by Liz Hyder
Suddenlee the Hall goes quiet. Mr Sharp comes in to lead the prayers as he always dos but this time two uvvers are wi him. I straynes to see as all else do lean forwud blockin my view, but then I sees him. Tis the Master himself, his hat tall on his head as ever, followd by Mr Lewis.
My heart beats twyce as fast. Tis him. The Master. He must kno o our plans. My head is all a whirlin as the Master and Mr Sharp come to the front.
The Master ent ever here on Maykers Day. I ent ever seen him before in the Hall.
A murmer goes ryte round the Hall as evryone pushs further forwud to get a better look. I hears the whispers around me, some alreddy sayin tis the Master.
Settle down settle down, says Mr Sharp holdin his hand up to indicayte for quiet.
The rumblins turn into a hushed awe. I edges forwud and sees Devlin at the front o the crowd almost ryte in front o the Master. I catches his eye and he looks frytend, lyke he did when he first cayme here. A newborn foal.
Mr Lewis you kno alreddy, says Mr Sharp. And this, he says, waytin for the whisperin to quieten. This is Mr Johnson. The Master hisself.
There is a gasp from the crowd. The mythikal beest here in front o them. And I wonders if any o them see what I see. He may be many things, the owner o the mine, a bully, but he is also just a man. Flesh and blood lyke the rest o us.
He is here today to offer a speshul prayer, says Mr Sharp. On akkount o the fact that we needs to up the produktivitee o the mine.
The Master steps forwud and I see it. The moment he sees Devlin. I see his fayce, puzzld at first, tryin to playce him and then the realisayshun o who he is.
I see Devlin step forwud too, a moment between them and then Devlin holds his head up, lookin up to the roof.
He is here, Devlin yells in a straynge voyce. The Mayker, he is here. I can feel him!
He jerks his body lyke he is havin a fit. To and fro he dances. The Mayker is inside me, he sings. He is inside all o us.
What on earf is the lad doin? I thinks to myself. Tis lyke he is havin a fit.
Mr Sharp steps forwud but so dos Jack who holds up his hand.
Tis a sine, says Jack. Then again, louder, turnin to the whole hall. Tis a sine, he yells. The Mayker has blessd this lad.
The Mayker, cryes Devlin. The Mayker! He is here!
The man behind me pushs me out o the way as the crowd surges further forwud to get a better look. Whilst all are lookin at Devlin, at this boy shaykin wi the glory o the Mayker, I taykes my chance and wriggalls out o the crowd. I whispers thanks to Devlin for his quick thinkin as I dashs forwud, not twentee foot or more, and round the edge to the back o the Mayker. I waytes a moment, heart thump thumpin in the shadows, and yet nobody drags me back out.
Theres anuvver one, I hear someone cry and I hear someone else shoutin too. The Mayker. He is here. Tis a diffrent voyce tho, one I ent recognisin. Tis lyke a fever creepin over the Hall.
Look here, says the Master loudly.
The Mayker, the Mayker, chants Devlin, drownin him out, uvvers joynin him now, their voyces comin together. The Mayker is here. The Mayker.
I carnt see anythin from behind the rocks but I must needs do what I cayme here to do and I thanks Devlin a thowsand times for causin a distrakshun. I reetches up but there is nothin. Bare rock is all.
I stretch and reetch and pray and sob.
Come on, come on, I whispers. Come on.
And then. At the tip o my fingers. The fuse.
I works it free wi my fingers til the end drops down.
The feverd chantin gets louder and louder as I pulls out my tin o matchiss. I hold it in my hand and wayte a moment. All stands before me. Is this really our only way out? I looks at the fuse in my hand and the tin in the uvver.
Mayker sayve me, I whispers. Mayker sayve us all.
I strykes a match and lytes the fuse. The chantin hides the fizzin sound as the spark weeves its way up up and towards the head.
Tis dun. And it cannot now be undun.
Silence! shouts Mr Sharp as I sneeks a look from behind the rock that I used to think was all things to all people. The Mayker mayde meerly o stone sted o godliness.
Devlin is jerkin and singin and those around him are singin too, there are uvvers shaykin an all, a handful o mainly young lads but Devlin ent alone.
Mr Sharp goes towards him and slaps Devlin round the fayce.
