The Bombs That Brought Us Together (14 page)

‘We keep head down, like always.’

‘Well, nobody knows about the shed, so maybe this would be a good place to keep the head down. It’s safe anyway.’

The words had barely left my mouth …

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Went the shed door.

After the initial fright we froze.

The adrenalin arrived tsunami style.

Everything jingled-jangled inside our bodies.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The wooden door almost flew off its hinges. But The Big Man’s lock held firm. Just.

‘Open up,’ the voice said.

‘Who is it?’ I said.

‘Open up or I’ll break the thing down.’

‘What you want?’ Pav said.

‘You’ve got three seconds,’ the voice cried.

I was afraid that Mum, Dad or the Dudas would hear the commotion and investigate.

‘One!’

‘We do nothing,’ Pav shouted.

‘Two!’

‘Open door,’ Pav whispered.

‘You open it,’ I whispered back.

‘Three!’ the voice howled. At least the voice spoke the lingo, which meant that, whoever it was, it wasn’t an Old Country patrol hunting down dissidents and refugees. ‘I’m warning you two, I’ll boot this thing down.’

‘NO! DON’T!’ I said. ‘Don’t break down the door, mister. I’ll open it.’

‘Move it then,’ he said.

As soon as the door opened I recognised him straight away. It was none other than our
good friend
Muscles, standing upright with his biceps flexed, head to toe in black clothes – bouncer clobber.

‘I don’t have time for this crap, especially from you two clowns. You’d better start toeing the line here.’

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘We were just shifting some furniture around and then the knocks gave us a fright, that’s all.’

‘I’ll give you more than a fright,’ Muscles said.

‘Want to come in?’ I stepped aside so he could enter.

When he came into our shed it didn’t feel as big and spacious any longer. Pav sat in one of the chairs, almost hugging it for special protection.

‘So this is the hole you two are busy rearranging?’ He looked around our shed, shaking his head. ‘What’s happened to the youth these days?’ he said under his breath.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ I asked him.

He didn’t give me a reply. ‘It beggars belief to think what you two lesbians get up to in here day and night.’

I could see Pav shifting in his chair, ready to pounce and correct Muscles. Fortunately, without Muscles noticing, I managed to give him a little shake of the head, telling him to stay calm.

‘Nothing much,’ I said.

‘Nothing much, eh?’ Muscles said.

‘We do no things,’ Pav said.

Muscles stood hovering over him.

‘You’d be lucky to get a bird in an aviary, Old Country, so if I were you, I’d take what I can get, son.’

Pav gave him his death stare.

Muscles looked away first.

Victory to Pav.

After losing the contest, Muscles laughed, then flopped himself down on one of the other chairs. He pulled a small
rucksack from behind his shoulder and placed it between his feet.

‘This isn’t a social call,’ he said.

‘Aw, that’s a pity,’ I said.

‘Watch it, Law,’ he said, pointing to his mouth. ‘This is going to get you into some deep shit one of these days if you’re not careful.’

I didn’t reply. Pav snorted.

‘That goes for you as well, Old Country,’ he said to Pav.

‘So why are you here?’ I asked.

‘Yes, why here?’ Pav said.

‘The Big Man wanted to give you a little something.’

‘The Big Man?’ I said.

‘What Big Man wanting?’ Pav said.

‘What he
wants
, Old Country. What he
wants
. Jesus, you’ll have to learn our lingo properly, son, if you want to get by in this town.’

‘What does he want to give us?’ I asked.

‘A few presents.’ He looked around the shed. ‘Let’s call it a house-warming gift.’

He dug deep into the bag, pulled out two Moleskine notepads and handed them to us along with a pen each – one of those pens that had a choice of four different colours. Each colour huddled together in the same pen. Genius. I’d always wanted a Moleskine notepad. I tried to hide my smile. Pav didn’t need to try.

‘He knows you’re going back to school tomorrow. He just wanted to give you a little starter pack.’

He rummaged again. Deeper. When his hand came out it was clutching a small brown paper bag.

‘This one is for you, Law.’

‘What is it?’ I said.

‘Open it and see.’

I made to unwrap the paper.

‘NO! DON’T OPEN,’ Pav shouted. He was on his feet with his hands out towards me.

Everyone stopped.

