Daz 4 Zoe

by Robert Swindells

  I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, but it did. I had so few friends I couldn’t afford enemies. I hurried off up the street, trying not to look like someone in a hurry and wondering what would happen later when I called for Tabby. Wednesday nights Tabby and me go to youth club, and I pictured myself walking up to her door as usual and ringing the bell, only this time Mrs Wentworth answers it and when she sees it’s me she looks down her nose and says, I’m sorry dear, Tabitha won’t be joining you this evening, and I can tell from the way she says it that Tabitha won’t be joining me any other time either from now on, because she’s a Wentworth and Wentworths don’t associate with Chippy-lovers.

  What I did was, I went a long way round to shake off my tormentors, walking rapidly through drifts of fallen leaves, towards the waste ground just inside the boundary fence where nobody ever goes except cats and little kids, and I never did find out what would have happened at Tabby’s place that night, because something happened out there. Something staggering.

  DAZ

  if you fink i’m wadin frou Subby muck you rong. This tunnel old rite? It was here before Silverdale and no 1 use it no more. Most old tunnels blockt of but sum 1 forgot this 1.

  So. No Subby muck. Just rat muck plus rats. i hear em and i seen ther littel eyes. Thay dont bower me, the rats. Thay reel, like me. Not like that miner tour and Clint goast and moving shadders. Not like the ekco neever. Give me the rats ennitime.

  Aniway i’m up this tunnel and evryfing going slow exept my hart, witch its going pretty fast. i’m shining the flashlite on the flor and sides and top, mostly flor, and letting out the twine. Wite stuff hanging down evriwear gets in my hair i dunno wot it is. Miner tour fur, mebbe. its cold like ice down here, but i’m getting use 2 the stink – dont notis it no more. i make so much noise walking and breeving it sownds like thers sum 1 follering but only drippy ekco wen i stop. i’m going on like this, stopping and starting, scairt, but saying easy-peasy, not long now, wen suddenly thers 2 tunnels.

  i stop, but my hart speeds up sum more. Dont panic, i sez. Fink. i stand ther wiv these 2 black hoals in front ov me, finking, but it dont do no good. no marks aniwear. no way 2 tel witch way Silverdale. Boaf ways mebbe. Or non. So its a tossup only i got nuffing to toss so i try rite. i remember wot Clint sez abowt gerrin lost down here til i die, and a few steps in i stop 2 check my twine, its okay.

  This tunnel difrent thogh. hoals both sides leeding of, and pretty soon it splits again and i after chooz. i fink, if i go rite again i’m gonna sail rite past Silverdale. i go left and i check my twine again. You in a stinky black maze, you check yor twine an all i bet.

  Aniway by this time i’m starting 2 wonder does this tunnel reely go 2 Silverdale or was that Clint winding me up. Mebbe this tunnel goes nowear. Mebbe it goes 2 the sea. i seen the sea 1 time. its big. And wile i’m wondering this i see somfing on the flor in frunt ov me. somfing wite and its not hanging down neever. i moov tord it slow, shining the flashlite on it and wen i see wot it is i yell out and my yell ekco and ekco and i neerly turn and run.

  its a skelington.

  this skelington mouf open like it larfing only noffing much to larf abowt rite? Bits of old doodies on it and legboans stuck in dockmartins. i shine my flashlite over it and then i seen somfing make me glad. i know wot you finking, you finking cant be noffing make me glad near a skelington but you rong. Ded rong. (ha ha geddit?) this skelington on its armboan got this band. plastic armband wiv D on it and this is not D for ded this is D for Dred. this wots left ov 1 Dred and i fink, he been 2 Silverdale i bet. got hit not kilt rite away. tryd 2 get hoam but died here. So. i’m going the rite way rite?

  littel voyce in my head sez mebbe not. Mebbe this guy lost like you. Shut yor mouf i sez. Wot you wanta go scair me for eh? i stept over the rags and boans and went on kwick.

  i’m scairt alrite but noffing else happened plus no more splits in the tunnel. My ball ov twine getting littel thogh, and just wen i fink mebbe it run owt i see lite ahead.

