by John Mallon
Chapter 11
The next day was, indeed, the hottest day of the year so far, as Alfie’s dad said it would be. Braddle sat on the mound of stones outside his house with a small bag between his feet containing leaf paste sandwiches and leaf juice. It was still early in the morning but even at that time it felt as if the sun had wrapped a hot scarf around his neck. The street looked like the busiest day of the year at a construction-site theme park. Whole families, with exuberant children, distractible teenagers, irascible parents and unruffled grandparents, were out of doors and doing things to roofs, walls, doors and window frames. Those who were too young, too old or too infirm sat or reclined outside, where they had been placed for their own safety. To them it was a wonderful spectacle put on for their enjoyment. Uncle Malik was amongst them. He had recognised an elderly couple opposite who were struggling with a plank of wood. He immediately went over to them and, after the man had saluted his uncle, they took to slapping each other on the back and laughing like six year olds. Uncle Malik was now directing operations from the roof of their house. To Braddle, his uncle had always been an old man who did not seem to do much. He had never talked about his time as a soldier but now he realised that his uncle had not always been that way. He had lived a life of adventure, of danger, of excitement. Braddle decided that he would ask him about it the next chance he got.
Braddle imagined the same house building going on in every street in Carporoo; families building homes for themselves, building something stable and secure around which their lives would be lived. Would they still do it though, thought Braddle, if they knew that they were surrounded by giants who could so easily destroy everything. It wouldn’t take an army. Alfie’s five year old sister, Lou, could do it all by herself. Maybe he should tell them. He heard a man shout ‘look’, then children laughing. “You’ll fall you silly man” a woman called to him. He was dancing on the roof of the house next door to the one Uncle Malik was working on. “If you fall” she continued “then I’ll have to get a new husband and I know just the man.”
Should he tell them? Should he go to them now and tell them about the giants? Would they thank him for doing so?
“Hello Braddle. How’s your head?”
Braddle smiled to himself; he recognised the voice. He stopped smiling and turned round.
“Hello Grenta. My head’s alright. It would take more than your little ball to knock some sense in to it.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m watching Uncle Malik hard at work. He only went over to say hello.”
“He’s always busy, isn’t he? He helped dad fix the kitchen floor a couple of days ago. Dad said that he was the finest man in all of Carporoo. We were all shocked because dad, usually, doesn’t like anyone.”
They stood in silence as they watched Uncle Malik hammering nails into the roof.
“Are you going to tell me your secret now?” Grenta asked.
“I’ll tell you later” Braddle told her. “Are you doing anything today?”
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Well, why don’t we explore the city? I don’t know about you but I need a break from building work.”
Grenta thought about it. It would be exciting to see how the new city looked but her father did not like her going too far from the house. She couldn’t imagine him giving his permission. He was, sadly, in bed with a bad back but there was no reason, no reason at all, why she couldn’t ask her mother instead.
“Alright” she said. “I’ll just go and ask mum.”
Grenta turned and ran straight in to Braddle’s mother, Frey.
“Good morning Grenta” she said, after she steadied herself. “What’s the rush?”
“Oh sorry” replied Grenta “I was just going to ask my mum whether I can go exploring with Braddle.”
“Is that a good idea? You know what happened last time” she said addressing Braddle.
“It will be alright” he said. “I know my way around now and I’ll stay clear of Naster if I happen to see him.”
“Alright. But I don’t want you back late and you can only go if Grenta’s parents agree.”
“They will” Grenta insisted.
“It’s good to see you two finally talking” Braddle’s mother continued. “Grenta has wanted to make your acquaintance ever since she moved in but I’m afraid you were too shy to notice.”
They both blushed, though Braddle’s cheeks went a deeper red than Grenta’s.
“It’s hot today” she said, laughing. “Well, I can’t stand here all day.”
“Where are you going?” Braddle asked.
“I’ve got an appointment with Drostfur. He sent a letter this morning asking that I come to see him. Well, not just me. He wanted to see all three of us. You, me and Uncle Malik. He stressed that it was important.”
