Titanic 2020: Cannibal City

19 Pain and Laughter

Jimmy's nose was definitely broken, but he was refusing to have it reset — partly because he wanted something to remind him not to be such an idiot in the future, to keep his big mouth shut, but mostly because he knew it would be extremely painful to have it physically snapped back into place. Anyone who had seen him climb repeatedly from the floor of the makeshift boxing ring would not have dreamed of saying that he was scared of pain, but everyone has their limits. They had all seen him knocked down for the sixth time. Much as they hated him, they could not help but be both sympathetic and impressed. Even though his eyes were swollen almost shut; his nose broken, his lips thicker and bloodier than they had ever been before and he was weaving around the ring like a drunk, he had kept coming back for more. Even the boys who hated Jimmy the most were beginning to rebel against Mohican's screamed instructions to hit him again, and harder. One, who'd acquired the nickname Thumper from somewhere, simply refused to hit Jimmy again; at which point Mohican jumped into the ring, hurriedly pulled on a pair of boxing gloves and flattened Thumper. Then he laid Jimmy out cold.

Jimmy lay flat out on his back in the dirt of the yard outside the barracks. The rest of his troop stood looking down at him, not sure what to do. Then Mohican appeared with a bucket of freezing water and threw it over him. The shock of it forced his eyes open as wide as they could go, which wasn't very wide at all. He coughed and spluttered and coughed up blood.

'OK!' Mohican cried. 'All of you have worked hard. Go eat!'

Jimmy lay where he was while the others ran towards the mess hall. They hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, largely thanks to him. Mohican crouched down beside him. Jimmy tensed up, expecting a dig in the ribs or a poke in the eye.

'You did well, son.'

Jimmy grunted.

'Brave. Now listen to me. In a war you have to be able to depend on the man next to you. You have to work as a team. Disciplined. Follow orders. We don't need mavericks. Mavericks get killed, and cause others to get killed. You understand?'

Jimmy nodded. It hurt.

'Now get over to First Aid, get yourself cleaned up.'

Mohican stood up and walked away. Jimmy lay where he was. He was a little groggy still, and a lot confused. Mohican had sounded almost human.

No, I was probably mistaken. Perhaps I have brain damage.

Jimmy lay where he was for another five minutes before forcing himself up on to his knees. He was groggy. He stood. Dizzy. He began to stagger along towards the First Aid hut. His route took him past the mess hall. The food smells almost made him throw up. He was aware of being watched as he passed the open doors. He looked straight ahead. It took all of his strength to walk in a straight line and upright.

When he reached the First Aid hut the nurse who'd scolded him previously took one look at him, then quickly guided him to a bed and made him lie down. She fetched a sponge and a basin of water and began to wash the worst of the mud and blood from him. He thought he heard her mutter, 'He's a monster,' under her breath. She definitely said, 'I will need Dr Moore to come and reset that nose.'

That's when he told her no, to leave it as it was.

'It'll set crooked,' she said.

'Fine,' said Jimmy.

'Up to you.' She gave him some painkillers and told him to try and sleep for a while until they took effect.

'Don't need to,' Jimmy whispered. She turned to pick up some ointment for his lips. When she turned back he was fast asleep.

It was late evening when Jimmy woke, stiff and sore. His nose was thick with dried blood and his head ached. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, inadequate for the size of the room and leaving a third of it in shadow. The other beds were empty, the nurse's station deserted and, when he checked, the doctor's small office at the far end was locked. But he heard the scrape of a chair from outside, and when he peered out he saw that the wild-looking girl he'd previously stolen food from was back, sitting in exactly the same place and position — or perhaps she'd never left. He didn't remember her being there earlier but, truth be told, he remembered very little from earlier — besides the fact that he'd taken a beating.

Jimmy opened the First Aid hut's door and stepped on to the wooden surround. He shuffled along to where the girl was sitting at the white plastic picnic table. She had an identical tray of food before her, again untouched.

'It's OK,' said Jimmy, 'I'll not be stealing your food tonight, not with these lips — unless you mash it up and blow it into my mouth through a straw.'

She continued to stare into the distance.

'Do you mind if I sit down?'

There was no reaction. Jimmy pulled out a chair and sat. It was a pleasant, warm evening, with a light breeze. The girl was wearing a plain white nightdress. Her hair was still as dank as before.

'So, what's your problem? A wee touch of the plague? No?' Nothing. 'Ah well, sometimes silence is best.'

He looked out across the camp. The floodlights were on. The barracks huts were shut up for the night. The plain beyond the perimeter fence was dark and uninviting, except for when the spotlights swept across it, when it became bright and uninviting. How was he ever going to be able to escape? And if he did attempt it, what would they do if they spotted him — drag him back into the fort, or shoot him as he fled?

