The Dirty South (23 page)

‘That's good,' agreed Noel. ‘See you about nine. If you're late we'll be missing.'

‘Don't worry, bruv. I'll be there.'

Noel killed the call. Then he remembered something. ‘Oh, shit! My mother's drink!'

He ran out to make Cara's gin and tonic as I wondered what it would be like to grow in a family like Noel's. I came to the conclusion that I'd be similar to Noel, just more cynical.

Flaxman Road was more or less the Camberwell end of Coldharbour Lane on the ghetto side… It was in Bricky and within range so we didn't mind driving there for the link. I did kinda protest about supplying Nathan with food 'cos I didn't really need his money. But
Noel bitched again about how he needed some quick P's for his ride and Cara's hair.

‘Can't she wear a wig for the time being?' I suggested.

‘Fuck you, Dennis! Would your mum wear a fucking wig! No, bruv. She's gonna buy some decent hair. Simple as.'

Two days after I bought the food. It was one of those sticky July nights that flies and shit love. Noel had his car roof open and the air conditioning on at full blast… He was wearing a white vest and I had to admit, his new thick gold chain looked good against the black skin of his neck. He had a half-smoked fat-head in the corner of his mouth and he was bopping his head to some rap by DMX, his favourite rapper… Priscilla wasn't with us. She was babysitting while Cara went to her bingo. I was wearing my Jamaican football shirt and my Chicago Bulls baseball cap. I had the passenger-side window wound all the way down and I was proper liking the breeze licking my face.

We headed to Flaxman Road via Angel Town and Loughborough and it was still light enough to see the buff girls on street and the rude boys on road. When it's a hot day Bricky is always vibing and the chicks look their best wearing their multicoloured weaves, crop tops, gold studs in their bellies, hipster jeans or short denim skirts. Man! Black ghetto chicks know how to walk sexy.

We pulled up in the Flaxman sports centre car park just after 9 p.m. There were only about seven parking bays available and we filled the last one. The sports centre itself was the kinda place where poor brothers worked out and ugly chicks did aerobics… Shottas and white people who had a decent job wouldn't be seen dead in the place. By now the sun was casting long shadows and from the council estates that surrounded us, you could hear hip hop and bashment music blowing over from every block.

Noel switched off the engine as I climbed into the back seat. The passenger seat was now awaiting Nathan. I began building a big-head as Noel relit his. We watched a salad-dodging white girl walk past us while towelling her head. The sweet smell of skunk filled the ride and Noel wound down his window all the way. Someone
was looking at us through the large window of the sports centre but we didn't give a fuck…

‘He's late,' said Noel. ‘Why are brothers always late?'

He switched the car battery on and pressed play on the car stereo. DMX's ‘Look Thru My Eyes' spat out from the speakers. The heavy bassline vibrated the ride and I thought that one day Noel would duppy his battery doing this and he won't be able to start his car. The track was starting to fade when we saw Nathan appear in front of the windscreen. He was all smiling and shit, as if he was just about to wok a girl. A bit of sweat was wetting his temples but it was still humid… Noel opened the door for him and he sat down in the passenger seat. He seemed very lively. Too happy? Almost anxious, looking this way and that. I put it down to the fact that he hadn't been shotting for a while. Maybe it was just excitement that he was getting back in the game.

‘What's gwarnin?' he greeted, looking more around him than he was at Noel.

I sensed something wrong.

‘Where's the P's?' asked Noel.

Nathan produced his biggest smile yet. From his jacket pocket his left hand emerged with four hundred pounds. He gave Noel the money. Nathan had this strange expression going on. I couldn't quite read it and before I could, seven shadows suddenly darkened the front windscreen and the side windows of the ride. I looked out of my window and there was a gun pointing at my head. This brother with a messed-up beard beckoned for me to get out of the car. Noel had to do the same. Nathan got all apologetic like. He was shaking his head, ‘They made me do it, bruv! They made me do it, bruv.'

Nathan splurted. Fucking pussy. He disappeared around a corner. I had a body rush of fear charging through me. Courtney Thompson was looking at me with hating eyes… ‘Let Nathan go,' Courtney said. ‘He won't say nothing.' A gun held by another brother was pressed against the back of my head. A similar pistol was now trained on Noel's forehead. Noel's face was changing into all kinds of expressions. I wondered if he could tolerate this shit.
No was my answer. He was gonna switch. I had to do something. Rage was polluting him fast, it was in the eyes. I had to calm him down before he got himself shot.

