Captain Mack

by James Roy

  “I know you don’t need visitors, sir. But I had to ask you something.”

  Captain Mack said nothing. He just waited for Danny to go on.

  “I … I wanted to ask you about Tierney, sir.”

  Captain Mack frowned, put his finger to his lips and shushed. “Keep it down, lad. Tell me, how is the boy?”

  “I’ve had … trouble,” Danny said.

  Captain Mack looked alarmed. “What kind of trouble?”

  “I don’t know where to find him.”

  Captain Mack nodded seriously. “Keep looking, lad. Just keep looking. It’s all ye can do for now. He’s out there somewhere, trust me.”

  “I see,” Danny replied, despite not seeing at all. “OK, then I’ll keep looking.”

  “Good for ye. Is that all?” Captain Mack asked.

  “No, there was something else. I wanted to know, were you really in the army? Ellie didn’t know.”

  Captain Mack tried to straighten up. “Seventy-second Highlanders, my boy. Which regiment are ye in, then? Communications, I’d guess. They always send the wee’uns out to Communications in these parts. Part of the push, no doubt.”

  “No, I’m still at school,” Danny corrected him.

  “Not posted yet, then.” It wasn’t a question.

  Danny sat down cautiously on the edge of the faded old couch. “Um, no, not posted yet,” he agreed, deciding that it was probably easiest to agree with everything for now.

  “Do ye usually sit down before invited to do so?” snapped Captain Mack, and Danny hurriedly got back onto his feet. “Ye’ve got a lot of training to do yet, lad. What did ye say ye name was, then?”

  “Snell, sir.”

  “Right, I recall. Private Snell, Communications. I’ll remember that. Well, it doesn’t look like ye’re planning to leave, so can I offer ye some tea, Snell? They let us keep a couple of these civilised habits here.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Danny replied. “If that’s OK,” he added.

  Captain Mack pointed at the faded and stained couch. “Park your behind, Private. I’ll not be long in the mess.”

  “What mess?”

  He rolled his eye and pointed into the tiny kitchen. “Where ye make the grub, of course. What are ye, Private — daft?”

  “Must be, sir,” Danny replied meekly.

  “Right,” grunted Captain Mack, making his way into the kitchen. “Daft wee-uns. It’s not their fault. Send them out practically babies,” Danny heard him mutter.

  There wasn’t really much to see in Captain Mack’s front room ’just the old worn furniture, a TV, and a bookshelf with a few books and a couple of photos on it. The faded curtains were drawn, keeping the room depressingly dark.

  After a lot of jingling and clanging about in the kitchen, Captain Mack reappeared. He was concentrating on carrying two cups of black tea. “I’d give ye crackers, but Cook says we’re still rationing,” he explained as he set the cups down on the coffee table. Then he slowly lowered himself into one of the armchairs. “Well, drink up, Private — ye ’ll be needing ye strength.”

  “What for?” Danny asked anxiously.

  “What for?” repeated Captain Mack, almost laughing. “Ye are daft, aren’t ye? Survival, laddie. Survival and maybe even conflict, that’s what for. Oh, don’t look so concerned, Private. Burma’s not so bad, once ye get used to the wee parasites.” He raised his cup. “After all, they let us have tea.”

  They drank their tea in silence. When Danny had nearly finished — which took him a while, since he wasn’t used to drinking tea, especially without milk or sugar — Captain Mack pushed himself slowly up onto his feet.

  “I think we’ve done enough for now, Private. If ye stay too much longer there’ll be suspicions aroused. Can’t have that, so I think ye’d best be on yer way.”

  “Oh,” said Danny, standing uncertainly and handing over his cup. “Um … okay then. I guess I’ll go.”

  “I think so, Private. Best if we tread carefully. It’s just as the old saying goes.”

  “Which old saying?”

  Captain Mack spoke in a quiet voice, almost a whisper. “The jungle has eyes,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “Aye. They watch everything, ye know.”

  “Do they?”

  “Aye, for certain. But stay in touch. We’ll talk again, the two of us.”

