Call Down Thunder (12 page)

Reve didn’t know the men who’d been taken, but he couldn’t help wondering if it could turn out to be a good thing. ‘What you think, Tomas? That lieutenant just say he got
to have a head on a plate bring his captain, and he got two now, so maybe nothing happen ’bout Pelo.’

Ciele shrugged and cradled her baby. ‘We still got Calde in this place.’

And then almost as if by using his name she had conjured him out of the darkness, there was Calde, smelling of sweet oil, all dressed up in white cotton, his long blade hanging by his side.
Sultan lifted his head and growled.

‘This a nice picture,’ he said.

‘No one invite you to this place, Calde,’ Tomas said.

Calde ignored him. ‘You a pretty lucky woman, Ciele, but I think you should take advice, these shacks here burn down real easy; all this ash and cinder floating, come down in the night,
burn your place.’ He looked concerned. ‘Your baby get choke up easy on the smoke.’

Tomas stood up. ‘You got fat grease in your ear, Calde? You don’t hear what I’m sayin?’

‘No one need to listen to you, Tomas. You’re as good as finish in this place and you just ’bout the only person who don’t know it.’ He smiled. ‘Enjoy your
meal,’ he said to Ciele and Arella. ‘I’ll come back and talk to you again when this old man stop bothering you, Ciele. I don’ think your Pelo meant for him to be moving in
on you like this. Maybe I should get him word.’ He turned and headed up the main track, walking deliberately slowly, it looked to Reve, with just that bit of swagger so that blade swung out
and back enough to make a body notice it, until the dark swallowed him up.

It put a stop on their evening. Tomas fell silent, eventually pushing upright. ‘I need to have a word with Theon,’ he said.

‘Don’t you go drinkin in there, Tomas,’ said Arella. ‘And don’t go pushin that man . . .’

‘Don’t tell me what I should be doin, Arella. Tha’s not your place.’ That was the first time Reve had ever heard him speak to his old friend like that. It upset Arella,
that was clear; she looked down and her mouth worked like she was wanting to say something but no words were coming out.

Tomas thanked Ciele for her meal and said she could call on him anytime she had worry. He nodded at Reve, and then as he passsed by Arella, he touched her shoulder, said her name:
‘Arella.’ It wasn’t a question, just her name, and then he walked up the dark track to Theon’s.

It was Ciele who broke the silence: ‘That man done me big favour, Reve,’ she said. ‘And you did too. You and Tomas welcome to eat here so long as we got food
to share.’

They tidied up then and Ciele put the baby into her cot and took her inside. Reve, unconsciously just like Tomas had, touched Arella’s shoulder. ‘Arella,’ he said,
‘I’ll walk you home.’

‘That’d be kind,’ Arella said and levered herself upright. Reve let her take his arm. Sultan got up and stretched, but Reve told him to stay. ‘He’s a good watchdog;
bark like crazy if anyone come by your place in the night.’ Then he wished he’d kept his mouth shut; there was only one man set to bother Ciele’s household and he wouldn’t
be put off by an old dog whose only tactic had ever been to bark and run.

LoJo scratched the dog’s head. ‘Sure, he can stay. You coming by again?’

‘Later.’

Arella didn’t say anything to him on that short walk back to her place, but as he was handing her up the step to her door she gripped his arm. ‘Never hear Tomas talk like he done
tonight.’ Nor had Reve. ‘I think he got something he plan on doin.’

‘Up at Theon’s?’

‘Yes. He goin to try teach Calde a lesson.’

‘Calde got too many men! He can’t go fighting in there,’ Reve exclaimed, pulling away from her. ‘They’ll kill him.’

When LoJo saw Reve come back and running hard, he fell in beside him. ‘What happen?’

Reve told him.

‘But what can you do?’

The lights were burning in Theon’s and music was jiggering out of his old monkey jukebox. They paused at the side door, one on each side, leaning with their backs to the wall.

‘Don’ know. Go in. Tell Theon.’ Reve took a breath. ‘He’ll think of something. Not gonna do nothing.’ He eased the door open and checked out the inside.

The place was busy, men lining the bar, drinking beer from bottles, talking quietly; standing head and shoulders taller than them all was Tomas, his vest was torn and the cut on his forehead
looked raw, but he was a match for any man in there. He looked steady, even dignified, not hurrying his drink. Reve relaxed a little.

