CHRONICLES
OF HALDEN, II
The
Banner
|
A
mock-heroic
verse
epic
by
Robin
Gordon
|
Part
2:Nails
- Auksford
-
Canto
1:
in which the author confesses his limitations
An
author who would boldly go
where none have gone before,
and sun himself in Phoebus' glow,
and think he knows the score,
knows how to mount Parnassian heights
and Pegasus to bridle,
may find his genius is slight
and all his hopes are idle.
Alas, the bourgeois poet meets
the scorn of artists true.
He may have talent for quite sweet
verse, but it won't do.
A poet must be born, they say,
receive grace from the gods -
and those, who, after work all day,
compose, are odds and sods
who lack enthusiasm's breath,
consign their lines to certain death,
and waste their lives in futile strife.
Their verses never can have life.
The artist knows there's nothing worse
than bourgeois people writing verse.
We read the views of many masters
who all condemn as poetasters
those who try to write in verse
without the blessing - or the curse -
of heavenly inspiration which
alone can save us all from kitsch.
At least, say Boileau and Racine,
an author really mustn't preen
himself on genius he lacks,
but choose with care among the tracks
that lead to Mount Parnassus' peak:
in other words, that he must seek
a subject fitting to his skill,
and, if he be but run- o'-t'-mill,
he shouldn’t try his hand at tragic
history, for, lacking magic,
his verse will slump along the ground
instead of soaring. No profound
sentiments expect from me,
for I shall stick, as you will see,
to my last, like any cobbler -
my Pegasus is quite a hobbler -
and tell in my familiar manner
the further happenings round the Banner.
The story so far, you’ll recall,
was that Nails Palmer chanced to fall
as prisoner to the Swarrell gang,
who grabbed him quickly and all sang
the praises of Sid Thatcher, who,
it seemed, had captured him – not true
for accidents had brought him down.
They sent poor Nails back through the town,
as climax to their little game,
trouserless, to his great shame.
Not often can a gang debag
their rivals’ leader, so as flag
they kept his trousers and proclaimed
that Halden’s honour had been maimed.
Then Nails, instead of venting rage
in battle, quietly left the stage
and skulked in shameful and discreet
hiding, till he chanced to meet
a Christian girl, who saw her chance
to make him join her Saviour’s dance
and meekly turn the other cheek.
His gang just thought that he’s turned weak.
Canto
2:
in which Nails professes his faith
Through
Halden’s streets comes Nails,
and
Tommo sees.
Now
Tommo never fails
to
catch the breeze,
and
to his ears it whispers, “Nails is done.
The
Swarrell lads have had their mocking fun
with
him. He is disgraced,
and
doubly so:
he
should have turned and faced
his
shaming foe.
His
hiding has besmirched the Halden gang,
his
cowardice become a poisoned fang
that
numbs his Halden chums,
who
can’t reply
when
Swarrell jeers and hums
when
strolling by
the
song that tells so mockingly the manner
his
trousers had become the Swarrell banner.
Our
Tommo is a cautious sort of lad
who’d
never risk his life upon a single
throw
of the dice, and so he lets commingle
in
his words to Nails more than a tad
of
loyalty, encouragement, support,
as
if not quite believing that report.
It
can’t be true, his manner seems to say,
that
Nails, the greatest leader Halden knew,
was
stripped by Swarrell, let them get away
with
it, and, like a coward will eschew
his
just revenge, all for religion’s sake.
A
plot to lull them, then he’ll vengeance take!
But
Nails replies with Bible quotes and verses,
and
says he should be grateful to the boys
who
stripped his pride. What others count a curse is
for
him the road to all-consuming joys:
an
hour’s humiliation led to love
of
Janice, and, through her, to Heaven above.
Now
Scouse, best friend of Tommo, has his say.
Not
grasping yet his leader’s stratagem,
he
urges Nails to act and seize the day,
attack
the Swarrell lads and batter them,
snatch
back the trophy that had marked his shame,
and
make the Swarrell leaders’ trousers now fair game.
In
Roman times it was a dreadful blow
and
deeply felt if standards should be lost.
A
legion’s pride would thereby be brought low.
Its
men would strive and never count the cost
until
their noble eagle they had won
again,
nor pause till it was done.
When
Crassus fell on Parthia’s distant hills
and
lost his eagle standard in the strife,
the
Roman Senate thought, of all the ills,
the
standard’s loss the worst, far worse than life
of
many men. It meant humiliation,
a
slur, a blot, dishonour to the nation.
So
Halden is dishonoured by the loss
of
Nails’s trousers. He who was their boss,
their
leader and their general in strife,
they
would far rather see bereft of life,
an
honoured martyr for the Halden side,
than
stripped of honour. Better far he’d died.
Thus
seething hot in Scouse’s breast there raged
these
feelings of dishonour and of shame,
but,
inexpressible, they stayed, all caged
within
him, for no silver-tonguéd fame
was
his, no muse had opened up his heart
to
teach him any great rhetoric art.
And
as for Nails, he will not deign to hear,
for
he’s convinced himself that it’s not fear
of
ridicule that holds him back from war
but
love, that’s won his heart as ne’er before:
first,
love of Janice, then his love for Christ,
the
which above all honour he has priced.
Thus
spake to them their former leader Nails:
“I’ve
left the things of earth behind.
They’re
all corrupt, and even honour fails.
I
see where once I was but blind.
You
speak of shame?
It’s
just a game.
My
name’s now entered on the heavenly roll.
Much
better lose my pants than lose my soul!”
Downcast
stands Scouse:
“They’ll
laugh at us forever.”
But
higher than a house
swings
Tommo’s mood.
This
turpitude
will
favour his endeavour.
By
the cowardice he’s shown
will
Nails be overthrown.
This
Tommo can foresee,
and
full of glee
he
says to Scouse that Nails is finished.
He
can’t be leader when he’s so diminished.
So
Tommo sees his chance
to
win himself the throne.
