Berengrave, and more
Our second arts edition features work by six unique Medway creatives
Welcome to our latest Saturday creative edition. These will be coming to you on some Saturdays in a manner that, alongside our Sunday interviews, is something akin to a broadsheet’s cultural magazine or a Medway ‘New Yorker’. These editions will feature a mixture of art, music, photography, poetry, short films, and stories from Medway creatives, demonstrating the breadth of talent in our towns.
This edition features the photo and poetry series ‘Berengrave’ by Robin Halls and Maria C McCarthy, music from Brigadier Ambrose with ‘The Battle of Ordnance Street’, comic strip script ‘Bleeding Heart Boy’ by Steven Keevil, ‘Dragon’s Teeth’ art by David Frankum and the short story ‘Wasn’t what it was made out to be…’ by Andrew McAlindon.
These editions are under our Medwayish banner. If you are a Medway creative and you would be interested in submitting work to a future edition, please email medwayish@gmail.com.
First up is a photography and poetry project published in the ‘Berengrave' zine - an analogue publication. Berengrave Nature Reserve is in lower Rainham and these images were taken in February 2021 when it had suffered from widespread flooding.
Berengrave
by Robin Halls and Maria C McCarthy
Noticeboard
There is nothing going on,
though ghosts of sticky marks
edge a landscape of things past.
Rust, spores and lichen
speckle a frame of flaking green;
mottles of brown and cream
suggest an abstract scene.
The trail of a creature maps
a journey south to north.
Or is it a path,
a route through the trees,
the woodland floor and canopy?
A papyrus chronicle of droughts
and drownings, it captures
a tented city of paper leaves
resting on blades of new growth,
triple-trunked sentinels rising and diving,
twisted root fingers extending
and wrapping, and reaching
to grasp with feathery tendrils.
Reflections
Venture into the upside-down:
which is the reflection,
which is the tree?
Ice Arrow
The perfect weapon
dissolves without detection.
Like the Snow Queen’s splinter
that freezes a child’s heart,
it thaws with the spring.
Photography by Robin Halls and poetry by Maria C. McCarthy, the author of two poetry collections. She is a contributing editor (with SM Jenkin) of Inspired by Six Women Who Shook the World.
Brigadier Ambrose are featured in Do It Yourself: a History of Music in Medway. After releasing a series of digital-only singles, the band released their debut and only album to date, Fuzzo, in early 2010 through their own Brigadier Records.
The Battle of Ordnance Street
by Brigadier Ambrose
Brigadier Ambrose are an alternative pop band from Chatham, England.
Do It Yourself: A History of Music in Medway, by Stephen H Morris, is the definitive and indispensable guide to Medway music. Mixing oral history with profiles of the best singles, EPs and albums to come out of the Medway Towns since the mid-1970s, Morris tells the story of how performers such as Billy Childish, The Dentists and Lupen Crook have produced music whose influence extends far beyond the reach of five small towns in the north of Kent.
A script for a short comic book about unrequited love and impetuous decisions.
Bleeding Heart Boy
by Steven Keevil
Page 1
Panel 1: Close up on a reflection of Bleeding Heart Boy trying to tidy his hair in a Car’s Side Mirror.
Panel 2: Wide on BHB as he stands up straight and tries to look smart in baggy jeans and a plain T-shirt.
Panel 3: Wide as BHB picks up a bunch of flowers currently resting on the bonnet of the car.
Panel 4: Long shot as BHB looks small and insignificant with a long journey to walk along the road.
Panel 5: Over the shoulder, we see that BHB has stopped at the corner of the road, and he is staring at a house across the road. It has no front garden, and just appearing in the panel, we can see a Harley Motor Bike.
Page 2
Panel 1: Wide on BHB as he starts to cross the road just as Gorgeous Girl leaves her house.
Panel 2: Wide as BHB stops in the middle of the road when he sees that GG is joined by Biker.
Panel 3: Close on BHB jumps in shock as a Car horn bursts at him
Panel 4: Wide on GG looks over and sees BHB standing in the middle of the road, the flowers and the car.
Panel 5: Close on BHB drops the flowers when the Car horn goes again.
Panel 6: Wide as the car drives past, sending petals flying over BHB as it runs over the flowers.
Page 3
Panel 1: Wide as GG Looks at BHB whilst Biker sits on the bike, with the engine going.
Panel 2: Wide on GG as she walks over to BHB, who looks shy.
Panel 3: Close on BHB as he catches his Bleeding heart as it pops out of his chest.
Panel 4: Wide as GG smiles sweetly as BHB offers her his heart.
Page 4
Panel 1: Close as GG kisses BHB on the cheek.
Panel 2: Wide BHB watches, powerless, still holding his heart, as GG runs over to the biker.
Panel 3: Long shot as GG drives off with the Biker, who sticks his middle finger up at BHB.
Panel 4: Mid on BHB standing alone, holding his heart.
Steven Keevil just is. It’s also his birthday, so you should indulge him.
