you?’
‘With you, Col. I’m always with you.’
‘Where? Why can’t I see you?’
‘Ah.’
‘I must see you.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re my pearl.’
‘Yes, I’m your pearl.’
‘My pearl to a white pea.’
‘That’s a funny thing to say.’
‘But you are. Let me across.’
‘Colin. Meg here. Look round. Look at me. Look now. I’m telling you. Now.’
‘She’s hurting, Col. She’s hurting me. It hurts. Don’t let her. It hurts. Don’t look. It hurts. Col. The others. They’re coming.’
His head was blistered in noise, swamped by calling, around him, in him. He fell into the sound of cranes.
Colin hit the asphalt at the bottom of the steps and lay. He looked back. Meg was at the other dish, turned towards him. She came down and stood over him.
‘You’re only winded.’
He grabbed for air.
‘Now what was all that about?’ said Meg.
‘I’ve found her. She spoke.’
‘I bet she did. Let’s check, then. Sailor’s grip.’ Meg gave a lift to Colin and he pulled himself up to sit on a step. Meg sat by him, holding a recorder. She pressed the playback.
‘What are you going to do with the dishes you’re making? Play around with them. Listen. Listen to what? Whatever the dishes may reflect. Whatever? Yes. That’s the way to do it. It’s not funny, Meg. What isn’t? Stop it. Stop what? Is it you? Is it? Please. Stay. The years. The searching. Colin. This is Meg. Are you all right? Go away, Meg. What? Remember what? No. Where are you? Where? Why can’t I see you? I must see you. You’re my pearl. My pearl to a white pea. But you are. Let me across. Colin. Meg here. Look round. Look at me. Look now. I’m telling you. Now.’
‘That’s all.’ Meg switched off.
Colin put his hand out and she took it.
‘Oh, my God.’
Meg was silent.
‘My God.’
His grip crushed, but she did not flinch.
‘I am mad. I am mad. Aren’t I?’
‘You are not mad,’ she said. ‘Yet.’
‘I heard her.’
‘Of course you heard her. What did she say?’
‘She’s with me. Always. Always will be. She doesn’t like you. Says you’ve come to get me. She’ll stop you. What am I going to do?’
‘Don’t panic. You’ll live. But you’re not fit to be on a bike. Sit quiet. We’ll see you home.’
He held Meg’s hand; she looked at the telescope. It tracked the quasar, and the wind played.
‘Come up, love.’
He walked with her; he still held; out past the car park. There was a car waiting.
‘Now then, our Colin,’ said Bert. ‘Are you all right? Let’s be having you.’
Then he came to the age where he could not run. Pain sat in his knee, so that he stumbled, and in his arm, so that his spear did not hit. Pain sat in his back, so that he could not lift the kill and fetch it home, nor bring wood from far, so that his fire was small. He preyed upon the weak and gained no strength. He took the deer big-bellied, ripped out the fawn, leaving the hind to crows. Wolf and raven followed him. He took the farrow and fled the sow; until there was only fox to hunt. He ate nothing that drew its spirit from the cave, and his own spirit dwindled unfed. He set traps for hare.
He knew how this had been before, and the old man had fetched meat that had no song. But the old man had taught him to hunt and kill, so that he came to know the way of the beasts, and after he had taken the old man to the nooks of the dead he had stayed. The old man had taught him to free the spirits from the rock, to dance and sing and dream. Now there was no one to be taught. And no woman came.
‘I found my love in the month of June.
Risselty-rosselty, now, now, now.
I carried her home in a silver spoon.
Risselty-rosselty, hey bombossity,
Knickerty-knackerty,
Now, now, now.’
At the quarry, Colin adjusted his dishes on their mountings.
‘I lost my love in the dark of the moon.
Risselty-rosselty, now, now, now.
If she came back it would not be soon.
Risselty-rosselty, hey
‘With you, Col. I’m always with you.’
‘Where? Why can’t I see you?’
‘Ah.’
‘I must see you.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re my pearl.’
‘Yes, I’m your pearl.’
‘My pearl to a white pea.’
‘That’s a funny thing to say.’
‘But you are. Let me across.’
‘Colin. Meg here. Look round. Look at me. Look now. I’m telling you. Now.’
‘She’s hurting, Col. She’s hurting me. It hurts. Don’t let her. It hurts. Don’t look. It hurts. Col. The others. They’re coming.’
His head was blistered in noise, swamped by calling, around him, in him. He fell into the sound of cranes.
Colin hit the asphalt at the bottom of the steps and lay. He looked back. Meg was at the other dish, turned towards him. She came down and stood over him.
‘You’re only winded.’
He grabbed for air.
‘Now what was all that about?’ said Meg.
‘I’ve found her. She spoke.’
‘I bet she did. Let’s check, then. Sailor’s grip.’ Meg gave a lift to Colin and he pulled himself up to sit on a step. Meg sat by him, holding a recorder. She pressed the playback.
‘What are you going to do with the dishes you’re making? Play around with them. Listen. Listen to what? Whatever the dishes may reflect. Whatever? Yes. That’s the way to do it. It’s not funny, Meg. What isn’t? Stop it. Stop what? Is it you? Is it? Please. Stay. The years. The searching. Colin. This is Meg. Are you all right? Go away, Meg. What? Remember what? No. Where are you? Where? Why can’t I see you? I must see you. You’re my pearl. My pearl to a white pea. But you are. Let me across. Colin. Meg here. Look round. Look at me. Look now. I’m telling you. Now.’
‘That’s all.’ Meg switched off.
Colin put his hand out and she took it.
‘Oh, my God.’
Meg was silent.
‘My God.’
His grip crushed, but she did not flinch.
‘I am mad. I am mad. Aren’t I?’
‘You are not mad,’ she said. ‘Yet.’
‘I heard her.’
‘Of course you heard her. What did she say?’
‘She’s with me. Always. Always will be. She doesn’t like you. Says you’ve come to get me. She’ll stop you. What am I going to do?’
‘Don’t panic. You’ll live. But you’re not fit to be on a bike. Sit quiet. We’ll see you home.’
He held Meg’s hand; she looked at the telescope. It tracked the quasar, and the wind played.
‘Come up, love.’
He walked with her; he still held; out past the car park. There was a car waiting.
‘Now then, our Colin,’ said Bert. ‘Are you all right? Let’s be having you.’
Then he came to the age where he could not run. Pain sat in his knee, so that he stumbled, and in his arm, so that his spear did not hit. Pain sat in his back, so that he could not lift the kill and fetch it home, nor bring wood from far, so that his fire was small. He preyed upon the weak and gained no strength. He took the deer big-bellied, ripped out the fawn, leaving the hind to crows. Wolf and raven followed him. He took the farrow and fled the sow; until there was only fox to hunt. He ate nothing that drew its spirit from the cave, and his own spirit dwindled unfed. He set traps for hare.
He knew how this had been before, and the old man had fetched meat that had no song. But the old man had taught him to hunt and kill, so that he came to know the way of the beasts, and after he had taken the old man to the nooks of the dead he had stayed. The old man had taught him to free the spirits from the rock, to dance and sing and dream. Now there was no one to be taught. And no woman came.
‘I found my love in the month of June.
Risselty-rosselty, now, now, now.
I carried her home in a silver spoon.
Risselty-rosselty, hey bombossity,
Knickerty-knackerty,
Now, now, now.’
At the quarry, Colin adjusted his dishes on their mountings.
‘I lost my love in the dark of the moon.
Risselty-rosselty, now, now, now.
If she came back it would not be soon.
Risselty-rosselty, hey
Similar Books