Stop it, he says loudly. He taykes him by the sholders. Stop it, he says again and shaykes him. Stop it, stop it!
Jack steps forwud. Leeve the boy alone, he says. The Mayker dos talk throo him see.
Uvvers crowd behind Jack, backing him up. Mr Sharp releeses Devlin, too startld to speke no more.
The Master watches all this and taykes a step backwuds. It feels lyke the whole room could ignite wi power. For some reason he turns, and at that moment he sees me. I feel him, his eyes borin down on me.
But tis too late. I hears a rumble and I runs out and back into the crowd.
That boy, shouts the Master as he dos poynte to me. That boy there.
The Mayker spekes! cryes Devlin drownin him out. The Mayker spekes!
Devlin poyntes to the Maykers head and, as he dos so, the dynamyte goes off. It dos look lyke fire comin out o his head and Devlin screetches.
Tis a sine, he yells. The Mayker is here!
Evryone else starts chantin now, the Mayker, the Mayker!
Tis a sine, Devlin shouts and I shout it too from harfway in the crowd.
Tis a sine! Tis the sine! Tis the sine the Mayker promisd us!
A straynge man next to me grabs me and holds me by the sholders.
Is it the sine chylde? Is it? he says eyes glintin.
Tis shorely a sine, I say, tis the sine is it not?
And then I looks beyond him and gasp.
The Maykers head is loose at the neck and as I look it dos roll forwud, perchd for one moment on the sholders afore tumblin down.
I screems and scrambles backwuds as the whole crowd in the hall lurches back. Hundreds o men lurchin and stumblin. The giant rock bounces down missin me by inches and shatterin into huge peeces.
Tis a sine! I shout. Tis a sine. Lyke the Maykers Prayer tells us, we are free, we are free!
I look at Devlin and he dos a tiny nod at me fore shoutin, We are free! The Maykers sine. We are free.
Jack joins in, his growly voyce rumblin. The Maykers sine is here! We are free men, free lads all. He wypes tears from his eyes. We are blessd all o us, the Mayker frees us today! The sine is here!
The crowd starts to cheer, chantin chantin, the sine the sine! We are free! We are free! The shout goes up. We are free!
The guards are joynin in too. They dashs out the doorway joynin uvver men and lads elbowin and shovin and crowdin to get out o the Hall, pushin and jostlin to get out o there, up towards the next levels and up up to the lift sharft.
I carnt quite believe my own eyes.
No, yells the Master. No! This is not the sine!
But his voyce is drownd out by the sheer wayte o men shoutin. He clutches hopelesslee at those fylin past him at a rate o nots, arms flaylin as he dos. He grabs at em, tryin to stop em. No, this is not the sine! No! Stop! No! This is not the sine!
We are free, we are free, yell the men. The sine, the sine, the Mayker has freed us!
They shouts and cheers as they skweezes out o the hall in a hurrikayne o kayoss and noyse.
More and more men heads out pushin and shovin throo the narrow doorway as Mr Sharp and Mr Lewis tryes to hold em back.
No, they say, no!
But ent none listernin to em now.
I looks behind me at whats left o the Maykers head where it lies in the Hall, gentlee pitchin from side to side and, as I looks at it, I dos wonder how I did ever think twas anythin uvver than a pile o rocks.
Devlin elbows his way back throo the crowd towards me, men partin reluktantly as he forces his way throo.
Newt, he says. We did it, he says, shaykin and pale as people flow around us and out.
We bloody did it.
I look for the uvvers but they are gone alreddy. The Hall empteein lyke water out o a broken buckit as men fyle their way out.
Jack and the dorm were some o the first out, says Devlin and he hugs me. We did it Newt, he says in my ear, above the sounds o the noyse in the Hall. We did it.
I glances to the ryte o the entrance and the Master is flat against the wall watchin Mr Sharp and Mr Lewis tryin to stop the flood o men afore them. But then Mr Sharp disappeers in the crush, his head bob bobbin out amongst a sea o men and tis just Mr Lewis left grabbin at men tryin to stop the flow but he can no more stop em than a rat stop a herd o bullocks.
Come on, Devlin says, lettin go o me. Come on. We got to go too.
But I carnt help but stop a moment and tayke it in. Men pushin and pullin at the doorway, forcin their way out, elbowin uvvers out the way to get out and up to the sharfts.