Tomas was down at the end and Theon was across the bar from him, leaning forward, telling him something.

The tables at the far side were filled with old men clacking dominoes and, through the open door at the bar’s entrance, Reve could see another group at the table out on the porch, where
the lieutenant had sat just that morning. Reve could see the backs of heads, and a stone jug being passed back and forth. He recognized Cesar, because he glanced back over his shoulder into the
bar, and if he was there then Escal would be too, and if they were there, chances are the man paying for that jug of beer was Calde himself. Perhaps that was what Theon was saying to Tomas.

One of the old domino players called across to Tomas to join them, but there was an edge to the invitation that Reve didn’t quite understand, something veiled. Tomas ignored him, and the
old men laughed, cawing like scraggy birds. One or two of the men at the bar turned and smiled. Somebody mentioned Pelo and someone else mentioned his wife. LoJo muttered a curse, but it was bar
talk, no harm in it.

Tomas stood there, leaning with his back to the bar, not drinking. He didn’t smile; he just looked easy, the talk swilling around him like water around the pier. Then he said something to
Theon. Theon shrugged and moved away and Tomas half turned and smacked his hand down on the counter so hard it sounded like a pistol shot. Everyone fell silent. ‘Calde!’ Tomas said
loudly across that silence. ‘I got business with you in here.’

If Calde was outside he didn’t come running, that was for sure.

One of the old-timers leaned back on his stool.‘Hey, Tomas! Calde don’t wear a skirt. What business you got with him?’

His friends laughed and another one chimed in: ‘You gone call on Pelo wife yet?’

‘She like the way you threw the uniform in the air? Pretty strong for an old man.’

And there was more laughter. But appreciative this time. Tomas shook his head slightly, but he wasn’t distracted by the banter; his eyes remained fixed on the doorway out to the porch.

Reve made up his mind. This was the time to go in, persuade him out of there. He took a step towards the side entrance but LoJo held him back. ‘What’s he doing here?’ he
hissed.

‘Who?’

‘Hevez.’

He was there at the main door. His slick hair a little mussed like he had been in a scuffle, or taken a fall. There was no sign of the other two, just Hevez on his own with Cesar a little behind
him, looking into the bar, his eyes narrow, focusing on one man. Hevez turned round as if receiving an instruction from someone, Calde most likely. When he swaggered up to the bar, a couple of men
moved aside. He called for a rum and held up a dollar bill. Theon shrugged and served him.

At that moment Escal slipped into the bar. Then Calde’s driver, a small man with a thick moustache and a blue tattoo etched all the way up his right arm, came in behind them. Three. All
looking at Tomas, and Tomas not moving but watching them as they moved over to the bar together, a little way along from Hevez.

It was like the moves in a dance, Reve thought, or when the fishing boats worked together, rounding up tuna, taking their station, waiting their time, getting ready to throw the nets.

Reve could see it was too late for him to go in now. It would make Tomas look soft and that wouldn’t be good, not in front of these men.

Hevez picked up his glass and moved along till he was right beside Tomas. ‘I seen you with Pelo’s wife, eating her stew. Pelo know you moving in with his wife?’ His voice was
thin but loud and aggressive. The room fell quiet once more. Tomas glanced at the boy in front of him but didn’t reply, his eyes lifted to the doorway, now filled by the bulky figure of
Calde. The old men clacking their dominoes stopped their play. ‘She give you anything more than her stew?’

Calde’s men laughed, as did one or two more drinkers at the counter. The atmosphere felt suddenly sour and heavy with bad feeling.

‘What’s the matter? You need a drink of rum before you tell people what they come to hear?’

Tomas frowned as if only now hearing Hevez speak. ‘What they come to hear, boy?’

It was Calde who answered this. ‘Why the policeman didn’t arrest you for what you done? You got some special arrangement?’

There was the beginning of angry muttering at this. Reve heard the words ‘informer’ and ‘squeal-pig’. It was all make-believe, Reve knew that. He looked towards Theon,
expecting him to say something. The only ones with a special arrangement with the police were Calde and Theon; Tomas didn’t have anything to do with anyone. Theon stayed quiet, like Reve,
watching.

Tomas said, ‘Come here, Calde, and stop yo’ playacting – you fooling no one. You send Pelo off. You give his name to the police. Now you the one bothering his wife.’

