Captain Mack (4 page)

SEVEN

First period next day was History. Danny always enjoyed History, mainly because of Mr Cullen. Unlike some of the teachers at St Lawrence's, he was actually excited by his subject. Often he'd get so involved in the point he was making that fifteen minutes later he'd be talking about something completely different. Once he went from the search for the Inland Sea to the diet of certain sea-birds in no time flat, and afterwards couldn't remember how he'd done it. He'd never apologise, though. He'd just smile and say, “Anyway, where were we before I got all carried away?”

After class Danny went up to speak with his teacher. Mr Cullen was humming quietly as he wiped the board clean.

“Hi there, Daniel,” he said as he put the duster down. “How's the ear?”

Danny held it between finger and thumb and gave it a firm wiggle. “Fine now, thanks. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Ask away.”

“Was there a Seventy-second Highland Regiment?”

“With a name like that it would have to be Scottish, wouldn't it?”

“I think so.”

Mr Cullen sat on the edge of his desk and thought. “Look, to be perfectly honest, I don't know. Why are you asking?”

“I met this guy — an old guy. He lives in a nursing home.”

“No better place to find an old man should you need one,” Mr Cullen joked. “And this man was in the Seventy-second, was he?”

“That's what he told me. I think he said something about Burma. Thing is, he's a bit …” Danny tried hard to think of a nice way to say what he was thinking.

“A bit vague?”

“Yeah, vague. So I just wanted to know, I guess.”

Mr Cullen looked at his watch. “He's probably telling you the truth, but I wouldn't know for sure. But we'll have to discuss this further another time, Daniel, since your bell's about to go.”

“Oh, right. Well, thanks anyway, Mr Cullen.”

That afternoon Danny visited Captain Mack again. He found him walking in the garden.

“Afternoon, sir,” Danny said.

Captain Mack turned slowly to look at him. “What's that ye said?”

“I said ‘Good afternoon, sir'.” Danny glanced around to make sure that no one was watching and then gave a quick salute.

“Right. Good afternoon to ye too, lad.”

Danny stood straight and still, waiting.

“Well? What is it ye want, lad?” Captain Mack asked.

“It's me, sir. Remember? Snell — Private Snell.”

“Or, right ye are. Sorry, lad, I quite forgot myself.” Then it was Captain Mack's turn to glance about. He lowered his voice. “We can't talk here, Snell — whatever were ye thinking? They're reasonable people, but it's still very risky. Meet me back at the mess hut in five minutes. We can talk safely there.” Then he turned and walked in the direction of his unit, casting furtive glances as he went. Danny waited for a short time before following.

He knocked on the door. It creaked and opened a crack. “Right, in ye come then,” the old man said, stepping back.

When Danny was safely inside, Captain Mack closed the door and turned to face him. “So, what is it ye want this time?” he asked again.

“I just came to visit you, that's all,” Danny replied. “Sir,” he added quickly, remembering.

“Tell me, did ye manage to contact Tierney, lad?”

“I'm afraid not, sir.”

“Well, ye needn't worry about him for the moment,” Captain Mack said. “Word is that he's been heard from, and he's holding his own for now.”

“That's good,” Danny replied.

“Thought ye'd be pleased. He's a brave lad. Tough, too. If they bring him down they might as well send everyone home, because it'll be over for sure.”

“I see.”

“I'm sure ye do. Now, I suppose ye want to drink my tea too, eh?”

“No. I mean, yes, if you like, sir.”

“Very well then. I'll just get Cook sorted, shall I?”

Danny reached into his school bag. “I brought biscuits,” he said, holding out the gingernuts he'd bought at the station.

Captain Mack took the packet carefully, turning it over and inspecting it closely with his left eye. Then he looked up at Danny. “How'd ye get these?” he asked, sounding amazed.

“I bought them.”

“Off one of the guards?”

“Um —”

“Be careful dealing with the guards, lad. They're a savage and disloyal bunch.”

“I was very careful, sir,” Danny said.

“I'll get us some tea right off,” said Captain Mack, and he disappeared into the kitchen.

Danny went over to the bookcase and looked closely at the photos lined up along the top. One was of two small children, another was of a young couple standing in front of a small white house. There was also a yellowing photo of a much younger Captain Mack. He was wearing a suit and a bow tie, and was standing beside a pretty young woman in a wedding dress. There was no eye patch. And on the wall hung a picture of the same woman, only this time quite a bit older. There was nothing in the room to suggest that Captain Mack had ever been in the army, although Danny wasn't sure what he'd expected to find. A gun, maybe, or a case of medals. A hat or a sword, perhaps.

