by Cliff McNish
Sighing, raising his arms to keep us safe, Walter began wading through the water like some great god of the sea setting out across his domain. Me and the twins were less impressive, bobbing up and down like little kiddies on his shoulders.
What a night! And as soon as we got over the big stretch of water, the twins were off again! There weren’t any gang kids about, of course, not in weather like this. I got lost as soon as we left our familiar home patch, but the twins had noses for exactly where they were going. Then, abruptly, they stopped.
There was someone leaning into the wind in front of us.
It was a girl. After Walter, I’d half-expected any new discovery of the twins would turn out to be another giant, but this girl seemed normal enough: average height, about my age, lengthy medium-brown hair. I couldn’t tell much else about her because she’d obviously fallen in some of Coldharbour’s best filth. What I thought was a misshapen nose turned out to be a blob of mud. I couldn’t believe what she was wearing, though – trainers, a blouse and a flimsy jacket, as if the storm had caught her while on a little stroll to the shops. But she was no scrapper, this one. I could tell straight away that there was something unusual about her, and it had nothing to do with her appearance.
She hadn’t even noticed me. What she had noticed – unmistakably noticed – were the twins sniffing round her feet, and the shape of Walter looming over her like a town. She kept glancing between them in the way I’d seen others do – as if unsure which to concentrate on, who was the most dangerous.
Walter had his own way of greeting people. When he came across them he tried to put them at ease by giving them old lopsided. It didn’t normally help much. They usually held up their arms and went ‘Ugghhhhaaagghhh!’ anyway, but this time was different. Once she’d got over the initial shock of seeing him the girl, whoever she was, smiled back and seemed to relax entirely. ‘Hello Walter!’ she said, holding out her hand as if she met monster-sized boys like him every day. The effect on Walter was amazing. His face almost exploded with disbelief and happiness. He took her hand as if it was a precious flower, shaking it, virtually wagging her arm off.
‘I’m Helen,’ she said to him, as calmly as you like. ‘Pleased to meet you. Don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you.’
I just gaped. Her telling him: Don’t be frightened? Who was this girl?
She bent down to the twins. There’s nothing more scary than your first sight of those two fiddling round your ankles – I knew that – but again the new girl was unconcerned. In fact, I thought she was going to pat their heads for a moment. Instead, she just said, ‘It’s not me, is it? You’re looking for someone else, aren’t you?’
Emily and Freda nodded, their heads up, running all around her.
‘Go on,’ the girl said. ‘Keep looking. He’s here somewhere. I can’t find him.’
Walter was grinning like a love-struck idiot at the new girl. The twins had run off into the darkness, seemingly happy to do whatever she asked of them. It was hard to look dignified hanging off Walter’s arm, but I did my best. ‘Excuse me … Helen, is it?’ I said. ‘Who do you think you are, telling the twins what to do?’
‘Oh, I see,’ she replied, looking at me for the first time. ‘You think Emily and Freda should be standing beside you, in case I’m dangerous.’ She shook her head. ‘You don’t even know what’s going on, do you? You don’t know what the twins are looking for?’
‘Do you know?’ I asked. Then: ‘Wait a minute! Hold on! How come you know the twins’ names? And how do you know Walter?’
Walter put me down and covered Helen with his hands to keep the rain off. I didn’t object because she obviously needed it far more than me. What a miserable, drenched state she was in! For a minute Helen simply stood under Walter’s fingers while he did his warm-breath trick over her.
Then she laughed. ‘No,’ she said to me. ‘I am definitely not his sister.’
‘What?’ A mad thought had entered my head that somehow she and Walter were part of the same family, with this girl the normal-looking one. ‘You – you read my thoughts,’ I whispered. ‘How … did you do that?’
‘It’s nothing I can teach you,’ she replied.
And then she gasped. I think she would have fallen over, except that Walter caught her jacket.
‘W-w-what’s w-wrong?’ he asked, wrapping his entire body around her.
Helen looked at me in awe. ‘What are you?’ she hissed. ‘What wonderful thing is in your mind?’
