Coming up for Air- 第13部分

the　black　hand　broke　and　fled。　we　left　all　the　rods　behind　and　also　the　fish。　old　brewer　chased　us　half　across　the　meadow。　his　legs　were　stiff　and　he　couldn’t　move　fast；　but　he　got　in　some　good　swipes　before　we　were　out　of　his　reach。　we　left　him　in　the　middle　of　the　field；　yelling　after　us　that　he　knew　all　our　names　and　was　going　to　tell　our　fathers。　i’d　been　at　the　back　and　most　of　the　wallops　had　landed　on　me。　i　had　some　nasty　red　weals　on　the　calves　of　my　legs　when　we　got　to　the　other　side　of　the　hedge。

i　spent　the　rest　of　the　day　with　the　gang。　they　hadn’t　made　up　their　mind　whether　i　was　really　a　member　yet；　but　for　the　time　being　they　tolerated　me。　the　errand　boy；　who’d　had　the　morning　off　on　some　lying　pretext　or　other；　had　to　go　back　to　the　brewery。　the　rest　of　us　went　for　a　long；　meandering；　scrounging　kind　of　walk；　the　sort　of　walk　that　boys　go　for　when　they’re　away　from　home　all　day；　and　especially　when　they’re　away　without　permission。　it　was　the　first　real　boy’s　walk　i’d　had；　quite　different　from　the　walks　we　used　to　go　with　katie　simmons。　we　had　our　dinner　in　a　dry　ditch　on　the　edge　of　the　town；　full　of　rusty　cans　and　wild　fennel。　the　others　gave　me　bits　of　their　dinner；　and　sid　lovegrove　had　a　penny；　so　someone　fetched　a　penny　monster　which　we　had　between　us。　it　was　very　hot；　and　the　fennel　smelt　very　strong；　and　the　gas　of　the　penny　monster　made　us　belch。　afterwards　we　wandered　up　the　dusty　white　road　to　upper　binfield；　the　first　time　i’d　been　that　way；　i　believe；　and　into　the　beech　woods　with　the　carpets　of　dead　leaves　and　the　great　smooth　trunks　that　soar　up　into　the　sky　so　that　the　birds　in　the　upper　branches　look　like　dots。　you　could　go　wherever　you　liked　in　the　woods　in　those　days。　binfield　house；　was　shut　up；　they　didn’t　preserve　the　pheasants　any　longer；　and　at　the　worst　you’d　only　meet　a　carter　with　a　load　of　wood。　there　was　a　tree　that　had　been　sawn　down；　and　the　rings　of　the　trunk　looked　like　a　target；　and　we　had　shots　at　it　with　stones。　then　the　others　had　shots　at　birds　with　their　catapults；　and　sid　lovegrove　swore　he’d　hit　a　chaffinch　and　it　had　stuck　in　a　fork　in　the　tree。　joe　said　he　was　lying；　and　they　argued　and　almost　fought。　then　we　went　down　into　a　chalk　hollow　full　of　beds　of　dead　leaves　and　shouted　to　hear　the　echo。　someone　shouted　a　dirty　word；　and　then　we　said　over　all　the　dirty　words　we　knew；　and　the　others　jeered　at　me　because　i　only　knew　three。　sid　lovegrove　said　he　knew　how　babies　were　born　and　it　was　just　the　same　as　rabbits　except　that　the　baby　came　out　of　the　woman’s　navel。　harry　barnes　started　to　carve　the　word　——　on　a　beech　tree；　but　got　fed　up　with　it　after　the　first　two　letters。　then　we　went　round　by　the　lodge　of　binfield　house。　there　was　a　rumour　that　somewhere　in　the　grounds　there　was　a　pond　with　enormous　fish　in　it；　but　no　one　ever　dared　go　inside　because　old　hodges；　the　lodge…keeper　who　acted　as　a　kind　of　caretaker；　was　‘down’　on　boys。　he　was　digging　in　his　vegetable　garden　by　the　lodge　when　we　passed。　we　cheeked　him　over　the　fence　until　he　chased　us　off；　and　then　we　went　down　to　the　walton　road　and　cheeked　the　carters；　keeping　on　the　other　side　of　the　hedge　so　that　they　couldn’t　reach　us　with　their　whips。　beside　the　walton　road　there　was　a　place　that　had　been　a　quarry　and　then　a　rubbish　dump；　and　finally　had　got　overgrown　with　blackberry　bushes。　there　were　great　mounds　of　rusty　old　tin　cans　and　bicycle　frames　and　saucepans　with　holes　in　them　and　broken　bottles　with　weeds　growing　all　over　them；　and　we　spent　nearly　an　hour　and　got　ourselves　filthy　from　head　to　foot　routing　out　iron　fence　posts；　because　harry　barnes　swore　that　the　blacksmith　in　lower　binfield　would　pay　sixpence　a　hundredweight　for　old　iron。　then　joe　found　a　late　thrush’s　nest　with　half…fledged　chicks　in　it　in　a　blackberry　bush。　after　a　lot　of　argument　about　what　to　do　with　them　we　took　the　chicks　out；　had　shots　at　them　with　stones；　and　finally　stamped　on　them。　there　were　four　of　them；　and　we　each　had　one　to　stamp　on。　it　was　getting　on　towards　tea…time　now。　we　knew　that　old　brewer　would　be　as　good　as　his　word　and　there　was　a　hiding　ahead　of　us；　but　we　were　getting　too　hungry　to　stay　out　much　longer。　finally　we　trailed　home；　with　one　more　row　on　the　way；　because　when　we　were　passing　the　allotments　we　saw　a　rat　and　chased　it　with　sticks；　and　old　bennet　the　station…master；　who　worked　at　his　allotment　every　night　and　was　very　proud　of　it；　came　after　us　in　a　tearing　rage　because　we’d　trampled　on　his　onion…　bed。

