How Hedley Hopkins Did a Dare...

by Paul Jennings

  ‘We are weird,’ I say to myself.

  No mate, says Major Manners. They are weird.

  The waves race up and down the sand and nip at our feet like liquid fingers. The sky stretches above us. A high wind is tearing the smiling face in the cloud to pieces. Now it looks like an angry devil. I suddenly shiver. It’s not a good sign.

  23

  a grave situation

  AFTER A LONG, tiring walk we reach the track that leads up into the sand dunes. We make our way up towards the grave which is still out of sight.

  I hear voices.

  We are not alone.

  Oh no. Are the Police waiting for us? Is it Ian Douglas and his mob? It can’t be because it is school time. The kids at my school will all be safely out in the playground eating sandwiches. I look at my watch – a Timex with luminous hands and a leather strap. I am lucky because there are only three children in our grade with a watch and I am one of them. Sometimes at night when I am in bed I stare at the green glowing pointers as they shine in the dark. Towards midnight they start to fade and finally disappear altogether. It’s as if the luminous hands save up the sunshine but it gradually gets used up. Like life. One day all of my life will be used up. I will be just a skull and bones like Major Manners.

  I slap my own head. This is no time for daydreaming. There is someone up near the grave.

  A voice floats loudly on the air above the sound of the crashing waves.

  ‘Bloody, bloody, bloody.’

  I have heard that voice before.

  Randolph, the Seagull Boy.

  ‘Sh …’ I say to Kate and Victor.

  But Victor knows who owns that voice too. He waves the broom around and makes Major Manners rattle as he climbs up the sand dune.

  ‘Bloody, bloody, bloody,’ shouts Victor.

  ‘No, no, no,’ I yell.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ yells Victor.

  Victor disappears over the top of the dune. I have no choice but to follow. Kate comes after me with fearless steps.

  There are about ten Billabong kids on the other side of the fence. But they’re not going to be there for much longer. Richard has a large pair of wire cutters and he is snipping away at the hole in the fence. It was probably him who cut the hole in the first place. It must have been the Billabong students, not Ian Douglas and the gang, who lifted the top off the grave, punched a hole in the coffin, and took out the skull. They would have run for it when Mr Hooper or another teacher came by or the school bell rang.

  The Billabong students see Victor holding the skull and start to yell and whoop. Some are scared and race off but most of them go crazy with excitement. Victor prances up and down in front of the fence waving the skull like a Vandal general in front of his victorious troops.

  Richard makes the last snip with his strong hands and removes a circle of wire. He dives through the hole and one by one the rest of the Billabong students follow him to our side of the fence. They form a circle and dance around Victor and his skull. I have to put a stop to this. I have to put Major Manners back in his coffin before we are discovered.

  I try to take the broom from Victor’s hands but he doesn’t want to give it up.

  ‘Please,’ I say.

  This doesn’t work. ‘Please’ has no effect. Victor holds the broom behind his back.

  ‘Can I have it, please, Victor?’ says Kate.

  Victor pauses, thinks about this then shakes his head. Even for Kate he won’t hand over the skull.

  I start waving my hands around trying to make the excited mob listen. I shout at them but that doesn’t work either.

  ‘This is Major Manners,’ I yell, pointing to the top of Victor’s broom handle. ‘A brave soldier who defended his country in the War. A mighty warrior.’

  Some of them are looking up at the skull with puzzled expressions. They don’t seem to connect it with a live person.

  ‘Bloody,’ says Randolph.

  ‘Yes,’ I yell. ‘Bloody good man. He must be returned to his grave. You shouldn’t have taken him out of the coffin.’

  Richard and a few others start mumbling crossly under their breath when I say this. Russell is shaking his huge head. Victor looks at his toes like a small child caught pinching food from the fridge.

  ‘You should’ve left him in there. But it’s not too late. We can put him back now and no one will know.’

  My speech gets only blank looks. No one seems to understand. I must have used too many long words.

  Major Manners stares down from the top of the broom as Kate walks over to the grave and bends down. She makes out that she is trying to lift the concrete block. Her face goes red and she makes a little groaning noise.

