Bearmouth

by Liz Hyder

  Jacks reportd him havin gone missin to Mister Sharp. Mr Sharp. Thomas says its spelled lyke that Mr altho only the Mayker knos why.

  But hes gone. Devlin. Vanished lyke the witch up the chimnee in the story from caban. I carnt quite believe it.

  Thomas thinks hes run away. Tis what he says. Maybe thats what they was whisperin about I thinks to myself.

  That nyte I sneeks out when all are abed an I pads choiredly softly lyke a cat to the layke, feelin my way along the wet drip lanes an roads, over the rolley road an I slip slideys over to the layke shore. I durnt dare go in, cayse someones watchin even this layte at nyte an reports me for not payin coinage to dip myself into that cool water, but I watchs an listerns for a while. I listerns out for a body. That sound o somethin hevvy nudgin gainst the edge but there ent nothin just the lappin o water on the rocks. I dangles my fingers in an feel the white fish nibble an suck at em. Ticklin. I breethes in the cool air o the layke an lets it wash over me lyke the water dos.

  We dunt get runaways here. Yore lots yore lot an theres nothin you can do about it. Rules is rules. Tis what Jack an evryone says. We works, we earn. Tis all. Sometimes really little ones cryes an bawles an so on when they starts down here. Cryes about the darkness an the heat an all, cryes thereselves to sleep but when they realise that dunt get em nowhere they stops. I kno I did. I cryed an cryed when I come here Thomas says. I carnt remember last time I cryed now.

  Funny thing is I feels a bit sad bout Devlin in a way. An a bit giltee too. Maybe I got him wrong. Maybe.

  Cos a Devil ent goin to run away is it?

  But a boy myte.

  Time down here is a diffrent thing see. Lyke on the uvver side you sees seesons chaynge, leeves grow bold an grene an fayde to gold an red, then drop off an kurl up an disappeer into sno. But Bearmouth is black. Black an warm an dark an wet an full o coal. All days all weeks all year. Forever an ever. Amen.

  But tis our home see, tis our coal an our darkness an our wetness. An we is all a team. A small team what is part o a bigger team, an a bigger team an the hole mine runs lyke clokkwork wi all o us lyke little cogs. If the trapper dunt open an close his doors, the mine myte suffokayte or blow up from arfterdamp or any such things. An tis the eesiest job in the world but one o the most important. An you have to keep yore ears out all the time see. Rocks fall down so big an sharp they can cut a mans foot clene off his leg. I sees that once. Never wants to see it again an never since lyked goin down that part o the mine. Was known for falls it was an when you see a mans foot parted from him in the time it taykes to breeth in an out, you never wants to see it again an never wants to be in that sayme playce again. Not ever.

  Jack has startd to coff. We all dred it down here. The coff. Hack hack hack, he goes at nyte. An the uvvers get cross. Weve all had it one time or anuvver but this is a bad un. He coffd up bits o black the uvver day at mess. Could see it in the parms o his hands lyke black slime.

  There was an axident today. Two levels up. We all herd the xplosion. Felt the rumbles rippall long the walls an throo our feet. Felt the rattles in our bones, in our rib cayges.

  Thomas says severn were killed. Severn. I count them off on my hands, past one hole hand an onto the uvver. Theres ten beds in our dorm all crammd in, bunk beds up gainst the solid walls all faded whitewash you can scraypes off wi yore nayle. I think how I wuld feel if most o us in here were gon. Wyped out in one swoop. I counts the beds, lower bunks first. Me next to Thomas next to Tobe next to Harrisons ol bed still unfilled, then Gambles old bed at the end where Devlin was til he disappeerd. Then on the bunks above, Jack over me wi Nicholson over Thomas, Skillen over Tobe an the mewt Davidson twins who ent ever sed a word in all the time Ive known em – Will over Harrisons ol bed an Joe over Devlin. Severn men. I imagine them all wyped out in our dorm bar me an Tobe and Thomas an it maykes me feel sick to the belly.

  They says it was a spark from one o the new lamps they bin tryin out on the upper levels. Two lamps they sed, an one was open at the front so the manidger sed. Jack says they only ever has one lamp tween two as they cost so much more than canduls.

  But dead men carnt argyoo, says Thomas.

  An all the men nod saygely.

  Thomas understands xplosivs see. He manidges the openin up o seams on our level. Hes told me bout it many times, tis fayre the most dayngeruss job down a mine. You has to understand the hole feel o the rock, where the coal is headin an then playce yore dynamyte in just the ryte spot, the sweete spot he calls it. Not too much not too little an then you can opens up a new passidgeway to start diggin from. Im still thinkin about all that when Jack pipes up.

