I can help says Mrs Murdoe.
While Lights Out is talking I go across to Chicken Angel and she tells me that Lights Out wants Pippi back.
I shrug helplessly.
I look at Chicken Angel.
Her eyes are bright and filling with tears.
‘Why are your eyes all yellow?’ I say.
Lights Out comes back and sits beside us. She takes my hand. She is smiling.
‘Pippi's coming back,’ she morses, tapping gently on my arm. ‘Mrs Murdoe's promised.’
I look at Chicken Angel. This is where Mrs M can make life very difficult.
I think about what Cough Cough said about Pippi being baby Lolo.
‘What are we going to do?’ says Chicken Angel.
I look at Lights Out.
‘Maybe Cough Cough will have an idea,’ she says.
‘Maybe I'll have an idea,’ I say. She thinks Cough Cough's the only one has ideas. Well, he's not.
I try and have an idea.
Nothing happens.
Chicken Angel wrinkles her nose at me.
Then Tin Lid comes in with a pee bottle. It looks like a cardboard sock. She wants a sample from me. This is usual after trank. They want to see how long the chemicals stay inside us.
I go to the washes. Take down my trackies.
Then,
I do have the idea.
I place the bottle behind one of the toilet bowls. I come out of the washes and tell Tin Lid, who is waiting, that the pee bottle had a hole in it and that I've put it in the soil tub and can I have another one.
She goes to the office and I whisper to Chicken Angel that I've found a Pippi.
‘Another Pippi?’
I nod. It's a great idea. Except that if Lolo has another Pippi she won't grow up like Cough Cough says.
I frown.
Maybe we should forget about the doll thing.
But then I think – it's really Mrs Murdoe's idea.
So it's OK.
And it'll make Chicken Angel very happy. That's the main thing. And then she'll like me a lot.
Tin Lid gives me the second pee bottle.
In two minutes I've finished.
I watch her leave the dormie.
‘Well, where is it?’ asks Chicken Angel.
I take her into the washes and get the pee bottle from behind the toilet pan.
Chicken Angel looks at it, frowning.
‘We can draw Pippi's face on it,’ I say. I hold up the bottle. ‘The big end is the head and the rest can be the body.’
‘Huh!’ says Chicken Angel. ‘It's a spookie. You can't give her that. It's nothing like Pippi.’ She turns and starts pinning up her hair in front of the mirror. I watch her wings wiggle under the T-shirt as she reaches up.
Oh!
Then I wonder.
Maybe Chicken Angel doesn't like me making a Pippi for Lights Out because she wants to be the one who looks after her. Does things for her. I think of what Cough Cough would say. ‘She treats Lolo like a little girl.’ That's what he'd say. And she does. She's like a nurse with Lolo, feeding her and doing her hair and cleaning her up at night when she pitches her bed.
Cough Cough's right.
She gets jealous if he or I step in. Lolo's a baby for Chicken Angel, same as Pippi is for Lolo. Noo nooing Lolo gives Chicken Angel something to do. She's doing helping, that's what she's doing.
It's OK helping each other. That's how we keep going. But you can have too much helping. It's like dozie. You get fixed on it.
‘We could draw eyes on it and hair and a mouth.’
‘Don't be daftie,’ says Chicken Angel turning round. ‘What's the point of eyes if you can't see?’
Of course.
Daftie me.
Lights Out is Lights Out because her lights are out.
4
Chicken Angel looks at her pee-yellow eyes in one of the mirrors. ‘Lolo had the scan again. I had the eye test,’ she says. ‘They've put eyes on primary. For you and me and Cough Cough. You didn't get it because you had trank. Cough Cough told us about that. It was Tin Lid, wasn't it?’ She strokes her fingers down my face. ‘Poor X-Ray, did it really squeal you?’
I like it when Chicken Angel strokes me, does the gently on my face.
I nod.
I push my trackies down a bit to show her the bruise from the hypo. Because of my skin I bruise a lot. Cough Cough says my skin goes jungly, all greens and parrot blue and red. Sometimes when Lights Out does the gently on my back at bedtime and leaves pictures they turn pink all over, especially if she presses a bit too hard. It's because the skin's like paper says Cough Cough, you can write on it.
