Read Online Now I Know by Aidan Chambers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Aidan Chambers
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happened Iâd never felt before. A Doer made me so angry I did something about it. Without thinking. That split-second. Even as his body hit hers. It was a violation against me as much as against her. Just because there was something . . . I donât know . . . different . . . intense . . . separate about her. Something I wanted. Wanted to . . . know I suppose is the word.
Right now, just an hour after leaving her, I donât understand.
But anyway, I piled in.
Geronimo!
JULIE [ Singing ]:Â Â Â Mud, mud, glorious mud,
Thereâs nothing quite like it
for cooling the blood.
[ She laughs. ]
Mum has an old record of that. I think itâs called âThe Hippopotamus Songâ. When I was little I used to play it over and over and end up hysterical.
When I hit the mud and felt the mess on my face and hands and the stickiness squeezing through my clothes that song flashed into my head. Theyâd frightened me when they started running through us, yelling and thrashing about. But the mud and the hippo song cooled my blood and I thought, âLet them come after me again and itâll be the hippo song for them this time.â
Well, you know what happened then! [ Laughs .] If my face hadnât been covered in mud so that I couldnât see, I would have known at once whose side you were on, because they were all in leathers and you were in your usual sloppy outfit. But I couldnât see and you were yelling, âGet up! Come on, get up!â One thing I canât stand is people yelling at me. It infuriates me. I was trying to get up anyway. But you grabbed my arms and pulled at me, and that angered me even more because I donât like people grabbing me either, so I struggled. And what with you pulling and me tugging to get loose we both went off balance and then I slipped in the mud and we both went flopping down, me onto my face again and you onto your bum.
[ She laughs so much she starts coughing, and breathing heavily, and has to pause to recover. ]
âExcrement!â you said, using the crude word.
âDonât you swear at me, you barbarian!â I said, or spluttered rather, because I got a mouth full of mud, and that made me furious with myself as well as with you, which, of course, only made things worse.
And I know what youâre thinking right this minute, Nicholas Frome, as you listen. Youâre thinking how prudish I still am about ruderies, despite all your efforts to corrupt me. But I donât care. I donât like them, and thatâs that. I donât see any need for them. In fact, I think theyâre a kind of violence. You say rude words are just explosions that relieve tension. Well, Iâve some experience with explosions remember. And I donât think any kind of explosion is meaningless, or is just a relief of tension, not even if they are only explosions of words.
Words canât ever be just explosions anyway. Theyâre always words. They all mean something. They all affect people somehow. The people who use them and the people who hear them. And I donât just mean their dictionary meanings.
Saying that makes me think words are like people. They have bodies. You can see them, and you can like the look of them or not, just as I like the look of Nik. Itâs as interesting back to front as it is front to back. Kin as well as Nik. And the two tall letters protect the little eye. Like a spine. You. Always there. The core. The DNA of Nik. And you, the eye, the ee-why-ee. Watching. A lovely, neat, playful word. And just like you!
And words have intellects as well as bodies. Their dictionary meanings, and their meanings when theyâre put into sentences. Like these sentences Iâm saying to you now. They make some sort of sense, I hope!
And words have emotions just like people do. The things they make you feel when you hear them or read them. Like the words in the sentence
Right now, just an hour after leaving her, I donât understand.
But anyway, I piled in.
Geronimo!
JULIE [ Singing ]:Â Â Â Mud, mud, glorious mud,
Thereâs nothing quite like it
for cooling the blood.
[ She laughs. ]
Mum has an old record of that. I think itâs called âThe Hippopotamus Songâ. When I was little I used to play it over and over and end up hysterical.
When I hit the mud and felt the mess on my face and hands and the stickiness squeezing through my clothes that song flashed into my head. Theyâd frightened me when they started running through us, yelling and thrashing about. But the mud and the hippo song cooled my blood and I thought, âLet them come after me again and itâll be the hippo song for them this time.â
Well, you know what happened then! [ Laughs .] If my face hadnât been covered in mud so that I couldnât see, I would have known at once whose side you were on, because they were all in leathers and you were in your usual sloppy outfit. But I couldnât see and you were yelling, âGet up! Come on, get up!â One thing I canât stand is people yelling at me. It infuriates me. I was trying to get up anyway. But you grabbed my arms and pulled at me, and that angered me even more because I donât like people grabbing me either, so I struggled. And what with you pulling and me tugging to get loose we both went off balance and then I slipped in the mud and we both went flopping down, me onto my face again and you onto your bum.
[ She laughs so much she starts coughing, and breathing heavily, and has to pause to recover. ]
âExcrement!â you said, using the crude word.
âDonât you swear at me, you barbarian!â I said, or spluttered rather, because I got a mouth full of mud, and that made me furious with myself as well as with you, which, of course, only made things worse.
And I know what youâre thinking right this minute, Nicholas Frome, as you listen. Youâre thinking how prudish I still am about ruderies, despite all your efforts to corrupt me. But I donât care. I donât like them, and thatâs that. I donât see any need for them. In fact, I think theyâre a kind of violence. You say rude words are just explosions that relieve tension. Well, Iâve some experience with explosions remember. And I donât think any kind of explosion is meaningless, or is just a relief of tension, not even if they are only explosions of words.
Words canât ever be just explosions anyway. Theyâre always words. They all mean something. They all affect people somehow. The people who use them and the people who hear them. And I donât just mean their dictionary meanings.
Saying that makes me think words are like people. They have bodies. You can see them, and you can like the look of them or not, just as I like the look of Nik. Itâs as interesting back to front as it is front to back. Kin as well as Nik. And the two tall letters protect the little eye. Like a spine. You. Always there. The core. The DNA of Nik. And you, the eye, the ee-why-ee. Watching. A lovely, neat, playful word. And just like you!
And words have intellects as well as bodies. Their dictionary meanings, and their meanings when theyâre put into sentences. Like these sentences Iâm saying to you now. They make some sort of sense, I hope!
And words have emotions just like people do. The things they make you feel when you hear them or read them. Like the words in the sentence
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