Bearmouth

by Liz Hyder

  This feels so good, he says out loud. This feels so good! He gives a yelp as he dives down, feet in the air, an I almost smyles but insted I remoov myself from temptayshun an clambers out onto the rock. I sits next to Thomas an wrings myself out, drip drip onto my nees. I pulls my soppin wet unders up an all. Most o the men dunt wear unders harf the time but Thomas told me an Tobe we should always wear some even when we washes under the pumps or goes swimmin see. Thomas dos the sayme an I kno some think its odd but tis how it is.

  What was you talkin about? I says.

  Thomas just looks at me, eyes harf closed, a sleepy smyle on his fayce.

  Nothin, he says.

  But I kno that ent troo.

  Hes dayngeruss, I whisper to Thomas. Dayngeruss.

  Thomas sits immobile. Opens one eye an looks at me.

  People are only as dayngeruss as you give em leeve to be, little one. An Thomas shuts his eye again.

  Sometimes I think Thomas can see into my sole, lyke the Mayker hisself. Cross, I move further away to dry off before I pull my clothes back on again. They feel scratchy an wrong. I stomps all the way back to my bunk an sulks for what feels lyke the rest o the day.

  Tobes bin keepin seekrets. I kno this cos I found him out see. Hes bin actin straynge in dorm a few nytes fore lytes out, lyke he dos have flees or summat. Wriggall wriggall. But it ent flees I kno now.

  Turns out soppy bugger bin feedin an befrendin a mouse o all things. I ent shore tis a mouse as seems awfull big for one. Tis a rat I swears by it but it dos seem tayme enuff an Tobe is awfull fond o it. He calls it Mouse an I am sworn to silence on it as Tobe mayde me do so. We ent alloud pets in Bearmouth see. An mice ent xactly the cleenest o creetures.

  Mouse wud be for the chop if any uvvers found out about it so I crosses my parm an promisses I ent tellin but I dos tell Tobe that he needs must be cayreful o keepin Mouse hidden aways. He dos nod an agree but he ent cayreful enuff. An so Mouse dos lead us both into trubble.

  Tis payday today see an tis always kayoss. We gets payd once a month on a Munday. The men are alloud beer fore they gets their wayges, drinkin their earnins away fore coinage even hits their pockit. In the mess, beer is brawt down in grayte barrels, hevvier than the basket I pushs up the rails evry day. Rolly rolly in they come, grayte big barrels longer than me. Taps are pushd onto em an the beer poors out lyke grayte streams o piss. Not cheep neether. A man could drink a weeks coinage an more on Beer Munday.

  Jacks bin ill wi it once or twyce. Once he was so ill that I had to cut an haul, he sed he wuld pay me for it twyce over but he never. Used to clip me round the ear if I wunt fast enuff, a proper cuff, but he ent dun that since so I spose I did earn somethin from it.

  Theres power in the air on payday. You feels it cracklin, whisslin down the sharfts an tunnels. Tis dayngeruss, lyke one spark could lyte up the hole mine. Us youngs steer cleer o the men when they come back layte. A long time ago, when I was proper little, Harrison come back drunk an tryes to climb into bed wi me. I dunt really remember it but I remember Thomas give him a black eye for it. I dint mind too much when Harrison snuffd it too. I never lyked him overly. Still I wunt wish arfterdamp vapours on none, not even worst enemees. Suffokaytin in the dark cos o poyson gases. Tis the worst way to go.

  Payday maykes me nervuss see. All that power cracklin around Bearmouth. An today me an Tobe seen summat that I am shore as shore can be that we wunt sposed to an now we both needs must keep annuver seekret.

  Arfter letters, me an Tobe is headin back to work an Mouse wriggalls out o Tobes pockit.

  Let him go, I says holdin Tobe back as Mouse skurrys off but he twists free o me an goes arfter. I carnt affords to be layte back to shift else Jack will lose his temper but I follows arfter Tobe anyways, mutterin stewpid Mouse to myself.

  I follows Tobes candul flick flickrin round corners an downhill past the barrear that we ent sposed to go past cos it dos denote a part we ent alloud in no more. Dead passidges they calls it when all has bin rippd from its core an there ent no more black gold for the taykin. Two more corners round an I sees him stoopd in a corner an scoopin up that blastd Mouse.

  Hurry up, I hisses but I hears someone comin so I runs over an blows out his lyte.

  If we are cawt here there be trubble, tis out o bowndes. I holds Tobe close to me in the dark, feelin his heart beat beatin.

  Shh, I whispers. I feels him nod, claspin Mouse tyte to his chest.

