‘On account of just that, Wilder don’t do decent.’
Trey watched for clues to Lamby and watched for clues of the Preacher and there was something in Wilder that Trey realised had been there when he first met him; he was secretive and dangerous and Trey couldn’t take his eyes off the boy nor his mind from the fact he knew more than most.
When he heard his name he turned to Kay and he realised she had been asking him a question.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘You want puddin? I’m goin up.’
Trey nodded and he went back to looking until he saw Wilder storm from the tent.
‘He int got no respect,’ he said to himself and he remembered Billy had taught him everything right and wrong and all that lay between.
He watched the chaplain disappear from view and Kay come in his place and he took the apple that was meant for pudding and they both laughed and when the twins joined them they all laughed more.
‘I got news,’ she said when she settled to sitting.
‘Bout Lamby?’ Trey asked.
‘Bout the Preacher, he might be on his way back.’
Trey bit hard into the apple and a bit of lip went in with the thrill of the moment.
‘When?’ he asked.
‘Soon is all I know. It int good anyway. Preacher only means one thing and that’s somethin int right.’
Trey wiped the blood from his lip. ‘We know that, don’t we?’
Kay shrugged and when they were told there would be no free time tonight and to head to their bunkhouses she turned to Trey and agreed.
Outside the tent Trey was quick to get to the bunkhouse for peace and planning and when he saw the chaplain beckon towards him he looked down at his feet and when he heard him call out his name there was nothing more he could do because of the polite that was in him and he stopped and waited.
‘Tremain,’ the man shouted. ‘Tremain Pearce, init?’
Trey nodded.
‘Been meanin to catch you.’
‘I int got nothin to do with Wilder,’ said Trey. ‘We int friends or nothin.’
‘I wanted to give you somethin.’
The chaplain reached into his pocket and Trey stood stony and waited.
‘This is yours, init?’ He told Trey to open his hands.
‘Dad’s watch.’ Trey started to smile. ‘Dad’s watch,’ he said over.
‘I noticed DB had it in his office and I read the inscription and, well, it just int right keepin somethin like that when it int meant.’
Trey wanted to thank him but there were no words in him that came close to how he felt and when the chaplain left he went to the bunkhouse and sat on his bed to finish the sallow apple with the blood stained to it. It felt good to have Dad’s watch in his hand and he put it on. Something of Dad was in that watch and it gave him strength. It permeated his skin and charged through his veins like a drug. A remnant from home that was knock tough and through its resonating power Trey knew he would build back stronger than before.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Over the following days things in camp started to change. At first it was just small things that Trey noticed; the siren that boomed half an hour later in the mornings and half an hour too early at night. Each night Trey sat in bed with his watch firmly in place and he made a note of routine changes. It wasn’t just that each night the masters locked them up an hour longer, there were other things too. Trey had noticed the truck had been spending more time around camp, making short trips to the furnace when usually it lay dormant for days.
The smoke about camp had changed too; it no longer smelt of the usual burning carcasses but other things and the smoke no longer bellowed black but white.
The next morning and the third since Lamby’s departure and Trey stood at the butcher’s block and he couldn’t think of one single thing that was worse. He stood with the knife in hand and he waited for the first dead cow of the day to come his way.
He looked at the beautiful black animal laid out on the slab like a sacrifice before him and he told himself it was the business of morgue that they were working in. He stood back from the corpse. A few days on and he didn’t want to be a part of whatever this was and he wished the body was the Preacher’s. If it were, all this would be job done.
‘I don’t feel too good,’ he said suddenly and he put down the knife and went to find Jack.
‘I’m sick,’ he told him.
‘You bin sick?’ the boy asked.
Trey shook his head. ‘Gettin.’
‘You gettin sick?’
Trey nodded.
‘Well you don’t get to leave till you get sick.’ He looked at Trey and then he asked for the knife. ‘Go get a drink of water. You got five minutes.’
Trey went to the bathroom and he went to the cubicle for alone time. He really didn’t feel so good and he put his head in his hands to steady himself. He knew the demon was waking and rattling around inside and his head hurt from all the tower-block thinking. He had no more room for stacking thoughts.
Outside he could hear the rain running rivers across the iron roof and in the distance the howl of thunder and he could tell it was heading their way; a storm coming and closing in on the moor and the circle of camp hidden within.
He got to his feet and flushed for the sake of pretending and went to the tap for a drink and splash and that was when he decided he could take no more. Soon the five minutes would be up and in that time he needed to edge between the butchery and the neighbouring slaughterhouse and past the storage crates without being seen. He headed to the entrance hall and found his oilskin still wet on its peg and he wrapped it and hooked the hood and went out into the rain.
He went towards the farm and when he saw the stable door open he was grateful for it because the place was the nearest thing to a happy home.
He stood in the grey and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim and he took off the wet coat and hung it on a nail in the wall. He knew it was early but he wondered if he might risk being caught AWOL if he went to find Kay so he sat down and waited.
He listened to the rain play havoc with its volume control and he turned his ear to the usual cattle call but guessed most were long gone piston dead and done. Through the stable eaves the wind pushed wet and warm like warning breath and Trey breathed minims along with it.