Captain Mack startled him as he came in from the kitchen with two cups of tea, one gingernut resting on each of the saucers.

“One biscuit each,” he said, as he rested the cups on the coffee table. “True to form, Cook's rationing the rest.”

“How was our friend today?” asked Ellie as she pulled on her jacket and picked up her bag.

“He was rationing the biscuits I bought,” Danny answered.

Ellie just threw her head back and laughed.

“When can I come and meet this guy?” Caleb asked as they approached the school gates.

“What for?”

Caleb chuckled. “Because he sounds funny.”

“I'm not visiting him because he's funny.”

“Why, then?” Caleb asked, the amusement dissolving from his voice.

“I don't know, really. It started off with Tierney, I guess, but now I just go along because I like it. And he likes it as well, I think.”

“Well, tell him that as soon as I'm not grounded any more, I'll be along to visit too. I might dress up as this Tierney bloke, just to see his face.”

“Don't make fun.”

“You're right — bad joke.”

Danny walked into Mr Cullen's history class and sat in his usual spot. Mr Cullen walked over as the last of the other boys were coming in and placed a folded scrap of paper on Danny's desk. Then he winked and smiled.

Danny opened the note. It said:
72
^nd
Regiment
—
Seaforth Highlanders (Duke of Albany's). Burma, 1942-44.
He tried to catch Mr Cullen's eye, but he already had his back turned and was writing on the board.

It was then that Danny sensed someone watching him. He looked to his right. Shaun had a half smile on his face. He didn't even try to pretend he hadn't been attempting to read the note from across the gap between the desks. Danny immediately refolded the paper and tucked it safely into his shirt pocket.

EIGHT

Dad tossed the tea-towel onto the kitchen bench and sat down at the table. He smiled across at Danny. “This is nice, huh? Haven't seen much of you this week.”

Danny picked up his knife and fork. “Looks good,” he said. Dad had done chops for dinner, and he always cooked them perfectly.

“So what's been going on? Haven't been on detention again?”

Danny shook his head. “So far so good.”

“Anything else?” Dad asked, pouring gravy over his chops.

“I went to see where Ellie works the other day.”

Dad nodded. “Right. How was that?”

“Good. I met this old man. I think he used to be in the army.”

“Really? Where.”

“Burma, I think. I'm not sure, really.”

“Prisoner-of-war?”

Danny nodded as he chewed his lamb.

Dad laid his knife and fork on his plate and folded his hands under his chin. “Does he talk much about it?”

Danny shrugged and sipped his drink. “No, not really. He's a bit funny sometimes, like he thinks he's still there.”

Dad picked up his fork again and stabbed at his peas. “I know I probably don't need to remind you of this, Dan, but I hope you're giving this man the respect he deserves.”

“Of course.”

“Good lad,” Dad said. “Son, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about, but I don't want you to get your hopes up.”

“About what?”

“I know how desperate you are to get this final operation done.”

Danny watched him, waiting.

“So I got an appointment with Dr Granville for next month. Hopefully he'll say that your eye is ready.”

“Do you think? I thought it was going to be a few more months at least.”

“Look, I don't know, mate. But I see how miserable it makes you, and I want to get this problem dealt with just as much as you do. I don't like seeing my son come home from school upset because some little horror has been making fun of something he can do nothing about. So let's find out if we're ready.”

“OK, let's,” Danny replied. “I guess he can only say no, huh?”

“Correct. No promises, all right? Like you say, this is earlier than the original appointment, so it may be too soon.”

“Yeah, OK.”

Dad reached across the table and squeezed Danny's hand. “Let's keep our fingers crossed, then.”

At Captain Mack's, Danny was always served black tea, and was never offered more than one biscuit. The curtains were always drawn, and often, when Danny spoke too loudly, Captain Mack would shush him before going to the window to peek out. Tierney was still bravely holding his own, and apparently did not require help of any kind at present. And every time he went, Danny greeted Captain Mack with a snappy salute, which was always returned.

But one day Danny knocked on the door of the unit and found Captain Mack behaving differently.

“Hello, lad,” he said. “Snell, isn't it?”

“That's right, sir,” said Danny, saluting.

The gesture was received with a slightly raised eyebrow from Captain Mack, who did not salute in reply. “Right. Come in. Tea, then?”

“Yes please, sir.”

“Take a seat and I'll be right with ye,” Captain Mack said, and he left Danny to go into the kitchen.

When he returned, Danny asked him how Tierney was doing.