  Theres talk o openin up further down in the Deep, says Jack. An he lowers his voyce ryte down. Sendin whats left o the youngs an smalls down to the deepest parts o Bearmouth. Scrapin out more o the earfs crust to send up to the uvver side. Vergin coal they calls it. Preshus stuff but small seams an hard to get at.

  Jack says he wunt let me go wi out a fyte – we is a good team he an me – but he knos an I kno too that there arnt as many o us youngs here as there was. Not arfter last year when there was a huge slip slide cayve in. Well lest sed soonest mended eh. The smalls an youngs are whats needed for narrow seams an small spaces but we is also needed elsewhere in the mine too.

  I dunt sleep that nyte for fear o the Deep. They says tis full o water down there. Black an sinister an evry stroke wi yore mandril splashes it all over you. They says water runs down the roadways an that yore feet are fayre soked throo. They says tis nigh on impossible to tell the coal from the stones an no man is payd to collect stones from a mine.

  I wonders about Devlin too. Is he even alive? Is he wandrin one o the tunnels lost an bleatin lyke a little lamb, starvin an alone? I puts him out o my mind lyke I put the shadow man out o my mind an Rickerbee too. Ent no good thinkin about any o em. Rickerbee ent one o ours. He ent in our group who we sees in mess evryday. Hes from some uvver part o Bearmouth, some uvver mess hall an so I must needs forget about him. What the Mayker ordaynes, the Mayker maykes come troo.

  Jack can be a ryte barstard sometimes but hes still my hagger an I am fond o him in some ways. This morning at gruel I sees the man they calls Walsh at one o the long benches in mess. Hes the one they say was the manidger who says there was two lamps at the xplosion when we all kno that ent troo. I ent seen him before but theyve just changd his shifts round to sayme as ours an I dunt lykes the looks o him trooth be told. Hes tall wi a long narrow fayce an wild ginger hair. His fayce is… Dunno. Somethin meen about it. Proper meen. Piggy lil eyes in a white doe fayce sploshed wi frekkils.

  He stares at Thomas lyke he ent never seen none wi darker skin afore. Praps he ent but starin is rude an Jack says that out loud. Walsh smyles at him but it ent a nyce smyle. Tis a smyle thats a warnin is what it is. We is all black under the coal dust anyways, is what Thomas says. An tis troo. Since I bin down here, weve had Frenchies an men from villidges so far north I ent ever herd o em. But arfter one day down here we are all dark as the nyte. The Mayker dunt cayre bout none o that anyways – if tis yore time to go, he calls you. We is only ever at his beck an call.

  Thing is tho, tis best not to mayke enemees down here. A man can roowin you. They calls it an awkwud man. If you maykes trubble you becomes an awkwud man. An there is many ways o riddin yerself o an awkwud man in a mine see. A few stones added to yore tram in the dark, a playce further away from the rolley road, further to go, further to carry an lift, harder work an fewer returns. Then they labels you layzee even tho you ent an then you ent here any longer. Banishd. Thass how it works.

  Best keeps an eye on that one, says Jack layter. But all o us are glad that Walsh ent tayken up Devlins old bunk or the spare in the corner.

  Keep yore head down an work hard an yule be alryte. Tis what Jack always says. Rules is rules. So tis what I do. Tis what I always do.

  Tobe an Thomas and I (remember, says Thomas – tis spelld ay en dee, it is and, dunt forget the dee) we are back to what we was fore Devlin cayme. Tis
bin (bin wi a double ee says Thomas – been) three days since he vannishd but sometimes I feels lyke I dreamt him. Dreamt that time by the layke wi his splashin and splushin and him so spinky clene and all them bruses. Dreamt him, hot heat next to me in the Maykers Hall.

  But I kno I dunt dream it. Lyke I kno I dunt dream the shadow man neether.

  Thomas sees I need cheerin up so he taykes me and Tobe to see the ponys on Maykers Day sted o swimmin. Arfter prayers, Thomas lytes one o his rare preshus long canduls and leads us down tunnel arfter tunnel down what feels lyke hundreds o passidges to the ponys. I smells em long fore I sees em, fore I hears em.

  Stench o hot hay and hot breath and an earfy smell that is pure animal. Little ponys they are, only as high as Tobe but they is frendly enuff snuggld up in their little whitewashd staybles, chalkbords at the end wi their naymes on. Star. Mayjor. Flash. Bryte. Uvvers too. I trayce my finger across their naymes spellin em out. Tis lyke magick to be able to read and write even as little as I can.