‘Trey?’
He recognised the voice and he turned his ear fully.
‘Who is that?’ he asked.
‘You know who it is, dumbo.’
Trey stood soldier quick. ‘Lamby?’ he shouted.
‘Shush.’ The boy climbed down from high up in the rafters. ‘Shut up, will you, I’m a fugitive.’
Trey waited for him to reach solid ground and he asked him about his injuries.
‘Just what you see, few cuts and bruises is all. I played it worse than it was.’
‘Played what? Where you bin?’
‘The injuries. I went to hospital, just kept screamin and they took me straight in the truck.’
‘You’re lucky Wilder dint give you more of a kickin.’
‘Know that, don’t I?’
‘What you say to him?’
‘That int important right now. You gonna listen cus you won’t believe it? You might guess at it but you won’t.’
‘Try me,’ said Trey.
They sat cross-legged to the stable floor and Trey told him to hurry up with the storytelling for once because strange things had been happening around camp in recent days and he asked if Lamby had something to do with it.
‘Reckon so.’
‘We was worried bout you.’
‘Really?’
Trey shrugged.
‘Really really?’
‘Who beat you? Just Wilder, was it?’
Lamby nodded.
‘Thought as much.’
‘Well I kind of wound him up to do it if I’m honest with you.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Let me finish. I got Wilder to
beat me, which weren’t hard, cus I needed to get out of camp and let’s face it the only way past that fence is beat or in a body bag. Anyway, off to hospital Lamby goes and before you ask why I’ll tell you.’ He sat up suddenly and smiled.
‘So why?’ asked Trey.
‘To tell the authorities bout this place.’
‘Don’t everyone know? Does anyone care to know?’
‘They dint know what I had to tell em.’
‘Is this gonna take long? I got a headache.’
‘Again? Anyway, I got to talkin with some guards who was Army Police and good-oh for us I think they took it serious enough to investigate, you know, with all the problems goin on out there, they don’t need a place like this in business.’
‘Lamby?’
‘Yep?’
‘What you talkin bout?’
‘The drugs.’
‘What drugs?’
‘The drugs, the drug factory they got the immigrants workin at.’
‘You serious?’
‘Not normally but in this case yes, I seen it. All them underground storage bunkers, that’s what they’re there for. That’s why we’ve bin diggin trenches.’
‘Get on.’
‘Trey, I seen it. Weren’t meant to see it but I did. I was wonderin bout em illegals and how they’re kept workin underground and the rest and so I went and had a look and then I saw it, rows and rows of plants, cannabis.’
‘You seen it?’
‘Promise.’
‘How you manage it?’
‘Broke in.’
‘How?’
‘Air vent, it was easy, just broke it open and climbed in and went on goin till I fell to the floor.’
‘You int got no fear, have you?’
‘Not much.’
‘Anyone see you?’
‘No cus I landed on a bunk and all em kids was at work. Least now we know what em do proper.’
‘What you mean?’
‘Growin cannabis, manufacturin and the rest, that’s why they’re here.’
Trey crossed his legs and put his hands in his pockets. ‘What then? What they do with it once it’s processed? How they get it from camp?’
‘Well this is the best bit, I swear it is.’
‘Meat,’ they both said in unison.
‘That sounds bout right,’ said Trey. ‘With all the work we’re doin in butchers it makes sense.’
‘How’s that?’
‘Got them animals chopped and stored in a load of crates. I bet there’s plenty of room in there with em poor bastards. Where they take em?’
‘Export same as we know they do. Down the docks in the truck but then it don’t get shipped, ends up on the street.’
‘The Preacher’s got it all worked out,’ said Trey and he stood suddenly because the fight was coming back to him.
‘You reckon?’ asked Lamby.
‘Trust me,’ said Trey. ‘It’s the Preacher.’
‘You reckon defo?’
‘I know.’ He asked Lamby how he had managed to get back into camp without anyone seeing.
‘Easy,’ he smiled. ‘I took off from hospital and headed down to the dock for the camp truck. After the unload I snuck aboard and here I am, stinkin but alive.’
Trey stopped suddenly and he wished he’d thought of this escape plan himself. ‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Why what?’
‘Why come back?’
‘Cus of you guys, you and Kay and the twins.’
Trey stood a moment longer to look at the boy and it was as if he saw him for the first time and he was not just a friend but a true friend.
‘You can’t go runnin round,’ he told him.
‘I won’t.’
‘And even if you do only when it’s dark. There’s them out there that won’t be pleased to see you.’
‘Double won’t.’
‘And we gotta tell Kay.’ He went to the door with Lamby beside him and the two boys idled until the lunchtime siren went up. They waited for Kay to appear and when finally she did Trey waved for her to hurry up.
‘What?’ she shouted as she climbed the gate. ‘I’m busy.’
‘I got a surprise for you.’
‘What now?’
Trey stood back to let her pass through the door and when she saw Lamby standing there Trey couldn’t help but smile.
