‘That int no master,’ laughed Lamby. ‘That’s the Preacher. The Preacher and all his guards and whatever else.’
‘You sure?’
‘Course. What you expectin?’
Trey didn’t know but the sight of a holy man settled in a car meant for rich folk was not right and he said as much.
‘Spose a horse and cart would be more fittin. Horse and cart and a barrel full of Bibles.’
Trey shook his head and he went to stand. ‘That car int right for a Preacher,’ he said again. ‘Just int.’
He kept his eyes on the vehicle as it crawled cautiously along the uneven track and when the open passenger window came into view Trey glimpsed the man sitting there.
‘The Preacher,’ he said.
‘That’s right,’ said Lamby. ‘Spose he’s come to check up on things.’ Lamby passed the water to Trey. ‘You all right? You look a little done in, pukey even.’
Trey licked the dry from his lips. ‘I’m fine.’ He took up the water and drank and all the while he kept his eyes on the SUV as it wormed through camp. If there was a moment for thinking this was it and he closed his eyes and he asked the demon who was blowing up a storm inside to be quiet to be quiet to be quiet.
‘He all right?’ asked Kay.
‘Gone and got a bit peaky,’ said Lamby.
‘I’m fine.’ Trey snapped open his eyes and he tried to smile but the panic that was in him came spilling and he knew Kay saw it. He pushed off the back of the truck and rubbed his head and he wished his brains weren’t blown to ash in the heat.
‘I’m goin for a walk,’ he told them.
‘You can’t do that,’ said Lamby.
‘Watch me,’ he said.
He cut a line through the fields where he saw the SUV melt into the hell horizon and when walking wasn’t good enough he took to running with his feet digging spades into the baked earth. One more look was all he needed to see the Preacher’s face. To see it was to know one way or the other, another step in his pursuit to find out the truth. In his heart he carried a sackful of sorrow and across his shoulders he saddled the burden of guilt. What it was to be alive when those he loved were not or almost not.
He told himself to calm some, couple thinking with the anger in order to take control.
With the breath pushed from him he stopped running and with each laboured step he thought out the best way to go at the thing that needed doing.
He went on towards the heart of the camp despite knowing that by going forth he was stamping out his own demise. When the demon told him to kill the Preacher he told it to be quiet until he knew things for sure.
Anyway this was prison camp. The Preacher hid behind armed bodyguards and Trey couldn’t risk his own demise, the bullet to the brain same as Billy.
‘Come back,’ he shouted and his voice broke like a twig and turned to dust at the back of his throat. ‘You gotta come back.’
He kept on walking towards the work buildings and then the bunkhouses and past the food tent and on towards the farmhouse at the entrance of the camp. All he could think was a hundred times maybe, but then again maybe not. It had only been brief in any case. A face in an open window, caught in an instant and framed like a portrait. If Trey could just see him a moment more he could scratch him off the list and go back to sifting through what he knew of the other men.
He crossed the clearing and when the SUV stopped Trey jumped into the shadow of the farmhouse and waited. He hoped to heaven that the Preacher would get out of the car and he waited for the door to open and held his breath in anticipation. He heard the door of the farmhouse swing open and McKenzie come into view and he watched him approach the vehicle.
‘Speak up,’ said Trey and he shuffled forward so he could hear the man speak. McKenzie was saying something about everything being good and fine and sorted and Trey could tell by his tone that whatever it was he referred to was far from it. When McKenzie stopped talking Trey held his breath and he closed his eyes to put himself back in that childhood cupboard. The Preacher spoke, once. Three words put out on to the air and they were all for Trey. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said and Trey nodded, so would he.
When the vehicle skidded out through the gates, McKenzie returned to the house and the guards resumed sitting and idling in their seats. Trey emerged from the shadows. The Preacher’s voice so matched in mind that there was nothing left to do but take out his lighter and flick the flame and it was like a great occasion he was marking. He held it to the stupid ‘Welcome’ sign and waited for the flare to take hold and then he ran until his legs gave out.
Trey stood at the top of the ridge where he had first found refuge and he watched the sign at the front of the house below come alive with the blaze and he waited until the rope burnt to dust and the detritus fell like a corpse to the ground.
He found the tree stump and sat with his hood in hiding and he took a moment to take in everything that he now knew as truth. He wished he could communicate with Billy this one time. Tell him that he had found their parents’ killer, it wasn’t that hard after all.
Down below he could see McKenzie jumping mad, the circling smoke perhaps a hint of things to come, a signal. He watched him kick gravel-dust at the fading sign and when the fire was nothing but charcoal remains Trey got to his feet.
As soon as he stood he wished he had waited a minute longer. If he had waited he would have seen the master return to the house and got away easily.
He sprinted down the rear of the hill despite its steep descent and he set a trail through the gorse-covered valley below to be sure of his getaway. It wasn’t until he fell against a granite jut of rock that he stopped and he lay in the scrubland and looked up at the heavens in the hope that something might save him from McKenzie.
All that had been happy hope in finding the Preacher had ripped and was in danger of unravelling. Trey waited and he held his breath and he heard the man’s voice and when his shouting became distant he got up.