  I only gets to see the ponys once in a blue moon whenere that is but I loves em. I digs my fingers into there croppd manes and presses my fayce to them breethin in that hot musty pony smell. They whispers and whickers to each uvver in horse talk which I carnt understand but Boy who looks arfter the horses – Boy McAllister tis his nayme but evryone just calls him Boy – Boy unnerstands em. He can talk to the ponys. Whisper to em, cokes em into what he wants em to do.

  Ent it crool to keep em down here? I says lyke I always do as I run my fingers throo one o the ponys manes and Boy eyes me.

  No more than keepin us down here, he says chewin on a strand o hay.

  Do they dreams o fields and trees and fresh grass? I says.

  Boy shrugs. Ent no tellin what they dreams o. Spose we all dreams o that one day eh.

  He pats Mayjor, a white dappley one wi grey circles on his back lyke someones drawn all over him. Hes my favourite is Mayjor. He snuffles up to you wi his pink velvet nose, breethes all whispry and tickly in yore ear.

  I stays there as long as I can. Eekin it out, Thomas calls it, fore we have to go back. Boy dunt leeve the ponys if he can help it. Thomas says Boy prefers the ponys to people. Maybe he dos. Carnt say I blaymes him.

  We gets two proper meals evry day in mess. Two. Tee double yoo and o lyke a round mouth. Why theres a double yoo in a word when you carnt see it or hear it I dunt rytely kno but Thomas says tis so, so it must be troo.

  In the mornings we have gruel and then arfter, when we is washd and clene arfter a long day workin, we have meet and potaytoes. Boiled meet and boiled potaytoes. Tis how it is evryday. Sometimes the meet and tatties ent very hot but I lykes it better then. Tis warm Bearmouth, see, proper warm lyke and warm food just maykes a body sweat more.

  I herd tale once o three men who died aways in a single day due to lack o water cos they sweated all the moysture out o their own bodies. All o it. Imagine that. So I never eats hot food when tis really hot. Ent good for you see.

  Anyways, them two meals are both in the mess hall. Long big benches, long big taybles and evryone sits wi the uvver fellas from their dorm. Tis harf full cept on Maykers Day cos o the shifts when evryone from our part o the mine is all togevver in the mess hall. Tis a twentee fore hower operayshun sayve on Maykers Day is the mine. So theres our shifts see, daytimes and the uvver ones at nyte. Or coud be the uvver way round tho givern none o us sees daylyte.

  We all gets givern a peece o bred for lunch what me and Tobe eats when we goes over our letters wi Thomas. Rappd up in payper is the bred and you got to keep it clene tuckd away in yore pockit else the rats and mice steels it from you. Tobe tucks it in his pockit wi Mouse in to keep him silent. I think Thomas knos about Mouse wi his sharp eyes and learnedness and all, but he ent sed nothin so maybe he dunt. Tobe keeps Mouse in a box under his bed during mess and at nytes and he ent run away since that first time. Our bred taystes stale most days but it fills the gap and tis better than nothin. I keeps myne close in my shirt pockit nyce and snug next to my little tin o matchiss for canduls.

  I sees Walsh again at mess today. Flicker flicker in the lyte o the canduls reflektin back off the whitewashd walls. They keeps sayin weel have lectrick down this part o the mine in dew corse but I ent holdin my breath on that one. Parantly theres lectrick further up, beyond the Maykers Hall, but they ent worked out how to bring it this far down.

  Walsh eyes me but I sees him as his eyes fall on Tobe. I dunt lyke it. I feels funny. But theres nowt I can do so I sits and eats my meets and tatties and I stays choired.

  Quiet, says Thomas. Kew yoo eye ee tee. Anuvver stewpid spelling. It dunt mayke sense. But Thomas says thats how it is so it must be troo. Tis a rule, Thomas says. And rules is rules as we all knos.

  Tewsday nyte. We heads back to dorm arfter evenin mess and a shock awaytes us. Mayker sayve us all. Devlin is back.

  His fayce is blues and blacks all down one side and swollen too. One eye puffd up so much he carnt be able to see out o it. He says nothin as he lies in his bunk.

  Nothin.

  Hes been returnd is all, says Jack. Runaways get brawt back. Fact that is. He says it loud so Devlin carnt help but hear.

  Thomas tells me that I tryd to run away once, when I first cayme here.