These images are inspired by David Frankum’s enthusiasm for brutalist architecture and the Dragon’s Teeth on the Isle of Grain, one of his all-time favourite places and landmarks in Medway.
Dragons Teeth
by David Frankum
David Frankum is a local artist and the illustrator of The Flowers of Srebrenica.
Finally, a short story set in the Youth Offenders Institute at Cookham Wood in Rochester.
Content warning: Strong language, violence
Wasn’t what it was made out to be…
by Andrew McAlindon
“Youth Justice Worker”, they called it in the advert.
“Rehabilitating the youth at Young Offender Institute (YOI) Cookham Wood”, “delivering interventions”, “one to one support”…
Ok, this is great. An opportunity to do some therapeutic work with young people…learn plenty… challenge myself… meet some interesting people.
I was soon told the truth…
“You’re not going to be doing any of that, you’re a screw mate.”
“These young lads are just little shits that think they’re hard, but they’re not really.”
“Remember, no matter what, you are in charge. Watch these little bastards.”
“When it kicks off here, it kicks off and you just got to do what you got to do.”
Jesus.
I don’t want to be here. I must leave, or I know I will start an argument with some burly ex-military man with an ego. You know the type... plenty of toxic masculinity, a make-believe story for every eventuality and constantly quotes “happy wife, happy life.”
First day of shadowing…
No welcome, no friendly face.
“Hello, I’m here to do shadowing for the Youth Justice Worker role.”
The lady behind the counter looks at me with a smirk on her face. She directs me towards an office behind her.
I don’t want to be here. Every fibre of my being is telling me how much I am going to hate this but that voice in my head…
…You might learn something. It’ll be an experience, write a story about it. Go on, ANDY! Push on and push forward. Something good will come of this.
I find the office. A group of nice ladies greet me.
“Where’s your accent from... I love it.”
“I’m from Ireland originally but have lived in England about 8 years now.”
“Well, you certainly haven’t lost your accent, have you?”
“No, don’t plan on it neither, hahaha”
A man’s voice booms from behind…
“Young man… Where’s your full uniform? Look at the turnout of your boots. If you’re going to be an officer, we have to see better than this!”
Speak to me like that again, and I’ll… calm down, Andy.
“Ehhm, this is the only uniform that I was given, mate.”
“OK, well, look at your boots. Not good enough.”
He pushes a chair towards me, taps his lap as if beckoning a dog, grabs my boot and firmly places it on his lap. He aggressively starts pulling at my laces, tutting like a schoolteacher who has been disapproving of a young lad.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is smirking and laughing to himself?
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to tie your laces right mate?”
Yeah, she did, mate. She also taught me to stand up to bully pricks like you. You wouldn’t have survived a damn minute in my world, mate. It would have eaten you alive.
I look at him, all this spinning round my head like valid toxic chatter.
”Did that make you feel good about yourself mate?”
Dead silence at first and then, of course, an awkward laugh.
“Just make sure to turn up a little better next time, and when you’re on the wing, presentation is important, mate.”
“Oh, I will mate, I will.”
I was beginning to see already why this place wasn’t working. People like him.
Onto the wing…
No young lads out playing cards, conversing, table tennis, pool… Nothing! The wing seems quiet. I can’t hear anything. I’d almost prefer to hear some sort of hollering. It may make me feel better. After all I have always followed the chaos and madness.
Was I mad following my mind into this place? Only time would tell. Turns out it didn’t take too much time…
I entered the landings office, where some officers were joking and conversing.
“So you’re the new recruits then.”
“Guess we are, yeah.”
“Hahaha. Good luck!”
This was beginning to feel like pulling teeth.
“How come all the lads are locked up in the middle of the day?”
“Covid mate innit”
It’s not covid anymore, ya twat.
“Aren’t the covid restrictions lifted?”
“Well yeah, but we have had issues with staff numbers etc etc bla bla…”
Jesus, where have I heard that one before?
Unlocking time… Very few members of staff. The officers open the cell door. They conduct a search no better than the ones I used to get going to the teenybopper discos back home in Tramore. That certainly wasn’t the way that we learned to do it at training. This is feeling dodgy, there’s a good chance that one of these lads are carrying. Yet zero fucks given.
I’m getting wound up now.
“We’re taking them to education,” a voice says.
“Ok mate, no worries.”
Walking down the stairs, I feel my head turn on. Something isn’t right. There aren’t enough people to be moving this amount of lads. My stomach starts to go…
Something is going to happen.
Standing there waiting to go into another building, a young lad (probably no older than 16) is walking towards me at pace.
He’s big, built like a brick shithouse.
Getting closer and closer. Oh yeah, it’s me he’s coming for.
Stand your fucking ground, Andy. Put on a brave face, don’t show weakness. You’ve been here before, you’ve got bottle. Now front it.
No further than two inches from my face. I could smell this lad’s breath.
“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT FAM?”
Surrounding me like a bird circling its prey.
Stone cold look on my face… Staring into the whites of this lad’s eyes as if to say ‘You will not intimidate me.’ I took a deep breath… Smiled…
“Alright mate, how you doing?”
