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Popeye Never Told You

Page 4

by Rodney Hall


  now we get busy with our fingers and this is the mucky part,

  and Mike goes for another and sure enough theres tadpoles struggling here and we find our first-ever newt,

  and Mike says ‘no one really believes those stories about a giant pike living at the bottom of this canal’

  and ive got my fingers in among the weed and im feeling about in there but i look down into the green water and i think something big is shifting along in secret, and i start to worry and my hair prickles when i see some sludgy ripples,

  ‘oy!’ i shout because this fish must be bigger than me and maybe half as long as the whole canal, and i rescue our jars with the tadpoles swimming about in them, so we all run away to flop on the soft grass where its safe to watch,

  but nothing happens,

  theres just bees humming and i can smell wild parsley,

  ‘what can a pike do to you?’ Di asks,

  ‘a six-foot pike’ Mike says ‘oooh!’

  ‘can it bite your leg off?’ Di asks,

  ‘probably’ Mike says ‘just like an angry swan can break your arm flapping its wing’

  but i say ‘where are the swans?’

  for goodness sake!

  ‘everythings too quiet’ Di says,

  and the water is still and green with a dragonfly stuck on its reflection,

  ‘even so the world is turning under us’ Mike says,

  and i think this is ridiculous because youve only got to look to see that it isnt,

  and its playtime, but before she lets us out Miss Wilkins claps her hands,

  ‘children’ she says ‘you need to be brave’

  and bits of her grey hair come loose from her bun,

  ‘its the war’ she says ‘the war gets worse and worse’

  but i dont know what that means,

  ‘and England is doing its best’

  and we sit behind our desks looking at her because we cant guess whats coming next or whether we are supposed to repeat after her,

  ‘it doesnt bear thinking about’ Miss Wilkins says ‘but we could lose, and thats the dreadful truth’

  so playtime is totally spoilt because nobody feels like racing around or laughing at all because everyones been to the Gaumont and seen the Movietone news from the frontline, so we stand round with our friends and shrug our shoulders and stick our hands in our pockets, and the boys whove got coins jingle them,

  my collars up and i have to walk backwards against the rain and against the wind too, and the back of my knees is getting wet and theres water in my shoes, but i dont care because im in second class and that means im growing up and ever since my birthday i dream about stealing a bike to try it out, and although Guys bike is too big to get my leg over thats my idea,

  i want

  to go fast

  love

  because im alone i can wander about for as long as i like and everybody knows this bookshop is called WH Smiths because there are books on all the shelves and childrens books on the tables, and i find an Enid Blyton and i get a good idea,

  so, is anybody watching me?

  no,

  i pop it under my jersey just like that,

  and i cant breathe in case something dreadful happens now,

  but when i look up, all there is is quiet people turning the pages or poking around in their purses, so i stare at an atlas thats open but i dont really see anything,

  i reach for the door and im out into the street,

  i scram because otherwise someones going to catch me, i have to dodge among the ladies with their shopping baskets, and my arms are pistons, speeding away down the hill towards Gloucester Road to duck round the corner and hide behind Tucks bakers shop where i get in among the rubbish bins, and i take a pencil out of my pocket and write my name inside the front cover,

  there!

  because the good thing about writing your name in a book is that this is how you make it yours, and if any grown-ups stop me now and ask what im doing with it they can see for themselves, so i peep out in case i can spot someone chasing me and then i begin to walk home the long way through the park where its safer than the street, and im a real robber and everybody knows me so i have to keep moving, but what worries me is the problem of where to hide this book because theres no hope of keeping anything secret from Michael in our bedroom, and theres nowhere else in the flat that Di wont notice, and worst of all if Guy comes to know hes sure to call the police and i shall get put in prison and theyll make Mum pay a fine to let me out,

  and the more i think about it the worse it is, and the only thing to do is put it back where i got it from,

  back in the main street again i keep walking past the window outside WH Smiths, pretending to look through the glass at the books and i hope no one in theres watching me, but i dont know how to go in because i dont dare, and so i dither like Mike says i do when hes mad at me and this is awful,

