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<h1>22</h1>
<p><em>August 2. 4pm:</em></p>
<p>Billy raised the air pistol from seven yards away, sighted down
the barrel. He squeezed the trigger and the gun coughed a sound
like a thin branch breaking. The slug smacked Doug in the left
buttock and he let out a howl, more of surprise than pain.</p>
<p>"Great shot from dead-eye Harrison" Billy bragged. "Runs in the
family." They'd been firing at the can again, trying to knock it
off the rock, taking shots each while the potatoes and carrots
boiled in the blackened pot. Billy and Doug had been niggling each
other as usual and when the can tumbled from the stone, moved by a
chance eddy of wind and not by any sharp shooting, Doug bent to
re-set it. Billy aimed and fired at his skinny buttocks then
laughed like a donkey while Doug did a skittery little dance.</p>
<p>"Christ sake," Doug said angrily. "Would you get a grip of
yourself, you crazy fucker." He was rubbing the patched seat of his
old jeans. "Swear to god, you should be in special school for
<em>retardos</em>, you loony."</p>
<p>"First kill to the Commandos," Billy crowed. Corky looked at him
sideways. Billy was jumping up and down, the airgun heavy, black
and sharp-edged like a German Luger clenched in his hand. Even with
the spring slack and useless, he should never have fired the gun at
anybody, they all knew that. It was one of the rules.</p>
<p>"That's enough," Corky said. "Give me that before you put
somebody's eye out." He held out his hand towards Billy.</p>
<p>"It's not yours."</p>
<p>"No, it's my brother's, and that makes it mine for now."</p>
<p>"And he stole it from somebody, didn't he?" Billy's voice was
rising. "So it's not his."</p>
<p>Doug picked up a stone and lobbed it at Billy with a quick
overarm flick. It hit him on the knee with a resounding crack.
Billy dropped the gun and started hopping around on one foot,
holding his knee with both hands and howling loudly. Corky snatched
the pistol up from the ground and jammed the barrel into his
pocket.</p>
<p>"Serves you right, fatso" Doug jeered. "That's the brave
commando wounded. <em>Hopping</em> wounded, and crying like a
baby."</p>
<p>"I'll get you for that," Billy bellowed, trying gingerly to put
his foot down.</p>
<p>"You and your old man, eh? The big <em>war</em> hero?"</p>
<p>"You leave him out of it <em>Bugsylugs</em>." Billy said through
clenched teeth and the pair of them were off again. "He did more
than your old man, that's for sure. Fought the Japs <em>and</em>
Jerries."</p>
<p>"So how come mine's got medals?" Doug demanded, grinning
toothily. "Real medals." His ears had gone bright red again which
was a sure indicator of his excitement and anger.</p>
<p>"My Dad won dozens of them," Billy retorted, still rubbing his
knee, his face now as red as Doug's ears. "That's what my Mam says
and you better not be calling her a liar if you know what's good
for you. My Dad was a hero in the war."</p>
<p>"That's where you're wrong," Doug countered, his lip curling now
into a sneer. "A hundred percent dead wrong on that."</p>
<p>Danny came wandering up from the stream, only half listening to
the bickering voices. Doug and Billy were always at it, rubbing
each other's fur up the wrong way. Next minute they'd usually have
their arms round each other's shoulders, just like last time,
digging each other in the ribs. They both had short fuses, but
generally, as compensation they had even shorter spans of
concentration.</p>
<p>"What are they on about now?" he asked innocently.</p>
<p>"Just telling this fat bastard his old man couldn't have died in
the war," Doug snorted.</p>
<p>Everybody froze.</p>
<p>"Come on, Doug...." Corky broke in. His voice trailed away.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" Billy finally asked. His voice had gone
cold.</p>
<p>"Think about it, stupid-features. Can't you count?"</p>
<p>" 'course I can count. And multiply and subtract. Better than
you any day of the week, <em>Bugs.</em>"</p>
<p>"That should make it easy for you, then." Doug's face was red
and his lips drawn back from his big rabbit teeth in an angry
snarl. Danny had never seen him look so much out of control and
suddenly he knew with absolute certainty that Doug was going to let
it slip; say what everybody except Billy himself knew as a
fact.</p>
<p>"Okay. Try this one," Doug's voice was all tight and grating.
