The Ocean: a Novel by James Hanley

Author:James Hanley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504005692
Publisher: Open Road Media

VII

“You’re frightened,” Curtain said.

“I’m not.”

“You’re frightened,” Curtain said. “You’re a rat.”

“I’m not frightened,” shouted Benton. “I’m not,” the blood rushing to his face, his whole being throbbed with protest.

“Shut your mouth. I told you to keep away from that man,” Curtain said. “You’re frightened, and the old man isn’t. That’s the difference between you. Stone was frightened, too. Once.”

They were seated opposite each other, Benton’s swollen feet dangling, ugly under him. He was hot and tired, sweating, his arms ached, his hands were blistered. Curtain’s eyes never left him.

“I told you you could row,” he said. “You can row. Better than any of us. That’s better than lying around like a mongrel dog, isn’t it? Only trying to do the best for you. Your girl in Somerset won’t be any more excited than my missus when she hears I’m safe. And don’t go imagining things that aren’t there. Upsetting people. Yesterday I was looking at you lying there and I said to myself, ‘Lumme, nobody’d miss you if you went over the side.’ I like that priest better than you. And listen,” pressing down on the other’s shoulders, “when I first dragged you fellers off that rope you were no more than dead herrings to me. I couldn’t even see who the hell you were, it was that dark, then my mate got killed, and then in the morning I saw you all and you didn’t look tuppence to me, and that’s telling you straight.”

Benton studied the black bearded face, the heavy chin, the open shirt collar, the red, scarred neck.

“You didn’t believe I was right, did you? You told the others a lot of damned lies, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t. I was scared,” Benton said.

Benton remembered things very clearly, even coming down the rope in the darkness, falling in a heap, being sick, waking when the light came, seeing the sailor standing there looking at them all. Remembered his name being taken. He had been a little afraid then. It had made him think of being drowned, his name in a book. He couldn’t swim, he’d be drowned. His name would be in a newspaper. Dead. He remembered rowing with Gaunt after the sickness had passed, his feet in water for a long time, heavier than lead, trying to pull him down, down. Sitting with the priest, seeing nothing but water, even clouds appeared to him as though they’d fall into the boat and turn them over. How they would all be in the sea, swimming, trying to swim, seeing in the midst of all this a house in Somerset, his girl crying. He remembered Gaunt talking to himself as he rowed, shouting out in his sleep. His head was badly cut, the sailor had bandaged it up. He didn’t remember hearing Gaunt say, “If we drown, he’ll drown, too,” meaning Curtain.

He looked down at his feet now and laughed. “I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid,” he kept repeating in his mind. He wondered why his feet had swelled, he thought of the gargoyles he had once seen outside a church in Somerset.

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