Part 3, Chapter 5, of RFV.

                     FIVE

 

    Arthur was a stocky man with a big pointed nose and a very strange hairstyle �" his hair was in the process of leaving him and he’d tried to conceal this by using an ear to ear parting with his hair combed forwards. It looked really convincing and natural. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and carried a briefcase.

    Two other men had strode in behind him and promptly bumped into him when he had halted. He turned and glared at them.

    “This is brother Colin,” he said, making the introductions, “and brother Derick.”

    Colin was a youngish slim chap with short brown hair and eyes set too close together for sanity. Derick was a large well-built chap with short black hair and eyes set too far apart for sanity.

    “Afternoon,” they said in unison to the room.

    “Afternoon, brother Valory,” Arthur said, putting his briefcase on a table.

    Valory stood up and took his cap off in deference to this tremendously important man. “Afternoon, Mr Ackley,” he said, grinning proudly.

    Arthur nodded at him. “Right, brother Valory sent for us because of trouble at pit. Sorry about the cliché. In case you others don’t know, we represent the biggest union on Klyzemadex. We’re the Klyzemadex Unified National Team Strikeforce.”

    Young Wilf sniggered. “Kunts!” he muttered.

    Arthur glared at him. “Watch it, lad!” he warned, holding a fist up to him.

    “Easy Arthur,” Thropely said pacifyingly. “Lad were just takin initial letters o yer group an formin name wi ’em.”

    “Aye, it’s easy way to remember things,” added Stan. “It’s called first letter anemonic”

    Thropely laughed. “Don’t be daft, Stan! Anemonic is small plant like animal wi long tendrils that lives in sea. Word you’re lookin for is ankerite.”

    It was Doris’s turn to laugh. “Ankerite!?” she scoffed. “Don’t be daft, Thropely. Ankerite is a rhombohedral carbonate mineral o calcium, iron, magnesium an manganese. Named after Austrian mineral Professor it were, M.J.Anker. He lived way back in 1772 an died in…in…,” she trailed off and frowned.

    Just then a drunk Sir Ashley staggered in. His wig was on sideways so he too had an ear to ear parting.

    “Look Arthur, he’s copying your hairstyle!” Colin pointed out.

    “Shutit,” Arthur replied.

    “Allo Sir Ashley,” said Doris. “Can ye remember M.J.Anker at all?”

    Sir Ashley sank onto a sofa and frowned. “Oh yes!” he said. “He played cricket for England. Damn fine player he was too.”

    It was Valory’s turn to laugh. “Don’t be daft, Sir Ashley!” he said. “Lad you’re thinkin about was E.J.Anker. Lost both legs in tragic accident at London Zoo when enraged hippo broke out o enclosure an trampled him.”

    It was Wilf’s turn to laugh. “Don’t be daft, our Valory!” he said. “E.J.Anker lived in Aura Street next to Eunice an Tommy Grunnion. He were a schizophrenic ventriloquist.”

    Roger cleared his throat loudly. “I think this conversation is getting a bit silly!” he declared.

    “It is, lad,” Arthur agreed. “Let’s stop all this and get back to reason why we’re here. I vote we have a few moments silence to remind ourselves of the problems in Klyzemadex’s pits an get our roles straight in our heads again.”

    “Agreed!” Colin piped up. “Seconded!”

    Arthur glared at him. “You can’t agree to motions and second them as well, you twat!” he reprimanded.

    Colin looked at the floor. “Sorry Arthur,” he muttered.

    “Who’ll second the motion then?” Arthur asked.

    Roger cleared his throat again. “Well, actually I disagree with the motion,” he said.

    “Blackball!” Derick sneered.

    “Scab!” Colin sneered.

    “Shutit you two,” Arthur ordered. “The brother here’s entitled to his opinion, even if it clashes with mine, I mean ours,” he quickly corrected.

    “That’s not what you said earlier, Arthur,” Colin reminded him.

    “Yeah, you said if anybody’s opinion clashed with yours we had to break his legs,” added Colin. “With big wooden sticks.”

    Arthur tugged at his shirt collar and looked a bit uncomfortable.

    “You never said what kind of wood though,” Derick went on.

    “Yeah, you never said what kind of wood,” echoed Colin.

    “There’s lots of different kinds of wood,” Derick told him. “It could be pick handles or shovel handles or--”

    “For Christ sake shutit,” said Arthur.

    “Or rakes with the prongs taken off or small trowels with the digging bits rem--”

    “I said shutit!!” yelled Arthur.

    Colin and Derick jumped then lapsed into silence.

    Arthur shook his head. “Now let’s hear what the brother has to say about why he disagrees with the motion of having a few moments silence so we can get our roles straight in our heads again.

    Roger cleared his throat again for the third time in a page. “Well actually I’m rather fed up with this role I’ve been given,” he began, a little self-consciously. “I’ve been depicted as a rather weedy, ineffectual sort, naïve at times, hysterical at others.”

