Blood Donors

by Steve Tasane

We all look up. Mum.

  Mustaph force a smile and say Am I goin’ to die?

  No she say. Like my son said, you’re just makin’ a mess on your floor. Sis! She clap her hands, focus Sis’s attention. Clean towels from the bathroom. Quick as you can.

  Mum shoot me a look, let me know she is in control. She bend down close to Mustaph, open up the first-aid kit she brought with her.

  If I ain’t dyin’ says Mustaph, then how come I’m bleedin’ so much?

  Don’t be such a baby she say. Your friend hit you in a vein is why. You should be glad the nail didn’t pierce an artery.

  His eyes get wider still. How do you know it’s not an artery?

  Mustapha, if she’d hit an artery, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be unconscious.

  While she’s talkin’, she’s cleanin’ the wound and she is right, it ain’t hardly nothin’. I reckon Mustapha is a wuss.

  Mum applies a dressin’, presses down against the wound, and the blood is beginnin’ to slow down.

  This be the point where you cheer up the patient with a joke, so I say Hey, boy, at least the Megabugs ain’t goin’ to try and get you now. You lost so much blood, you ain’t got nothin’ left to quench a gnat’s thirst.

  Sis, Mustaph and Mum all stare at me in a highly unamused fashion.

  What about the nail stickin’ out of my foot? ask Musk.

  Mum peers close, puts her fingers on it. It isn’t anything. It is much the same as if you stepped on a drawing pin.

  Oh, that’s good—

  What’s that over there? Mum point at the wall.

  Mustaph looks.

  She yanks.

  Mustaph scream like he bein’ murdered. Again.

  You children say Mum, you like to pretend you are so tough. Where is your real bravery?

  My real bravery just bled all over the carpet.

  We all smile.

  Is he goin’ to need a hospital? asks Sis.

  I look out the window. Last of the light is fadin’.

  Mum shake her head. We’ve got an emergency meeting just starting. Can you hobble?

  Oh yeah say Mus. I been practisin’ all my life.

  Chainsaw Envy

  We can hear people of The Finger filin’ past Mustaph’s flat, makin’ their way down to the meetin’, or draggin’ wheelie bags packed with essentials, makin’ their escape.

  We got to go I say to Mum.

  Time runnin’ out. She dash up to get Connor and Sabre. Me and Sis play nursemaid to our feeble friend.

  Five minutes later, my family steppin’ out, together, make our way to the big meetin’. I ain’t never seen the stairwell so busy with life. Mums carryin’ babes in their arms, kids wieldin’ cricket bats and fryin’ pans, gangs of men with knives, hammers, guns. Bugs doin’ well to keep a low profile, they ain’t goin’ to fare so well in a straight-up clash with mobs from The Finger.

  As we make our way down among the mix of battlers and evacuees I see a couple of Megas been caught out under the harsh light of the stairwell – what left of them. I begin to feel hope in my heart.

  Me and Mum ain’t sayin’ much. Feels like we said so much already, without the need for words. She keepin’ Connor under her wing, and I got Sabretooth on a improvised piece of string. We all goin’ to stick together now.

  Mus is on crutches that Mum magicked up for him when she went for my bro and my dog. He is in better spirits.

  Everybody all a buzz.

  Community Room on the first floor, little more than a bare hall, furnished with wonky wooden chairs and decorated by murals of kids’ games, of a artistic quality like they been painted by the kids themselves. We grab ourselves some seats. Hall contain about one hundred citizens and lined with beefy men look like they work as bouncers or bailiffs. Look like they squash giant bugs in their spare time, for fun. So, you know, place has quite a pleasant atmosphere. First time in a while people feel safe, get me?

  Hush fall across the room, people turn their heads, stare at a figure marchin’ down the aisle like there’s a serious beef need settlin’, carryin’ – I kid you not – a chainsaw. Chainsaw is switched on, blade runnin’ round like a rabid dog, motor growlin’ with teeth-shakin’ menace. Teeth of the saw already clotted with bits of bug leg, schnozzles and squashed cherry eyes. This is Big Auntie, her steel-capped boots thuddin’ with authority as she make her way to the front.

  Never mind the nail gun, now I got serious chainsaw envy.

  Behind her is Compo, tryin’ to look self-important, but comin’ across as a fat-belly weasel. Troop of six minders marchin’ either side of them, make Compo seem wimpier still.