  A lyte flick flickers further down the dead passidge. Ent no uvver sposed to be down here see. I hears voyces now too.

  Shh, I says to Tobe an I holds my finger to his lips.

  I creeps forwud tip toein down the passidge towards the voyces wi my arms out feelin my way in the dark. Who else myte be down here? I is thinkin. Tobe reetches for my hand an we both edges forwud towards the lyte.

  We shud go back, says Tobe whisperin.

  Wayte, I says. Shh.

  I creeps forwud til I can just about see round the corner. I inches an peeks out behind the support post clutchin it wi my hand, nayles diggin into the musty wood. I peeks down the narrow passidge an there is a man on his nees, candul lyte flickrin on him. I sees his fayce cos he is lookin up lyke but I dunt kno him. He ent famileear to me.

  I straynes to hear what he says but tis cleer he is upset, harf sobbin, his fayce is all batterd.

  Please, he says. Please.

  Anuvver man what I carnt see hits him hard about the fayce. Theres a shadow o a third man in the candul lyte.

  It ent what you think, says the man on his nees. Blood dos run from his nose. Tis just talk is all. I ent dun nuffink wrong.

  He gets hit again for that. Whakk round his hed. I winces at the sound o it.

  Cayreless talk, says the man in the shadows. Rylin the uvvers. Gettin em workd up. We carnt have that now can we Rickerbee? Carnt have awkwud men here. Gatherin is forebidden outside o mess an dorms, ent we told you that afore?

  There wunt be no trubble no more, says the man they calls Rickerbee, snifflin lyke.

  No, says the shadow man. No there wunt. No groups, no gatherin, no talk, no disobeedients. Mayke him learn his lessun, he says to the man doin all the hittin an he goes in again on him.

  Rickerbee cryes out but there ent none to hear him, sayve me an Tobe.

  Banish me, he says tween blows. Banish me as an awkwud man.

  Oh yule be banishd alryte, says the voyce in the shadows. Theres time enuff for that yet. Carry on, he says to the fella as the fists rain down on Rickerbee.

  Mayker sayve us. Tis lyke they meen to batter him to his last breath an there ent nothin I can do. We carnt keep watchin tho – this ent for youngs. My foot slips an kicks a rock, echoin as it rolleys down the passidge. I holds my breath.

  Hello, says the voyce from the shadows. Anyone there?

  Me an Tobe we skuttles out o there faster than a hayre, runnin past the barrear an back into Bearmouth proper. I pulls Tobe behind me, heart in mouth, draggin him fayre back to our dorm, taykin evry twist an turn I can. When Im shore we ent followd, we stops, pantin an out o breath.

  We carnt say nuffink about this, I says to Tobe in a low voyce. We ent seen or herd nuffink.

  He nods.

  I meens it, I says. We got to get back to work sharpish lyke an we ent never talkin bout it again. Got it?

  He nods.

  If Mouse runs off again, you lets him. Got that too?

  He nods, eyes wyde.

  I pats his head fore he goes. Got to keep an eye on Tobe see. Got to keep an eye out for the youngest.

  I catch my breath fore I heads back down to Jack. Rules is rules. Things is how they is. Dunt step out o lyne. Keep yore head down. Work hard an yule get yore reward. I repeets em to myself as I gets back to work an Jack kicks me in the shins for bein layte.

  Mayker protekt me, I works so hard the rest o the day that tis lyke I fayre dreamd that man Rickerbee. I durnt dare think o it so I puts it to the back o my mind. There ent no Rickerbee, I says over an over. There ent no shadow man
. But there is. I kno there is. I seen em both.

  I prays xtra hard to the Mayker to sayve us all.

  Arfter work on payday, the men washs an gets to mess fast as they can. Sometimes tis the fastest you see em. All dashin an jolly an hungree for the taste o beer. Nicholson, Skillen an Jack is larfin an slappin each uvver on the back as they dryes off arfter wash, fired up by thawt o beer. Will an Joe are mewt as they always is but there eyes are fayre lit up. When we washes by the layke, I keeps my eyes out for Rickerbee by the pumps but I kno he ent workin in this part o the mine as I ent never clappd eyes on him afore today. Still I looks tho. Just in cayse.

  Thomas dos not partayke o the drinkin an us youngs arnt alloud anyways. I dunt lykes the smell o it neether. Maykes me feel kweasee. Devlin must be nearly old enuff to go but he stays wi Thomas an us. Sted o drinkin beer, we sit in caban insted where the men sits an eats their lunch. Tis lyke a shack in the rocks where a dozen men or so can rests a while but us youngs ent normally alloud in. Caban has benches see, nycer than mess taybles. Tis snug in there too, warm in the belly o the mine. I sees Tobe clasp Mouse tyte to him in his pockit so not even Thomas knos hes there.