  i head 4 the lite, mooving reel slow, finking, Silverdale owt ther boy. You get cort now, you ded. i creep up 2 the end and luck owt. its been longer than i fought gerrin here. Daylite nearly gon but i see why this tunnel aint blockt of. it coms owt a little hilside. Piles ov muck all rownd. Erf and stoans and smasht up brix and long grass over it like sumplace in the city. i never new they had places like this in Veezaville. 1 pile ov muck rite in frunt ov the tunnel plus fireweed and littel trees. hundreds peeple pass by, no 1 see this hoal.

  i go back in, strip off my doodies, get into coveralls and cap. now I’m a Chippy wiv graft in Silverdale. i put my doodies in the sac and hide it in the tunnel. i put the littel ball ov twine on the flor wiv a stoan on top. Then i walk out the hoal and frou the piles ov muck like i done it evry day. Gotta luck cool or sum bouncer ast 4 my seeit and i aint got 1. i’m just finking wear the big kid school wen somfing umbeleevabel happens. i luck rownd and ther she is – the girl i come 4.

  troof is stronger than friction, rite?

  ZOE

  It was like Grandma when Gordon Payne walked in that music shop. My heart kicked and I forgot how to breathe and my legs practically gave way under me. Only thing that went on working was my mind, and that must’ve gone into overdrive because in the second between me seeing him and him seeing me it processed about fifty thousand thoughts.

  First I thought, it’s not him. It’s some guy who looks like him. It was almost dark, see? Then, when there was no doubt it was him I thought, he’s not here because of me. He’s got work in Silverdale. When he sees me he’ll drop his eyes and walk on by like he never saw me before, ‘cause that’s what Chippies do.

  There were a lot more thoughts I’ve forgotten. It was my mind trying to shield me, I guess – to protect me from disappointment by refusing to believe or even to hope. If I’d let myself think he was looking for me and it turned out he wasn’t I couldn’t have stood it. I’d have fallen apart.

  Anyway, the second passed and he saw me and I knew the miracle had happened. He was here for me, all right – I could see it in his face. He stopped, and I knew exactly how he was feeling – weak knees, aching chest and a mind racing towards burnout.

  It was just like an old, old movie. We stood looking at each other and then we both moved at once, and before we knew it we were clinging together in the middle of all that squalor and nothing mattered except to hold on and never, ever, ever let go.

  DAZ

  Its like she sez. i seen her and dam near got a hartatak. We run togevver and clingon and i forget abowt danger and all that.

  So we clingon and i sez wot thay call you. Zoe she sez. i never herd ov it. i tel my name Daz and she larfs. wots funny i sez and she sez Daz thats a washing powda. wel i sez. Zoe sownd like a littel animal or somfing and we boaf larfing.

  lots more tork we done that firs nite. Magic it was only no magic in my riting so i stop now. you reed wot Zoe put, you be ther.

  ZOE

  Yes, that’s right – shove it all onto me, Daz. Typical flaming Chippy, as Dad would say.

  Ah, but he’s right. It was magic. It was. I know it sounds corny and all that, but you really do get so wrapped up in each other you forget everything else. I mean, the guy was risking his life just being there and we didn’t even think about it. We were within a few yards of the perimeter fence, a double fence with a floodlit walkway between. All suburbs have them, and every now and then security men patrol the walkway. They operate in pairs, some with dogs. They all carry automatic weapons and a Chippy seen anywhere near a fence after sundown is liable to get shot. There’d be TV cameras dotted about as well, and guys in a post somewhere watching screens. The lights had just come on and there’d be a patrol any minute and there we were, him with this big yellow disc on his overall and a Subby girl in his arms, horsing around and laughing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It’s a wonder either of us lived to tell the tale.

  When we finally came up for air, Daz steered me toward a drift of r
ubble which would hide us from the fence. The floodlights created a pool of deep shadow on our side of the drift so that we’d be practically invisible if anybody came along, which was unlikely. We found a couple of big stones and sat down on them, holding hands.

  There was so much to learn. So many things we didn’t know about each other. He began telling me how awful it had been, thinking about me day and night, not knowing whether I was thinking of him, and I said it’d been the same for me. He asked how old I was and I told him I was nearly fifteen, though my birthday’s in February and that was five months away. He said he’d just gone fifteen.

  ‘D’you go to school?’ I asked. I knew Chippies don’t have to go, some do, some don’t. He told me he got thrown out and when I asked why he grinned and said, ‘Fooling around – thinking about you when I should’ve been thinking about my lessons.’

  I nodded. ‘I got in trouble for that too, but chucked out – that’s a bit rough, surely?’

