The Survival Game (44 page)

He huffed, and then continued. ‘I kept saying ‘no,’ but he just wouldn’t fucking listen. He wouldn’t have it! I was out the game by then, so I didn’t have anything on me, and told him just to go home. But still, he was having none of it. Wouldn’t leave. So in the end, I had to call up some nasty people to get what he wanted, it was the only way. Well, turned out those pieces of shit, they sold him dodgy gear.
They don’t care as long as they get their fucking money.
And it…’

He sighed, just as his eyes began watering up.

‘
… It killed him.
’

He wiped the tears from his eyes, and groaned again just as a lump formed in his throat.

‘I’ve been carrying that guilt ever since that night, Leesh, and it’s killed me.
His
death, my gran’s death, both my fucking fault. Me! The drugs and the booze and the gambling, it’s all to block out the guilt. To make it go away. If I’d just spoken about it all, I could’ve avoided all the shit I’ve brought you since. The debt, the caravan shite, I could’ve avoided it all. But, I couldn’t tell you, couldn’t put you through it all, couldn’t watch you suffer like that, have you thinking
that
about me. About me as a… 
murderer.
I fucked up and I know it and I’ve tried so hard to make it better, believe me, but this shit in my heart is too much, it always gets the better of me…

‘Always.’

He took in a deep, juddering breath.

‘But, it’s all out now. And it feels…
good.
You know? It feels really good to be getting this shit off my chest.

‘And the other day when I came in all fucked up. I know I hurt you, and yeah, I was out of it, whacked out my fucking mind on coke. But it was a one off, the first time in ages. I saw…
Jesus, what scum there is in this world, Leesh, I swear to God!
Would you believe me if I told you I saw this thirteen year old kid shoot his sister? Yeah, believe me. Watched him with my own eyes tear his own sister apart with bullets just to get in with a gang. I couldn’t get her face out of my mind. The blood, the screams… The drugs blanked it out. Wiped it temporarily from my mind.
But what use is that?
Once the drugs wear off, the images come back, sometimes stronger. Nah, I’ve finally learnt that the best remedy is communication. Like what I’m doing now…’

He scratched his forehead and closed his eyes.

‘Listen—you were perfectly right to leave me after that. After all the promises I made, after all the lies I’ve told, you’re perfectly right to stay the fuck away from me. I totally understand. But it’s all over now… yeah, yeah, I know you’ve heard that shit before, but it’s true. And you know what? Now the reality has set in that I’ve lost my family, the only thing I had in this fucked up world, I more than realise that I can’t carry on like this. No way. No way. This is no life for anyone. No one.
I’m a good man.
With a good heart, not like these other pieces of shit running around the place. You know, you wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen the past week—I’ve seen people selling drugs to save their families. Others killing for personal gain. I’ve seen that the good people in life get killer diseases, while the pieces of shit get to run around the streets causing havoc for whoever’s left. These two eyes of mine have seen it in all its glory.’

He sighed again, and tapped his fist on the wall next to him in a rueful manner.

‘But, no more, Leesh. Not for me. It’s all in the past. Whether you believe me or not, I
know
what’s in my heart. And I know what I want for the future. And I’m gonna do it,
I swear to God I am…
’

He straightened his back, and took in another deep breath.

‘My cousin, Phillipo—I don’t know if you remember him—he’s got me a job,’ he said in a more upbeat voice. ‘Working in his church. As his assistant.’

A stifled laugh abruptly sounded on the other end of the line.

John smiled broadly ’cos right then it sounded so sweet.
So, so sweet,
gamota. ‘
I know, I know,
’ he said, now bizarrely embarrassed. ‘
Me
working in a church.
Crazy innit?
But, it’s a job,’ he said in a more serious tone. ‘It’ll mean a proper legit income for the first time in… God knows how long. And I’m gonna put everything I’ve got into it, and I’m gonna save up every penny I earn, for… you know, our kid. I’m not gonna fuck up any more. And I’m gonna repent.
I’ve got plenty of time left to do that…
’

He sighed.

