Authors: Natasha Carthew
‘Well now I don’t believe you.’
‘Believe what you want.’
‘You got a big mouth, int you?’
‘They let you in, dint they? Just let us in or I’ll blow your smug mug to bits.’
Sonny took the gun from Butch and raised it and fixed the cross hairs to his head and winked.
‘No need for violence,’ called a woman’s voice. ‘God made us equal and all that.’
The voice became a face and Ennor stared into the dull arched corridor to search the woman’s features for something that might resemble her own.
‘Mum?’ she asked, her heart a plump stifling pillow in her mouth.
‘Don’t think so, dear.’
‘It’s me, Ennor.’
‘Never heard of you. Who’s these?’
‘My friends and this here is Trip. You remember him? He was just a baby but –’
‘What do you want? I’m busy.’
Ennor thought it a funny thing to ask because what was it all children wanted from their parents.
‘Are you Mother?’ asked Trip.
‘Only to my flock. You talk funny, boy. Are you joinin us? Cus like I said . . .’
Ennor passed the horse’s reins to Butch and she wanted to shout out her confusion and ask the list of questions for ever but instead she approached in silence and stood with heavy hands swinging and a mouth full of feathers. The questions she had carried across the moor had deserted her.
‘I got a photo.’
‘Tell your friend there to lower her gun.’
Sonny nodded and swung the rifle on its strap so that it hung from her shoulder and they all watched maybe daughter and maybe mother stand face to face and silent. Ennor took the picture frame from the saddle bag and she held it up to the gate.
The woman shook her head. ‘Who is it you’re lookin for, kid?’
‘Eleanor Carne.’
‘She’s gone.’
‘Where.’
‘Search me. People come and go and she’s gone for ever, I’d say.’
Ennor wondered if she’d gone in the physical sense or perhaps the spiritual and she gave the woman a good looking over and recognised nothing but glimmers like shockwaves through and part was voice and part was something else. She stepped forward.
‘So you convertin or no? Come on, girl, tick-tock.’
Ennor looked at the photo and then at the woman and she searched for the cogs of recognition to turn sparks into fire but anything that might once have burnt there had died long ago. She thought about showing the ring and decided against.
‘No,’ she said.
‘You sure?’ She pushed a hand through the metal bars and touched Ennor briefly on her face and a small ticklish laugh escaped her lips that was both heaven and hell.
‘I gotta go.’ Ennor turned and mounted the horse with Trip behind and the woman said her name and told her to take care of herself and when she looked down at the gate she had gone.
She rode the horse ahead of Sonny and Butch and they were quiet with the sting of sudden smacks still fresh on their faces.
Nobody spoke because there was nothing left to say and there was nothing worth listening to except the blunt hum of chatterbox minds.
They went single file through the littered streets and the dog jigged and barked at the rubbish like he had reached heaven and looked prepared to stay there.
Ennor rode to the harbour and she stood the horse in the surf to close her eyes to everything and the sea spray and it was Sonny as always who had the courage to confront the uncomfortable silence and she asked what next.
Ennor shrugged.
‘She your mother or no?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘You want her to be your mother even if she is? Not sure I would.’
‘Well you’ve got your parents alive and sane so don’t start wonderin.’
‘Not sure bout the sane part but, anyway, just tryin to make it so it don’t hurt so much.’
‘I know.’
Ennor stared into the flat smack sea and everything in her wanted to kick the horse into running. Towards the waves and out into the for ever horizon, keep going, sink or swim.
‘Where we goin, sister?’ asked Trip.
Ennor didn’t answer; she didn’t know.
‘I’m scared.’
‘I know, buddy.’ She reached around to pat him on the leg. ‘Sister’s scared too.’
There was nothing that could be said and nothing that could be done but roam the streets for signs of life and they went back through the town and called out for a doctor.
‘I gotta get down,’ coughed Butch. ‘Just set me down a while, please.’
‘We’re gettin you a doctor,’ said Sonny. ‘Got to be one hidin somewhere.’
‘Let me lie down, just for a minute.’
The two girls looked at each other and Ennor said they could sit him on a bench while they continued looking.
‘Won’t be long,’ she told him. ‘We’ll go once more round town, then back.’
Butch tried to smile and it broke her heart all over again to see him huddled over the dog like a deadbeat.
They rode through the streets and looped back along the beach front and one or other of them called out until their throats itched with hopeless words.
‘Let’s stop a minute,’ said Sonny. ‘Where’s that tramp gone? He might know more than he’s lettin on. I got more to sell.’
‘I’d say he’s settled into that bottle of cider you gave him,’ said Ennor and she turned to look at Sonny. ‘What’s that?’ She pointed towards a placard poking out from the sand behind her.
Sonny turned and they both read it out loud.
‘What is it?’ asked Trip. ‘What’s it mean?’
‘Says bout a boat goin tomorrow, goin to the Scillies.’
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘The promised land,’ laughed Sonny. ‘Fancy that.’
They rode their horses on to the sand to read the sign up close and a fisherman stepped out from behind the rocks.
‘You kids interested?’ he asked.
‘What’s great about the Scillies?’ asked Sonny. ‘What’s different?’
‘They got a self-sufficient community goin out there. Food and business near to normal.’
The girls looked at each other.
‘How’d we know?’
The man smiled. ‘You don’t. That’s where the world’s gone wrong. No trust left.’
‘How much?’ asked Ennor.
The man came close and he felt the horse’s legs down to the sand. ‘These horses yours?’
Sonny looked at Ennor and then told him they were.
‘Well I’d say that might swing it.’
‘Got room for four?’
‘Might well, be here by ten tomorrow. See what we can do.’