  Payday tis the only time we is alloud in caban, when no folk knos an none can see us. Thomas tells us storyes an sometimes we maykes one up together, the three o us, magicks it up out o thin air. Tales o draguns an witches an cooldrons an potent brews lyke the beer they drinks above our heads two levels up.

  Today is diffrent tho cos he is here. I wish Devlin wuld go away, leeve us alone. I wish he ent never come here. Thomas is my frend, myne an Tobes, an I dunt want to shayre him. The three o us are tyte see, tyter than a not on a string. An since he arrived, I feels things unravellin slowly slowly lyke a bootlayce comin all undun. I think o what me an Tobe saw earlier, the man in the shadows, an I shudders.

  I dunt want to mayke up a story when Devlins here. What if he larfs at Tobe? What if he is meen to us, bout our storyes? Maybe he thinks there babeeish. I sit there wi arms crossed an eyes narrowd, silent.

  Letters an storyes are important, Thomas says. So as you can read an ryte an share yore views an ideas an thawts.

  Why ent you in caban normally? Devlin asks Thomas an we all go choired for a bit.

  Thomas lykes to shayre his learnedness, I says firm lyke. Thass all. Which is harf the trooth at leest. Thomas is diffrent too see. He says to me once that he had to fyte his way out o trubble a few times when he first cayme. Speke wi his fists on akkount o the fact men looked at him diffrent cos o his darker skin. We ent never spoke about it since. I ent talkin bout it to Devlin thass for shore. Thomas says nothin for a bit, deep in thawt, an then he starts tellin a story, lyke he dos. Once upon a time they always starts. An then a story lyke the Maykers Prayer but longer an, Mayker forgive me, better an all.

  Todays is about three children wi our naymes – Tobe, Newt an Devlin. Three children lost in a forest, deep in the deep dark woods wi branches twistin an twirlin above em. In the distance, a gingerbred house, mayde o sweete things, lykes o which I can barely magine. Shuggar twisted into canes lyke a walkin stik an a thing calld choclit, dark brown sweetniss that dos melt in the mouth. I licks my lips an my mouth waters at the thawt o it. I wypes it wi the end o my sleeve.

  A witch lives in the sweete house, says Thomas, but she pretends to be a nyce lady an tells the three children to come in. A bite to eat an a rest, she says but then she locks em up, keys an chains, for her own supper.

  She plans to eat em? says Tobe eyes wyde wi horror.

  Devlin smirks at this poynte an I want so hard to wype it from his fayce I almost bursts but Thomas, he carnt abyde violence these days so I sayves my temper an shoves it back into a small angry ball deep down inside.

  Corse the story ends up as Thomass storyes always do wi a happy endin. The three o us kills the witch, throws her onto the fire an woosh she disappeers in smoke up the chimnee, burns to little smitty bits o soot an we lives happly ever arfter in her house.

  I carnt see me an Devlin livin happly ever arfter even wi Tobe there to keep the peace but I keeps my trap shut an stay silent.

  Why dyou mayke up these storyes? says Devlin. Why dyou mayke em up? Theyre fayree tales for ones smaller than these.

  Thomas turns to him, thawtful lyke. It passes the time, he says. Tis tales o dreams an hopes. What is man if he cannot dream? If he cannot use his maginayshun to brayke free o a fysical cayge? What is man if he cannot hope?

  Devlin looks down, lyke hes ashaymd. Thomas has wyse words that he pores out, sometimes I dunt understand em all but I lykes listernin to the words flow from him lyke the small waterfall at the back o the layke.

  Too soon our time in caban is over an we traypse back to dorm where the beerfilld men snore an snort lyke wild pigs. Nothin waykes em when theyre lyke this. Thomas says theyve drunk their earnins away, tomorros piss.

  I lies in bed tryin not to think about Devlin. One, two, three, fore beds down. I wishes him away, eyes tytely shut.

  I thinks o the shadow man too, who he is an where he is now.

  Tis alryte, I tell myself. That Rickerbee fella, he must o bin up to no good, tis why they was talkin bout banishment an the lyke. If you keeps yore head down an works hard, all will be well.

  I listerns to the splutters o the men an the burps an farts an stinks comin from em til sleep finally swamps me.

  Jack has a sore head which puts him in a ryte bad mood all day. Too much beer is no good for a man. When I holds the riddle out for him to shovel the coal into, his hands are unsteddy, shayke shaykin. I works as fast as I can but nothin I do is good enuff for him. He mutters an tutters under his breath as we puts the basket on the tram, all crammd full o blackest coal.

