The Fire-Eaters by David Almond Read Free Book Online Page B

strong hands.
    “Good luck, Bobby,” he said. “You're a special kid.”
    Then he turned and hurried back through the hawthorn hedge.
    I watched him leave my sight.
    I ran my fingers across the letters he'd carved into the bone handle: BOBBY.

W e nodded at each other, but I didn't sit with Daniel on the bus. He sat behind me and my cheeks were burning. I thought he was watching me, but when I dared to turn I saw he was reading a book, lounging with his knee raised onto the seat. He had his tie loosened and he held his hair back with his hand. I turned back again when he raised his eyes to me. Other kids got on, older kids, but some of my mates from the juniors as well: Ed Garbutt, Diggy Hare, Col O'Kane. Diggy sat beside me, the other two in front.
    “They stick your head down the netty, you know,” he said. “They turn you upside down and pull the chain. Initiation.”
    “Aye, I know,” said Col. “I heard. D'you sometimes wish you hadn't passed?”
    “Aye,” we all muttered.
    “Who's that?” said Ed, nodding at Daniel.
    “New kid,” I said. “Come from Kent or somewhere.”
    “They make you eat dirt,” said Diggy. “They make you drink your own piss. They stick needles in you. They got one kid took to hospital and he nearly died. It's true. Johnny Murray told us.”
    “I heard the same,” said Col. “They had to pump his guts out and he's never been the same since.”
    A couple of the older kids were grinning at us. We kept our eyes away. Doreen Armstrong got on. Her skirt was hitched up above her knees.
    “Oh, wow,” said Col.
    “D'you sometimes wish you were older?” said Ed.
    “Aye,” we muttered.
    We headed down the coast. The sea was on our left. A massive tanker was heading in toward the Tyne. Some kind of battleship was heading out into the mist.
    “Me dad nearly didn't let us come,” said Ed. “Says it's hardly worth the bother. Says what's the point in all the tests and the uniform palaver. Says there's bound to be another war and when there is …”
    I shook my head.
    “There won't be,” I said.
    “How d'you know?” said Col.
    I shook my head.
    “See?” said Ed. “Nobody knows. Nobody can do nowt.”
    “There'll be nowt left,” said Diggy. “They could blow the whole world up umpteen times if they wanted to.”
    “Kapow,” said Col.
    “They hung one kid,” said Diggy. “They did. If the teacher hadn't come along and cut him down …”
    “But they say the teachers is even worse,” said Col.
    I felt the penknife in my pocket. I opened the blade.
    “I was in town yesterday, at the quayside market,” I said. “I saw this fire-eater bloke.”
    “Me and all,” said Ed. “He's a bliddy loony, eh?”
    “Aye,” I said.
    I felt the sharpness of the blade against my thumb.
    One of the big kids lit a cigarette at the back of the bus. Doreen squealed with laughter at a joke. Ed put his chin on the seat back and stared at Daniel. Diggy looked out at the sea.
    “It's like ganning to the bliddy slaughterhouse,” said Col.

T here was a long redbrick front with long shining windows. There was a great golden crucifix over the main door. Half a dozen steps led up to it. We first-years had to wait there when the bell had rung. The others streamed inside. A group of teachers stood on the steps above us.
    “Your names will be called,” said one. “Then you will step forward. When your class has been gathered, your teacher will escort you inside.”
    He had a suit and tie on, and a black gown over his suit. He drew his gown open. A black leather strap curled out from his breast pocket.
    “My name is Mr. Todd,” he said. “Your teachers will introduce themselves when they are with you in your rooms.” He paused. “We are waiting for order.”
    He came closer to us.
    “I wish to see straight lines,” he said. “Straight lines!”
    We made clumsy lines that straggled out across the pale concrete yard.
    He sighed.
    “So,” he said. “You are those who have passed the