by Phil Earle
He told himself to think or do something else. There had to be another way of occupying his brain, he was in a zoo, for crying out loud. But then again he thought, when the prize assets are two wolves howling for dentures, or an ape in need of a straitjacket, well, it hardly screamed ‘funfair’.
Instead, he gave himself a shortlist in an attempt to force the issue.
Find Mrs F – hardly tempting.
Go back to her house on his own and catch up on the sleep he’d missed – tempting, but without Tweedy to lead him, he’d probably not find his way.
Pull on his crusty overalls and find more dung to clear. Or try and find something to feed to the animals.
But as that final thought entered his head, he shook it out angrily. Why the hell would he do that? What possible reason did he have for bending his back to help someone who clearly didn’t want him around?
In his mind, she was no different to the others who were meant to have cared for him. In fact, he thought, scrub that, she was worse. At least when his dad was called up, his gran made noises about wanting him, even if that’s all they were. It hadn’t taken long for her to change her mind.
But this woman? If she hadn’t insisted on him washing his clothes then he wouldn’t have bothered unpacking his case. Wait till she saw in him the things his mum and gran had. She’d give him a piggyback to the station, just to be rid. Maybe then everyone would leave him be. Maybe then they’d recognise what he already knew, that he was best on his own.
So he dug his heels in, or on this occasion, his backside, and remained sitting on the bench that faced Adonis’s lair.
Right on cue the ape chose to lope out of the shadows, stalking on all fours, each step slow and loose, back flat enough to serve a pot of tea from.
‘What do you want?’ Joseph said. The last thing he wanted was to see its face. He wasn’t going to move, though. That would feel like defeat, like the gorilla had won on the basis of their first encounter, and Joseph wouldn’t have that.
As much as he wanted to look away, he couldn’t, for there was something majestic about the way the gorilla covered the ground. Each placement of his fists seemed planned, navigated, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling as they took the weight of the rest of him. As he strode, his head moved slowly from side to side, eyes piercing, seeking any danger that dared invade his eyeline. He looked in complete control of his surroundings, and the boy envied him for it.
It looked to Joseph as though Adonis’s kingdom didn’t even end at the bars: they were a mere inconvenience, one that he could overcome whenever he saw fit.
Joseph sat and watched, lips pulled in a snarl. If Mrs F wasn’t here to aim his anger at, then he would be more than happy to point it at the animal, and with good reason, he thought. It had scared him witless, for starters, but more than that, like everyone in his life it seemed Adonis had chosen to reject him. Instantly, in this case. And when that happened, the boy had learned to return fire. He could match every bit of anger thrown his way.
Adonis paced the width of his enclosure, left to right and back again, ploughing the same path around six feet from the bars. The grass there had long been trampled, replaced by a parched, cracked earth that trembled regardless of how slowly the ape placed his feet.
It wasn’t until he’d covered the entire space half a dozen times that he finally came to a halt, sitting with his weight resting upon his gigantic fists.
Adonis’s gaze landed on Joseph. The boy’s pulse quickened. He hadn’t taken his attention from the ape, not once, in the hope that eventually their eyes would lock, but when they did, it was not what he expected.
The ape didn’t blink when he looked at him and his pupils blazed with an orange fury. It was pure animal, primal, the boy thought, without realising that his own eyes flared with the same intensity.
Joseph looked hard at the scars dotted on the animal’s face. They were old, some half-hidden by hair that had long grown back, but they were worn like trophies, as a warning to anyone who dared get too close.
The boy would not back down or look away, though, and it was Adonis who tired of the stand-off first – a loud, unexpected bark surprising Joseph, knocking him off balance. After a second, quieter noise, Adonis pushed his fists into the ground, and started his languid movements again. In seconds, Joseph was left to look only at his rear.
What had he done this time to deserve that?
It brought something up in Joseph. Too many times he’d been judged too quickly, and he was damned if it was going to happen now with a dirty, stinking ape.
