by Liz Hyder
As a rule, Jack dunt talk much whilst we work – I jokes to Tobe that he sayves it all up for meal times, lyke savin coinage. As if he has an allokayshun o words for each day and he durnt go over it. Today is diffrent tho.
That lad, he says shaykin his head whilst we loads up the basket again. That lads got to watch what he says. Dunt he realise about blasfeemin and the lyke?
He dunt wayte for a response. He never dos.
Thing is, Jack says, the Mayker sets evrythin up, tis his world, the lykes o us are mayde in his image. Lyke the prayer says, he sent us down into the dark Earf to atone for the sins o our forefarvers and muvvers. And I ent seen a sine to chaynge that have you? he says, not waytin for an answer.
He gotta be cayreful, Jack carryes on. You dunt be challengin the Maykers words cos all yule get is trubble.
I sniffs to myself. Trubble is what I see in my head when I think o Devlin. Trubble and a stirrin that I ent felt the lyke o afore.
The baskets soon filld again and off I goes pushin it up and up and up all the ways to the top. My own breath fills the air around me as I puff up, push pushin til it evens out at long last.
I tryes and shut it all out. Tryes to think nothin but I carnt remember what I thawt about durin these times afore he cayme. Maybe I thawt about birds and grass and learnin letters but now I think o his brused fayce. Think o his question. Simple simple word but one I ent askd myself in years. Why?
Evry footstep I hear maykes it echo in my head. Why?
And his fayce is in my eyes, in my thawts I imagine the bruses gone and those coal black eyes that seem to see throo most evrythin lookin at me in my minds eye. Why is things as they are? Why is it so spensive to go back up to the uvver side? Why dos I pay so much for my boots when they dunt last me long enuff?
I tryes and stops my thawts from wandrin but tis hard to rain em in. Tis heethenish things that whirl round my head. Things are how they are, I says to myself over and over. Things are how they are. Tis how it is. Tis the rules.
But my brayne dos play tricks on me. Cos whenever I manidge to get my thawts in a lyne lyke, I hears that one word again. Why. Why.
To distrakt myself I go throo my letters, spell evry word I kno back and forth back and forth, until I tramps him out o my head. Til I push him ryte out o my thawts and back where he belongs.
I wish he ent ever come back.
Tobe and I sits and waytes and waytes for Thomas but he dunt come. So we praktisses our letters ourselves. Countin throo the alphabet lyke Thomas showd us. We dunt lyte a candul as trooth be told we are both a bit short on em so we sits there in the dark recitin lyke parrots.
A is for arfterdamp
B is for basket
C is for candul
D is for – an there he is back in my head again til I forces him out and remembers the Deep, the Deep o the Mine. D is for deep. D is for deep.
E is for eye o the pit
F is for firedamp
G is for gruel
H is for hurriers
I is for inundayshun lyke when water floods part o the mine
J is for jack roll, one o our hand winches to lift up the baskets
K is for knuk, the corner o the coalfayce
L is for lyte
M is for Mayker
N is for nyte shifts
O is for overseer lyke what Mr Sharp is
P is for pony
Q is for question when tis spelled ryte
R is for rolley road
S is for seams o coal
T is for tubs
U is for undergrawnd what we all are
V is for ventilayshun
W is for workin. And also for why which is a question I ent allowin myself to ask.
X is for xplosions tho Thomas says that ent spelled ryte but tis how I remembers it
Y is for youngs
Z is for Zebediah what is the nayme o the Master so evryone says but we ent alloud to call him that.
We says it over and over til even Tobe gets tired an cross and he dos normally have the payshuns o the Mayker hisself.
When we sees Thomas at end o shift by the pumps gettin clene I asks him where he was and he says he had bisness to attend to. That meens nothin as Thomas ent got no bisness but it meens mouth buttoned up and no tellin whilst uvvers are listernin.
But Im proved wrong on that front cos he dunt say nothin to me about it at mess, not in dorm nor for the whole next day when he turns up for letters lyke nothin ever happend. And I knos then that I has to let it go but I sees his eyes flicker over to Devlin more than once and I carnt help but wonder.
Walsh gets into a fyte wi Jack today at mess. It happens so fast, they was at each uvvers throtes fore any o us could stop em. Thomas and Skillen pulled em off each uvver in the end and the Davidsons held the uvvers back who wantd to join in, Devlin helpin em too tho he is fayre keepin his head down since that nyte o askin why.