  He shrugged. ‘Big city. One school. Plenty kids waiting to go. I was gonna quit anyway.’

  ‘What for? I mean, what d’you do now?’

  ‘Nothing. I wanted to join Dred, only they turned me down.’

  ‘You wanted -.’ I looked at him. ‘Why’d you want to be in a terrorist organisation, for pete’s sake?’ I realised I knew pitifully little about him.

  ‘Why?’ He looked down, hacking the dirt with the heel of his trainer. ‘They topped our Del for a kickoff. And I hate Subbies.’

  ‘I’m a Subby.’ Yes, I told myself. And here I am sitting in the dark with the guy. How do I know he’s not fixing to cut my throat? I wasn’t scared, though. I couldn’t believe he’d hurt me. It was unthinkable.

  ‘Yeah.’ He loosened a small stone and flicked it away with his toe. ‘I know. That’s how come they knocked me back.’

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘They saw us. You and me. At the club. They’ve got me figured for a Subby-lover.’

  I nodded. ‘My so-called friends’ve taken to calling me Chippy-lover.’

  ‘Why?’ He gripped my hands so tight it hurt. ‘Do they know about me?’

  ‘No.’ I tried to free my hands. He realised what he was doing and relaxed his grip, but he seemed about to jump up and run.

  ‘No, they don’t know about you. How could they? I didn’t know about you myself till tonight, did I? And if I had, d’you think I’d have told anyone? I’m not a fool, Daz.’

  He chuckled, shaking his head. ‘Okay, Zoe. I’m jumpy, right? They find me here, I die. For a minute I thought -.’

  ‘Listen.’ I looked in his eyes. ‘I think you better go soon, anyway.’ He’d laughed, but his reaction had reminded me of the risk he was taking. I told him he’d better go but I didn’t want him to, and so to keep him I said, ‘Who was Del?’

  ‘My brother. He was fifteen.’

  ‘And they – executed him?’

  ‘Topped him, yeah.’

  ‘What for.’

  ‘Dred. Here in Silverdale two years back. I said I’d get even.’

  ‘And will you?’ I didn’t want to know the answer to that. I don’t know why I asked. He shrugged.

  ‘Dunno. Spect so. Have to wait and see, won’t we?’

  He got up, so I did too. Muted voices and the clop of boots on cement told us a patrol was passing and we stood quietly till the sound receded.

  ‘Listen,’ I murmured. ‘You better not come here again, Daz. It’s too dangerous, but how am I going to see you?’

  He shook his head. ‘I dunno, Zoe. There’s only the tunnel. I gotta see you.’

  ‘Maybe I could come to you.’

  ‘D’you drive?’

  ‘No. You’ve got to be seventeen.’

  ‘How, then?’

  ‘I don’t know. Listen. Is there some way I can get a message to you?’ Mail service is confined to the suburbs and so is the phone, so I wasn’t going to be able to write or call.

  He thought for a minute, then said, ‘Mebbe.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘You know the guys who take your trash?’

  ‘Yes I do, but – hey – you mean they’d take a note or something? Wouldn’t they get in trouble?’

  He laughed. ‘Who’s going to find one little bit of paper on a trash truck? You slip ’em a little cash, they take your note. Tell ’em Daz at the Black Diamond. It’s a club.’

  It was obvious when you thought about it, but to me right then it was a wonderful discovery. A lifeline. A means of communication where I’d thought there could be none. For one thing, it meant we could part tonight without too much anguish. It still wouldn’t be perfect but it would be bearable.

  And that’s it. The story of our first date. I told him I’d think of a plan and write him, and meanwhile he was to look at the moon each night at ten and I’d be looking at it, too.

  Romantic, right? And easy, because everything was going to be so much better now. So much better. Except that after he insisted on seeing me safely on to a well-lighted road, and kissed me, and melted away in the shadows, my blissful sleepwalk home was shattered first by a shout somewhere behind, then by that unmistakeable ripping noise an auto rifle makes.

  I tried to tell myself it had nothing to do with Daz but I knew better, and so after that one brief, ecstatic interlude it was back to square one, only worse.

