The Fire-Eaters Read Online Free PDF

I shoved it down into the sand beneath the sea, let the waves sluice through it so that the sand fell through; then I tipped the black remains onto the cart. Ailsa's dad and brothers worked further out, with huge flat spades and massive sieves. Yak and Losh kept wading back with buckets full of coal.
    “Black gold!” sang Losh. “Come and buy our beautiful black gold.”
    “Hoy!” yelled Yak.
    “Aye!” I answered.
    “Why did the priest take a machine gun to church?”
    “I don't know!” I yelled. “Why?”
    “To make the people holy!”
    Ailsa worked with me and was faster and surer than me and she moved in rhythm with the waves. She slicked her hair from her eyes with strong wet hands.
    “You're doing great, Bobby boy,” she shouted. “Ain't he, Daddy? Ain't Bobby doing great?”
    “Aye!” laughed her dad. “A bit more time and he'll be nearly as good as his father was.”
    Afterward, Wilberforce pulled the cart from the sea. Losh put a head-bag full of hay on him. Seawater drained down through the coal, through the timbers of the cart, and soaked away into the sand. The men smoked. I sat on a stone beside Ailsa.
    “Joseph reckons you'll not be coming into school,” I said.
    She threw her head back.
    “Him!”
    “He reckons you might just try to go to his place.”
    “What does he know?”
    I shoved my toes down into the sand.
    “You going to go anywhere?” I said.
    “I might and I mightn't,” she answered.
    “You got your uniform?” I said.
    “Uniform!”
    Yak was watching and listening and grinning.
    “What's the point of it?” he said.
    “The point of what?” I said.
    “What's the point of lasses learning?” he said.
    I shrugged, couldn't say anything.
    “See?” he said. “No point at all. All they need is a canny lad with a bit of brawn and a bit of brain and a mind to make a bob or two.”
    He whistled, pondered, and gazed into the sky.
    “I wonder,” he said. “Is there any takers?”
    Then he and Losh rushed at us and lifted us up and threw us into the turning waves and I thrashed my arms and gasped for breath and blew out water and swam back to the shore at Ailsa's side and we lay there hooting and laughing on the sand, and it was wonderful.

“T hey're teachers,” said Mam. “That's the story. At the university, they say.”
    “University!” said Dad.
    “And there's a daughter, but she's traveling. It's all a bit vague. She's called Pat and he's called Paul.”
    The three of us were at the window, looking out. Daniel and his parents were on the beach.
    “And Paul's got a brother that's an actor.”
    “Hm!” said Dad. He lit a cigarette and coughed.
    “He's on the telly sometimes. He was on Emergency Ward 10 last week.”
    Paul had a camera. He kept taking photographs— not of his family, but of the place. He pointed it toward our house and moved toward us and we moved back.
    “And Daniel'll be at school with you, Bobby. They were seen buying the blazer at Raymond Barnes.”
    “You spoken to him yet?” said Dad.
    I shook my head.
    “He might make a nice pal for you,” said Mam.
    She clicked her tongue.
    “Put that out,” she said to Dad.
    He rolled his eyes, but took a final drag and threw his cigarette into the cold grate. He coughed and swallowed.
    “What's he up to now?” he said.
    Paul was standing with his legs apart and the camera to his face again.
    “What on earth's he think he's seeing?” said Mam. She slicked her hair down. She laughed. “I'd've washed the windows if I'd known.”
    Paul took his photograph, then turned away, with the camera slung over his shoulder, and his hands in his pockets. The sky was huge and blue and empty: just the sun, the gulls, the pigeons. There was a trawler a half mile out, with gulls all around it, plunging for waste.
    Mam put her arm around me and kissed me.
    “That's for nothing,” she said. “Now get out from under me feet and let me get on.”
    “Howay,” said Dad. “Something to show you. That feller's