  Richard rushes to her side and tries to lift the slab with her. Even with his help she can’t do it.

  I go to the other side of the grave and grab the slab with both hands.

  There is a pause. All the boys look at each other. Then they hurry to the concrete block and surround it. One by one they bend down and grab the edge.

  ‘Lift,’ I grunt.

  ‘Lift,’ comes back the chorus.

  Victor holds the skull up high. ‘Lift,’ he yells.

  ‘Lift,’ comes back the chorus.

  It reminds me of a Roman galleon with the slave master yelling out ‘row’ and all the slaves echoing his words with every stroke. Victor is leading the way. Everyone is repeating his words now.

  ‘Lift,’ shouts Victor. He is enjoying the power of words.

  ‘Lift,’ comes the reply.

  We all struggle. Eyes bulge. Veins stand out on foreheads. Sweat pours down faces. But the slab does not move.

  ‘Lift,’ urges Victor.

  This time there is no reply. But there is a movement. The grave cover moves. We have it a few inches off the ground. My back is killing me. Up, up, up.

  We are standing.

  We have it.

  24

  beneath a bone

  THE BILLABONG STUDENTS and Kate and I have managed to lift the concrete top off the grave. But now what? I am worried that someone will slip into the hole. Richard, who is at the end, is in danger of falling in.

  ‘Over here,’ I shout.

  Richard edges his way around to my side and we all stagger towards the sand dune which cuts us off from the sea. At last we are clear of the grave. We inch our way forward with the concrete block held between us.

  ‘Stop now,’ I say.

  Each of us stands there like a weight-lifter who has the barbell up to his waist but doesn’t know how to put it down.

  ‘Get your toes out of the way,’ I scream.

  There is a shuffle as they all do what I say. I go to speak but there is a bit of sand in my throat and all I can do is cough.

  ‘Let go,’ yells Kate.

  Everyone lets go at the sound of her voice. The concrete slab lands with an almighty thump.

  The Billabong boys all fall to the ground and make exaggerated noises of exhaustion. They are having fun.

  ‘I’m knackered.’

  ‘Puffed out.’

  ‘Stuffed.’

  ‘Bloody heavy.’

  There is much laughing and puffing and holding of sides.

  Suddenly a bell sounds. It is the Billabong end-of-lunch bell calling the pupils back to class. Richard dives back through the hole. The others follow.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone about this,’ I yell.

  ‘They won’t,’ says Kate. ‘They don’t want to get into trouble for climbing through the fence.’

  In a flash they have gone. All of them. Except Victor.

  ‘You’d better go too, Victor,’ says Kate.

  ‘Give me the skull, Victor,’ I say.

  Victor just shakes his head. He is very stubborn sometimes, is Victor. The three of us stare down into the grave at the coffin below.

  ‘There’s no ladder,’ says Kate. ‘How will we get down?’

  She’s right. Whoever put the slab back must have taken the ladder. We won’t be ab
le to put Major Manners’ head back inside his coffin unless I can get down there somehow. If I jump into the grave I won’t be able to climb out.

  There are the remains of rotting boards on the sides but they are no stronger than dry cardboard. Most have gone altogether leaving the sandy walls without support. Already some parts have fallen in.

  ‘We’ll just have to throw him back down,’ I say. ‘Maybe the Police or Mr Hooper will see and finish the job.’

  ‘No,’ screams Victor.

  He doesn’t want us to put the skull in the grave. He thinks we are trying to bury a friend. I grab the broom handle and pull. Victor pulls back and the broom begins to shake like crazy. Suddenly the skull falls. It lands heavily on the sand. I dive for it but Victor is too quick. He grabs the skull with two hands. So do I. Victor tugs. I hang on firmly. Kate rushes over to help. She grabs me around the waist and tries to drag me and the skull away from Victor.

  ‘Stop it,’ I shout. ‘You’ll break it.’

  ‘Let go, Victor,’ orders Kate.

  Victor does not do what Kate says. He will not let go. He pulls even harder. So do I. Suddenly Victor loses his grip. Kate and I go flying backwards.