  They get to the front. Big Auntie turn to face us, switch off the chainsaw to speak. Applause breaks out.

  Good evenin’ to you all Big Auntie begin. I shall keep this short. Most of us have now seen first-hand the menace we facin’ here in The Finger. Apologies owed to the youth among us who worked so hard to put the word out, and were doubted. That doubt – disbelief – still exists with authorities on the outside, as Officer Cotton will attest.

  Here she give a nod towards Compo, who open his mouth to begin his own speech, but she talk over him. We got a team, even as I speak, workin’ on tryin’ to persuade the council and the police to come in and give us the assistance, the protection we need. But lackin’ that, we got to protect ourselves.

  Murmur of approval passes through the crowd. Hands lift high, bearin’ weapons of ’stonishin’ range and imagination. Big Auntie looks us over approvingly.

  She holds up her hand, callin’ for silence once more. Lot of families already upped and left. That is good. Sensible thing to do, especially those with littl’uns. If you got any place to go: please! Go! Quick as you can, no messin’.

  But some of us ain’t got nowhere to go to. Some of us ain’t got no wherewithal to go where we want to go. Some of us invalid, bed-bound, and the council ain’t left us with no lift with which to move ourselves. Some of us can’t go stay with our family, our cousins, on account of our cousins bein’ on the eleventh floor, our uncles bein’ on the eight floor, our in-laws bein’ three flats over to our left. The Finger the only place we got.

  But we are all here for each other. Those of us that ain’t in Fightin’ Patrols, lock yourselves in, in large groups. Be strong together. Lock your windows. Block your letter boxes. Keep your eyes peeled and make sure there’s always at least one of you wide awake! Remember: safety in numbers. Ain’t nobody else here for us, so our families, our friends, our neighbours are all we have. We just got to make it through the night.

  Meantime, we keep tryin’ to bring in the outside help. Here she lower her voice, show she got somethin’ heavy to lay on us. But let me show you, even now, what we up against.

  She thrust out her hand, holdin’ out her phone. Swing it wide so whole audience get to see, like this the mos’ dramatic weapon in the world. See this? she declare. This is the only protection we been given … Council Emergency 24-Hour Phoneline. Officer Cotton? She turn to Compo, give him his moment of importance. He happily takes the phone from her. She say I dialled that 24-hour number. Tell us, Officer, what response do you hear?

  Compo holds the phone to his ear, listens close. He says Lines are closed after 5.00 p.m.!

  Chorus of boos fills the room. First time in his life Compo heard boos that ain’t aimed at him. Big smile slide across his chops.

  Big Auntie turns to face him. Officer Cotton, what’ve you got to say about that? Tell me what your own colleagues got to offer us.

  He coughs, try and bring himself together. I am sad to report he says, that my superior officers at the police station were not prepared to accept the evidence that I personally captured and took to the station. Indeed, they actually laughed when I showed them an example of a giant bug proboscis.

  Shame! somebody call out.

  Big Auntie has served him a perfect ball. I ain’t sure whether she kind-hearted or cruel-minded. All Comp gotta do is hit his home run.r />
  So basically he conclude, it’s just us, on our own. Er, but we’re in it together. You, me and the youth of The Finger, united against our common enemy!

  Cheers all round. Man is beamin’ like this the best day of his life.

  Big Auntie steps forward again. She take a deep breath and her voice booms through the room. We got strength in numbers, solidarity. Tell me the truth now, if you was to place bets on who still be runnin’ around by mornin’ – us or the giant bugs – who would you put your money on?

  The Fingerrr! someone yells out.

  Several others echo the sentiment. The Fingerrr!

  Big Auntie joins the enthusiastic answer by revvin’ up the chainsaw. Its roar fills the room. The Finger has stood up against worse!

  Big Auntie ain’t called Big Auntie for nothin’.

  We whoop and we cheer. This feel sweet. This is everythin’ I been waitin’ for.

  So this is the plan. She feed us her mos’ serious face. We have set up a roamin’ posse of Mega-splatters. We got twenty of ’em, primed to split into assault groups of five. And we got guard groups to look out for those who can’t defend themselves. Group leaders tell everyone their mobile numbers. We all hooked up. And we are tooled up.

  Sis turn to me and say True. We got ’nuff weapons to fill an entire Crimewatch series. Bugs ain’t got no chance. We be the Neighbourhood Watch from Hell.

