It breaks my heart to see what’s happened to this place. Before the bombs came Mum would say this at least once a week, no joking. Sometimes three times. When I came home from school without any homework to do, she’d say it. When I had to walk three miles to the only chemist in Little Town who sold her asthma inhaler, she’d say it. When I returned from the shops with an incomplete list of supplies, she’d say it. I got used to hearing this phrase.
Dad directed his annoyance towards the newspapers and television, scoffing and mocking all the stories of the day. This was so far removed from the balanced, non-prejudiced news that he wrote back in the day when he was taking chances, being brave, standing up for honesty and transparency. It was funny seeing Dad shout at rival newspapers.
‘You know you can get an inhaler any day of the week in Old Country,’ I informed Mum one time, as she had only three puff days remaining until I had to go and get her another. Dad flipped his lid, flashing his eyes above his paper and locking them on me.
‘Does that school of yours not teach you anything, son?’ I didn’t want to rhyme off what we actually learnt in school so I let him go off on one of his flips. ‘Old Country is out of bounds for us; you need papers to go over the border, a passport, a specific reason. We don’t have any of those things, so why bloody mention it?’
‘But I was just –’
‘OK, Charlie?’ Dad dropped his paper to his knees. ‘Are we clear about that?’
‘Crystal,’ I said.
Dad could be very sensitive about the political situation. He wanted nothing more than for everyone to come and go as they pleased, to live in perfect harmony and all that. But at the same time he didn’t want to attract trouble; he wanted to do his job without any hassles. That’s why he kept his mouth shut.
Another time I mentioned to Mum that I’d heard about a place in Little Town where we could get quality supplies any day of the week. A bit like a warehouse where, if you knew the right people – or password, I don’t know – you’d get in. I’d heard on the QT that if you paid a little bit more than shop prices you could get your hands on just about anything. Even inhalers. If you knew any of the top brass who ran these places then even better. I actually thought Mum would’ve been happy with this news. Shows what I know!
‘I can get all the details at school, from Norman, if you want,’ I told her. Some people at school knew the score; they had their ears to the ground. Norman would definitely spill the beans if you got him talking.
When Mum gets angry her breathing becomes heavier, like she’s trying to suck in huge volumes of air so her tirade can be more powerful.
‘Now, you listen to me, Charlie Law, and listen good: if I ever catch you going to any of those places it’ll be school, home, room, bed for you for the next year.’
‘But I was just –’
‘Are we clear about that?’
‘Crystal.’
I was certain that Dad knew about these warehouses because I’d heard him mutter things behind his newspaper like, An embarrassment to call themselves officials AND Who voted for this lot, eh? AND Bloody shower of gangsters if you ask me AND Who do they think they actually represent? Not me, that’s who!
It did seem a bit unfair that people living in Old Country could get whatever they wanted whenever they wanted and we couldn’t. I bet teenagers over there didn’t have to wait ages until their parents saved enough money to buy them a new pair of swanky trainers or a denim jacket or books. I bet teenagers over there sneaked out to late nightclubs and maybe, just maybe, they did get to stay out after dark without feeling terrified. I’m betting, of course, but truth is I didn’t know for sure.
Whenever I got them all worried, Mum and Dad sat me down to tell me (once again) the dos and don’ts of Little Town. As I got older more stuff was added to the list. After the whole thing about getting inhalers from Old Country and black-market warehouses in Little Town, we had one major parental powwow. Afterwards I formulated and constructed my own list and stuck it on the inside of one of my books.
CHARLIE LAW’S TEN LAWS OF LITTLE TOWN
1.Respect the dark curfew. No going out after dark in groups of three or more, unless you can prove that you are with family members. (Easy to get around: walk somewhere separately)
2.No ball games in public places. (Parks … I know)
3.No pets. (One word: disease)
4.No boozing in the streets. (House boozing OK, though)
5.No shouting in the streets. (Not even in jest = public order crime)
6.No giving cheek to the lawmakers. (Unless you want a clout around the lughole)
7.No dodging school unless you have one of the verified illnesses on the list or you’ve been asked to carry out lawmaker work. (Only a sudden limb amputation would’ve prevented me from attending school, and even then it would depend which limb)
8.No tomfoolery in public places. (Which I took to mean, don’t enjoy yourself … ever!)
9.NO STEALING. (A biggie!)
10.Instruction to beat ALL instructions: never draw attention to yourself, and WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T GET CAUGHT.