Arriving at the churchyard gate,
Frankie leaned his bike against the wall and removed a pair on hand trimmers
from the bag attached to his handlebars.
The grass in the cemetery was still wet and, going to the well-tended
headstone, Frankie picked his way trying to keep from soaking his school shoes.
"I’m here by myself today, Dad. I’m ditching school and Ma would be angry. I want talk to you about something that’s
more important.”
As the morning warmed, Frankie worked
carefully, weeding and trimming the grass around the stone monument. He paused and listened, but could no longer
hear the stream and thrush. A breeze
stirred, but almost silently, caressing Frankie’s face.
“Tommy Kennedy brought a dead rat to
school yesterday, Dad. It was dry and
stiff. He took it out of his lunchbox
and Mrs Quirk took it away and sent Tommy to detention. Me too.
Tommy wanted to trade if for my jack-knife, but I wouldn’t. You know, it’s boring in detention, but
better than a spelling lesson. Besides,
I found the rat outside the classroom window.
I’m giving it back to Tommy. It’s
his rat, innit?”
“Dad, you know that girl I was tellin’
you about, Lizzy Cooley, that girl with long braids and braces on her teeth?
Well, she smiled at me as I was going off to detention. She’s pretty an all, but I don’t
understand. What do girls want? Do you know?
I’m going to look for her in a little while, when it’s lunchtime at
school. She usually goes home. It’s not too far from here and I can catch up
with her on her way back. Should I tell
her I’ve got Tommy’s rat? Maybe she’d like to see it. Anyhow wish me luck, Dad. I’ll tell you all about it the next time I come
here without Mom.”
Frankie stood, crossed himself and
walked slowly away, turning once as he reached the gate. Again, a breeze touched his face. Unnoticed,
Marie, Frankie’s mother, stood still and silent in the shadow of the arched doorway
to the church. She watched as her son
closed the churchyard gate and swung up onto his bike.
The lane home from the churchyard was downhill. As he gained momentum, Frankie imagined his
bicycle was a swooping dragon. He and
his dragon would incinerate the school! (But only at lunchtime when nobody was
there.) Then something happened. The world went silent and, in that moment,
Frankie again heard the stream prattling on, but he began to understand the
water’s language. It was saying something
about Lizzy Cooley. The thrush agreed.