Narrow Minds (9 page)

‘Sam, Sam.' Charlie was on her hands and knees beside a broken part of the canal with her head close to the water. ‘Look at these.'

‘Oh God,' Geoff and I groaned together, ‘what on earth has she found now?' Geoff winced. ‘Please don't let it be another pigeon,' he muttered, raising his eyes to the heavens.

As we approached, the babble of Chaos and Disorder could be heard. ‘Wow, they're so tiny,' and, ‘Ew, they're really cold and slimy.' That was from Sam who was kneeling in the mud, also staring at whatever had Charlie's attention. He put something back on the ground and put his hands firmly in his pockets.

Geoff frowned at me and we hurried to see what they'd found. Frogs, teeny baby frogs. Obviously these had just gained their legs and had crawled out of a sheltered bit of the canal and were desperately trying to spread themselves over as large an area as possible.

‘Here's some more.' Sam pointed further down the path that Charlie had taken. ‘And there's loads over here.' Charlie had her hands full of tiny dark green frogs, ‘Blimey there must be hundreds of them.

Hundreds was probably an exaggeration but there were certainly a lot, they crawled out from under every leaf, across the path and were rapidly burying themselves in the undergrowth on the far side of the path. Through the bushes I could see a pond in the field beyond and surmised that that was either where they were going to, or where they had come from. Either way, we picked our way carefully through the crawling, leaping amphibians and sauntered on down the path toward a likely-looking boat.

Calendula
, from the outside, wasn't particularly poor looking but she was old, and I mean really old, I don't think I had ever seen that shape of hull before, it was like an iron brick. With slabs of iron riveted in a vague boat shape (actually she looked a lot like a curved loaf tin) she squatted in the water hippo-esque, large, round and slightly overweight, I noticed smoke coming out of the chimney and figured that, like their neighbours, the inhabitants must be also be amphibian if they needed the fire on in this weather.

However, apart from her slightly elderly appearance she was well painted and blacked with a cheerful striped tiller and pots of her namesake placed carefully on the roof amid the usual assortment of ladders, coal, wood and bicycles.

‘She doesn't look too bad does she?' I turned to Geoff with a hopeful smile then turned around as the screaming started behind me. ‘Charlie don't you dare threaten to put frogs down your brother's back.'.

Charlie opened the clenched fist she had been threatening Sam with, ‘I haven't really got a frog in it.' She gave me a wounded look. ‘I wouldn't do that and it'd be cruel.'

Sam sighed with relief. ‘Thanks, Charlie.' He gave her a sunny smile.

‘I meant it would be cruel to the frogs, Sam.' Charlie gave him a sneer. ‘If I thought for one minute that it wouldn't bother the frogs I'd put a hundred down your back.'

Sam looked hurt. Geoff and I went back to looking at the boat. ‘She really is sitting low in the water, isn't she?' Geoff stared at just the tip of the rudder that could be seen above the waterline. ‘She must be incredibly heavy with that hull. And I bet she handles like a pregnant elephant, no quick turns with this one.'

I shrugged and gestured toward the boat. ‘Well, we're here now, shall we?' He nodded vaguely, still obviously lost in thought about the hull. As we walked toward the boat Charlie and Sam joined us, pointing out various features and generally making enthusiastic noises.

Geoff knocked on the back doors and we waited … and waited … and waited. Realising we would only have a finite amount of time before the kids became bored and looked for something ‘interesting' to do, I wandered down the length and tapped gently on a window. There was immediate movement inside. The shadowy figure pointed toward the bow and we all moved expectantly down the tow path.

‘Hello.' A tousled head appeared at a door. ‘Marie and Geoff?' We nodded. ‘Hi, I'm Dave, come on in.' He looked at the kids for a moment and bit his lip, then said cheerily, ‘These with you or have you picked them up on route?'

I laughed. ‘No, they're with us, but they're mostly boat-trained.'

He gave a slightly strained laugh and opened the door wider. A puff of smoke leaked out and wafted toward us before dissipating on the wind.

‘Oooh.' Sam sniffed and leapt toward the boat. ‘Incense, I love incense.'

Geoff and I looked at each other, then at Dave who was sporting a rictus grin. It smelt, sort of, like incense and I can see why Sam had assumed that is what it was, but anybody burning that stuff was liable to get themselves a caution and a turn over from the drugs squad.

