Bearmouth

by Liz Hyder

  Mayker protekt us. Why Newt, he says, why move it at all?

  And I fayce the choyce o grassin up Nicholson and tellin the trooth or lyin. But whats one lie more now? I thinks.

  Cayse o spyes is what, I says. Cos the Master offerd me coinage for spyin so whos to say he ent offerd someone else the sayme eh, I says.

  You should o askd me, he says, growlin.

  Im sorry Thomas, I says in the smallest voyce I can muster and he nods.

  I thawt I had been discoverd, he says. That we were undun.

  Im sorry Thomas, I says. I was thinkin o sayfe guardin all o us see.

  Alryte, he says. Tis alryte. But you must never do it again.

  I nod. Corse, I says. Sorry.

  He ruffles my hair. Tis alryte Newt. But you must ask permishun eh. If we carnt trust each uvver in the dorm, who can we trust?

  I nods. I kno, I says. Thinkin o how close Nicholson myte o come to xposin us and how we carnt trust anyone at all.

  But tho Thomas believes in the Mayker wi blind fayth lyke, he is also the most learned man I kno and altho I think the plan to creayte a sine is a good one, as dos Devlin, I do so want to ask Thomas about it.

  I resist and resist but I carnt stop myself. I tells him about creatin a sine ourselvs, layter on when tis just the three o us.

  Thomas is not angry wi us. Tis far wurse, he is disappoyntd.

  Tis heethenish, Thomas says. The Mayker will see your thawts, tis a terriball thing to do. If you were to get cawt or tell anyone else you wuld get most severely punnishd for it. Mayker protekt us, what were you thinkin? he says, sadness in his eyes. And how did you think to creayte a sine? he asks.

  Praps wi some o your dynamyte, I whispers, lookin at the ground. A bang or an xplosion or the lyke.

  You myte o killd yourselves, Thomas says. And for what?

  For the chance to allow men to escaype and to free them, says Devlin.

  Tis heethenish, says Thomas.

  Tis a way out, I says. Besides, why was you puttin the dynamyte to one side eh?

  Tis diffrent, says Thomas. Tis for emergencies, cayse we need to fyte back.

  This is fytin back, I says. Tis xactly that.

  Thomas shaykes his head. Tis a last resort Newt, tis what it is. When all talkin is dun and there ent no more to say.

  You dint get too far wi the Master wi talkin, I says but Thomas dunt agree.

  I will tayke the dynamyte back myself, he says. And hide it somewhere else.

  No, I says. I wunt tayke it wi out askin, tis why I told you about the plan see. Cos I needed your blessin.

  Well you carnt have it, he says. Im sorry Newt but tis a step too far and you ent knowin xactly what youre doin wi it. No. I will hide the dynamyte, he says. Somewhere else.

  When Im alone wi Devlin on our way back to work, he is fayre angry wi me for tellin Thomas about the sine.

  I wantd his blessin, I says. Tis all. He dunt want us to do it and fayres fayre but that dunt meen we ent goin to do it see. Tis just I wuld have lyked him to help us. It dunt matter anyways, I says. We ent goin to have the energy to put any proper plan together til arfter we are back in our old playce in the mine. And we myte o thawt o somethin else by then.

  What if that dunt happen tho? says Devlin. What happens if we ent tayken back?

  One more week, I says thinkin o Nicholson. And if not, we go ahead wi somethin anyways.

  It dunt even tayke one more week tho as the next day at mess arfter work on the Tewsday, Mr Sharp tells us that we are to be moved back to the mine proper from the next Munday.

  You ent producin the amounts that the Master wants down there so we is movin you back, he says, sniffin at us. The Master wants to close down that part o the mine arfter all, tis cleer to him now that the coal be mostly gone from there see.

  And thats that. Just a few words from Mr Sharp and we is back to where we were.

  Fore more days then, says Jack. Fore more days is all, then tis Maykers Day and we is all back to where we was. See Newt, he says, work hard and tis rewarded. Tis a lessun for you too Devlin, all this talk o nonsense. See, what gets us back in the good books is towin the lyne and workin as hard as we can.

  Devlin nods lyke hes listernin.

  Corse Jack, he says. You been here the longest so you got more years on us.

  Devlin catches my eyes and smyles at me and I feels all warm inside.

  New start on Munday, Devlin says and I nods at him.

  New start, I says.

