Sacrament (9 page)

'I'm cold,' Sherwood moaned for the tenth time. 'So go home,' Frannie said. 'On my own? In the dark? Don't
make me do that.'
'Maybe I should go in and look for Will,' Frannie said. 'Perhaps he's slipped, or...'
'Why don't we just leave him?'
'Because he's our friend.'
'He's not my friend.'
'Then you can wait out here,' Frannie said, looking for the breaking-place in the hedge. A moment later she felt
Sherwood's hand slip into hers.
'I don't want to stay out here,' he said softly.
In truth, she wasn't unhappy that he wanted to come with her. She was a little afraid, and therefore glad of his
company. Together they pushed through the mesh of the hedge, and hand in hand climbed the slope towards the
Courthouse. Once only did she feel a little shudder of apprehension pass through her brother, and glancing
towards him in the murk, seeing his fearful eyes looking to her for reassurance, she realized how much she
loved him.

The moth was large, and though Will held its wings tight-closed, its fat, grub-like body wriggled wildly, its legs
pedaling the air. It repulsed him, which made what he was about to do easier.
'You're not squeamish, are you?' Jacob said.
'No...' Will replied, his voice far from him, like somebody else's voice.
'You've killed insects before.'
Of course he had. He'd fried ants under a magnifying glass, he'd cracked beetles and popped spiders, he'd salted
slugs and sprayed flies. This was just a moth and a flame. They belonged together.
And with that thought, he did the deed. There was an instant of regret as the flame withered the moth's legs,
then he dropped the insect into the heat, and regret became fascination as he watched the creature consumed.

'What did I tell you?' Jacob said.
'Living and dying ...' Will murmured, '... we feed the fire ...'

At the Courtroom door, Frannie could not quite make out what was going on. She could see Will bending over
the table, studying something bright, and by the same brightness glimpsed the face of the man sitting opposite
him. But that was all.
She let go of Sherwood's hand, and put her finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He nodded, his expression
surprisingly less fearful than it had been in the darkness outside. Then she turned her gaze back in Will's
direction. As she did so she heard the man on the opposite side of the table say:
'Do you want another?'

Will didn't even look up at Steep. He was still watching the fire devour the body of the moth.
'Is it always like this?' he murmured.
'Like what?'
'First the cold and the darkness, then the fire pushing it all away, then more darkness and cold-'
'Why do you ask?' Jacob replied.
'Because I want to understand,' Will said.
And you're the only one with the answers, he might have added. That was the truth, after all. He was certain his
father didn't have answers to questions like that, nor did his mother, nor any school-teacher, nor anybody he'd
heard pontificate on television. This was secret knowledge, and he felt privile ged to be in the company of
somebody who possessed it, even if they chose not to share it with him.
'Do you want another or not?' Jacob said.
Will nodded, and took the moth from Steep's fingers. 'One day won't we just run out of things to burn?' he
wondered.
'Oh my Lord,' Mrs McGee said, appearing from the shadows. 'Listen to him.'
Will didn't look at her. He was too busy studying the cremation of the second moth.
'Yes, we will,' Jacob said softly. 'And when everything's gone a darkness will come upon the world such as we
can none of us imagine. It won't be the darkness of death, because death is not utter.'
'A game with bones,' the woman said.
'Exactly,' said Jacob. 'Death is a game with bones.'
'We know about death, Mr Steep and me.'
'Oh indeed.'

'The children I have carried and lost.' She moved behind Will as she spoke, reaching out to finger his hair
lightly. 'I look at you, Will, and I swear I would give every tooth in my head to call you mine. So wise-'

'It's getting dark,' Steep said.

'Give me another moth then,' Will demanded.

'So eager,' Mrs McGee remarked.

'Quickly,' Will said, 'before the flame goes out!'

Jacob reached into his pocket, and pulled out another moth. Will snatched it from his fingers, but in his haste he
missed catching hold of its wings, and it rose above the table.

'Damn!' said Will, and, pushing back his chair, along with Mrs McGee, he stood up and reached for the tinder.
Twice he snatched at the air, twice he came away empty-handed. Enraged now, he wheeled around, still
grabbing for the moth.

Behind him he heard Jacob say: 'Let it go. I'll give you another.'

'No!' Will said, jumping to snatch the creature out of the air. 'I want this one.'

His efforts were rewarded. On his third jump his hand closed around the moth.

'Got it!' he cried, and was about to deliver it to the flame when he heard Frannie say:

'What are you doing, Will?'

He looked up at her. She was standing at the Courtroom door, her shape murky and remote.

'Go away,' he said.

'Who's this?' Jacob said.

'Just go,' Will said, suddenly feeling a little jittery. He didn't want these two parts of his life talking to him at the
same time; it made him dizzy. 'Please,' he said, hoping she'd respond to civility. 'I don't want you here.'

The light was guttering out behind him. If he wasn't quick about it, the fire would die completely. He had to
feed it again before it went out. But he didn't want Frannie watching. Jacob would never share what he knew -
that knowledge which only the wisest of the wise understood while she was in the room.