Hevez decided this was his moment to speak out again. ‘You’re the one who give Pelo’s name to the police, Tomas!’ he said, his voice a little shrill. ‘Maybe you
want to tuck him out of the way, get him slapped into prison so you can chase Ciele’s skirt.’

Almost lazily Tomas batted Hevez with the back of his hand so the boy and the drink went skidding across the floor. ‘You should teach your nephew manners, Calde.’ Hevez had twisted
around and was getting to his feet, his expression pure malice. He saw Reve at the door and drew a finger under his throat, miming a knife cut.

LoJo pulled at Reve but Reve shook him off. He couldn’t leave. He tried catching Theon’s eye, but Theon didn’t see him or didn’t want to. Invisible. That’s how he
always had been. Theon was invisible too. Maybe that was the real reason people called him Clever Theon; he knew better than to mess with someone else’s business. Reve felt sick in his
stomach.

‘Manners?’ said Calde, taking the cigar butt out of his mouth. ‘You the one with some reputation when it come to manners. Your manners make people disappear, that’s what
I hear, Tomas. Your manners call the police in. That where you get all your rum money from, eh, talking to the policeman? Is that your business?’ He wedged the cigar butt back into the corner
of his mouth; his dark bristly face was expressionless.

‘No,’ Tomas said. ‘You’re my business, Calde.’ He took three quick strides across the room, so he was up close, looking down on Calde, who, a little startled by
this, took half a step backwards. But Tomas grabbed him, his hand moving so quick it was a blur and then there it was, tight around Calde’s stubby neck.

Reve had seen a snake do that, grip a rat by the neck, fangs digging in and the rat quivering and then still. Calde wasn’t quivering but he wasn’t moving either; Tomas had his thumb
and the four fingers of his good right hand gripping the fat man’s windpipe so tight that Calde’s eyes seemed to swell up like watermelon, like they would pop from their sockets.

But Tomas had his back to the whole bar. ‘In a fight you turn your back on no one.’ Another of his lessons, and one that he was ignoring now.

There was faint
phht
sound, and then another, and Reve saw that Cesar had a knife in his hand and Escal had eased his way to the right and he too held a long thin blade. Hevez was up on
his feet, rigid with excitement, just waiting for them to cut Tomas down.

Reve saw someone else heft a bottle, grip it by the neck.

The old men at the dominoes table quickly swept their pieces into a cotton bag and shuffled back out of the way.

‘Why don’t you stick him?’ hissed Hevez. ‘Get them all, him and that twisted witch girl on the beach.’

Reve stared at Hevez. He was as bad as his uncle! How come someone turn poison like that?

‘Go on,’ hissed Hevez, ‘stick him!’

That was it!

You see a fight happening and you walk away. Tomas had told him that all the time when he was small. Only when you got no choice, then you do what you got to do and you do it quick. Reve
wasn’t walking away and letting these rats do their business. He bolted into the room.

‘Hey!’ he yelled at the top of his voice. ‘Tomas!’

The two men, Cesar and Escal, hesitated. Tomas swung round, still gripping Calde with his huge right hand. He saw the brothers moving on him and dropped Calde, who flopped down on his knees,
wheezing and cursing.

‘Keep out, Reve!’ said Tomas, but it was too late, Reve was in the room, in the dance. Tomas grabbed him and swiftly pulled Reve in behind him and then, not waiting for the two men
to run at him, he took a step towards Escal. ‘You goin cut me, before all these people? You think you goin stick me, you try it now,’ he growled. ‘You want my back. That what you
happier with?’ Escal’s stupid face was blank and sweaty. He glanced at his brother, then his eyes narrowed to razor slits; the pink worm of his tongue poked out of the corner of his
mouth. He lifted both hands, his left with his fingers outstretched, the right with the blade. He looked like a scorpion.

Calde coughed and hawked up spit. ‘Finish him,’ he wheezed. ‘What you waitin for?’

Theon’s voice cut into the silence like acid: ‘All right, enough, Calde. This my place. You got business, you take it some place else.’

Calde ignored him. ‘What you waiting for?’ he said again.

Reve snatched up one of the stools the old men had been using and faced Cesar, who kept edging to the right, trying to circle behind them while Escal made his move: he feinted to the left, then
twisted and lunged. But Tomas was faster than the younger man. He knocked Escal’s blade to one side and swung his left hand down like a club against the side of his head, banging him hard on
the ear and sending him staggering sideways off to the door, where LoJo was watching wide-eyed.