Walsh see, he ent a popyoular man, hes a bully and theres plenty o uvvers who wunt mind a pop at him and all. But Will and Joe, the Davidsons see, they are fayre as fayre as Jack says and they ent wantin all out fytin in the mess speshully cos not evryone had eaten yet and we ent never havin enuff food to wayste none o it.
Walshs nose was bleedin crimson and he was glarin ryte at Jack as if he could murder him just by lookin. Jack is grinnin at him pleased as punch as he come off better out o it but Walshs look is dirty lyke and I wuldunt dares be on the wrong side o him I swear it.
Better watch yore back from now on Coombes, says Walsh throo gritted teeth and Jack larfs at him.
Watch yore own self, Walshie, he says. You ent a popyoular man down here you ent so if anyone needs to keep eyes and ears clene and peeld for trubble its yore self man. Jack larfs again. Ive had better fytes from young Tobe here than Ive had from you.
Walshs eyes flicker over me and Thomas to Tobe and back to Jack. Hes taykin us in, rememberin us out o all the men in the mess. Rememberin our fayces. Thomas pulls me closer to him never lettin his eyes off Walsh.
It ent our fyte but it seems lyke we all mayde an enemee today.
Jack says he was defendin us. That Walsh had been eyin me up o all people sayin what a pritty young thing I was and smirkin in that way he has. I ent shore if Jacks tellin the trooth as sometimes he is one to tell a tall tale. But neverless I listerns to Thomas layters on the way back to dorm when he says steer cleer o Walsh.
I had been doin, I says, but it ent my fawlt they got into a fyte.
Thomas nods but he taykes his hand then and holds it on my fayce on one side, gentle lyke. You are a preshus thing, he says. You are a preshus thing Newt, lyke my own chylde. He smyles and his fayce lytes up. He ent ever calld me that afore now.
Lyke his own chylde. I hold those words close to me as if theyll protekt me from all things bad.
I dunt kno what to say back to him so I just smyles and pats his hand insted. As we heads back to dorm, I feel an arm on my sholder and tis Devlin, he nods at me and tis the first time in an ayge he has lookd at me strayte in the fayce. I nod back and he lets go and heads back to dorm ahead o me and I ent shore rytely what to think.
Thomas misses our letters again today. Despyte all that stuff about bein lyke his own chylde he cleerly ent that interested in keepin myne and Tobes educayshun goin proper.
I ent seen him and Devlin talkin direktly but Im certain tis where he is and Im cross too. Hes our frend. Ours. Me and Tobe have known him for years whilst Devlin ent been here more than a month all added up.
And Im worryd too. Worryd about Thomas – what happend to those men that was found in the layke that time. What happend to that Rickerbee bein beaten and banishd. If Thomas and Devlin are up to somethin they could end up lyke that an all.
At end o shift at wash time, we strips down to nothinness by the pumps and I keeps my eyes out but Thomas ent there. Devlin is deep in the kayoss o bodies comin off shift. But then I sees him. Walsh. Eyein me up as he suds hisself down. Theres a tattoo over his back, black as coal, cu
rve o a wolfs fayce lookin back at me. Walsh smyles at me so I look elsewhere an mayke shore Tobes fayce is clene for mess. Jack smacks Walsh on the back lyke theyre the best o frends now but they ent and Walsh has that look in his eye lyke a hungree dog thatll tayke yore arm off in a single bite.
Thomas dunt show up til mess has startd. He dos have a haunted look about him. Lyke the wayte o all Bearmouth is on his sholders. When he taykes his playce on our bench, he glances at Devlin and I sees him shayke his head a little.
Where you been all day? I says. Me and Tobe missd you at letters.
I was uvverwyse occupyed, he says. Sorry to you both but it carnt be helped.
Where was you then? says Tobe and Thomas smyles.
Tryin to do the impossible, he says.
Jack eavesdrops see and he sticks his beek in.
What you been doin Thomas? he says grinnin. Tryin to get rid o our new frend Walshy eh?
Thomas shaykes his head. Now ent a playce for tellin, he says. Wayte til dorm and Ill tell all.
