We could even return their balloon if it floats down.
But maybe the truth is too disappointing.
I hope the wind sets it free soon.
Boy!
Are you awake?
I heard the sound of thunder.
Come closer.
You’re shaking.
Don’t shake. Boy, I don’t like it either, but it will be all right.
The storms in this country are just babies crying.
Where I come from a storm will take a building and toss it across the street.
The wind is becoming stronger.
The doghouse feels so light, even with us inside. It’s rocking. Can you feel it?
I wish we’d built it from bricks.
And the roof, held on with just a few nails; a gust could peel it off. If it wants.
I hope it doesn’t.
I really hope it doesn’t.
Shhhhh…
Don’t whimper. We must be brave for each other.
Just try to sleep now.
It will blow away soon.
Boy, I can’t sleep either.
I’m scared. The noises remind me of the day everything went.
What if the wind picks up the doghouse? If it lifts us up into the sky?
No starlings up there now, no soft white clouds and warm breeze.
Now there’s danger.
There’s anger and fury and hate gathered above us.
Please stay up there, storm!
Please leave us alone!
Please.
Stop shaking, Boy.
Yes, I’m shaking too.
It’s all right to be scared, isn’t it?
It’s not all right. I don’t want to be scared.
I’m going to tell it to go away.
Will you come with me, Boy?
No?
Please!
Then I’ll go alone.
I didn’t tell it, Boy. I couldn’t. Because when I tried the wind pulled the words from my mouth and scattered them before they made a sentence. It flew into my lungs and searched for more.
It travelled through me.
I felt so boneless and light.
I was an empty suit.
I’m sorry, Boy, I was scared.
So, so scared.
I’m going to try and sleep now. I promise it will be all right tomorrow.
Everything is worse at night.
It’s morning, Boy.
Boy! Boy!
Boy!
Boy!
Boy!
You’vegone!You’vegone!
Wherehaveyougone?
Boy!
Boy! Boy, come back!
Don’t leave me here!
Boy, where were you?
Oh…
The wind has made a gap in the run. It’s snapped one of the fence posts like a toothpick.
He didn’t see you, did he? I hope you stayed in the backyard.
Boy, did you stay in the backyard?
Don’t look at me like that, I just want to keep you safe.
Dumb dog.
Why have your ears jumped up? Have you heard something?
Yes, he’s coming. Boy, he’s coming! Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.
Don’t breathe, Boy.
Stay.
Stay.
Stay.
Boy! Come back!
You came back! Good Boy! Good Boy!
He’s calling my name.
He’s telling me to go out.
I don’t want to, but if I don’t he’ll be angry. He might come in here for me. I don’t want him in here.
You stay here.
No, I said stay!
STAY!
Come here, look into my eyes.
It’s not what I want either.
I’ll keep on talking while I’m out, but in my head, not aloud. Then he can’t hear. Just you will hear me.
All right?
Good.
Stay.
Stay, Boy. Stay right here.
I’ll keep on talking.
I’ll be back soon.
I will.
I promise.
Boy, are you listening?
I’m in the car. He says we’re going to the hardware store to buy a new fence post.
He’s wound down all the windows.
‘You smell like an animal.’
Can you hear him, Boy? He’s talking to me, but his voice sounds creaky, like he hasn’t used it in a while.
He’s silent now but I can see his leg shaking and hear him gasp with pain when he pushes his foot on the pedals.
The leather seat is comfortable. I hope there’s bad traffic so it takes longer.
It’s good to be out.
But I want you here too, your head out of the window and your ears flying in the breeze.
Boy, everything seems different somehow – not just the storm damage, the trees split and torn, and the tiles lifted and thrown – it all seems brighter and louder, more real.
It’s great to see all the cars and trucks on the road. If Melanie were here she would be pointing out different models, and then he might have joined in, telling me about the cars he had when he was at college, how fast or expensive one was, or how cool another.
He’s flicked the blinker and we’re turning off into a huge parking lot.
Now he’s parked over the two spaces closest to the entrance and he’s just sitting here next to me, staring through the windshield.
‘These are the rules, JC.’
I’d better listen carefully, Boy.
‘Number one: Don’t talk to anyone. But don’t look weird either. Nod or shake your head if anyone asks you a question. But no talking, geddit? No talking.’
‘No talking.’
‘Number two: Don’t try to catch anyone’s eye. In fact, don’t look at anyone’s face then it can’t happen. Keep looking down at your shoes.’
‘Shoes.’ I know I sound dumb, Boy. But I want him to know I’ve heard.
‘Number three: Stay next to me at all times. This close, exactly like we are now.’
‘Like now.’
Did you hear that, Boy? He just punched the steering wheel and he hit the horn.
‘WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!’