‘Could be boob prize, Charlie,’ Pav said.

‘A what?’ I said.

‘A what?’ Muscles said.

‘Like bomb of nail,’ Pav said.

‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Old Country. Do you think I’d bring a nail bomb in here and sit watching while he opens it in my presence?’

Muscles had a point.

Pav saw his point.

‘What sort of tripe goes through that Old Country brain of yours?’ Muscles pointed at Pav’s head. There was a tense moment as he waited for his answer. ‘Do you think I’m a numpty, son? Eh?’

‘Erm … No … I no think this,’ Pav said before sitting back down again.

‘Open it.’ Muscles said. ‘Go on.’

I raised the bag up to my eyes in order to peek inside.

‘BOOM!’ Muscles shouted, then laughed as if he’d just heard the funniest joke ever. Or seen someone walk into a glass door. ‘Only kidding. Go,’ he said to me.

I opened the brown bag.

APPLES.

THREE APPLES.

THREE BIG APPLES.

THREE BIG, JUICY APPLES.

Apples like the ones I’d blagged, except more edible. An apple for each of us. My hand rummaged further. Hidden underneath the apples were two, TWO, inhaler medicines for Mum. Packaged up with the fruit, subtle.

‘Want one?’ I said, holding out an apple towards Muscles.

‘Don’t mind if I do, Law. Don’t mind if I do.’

I tossed it to him.

‘Pav?’

Pav almost took my arm off he was so quick to grab the apple off me.

We all bit into our apples together. Munched and crunched in silence. I could feel the apple drop into my empty stomach. Joy of joys. Muscles’ mouth was so mammoth that he ate his apple in about three bites. Core and everything.

‘You’ll be hearing from The Big Man soon,’ Muscles said as he stood up to leave.

Pav threw me the eyes.

‘Can I see him tomorrow?’ I said.

‘You can’t just come round, Law. It doesn’t work like that.’

‘I just want to thank him,’ I said.

‘I’ll thank him for you,’ Muscles said.

‘No, I’d rather thank him myself. Tomorrow’s good because I can come to his block after school.’

‘He might not be available, Law.’

‘I’ll take my chances,’ I said.

‘He take chance,’ Pav said.

‘Right, I’ll tell him, but he might not be happy and, like I said, he might not be available.’

‘That’s fine with me.’

Muscles stared at us in silence. He spat out a couple of apple pips as if he were firing bullets at us.

Notepads, eh?

Pens, eh?

Apples, eh?

Each
gift
cocked and loaded.

It was utterly terrifying. I didn’t wait until after school – I went that same night, without Pav. I wasn’t able to knock on the front door; I didn’t even get that far. Some guy whom I’d never laid eyes on was standing at the top of the landing – waiting for me? I don’t know – and frogmarched me right back down the stairs. My feet barely touched the steps. Outside he put a firm hand on the back of my dome and bundled me into the rear of a car, just as they do with criminals leaving court after being accused of some horrendous crime. Inside the car sat another man whom I hadn’t seen before either. He grinned. I smiled back.

‘All right, kiddo?’ he said.

But before I had time to say,
Eh, not really, mister
, he’d chucked some sort of blanket or hood over my head and
forced me down on the seat. I struggled to breathe. I didn’t want to die.
This
wasn’t my time. I wasn’t ready yet. I wasn’t prepared. I’d too much to do before all that death palaver hit me.

I survived that car journey by taking tiny short breaths: in through the nose and out slowly through the mouth.

I didn’t speak.

I didn’t ask my usual questions.

I didn’t annoy anyone.

I concentrated on breathing.

The driver and blanket man didn’t speak either.

The car didn’t speed or swerve or roar its engine.

A tear ran from my left eye over the bridge of my nose and down on to my right cheek. I realised I had no idea who these people were or where they were taking me. I had no Pavel Duda by my side to make me feel brave.

When the car came to a halt I didn’t try to get up. The hand on my head prevented this anyway. Not a word was muttered.
Stay calm, Charlie, stay calm, son.
The driver got out. I heard his feet crunching through the gravel as he walked around to my side. The blanket man lifted his hand from my head.

‘Time to go, kiddo,’ he said.

The driver opened the door and the blanket man shoved me out. The air rushing up through the blanket/hood was like having the kiss of life. How good is air? I thought he
was going to whip the thing off my head but he didn’t. I took in huge man-size gulps of air.

