Popeye Never Told You

by Rodney Hall

  Great-Uncle Mont uses both hands to steady his teacup and he watches me over the rim as if he can see what im thinking,

  ‘the boy is a Hall through and through’ he says ‘he takes after his late uncle Ted’

  ‘true enough’ says Gran ‘hes not a Buckland like Fred, thats for certain, nor a Gabb like you and me’

  and this gets my goat, because i hate being talked about as if im not there and i can feel my ears burning, so i get down from the table and run upstairs to the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror looking in my face to find me, so i frown and i grin and im serious, but its just the same phizzog as always,

  ‘we mustnt be late’ Gran calls up to warn me,

  so now its time to head off home and Guy will have gone to work, so i jump downstairs three at a time and Grans carpets so thick i hardly make a sound,

  ‘goodness gracious you do remind me!’ she says,

  and i race straight out through the open door,

  ‘im nearly seven!’ i shout back at her,

  ‘youll have to wait for me because you cant walk home alone’ she calls out after me and shes trying to stick a big hatpin into her hat ‘im coming with you’

  and in my dream i did swallow a pip and the tree grew and i couldnt get it out of me, but some girl in my dream promised that if i could only swallow her too she could get in there and cut it down for me,

  things look the same as always because the street is the same and the rain is the same and the grocer is the same too, and hes getting the same stuff as usual down off the shelves and his moustache is all grey and hes got the same pencil stuck behind his ear and the same shelves behind him with a shelf of biscuits and a shelf of tomato sauce and a shelf of jam and a shelf of starch packets and a shelf of condensed milk, and im so tall now i can put my chin on the counter to watch what he does so i make sure he doesnt cheat us when he weighs out our sugar,

  ‘youve only got enough coupons for half a pound’ the grocer says,

  ‘we know’ says Di,

  and the name on the scales is Avery,

  and i can spell because im a school boy,

  ‘A very’ i explain to Mike in a whisper in case he hasnt seen, and the grocer scoops some more from the sugar sack and i watch the needle creep up bit by bit, but the grocer gives me a dirty look while he folds the top of the bag and i give him a dirty look back,

  ‘i wont be taking cheek from you, young fella-me-lad!’ he says and reaches for a tin of golden syrup,

  ‘what did he do this time?’ Mike asks him,

  and then he gets his hands round my neck to show the grocer how he could strangle me, but i love this syrup tin with its picture of bees flying round a sleeping lion because its all real gold and shiny green, and i watch the grocers scissors snip some coupons out of our ration books,

  ‘whats next?’ the grocer says and strokes his moustache and picks up our list,

  ‘biscuits’ says Mike,

  ‘these?’

  and the grocer sticks the pencil back behind his ear and licks his fingers to open a new paper bag that he fills with broken biscuits from a box because the broken ones are the cheapest,

  and every day Diana and ive got to watch out that Mike doesnt get away and leave us behind, so when he goes out we chase him and catch up,

  but this rooster in the fairytale has been cut in half so hes got only one wing and one leg and one eye and half a body, and everywhere he walks he has to hop, so no wonder hes bad-tempered and he wont stop to help anybody on his way to Madrid to see the King, but the Kings cook pops him in the dinner pot and though the half-rooster asks the cook to spare him he wont, and though he asks the water to spare him it wont, and nor will the fire and even the wind says no, and so the story finishes and thats why he ends up on a church steeple turning this way and that way and i remember every word,

  but i still dont get it,

  Mike starts chucking stones in the stream but its no good trying to skip them because he says you need a low bank to get the right angle, so instead of flat stones he bombs the stream with big chunky ones that crash into the wet pebbles and Di does the same, and so i choose a monster and i have to hitch my scarf out of the way before i can waddle over to the bank with it,