'Go on!' he shouted. His yelling didn't move her, but it intimidated the hell out of Sherwood. He fled from
Frannie's side, off down one of the passageways that led from the Courtroom.

Frannie was furious. 'Sherwood was right!' she said to him. 'You're not our friend. We followed you in case
something had happened to you

'Rosa...' Will heard Jacob whisper behind him, '... the other boy... and glanced out the corner of his eye to
see Mrs McGee retreat into the shadows, in pursuit of Sherwood.

Will's head was spinning now. Frannie shouting, Sherwood sobbing, Jacob whispering, and worst of all, the
flame dying and the light going with it-
That had to be his priority, he decided, and turning his back on Frannie, reached out to put the moth to the
flame. But Jacob was there before him. He had put his entire hand - which he had made into a cage of fingers -
into the dying fire. Inside the cage was not one but several moths, which caught alight instantly, their panicked
wings fanning one another's flames. An uncanny brightness spilled through Jacob's fingers, and it occurred to
Will that he was not seeing anything natural here: that this was some kind of magic. The light washed up over
Jacob's face, and flattered it into something beyond beauty. He didn't look like a film star, or a man on a
magazine cover: he wasn't all gloss and teeth and dimples. He was burning brighter than the moths, as though
he could be a fire unto himself if he wanted to be. For an instant (this was all it took) Will saw himself at
Jacob's side, walking in a city street, and Jacob was shining out of every pore, and people were weeping with
gratitude that he came to light their darkness. Then it was all too much for him. His legs gave out beneath him,
and down he went, as though he'd been struck a blow.

Sherwood had intended to retreat to the vestibule, away from the Courtroom and the smell of burning there,
which turned his stomach. But in the guttering darkness he took the wrong route, and instead of being delivered
to the front of the building, he found himself lost in a labyrinth. He tried to double back, but he was too
frightened to think clearly. All he could do was stumble on, tears stinging his eyes, as it got darker and darker.

Then, a glimmer of light. It wasn't starlight - it was too warm - but he made for it anyway, and found himself
delivered into a small chamber in which somebody had been working. There was a chair and a small desk, and
on the desk a hurricane lamp, which shed its light on a selection of items. Wiping away his tears, Sherwood
went to look. There were bottles of ink, maybe a dozen of them, and some pens and brushes, and lying in the
midst of this equipment a book, about the size of one of his school-books but much thicker. The binding was
stained and the spine cracked, as though it had been carried around for years. Sherwood reached to flip it open,
but before he could do so, a soft voice said:

'What's your name?'

He looked up and there, emerging from the doorway on the other side of the chamber, was the woman from the
Courtroom. Sherwood felt a little shudder of pleasure pass through him at the sight of her. Her blouse was
unbuttoned, and the skin exposed fairly shone.

'My name's Rosa,' she said.

'I'm Sherwood.'

'You're a big boy. How old are you?'

'Almost eleven.'

'You want to come here, so I can see you better?'

Sherwood wasn't sure. There was definitely something exciting about the way she was looking at him, smiling
at him, and maybe if he got a little closer he'd see that unbuttoned place better, which was certainly a
temptation. He knew all the dirty words from school, of course, and he'd glimpsed a few wellthumbed pictures
that had been passed around. But his schoolmates kept him out of the really smutty conversations, because he
was a little daft. What would they say, he thought, if he could tell them he'd set eyes on a pair of naked bosoms,
in the flesh?

'My, but you stare,' Rosa said. Sherwood flushed. 'Oh it's quite all right,' she said. 'Boys should see as much as
they want to see. As long as they know how to appreciate it.' So saying, she reached up and unbuttoned herself a
little further. Sherwood tried to swallow, but he couldn't. He could see the swell of her breasts very easily now.
If he stepped a little closer he'd see her nipples, and by the look of welcome on her face she would not censure
him for doing so.

He stepped towards her. 'I wonder what you could get up to,' she said, 'if I let you loose?' He didn't entirely
understand what she was talking about, but he had a pretty good idea. 'Would you lick my titties for me?' she
said.

His head was throbbing now, and there was a pressure in his pants so intense he was afraid he was going to wet
himself. And as if her words weren't exciting enough, she was opening her blouse a little further, and there were
her nipples, large and pink, and she was rubbing them a little, smiling at him all the time.

'Let's see that tongue of yours,' she said.

He stuck out his tongue.

'You're going to have to work hard,' she said. 'It's a little tongue and I've got big titties. Haven't I?'

He nodded. He was three steps from her, and he could smell her body. It was a strong smell, like nothing he'd
quite breathed before, but she could have smelt like manure and it couldn't have kept him from her now. He
reached out and laid his fingers upon her breasts. She sighed. Then he put his face to her flesh and began to lick.

'Will...'

'He's fine,' said the man in the dusty black coat. 'He's just overcome with excitement. Why don't you just leave
him be and run off home?'

'I won't go without Will,' Frannie said, sounding a good deal more confident than she felt.

