As Mrs McCoy turned Ronan round in his wheelchair she saw me and pushed him forwards. I’d only ever seen Ronan arrive to school like he was an Olympic sprinter approaching the finish line. But that morning he was bundled up in fluffy blankets, gliding along like a husky sleigh rider.
‘Morning, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘Thanks, Matty,’ she called over her shoulder.
‘See yiz at home time!’ he said, pulling off with a burble of country music on the radio.
Mrs McCoy looked different from when I had seen her last; less gaunt, even a little bright with her blue eyes shining in her cold-blushed face. She scrunched her shoulders up and down to shiver off the chill as she came closer to me with a smile.
‘Morning, Mrs McCoy,’ I said, and tried to smile back, but it didn’t feel like I was really smiling, not because it was cold and my face was a bit numb, but because smiling had a different meaning now, or at least the one we shared did; it meant we knew how hard this was but here we were, the day had arrived,we were at the beginning of a whole new journey. ‘Is Ronan ready for his first day back?’
I felt my face thaw hearing myself talk about Ronan as if he wasn’t in front of me. I hadn’t properly looked at him or made eye contact with him and I saw a flicker in his mum’s eyes recognising my embarrassment. My awkwardness. My mistake in not speaking directly to Ronan. We’d only just begun and already I was getting it wrong.
‘He certainly is, aren’t you, Ronan?’ she said, leaning down and curling her head round into his vision. His eyes slid over to meet hers and then his head turned a fraction as if it was difficult for him to do. He glanced at her briefly before his eyes circled up and away from her again, it was hard to tell if he had heard her or not. His nose started to run and his mum pulled out a packet of tissues and wiped it for him. It came away a green colour. His eyes circled as she folded it over and went back for another wipe. Ronan’s eyes settled on me. A very direct gaze that he held the whole time she was wiping his nose, and I had to look away. When I looked back he was still staring at me. I tried to keep my face neutral, but Ronan could always tell what I was thinking. If he still could then he’d know I was thinking that I’d have hated for someone to have to do something like that for me and I was hating that someone was having to do that for him, especially as other students were filing past sneaking glances. I didn’t like feeling it but I felt embarrassed for him. If I’m honest, I think I felt disgusted. It was something a mother did for a toddler, not a sixteen-year-old boy. And if I’m really honest, I was worried that if I was left alone with Ronan I might have to do the same thing and I didn’t know if I could.
Glances from other students didn’t stop as we made our way to the assembly hall. Most of them kept their distance but a few well-meaning ones from our year came up to say:
‘Welcome back, Ronan.’
‘Good to have you back, Ronan.’
‘What took you so long, Ronan?’
Ronan made scrunching expressions on his face with each approach, which meant no one who greeted him stuck around.
‘We haven’t really been amongst crowds,’ Mrs McCoy said. ‘He’s sensitive to certain noises, just to warn you – it might all be a bit much for him today, so let’s just see.’
Kevin Sherry and his girlfriend Leanne were standing by the notice board pinning up a poster for the school formal in February, which they were organising. Leanne saw me with Ronan and tapped Kevin. He turned to look at Ronan with a blank expression. Then he looked at me and that cocky smirk spread across his face and he put his arms out in front of him as if he were a zombie. Leanne pulled his arms down and slapped the back of her hand across his chest. He stifled a laugh as she shook her head at me in apology before pulling him away and into the crowd squeezing through the doors to assembly.
When Mrs McCoy wheeled Ronan inside he moaned loudly but it couldn’t be heard amidst the rumble of voices.
‘No I think this is a bit much, Brendan. Maybe we’ll stay by the door here and see if that’s better for him.’
Mrs McCoy pulled Ronan back into the reception area just outside the assembly doorway. His moaning eased down and his face unscrunched and his breathing evened out. ‘That’s better,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘We’ll stay put, Brendan, and watch assembly from here. Do you want to stay with us or it’s OK if you want to go inside with the others?’
‘No, I’ll stay with you.’
I looked down at Ronan.
‘With you both,’ I added.
Ronan was just staring into the hall, his chest going up anddown with little quick breaths. He was the boy who always wanted to join in and now, it seemed, he wanted to stay out.
Principal Pickereen walked on-stage and the hall quietened down for assembly to begin. Ronan appeared to be intensely listening the whole time, never taking his eyes off the stage.
‘And we’d like to say a big welcome back to Ronan McCoy,’ said Principal Pickereen as assembly neared its end. ‘We’ve missed him greatly and I know everyone will do their best to make him feel right at home once again.’ On hearing his name Ronan shifted in his seat and turned his head away.
As the hall was about to empty, Mrs McCoy made a speedy spin of Ronan round to an area that was clear of the flow of students beginning to pour out. I saw Mrs O’Neill weaving her way through the crowd with a woman who she said was from the special needs class that Ronan would be joining; her name was Roberta. Mrs McCoy would be leaving soon and I could see she was nervous and a bit emotional. But Mrs O’Neill and Roberta told her everything would be fine and they would phone if anything wasn’t. Roberta suggested that I come back to the reception at lunchtime to take Ronan to the canteen so we could have lunch together.
‘Are you OK with that, Brendan?’ Mrs McCoy asked.
I didn’t know if I was. What did lunchtime with Ronan mean now?
‘Yes, I’ll be OK with that; lunchtimes are what Ronan and me know best,’ I said lightly.
After Mrs McCoy left and Roberta took Ronan to join his new class, Mrs O’Neill said I’d better hurry off to my own class, which I was already late for.
First period was English. We were reading John Steinbeck’sThe Red Pony, which I had been enjoying, but my head was too busy to concentrate. It was the same in Maths class afterwards. At breaktime I looked for Ronan, but I didn’t know whatclassroom he was in or if he got the same breaktimes as me. I wandered around alone, hoping not to run into Kevin and his gang, until the bell rang and I had to go to double Biology. I couldn’t take my eyes off the mannequin in the corner of the classroom; stripped of skin, red muscles, organs, eyes wide, staring.
When the lunch bell rang I made my way to reception. I hadn’t been waiting long before I saw Roberta at the end of the corridor with Ronan. His eyes were fixed on me as he came closer but I kept looking down, finding it hard to see him being pushed when he used to be the boy who ran. When he arrived in front of me I tried my best to smile. Roberta asked again if I was comfortable taking him to the canteen and I said I was. I think she thought I had more experience with Ronan than I did, or else she was just eager to get her own lunch.
