The hammer rang once. A spark jumped off the anvil and did not go out. It waited. They followed.

It rolled through the gate of Brightfield School on an ordinary Tuesday. Nothing big happened. Only one small thing, in lunchtime football.

The goal net had been mended with green string, and a tiny hammer was tied to one knot.

This is how Danya told it.

"Beto handled it. The ball came across and he pushed it in with his arm. I saw it. It shouldn't count. He cheated. And you know me, I'm always the fair one."

Danya told it to Manywhy after lunch. He and Beto had not spoken since.

"That's one thread," said Manywhy. "Are there more?"

"No," said Danya. "I saw it."

"Never stop at one reason," said Manywhy. "Who else was playing? Let's hear it from everyone."

How much did it matter, really? Danya put the dial at: totally, definitely.

This is how Beto told it.

"The ball came across really fast and jumped up. It hit my arm. I wasn't even looking at it. Then it went in. I didn't mean it. And Danya shouted 'cheat' in front of everyone."

Beto put the dial at: a lot. Being called a cheat was the worst part.

This is how Lan told it. She had been in goal, between two jumpers.

"I saw the ball go in. It went past my left hand. But I didn't see what it hit on the way. There were too many legs."

Lan put the dial at: not much. She just wanted to keep playing.

Hap had spiky black hair and an orange t-shirt. He had been playing on Danya's team.

"Sometimes things just happen," said Hap. "You know the bump round the drain, by the goal? The ball hit that. It jumped straight up. Right at Beto's arm."

"Bad timing, that's all," said Hap. "Nobody planned that."

A girl with curly blond hair, round tortoiseshell glasses and a maroon scarf was sitting on the bench with an old cloth book. Her name was Hedda.

"How sure are you?" asked Hedda. "Each of you."

"Totally," said Danya.

"Who saw it clearly?" asked Hedda. "Where were you standing?"

Danya opened his mouth. Then he thought about it. He had been by the halfway line. Ten steps away. Two players had been in front of him.

"Behind two people," he said. "About ten steps away."

"Because is only half a sentence," said Hedda. "The other half is: how do you know?"

Danya was quiet. "Probably," he said at last. "I'm probably right. Not definitely."

"Probably is allowed," said Hedda. "Definitely needs more."

Rheo held out the paper dial. "Not a switch. A dial. How sure, really?"

Danya held it. A minute ago it had been at definitely cheated. All the way up.

He thought about the bump by the drain. The two players in front of him. Beto not even looking.

He turned the arrow down. Past a lot. To the middle, and then a little lower.

"Not sure," said Danya. "It hit the bump. And I was behind two people."

At afternoon break, the duty teacher was on the playground. Danya went over to Beto.

"Sorry I said cheat," said Danya. "I wasn't sure. I just felt sure."

Beto nodded. "It did hit my arm. I'm not sure if it counted either."

They made their own rule. Lan drew a chalk circle by the drain. If nobody is sure, take the kick again from there.

They took it again. Beto scored. Everybody saw it.

Back on the Green

The spark dimmed to a warm dot and settled back on the anvil. The Green was just the Green again.

At home, Danya's dad said the shop shut at six, definitely.

"How sure?" asked Danya. They checked. It shut at half past five.