The boys were bored.
‘How about we find something to burn,’ Ginga said. ‘Like some woodlice or something.’
They hunted for woodlice in the woodpile at the bottom of Ginga’s garden. They found some under a rotten log. They collected them together and put them in a dish.
‘What are we going to burn them with?’ said Minnow.
‘My dad has some meths in the shed.’
They broke into the shed and found the meths. They poured it over the woodlice. Minnow took a lighter out of his jeans pocket and lit the meths. They stood around and watched the woodlice burn. They gave off a peculiar smell, and crackled as they burnt.
‘This is so boring,’ Reece said.
‘We could go wind The Whale up,’ Ginga suggested.
‘We always do that,’ said Minnow.
‘Got anything better to do?’
It was easy to get into The Whale’s back garden as the fence was full of holes from where he’d once had a dog he couldn’t control. From the garden you could spy on him through the grimy french windows that led to his lounge. If you stayed behind the overgrown buddlea you could shout things at him and make him try and get up from his lounger chair. He really struggled to get out of the chair, which was fun to watch. He looked like he was beached, which was probably where he’d got his nickname from. Everyone knew him as The Whale.
The three boys took up position behind the buddlea. They could see him, sitting in his chair, his eyes closed. ‘Look at him, lazy fat bastard,’ Ginga said.
‘I hate him,’ Minnow said.
‘Me too,’ said Reece.
Reece picked up a stone and threw it at the patio doors. It clattered against them. The Whale opened his eyes, looked around. The three boys laughed.
More stones were thrown. Most of them hit the window. The Whale tried to stand. He wobbled a bit and sat down again.
‘Reckon he’ll have a heart attack?’ Minnow said.
‘Looks like he might,’ said Ginga.
‘I really hate him, you know,’ Reece said. The others nodded. ‘No one needs to be that fat. It’s just being lazy and stupid. Debbie said she saw him in the Spar, buying porno mags last week. Dirty bastard.’
‘Fucking dirty fat git,’ Ginga said.
‘We should go and find them,’ Minnow said.
‘Let’s do it,’ said Reece. ‘I really hate him.’
The Whale had closed his eyes again, his hands resting across his enormous belly, his legs stuck out underneath him. They looked so thin compared to the rest of him, like they could hardly hold his weight any more.
‘So how’ll we do it?’ Ginga said.
‘We should go round the front and break a window and climb in,’ Minnow said.
Reece shook his head. ‘Don’t be an idiot. One of us should knock on the door, and when he’s going to answer it the other two can go in the back and look for the mags.’
‘Where d’you reckon he’d keep them?’
‘Probably his bedroom. Probably wanks himself to sleep every night.’
‘Uh gross,’ Ginga said.
‘Expect he can’t even see his dick,’ said Reece. They all laughed at this. At the thought of such a fatty trying to find his dick in amongst all that flab.
‘So who’ll knock?’
‘Don’t mind,’ Minnow said.
‘I should do it,’ said Reece.
‘Why you?’
‘You’re both faster than me so you could get out quicker. And he knows me a bit so he won’t be so suspicious. I’d be better at keeping him busy.’
It was decided. Reece went round to the front of the house and the other two stayed behind the buddlea. When The Whale went to answer the door, Ginga and Minnow would go in through the back and up the stairs, and try to find the porno mags. It seemed like a good plan, and certainly beat burning woodlice.
Reece knocked on the front door. After a few moments, The Whale opened his piggy eyes and struggled out of his chair. He waddled towards the front door, stopping a moment half way there to catch his breath. As soon as he was out of the lounge, Ginga and Minnow ran up to the back door and let themselves into the house.
They looked at each other and giggled. ‘What is that smell?’ Ginga whispered. ‘It’s fucking awful.’
‘Smells like shit,’ Minnow said. ‘Like fatty’s just dropped one.’ They found this hilarious, and had to struggle to stop themselves being heard. They looked through the lounge and could see the huge bulk of The Whale blocking the front door.
They headed towards to stairs. They had to go into the hall and creep behind the fat man. They went one at a time, so as not to be heard. He probably had fat in his ears as well, as he didn’t turn round, even when Ginga trod on a stair that creaked.
They couldn’t find the magazines. They looked in his room, in the bathroom, everywhere. Two of the upstairs rooms had nothing in them. The main room had a double bed and a wardrobe. Crisp packets and chocolate bar wrappers littered the floor. ‘This is gross,’ Minnow said.
They heard the front door close while they were still upstairs. They looked at each other. ‘What if he comes up here?’ Ginga said.
‘He won’t. He probably sleeps in his chair. Shits in it as well.’
They waited on the landing to see what he would do. He waddled back into the lounge.
They crept back downstairs, to leave by the front door. As they were reaching it, they stopped. ‘Listen,’ Ginga said.
The Whale was crying. They could see him, in his chair, his back to them. They could see his shoulders moving and hear his sobs.
‘Fucking pathetic,’ Minnow said, opening the front door and not bothering to close it quietly.