'He doesn't need your help,' the man replied, his tone scoured of threat. 'He's perfectly happy here.' He looked
down at Will. 'He's simply a little overwhelmed.'

Keeping her eye on the man, Frannie went down on her haunches beside Will and reaching for him, shook him
violently. He made a moan, and she chanced a quick look down at him. 'Get up,' she said. He looked very
befuddled. 'Up,' she said.

The man in black had meanwhile settled back in his seat, and was shaking the contents of his hand out onto the
table. Bright, burning fragments fluttered down. Will was already turning back in the man's direction, though he
was not yet standing upright.

'Come back here,' the man said to Will.

'Don't...' Frannie said. The flames on the table were dying down, the room giving way to darkness. She was
afraid as she was only afraid in dreams. 'Sherwood!' she yelled.

'Sherwood!'

'Don't listen,' the woman said, pressing Sherwood to her breast.

'Sherwood!'

He couldn't ignore his sister's summons; not when it had such a measure of panic in it. He pulled away from
Rosa's hot skin, the sweat running down his face.

'That's Frannie,' he said, pulling himself free of the woman. She was wearing, he saw, a strange expression - her
panting mouth open, her eyes quivering. It unnerved him.

'I have to go-' he started to say, but she was plucking at her dress, as if to show him more.

'I know what you want to see,' she said.

He retreated from her, his hand thrown out behind him for support.

'You want what's under here,' she said, pulling up her hem.

'No,' he said.

She smiled at him, and kept raising her skirt. Panicked, and confused by the stew of feelings that was bubbling
up in him, he stumbled backwards, and his weight struck the table. It tipped. The book, the inks, the pens and,
worst of all, the lamp went to the floor. There was a moment when it seemed the flame went out; but then it
bloomed with fresh gusto, and the rubbish around the desk caught fire.

Mrs McGee dropped her skirts. 'Jacob!' she shrieked. 'Oh Jesus Lord, Jacob!'

Sherwood had more reason to panic than she did, surrounded as he was by combustible materials. Even in his
dazed state, he knew he had to get out quickly, or be numbered amongst them. The easiest route was the door by
which he'd entered.

'Jacob! Get in here, will you?' Rosa was yelling, and without so much as glancing in Sherwood's direction
again, she left the chamber to find her companion.

The blaze was getting bigger by the moment, smoke and heat filling the chamber, driving Sherwood back. But
as he turned to leave, his body trembling from the excesses of the last few minutes, he caught sight of the book,
lying there on the ground.

He had no idea what it contained, but it felt like proof. He would have it when his schoolmates scoffed, to show
them and say:

'I was there. I did all I told you and more.'

Daring the flames, he ducked and snatched the book off the ground.

It was a little singed, no more. Then he was away, back through the labyrinth of passages, towards his sister's
voice.

'Sherwood!'
She and Will were at the Courtroom door.
'I don't want to go,' Will growled, and tried to pull himself free of Frannie. But she was having none of it. She
kept a bruising grip on his arm, all the while yelling her brother's name.
Jacob, meanwhile, had risen from his place at the table, alarmed by the sound of conflagration, and now by the
sight of Mrs McGee in a state of disarray, demanding that he come right now, right now.
He went with her, glancing back at Will once, and nodding such a tiny nod as if to say: go with her. This is not
the moment. Then he was gone, away with Rosa, to put out the flames.
As soon as he was out of sight, Will felt a curious calm pass over him. There was no need to struggle with
Frannie any more. He could simply go with her, out into the open air, knowing that there would be another time,
a better time, when he and Jacob would be together. 'I'm all right-' he said to Frannie. 'I don't need anyone to
hold me up.'
'I've got to find Sherwood,' she said.
'Here!' came a shout from the smoky darkness, and out he came, his face smeared with dirt and sweat.
There were no further words. They pelted down the passageway to the front door and out, past the pillars, and
down the steps, into the cold grass. Only when they were past the hedge, out onto the track, did they halt for
breath.
'Don't tell anybody what we saw in there, okay?' Will gasped.
'Why not?' Frannie wanted to know.
'Because you'll spoil everything,' Will replied.
'They're bad. Will-'
'You don't know anything about them.'
'Neither do you.'
'Yes, I do. I've met them before. They want me to go away with them.'
'Is that true?' Sherwood piped up.
'Shut up, Sherwood,' Frannie said. 'We're not going to talk about this any longer. It's stupid. They're bad and I
know they're bad.' She turned to her brother. 'Will can do whatever he likes,' she said. 'I can't stop him. But
you're not coming here again, Sherwood, and neither am L' With that she picked up her bicycle and mounted,
telling Sherwood to hurry up and do the same. Meekly, he obeyed.
'So you won't say anything?' Will pleaded.
'I haven't made up my mind yet,' Frannie replied in an infuriatingly snotty tone. 'I'll have to see.' With that she
and Sherwood pedalled off down the track.
'If you do I'll never speak to you again,' Will shouted after her, only realizing when they were out of sight that
this was a hollow threat from a man who'd just declared that he was leaving forever some day soon.