me.)
But the skull guy just laughs.
And he was like, “I’m Laf, who the hell are you?”
So I go, “I’m Carl. What kind of name is Laf for fuck’s sake?”
And he was like, “Watch it mate,” only he was laughing, know what I mean? And he goes, “It’s short for Olaf. It’s a warrior’s name, alright? I’m a warrior of Dunner I am.”
Which I’ll tell you what, back then I didn’t know what the fuck he meant but I didn’t want to look like a prat or nothing so I just go, “Warrior of Dunner, huh?” (You know, American and that).
And he laughs and goes, “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you mate?”
So I go, “No I don’t, mate, but I reckon you’re talking out of your arse.”
But he just kind of looks round the pub at the blokes slagging each other off by the pool table and at the kids arsing about on the machines and at that old slag Dora with her wrecked fucking face who comes in every night and drinks till they chuck her out.
So he looks all round-right?-and then he looks back at me and he’s like, “This place is shit isn’t it?”
And I’m like, “Yeah?” Because, like, I can see what he means in a way but I drink there every bloody night.
And he goes, “Want to come and meet some of my mates?”
And I’m, “Yeah okay.”
And he’s, “Only I’ve taken a liking to you Carl. I liked the way you came over like that. More bottle than your mates there.”
Well then we walk straight out past Shane and Derek and they’re like trying to make out it’s hysterical-yeah?- but really they’re bloody gobsmacked, aren’t they?
And Derek goes, “Where the fuck are you going Carl?”
But I don’t know, do I?
Laf’s got his car out there-it’s like a really old Mondeo-and, it was well good, we ton across the estate at 90, with the windows down and the music on full blast (Well the police don’t bother with the Fields at night, only if there’s a riot or something.)
And we go up Thurston Road, right up near the wire where there is them three big old tower blocks-yeah?- which are all sealed off and that because they’ve been like condemned. (I mean: they’ve always been condemned and sealed off like that since I was a kid, because of asbestos or something, I think.)
Me and my mates, we’ve tried to get into those places but they’re like not just boarded up they’re steeled up- yeah?-with metal plates and that. Only it turns out that Laf and his mates have managed to get into one of them called Progress House. Like there’s a kind of service door or something round the back which it still looks like it’s locked up but they can get in and out, yeah?
Inside it was really dark and echoey and it smelt of piss. You couldn’t see nothing but Laf goes charging off up the stairs: one floor, two floors, three floors…
“Wait for me,” I go.
But Laf just laughs and he’s like, “You’ll have to get fitter than that, mate, if you want to be a warrior of Dunner.”
Those places are like twelve stories high, yeah? Which right at the top they’d opened up a flat. You could smell the puff smoke from a floor below. Which there’s this room in there, like a cave-yeah?-with candles and that, and weird pictures on the wall, and there are Laf’s mates, three of them: one fat bloke in one corner, one really evil- looking bloke with greasy black hair in the other corner and then this boffy-looking fucker in the middle. And he’s got glasses on and he’s rolling up a spliff.
“Good evening,” he goes, really posh. And he’s like, “Welcome to Progress House. This is Gunnar” (that was the fat one), “this is Rogg and my name is Erik. Delighted to make your acquaintance.”
I look at Laf and I’m like, “Who the fuck is this?”
And Laf don’t say nothing in words but he’s kind of frowning at me-right?-like he’s going, “Respect, man! This geezer is well hard, know what I mean?”
(Which, like, he’s got a skull all over his face!)
Erik laughs, “A word of advice, Carl. Laf has chosen to let you into our little secret. We do that from time to time, because we are, well, we’re missionaries in a way.” (I didn’t know what he was talking about at first. I thought missionary meant, like, sex with the geezer on top, know what I mean?)
“But if you were to reveal our secret to anyone else without our permission, goes boffy Erik, “I personally will kill you. I mean that quite literally. And I assure you that what I have just said is not a threat but a promise.”
And Laf is like, “He means it, mate, he’s well evil. He’d kill a bloke, no sweat at all.”
And Erik laughed really pleasant-yeah?-like some posh bloke on the telly.
You would not believe all the gear they had up there, yeah? We did E’s and A’s and M’s and C’s and fuck knows what else until the walls were wobbling like jelly-yeah?-and it was like Erik was talking into this blob of jelly from outside somewhere, down some tube or something.
“Have you heard of Dunner, Carl?” he goes. “Or Thor, some call him?”
And I’m like, “… er, no, don’t think so, mate…”-right?-like I’m talking up this tube?
“Well, he used to be big around here,” goes Erik. “Thurston means Thor’s town for one thing. Did you know that? Come to that he’s got a whole day of the week named after him. Thursday means Thor’s day.”
“Yeah,” goes Laf, “and Wednesday’s named after his dad, right, Erik?”
“That’s right,” goes Erik. “Woden’s day.”
And I’m like, “… Yeah?” (Which if anyone else had come up with this shit I would just have laughed, know what I mean?)
“Dunner or Thor,” goes Erik, “is the god of thunder. And he’s a warrior god. His weapon is a big hammer which crushes anything it strikes. As I say, he used to be big around here. Your ancestors would have worshipped him. They would have sacrificed to him too, animals and even human beings. So you can see they took him very seriously indeed.”
And I’m like “So?” but I don’t say nothing.
“And now,” goes Erik, “here is another secret. But this one I am happy for you to tell who you like. Because it’s the government who wants it kept as a secret. It’s the politicians and the do-gooders. It’s them who don’t want anyone to know.”
Well the room was as big as a fucking football pitch now-right?-with that Erik talking over the p.a. in a big echoey voice like God or something.
“Do you think about the universe at all, Carl?”
“As in, like, the sun goes round the earth?” I go. “Stars and that?”
Erik does his nice TV laugh.
“That’s it, Carl, you’ve got it in one. Stars and that. But listen and I’ll tell you something. The whole of this universe of stars and space is just one tiny twig in an enormous tree and every second, every fraction of a second, it’s branching and dividing, making new worlds.”
I laughed. But-it was weird, yeah?-I could fucking see it. Only it didn’t look like a tree. More like millions of black worms in the dark that kept on splitting in two and splitting in two and splitting in two-yeah?-like viruses or something.
“There are millions of other earths, millions of other Englands, millions of other Thurston Fields estates,” he goes-and like I said, he’s like God or something, I couldn’t even see him with all the E’s and A’s and shit going round me, just hear his big echoey voice all round me.
“And we don’t come from this one,” he goes, “Laf and Gunnar and Roeg and I, we’re shifters, we come from another world. Anytime we want to we can go to another world too. So we can do what we want here. We can do whatever we want. No one is ever going to catch us.”