He jumped from his perch and stooped for the nearest piece of rubble. Pulling himself into a side-on position, he trained his arm on Adonis, who had sat once more.
Here it came. His own revenge. A feeling he loved and was well-versed in.
His shoulder tensed, eyes narrowed, as his arm pulled back.
This was it. He would not miss.
11
‘I wouldn’t rush if I were you,’ said a voice behind him. ‘He probably won’t move now for the rest of the day.’ It distracted him: the rubble fell pathetically short of its target.
Joseph turned, ready to fire in that direction too, and there, leaning on a wall, wearing a pair of much cleaner overalls, was a girl. His age or similar, hair not much longer than his own.
Embarrassed by his excuse for a throw, and angered by the interruption, he bent for another rock.
‘He won’t budge, no matter what you throw at him. Believe me.’
Joseph winced in irritation. Who was she? More importantly, why did she think he wanted her advice? He let fly: the rubble scything from his arm and troubling the bars this time, but not Adonis, who didn’t flinch. He simply stared off into the distance.
‘You’re Joseph. Syd.’ It wasn’t an introduction. More a statement of facts, delivered in a voice that was clipped and posh, like you heard on the wireless.
At the sound of her name, though, Joseph gave her a second glance, wondering if she were actually a boy after all.
‘It’s Syd with a Y,’ she said, filling in the blanks, but Joseph didn’t acknowledge her, hoping she’d take the hint and push off.
But that, it seemed, wasn’t Syd’s way. ‘Seems your tongue didn’t make it onto the train with you, did it? Or maybe you’ve nothing worth saying.’
Now that did test Joseph. He had plenty to say, just not to her. And what was it with the people down here? First Mrs F, then the idiot Twyfords in the bunker and now this one – did people in the south have their kindness dug out of them with a spoon?
‘What do you want?’ he barked. It was a mistake, of course, and he realised this as soon as it came out.
‘It speaks!’ she mocked, taking his words as an excuse to march beside him. ‘I was beginning to think you were mute, but it turns out you’re just rude. Still, at least I know now. And I don’t want anything by the way, though thanks for the offer.’
Joseph did all he could to keep his mouth closed, but it mattered little. There was no chance of prising even the shortest of words in.
‘What I wanted to do, before you interrupted me with your attempts at conversation, is tell you why Adonis is sitting there like that. I mean, it’s clear you don’t like him; it’s plastered all over your face. But to be honest, I don’t think that will bother him too much, because what you will learn very quickly is that Adonis is rather selective about who he pays attention to these days.’
‘These days?’
‘He was never a great chatterer, to be honest, and he was never a performer either, not like the penguins. Most you ever got was that he’d come out of his hut and walk around for a bit till he got bored. But now? Well, he’s a quiet, withdrawn old man.’
‘Withdrawn?’ Joseph snorted with derision. ‘He nearly throttled me the other day.’
‘Did he? How odd. You must’ve re
ally provoked him. He’s been very quiet since they took the others away.’
He had to ask. ‘Others?’
She plumped herself up, knowing she had his interest. ‘That’s right. Adonis had a mate. And a son. Terrible business.’ She paused, her voice catching in her throat, leading to a rare pause, before, ‘I hate this war. All of it. All it does is take.’
Joseph frowned. ‘So where are they now? His family?’
‘Gone. His mate was rehoused in a zoo out of the city after his son Malachi died. Mrs F reckoned Aphrodite would die too if she stayed here. Thought the grief would kill her.’
Aphrodite? he thought. What kind of name was that for a monkey? He didn’t say it though, opting instead for, ‘Living with Adonis can’t have helped. Irritable beggar.’
‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong,’ Syd replied. ‘Inseparable, they were, the three of them. Rarely seen without standing in each other’s shadows. That’s why the public loved them. That’s why it changed them both so much when Malachi died.’