He
feels that Fortune’s glance
has
made of him her own
favourite
son.
What
must be done
to
clear Nails from the scene?
Denounce
him to Marlene,
the
reigning leader’s moll,
and
win both crown and doll.
Canto
3:
in which Nails’s faith is put to the test
Our
poem
now must turn to thoughts of love,
for
Nails,our hero’s on his way to meet
Janice.
See, he lurks around to greet
her
when she leaves the library. His dove
coos
when she sees her faithful escort there,
but
when he tries to kiss her she adjusts her hair
and
skilfully obstructs his longing lips
manipulating
tresses, comb or clips.
With
honeyed smiles she binds him to her fast,
invites
him to a dance that very night
to
meet her friends, the Fellowship, at last,
and
put his life upon the road to right.
Then
Hotrod passes, whistling John
Brown’s body,
infuriating
Nails. Forgetting God he
swings
round to attack, remembers then
Janice
and controls himself again.
She’s
puzzled, but he can’t tell her his shame.
Her
invite he accepts. His hopes are high.
She
pats her hair, continuing her game.
She’s
curious, but still he won’t say why
the
tune should anger him. He vows he will
control
his passion, and, for good or ill,
he’ll
join the Fellowship. To win a bride
the
leader of the gang forgets his pride.
At
the YPF there’s dancing,
boys and girls together prancing,
doubtless also some romancing
as they move around the floor.
Nails
and Janice enter gladly,
look around at all the madly
dancing couples and those sadly
partnerless, none to adore.
Nails,
in doubt, is hesitating
like a bather on the shore,
vacillating at the door.
Janice
takes him by the hand,
pulls him in among the band,
dancing all to music canned,
he stumbles like a Dumbledore.
Then
he hears the whispers rising,
for they all find it surprising,
and at once fall to surmising
why it is he’s come, what for.
Nails,
embarrassed, blushes hotly,
feeling bashful to the core,
and tries to edge towards the door.
Janice
heads towards the Curate.
Nails, unwilling, must endure it.
Janice grips him to ensure it,
drags him forward evermore.
Mouse
gives him a friendly greeting,
pleased that once again he’s meeting
another soul who in this fleeting
life has found the narrow door,
the
only door that leads to Heaven,
that so many souls ignore.
But Nails is feeling pretty sore.
He
has heard across the room,
like portents of impending doom,
their tongues, like shuttles on a loom,
wagging as they spit their store
of
gossip, tittle-tattle, tales,
two girls who weigh in judgement’s scales
Janice, how she captures males
with cunning wiles to bring some more
souls
to church, not out of love
for them but just as presents for
the Curate, Mouse, she did adore.
Now
Victor Mouse calls others to
converse with Nails, the stranger who
is in their midst and looking blue;
but conversation proves a chore,
so
Mouse suggests it would be good
that Janice to the dance floor should
lead Nails, but she does what she would,
drags Mouse onto the dancing floor.
Nails
is left alone, bereft.
He tries this insult to ignore,
though sweating now from every pore.
The
dancers once again are whirling
to a sound like bagpipes skirling,
and Nails within himself is curling,
worse than ever heretofore.
Snatches
now come to his ears,
confirming all his darkest fears,
and almost he’s reduced to tears
alone upon that hateful floor.
Hears
them whisper words like trousers,
describing how his captors tore
from his limbs the jeans he wore.
Now
there comes to him one Julie,
slipping snakelike through th’ unruly
throng, and she surveys him coolly
as though he were an alien spore.
“So
you’re the trophy Janice brought,
the little gift with which she’s bought
Victor’s favour. Bet she thought
she’d really make a score!”
Open-mouthed
now stands Nails Palmer,
alone upon that hostile floor,
with insults that he can’t ignore.
Mouse
and Janice disappear
into the office. Nails’s fear,
increased by what he’s forced to hear,
propels him to the door.
“Surely
you cannot be leaving?”
Julie calls, quite falsely grieving.
Who does
she think she is deceiving?
“Come dance upon the floor!
Oh
promise me you will come back,
for ever open is our door!”
Quoth Nails Palmer: “Nevermore!”
Canto
4:
in
which we learn of Marlene’s sorrow and Tommo’s joy
O
Muses,
once again I call on you
to
lend your inspiration to my pen,
for
now we turn to womanhood again,
whose
cheeks are mantled with a saddened hue.
Not
far from where the lofty spire of Sweyne’s
church
juts up towards the lowering skies,
as
if its top would pierce the clouds, bring rains
tumbling
like tears from Heaven’s eyes,
there
walked two maidens. deep in conversation,
and
one spoke of her boyfriend’s curly hair.
The
other mutely stood in desolation
as
if weighed down by some oppressive care.
“You
haven’t heard a word I’ve said, Marlene.
You
take no interest in my boyfriend, Keith,”
said
Claire, but Marlene ground her pearly teeth
in
silence, wondering where Nails had been.
“I
bet,” said Claire, “you’re mooning over
Nails.
Forget
him! He’s a goner, just a nowt!”
“I’m
not!” said Marlene. “I have thrown him
out.
“I’ve
better things to do than sigh for males.”
Now
Tommo comes upon this fateful scene,
and
he brings news that Nails has found a new
girlfriend,
and he sticks to her like glue.
“What’s
that to do with me?” blurts out Marlene.
“Just
thought you’d like to know how things now stand,”
grins
Tommo, “cos you know he lost his kecks
in
Swarrell when we had the battle, and
he’s
lost his head now for the fairer sex.
It’s
Janice Greenwood from the church he loves.
His
honour and his pants to him mean nowt.
They’re
like a pair of spooning turtle doves.
Just
look at them together. There’s no doubt.”
“Well,
thanks for telling me,” said Marlene coldly.
“I’ve
got no further interest in that lad.
If
he’d invaded Swarrell and had boldly
got
his trousers back, and if he had
brought
other trophies too, and been a hero,
I
might have thought that he still had some charms.
To
me his value’s something less than zero.