  Oh Dear

  Ten minutes later, we all gathered in our livin’ room – me, Mum, Con, Sis, and Mustaph, nice ’n’ cosy on a pile of cushions, Mus’s bad leg levered up onto a dinin’ chair. I ain’t hardly seen him look happier.

  Big Auntie drop in on us, give us one final check before lock-down. Connor shuffle nervously by Mum’s side. Mum strokin’ his head. Big Auntie gesture towards me with her chainsaw. Young man, you a lucky boy, ’cos you got your big brother Marshall O’Connor lookin’ out for you. Ain’t no one tougher, or braver.

  I’d be a bit tougher and braver if she’d let me have use of her chainsaw. But I can tell she ain’t relinquishin’ that for no one.

  Mus look more like a invalid than a soldier, on account of bein’ all patched up where he got accidentally nail-gunned. But he’s brought along his spray cans, now we know we can use them as extra-lethal bug spray. And my hound Sabretooth is puttin’ on his bravest face.

  Our task is to keep each other safe and protect six of the littl’uns, kids of the Mega-splatter Posse. Posses made up of a mix of dads and mums – some of the women are fiercer than the men, yeah? Kids are settled in mine and Con’s room, which has been checked and quadruple-checked for bug access. Even so, we goin’ to take turns sentryin’ through the night. Right now, the littl’uns all glued to a selection of DVDs we set for ’em. Best way to keep ’em awake, innit?

  Me and mine can take care of each other. This night is goin’ to pass, easy and safe.

  So this is us, five brave warriors and our dog all mobbed together in the livin’ room. Sofa pull out into one of them sofa beds, Mum and Con-Con sharin’, and I bagsied the big armchair, as I am the eldest male of the house. Mustaph lyin’ in his sickbed of cushions like a pampered princess. Sis wrapped in a sleepy bag.

  Let’s play some games says Mum. She don’ look like she in the mood for games. Her face is grey. She can’t leave her phone alone. She give Con-Con her biggest, fakest smile.

  Cool say Con-Con, snatchin’ up his game controller.

  No, no, no. She shake her head. Together. People games.

  Con-Con screw his face up into big frown, as if to say You is surely insane?

  Mustaph say I ’member we used to play this game where you have to say name of a animal, like rabbit, and the next person has to say a animal beginnin’ with the last letter of rabbit, tortoise for example. Next person has to say a ‘e’ animal, and it keep goin’ until person can’t think of no animal that hasn’t already been said, then they out.

  Let’s play that one! say Con.

  Is Muskrat serious? We maybe all goin’ to die tonight. He ain’t even fakin’ it, like Mum.

  But we got to put on a brave face, for my bro if nothin’ else. What about that game where you got to answer the questions, but you ain’t allowed to say yes or no. What about that? I say.

  Mustaph shrug. Whatevs.

  Sis, I notice, is watchin’ the walls. She is watchin’ the door. She is watchin’ the windows. Her eyes do not settle. We blocked up everythin’ we could think of, try and stop them Megas bustin’ in. But me and Sis both know they sneaky.

  We start the game. Mum looks at me and she say Am I the most beautiful mum in the world?

  She always try and catch me on that one. When we was little I’d of said Mummy, you the mos’ delicious mum in the whole of everywhere!

  I give her a look and say Mum, you know the answer.

  She smile at me, and I turn to Con-Con, and I say Poo! Bro, did you just poo-poo your pants?

  Oh yeah, man, the number of times I caught him on that one. But he extra focused this evenin’, and he say I mos’ certainly did not.

  Con turn to Mustapha, sneaky look on his face and say I bet you dirtied your pants when you found all them bugs coverin’ your tent?

  Without thinkin’, Mus goes No! like it the biggest insult in the world.

  Con in hysterics, rollin’ roun’, clappin’ his hands. You out, you fool! You ain’t supposed to say that word!

  Mustaph tut and cross his arms in a sulk. What a donut, gettin’ caught out by my idiot brother, first go too.

  I’m listenin’. Listenin’ hard. Do I hear a pitter-pat?

  Then Con turn to Sis and he say I bet you’re glad you didn’t make no stupid mistake like that?

  In my own head I hear it, that’s all. I am so wiped. Feel a black sleep creepin’ down on me.

