Robert Swindells: Daz 4 Zoe

Its like she sez. i seen her and dam near got a hartatak. We run togevver and clingon and i forget abowt danger and all that.

So we clingon and i sez wot thay call you. Zoe she sez. i never herd ov it. i tel my name Daz and she larfs. wots funny i sez and she sez Daz thats a washing powda. wel i sez. Zoe sownd like a littel animal or somfing and we boaf larfing.

lots more tork we done that firs nite. Magic it was only no magic in my riting so i stop now. you reed wot Zoe put, you be ther.

Yes, that’s right – shove it all onto me, Daz. Typical flaming Chippy, as Dad would say.

Ah, but he’s right. It was magic. It was. I know it sounds corny and all that, but you really do get so wrapped up in each other you forget everything else. I mean, the guy was risking his life just being there and we didn’t even think about it. We were within a few yards of the perimeter fence, a double fence with a floodlit walkway between. All suburbs have them, and every now and then security men patrol the walkway. They operate in pairs, some with dogs. They all carry automatic weapons and a Chippy seen anywhere near a fence after sundown is liable to get shot. There’d be TV cameras dotted about as well, and guys in a post somewhere watching screens. The lights had just come on and there’d be a patrol any minute and there we were, him with this big yellow disc on his overall and a Subby girl in his arms, horsing around and laughing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It’s a wonder either of us lived to tell the tale.

When we finally came up for air, Daz steered me toward a drift of rubble which would hide us from the fence. The floodlights created a pool of deep shadow on our side of the drift so that we’d be practically invisible if anybody came along, which was unlikely. We found a couple of big stones and sat down on them, holding hands.

There was so much to learn. So many things we didn’t know about each other. He began telling me how awful it had been, thinking about me day and night, not knowing whether I was thinking of him, and I said it’d been the same for me. He asked how old I was and I told him I was nearly fifteen, though my birthday’s in February and that was five months away. He said he’d just gone fifteen.

‘D’you go to school?’ I asked. I knew Chippies don’t have to go, some do, some don’t. He told me he got thrown out and when I asked why he grinned and said, ‘Fooling around – thinking about you when I should’ve been thinking about my lessons.’

I nodded. ‘I got in trouble for that too, but chucked out – that’s a bit rough, surely?’

He shrugged. ‘Big city. One school. Plenty kids waiting to go. I was gonna quit anyway.’

‘What for? I mean, what d’you do now?’

‘Nothing. I wanted to join Dred, only they turned me down.’

‘You wanted -.’ I looked at him. ‘Why’d you want to be in a terrorist organisation, for pete’s sake?’ I realised I knew pitifully little about him.

‘Why?’ He looked down, hacking the dirt with the heel of his trainer. ‘They topped our Del for a kickoff. And I hate Subbies.’

‘I’m a Subby.’ Yes, I told myself. And here I am sitting in the dark with the guy. How do I know he’s not fixing to cut my throat? I wasn’t scared, though. I couldn’t believe he’d hurt me. It was unthinkable.

‘Yeah.’ He loosened a small stone and flicked it away with his toe. ‘I know. That’s how come they knocked me back.’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘They saw us. You and me. At the club. They’ve got me figured for a Subby-lover.’

I nodded. ‘My so-called friends’ve taken to calling me Chippy-lover.’

‘Why?’ He gripped my hands so tight it hurt. ‘Do they know about me?’

‘No.’ I tried to free my hands. He realised what he was doing and relaxed his grip, but he seemed about to jump up and run.

‘No, they don’t know about you. How could they? I didn’t know about you myself till tonight, did I? And if I had, d’you think I’d have told anyone? I’m not a fool, Daz.’

He chuckled, shaking his head. ‘Okay, Zoe. I’m jumpy, right? They find me here, I die. For a minute I thought -.’

‘Listen.’ I looked in his eyes. ‘I think you better go soon, anyway.’ He’d laughed, but his reaction had reminded me of the risk he was taking. I told him he’d better go but I didn’t want him to, and so to keep him I said, ‘Who was Del?’

‘My brother. He was fifteen.’

‘And they – executed him?’

‘Topped him, yeah.’

‘What for.’

‘Dred. Here in Silverdale two years back. I said I’d get even.’

‘And will you?’ I didn’t want to know the answer to that. I don’t know why I asked. He shrugged.

‘Dunno. Spect so. Have to wait and see, won’t we?’

He got up, so I did too. Muted voices and the clop of boots on cement told us a patrol was passing and we stood quietly till the sound receded.

‘Listen,’ I murmured. ‘You better not come here again, Daz. It’s too dangerous, but how am I going to see you?’

He shook his head. ‘I dunno, Zoe. There’s only the tunnel. I gotta see you.’

‘Maybe I could come to you.’

‘D’you drive?’

‘No. You’ve got to be seventeen.’

‘How, then?’

‘I don’t know. Listen. Is there some way I can get a message to you?’ Mail service is confined to the suburbs and so is the phone, so I wasn’t going to be able to write or call.

He thought for a minute, then said, ‘Mebbe.’

‘How?’

‘You know the guys who take your trash?’

‘Yes I do, but – hey – you mean they’d take a note or something? Wouldn’t they get in trouble?’

He laughed. ‘Who’s going to find one little bit of paper on a trash truck? You slip ’em a little cash, they take your note. Tell ’em Daz at the Black Diamond. It’s a club.’

It was obvious when you thought about it, but to me right then it was a wonderful discovery. A lifeline. A means of communication where I’d thought there could be none. For one thing, it meant we could part tonight without too much anguish. It still wouldn’t be perfect but it would be bearable.

And that’s it. The story of our first date. I told him I’d think of a plan and write him, and meanwhile he was to look at the moon each night at ten and I’d be looking at it, too.

Romantic, right? And easy, because everything was going to be so much better now. So much better. Except that after he insisted on seeing me safely on to a well-lighted road, and kissed me, and melted away in the shadows, my blissful sleepwalk home was shattered first by a shout somewhere behind, then by that unmistakeable ripping noise an auto rifle makes.

I tried to tell myself it had nothing to do with Daz but I knew better, and so after that one brief, ecstatic interlude it was back to square one, only worse.

i kist her and it made me feel so grate i forgot wear i was. Not 4 long thogh. I’m walking under trees, finking i’m okay in the dark and all, wen sudenly this dazler hits me in the face and a voice sez hold it rite ther.

i’m blind but not darft. i hang abowt, this guy eever gonna shoot me or ast 4 my seeit witch i haven’t got 1. Eever way it com 2 the same fing so i run, nor i dont know wear i run neever.

He dont mess about. i’m dodging frou the trees and he showt somfing and start shooting. bullits ratling twigs. i’m so scairt i cant fink. i run and tork like this – wear the tunnel o god wears that godam tunnel. i’m crying if you wanta know. Sum basted shoot at you, you cry 2.

if this guy coud shoot i’m ded rite now. if he foller me, same. He cant shoot and he dont foller, but wen the shooting stopt i know he be calling his mates on radio. soon be milyons of em lucking 4 me. i run til i seen the fence then cut left along it, blowing and torking that tunnel o god wears it gon. Soon i’m in piles of muck and trash and i fink this is it – that tunnel come owt somwear hear. jus then i hear a big noyz and its a fan coming innit. Fans got spotlites plus masheenguns. jus wot i need i dont fink. Fan coming in low over the fence and i seen it spotlite racing over the grownd and i fink this is it lad – you ded now 4 shor, but just then i seen the tunnel. i’m ded nackerd but i run 2 it and get in nor i dont give a monkeys about no miner tour neever.