  I says nothin to Devlin. But I eyes him.

  I never thawt Id clap eyes on him again to tell the trooth. But here he is. As real as me. Not a dream arfter all.

  Im not shore if Im not a little bit pleased hes back. Just a little trooth be told.

  But I also feels somethin else too. Forbodin, Thomas calls it. Tis what I feels deep inside.

  A hole week has gone past. No, says Thomas. Whole. Double yoo haitch oh ell and ee. Whole. I carnt be standin why these double yoos, I tells him. They ent makin sense. Silent letters poppin up here and there lyke a test o a bodys payshuns. Mayker sayve me.

  Anyways, a whole week has gone since Devlin was returnd and he still ent sed a word. Thomas has tryd to talk to him many a time but he just turns his head away. I offerd him a polltiss I mayde for him, a payste to help wi the brusin but he just took it in silence wi a nod o thanks but no words. The bruse on his fayce has startd to chaynge from black to blue grene. He dunt even come to letters wi us no more neether. We only sees him at meals and in dorm. He keeps hisself to hisself and he dunt even mayke eye contact.

  Thomas ent givin up tho. He says to me and Tobe, you have to try, you have to keep tryin and that Devlin, or poor lad as he keeps callin him, needs soothin and simpathee.

  We ent very good at those things down here. You got to be tuff to get bys down here, tuff as ol boots.

  Tho I always think it should be tuff as new boots. Boots are spensive mind, but we got to pays for them out o our wayges. Sayme old. Myne are pinchin and twinchin at the tose but I durnt get anuvver pair cos o coinage costs. It ent worth it til I gets trooly desperat.

  Devlin needs to tuff up, says Jack. Life o a Bearmouth boy is a hard one but tis the Maykers way. He spouts stuff lyke this at nyte sometimes when we is all abed and waytin for sleep to tayke us away.

  The Mayker mayde the mines, mayde evry one o us, mayde the world, he says. The Mayker shaypes our lives, our work, our evry livin breethin moment, says Jack in his boomin voyce.

  Amen, we all whisper, sayve Devlin who says nothin not a peep. Thomas blows the lyte out.

  Just as Im driftin off, theres a voyce in the dark. Devlin.

  What about Mr Sharp?

  Why by my sole, I fear the boys tung is still lodged in his head arfter all, says Jack and he larfs. Why bless me lad, what about Mr Sharp?

  Who put him in charge – the Mayker? says Devlin.

  Mr Sharp was poynted to his role lyke by the Master, says Jack.

  And the Master. Who gayve him his role? says Devlin.

  Jack ponders this. I hears him thinkin it throo in his head. Crunchin his thawts lyke pebbles. I stays silent, listernin.

  Why he inherited it dunt he? The Maykers way that is.

  There ent nothin bu
t silence.

  And then Devlin just says one word. Why?

  Jack larfs to hisself. Why lad? Why? Well tis for the Mayker to answer that not for the lykes o us.

  And Devlin says it again. Why?

  Jack turns on him lyke a large rat on a small un. No larfter now, all seeriuss.

  Now then lad, no thinkin o heethenish thawts in yore head. The Maykers way tis the Maykers way and tis all there is to it. All our playces are ordayned, from the smallest creeture to the graytest human mind. Tis all the Maykers grand plan ent it?

  We all say amen, bar Devlin.

  Why?

  Such a simple word is why. I ent sed it in a long while. Not since I first cayme here when evryone asks that question. But tis been so long since we had a new lad in the dorm none o us have been askin.

  I feels the uvvers fall asleep around me. Snorin and snufflin lyke old hedghogs but I carnt sleep. All I can think o is that word goin round and round lyke a spinnin coin up on one edge. Round and round. Why? Why?

  I tryes and skwashes it, skwishin it flat in my thawts. I turns over in bed, turnin and turnin tryin to get comftable but my brayne wunt stop goin over and over why why til I carnt keep my eyes open no more. Why. Why. Why.

  Mayker protekt me. Mayker protekt us all.

  Today is a bad day. Im so fayre worn out that I ent as sharp as usual nor as swift neether.

  Up on the rolley road when I loosen the clamps, the basket nearly falls ryte on me. Mayker preserve me. It ent that hevvy trooth be told since tis empteed an all but it gives me a fayre fryte. Maykes me kno that I ent focusin proply on the job at hand. I stands stock still for a moment just holdin my breath. And then big deep breath in, count to three and off I go back down to the pits o hell where Jack waytes.