You could send messages on me.
Chicken Angel looks in the mirror again. She pulls her lower eyelid down. ‘They squirt this stuff in and shine lights inside you. It didn't work for Cough Cough. They're waiting for his eyes to clear so they can do it again. One of the test nurses said. Now eyes are on primary I suppose we'll look yellow all the time.’
I start thinking.
Why are eyes on primary now? We've been tested lots. We have the function test, the primary, every day: pee, heart and blood, lungs (respiratory function), fat tissue (subcutaneous and intra-organic) and general motor coordination. Once a week we have the secondary: weight, chests, feet, critical joints, spines, neural responses, tongues, skins, scalps, ears.
‘They'll test us to DESTRUCTION,’ Cough Cough says sometimes. That's because he often gets bronchial occlusion on the pulmonary test and they have to give him a relaxant to open the tubes again. They hypo it direct into the blood. It really squeals. I've heard him crying when they do it.
‘What Lights Out wants,’ Chicken Angel is saying, ‘is something to cosy cosy. Something softly. We'll all have to think of a way to make another Pippi,’ she says.
I know what that means. She wants to ask Cough Cough.
And why not me?
But she doesn't know Cough Cough won't help. She doesn't know he thinks Pippies are OK for babies not girls.
And what's more, he doesn't know anything about making Pippies, does he!
I do though.
Back in the dormie Lights Out is asleep. This is OK. ‘We are allowed to sleep today because of our eyes and the scans,’ says Chicken Angel.
Eyes!
Then I remember.
‘Oh, and another thing,’ I whisper. ‘The Weather Eye was open. And, guess what, the tree's gone and you can see the Outside. I saw a monkey boy swinging and jumping.’
‘Outside?’ says Chicken Angel. Her eyes widen. ‘Oh, that's terrible.’
Suddenly the doors swing open and two of the nurses enter pushing a wheelchair. Sitting in it, tranked out, his head lolled to one side, his eyes closed, is Cough Cough.
He looks small and crumpled.
Chicken Angel and I watch as the two nurses lift him on to his bed, fold his blanket over him and leave.
I look at Chicken Angel.
She looks at me.
Her eyes are full of yellow gold.
She is biting her lip.
Under the bedclothes the little mound of Cough Cough lies motionless.
CHAPTER 6
Doctor D
1
Nail was sitting on the grass breathing hard. He'd just lathered Kenno up the Scootie and was waiting for him to move. But Kenno was having none of it. His lungs were bursting and he was staying put, lying on his back panting at the sky like a dog.
Nail eyed him. No puff in him. For a lumpo that did weights that was some puzzle.
Nail looked down the hill and over a clump of trees to where a street of houses curved round a small green. All their frontages were full in the sun, and hanging outside one of them was a bright red sign. It was Garvie Post Office.
Beyond the houses and up on the far side of the valley stood a large white-fronted building, an old mansion with outhouses and some low-lying modern prefabricated units. It was surrounded by a high wall.
Nail
raised the binoculars and scanned the place. There was just the one entrance, and that was blocked by a checkpoint with hut and barrier. He could see a guard standing staring straight ahead like he was staring straight at him. ‘Give us a peepie,’ wheezed Kenno, settling himself down.
*
‘ Give us a peepie,’wheezed Kenno, settling himself down.
‘What's that place? The big white palace over there?’ said Nail handing him the binocs.
‘Bin Linnie Lodge. Round here it's called the Bin.’
Nail nodded.
‘It's where they keep the spooks.’
‘Spooks?’
‘Dafties. Sick kids. You know. Ones with two heads and things, mouths in their stomachs.’
‘Yeah?’ said Nail.
‘Yeah. Everyone says,’ Kenno protested. ‘My mum included. She works there. They get sent there from all over the country. It's true. Coddy used to work there as well. In the gardens. He says they're freaks. My mum says they're a menace.’
Nail stopped and looked hard at Kenno. ‘Freaks? Maybe we should pay them a visit.’