Jack is as intreegd as the rest o us so we eats up greedily and fast lyke so we can get back.
Thomas checks nowun else is behind us as we heads into dorm and then heeves the wooden panel in playce that we use as a door on rare occayshuns to keep the drafts out when tis blowin up a gayle around the tunnels.
Jack rubs his hands lyke Thomas is goin to tell him the best story he dun ever hear but Thomas maykes us all sit first. He lytes a candul and playces it on the floor so we can all sees each uvver. Our shadows flicker round us on the whitewashd walls.
I askd for more coinage for us all, he says and I see him glance at Devlin when he says it. I asked for more coinage cos I see all o us are hungree men. And I see that all o us have boots that dunt fit too well.
I feels him lookin at myne and then he carryes on.
I askd Mr Sharp for a payrise for us all and he sed it werent his bisness to be able to agree such a thing an that Id have to see Mr Johnson.
Jack larfs at this poynt. You dunt do it, did ya Thomas lad? See the Master hisself, did you? Boys got balls o steel to be askin Mr Sharp for anythin, surprised he dunt just cuff you round the fayce.
Thomas cleers his throte. I askd very nycely, he says.
Nyce dunt get you nowhere in this world, snorts Jack. Do it lads?
Skillen snorts too as dos Nicholson but the Davidsons stay quiet as mice.
But nyce got me a meetin wi the Master, says Thomas and we all goes silent again.
The lytes in Mr Sharps office where we met, they did hurt mine eyes they were so bryte. But I can confirm that the Master is a tall man, says Thomas, lyke they say he is. Taller than any o us and he wears a tall hat as high as his head again.
We bends in and listerns xtra cayreful now as none o us has ever seen the Master, hes lyke a mythikal creeture. Lyke a unikorn or a gryffyn.
But he is a man mayde o sturn stuff, says Thomas. And he thinks we are all payd well enuff for what we do.
Jack snorts. Tis the Maykers will to pay us this amount. Tis always been the sayme Thomas, haggers been payd sixtee since long afore I come to Bearmouth. Sayme rayte sayme job wi a bonuss for xtra haulin, thass how it is.
Why? I hear a voyce say and am startld to find it cayme from within me.
Cos thats how it is Newt, says Jack softly. Tis just how it is. How tis always been, how twill always be. Things is as they is.
But in the Maykers Prayer it says he will send a sine, I find myself sayin. How will we kno when we see it?
Jack reetches out and rubs my head lyke Im fore or fyve years old. Bless ya Newt, he says, tis not for youngs to consern their selfs over. It ent happenin in our lifetimes tis for shore.
I stays silent but my eyes drift to Devlin and he looks back at me for a moment, those coal black eyes borin down at me.
Our boots are threads, our clothes fall apart, our canduls are rasshund and yet we work our soles away six days out o severn, says Thomas. Wi out us Bearmouth cannot funkshun and yet I ask are we properlee rekompenced?
He leeves it hangin in the air.
I feels my heart beatin in my chest lyke tis goin to burst out, lyke that time I cawt Tobes Mouse and held it close in my hands. Flutter flutter flutter went its little heart til I let it go and gayve it back to Tobe. Here tis. Tis the trubble I was fearin. This is it comin lyke an out o control truck on a rolley road hurtlin hurtlin.
Tis how its always been Thomas, says Jack cayrefullee and slow lyke. I got more years on you and tis how its always been since ever I can remember.
I chews my lips. Ent ryte tho is it? And again I am fayre startld to find it cayme from within me.
Devlin interrupts sudden lyke. Newt spekes trooth. Tis not ryte that we dunt ask these things. This playce is more lyke hell than anywhere I have ever been and yet we do not ask why we are treeted no better than animals.
Thomas jumps in. Where are the sayfety lamps that we were promisd? Why do we pay so much for canduls and clothes when we cannot do our job wi out them?
Have a cayre Thomas, says Jack sharp lyke. This lad here, hes been puttin ideas in yore head from the uvver side. I kno yore a learned man but still. It dunt do well to question the Maykers way.
Tis not the Maykers way, says Devlin. Tis Mr Johnsons way.
I can feel my world crumblin around me and I reetch out my hand and grab Tobes and hold it tyte as I can. I feel his hand tremblin in mine.
