by James Roy
“Sure, sometimes it’s like that with old people,” Ellie explained. “They’re with you one day, somewhere else the next. You come to expect it. Don’t let it get you down.”
“I’m not. I’m just confused.” He didn’t even bother to tell her about the tea.
“I wonder if ye’d do me a favour, lad,” Captain Mack asked quietly, suspiciously casting his eye about the garden.
“What’s that, sir?”
“I know it’s a strange request, but I’m running short on hair cream. It’s a little hard to come by around here, as I’m sure ye know.”
“Hair cream?” Danny asked, eyeing Captain Mack’s thinning hair. “Where do I get that?”
Captain Mack sounded impatient. “Well, I don’t know, lad — ye’re the one with the outside contacts.”
“Oh, right. Well, I’ll see what I can do.”
“And razors. I need razors, if ye can get hold of them.”
“Sure, I can find those OK”
Captain Mack nodded and started to turn away. “Well, do what ye can, lad. I’d best be off before we raise suspicion. Ye know — eyes and ears …”
“Yes, sir,” Danny said, saluting crisply. “Eyes and ears.”
The following Monday Danny met Caleb at their usual spot, beside the newspaper stand. “Come on, let’s go,” he said.
“What’s the hurry?” Caleb asked, stuffing his walkman into his bag.
“I’ve got to get some supplies.”
“Supplies? What kind of supplies?”
“Hair cream and razors.”
Caleb grinned and reached out to stroke Danny’s face. “Didn’t know you’d started shaving,” he teased. “It’s very smooth.”
“Cut it out! They’re for Captain Mack.”
“Where are you going to get them?”
Danny pointed across the street. “Safeway.”
Small groups of boys from St Lawrence’s were heading from the station towards the school, and Caleb eyed them with a concerned look. “Can’t it wait till after school?”
“No, I might forget. It’ll only take a minute.”
“We’re going to be late. We’ve got the Fat Controller first up.”
“Come on,” Danny said. “It’ll take longer if we stand here arguing.”
The supermarket was almost empty, except for a man stacking shelves, the woman at the checkout, and a couple of older boys buying chewy.
“Over here,” Danny said, seeing the toiletries section to one side. He paused in front of the razors as he studied the selection.
“Come on,” Caleb said, glancing over his shoulder at a group of boys crossing the street from the station. “Hurry up, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, hang on,” Danny said, picking up a twelve-pack of double blade razors with a lubricating strip. “What do you reckon about these ones?”
“Sure, whatever,” Caleb said. “Let’s just go.”
“Oh, wait, maybe these ones are better — they’re for sensitive skin.”
Caleb looked at his watch and shook his head. “Mate, I’m going — I can’t afford to be late for Whaley’s class.”
Danny ignored him. “Yeah, these are better,” he said.
“Good, I’m glad,” Caleb said as he walked away. “See you soon.”
“You right there, son?” the checkout lady called out.
“I’m looking for hair cream,” Danny answered. “Hair cream?”
“Yeah, for … for my grand-dad.”
“Just to your left, love.”
Danny looked over what was there — gels, sprays, shampoos and conditioners, but no hair cream.
“Are you sure you’ve got it?” he asked.
The woman came over. “I thought we did,” she said. She muttered to herself as she scanned her eyes along the shelf. “Will this do?” she asked at last, picking up a tube of super-hold gel.
Danny took it and read the label carefully. “I guess so,” he said.
As he got to the checkout he looked across the road to the station overpass. Normally there’d have been a couple of St Lawrence’s boys straggling, heading reluctantly towards the school. It alarmed him to see that this time there were none at all. The overpass was empty.
Danny arrived for Science almost ten minutes late, and was heading quietly for a spare seat near the side when Mr Whaley stopped his droning.
“Good morning, Mr Snell,” he said in a terse voice. “Decided to join us after all?”