‘They got security, lots of security,’ said Kenno. ‘I don't like freaks. They should put them down at birth.’
Nail lay back. He was suddenly remembering. He had a brother, once. A baby. He only saw him the one time in hospital. His mum took him. The baby had looked purple. Soon after he died and for a year or so they used to visit the grave, he and his mum, and then they missed a few visits and when they came back it was all overgrown and they weren't sure where the grave was any more and so they stopped going. Then his dad left and his mum moved and he forgot the purple baby.
Till now. Till this minute sitting on Scootie Hill with his lumpo cousin looking at a freak factory. Suddenly it was so clear – the white hospital and the Rupert Bear curtains and the cloche thing they kept over his brother. The poor kid. He didn't know he only had a few days left.
His chest felt tight. He swallowed hard. ‘Sod it!’ He slammed his heel into the grass.
Sodding Kenneth.
He turned, clenched his fist and swung at Kenno.
But Kenno had caught the sudden anger in Nail's voice and was half ready for something.
The punch missed and he rolled away and sat up on his knees staring at Nail and still holding the binocs.
‘What's up?’ he said, trembling. He knew Nail had a temper. He'd seen him smack some kid once for giving him the finger.
Nail didn't answer. He didn't know.
Kenno stood up. ‘I'm going home,’ he said.
Nail shook his head. ‘No. No. Sorry. Sorry mate. Just bad dreams,’ he said. ‘Bad dreams. Come on, sit yer pusie bum down and tell me what yer see.’
Slowly Kenno sat himself down like he had thistles up his jeans.
He raised the glasses and for a long time scanned the street.
‘See anything?’ said Nail, the past now fading from his mind.
Kenno shook his head.
Nail worked up a smile. ‘Coast clear?’
Kenno nodded. ‘Does that mean we got to go?’
‘Rest yer beating heart,’ said Nail. ‘We'll wait till the kids come out of school.’
‘So we'll be lost in the crowd.’
‘Good one, Kenneth. Observation and timing, that's the secret. Knowing when to strike.’
Suddenly he grabbed the glasses. ‘Jeez! Look at that.’
Both of them stared at the Post Office.
A girl in jeans and a striped blue tank top was lifting up the fallen ice-cream board. ‘Just look at that,’ said Nail. ‘Work of art.’
‘Dunno,’ said Kenno. ‘Can't read it.’
What a right Kenneth thought Nail, looking at his cousin squinting into the distance.
From where they were it was difficult to tell how old the girl was but the way she tossed her hair as she stood up and the way she slipped on her sunglasses and the way she looked up and down the street and the way she sauntered back into the shop suggested to Nail that here was some tasty stuff.
‘Let's go,’ he said. ‘Change of plan.’
2
A hundred metres or so from the PO Nail called a halt. ‘Leave the talk to me,’ he said. ‘I'll cover for you.’
‘Cover?’ said Kenno. ‘Cover for what?’
‘For the five-finger discount, what else?’
Kenno looked at his fingers, puzzled. Then at Nail, alarm in his eyes.
‘Nick something,’ said Nail reaching out and closing his fingers over some invisible choc bar.
‘Nick?’
Nail nodded.
‘What if they see me? What if I get caught?’
‘OK. OK,’ said Nail. ‘Forget it. Just forget it.’
Kenno took a deep breath. ‘No, Nail,’ he said. ‘No. I'll give it a try.’ He wiggled his fingers. ‘I gotta learn sometime.’
‘That's my boy,’ said Nail. ‘Now let's play.’
3
Suddenly the voice-over crackles.
A message from Doctor Dearly.
We'd just finished in the showers. I'd swapped soap with Chicken Angel so I could see her chest about those lumpies. They definitely weren't real lumpies. The real ones were hard and INFLAMED. Chicken Angel's were soft and more like swellings than lumps, like her wings in fact. And another thing, lumpies spread all over you, Chicken A's didn't. She just had the two.
So, they're not spreading.
I think she's going to be all right.