Time dressed itself in the cloak of stupidity and it went slow and fast and indifferent and Trey kept walking despite the split above his eye and the pump of blinding blood.
He wiped the blood from his face and when the spill kept on coming he took off his T-shirt and pushed the cloth into the side of his head to sponge the wet. He kept on walking and the moor looked all the same. The one foot and then the other was all he could do because thought and reason had abandoned him, he’d set a fire and had nearly got caught. He kept one hand pressed to his head and the other worked his lighter over in his pocket but the usual calm he got from fire thought had deserted him.
He sat where he stood and everything inside and out was cinder burnt and the last of reckless heat circled him and buzzed his ears with surrounding sound. If he was to get revenge he would have to be smarter than he’d ever been. He couldn’t risk being caught for something as stupid as small fire, get put in solitary and have DB and McKenzie’s eyes on him more than ever.
He wiped his hands clean of sweat and blood and took the photo from his pocket and he looked at Mum and he looked at Dad and his thumb that had been rubbing face to face went to tickle Billy’s into a smile and he closed his eyes but no matter how hard he tried the image of kin was slipping. Brother Billy was close to gone from life and near enough gone from Trey. He could not remember him and he hit his own head over and still he could not remember.
In this trance he heard his name rise and reel over the land and when the calling ceased to stop he stood up and he recognised the farm stables for the first time and Kay standing and she waved him over.
‘Dint you hear me callin?’ she asked.
Trey shook his head.
‘Shit, what happened to you?’
‘It’s nothin.’
‘Don’t look like nothin. You should have that looked at.’ She nodded towards the cut on his head. ‘Reckon the swell’s gonna take in some of your eye too.’
Trey didn’t care and he said as much.
‘Spose you can
wash up in the stables.’
Trey nodded and he followed Kay and he kept his head down for the stupid that was in him and he waited for her to take the key from her pocket and unlock the door.
Trey thanked her and he was grateful that she didn’t bother with the push and pry. He went to the bucket to sit and rinsed his T-shirt and bathed his head and for one brief moment the cool of water was a shroud in which to hide. He sat back with the bucket between his knees and let the water fall from his face like lace cloth and then he finally opened his eyes.
Inside the stables he could see the horses peeking from their doors and he watched Kay kiss what noses came to her and she told Trey their names but he wasn’t listening.
He wished he was more settled towards level land like she was, had good grounding, despite knowing he was a distant shore from it. He wondered if it were a learnt thing or if she was born steady.
‘You plannin on sittin there all evenin?’ she asked.
‘Nope.’ Trey took one last splash of the cold water and got to his feet and he took the pitchfork Kay offered when she asked him to help.
With mindless duty Trey’s mind stretched and detached from thinking and he half-helped muck out because his hands were red and swollen from the fall and his clutch as soft as valentine balloons.
‘Where the others?’ he asked.
‘John and David are finishin up with the trenches and Lamby’s gone to feed the cattle along the track some.’
‘Spose they think I’m nuts runnin off like that.’
Kay stopped shovelling a moment and she looked at him and told him not to be stupid. ‘You got too many emotions racin in you tis all.’
Trey shook his head but he knew she was right and he hated her insight and he loved it all the same. It was as if Kay had really seen him for who he was and not just in a glance but up-close looking.
‘Emotions is a luxury you can’t afford in here,’ she continued. ‘None of us can. You need to toughen up and if you int got it in you then you better start pretendin.’
‘I wish I had the time,’ he said suddenly, thinking about all he had to do. ‘Int got no time for nothin but wonderin on things too much.’ He looked at her in the hope that she might understand him fully and when she put down the shovel he thought maybe she did.
‘One thing,’ she said. ‘One thing worth more’n anythin is there int no time for nothin but survival. You better dump that feelins talk, that talk int good.’
Trey nodded. ‘But you won’t say nothin, will you?’ he asked. ‘To the other lads.’
‘Bout what?’
‘Runnin off and goin crazy and all.’
Kay shrugged. ‘Int no business of mine ’cept work might not get done. You better go on the run in the evenin next time.’
‘I think maybe I will.’
‘But take a torch, save you fallin worse’n before.’ She went to the door and turned an ear to listening.
‘You hear that?’
Trey stood beside her and he dipped his head out of the breeze that was running northward from off the distant ocean.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Shoutin, callin maybe.’
Trey listened hard. ‘There’s somethin goin on, some kind of shoutin I’d say.’
Kay locked up and they went down the track towards the resonating noise and they picked up speed and took to running when they saw others gathered up ahead circling the action.
A few cows were kicking and fussing out on the dirt track and Kay rounded them back into the field from which they’d escaped and secured the gate.
‘What’s goin on?’ shouted Trey towards the crowd and he tried to push through.
He saw Kay climb the gate and he did the same and together they stood on the middle rung to look down into the ring of vulturous kids.
‘You see anythin?’ he asked.
‘Tryin,’ she said. ‘Can’t understand why the cattle were out.’
‘Someone messin round?’
Kay shook her head. ‘Somethin int right.’