  ‘hullo Rod’ says Roger Sawyer,

  and i just grab the door handle and now i have to go through with it, so i step inside under the jingling bell and my ears are burning because Mrs Arbuthnot looks up to see, but i go straight to the table where theres the pile of Enid Blyton books and im praying to Jesus to stop my ears burning because theyre going to give me away! and i pick up one book and then another with the same story in it, and this is like charades because i have to pretend, and i pretend i cant decide, but the shop ladies are too busy dinging the till and wrapping up books to take a scrap of notice and theres plenty of time, so i slip the stolen one out from under my jersey,

  all done!

  Mrs Arbuthnot calls out ‘are you looking for something, Rodney?’

  ‘n-no, thank you’

  and i can feel my face is redder than ever so i make a getaway,

  ‘goodbye dear’ she calls,

  im back at the door and she waves from behind the counter, but im out!

  and i wish you were here so you could give Mike a thrashing because even big boys cry if theyre hit hard enough,

  now Mike says im big enough to play truant with him but hes playing truant from the big school and im only a truant from Miss Wilkinses Infants, though im happy its just us together doing something wrong, and we take our sandwiches down to the canal,

  ‘youll be okay’ he tells me ‘because the whole town is up in arms against Miss Wilkins anyway’

  and i can see them up in arms and all with guns and swords,

  ‘why?’

  ‘because of what she told you kids about losing the war’ he tells me ‘and the Home Guard wants to shut her school down’

  ‘Mum says if it was in Kangaroo Valley it would be okay’ i say,

  ‘i told you before that youre an idiot’ Mike says ‘because you dont know the first thing about Australia’

  ‘i do, i know’

  ‘its way down at the bottom of the world’

  ‘why?’

  ‘what kind of question is why?’

  ‘my kind of question’

  ‘just get this into your head’ he says ‘to go to Sydney you have to sail across the Atlantic Ocean and then the Mediterranean Sea and then the Indian Ocean and then the Pacific’

  ‘why are some called oceans and some called seas?’

  ‘ask Miss Wilkins’ he says ‘one day when youre not playing truant’

  and we dodge under the bridge because theres someone coming,

  ‘i will’ i promise,

  ‘anyway if id thought you were going to talk the whole time’ Mike says ‘i wouldnt have let you come’

  we three walk along the edge of the railway track to get a closer look because theres a train stopped on the siding with steam up,

  ‘he cant chase us off’ Mike says ‘he has to stay in his engine’

  ‘lets dare him!’ i say,

  and Di says ‘its only a boring old freight train’

  ‘shunting’

  ‘pick up a couple of stones’ Mike tells us ‘in case he chases us and we need to chuck them at him�


  and we are all good chuckers and good runners too,

  but the driver takes no notice and keeps on wiping the brass handrails,

  ‘get ready to run’ Di whispers,

  but instead i dart right up to the engine,

  ‘hullo mister’ i say,

  and the driver leans out to look down and a cloud of steam gets me coughing,

  ‘wanna climb up here for a bit of a look around?’ he says,

  ‘truly?’

  ‘suit yourself’ he says,

  but Mike pushes past me so he can be first and then Di pushes past and im left behind and the steps are very steep and high off the ground, but once we are up there the driver gives me first turn trying out his seat and im allowed to take hold of the steel levers,

  ‘theyre so smooth and warm’ i say,

  ‘can i try?’ says Di,

  ‘course you can, darlin’ says the driver ‘just dont start us going’

  ‘shall we fetch some lumps of coal for you?’ i ask ‘for the fire?’

  and thats why im standing getting too hot because the furnace door is open and i know there has to be a good blaze to heat the boiler,

  ‘take the shovel with you’ the driver says,

  but the shovel is too big to manage even for Michael so we cross over the bridge into the tender and bring back some lumps in our hands to throw into the furnace,

