Born Different (10 page)

Gabe tasted the
fear and had to get out and half thought about abandoning the van;
here and now was a good a time as any. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t
leave his friends in the lurch. But now the fear of taking
responsibility and running his own life was at a level that was
below this level of fear he had living this sort of life.

After today he
would focus on the sculpture, The Exhibition and nothing else. Gabe
knew that the other art students would already be setting up their
art work, arguing over their little spaces, unlike Gabe who
wouldn’t set up until the last minute. He didn’t like the idea of
leaving his paintings in the school hall, showing off before the
big event. There was no need. Gabe also couldn’t bear the thought
of having to hang around with the others that were exhibiting,
banging on about some bullshit or other. Feigning praise that the
other exhibitors crap was good, buying into all that installation
nonsense. Gabe knew himself well enough to know that, under all the
pressure he was under at the moment, it would wind him up so much
that he would want to do something dramatic. Something totally out
of character, like throw the other artwork, (that was actually just
a brick labelled ‘mind’), through the other art work, (that was in
fact just a plate of glass labelled ‘conscience’). Just the thought
of it filled him with a satisfaction. But more than likely, he
would just suppress these feelings and make himself ill. Or worse,
just give up. Take his own paintings down and go home.

He couldn’t
afford to give up, not now. All he had was his art. He sensed that
his art was his only ticket out. The Exhibition, Gabe had decided,
believed even, would be the crossroads and the difference between
success and failure.

Gabe threw his
cigarette out the window. He didn’t usually like to litter, but the
road he was parked on was like one big open trash can.

Gabe remembered
the envelope that Gina had given him this morning and he took it
out of his pocket and tapped it on the steering wheel half a dozen
times before he just ripped the top off it. Opening it, he realised
that there was not just a photo but a folded piece of paper and
another scrap of paper.

Gabe held the
photo and took a good look at his father for the very first
time.

Of course it
was his father. It was like looking at a photo of himself but a bit
older and in a place he had never been to. The photo looked dated
and his father was dressed in all black leather biker gear, but it
was Gabe’s genes for sure. On the scrap of paper there was an
address, an address in this city. His father’s address? Maybe?
Unfolding the last piece of paper gave Gabe the biggest shock of
all. It was a pencil drawing; beautiful, fine, energetic and
stunning. But the most shocking thing about it was how uncannily
similar it was to the sort of thing that Gabe drew and painted. It
was not one of Gabe’s drawings, he knew that, but it could have
been. He recognised it but at the same time he had never seen it
before in his entire life. It was a life drawing of a woman but
with wings.

The questions
in Gabe’s mind came thick and fast. Did he know? Had Gina told him?
Had he seen Gabe’s art work? Gabe took another look at the
photograph and he knew he had to see if he could find him. He
needed to go and talk to this man. This stranger that was like
looking into a mirror image of himself. It was all so familiar and
at the same time, so completely new.

Gabe angled the
rear-view mirror to take a look at himself, to compare his own face
to the one in the picture. But all he saw and thought was...
You
look a mess!
It was one thing not wanting to fit in, another
looking like a total tramp. If they got some money today, he was
going to go immediately and buy some new clothes and do something
about his hair. Something that made him look better, that suited
him a bit more, that would make more of an impact. Something that
would help him to change. It was time for action. For Grace, for
The Exhibition, for so many things. And now too, for his dad.

Gabe was miles
away when sudden, heavy banging on the back doors of the van was
the signal he needed to put the van into gear. Johnny and Dave
scrambled into the back and Gabe saw Frank stand up from his hiding
place on the wall and give a thumb up and disappear. Seconds later,
he reappeared around the back of the van almost skipping and he
jumped in too.