We smiled at Dave, I now noticed that classic airy look and the slightly soppy grin, we weren't going to get much sense out of him that was for sure.

‘Just help yourself and look around.' Dave waved vaguely down the boat as we stepped into the small greasy galley. Actually it was more a collection of elderly mismatched cupboards than a galley per se. ‘If you want me I'll just be down the other end.' He puttered slowly off, carefully carving a meandering path down the boat, his long skinny legs moving in strange stilted steps. He obviously had to think about each step very carefully.

It was hard to see amid the thick, scented, smoke and I covered my mouth and nose with my scarf. Charlie stepped in through the door and nodded sagely. ‘Hot box,' she commented.

Geoff whipped around. ‘That's not a term you should even know, let alone use it in context,' he snapped at her.

I was confused. ‘Hot box?' I coughed. ‘What's a hot box?' Charlie grinned and grabbing Sam rushed off down the boat to explore.

‘Never mind, I'll explain later.' Geoff started looking around. ‘Let's get out of here as quickly as possible.'

I listened to the giggling from Chaos and Disorder and nodded.

Ten minutes later and the giggling had grown to riotous proportions. After Sam had spent three minutes trying to explain to me why a particular stain on the side of the boat looked like a robot, I decided enough was enough and threw them out of the boat.

I had to tell them twice, they both looked at me with big owl eyes and fairly floaty smiles. In the end I took them out on the bank and parked them on the grass, among the frogs, in the hope that neither of them would try to walk on water then went back to chivvy Geoff along.

He was working through his checklist.

Engine – check, Electrics – check. Possibilities for change – check.

I noticed, as I wandered back through the kitchen, that there were no taps at the sink and no cooker, this was a little strange but some people could do without them. A little confused, I wandered out to the bow and checked the usual place for a gas locker. No Gas locker, well that could be sorted out.

I checked that Sam and Charlie were still sitting on the side of the path and made another attempt to find Geoff.

I carefully checked each door as I went down the boat and by the time I got to where Geoff and Dave were chatting, I knew what was bothering me.

‘Hi!' I quipped cheerily, ‘how's it going?'

Geoff waved at me vaguely, the miasmic atmosphere must have been getting to him as well. ‘I'm just reading through the last survey.'

I nodded. ‘And how is she?'

He shrugged and stared at me owlishly. Oh for goodness sake, I pulled my scarf closer around my mouth and nose not caring if I offended Dave. ‘Erm, does it say anything about the gas?'

Dave cut in. ‘There's no gas.'

I nodded, well, that was fairly normal, there were quite a few boats around these days without gas. ‘What about the water system?'

Dave shook his head sadly. ‘There's no water.'

Geoff lifted his head and frowned as he tried to bully his suddenly elusive thoughts into a semblance of order.

I nodded again. ‘No water tank?'

‘No.'

‘No plumbing.'

‘No.' Dave gave me a radiant smile. ‘As someone famous once said, I never drink water, fish do naughty things in it.' He slumped back into the rickety, rumpled sofa and picked at the frayed ends of the psychedelic throw that was making a very poor attempt to hide the holes. He laughed quietly at his own wit.

I wasn't about to be thrown off the subject. ‘So, where's the toilet or bathroom, I can't seem to find it.'

‘Kids gone outside?' Dave sat up and frowned at me.

‘Yes,' I said warily, hoping he wasn't going to give me a demonstration of how he went to the loo.

‘Oh good.' He reached into an overfilled ashtray and extracted what looked like an oversized and slightly bumpy roll-up which he stuck between his lips and set fire to with a battered petrol lighter. ‘This stuff's not good for them.' He nodded solicitously and crossing his eyes took a huge breath in. The burning end of the rollup brightened and crackled, he held the aromatic smoke in his lungs, eyes watering, his lips pressed together so hard all I could see was unbroken straggly beard. Blowing out the smoke with a smile he offered the slightly soggy and limp item to me. I grinned and shook my head. ‘Thanks, but I need to keep an eye on the kids.' He nodded sagely and offered it to Geoff who looked at it with his lip caught between his teeth, obviously happy memories from university were overpowering his common sense. I intervened. ‘Geoff, you're driving.' He nodded sadly.