I didn’t know what she meant at first, but my beauty did. It opened itself up to her like a flower. Helen tottered back a few steps in amazement. Walter held her upright and, holding onto him, she glanced rapidly between us.
‘The roar,’ she murmured. ‘So you hear it, too …’
I stared at her. ‘Do you know what it is?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’d hoped you’d be able to explain … but you’re just as confused as me, aren’t you? You’ve no idea, either …’
Walter continued to shield Helen and keep her dry. The twins were still out of sight somewhere behind us. Then I heard them both squeal, followed by silence.
‘What’s wrong?’ I called out.
Emily and Freda tore out of the darkness. Their faces were terrified. I’d never seen the twins look really scared like this before, and they headed straight for Walter. Without hesitation, he gathered them towards him with one arm. With his other arm he picked Helen up. ‘T-Tommy! Climb on!’ he ordered. There was such command in his voice that I obeyed immediately. Like a petrified little kid I scrambled up his legs and perched on his chest.
With Walter holding us all, we waited.
And something emerged from the darkness.
I say something, because what was it? I’d seen the state of some abandoned-looking kids in Coldharbour, but nothing resembling this horror. Was it a boy? If it was, some of him was falling to pieces. His hands were the worst thing. Parts of them were flaking off as I looked at him. As soon as I saw that nausea shuddered through me. I retched. I had to crouch down to contain the pain. At the same time my beauty erupted. Like a force of nature, I felt it burst out of me. ‘What’s … happening?’ I glanced at Helen, but her eyes were glazed.
‘Oh …’ she murmured, over and over. ‘Oh …’
The twins gripped each other in a fierce embrace. Walter made sure that he held us all securely. My nausea eased off somewhat, and I looked at the creature-boy again. His appearance was beyond belief: golden skin, shining, like a covering of metal, but with one part, on his wrist, a complete contrast: silver, glinting like a furnace.
Emily took my arm. ‘Ee’s saying something!’
It was true. You could see the boy’s mouth opening and closing painfully, trying to make a sound. At last he managed to struggle one word past his lips. ‘M-Milo.’ He said it once more. Then his throat constricted. You could almost see it collapsing inside his neck.
What kind of boy was this? He couldn’t walk; his legs seemed to be useless. And his eyes! No lids! He had no lids with which to blink! His hands were also deformed in some way – I didn’t want to look too closely. Everything about him was awful, but the scariest part was the way he moved. Because his legs didn’t work, he had to pull himself through the mud on his elbows.
I moved a step towards him – and immediately felt sick again. What was happening? My beauty was reaching out to him, and that was good – I’d expected that to happen – but I didn’t think it would hurt like this. When my beauty recognized who it was meant to help, I thought the outpouring would feel special for me as well. Instead, I could barely stand. My stomach cramped in agony with every swish forward of Milo’s arms.
Helen was staring at him, her mouth wide open. At first I thought she was simply feeling a mixture of pity and disbelief, the same as me. But it was more than that. She was weeping.
‘What kind of thing is it?’ I demanded. ‘A boy? Do you know? Is he dangerous?’
‘Milo.’ Walter said the name sof
tly, bending towards the creature-boy. He wanted to help him, at least pick him out of the mud. But Walter wasn’t certain he could do so and keep us safe as well.
‘Be careful, Walts,’ Freda said.
The boy steadily swished his way towards us. I could hardly believe that anyone so injured could move at all. As he drew closer I could hear his laboured breathing.
Helen started to moan, holding her head. ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t!’
‘What’s the matter?’ I said.
‘He’s …’ She couldn’t speak.
‘Can you read his thoughts?’ I shouted at her. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
The boy continued to head towards us. Emily and Freda gripped each other more tightly. All my Coldharbour-trained instincts told me that we should keep our distance. ‘Don’t let that thing near us, Walter!’ I said. ‘I mean it.’