"See if you can do it in that thick skull of yours. Mental
arithmetic, if you <em>can</em> that is." Doug stopped. Corky took
a step forward, trying to get in between them. Both Billy and Doug
each held up a forestalling hand, telling him to keep out of it,
that this was between the two of them, something they could sort
out without interference. Corky looked at Danny, eyebrows raised in
question, but there was nothing Danny could say. Everybody teetered
on the sharp edge of the moment.</p>
<p>"When were you born," Doug demanded. "What year?"</p>
<p>"Nineteen fifty two. Same as you, why? You forget?"</p>
<p>"And when did the war end?" Doug kept it going.</p>
<p>"Nineteen forty five. Everybody knows that."</p>
<p>"And your old man died in the war! Seven years before you were
born? Has nobody told you the facts of life?"</p>
<p>"Stone the crows," Corky whispered, shaking his head.</p>
<p>Billy stood there, fists clenched, lips just forming around his
reply. His mouth tried to work, but no sound came out. Danny and
Corky held their breath. Doug stood stock still, eyes wide, hands
trembling. They could see Billy's mind, not especially fast at the
best of times, but he wasn't stupid either, seizing the problem and
working it over.</p>
<p>The silence stretched a few seconds longer. Finally Billy
spoke.</p>
<p>"That doesn't mean..." he floundered to a stop, tried again.
"Just because he...." The three of them on the sidelines could see
that Billy had never really considered this glaring anomaly, or if
he had, he had slung it to the back of his mind. Everybody in
Corrieside knew that Maggie Harrison had got pregnant to a big
American sailor from the NATO Base at Dunoon, from whom Billy had
inherited his thick blue-black hair and his height. The Yank had
finished his tour of duty and gone back to Arkansas and never
written once.</p>
<p>Billy backed away from them and almost knocked Tom over.</p>
<p>"That's pure <em>shite</em>. It's all a load of crap." Real
distress twisted his face. "I mean he was in the Commandos..." His
voice sounded as if it was cracking. "And he fought the Japs and
all."</p>
<p>Doug stood facing him, anger still suffusing his face. "Did he
hell."</p>
<p>"That's enough Doug," Corky said quietly. "Quit it
<em>now.</em>"</p>
<p>"Well he shouldn't have called me that. He's always going on and
on and he shouldn't have shot me either. It's about time he wizened
up. Somebody should wring his bloody neck. He's always bumming and
bragging as if he's better than the rest of us. He thinks he's a
big shot."</p>
<p>"Bigger than you are, you ragged bag of bones. And better."
Billy was obviously still trying to digest the enormous truth of
it, but his temper was still up and fighting. "At least my mother
feeds me. Not like yours."</p>
<p>"Stop them Corky," Danny said, almost pleading. "This isn't any
good." He could see it coming, rushing towards them like the great
truth express, nobody at the brake. There were no real secrets in
the street in Corrieside where they all lived.</p>
<p>"And at least my mother buys me decent clothes," Billy snarled.
"Not rags like you get to wear all the time. You're like a tinker.
She dresses me proper."</p>
<p>"From the money your <em>uncles</em> give her? Some uncles.
Uncles my <em>arse!</em>"</p>
<p>"Jeez Doug, quit it." Danny begged in a futile attempt to
prevent the head-on crash.</p>
<p>"Don't you start on my mother, Doug Nicol. Don't you bloody
dare." Billy took two steps forward and raised his fist. Doug
flinched back. The anger and fear was evident in his eyes and in
the tightness of his voice and the taught hunch of his
shoulders.</p>
<p>"Well it's true," he insisted. "You've got more uncles than I've
had hot dinners."</p>
<p>"And what about your mother? Eh? Tell me that?"</p>
<p>Danny put his head in his hands. Corky stood transfixed. He held
both of his hands up, like a referee in a boxing ring trying to
keep the protagonists apart. But they were like fighting cocks now,
angry roosters. They didn't even seem to notice his presence.</p>
<p>"Why is your old man in Toronto? And how come your wee brother's
got ginger hair and freckles? Everybody else knows why."</p>
<p>"What are you trying to say?"</p>
<p>"Because he isn't your brother at all. Everybody knows about
your Mam and that tallyman from the Housemarket Company, the one
that used to come round for the money on a Friday. That's why your
Da's gone to Canada. He's too ashamed to show his face in the
town."</p>
<p>Billy's words hit like blows, worse than blows. Doug reeled
back. The others could see his mind working the way Billy's had
done. His big teeth were clenched together hard enough to crack. A
spittle dribbled from his lip.</p>
<p>"That's not true," he finally gabbled, spitting the words out
like bullets. "You're a fuckin' liar. You're just a big fuckin'
<em>bastard.</em></p>
<p>But they could all see the dawning realisation on his face. The
signs that he'd missed. His father's withdrawn silence, the raised
voices in the living room late at night. The sounds of crying in
the dark. And little Terry, red-haired and freckled, a dozen years
his junior.</p>
<p>His mouth opened and closed, much as Billy's had done.</p>
<p>Corky moved right between them.</p>
<p>"That's enough," he said flatly.</p>
<p>"Piss off, Corcoran," Billy snarled. He tried to shove past him.
