Anton looked up and saw Max’s mother standing at the open bathroom door with wet hair. She was dressed in a woolly dressing gown.
At that moment there were three loud knocks on the door.
Five
The two boys were alone in the house, something that rarely happened. Although the twins were now fourteen years old, their mother would not normally go out and leave them by themselves at night. But even though most of the fighting was over, the refuge where she worked still had emergencies.
And the power was out again. The whole town was in darkness.
‘I’ll come back as quickly as I can,’ she said to Christopher. ‘I know you’ll look after Max until I’m back.’
‘Do I have to sleep in his room?’ said Christopher. ‘He snores.’
‘Yes, dear, you do. If he wakes up and one of us is not there he gets upset. And I need you to make sure his candle is out when he falls asleep. And that goes for you too.’
Christopher groaned and picked up the two puppets. ‘More puppet talk?’
‘More puppet talk,’ she said with a smile. ‘You know he loves it.’
* * *
As it turned out, the mother did not return until the early hours of the morning.
And when she did the boys were not there.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said the fire chief as they stared at the smouldering remains of the house. ‘But only one of them survived.’
She stared with wide eyes, trying to make sense of it. Then her legs gave way and she dropped to the floor like an empty sack
‘No, no, no,’ she sobbed.
‘The other one’s okay,’ said the chief. ‘He’s in hospital for observation. Sedated. But I’m so sorry we couldn’t save his brother. Everything was ablaze.’
The frantic mother rushed to the hospital ward and looked at her son sleeping soundly. Both puppets were on the pillow next to him. Tears started to fill her eyes. There was no way he would have parted from the puppets.
She gently kissed him on the forehead. ‘Max, Max, Max,’ she said gently. ‘Oh, my love. You’re alive.’
He opened his eyes and stared around the tiny room, confused.
‘Oh, Max,’ she said again. ‘Thank God they saved you.’
His eyes were sleepy and half closed. He blinked and confusion showed in his eyes.
‘Are okay,’ he said.
‘Oh, Max, my darling,’ she sobbed. ‘What would I have done if I’d lost you?’
‘Lost you,’ he repeated. He fumbled with the little green puppet and put it on a shaking hand. Then he moved its lips.
‘Where Christopher, where Christopher?’ he said.
‘Christopher, Christopher, Christopher,’ she repeated. Unbearable thoughts filled her mind. The burning house. The choking smoke. The heat. The flames. And her son in the middle of it. She opened her mouth but could only utter a despairing groan.
Finally she managed to say, ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be all right.’
He closed his eyes and let his hand fall over the side of the bed. The little green puppet fell to the floor.
‘Christopher gone,’ he mumbled sleepily. ‘Christopher gone.’
Six
Anton’s mind was in a muddle. But he was still alert enough to know what the three knocks meant. The game was up. He was caught. Max’s mother would report him as a stowaway.
What did they do with stowaways? He’d heard stories about it. Bread and water, locked up in a cell and then handed over to the police at the first port.
Another three knocks demanded a response. Max’s mother opened the door to reveal the man who had found Anton on the deck.
‘It’s about your boy,’ he said. ‘He was alone on the deck in the dark. In bad weather on the first night. You can’t let them wander like that.’
‘I’m sorry, officer,’ she said. ‘It won’t happen again.’
‘I’m not an officer,’ he said. ‘I’m a steward on Deck A.’
‘Well, we appreciate your trouble,’ she said. She went over to the bed and fetched a purse. She selected two notes and held them out. The steward looked at her disapprovingly. But he took the money and headed back down the corridor without another word.
Anton’s head began to spin. What was going on? Why hadn’t she handed him over? Why did she act as if he belonged here?
Max’s mother waited until the steward was out of sight and then shut the door.
She regarded Anton silently and gave him a sad smile.
He noticed her black dress draped across the bed. And Max’s jumper with the labels and the black armband. From somewhere deep inside he could feel the clamouring of questions that could not be asked.
‘Well,’ she said in a kindly voice. ‘You must be ready for bed too.’ She opened her suitcase and handed him a towel and a pair of Max’s pyjamas. ‘But first dry yourself and put these on.’
Anton went to the bathroom and changed.
When he returned, the woman turned to Max and pointed to the top bunk. He groaned in protest.
‘Bed,’ she said. ‘Now.’
Max climbed into the bunk and screwed his eyes tightly closed.
‘I am asleep,’ he said.
His mother gave another sad smile. She reached into her bag and gave Anton a small package wrapped in newspaper.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Eat this. Then sleep.’
She went back into the bathroom and closed the door. Anton feverishly tore open the paper and started to shove small pieces of cold chicken into his mouth.
When it was finished he lay back and closed his eyes. A little later he heard the woman come out of the bathroom. By now Max was breathing heavily. Anton could tell by the regular sound that the boy really was asleep.
Anton lay there with one arm across his chest, the green puppet on the pillow next to him. He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to answer any questions the woman might ask. He heard her bed squeak and then a click as she turned off the light.
The motion of the ship was now rhythmic like the gentle swing of a cradle. And, although he did not believe its promise of peaceful slumber, the movement was comforting and he allowed himself to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.
