“Wait,” I cried but she waded out into the deeper water. I splashed in and knocked her over. As she tried to scramble to her feet I picked up a heavy stone and hit her in the side of the head. She grunted and fell back. I gave her another clout and watched crimson strands unzip from her hair and spiral away with the current. She lay face down in the water, not moving.
*
I’d seen what alcohol did to my mother and had no real curiosity about it. But when Troy said we should all get drunk to celebrate the blood sacrifice, I went along with it quick enough. Their parents had prepared another barbecue and they fed us four as well as their own, before they got down to the business of drinking. They were well along by the time Jumbo and Troy snuck inside the caravans and stole some bottles of beer and cider and brought them down to our spot below the bridge.
I felt uneasy about letting Megan drink but Troy pointed out that Hector was the same age. “Besides,” he said. “She’s as much part of the tribe as any of us.”
Megan took the two-litre bottle of cider from Izzy. It looked huge in her small hands. “I want to, Cai.”
“Listen to her,” Troy said. “It’s right that we all do this.”
I relented and Megan tipped the bottle to her mouth. When it came to me, I took a big swallow to show I was committed. It tasted sweeter than I’d expected, and the others egged me on. I took another swallow and when a bottle of beer came my way, I had a drink of that too. There was something mysterious about the half-light and the way the shadows shifted along the river that made me think about my father. I’d always believed he’d run off, maybe because my mother had driven him to distraction. Yet, I had a memory of her being different, of being more of a mother than she was, and I couldn’t picture him leaving that woman. But there by the river, I guessed there might be reasons outside the normal ones for his leaving.
It wasn’t long before we were all feeling merry. We fooled around and talked at the same time, telling jokes, bullshitting each other. We must’ve been well along by the time Troy suggested the game, else I doubt we’d have agreed to it. At the time it didn’t seem so bad, and surely not the kind of game to cause a rift. Troy and Hector went first. They sat facing each other with the rest of us in a half circle around them. Troy kept his hands down by his side and his brother slapped him across the face. Troy hardly blinked, then it was his turn. His clout reddened Hector’s cheek. The younger boy flinched but gritted his teeth and smacked Troy harder than he’d done first time.
Hector lost the game, as we all knew he would, when he tried to dodge his brother’s fourth smack. Next up was Izzy and Annie, then Jumbo and Vic. Jonathan and Megan got to smack each other next while I had to sit out the first round. I flinched when I watched Megan get hit, even though Jonathan went easy on her. She pulled back after the fourth blow. I guessed nobody was taking it too serious, at least not enough to hurt anyone.
In the second round, I was paired up with Vic. We hit each other five times, each smack harder than the next until Vic pulled back out of reach. The drink dulled the sting of each blow and the elation I felt was some compensation. By the third round, when Izzy and Jumbo sat facing each other, things were getting intense. When Jumbo hit her with a closed fist that knocked her back onto the grass, Troy said he’d broke the rules. When Izzy picked herself up, he declared her the winner and allowed her one last belt at Jumbo. She smacked him about as hard as she could, scratching his cheek. Jumbo winced. He reached up and touched his bloodied face.
I laughed and knew he saw it but I didn’t care as I was looking forward to facing him. I got Jonathan next and took care of him after three hits. Megan was up against Annie and they tapped each other’s faces a few times before Troy told them to get real. Megan must’ve took it to heart because the next whack she gave Annie was enough for that girl. She started sobbing and said she didn’t want to play anymore.
It was the fourth round when things got really bad. Me and Troy were paired and neither one of us was inclined to back down. The first few blows were reasonable, maybe even cautious, but after the fourth shot, when Troy caught me hard over my left eye, I was done with holding back. I knocked him over on his side and thought that was it. But after ten seconds or so, he sat back up, kind of dazed but grinning. I steeled myself but the next lash hurt worse than the last. I stayed upright though and my next slap stunned him senseless. Even so, he got back up on his knees and as he prepared to hit me I realised I’d had enough. I shook my head slowly and held up a hand, hearing Jumbo laugh and call me pussy.