The young lad, appearing baffled, stood back, kissed his teeth, smiled and said, “FUCKING PUSSY BRUV.”
Pheww… He doesn’t fancy it today.
Can’t lie though, I kind of buzzed off that.
Outside the education block…
“How you finding it, mate?” a voice called from the corner.
“It’s different”, I smirked.
“You have that right, mate. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it”
Not sure I want to get used to it.
“Cheers man. How long you been working here?”
“Just over a year. It has its ups and downs. I used to work in the forces. To be honest it’s not too dissimilar to this place. It’s a battlefield, hahaha”
Yeah, that’s the fucking problem.
Just then, I peered across the way. A teacher was moving one class of young people into another room. No one was saying anything but again I could feel something wasn’t right.
Everything went into slow motion. I watched the woman put the key in the door with a feeling she wasn’t being all too clever. The minute she opened the door a young man swings back and forth. He definitely had something in his hand.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Alarms ringing all around the building. Fat men whose lives were so dull and depressing they would do anything to get a buzz on jumped into the situation without any regard for their loved ones. For a moment, I froze.
Wait, think of your training, Andy!
The word STORM came into my head. I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it all stood for. It could be ‘Stop, think, overcome, reassess and move?’. Basically, it was saying don’t jump feet first into a situation. Ground yourself, find some calm and get the job done. Madness was going on around me, blades flying in the air, voices being raised. Traumatised young men being pinned to the ground like animals. There was a very real chance I could die. I could see the blade inches away, my eyes absolutely fixated on it. Scared but buzzing, I thought back…
It was a sweltering hot day in Maidstone. I was walking up Tonbridge Road, drinking can after can, just hoping that Lee wouldn’t kill me. Lee had been after me quite some time and had promised that when he found me, HE WOULD KILL ME. A very real chance I could die…
He surprised me at my work the previous night, turning up with nothing on but a pair of work shorts, work boots and some sort of tool in his hand.
“Get the fuck outside with me now, Andy.”
I quickly shimmied behind the bar, explaining that I could not fight him outside my workplace, but I would meet him to deal with it.
“If you don’t come meet me tomorrow, I’m coming straight back here, and it’s going to be worse for you.”
I knew he wasn’t lying.
Walking up the road… I closed my eyes and prayed.
Please, if there is a God, I don’t want to die today. I’m willing to take whatever is coming to me as long as I come out the other side. Amen.
I walked past the little B&B where we rented our rooms for sessions when the party just wasn’t ending. I’m lost, ‘Where am I going?’ I thought to myself. Just then…
“Oi! You fuckin’ C U Next Tuesday. Come on then.”
I turned around. Lee, intimidating tats across his chest, crazy curtain haircut, arms out stretched like Petey Dunham from Green Street. He was the real fucking deal alright. I was honest with myself. I didn’t stand a chance. I walked towards him. It was a scary place to be. Like a true catholic Irishman, I blessed myself and ran into battle.
Fuck it, I’m here now. Let’s do it!
I think his knuckles scraped the ground. BANNNGGGG!
To this day, I have never been hit that hard. I was dazed and nearly passed out. I curled up and covered my head. CRACK! He smashed my ribs to pieces and got whatever shots he could off at me. I was out cold. It must have been moments later or a lot longer…
I remember coming too, seeing the pavement, the trees and hearing the cars flying past. I looked up in the sky, passed the trees and thanked God that I was still alive and that Lee had only brought his fists that day. There was no one around. ‘Seems fitting’, I thought.
I lay my hands flat on the ground, pulled my legs towards my chest and got up, all on my own. I could honestly barely walk, limping my way down Tonbridge Road.
I had been so scared for so long of Lee, but truth be told, it was over in an instant, a painful instant nonetheless. I smiled to myself, laughed even. I’m sore but absolutely BUZZIN’! It was the adrenaline, the feeling. It was immense. The sickest side of my nature really buzzed off it!
The blade had been in the air, screams, young people violently acting out, a feeling of panic in the air, officers handling things in what I could only describe as unethical manner. Truth is, I wasn’t scared. In my life, I have had my fair share of battles, challenges, and near-death experiences; I no longer feared death (at least not in the same way). It was fucking LIBERATING. It was the adrenaline of these moments that truly made me feel ALIVE!
I jogged towards one young lad who was waving around a blade, approached him side on, put my arms around his waist and hung on for fucking dear life!
That night I got home, kissed Lily, told her I loved her, looked around the house I lived in, enjoyed my dinner, said goodnight to my unborn son, called a few people, thanked God for my life, my family, my children, my health. My second chance and the ability to live to fight another day. I hit my knees, thought about those who I love here on earth and all the young lads trapped in that oppressive, punitive institution and said…
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.
I would not be returning to Cookham Wood.
Andrew McAlindon is a youth work professional with an array of lived experience, father of two boys and partner to Lily. A proud Irishman with ambitions to one day do his own thing.
Be seeing you.