He’s breathing deeply and shaking his head.
‘I should just leave you here, you know? Not waste my time and money trying to make things nice for you and the dog.’
‘I’m sorry. I won’t talk.’
‘Number five.’
Number four, I want to tell him it’s number four next, not number five, but his bloodshot eyes are still wide and popping like a lizard’s so I’ll keep quiet.
‘Number five: If you tell anyone anything you’ll find yourself on the first plane back to that hellhole you came from, and Melanie will spend the rest of her life in prison for people-smuggling. Understand?’
I’m nodding so fast my neck hurts. I want to ask him if she’s called again. I want to ask why she’s taking so long. I want to ask when she’s coming home.
But I can’t talk.
‘Good. Good. Let’s go.’
He’s unlocked the doors, and I’m climbing out.
The fumes from the road are filling my lungs. I miss the sweet smell of you and the plants in the backyard.
‘C’mon.’
We’re inside.
This place is as big as a soccer field. It smells of wood and chemicals.
There’s music playing and I’m the only person listening.
I miss music.
He’s stopped. He says that I should walk in front. At least I think that’s what he said, but I’m not sure. Sometimes when he talks in an angry way it’s too fast and then my mind goes empty and I can’t listen to what he’s saying.
I don’t want to ask him, Boy, but I have to.
‘But what about number three? How can I be in front and by your side at the same time?’
He shoved me.
Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt, but now so
meone is here, watching us. It’s a man wearing green overalls. He’s black like me and Melanie, and his hair is in a tall afro. He has a name badge. He must work here. I think he saw him push me. What if the man is a Bleeding Heart and he says something? What if he tries to talk to me and I have to answer?
It’s all right. The man is smiling at him. He’s jerked his head toward me and rolled his eyes.
‘Teenagers, eh? Yup, have two of my own, heh heh.’
‘Yeah, think they know everything, heh heh.’
They’re both laughing and their mouths are in a kind of smile, but anyone who wanted to could see they’re lying.
‘Help you with something?’ the man’s saying now.
‘Nope, I can find it,’ he says. The smiles are gone now.
We’re walking to the back of the store where the wood is stacked.
He’s putting on a pair of thick leather gloves.
‘Help me get this.’
He’s tugging at a huge post. I’m crouching down and lifting it from below. It’s heavy.
‘Thanks, JC.’
He said thanks.
Thanks.
Thanks, JC.
Did you hear? Did you, Boy? He’s forgotten that he hates me.
Could you hear me groaning and grunting? We’ve lifted the post from the rack now. It’s heavy and awkward, and splinters are burrowing into my palms, but he’s talking to me so nicely. Asking me to move the wood right or left, not telling me, and saying I’m doing a good job.
‘Good job, JC.’
Good job.
I really think he has forgotten, and maybe, just maybe he’ll let us both out now. He’ll think I deserve it, Boy.
‘Good.’
Good.
He said I’m good.
I hope you heard that one.
Now we’re at the front of the store waiting to pay.
His face is shining with sweat, and he’s jingling the change in his pocket like a bell, as if he’s calling someone.
‘Did you find everything you needed today, sir?’
That’s the checkout girl. She’s white, so pale her skin is pearly under the lights, and her hair is dyed pink on the ends.
He’s nodding, and I’ve put my head down.
Shoes, shoes, stare at your shoes.
‘What are you building?’
‘Jus’ repairin’ storm damage.’
‘It sure was a bad one. That’ll be ten dollars and forty cents.’
‘And expensive.’ He’s smiling at her. A wolf’s smile.
He must be feeling better.
Oh, no.
He’s dropped some coins on to the floor.
‘Shoot. Pick them up, JC.’
I’ve found a few dollars, Boy, but there are more, and I’m crawling around searching. If I don’t find all the money he’ll be angry.
There’s the last one. A quarter, right under the cashier’s chair. I’ll just reach out and –
‘JC? JC!’
He’s gone!
His legs just disappeared. And can you hear him? He’s shouting and shouting in that high voice.
‘JC! Where the hell are you?’
‘Sir! Sir! Where are you going? Don’t you want your purchases?’
I should shout out, Boy. I should tell him I’m here.
But if I do
If I do
But if I don’t
If I don’t
Why doesn’t she tell him? He’s going crazy now. He’s running toward the door.
Is he going to leave me here?
Leave me here alone?
What would I do?
All alone?
Just me?
‘I’m here!’ I shouted it, Boy. I had to or he wouldn’t have heard.
He’ll understand.
‘Sir, your boy’s over here!’
She’s smiling at me with her bright pink lips now. ‘You have such a cute accent. Where are you from?’
‘Thank you. I…’ I’ve done it again. I spoke. Again.
