And he goes, “It’s Clifton Village mate, where the rich people hang out.”
“The beautiful people,” goes Rogg with, like, an evil sneer.
Then Gunnar puts his arm across my shoulders-yeah?-like he’s my dad or something.
And he’s like, “How’s this place make you feel, my old mate?”
And I’m like “How would I fucking know?”
“Angry maybe?” goes Gunnar kindly. “Does it make you feel angry at all mate?”
And I’m, “Nah, I don’t give a shit,” like with a shrug and that.
And then I go, “Yeah, alright, angry then.”
“That’s the way, my old mate,” goes Gunnar, “That’s the way.”
Which he’s still got his arm round me like he’s my dad or my kind uncle.
“Now listen, Carl mate,” he goes, “how would you like it if you could do whatever you wanted here?”
And I’m like, “Eh? What d’you mean?”
“How would you like it, Carl,” goes Rogg, “if you could smash these shops and burn these cars and fuck these women and blow away any of these smug bastards you wanted?”
“Yes, how would you like that my old mate?” goes Gunnar.
“Well of course I’d like it,” I go, “but you’re having a laugh with me, aren’t you? You’re just winding me up.”
“No,” goes Rogg, “no wind-up, Carl. It’s what we’re planning to really do. And I’ll tell you the beauty of it. The beauty of it is we’ll have swallowed seeds, so when the police come along we can just laugh and let them lock us up, because we’ll know that in an hour or two we’ll be in a different world and they won’t ever be able to get us.”
And it’s like it finally dawns on me, yeah? It dawns on me for the first time. If you’re a shifter you can really do shit like that. That’s what it would mean to be a warrior of Dunner.
So a big smile spreads over my face-yeah?-and I’m like, “Sweet, man! Fucking sweet!”
“And you can be there,” goes Rogg. “You can be there with us if you want to, if you’re willing to take the test, like.”
And I’m going, “Yeah, no problem, mate, no sweat at all,” when this old geezer comes walking past and suddenly stops, like, and looks at me.
“Well, well,” he goes. “Carl Pendant isn’t it? What a nice surprise! Do you remember me? Cyril Burkitt? How are you doing Carl? It must be all of 15 years.”
And he, like, smiles at Rogg and Gunnar-yeah?-like any friend of Carl’s is a friend of his. (Which Rogg don’t say nothing, and Gunnar’s like “Alright, mate. How you doing?”)
And I’m like, “Oh alright, you know, mate” and that.
Which he’s only my old social worker I used to have when I was in care and that. Which they’re all wankers but I sort of liked the bloke. He didn’t never get funny with me or nothing-yeah?-like I remember one time when I’d fucked up as per bloody usual and he says to me “You just don’t get it do you Carl?” and I go “No I fucking don’t” and he laughs and he’s like “Well that makes two of us I’m afraid Carl.”
Anyway, old Cyril Burkitt looks at Rogg and Gunnar again and he’s like, “Well, I won’t keep you from your friends Carl. But I’ll tell you what, I’m retired now. If you fancy calling by for a chat sometime you’d be very welcome. I don’t see such a lot of people these days, you see, so I’m always glad of company. And I’ve often thought about you over the years and wondered how you were getting on.” And he gives me this little card-yeah?- with his address and that.
Well then I notice Rogg and Gunnar looking at each other with, like, a funny secret sort of look.
Which I’m like, “What?”
“A deskie, right?” goes Rogg.
And I’m like, “Yeah.”
Which they look at each other again-yeah?-and sort of not.
“Well that’s your test then, Carl mate,” goes Gunnar.
And I’m like, “What is?”
And Rogg goes, “Go to his house, Carl, and kill him.”
Well I thought, “This is a joke, yeah?” So I’m laughing and I’m like, “Oh, he’s not that bad, not for a deskie, know what I mean?”
And Gunnar goes, “No Carl mate, you don’t understand. That’s your test! See what I mean, mate? It’s what you’ve got to do to become a warrior. Are you with me, my old mate?”
“You’s got to make a sacrifice for Dunner,” goes Rogg.
Which, like, they’re just looking at me-yeah?-and waiting.
And I go, “Shit!”
And Gunnar goes, “Fair enough if you don’t want to do it, Carl mate. No hard feelings or nothing. But if you do want to be a warrior, well, that’s the test you’ve got to pass. Know what I mean?”
So I like swallow-yeah?-and I’m thinking, like, well, all deskies are the same really. Alright some of them act nice and that but it don’t mean nothing. Which anyway the stupid git, if he goes round giving out his address and that, some fucker’s going to get him-yeah?-and if it’s not me it’s going to be some bugger else. So it don’t make no difference really anyway.
So I laugh-yeah?-and I go, “Yeah, alright. I’ll do it.”
So Laf-right?-he takes me over in the car the next day to the place where Cyril Burkitt lives. (Which it’s like another part of town which I never heard of. Only I never really been nowhere much outside of the Fields as such, except down the Centre-yeah?-to clubs and that and once we went over to Weston on a school trip and Shane had six pints of lager and threw up all over the teacher.)
And he stops like a couple of streets away and he’s like, “Now it’s along there and then turn right and it’s number 23, right? So don’t get lost will you, Carl?’
Which I’m like, “Fuck off,” you know, like laughing and that to show I’m not worried or nothing.
So I start to open the door but he’s like, “Hang on a minute, Carl mate. You’ll need this, you prat!”
Then he gives me a gun as such and it’s like, “This is the trigger, mate, and this is the safety catch, and this is a silencer so there won’t be any loud bangs or nothing. And listen, mate, there’s ten bullets in there, so when he’s down, empty the lot into the bastard, know what I mean? Into his head and that, yeah?”
Which I’m like, “No worries mate.”
He laughs and lights up a spliff for me.
“I don’t need no wacky baccy to give me the bottle for this job mate,” I go. “It’s no problem mate. It’s no sweat.”
And he’s like, “No Carl, I’m not being funny or nothing, mate. It’s just, like, to make it more of a laugh, yeah? Know what I mean?”
Then I’m outside Cyril Burkitt’s house-yeah?-and it’s doing my head in because I never really thought he had a home or nothing, know what I mean? He was just a deskie, yeah? And, like there’s a car outside and flowers and that, and a milk bottle, and there’s, like, a little path from the gate made of bricks, and coloured glass in the front door: red and blue and green. And through the front window-right?-there’s this big room with loads of books and that. Which I can see him in there-yeah?-reading the paper by himself. And there’s music playing, yeah? Violins and that.
So I ring the bell, and he looks up and sees me through the window. Which he, like, smiles and gets up and comes to the door.
“ Hello, Carl! This is a nice surprise! I didn’t think you’d come. I didn’t think you’d have the time for an old deskie like me!”
He’s got like a cardigan on, and brown slippers and, like, old-man jeans, and he hasn’t shaved yet or nothing. He don’t look like a deskie, really. Just some old geezer, know what I mean?
“Come on in, Carl, come on in. Can I get you a cup of tea or something?”
And I’m like, “Yeah, thanks, tea.” So we go through into this big kitchen like on telly or something with like wood everywhere and a stone floor and that.
Which he gets the kettle and goes over to the sink to fill it up.
“Let me see now, Carl, is that milk and four sugars? Have I remembered that right?”
Then he turns round smiling and sees the gun in my hand.