She looked over at Uncle Malik hard at work on the roof.
“Your uncle and me agreed that I go alone. He’s busy doing other things as you can see but you, on second thoughts, could come with me. I would like the company.”
She smiled at him. Braddle looked at Grenta and then at the ground.
“If you want me to come I will” he said. “We can go exploring another day.”
Frey noticed the disappointment on Grenta’s face and told them that there was no need. She was only joking.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give your apologies to Drostfur” she said. “I should be back by lunchtime.”
She waved to her uncle on the roof opposite. He waved back to her.
“Hopefully, when I return, I’ll have good news. Take care” she said, and set off towards the centre of the city.
“Take care yourself” he called to her.
“Be back in a minute” said Grenta.
Braddle watched his mother until she was out of sight. Why did Drostfur want to speak to her, to them? Did he have any news about his father? Did he want to discuss Alfie? Or was it something else…Grenta returned.
“Come on then Braddle. Let’s go.”
Braddle felt responsible for the city as he took Grenta to its new places and showed them off to her. He wanted her to appreciate it like he appreciated it, as if it was a good book he insist she read. Her response though never seemed to fit with his. She took a great interest in the partly built school a few streets away, in the exposed drainage tunnels running under the main roads and the shopping district in the centre of town, which was to be at least four times bigger than the previous one. She was not so impressed by the army barracks, by the artillery machines under construction by the specialised Spronger Defence Force or by the new Arena. In late afternoon, they eventually arrived at the yellow flag.
“Let’s sit under the flag and have something to eat” said Braddle.
Around them men and women were busy collecting building materials from the nearby repository and taking them to all parts of the city. Another group were continually filing out of the garage carrying materials to restock it. Braddle took two thick slices of bread, smeared in leaf-paste, from his bag. He gave one to Grenta and took a big bite out of the other. They ate in silence watching the people work around them.
“So, are you going to tell me your secret now or not?” Grenta asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Yes” he told her.
Grenta sat in silence as Braddle told her about Alfie, about how he had saved him from Naster and had become friends and about the fact that millions of giants lived all around but most people in Carporoo were unaware of them. When he had finished it seemed to Braddle that Grenta was about to burst out laughing. For a brief moment he felt as if their friendship was about to end before it had begun but Grenta did not laugh. Instead, she simply said ‘That-Is-Amazing.’ (It was a relief to Braddle that she believed him. To be accused of lying when he was telling the truth was something he hated. He would prefer to have a stomach ache rather than experience that).
“I would like to meet him” said Grenta
standing up. “Let’s go in now” and she took a step towards the hole in the wall.
“No point. He’s not there today. He said that he was going to the seaside for a day out.”
“Seaside?” said Grenta. “What’s that?”
“Don’t know” replied Braddle, “he never said.”
Braddle stood up. “Time to go home. It’s a long walk back.”
“When can I meet him?” she asked.
“We agreed to meet tomorrow morning” said Braddle. “You can come with me, if you like.”
The shadow of the garage had thrown itself over the city by the time they had returned home.
“Meet me here tomorrow, early” said Braddle.
Grenta yawned in to her hand and nodded, then ran to her house.
Uncle Malik was sitting at the kitchen table drumming the fingers of both hands on its hard surface when Braddle entered.
“Ah Braddle, you’re home.”
“Where’s mother?” asked Braddle.
“I don’t know. She’s not back yet. Should be back any minute now though” he said.
Braddle could see that he was worried, very worried. Uncle Malik was never any good at hiding his feelings.
“I’ll wait with you” said Braddle and he sat down next to him.
The shadow outside darkened and drew black curtains across the window. Braddle and Uncle Malik waited. They waited, even though their eyelids yearned to close; they waited, as their heads jerked upright after falling forwards, then backwards then forwards again; they waited, after Braddle rested his head on his arm outstretched on the table, hand grasping at nothing. They waited through a hollowed-out summer's night with a thick heat tumbling over them. They waited but Braddle's mother did not return.
