Lizard's Leap; Chapter Twenty One: I Can and I Will

Mark had driven everyone mad all morning going on about a competition on the Saturday morning children’s show, Get Up and Go.

Karen tried to explain to him that, yes, he was right, the answer to the question was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. But, she added, that didn’t automatically mean that if he sent in a text with the answer that he would win the prize. She tried to tell him that spending one pound seventy five on the text would only waste most of his pocket money.

Mark thought his mum was nuts, it was a foregone conclusion. What did she know? She didn’t even watch the program. He knew the answer. He really, really did. So, of course, that meant that he’d win the year's supply of free chocolate, he knew the answer.

Karen was patient. She tried to explain the marketing strategy behind phone competition. She said that a million other children the length and breadth of the country would also know the answer, would also send in a card, and would also be convinced that they were assured of the prize. Her voice fell on deaf ears. Mark was sorting out some drawer space to house his hoard. The text was sent to the programme. Karen left him to learn the lesson that she couldn’t teach him with words.

He had a week to wait until the winner was drawn.

That night Mark dreamed about the competition: He was in the television studio to collect his prize—in real life it would arrive by post—and when his name was called he rushed forward as three hundred and sixty five yummy chocolate bars, of every variety imaginable, fell around him. He sank to his knees and gorged on the wonderful icky chocolate. Manners had no place in such sweet dreams.

Then a voice came over the microphone saying there had been a mistake, that Mark hadn’t been the only one who knew the answer and that he had to share his prize with every child in the country...

He woke suddenly, sitting up in bed sticky with sweat, the taste of the chocolate almost tangible in his mouth. He found it very hard to go back to sleep that night. What if he didn’t win? This was the first time that the possibility had seemed very real. He was going to win. Wasn’t he?

The next morning he fretted about the prize. He couldn’t settle. Even winding his sister up didn’t have its usual appeal. He had to do something.
The first stirrings of an idea formed in his mind. He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but who would know? He could always deny it, that usually got him by.

On the pretence of picking up some schoolwork that he’d left there, he went round to his grandparents’ house the night before the prize-winner’s name was to be drawn, It only took a second to scribble out a quick note, put it in the frame and chant the trigger verse. He felt butterflies of excitement in his belly as the room gave a small jolt. Now, all he had to do was wait. Tomorrow his name would be drawn from the drum and he would win the prize.

The next morning they were all at Nana’s watching the programme. Mark couldn’t keep still. He was so excited.

‘I bet you don’t win it,’ Vicki said, in her best know-it-all voice that always wound her brother up.

‘Oh, shut up, Vicki. I am going to win it and when I do I won’t be sharing it with you, so there.’

‘Mark, there’s as much chance of you winning as there is of me being the next Queen of England,’ Emma said. ‘And that ain’t never gonna happen because Prince William’s much too posh for me.’

‘I am going to win, I am, I tell you, I know I am becau…’ Mark trailed off and hung his head.

‘How do you know you’re going to win?’ Kerry asked, alerted by the way he stopped himself mid-brag. She looked at him suspiciously. ‘What are you up to, Mark?’

‘Nuffink, I just think I am, that’s all. And anyway, Emma, Prince William would never fancy you, because…because…you haven’t got a tiara and you can’t ride a horse,’

‘I don’t fancy him anyway,’ Emma protested.
‘Sush, Mark hissed. ‘This is it.’

On the screen, the good-looking man sitting on a bright yellow sofa, a cheesy grin plastered across his face was about to pick the name of the competition winner. Mark crossed his fingers on both hands; a knowing smile formed on his mouth.

“…And the winner is…Mark Forest from Cumbria. Well done, Mark. The chocolate will be delivered to you in the next couple of days. Don’t eat it all at once, now.’

‘Yes. Yes. I won. Told you I’d win.’ Mark was flying round the living room with his hands in the air. The girls were sitting on the sofa, gaping.
Nana came in from the kitchen to see what all the noise was about. ‘Well, well, well. You said all along you’d win. Do you have a magic wand or something?’

Kerry’s eyes narrowed and she looked at her cousin. She had a bad feeling about this. Following her hunch she went upstairs and into the bedroom. The frame sat on the mantelpiece as usual. It all looked in order from the doorway but as she got up close she noticed a tiny red spot on the white paintwork of the fireplace. She knew what it was, Blackberry juice.

One of the lizards had moved across the frame and was sitting close to the right hand bunch of berries. With a heavy heart Kerry counted, but she already knew the total. One of the berries had disappeared and there were only twenty-two left.

‘Mark,’ she screamed at the top of her voice. Footsteps clattered up the stairs and the girls burst into the room.

‘Wazzup, Kez?’ Vicki asked.