  Into the grave.

  We fall screaming down into the hole and land with a thud on the sand to one side of the coffin. A huge landslide of sand pours down and partly buries us. We are both winded and fight for breath. Sand continues to fall.

  ‘Stand up, stand up,’ I yell at Kate. ‘Before we’re buried.’

  We struggle to our feet and I don’t even notice that every bone in my body is aching. The skull is lying on the other side of the coffin.

  ‘Help,’ Kate yells up at the sky above.

  ‘Help,’ I scream at Major Manners.

  I can’t, mate, he says. It’s up to you.

  Even though I am in such danger, my mind rushes off on its own track. All this is about returning Major Manners to his grave. Even if it is our grave too, I will snatch a second or two to put him back where he belongs. I grab the skull and place it over the hole in the lead coffin. I push downwards.

  ‘What are you doing?’ yells Kate. ‘We have to get out of here.’

  ‘It won’t fit,’ I groan.

  It won’t either. The hole is too small. The skull will just not go back through the opening no matter how hard I push.

  Whoomph. More sand falls. I have to free my hands and get out of here before we are buried. I shove the skull into a small ledge which has formed behind a decayed board at the end of the grave.

  I look up at Victor who is peering down at us with wild eyes. He is our only hope. He is kind. He is innocent. But he’s not smart.

  ‘It’s up to you and me, Victor,’ I call out. ‘No one else is here. We have to get Kate out.’

  ‘And you,’ says Kate.

  ‘You first,’ I say. ‘I can lift you but you can’t lift me. You can go and get help.’

  ‘Help us, Victor,’ I call.

  Victor pushes a hand into his pocket. He pulls out a handful of boiled lollies and begins throwing them down at Kate. They rain down on us just as they did on me when I was in the grave last time.

  ‘Don’t,’ I yell. ‘Don’t.’

  Victor’s face falls. He is only trying to help. The poor kid doesn’t understand what is going on. He points down to the skull.

  ‘Mine,’ says Victor. ‘Friend.’ He wants Major Manners back.

  Whoomph. Another sandfall. This time it dumps around both of us and we are buried up to our knees. Oh, no, no, no. Now we will both be drowned in sand. How can I possibly get Kate out? I give it everything I’ve got and manage to lean towards her, reaching forward. I begin digging away the sand from around her like a dog uncovering a bone. Finally she manages to release her legs from the grip of the sand.

  ‘Kate,’ I say. ‘Jump on to my shoulders. Reach up and grab Victor’s hand. Don’t be scared.’

  ‘I’m not scared,’ she says with a trembling voice.

  Kate scrambles onto my shoulders. She sits there like a little girl on her father’s shoulders.

  ‘Reach up, Kate,’ I say.

  She stretches up her arms but Victor simply looks down. He doesn’t do anything to help. I can see he is looking at the skull.

  ‘Stretch,’ I yell. ‘Stretch.’

  Kate stretches but still Victor does nothing but look. All he wants is the skull. He hangs over the edge of the grave and dangles one arm down, trying to reach it. More sand falls. My shoulders start to ache. Kate is too heavy and too far away from Victor.

  ‘I’m going to push you up,’ I grunt. ‘You have to stand up.’

  Kate squirms around desperately.

  ‘Hurry,’ I say.

  ‘I’m trying, I’m trying,’ she gasps.

  It is tough going but finally I push Kate up until she is kneeling on my shoulders. She jiggles around a bit and with me holding her hands manages to move to a squatting position. Then, with shaking knees, she stands with her shoes right next to my ears and steadies herself against the edge of the grave with one hand. The wall around her hand begins to collapse and sand pours down around us.

  ‘Climb up,’ I yell.

  Kate stretches but there are still no hands to meet hers.

  The skull is still lodged in the little hollow just above my face.

  My strength is giving out. I can’t last much longer. With one hand on Kate’s ankle, I reach across with my other hand and snatch the skull. ‘Here, grab the skull,’ I groan to Kate.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Grab it, quick. And give it to Victor.’

