An extract from 'popeye never told you' by Rodney Hall

Mike heaves the window down to slam it shut, and Di comes running across the carpet just in time to see the whole town change into black chimneys and glass flashes and this one WOW! comes so close i duck and the windows rattle and i see weird rooms over there like bright toilets and rooms with cupboards and enormous shadows flicker on the wallpaper, but im not afraid because Mikes here and im going to be a sailor anyway! and a puff of smoke drifts past in front of everything but i press my nose against the mesh, ‘BKHHHURR!’ i shout back at the explosion, and the din is terrific with the air raid sirens wailing as well, ‘lets get out of here!’ Di says, ‘but we shall miss the smoke!’ i say, and i ought to rescue Teddy from the bedroom but ive got to keep watch, and the noise is all around though you cant tell if its coming or going and bits of stuff come flying past out of the dark and im thirsty, ‘look at those searchlights’ Mike says, so i crane my neck, ‘–moment to lose!’ Mums voice suddenly screams, and shes like a ghost in the doorway! and Mike springs down and gets busy because we all know what to do, and Di tugs at the black-out curtains to pin them together so theres not even a crack left, and now Mike gives me a push ‘move!’ he says, and i hate that so i hit him and i wish i could hit harder but hes too big, ‘get off the settee’ he says, but the gasmask dangling round my neck strangles me and my tin helmet slips crooked, ‘okay’ Mike says while he dashes about, beginning to push the settee all by himself ‘now roll it!’ and Di helps trundle the big thing across the carpet till its back clunks up against the piano to make a safety tunnel because the piano is the biggest thing in our flat standing up against the wall, and i know this is the drill we practised but all i do is watch, though im still the first to dive into the tunnel because im the littlest, so now when the roof falls in we can be safe, ‘super!’ and i wriggle right along to the end and crouch there, and Di gets in next, ‘your teeth are chattering’ she says, ‘no theyre not’ and even under here i can see a flash of torchlight because Mums still moving around the room outside our tunnel, ‘listen to this’ Mike says, and with both hands together he presses down on the loud pedal and i can hear humming inside the piano, ‘hurry up, Mum’ i yell, ‘hurry up, Mum!’ Di yells, because the enemy planes make the whole place shake, so i think its best to count to ten and i bet if theres not another bomb before ten we wont be hit and this could be the end of the war, at last Mum crawls in with us and shes bringing a flat tin, ‘whats that?’ Mike asks, ‘old snapshots of our farm in Australia’ Mum says, ‘you never told us about that’ i say, so Mikes first with it because hes down that end and she gives him the pencil-torch so he can look okay and i watch him looking at a photograph and his eyes glow in the torchlight, but theres a BANG so big it makes me jump and i hit my head, and Dianas got the photo and the torch so she shares with me, ‘can you see this, Rod?’ but i cant because of my eyes, ‘heres a pointy rock’ Di says, i cant, ‘and heres a lady’ Di shows me and she kisses me, ‘thats me’ says Mum ‘when i was young’ so i rub my tears on my sleeve and i can see her there in riding breeches and shes reaching up to touch the tip of the rock, ‘and thats not a rock, its an ant-hill’ Mum says ‘back at home’ but this is home, this flat where we live, ‘you find them all over the place’ she says ‘so i chose the biggest’ and its so enormous it must be full of ants as big as dogs! then why wasnt she running? another bomb goes off, ‘that shook the foundations’ Mike says, ‘heres a snap of our road’ Mum says ‘from the farm to town’ ‘can you see the road, Rod?’ Di asks and she shares so we can look together, ‘and heres a horse’ she shows me, ‘his name was George’ says Mum, ‘and heres a cart’ says Di, and i love her so i blink and i blink and i try to see, ‘the cart’ Di tells me about it ‘is half way up the hill’ but i still cant make it out and everything in our flat is shaking and rattling, the fishmongers wife scrubs her stone slab with a brush and sloshes water on it and im allowed to watch, ‘was your dad killed in the war then?’ she asks, but i hate it when people ask, the slab flashes in the sun and i make up my mind, ‘yes he was’ i lie, and she sloshes some more, i want you to know because im thinking about you all the time, but the street outside is quiet and the whole towns empty because its Sunday and the shop blinds stay down and church bells are donging, and we sit around playing favourites while we wait for Mum to get up now that shes had her cup of tea, like whats your favourite book and whats your favourite card game, and i have a favourite name that i keep secret and nobody will ever guess in a thousand years, and we dont have to go shopping today because the shops arent open, ‘darlings?’ Mum calls from the bedroom in a little voice ‘somebody?’ and im the one who goes in, while Diana and Michael wait behind for me to bring them the latest news, and shes lying on top of the bed and the blue bedspread is all shiny around her and underneath her and shes put some pillows in a stack for her head to go on, and shes got one hand on her head and her arms white and she gives me an empty glass with the other hand, so i take it back into the kitchen, ‘she still has her headache from the overtime’ i say ‘and its really bad’ so i get busy filling the glass with water for her and Mike fetches the Anadins from the cupboard because hes the oldest and Di pours her a fresh cup of tea, but the Anadins are the main thing and they can never be taken by children because the pills come in a tiny tin thats a special green colour, we play hands-knees-and-bumps-a-daisy, and Diana and i bump our bottoms and this is so funny we fall over and bottom is a naughty word, and Gran says we can have as many apricots as we like so im up on the step ladder and im pulling them off her tree to stuff them in my mouth and theyre so squishy the juice runs down my chin, ‘you greedy thing’ Gran says and shes laughing at me ‘careful you dont swallow the stone as well!’ ‘because why?’ ‘because then i should think an apricot tree will grow inside you’ so i think about that and Di looks at me like she can see it happening already, ‘then what?’ i say, ‘then youll sprout leaves out of your mouth and nose’and Gran laughs till she shakes all over because shes fat and old, but its only a goods train passing because the rumble lasts such a long time and im awake in bed so i reach out to lift a corner of the black-out curtain and let in some moonlight but theres nothing in our room except Mike on his bed and the cupboard in the corner, and i shall be ready when the air raid sirens start up and im going to bolt for the lounge room to help push the settee, but everythings quiet and all there is is our kitchen clock ticking, i let the curtain drop, but the dark is worse because now i cant help thinking, and what i think about is enemy commandos and parachutes floating down into a field that looks like the field where Mum takes us picking mush-rooms, so i lift the curtain again and look out at the empty yard and i hold it up till my arm gets tired and i have to boggle my eyes, the first cross-over for the knot is easy because Mike shows me how, so i loop one lace and now i wind the other around and through, and this looks good! i give it a pull, but the whole thing falls apart so i tug my shoes off and chuck them across the room, ‘lets try again’ Mike says, and the railway is where everything happens and im a good train-spotter because we are always spotting and the tracks pass just down the back of our place and we can play in the coal bunkers, and the rain doesnt matter, even Diana knows about trains although shes a girl, and this rusty siding isnt used anymore and these stones are called clinkers, and i hunch my shoulders and give the peak of my cap a good tug and the rain patters on my mackintosh and wet weeds brush my knees and drops get caught in my eyelashes, but i keep walking and watching my shoes crunch the clinkers and when i look back Mike and Di are still under that leaky roof of the old goods platform where we go because its the best place for spotting when the express trains rush through, but they catch up at the coal bunkers so we hang around together and jump in for a soft landing because the coal dust is thick and squidgy and we jump till drips get down the back of my collar and i dont like it, so im going home and once we get there im going to stop indoors and play with our model railway even though the lines get pulled apart and bent and this always leads to quarrels, and the blasted rain gets heavier and heavier and im sick of it and therell be puddles outside and water running down the wall because of the leaky gutter Mum cant fix, but what i like is our big back yard is up on the roof of the garage, because thats what the yard is, and i can lean over the skylights to look down where the mechanics are fixing cars, and when the weathers nice we scramble up on the flat roof of our kitchen too, so thats what we do in summer because this is where we hide the junket we make and we squat down on the kitchen roof to eat it, and i love junket though Mum thinks its disgusting and its usually okay except for a few flecks of soot, and we dont even argue and we take our shirts off to get some sun, but last time Michael told Diana she should keep hers on because shes a girl, and i know the difference between boys and girls of course but i couldnt see what showing her chest had to do with it, but now im in a temper because i cant find anything in this blasted cupboard so i begin throwing junk out all over the floor and i wont give in, not even if i have to wreck everything, i stand back while i watch the blind man feel his way into our flat going straight to the piano and then taking the front off it, ‘did you know it can hum all by itself?’ i ask him, and theres lots of strings inside, ‘no, i didnt know that’ he says, but he misses me with his look, and he gets busy and i can tell how the tunings going because i watch his face pinch up till it comes right, and Mum says our piano is a good one, but the tuner cant read the brass alphabet Schreiber because his eyes dont work like mine, and anyway i run to the window because Mikes begun the game of spitting down on the cars that turn in underneath us when they come to fill up with petrol, and when they drive out again you get a second go, but you have to lean right over the sill if you want a good shot at them, ‘youre too little for spitting’ Mike says, but i spit like a champion, and if no cars come i aim at peoples hats instead, the window i like best is Mums bedroom because Mike and Di like the lounge and so i can have it to myself and all three of us can hang out together and count one two three spit! at the same time, ‘dont fall!’ Mike says, and i hit a black umbrella, super! and Mums bedroom smells nice because on the dressing-table theres a squirter with a tassel and her double bed is covered with a bedspread made of silk and thats where Diana sleeps too because she doesnt have a bed of her own, but ive got my own bed thats under the window in our room and Mikes got a bed too over by the wall, but our window is no good for spitting from because its at the back and theres nothing below, only the yard you can climb out on to, This is an extract from Rodney Hall’s memoir, popeye never told you, published this month by Pier 9. Craig Munro reviews it on page 20.

Rodney Hall

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