His brain stuck firmly in automatic, Danny spun around, snapped to attention and saluted as smartly as he could. “Yes, sir!” he replied loudly.
The entire class burst out laughing. Mr Whaley’s eyes looked like they might explode right out of their sockets. “Excuse me?” he said, his voice disturbingly controlled and menacing. “Did you really just salute me?”
Danny felt his skin go hot and cold and the blood drain from his face as he realised what he’d done. “I’m … I’m sorry, Mr Whaley,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Disrespect such as that is intolerable, Mr Snell. And I’m afraid it’s far too late for apologies.” Mr Whaley pointed to the doorway. “You can wait outside Dr Partridge’s office until I’ve finished this class, since I don’t have the time to brief him right now.
“But —”
“Go!”
As Danny turned to leave he noticed three faces in particular. Shaun and Grant were staring straight at him and grinning widely, while Caleb was biting his lip and staring hard at the top of his desk.
Dr Partridge peered over the top of his glasses. “This kind of behaviour surprises me coming from you, Daniel. There are boys of whom I’d expect it, but you’re not one of them. Would you like to explain?”
Danny attempted to speak, but no voice came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I … I didn’t mean to salute, sir. It was an accident.”
“It’s a peculiar kind of accident though, isn’t it — saluting someone by mistake?”
“Not really, sir.”
Dr Partridge raised just one eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Um … It’s going to sound stupid, sir.”
Dr Partridge said nothing, waiting for Danny to continue what was sounding more and more like a very elaborate lie. A very elaborate and clearly ridiculous lie.
Danny took a deep breath and plunged in. “You see, sir, I have this friend who makes me salute whenever I see him. I guess … I guess it’s just become a habit.”
Dr Partridge smiled with his mouth but his eyes remained deadly serious. “You’ll need to do a bit better than that, Daniel.”
“It’s true though, sir. He used to be in the army, and he’s a bit —”
“Slow down, son.”
Danny took another deep breath “He’s a bit old, sir, and he likes me to salute. And I guess I just got mixed up. That’s all.”
“That’s all?”
“You see, I’d stopped at the supermarket on the way to school to buy him razors and … and some stuff for his hair, and that’s why I was late. I didn’t mean to be late, but I guess I was thinking about him when Mr Whaley …” He hesitated.
“Mr Whaley what?” Dr Partridge prompted.
“Well, the way he spoke reminded me of the way Captain Mack talks — you know, kind of cranky, I guess — and I automatically saluted him. You know, without thinking.”
Dr Partridge pushed his chair back and stood up. “Captain who, did you say?”
“Captain Mack. That’s what they call him. I’ve forgotten his real name. McSomething. He was in Burma during the war. It’s true, sir — ask Mr Cullen if you don’t believe me.”
Dr Partridge put up his hand. “No, I believe you, Daniel. I expect Mr Whaley will understand when I talk to him about this. What he does about the lateness to class is up to him, but I think we can probably overlook this saluting business.”
“Oh, thanks,” Danny said, feeling his shoulders relax a little.
Dr Partridge smiled, using
his eyes as well this time. “But I think that maybe you should be a little more careful about who you salute in the future, hmm?”
“Yes, sir,” Danny answered. He didn’t even come close to saluting Dr Partridge.
“That was close.” It was obvious that Caleb was trying hard not to laugh.
“It’s not funny,” Danny said, biting into his apple.
“Well, I think it’s hilarious. You should have seen the Fat Controller’s face.”
“I did,” Danny replied. “I thought he was going to pop. Anyway, I still got a detention for being late.”
“When is it?”
“In about five minutes.”
“I bet Whaley’s poopy that you didn’t get at least a couple of weeks for saluting him.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait to hear what Dad’s going to say.”
“Another detention?” Dad asked as Danny handed him the envelope. He tore it open and unfolded the letter. It didn’t take him long to read it.
“It was an accident,” Danny explained. “I thought he was Captain Mack.”
