by Rodney Hall
Mike teaches us how to whistle but nothing comes out except air and i try and try and Dianas trying too and she goes red in the face, and i hate this now and its got to be because hes showing us wrong so i give up, but right at the end of my breath a little hint of a whistle happens, super! and now i know i can do it so im going to practise every single day of my life till i can whistle Clementine and tunes like that,
‘good try’ says Mike,
and he gives a wolf-whistle,
‘thats what you want to be able to do’ he tells me ‘so you can do it at girls’
‘okay’ i say,
and i will,
‘but what about me?’ says Di,
he thinks about it,
‘girls dont do wolf-whistles’ he says,
and i ask ‘are we in the gang now?’
and even the fat kid sneers at me, but weve started hanging round with them,
‘snakes are weird’ the fat boy says ‘and your brothers weird’
because theyve come to the woods with us to hunt for pet snakes and Michaels already caught a grass snake that gives off an awful stink and we all stand watching it coil around his fist,
‘Uuurgghh!’ the fat boy says,
and the others start staggering and making sick noises, but Mike doesnt care because he knows what hes doing and he flicks the snake into the bag we brought,
‘Arthur died’ i explain ‘when i was little’
‘lets get going’ says one kid,
and we set off walking across some flat rocks while the bag wriggles,
‘anyhow’ says the big boy with a split lip ‘what i was sayin about tarts—’
‘yes’ says another ‘and out on the common is where you go to pick up the leavings’
‘i know about tarts’ i tell them ‘theyre ladies who go into telephone booths’
‘first thing of a morning’ one boy tells me ‘when you go for a walk—’
‘—and if you look’ the fat one says,
‘—then you find the puffballs of white stuff the soldiers leave behind’
‘but how do you mean puffballs?’ i ask,
and he says ‘well i spose theyre more like little balloons, you know?’ and yes, i do know because i get a picture of balloons as small as mushrooms filled with white powder,
‘so why do the soldiers leave them behind?’ Mike asks,
and the kids in the gang start falling about all stupid and collapsing against each other and yelling and happy and making us feel stupid,
because Mums feeling fine she digs out an old hat with feathers on it and walks around town with the feathers fluttering, so thats how we all feel and we hold hands and this is new and we stop to look into every single shop window there ever was and we play i spy with my little eye and we even play double i spy and this is hilarious, and mine at the green grocers is ‘terrible turnip’ and Di at the hobby shop gets ‘dopey dominoes’, we all laugh and people stare and we laugh louder and we i spy at Woolworths Penny Stores and we i spy at Lewises frock shop and Mum gives us ‘b’ at the photographers but we have to give in because we cant get it and its ‘bumptious bride’ and i think bumptious is the funniest thing i ever heard and its my word now and Mike gets ‘crazy corsets’ at the ladies underwear shop and Mum laughs so much she has to find a handkerchief to save her make-up,
and out of town we pass rows of houses with little front gardens and Mum tells us the names of the flowers so we can learn and people smile at us because we smile at them, and they can see our picnic basket but they dont know whats in it or that we get sent jam and things from Australia and they dont know im going to sail right around the world so i can sit by a camp fire and ride a horse,
‘we shall borrow some rugs from Gran to spread on her lawn’ Mum says,
so thats the plan,
and going down Grans hill i get to skid in the gravel because its so steep,
‘think of your shoes!’ Mum says,
and i know its wrong,
‘but i cant stop’ i say,
and the hedges are jumping around and stones go flying and the stream glitters down there and the woods beyond Grans place zoom closer and the high stone wall around her garden too,
‘Rod!’ Mike warns me ‘those shoes of yours are new!’
but thats whats so good and YOW! i skid in among some nettles at the side of the track,
‘serve you right’ he says,
but i dont want him to know how much it stings so i get busy rubbing my legs with the dock leaves ive found,
Mike starts picking up stones and chucking them over the hedge,
‘theres Joan’ Di shouts,
and Joan is standing at the open door and she comes down into the garden and she seems to be in a rush and now shes running along the drive towards us,
‘maybe we cant have the picnic after all’ Mike says,
and she rushes up to Mum and her face is all red and streaky and she throws her arms around her,
‘what is it dear?’ Mum says ‘what can it be?’