  DAZ

  i kist her and it made me feel so grate i forgot wear i was. Not 4 long thogh. I’m walking under trees, finking i’m okay in the dark and all, wen sudenly this dazler hits me in the face and a voice sez hold it rite ther.

  i’m blind but not darft. i hang abowt, this guy eever gonna shoot me or ast 4 my seeit witch i haven’t got 1. Eever way it com 2 the same fing so i run, nor i dont know wear i run neever.

  He dont mess about. i’m dodging frou the trees and he showt somfing and start shooting. bullits ratling twigs. i’m so scairt i cant fink. i run and tork like this – wear the tunnel o god wears that godam tunnel. i’m crying if you wanta know. Sum basted shoot at you, you cry 2.

  if this guy coud shoot i’m ded rite now. if he foller me, same. He cant shoot and he dont foller, but wen the shooting stopt i know he be calling his mates on radio. soon be milyons of em lucking 4 me. i run til i seen the fence then cut left along it, blowing and torking that tunnel o god wears it gon. Soon i’m in piles of muck and trash and i fink this is it – that tunnel come owt somwear hear. jus then i hear a big noyz and its a fan coming innit. Fans got spotlites plus masheenguns. jus wot i need i dont fink. Fan coming in low over the fence and i seen it spotlite racing over the grownd and i fink this is it lad – you ded now 4 shor, but just then i seen the tunnel. i’m ded nackerd but i run 2 it and get in nor i dont give a monkeys about no miner tour neever.

  Not much more 2 tel. i dont stop 2 swop doodies. i grab the bag and set of, wynding in the twine. Slow job that wynding, speshly if sum 1 after you wiv a gun. i dont yuse the flashlite 4 a bit in case they seeit plus i cant stop 2 get it owt.

  Aniway, no 1 after me. big noyz outside – yells, fans, shooting, i dunno wot they shooting, each ower i hoap. after i bang my hed abowt six milyon times i stop and get my flashlite owt the bag and evryfing fine after that. No miner tour, no Clint goast. Skelington stil ther but so wot – damsite wors if he walking abowt rite?

  So i get hoam okay and that wen i start 2 worry. Zoe. she herd shooting mebbe she fink i’m ded nor i cant tel her i’m not. Mebbe they pick her up 4 Chippy-lover 2.

  So big worry but worf it thogh. O yes.

  Zoe.

  ZOE

  When I got home Mum wanted to know why there was mud on my shoes. It wasn’t the number one topic on my mind. I told her I crossed the school playing-field. She didn’t know anything about the name-calling and I wasn’t about to tell her.

  I couldn’t eat. I mumbled some excuse about a big school lunch and cleaned up my shoes while my parents ate. After that I went to my room and tried to do my homework. I couldn’t concentrate. A voice in my head kept sa
ying, he could be dead. You were with him an hour ago and now he could be dead.

  I’d have to watch the news. There’s this bulletin at nine o’clock. Normally I’d have been walking back from youth club with Tabby at that time, but I couldn’t go now. I told Mum I wasn’t feeling too good and stayed in my room, looking out the window. If there weren’t houses between I could’ve seen the fence from here, close to where the tunnel was. As it was I could only see the faint radiance floodlights make in the sky.

  Around seven the phone rang in the downstairs hallway. I hoped it was Tabby. Mum would say I was sick but at least it’d mean she was still allowed to associate with me.

  It seemed like years till nine o’clock. At five to I switched on my set and caught the weather forecast. Wind and rain. Who cares?

  There was nothing on the news. There wouldn’t be in the main bulletin, of course, but there was nothing in the Silverdale spot, either. No news is good news, right?

  Wrong. Not for me, anyway. I knew I was in for a sleepless night with plenty of tenterhooks, before the next bulletin at six a.m.

  I was right. If you’ve ever stayed awake all night – one of those long autumn nights – you’ll know how the time can drag. I rolled around till my blankets got all knotted up. I drank water and looked at my watch and went to the bathroom about eight hundred times and grew steadily more convinced that Daz was dead. Just before six I switched on with the volume real low and sat on the edge of my wrecked bed squinting at the screen and there is was, first item in the local news:

  ‘There was an incident in south Silverdale last night when remote surveillance showed a man acting suspiciously near the perimeter fence. When challenged by a security guard the man, who was wearing outsider coveralls fled, ignoring repeated orders to halt. The guard opened fire but the man made off into the darkness. An exhaustive search failed to find him, and people living in the area are warned to be vigilant since the man is almost certainly dangerous and may be armed.’