"I'm not finished with that <em>bugsy</em> bastard."</p>
<p>"Yes you are " Corky told him in a soft voice that had suddenly
gone very cold. He was a head shorter than Billy, but he stood with
his feet planted apart and his back straight, body all set. Danny
could sense that Corky knew he should have stepped in before, but
hadn't known how. The moment had gone too quickly. Now Corky looked
Billy straight in the eye, his own green-brown eyes bright and
unblinking.</p>
<p>"It's finished." Danny could sense the quiet threat there. Billy
was too far gone to hear it. He pushed at Corky's shoulder and the
other boy simply held himself tight, not letting himself be moved.
Doug's skinny chest was heaving with anger.</p>
<p>"It's over," Corky said. "I mean it." He took a hold of Billy's
hand and dragged it down from his shoulder. He stared into the
bigger boy's eyes for a long moment, forcing him to back down.
Corky had that ability. He held the gaze until Billy dropped his
and for a while before Billy conceded Danny thought he might even
try to have a go at Corky. Finally he took a step backwards and
Corky then turned to Doug.</p>
<p>"What are we trying to do? Kill ourselves? Haven't we all got
enough problems?"</p>
<hr />
<p>The man watched them coming back to the camp. The boys stopped
up on the narrow gully side where a rivulet had cut the ground into
a deep and narrow chasm. They were out of sight round a dog-leg
bend, but he could hear them yelling gleefully, the way they had
when they had swum in the backed-up pool. Every now and again, one
of them would yell <em>bombs away</em> and the rest of them would
whoop and cheer. He could hear the heavy thuds of something falling
on to the shale. After a while, they came on down the shoulder of
the hill where the two streams met, carefully negotiating the
narrow rocky point to descend into the valley. The biggest boy was
in the lead, holding his long stick over his head. The bones of the
ram's skull were stark white against the grey of the rock. He sat
quietly, stock still, in the shadow of the hollow where the setting
sun could not pick him out. One of the boys stopped dead and looked
across the valley, seeming to look right into his eyes. He held the
pose for ten seconds, maybe more, raised his hand over his brow to
cut out the light. The man leaned further back into the shadows.
The boy shook his head and continued down the ridge.</p>
<p>They arrived at the tent and the dark haired boy clambered into
the natural amphitheatre below the steep face and spent several
minutes fixing the sheep's skull into the hawthorn branches beside
the deer's head and the pointed heron's beak. This done, he did a
little Indian dance, and his whooping shouts echoed from the valley
sides. The man watched, interest quickened. The flies erupted from
the stag's face in a visible cloud, disturbed by the death
dance.</p>
<p>The others lit the fire and the thin one balanced the blackened
pot on the stones surrounding the flames. The sky was clear except
for some long, pink clouds way out to the west, far beyond
Blackwood Farm. The moon would be full tonight, pale and yawning.