I rolled away, not caring. My head was reeling and it seemed like I was seeing more kids than were there. I was still half out of it when I felt someone grip my arm and a worried voice at my ear. Annie knelt beside me but I couldn’t make sense of her words. I heard a loud cry and then laughter and some kind of chanting. Annie squeezed my arm and told me to look.
I saw Megan, her face bleeding, stand up and slap Jumbo as hard as she could. He didn’t flinch. Instead, his mouth broke into that stupid smirk, and he gave my sister a fierce clout that knocked her out of the circle. I lunged for him, but missed. Troy grabbed me and said it was the game and we had to stick to the rules. “You’ll get your turn with Jumbo,” he said.
I pushed him away and crawled to Megan. Annie sat with her, holding her head. “Are you all right?”
Megan looked up at me, her teary eyes glazed. Maybe it was the drink as much as the blow but I knew that fucker had hurt her. Blood welled from the cut. I wiped it off. “I don’t like this game,” she whispered.
Troy called me. “You’re up next, Cai. If you don’t play, it’s a forfeit.”
“Fuck your forfeit, Troy.”
Jumbo leered at me. “I fucking knew it—he’s chicken.” He got up and jumped about, flapping his elbows like they were wings.
Troy ignored him. “Come on, it’s the game.”
I saw Izzy join Jumbo, dancing around and making clucking sounds. I hated her then, but when Jumbo got behind her and put his hands on her hips, I felt a bitter taste in my mouth. Izzy grinned at me and shook her ass, pushing it back against Jumbo. He stuck out his tongue and moved his hands up along her body towards her tits. Anger and resentment burned in me as I rose. “You think that’s funny?”
Troy said, “That’s right, Cai—why don’t you join them? You and Megan, huh? That can be your forfeit. A little dance, all of us together.”
For a moment I was torn. As I watched, Vic and Hector joined the other two and I felt a compulsion to join them. Then Megan’s voice pulled me back to myself. I turned to Troy. “Fuck you and your game.”
I helped Megan rise and told her we were going. Troy caught hold of my shirt. I warned him take his hand off me. He did but I saw he didn’t like it. “Jesus Cai,” he said. “We were just having a laugh.”
I shook my head and took my sister home.
*
Sleep didn’t come easy that night. I threw up before I went to bed, worried I’d wake my mother. If she found out we’d been drinking it would send her over the edge. I tossed and turned and couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. Everything seemed blurry and the weight of all that we’d done disturbed me. I felt disconnected from it all, like I wasn’t to blame for any of it. But it was my face and words that inhabited those visions and in them I caught a glimpse of exactly what my life amounted to: Megan and my mother. What else was there? Staying on to look after my sister till she could get away and make a life for herself? How long would that be? Eight or nine years and then what? Mam would still be here. Would I have the strength to walk out as Dada had done? Or had it really been the Tylwyth Teg I’d seen in my dreams?
I wanted another life, the one Troy and the others had. They had a freedom I’d never really known, opportunities I’d never seen. It wasn’t fair. I wanted it. I could stay in touch, go visit them the next holidays. I would ingratiate myself with his parents, and persuade them to take me in.
In the darkness, for a little while, it all seem
ed plausible. But towards dawn I began to see the flaws. You won’t leave Megan. She has nobody else. Mam cannot take care of her and she’s too young to fend for herself. The life Troy has is not your life. It is his, and Izzy’s and you don’t belong. You and Megan are just a game to him, a passing amusement. Izzy feels nothing for you. She is not yours and never will be. It’s just another stupid dream.
I don’t know what time I fell asleep or even if I really did. But I remember the resolve I felt, pure and strong, that I would never see Troy or the others again.
*
I left Izzy’s body in the river and waded across. On the far side the trail rose steeply and watery sunlight broke through the thinning mist. As the ground levelled out, I caught sight of peculiar figures loping through the trees. I tried to outrun them but they kept pace easily and when I stopped to catch my breath, their brooding presence weighed heavy on me. They came no closer, seeming content to wait, like they expected me to lead them to the one they wanted. “You can’t have her,” I whispered under my breath, not sure exactly who I was speaking to.