i’d　walked　ten　miles　and　i　wasn’t　tired。　all　day　i’d　trailed　after　the　gang　and　tried　to　do　everything　they　did；　and　they’d　called　me　‘the　kid’　and　snubbed　me　as　much　as　they　could；　but　i’d　more　or　less　kept　my　end　up。　i　had　a　wonderful　feeling　inside　me；　a　feeling　you　can’t　know　about　unless　you’ve　had　it—but　if　you’re　a　man　you’ll　have　had　it　some　time。　i　knew　that　i　wasn’t　a　kid　any　longer；　i　was　a　boy　at　last。　and　it’s　a　wonderful　thing　to　be　a　boy；　to　go　roaming　where　grown…ups　can’t　catch　you；　and　to　chase　rats　and　kill　birds　and　shy　stones　and　cheek　carters　and　shout　dirty　words。　it’s　a　kind　of　strong；　rank　feeling；　a　feeling　of　knowing　everything　and　fearing　nothing；　and　it’s　all　bound　up　with　breaking　rules　and　killing　things。　the　white　dusty　roads；　the　hot　sweaty　feeling　of　one’s　clothes；　the　smell　of　fennel　and　wild　peppermint；　the　dirty　words；　the　sour　stink　of　the　rubbish　dump；　the　taste　of　fizzy　lemonade　and　the　gas　that　made　one　belch；　the　stamping　on　the　young　birds；　the　feel　of　the　fish　straining　on　the　line—it　was　all　part　of　it。　thank　god　i’m　a　man；　because　no　woman　ever　has　that　feeling。

