Body, Boundaries & Safety
It Was His Brother’s Idea
Rory had been at Ollie’s since ten o’clock. Toast, eaten standing up. “SHUT THE BACK DOOR!” Twice. Now they were out in the backyard. The grass was striped the wrong way, and the shed had a flat black roof with bubbles in it, silver showing through.
Ollie’s brother Kai came out with a bag of chips and no shoes. He was eleven. He had one sock on. Why one? Nobody asked. He walked across the wet grass like it was carpet. Didn’t even notice.
Kai pointed the chip bag up at the house. On the flat roof over the kitchen sat a tennis ball. It had been up there since summer. Gray now, and split down one side. “That’s mine,” said Kai.
Chips down on the step. Then up the rain barrel and onto the shed, faster than you can say it. On the shed roof he wiped his hands on his shorts. Two gray stripes. His feet on the roof went bonk, bonk. Hollow.
The big roof was a bit above his head. Elbows over the edge. One kick against the wall. UP! He stood there and held the split ball high, like a trophy. From down on the grass he looked ENORMOUS.
At Rory’s house there was a rule: no climbing on the garage. Such an old rule nobody even said it out loud anymore. Rory stood in the middle of the lawn, hands pulled up into his sleeves. Ollie put one foot on the rain barrel lid. It sank, softly. Whump.
“Come on,” said Kai. Easy, like telling you what day it was. “It’s completely fine. We do it all the time.” Ollie looked around at Rory, foot still on the lid. Waiting. Nobody was arguing. They were just looking down. At him.
Kai up on the roof with the ball. Ollie with one foot on the rain barrel. Two faces looking down at Rory. And nobody saying a single word.
What does Rory do?
Any of these is fine to talk about. If something feels unsafe, telling a grown-up is always allowed.
Climb up after them
The lid sank under his foot. Whump. The shed roof was warm and gritty and stuck to his hands. Then Kai’s arm came down. One knee over the edge… and Rory was standing on the big roof. His heart went bam-bam-bam, right in his ears.
You could see into FOUR backyards! A trampoline full of rainwater. A man washing his car with the radio on. Ollie kept saying “Look! Look!” and pointing at nothing much. Kai threw the split ball at the fence. It stuck in the ivy. It was awesome up there. Totally awesome.
Getting down was worse. Much worse. From up here the shed looked miles away. Kai went first and made it look like nothing. Rory sat on the edge, turned around, and lowered himself until his shoes found the shed. His knees were doing something wobbly.
They were back on the grass when Ollie’s mom came out with the washing basket. Rory’s stomach dropped straight through his shoes. “Juice in the fridge if you want it,” she said. She took a towel off the line and went back in. “Okay,” said Ollie. And that was it. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
In the car Dad asked what they’d done. Rory told him about the chips. And the car-washing man. And the ball in the ivy. He didn’t say anything about the roof. He watched the fences go by. “Sounds all right,” said Dad, and put the radio on.
Say he is not doing it
“I’m not doing that,” said Rory. The words just hung there in the backyard. Nobody had said them for him. Kai looked at him one second too long. “Suit yourself,” he said, flat as the roof, and turned the ball over in his hands.
Ollie took his foot off the lid. Then put it back. Then up he went: rain barrel, shed, elbows, gone. Kai dropped the split ball off the roof. It landed by Rory’s shoe. Thud. Didn’t even bounce.
Rory got the soccer ball out of the bush and kicked it at the shed wall. Thud. Thud. Above him, feet went bonk, bonk, hollow. Ollie laughed at something Rory couldn’t hear properly. Rory kicked the same brick, over and over, until even the sound got boring.
Ollie came down when he got thirsty. They played the shed-door game until Rory’s dad rang the bell. Ding-dong! “You missed it,” said Kai, on his way in for a drink. “I won the shed-door game, though,” said Rory. Three–one. And his hands were exactly as clean as at ten o’clock that morning.
Go on the shed, but not the roof
“I’ll go on the shed,” said Rory. “Not the roof.” Kai said nothing for a moment. Then: “That’s the boring bit.” Same voice as always. He went back to picking at the split ball with his thumbnail.
Up the rain barrel, onto the shed. The roof was warm under his hands. Ollie looked up at Kai… then climbed back down and sat on the shed too, legs dangling over the edge. From the shed you could see one fence. And the recycling bins. Ta-da.
They sat up there for ages. Ollie showed him a hole in the neighbor’s greenhouse shaped exactly like Australia. Above them Kai walked around on the big roof. Bonk, bonk. He told them twice how far you could see. Then he stopped telling them.
At the side gate Rory’s hands were gray from the shed roof. He wiped them on his jeans, the way Kai had. Two gray stripes. He looked back at the shed. Then up at the big roof. BEEP-BEEP! Dad’s horn. And off he went.