At the chalk face

The crumpled, rusty sheet of tin which was once a tray grated and
clunked its way down the side of the chalk pit. Joe's bony buttocks
were glued to the top of the tray, and Joe did his best to stay with
them. He dug his heels viciously into the chalk and mud and ground to a
halt.
"Get hold of it then, stupid," he said, thrusting the ass-warmed wafer
of metal at Eddy. "Climb up the other side and have a go you daft
little cissy."
This was too much for Eddy, whatever his mother had told him. He
snatched the tray and after three false starts, clambered to the top of
the pit. He tucked his pullover into his shorts before attempting the
descent. There was no point in getting whiter than necessary. Joe was
white all over his ass and calves and everywhere. His mum would give
him hell when he got home, but Joe could take it. Eddy, on the other
hand, thought he could take it, but never found out because he was a
good boy. This meant that every time something really interesting
happened, Eddy had this sinking feeling in his stomach and backed off.
Consequently he had a reputation as what Joe called 'a prize
ponce.'
Joe liked Eddy, though he was no less cruel to him than the rest of
the ids in the junior school. He reserved the right to be a little sod
to Eddy, but anyone else who tried it was in for a hammering if Joe was
about. Eddy was grateful for having a protector, even if he was
sometimes more dangerous than other kids. Joe and Eddy were good
friends.
"Come on then, or do I have to come up and shove you down?"
"I'm comin' as soon as I get me tray ready."
Eddy pushed himself forward and felt the tray slither away with a
power of its own. He came hurtling down the slope with none of the
expertise of his older friend. His spindly limbs were flapping in all
directions and by the time he reached the bottom he was travelling
sideways. Joe was laughing too much to think of moving out of the way,
and both of them plus the tray went careering into a bed of
nettles.
Joe got up and out still laughing, and when Eddy fell over in his
haste to get clear of the nettles, Joe rolled around on the ground with
uncontrollable mirth. Eddy laughed in spite of himself, though he could
not help noticing that his trousers were stained with white from the
chalk and green from the nettles. Joe gave Eddy no time to be worried,
because when his laughter subsided he stood up and thumped Eddy's bony
arm. Eddy took this, as he usually did, with stoical resignation. He
knew his place. He now had three things to worry about: the nettle
stings, the stains on his clothes and the pain in his arm.
"That's for not looking where you are goin' and for worryin' about the
stains on your trousers."
Joe knew Eddy very well.
"Come on. Let's get away from all this chork," Joe commanded.
The two boys clambered through a gap in the barbed wire fence and into
a small copse which was next to the pit. It was dark and quiet there,
except for the gentle humming of flies and the occasional heavy bomber
sound of a bee. The sun broke through the foliage in patches of stark
green brightness. Joe struggled happily to disengage a length of
creeper from the trunk of a tree.
"I'm going to make a fantastic swing. You can go away for a
bit."
Joe issued orders as thought they were basis for good conversation.
Eddy was quite content to wander away through the copse. He knew that
Joe would always be within earshot. He walked carefully watching at all
times for any signs of the Enemy. Everything seemed in order for the
moment. It appeared to be a beautiful and peaceful afternoon in the
heart of the Dorset countryside. Eddy knew better. He knew that when
you least expected it, the Enemy was right there. It was like the
spotty faced Sunday school teacher had said - watch and wait - except
he was not talking about exactly the same thing.
Eddy had never actually seen the enemy, but he had often felt Its
presence. It was usually behind him. He had also seen signs which told
him of Its whereabouts: leaves flurrying in circles, the grass
shivering and a thousand other whispers which spelled danger. Eddy had
a complex system of rules for combating the mighty Foe. For instance,
if he licked each finger tip in turn and slapped the trunk of a tree
three times, it gave him safety for three minutes. If he put a slug to
his lips the Enemy was harmless for the rest of the day, though It lost
none of Its power to terrify. With these thoughts in his mind, Eddy
picked his way through the foliage.
"Look at this Eddy", shouted Joe with glee. Eddy ran back to find Joe
suspended from a length of creeper which he had somehow wedged between
two branches.
"This is much better than the pit".
Eddy shouted his agreement and stood watching in silent admiration. A
few seconds later the creeper snapped, sending Joe hurtling through the
air and hard against the base of a tree. Eddy started forward, fearing
the worst. Joe was hurt badly enough to squat still for a moment with
his eyes shut, then he leapt at Eddy to disguise the fact that he was
in pain. The two boys rolled over and over, and Eddy knew that he must
play this game carefully until Joe had come to terms with his
bruises.
"That was a good laugh" said Joe with not quite enough conviction. Eddy
agreed and got shakily to his feet. "Let's go and ask for a drink of
water at the house," he suggested tentatively.
The 'house' was a small cottage, in which lived an old married couple.
The husband was away most of the day, and the old lady was often called
upon by passing cyclists to provide a glass of water. This she did with
the minimum of good grace.