and Joan cant get her breath,
‘m-my scottie is gone!’ she blubbers,
‘he ran away?’ Mum asks
‘i was out and—’ Joan blubbers,
‘—and when i got home’ Joan blubbers,
‘he was—’ Joan tries again,
and Gran has come to stand in the doorway up ahead and though shes still a long way off i can already see shes looking grim,
‘i told her’ Gran calls out for us to hear and she stands there ‘so the vet was sent for’
and her voice sounds tiny and terrible,
but what happened? i kind of know though i dont understand and i begin wailing for the puppy and Di joins in,
Mum straightens her hat and leads the march up to the house,
‘but what got into you?’ Mum snaps, and shes snapping at her mother just like she snaps at us when weve been naughty, and while Gran is usually so soft and plump shes not like that now,
‘and i shant have you answer back, Doris’ Gran says ‘i shall not put up with it’
‘but how could you?’ Mum says,
and i show Gran my tears so she will understand but her round face is all set and hard,
‘such a dear little dog’ Joan wails,
‘a dear little dog!’ Gran turns indoors ‘i could tell you a thing or two! the stinking thing!’ and she bangs the door shut behind her,
leaving us outside on the drive holding our picnic basket,
Mrs Harris at the Railway Hotel does her washing out in the yard and we lend a hand because we like her and because she talks about all sorts of things and i watch her in all the heat and steam dipping a pole into the big copper and she drags out a sheet thats so long and wet and heavy its never going to end and she grumbles about what a terrible lot of trouble she has to put up with from the soldiers staying there,
‘and i dont have a choice because theyre billeted’ she says,
‘we had Guy billeted on us’ i tell her ‘but Mum got rid of him’
‘so i hear’ Mrs Harris laughs,
and Di and i get hold of the hot sheet and begin twisting it end-to-end till water splashes round our feet with bits of suds and big bubbles that turn different colours in the light,
‘good girl’ Mrs Harris says to Diana and just because shes her favourite she says ‘girls are better at wringing than boys’
so i drop my end of the sheet in the dirt,
my feet are cold and i cant do anything or even think,
we are busy sucking Oxo soup cubes and mine tastes good though it only cost a farthing and farthings are my favourite, not because of King George but because of the perky little wren on the other side, and we are tramping through the park,
‘lets sit on that bench’ Di says,
and right there we find a key that someone must have lost and its one of those little flat front door keys,
‘its for a Yale lock’ Mike says and he goes through the whole bunch of
keys he carries around looking for one like it,
‘how many have you got?’ i ask and im jealous,
‘four Yales’ he says ‘and theyre all different’
‘how many altogether?’
‘seventeen and i bags this one too’
‘thats not fair’ says Di,
and its not,
but because he loves keys he keeps it and im going to have keys of my own when i get big and im going to put them on a key ring so they can jingle when i run,
i hear the back door open because Mum always leaves early on Saturdays and then she has her half-day off in the afternoon, but this time i hear a cry of surprise so i get busy huffing on our bedroom window to thaw the frost and see out, and Mike comes over and kneels on my bed with me,
and what we see is the whole yard covered with ice right into the corners so it fits like a carpet,
and it glimmers,
‘so much ice!’ i say,
and Mum is already on her way out, all dolled up in her old fur-collar overcoat,
‘with multiplication tables’ Mike explains ‘you can estimate how many tons of it weve got out there’
and in her high heels Mum goes teetering across like shes learning to fly with her arms stretched out to balance her,
but—
she skids a bit, but—
she reaches the door at the top of the stairs and grabs hold of the handle and she turns our way to wave,
‘is she saying something?’ i ask,
but its too far to hear because our windows shut,
and Mike shrugs at me and i shrug at him so we jump off the bed together and race outside on to the step but we dont dare tread on the ice because its slippery like glass and as big as the swimming baths at Stratford Park,
‘what?’ i yell out to her,
‘can you boys please clear a path’ Mum calls back ‘through the ice?’
‘okay’ we say together, but it sounds American, so then we both say ‘alright’
and down the stairs she goes till its only her bobbing hat and then nothing, while Mike and i stand side by side to look the job over, him with his head on one side so he can judge the job,
‘its too big’ i say,
‘soon we are going to be men’ he corrects me ‘and men work’
‘and i like work’ i say changing sides,
‘so what we do is to make a start’
and we shut the back door to keep the warmth in and rush for the bedroom to pull some woollies on and we rush down the corridor to fetch our Wellies and i bang on Mums bedroom door to wake Diana on the way,
‘youll never guess!’ i yell,
and i go out and show her and i lie down on the ice so im first to try it out,
‘i wish it would snow too’ i say,
and i roll over on my tummy like a swimmer,
‘have you gone crazy?’ Mike laughs and comes skidding over,
‘oooh!’ Di sings out from the open doorway,
‘watch me’ i say,
‘youre such a nincompoop!’ she says,
and i wriggle like a newt, so now she steps out all gingerly and gets down on her tummy too and wriggles up
to me and its a wriggling race, but Michael glides there and back while standing up,
‘its our own slide!’ he says as he slithers to a stop,
‘dare you!’ i say to Di,
‘dare you!’ Di says to me,
so we both try taking a run at it like him but our gumboots get in the way and Di falls over and now shes going to cry and spoil everything but she sees the funny side instead,
‘hey!’ Mike shouts and now hes showing off,
and he whizzes past both our skylights, right to the head of the stairs and i can see that hes going to crash because hes moving too fast to stop so hes bound to trip over the sill and tumble all the way down to the bottom and break his neck,