  ‘crikey!’ says Mike,

  ‘this ones the biggest of all’ i tell them,

  and i go to heave it into the stream, but my cap flies off and im a goner YOUCH! and im swamped! and cold water pours down my collar and sleeves and up my pants and my knees hurt and my fingers hurt and i cant breathe, but i stagger up and my feet stumble on the slippery pebbles, and my chest wont let me breathe, and the stream rushes round my knees, and the screams i can hear are coming from the bank above, and i dont know if im crying or not because my face is streaming wet and my hair drips and im shivering all over and the best i can do is to wade to the edge,

  ‘you forgot to let go of the stone’ Di laughs ‘that was the funniest thing in the world!’

  but Mike takes hold of my elbow and hes already rescued my cap and he helps me up,

  ‘one of those cottages’ he says looking ahead down the stream ‘has smoke coming from the chimney’

  and my teeth chatter and somehow im laughing and crying at the same time, but what i really feel is miserable and stupid and my knees hurt,

  but the cottage lady says we are welcome and she muffles me up in a blanket and my wet clothes hang steaming on a clothesline above the stove and the whole kitchen is smoky and dark and there are flames in the cracks, and now she pulls a prickly vest over my head and then a shirt and a jumper with the elbows out,

  ‘tell your mother this is all i can find for the present because my boys is wearing the good ones’ she says ‘i dont want her thinking’

  and she tweaks my ear and i like her,

  ‘most likely you youngsters already know my twins’ she says,

  and now that she laughs i can see shes got four teeth left and theyre all at the front,

  but i dont want to tell her that her twins are in the gang that chases us after school,

  and Mum throws up her hands,

  ‘thats twice the washing i shall have to do now!’ she says,

  and she chucks the borrowed stuff in the washtub,

  ‘i do wish youd be more responsible’ she says and holds her head,

  ‘i can wash them’ i say,

  ‘you can do nothing of the sort’ she says,

  because washing clothes is one job Mum always does and we never do,

  ‘i suppose theres really no way out of paying her a visit to thank her’ Mum says with a sigh ‘will i never have a moment to myself!’

  and our kettle is a dark blue that Mum calls royal blue but the dings in it show the metal underneath and its got a lid that can burn your fingers if you are not quick, and i bring Mum a cup of tea in bed and she blesses me even though shes in despair and she drinks it straight down without any sugar, ugh! and then she turns over and pulls the eiderdown up to her chin,

  ‘whats that pencil doing behind your ear?’ she says,

  ‘im a grocer’ i tell her,

  and we three have our tea in the kitchen where weve started work on a cut-out castle,

  ‘be careful to fold along the dotted lines’ Mike says ‘and glue them together’

  ‘more tea, Mum?’ i ask,

  ‘no thank you, darling’ says her muffled voice under the eiderdown, ‘have you got rid of that pencil?’

  our water pipes freeze and my ears hurt because the cold pinches them even though im wearing a balaclava and my is nose is running too and we are crossing the park on our way home from school and frosty dead leaves crunch under our shoes while we scuff along, and Dianas the luckiest because she finds a frozen cobweb and she breaks it off and she holds it out for me to see, and the cobweb is flat on her woollen hand,

  ‘you mustnt touch it or youll snap it in two’ she says,

  and i say ‘snap snap snap’ to practise whistling the ses like Miss Wilkins,
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br />   and Di laughs till shes sick because we are thinking up all the words that ever had an s in them, and when Mum gets home i tell her,

  ‘she makes a silver sound when she speaks’

  and Mum laughs,

  ‘as long as she teaches you manners’

  ‘we have to fold our arms on the desk’ i say ‘to have a sleep or at least a snooze’

  Guy says he needs meat more than once a week and hes got the coupons,

  i put the bookmark in page 87 so i can always find the picture where Gulliver is flat on his back and he cant move because the tiny beetle-size people swarming everywhere tie him down with a hundred threads,

  Mike makes a collection tin for us by punching a slot in the top of a condensed milk can and sharing out the condensed milk inside because its our favourite, and afterwards he pours boiling water in to clean the stickiness out and then he gets to work with his fountain pen and prints a perfect label For the Childrens Christmas,