I’ll
not be held by any other arms
than
those of him who leads the Halden gang.
Why,
even you I would prefer to Nails
if
you can lead. I’d come without a pang.
There’s
nothing in my heart for one who fails!”
Then
Marlene flounced away,
for
Tommo’d won the day,
and
so he turned to Scouse.
“Now
that’s the way to douse
the
flames of love,” he said.
“Nails
is as good as dead.
The
victories are mine,
all
along the line.
The
leader I shall be,
and
Marlene will kiss me,
and
do for me the things
that
queens all do for kings.
I’ll
stay with her all night –
my
pants are getting tight
just
at the very thought!”
But
Scouse said that they ought
to
take a saner view,
for
others would try too
to
win the leader’s throne
that
Tommo thought his own.
Said
Tommo, “I don’t care!
There’s
none of ‘em will dare
to
do what we will do –
we
few, we happy few –
It’s
in the gobbin’ bag.
We’ve
made off with the swag.
You’ll
see, I’ve got a plan,
and
I will be the man!”
Canto
5:
in
which Tommo suffers a reverse and devises a plan
So
is all
set for Tommo’s triumph now?
You
think so? Let us see.
You
must remember that I told you how,
in
any tragedy,
before
the end come many great reverses,
and
songs of praise give way to desperate curses,
and
so it is in these poor humble verses.
For
Nails now rushes up. He’s in a rage,
and
“Where’s the gang?” he cries.
“What’s
that to you?” sneers Tommo, who can’t cage
th’
ambition in his eyes
and
in his voice and manner. Then he quails.
At
sight of Nail’s fury his
nerve fails.
If
anyone is leader it is Nails.
“They’ll
not
treat
me like that, by Hell they won’t!”
Nails
thunders out.
“They
think that I just take it. Well I don’t!
“I’ll
give her such a clout!
She’ll
use me as a trophy? Well, they’ll find,
when
we invade the YPF, I’ll grind
them
all to bloody bits. I hate that kind!
They
posture and they primp, look down on me!
I’ll
kill the gobbin’ lot!
And
after that I’ll lead the gang – you’ll
see –
right
into Swarrell, where we’ll fight a war,
and
trample all the Swarrell lads in gore,
and
win a victory like ne’er before!
My
blood is up! I’ll never let them rest!
I’ll
have the gobbin’ pants
off
every Swarrell lad, cos I’m the best;
exterminate
like ants
anyone
at all gets in my way:
the
YPF, the Swarrell lads. Today
they’ll
find I’m back as leader – and I’ll
stay!”
Dust
and ashes, dust and ashes!
Tommo’s
glory downward crashes.
All
his hopes are sadly shaken,
Nails
once more the crown has taken.
Bitter
wormwood, bitter gall!
Tommo’s
soaring hopes all fall.
Never
woe was felt so keen:
lost
the crown, and lost Marlene.
Rudely
cast out from his dreaming,
Tommo’s
brain now turns to scheming.
Soon
he knows just what his plan is:
Nails
he’ll trick by using Janice.
Tommo
says, “What we must do
is
quickly warn the Christian lot,
tell
them Nails is someone who
takes
his vengeance like a shot,
tell
them Nails was dead offended
by
the way they treated him.
If
his feelings can’t be mended
he’ll
attack with might and vim.
Tell
them that the gang are coming
to
attack them in their hall,
then,
when we have set them humming,
that’s
the time when we will call
on
Janice Greenwood, and we’ll say
that
she alone can change his mind.
We’ll
tell them that’s the only way.
What
d’you bet? I think you’ll find
she’ll
brave the gang and risk her neck –
it’s
something Christian people do –
and
that’s the way that we will wreck
the
gang’s attack – Nails Palmer too!
She’ll
slobber on him, kiss his cheek,
and
stroke his hair and call him sweet.
Before
you know it he’ll turn meek,
and
all the gang will lose their treat.
The
YPF he won’t attack.
Invading
Swarrell? What a thought!
He’ll
follow her. She’ll lead him back.
She’ll
have him tamed. She’ll have him caught.
The
gang will need a leader then.
There
won’t be much dispute or quarrel.
Tommo
and his merry men
will
lead th’invaders into Swarrell.
Canto
6:
in
which Tommo makes new friends
and
Nails prepares his revenge
All
passed
off as Tommo said.
The
YPF was filled with dread
when
they saw the lads appear,
and
the reason for their fear
was
that they knew that their behaviour
fell
far short of what the Saviour
would
expect. It would have earned
His
rebuke, for they had spurned
an
eager soul and had subjected
him
to scorn, so they expected
to
be punished for their action,
for
Nails would want some satisfaction.
But
no, their expectation’s overturned.
Their
visitors have come with friendly smiles.
They
claim in conversation they have learned
the
YPF’s the place for juveniles
who
want to pass their time in innocent
pleasure
with good friends. It’s time well spent,
and
so they’ve come to try out what they’ve heard
so
much about. That’s what they both averred.
It
was to Mouse they said all this, and he
believed
in what they said and was quite free
and
easy. He bade welcome to them both
as
if their statements had been made on oath.
The
boys, however, were much more suspicious,
attributing
to Tommo some malicious
motive.
Was it vengeance that he sought?
The
curate should be warned was what they thought.
Now,
as for Julie, well it made her sick
to
think that Janice, by her little trick
of
bringing Nails to Christ with sexy smiles,
had
really
brought in converts by her wiles.
Tommo,
meanwhile, thinks it’s time to go.
Nelly,
Claggy, Wank and ‘Utch could slow
Nails
Palmer’s gang a bit but not all night,
so
he addresses Mouse in tones polite:
“We’ve
had a great time here, and we’ll return
next
week, for that you need have no concern.
We’ll
bring our friends as well, but just at present,
we’ve
got to go. Goodbye. It has
been
pleasant.”
I
sing of female ecstasy. Marlene
with
joyful visage come upon the scene,
and,
rushing up to Nails, asks if it’s true
what
she has heard that he’s about to do.