He’s running back, and the look on his face.
I think he wants to kill me. But not here with everyone watching.
He’s breathing deeply.
‘Pick this up.
Son.’
The change that I found on the floor is still in my hand. It’s pressing the splinters even deeper into my palms. But I’m too scared to tell him.
We’re back in the car. I’ve dropped the coins into the footwell.
I’m afraid.
He’s driving back crazy fast. He doesn’t look at me, but his eyes keep flicking to the rearview mirror as if someone’s chasing us.
What would I do if the police pulled us over and asked me questions? I couldn’t stay silent.
And then what?
I’m going to close my eyes until we’re back.
We’re just outside. We can hear you howling from the street.
‘Go and shut that dog up.’
I’m coming, Boy!
‘No. On second thought we gotta get on with this. I need you to help me with the post. You can’t keep a dog in a broken run. It’s not right.’
We’re carrying the wood to the backyard. The splinters in my hands hurt, but I don’t mind because I’ll see you again soon.
Please stop yelping. Your noise is making him angry.
Please, Boy. I’m just out here, not far from you. I know you’d like to join in, but we’re busy. I’m helping him to lever out the broken stump. It’s so heavy with the cement dried into a cone, like a big grey tooth with one root.
Boy, SHUT UP!
SHUT UP!
SHUT UP!
SHUT UP!
Please SHUT UP!
Thank you.
I’ll keep talking to you in my head as long as you’re quiet.
So, we’re both doing it now, pushing the post back and forth. Can you hear us grunting and grumbling, him in his language and me in mine?
The sun’s so hot.
He keeps stumbling and swearing, using words he never used around Melanie, and I’m pushing and pulling, and the splinters are burrowing deeper into my palms.
I wish that I could be strong like the wind when it snapped all those trees.
I wish I could just clench my jaw and pull hard and –
‘Good job!’
Did you hear what he said? We did it, Boy! And he nearly smiled, just like he would have done before Melanie went.
Do you think maybe the old him is still in there somewhere?
He can’t help anymore because his leg is hurting too much, so I’ve mixed the cement and I’m planting the new pole like it’s a tree with no branches.
I’m doing a good job so it won’t come out again.
I can’t wait for you to see it, Boy. The panels are back in place, but the cement’s not set properly, so we have to be careful. No leaning, and no rubbing against it to scratch your flea bites.
I’ll be in there with you soon. Or maybe he’ll let you out and we can both go into the house.
‘You thirsty?’
Did you hear that? He’s going to fetch me a drink. A soda maybe. Even a glass of water would be nice.
Hey, sleepy, it’s me! I’m back, move up.
I didn’t have a soda. But he turned the hose on and let me drink from the end. The water was cold and clean and I drank until I thought I’d be sick if I took another drop.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t save any for you.
I should have asked him to fill our bowl. I’m so dumb.
And I’m sorry he locked you in here all day.
Your throat must be sore after all that barking.
That’s better, a nice hug. You’re a great hugger, Boy, but your tongue is too dry for licking.
See how we fixed the fence though!
Now you can’t escape and make him angry.
It looks like new again.
Nice and strong and safe. Nothing will break that post.
Maybe an earthquake could push
it out, but nothing less.
I don’t think any food is coming today, Boy.
The curtains are shut. He must still be sick.
He should be resting his leg really, not fixing dog runs for people like us.
Should I tell you some more of my story? It might make you feel fuller.
Words can be as distracting as soup.
You remember that I was stuck in the hospital?
I became so used to it that I never thought about leaving.
You can become used to anything.
And then one day a brilliant, terrible thing happened.
You won’t believe me, but the earth exploded.
KABOOM!
The guard dog tied up outside had been pacing and barking all afternoon. I watched him through the window. He usually slept a lot, but that day he pulled at his rope and scratched at his collar.
We were in bed, as usual. It was evening. We had eaten, the lights were low and most of the nurses had gone home for the day.
Moments before it happened, I felt a rumble, as if a truck were driving straight through the building, and I sat up.
Then my bed slid sideways from under me and the room swung
like
a
hammock.
Shelves
emptied
down
onto
us.
Carts ran across the room by themselves.
The building sighed
and groaned.
And the windows
folded inwards.
Then the walls folded too,
splitting
along
the line
of bricks,
And finally, with a whisper,
the ceiling fell.
I thought that the world had ended.
Suddenly there was nothing.
It was dark and silent except for a roar and a whine like an airplane taking off.
I couldn’t move.
Then I felt the brick dust in my mouth and shapes digging into me, and I remembered what had happened.
I knew where I was.
I was trapped under a wall.
The strange thing was the silence. No one screamed.
No one.
Not even me.
You need air to scream.
Goodnight, Boy Page 5