He watched them for a while more until he was satisfied that they
would be here for the night and then, very slowly, he eased back
into the bracken and silently followed the sheep track back up the
hill.</p>
<p>At Blackwood Farm he ate some more of the dry meat and finished
the hard bread. There were some jars in the pantry with fruit in
syrup and there were eggs in the coop. He ate them in silence,
listening to the buzzing of the flies as they whirled around the
woman. The smell was thick and choking, but he was used to that. He
had <em>got</em> used to that. When he finished eating, he went out
to the manure heap and talked to the head. It buzzed back at him
incomprehensibly. After a while, the moon rose and Conboy whispered
to him from a velvet sky.</p>
<hr />
<p>It had been a magical day right up until the fight and then the
magic had snuffed right out.</p>
<p>They had borne the bombs back to the camp on the plank litter,
carrying three of them, taking turns as pall-bearers and Billy
trying to avoid his share of the work by claiming to be standard
bearer. It took them two hours to get back, though the going,
downstream when they got past the smelly and stagnant bog, was much
easier than the trip up to the Dummy Village. They had been elated
and excited with their find, their own discovery of the fabled
place. The fact that it was dilapidated and derelict had done
nothing to diminish their sense of discovery and achievement, or
detract from its fabled status. On the way back to the camp, they
had agreed to start out as early as they could the next morning so
they could explore the whole of it, right to the far end of the
blasted moorland. Tom had said he'd rather go home, but again he
was outvoted and he went along with it. It was a long walk back
home and he didn't want to travel over the hill and down the other
valley on his own, and besides, if he arrived without them, his
mother would know he hadn't been with the scouts and he'd have hell
to pay. Tom's mother was living on the edge of her own grief. She
could not use any more. Apart from that consideration for his
mother, and it was a real one in Tom's mind, the trees were thick
and crowded and anybody could get lost on their own if they didn't
know the place so well.</p>
<p>They followed the lip of the valley where sheep had worn a
beaten track through the turf, staying up on the far side until
they came level with the camp on the ridge which separated the
stream from the tributary. Doug and Corky let down the plank with
the three bombs and rubbed the stiffness out of their hands. Billy
stuck his stave in the turf, letting the ram's skull gaze out over
the gully.</p>
<p>"Let's try them now," he said.</p>
<p>"They won't work," Doug said. "If they'd have worked, they'd
have gone off when they fell."</p>
<p>"You don't know that," Billy countered. "We could at least try
one, and if it works, we could sell the others for a fortune."</p>
<p>"Who'd buy bombs?" Danny asked.</p>
<p>"The army, for one," Billy avowed. "Their bomb disposal squad
take them away and defuses them. And gangsters. They could use them
to blow up bank safes."</p>
<p>Doug laughed derisively at the notion, but Billy ignored him. He
bent down and unwound the rusty wire which had strapped the nearest
bomb to the plank. He worked at it, twisting the thin metal back
and forth until it weakened and broke. The bomb slid free and began
to roll down into the chasm. Billy lunged and stopped it with his
foot. He grabbed the tail fin and hauled it back up, managed to
lift it from the ground and raised it above his head. For a moment
he looked as if he was making an offering to an unseen god on
high.</p>
<p>"What if it does go off?" Danny asked.</p>
<p>"It'll go bang," Doug said. Danny looked at him. There was a
moment's silence while Billy still stood with the bomb held over
his head and then everybody just fell about laughing.</p>
<p>"Of course it'll go bang," Danny said when he got his breath
back. Billy was trying to keep the heavy weight up, but the
laughter had taken all the strength from his arms. He was giggling
uncontrollably.</p>
<p>"But won't it be dangerous?"</p>
<p>They had all seen bombs explode in films. They went off like
enormous firecrackers. People threw their hands up and somersaulted
into the air. There was always a flash and a lot of dust thrown up
in a black cloud. In Billy's Commando comics, the bombed Nazis
cried <em>Himmel</em> and <em>Donner Und Blitzen</em>. They put
their hands up in the air and were marched off as prisoners of
war.</p>
<p>"No," Doug assured him. "It'll be great."</p>
<p>"I think we should move back a bit."</p>
<p>"What for?"</p>
<p>By now Billy's arms were sagging. He tried to hold the weight,
but failed. The bomb tumbled out. Doug tried to grab it but only
succeeded pushing it to the left. It thudded against Billy's thigh.
Billy howled like a banshee. The bomb tumbled, hit the ground right
at the edge of the ridge, landing tail first. For a second it
seemed to balance on its own, like a miniature space rocket,
teetering on the edge, and then it slipped over. Billy was still
bawling and cursing Doug who was trying to explain that it was an
accident. The others watched the bomb roll down the steep few feet
of shale where the edge had eroded away. Below that there was a
ledge of mudstone which stuck out two or three feet and overhung
the much steeper drop to the trickling rivulet meandering through
tumble of water-smoothed boulders below. It skidded down the shale,
rolled on the ledge and paused again as if considering the next
move.</p>
<p>"I'll get you for that," Billy was promising Doug.</p>
<p>"It's going," Corky said, voice rising.</p>
<p>"I think we better get back up," Tom advised, now apprehensive.