The ground wasn’t smooth. Because the driver had his hand on my head I was staring at my feet, which kicked away little stones as they walked. My shoes were getting dirty. Mum would go spare. If dirt got on my trousers it would be enough for a quick skelp on the kisser.

Mum and Dad would be deranged with worry if I didn’t come home. Since the Old Country troops stormed into Little Town they wanted to know my every move. I knew Mum was suspicious about the sudden appearance of the inhalers I’d given her that evening – she knew no shop in Little Town could supply these. She didn’t ask where I’d got them, a sure sign that she knew she wouldn’t like the answer. I suppose her ability to breathe properly was more important. I could say I’d been out doing some pre-school studying because I wanted to hit the ground running, or something. But out all night? No chance could I blag that one.

One of the heavies opened a heavy metal door. It made that chinking noise when pulled, dragging metal along the ground. Inside, the place smelt of decay and unemployment, the pong that suggested hard work used to happen a while back. We walked about twenty steps. Stopped. Another door opened; this time it sounded like a shopping trolley being yanked along the concrete. I was pushed in. Another room? The shopping trolley door rattled closed.

‘Right, time to breathe,’ the driver said, and pulled the blanket/hood from my head. Everything was black. Talk about relief! Talk about uncontrollable terror! Everything was pitch-black. We were standing in a rickety old lift. Going down. Super fast. Going down below the ground. To the depths of Hell? My eyes had difficulties adjusting. Strangely, I was calm.

‘Where are we?’ I asked.

‘No questions, son,’ the driver said.

‘But …’

The man put his finger to his mouth.

The lift hit the ground with a thud. My knees felt the impact. The man pulled the trolley door open.

‘Right you are, kiddo,’ he said.

‘Do I get out?’ I said.

‘This is your stop.’ He gave me a coaxing shove out. ‘Cheerio, for now,’ he said, pulling the lift door shut. I watched him rising to the daylight. My head followed him ascending. No wave.

Alone now. All calmness gone. My eyes were beginning to penetrate through the dark. I stood still. Not moving forward. Not shifting left or right. Glued rigid with dread and apprehension. When I saw movement in the distance I swear my stomach could have made cheese. The movement came into view. More than one figure.

‘Aw, if it’s none other than Charlie Law.’ The voice echoed through the space.

I screwed up my eyes.

‘Big Man?’ I said. ‘Is that you?’

The Big Man was standing with his hands behind his back, flanked by Muscles and some other dude I didn’t recognise. At least it wasn’t the Old Country troops. Who’d have thought I’d be relieved to lay eyes on The Big Man?

‘You wanted to see me, Law?’ The Big Man said.

‘Erm … yes. But … how did … ?’ I said.

‘I’ve told you before, Law. This is my town; everything that goes on in my town The Big Man knows about. You only have to
think
something and I know.’ He twiddled his left hand’s fingers in front of his face as if he were a magician. ‘Where is that Old Country friend of yours?’

‘Home, I think.’

‘We’ll get to him soon enough.’

WHAT DID THAT MEAN?

Don’t ask.

‘Erm, right,’ I said.

‘I’m glad you came, Law.’

‘Thanks for the inhaler medicine,’ I offered.

‘No problem; there’s more where that came from if you play your cards right.’

That’s what I intended to do.

‘Thanks.’

‘You know what this place used to be, Law?’

‘Not really, no.’ If this had been a school expedition or a
history lesson I’d have been interested as hell, but now wasn’t the time for interest. My breathing was heavy.

‘This used to be an old coal mine.’

‘Is that right?’ I said, trying to inject enthusiasm into my voice in case this was The Big Man’s special place. I didn’t want to offend him.

‘My dad worked here.’

‘Really?’

‘And his dad before him.’

‘Your grandad?’ I said.

‘Nothing gets past you, Law. Eh?’ The Big Man said this to the heavies next to him. They chuckled, only because they were afraid to do anything other than chuckle.

‘You know why I didn’t work down here, Law?’

How the bejesus would I know that?

Because they shut the thing down?

Because you got more dosh from street hustling?

Because it seemed too much like hard work for you?

Because it was a shitty job?

Because Rascal work pays better?