Joe and Eddy stood at the door looking hot and very dishevelled in the
afternoon sun. The old lady answered the door and grudgingly brought
one glass of water which the boys had to share. Joe drank first,
leaving about half an inch of water in the bottom of the glass. The old
lady stood grimly waiting. Eddy moistened his mouth with what remained
and was about to ask if it might be possible to have some more when the
woman snatched the glass and shut the door.
"Miserable old bag. I hope she drops dead on the way to the kitchen,"
said Joe. Eddy would not allow himself to agree, but put his "I know
just what you mean, but that would be very uncharitable" look on. Joe
just scowled at him.
"Come on," he said gruffly, "I've got something to show you."
Eddy followed Joe as he ran up the footpath past the chalk pit and
along the top of the mill down. He stopped under the monkey puzzle tree
that stood by the railway line.
"You know old man Harper," said Joe with a trace of malicious
pleasure.
Eddy nodded. "Well last week 'e come up 'ere in the night and put his
'ead on the line when the Bristol express come past."
"He never" said Eddy.
"He bloody well did. You can still see the dried blood on the line if
you walk up there a bit."
Joe pointed majestically down the line, where he knew Eddy would never
venture, even without the possibility of viewing some gore.
"Well, so what" said Eddy, trying to put on a brave face.
"So bloody fantastic, that's what," said Joe. "Just think what that
express train must have done to his head. They reckon he got all caught
up in the wheels and all they found of him was bits of red
string."
Joe was enjoying this and Eddy was sickening visibly.
"That's not what I wanted to show you though," said Joe.
Eddy was momentarily relieved.
""I want to show you something else. I am going to have a wank. Do you
know what that is?"
Eddy confessed that he did not. Joe told him to watch carefully and he
would soon get the idea. First, he said, you have to take out your
cock, and he did. At first Eddy did not know what Joe meant because he
still called it his winkle. Joe soon explained. Eddy had no idea that
it could be that big and he was fascinated. And there seemed to be a
lot of hair about. He asked Joe if everyone had hair like that and Joe
said yes and told him to shut up so he could concentrate. After a
minute or two of hard work, Joe drew Eddy's attention to the end of his
winkle, from which there leapt a small globule of white liquid. It
jumped in the air and landed, glistening on the grass between Joe's
legs. Joe sat back blissfully and Eddy looked from the blob to Joe and
back again.
"Why do you do it?" he asked innocently.
"Because it's nice, stupid."
"How is it nice?"
Joe considered thumping Eddy.
"It's nice like&;#8230; well like &;#8230; oh you know it's got
to do with women."
"What!"
The tone of Eddy's voice was extremely irritating to Joe.
"Look, I'm not gonna tell you 'cuz you'd never understand. So just be
grateful for what you've seen and don't tell anyone, Right."
Eddy knew how to keep a secret, though he didn't think this was much
of one. How could Joe's winkle have anything to do with women? And who
was interested in women? It was obvious that Joe would answer no more
questions and Eddy was not sure that he had fully understood what was
going on. He decided it would be better to forget the whole thing. Joe
stood up, buttoning his fly.
"Come on, let's go now" he said, and Eddy was glad. The two boys
walked slowly across the deserted down in the late afternoon sun. Eddy
felt tired and would be glad to get home. They were just coming round
to the path which led to the main road when Joe stopped and motioned
Eddy to come to the side of the road.
"Look over there in that field" he said in almost a whisper. Eddy
instantly felt that there was something he should be frightened of. The
boys peered through the bushes, and over in the field they could make
out two figures dressed in black overcoats. One of them carried a small
box under his arm. The other one opened the box and scattered its
contents across the ground, as though he was sowing seed.
"What they doing? Whispered Eddy, unable to suppress his
curiosity.
"Them blokes", Joe replied in whisper close to a hiss, "Them blokes
are throwing ashes around."
"What for" came Eddy's predictable response.
"Because they ain't ordinary ashes. They're people."
Joe delivered this line with relish. He knew it was a winner.
"People?" Eddy barely articulated the word. "What people?"
"Dead people. Them blokes is undertakers. They burn dead people and
it's called cremayshun."
"What and then they bring there ashes up here?"
Joe did not answer, he just looked silently triumphant. Then he
spoke.
"Maybe it makes the grass grow better."
Eddy was silent, awe-struck.
"Just think", said Joe, "all them dead people around us while we're
playing up here. It makes you think, don't it?"
Eddy was thinking. He was all muddled up. Maybe they were sprinkling
the remains of old Harper across the mill down. Maybe they were
sprinkling bits of red string through the grass.
"Come on" said Joe for about the hundredth time that day. "There's
nothing to be really scared of. It's just ashes and ashes can't hurt
nobody."
Eddy was eager to agree, but he did not find it so easy. The boys
walked deliberately away from the bushes and over to the path. Then
they both ran like the wind all the way down to the main road.
The two men in overcoats walked reverentially, soberly to a large
black limousine which they entered. It drove away. As it passed the
boys the driver looked across and his eyes met Eddy's for a split
second. Eddy looked away and watched his own feet walk with a sombre
intensity. He was sure that he had seen, for the first time, the face
of the Enemy.