  Tis our last day as awkwud men when the axident happens. The xplosion fayre goes throo me and Jack as I fills up the basket wi the coal hes chippin out. The roof o the mine shudders and judders above us and bits o rock fall down on us. We croutch low, fayces down, holdin our heads til it settles.

  Mayker sayve us, says Jack. What in Maykers nayme was that?

  But Im alreddy runnin see, runnin runnin up to the rolley road. Cos I kno Thomas and Nicholson ent plannin no xplosions this mornin.

  I ent shore quite where they is in the mine so I stops for a moment to get my breath back, but I see lytes flick flickrin down in the distance down to the far left and I hears Nicholson shoutin for help.

  Help help, he says and tis gettin louder when I sees him runnin towards me. Eyes white, wyde open, blood runnin down one blacknd cheek.

  We needs the stretcher, we needs the stretcher, he says. Tis Thomas, Newt, tis Thomas.

  I ent hearin else more then as I pushs past Nicholson and runs back down in the direkshun he cayme from.

  I dunt see Thomas at first, tis a wall o coal I come to wi a small candul flick flickrin off the wall and then I sees him, harf trappd in the wall, crushd by a support beam cross his middle, pinnin him down to the ground.

  Thomas, I says. Thomas.

  I runs to him, croutchin by him, and I listerns quietly but his breath is all raggd and tis cleer that he dos find it paynful to talk.

  Thomas, I says. Tis alryte. Nicholson is gettin the stretcher, twill be fast as anythin and we will get help and—

  He dunt let me finish tho.

  Newt, he says, crokin lyke. Newt listern to me. Tis important.

  Im listernin, I says. Im listernin I promiss Thomas.

  I ent maykin it out o here.

  I skweeze his hand.

  You will Thomas you will. Tis but a moment and the stretcher will be here and—

  No Newt, he says. Let me say what I must.

  I wypes my eyes but my tears drip drip onto his sleeve.

  He holds my hand tyte.

  You must get out o here, he says. Start a new life far away. Please Newt promiss me.

  I will try, I says. I will, I promiss but tis alryte Thomas you will come too.

  No Newt, he says. I carnt be comin wi you. The Mayker is comin for me see.

  He strokes my fayce, cuppin my cheek in his warm hand.

  Thomas, I says sniffin. Thomas dunt leeve me.

  The dynamyte is still under Tobes bed where you hid it, he whispers. I ent moved it. You needs must do what you feel is ryte. He holds my hand tyte. I will always be in your heart, he says slowly lyke as if he is strugglin to stay awayke.

  I sob and sob and kiss his hand and hold it so so tyte close to me.

  He turns his eyes to look at the candul flick flickrin.

  Look Newt, he whispers, tis just lyke a star in the nyte sky.

  The candul flick flickers and then Thomas dos give a large sigh as if the wayte o the world was lifted off o him and I see from his eyes that the spark has gone out o him.

  Thomas? I says but he ent hearin nothin no more.

  The lyte flickers and then the candul gives a last puff o smoke fore goin out too.

  I sits there in the dark, hand held tyte tytely around Thomass til I hears Nicholsons footsteps behind me wi Devlin and Jack.

  Tis too layte, I says sniffin lyke. Tis too layte. He is gone.

  All is lost.

  I am undun.

  Thomas is dead.

  I close my eyes and I se
es it all again.

  A new candul lit and the fayces o the men around me. Nicholson and Skillen, Jack and Devlin. The twins.

  We shovels the coal away from Thomas so we can pull him out. It taykes most all o us to hold the beam up so Jack can drag his body out.

  As Jack and Nicholson lift him into the stretcher, a long wooden box shayped lyke a coffin alreddy, tis cleer that Thomass lower harf was fayre crushd underneeth the beam and the wayte o coal.

  Tis the Maykers way, says Jack as he puts a hand on my sholder. Tis the Maykers way Newt and he is wi him now so he is.

  Devlin puts his arm round my sholders and holds me tyte.

  There ent nothin we could o dun, says Jack. He was gone when we got here eh.

  Nicholson, who I ent ever seen upset afore, goes to his nees by the stretcher and taykes Thomass hand.