  ‘thats the ticket’ the driver says ‘those should get me another mile closer to London’

  and just up ahead the signal clunks from Stop to Go,

  ‘times up’ he tells us,

  ‘thank you, driver’ Diana says,

  and Michael shakes his hand and then we all jump down and i get out my train-spotting book to find the number and i draw a huge star beside it, and now hes going i forgot to say goodbye,

  under the station clock we fool around pretending weve got platform tickets and dodging into the toilets to escape the porters and then we head for the waiting-rooms,

  ‘steam locomotion’ Mike explains ‘is a scientific marvel’

  i run my finger across the timetable pasted on the wall and i can recite the station names that i know by heart and Mike offers to help some passengers sitting there,

  ‘if you want to choose the best connections’ he says ‘we can tell you’

  ‘thank you all the same’ says a lady sounding high and mighty ‘we shall catch the four forty’

  ‘but that train always runs late’ Mike warns her,

  ‘nevertheless—’

  ‘and it stops at every station’ he says ‘so youre better to wait for the four fifty-two direct’

  ‘it might be worth our while to check’ says another lady,

  ‘my brother knows everything’ i tell them ‘and its because the last stationmaster used to give us tea’

  ‘in pannikins’ Di adds,

  ‘and he told us hed offer us jobs’ i remember,

  ‘if it wasnt for the Union’ Mike says,

  ‘but he died’ i tell them in case they get the wrong idea,

  ‘or left’ Di says,

  ‘and now the signalman hates us’ i say,

  ‘and he chases us’ Di says,

  ‘so thats why we keep going back there’ i tell the ladies ‘just to get him mad’

  out on the tracks we squat down between the lines to put our pennies on the rails so theyll be flattened out and i get a bright idea,

  ‘weve got so much money it might be enough to go somewhere’

  ‘children have to have a grown-up with them’ Di says,

  ‘but wholl know?’ i say,

  and because Gran gave Mike sixpence for mending her spectacles and because we have another fourpence between us and because thats enough to buy three half-singles third-class to Stonehouse with a penny left over we decide to go,

  ‘but wheres Stonehouse?’ i ask when the train comes,

  and Mike says ‘a couple of miles’

  a couple of miles!

  and we are in and it smells lovely and sooty but while we argue about which compartment we are going to sit in a soldier pushes past and bangs the door shut so we choose the corridor instead and stand leaning there with our elbows on the sill and sticking our heads out to watch the train roll away from the station and gather speed, and the telegraph poles go batting away behind us,

  ‘if we measured the distance between the poles’ Mike says ‘we could calculate how fast we are going’

  but i can see how fast we are going and i hang out as far as i dare so the wind can bang my hair about, and when weve had enough of that we set out along the swaying corridor to reach the end of the carriage, but between this carriage and the next i can see the ground skimming,

  ‘dont be scared’ says Mike ‘just step straight over’

  and this one is the first-class carriage so we give the seats a test and i let a window down on its leather strap and lean out again, but a scrap of soot flies into my eye though Mike says its okay and he makes me sit on the seat and uses his fingers to pull my face around,

  ‘ive brought a hanky’ Di says,

  so she pokes at my eye to get the soot out, but the door slides open with a bang and an inspector in a cap clicks his punch at us while Mike shows our tickets,

  ‘we spent all our pocket money on those’ i tell him,

  and Di pipes up ‘are you going to put us in prison?’

  so i could kill her,

  but the inspector squints at her and he says ‘no, lassie, you just pay a fine and that will do’

  ‘but we cant’ i say,

  and Michael shows him our last penny,

  ‘name?’ the inspector says and he opens his notebook and takes out an indelible pencil to lick it with his horrid purple tongue while he gets ready to write,

  ‘Roger Sawyer’ Mike tells him,

  and i cant believe my ears because hes the one who always tells us never to tell lies,