    “Ye’ve been in novel from start, haven’t ye, lad?” said Thropely.

    “Well yes I have.”

    “Then stop f****n moanin!”

    Stan sniggered. “Aye, we had t’ wait ages before we came into it.”

    “But it’s not fair!” ranted Roger. “I don’t want to be like this.”

    “Best not t’ complain, love. Things could get a lot worse for ye.”

    “Aye, yer right there, Doris,” agreed Stan.

    “Oh I don’t care!” Roger said dramatically. “I’m fed up being like this. I want to be a strong forceful character. I want to be handsome and have women fall at my feet. I want to be witty and debonair. I want to be the dead John Wayne. What!? The dead John Wayne!? But I never meant to say that!!”

    “Told ye, love. That’s you gettin punished for not bein grateful that ye were in book from start,” Doris explained to him.

    “Aye, Ah’ve come across it afore,” said Thropely. “Characters start saying things they don’t really want to. Can’t control themselves, like”

    “Who’s John Wayne?” asked a puzzled Wilf.

    “Used t’ be a cowboy in films way back hundreds of years ago,” Stan told him.

    “What’s a cowboy?” asked a puzzled Wilf.

    Arthur thumped the table. “Right brothers, let’s get down to business!” he said forcefully. “The union team is here because brother Valory asked us to intervene in the trouble at the pit. So if I could ask the brother to sum up the problem for us.”

    Valory rose. “Well brothers, it’s the Germans,” he began, looking round at everyone. “They’re takin over every pit on Klyzemadex an forcin all miners t’ speak german.”

    Arthur shook his head. “B******s!” he spat. “It’s obvious they need taught a lesson and this is the time to do it.”

    Valory applauded, an adoring smile on his face.

    “It’s time for the working man on Klyzemadex to show these Germans they can’t be pushed around,” Arthur went on.

    Valory applauded again and cheered.

    “Yes, this is a golden opportunity to bring this whole f*****g planet to its knees!” Arthur finished.

    Valory halted in mid-applause. Bring the planet to its knees!? He hadn’t expected this kind of reaction from Arthur. Maybe a little strike. Just a smallish one. No, that was a bit harsh �" maybe a strongly worded letter to the pit management, as long as it didn’t hurt anybody’s feelings. But bringing the planet to its knees!?

    “Yes its knees!” said Arthur. “If we play our cards right I can see this strike lasting for months and months and it will go a long way towards making me a legend in my own mind, I mean mine. Making me a legend in my own mine.”

    Arthur paused and glanced round the enthralled audience of a bemused Roger, distraught Valory, slumbering Sir Ashley and quietly sniggering Thropely and Stan. Doris was continuing with her knitting and was only half-listening.

    “Look at the state of this planet,” Arthur went on, disgust in his voice. “It’s stable, it’s prosperous, it’s peaceful, there’s full employment…and now the b*****d Germans want to rule it! Because believe me they won’t stop at the pits!! They’ll only stop when they rule the planet!!!”

    Thunderous applause followed this. It died down when Colin stopped applauding.

    “Lad’s got point though, hasn’t he,” Thropely muttered to Stan.

    “Aye, he has that,” replied Stan.

    “Right, what we want is some action. Newspaper coverage of the strike, tv interviews, radio interviews, that sort of stuff. We’ve got to get our message across. Derick �" you handle the media.”

    “Usual way?” Derick asked, bringing out a blackjack and thumping it in and out of his hand.

    “No,” Arthur said. “Use some subtlety.”

    “Okay boss,” Derick said, grinning and thumping some subtlety in and out of his hand.

    Arthur nodded. “Next, we’ve drawn up a list of demands,” he went on. “We’re having an all out strike until each and every one of our demands are met fully. Colin �" read out the demands.”

    Roger laughed loudly. Everyone turned to look at him. He flushed.

    “Something funny, brother,” Arthur asked.

    “Sorry,” said a flustered Roger. “I was made to laugh there for no reason.”

    “Ah warned ye, love,” Doris reminded him. “Yer gettin punished.”

    “Can we get on?” Arthur asked. “Right Colin �" read out the demands.”

    Colin took out a folded sheet of paper from his jacket then glanced round to see if he had everyone’s attention. “Here are our demands!” he announced pompously. “First demand : Dear Mum and Dad, just a few lines to say I’m well. Hope you are well. Are the ferrets alright? How are Gram’s piles? Is Uncle Sid still--”

    “What the bleeding hell is that crap!?” Arthur barked at him.

    Colin stared at the sheet of paper and bit his lip.

    “That’s a letter,” Arthur said to him. “You’re reading a bloody letter. Where’s our list of demands?”

    Colin’s eyes darted round the room in panic.

    “And stop darting your eyes round the room like that,” Arthur warned him. “You know it gives you a migraine. Now where’s our list of demands?”

    “On its way to my mum and dad in place of this letter,” Colin said softly.