Dad laid the letter in his lap and looked at Danny. “I’m not so concerned with the disrespect to Mr Whaley. I can see that it was a genuine if slightly clumsy mistake. I just wonder whether saluting an old man who thinks he’s still at war is really the right thing to do. Don’t you think it’s making light of something rather more serious than a game of pretend?”
“He doesn’t mind.”
“Whether or not he minds isn’t the point.”
“He makes me do it if I forget, Dad. It makes him feel important or something. I don’t think it is pretend for him.”
“Hmm,” Dad said, rubbing his chin. “Well, don’t forget what I said the other night about showing this man the respect he deserves. Remember, even though he’s a little out of touch —”
“I know, Dad.”
“Just keep reminding yourself of it.”
He went to deliver the razors and hair-gel the following day. Captain Mack wasn’t at his unit, so after searching in the gardens for a while Danny went into the hospital and found Ellie.
“What’s up?” she asked, looking slightly flustered.
“I can’t find Captain Mack,” he said.
“Oh, I forgot. He’s in here. Come with me.”
She led him down a short cream-coloured passageway to a small room. “He’s in there,” she said. “Sorry I can’t hang about — I’ve got a million things to do before I go. I’ll meet you in the car-park at the usual time.”
“What happened to him?” Danny asked as she began to hurry off.
“He’ll tell you,” she replied over her shoulder.
Danny put his head around the doorway. Captain Mack was alone, lying on a trolley in the corner of the pale, shiny room. He had a white bandage on his forehead, with his eyepatch looped over the top.
“What happened to you, sir?” Danny asked.
“Ah, Snell, get over here. Quick now, lad!” Captain Mack propped himself up on one elbow. “Quick now, I said!”
Danny reached into his bag for the razors and gel. “I got that stuff you wanted.”
Captain Mack grabbed Danny’s hands and pushed the toiletries back into the bag. “What are ye doing? Are ye mad?” he hissed.
“It’s just razors and —”
“I can see what it is, Private, and here’s not the place to give them to me.”
“Where, then —”
“Just listen. I’ve got a most urgent message I need ye to deliver.”
“Sure. What is it?”
He glanced about before whispering, “They’re being less subtle about it now, Snell.”
“About what?”
Captain Mack pointed at his bandage. “Ye think this was an accident? No, lad, it was nothing of the kind. They made sure it happened, because they know.”
“They know what, sir?”
“I think they know about Tierney, but I can’t be sure. Oh Lord, what a mess,” he moaned, flopping back onto the bed and putting both hands to his face. “I’ve got to get out of this place, Snell. If they think I can’t work, then that’ll be the end.”
“Can’t work?”
“There’s still so much to do, lad — don’t ye understand? If they find Tiemey, the game’s up. We’ve got to stay busy so we keep them distracted. But the lads are dropping like flies, and there’s still so far to go! Oh Lord …”
A nurse came into the room then, saving Danny from having to ask any more questions about Tierney or what kind of work Captain Mack thought he was supposed to be doing. She smiled at Danny as she went over to the trolley. “OK, Mr McAuliffe, the doctor won’t be long coming to stitch up that head of yours, all right? Are you comfy there?” she asked.
“I’m all right, don’t ye worry about me.”
“Great. We’ll see you soon, then.” She turned to go.
“Excuse me,” Danny asked her, “can you tell me what happened? He won’t say.”
“It’s just a bit of a gash, that’s all. He tripped on his front step.”
“Aye, that’s what they say, lad, but the truth is rather different,” Captain Mack interrupted. “Don’t listen to them, or they’ll poison yer mind. Savages …”
The nurse winked at Danny. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Is she gone?” Captain Mack asked as the door closed behind her.
“Yeah, she’s gone.”
“Typical of these people, lad. Kind to yer face, but knock ye down when ye least expect it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did he really trip over on his porch?” Danny asked Ellie as they drove home.