The bomb flipped over and then it dropped. Billy caught the motion
out of the corner of his eye and his cursing stopped. Everybody
turned to watch. The black shape fell. It rolled several feet and
then seemed to flip up and out. The tail fins wobbled and then the
thing plummeted straight down.</p>
<p>"I'm getting out of here," Tom yelled. He turned and headed up
the slope of the ridge, but his eyes were still glued to the bomb.
His heels treaded at the slope, digging the shale away in small
grooves, going nowhere.</p>
<p>Nobody else moved or said a word. They watched as the bomb went
plummeting. Its fall took only a few seconds and for an instant,
from up on the edge, it looked as if it would slam straight onto
the rocks below. It missed by a good twenty feet and thumped onto
the soft gravel with an almost silent thud. A cloud of dry dust and
sand spewed up, leaving a small, shallow crater from which the
bomb's tail stuck up straight in the centre.</p>
<p>"Damn and blast," Doug said.</p>
<p>"Damn and no blast," Billy corrected. "It didn't even go off.
Must be a dud."</p>
<p>Tom breathed out slowly, relief written all over his thin,
freckled face.</p>
<hr />
<p>"There's somebody here," Danny said later when they were heating
the can of soup on the fire. "I'm sure of it. I thought I saw
somebody in the bushes from up on the side when we were coming back
from the village."</p>
<p>"Me too," Tom agreed. "Honest. When we were collecting
wood."</p>
<p>"That's just your imagination," Billy said dismissively. His
face was still tight with emotion.</p>
<p>"What if it's a guard?" Doug said. "Somebody from the Dummy
Village. Maybe he saw us taking the bombs. We could get into big
trouble."</p>
<p>"If there had been a guard he'd have kicked our arses and chased
us," Corky said. "But there was nobody up there, unless there was a
tinker sleeping rough. Can't see anybody staying up here, though,
can you?"</p>
<p>"I still think there's somebody here," Danny said. "It gives me
the creeps."</p>
<p>They had all calmed down to an uneasy truce after Billy and
Doug's dreadful confrontation. That had been hours ago and still
neither of them would look each other in the eye. The whole
campsite was tense with the undercurrent of conflict. It had not
gone away. It pulled and tugged at them with its own gravity. Billy
and Doug needed to get away from each other, to get away from
everybody. They had momentous things to consider. But it had been
too late. Corky had used the force of his personality to cap it
all, but it had been too late. The sizzling, almost palpable
tension sparked from one to another.</p>
<p>They were all round the fire and Tom had stoked it up with pine
logs so that it burned bright enough to force them all to sit on
one side. Corky had used a long stick to get the soup on to the
heat and then he'd poured it out onto the tin plates. The bread was
hard and stale, but dipped in the thick broth, it tasted just fine.
Even Billy ate hungrily. Doug stayed at the far side, looking down
into his plate and eating steadily.</p>
<p>"We can explode them tomorrow," Danny ventured, trying to do
something to remove the pressure. If they could get back to where
they'd been in the morning, that would do fine with him. Nothing
was perfect. Billy was changing and Danny did not know that this
was a normal thing. Billy had hair on his balls and the beginning
of bum-fluff turning dark on his top lip and he was becoming
increasingly aggressive. He'd grown a head or more taller than
everybody except Doug who had always been lanky and thin, and he
was pretty powerful now, even if much of it was spare baggage.
Danny did not know how long it would be before Billy put out a real
challenge to Corky. He hoped that would not happen, though if Corky
was aware of it, he didn't show it and seemed not to be concerned.
It wasn't as if he'd put up a case for being the natural leader.
That was just the way of it. He had nothing to prove.</p>
<p>"Yeah, we could maybe rig up a catapult up there on one of the
trees, just like the Vikings," Tom came in, speaking fast, as if he
too had the same notion.</p>
<p>"That was the Romans. The Vikings used a battering ram."</p>
<p>"Was that Kirk Douglas?"</p>
<p>"Who cares," Doug said from the edge. His head was still down.
Above them, the moon was just peering over the top of the hill, as
close to full as possible. It reflected on the burbling stream and
gave everything a magical limning that only Danny and Corky
noticed. The rest of them were wrapped up in their own thoughts.
"Who gives a damn? Eh? It was just a film. Just make up."</p>
<p>"It was a good movie," Tom said. "I liked it. Especially at the
end when him and Tony Curtis had the big fight."</p>
<p>"And remember them skipping along on the oars?" Danny came in.