  Sis ain’t no fool to fall for that trick of Con’s. But she can see Mustaph been put in a deep mood for bein’ so outwitted. Kind as ever, she catch my eye – just for a sec – and answer my bro Yes, I am.

  Con-Con shriekin’ with delight. You’re out! Out! Oh, you guys are rubbish at this.

  But Sis jus’ bein’ the diplomat. She stand up, go and peek in at the littl’uns.

  Now Connor turn to Mum and ask Mum, who is the best-lookin’, me or Mushface?

  My brother is a idiot. Yo, fool! You got to ask a question that got a yes or no answer.

  Immediately he point his stinky finger at me and yell Hey, Mum, Marshall loses – he just said yes and no!

  That’s cheatin’, Con. You know that don’t count!

  Yes, it do!

  Then I look at Mum and point my own finger at Con. There, Mum! He’s out as well, ’cos he jus’ said yes!

  Mum laugh, rollin’ on her side into Con-Con. I guess I’m the winner. She raise both arms in the air like boxin’ champ. As ever!

  But, you know, I ain’t had no sleep since night before yesterday. Sabretooth got his hairy head nuzzled in my lap, soft and warm. Dog sleepier than me. I’m feelin’ my eyelids startin’ to pull the wool over my eyeballs. Mum ask me a question that I ain’t hearin’, and she come kneel down next to me, stroke my hair. Marshy?

  I force my lids open. We are sittin’ in danger. My eyelids weigh heavier than borin’ old school books. Marshy, why don’t you let yourself get some sleep? You’ve already been a hero for us. Let someone else take first watch duty.

  My eyes open wide. Oh. And what happen when them Megabugs come?

  Mum waggle her rollin’ pin front of my eyes. They come, we start splattering. And we’ll yell out for you to wake, straight away. I promise.

  Mum, Connor ain’t goin’ to be able to watch himself. He too young.

  Boy come dive-bombin’ across the room, throwin’ Jackie Chan shapes, and makin’ the mos’ horrible racket, like it prove he can demolish a dozen of them monsters with his bare hands.

  Bugs gonna eat you alive, boy Mus tell him, helpfully.

  But Mum sittin’ there strokin’ my head, nice and soft. She half lift, half walk
me across to my room, slip me beneath the duvet of my bed.

  She say I’ll take first watch.

  Sound of cartoon movie biff bam bangin’ aroun’ the room. Kids eatin’ crisps.

  ’S a nice room.

  Mum, strokin’ away. Me, feelin’ them heavy school books drawin’ a veil over my wakefulness. Don’t you worry, Marshy, we’re all watchin’ for each other. You sleep easy now.

  Oh, it’s nice.

  Yeah…

  I’m awake!

  How long I been out? Clock on the wall say 4.15. What?

  I look across the room. A scatterin’ of littl’uns, propped against the wall on Con-Con’s bed, snuggled in sleepin’ bags across the floor like little caterpillars, sprawled across a bean bag like a discarded doll. Rugrats everywhere. What a sleepover.

  Over by the door, slumped in a chair from the kitchen, my little bro. He asleep on duty.

  I got a moment panic. Asleep on duty! But Connor ain’t got no Megabug slurpin’ away at him. Ain’t none of the other littl’uns either.

  Con I whisper, so as to wake him, but not the rugrats. Too soft, ain’t no noise at all from my mouth. Con! a little louder. Still ain’t no noise.

  Got to sit up, get up, go and wake him. Yo, I am tired. My arms and legs just ain’t havin’ none of this wakin’ business. Maybe I’ll jus’ keep watch myself, from here, horizontal guard duty.

  Out the corner of my eye, I see movement.

  Oh yeah, it’s me. My legs, startin’ to wake. And my arms, beneath the duvet.

  I am weird.

  What is my limbs up to under there? Be still.

  They won’t!

  Put my hands up to my cheek in freakiness.

  They ain’t at my cheek. They didn’t come. They still under the duvet, movin’ in weird rhythm. What am I doin’ under there? Pull up my hands.

  My hands won’t move.

  What is movin’?

  Con! I yell. Con!

  There is no sound. My tongue is asleep in my mouth. My jaw glued shut.

  CONNOR!

  Please, no. Please please please, no.

  Roll my eyeballs down at the duvet, four lumps under there, ain’t me.

  Listen.

  Slurp.

  Please, no!

  CONNOR!