I set off again, running as hard as I could for four or five hundred yards until I heard voices up ahead. At first it seemed I was hearing the same voices I’d heard before, singing that same unknowable song. But as the seconds passed the sounds seemed to separate and become distinct. One of them, I realised, was Megan’s, and it was a voice tight with fear.
Around the next bend I found them in a thicket of ferns, just off the trail. Megan was on the ground, screaming as she struggled. Troy knelt at her head and had her arms pinned while Jumbo was crouched between her legs, tugging at her shorts. I slammed into him and as we fell he tried to grab hold of me. I scrabbled away and kicked him in the face. He swore but I was on my feet, looking for Troy.
He stood beyond Jumbo, lifting Megan on his shoulder. Seeing the fright in her eyes, I started toward them when Jumbo caught me in the gut, winding me. His arms slid round my chest and as he began to squeeze I threw my weight backwards and we went down. He got the worst of it as we hit the ground. I rolled away but he slammed a fist into my side and straddled me, lowering his snarling face right into mine. Without thinking I drove my forehead up against the bridge of his nose. Blood sprayed out and he fell off me, clutching his face. I stood and kicked him in the gut and the chest, dropped to my knees, picked up a stone and slammed it into his gob, smashing teeth and lips. He quivered and made gurgling sounds in his throat. He was done, I knew, but I wasn’t. I scrabbled about, found a larger rock and went back to him. He lay there, blood bubbling from his mouth. He looked up and if his eyes could’ve spoke they would’ve begged. Only I wasn’t listening. After I slammed the rock into his head there was no more talk from his mouth nor eyes.
I took off after Troy, calling Megan’s name. Once or twice I heard what I took for her voice, crying out, guiding me towards her. A soft light glowed through the trees and the air seemed thick like treacle. I sensed the others were there, following on. My heart felt fit to burst but I kept on and soon I heard the roar of water. I came out from the trees at the Upper Gushing Falls. Troy had Megan over one shoulder, wading through the water five or six yards from the crest. I ran into the river, feeling the current drag at me. I got a purchase with my feet and ploughed on after them.
Troy glanced back, his face distorted with fear and rage. He pulled out his penknife but couldn’t get it open with one hand. As he tried to pull the blade open with his teeth, Megan slid off his back. Troy stumbled. I told Megan to move towards me. Troy rose and as he did I clattered into him and the knife fell. He flicked a couple of punches at my face. My vision blurred but I held onto him and smacked the side of his head. I looked up and saw Megan struggling to stay upright in the centre of the river. The current was too strong. I staggered out into the deeper water, reached her and lifted her to my chest.
I heard Troy coming and moved across the river, making the far bank while he was still in the middle. A series of rough, natural steps descended to the plunge pool. I carried Megan down while the river crashed onto the rocks a few feet away. At the bottom we hurried along the edge of the pool and out into the shallow water at the far end. I looked upstream and saw Troy scrambling down the side of the fall. He stumbled at the bottom and fell on the slick rocks. A few seconds later he was up and moving awkwardly downstream. The water thundered down behind him and the look on his face made my blood run colder than it already was.
The river funnelled into a narrow flume and we picked our way along the dry, stony bed. Megan clung to me, hollow-eyed and silent. We climbed up the bank and a little further on, at a spot where the river merged with the Afon Pyrddin, I saw something caught on the rocks. I picked Megan up and buried her face in my chest. As I stumbled on past the confluence, I glanced back at the water swirling madly around Izzy’s broken body. I gripped Megan tighter and ran on.
*
I don’t know how long it took us to escape the wood or even where it was we came out. The rain had stopped and scraps of blue had broke through the clouds when the woman saw us and asked our names. She said we’d been missing two days and were all the talk. The police came and asked lots of questions that I answered the best I could. What I told them was mostly the truth, and the other stuff seemed to be what they wanted to hear. I don’t know how long it was before they took us home but when they did my mother cried and acted like she knew what being a mother really was. She took us home and said she loved the both of us and for that one night it felt like we were a real family.