  ‘do a Red Cross tin instead’ i suggest,

  but he wont and so we test the new tin like that because we are allowed to stay out after dark as long as we keep singing, and all through O Come All Ye Faithful our hopes are up because we sing so loud that a whole family of ladies come to listen at the open doorway,

  ‘sweet’ says the big one when we finish,

  and a girl of fifteen or so gets given a half-crown to bring down to us,

  and i hold out our new tin, keeping an eye on the coin while she bites her lip and its a glorious silver coin, because a half-crown must be the world record for carol singers, but she peers through her goggles at the slot,

  i shoot Michael a look,

  and she even takes the tin out of my hand to rattle it because theres three pennies and the sixpence already in there, and she gets a good look at the label,

  ‘its not for anybody’ she calls over her shoulder,

  ‘well just thank the children nicely, dear’ her mother tells her ‘and come inside’

  the proper way to wear a scarf is to wind it round your neck then throw the end over your shoulder,

  Mikes got us a sledge on loan and we can have it all day and the snow is thick at the golf links and all sparkling on the trees and there are other kids with their sledges but we find a quiet spot to ourselves,

  ‘theres a knack to sledging’ Mike says ‘and i shall teach you’

  ‘but we know already’ i say ‘you just sit on it and go’

  ‘thats unless you want to stop’ he says,

  and because he has to have the last word he lies down on the sledge to show us,

  ‘it hasnt got a brake so this way you can use your hands’ he says,

  and next thing hes tricked us, already sliding away and im left standing at the top of the slope with Di watching him glide right down to the bottom,

  ‘me next!’ we both yell at the same time,

  and we bang the snow off our gloves and wave our arms around while we watch him drag our sledge back up, and his face is all pink,

  ‘this particular model has no steering either’ he explains to Di ‘its just metal runners nailed on to wood, alright? so you have to get a good grip and then lean to one side when you want to guide it’

  so Di sits on, clutching the sides like shes told, she looks proud as all get out and the sledge sets off and bounces her around while she zooms away and when she gets off she waves and jumps up and down and her voice sounds tiny like a bird voice,

  ‘one … where … must’

  so im lucky last,

  and now i know boys have to lie down and girls have to sit up, so Mike holds it steady while i lie face down on the wooden slats and get ready and the sledge feels big and suddenly the ground is too close,

  ‘sure youre alright?’ Mike says,

  too late!

  the sledge starts to move all by itself!

  WOW! and theres nothing to do except hang on, HELP! and the snow swoops, WHOOPEE! with me clinging on like mad, and im scared to death and its the fastest thing ever,

  everyone we know is on the lookout for butterfly bombs but no one ever seems to find any though we hunt under trees and bushes and we know they look like baked bean tins because we see the posters all around town and when they fall theres a hinge so the case opens out like a ladybirds wings, and they only go off when someone picks them up, so if we find one we mustnt touch it but we have to run and fetch the Home Guard instead,

  and our paraffin oil heater makes the whole kitchen pong but Mums promised us a caraway seed cake so im waiting to lick the wooden spoon and the bowl as well, but Guy comes bursting out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his middle and we can hear the bathwater gurgle away and the drain sucking,

  so its not true that all men have hairy chests,

  and Mum frowns at him and whips the cake mixture, but he whistles and leaves wet footmarks on the lino in the corridor and shuts the lounge room door behind him and hes dresssed when he comes out again with his hands behind his back and nothing on his feet,

  ‘come on kids, youre good at singing, you can sing along with me’ he says,

  Hey little hen, when, when, when

  Will you lay me an egg for my tea?

  and Mum always sniffs at his songs but hes got a surprise ready and hes holding it behind his back and now he brings it out and its some stockings,

  ‘nylons! thats such an extravagance!’ Mum cries out ‘Guy, you mustnt!’

  but he wont take them back,

  ‘you got these on the Black Market didnt you?’ she says,

  and now shes angry because the Black Market is a wicked thing, but a good way to make money,