He
tells her that he’s going to attack
the
YPF, then get his trousers back
from
Swarrell and retrieve his honour,
and,
as for Janice, well, he’d spit upon her.
She’s
nothing now to him, less than the muck
beneath
his shoes. He doesn’t give a fuck
for
her. Now that’s what Marlene wants to hear.
She
throws her arms around her darling dear.
Now
Tommo, seeing this, is quite put out,
and
interrupts them with an angry shout,
then
swiftly turns it to a question bland
if
Nails will wait while he collects his band.
“Hurry
then!” cries Nails, who’s altogether
impatient
to be gone and slip the tether
that’s
held him back from vengeance for so long.
The
iron’s hot. He’ll strike now while
he’s strong.
Canto
7:
in
which Tommo carries out his plan
and
Janice agrees to become a heroine
In
the
hall the music’s playing,
couples
dancing, gently swaying
to
the rhythm of the record.
Life’s
not simple, always chequered.
To
the door now Tommo comes.
Their
cheerfulness he swiftly numbs.
“Nails
is coming to attack!
The
gang have somehow won him back.
They’ve
called him coward, yellow, chicken,
said
that you lot made him sicken,
made
him turn the other cheek,
forget
the honour he should seek.
They’ve
goaded him and made him turn
back
to violence and burn
to
lead them furiously to war
as
fierce as a tyrannosaur.”
“But
what has this to do with us?”
asks
Mouse, bewildered by the fuss.
“They’ll
go right past us into Swarrell,
for
we’ve no part in any quarrel.”
“You
have!”
cried Tommo, loud and clear.
Don’t
think that you have nowt to fear,
The
lads blame you for Nails’s failing.
They
say that Christians set him ailing.
They
say that you
made him forget,
and
turn from violence and fret,
instead
of fighting to retrieve
his
honour. That’s what they believe.
That’s
why they’re going to beat you up.”
“O
God,” prayed Mouse, “please take this cup
away
from us, as just reward
for
those who trust in Christ the Lord.”
“There’s
cricket bats and other gear,”
cried
Tony. “We could meet them here,
and
many a skull we’ll bravely crack
in
driving those invaders back.”
The
boys rushed forward all to get
weapons.
Mouse cried, “I can’t let
you
fight, for violence is wrong.
Besides,
I fear the gang’s too strong.”
“You’re
right,” said Tommo. “They will slay
you
if you fight. There’s just one way --
a
chance that you may think’s quite slim –
you’ve
got to send his girl to him!
If
Janice goes and seeks out Nails
she’ll
bring him back. He never fails
to
listen to his loved one’s voice.
I
think that that’s
your only choice.”
Now
Janice pales and hides her face,
but
Mouse sees here the work of grace,
for
love can bring the sinner back
and
guide him to the narrow track
that
leads us up to Heaven’s gate;
but
Janice would avoid her fate,
and
weeps, and begs for mercy here,
while
Julie cruelly mocks her fear.
She’s
torn twixt fear and warm desire
that
Victor should at last admire
his
Janice, hold her in his heart,
as
she’d designed with female art.
“I’ll
go,” she cries, “if Julie comes,”
for
she has quickly done her sums
and
reckoned that this way she’ll throw
the
blame on Julie, who’ll say “No”.
But
Julie won’t be bested by
her
rival. She would rather die.
“Of
course I’ll come with you,” she shouts.
“How
could you ever have had doubts?”
The
YPF all hail this dawning
of
hope, but Tommo gives a warning:
“Don’t
try to leave till we get back
or
you may trigger swift attack.
Just
now you need to take good care
they
don’t find out that you’re aware
or
they’ll come down upon your head
and
make you wish that you were dead.
Play
music. Do not lock the door.
Stay
normal, do not change before
we
all come back and bring good news,
unless
its battle that you choose.”
Canto
8:
in
which
Janice meets Marlene
Tommo
led
them to the corner
of
the street where Nails’s gang,
jostling
like the wildest fauna,
catcalled,
mocked and jeered and sang.
“I
can’t face them,” Janice wailed.
“Well,
if you don’t, our mission’s failed,”
said
Julie, with determined air.
“You
promised Victor. Would you dare
disappoint
him, flee the scene?
Wait
a moment, there’s Marlene!”
“And
who,” said Janice, “might she be,
and
what has she to do with me,
or
I with her? She looks a tart.”
Then
Julie said, “If Nails’s heart
belongs
to anyone, it’s her.
Don’t
you see? She’ll be the spur
that
we can use to change his mind,
for
men defer to womankind.
I
think that it’s quite likely she
will
grant to him the favours he
desires,
and let him worship Venus
with
offerings made by his penis.”
“Oh,
Julie, don’t be dirty!” cried
Janice,
who felt cold inside.
“I’ll
talk to her, as you suggest.
Perhaps
it’s really for the best
if
I resign to her my Nails
and
she
his
vicious plan derails!”
In
the café Claire and Marlene smoke,
while
Marlene talks about her bloke.
This
time she knows that Nails will never leave her,
never
part from her or grieve her.
Then,
by the pricking of her dainty thumbs,
she
feels that something wicked comes,
and,
looking up, to her dismay she sees
Janice
Greenwood buying teas.
She
and her friend now walk across the floor.
Marlene
prepares for war.
She’s
bristling to the core.
Then
Janice tries to smile,
but
all the while
she
thinks Marlene’s a whore.
“May
we sit here?” asks Janice, so politely.
“Free
country, innit?” answers Marlene brightly.
“I
wonder if you know just who I am,”
says
Janice. Marlene says, “Don’t give a
damn!”
“I’m
Janice Greenwood,” Janice then continues,
summoning
up the blood and stiff’ning sinews.
“I’m
the girl that Michael Palmer loves,
in
fact we two are close as hands and gloves.”
“Oh
yeah,” says Marlene, “well I never knew
that
you posh girls would let the fellows do
whate’er
they want to make them with you linger.