    “Christ, he’s for it,” Thropely muttered to Stan.

    “Should be good,” Stan muttered back, grinning.

    “I didn’t hear you say that, Colin,” Arthur said, gazing at the ceiling. “I didn’t hear you say that the list of demands which took us forty eight intensive hours to draw up and of which we don’t have a copy is on its way to your mum and dad instead of that letter?”

    Colin was cringing now, waiting for the full brunt of Arthur’s wrath to descend on him. So was the room.

    Arthur the Vengeful was still staring at the ceiling and tapping his foot. Colin started shaking. Eventually Arthur sighed and shook his head. He glanced at Colin, smiled and laid an arm on his shoulder.

    “Oh forget it,” he told him. “Anybody can make a mistake.”

    Colin restarted breathing and attempted a smile.

    “But you make them ALL THE F*****G TIME!!” Arthur yelled directly into his ear.

    Colin fainted.

    Valory and Roger cringed. The others sniggered.

    “Ye’ll have t’ sit down an re-do yer demands, lad,” Thropely advised Arthur.

    Arthur nodded. “I know.” He glanced down at the unconscious Colin. “Bring him round,” he ordered Derick.

    “Okay Arthur,” said Derick. He bent down and dragged Colin’s body round to Arthur’s other side.

    Arthur’s head sank into his hands. “I mean round, as in conscious,” he said from between his fingers.

    “Oh. Right,” muttered Derick.

    Young Wilf nipped out and returned with a bowl of water. Derick took it and threw it over Colin’s face. Colin spluttered and sat up. Derick helped him to his feet.

    “Sorry Arthur,” he muttered groggily.

    Arthur shook his head in disgust. He took a few moments to compose himself then started a dramatic speech. “Brothers,” he said, his voice thick with emotion and phlegm, I see this coming struggle against the Germans as a first class opportunity to unite the working classes on this planet in an ongoing situation which will further my, ah their cause, the cause of trade unionism in general.”

    “Christ, here we go,” muttered Thropely.

    “For too many years now the working man on this planet has been led up the garden path by the bosses,” Arthur went on.

    “Hear hear!” added Valory.

    Arthur nodded at him. “It’s now time for them to be led up the garden path by somebody else �" me, I mean themselves. It’s time the bosses were brought to their knees so the people who really deserve it can run the planet the way they want to under my leadership.”

    Thunderous applause from Colin.

     “So let’s get organised then, brothers,” said Arthur. “We’ll be bringing out the dockers, the steelworkers and the railwaymen in support of the miners. Brother Valory �" get yourself out and tell them we’re on strike as of now.”

    Valory opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, thought better of it, closed his mouth and slipped out of the room.

    Colin �" you’re President of the Transport Union, Derick �" you’re President of the Electricians Union,” Arthur went on. “I want your members out now as well.”

    “What, right now?” Colin asked.

    “Now,” said Arthur.

    Colin and Derick glanced at each other, shrugged then unzipped their trousers and began to reach into them.

    “Not those members!” Arthur told them.

    “Pricks!” a bold Roger said then clapped a hand over his mouth as everyone laughed.

    Just then Valory arrived back, looking a little sheepish.

    “Christ that was quick, brother Valory,” Arthur said. “Well done. Did you get the message out then?”

    Valory stared at the floor. “Well…Ah didn’t like t’ mention it before, Mr Ackley but…but…”

    “But what?” Arthur asked.

    “We don’t have any dockers or steelworkers or railwaymen.”

    Arthur looked at him for a moment then bowed his head. “So they won’t join the union, the b******s?”

    “It’s not that they won’t join the union, Mr Ackley, it’s just that there aren’t any.”

    Something occurred to Arthur. He turned to Colin. “How many transport workers have you got?” he asked.

    Colin bit his lip.

    “How many?” Arthur persisted.

    “None,” Colin told him.

    Arthur turned to Derick. “And how many electricians in your union?” he asked.

    Derick smiled. “Well actually quite a lot,” he said, enthusiastically, “but the only problem is that they’re all away on holiday just now…all of them…to other planets.”

    “How many?” Arthur asked.

    “None,” Derick admitted.

    “So how many of us are there all together, including the phantom holiday makers?”

    Colin and Derick looked away. Pretended they’d seen something really interesting out the French windows. Brushed imaginary fluff from their clothes. Wished they were somewhere else.

    “How many?” Arthur asked.

    “Well there’s you, me, Derick and Valory,” Colin finally told him.

    Arthur’s head sank down on to the table. He started slowly beating his fists on it. “Four!” he wailed. “F*****g four!” Separated from stardom by reality, he wept.

    The very bold Roger stood up. “You said you were going to bring the planet to its knees!” he reminded Arthur. “With four people!? Its knees!? Ha! You couldn’t even bring it to its f*****g elbows!!

    The room dissolved into laughter, Roger clapped his hand over his mouth and a still weeping Arthur was led out by Colin and Derick.