They found Troy late in the night, wandering up around the Horseshoe Falls. He was gone in the head by then, they said, speaking in a strange tongue nobody understood. He had blood all over him, little of it his, some of it mine, no doubt. They found three bodies. Jumbo was where I’d left him, and Annie’s body was discovered in the tangled scrub a little way west of Sgwd yr Eira. She had been throttled, they said. Izzy was found caught up in the rocks a few hundred yards downstream from where I’d last seen her. I watched her parents on the TV, and the blank incomprehension I saw on their faces looked just like I felt.
Troy’s answers to the police questions didn’t satisfy them like mine had done. They searched the fairy wood for two weeks after but found no trace of Jonathan, Hector or Vic. I don’t know what became of those boys, whether they’re living or dead. I only know what Megan said, that the Tylwyth Teg had lured them off to a part of the wood no man had ever trod.
I don’t know about that. It seems fanciful, like most of her stories. She always had a knack for them. Another story was about what turns a boy into the kind of monster capable of killing his own friends. The ones who wrote that story said he should rot in jail or hang, which I guess made them as much monsters as he was. It turned out Troy wasn’t fit to stand trial which satisfied hardly anyone. It was all over the news for a month or so until some airplanes flew into two towers in America and that became the story that put this one to shame.
THE SPACEMAN
The world was not as big as it used to be. What made it smaller, he thought, was that there was so much more stuff in it now. There were all kinds of things that didn’t even exist when he was boy, smaller and faster machines and devices doing things that, until they were invented, he never knew needed to be done. Making stuff smaller and faster was what people called progress but he remembered a time when bigger was better, when to be confronted by something on a massive scale provoked a sense of jaw-dropping wonder. Back then, there was space enough for a rocket and the whole of the moon, even in his small corner of the world.
It was fifteen years since he, Jenna and Mouse had met Captain Paul and he’d been waiting ever since to see another spaceman. Sure, he’d seen a few on television, on the news, but it wasn’t the same as meeting one face to face, in your own back yard. He never told anyone about it except maybe once he mentioned it to a girl he wanted to go out with. He thought it would impress her. Not a bit of it. She thought it was all a big conspiracy. She knew a website whic
h proved how Nixon had NASA fake the whole thing to take people’s minds off Vietnam. It was all done in a Hollywood film studio with actors and fake sets. Nobody went to the moon, she insisted. You believe that, she said, and you might as well believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. She had a point, he figured. Those guys got squeezed out years ago, along with a whole lot of other stuff he used to believe in. But Freddie couldn’t help wondering sometimes, in this smaller, faster, better world of ours, what it was that replaced them? And thinking about where they might have gone, got him to wondering where Jenna and Mouse and Captain Paul were right now and to dream about being in that place. He just knew it had to be a whole lot bigger than here.
*
The spaceman came to Rhossili in the summer of 1994. Freddie almost didn’t get to meet him because he lied to his best friend about a girl. He was twelve years old and his mind had not yet adjusted to the growth spurt that had caught him napping over the winter. More recently, and more importantly, he’d started becoming intensely aware of girls in ways that made him awkward and stupid around them, even around Jenna. Though they had only known her a little over four months, Mouse said it was like they’d always known her, like she’d always been their friend. What Freddie didn’t have the heart to tell him was that he fancied Jenna and was hoping she felt the same about him.
Mouse was waiting for him one afternoon when he got home from school, a week or so before the summer break. He slid down from the garden wall as Freddie approached. “What’s happening, Mouse?” Freddie said, as his friend fell into step beside him.
Mouse was excited. “I’ve got something cool to tell you.” He always had cool or amazing things to tell—it came naturally to him, like his smallness or the quietness of his voice. That’s why people called him Mouse instead of Carwyn, which was his real name. Adults thought him shy, which he wasn’t particularly, while other kids thought him odd and secretive, both of which he was, and which made it difficult for him to make friends. He was smart though, and he knew all kinds of peculiar things that older kids didn’t know, and that made him a lot of fun to be with, certainly more fun than any other boys Freddie knew in the village. For a serial daydreamer, listening to one of Mouse’s stories or joining in some game he’d concocted, was like stepping into another world. “But we have to get Jenna,” he went on.
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