What
he put in your glove was not his finger!”
Janice
flushed, and Marlene blew some smoke
into
her face, and made her cough and choke.
Then
Janice once again tried to appeal
to
Marlene’s better nature and conceal
the
fact that she detested and despised her
and
couldn’t see why Nails had idolised her.
“Please
hark to me,” she said,
and
hung her pretty head.
“We
girls must stick together,
never
minding whether
we’re
rivals for a man.
We’ve
got to stop the boys!”
She
really thought her poise
in
such a situation
beyond
all emulation.
“Your
rival I am not.
Though
I’m the one that got
the
prize, I will release
my
man to you and cease
to
love him right away
And
all I ask of you
is
cause him to eschew
violence
and leave
us,
give us a reprieve.
Come,
Marlene, what d’you say?”
“Ooh,
look at that!
You
dirty cat!”
said
Marlene with a sneer.
“You’ll
give him up
just
like a pup
that
you don’t want. Well here
is
where you learn
that
you don’t spurn
Nails
Palmer, cos he’s mine.
I’ve
won him back,
and
he’ll attack
if
I say – don’t you whine.
You
think you’re great,
and
so you prate
and
preach at girls like me,
but
I have won,
and
you’ll be done
over,
just you see.
It’s
all your fault
he’d
not assault
his
enemies and gain
his
manhood back,
but
sadly lack
the
courage and the brain
to
fight the war,
you
little whore,
but
I have made him see
that
might is right
and
he must fight
to
win a girl like me!”
Then,
as she spoke,
Marlene
blew smoke
at
Janice, made her splutter,
then
off she strode
out
to the road.
Now
what did Janice mutter?
“Come,
Julie, come!
Don’t
sit there dumb!
We’re
looking for Nails Palmer.
I
think she’ll find I’ll change his mind,
for
I can be a charmer.”
But
Julie quailed.
Her
nerve had failed.
She
sat there turned to stone.
“Well,
never fear,”
hear
Janice sneer,
“I’ll
just go on alone!”
Canto
9:
in
which Janice confronts Nails
Unfriendly
faces all around her,
stinking
breath and jeering hound her,
but
she bravely pushes through,
knowing
what she has to do.
Half
a pace, half a pace, half a pace onward,
through
volleys of bad breath strode Janice Greenwood.
Jeering
lads are pawing at her.
She
tries to think it doesn’t matter,
pushing
through the crowds to Palmer.
Surely
he won’t let them harm her.
Half
a yard, half a yard, half a yard onward,
through
the alley forced her path and pushed Janice Greenwood.
Hotrod
cries, “Come on! Let’s rape her!
Get
her knickers! What a caper!”
Encouraged
thus, the lads grow bolder.
Hotrod
grabs her by the shoulder.
Someone
grabs her round the hips
and
plants a kiss upon her lips.
A
cheer goes up, and all the rest
are
groping at her waist and breast.
What
can she do? Her dearest treasure
will
be defiled to give them pleasure.
Bitterly
she screams and wails,
then
Tommo cries, “Bring her to Nails!”
He
says, “This girl was Nails’s tart.
If
she gets raped, he’s got to start.
So
come on lads, let’s drag her to
Nails,
so he can tame the shrew!”
Now
Hotrod’s gang don’t want to lose
the
prize they’ve won, so jeers and boos
are
launched at Tommo’s luckless head:
“Try
to stop us and you’re dead!”
But
Nails has heard the wild commotion,
and,
like a liner through the ocean,
he
ploughs his way to where they stand,
and
Janice grabs him by the hand.
When
Nails arrives, the lads retreat.
He’s
left with Janice – bittersweet:
for
once he loved her to distraction,
but
now he is a man of action.
He’s
cast her off. He won’t be fooled.
His
ardour’s definitely cooled,
and
though she wheedles, pleads and sighs,
rejecting
her he loudly cries:
“I’m
wild again,
and
riled again.
Don’t
treat me like some sort of child again.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
was
I
Don’t
cling to me,
or
sing to me.
Your
caresses don’t mean a thing to me.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
was
I.”
See
Janice smile,
using
guile,
hinting
that he’ll
lead her down the aisle.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
is
he.
“Be
mild again,
reconciled
again.
Jesus
wants you for His child again.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
are
you.
Take
wing to Him,
and
cling to Him,
your
soul you must faithfully bring to Him.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
are
you.”
Will
we find
love
is blind
and
that Nails will change his mind?
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
is
he.
He’ll
yearn for her,
and
burn for her,
to
Christianity return for her.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
is
he.
Canto
10:
in
which Nails is bewitched, bothered and bewildered
She
stroked his hair, she stroked his lips and cheeks,
while
all the while she softly, sweetly speaks
words
of love, then gently paws his chest,
and
makes him feel that he’s the very best
of
men for her, then slyly strokes his leg,
and
even touches … what? … some sort of peg
‘t
were better that we shouldn’t even mention.
Whate’er
it was, it sprang up to attention,
and
Janice let her fingers linger longer,
while
his desire for her grew ever stronger,
but
when he tried to throw his arms around her
and
press her to him, suddenly he found her
gone.
From out his grasping hands she’d slipped away.
The
time for love and sex was not that day.
“Not
now,” said she.
“My
reputation’s very dear to me,
but
I’ll give thee my very life
when
we two are man and wife.
I
want to make it crystal clear to thee
that
thou shouldst never ever fear to be
the
man who only does what’s right,
and
turns aside from violent fight
Pray
do not think that it is queer to flee,
e’en
though some boys would always jeer to see
that
you will always choose the better part,
for
that’s the way to woman’s heart.”
And
so she plied her guileful art.
He
yearned for her,
and
burned for her,
his
leadership he even spurned for her.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
was
he.
Hear
Tommo sing,
carolling,
as
joyfully his heart takes wing,
“Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
is
he!
He’s
mild again,
reviled
again,
I’ll
detrouser him just like a child again.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
is
he.