‘Just cool, Noel. Cool.'

‘Peel them,' ordered Courtney Thompson. His burning eyes never left my face and I guessed this was more about me than it was about a jacking. He was wearing this white dress thing, a brown skullcap and the hair beneath his chin was now untamed. To me it still looked fucked up to see a brother I used to go school with dress in that way. I wondered if he was the last brother I would see from my schooldays… I glanced through the window of the sports centre. No one was there. Where's the fucking receptionist? Someone must be witnessing this shit?

They took our P's, our skunk and our mobile phones. They even swiped Noel's half-smoked big-head. They pulled off my Jamaican football shirt and my head got caught in the collar. In their aggression, they ripped the seam from the collar to the right sleeve. My granny bought me it for Christmas last year.

‘Couldn't do it on your own, could you, Courtney?' Noel raged. ‘You fucking pussy.'

Courtney still glared at me as a gun butt struck the back of Noel's head. He fell to the ground.

‘Just cool, Noel,' I said. ‘Cool!'

Nike-clad feet began to wade into Noel's body. ‘You fucking pussies!' he screamed. ‘PUSSIES!'

I moved forward but was dragged back. ‘Noel, it'll be alright, bruv. Trust.' I felt a gun butt strike my neck and I almost fell over. I glimpsed Noel. It wasn't gonna be alright. The Nikes were now aimed at his face… It was sickening to watch but I couldn't turn away. I tried to move forward again and I received a gun butt in the temple. I momentarily lost my sight and I dropped to my knees. Someone then booted my backside and I stood up again… I tried to say something to Noel with my eyes but he was no longer looking at me.

‘WHAT ARE YOU?' one of the attackers shouted at Noel. ‘WHAT ARE YOU? MUSLIM OR CHRISTIAN?'

‘Fuck you! You fucking pussy! Go wok your mum!'

The words barely came out of Noel's split lips. I now felt tears on my own face… ‘Noel, bruv. Just…' I tried yet again to wriggle myself free but something blunt hit my right cheekbone. I didn't even see what it was. Courtney Thompson was still glaring at me, not even bothering to look at Noel's battering. I got another gun butt. This time in my face. I was now on my knees. The inside of my head felt hot.

The Nikes never stopped. Kick after kick. I was thinking that boots to the face in real life sound nothing as loud as they sound in a movie. Noel's resistance was now over. His nose was pumping blood and his eyes were now swollen and closing… Blood was now spotting the concrete.

‘MUSLIM OR CHRISTIAN?' one of them yelled. ‘Say MUSLIM and we'll stop.'

Noel shook his head. Even now he wasn't gonna give them the pleasure. I wished he would just say it, murmur it. Just so the beating could stop. ‘I'M A MUSLIM,' I shouted. ‘Satisfied? Stop beating him, bruv… I'M A FUCKING MUSLIM!'

‘I want
him
to say it,' said Courtney Thompson in a low voice. ‘Then
you
. You'll get your turn.'

The kicking continued. All over his body. There were no more yelps of pain. It would have been kinder to just pull the trigger, simple as. I hardly noticed the tears dripping off my chin. My best friend laying still in front of me, trying to curl himself into a foetus position, trying to protect his head. And I could do nothing. If someone studies my DNA long after I'm dead, they'll see that image. Kick, kick, kick. A fist opened my eyes. Courtney Thompson still staring… Courtney Thompson still hating. For a short moment I thought
burn
all the religious shit out of it. This was just about sex. Me being more wokable to women than him. It was in his eyes. Maybe he was impotent or something?

They all started on me. I felt yet another gun butt behind my left ear. I could hardly focus my eyes but there was a figure in front of me. Right up close. It was Courtney… He was proper hating. His eyes wouldn't leave me alone. ‘All this 'cos I could've woked Tania
Blake?' I said. ‘And trust me, Courtney, she was proper begging for it.'

‘He won't say nothing,' he said to his crew. ‘No, he won't say nothing.'