"That was a hoot."</p>
<p>Doug sniffed and slung his plate down to the grass. "Want some
more?" Corky offered. Doug sniffed again and shook his head. Billy
sat on the other edge, half turned away. He was looking at the
ram's skull in the corner where the bush butted against the rock.
The moonlight and firelight combined to light it up, making it seem
to float ghostly in the dark, eye sockets staring out at them. The
flies were humming still.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't waste it on the likes of him," Billy said sneeringly
and Corky finally exploded.</p>
<p>"Bloody hell," he spat and even Danny jumped. "Look at the pair
of you, would you? Just a couple of bloody morons, a couple of
selfish, bloody <em>bastards</em>."</p>
<p>Tom and Danny looked at each other. Corky was tough as old
boots, but despite his background he hardly ever swore. When he
did, it was a real serious matter. Danny recalled him saying that
to get on, you had to speak with a gobstopper in your mouth. Corky
made an effort not to sound like his crazy brother Phil who would
end up in Drumbain Prison for sure, or like Paddy Corcoran who was
pretty guttural at the best of times. When Corky said
<em>bastard</em> he was up and running, firing on all four.</p>
<p>He suddenly jumped to his feet and slammed his plate down on the
stone at the edge of the fire. The thick soup gouted out and
sizzled on the hot rock with a vicious cat-hiss. Everybody jerked
back. Billy spun round, startled and Doug twisted in alarm.</p>
<p>"You keep your mouth shut, just for once," Corky said, his
finger right up against Billy's face. Billy's mouth snapped closed.
"<em>And you</em>," Corky rounded on Doug. His back was to the fire
and they could all see the red in his face, made ruddier by the
heat and the reflection of the flames.</p>
<p>"Don't you ever think?" he said, almost snarling, finger tapping
his temple for emphasis. Danny heard the catch in his voice.</p>
<p>"Don't any of you ever think? <em>Jees</em>." He reached out
both hands and held them up, palms open almost in supplication, and
exasperation too. Danny put his plate down on the grass. Right at
that moment, the air in the valley seemed suddenly even more
charged than before. Corky took two steps forward, away from the
fire, up onto the small grassy lip and walked out beyond them all
before he turned. The flames danced on his face.</p>
<p>When he started speaking, his voice could hardly be heard over
the cackle and hiss of the pinewood fire, but they never missed a
word.</p>
<p>"Look at us," he said and in that moment he sounded achingly
desolate. "Just look at us."</p>
<p>"You'd think it was tough enough, but no. Somebody's got to go
and rip it all up and tear it all, and spoil it."</p>
<p>"But I didn't..." Billy spluttered. Corky turned his eyes on
him, blazing in the red flamelight and Billy shut up. Doug thought
better of whatever he was about to interject.</p>
<p>"It's not just you. Or Doug neither." Corky said.
"<em>Listen!</em>. This is the first time we've been out for
months. Really out. The whole summer, we've been stuck in, while
they all shit themselves. Sometimes I think I'm going to get bored
crazy. The whole summer! So we come up here for some fun and find
the village and it should be great. But what happens? We start
ripping it apart.</p>
<p>He held his hands up again. "This is all we've got. It's the
only adventure some of us are going to get, <em>ever</em>."</p>
<p>He turned to Billy. "You think you've got it bad? Maybe. Tough.
Same as me and Danny and Doug and Tom. We're all screwed. All of
us. We've got damn all, we've got nothin'. If we all chipped
together we couldn't buy a packet of smokes and Billy's the only
one without a patch on the arse of his pants.</p>
<p>"We're jiggered."</p>
<p>They could hear the crack in his voice, ready to break. Corky's
chest hitched and the fire blazed in his eyes as if he was burning
up inside. He came walking slowly back towards the fire so they
were all turned to face him.</p>
<p>"We're all up the same creek, aren't we? So there's no need to
go picking each other off. That crazy shit's done enough of that
with Mole Hopkirk and Don Whalen and that wee kid. If we can't back
each other up, what the hell's the point?" He paused just enough
for a breath and ploughed on.</p>
<p>"So who's got it bad?" He turned quickly, swinging to face
Billy. "You Billy-O? Doug? Look at Tom. Shit, if I'd a wee sister
and she died, I'd be half crazy, that's for sure. I'd be pure
mental."</p>
<p>Tom flinched back as if stung. Corky had reached down into the
taboo, Tom's private thing, and touched it. It was as if he'd
scraped on raw flesh and Corky realised that immediately. He looked
over at Tom, and gave him a look of such compassion, such fierce
and honest sorrow, that Danny felt a dry lump swell hard his own
throat.</p>
<p>"Sorry Tommy, just trying to say, okay?"</p>
<p>Tom had no words, not then, Corky turned away. "I know he must
be all screwed up about it, really ripped open. So us, we got to
give him a hand, give him back-up, because he's our pal, isn't he?