  “When?”

  “Best we don’t say. Not out loud. Ears …” The old man leaned close and narrowed his good eye. “They’re everywhere.”

  “Okay. I’ll remember that. Bye then, sir.” Danny went to the door and opened it.

  “Very good, Snell. Oh, and Snell.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Forgetting something, are ye?”

  “Oh, yes. Sorry, sir.” Danny turned, snapped to attention and gave the smartest salute he could manage.

  “Don’t be seen,” warned Captain Mack, and the door closed behind Danny with a tight click.

  “How was he?” Ellie asked as she and Danny walked to her car.

  “Nutty,” Danny replied. “Sorry, but he was,” he added when he saw her eyebrows start to bunch into a frown.

  “Any news on Tierney?”

  He shook his head. “And I still don’t know who he is.”

  Ellie laughed. “So, are you coming to see him again?”

  “Yep, with biscuits.”

  SEVEN

  First period next day was History. Danny always enjoyed History, mainly because of Mr Cullen. Unlike some of the teachers at St Lawrence’s, he was actually excited by his subject. Often he’d get so involved in the point he was making that fifteen minutes later he’d be talking about something completely different. Once he went from the search for the Inland Sea to the diet of certain sea-birds in no time flat, and afterwards couldn’t remember how he’d done it. He’d never apologise, though. He’d just smile and say, “Anyway, where were we before I got all carried away?”

  After class Danny went up to speak with his teacher. Mr Cullen was humming quietly as he wiped the board clean.

  “Hi there, Daniel,” he said as he put the duster down. “How’s the ear?”

  Danny held it between finger and thumb and gave it a firm wiggle. “Fine now, thanks. Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course. Ask away.”

  “Was there a Seventy-second Highland Regiment?”

  “With a name like that it would have to be Scottish, wouldn’t it?”

  “I think so.”

  Mr Cullen sat on the edge of his desk and thought. “Look, to be perfectly honest, I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

  “I met this guy — an old guy. He lives in a nursing home.”

  “No better place to find an old man should you need one,” Mr Cullen joked. “And this man was in the Seventy-second, was he?”

  “That’s what he told me. I think he said something about Burma. Thing is, he’s a bit …” Danny tried hard to think of a nice way to say what he was thinking.

  “A bit vague?”

  “Yeah, vague. So I just wanted to know, I guess.”

  Mr Cullen looked at his watch. “He’s probably telling you the truth, but I wouldn’t know for sure. But we’ll have to discuss this further another time, Daniel, since your bell’s about to go.”

  “Oh, right. Well, thanks anyway, Mr Cullen.”

  That afternoon Danny visited Captain Mack again. He found him walking in the garden.

  “Afternoon, sir,” Danny said.

  Captain Mack turned slowly to look at him. “What’s that ye said?”

  “I said ‘Good afternoon, sir’.” Danny glanced around to make sure that no one was watching and then gave a quick salute.

  “Right. Good afternoon to ye too, lad.”

  Danny stood straight and still, waiting.

  “Well? What is it ye want, lad?” Captain Mack asked.

  “It’s me, sir. Remember? Snell — Private Snell.”

  “Or, right ye are. Sorry, lad, I quite forgot m
yself.” Then it was Captain Mack’s turn to glance about. He lowered his voice. “We can’t talk here, Snell — whatever were ye thinking? They’re reasonable people, but it’s still very risky. Meet me back at the mess hut in five minutes. We can talk safely there.” Then he turned and walked in the direction of his unit, casting furtive glances as he went. Danny waited for a short time before following.

  He knocked on the door. It creaked and opened a crack. “Right, in ye come then,” the old man said, stepping back.

  When Danny was safely inside, Captain Mack closed the door and turned to face him. “So, what is it ye want this time?” he asked again.

  “I just came to visit you, that’s all,” Danny replied. “Sir,” he added quickly, remembering.

  “Tell me, did ye manage to contact Tierney, lad?”

  “I’m afraid not, sir.”

