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| Bonfire image created with https://creator.nightcafe.studio/ |
My writing class prompt this week was to write about Halloween. I did a Halloween story last year and I didn’t want to write about Halloween this year. We didn’t
celebrate it growing up (although it’s taken off in the UK now). Our celebration
was called Bonfire Night, November the 5th. People nowadays light bonfires in memory of
Guy Fawkes, who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605. A human
effigy, called a Guy, is placed on top of the bonfire. However, the tradition
dates back to the Celtic feast of Samhain, when the veil between the spirit
world and our world is thin.
Note: A Recce is a recreation area [play area for kids]. An
allotment is a personal garden that is not attached to a house.
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“Penny for the Guy,” Mark says hopefully.
The shopper turns and stares at the boys sitting on the flagstones
in front of Woolworths. “Call that a Guy? It’s just trousers and a cardigan sewn
on a pillow.”
“Ain’t got no money,” Andy explains. Andy’s body has begun
the process of growing up. At eleven he’s almost a foot taller than the two
ten-year-olds beside him.
“If you buy a Guy Fawkes mask for it, I’ll give you fifty
pee.”
“Wor, fanks,” Andy says, catching the heavy coin.
“Bonfire night’s tonight,” she says. “Get a shift on.”
When she’s out of earshot, Andy says to Sid, “Nick a mask
from Woolies. Save us a bob or two we can spend on fireworks.”
“I’m not nicking noffink,” Sid says. “Buy a mask, and me
sister will sew a pillow for the head and put the mask on it and we’ll be
laughin’.”
“He’ll burn good and proper,” Mark says.
“We need more wood for the bonfire,” Sid says. “I know an
empty house with wooden floors.”
*
The bonfire is behind Mark’s house, in a Recce near the
allotments. There’s nothing nearby
except clumps of Fireweed that sprang up after last year’s celebration. Sid’s
mum has a shed in her allotment, and that’s where they keep the fireworks.
As Mark arrives with the last armful of floorboards, Sid and
Andy are arguing. Sid’s refusing to put his new-found floorboards against the
half-built cone.
“Me Dad said you shouldn’t actually build the bonfire until
day of,” Sid was explaining. “We have to move it and pile the wood up again.”
“It’ll take too long,” Andy replies.
“Day of. Or it’s bad luck or sa’ink, I dunno. But me dad said…”
“Your dad’s dead,” Mark says.
Instantly, Sid’s eyes redden. “What’s that got to do wiv it?
Being dead don’t make you wrong.”
Seeing the smaller kid about to cry, Andy switches sides. “Come
on, Mark. Maybe Sid’s dad has a point.”
“Had,” Mark says, sotto voce. Sid doesn’t notice.
“How far are we moving it?” Andy says.
“He just said ‘build it on the 5th, not before,’”
Sid says.
“Move it…what…six feet toward the house. That way we can use
a pallet as the new base.”
Andy drops a wood pallet in the new spot. The kids grab the
wood and start building a new cone.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Sid suddenly shouts. “I caught me hand on a
nail.”
“You should wear gloves,” Andy says from his lofty height.
Sid feels between the two planks. “It’s not a nail.” He
reaches into the dark interior of the woodpile. Rolls something out.
“It’s a hedgehog,” Mark says.
“I can see that,” Sid says.
“It’s all in a spiked ball, like in a kid’s book.”
“I can see that,” Sid says.
“You have to take it home and feed it milk and bread,” Andy
says.
“Why? I don’t think mummy and daddy hedgehog fed it milk and
bread,” says Sid.
“Hedgehogs are mammals,” Mark says, knowledgeably. “They eat
milk.”
“I’ll put it in a cardboard box in the shed,” Sid says.
“Until the fires are all out and the smoke’s gone.”
“That’s what your dead dad meant, innit,” Mark says. “He
meant don’t burn wood until you know what’s under it.”
Sid nods and resumes stacking floorboards on the new pile.
It’s getting dark. In two hours, Sid’s sister will bring out the Parkin and Bonfire Toffee. His Mum will open the box of fireworks and hand out sparklers to the little ones.
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