  We fits a few more big peeces on top, loadin it up as much as we can fore I sets off pushin it up up up to the main rolley roads. Tis hard work, harder today for our layte nyte storyes in caban maykes me sleepy, an once or twyce I almost loses my footin. If I did Id be slip slydin back down the slope an skwish skwashd by all the coal, buryd in a hole mound o it. Some do fall, evry now an then, get broke or suffokayted or the lyke but tis the Maykers way. Part o his grand plan.

  I prays again to the Mayker arfter I nearly slips. Let today not be my day, let today not be the day I joins you in the skyes. Let today be a day I ends sayfely sleepin in my bed, not a day for being skwashd or crunchd or maymd.

  At the main road, I delivers the coal. Pulls the winches an pulley down, clamp clamp clamp on each fore corners an hoist hoist it up an over to the side where some uvver one will tayke it up onto the next level an so on up an up an up who knos how many more til the tip top o the mine an to the uvver side o the world.

  As I emptees the basket, I think o the uvver side. O blue skyes an sunshyne an the smell o grass. I kno these things eggsist. I saw em. Afore. All them years ago. But they feels so far away now. As far away an unreal as the storyes Thomas dos tell.

  The last bit o coal falls out an I hoiks the basket down, loosens the clamp clamp clamps an then off I goes back down to where Jacks probly in a fowler mood than when I left him.

  When I gets back, hes bin sick. Stinkin an slippy. I tells him to go back to bed an Ill cover for him but that just maykes him more cross. So I shuts my ears an eyes to him an carryes on workin. This new seam is further away from the main rolley road so each basket taykes longer to push up to it. The last seam I was doin twentee to thirtee trips a day up an back but I struggle wi fiffteen today. None o us are at our best arfter Beer Munday.

  Tis a time when axidents happen. But none do today. Leest, none in this part o Bearmouth anyhows.

  Devlin has startd joinin us for our letters. Mayker giv me payshuns. He says he can read an ryte anyways but that tis good praktiss an he can help too. I ent wantin his help so I sits as far away as I can which is not too far in trooth as spayce is tyte down here in our little dead end nook we sits in. Tobe sits ryte by him an Devlin is diffrent wi him. Softer somehow. Praps thats how the Devil gets people round to his ways, b
y pretendin to be nyce.

  Yore letters are comin along nycely, says Thomas full o prayse for me.

  Pleased, I smyles at him, a smyle that goes from my tippy tose to the top o my head. I catch Devlin lookin at me too an he smyles back soft as a kitten an I feels all upset in my stomarck lyke sick but not an I feels the heat o embarrassment flush on my fayce as I looks away.

  I herd him whisperin to Thomas see as Tobe an I were layte for letters today, I herd him. Ernest, choired. Intense. An Thomas sayin, no no. Choiredly lyke. Almost under his breath but I got good hearin, better than most. I once herd a tiny beetall when it got lost an wanderd up the walls o our dorm. Bryte grene it was lyke grass on a summers day. It dint last long tho, twas gone within a day to only Mayker knos where. Still, Thomas is as calm as usual so whatever Devlin is up to, Thomas is resistin it an that maykes me feel sayfer.

  I grabs Thomas the next day, as we heads to the wash at end o shifts.

  Cayreful o him, I says. Cayreful o you kno who. He trubbles me Thomas an Im scared for you.

  Thomas larfs at me. I can look arfter myself Newt, he says. The boys nothin to be scared o. Hes more scared hisself than he has words for. An hes lonely too. He could do wi anuvver frend. One is never enuff. He pats me on the head lyke when I was really small.

  He wants me to be frends – frends wi him. Tis what Thomas meens. But I carnt. Not arfter I seen wi my own eyes how thawts an talk gets you into trubble wi the lykes o the shadow man. I carnt be frends wi him arfter how he mayde me feel when he smyled at me. Not arfter his talk o dayngeruss things. Revolushun an the lyke. An his nayme too. It carnt be a coincidence. Devil. In. Can it?

  Mayker sayve us. Hes gone. Devlin. Gone. Whisht. Lyke we all magind him in the first playce.

  When I waykes up this mornin, his bed is emptee. I thawt at first he did go to the layke to wash or to piss but we normally only washs arfter shifts at nyte when we is all filthy dusty lyke from the coal. We dunt wash in the mornins. Wayste o time see. When the uvvers waykes, they goes lookin for him, shout shoutin his nayme. He ent in the mess hall for gruel. Not by the layke, not nowhere.