  ‘what?’ i yell and ‘ow!’ i yell,

  because Mike kicks me,

  ‘this is my sister’ he says ‘and thats my brother’

  so the inspector writes down Roger Sawyer and Mike gives him Rogers address though i wiggle my eyebrows to remind him that Rogers house is gone,

  ‘youll be hearing from us’ says the inspector and then he shuts his book ‘now, out with you!’

  and he shoos us into the next car where the soldier looks up at us and glares so we sit on the edge of the hard seat and we dont dare speak while he can listen, but i get a good look at his rifle while ive got the chance,

  ‘look at that’ Di says and points because Stonehouse station still has the name up,

  ‘it must be too small to matter’ Mike explains,

  and the soldier stands up suddenly and slings the rifle over his shoulder and he jumps to the ground on his hobnails, then we jump down too, and the locomotive chuffs steam and the wheels squeal and the couplings clatter,

  ‘good riddance to bad rubbish!’ i yell at the guards van when it passes,

  but the soldier stops and looks back at me, so i point at the train to show him what i mean but im ready to run just the same,

  ‘idiot!’ Mike snarls at me under his breath,

  but its alright though because the soldier pushes through the turnstile and hes out, and we can see some army tents in a field and a hut with smoke coming from the chimney pipe.

  ‘what are we going to do?’ Di wails,

  ‘lets check the timetable’ i say,

  ‘so we can catch another train and get caught again?’ Mike says ‘and this time without any tickets at all?’

  so we walk and the only way i can keep on walking is to get giddy watching the road pass under my feet but not as fast as the ground under the train, and we walk past hedges and we walk past fields till we are all tired and it starts to get dark,

  ‘i cant go any faster’ i say,

  ‘stop grizzling’ Mike says ‘this is a Forced March and winning the war depends on us, because weve
got the secret code so we have to keep in step like a proper army’

  no one dares to say anything about Mum getting worried,

  and i tap my boiled egg with a spoon the proper way to crack the shell, but Guy just takes hold of a knife and slices the top off his,

  the boys in the gang roll up their sleeves like soldiers because that way they look tough and we watch them and they watch us, till Di and i step back out of sight under the roof of the railway station because Mike didnt come today so we dont have him to protect us, and anyway we know who these kids are because they sometimes try catching us on our way home from school, but they dont know that we can report them now weve got a detective at our place! so im all ready to run across the street and escape or at least give it a try when the hotel door bangs open and some drunks come out in a crowd, and drunks are the worst of all because theyre troops on leave from the war and one of them opens his buttons to do his business in the alley at the side of Harrises and i watch, and the kids in the gang start talking to the men and i wonder how they know them and what theyre saying and one day im going to join a gang,

  and in Grans bathroom i get a good look at Great-Uncle Monts shaving brush and safety razor and his shaving soap and when he sits with me for breakfast Gran gives us toast and margarine with homemade marmalade,

  ‘youll have to make do’ she says ‘we shant have butter till the end of the war’ and Great-Uncle Mont shakes his head and his jaw is working at the toast so he has to slurp some tea to help it down and he reaches over to pat my knee,

  ‘give my love to Dods’ he says ‘i have a soft spot for Dods’

  ‘his mother’ Gran tells him and she always nods her head to back up what she says ‘is still true to Dick, God rest his soul’

  and i know that everyone called Mums husband Dick even though he was christened Percy Edgar,

  ‘poor Dick’ says Great-Uncle Mont,

  ‘hes sadly missed’ says Gran,

  but not by me! because i never even knew him, but i do remember an airman with POLAND on his shoulder speaking to Mum in Lewises shop, and afterwards she said she wouldnt put up with it, but i didnt take too much notice because theres a lot of things like that, and she even turns her nose up at us getting milk at school because it stands in crates getting warm on the school step, and she wrinkles her nose at the fish shop and she wont put up with boys on rollerskates,

 

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