Will Self - The Book of Dave

Carl fingered the broken jagged top of the Davework and looked back towards the island, now wholly encompassed by the ragged edge of the sea. How small it was, and how vast were the waters; if they chose to — if they could will such a thing — they might simply stretch a little and swamp it for ever. The Davework was real: it had a single, enigmatic figure 7 incised in it. Carl recalled the one moving thing in Luvvie Joolee's chamber besides its inhabitant's grooved lips. As she had droned on about the PCO, her husband's sectaries, the politicking of the Guilds — matters of which Carl could not even begin to frame a comprehension — he had watched the dial of the meter. A black stick was pegged to its centre, and when the Exile began the stick was aimed at a 6; when she finished at 7.

The Sentrul Stac mounted from the waves as the Hamstermen's pedalo drew closer. While from the island it gleamed in the foglight, near to it had a dark and impenetrable appearance. The shaggy, shit-spattered greenery merged with glossy seaweed at the point where the swell washed its flanks. The mephitic fumes of the birdshit enveloped them. There were also strange hanks and even coils of a nacreous substance Carl couldn't identify encrusting the base.

— Wossvose? he asked his stepdad, who had shipped his pedal and come forward.

— Vem? Fred laughed. Vemiz oystahs, mì sun, oystahs. Gúd eatin, yeah, we av em on fowlin trips, but we nevah taykem bak oam.

— Y nó?

— Coz vey iz lyttul creetchus an U gotta suckemup alyve, innit.

— Vare 2 taystë 4 ve mummies Bsydes, put in Fukka Funch, an vay lookabit lyke cunt, wooden wannem gettin ennë Ideers!

There was a shout of laughter from the other dads. The separation from Ham was having a paradoxical effect on them: they were all craven in the face of the mighty sea and the sweeping wind, yet dävine and pagan alike felt the dead weight of the Driver's hand lift from them, and this led to ribaldry and defiance. That psychic melding that had occurred a generation before on the voyage to Chil half happened again, and the Hamstermen experienced a complete accord with one another, sniggering and jibing, slapping and teasing the lads.

Fred Ridmun brought them to order, and they pedalled the vessel in below Blakk Stac, which stood about half a click from the Sentrul Stac. Here, in a patch of dead water, they could wait out the hours until darkness, when it would be time for Carl to make the leap.

— Vat Dryva, said Sid Brudi, chewing meditatively on a piece of curried moto as the pedalo rocked gently on the swell, ee stopsus wurkin awl ve tyme, ven sez ee wansus 2 B maw produktiv.

— Yeah, his brother Dave chimed in, maw produktiv but ee wansus 2 getridov ve motos. Iss nó rí.

Carl looked from one thin, green-eyed Brudi to the other. He thought of Salli, and unbidden a memory came to him, of the two of them assisting motos to mate. Salli smearing Gorj's folds with moto oil, while he, crouching beneath Runti's great sagging tank, guided his tiny cock in.

— Wotevah U fink abaht ve Dryva, said Fred Ridmun, breaking in on Carl's reverie, ee az ve faredar, ee nose ve runs an ve poynts. U ló ardlee no nuffink. Nuffink. We ad bettah caul sumovah nah 4 Daves lukk, yeah?

This appeal to the Hamstermen's religious instincts had the desired result: they put aside their takeaway and, gathering themselves into two cabs — one at the stern, one in the bow — they began to call over. Carl was joined by Fred and four other dads. Äteen! cried Bill Edduns, and Fukka Funch — who had the knowledge of this one — commenced: Leev on leff Marryleebo, leff alsop playce, leff baykastree, forrad pormanskware … The arcane words drifted over the waves, and some inquisitive oilgulls came spiralling down from their nests on the Blakk Stac. The fowl floated alongside the pedalo and called over their own rasping Knowledge.

It wasn't until lampoff that the Guvnor halted the calling over. The Hamstermen stowed their gear and took to their pedals. Slowly, the pedalo came out from behind the Blakk Stac and crept over the booze-dark swell, silvered at its peaks by a dipped headlight. Hunched in the bow, wrapped in his cloakyfing, Carl felt little fear. Ever since the pedalo had cast off, in this more compact version of Ham, this floating islet, he felt once again the tight and affectionate enclosure of his early childhood. Whether the jump killed him or not, he was at least accepted.

Where the long skeins of oysters scraped at the sea there were streaks of phosphorescence. A milky deliquescence of birdshit hung in the water at the base of the Sentrul Stac. High above the pedalo in the purpled darkness, the Hamstermen sensed the sleeping blackwings — not so many as there had been earlier in the season, but, from the comings and goings through the long second tariff, they knew there to be thousands. A remorseless coo-burbling was caught by the breeze and flung down to them.

— Ears ve roap. Fred hung the heavy, moto-oiled hank around Carl's neck and shoulder. U jump, U grab, U clyme. Wunce U R up on ve Stac, ve clymin iz eezee Enuff slongas U doan slippup. Upontop yul fynd ve stayk eezee Enuff 2.

— Eye no, Dad, Eye no, Carl broke in. U toll me iofowzan tymes awlreddy.

The pedalo nosed in closer and closer, until Carl could make out the first ledge, a man's height above the top of the highest swell. When the bow was only three paces away, he rose. Fukka grabbed the seat of his jeans, and Carl buckled his belt over the hank of rope. His arms were grasped firmly by the Guvnor so that Carl could place his right foot on the stempost. Carl relaxed his legs as the pedalo nosed still closer. Dave B wiv U! came the whispered invocation from the dads, and then, as the pedalo reached the top of a wave, feeling his centre of gravity shift to the point of no return, Carl flung himself into the darkness.

Two days later, when, with the tinting screen, the pedalo came wallowing round the eastern cape of Ham and headed for Manna Bä, the anxiety among the waiting mummies had reached a dangerous level. They knew there had been no injuries on the trip, because kids had been dispatched each morning to the giant's gaff on the margin of the Gayt, from where the top of the Sentrul Stac could be clearly seen. If one of the fowling party had been injured, the dads would have scraped away some of the cap of shit on the summit. Yet this did not discount the possibility of a fatality, for there was no point in giving any warning of such a dread eventuality. If a dad had died on the expedition, then the mourning would be both extreme and protracted. As the pedalo drew closer, the mummies made ready to rend their cloakyfings and beat their brows. A widow would swoon and feign death herself for the first blob. She would take no food and accept only water trickled through a sphagnum sponge. She would soil herself and lie prostrate. The exigencies of tending her — together with the funeral calling over for the dead dad — would paralyse the working life of the community; so, in part, the Hamsters' worry was not simply for the loss of a beloved but also a fearful anticipation of these privations.

Bert Ridmun waded out into the chilly water to hail the returnees: Orlrì?! And when his dad's voice boomed back, Orlrì! a whoop went up from the Hamsters on the shore. Another few units and they saw that the gunnels of the vessel were within a hand's breadth of the waterline, so overloaded was it with blackwings. Carl was standing up in the bow, a triumphant grin on his face. As the keel grounded on the sandy shingle, he leaped into the waiting arms of the Hamsterwomen, who petted and caressed him with many tender cries. Salli Brudi was with them, and she had a special intensity as she brushed his cracked lips with the back of her freckled hand. Looking up from the unaccustomed cuddle, Carl was confronted by the mirror: in it were the hooked beak and mad yellow eyes of the Driver. The old crow glared hatred at the lad. Nevertheless, he understood the situation well enough: in the Hamsters' minds such bounty drove out any thoughts of Breakup for the moment. The Driver turned and stalked away towards the Shelter.