Junk - Melvin Burgess [1]
There are many moments which shock, as Melvin Burgess intends: the physical and mental terror of addiction that he describes raises goose pimples and there is no shying away from the long-term damage – even death – that drugs can inflict. But Junk also shows that humanity doesn’t die with addiction. Junk builds up a picture of a community whose lives come together by chance. Written in different voices, but with Tar and Gemma as the most familiar characters, it is open-minded and thought-provoking as the stories weave together, giving insights into the vagaries of the tellers’ lives and especially their responses to drugs. Junk remains a lasting example of the power of honest storytelling. It won both the Carnegie Medal and the Guardian Children’s Fiction Award.
Chapter One
A boy and a girl were spending the night together in the back seat of a Volvo estate car. The car was in a garage. It was pitch black.
‘I’m hungry,’ complained the girl.
The boy turned on a torch and peered inside a grey canvas rucksack behind him. ‘There’s an apple.’
‘Nah. Any crisps left?’
‘Nope.’
Gemma sighed and leaned back in the car. She pulled a blanket over herself. ‘It’s cold,’ she said.
‘Barry’ll be here soon,’ Tar said. He watched her closely in the torchlight, frowning anxiously. ‘Sorry you came?’ he asked.
Gemma looked over and smiled. ‘Nah.’
Tar snuggled up against her. Gemma stroked his head. ‘You better save the batteries,’ she said in a minute.
Tar turned off the torch. At once it was so black you couldn’t see your own hand. Surrounded by the smell of damp concrete, oil and petrol, they carried on their conversation cuddling in the dark.
Tar said, ‘Come with me.’
‘What?’ She was amazed, surprised. It had never occurred to her… He could feel her staring at him even though it was too dark to see anything. In the darkness, Tar blushed deeply.
‘You must be crazy,’ said Gemma.
‘Why?’
‘What have I got to run away from?’
‘Wait till you get home…’ The two laughed. Gemma had been banned a week before from seeing Tar. Her parents had no idea where she was that night, but they had a pretty good idea whom she was with.
‘It’d be something to do,’ said Tar in a minute. ‘You’re always saying how bored you are.’
‘That’s true.’ Gemma was the most bored person she knew. Sitting in class she sometimes felt dizzy with it, that she’d pop or faint or something if it didn’t stop. She felt she’d do anything just to have a life.
Still…
‘What about school and that?’
‘You can go to school any time.’
‘I can run away any time in my life.’
Gemma would have liked to. She wanted to. But… What for? She didn’t love Tar, she only liked him. Her parents, and her father in particular, were totally ghastly but he didn’t knock her around. Not yet anyhow.
Was being bored a reason for running away to the city at fourteen years old?
Gemma said, ‘I don’t think so, Tar.’
Tar lay still in her lap. She knew what he must be feeling because she’d seen it on his face so many times. Tar’s heart was painted on his face.
Gemma bent down close. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
Tar had a reason, plenty of reasons. The latest were painted on his face, too. His upper lip swelled over his teeth like a fat plum. His left eye was black, blue, yellow and red. Gemma had to be careful not to touch his wounds when she stroked his face.
There was a noise at a small door behind them. Tar and Gemma ducked down out of sight behind the seats.
‘It’s only me…’
‘Bloody hell – you nearly killed me,’ hissed Gemma angrily.
‘Sorry. Here, put that torch on so’s I can see where I’m going…’
Tar shone the beam over to a plump blond boy carrying a plastic bag. He grinned and came over.
‘I suppose we ought to have a secret knock or something,’ he said. ‘Here…’ He handed