“Go! Go! Go! GO
man!” Dave and Johnny’s faces were red and beaming with the thrill.
Gabe had to wait for Frank as he tried repeatedly to get the van
door to shut properly. It was a farce, thought Gabe and he could
have just giggled, if he wasn’t so scared. The door was still not
shut fully when Frank looked like he’d put his all into it so the
others grabbed Frank to sit down with them and finally, Gabe put
his foot down on the accelerator and drove off and away from the
scene of the crime.

Back at Dave’s,
the four of them sat in the back of the van going through their
loot. It was an alright haul, a few thousand quid and a few easily
saleable things, but nothing massive. Enough but not great. The big
cardboard box that Johnny had been so excited about just turned out
to be a dead weight full of books and old clothes.

“We must have
missed the big one but they’ll know now that they ain’t safe and
that’s half the war won. When the big boys find out that Alistair
can’t even keep his own shit safe, they’re gonna be coming to me
begging.” Johnny was chuffed with himself.

“Or guns
blazing,” Dave said complete with pistol fingers.

“Don’t,” Frank
was looking distraught, “just don’t!”

“Take a chill
pill Franky boy, I know what I’m doing.”

Johnny gave the
boys their cash, a grand each; not bad for a morning’s work. Easy
money they all agreed but Gabe could feel the cash in his pocket
and the words banging in his head that he just couldn’t ignore
were...
Dirty money
. And you couldn’t save ‘dirty money’ you
had to get rid of it. You had to spend it as soon as possible.

Gabe found
himself standing in the middle of a huge shop, the sort of trendy,
fashion conscious hip shop that was his worst nightmare. He knew
that he didn’t have the option of trying anything on, nor the
desire to spend the rest of the morning in here when he had an exam
to do in a few hours.

He stood in
front of a rail of shirts and held each one up to himself, one by
one. He had no idea. The fussy and flowery stuff looked awful, the
green not so bad and the black looked ok, he thought.
Is this
why men shop with women or people do it in groups
? Gabe
wondered.
How the hell do you choose from all this?
Gabe
scanned around the store and it just seemed to have racks and racks
of clothes. Could they really all be
that
different? And
there were lots of mirrors, enough mirrors for Gabe to see every
angle of himself in bright strip light. Gabe remembered why he
hated this experience so much. The security guy caught his eye so
Gabe picked up a black jacket that was hanging on the rail in front
of him, more to look like he was actually here to buy some clothes
which he was, than because he liked it. Gabe didn’t know what he
liked. Gabe laughed to himself at the stoned looking, security
guard who now seemed to only have interest in staring at him.
Please
, Gabe thought. This guy was overweight, old and very
unhealthy looking. If he had to make a run for it, Gabe reckoned he
would be home with his feet up before this guy reached the end of
the road. But Gabe had money, he wasn’t going to make a run for it.
For once, he was a bona fide customer.

Gabe put the
jacket on and zipped it up under his chin. It was black, it had a
hood and it had lots of pockets. Fashionable? Gabe had no idea,
checking the price tag it seemed a bit pricey but it was
comfortable and it accommodated the wings well. A woman walked
past, blonde and slim but she must have been least thirty years old
and she gave him a wink. Gabe immediately and involuntarily blushed
and lowered his head but a voice in his head confirmed, ‘Sold!’

He had the cash
but not the time nor the privacy to try every damn thing on. He
would definitely get the black jacket and then he thought,
Sod
it! Why not wear all black?
Less hassle, more professional,
more striking! How much easier would it be to always wear the same
colour? No need to ever clash ever again. Genius! And wasn’t that
what all the designers of all the fabulous clothes wore themselves?
Grace only ever wore black clothes and she might even take notice
of him if he was a bit more stylish like her. Dressing all in
black, there had to be something in that.

The clock was
ticking, the security guard was watching and Gabe was feeling hot
and bothered so he just grabbed a couple each of everything he
needed in black. Black shirts and t-shirts, black socks, jeans and
jumpers. Everything black! Done.

Gabe dumped the
heap at the till.