  Tis my fawlt, he says. We was drillin holes for the dynamyte for this arfternoon, close this part down for good see. I was hungree lyke and sed Id brayke for lunch early but Thomas keeps on workin on his own. Twas a rockfall I think. I hears him shout to me, here Nicholson, come have a look and then hes shoutin, run run, and I is runnin and when I look he ent behind me and then the xplosion fayre pushs me out. And I runs back and there he is. There he is.

  Tis the Maykers way, says Jack pattin Nicholson on the back. Tis the Maykers way.

  Rockfall must o set off the dynamyte at the sharft end, says Nicholson his hands shaykin still. I am ryte sorry for it, he says, wypin his fayce. I am ryte sorry for it Thomas.

  In the beginnin there was the Mayker and he mayde all around us, says Jack.

  He mayde all the men and all the wimmin

  He mayde all the creetures on this, his Earf

  The Mayker loved each and evryone o us

  But then all us men and wimmin betrayd him

  They took his Trust and spatt on it

  And the Mayker was angry

  He sent us down into the dark Earf

  To atone for the sins o our forefarvers and muvvers

  And one day, tis sed, the Mayker will give us a sine, says Jack and I look at Devlin and he looks at me and I nods at him and he nods back.

  We will all be foregivven

  And we will rise up to the land

  And the lyte that the Mayker holds there in his parm

  Will be givern to all o us

  And all shall prosper in this life and the next.

  Amen, we all says.

  Amen.

  I carnt believe he is gone. I keep turnin as if he is behind me, I keep hearin his voyce in my head. I feels him all around me still and yet.

  And yet.

  He is gone. Thomas gone. Tobe too. Both gone.

  And my heart dos brayke all over again.

  Tis lyke a black cloud dos surround me pinnin me down.

  I dunt want to move, dunt want to do nothin cept hide.

  Tis as much as I can do to sup some water.

  Pinin is what Jack calls it. He says Thomas is wi the Mayker now and I should tayke comfort in that but I carnt.

  Cos the Mayker taykes evryone dear to me.

  Tis his way, tis his way, says Jack again and again. Tis his way.

  Devlin sits alone wi me in dorm.

  Carnt believe hes gone, he says and I nod.

  How many more must he tayke? I says. How many more?

  We must do what we sed, says Devlin. The sine.

  I carnt, I says. What if this is punnishment from the Mayker for thinkin heethenish thawts?

  But it ent tho, says Devlin. What about the uvver men who died, the uvver boys eh? They was tayken long afore you started questionin things. Bearmouth tis full o daynger and horrors. And lest we chaynge things, ent goin to be no chaynge forever.

  I ent reddy yet, I says. Not now.

  When then? says Devlin.

  Soon I says. But I carnt answer for shore. My despayre dos wrap around me lyke a blanket.

  On Maykers Day, Mr Sharp leads a speshul prayer for Thomas. I ent listernin to him trooth be told as it hurts too much to think o not seein Thomas again, not hearin his voyce. No more letters, no more learnedness. He is gone. Thomas is gone.

  The Mayker has ordayned it and it was to be so, says Mr Sharp dronin on.

  Amen, all around us do say.

  A wave o sadness washes over me and tis all I can do to keep myself standin up. I feel Devlin at my elbow, holdin my arm.

  I look up at the Maykers fayce but tis all just rocks now.

  I want to shayke those around me. I want to shout and poynt to the rocks, see, see, there ent no Mayker here. Tis just rocks sayme as you see evryday.

  But I carnt. I must look and act lyke a believer. Act and look and hide the deceever that I am. And yet my heart feels hollower than ever.

  Arfter prayers Jack invites me and Devlin to caban for the first time. Tis an honour to be askd, shows we are thawt o as men now. Men. Feels funny sayin that when I ent nothin lyke a man but I keeps my trap shut tyte. Tis my seekret now, myne alone now that Thomas ent here. I dunt want to sit in caban and sing and talk. I want to distrakt myself else thawts o Thomas do crowd into my brayne and over whelm my very head.

  Insted, I taykes Devlin to see the ponys. I promisd him a few days past we wuld go to celebrayte not bein awkwud men no more and I keeps my promisses.

  I ent quite shore o the way wi out Thomas so we gets a bit lost trooth be told, even wi Devlins candul lytin the way. All the men are at caban and we hears singin in the distance as we wanders around the sharfts and tunnels.

  We ent lost are we? says Devlin and I shaykes my head.

  Corse we ent lost, I says sharp lyke.

  We carryes on for a moment til Devlin stops sudden.