  ‘im a policeman, after all’ he says and puts a finger on his lips,

  Mum says Guys the man of the house and now its Saturday morning he takes us to the pictures and i get to hold on to my own ticket while we queue up outside the Gaumont for a treat because this is Laurel and Hardy in something with a ladder thats hilarious, and while we wait for the second film i suck on a bullseye and watch newsreels of the war but we already know whats happening because we listen to the BBC, though its different when you can watch soldiers carrying the shells and the big artillery guns firing, and Mr Churchill smiles with a cigar in his mouth while he lifts his hat and makes the V sign so we know Miss Wilkins is wrong because we are going to win,

  but when we get home theres nothing to do except play dominoes and stuff in the kitchen because now Guy sleeps in the lounge room we dont go there anymore, not even to tinker with the piano and Mum has stopped singing,

  an iron blind rattles down outside the watchmakers and next to that theres a CLOSED sign hanging inside WH Smiths door,

  and i plan to walk backwards all the way home just to hold everyone up,

  ‘Rodney!’

  somebodys calling my name and im surprised and the others stop to watch because its Mrs Arbuthnot sticking her head out of the bookshop doorway,

  ‘do come back, Rodney’ she says,

  now it hits me,

  she has been lying in wait ever since that day!

  ‘just a moment’ she says,

  and she ducks inside and the CLOSED sign is flapping,

  ‘run!’ i whisper,

  ‘why?’ Mike says,

  but Diana grabs hold of me to stop me getting away,

  ‘have you been up to mischief?’ she says,

  ‘let go of me!’ i say,

  but already its too late because Mrs Arbuthnots back with a book in her hand,

  ‘whats this?’ says Mike,

  and i feel my face go red and my eyes fill with tears,

  ‘i didnt do it’ i say,

  ‘how any such thing could happen im sure i dont know’ Mrs Arbuthnot says ‘unless you were carrying your copy when you came in before Christmas’

  and i dont know what to say,

  she turns to Michael to explain to him,

  ‘apparently we were tidying up’ she says ‘and we put Rodneys book back in the pile
’

  something marvellous begins to catch up with me,

  ‘you big ones must see to it that he is more careful in future’ she says,

  and she puts the Enid Blyton in my hands,

  ‘goodbye’ she says,

  and back she goes and closes the door on herself, so i hold it out to show my brother and he takes it and opens the front cover and stands for ages reading my name written in my own writing,

  ‘i didnt want Guy to take Mum down to the police station’ i say when theres no escape ‘thats why i gave it back’

  ‘well if you stole it in the first place youre going to have to throw it away’ Mike says,

  ‘not now Mrs Arbuthnot has given it to me!’ i stamp and scream in the middle of the street till people stop and stare ‘and you saw! and she did!’

  and Mike pulls a face and tries to shut me up, then he just sticks my book inside his own jumper,

  ‘i dont know why im doing this’ he says,

  and i like lying down under a tree and looking up at the sky when its blue and listening to see what i can hear, and i dont mind when Miss Wilkins calls me a dreamer only i dont like real dreams much because real dreams are mostly about men with guns stepping out of my bedroom cupboard,

  and i need to hurry or Gran might catch me out, because if she doesnt shes never going to guess that im peeing on her beautiful carpet right under this cow picture, and the bathrooms only just upstairs so theres no reason, but i want to, and the carpet soaks it up and theres not a thing to be seen so now i shall never be found out,

  and i sit on one side of the table and Aunt Olive sits on the other side and in between us is her fruitcake and its still warm and shes jolly and we keep taking slices till weve eaten the whole thing right down to the last crumb,

  ‘there’ says Aunt Olive ‘so thats that!’

  and i call her aunty though she isnt really and she gets up to put a record on a gramophone and weve got a gramophone too but ours doesnt work,

  ‘Popeyes sweetheart is called Olive’ i tell her,

  and she smiles at me and she looks nice,

  ‘do you like the Palm Court Orchestra?’ she asks,