We have destroyd it, I thinks to myself, harf deaf wi the chants and screems and shouts as the Hall dos start to emptee around us, men jostlin me and Devlin out o the way and pushin past as they head out. I stands still and lets all that I have dun sink in. We have dun it. We have freed Bearmouth.
I see Mr Lewis carryd away in the throng too, arms wayvin as hes forced out the hall, swept up in the crowd. I see horror cross the Masters fayce. Tis just him left out o the manidgers now.
But then there is anuvver rumble and a rock falls on me, grayzin the top o my sholder and rippin my shirt. A handful o rocks crumble down around us and the air starts fillin wi dust, blowin out some o the canduls.
Come on, shouts Devlin, as the Hall darkens around us and men and lads push around us lyke a current in the layke, pullin and shovin us. We got to get out o here, it ent sayfe no more!
And then there he is. In front o us, the Master standin as still as he can as the crowd pushs past him. He steps towards us steddily and determind, elbowin uvvers out o the way as he dos so. His hat dusty and his suit torn, the polish o him long gone. And altho there are dozens and dozens o men pushin their way out around us it feels lyke we is the only three people in the whole world.
You, he shouts, poyntin at me. And you. I myte o known. I should o got rid o you when I had the chance, he snarls at Devlin. Just lyke your farver, the Master says as he pushs his way towards us. A rotten apple scared o the realitees o life. Lyke farver lyke son.
Theres a nasty look on his fayce and he dos pull somethin out o his pockit but then someone pushs him from the side and he dos trip backwuds into the crowd.
He yells, No, no!
But tis too late. He disappeers into the throng, hat bobbin til it falls off and out o syte as the mass o men lurches and surges out the doorway.
The crush pushs us forwud too and I carnt breeth.
Devlin, I whispers, Devlin!
He grabs my arm.
Help, I says in my head, my voyce crushd to nothinness. Help me.
The Hall rumbles behind us and Devlin glances back. He pulls me to the side, shovin his way out and clutchin my arm, draggin me wi him and we slowly edge sideways out o the push o the crowd.
I cling to the edge o the Hall gettin my breath back as men fyle out around us but then I hears a crackin noyse lyke when wood dos begin to split but o so much louder. I looks back up at the Mayker and cracks do appear in his body, spreadin lyke likwid cross his torso and towards the arms. The whole Hall rumbles around us, ground shudderin under our feet. Theres a terrifyin splittin noyse as the Mayker braykes in two and the top harf o his body toppalls over, hittin the ground wi a loud thud. The rumbles echo in myne ears and the floor shaykes violently.
The Hall emptees around us as the dust rises in clouds. The last men and boys leeve the Hall and heads out towards the lift sharfts. Towards the uvver side.
Alryte? says Devlin and I nod.
Look at what we have dun, I says.
He skweezes my sholder.
Come, he says. Tis time for us to tayke our leeve too.
I looks back at the Mayker above the risin cloud o dust and see more cracks formin and wydenin. Devlin pulls me forwud and we joins the last remnants o the men shufflin out, bottle nekkd by the tunnels leadin up and out to the sharfts. Chantin, shoutin. The hall rumbles and crumbles behind us as the dust snuffs out more o the canduls.
I gasps as I step into the dark passidgeway, harf a dozen bodies o men crushd underfoot lyin where they fell as the last men in the mine shuffall and tramps forwud ahead o us.
And then I sees it. His hat, the Masters hat, skwashd flat. I goes to pick it up and see that he is there too. Trampld on and slumpd up gainst the uvver side o the wall, one leg at a straynge angle. His fayce white as the blind fishes in the layke. The dust hangs in the tunnel lyke mist.
I feel Devlin grip my arm as the Master turns his fayce to us. We taykes a step back and I feels the ground shift under us.
You can destroy Bearmouth, he says, breethin fast, but so help me I will tayke you down wi it too, he says wi a leer.
There is somethin in his hand, small and shiny. He aims it towards us and I feels somethin whizz past my fayce burnin hot gainst my cheek.
I nearly lose my footin and then a bang sounds. The Master aims the thing towards the roof. A rock falls, a small one at first then some more, larger rocks. I steps forwud but Devlin pulls me back. The Master goes to say somethin else but the rocks loosen and fall on him as the roof cayves in.
