A Belfast Easter Present

My room is in darkness. It isn’t the kind of darkness where the demons could hide in a corner and I could see their shadows. No, this was more a scary darkness where nothing could be seen.
What really frightened me was that Mum had caused this blackness. The bedroom door had been open a little bit when she tucked me into bed.
“ Now you get to sleep, there’s no school tomorrow, but that isn’t an excuse to lie awake. So get your head down.”
She went to the window and pulled down the black window blind, then drew across the curtains.
“You’ll be all right now, we have to make sure the bad men don’t see the light.”
What light, I thought, as she closed the door and left the room.
Gran keeps telling me that bad men always love the dark. She’s always quoting from the Bible, stories of evil people that do bad things in the dark. So why can’t she and mum agree on what the bad men like?
I wonder do all big people treat six year olds as stupid. My teacher thinks all the boys in my class are as thick as mud, even though my best mate Billy is always playing tricks on him.
Mum doesn’t know about the torch under the pillow, well, she pretends she doesn’t. I’ve got a comic here so I’ll have a look at what Desperate Dan is doing. Actually I know ‘cause it’s an old one that I have read before. They stopped selling them when the war started.
The blind doesn’t keep out the noise. Wonder what that screaming sound is? There is another noise that I can’t place, sounds like those bees that were on the farm Dad took me to. Haven’t seen much of him lately; Mum says he’s home on leave. Whatever that is.
Dad lifts me from my bed, trailing the bedclothes with me.
“C’mon son, gotta go, gotta go.”

He carries me into the street where my Mum is waiting.
“Into the shelters,” shouts the policeman.
“ No bloody way,” Dad yells back at him.
Dad could have been arrested for swearing at a policeman!
“ Chrissie, get into the house,” he shouts.
I’m scared, Dad doesn’t usually shout at Mum.
The bright lights in the sky hurt my eyes. Dad calls them searchlights, but he wont tell me what they are searching for.
He shoves us into the space under the stairs. There is a stinking smell coming from all that wood he had put there. Support bracing he called it. Then we lie down on the mattress Mum had put on the floor last week. It is very lumpy and sticks into my back. I can’t breathe because Dad is lying on top of me, and he wont get off, even though I’m shouting and crying.
He never hurt me like that before; maybe he doesn’t love me any more.
I fall asleep.

Mum’s shaking me. Doesn’t hurt, she’s always gentle.
“C’mon son, its over. Put on your clothes and shoes.”
She must have got them from my bedroom.
There’s glass everywhere, our windows lie broken in the parlour. Dust is covering everything, my bike looks a mess.
Mum holds onto my hand to guide me past the broken glass on the floor, I’m glad I’ve put on my shoes. We run down the hall into the street.
There must be thousands of people moving about. Everyone seems to be doing something. Water is spouting from the ground into the air, just like it does in the fountain at the park. The whole street appears to be on fire. Dad is helping to clear stones from where the shelters used to be. He turns round and sees us, at the same time I see a wee arm sticking out of a pile of bricks. I want to run away.

“Chrissie, you shouldn’t be here with the young lad, go back inside.
Mum is annoyed with him, “Jack, there’s no water or lights in the house and I can smell gas. We’re better out here.”
She looks around, and whispers, “ Was that Mrs Devine’s wee boy in the rubble?”
“Chrissie be quiet, Jackie will hear you. Yes, the whole family was in the shelter. It took a direct hit.”
They think I don’t hear them, but I do.
The lady from the Salvation Army comes marching down the street followed by a lot of my mates and their mums.
She shouts over to my mum, “We’re going round to the hall for the rest of the night. Are you coming?”
I hear Dad say we should. Mum takes me over to her.
“ Take the wee lad, I’ll stay here and give a hand.”
Mum gives me a hug and off I trot with the rest of my mates. As I turn the corner I look back and see Mum and Dad working among the dirt.
I’m still frightened.

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