You can’t leave me, Devil.
The heartbeat stopped and I laid my head on his chest. I felt the blood on my skin, still warm; it soaked into my hair. I lay there until his body was cold. I held onto his paw and stroked the pads.
Hail thee O lizards carry upon thy river thy servant, hail thee O lizards carry upon thy river thy servant. In repetition I fell into sleep and woke into a pointless rage. It was useless, I was useless. Everything was gone from me.
I held him in one arm, hooked around his neck, his body flopping like Ruby. I was taking him to Kensal Green Cemetery. We broke out into the early morning light, bloodied monsters from below. I didn’t look at him, I just held him to my chest. I didn’t look to where the Nazis had been. I didn’t need to see anything more, for everything was gone from me, everything was to be buried, disappeared.
I found him a corner in the cemetery. It caught the sun in the afternoon. He used to sit there until the heat was too much and we’d clamber over the wall and he’d cool off in the canal.
I dug a hole. I kissed his head, nuzzling in behind his ear. He didn’t smell of anything anymore. I placed him in the hole and showered him with pennies and sweets and ma’s old lipsticks, treasures and gifts for the lizards below. I emptied out the treasure box and put the camera inside, placing it next to Devil. I covered him with earth, saying my lizard prayers. I lit candles. I cried for hours and fell asleep on the grave.
I woke up, pulled David’s bear out from amongst the discarded treasures and cut its head off. I cut off its stubby arms and legs. I cut the head off the shrew Pigeon had given me and I carefully sewed it on to the bear body. It was squint and too small for the body but it was done and my sewing was good. I rummaged through the rest of the treasures and found the dried worms and the crow foot. I sewed the worms into both arm sockets and attached the crow foot into one of the leg sockets with wire and thread. I found a doll’s leg for the other side of the body. With wire and thread I sat hunched, attaching pigeon wings to its back. The wings were joined by part of the spine, each wing still beautiful with perfect feathers. When I finished I inspected my creation and wrapped it in bandages.
The day had gone. My belly was growling. I chewed on sweets and walked deep into the cemetery, finding apples and berries. I held the bundle, looking for the perfect spot. I found a grand gravestone, sheltered by trees, and I knelt, lighting two candles at the base. I laid the bundle down and began to dig.
I didn’t have Dr Frankenstein’s science. But I had magic.
Hail thee lizards down below in the darkness in the depths hail thee O Lizard King I consecrate unto thee this creature of beauty made in observance of your law O Lizard Queen and King of the deep O guardian lizards I consecrate unto thee this gift the word shall be made flesh and this flesh shall be given lifeblood Holy Holy Holy which was and is and is to come I pour forth my blood I beseech thee O lizards of the depths by this passion I bring unto thee a gift and unto me I ask for a resurrection of these pieces I have sewn with diligence. I eat this heart for thee.
I placed the bundle in the hole, wrapped up like Frankenstein’s monsta. Flicking open my penknife I cut my arm and drip-dripped blood onto the white bandages, watching it seep. I sank my teeth into an apple, dripping the juice onto the blood, imagining my teeth were sinking into a human heart, the heart of he who stole from us, giving back what he has taken. I poured earth over the creature and sat through the night.
The darkness began to recede and I pulled back the earth, lifting out the bundle. I unwrapped the blanket and out tumbled a monsta, spiral spiral wheeeeeee, with waving worms like beautiful tentacles, grasping and feeling and swaying in the breeze. Monsta lay fallen, the crow foot scratching at the earth, the worms feeling up the side of the gravestone, a stunning undulation. I caught my breath at the beauty of this creation. I caught my breath and crawled back, watching.
It’s lopsided, said Amelia.
I twisted round. Amelia, Queen Isabella, Scholler. All three stood in waiting.
Don’t ruin this, I said.
I’d forgotten to cut the doll foot so it would be even with the crow foot, so Monsta was lopsided and walked kerlump-scratch, kerlump-scratch.
He’s lopsided, said Amelia.
It’s not a he, I said.
Then what is it?
It’s a monsta, I said, a pretty monsta dead thing. And dead things can’t die.
Soon it was up and kerlumping through the earth and the grass, all lopsided like Amelia said, all lopsided and perfect. The pigeon wings spread, creaking, stiff and awkward. Monsta hovered then fell.
Now you’re beautiful, I said.
Now you’re ugly, said Queen Isabella, puffing her chest, causing her grotesque brooch to quiver.
Now, I said emphatically, you’re a pretty monsta dead thing.
Monsta kerlumped to me, scratching at the earth. The black eyes roamed here and there, seeking me out, observing, considering. The worm-tentacles crawled through my fingers, pulling, slithering, climbing.
What happened to you?
Nothing.
You look a mess.
I’m going to the sea, ma.
I don’t have time for your stories.
I’m really going.
You are? About time your school evacuated the lot of you.
My school’s already gone. I’ll go with another one.
As long as you’re going. Go clean yourself up.
I will.
And wear a dress, for god’s sake. Don’t want the people by the sea thinking bad of me, do I?
I don’t have a dress.
You can have an old one of mine.
I didn’t want to wear a dress but I thought it would be a good disguise in case the Nazis saw me, so I got cleaned up the best I could and I put ma’s dress on. It was yellow, with flowers. It sagged at the chest and bunched up on the ground. I cut off a bit at the bottom, but didn’t manage the back, so it trailed, picking up the mud and dust, but it was a good disguise. I propped my gas mask on my head and stuffed my schoolbag full of treasures and books, mismatching socks, and shorts and shirts. I pulled on my old boots, raggedy boots that used to be David’s that had been mended a hundred times. I wrote David a note: I’m going to the sea. I’ll write and you can join me. Mermaids, krakens, pirates! I’m going on an adventure. Love, Goblin.
Monsta climbed into the bag, making a nest amongst the clothes, bits of worm and feathers and crow foot sticking out the top. We’re escaping, Monsta. The shrew eyes blinked sleepily. I hiked the bag onto my shoulder and went downstairs. I climbed out the back window in case the Nazis were watching at the door, waiting to kill us. Amelia, Scholler and Queen Isabella led me through the backstreets and alleys and I sang songs of the sea to Monsta, whose worm-arms flopped and swayed.
We’re going on an adventure, Monsta. An adventure to the sea.
Chapter 4
Edinburgh, 18 July 2011
‘How’d it go with the doc?’ says Ben.
‘She signed me off for a couple of weeks. I stopped off at work and chatted with my boss. She’s been pretty good about it.’
‘It’s good if ye have a decent boss.’
‘Can’t fault her.’
I sit down at my desk and slip off my shoes.
‘Are ye going to keep writing?’ says Ben.
I nod.
‘Why’d ye write on that beat up old typewriter when there’s a perfectly good laptop.’
‘The laptop’s for work. I prefer a typewriter.’