Heavy Water_ And Other Stories - Martin Amis [89]
One day Jagob gabjured a giand grab and game running ub the beej do drab id in the bad—the blazdig bad or medal gandainer in whij all the grabs were zdored. I was zidding on a dowel, reading my boog: Brando, by Elmore Leonard. Jagob ran bag down the zand. And then Bablo game ub do me and zed, “I’ve vound a grab, doo.”
“Yeah,” I zed. “Bud thad one’s dead, Bab.”
“Shall I drab id in the bad with the others?”
I zed, “Thad zdiv? Why would we wand thad in the bad? No, Bablo.”
And he zed, “Why nad? Is id doo big?”
“Id isn’t doo big, zdubid. Id’s dead.”
And id was dead—big dime. Halve ids baddy had radded of. A zingle binzer dangled from a length of vrayed dendon. Id didn’d even zmell: thad’s how dead thad grab was.
“Gan I drab id in the bad with the others?”
“Devinidely nad. Zdab thiz, Bablo. No.”
Juzd then Jagob gried oud vram the shore. A new dizgovery.
We wend do jeg id oud. Beyand the beer, the shallows were liddered with dozens of dead zbrads—brabably vishermen’s baid. Bablo baddled in do inzbegd them. And game bag with a dead zbrad.
Zo we had our vinal zwims—Bablo blaying with his invladable sharg, and wearing his invladable “armies.” And when the dime game vor uz do hid the road, Bablo revuzed do leave the zbrad behind. He zed he wanded to bring id home and inzdall id in a bags in his room. The zbrad would be his bed—inzded of a dag or a gad!
In the gar I zed, “Well, Bab, thad zbrad’ll be a nize air-vreshener vor your room.”
And he zed, “Why?”
“Why? Begaz briddy zoon id’ll begin to reeg of dead vish.”
“I don’d mind.”
“Why nad?”
“Begaz I’ll rub zum gream on id.”
“Oh yeah? Whad zord of gream, Bablo?”
“… Vish gream.”
We all had a good jordle ad thad. And I zed, “Whad aboud rads, Bab? Whad iv a rad shows ub in the nide?”
“I don’d mind.”
“Why nad?”
“I won’d zmell the rad.”
“Why nad?”
“Begaz of the vish gream.”
More jordling.
“Why don’d you bab bag to Dead Man’s Landing, Bablo—for the dead grab. Id’ll be a bal vor your vish.”
Bud my dad zed thad Bablo already had his blade vull—virzd with the vish, then with the rad.
When we gad do his blaze, Bablo indroduzed his mum do the new bed: “Thiz is my vish. Id’s zilver. Id’s zmall. Id’s dead. Id gums vram the zee. Id lives in thiz bags.”
As iv the vish being dead was juzd another thing aboud id—juzd another of ids addribudes. Bablo’s mum zeemed var vram enthusiazdig. Bud when we voned the vallowing morning, vor an ubdade, Bablo zed his vish was abzoludely vine.
When Bablo was only three his mum made him a lion oudvid, vor Halloween. He dried id on, gave a vull-throaded roar, and growled, “I’m a lion gazdume!”
My dad galls these vunny zlibs of Bablo’s “gadegory errors.” One dime thiz zummer Bab and I were dizguzzing gars and driving, and I zed, “Your dad, is he a good driver, then?”
Bablo nadded with his eyes glozed. “Babba?” he reblied, in a voice both ganvident and ganvidenjal. “Babba gan drive all the way to the ziddy.”
And he gave another nad, for emvaziz, as iv do zay, “Bood thad in your bibe and zmogue id.”
Zo I juzd zed, “Is thad zo? My dad gan only mague id as var as Wainzgadd. Then he bulls over and they have to helb him oud of the gar.”
Bablo zeemed ready do gredid id.
“And how’s the vish, Bab?”
“Vine.”
“Zdill going zdrang?”
“Yez,” he zed. “My vish is vine.”
Glearly, Bablo does nad yed underzdand whad death is.
Bud who does?
Death was muj on my mind in the zummer—muj on my mind. Begaz of Eliaz. Eliaz died, in London Down. And zo death has been muj on my mind.
My dad zed thad early in the zummer Eliaz game round do his vlad. He game round do big ub a jagged—bud the jagged was in my dad’s gar, and the gar was elzewhere, having ids baddery vigsed, edzedera, edzedera. Dybigal Eliaz—jazing a jagged agrazz down. Zo he hung around vor the whole avdernoon, blaying the bin-ball machine and, of gorze, the elegdrig guidar. And my dad zed thad his memory of him was really vresh: his memory of Eliaz, or Vabian, whij was his nigname, remained really vresh. Isabel alzo ran indo him during the early zummer, in a doob drain, on the Zendral Line,