Courtney punched me on the side of my face. I was bordering on unconsciousness but he placed his right hand beneath my chin and raised my head. ‘There are two types of people in this world. Those who know where your girl, Akeisha Parris, lives… And those who don't. Angel Town! Second floor. Need I go on? You two look so kinda together, especially when you go out as a family with her son, Curtis.'

By now I knew it wasn't worth saying anything. I just hoped I would leave this place alive. Noel's body was crumpled on the concrete. He wasn't moving. But at that moment I saw something in Courtney. Something deep and troubling Something that he could never reveal. I was in a fucked up state but I saw it. It was a wild guess but it was there in his eyes. Could he be a chi chi man?

‘From this day onward, you're paying tax,' continued Courtney. ‘A hundred notes a week for the privilege of shotting in Bricky. You pay or we pay a visit to Akeisha. Simple as. And I would enjoy woking her.' He turned around to his crew expecting some kind of applause, some kind of salute of how
manly
he'd just been. I searched his eyes and I was convinced he was a shirt-lifter. Attracted to me.

My mind began to play tricks on me. I had just recalled the time Noel nicked from a corner shop for the first time when Courtney kicked me in the jaw. It's funny what you remember during shit like that and the last thing I recall is that Courtney was the only one in his crew not wearing Nikes. He was wearing these black brogues and I thought it just didn't go with his white dress thing. It's a fucked-up memory but that's how it was.

W
aking up in a hospital bed, I focused and saw my family around me. Mum was closest, sitting on a wooden chair. She was holding her handbag tight and it was obvious she had been crying. She looked so tired. It was only when I turned my head to look at her that I realised my head was wrapped in bandages. A banging ache made me grimace but I still managed to give a weak smile for Mum. She returned the smile and leant towards me. She placed her hands around my cheeks and chin and she started to cry again. Her lips were trembling as they touched my forehead. I couldn't really call it a kiss but a vibe of warmth and familiarity went through my body.

I glanced further along the side of my bed and there was Paps and Davinia. Paps look was one of relief and anger. It seemed he had been controlling his fury for quite a time. Davinia seemed to be in shock. Her mouth was slightly open and she couldn't take her eyes away from my head. A nice sensation filled me, knowing my family were around me, but it quickly turned to dread. The ever-present image of Noel laying lifeless on the concrete pounded
my senses like a Lennox Lewis combination… Kick after kick. His face gradually getting messed up before my eyes. Kick after kick.

‘Noel?' I spoke, barely having the energy to get his name out.

Mum then placed her arms around my shoulders and gently put her head upon my chest. She looked towards the bottom of the bed as she cried. I looked at Paps and he was desperately trying to avoid my gaze. Davinia covered her eyes with her palms, turned sideways and started bawling. She wasn't holding back and I have never seen her like that before or since.

‘Noel?' I asked again.

I knew the answer but I wanted someone to confirm it. I searched my paps' eyes again and this time he had the courage to look at me full on. I felt a horrible pang in the pit of my stomach and this weird feeling in my throat. There was a pause as Paps collected his thoughts. He then scratched the side of his nose and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. He took in a breath and said, ‘They tried so hard to revive him on the scene but he was dead on arrival… He had a blood clot in the brain. I'm so sorry, Dennis.'

A single tear ran down Paps' left cheek but he didn't wipe it away. It just went down to his jaw and there it stayed for a while. I felt empty, like someone had stuck a hoover to my spirit and whatever sweet vibes of life I had were sucked away. I wanted to be duppied like Noel. Wherever Noel was I wanted to take my sad black ass there so he could take my place here. I felt like a cheat, a fucking cheat! Why Noel and why not me? Courtney Thompson hated on
me
. He had no issues with Noel. If I wasn't there it would have been an everyday jack, simple as. Noel would have lost his skunk, his mobile and his Nikes but he would have lived.

Tears were flowing but I still kept looking at Paps. I knew he had been where I now was… He had faced his maker when he was flung over a fourth floor tower block balcony by a Bricky crime lord. It was only now that I finally understood why he never wanted to talk about that night. Fear of what feelings you may bring to the surface… Pure undiluted dread. I guess it's difficult for men to accept that sometimes we can't face up to shit.
Things are sometimes too scary. I wondered if he felt like a cheat for escaping death.