Trey sat back on the gate and he looked at the cows in the field behind and then he looked at Kay.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Where you say the others were?’
‘John and David are finishin the trenches and Lamby’s feedin cattle. Oh shit.’
They jumped from the gate and this time Trey struggled through the unyielding crowd.
‘It’s Lamby,’ he shouted. ‘He’s hurt.’
Trey knelt beside his friend with his T-shirt mopping and he asked if he was OK but anyone with a good eye in their head knew he wasn’t and he told him it was going to be all right and shouted for help all in a muddle. He looked up when Kay joined him and together they pushed back the crowd and all the while they called out for help.
When help arrived it was in the form of DB and the nameless doctor and Trey and Kay watched as they carried Lamby to the flatbed of the pickup and drove off.
Trey stood and rubbed his foot into the damp red dust ground and his hand went to his lighter for comfort. ‘Wilder, I knew well he had it in for him.’
‘Wilder has it in for everyone.’ Kay went on towards her bunkhouse when the siren sounded and she shouted for him to not go looking for trouble.
‘Don’t worry int my problem for gettin into.’
Trey picked up his blood-soaked vest and he went to the outside water pump used for watering the animals and rinsed himself and Lamby from the cloth. He strangled the red from red and put it on and the cold was welcome in the heat.
He followed the straggling crowd that had been ordered back to their bunkhouses and Trey looked out for Wilder but he was nowhere to be seen.
Inside Tavy house some boys were talking about Lamby but most weren’t bothered either way and Trey wondered which was worse: hatred or indifference.
He sat on his bed until meal time chimed and he lagged behind the others as they loped towards the tent and he noticed the dark that was heading with encroaching cloud and was glad of the gloom. He looked for his friends and took what food was on offer without the usual bother and went through the motion of praying and sitting and eating alone with his head slung low from his shoulders.
There was something circling in the air that spun close to both delight and fear. A place that Trey did not understand and he wanted no part. When the noise became deafening he got up to leave but the two older boys who supervised the entrance told him everybody had to wait.
‘Wait for what?’ he asked.
‘McKenzie.’
Trey returned to his seat and he thought about what it was McKenzie had to say and he hoped it was to do with Lamby. To send a warning shot towards the bully boys would have been something.
‘Fire,’ shouted a voice from the back of the tent. ‘There’s bin a fire.’
Trey turned to watch McKenzie part the crowd as he walked to the front of the tent and he told everybody to sit.
‘Somebody has set fire to the camp sign.’ He put his hand to his chain and looked over his audience for signs of guilt and when his eyes met Trey’s he put his head down and his hand to his lighter.
‘Burnt it clean to the ground,’ he continued. ‘Could’ve burnt the farmhouse down if I weren’t there to put it out.’
Trey felt the demon twitch with pride and he swallowed it back into his gut. He wished he had the nerve to ask about Lamby, just stand up and shout it and have the master answer in front of everyone. Keeping up a front was the only thing that mattered to those running Camp Kernow, keeping the kids in line no matter how bowed and beat and bloody they stood.
He watched McKenzie wind himself up for the sake of show but Trey no longer listened and he looked at his hands for the pick and when he returned his gaze to the master he saw Wilder standing beside him.
When the boy saw Trey looking he waved for him to join them and Trey scraped at his empty plate, pretending he hadn’t seen him. The boy was bad and he knew it and he wondered why he himself was anywhere
close to his radar except as another boy to bully.
He kept his head down and when McKenzie left he saw an opportunity to get gone. He tipped his cap forward and ducked from the tent and headed back to the bunkhouse.
He pulled off his wet T-shirt and lay on his back and with the giddy that came from the knock to his head and he allowed the swim to guide him towards some kind of concussed sleep.
In that state of near drowning the young boy Trey played out on the headland close to home and his wishing and praying was all for Billy because the boy that was both protector and friend had gone. Not far and not away, but the boy that was big brother had been taken from Trey. He saw the chapel and the gravestones laid snaggle-tooth in the clay yard and everyone standing black and serious and stony, staring out to sea like statues waiting for the next storm to come crashing in.
Trey knew this dream and he knew it well and no matter how far he ran from it, to dare himself to turn was to see that steeple and the black and the black and the black. It was a place of dread and of terror but each night he knew he would go back. To return to the nightmare was to try in vain to pare partial guilt from his bones. It was a lonely place but Trey had got used to being alone.
CHAPTER SIX
Trey woke the following morning with fear balanced dead weight against his chest and he sat up and looked over at Lamby’s bed. At the far end of the room he could see the door had not been locked because a little daylight flashed there occasionally when the wind blew and Trey guessed DB had forgotten to lock it because of yesterday’s commotion.
He glanced around him and some boys were stirring and he saw Wilder, his wide mouth moving with unconscious ramblings.
He sloped from off the bed and silently he carried his trainers across the room and through the door. Outside he crouched to tie his shoes and he went to splash his face in the shower-block sink. He stood and contemplated his reflection in the one good mirror and poked at the split-lip and the purple circling his left eye, plum stained and darkening, and he sighed because there was nothing he could do to change it.
The Light That Gets Lost (Shakespeare Today) Page 8