For voice-overs, as we call them, we all have to sit on our beds and listen. We often get voice-overs like: ‘Clear your own beds, no san team today' and ‘Line up at the food hatch' and ‘Remember your toilet, light-out five minutes.’ Of course these are tapes not real people and, like Cough Cough, their voices are getting worn out. Some messages don't make sense any more. We get one that used to say: ‘Keep the Day Area waste free.’ Now it sounds like: ‘Eat the diarrhoea pastry.’
That used to make us laugh. We could pitch in our pants over it. Except we didn't because that got you black points and you had to clear up your own messes. We used to get extra Coke from the machine if we got no black points but we don't play the points game much, not since Doctor Dearly arrived.
When Lights Out messes at night Chicken Angel always cleans her up. She never calls the nurse, not at night. They don't like that.
I think it's something they put in her dozies that makes her mess in the night.
Anyway we all sit waiting.
First we hear the music and then Doctor Dearly's voice comes on.
‘G1 to 4 listen carefully. This is a health alert. Your recent tests have shown that there is a higher than acceptable level of retinal damage in your eyes. Factors involved in this receptor deterioration may be physiological, may be environmental. Your doctors are not sure. To prevent further degradation your care team has decided after much consultation to adopt an intensive monitoring and elimination strategy. Eye examination will now be on the primary testing schedule and because screen radiation is a known environmental factor in retinal degeneration we have decided, for the time being, to terminate television viewing. Should eliminating this factor result in some improvement to eyesight then we will have to consider a permanent termination. No Natural World till further notice. Remember: your welfare is our first concern. Any questions address them to the day nurse or talk to your primary examiner. Message over.’
*
Silence.
4
We just look at each other.
No more TV!
No more Natural World!
What does it mean? What'll we do?
For Lights Out no TV was OK because when the telly was on she said it made the air crinkly and it itched her. But she always wanted to know what was happening. It was a squeal having to tell her. She was always asking what the animals looked like. Chicken Angel usually told but she left out the squeal bits like the leopard and the baby monkey.
Cough Cough and I look at each other.
‘
I told you they'd close the channel,’ he says. ‘If our eyes get better they'll ban The Natural World permanently. We won't ever see it again. If our eyes get worse it'll make no difference because we won't be able to see anyway.’
I wasn't really listening. I was thinking of sunrise over the Ngorongoro Crater.
‘It's Africa I like best,’ I said. ‘Then the jungles and the butterflies, the blizzards of butterflies, and the parrots, squawky and blue and green and red.’
‘Next they'll close us down,’ said Cough Cough.
‘It's only a precaution. A temporary thing. Stop us getting worse. Anyway we're having more tests,’ I say.
‘You're a daftie, X-Ray,’ says Cough Cough quietly. ‘Tests don't cure you. It's just an excuse for them. Don't you see? Don't any of you see? It's what I've been saying all along. Everything's going bit by bit. Like in The Natural World. First you have the green grass and the lakes and the trees. Then they take away the trees, then the water dries up, then the grass disappears, then the animals die, then winds blow the dust all over the land and nothing's left but desert.’ He looks at us sitting staring at him, mouths open. ‘Sand! Which is what you've got your heads stuck in.’
‘Well, I think you're being too pess… pess…’ says Chicken Angel.
‘PESSIMISTIC?’ says Cough Cough. ‘Just wait and see. Wait and see what they do next. And don't say I didn't warn you.’
Lights Out morses. She doesn't mind the television going takeaway because Pippi will be back soon, back off her holiday. She's gone away to the seaside with Mrs Murdoe.
‘What she saying?’ says Cough Cough.
‘She said nothing's going to happen to us. That Doctor Dearly will be good to us like always.’
‘Then she's a noo noo brain,’ says Cough Cough. ‘Like the rest of you.’
5
That night it's busy. The Outside is fitting and howling. We can hear the wind in the chimney in the day-room. It sounds as though it is mooing through Moose.
I lie there in bed thinking about what Cough Cough has said about us going away and disappearing like the summer grass.
Well, CC, in the Ngorongoro the grass does go, but then it comes back. It only hides. It always comes back.
So you're wrong.
6
First tuck-in next day.
Angel Blood Page 5