The boy wriggled forward. It was terrible for all of us to watch, but the girl Helen was in absolute torment. She sobbed and sobbed. Then, just before the boy reached us, an extraordinary thing took place: some rain, splattering on his eyes, sizzled. Seeing that, even Walter took a step back.
‘Flipping heck!’ I whispered. I suddenly felt sick again, and retched several times. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ I shouted at Helen.
Tears were falling steadily down her face.
‘He’s altering,’ she choked out. ‘He’s … he’s changing.’
Walter reached out to help the boy. I flailed at his hand. ‘You idiot!’ I bellowed. ‘He might have a disease, something contagious!’
Helen’s eyes were pools. ‘It’s not that,’ she said. ‘Milo … he can’t … he can’t … he can’t … can’t … breathe!’ She swallowed hard, as if in great pain herself. ‘Oh, he’s in torment. His legs … are a dead weight to him … his brain is going mad trying to stop the pain, but nothing … can fight this much. His heart …’ She couldn’t go on.
I turned to stare at him. ‘Milo,’ I whispered.
He was nearer to us now, mouth open, gulping for air. His hands were like red wrecks. He held them out to Helen, as if he wanted her to pick him up and take him away from all this.
‘I …’ Helen backed away. ‘I can’t … stand it … I can’t …’
‘What does he expect from us?’ I demanded. ‘Helen! What’s going on?’
The boy was so close now that we could hear for ourselves what Helen had been trying to tell us about his heart. What a force! It was stronger than ours. You could hear it beating from his chest, a mighty nerve-jangling thump. His head continued to hiss softly when the rain struck it.
Suddenly I could see that Helen was losing it. She stepped away from the boy. ‘Stop it!’ She held her head as if to shut him out. ‘I can’t … take … it’s too much! I’m … burning … I’m burning to death!’
She screamed, slipped from Walter’s grip, and ran away into the night.
‘Don’t – g-go!’ begged Walter. ‘H-Helen!’ He seemed about to launch off after her, but Milo held out his stubs of hands to us, and Walter stopped.
‘Toms, help ’im!’ Freda was saying. ‘Do something!’
‘All right,’ I said, trying to think. I was mixed up about the boy, much more nervous of him than Walter or the twins. Why couldn’t he just say more, help me to trust him? Another cramp of sickness welled up in me. Walter knelt beside Milo. ‘What are you doing?’ I said. ‘Don’t touch him!’
‘He’s s-sick,’ Walter said.
‘I know he’s sick! You heard Helen. He’s changing into something else. Who knows what!’ I heard my voice rising out of control, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was so scared! For some reason, Milo frightened me half to death. ‘Look at him!’ I said. ‘Is that a boy? Is it human? All that gold! I’m not sure …’
‘Poor harmed thing,’ Freda murmured, bending towards him.
‘Don’t!’ I said.
‘We gotta do something!’ Emily demanded.
Then Milo smiled at us – an actual smile.
Putting me and the twins down, Walter went to pick him up. It was not clear how to safely do so. Walter gently explored his body, searching for soft spots and harder ones. Experimentally, he tried moving one of Milo’s arms. A cracking sound made him stop at once – a bone broken. Walter glanced desperately at me. I had no idea what to say. In the end Walter simply scooped the entire boy up in his great palms, trying to figure out what to do next.
The twins waited near him anxiously.
Milo was looking at me. He smiled again. He lay like a madman’s misshapen doll in Walter’s hands, smiling at me as if I was Father Christmas or something! An awful pain made me shudder again. I doubled up, retching over and over.
‘Where are you from?’ I asked him. ‘What are you?’
He didn’t answer. I don’t think he was able to. He just kept smiling at me gravely, as if it was me who needed help, not him.
The twins skittered up to me. I knew what they were going to say.
‘Oh, no!’ I told them. ‘Out of the question! No way. I’m not having that in the shack!’
‘Take ’im! Take ’im!’ The twins started up an almighty wailing.
‘You gots to, Toms!’
‘Heal ’im! You can do it, Toms!’
‘I can’t heal him!’ I said. ‘I can’t!’