Captain Mack frowned. “What would possess ye to ask a question like that?” he asked, sinking into his chair.

“I'm interested, that's all. Have you heard from him lately?”

Captain Mack looked rather unimpressed. “Ye're toying with me, aren't ye, lad? Making fun —”

“No —”

“Well, it's not funny, ye realise. I do hope ye realise that.”

“I didn't mean to upset you,” Danny apologised.

The old man's face looked sad and stem. “Tiemey was brave, Snell — braver than ye or I will ever be — so there's no call to be talking about him like he's still with us.”

Danny was finding this hard to understand. “Has … has Tiemey died, sir?” he asked.

“What do ye think?” Captain Mack's voice suddenly had a hard and frightening edge to it. His tone was like nothing Danny had heard from him before, not even the day they'd first met in the garden.

“When did he die?” Danny asked cautiously.

“It was a lot of years ago, Snell. Too many. He'd be almost eighty now, ye know. But then …” He took a deep breath. “But then, what can ye do?”

It was the first time Danny had heard Captain Mack talk about the war like it was all over, and this sudden clarity was confusing. “So did Tiemey die in Burma, sir?” he asked quietly, almost fearfully.

Captain Mack looked directly at Danny. His face was now less stern than sad, and his voice was low as he spoke slowly. “If it's all the same to ye, young Snell, could we talk about something more cheery — like the weather, for instance?”

“Sure. Sorry,” Danny mumbled, looking past the wide-open curtains to the sunny garden. He sipped his tea.

But it wasn't tea at all. It was just hot water.

As usual, Ellie asked Danny about his visit.

He shrugged and said nothing.

“Well? How was it?”

“I don't know anymore,” he said. “He didn't salute, he knew the war was over, and he didn't want to talk about any of it. I think that this time he actually knew where he was. Could that happen?”

“Sure, sometimes it's like that with old people,” Ellie explained. “They're with you one day, somewhere else the next. You come to expect it. Don't let it get you down.”

“I'm not. I'm just confused.” He didn't even bother to tell her about the tea.

“I wonder if ye'd do me a favour, lad,” Captain Mack asked quietly, suspiciously casting his eye about the garden.

“What's that, sir?”

“I know it's a strange request, but I'm running short on hair cream. It's a little hard to come by around here, as I'm sure ye know.”

“Hair cream?” Danny asked, eyeing Captain Mack's thinning hair. “Where do I get that?”

Captain Mack sounded impatient. “Well, I don't know, lad — ye're the one with the outside contacts.”

“Oh, right. Well, I'll see what I can do.”

“And razors. I need razors, if ye can get hold of them.”

“Sure, I can find those OK”

Captain Mack nodded and started to turn away. “Well, do what ye can, lad. I'd best be off before we raise suspicion. Ye know — eyes and ears …”

“Yes, sir,” Danny said, saluting crisply. “Eyes and ears.”

The following Monday Danny met Caleb at their usual spot, beside the newspaper stand. “Come on, let's go,” he said.

“What's the hurry?” Caleb asked, stuffing his walkman into his bag.

“I've got to get some supplies.”

“Supplies? What kind of supplies?”

“Hair cream and razors.”

Caleb grinned and reached out to stroke Danny's face. “Didn't know you'd started shaving,” he teased. “It's very smooth.”

“Cut it out! They're for Captain Mack.”

“Where are you going to get them?”

Danny pointed across the street. “Safeway.”

Small groups of boys from St Lawrence's were heading from the station towards the school, and Caleb eyed them with a concerned look. “Can't it wait till after school?”

“No, I might forget. It'll only take a minute.”

“We're going to be late. We've got the Fat Controller first up.”

“Come on,” Danny said. “It'll take longer if we stand here arguing.”

The supermarket was almost empty, except for a man stacking shelves, the woman at the checkout, and a couple of older boys buying chewy.

“Over here,” Danny said, seeing the toiletries section to one side. He paused in front of the razors as he studied the selection.

“Come on,” Caleb said, glancing over his shoulder at a group of boys crossing the street from the station. “Hurry up, all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, hang on,” Danny said, picking up a twelve-pack of double blade razors with a lubricating strip. “What do you reckon about these ones?”

“Sure, whatever,” Caleb said. “Let's just go.”

“Oh, wait, maybe these ones are better — they're for sensitive skin.”

Caleb looked at his watch and shook his head. “Mate, I'm going — I can't afford to be late for Whaley's class.”

Danny ignored him. “Yeah, these are better,” he said.

“Good, I'm glad,” Caleb said as he walked away. “See you soon.”

“You right there, son?” the checkout lady called out.