‘ta-ra!’ he shouts
because he grabs the doorpost at the last moment and he spins around grinning at us and his scarfs dangling lopsided so he has to hook it over his shoulder,
‘my turn’ i say,
and i try again but my cap falls off and when i make a grab for it i collide with Di and we both fall in a heap and our coats are covered in frost and Dis got frost on the tip of her nose,
‘weve invented the best way to keep warm’ she shouts at Mike,
so when we help ourselves to breakfast the kitchen is fuggy with fumes after Mum left the paraffin heater on for us and the frost starts melting on our clothes and we scoop some porridge into bowls and sprinkle it with brown sugar and make plans for that path across the yard so Mum can be safe when she comes home and Michael sticks our dirty bowls in the sink, and all of us clump about in boots and wrap scarves round our necks again and pick up some tools and tramp outside, Mike has the spade and we have the little coal shovels,
‘okay, watch this’ he says and he walks backwards using the spade to scratch a line on the ice ‘the shortest way between two points is a straight line’
and thats the sort of thing you learn when youre thirteen,
‘Di starts working outside the kitchen door’ Mike tells us ‘i start at the other end and, Rod, you start in the middle right here beside this skylight’
and i rub a bit of the skylight clear so i can look through the glass down into the garage below, and now im all ready to get cracking because my knees are bare and theyre too cold even though i pull my socks up as high as theyll go,
‘is it a race?’ i ask,
‘no’ he says ‘its a proper job’
but i clap my mittens together because it is a race if you ask me and ive got a secret weapon in my pocket and its the screwdriver from the kitchen cupboard that no one knows about, so i hunch over and get to work and the knack is to chip the ice in a straight line till bits begin breaking off like stars, so i reckon im winning because Dis back there huffing and puffing and i can just imagine her gritting her teeth the way she does,
‘this ice is so hard!’ she grumbles,
but i keep at it with my screwdriver until i break right through the slab and i chip a trench thats long enough to get the shovel in with the blade under the edge of the ice,
‘this slab must be two inches thick!’ Mike calls ‘and thats tons of ice!’
and hes right because my shovels no use and i prove it when the ice wont break and im so furious i stamp on the handle of the stupid thing, whack!
‘hooray!’
because a big plate of ice snaps off and skids to one side leaving splintered bits around the hole that look like toytown cliffs so i get the idea of popping back indoors to fetch my Dinky tractor to play with and my Dinky tip-truck too perhaps, so i stick the secret screwdriver in my pocket because i dont want Michael finding out or he will grab it off me because i know him,
‘hey!’ i shout,
and i scramble to my feet,
‘what?’ Mike says and looks up,
so i hold the chunk of ice to show him and i plonk one boot on the skylight because im the champion—
and the—
yard swoops—
smacks me in the face,
and im—
winded!
flat out on the ice and—
theres a sharp pain in my mouth and my cheek burns because im flat on my face and theres one dagger of ice with a blob of blood on it,
Michael yanks me up,
‘how can anyone cut his tongue’ he yells at me ‘against the ground?’
‘nnngg’
‘how?’ Mikes shouting right in my face,
‘nnngg’
‘let your tongue hang out’ he says ‘so we can get a proper look’
‘nnngg’
and he gets a look and says ‘youve slit it right open’
and Di comes to take a look too,
and she says ‘youre like a dying duck in a thunderstorm’
‘and now youve got to stay out here and drip on the ground till i come ba
ck’ Mike says ‘and dont get any blood on your coat’
but next thing hes opened a big square biscuit tin that he shoves against my chest to show me how to hold it because he says i can go back indoors now as long as i catch every drop of blood, so i hug the tin close and Mike gets behind me to steer me by the shoulders,
‘dont slip again’ he warns and we tread carefully,
‘mind the step’ he says,
but i cant see it because the biscuit tins in the way so i stumble,
‘didnt i tell you!’ he says,
but he helps me and sits me near the paraffin heater in the kitchen,
‘get as close as possible’ he says ‘to keep warm’
its all very well for him but my tongue hurts and what worries me is that he cant work out how to stop the bleeding and he wont even give me an aspirin for the pain because he says i mustnt swallow anything in case i swallow my tongue too and all i can think of is losing my tongue down inside my tummy and never being able to get it out again,
‘and make sure you dont suffocate to death’ he says ‘or Mum will be cross’
and he orders Di to get on with the work outside while he stays inside with me and reads out loud from the Enid Blyton book, and all through the story my tongue is throbbing so i cant think about anything else but i let the story happen just the same and when its finished i crouch close over the heater and shake my head to tell him not to stop,
‘what, more?’ he says and sighs,
so he goes on to read the newspaper but thats not about anything, just the Russians this and the Germans that and the Americans—
and here comes Mum at last and she drops her bag and lets out a scream because of all this blood swilling about in the biscuit tin, but ive been expecting her all day and im not going to cry so i look up through my eyebrows and watch her over the top of the tin,
‘and then he—’ Mike tells the tale,
but while she listens she gets her handkerchief and folds it into a strip that she wraps around my tongue and then she stuffs the corners inside my cheeks and makes me gag,
‘—on the skylight frame, Mum’ Mike says ‘and the ice and the slope—’
‘he fell down on his face!’ Di explains ‘whack!’
‘nnggg’ i say,
‘and hes been here all morning and ive been looking after him’ Mike says,
‘and ive had to do all the work’ Di says,