* * *
In the morning, the woman gave both boys a shake. She was already dressed for the day.
‘Come on, sleepyheads,’ she said. ‘Time for breakfast. Hurry up or we’ll be late for the last sitting.’
Both boys quickly dressed. Max was jumping up and down and waving the red puppet. ‘Christopher, Christopher, Christopher,’ he yelled.
‘No,’ said his mother. ‘This is Anton. Christopher has gone. Anton is your new friend.’
‘New friend, Anton, Anton, nice boy, nice boy,’ said Max.
Anton went through the motions of dressing and washing his face as if in a dream. Why hadn’t she dragged him off to the captain as a stowaway? He wanted to say something but was frightened to break the spell that seemed to have fallen over him. He kept thinking that he would wake up and find himself back in Wolfdog Hall.
As they left the cabin Anton looked back. Max had tucked the green puppet into the bottom bunk. It seemed to be staring reproachfully at Anton and for some reason he felt guilty for going off without it.
They made their way along the narrow corridors and up a number of staircases. Max’s mother stopped every now and then to check a map of the boat. She peered into a room with an open door where two women and a man were patching uniforms and tablecloths.
‘I wonder if passengers can use this room,’ she said. ‘I like sewing.’
‘Hungry,’ said Max.
His mother pointed at a sign at the end of the corridor. ‘There it is,’ she said. ‘Dining Room.’
The dining room was a large windowless room with fifty or so tables. They were all bolted to the floor. Families chattered excitedly after their first night at sea. Friendship groups were already forming as the emigrants chose seats next to people they had met the d
ay before. Max’s mother selected a quiet table in a corner.
She pointed to a blackboard where the limited offerings were scrawled in white chalk. Some of the items had been crossed out. ‘We’d better hurry,’ she said. ‘Before everything’s gone. What are you going to have, Anton?’
He looked bewildered and then saw crew members threading their way through the tables dispensing food from large trays.
‘Salami and rolls,’ he said.
When the food came, Anton shovelled it into his mouth as if he had never eaten before. Max’s mother smiled. But still she said nothing of any importance. She merely commented on the meal and the bad manners of some children at the next table.
Finally, she said, ‘Kids like that will pick on Max. They’ll call him names: Chrome Dome, Simple Simon and things like that. They’ll follow him around and snatch his badges or his beanie. They’ll laugh at his bald head and give him a hard time.’
Anton gave her a sympathetic glance.
‘His brother Christopher would have looked out for him on the boat.’ Her voice began to tremble. She took a deep breath and a few seconds to compose herself.
‘He was killed in a fire,’ she said. ‘Max misses him. We were all ready to emigrate when it happened. Only a few weeks ago.’
Anton, gasped. ‘That’s terrible,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Some people said we shouldn’t leave but we had already been chosen to go to the New Land. Some of the lucky few. It was our one and only chance.’
‘Yes,’ said Anton. ‘If you’ve got a bad deal, get out of it. And move on.’
She stared at him thoughtfully. ‘If only it was as easy as that,’ she said. She nodded at Max, who didn’t seem interested in their conversation. He was eyeing a steward who was carrying a plate of sausages from table to table.
Anton knew she was right. The memory of his mother was raw inside him. It took time to get over something like that. If you ever did.
‘Max needs someone to look out for him,’ she said. ‘And I need … some space.’
‘Sausage,’ yelled Max. He held one aloft in his fingers. His mother gently took it from his hand and put it on the plate.
‘Manners,’ was all she said. Then she turned back to Anton.
‘Now,’ she said. ‘You tell me your story. The whole story. The truth. Don’t you have someone, somewhere who can look after you?’
So, Anton told her the truth. His father and two uncles had both been killed in the fighting. All of his mother’s family had died when their street was bombed. And then, only two months ago she had drowned. She couldn’t swim. He hadn’t been there when it happened. No one had been there. They found her body washed up on the beach. He had no one. He told her about Wolfdog Hall.
‘I’m never going back there,’ he said. ‘Never ever.’
She stared at him thoughtfully, saying nothing while Max demolished another sausage.
Finally she said, ‘If I take you to the captain they will send you back where you came from on the first boat going the other way.’
He said nothing. He knew it was true.
The children at the next table had started to throw food at each other. Their parents didn’t seem to mind. She nodded towards them. ‘I can’t have kids like that teasing him and calling him names. His brother used to protect him but now he’s … gone. He needs someone else to look out for him – especially around the other kids.’
Anton tried to make sense of what she was saying. It seemed impossible.
‘Me?’ he said finally.
‘You seem a nice boy,’ she said. ‘He likes you. You’re smart. And you’re good with him. You don’t treat him like he’s … simple.’ She obviously found the word distasteful.
‘If it works out, the arrangement could become permanent. When we get to the New Land, you could live with us.’
Anton could hardly believe what he was hearing. She was offering him a home. But what if Max didn’t like him? Or what if he failed to protect him? What then? It would be off to an orphanage somewhere.
