Who else but I?
In the courtyard of a fivestorey council block on the outskirts of Manchester, everyone knew Grandma Agnes Whitaker. She was short and wiry, her silver hair tied up in a tight bun, and she got about on a sturdy walking stick, but she moved so briskly that the local lads never quite caught up with her.
Agnes had lived in that building since it was first erected, remembered every tenant by name, and the residents respected hernot just because of her age, but for her sharp tongue and iron will. Whenever a neighbour ran into trouble, Gran Aggie (as the kids called her) was the first to lend a hand, and if anyone broke the peace she was the first to set them straight.
One day a new family moved ina young couple with a teenage son. The boy, called Tommy, quickly fell in with a gang of mischiefmakers, and soon the courtyard was in chaos: smashed light bulbs in the stairwell, crude graffiti on the brick walls, and one afternoon they even shattered a basement window where old Mrs. Bess, the resident catlover, was feeding her rescued kittens.
Tommy wasnt just a troublemaker; he was a troublemaker with a twisted imagination. One minute hed stretch fishing line between the trees to trip cyclists, the next hed slip surprises from neighbours dogs into the sandpit. The parents sighed, just a phase, but Gran Aggie didnt buy it.
Hey, Tommy! she called one morning as he tried to tie a firecracker to a bench. Come over here.
What do you want? the teenager grunted, but he walked over.
Are you a clever lad?
Um Tommy scowled.
Im watching you, you daft bugger. Smart kids dont act like that.
Leave me be!
I wont. If I dont tell you the truth, who will?
Tommy made a face but put the firecracker away.
The next day Gran Aggie caught him in the act againspraying a profane word on the garage wall with a aerosol can.
Oh dear, she said, a budding artist, I see.
What? Isnt it brilliant? Tommy sneered.
Brilliant, she agreed, except the garage owner, Mr Colin, will be back from work any minute. And if he catches you
I dont care!
Fine, she sighed. Just know this: if Mr Colin doesnt give you a proper tellingoff, I will.
Tommy snorted, but he tossed the paint can aside.
That evening Mr Colin, redfaced with anger, stormed round the courtyard, belt in hand.
Who did this? he roared.
Tommy hid behind a pillar, but Gran Aggie was already there.
So, artist, are you going to run or own up?
Hell kill me! he shouted.
And you thought a little spraypaint had no consequences?
In the end Tommy spent the evening scrubbing the garage clean under Mr Colins stern watch and Gran Aggies keen eye.
See? Now the garages spotless and youre still breathing, she said when the job was done. It could have been worse.
Go on then Tommy muttered, his swagger gone.
Time passed. Tommy still caused mischief, but not with the same reckless abandon. One afternoon Gran Aggie spotted him chasing the younger children across the yard.
Again, eh? she asked sharply.
Theyre the ones starting it!
Youre older now. You should be wiser.
What am I supposed to do with them?
Dont chase themteach them something.
What?
Gran Aggie thought a moment. Show them how to play football, or maybe a round of British Bulldog.
Theyre tiny!
Give it a go.
Reluctantly Tommy fetched a ball from his house. Half an hour later the courtyard was filled with laughter as he taught the kids to take penalties.
From then on Tommy changed. He wasnt a saint, but he was no longer the little devil everyone tried to avoid. When Gran Aggie broke her arm, it was Tommy who hauled her shopping bags from the corner shop.
Feeling better, Tommy? she teased.
Just so you dont have to nag me, he grumbled.
Everyone in the block knewGran Aggie could be stern, but she was fair, and thats why people listened to her.
Because if it wasnt her, who would?
Summer rolled on. Tommy stopped hassling the youngsters; now they followed him around, calling him the elder. He showed them how to hammer nails, fix bicycles, and even set up a secret club in the courtyard with a password and the motto: Real men dont bullythey protect the weak!
One day, while sitting on a bench, Gran Aggie watched Tommy break up a fight between two boys.
Tommy, you weakling! one shouted. Give him a punch!
No need for fists, Tommy said firmly, stepping between them. Lets settle this properly.
Gran Aggie smiled.
So, Tommy, she called after the dust settled, youre practically a hero now, arent you?
Come off it, Gran, he blushed, theyre just daft kids.
Youre grown up now.
Tommy paused, thoughtful.
Gran, why did you bother with me? I was a real troublemaker.
Because I saw the man inside you.
And no one else?
Others found it easier to shout at me. I I was just like you once, you know.
Tommy widened his eyes.
Really?
Indeed. I even got hauled off to the police once.
And then?
An old chap told me, Youre clever, love. Why waste it on nonsense? That stuck with me.
Tommy laughed.
So now I have to think too?
You already are. I can see it.
He lowered his gaze.
Gran, what if I mess up again?
You wont mess up. But if you do, fix it.
From that day on, Tommy became the goto bloke in the courtyard. He helped the elders, repaired the swing set, and even convinced his mates not to litter. When Gran Aggie fell ill again, he visited daily with medicines and the latest gossip.
Youve spoiled me, Tommy, she would grouse, though her eyes twinkled.
Im just raising you right, hed reply.
One summer a new lad moved ina little devil just like Tommy had been a few years back.
Hey, lad! Tommy called. Come over here
Gran Aggie, perched on her bench, smiled softly.
Who else but I?