‘Ta-da,’ shouted Lamby and then he put a finger to his own lips. The two friends punched each other’s arms in play and the three of them sat circled to the ground and Trey listened as Lamby retold his story.
When he had finished Kay took a moment to contemplate and then she told them the immigrants had gone.
‘Gone where?’ asked Trey.
‘Out of camp. I saw em from the top field, all jammed in a truck.’
‘That’s tellin,’ said Lamby. ‘I don’t know what, but that’s tellin, init?’
‘We should go and take a look,’ said Kay. ‘I always wondered what the hell them kids was doin holed up like that.’
She looked at Lamby and before he could jump for some ‘let’s go’ plan she told him to stay put and she and Trey would go to lunch and back to work and at sundown they would meet up in the valley with the gorse growing crazy so they could hide if they needed to.
‘There’s just one problem,’ said Trey.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
‘I skipped off work this mornin.’
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you lads. Why you always lookin for trouble?’
Trey didn’t know what to say so he said nothing.
‘You have to go back. Just make out you was sick and you went out for fresh air.’
‘And then what?’ he asked.
‘How do I know? Make somethin up.’
Come sunset time roundabout Trey hid beneath a low-hanging hawthorn tree and he watched what little colour there was in the mizzle-mist sky take to the hills and disappear. The rain was nothing much now, but it had done a good job of filling the marshland that surrounded every rocky outcrop about the moor, turning it into plains of sucking sponge.
He looked at his watch for time and listened out for the others. When finally he saw them through the coming dark and there were four of them he was glad of it because the twins were big-bruiser fighting boys despite their good hearts.
They followed Lamby to the vent that was his first point of entry and each kid in turn dropped feet first into the building that would show Trey what he already knew: the Preacher was marrowbone bad. He stood next to Kay in the hope that he might absorb some of her valour and they waited for Lamby to find the switch on the torch so they could see. They went on, each one of them with worry and wonder in them because in a parallel life they were just kids messing and mooching for the sake of kicks.
‘Follow me,’ said Lamby.
‘We are,’ said Trey.
‘It int far.’
They went from the dorm with the narrow beds boxed floor to ceiling and the glimpse of other lives worse than theirs had the demon up and punching inside of Trey.
‘This int right,’ he said. ‘Bet them kids int even done bad and they bin treated worse’n dogs.’ When they were out of the squalid quarters he gave a sigh of relief.
Lamby stopped and they all stopped and stood in line behind him.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘Get on with it,’ said Kay.
They waited while he fiddled with the bolt on the door and they stepped into the space and Trey felt the wall for the switch and he flicked the room into white-light being.
‘It’s gone,’ said Lamby. ‘There was plants floor to ceiling.’ He looked at Kay and said he wasn’t making it up.
‘I believe you,’ she said. ‘Foil on the walls and em bright heat lights tell me they was growin somethin here.’
They went fully into the room and kicked at the filthy floor, each one alone in thought. Trey knew that the moving of the immigrant kids and the plants stripped and no signs left meant that th
ey were more than ever in a world not of their understanding. The camp had gone from some upstanding model of correctional religious facility to a place of slavery and illegality in equal measure.
Trey hoped now more than ever that the Preacher was in reach. The camp was being closed down bit by bit and it wouldn’t be long until they were split and packed and sent to other camps. The time was almost here to sniff the sly Preacher out of hiding, track him and kill him and get gone. Billy was waiting for him and he wished he could call out so loud that he would hear him holler.
‘I’m goin back to the bunkhouse,’ he said suddenly.
‘But we int seen the other rooms,’ said Lamby.
‘We should go, the siren’s gonna blow soon,’ he said. ‘I got thinkin of my own to do.’ He said he would see them tomorrow and told Lamby to stay hidden in the stables and there was something of the final farewell in his words. Trey knew it and the gearing demon inside certainly knew it. He looked at Kay and wished for a hundred ways to say what he knew he could not.
Trey left the room with the light pointing the way back to level ground. He unlocked the door and went quick through the storm to his bunkhouse. He sat out the night with the rain running inside and out and what was boy lay dormant and what was demon rocked to the rhythm and the rhythm was the beat of retribution’s drum.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When morning came paranoia was a thing that crept about camp and with the new rising floods everywhere was quick in the swim of gossip. What was wasn’t and what wasn’t was and Trey had to keep his head out of the mire just enough to make sense of the situation as the siren demanded they head to the clearing after breakfast.
Trey stood in the yard in anticipation of news same as everyone else and he turned his ears from the talk so his eyes could take in everything.
The Preacher was coming and at the back of his throat Trey said it over until his nerves took hold and the universe and everything in it became something other, parallel. Trey knew once he crossed those tracks there would be no fissure or wormhole through which to climb and hide; the thing he knew he was about to do he would not return from.
He coughed and spat dry retch into the rising wet and watched it circle the other kids’ boots and trouser cuffs and float from sight and he knew from the standstill silence about him that the Preacher had arrived. Trey looked up and he pushed forward to where a gap allowed him to see the face that he had etched in memory.
The Light That Gets Lost (Shakespeare Today) Page 10