The Knife That Killed Me (13 page)

I could see the end glowing.

And then he put the cigarette to his arm, the underside of his arm, and stroked it down from his elbow to the blue veins of his wrist. It was a gentle movement, tender, as if he was playing with a child or a cat or a girl. And then he lifted the cigarette to his mouth again and drew on it, and then quickly stubbed it down into his arm, not gentle now, not gentle at all. His body went tense for a moment, and then
softened, and he fell back onto the settee and let the cigarette roll down onto the carpet.

I backed out of the door and ran up the stairs. Stevie was gone, and I went out into the cold night, running, and then I put my hand on a low brick wall, and first retched, and then spewed and spewed and spewed.

On the way home I thought about chucking the knife in the beck. I took it out of its sheath. Looked at the blade glinting in the streetlights. Felt its lovely weight, its balance, its calmness. I thought about Shane hurting himself. I’ll put it away somewhere safe, I thought.

EIGHTEEN

The next
morning everyone was buzzing about it, how there was going to be a fight, how we were going to get our revenge. The Templars had trespassed on our territory, written stuff on our wall, showed us no respect. I didn’t hear any talk about the dog’s head, about how Roth had begun this. In fact I didn’t hear any sense at all. Some kids said that the fight was going to be up there. Some said down here. Everyone knew it was going to be dirty. The talk was that Roth was going to cut Goddo. There were even different versions of this, depending on who you spoke to. Some said
he was going to cut him open. Cut him so he wouldn’t be alive anymore. Some just said cut, like it was a lesson. I don’t know if any of this went back all the way to Roth, or if it was something people guessed was going to happen, based on Roth’s reputation.

At morning break I went and stood with the freaks. By now it was natural. It was what I did. Stevie was telling them about the wall and about the kid and about Shane, using my words. I didn’t mind. I was pleased, in fact. They were good words. Kirk was loud in his praises of Shane’s courage, and that was only right. Then he turned to me.

“And you were there?”

He sounded bright, friendly.

That should have been a warning.

“Yeah,” I said modestly, thinking that being there was a good thing, that I had the special status of a firsthand witness, a primary source.

“That was lucky, for Shane.”

I still wasn’t really thinking, and I said, “Yeah,” again, missing the first quick, sharp sting of sarcasm.

“Having you there to back him up.”

Then I began to get it.

“Having you on his side.”

Now I was staring Kirk in the eye.

“And you did
what
, exactly? Just so we can get it straight.”

“Hang on—” said Billy, the fat one.

“No, really, I’m intrigued,” said Kirk, over him. “So,
Paul, while Shane was rescuing this little kid, you were … what,
exactly
?”

“It wasn’t like that … it was—”

Then I saw Maddy. She was watching me. She looked pretty today. She still hadn’t got the freak thing right, but she’d hit on a nice look, for her. Her hair was tied back. And her neck … I don’t know. Something about her neck. I want to say it was like a swan, but that isn’t right. I only want to say it because that’s what you say about a neck when you think it might be beautiful. You say swanlike. But a human with a neck like a swan would be a monster. I think what I liked about Maddy’s neck was that the curve of it seemed made to have a cheek rest into it. And my mind was already there, resting into her neck, my skin on her skin.

“You didn’t help him?”

Maddy. A sting.

“Yes … no … there were kids everywhere … I couldn’t …”

“Without Paul they’d have kicked the shit out of me.”

Shane. Not there and then there. And his words bit, because he didn’t usually swear.

Kirk turned to him, his face uncertain, his eyes shifting, troubled, but reluctant to let this one go.

“That’s not what Stevie said. Stevie said he just stood there, like a dummy.”

I felt the freak crowd draw in its breath.

“I never said dummy.”

“That’s what you meant,” said Kirk, a little more sure of himself now. “That’s what it amounted to.”

“Stevie,” said Shane, “who told you about it? About what happened?”

Stevie looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. “Paul. I just repeated what he told me.”

“And when have you ever heard him boast about anything?” Shane began by looking at Stevie, but then shifted his gaze to Kirk, and then to the gang in general.

“He never talks about himself,” said Billy, grinning. “He’s a modest guy.”

“I’m telling you all now, without Paul watching my back, I’d have been in trouble.”

Maddy gave me a little smile. I could have kissed Shane. Or Maddy. Or both. It was like a dream. I was getting praised at the same time for being brave
and
for being modest.

Kirk didn’t want to leave things there, with him looking stupid and me looking good, so he changed the subject.

“You all know there’s going to be a big fight, don’t you?”

Yeah, we knew.

“Have you heard the latest?”

“Do tell,” said Stevie, deadpan.

“It’s tomorrow. They’re coming down here to the gypsy field.”

“You sound like you’re looking forward to it,” said Shane.

“What if I am? All it means is that two sets of meatheads are going to beat each other to a pulp. What’s not to like?”

