far below while also prompting celebrations in a
neighbouring town who find themselves now blessed
with water for their mill.
It grinds along. The boys switch that river back
and forth… the opposite of error is error still!
There’s a character called the Man who had Failed who
appears sporadically to muse and offer wisdom to the
boys – an obvious cipher –
why am I bothering to explain?
An education sets you up – primes you for the world… or
should, right?
What, then, did that book set us up for, Ava?
At that age, things stick –
what I’m trying to say is –
this book, read slowly, painfully aloud by
each of us in turn for weeks,
rendered my starved, reluctant brain
a cave
dark and deep
with two boys trapped inside
the water rising.
Oh look, Ava!
One boy takes off his hat, fits a candle to it and,
reaching down, he sends it out along the swirling current
looking for an escape,
little boat – throwing its warmth across the cavern
as it travels out, out, out –
stalactites loom,
minerals glint
antechambers yawn in and out
of darkness
out out out
goes the candle
from those boys
trapped on the pitch-black ledge
at the base of my memory,
and still the water rises.
See, Hardy might have let those boys escape,
unscathed.
I won’t.