Well you ent convincin me is all, says Jack arfter a long silence.
I dunt ask you to, says Thomas. But just think on what Ive sed is all. Think on it as you work yoreself til you are fayre so tired you can barely keep yore eyes open. Til yore boots are worn thin. Sayme goes for all o you, he says lookin round the dorm, eyes on Nicholson and Skillen, eyes on Will and Joe, eyes on me and Tobe lingerin lyke fore he turns to Devlin. Tis all I ask, says Thomas. Carnt say fayrer than that eh.
And wi that he blows out the candul.
Tis Maykers Day the very next day and I feel it around me pricklin lyke heat. The swell o thinkin things preeveeus unthawt o. Heethenish thawts. Dayngeruss thawts. Tis as if we have opend a box not ment for us and none o us wants to admit it.
The day passes in a blur. Thomas is distant wi us all day and Devlin is silent. Jack sings xtra loud at prayer. I hear him bellow in my ear. I mouth the words quietly singin lyke I always do but my heart ent in it. My hands, my arms, they lift and pray, my maw opens and closes as I sing but my head is elsewhere, think thinkin.
The men go to caban and Thomas leeves us.
I want to be on my own for a short while, he says, forgive me. And then he is gone.
I go down to the layke wi Devlin and Tobe but I dunt go in, I sits at the edge hearin em splosh around and I feel sick. Somethin is diffrent. Tis just a Maykers Day lyke any uvver I tells myself over and over. But it ent.
Devlin pulls himself out o the water and sits close by me. I feels the heat from him lyke a cloud. I want to reetch out and touch him but I durnt.
I wunt bite, he says. You kno you can always talk to me, he says. We have more in common than you think.
But I dunt say nothin.
Thank you for the polltiss, he says. When I cayme back and the bruses were bad, I think it helpd.
I dunt rytely kno what to say to him so I just nods. We sits in silence for a bit and arfter a while he gives up and goes back in the layke.
What have you dun? I thinks to myself hearin him splash in the water and tease Tobe. What have you startd?
And I feel lyke I dunt kno nothin no more.
Next mornin tis back to work and Jack dunt say nothin to me all day. Just hacks and hacks at the coalfayce but he dos it wi a speed and a fury I ent seen for a long time. Tis lyke Maykers Day has fired him up somehow.
The rhythm o workin is good for a brayne see. Repeat repeat, yore hands and legs, yore whole body workin as one and yet yore brayne wandrin off in all sorts o direkshuns and wi nowun to stop it. Tis useful for learnin letters and goin over things lyke spellin i
n yore head. Tis not useful when you is tryin to not think o uvver things.
Thinkin is dayngeruss, says Jack to me once. A long time ago that was. But I ent ever forgot it. But I allowes my mind to wander, I let it spread and shift lyke ink spillin on payper.
Why is it so spensive for us to use the lift sharft to travel back up to the uvver side when the lift must in trooth go up and down all the time to tayke the coal out? Why is it we got to pay for the very kwipment we need to work on top o all else?
I rap my own nuckles. It ent no good thinkin things lyke this Newt, I says to myself. Tis a slippry slope. Thomas is a gifted wordsmyth and a learned man to boot and if he carnt be convincin the lykes o the Master for a payrise or nothin no body can.
But it keeps creepin back in my head, creep creep lyke a spyder that wunt go aways no matter how much you tryes to get rid o it. And I thinks bout the coinage I earns and how much Jack earns and yet I works as hard as him and still all o us livin on top o each uvver wurse than Boys ponys.
I pushs it to the back o my brayne and I hum songs to myself in its sted. Songs from Maykers Day and uvvers too. Sometimes at caban the men do sing uvver songs – we hears them sometimes at letters faynte off in the distance. I dunt kno all the words but I knos some o the chewns so I hums them insted to keep my brayne from wandrin. I goes over my letters too, hummin to myself workin out how to spell words I can say but cannot yet write down.
At the top o the rolley road, anuvver fella is there when I arrives. I hears em knokkin about in the dark.
Hello, I says. Cos there ent never normally anyone up here at the sayme time as me.
Hello, I says again but nobody answers me. I dunt lyke it. Tis straynge. People always talks to each uvver when they bumps into a fella body down the mine.
I can hear you, I says tryin to sound confeedent lyke.