sure　enough；　old　brewer　had　sent　round　and　told　everybody。　father　looked　very　glum；　fetched　a　strap　out　of　the　shop；　and　said　he　was　going　to　‘thrash　the　life　out　of’　joe。　but　joe　struggled　and　yelled　and　kicked；　and　in　the　end　father　didn’t　get　in　more　than　a　couple　of　whacks　at　him。　however；　he　got　a　caning　from　the　headmaster　of　the　grammar　school　next　day。　i　tried　to　struggle　too；　but　i　was　small　enough　for　mother　to　get　me　across　her　knee；　and　she　gave　me　what…for　with　the　strap。　so　i’d　had　three　hidings　that　day；　one　from　joe；　one　from　old　brewer；　and　one　from　mother。　next　day　the　gang　decided　that　i　wasn’t　really　a　member　yet　and　that　i’d　got　to　go　through　the　‘ordeal’　（a　word　they’d　got　out　of　the　red　indian　stories）　after　all。　they　were　very　strict　in　insisting　that　you　had　to　bite　the　worm　before　you　swallowed　it。　moreover；　because　i　was　the　youngest　and　they　were　jealous　of　me　for　being　the　only　one　to　catch　anything；　they　all　made　out　afterwards　that　the　fish　i’d　caught　wasn’t　really　a　big　one。　in　a　general　way　the　tendency　of　fish；　when　people　talk　about　them；　is　to　get　bigger　and　bigger；　but　this　one　got　smaller　and　smaller；　until　to　hear　the　others　talk　you’d　have　thought　it　was　no　bigger　than　a　minnow。

but　it　didn’t　matter。　i’d　been　fishing。　i’d　seen　the　float　dive　under　the　water　and　felt　the　fish　tugging　at　the　line；　and　however　many　lies　they　told　they　couldn’t　take　that　away　from　me。

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PART　Ⅱ…4


for　the　next　seven　years；　from　when　i　was　eight　to　when　i　was　fifteen；　what　i　chiefly　remember　is　fishing。

don’t　think　that　i　did　nothing　else。　it’s　only　that　when　you　look　back　over　a　long　period　of　time；　certain　things　seem　to　swell　up　till　they　overshadow　everything　else。　i　left　mother　howlett’s　and　went　to　the　grammar　school；　with　a　leather　satchel　and　a　black　cap　with　yellow　stripes；　and　got　my　first　bicycle　and　a　long　time　afterwards　my　first　long　trousers。　my　first　bike　was　a　fixed…　wheel—free…wheel　bikes　were　very　expensive　then。　when　you　went　downhill　you　put　your　feet　up　on　the　front　rests　and　let　the　pedals　go　whizzing　round。　that　was　one　of　the　characteristic　sights　of　the　early　nineteen…hundreds—a　boy　sailing　downhill　with　his　head　back　and　his　feet　up　in　the　air。　i　went　to　the　grammar　school　in　fear　and　trembling；　because　of　the　frightful　tales　joe　had　told　me　about　old　whiskers　（his　name　was　wicksey）　the　headmaster；　who　was　certainly　a　dreadful…looking　little　man；　with　a　face　just　like　a　wolf；　and　at　the　end　of　the　big　schoolroom　he　had　a　glass　case　with　canes　in　it；　which　he’d　sometimes　take　out　and　swish　through　the　air　in　a　terrifying　manner。　but　to　my　surprise　i　did　rather　well　at　school。　it　had　never　occurred　to　me　that　i　might　be　cleverer　than　joe；　who　was　two　years　older　than　me　and　had　bullied　me　ever　since　he　could　walk。　actually　joe　was　an　utter　dunce；　got　the　cane　about　once　a　week；　and　stayed　somewhere　near　the　bottom　of　the　school　till　he　was　sixteen。　my　second　term　i　took　a　prize　in　arithmetic　and　another　in　some　queer　stuff　that　was　mostly　concerned　with　pressed　flowers　and　went　by　the　name　of　science；　and　by　the　time　i　was　fourteen　whiskers　was　talking　about　scholarships　and　reading　university。　father；　who　had　ambitions　for　joe　and　me　in　those　days；　was　very　anxious　that　i　should　go　to　‘college’。　there　was　an　idea　floating　round　that　i　was　to　be　a　schoolteacher　and　joe　was　to　be　an　auctioneer。

but　i　haven’t　many　memories　connected　with　school。　when　i’ve　mixed　with　chaps　from　the　upper　classes；　as　i　did　during　the　war；　i’ve　been　struck　by　the　fact　that　they　never　really　get　o