‘Bring ’im back then. We’ll look after ’im. We’ll heal ’im!’
‘Heal how?’ I protested.
Walter stared at me. ‘Tommy, you c-can’t … you can’t … just leave him o-o-out h-here.’
What was I going to do? I looked at Milo, covered in rain, steam rising from his boiling face. I looked at the twins, rubbing my hands and feet, trying to persuade me. Did they think I had no pity for the boy? Of course I did!
‘Bring him then,’ I said, ‘but … I’m not touching him, and he stays outside the shack, not in it. Do you understand?’
Walter nodded, and was about to set off when he frowned. ‘C-can’t c-carry him,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘Rain’s w-worse. Can’t h-hold Milo and you all as well.’
Walter glanced at the twins and they understood at once. Taking a deep breath, each of the girls stood on the soles of their feet. For a few moments they practised moving co-operatively in an upright way together, their arms held like a cradle. With the utmost care Walter distributed Milo’s weight between them.
Then, arranging the twins and Milo onto his left side, and me on his right, Walter started off. He took one careful step at a time, to avoid shaking the boy too much.
I clung to Walter the whole way. I didn’t even complain, I was so miserable from all the rain and cold. I could hardly look at Milo. Why did he scare me so much?
A long journey, but eventually we made it back. The twins immediately took the boy inside the shack. ‘No! No!’ I said. ‘Leave him out!’ But they weren’t listening to me. Nobody seemed to be tonight, and I was too weary to argue. I slumped in a corner of the shack as far away from the boy as possible, watching as the girls dried him off.
Milo, I thought, trying to get used to the unusual sound of his name. Milo.
The twins attempted to dribble some water down his lips. Milo didn’t want it. They tried to give him a bite to eat, but he just twisted his head away. So instead Freda got out my mattress and carefully put the boy down on the cleanest sheet.
‘They’re mine!’ I said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘’Ave a heart,’ Emily said, ashamed of my behaviour.
Milo lay there wretchedly, boiling-skinned, steaming up the shack, his monumental heart slamming away. Every time he shuddered tiny bits of skin flaked off his hands, like pollen in a wind. It was horrible. I turned away. I’d never felt offended by the sight of anything so much in my whole life.
Walter prodded me.
‘Leave me alone!’ I said.
Angrily Freda grabbed my face, twisted it, made me look at the boy.
‘If you’d a kindness, you’
d give it ’im,’ she said. ‘If you’d a care! Go on, Tommy. Give ’im some of it. Give ’im some o’ yer beauty.’
‘Just shut up!’ I whined. ‘I let you bring him back, didn’t I? Just be grateful for that! He’s got my bed! I’m not giving him anything else, do you hear?’
The twins looked at me with contempt, but they didn’t understand. I didn’t want to tell them yet, because I didn’t know what it meant myself. You see, I was already giving Milo all my beauty. From the first moment I saw him the beauty had been flowing out of me and into him like a tide.
Twelve
storm
HELEN
I ran into the storm, trying to find a way back to Dad.
Milo – a boy’s name. I ran from whatever he was. Ridiculous! As if he could catch me! As if a wounded boy propelled only by his arms could catch me!
Finally, to get my breath and make certain I was alone, I stopped running. As soon as I did, I felt the rain cooling me. Cooling me? No, I realized: that was what Milo had felt; he had felt such relief when the rain splashed against his hot skin. I was still experiencing his pain.
Oh, what was he? I don’t know what I’d expected, but not him, or anything like him. I knew he would be different, knew that he would be in need, but not that much need. I felt seared by contact with him. I felt scorched.
I’d expected a golden boy, not something that reached down inside me to burn!
And now I was lost in a storm in Coldharbour. No roads here, no landmarks to show the way home. The boy had led me to him, but where had I run to? The landscape was black all around, except for rare flashes of lightning shooting silently down the sky, followed by thunder. All I could see in those brief lit-up moments was rain, rain hitting me in the face, rain churning up the earth, or erupting in filthy rivulets around my feet.