  “Well, ye needn’t worry about him for the moment,” Captain Mack said. “Word is that he’s been heard from, and he’s holding his own for now.”

  “That’s good,” Danny replied.

  “Thought ye’d be pleased. He’s a brave lad. Tough, too. If they bring him down they might as well send everyone home, because it’ll be over for sure.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sure ye do. Now, I suppose ye want to drink my tea too, eh?”

  “No. I mean, yes, if you like, sir.”

  “Very well then. I’ll just get Cook sorted, shall I?”

  Danny reached into his school bag. “I brought biscuits,” he said, holding out the gingernuts he’d bought at the station.

  Captain Mack took the packet carefully, turning it over and inspecting it closely with his left eye. Then he looked up at Danny. “How’d ye get these?” he asked, sounding amazed.

  “I bought them.”

  “Off one of the guards?”

  “Um —”

  “Be careful dealing with the guards, lad. They’re a savage and disloyal bunch.”

  “I was very careful, sir,” Danny said.

  “I’ll get us some tea right off,” said Captain Mack, and he disappeared into the kitchen.

  Danny went over to the bookcase and looked closely at the photos lined up along the top. One was of two small children, another was of a young couple standing in front of a small white house. There was also a yellowing photo of a much younger Captain Mack. He was wearing a suit and a bow tie, and was standing beside a pretty young woman in a wedding dress. There was no eye patch. And on the wall hung a picture of the same woman, only this time quite a bit older. There was nothing in the room to suggest that Captain Mack had ever been in the army, although Danny wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find. A gun, maybe, or a case of medals. A hat or a sword, perhaps.

  Captain Mack startled him as he came in from the kitchen with two cups of tea, one gingernut resting on each of the saucers.

  “One biscuit each,” he said, as he rested the cups on the coffee table. “True to form, Cook’s rationing the rest.”

  “How was our friend today?” asked Ellie as she pulled on her jacket and picked up her bag.

  “He was rationing the biscuits I bought,” Danny answered.

  Ellie just threw her head back and laughed.

  “When can I come and meet this guy?” Caleb asked as they approached the school gates.

  “What for?”

  Caleb chuckled. “Because he sounds funny.”

  “I’m not visiting him because he’s funny.”

  “Why, then?” Caleb asked, the amusement dissolving from his voice.

  “I don’t know, really. It started off with Tierney, I guess, but now I just go along because I like it. And he likes it as well, I think.”

  “Well, tell him that as soon as I’m not grounded any more, I’ll be along to visit too. I might dress up as this Tierney bloke, just to see his face.”

  “Don’t make fun.”

  “You’re right — bad joke.”

  Danny walked into Mr Cullen’s history class and sat in his usual spot. Mr Cullen walked over as the last of the other boys were coming in and placed a folded scrap of paper on Danny’s desk. Then he winked and smiled.

  Danny opened the note. It said: 72nd Regiment — Seaforth Highlanders (Duke of Albany’s). Burma, 1942-44. He tried to catch Mr Cullen’s eye, but he already had his back turned and was writing on the board.

  It was then that Danny sensed someone watching him. He looked to his right. Shaun had a half smile on his face. He didn’t even try to pretend he hadn’t been attempting to read the note from across the gap between the desks. Danny immediately refolded the paper and tucked it safely into his shirt pocket.

  EIGHT

  Dad tossed the tea-towel onto the kitchen bench and sat down at the table. He smiled across at Danny. “This is nice, huh? Haven’t seen much of you this week.”

  Danny picked up his knife and fork. “Looks good,” he said. Dad had done chops for dinner, and he always cooked them perfectly.

  “So what’s been going on? Haven’t been on detention again?”

  Danny shook his head. “So far so good.”

  “Anything else?” Dad asked, pouring gravy over his chops.

  “I went to see where Ellie works the other day.”

  Dad nodded. “Right. How was that?”

  “Good. I met this old man. I think he used to be in the army.”

  “Really? Where.”

  “Burma, I think. I’m not sure, really.”