Joseph listened, but doubted most of it. It was a lot easier to just hate the beast. ‘So you’re telling me, that that thing in there is grieving?’
‘You don’t have to be sat crying to be grieving, you know,’ she said. ‘You don’t know him like we do or saw what we did. When the baby got sick, Mrs F tried to tend to him, but it wasn’t easy. She couldn’t get close; Adonis saw to that. Even if Mrs F could’ve got near him, there wasn’t much she could do. Vets are hard to come by, and even if they weren’t, they’re not allowed to “waste” medicine on animals.’
‘So he wouldn’t even let his own son get treated.’
‘What? He’s an ape, you fool! He couldn’t tell us how he was feeling. He was just trying to protect his son. Like any parent would. From the second Malachi got sick, Adonis didn’t leave his side. Not for a second. The only way Mrs F could even retrieve the body after he died was to sedate Adonis.’
‘So what actually happened to his missus?’
‘Same thing that happened to a lot of the other animals here. Shipped out once it became clear the war wasn’t passing quickly. A zoo in the countryside had space for her. Bigger enclosure, more food, less chance of having a bomb dropped on her.’
‘But they didn’t want Adonis? Not that I’d blame ’em.’
Syd’s face looked pained. ‘No they didn’t, but not for the reasons you think. It was because no one has enough money, have they? Or food. Plus Adonis wasn’t like Aphrodite. He’s older. It was a surprise when he fathered Malachi, but she was still young. The new zoo wanted to pair her with a male already there. There was no pointin taking Adonis too.’
Joseph shrugged. All this talk of mothers leaving was too close to the bone, so he kept his focus on the ape in the cage. ‘So basically, he’s sulking. That’s what you’re telling me?’
‘I’d like to see how you’d feel if that happened to you,’ Syd barked back, ‘because I can tell you now, losing people is the worst thing imaginable.’
‘No, I’ll tell you what the worst thing is – it’s being told what to do or how to feel by a stuck-up kid! I mean, what did you even come over for?’
Syd gathered herself before carrying on, as calmly as she could. ‘I came over because we’re going to be working together. Because like yours, my life hasn’t been exactly simple lately, but thanks to Mrs F, I’ve got something to keep my mind off it. I came over here to say hello, because to be honest, you looked sad. And I thought, stupidly, that I might be able to help. But you were too busy throwing stones at Adonis.’
He wanted to tell her to sling her hook, that she knew nothing about him and if he had his way she never would. But for once, he kept control. He realised she might actually be of some use to him. ‘Well, if you want to be a friend, you can start by telling me about that rifle Mrs F keeps in the office. And why, when I arrived last night in the middle of the raid, she was pointing it straight at Adonis.’
But it seemed Syd had run out of charity. ‘Tell you what, friend, why don’t you ask her yourself?’
And she moved on without looking back, leaving Joseph both on his own, and in the dark.
12
‘Joseph Palmer?’ came the yell the following morning. ‘Get your backside down here, or my hand’ll be itching.’
He did not answer. He was perched, fully dressed, on the end of his bed and wanted to spend as little time with the woman as possible. He gave it another ninety seconds: long enough to not seem like he was doing as he was told, but not too long to have to endure another telling off.
There was little to look forward to. Another freezing day at the zoo: humping waste about, sorting rotten food from the edible, and, of course, the prospect of more anger from Adonis, sat on his throne. Plus now there was Syd to factor in. Little Miss Know-it-all.
No wonder he descended the stairs slowly.
‘About time,’ Mrs F said, when he finally appeared. ‘I’ve more to do than summon you repeatedly from your pit, so remember this, please. Breakfast is six forty-five. Not six fifty-five or six fifty. And I’ll not be serving you either, so you’ll do well to remember that. If you want to eat, then you’ll be down here, prompt. You hear?’
He gave the shallowest of nods.
‘Right, well. It’s Monday. So you know what that means.’
‘The zoo again?’ he huffed.
