Read Online Gazooka by Gwyn Thomas - Free Book Online

Gomer, thinking that any more talk that Humphries might construe as being morally double-jointed and we would be getting the boot. But Mr Humphries did not seem put out. Through his eyes I thought I could now see a film of comfortable steam above his thoughts. We said thank you and goodnight.
    â€˜Goodnight,’ said Humphries. ‘I’m surprised to find you men so helpful, such watchdogs in the cause of wholesomeness.’
    â€˜Just let us catch a whiff of anything that isn’t wholesome, Mr Humphries,’ said Milton Nicholas, ‘then watch us bark and bite.’
    We went straight from the house of Ephraim Humphries to that of Cynlais Coleman. Cynlais’ mother, a ravelled woman whose fabric, even without Cynlais, would not have stood up to too much wear and tear, took us instantly to Cynlais’ bedroom, glad to be sharing her problem. Cynlais was in bed, flattened under the load of his grief and a big family Bible, trying to re assemble the fragments of himself after the two disasters. We were puzzled by the Bible and were going to ask Mrs Coleman whether she had meant it just to keep Cynlais in bed and off his feet, but she explained that she had given it to him to read the Book of Job to help him keep his troubles in proportion, but Cynlais had kept flicking the pages and referring to Moira Hallam as Delilah, and saying that Job seemed to have come right out of one of the blacker Thursday night sessions at the Discussion Group in the Institute.
    At the sight of us Cynlais drew the Bible and the bed-clothes up to his face as if to hide.
    â€˜Hullo Cynlais,’ said Gomer. ‘Big news, boy. We’ve got the money for the new costumes. What fancies have you got on this subject, and for goodness’ sake keep inside Europe this time because we’re hoping to have enough to cover you all from top to bottom.’
    There was now nothing of Cynlais except his very small brow, and he had his hands clenched over the sides of the Bible as if he were thinking of throwing it at Gomer as a first step to clearing the bedroom. Uncle Edwin, at the foot of the bed, knocked solemnly on Cynlais’ tall foot as if it were a door.
    â€˜Come on, Cynlais,’ he said. ‘Buck up, boy, and stop looking so shattered. This isn’t the end of the world; it’s only the first crack.’
    Cynlais’ whole face came into view. It was grey, shrunken and lined. Uncle Edwin said that between Caney’s kidney-whipper and carnal wishes it was clear that Coleman had been through the mill.
    â€˜I keep thinking of what Moira told me,’ said Cynlais, with a look in his eye that made Milton Nicholas say that Caney should be held on charges of making a public mischief.
    â€˜What did she say?’ asked Gomer.
    â€˜She said, “Cynlais, has your heart ever been in the orange groves of Seville?”’
    We all tried to relate this statement to the carnivals and the news we had brought from Ephraim Humphries.
    â€˜You can’t possibly have a band of marching oranges,’ said Gomer. ‘Just drop this greengrocery motif, Cynlais. You can be too subtle in these matters. Look what happened to those Eskimos from the top of the valley. You remember their manoeuvre of shuddering at the end of every blast from the gazookas to show extreme cold and the need for blubber, no one ever understood it. They shuddered themselves right out of the carnival league.’
    â€˜I don’t mean oranges,’ said Cynlais. ‘I mean bullfighters, with me dressed up in the front as an even better bullfighter than Moelwyn Cox.’
    We had to move away from the bed at this point and explain in low voices to Milton Nicholas about Moelwyn Cox and his appearance with the Birchtown Amateur Operatic company as the matador Escamillo. Milton’s first impulse on hearing Cynlais make this reference to bullfighters was to think that Cynlais, between the weight of that Bible and the bushfires