Tis me who dos pull Devlin back this time, both o us scramblin backwuds. I trip and falls and I see all that follows.
No! No! the Master cryes as he holds his arms up. No!
But we never hear no more fore tis lyke an avalanche fallin on him, rocks steddy as rain, crushin the Master to dust.
I find myself screemin.
Devlin drags me back and we stands there huddld gainst the sides o the tunnel as the lyte o the last canduls on the passidgeway are blockd out bit by bit as the rocks fall and fall and fall and then we carnt see nothin no more.
All is blackness.
Hope faydes in me lyke a candul snuffd out.
I holds the wall to steddy myself. Feel the rocks warm and wet under my hands.
The only way out. Blockd in front o us.
The Master crushd. Bearmouth empteed. We did what needed to be dun but now it seems we are to be punnishd for it.
Alryte? says Devlin in the dark.
He ent goin to hurt no one no more, I thinks, heart thumpin in my mouth, bile risin in my throte.
I dunt say nothin.
Newt, he says.
Im here, I says.
Where now?
Ent nowhere, I says. Tis the only way out.
We stays there in silence. Lettin it sink in.
Lyte a candul, he says. See how bad it is. We can dig our way out. We are strong ent we?
The mine rumbles again. I holds onto a post to steddy myself but I can feel that wobblin too.
Evrythins fallin apart, I says. The whole o Bearmouth comin apart at the seams lyke an old shirt.
Lyte a candul, he says, else I will.
Theres a spark o lyte and then Devlin is in front o me. The floor is wet, I see it now. Water that I am shore was not there before.
Devlin holds the lyte up by the rocks but most o em are the size o a grown man. Tis playne to see that they are too hevvy for the lykes o the two o us to lift.
We are dun for, I says.
There must be anuvver way out, says Devlin, xaminin the rockfall. There must be.
I close my eyes and think – I thinks o Thomas and how I have faild him. I sayved the uvvers tis true, all those men and boys, most the whole o the workforce even now carryin their selves up the lift sharft sayve the handful in the passidgeway.
Not all got out then, I thinks. Not all.
Me and Devlin. Doomd to die here. In the warm blackness o Bearmouth. Joynin the Master in his dark grayve.
Mayker preserve us, I says to myself. Mayker sayve us.
I feels the walls rumble behind me again. The floor shayke
shaykin.
We will be crushd to death, I says. The Mayker in the Hall, it must o been a weak spot for the mine. Twill come tumblin down around us.
There is always hope, Devlin says, still lookin at the rocks. Ent that what Thomas wuld say?
But Thomas ent here, I says.
I slides down the wall, feelin my back ruff gainst the post, the water splish splashin around my ankulls. I curls up and puts my arms tyte round my boots and tis then that I feels it.
The dynamyte. The spayre stick, round and hard lyke a candul.
I gasp.
What? says Devlin.
I reetches into my boot, pulls out the stick and shows him.
But then what use is it really? I says turnin it over in my hand. We could blast the rocks here but tis just as lyke twill set off anuvver rockfall and mayke things worse.
Tis worth a try, he says.
And then a thawt strykes me. I holds my hand up.
No, I says. No. I got a better idea.
What? he says.
Wild garlick, I says. Ent that what you calld it that time? The flower you did draw.
Go on, he says.
See if we blasts our way throo here, even if there ent no rockfall on our heads, tis as lyke that there myte be anuvver collapse further up. We wuld as lyke still be stuck, I says. But the wild garlick must needs grow above ground. Tis what you sed. So we must be closer to gettin out there, see.
He grins at me, gettin ahead o himself.
So we blasts our way out o there, he says. Ha Newt! See, there is always hope.
The walls shayke around us again as he helps me up to my feet.
We must hurry, I says. We must hurry and find that drawin.
You kno the way? he says as we turn our backs on the rockfall and heads down deeper into Bearmouth, our one candul flickrin as we goes. Newt, Devlin says as we turns the corner, you kno the way?
I nods, hopin beyond hope that Thomas will show me.
As we goes fast along the emptee rolley roads, I closes my eyes evry now and then, just for a moment, as our feet splish splash throo the dark water and I thinks o Thomas, picturin him in my head. Rememberin him. Thinkin back to all those times he did tayke me to the ponys and prayin I dos remember the way.