“I’m afraid so. He’s getting so frail, Danny. I don’t think it’ll be long before they move him into the hospital wing.”
“He really doesn’t like nurses, does he?”
Ellie laughed. “He doesn’t like anyone, Danny. Except you, that is. You’re the only one he doesn’t see as the enemy.”
NINE
It was Saturday morning, and Danny and Dad were at the supermarket doing their grocery shopping. They were standing indecisively in front of the pasta when a woman and her three sons came around the end of the aisle and stopped near the rice. One of the boys was Shaun Gilmore, and Danny saw him look up, noticed the sudden flicker of recognition. Immediately Danny felt his chest tighten.
“How many types of pasta can there be? They all taste the same after all. Oh, these will do,” Dad said defeatedly, tossing a packet of spaghetti into the trolley and moving towards Shaun and his family. “Come on, let’s get this awful job over with,” he said as he sensed Danny’s hesitation.
They stopped a couple of metres from Mrs Gilmore, Dad studying the shelf packed with every kind of rice imaginable. Shaun’s two older brothers were fooling about nearby, tossing a large tub of yoghurt back and forth between them like a football while their mum looked flustered and tried to concentrate on her list. Shaun was eyeing Danny, trying to appear menacing but only really succeeding in looking embarrassed to be caught doing the groceries with his mum.
“Think quick, Shauny,” one of his brothers said, under-arming the yoghurt at him. He saw it late and fumbled it. The container hit the floor and split, yoghurt oozing out onto the lino.
Shaun’s brothers slunk away, leaning against each other and laughing. “Pathetic!” one of them gasped.
“Shaun!” his mother snapped, smacking him on the arm. “Cut it out! Now go and get a new one and stop playing with it, for crying out loud!”
Shaun lowered his red face as he pushed past Dad’s trolley. “Excuse me,” he muttered. Danny tried to catch his eye, but Shaun wasn’t looking up for anything.
The afternoon sky was cloudy, and the rain had just stopped. Danny knocked on the door, but this time Captain Mack didn’t even ask who it was. “Go away, whoever ye are,” he growled.
“But it’s me — Private Snell,” Danny called out. “Can I come in? I brought chocolate biscuits today.”
Rather than sounding grumpy or suspicious as it usually did, Danny thought that Captain Mack’s voice was different. Sad, as if he was crying, or about to start.
“Are you all right, Captain Mack?” he asked.
“Hang on, then,” Captain Mack finally answered in a tired voice. Danny could hear him shuffling across the room. “If ye can’t take no for an answer I suppose I’d best let ye in.”
The door opened. Captain Mack was standing there in a brand new red tartan dressing gown. He didn’t have his eye-patch on, and there were damp streaks under his good eye.
Danny straightened up in preparation for a salute when Captain Mack said, “Don’t be going on with all that nonsense — I’m not up to it today. Just come in and park ye backside if ye plan to stay. And if ye want tea ye’ll have to get it for yeself. I can’t do it. I don’t have the strength.”
Danny didn’t know what to say. He thought about excusing himself and leaving, but something about Captain Mack told him that he should stay. Something sad and desperate, like the frustration Ellie had described as they’d waited at the traffic lights. So he went into the little lounge-room, which despite having the curtains pulled wide open for once, seemed very dark.
Captain Mack slumped into his chair and stared straight ahead. It was as if Danny wasn’t even there. Danny sat nervously and watched him, saying nothing.
“Are you all right?” he asked again, after they’d been that way for what seemed like hours, sitting like statues on opposite sides of the dim room.
“No, I’m not all right,” Captain Mack answered without even looking at him. “I’m nothing like all right.”
“Why’s that? Have you had some bad news?”
“Ye could say that.”
“What sort of bad news?”
At last Captain Mack turned his head and looked at Danny. His eye was red and full of tears. “It’s my son William,” he said at last. “Ye’ve not met him, have ye?”
Danny shook his head.
There was another lengthy pause. Again Danny waited.