He smiled across at the girl. 'Maybe the two of us could dig a tunnel? Or I could send you out first, then when they're busy shooting you I could slip away? No? You don't say much, do you? They looking after you OK? You know — you're quite pretty, aren't you? I wouldn't normally say something like that in a million years to a girl I'd never met before, but seeing as how you seem to have all the brain activity of a plank of wood, I don't see how it can do any harm. Of course you'd probably need to comb your hair. And wash the dried-on drool off your face. But look at me — what an oil painting I am, eh? Hey relax, seriously. I have a girlfriend. She's just not aware of it yet.' Jimmy drummed his fingers on the table and stared into the distance. 'In fact, chances are she's dead. Still, that's no big thing these days, is it? Everyone's dead. Mum, Dad, family, friends. Yours as well, do you think? No — you don't have to tell me. Claire, that's her name. We hated each other at first, then we liked each other, then I put my two big feet in it and she hated me again, and then we got split up and...'

He pictured her lying in the woods, helpless, bleeding to death. He imagined the minister finding her, raising his gun, finishing her off.

'. . . I think it may have been my fault.'

A few hundred metres away the guards were just climbing down from one of the watchtowers, and their replacements were waiting to go up. If all of the towers changed at the same time, that might have given him an opportunity to dash across the plain unnoticed. But they weren't that stupid. The changeovers were staggered five minutes apart so that the surveillance was never interrupted. Jimmy sighed.

He studied the girl again.

'You know something? I bet I could make you smile.'

Nothing.

'I'll bet you a kiss I can make you smile.'

Nothing.

'I know one of the worst jokes in the history of the world, but I bet you won't be able to resist it. OK — if you smile, I get a kiss, deal?'

She stared ahead.

'Right, if you say nothing, I'll take that as a yes. If you shake your head, it's a no. So, do we have a deal?'

There was no reaction.

'OK, excellent. You're a challenge, I'll give you that — but I reckon I'm up to it. Here we go, are you ready?' Jimmy moved his chair slightly and leaned forward until he was so close that she could look nowhere else but straight into his eyes. 'Anyone ever tell you you've got nice eyes? Well, one of them anyway. The other's a bit crossed. Only joking. Can you have one crossed eye? All right — here we go. What did the big chimney say to the little chimney?' He waited. Ten seconds. Nothing.' You 're too young to be smoking!'

Nothing.

'OK,' said Jimmy. 'A tougher nut to crack than I thought. I'm going to have to wheel out the big gun. This joke — this joke makes the other joke look really pathetic. This joke saves lives. Are you ready? I'm warning you — you may die laughing.'

Nada.

'OK. Did you hear about the fella went to the doctor's and said he thought he was turning into a pair of curtains? Doctor told him to pull himself together!'

Jimmy examined her pale face right up close. Not a flicker. In fact, she didn't even appear to be breathing. He might well have been talking to a corpse.

'Soldier!'

Jimmy jumped. The nurse was hurrying towards them.'What're you doing? Leave the poor girl alone!'

'I wasn't doing anything, I was only—'

'Leave her alone and go back to bed now — or if you think you're well enough, return to barracks.'

Jimmy wasn't ready to face his fellow soldiers just yet. He pushed his chair back and stood up as the nurse mounted the steps and approached the table.

'Sorry,' he said. 'I didn't mean any harm.'

The nurse took the girl by the hand and gently pulled her up. The girl didn't blink.

'I'll, uh, go and have a lie-down, then,' said Jimmy. 'What's wrong with her anyway?'

'She was picked up in the woods just like this, traumatised. God knows we've tried everything to bring her out of it.'

Jimmy nodded sympathetically.

'Have you tried a good slap in the face?' he asked.

The nurse scowled at him and began to turn the girl. But as she moved slowly past him, Jimmy was certain that he saw a little flicker of movement at the sides of her mouth, the merest sliver of a hint of a suggestion of a possibility of a smile. It was gone as soon as it appeared, and it might just as easily have been a spasm of pain, or wind. She allowed herself to be slowly walked along the wooden surround, and back into the hut.

Jimmy followed them in. The girl stood immobile beside her bed while the nurse turned back the sheets, guided her down, lay her back and lifted her legs up on to the mattress. She then pulled the covers up and tucked her in. The girl lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling.

Jimmy lay on his own bed at the far side of the room as the nurse turned for the door, then glanced back at him.

'I won't turn the light out,' she said. 'She's frightened of the dark.'

'How can you tell?' Jimmy asked.

The nurse just shook her head. 'Rest while you can, soldier. You'll be back at training tomorrow.'

She closed the door behind her.

Jimmy stared at the girl for a long time. She did not turn restlessly. Or yawn. Her eyes did not flicker. But eventually, his did. He began to drift. He had already slept for most of the afternoon and evening, but his body needed time to recover from the pounding it had taken, both in the ring and over the past few days. Soon Jimmy was in a deep sleep. So deep, in fact, that he was not aware of the girl pushing back her covers. He did not know that she climbed out of bed and padded across the floor to his bed. He would never know that she bent over him and kissed him on the forehead.