  She doesn’t seem to know what I have in mind but she grabs the skull by putting one hand through the hole in the back of the skull and gripping the ridge between the eyes with her fingers.

  ‘Give it to Victor,’ I yell. ‘And don’t let go.’

  Victor’s eyes light up. He sees the skull in Kate’s trembling hand. He grabs it with two hands and pulls. He really wants that skull. He is strong but his fingers are stubby. The weight on my shoulders grows lighter. Victor’s face is red and straining. He is lifting the skull upwards and Kate with it. But he is flat on his stomach and I can see that he can’t pull her weight backwards.

  I put my hands under her feet and shove.

  I push Kate up a few more inches and she manages to grasp the back of Victor’s shirt. With a grunt she drags herself onto his back. Suddenly she has gone. Victor has wriggled back, taking Kate and the skull with him. She’s safe.

  My relief turns to panic. The edges of the grave are collapsing all around me. The sand is pouring down like dry rain. I try and try and eventually manage to pull out one leg and then the other. I stand on the fallen sand but my face is still about the length of my arm below the top of the grave. Suddenly there is an enormous collapse of sand. I do my desperate dance trying to stop my legs from being buried. I manage to stay on top of the sand until my face is about a foot below the surface. There is another enormous collapse. The sand falls too quickly. It covers my waist. It is up to my chest. It covers my shoulders and then my neck. I am just a head poking out the bottom of a shallow hole. Sand is running down the edges onto my chin.

  I take a deep gasp of air and then – the greedy sand covers my mouth. And my nose. Oh, merciful Heaven. Help. I can’t breathe.

  Victor is prancing around holding the skull. He doesn’t understand that I am suffocating. I can’t talk. I can’t scream out my fear. I have no voice. Only my eyes and the top of my head are above ground and soon they will be covered too.

  The sand is running slowly down the edges of the hole on to my face like honey tipped from a jar. Grains of sand scratch my eyes. Kate falls to her knees above me and begins digging as fast as she can. She uncovers my nose and mouth and I spit out dry sand and begin to cough.

  ‘Go for help,’ I splutter. ‘There might be someone on the beach.’

  The deadly flow is still drifting down despite Kate’s efforts to pull me up. She begins to dig. But it is hopeless.


  ‘I don’t want to leave you,’ she sobs. ‘But I can’t stop the sand.’

  I know this is true. Hands are such small shovels.

  ‘Victor will help me. Go,’ I shriek.

  Kate’s eyes are filled with doubt. But she jumps to her feet. And is gone.

  ‘Help me, Victor,’ I yell.

  Victor just dances around with the skull. He is so happy to have it back.

  I have to think. Think, think, think. I am going to suffocate. If there was a bucket or a tin Victor could put it over my head to give me a breathing hole.

  ‘Put the skull over my face,’ I yell at Victor. ‘To keep the sand out.’

  Victor hugs the skull to himself and takes a step backwards. I can see that he is about to run. The sand is trickling down over my chin again. These are my last moments.

  ‘Victor,’ I say. ‘You are my friend. Help me please. Put the skull on my face. I will die if you don’t.’

  Victor seems to be thinking this over, like a judge deciding whether a prisoner is guilty or innocent. Finally he decides in my favour. He bends down and places the hole in the back of the skull over my face. Just in time. My mouth and eyes and nose are completely inside the round brain-box. The sand continues to pour around the base of the skull. Now I have two heads.

  The sand can’t reach my face. I am safe for a second or two. Victor kneels down and stares in through the bony eye holes.

  ‘Go for help,’ I say. ‘Please, Victor. Get help.’

  ‘Yes …’ He is struggling to say something. ‘… Hedley.’

  Victor vanishes. I am alone. Buried beneath a bone.

  25

  dead man talking

  IT IS SILENT in my grave. Major Manners says nothing. I am standing buried in sand.

  The skull keeps me alive by allowing me to breathe through the remains of Major Manners’ head. Two pairs of eyes stare up from the sand. His are empty but mine gaze up through his sockets. My mouth and eyes are lined with sand and grit. I try not to move as the slightest vibration may bring more sand drifting into the skull to block my airway.