He’s
had his fling,
now
I will sting
and
my sting’s a deadly thing.
Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered
is
he!”
The
gang now stood aghast,
withered
by Fate’s blast,
for
Nails, who was to lead them,
had
now contrived to bleed them
dry,
and leave them lying,
like
fallen leaves a-drying
and
crumbling into dust.
They
thought it most unjust.
They
recalled to him the quarrel
that
they all had with Swarrell,
and
cried out for invasion.
In
vain was their persuasion,
for
Nails would not be moved,
and
thus his love he proved.
Convinced
of this at last,
the
gang all stood aghast.
Canto
11:
in
which Marlene learns of this reverse
A
murmur’s running through the crowd,
quiet
at first, then getting loud,
and
louder as they vent their rage.
Then
Marlene comes upon our stage,
and
she at once sees what’s the matter,
sees
Nails with Janice, and spits at her,
“What
is that
cat doing here?”
Then
Janice says, in tones so clear:
“Oh,
Marlene, thank goodness you’ve come
to
share in my wondrous delight,
for
Michael has had to succumb
to
Christ and to reason tonight.
He’s
given up fighting, you see –
and
all just to please little me.
Oh,
Marlene, I’m brimming with pleasure
at
all my achievements tonight,
for
now I am Michael’s dear treasure.
From
darkness I’ve brought him to light.
He’s
coming with me to the church
and
leaving his past in the lurch.
Oh,
Marlene, the winner am I.
Poor
darling, you’ve lost him again.
My
spirits are soaring on high,
for
I’ve conquered the best of all men.
Poor
Marlene! It’d such an ordeal.
I
know in my heart how you feel.”
“Nails!”
cried Marlene. “Is this true?
Just
back there you said that you
were
going to lead the gang to Swarrell
to
get revenge – and now all moral
you’ve
become. What’s going on?
The
lads are standing woebegone.”
“The
battle’s off, I think you’ll find,”
said
Janice. “Are you deaf and blind?”
“It’s
true,” said Nails. “I’m off
with her
back
to church, and you’ll incur
my
anger if you interfere
with
them at all. Is that quite clear?”
Poor
Marlene in despair was plunged.
Her
fury burned, and then she lunged
at
Janice with the clear intent
of
scratching her. She was hellbent
on
her revenge, but Nails threw out
his
arm and gave her quite a clout.
Was
it intended, or perhaps
just
one of those ill-chanced mishaps?
Tommo
saw it, was appalled,
confronted
Nails and loudly bawled,
“You
coward! Hit a girl would you?
I’ll
fight you, beat you black and blue!”
Nails
raised his fist at him and scowled,
while
Marlene wept and sobbed and howled;
but
Janice, taking Nails’s arm
steered
him quietly out of harm.
“Come
on,” she said, and leave them be.
A
street brawl’s not the place for me.
To
louts and tarts be blind and deaf
and
come back to the YPF.”
Marlene
was howling, and the gang
listened
to her next harangue.
“I
want them killed, want blood and slaughter!”
“Then
Tommo said, “We’ll give no quarter.
Come
on lads to Marlene’s aid.
For
Marlene we will first invade
the
YPF and beat up Nails,
and
then – oh holiest of grails –
we’ll
go to Swarrell and we’ll take
the
banner back, and then we’ll make
those
pants the flag of Halden’s mob –
and
I will lead you on this job!”
While
Tommo speaks the gang around him cluster,
and
Marlene stands alone and sobs and cries,
while
bitter tears bedim the peerless lustre
of
those twin orbs, her pretty, shining eyes.
Oh
pity, pity, pity poor Marlene,
caught
in the age-old tragedy of love,
a
situation worthy of Racine:
the
Nails she hates is her own turtle dove.
On
Marlene Tommo now has set his heart,
but
she loves Nails, who by the guileful art
of
Janice and her simpering deceit
in
love’s entrapped, while she presents the feat
of
winning him for Christ to Victor Mouse
in
hope that he’ll choose her
to be his spouse.
What
hope is there? What will the outcome be?
Read
on! Read on, and you will quickly see.
Canto
12:
in
which Tommo makes his demand
Wonderful
news! Cry jubilation!
Janice
and Nails have brought salvation.
The
YPF, from fear set free,
cluster
round and all agree
that
Janice and Nails are jolly good fellows.
Some
clap their hands, and Tony bellows,
“Come
on, you chaps, let’s give three cheers.
Hip,
hip…” “HOORAH!” for
all appears
peaceful,
and the night is quiet
and
free of every sign of riot.
Even
Julie must confess
that
Janice is a hero-ess
and
proved herself extremely brave
in
doing what she did to save
them
all, and Janice simpers shyly
as
they praise her, watching slyly
to
see how Mouse
is taking it.
Such
modesty! She’s faking it.
Beside
heroic Janice stands
Nails,
and clasps in both his hands
one
of hers, and whispers to her.
What
a shudder’s running through her.
“No,”
she says. “Don’t tell them now.”
Then
on she goes, describing how
her
great desire has always been
to
be her lover’s secret
queen.
Besides,
they’re all much too excited
to
take it in and be delighted.
“Announce
it properly – next week.”
She
pecks him quickly on the cheek.
Then
Mouse calls, “Let’s bring out the chairs
for
Quiet Time!” That’s hymns and prayers.
The
YPF all quickly dash
to
get the chairs – but then a crash,
as
through the window pane is thrown,
by
somebody outside, a stone.
Glass
lies shattered on the floor,
and
somebody kicks in the door.
It’s
Tommo and his gangster chums,
who
stand there boldly with their thumbs
hooked
cowboy-fashion in their belts.
The
Christians look. Their courage melts.
Their
faith in Providence quite fails.
Then
one stands forward – who but Nails?
“Hey
Tommo! What is going on?
Have
you lost your gobbin’ mind?
I’ve
told you once! You’d best get gone,
or,
I think, you’re going to find
you’ve
bitten more than you can chew.”
