Where Bones Dance: An English Girlhood, An African War

High

High W e are in the casuarina tree, smoking its needles through a straw. “Christopher said banana peels work too, if you dry them well enough.” A coconut is bobbing on the oily surface of the lagoon. Dave sucks hard at the straw then coughs. “Well this isn’t working.” “How do you know?” “Because your eyes go red and you get real hungry and everything looks different and you laugh a lot.” “Different how?” I know she knows because her sister Jenny did it once and Dave caught her and made Jenny let her try it out. I try to imagine Jenny with red eyes seeing things differently but I can’t. She presses her shirt every day for school and she wears her hair in a ponytail high up on the back of her head. I want to know what it’s like to see things on drugs. 123 124 Dave passes me the straw. “The edges of things look different,” she says. “Now?” We are looking at Red, who is sitting on the veranda. He yawns and lies down. “No,” she says, “this isn’t working.” “I see things different anyway,” I say. “Oh yeah? Like what? What’s that?” She points at the coconut. “A coconut.” “Looks that way to me.” “That’s not what I mean.” “What do you mean?” I can’t say anything because I can’t breathe and it is dark. Then I say, “Sometimes I go up to the ceiling and I watch everything that happens. Did you ever do that?” “Like what kind of things?” Dave pinches out the sparks at the ends of the needles. “I don’t know. Just everything.” I know that isn’t good enough. “Like when you’re snorkeling and you look down at the bottom of the sea and you see a stone and the stone moves and it’s a fish, a poisonous fish not a stone. You’re swimming above and you can see everything is moving, nothing looks like what it is.” “You’re weird. Let’s go capture Jerry and Bill.” We tie them to the washing pole. “You’re the enemy,” I say, “and we’re going to torture you.” I speak to Dave in code. “We’re going to paint you with honey and leave you for the ants unless you tell us the secret,” she says. Bill looks like he is going to cry. “We’re not telling you anything,” says Jerry. “You’re girls.” “Oh yeah,” says Dave. “Take that back.” She tickles Jerry in the ribs until he chokes. “Take it back.” C y c l e 2 He shakes his head so she tickles him again until he says, “O.K., O.K. I take it back.” “So now,” I say standing very tall, looking at both of them, “tell us the secret or else.” I take a handful of mud from the flowerbed and hold it very close to Bill’s face but I don’t touch him with it. Waiting is the worst part. Dave practices karate chops around Jerry’s head. “I’m going to tell Mum on you,” says Bill. “Cry baby. Tell-tale. You know what happens to tell-tales? Your eyes will fall out and your tongue will grow so big there won’t be room for it in your mouth and it’ll hang out.” I stick my tongue out all the way down to my chin and let dribble run off it. Dave says, “Let’s go and leave them here.” “Yeah,” I say, “I guess they’re just lackeys who don’t know anything anyway.” We begin to walk away. Bill is crying in little baby snorts. Jerry doesn’t cry. “Tell you what though, if we set them free they could gather information for our side.” “Even if it just sticks to them.” “Like ants in honey.” “Cos they’re too dumb to get it any other way.” “Why not?” Dave turns to them. “We have decided, just this time, to release you. Next time you’d better have more information.” “Well, what do you say?” I stop in front of the knot. “Well? Say thank you.” “Thank you,” Bill mumbles. “Gee, thanks.” Jerry says it sarcastically but we ignore that because Mrs. Lee’s car just turned into the driveway. After they are gone I climb into the casuarina tree again...