Ennor nodded and asked if he knew of any doctors in the town but he just shook his head. ‘Scillies got doctors, got teachers, the lot. Don’t forget, ten in the morning. Don’t be late.’
They rode back to town and Ennor counted two magpies, one two, for luck as they circled the main square up ahead of them. One more night in the rough and they would be on their way: a doctor for Butch, teachers for Trip and a new life for them all.
At first she didn’t notice the commotion. A little fantasy had wormed its way into her thinking and happiness was close by.
‘What’s goin on?’ she asked. ‘What’s all the yappin bout?’
The pack of feral dogs stood barking mad in the road, clambering over each other in a fight to get to the prize. Family pets turned to wolves in just a few weeks of neglect. Sonny held out the rifle and fired a bullet into the air and when they didn’t move she fired another at their feet and had them scattered, regretful to have to leave blood behind.
‘You killed buddy dog!’ shouted Trip as one of the dogs howled out in pain. ‘You killed buddy dog!’
Sonny jumped from her horse and ran towards the lifeless body in the road.
‘Is he hurt?’ shouted Ennor. ‘Please, God, tell me he int hurt.’ She slid from her own horse and ran to Butch, a high-pitched ping resonating in her ears from Trip’s screaming.
‘He’s breathin,’ said Sonny.
‘Is he bit?’
‘Just torn clothes, let me look.’ Sonny pulled up his jacket sleeves and peered into the chewed holes of his jeans. ‘Grazes mostly. It’s his breathin that’s the worry.’
Ennor cradled his head and asked him if he could hear her and he blinked and tried to smile, his pale skin as white as the snow that skidded crossways on the road beneath him.
‘He needs a doctor.’
‘There int none,’ said Sonny.
Ennor looked around for assistance and she called out for help just as if they lived in a regular world. A gang of youths stood watching from the bend in the road and she called for them to get a doctor.
‘They don’t look right, leave um,’ said Sonny. ‘Looks like they’re settlin to rob us.’
‘Stuff um,’ shouted Ennor. ‘What we got to rob?’
Sonny shook her head. ‘We need to get Butch on the back of the horse quick and shut your brother up, would you?’
Trip was still screaming at the sight of blood on the snow and he punched the saddle in anger.
‘Trip, you need to be a good lad. This is very important, Butch is poorly,’ shouted Ennor.
‘Buddy dog is dead!’ he yelled. ‘Sonny killed buddy dog!’
‘Trip, please.’ Ennor helped Sonny lift Butch towards the jittery horse. ‘For fuck’s sake Trip, shut up.’
The gang were getting closer, calling Ennor to come over, jesting that they wouldn’t bite.
When Butch was hanging securely over the rump of the horse Sonny swung the rifle into full view of the boys and turned to face them.
‘Dare me,’ she shouted. ‘Just go ahead and dare me.’
‘Just being friendly,’ one of them smirked.
Sonny ignored him and held the gun firmly in both hands. ‘Who’s first?’ she asked, guiding the double barrel from one face to the next.
‘You wouldn’t do it.’
‘Wouldn’t I?’
‘You int got the guts. Besides, there int more than two bullets a go in that gun and you’ve had your share of firin.’
‘Int there now?’
The mouthy boy edged forward so he was face to face with the barrel. ‘Nope.’
‘Wanna take the chance?’
‘You’re bluffin.’ He grinned.
Sonny winked. ‘Your funeral.’
She unlooped the strap and flicked the rifle into the air, catching it by the barrel in time to smash the butt into the side of his face.
‘Anyone else?’ she yelled.
Ennor looked down at the boy, blood from his head seeped into the snow and mingled with that of the injured dog and it was all red just the same. ‘Let’s go,’ she shouted.
The remaining three boys stepped back and so did Sonny and she jumped up in front of Butch. ‘Don’t even think bout followin us!’ she shouted. ‘We got bullets and it takes a second to reload.’
Sonny reached behind her and felt for Butch’s neck, he was breathing but only just and his skin was ice cold.
‘We need to get him warmed up,’ she shouted across to Ennor on the other horse. ‘Gotta get out of town and get a fire goin.’
Ennor looked at Sonny through a blur of silent tears. She wanted to ask if everything would be all right like she always did but the look on Sonny’s face told her it was anything but.
Something she knew in any case: something she’d known all along.
They rode in silence and with purpose to put a little distance between them and the town, with Sonny sitting stiff from the cold and Butch stretched out behind her like a deer corpse after a hunt.
Ennor felt Trip’s small warm body snuggle tight against her back, his crying nothing more than random gasps for air.
‘You OK, buddy?’ she asked and felt him shake his head.
‘You gotta be strong. I’m countin on you.’
‘Sonny,’ he gargled. ‘Sonny killed buddy dog.’
Ennor reached around and patted one dangling leg. ‘The dogs had got into a pack like a gang. They were attackin Butch.’
‘Why?’
‘Cus they’re animals and were hungry.’
‘Why what Sonny done?’
‘She had to stop them.’
‘I hate her.’
‘No you don’t.’
‘Do,’ he shouted. ‘I hate you!’
Sonny looked over her shoulder at them and her silence unnerved Ennor.
‘Shut up, Trip,’ said Ennor. ‘Please, just shut up.’
They rode on towards higher ground and Sonny led her horse into a small crop field overlooking the bay and dismounted.
‘Lay out your tarp and I’ll pull him down.’
Ennor did what she was told and when they settled Butch on to it she covered him with all their blankets.
‘Kid,’ shouted Sonny. ‘Stop your dribblin, you’re comin to fetch wood with me.’ She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the hedgerow.
Ennor took off her coat and bundled it into a pillow for Butch. ‘We’ll soon get you warmed up.’ She looked into his eyes and ran her fingertips across his cheek.