The man on the
till, that Gabe judged to be about the same age as him and probably
a part-time model or something, was wearing almost full make up and
had bright blue hair. As he ran Gabe’s items through the system he
informed Gabe of the must-have, last-minute purchases, the
special-offers this week, the buy-one-get-one-free. This week it
was hair dye and eye liner for men, in any colour you desired; red,
orange, green, pink, blue, white, black.

“You’d suit the
black hair dye you would. And your eyes. Wow! They really would pop
with a little bit of eyeliner under those lids. If you buy the dye
you get the eyeliner free!”

Gabe tried to
smile convincingly and felt like he couldn’t say no and potentially
offend this man’s tastes and opinions for the sake of £2.99. And
why not? He said he wanted to be different, totally different Why
not go the whole hog? It was no time for pussy-footing about
it.

“Yeah? Thanks.
I’ll take them too then.”

Gabe just
wanted to get out now. He felt light headed but it felt good.
Leaving the shop, he felt a sense of achievement that others might
feel climbing their own mountain. He had got into a routine. He saw
it now. All those years of school and now he was breaking free. He
really was putting in some action to change and it felt good. It
was one thing thinking about everything, having dreams and ideals,
but nothing ever changed without some form of action. Gabe felt as
if he had almost entered into another dimension. The sun was
shining but it was still cold and the air was clear and fresh. He
had no memories in his head from neither this morning nor any
thought about the immediate future of the exam this afternoon. Gabe
was surrounded by the moment and he felt revived already.

If he went
straight home, he could do his hair and change before the exam.
There was just about enough time to dye his hair and get dressed in
his new clothes. Enough time to make the transformation. And Gabe
knew that if he didn’t do it right now, he never would.

It would be the
last time he saw any of the other students before The Exhibition;
it might even get people talking about him and not for the usual
reasons. It might even make him feel different to the way he
usually felt and that couldn’t be anything but better. Gabe smiled
to himself and realised, as if for the first time, just how
miserable he had been.

*******

The huge school
quadrangle was heaving with shrills and hysteria. The morning exam
takers were leaving as the afternoon ones were turning up. Ill,
pale looking kids were sitting with their heads in their hands.
Some were crying, others were jumping up and down on the spot
holding on to others doing the same thing, for whatever reason. So
much tension and pressure for such young adults that should be
running free and enjoying their youth. Yet here they were instead,
feeling like they were on deaths row. Someone was sick, someone
else fainted.

Gabe realised
now how nervous he was. His stomach was doing somersaults and he
felt a bit sick for the smell of it and then he felt faint too. He
suddenly realised that he hadn’t had anything to eat yet today. It
was a bit like witnessing some trauma or fiasco except this was all
planned and imperative. The authorities were putting them through
this. This is what they had signed up for. This was a form of
torture. But Gabe felt a protective bubble over him. He didn’t even
feel like Gabe, dressed the way he was now.

He had to go to
the bathroom, just to splash his face with water, to run some cold
water over the pressure points of his wrist to cool down. He was
not looking forward to the next few hours of sitting in one place
with a hundred other sweating, breathing kids.

In the cool,
damp, piss stinking room with urinals lining the wall, Gabe stood
in front of the row of sinks in the dimly lit boy’s loos. He tried
to calm himself down, he tried to breathe deeply; get some more
oxygen into his system but the air was saturated with the mix of
pungent ammonia and bleach. He tried to clock into a place of
peace. He had rushed to get here after the transformation and he
needed to calm down a bit. Everything was getting too much.

Gabe checked
his reflection in the mirror. He took the hood down of his new
jacket, so that he could see his now newly dyed black hair. He
checked the eyeliner. Dressed and framed all in black, he hardly
recognised himself. The change was far more dramatic than he had
imagined it would be.

Suddenly,
without warning, one of the cubicle doors flung open hard with a
crash and in the reflection of the mirror Gabe knew instantly that
it was Grace.

She walked over
and stood right next to him and turned the taps on full at the sink
right next to his one.