Then
Tommo answers, “Tell me who
you
think you are, and where you’ll get
lads
to help you. Black as jet
was
Nails’s brow as he cried out,
“I’m
the leader! Those who flout
my
orders find themselves in trouble.”
Tommo
stroked the dawning stubble
on
his chin and gave a sniff.
“I
wonder what would happen if
you
started giving orders to
the
lads. I wonder what they’d do.
Nails
had not the slightest doubt.
“Grab
him, lads, and throw him out!”
to
the Halden gang he yelled,
expecting
him to be expelled.
Instead
they looked with insolence.
He
realised his impotence.
Tommo
grinned and said to Nails,
“You’ve
reached the point where your
word fails
From
our eyes we’ve dropped the scales.
You
wouldn’t fight to keep your honour,
but
found yourself a bella
donna,
and
fastened all your hopes upon her.
While
we all fought and risked our necks,
you
let the enemy take your kecks.
Instead
of vengeance you sought sex.
Well,
now’s the time that we want payment,
and
each and every one’s a claimant.
Your
honour’s lost, now lose your raiment.
Perhaps
you thought you hadn’t heard
aright,
so I’ll repeat the word:
its
raiment,
and you’ll feel absurd,
for
no longer I’ll disguise
our
intent, or euphemise.
We
want your trousers
as our prize.”
Canto
13:
in
which Nails must make his choice
Said
Mouse, “I don’t know what is going on.
Please
tell me what he’s done so to offend.
Whatever
it may be, I think you’ve gone
a
bit too far. I really ought to send
for
the police, or Canon Tollgate, who
would
swiftly turn you out into the street.
Now
listen, chaps, it really isn’t meet
that
you should shame him as you plan to do.”
Mouse’s
words were met with scowls,
then
the gang broke into howls:
“We
want his pants! We want his knickers!
Don’t
stop us, or we’ll have the vicar’s!”
Then
Tommo yelled that Nails was just a traitor,
a
useless coward and a masturbator.
(The
word he used, of course was rather shorter,
the
sort of word a poet didn’t ought to
make
use of in a poem such as this,
the
sort of dirty words like f--- and p---,
for,
while some authors think it very bliss
to
use them, they are not the words for me).
“It
doesn’t matter if we have to scrag
the
lot of you, we’re going to debag
Nails,
to teach him that he can’t ignore
the
honour of the gang. You know the score,”
said
Tommo, with a sort of wolfish grin.
“If
Nails gives us his trousers, well that’s fine,
but
if he doesn’t, well then, we’ll begin.
So
hand him over. Don’t be asinine.”
Nails
is now alone and fearing
that the whispers he is hearing
are more hostile than the jeering
that he heard when stripped before.
Will
the end of Tommo’s game
cast him into bare-legged shame?
He’s very sorry that he came
and followed Janice through the door.
Will
he fight to save his trousers,
throw the place into uproar,
or surrender and withdraw?
Nails
is ready for the fight,
in his eyes pugnacious light,
he will uphold his honour’s right,
and, if they challenge him, it’s war.
Janice
hooks on to his arm
and cries, “Please save us all from harm,
if in your eyes I’ve any charm,
the promised one, whom you adore.”
Nails,
struck dumb, is hesitating:
surrendering he does abhor,
but
love for Janice is his law.
What’s
his choice, and what’s his fate?
Take Janice as his promised mate,
and so let Tommo confiscate
his trousers and his honour, or
leap
boldly to a swift attack,
punching like a maniac,
and give that Tommo such a crack
with both his fists upon the jaw?
Now
Janice, who is whimpering,
begins against his arm to claw,
and promises him more and more.
“Oh,
Michael, please, just let them take
your trousers off, for Jesu’s sake.
Oh save us please. Do not forsake
your friends to welter in their gore.
Oh
think of your immortal soul,
and add your name to Heaven’s roll.
Just get us all out of this hole
and you will be rewarded for
your
kindness and your bravery,”
she whimpered, and began to paw
his body like an eager whore.
Was
it hope of Heaven’s splendour,
attraction to the female gender,
or something else made Nails surrender,
which he’d resisted heretofore?
He
sighed, and then took off his jeans.
They swarmed around him like sardines,
hostile all as wolverines.
This time he knew he’d not restore
his
claim to lead the Halden gang.
He’d lost his chance to overawe:
trouserless for evermore.
Canto
14:
in
which Nails proclaims himself the winner
Lost
his
trousers, lost his honour,
Nails
is surely now a goner,
but
he holds his head up high,
cries,
“I’m the winner. This is why!
You
lot think of nowt but fights,
but
other things bring me delights.
Janice
is the girl I love,
and
I swear by Heaven above
that
she and I will soon be wed,
embracing
in our marriage bed.
You
can battle in the streets,
life
for me holds other treats.
You
lot really ought to grow up.
Sometimes
you make me want to throw up.
Do
you think I care a jot
that
the Swarrell lot have got
my
old trousers as their banner?
It’s
for the best. I’ll shout Hosannah!
I’ve
found my girl, I’ve found religion.
Fighting
Swarrell’s not my
pigeon.
I’ll
just leave all that to you,
cos
I’ve got better things to do.
Here
he turned to Janice and
clasped
her warmly by the hand,
promised
her he would belong
to
her forever, with this song.
“Maybe,
baby, you will stay beside me.
I
won’t care if they should dare deride me.
I’ll
build a home for two,
just
me and you
atop
the hill
and
then we will
live
in perfect harmony,
just
you and me.
I’ve
even planned a
grand
verandah,
where
we two can sit and think,
and
maybe take a drink
or
two,
while
we enjoy the view.
Then,
when the night will fall,
and
owls all call,
and
the light has completely fled,
we’ll
snuggle up in bed,
and
there we’ll kiss
in
perfect bliss,
when
we two are really wed.”
Fuming,
Janice Greenwood
was
central on the stage,
in
unavailing struggle,
full
of helpless rage.