“I'm looking for hair cream,” Danny answered. “Hair cream?”

“Yeah, for … for my grand-dad.”

“Just to your left, love.”

Danny looked over what was there — gels, sprays, shampoos and conditioners, but no hair cream.

“Are you sure you've got it?” he asked.

The woman came over. “I thought we did,” she said. She muttered to herself as she scanned her eyes along the shelf. “Will this do?” she asked at last, picking up a tube of super-hold gel.

Danny took it and read the label carefully. “I guess so,” he said.

As he got to the checkout he looked across the road to the station overpass. Normally there'd have been a couple of St Lawrence's boys straggling, heading reluctantly towards the school. It alarmed him to see that this time there were none at all. The overpass was empty.

Danny arrived for Science almost ten minutes late, and was heading quietly for a spare seat near the side when Mr Whaley stopped his droning.

“Good morning, Mr Snell,” he said in a terse voice. “Decided to join us after all?”

His brain stuck firmly in automatic, Danny spun around, snapped to attention and saluted as smartly as he could. “Yes, sir!” he replied loudly.

The entire class burst out laughing. Mr Whaley's eyes looked like they might explode right out of their sockets. “Excuse me?” he said, his voice disturbingly controlled and menacing. “Did you
really
just salute me?”

Danny felt his skin go hot and cold and the blood drain from his face as he realised what he'd done. “I'm … I'm sorry, Mr Whaley,” he stammered. “I didn't mean that.”

“Disrespect such as that is intolerable, Mr Snell. And I'm afraid it's far too late for apologies.” Mr Whaley pointed to the doorway. “You can wait outside Dr Partridge's office until I've finished this class, since I don't have the time to brief him right now.

“But —”

“Go!”

As Danny turned to leave he noticed three faces in particular. Shaun and Grant were staring straight at him and grinning widely, while Caleb was biting his lip and staring hard at the top of his desk.

Dr Partridge peered over the top of his glasses. “This kind of behaviour surprises me coming from you, Daniel. There are boys of whom I'd expect it, but you're not one of them. Would you like to explain?”

Danny attempted to speak, but no voice came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I … I didn't mean to salute, sir. It was an accident.”

“It's a peculiar kind of accident though, isn't it — saluting someone by mistake?”

“Not really, sir.”

Dr Partridge raised just one eyebrow. “I'm listening.”

“Um … It's going to sound stupid, sir.”

Dr Partridge said nothing, waiting for Danny to continue what was sounding more and more like a very elaborate lie. A very elaborate and clearly ridiculous lie.

Danny took a deep breath and plunged in. “You see, sir, I have this friend who makes me salute whenever I see him. I guess … I guess it's just become a habit.”

Dr Partridge smiled with his mouth but his eyes remained deadly serious. “You'll need to do a bit better than that, Daniel.”

“It's true though, sir. He used to be in the army, and he's a bit —”

“Slow down, son.”

Danny took another deep breath “He's a bit old, sir, and he likes me to salute. And I guess I just got mixed up. That's all.”

“That's all?”

“You see, I'd stopped at the supermarket on the way to school to buy him razors and … and some stuff for his hair, and that's why I was late. I didn't mean to be late, but I guess I was thinking about him when Mr Whaley …” He hesitated.

“Mr Whaley what?” Dr Partridge prompted.

“Well, the way he spoke reminded me of the way Captain Mack talks — you know, kind of cranky, I guess — and I automatically saluted him. You know, without thinking.”

Dr Partridge pushed his chair back and stood up. “Captain who, did you say?”

“Captain Mack. That's what they call him. I've forgotten his real name. McSomething. He was in Burma during the war. It's true, sir — ask Mr Cullen if you don't believe me.”

Dr Partridge put up his hand. “No, I believe you, Daniel. I expect Mr Whaley will understand when I talk to him about this. What he does about the lateness to class is up to him, but I think we can probably overlook this saluting business.”

“Oh, thanks,” Danny said, feeling his shoulders relax a little.

Dr Partridge smiled, using his eyes as well this time. “But I think that maybe you should be a little more careful about who you salute in the future, hmm?”

“Yes, sir,” Danny answered. He didn't even come close to saluting Dr Partridge.

“That was close.” It was obvious that Caleb was trying hard not to laugh.

“It's not funny,” Danny said, biting into his apple.

“Well, I think it's hilarious. You should have seen the Fat Controller's face.”

“I
did,”
Danny replied. “I thought he was going to pop. Anyway, I still got a detention for being late.”

“When is it?”

“In about five minutes.”