Mountains of the Moon by I. J. Kay

Grady looks up in the sky, thinks drumming moves the clouds long. Dance goes backward and sideways, I jump high and run in and out, Grady loves the warrior dance cos my legs go on and on. One time a man came in a yellow elephant said Africa weren’t safe for playing. Grady kept on drumming like the man and the elephant weren’t even there.
    “We
int
playing,” I said.
    The man still told us bugger off.
    Can hear Mum screaming. Bryce is home. He’s got a new car, white Ford Escort Estate. Don’t know how come he’s got a trailer and a racing car as well. Mum’s over his shoulder, laughing so loud as couldn’t care less. He tends to throw her on the sofa, out the winder, on the piana. Her legs is wild doing scissors. Sheba’s barking, doing swirls on the carpet.
    “Help!” Mum is upside down tween laughs. “Help me, Lulu!”
    Bryce tends to run the bath and throw her in it. Then they go in the bedroom and slam the door. Baby Grady don’t know it’s joking, his face is on the edge of something. Roast potatoes is on fire.
    I take Grady out to look at the racing car. The Sandwich Man stepsout on to the road, been in the bushes under the beech trees. He’s got a saw and a hammer, don’t know how come, and a bag of nails. Mr. Baldwin is in his side garden guarding his greenhouse cos kids on the end triangle is playing football, got jumpers for posts. When the football bounces in the road, the Sandwich Man aims careful, kicks it. Surprises me he gets a goal and all the kids go wild.
    “Mr. Draper! Mr. Draper!” kids is yelling. “Mr. Draper!” Both teams want the Sandwich Man to play for them. He puts his tools down, plays long enough for a goal both ends, then he waves and goes off home.
    Indoors I get the table out full. It was down an alley in Chertsey, me and Mum brung it home on the bus cos it wouldn’t fit in the car. Table legs is barley twist, we done it good as new with sandpaper and hogany varnish. I iron the white tablecloth and set the table nice with buttercups. We int got enough chairs left so I has the piana stool. When they come down Mum is dressed up being somebody else, got perfume and earrings on.
    “Hey, son.” Bryce lifts Baby Grady up so he can touch the ceiling.
    Bryce makes him high and low, all up and down the hall. Spects I’m too big for flying. Grady flies around the lampshade, lucky cos he likes it. Then Bryce lays him down on the sofa, tickles him with his fat moustache til Baby Grady’s squealing for mercy. I has to baste the potatoes.
    When I look they has gone out the front, left the door wide open. Bryce’s hat says Formula One, but the car on the trailer int. TR7, ugly car. He gets in it with Baby Grady on his lap.
    “Brummmm, brum.” Grady turns the steering wheel.
    Mum’s eyes is bluer than the sky and so is her silky princess dress. Her teefs is perfect when she smiles. All the kids come over to look at the TR7, cept Ellie Smithers. She’s come over to look at Mum. Ellie’s eyes is popped; one time she whispered wet in my ear and arst me if Mum was real. No, I said, she come off the top of a Christmas tree. I stand on the doorstep, has to keep going and checking the dinner. Ellie’s got a newcoat, two colors yellow with a frilly neck, she minds me of a daffodil. Spects if Mum said something Ellie would beam and fall over backward. Stead Mum steps up on the trailer, gets in the TR7 with Bryce and Baby Grady. Lady walks past in black trousers, they got big lumps of Sheba’s hair on.
    From Holland, Bryce has brung Southern Comfort and Embassy. Sheba don’t like his brown leather jacket cos she growls at it on the sofa. And he’s got a new belt what’s so fat I spects the edges would cut. Good job Pip int here. For dinner we has chicken and it int even Christmas, Mum got up especial to cook it. We sit down at the table and start. Bryce has got bread sauce on his moustache.
    “How’s school?” he arsts.
    Don’t know what the right answer is. My fingers is