Married
to Nails Palmer?
She
would rather die.
If
he would only shut his trap,
she
would tell him why.
Nails
turned to embrace her.
She
couldn’t get away.
Held
by him so firmly,
she
simply had to stay.
Then,
as he bent to kiss her,
she
kneed him in the balls.
Pain
now overcomes him.
He
staggers and he falls.
As
Nails now feels the pain in his testicular
region
so intense and all-consuming
that
he’s impelled to leave the perpendicular,
Janice,
in her fury, still is fuming.
“D’you
think I’d marry you?
Well,
if you do
you
must be mad!
Any
other lad
would
surely better suit.
You
think that you can stand
and
hold my hand
in
just your shirt!
You’ve
really gone and hurt
my
feelings to the root!
You’ve
really got a nerve!
What
you deserve
you’ve
got, you beast!
Well,
at the very least
I’ve
given you the boot!”
Canto
15:
in
which Nails suffers and is comforted
Nails
lay
upon the cold, hard floor,
hunched
in misery and pain.
He’d
given up his honour for
a
mirage. He had hoped to gain
a
loving bride to share his bed,
a
guide for his immortal soul.
Now
all illusions he had shed.
He
saw her as a female troll.
Yet
still she blasted out her rage,
like
a parrot in a cage
screeching
at a passing cat.
Syllables
poured from her tongue,
reproaches,
insults; all were flung
down
on Michael – ratatat!
All
the YPF were huddled,
feeling puzzled and befuddled,
for the sense of this seemed muddled.
Nails Palmer lay upon the floor,
while
his gang stood all around him,
eager all to jeer and hound him,
now that Tommo had uncrowned him,
like dogs that snarl around a boar
that’s
wounded, bleeding and unable
to charge or toss or bite or gore –
while Tommo waved the pants he wore.
The
trousers that he wore as leader,
when he stood lofty like a cedar –
imagine if you can, dear reader –
were brandished now in Tommo’s claw.
Nails
Palmer on the ground is lying,
in pain and disappointment crying,
while Tommo sends his trousers flying
up and down, from paw to paw.
Then
they hear someone arriving,
someone opens up the door,
and Marlene steps onto the floor.
When
she sees poor Nails a-weeping
and his jeans in Tommo’s keeping,
to his aid she comes a-leaping
in the middle of the floor.
Cries
Tommo: “See how we have dragged him
from his friends and really scragged him!
To please you, Marlene, we’ve debagged him!
His honour’s gone for evermore!
Janice
in the balls has kicked him,
that is why he’s feeling sore!”
Marlene turned to him and swore.
“Tommo,
you’re a gobbin’ bugger!”
Tommo, who had hoped to hug her,
thought she should be feeling smugger
now he’d evened up the score.
He
thought she should be quite elated
that Nails and Janice were deflated,
for surely this was what she’d waited,
prayed and cried and begged him for.
But
now it seemed, from what she shouted,
she’d not rejoice but would deplore
that Nails lay squirming on the floor.
From
Tommo’s hands the trousers snatching,
her fingernails his visage catching,
and painfully his cheek then scratching,
she turned to Nails, who lay before
her,
quivering just like a jelly,
his hands still pressed below his belly,
and said, “Come on, you big, soft Nelly,
don’t just lie there like a raw
chicken,
plucked and ovenready.
Put on your pants and let’s withdraw,
for you’re the one that I adore.”
Canto
16:
in
which Tommo’s hopes are dashed
and Janice holds on to Mouse.
Nails,
retrousered and reshod,
leaves
with Marlene. “Oh thank God!”
cries
Janice, as she clings to Mouse.
Tommo
mutely clutches Scouse
by
the arm, then mutters sadly,
“Something
here has gone quite badly
wrong.
She should have stayed with me,
for
I’m the one who is to be
the
leader of the Halden gang.”
But,
while he muttered, Hotrod sprang
to
the front of all the crowd,
waved
his arms, and cried aloud,
“Now
we’ve finished off with Nails,
it’s
time to snatch the Grail of Grails.
Shout
hooray!
and
shout hosannah!
and
follow me to win the Banner!”
They
poured out from the YPF,
while
Tommo stood there, blind and deaf,
and,
while they sang about the harm
that
they’d inflict, on Tommo’s arm
Scouse
laid a friend’s protecting hand,
and
tried to make him understand
the
time had come to leave the place
where
Nails’s sorrowful disgrace
had
failed for Tommo to procure
the
leadership or his amour.
“Come
on, chaps, let’s get the chairs,”
called Mouse. “It’s more than time for
prayers.
I think that after all these scares
we need them more than e’er before.”
Janice
hooked on Mouse’s arm,
exuding all her artful charm.
She sighed, “Thank God we’re safe from harm
and our frail barque has reached the shore.”
Mouse
edged away to lead the meeting,
thinking, “After shock and awe
like this, a whisky I should pour.”
So
Nails’s leadership is over.
The YPF all praise Jehovah,
but Tommo doesn’t lie in clover,
for Hotrod
led the gang to war,
and
Marlene’s lost to him for ever,
despite his very best endeavour.
He really hasn’t been too clever.
No wonder he is feeling sore.
The
Swarrell gang still holds the Banner,
of further battles guarantor.
Read Effie
next to find out more.
Acknowledgments
The song "Bewitched,
bothered and bewildered", which I have used as the basis of one
recurring piece of verse in "Nails" is from the musical "Pal Joey",
lyrics by Lorenz Hart, music by Richard Rodgers.
I am grateful as well to the late Mr E.A. Poe, who suggested one
particularly complex rhyme scheme that I have used in recurring stanzas
throughout this work.
I am also indebted to Mr J. Racine for assistance with certain
aspects of the plot.
Links
The
Banner, mock heroic epic, Part I: Sid
The
Banner, mock-heroic epic, Part III: Effie
Chronicles
of Halden: The Banner: Index
Robin
Gordon's Homepage
Auksford
Homepage
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