Trash by Andy Mulligan Page A

called out loudly, and in a moment there were four guards in the corridor. One said something to Gardo, and he said, ‘Come.’
    I remember their echoing boots.
    We were led to another room with lockers. We were asked to take everything out of our pockets – we had to take off our shoes and shake them. They put everything inside and slammed the locker doors, and we set off down another passageway, and I could hear people in the distance, shouting – I knew the dividing line was close now, and my heart was beating fast. Sure enough, the corridor took us into a long hall, bisected by floor-to-ceiling bars, and the shouting of men was louder still, as if we were coming to some kind of market place. We were led to a gate in the centre, and as the guards opened it, I became aware of the constant banging of metal on metal. Everywhere, doors were slamming, and I could hear the ratcheting of keys in locks. Suddenly we were in a strange no-man’s-land, like a decompression chamber – a space in which the door behind us locked before the door in front was opened. Under all the shouting there was laughter, and – I have to say it – it was like animal noise, with a dreadful echo. It was also, if it were possible, getting hotter, as if something was breathing on us. Orders were shouted: everyone was suddenly in a hurry.That final door was unlocked, and we were beckoned through.
    ‘Welcome!’ cried the guard receiving us.
    He smiled at me. A smile of genuine interest and warmth, which seemed so wrong for the hell we were walking into.

4
    I had expected cells, but all I saw was cages.
    They were on my left and right, and they were the type of cages you might put lions and tigers in, in an old-fashioned zoo. They were just high enough for a short man to stand up in, and they were about four metres long, maybe two metres deep. I looked up and saw that these cages were stacked three high, with ladders up the sides. They continued in long rows, and I could see that there were alleyways between them. It was so terribly hot. As we passed the alleyways, I saw that they led you deep into more cages. It was like a warehouse, but every cage held people.
    As I walked among them, I was being stared at from left and right, and from above. Also, because many people were lying down or sitting, I was being stared at from below.
    The noise was impossible – everyone seemed to be shouting. Gardo put his hand in mine again and it steadied me.
    ‘Hello, ma’am!’ was being shouted, again and again. Cheerful cries – friendly cries, and so much laughter. There were hands stretching out between the bars, and there were solemn faces as well as the laughing faces. ‘Can you spare something, ma’am? Ma’am! Ma’am! How are you? How are you?’
    I looked to the right and stopped dead.
    I was looking at a boy who could not have been more than eight years old, wearing only shorts. He was smiling at me. In his lap sat a younger boy, sleeping.
    I think I said, ‘No,’ and just looked at him, unable to move – stuck for a moment.
    Gardo eased me forward gently, but the eight-year-old started calling eagerly, and he stood up and came to the front of the cage so that he was holding the bars with both hands. ‘Hello, ma’am!’ he said. ‘Hello, ma’am – twenty pesos, ma’am.’
    I turned round in a full circle. I was in the centre of the place by now, and to turn was to lose yourself, because all the cages were identical, and though there were big signs with numbers, they meant nothing to me. I had no sense of direction any more: all I could see was faces and hands waving. Man then child. Young man, then older man, then child again – thin bodies, glistening with sweat. Almost everyone in shorts only, and a smell of old food, sweat and urine.
    ‘It’s OK,’ said Gardo, keeping his hand over mine.
    The guard who was escorting us had not noticed that we’d stopped. Now he did, and waited. I was being asked questions. ‘Where are you going?