Ten Again

“You go first.” Andy's voice showed no fear but I could see it in his eyes.

I craned my head back and followed the rusting rungs one at time until I had to step back to see the top, as my neck seemed to be breaking. A lump grew in my throat and I swallowed.

“You’re a better climber than me, can’t you go?”

“That’s the whole point, dummy. If you’re in front I can help you, and if you slip I can catch you.”

I knew that was bollocks and he was just scared. I was scared too, scared of the tower but more scared of him. I reached out a hand, gripped the cold iron and put a foot onto the bottom rung. I looked back at Andy. The fear had momentarily disappeared from his eyes, replaced by glee - God, how I hated him.

“Go on, or shall I tell everyone at school that you’re chicken-pat?”

I put the other foot on the same rung and inched up one rusting level at a time, hugging the ladder to my chest between each lengthy step. All the while Andy shouted up encouragement but he wouldn’t set foot on the ladder himself. Each step took me farther away from safety and with each I grew more and more angry.

I pulled myself onto the concrete roof, heart beating heavily with fear.

“What’s it like!” came Andy’s eager shout.
I opened my eyes, as I lay flat, scared of falling. All I could see was sky; this square of concrete about ten foot wide, and what appeared to be a manhole cover - I couldn’t even see the tops of the trees.

I kept my breathing shallow, afraid that even too deep a breath would cause this monolith’s knees to shake and I croaked, “Come and see for yourself.”

“Hey, do you need a deaf-aid, I said, ‘What’s it like!'”

Wanker! That’s what I thought, but knew I wouldn’t have the courage to say it to his face. I crept to the side of the tower on my stomach until I could peer over the edge and looked down at Andy’s upturned face; he didn’t look so big and hard now.

“Come up and see for yourself.”

“Nah, can’t be bothered, seems boring anyway.”
“Come on Andy, you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s great up here,” I taunted, knowing that I’d finally found something that I could do that he couldn’t.

“No, it’s getting late. Better get home to dinner.”

“I’ll stay up here then, on my own and enjoy myself.”

“Yeah, OK. See you.”

I watched as he started to retreat and suddenly, because I was angry or perhaps because I felt safe up here away from him I shouted something I could never take back.

“What you having for dinner Andy? - Chicken!”
He stopped, turned, was quiet for a moment, not believing what he’d heard, “What?”

Then, in a fit of bravery I stood, flapping my arms in imitation of the fowl as I marched around the top of the tower clucking, “I just wondered if the mother hen were doing you chicken for dinner.”

Shit, I was going to pay for this at school on Monday but I was enjoying my moment of superiority. Then I heard a rattle as Andy took his first step on the ladder - and he didn’t falter as I had. I dropped to my belly, all bravado gone, and crawled to the top of the ladder.

“Andy? I thought you were going to dinner.”
He didn’t answer but even though he was still twenty feet below I could see his anger. I looked over my shoulder at the manhole. This was trouble. Andy had a foul temper, Christ, he’d throw me off the tower without so much as a ‘how you doing?’
“Hey, Andy. Guess what? There’s a manhole up here, and.. and.. I think there’s something down there.”

By now Andy had reached the top of the ladder and his beetroot face loomed large.

“You little creep, you nor nobody calls me chicken…”

“Andy, look, look the manhole.”

There was nowhere to run. But if I could get him away from the ladder then I might have a chance.
He scuffled forward, getting his tower legs. It seemed he was choosing between anger and curiosity.

"If you're messing with me... What is it? What's down there, Cumpants?"

I allowed myself a breath of relief; 'Cumpants' was what he called me when he was being friendly.

"Load of plastic bags and things. I thought I saw a tape player."

As he shuffled nearer to the opening I saw my chance and dashed for the ladder, but he was a lot quicker than I'd given him credit for. He turned.
"That's it wi' you. I'm gonna..."

He stood before me with that sneer pasted on his face, more threatening than I had ever seen before. He was going to annihilate me and I charged. That was a first class rugby tackle and it buckled Andy good and proper sending him straight down the manhole.

The water tower was miles away from where we lived. They never searched that far afield; they had no reason to. He was just another missing kid, pissed off with his parents or picked up by some paedo.

I stand now at the foot of the ladder and gaze up. My hand reaches up and grips a rung and that touch whips me back thirty years. I hear Andy shouting. God, how long have I left him here? I take each rung swiftly, no longer afraid. He’s gonna kick me into atoms but I don’t care - at least I’ll be free.

The rusty ladder grates and whines like a bad-tempered old woman as my full-grown body climbs. A corroded bolt snaps and bounces off my balding head. The ladder pulls away from the tower’s concrete on one side and I freeze. I’m halfway up. I should go down but the ladder might give way. But Andy calls and I resume my climb.

I reach the top and push away from the ladder as it springs from the tower with what sounds like a lazy yawn but I prioritise: Andy, Andy first.
Tottering on vertiginous legs I near the hole. The iron lid is still in place, the way I left it so long ago.

I scrape aside the lid and peer into the tarry dark.

"Andy? Andy, you there?"

"Cumpants? That you chicken-pat? Got anything to eat? I'm starving," his skinless jaws clopping like hollowed out coconut shells.

"Sorry I left you. You're ok aren't you?"

"Come on down. I've been listenin' to that tape player. There's some great sounds."

So I drop down into the tower's bowels, ankle deep in water and wonder how Andy can sit there against the wall with his arse all wet like that.

"Slide the lid across will you, the light hurts my eyes."
I do as he says, though I wonder how the light can hurt his eyes as I don't see any, only two ink blots for sockets that lead deep into hell. As I slide the lid over I feel the light go out of my life, and the life go from me.

"Shit, Andy, it's so dark in here."
"Don't worry Cumpants; you've got all the time in the world to get used to it."