  “Prisoner-of-war?”

  Danny nodded as he chewed his lamb.

  Dad laid his knife and fork on his plate and folded his hands under his chin. “Does he talk much about it?”

  Danny shrugged and sipped his drink. “No, not really. He’s a bit funny sometimes, like he thinks he’s still there.”

  Dad picked up his fork again and stabbed at his peas. “I know I probably don’t need to remind you of this, Dan, but I hope you’re giving this man the respect he deserves.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good lad,” Dad said. “Son, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “About what?”

  “I know how desperate you are to get this final operation done.”

  Danny watched him, waiting.

  “So I got an appointment with Dr Granville for next month. Hopefully he’ll say that your eye is ready.”

  “Do you think? I thought it was going to be a few more months at least.”

  “Look, I don’t know, mate. But I see how miserable it makes you, and I want to get this problem dealt with just as much as you do. I don’t like seeing my son come home from school upset because some little horror has been making fun of something he can do nothing about. So let’s find out if we’re ready.”

  “OK, let’s,” Danny replied. “I guess he can only say no, huh?”

  “Correct. No promises, all right? Like you say, this is earlier than the original appointment, so it may be too soon.”

  “Yeah, OK.”

  Dad reached across the table and squeezed Danny’s hand. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed, then.”

  At Captain Mack’s, Danny was always served black tea, and was never offered more than one biscuit. The curtains were always drawn, and often, when Danny spoke too loudly, Captain Mack would shush him before going to the window to peek out. Tierney was still bravely holding his own, and apparently did not require help of any kind at present. And every time he went, Danny greeted Captain Mack with a snappy salute, which was always returned.

  But one day Danny knocked on the door of the unit and found Captain Mack behaving differently.

  “Hello, lad,” he said. “Snell, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right, sir,” said Danny, saluting.

  The gesture was received with a slightly raised eyebrow from Captain Mack, who did not salute in reply. “Right. Come in. Tea, then?”

  “Yes please, sir.”

  “Take a seat and I’ll be right with ye,
” Captain Mack said, and he left Danny to go into the kitchen.

  When he returned, Danny asked him how Tierney was doing.

  Captain Mack frowned. “What would possess ye to ask a question like that?” he asked, sinking into his chair.

  “I’m interested, that’s all. Have you heard from him lately?”

  Captain Mack looked rather unimpressed. “Ye’re toying with me, aren’t ye, lad? Making fun —”

  “No —”

  “Well, it’s not funny, ye realise. I do hope ye realise that.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Danny apologised.

  The old man’s face looked sad and stem. “Tiemey was brave, Snell — braver than ye or I will ever be — so there’s no call to be talking about him like he’s still with us.”

  Danny was finding this hard to understand. “Has … has Tiemey died, sir?” he asked.

  “What do ye think?” Captain Mack’s voice suddenly had a hard and frightening edge to it. His tone was like nothing Danny had heard from him before, not even the day they’d first met in the garden.

  “When did he die?” Danny asked cautiously.

  “It was a lot of years ago, Snell. Too many. He’d be almost eighty now, ye know. But then …” He took a deep breath. “But then, what can ye do?”

  It was the first time Danny had heard Captain Mack talk about the war like it was all over, and this sudden clarity was confusing. “So did Tiemey die in Burma, sir?” he asked quietly, almost fearfully.

  Captain Mack looked directly at Danny. His face was now less stern than sad, and his voice was low as he spoke slowly. “If it’s all the same to ye, young Snell, could we talk about something more cheery — like the weather, for instance?”

  “Sure. Sorry,” Danny mumbled, looking past the wide-open curtains to the sunny garden. He sipped his tea.

  But it wasn’t tea at all. It was just hot water.

  As usual, Ellie asked Danny about his visit.

  He shrugged and said nothing.

  “Well? How was it?”

  “I don’t know anymore,” he said. “He didn’t salute, he knew the war was over, and he didn’t want to talk about any of it. I think that this time he actually knew where he was. Could that happen?”