The notorious smell in the room deepened, along with the haze and trying to breathe shallowly I pulled my scarf tighter around my nose. Geoff sighed and squinted, trying to make sense of the spidery writing that covered the survey paperwork. I noticed that he had almost given up and was spending more time staring at a badly painted, fake stained-glass, fish on the window than he was on the facts and figures before him.

‘The toilet,' I enunciated slowly and clearly in the hope that the question would penetrate the bemusement of the man in front of me. ‘Where is it, do you have one?'

Straightening up he stared at me. He was obviously finding it hard to focus, at least with more than one eye at a time. ‘There isn't one.' He smiled and sank back taking another huge drag of the rollup. ‘What you have to understand,' he paused and nodded to himself, ‘is that, a life like this, we should get rid of all the trappings of modern living.' He nodded again. Obviously this was going to be a deep and meaningful soliloquy on the meaning of alternative living. ‘You don't need all this rubbish like water and toilets, they're just things.' He leant forward and stared at me. ‘They can put chemicals in the water that keep us tranquil.' He took another huge drag on his roll-up and stabbed a finger down onto the table with a thud. ‘Well, I don't want to be ‘tranquil.''

Watching his eyes swing sideways, a pair of mistimed and bloodshot blue pendulums, I have no idea how I kept a straight face; if he had been any more ‘tranquil' he'd have been comatose.

Having imparted this incredibly important message, he rubbed a grubby hand down his dirty jeans. Fumbling around in his pockets he brought out a piece of red glass which he handed to me before taking another huge suck on the sad-looking roll of burning paper and dried plant life that he still had stuck in his beard. He nodded toward the glass. ‘Look through that.' He giggled and sucked again on the now defunct, stained roll of cardboard that was all that was left of his joint. ‘You'll see that everything is fine, everything that they want you to see, anyway.' He smiled at me, one eye wandered inward to stare at his nose then gently tracked sideways to stare vaguely out of the window, the other stared indistinctly into mine.

Just to thank him for his thoughts, I looked at him through the glass for a moment and nodding, placed it carefully on the crate he was using for a table. ‘Well, thanks for your time.' I gently kicked Geoff in the shin. My befuddled husband swivelled his rapidly reddening eyes and stared at me owlishly. ‘We have another boat to see, but we'll be in touch and let you know.'

Geoff, using the back of the battered sofa for support climbed slowly to his feet, smiling beatifically as he managed this extraordinary feat of dexterity. He waved vaguely to Dave then, turning unsteadily, he began to make his way back down the boat toward the doors, feeling his way through the fog of happy smoke.

Once out on the front deck I pulled my scarf down with a gasp and took several huge gulps of fresh, cleansing, air. Even protected as I was, I felt fuzzy and slightly nauseous. I turned to speak to Geoff, then gave up.

I laughed as I watched him try to climb down from the front of the boat back on to the tow path, his legs, like Dave's eyes, seemed to be working independently. ‘Come on, let's go and find the kids.' I walked back to where I'd left them.

Were they where I had ordered them to stay? No, of course they flaming well weren't. The tow path was deserted in each direction and for a moment I felt the panic begin to rise. Pushing the heart-pounding feelings back down, I took stock. If I was a slightly stoned pre-teen in charge of a slightly stoned nine-year-old boy where would I be?

Linking my arm with Geoff's to hurry him along, I pulled him down the path to where we had seen the frogs. I stood and listened. Sure enough Sam's familiar, high-pitched and strident voice emanated from behind a hedge. I breathed a sigh of relief and stood for a moment waiting for my pounding heart to subside to a normal rhythm.

Searching the undergrowth at the side of the canal I found their access hole and, leaving Geoff to stare, mesmerised, at the glistening ripples on the surface of the canal, went in search of the kids.

To this day I really don't know whether it was the second-hand smoke or just that our kids were likely to do odd things, but I will always smile at the memory of Sam lying on the grass next to a small pond, covered in a carpet of tiny green frogs. He was giggling almost uncontrollably which was annoying his sister who was trying to fill in the gaps. Sam's shaking was making it difficult for the placid little amphibians to stay on. There really are some days when I could kick myself for never carrying a camera.