He stared at Max sitting there in a jumper covered in badges, happily wolfing down his food, the red puppet on the table next to him. Anton felt a warm glow of affection. He liked Max. They liked each other. It might just work. But it was risky. If anything happened to Max on his watch he would be back where he started. The thought of another loss was unbearable. He would have to watch Max like a hawk.
Anton impulsively held out his hand.
‘Deal,’ he said.
Max’s mother gave a little laugh and took the out-stretched hand.
‘Deal,’ she said. ‘But please don’t let me down.’
Max suddenly started to cackle excitedly.
‘Deal,’ he yelled. ‘Deal, deal, deal.’
His mother looked at him in surprise but didn’t respond.
‘Okay,’ she said to Anton. ‘Go out and have some fun. Take him for a walk around the deck to explore the ship. And explain things to him. But don’t let him near the railing. Or the swimming pool. He can’t swim.’
‘Can’t swim,’ mumbled Max.
Anton grinned. ‘That makes two of us, Max,’ he said.
She stood up and patted her son on the head. ‘Do what Anton tells you,’ she said. Then, dropping her voice to a whisper she leaned down and spoke in Anton’s ear. ‘I need time alone. I have to pretend to be happy, for Max. But I also have to grieve for my lost son. I need room to cry.’
She blinked back tears and then added, ‘So do you. I will make sure you have your own time, as well.’
She stood up and made her way across the dining room and was gone.
Seven
When the boys had finished every last morsel of their breakfast Anton said, ‘Come on. Let’s explore.’
‘Let’s ’plore,’ said Max happily. He held up the little red puppet and pretended to make it talk.
‘Nice Anton,’ he squeaked.
They made their way up a staircase and emerged into bright sunlight. The sea was flat and blue and full of hope. But the ship was tired. Peeling paint and rust told a tale of neglect and wear. The crew had tried to disguise its history as a troop ship but its battle scars still showed.
Faded deckchairs and old sofas were being claimed by parents holding books and magazines. Children were playing deck quoits; some were eyeing the tiny swimming pool wondering if it would be warm enough yet.
The migrants were trying to adjust to their first taste of freedom and safety. Learning how to relax. Slowly putting aside the terrors that had come with them like unpacked luggage. A small group hung over the railings and stared at the flat sea as it swirled past.
Suddenly an excited cry went up.
‘Dolphins, dolphins.’
The chairs were quickly deserted as the other passengers rushed to the railings.
Max rushed with them.
‘Come back, come back,’ shouted Anton. But he was too late. Max shoved his way through the jostling bodies and cried out excitedly. ‘Sharks, sharks, sharks.’
‘No, not sharks, dolphins,’ said an old man.
Anton grabbed Max’s hand and pulled. But the excited boy clung to the rail and refused to budge.
Anton groaned with despair. He had already failed in his first task and let Max rush to the railing. The boy’s mother might even be in the crowd somewhere. He snatched a quick glance behind him but couldn’t see her.
Soon the dolphins disappeared and the crowd dispersed. With a sinking heart Anton noticed a woman dressed all in black disappearing through a door. He couldn’t be sure. It might have been her. She could have been following him to see if he was up to the task.
If she was watching, he would need to prove himself. But even if she wasn’t, there was no way he would ever let Max come to any harm.
A group of children hurried past with their parents. One of them suddenly shouted out, ‘There it is: Recreation Room.’
‘Come on, Max,’ said Anton. ‘This is a safe place to
start.’
They followed the group through the steel door into a dark, noisy room. There were small children in a sandpit and others playing with building blocks. One wall held a few tattered books and nearby were a number of tables where children were painting and drawing.
Max’s eyes opened wide. He rushed to one of the drawing tables and snatched up a crayon. He scribbled excitedly and then thrust the piece of paper at Anton.
‘What it say?’ he yelled. ‘What it say?’
Anton received the words like an angry slap to the face.
‘Rubbish,’ he snapped out.
He saw the look of surprise and bewilderment on Max’s face.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.’ He took the piece of paper and pretended to read it. ‘It says, “Max is very clever”.’
Max beamed.
Anton was glad that Max’s mother had not overheard that exchange. She would have found it hard to forgive him.
He took Max’s hand and led him back out onto the deck. ‘I have to teach you a few things. So that you are safe.’
‘Are safe,’ said Max. He pulled off his beanie and scratched his bald head.
At that moment a tall, good-looking boy passed them and mumbled.
‘Dumb head.’
Max blinked in alarm.
‘Don’t take any notice,’ said Anton. ‘He thinks he knows more than you. But that’s not what counts. You are kind. You are friendly. I might know more than you but that doesn’t mean that I’m better than you. You took my hand and brought me onto this ship. You’ve given me a life. Imagine that.’
He stopped speaking. For a moment, he thought that Max was going to cry. But he just said, ‘’Magine that.’
‘There’s a lot I can teach you,’ said Anton. ‘Firstly, don’t go near the railings. It’s dangerous. And I will get into trouble if you do. If you fall over you’ll … drown.’
The word brought tears to his eyes. He tried unsuccessfully to blink back the memory of his dead mother.
Max was pointing to a lifebuoy that was roped to the railings.
Anton said, ‘Those are to save people if they fall in. Lifebuoys.’
A Different Boy Page 3