“What if someone gets hurt?” I asked.

“Like I said, if they’re all idiots, who cares?”

“What if someone gets
badly
hurt? What if someone gets put in hospital?”

Kirk laughed. I think some of the others laughed with him. I could see that I was coming across as a bit straitlaced. I should have learned by now that in an argument at school it’s always the one who is most serious who loses.

“Read my lips,” said Kirk. “I don’t care.
Their
psychos or
our
psychos, doesn’t matter.”

“What if someone gets killed?”

“Hospital or morgue, I couldn’t give a toss. One less nutter.”

Just before break was over the group split up, each person set on some individual project. I found that I was standing alone with Maddy.

It was what I wanted.

What I dreaded.

The truth is that I’d never really spoken to a girl before. I mean, apart from hair-pulling and name-calling when I was little. My mind went blank. No, not blank. It was full of stuff, words and ideas whizzing round. But I couldn’t get my hands on any of them, so the effect was the same.

Silence.

Maddy saved me.

“Dirk’s a kick,” she said. Then there was a little pause while it sank in.

Then we laughed. Loud with the release. Too loud, perhaps.

“Kirk’s a dick, I meant.”

“Yeah,” I said, still smiling. “Why do you lot put up with him?”

“We’re not like that. They don’t exclude anyone.”

It was funny how she went from “we” to “they.” Decoding it was easy. Look at you and me, she was saying. If there was any excluding going on, don’t you think we’d be at the top of the list?

“Shane’s amazing, though, isn’t he,” I said, following some weird connection of my own.

Maddy’s face lit up. “Yeah. And you were there. There when he saved that kid. I’m glad it was you. I don’t think any of the others would have been brave enough to back him up. Not Kirk, anyway. Stevie would have tried, but, you know …”

“Yeah, he looks like he’d break in two if you blew on him.”

Maddy giggled.

I went for it, surfing on the energy wave.

“So, well, do you want to maybe hang out sometime?”

“We hang out all the time.”

Her face, her tone, were hard to read. Friendly, half smiling. But was she saying no, or was she teasing, asking for more? If she hadn’t said the nice things about me, about
being brave, I’d have given up. But I
was
brave: I’d been the one to stand by Shane in his hour of need.

“No, I mean, would you like to go to see a film or something? You know, you and me. Together.”

God, but that was lame.

Then I noticed that Maddy’s eyes had drifted beyond me. I looked round. Shane was waiting near the school entrance.

“Oh heck,” she said. “Look, Shane’s waiting. We’re going to be late for chemistry.”

“Tonight?” I said quickly, clutching at air, hoping, doubting.

“Tonight? Yes, OK, fine.”

She said yes. She definitely said yes. Wings. Flying.

“Let’s meet at the multiplex. At eight. We can see anything—anything you like.”

“Anything, yes.”

Maddy was itching to get to the lesson. That was OK. She was a geek.

And then, her face filling with a smile, she ran toward him—Shane, I mean, and chemistry.

NINETEEN

I was
walking into the building when a hand grabbed the arm of my blazer, pinching my flesh. I let out a quick scream, which was stupid. One of the first things you learn is to hide your pain, because pain is what they love, and it works like a blood trail in the water. But it was the surprise, not really the pain, and how can you guard against being surprised? Anyway, it was answered by the hyena laughs of Miller and Bates. Roth loomed behind them, his black eyes glittering in the shadows.

Bates, who’d grabbed me, pushed me toward his master,
at the same time wrenching and twisting at the soft underflesh of my arm.

“Paul, Paul,” said Roth, his voice soft and deep, pretending hurt, “you’ve been avoiding me.” He stepped forward, opening his arms like a priest. “I thought we were mates. I thought we were going to spend some time together. I thought we’d be down the park, throwing a Frisbee to each other, swapping jokes, having a laugh.”

And I almost did laugh at the thought of Roth with a Frisbee. It was like imagining Genghis Khan with a yo-yo.

“He’s got his new friends now,” said Miller, giggling. “He’s all over them freaks. He must fancy one of them.”

“Which one, do you reckon?” said Bates, joining in. “The lanky one? Or wassisname, the chief bummer?”

“Shut up.”

That made them all laugh, even Roth, who usually saved it for leap years.

“Ooooooo,” said Miller, “look at her. I think we got it.”

“Nah, look, let’s not get nasty,” Roth said, putting his arm around me in that way of his, heavy and threatening. “This is a time we all have to stick together. You know why, don’t you.”

“The fight.”

“The fight,” he says. “The fight. You make it sound like two Year Seven bitches having a bit of a scratch behind the bike sheds. This isn’t a fight, this is war. It’s us against them. And do you know who they are, eh?”

I nodded, meaning the Temple Moor kids, the evil kids who didn’t go to our school, kids who lived just up the road.