fished in her pocket and produced a beautiful golden acorn and placed it carefully on the table.
‘Put this where the boy will see it, it’s the only way to be sure.’
‘I bet he kicks it. I was watching him yesterday kicking cans and stones about. What kind of help could he possibly be? The journey we’ve got to make might be dangerous, too dangerous for the likes of Jack Brenin.’
‘Take the acorn. If he sees it and picks it up we’ll know he’s The One.’
Camelin scowled. He picked up the golden acorn and reluctantly left the kitchen to find a good place to hide and watch. He might have a long wait. He wasn’t happy: Nora was probably right but Jack Brenin was the furthest thing from a hero he’d ever seen.
THE GOLDEN ACORN
‘Oi, Pimple! Leave it!’ one of the boys from the middle of the field yelled as Jack went to kick the ball, ‘Don’t even think about it.’
Jack had been watching them play football for the past half hour. No one had asked him to join in. No one had taken any notice of him, until now. The size of the goalie running towards him should have made him think twice, but it was too late, his foot had already made contact with the ball.
‘What you do that for?’ snarled the keeper.
‘Only trying to help. Any chance of a game?’
‘No, clear off, you don’t belong here.’
‘I live here.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since yesterday.’
‘Well if I see you here again you’re gonna wish you didn’t.’
As the goalkeeper turned to rejoin the game he pushed Jack hard on the shoulder sending him to the ground. Tears welled up in Jack’s eyes; he wished he’d never come to the field. He thumped the grass with his fists. It wasn’t fair; he hadn’t asked to come and live with Grandad. He didn’t know anyone here.
Jack watched the boys from where he lay. He knew he ought to go. The game hadn’t restarted yet. There was a lot of shouting as everyone ran over to a tall boy who had blood gushing from his nose. Jack began to feel uncomfortable; the boys turned and looked in his direction. Someone pointed, another yelled, get him, then they all started yelling. The ball he’d kicked must have hit the tall boy in the face. For a moment Jack froze as they ran towards him. He managed to scramble to his feet and run as fast as he could towards the gate. Hot tears burned his cheeks. Half stumbling, half running he skidded into the back lane behind the field. He wished he’d got his bike but he’d not been able to bring it with him to Grandad’s. The boys were gaining on him, their voices growing louder and louder. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if they caught him. Jack knew he didn’t have enough time to make it back to the safety of Grandad’s house. As he rounded the corner he looked for somewhere to hide. In desperation he saw a gap in the hedge. Sometimes being small had its advantages. He flung himself into the undergrowth, wriggled through the long grass and squeezed under the bushes. He hoped they hadn’t seen him. He sat very still on the other side of the hedge. His heart pounded so loudly that he was sure they’d be able to hear it.
‘He’s got to be here somewhere.’
Jack recognised the keeper’s voice. The boys began searching the undergrowth. He could hear their footsteps getting closer and closer. They were nearly at the place where Jack had dived through the hedge.
‘Do you think he’s gone through there?’
Jack made himself as small as he could and held his breath.
‘He’s mad if he has. No one goes into Nutty Nora’s. She’ll have him if she finds him in her garden!’
Jack didn’t like the sound of Nutty Nora but he wasn’t going to leave his hiding place. They were so close now. One of them tried parting the branches but instead of exposing Jack he yelled and jumped back clutching his hands.
‘Ow! Now me hands are bleeding as well as me nose; them thorns are lethal.’
‘Come on, leave him for Nora. We’ll get him another time, let’s get on with