Our mate. So we got to back him up. Us."</p>
<p>He stopped and then added for emphasis: "<em>All</em> of
us."</p>
<p>Billy nodded guiltily, remembering how he'd chased Tom across
the bog.</p>
<p>"And you Billy. So what? Your engine's all seized because your
old man wasn't a great hero, or whatever he was who the hell knows?
I'm sorry. We're all sorry, even Doug with his big mouth, he's
sorry too. Sure youb are Doug?"</p>
<p>Doug looked up, opened his big mouth then thought better of it.
He did look sorry. He looked wretched, blinking shiny eyes.</p>
<p>"You'll get over it. Believe me, fathers aren't all they're
cracked up to be. We know that, don't we Dan? Look at me. My old
man's up for swiping the pigeon club money. I've got to live with
that, and so's my Ma. You can have a Da like mine if you really
want. When he gets out he'll knock me arse for tit. You got
worries? Shite on a bike, we've <em>all</em> got worries! Every one
of us."</p>
<p>Corky was up now, going hell for leather, unable to pull back on
the reins.</p>
<p>"You want to be like Tom, or me? How about Danny-boy? Jesus, he
can't even open his mouth in his own house. Prayers all the
time."</p>
<p>Danny cringed, feeling the other faces on him. He was suddenly
exposed.</p>
<p>"You ever think about what that's like? Jesus <em>bloody-</em>H.
Every time Dan farts they've got the priest round to him, that
creep Father Fingers. Dan hardly ever gets out and when he's in,
his old man's got him doing schoolwork all the time non-stop."</p>
<p>Corky's voice was tight with the pressure now and there was no
stopping him. "We're all jiggered. Okay Doug, it's rough on you,
but wee Terry's still your brother you've got nothing to be ashamed
of. You'll be away in Toronto. At least you're getting to go
someplace new where nobody knows you or where you're from. And Tom
going to Australia. That's a chance. That's a real big chance."</p>
<p>He paused once more, and his voice went quiet, as if he was
suddenly scared it would catch and stumble and throw him; as if he
had come galloping along the edge to where it fell in a long sheer
drop and he had to pull back hard.</p>
<p>"We won't get that chance, me and Dan and Billy, so we got to
stay here and get on with it. But that's just it." His hands were
right out in front of him, balled into fists. He looked as if he
wanted to punch. "It's bad enough as it is without giving ourselves
a bad time. So why should we be fighting over what we can't
help?"</p>
<p>He paused and looked at them all, his eyes fixing each in
turn.</p>
<p>"But up here, we're away from it all, just for a couple of days.
It could be the last time. Probably is, and I don't want to
remember it because we all blew apart. That's going to happen
anyway, no matter what we do, so at least, just for now, we can
stick together. It's us against the flamin' world, know what I
mean? We're all in the shit."</p>
<p>He turned towards the fire, head down, shoulders shaking.</p>
<p>"After this summer, it's all going to break up. I want to
remember this time. We came up here for a last chance and we found
the Dummy Village and that's special. It's what I want to remember,
because we don't have enough good things to remember. None of
us."</p>
<p>He stopped talking and his shoulders slackened as if the tendons
had been cut. The four of them sat there in silence, looking at
Corky, stunned by the force of what he had said. He had touched
them all, right inside of them. He'd been aware of everything,
known all the dark secrets and until now he'd never said anything,
not a word.</p>
<p>Danny looked from Billy to Doug to Tom. They were all sitting
there on the short grass while the flames sent colour flickering on
their faces. All of them were looking at John Corcoran, if waiting
for him to say something else. None of them seemed capable of
speech.. He had stunned them all.</p>
<p>Corky's shoulders heaved and his head went down into his hands
and Danny felt a powerful ripple of shock. Corky was crying,
standing in front of them all and he was crying, and that was
something that had never happened before. He wanted to reach out
and touch him.</p>
<p>Yet it was Tom Tannahill who stood up and walked forward, closer
to the fire.</p>
<p>"Don't," he said. He reached up and put a hand on Corky's
shoulder. "Please Corky."</p>
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