of summer

Posted by Kabby on Thursday, January 11 2001 at 05:59:32pm

The wheel turned beneath him without stopping although every now and then it hit a stone and lurched to the side.

There was a stillness in the afternoon air and all Birdy could hear was the pump of the pedals as they went round and the hissing of the chain between his legs.


The two boys rode without speaking for several miles along the rough track that meandered through the woods. The sun made fiery circles in the cloudless sky. In and out of the trees the sun followed them turning and wheeling above them. The smaller boy on the back gasped now and then as the older boy drove the cycle onwards with fierce determination. Neither really knew where they were going. They were caught up in the journey as if it had to lead somewhere as if it had a destination, some reward.

Birdy began to ache and his behind became tender as it bruised bumping on the metal carrier but still the bigger boy rode on. Birdy called out but got no response. He felt a mixture of emotions as if he wanted to cry or laugh or throw himself off the machine into the dust but instead he held on tighter clasping his hands around the waist of the other boy enjoying the power that surged through his muscles the stretch and give of his khaki shorts as his thighs beat the pedals up and down.

He wished he knew where they were going. He wished Hans would turn around just once and speak to him. He wondered if Hans was angry with him as if he was being punished for something. Hans remained quiet. Hans fought gravity and the occasional hill with determination as if he was climbing up out of a trap and had to get free. He rode onwards as if he was going somewhere.

Birdy dared for just a moment to rest his head against Hans' back out of fear and out of tiredness. Then the bike skidded in a rut and he had to thrust his legs to the ground to stop from falling off as Hans swore and then righted them again.

The journey was endless. They were going nowhere it seemed and the journey was endless.

When they got there it was almost evening. The high wire fence surrounded the compound as if it had always been there. Hans lifted the bike and rested it against the fence. He turned to face Birdy with a frown as if demanding further silence then both boys dropped to the ground as an old woman came into view behind the fence.

She walked slowly in the afternoon heat. Her black clothes flowed all around her like darkness as she beat at the weeds with her stick. Now and then she stepped high to avoid something and you could see her boots, brown and laced all the way up her ankles. She moved as angry people do in short jerks as if resenting the exercise. She stopped for an instant and it seemed she was sniffing the air. Sniffing out evil perhaps. Sniffing out the devil himself. She stood there in the overgrown garden like a crow turning her head slowly from left to right. Then she swept up her habit around her like a big black wing and returned to the building.

Birdy was scared. He didn't understand that old woman there. He had no idea what her meaning was. Somehow she was menacing to him as if her black garments were a symbol of the gathering darkness as if she were a witch or a creature made entirely out of shadows.

Hans stood still facing the school. He stayed sullen and silent as he had been all afternoon, silent and tense as if waiting for something. Then he turned and punched Birdy on the thigh. "Get on", he said. He held out the bike. Birdy did as he said.

They rode home still in silence away from the reformatory. Birdy wondered if there were more nuns there hidden waiting in the shadows, in the gloom between the trees. He was hungry and he also felt lonely. It seemed a long way to go before they ever could be home again.

The night of the crickets.


The night was very still, the air heavy with heat. Even the crickets were silent as if they were too exhausted to sustain their usual shrill piping.

What movement there was was slow and measured, the moths circling the electric lamps as if in some enchanted ceremony of the night looked now and then like fireflies as they caught the beam.

Into this solemn arena came a small group of walking people. Slowly they moved across the square as if drunkenly. The group came together and broke apart again as it moved with unusual energy. Closer now figures became clearer.

The women walked slowly and erect as if reluctant to move forward, as if leaning back, as they were, they could arrest their inevitable progression. The two men danced in front of them weaving and bowing as if drawing the women along. The men bobbed and tucked before the women waving their hands at the air, gesturing haste perhaps or reassurance.

They came to the hole in the stone wall where you pass away from the public road into the intimacy of the sloping path with its overhanging hibiscus. The men darted through the gap quickly but the women came to a halt.

Behind them out in the harbour ships moved slowly in the quiet tide, lights burning brightly. Empty ships that rode high on the water, cargoes disgorged or sleeping....Ships that temporarily had no purpose there except as giant hammocks slung over the black water.

The men seemed to become more urgent, pleading perhaps although the women remained motionless or swaying slightly keeping their secrets, holding themselves there in that moment as if arresting time...

One man came through the gap and moved behind the women and in an instant the whole group had crossed through the wall and onto the path that led down to the boats.


Once more the entire panorama became still and silent as if nothing lived out there, that wasn't asleep.

It stayed like that for some time, unchanging, brooding, quiet. Then a single cry broke through the stillness, a cry of pain or anger. A woman shouted quickly, "I am going home," but male voices answered her soothing, reassuring like the hum of drones. The woman cried again this time it sounded like fear and there was the sound of running footsteps behind the wall.

The lights on the ships in the harbour began to move slowly as a breeze rose out of the south east and the crickets welcomed this relief coming to life again and filling the night with their ghi ghi ghis!