  Wayte, he says. And I stop too.

  What? I says. What is it?

  The candul lyte flick flickers lyke it dos sometimes wi the straynge breezes and drafts that you do get undergrawnd. It ent chayngin color or nothin tho so we are cleer o daynger o the lykes o arfterdamp.

  What? I says.

  Smell, he says. Smell.

  I lifts my nose up and I sniff sniff but I carnt smell nothin.

  What? I says.

  Carnt you smell it a bit? he says.

  I sniffs and tryes but there ent nothin. Just the dampness o Bearmouth lyke always.

  Maybe I imagind it, he says sadly and we stay stock still for a moment.

  No, there it is, he says, feverd happy lyke.

  All I can smell is a faynte onyons smell lyke armpits or somethin.

  Thats it, he says. Dunt you kno what it is?

  No, I says. Cos it ent armpits is it?

  Tis wild garlick, he says. Im shore o it.

  A plarnt? Ent no plarnt grows at these depths dos it? I says.

  No, he says. But praps it meens somethin. Praps it meens that we have tunneld so far under the earf that we are a comin out somewhere else, he says.

  His joy tis fayre playne to see.

  Dunt be darft, I says. We been headin down ent we, not up.

  But what if down leads us out? he says. Lyke a mountin tis lyke a pyramyd so if you starts harfways up on one side and goes down and down and out, where myte you end up eh?

  At the ground on the uvver side, I says.

  Xactly, he says.

  I go to sniff again but the smell is gone. The candul flickers.

  Tis spring, he says. Tis spring and the wild garlick is in flower.

  I carnt smell it no more, I says. Praps tis nowt but our maginins.

  Praps, he says. But praps tis a bit o hope too eh.

  We stand there sniff sniffin but there ent nothin sayve candul flaymes and dampness.

  Come on, I says at last, we ent got all day.

  But afore we heads off, Devlin taykes out a bit o chalk from his pockit and he dos draw, small lyke, a flower that looks lyke a ball o petals on one o the wooden support beams holdin up the roof.

  Tis wild garlick, he says. Dunt you kno what it looks lyke?

  I shaykes my head.<
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  Ent never seen it I reckons. Ent never smelld it neether but if that was it and it dos smell lyke armpits o men I dunt think tis a grayte loss to have not sniffd it afore, I says.

  He larfs and tis a rare thing to hear. It dos mayke me feel warm inside. Then I remember Thomas again and the numbness returns.

  Tis hope, Devlin says. Tis hope. Come on then, he says. Lead on.

  Devlin is good wi the ponys. They lykes him they do, tis cleer to see. Boy dos remark on it as he watches em.

  Mayjor sniffs and nuzzalls me and tis an odd thing but it feels lyke he sees I am sad, that he understands my loss.

  Tis wrong to keep animals undergrawnd, says Devlin as he strokes Stars mane.

  Boy shrugs. Ent no diffrent to keepin us down here, tis what I always says to Newt. We ent goin to be down here forever anyways, says Boy and we looks at him.

  How so? I says.

  The Masters movin us out, the ponys see. Sposed to be goin to anuvver mine but we ent.

  Whys he movin the ponys? says Devlin.

  Needed elsewhere is all, says Boy. But the men are stayin. Ent shore I should tell nobody so best keep quiet about it eh.

  But what about the work? I says. Wunt the ponys be missd?

  Boy shrugs. If you ask me this mines days are numberd. Bearmouth ent goin to be a never endin pit eh. Reckon tis a last push to get as much out as they can afore closin it down.

  I remembers then the Master sayin about lecktrik, about not bringin it down to the deeps if the coal was to run dry and my mind is a whirlin.

  You say you ent goin, Devlin says. What you goin to do Boy?

  Boy grins. We be leavin the mine shore, he says, but we ent goin down anuvver one. See I been sayvin all this time and I got enuff to get by and purchayse one or two o the ponys see. Ill find work somewhere else, on a farm or summat. Folk always need strong ponys to do work. Bit o fresh air and rest for em and they will be ryte as rain.

  When do you go? I says and Boy shrugs.

  Tis a waytin game now, he says. Im just waytin for when they taykes us back up and I ent never comin back down any pit anywheres so long as I live. He grins and one o his teeth is missin. Twill be sorry for those left behind, the lykes o you lot, he says, but I reckons your time will come soon enuff eh?