‘Mark used the frame to win the prize.’ Kerry fumed.

Vicki and Emma gasped.

‘I did not,’ said Mark, who had slunk round the door looking guilty. ‘That’s a big fat lie.’ He had his hands in his pockets and his head down. His defence wasn’t very convincing.

‘Liar! One of the berries is missing. You know you did it and if you don’t admit it I’m going to make you wish you’d been born a slug. Then at least you could slither back under your dirty little stone.’

‘Aw, Mark, how could you?’ Vicki said. ‘You must have known we’d find out. You knew you were breaking the rules. What’s Sylvia going to say? She’ll never trust us again.’

Mark looked ashamed and shuffled from foot to foot. There was no doubt about his guilt. ‘I thought it would be alright,’ he said lamely.
‘Mark Forest, you would do anything for chocolate,’ Emma raged. ‘You’d even kiss bad breath Julie Smith if she’d just eaten a chocolate bar.’

‘Eurgh,’ said Vicki and Kerry in unison.

‘I would not.’ Mark managed to muster up a smidgen of indignation. ‘Look, when the chocolate comes I’ll give you lot half of it.’

‘I don’t think you should even have the prize,’ Vicki said. ‘After all, you only won it because you cheated.’

Vicki sat on the bed with her hands resting on her chin and she hummed to herself. This was a sign that she was thinking. When she raised her head the others stopped their ongoing argument to hear what she had to say. Mark instinctively knew that he wasn’t going to like it.

‘I think,’ Vicki began in a voice that was clearly going to take no argument. ‘I think you should give the chocolate to charity.’

‘What?’ Mark spluttered. That was the most preposterous thing he’d ever heard. ‘Dream on, sister,’ he added. He’d heard that in a film and thought it sounded cool. ‘That isn’t going to happen and you can’t make me.’

Mark was aware that Vicki probably could make him but there was a lot at stake and he had to at least try. ‘I’m sorry, Vicki,’ he said, buckling at the thought of all the chocolate being given away. ‘Please, let me keep it. I promise I’ll do anything you say.’

Vicki had made up her mind and she shook her head stubbornly.

‘I know,’ Emma said. ‘There was that appeal on the radio yesterday for toys and things to be given to the children’s hospital for the sick kids at Christmas. That would be perfect.’

‘No way,’ Mark said in total disgust. ‘They’ll probably be so ill that they’ll only throw it back up again anyway and that would just be a big waste.’

‘Did you know that, in this country alone, over three thousand children spend Christmas in hospital?’ Kerry said.

‘Did you know,’ Emma, imitating Kerry, ‘that, in this country alone, one girl is going to get thrown out of a bedroom window for being a super nerd?’

‘You are going to give the prize to the hospital. Right?’ ordered Vicki losing her temper.

‘No,’ Mark said. The thought of ten Chinese burns was better than the thought of losing three hundred and sixty-five chocolate bars.

Vicki got a pen and paper and began to write.

‘What’s that? What are you doing?’ Mark asked, not wanting to know.

‘Oh, it’s just a note to put in the frame asking it to make you vomit every time you eat one of those chocolate bars. I can’t make you give them away, but I can make sure that you don’t enjoy them.’

‘Oh, all right then. I’ll give it to the rotten kids in the rotten hospital.’ Mark knew when he was beaten.

‘Hang on,’ Emma said. ‘If he gives all that chocolate to the hospital, he’s going to be a flippin’ hero. That’s not fair, is it?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Vicki said. ‘He’ll just have to donate it anonymously. We’ll get Mum to drop it off next time she goes into town.’

The chocolate arrived the very next day. And Mark was a hero, even if it was only his parents and grandparents who thought so. His mum had a tear in her eye when he told her that he wanted to donate his prize to the hospital. Vicki nearly choked, she was that angry.

‘Oh Sweetie, you are the kindest, gentlest, most generous little boy in the world. I am so proud of you.’

Mark beamed with the burst of praise until he saw Vicki’s face glowering at him behind his mother’s back.

‘Mum. To be honest, it was all our Vicki’s idea,’ he said truthfully.

Both the children had been given five pounds for being so thoughtful. At first Vicki wanted to find a good cause to donate that to, as well, but they decided to share it with their cousins. They added to it with their pocket money and had lunch at MacDonald’s.

‘It’s nice to think of all those kids having some chocolate on Christmas morning,’ said Mark, munching on his Super Burger with double cheese and extra fries. ‘I’m glad I gave it to them. They are giving away computer systems on this week’s Get Up And Go, maybe I’m on a roll. He smiled at the girls as a large glob of mayo dropped onto his chin.

‘Eurgh, gross.’ Vicki said, losing her appetite.