‘Not till this afternoon. You’ve got school first.’
‘School?’
‘That’s the one. You might have heard of it, though from what your gran told me, you haven’t stepped inside one for a while.’
‘Yeah, well, I wouldn’t believe everything she tells you. Anyway, I didn’t think school would be open. All them kids at the station were off to the countryside.’
‘Most of them. But evacuation’s not compulsory.’
‘Still, no point me going to school.’ He felt his heart race anxiously at the prospect of lessons.
But Mrs F was having none of it. ‘There’s every point, my lad. Now, you’ll need your gas mask box, and I’ve cobbled you something resembling a uniform. Some old stuff from one of the neighbours. There’s an apple, some bread and a bit of cheese on top of your mask in the hall. And from tomorrow, I’ll expect you to get it all sorted yourself.’
She let the last of her words fall away, as if embarrassed that she’d done this much already, and wiped her hands rigorously down the front of her dress.
‘I’d rather not go, though,’ he said, not wanting to make it sound as big a deal as it actually was. ‘I’d be more use at the zoo with you.’
He felt her quizzical gaze upon him, knew it was suspicious, the notion of him wanting to spend more time in her company.
‘And you will be. After lessons.’
‘Gran wasn’t bothered about me going in the end.’
‘Well I’m not your gran, and I don’t believe that’s true anyway. So get yourself sorted and wait by the gate. Someone’s going to walk you there. I’ve to be at work.’
This was his moment. His big one. Too often already, the woman had had her way. So he couldn’t let her win on this, surely. His mind raced to the last time he’d been at school. The laughter, the pointing fingers and humiliation. He couldn’t do it. Not again. So he sat on the kitchen chair, wrestled a hunk of stale bread from the loaf, and shoved it all into his mouth until his cheeks bulged. He knew this would rile her. Bread, stale or otherwise, was scarce. This way, he didn’t have to explain why he wouldn’t go.
But Mrs F was onto him. ‘Don’t you worry, my lad. You don’t need to speak. You just need to listen. You ARE going to school. You ARE going to listen. And you ARE going to learn. And you can start with learning how to tie your shoelaces. You’ve got ten minutes.’
Ten minutes later, he was standing at the gate, box dangling from his neck, shorts and shirt fitting him so badly it looked lik
e he’d shrunk in the wash. He did not like it. It made him appear weak and puny: a target.
He turned the waistband of the shorts over several times, so they finished above the knees instead of below them. But as he did so, the material at the bottom flared outwards, so when he stood with his legs together it gave the impression that he was wearing a skirt, his scrawny legs apologising all the way to his feet, hiding inside a huge pair of strangers’ shoes.
‘You can do this,’ he whispered to himself, more in hope than belief, but when his school escort arrived, he revised this thought dramatically.
‘Well, don’t you look quite the picture,’ said Syd, sporting a smile that said something else entirely.
YouARE joking me, he winced to himself, though he didn’t say it. He was practising his gruff exterior, ready for the rest of the day. ‘Isn’t it time you were evacuated?’ he asked, brain half wondering why this hadn’t already happened.
‘It may well happen yet. But till then, lucky me gets to be your babysitter.’
‘Bring him to the zoo straight from school, Syd, won’t you?’ said Mrs F, marching through the front door and gate without pausing, leaving the two of them on their own.
‘Why you?’ he said, sullenly.
‘Because Mrs F asked me.’
‘She asks me to do loads of things. Doesn’t mean I do any of them.’
‘Maybe you should try.’
Joseph didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Why do you even like her?’
‘Because she gave me a job. And support. And help. You know, for someone who acts like they don’t want me around, you don’t half ask a lot of questions.’
‘Doesn’t mean I like you,’ Joseph said. ‘And call what you’ve got “a job”? Scraping up dung eight hours a day?’
‘There are worse things out there, and besides, sometimes the rubbish jobs are the best. They stop you thinking.’