‘Listen—I… You’re living with Ishmael right now, aren’t you? Listen, I don’t mind. I… I
want
you to stay there with him. He’ll protect you. Shit, he’ll look after you better than I ever could… I mean, I don’t want you living in that caravan anyway, it’s no place for a pregnant woman to be. And I wanna give you some space. Some time away from me and my shit. I’m gonna put all my effort into this job, make sure it works, make sure I save my money. Change my life.
Heh,
I know you’ve heard that shit from me before on more than one occasion, but back then I said it blindly, hoping that things would just change, not realising that it was down to me and no one else. This time I really mean it. I can’t fuck up again. I’ve already lost my family and if I mess this up, I’ll lose the only job I’ll probably ever have and piss off Phillipo to boot, and I don’t want that either.

‘Besides, I don’t think God will be too happy with me.

‘Listen, I want you to have your space. I want you to be away from me for a while and for Ishmael to provide for you.
Okay
?’

He scratched the back of his head again and faced the wall.

‘I was wondering as well… when I get paid, I was wondering if you might wanna, you know, meet up one lunchtime or something for a Chinese or something just for a chat. Not now! Maybe in a few weeks, months, once I sort myself out and you’re totally comfortable.
If
you wanna see me again that is. I don’t blame you if you don’t….But, if you do, then you know, maybe one lunchtime or something? Chinese—
Kung Po chicken, crispy duck, prawn crackers.
MSG. Lots and lots of MSG… that kind of thing.

‘You…
up for that?
’

There was more prolonged silence as John waited with baited breath for an answer. It felt strange, it was like he was asking her out for the first time all over again, except he was about a million times more nervous this time even though now she was his wife. Bizarre. Across the street, a couple causally walked past, holding hands. Young lovers. Just like they were once upon a time. He closed his eyes and prayed, butterflies twitching in his stomach.

Then after what seemed like an eternity, an answer came. ‘
We’ll see…
’

John half smiled. It wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for but it was a lot more positive than a straight up ‘no.’ It was a half positive, which with a lot of hard work could be wrenched into a full positive.

‘
Yeah?
’ he asked. ‘Good. Good. I’ll let you decide. Okay? I’ll-I’ll call you when I get paid. Let you know how my new job is going and all that. Hopefully, it’ll work out fine. Hopefully…’ He paused for a second. Then—

‘Leesh… I… I love you.’

There was more silence.

‘
I have to go
,’ she then said, and John understood immediately. It was way too early in this patching up job to be saying things like that. He began cussing himself for making such a bad move.

‘Yeah-yeah, I understand. No-no problem. I’ll call you. Okay?’ he stammered.

‘
Okay,
’ she replied. ‘
Bye.
’ She then hung up.

John pressed ‘end call’ and bit his fist.
What the hell are you playing at,
gamota
?

He’d gone from getting a half positive to pissing her off in the space of a few seconds. She wasn’t going to just forgive and forget about all the Yousif
skata
easily. He’d have to work at it, and work hard—bit-by-bit, day-by-day—to win her back.

Slowly slowly does it,
re
…

Yeah, it was true. But, he couldn’t help feeling worried that he might’ve just fucked it up even—

A loud crash behind him made him spin round and grab his gun from his belt. He scanned the area with wide eyes, pointing his Glock indiscriminately at the alleyway ahead of him. His eyes fell upon the black cat that had just jumped up onto a brick wall from an old bin over to his right, sending it crashing to the ground in the process. The cat stopped dead and stared at him with its piercing green eyes for a couple of seconds, feeling him out. John waved his gun at it and it dived down onto the other side of the wall.

John’s instincts relaxed.
Why so jumpy,
re
?

He shook his head and casually approached the bin. He stood it back upright and stared inside it. He glanced from it to the gun in his hand, then back to the bin. He had a strong urge to ditch the gun, it wasn’t him any more, not where he wanted to be in the future. He had to move on.

He went to throw it in when at the last second he saw the cat’s piercing green eyes burning in his mind’s eye. They morphed into Valeria’s cold eyes and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck spring to attention. Yeah, he wanted to get rid, but at the same time, what if one day he was walking down an alley just like this and happened to bump into one of Marek’s boys, or one of Dread I’s crew?

He looked back into the bin again. A spot between two black bags was waiting for his gun, nice and snug.
Just drop it in,
re
, and you can put it all behind you…

He contemplated that thought, the pros and the cons, the past and the future. He wanted to so badly, but at the same time he had to be streetwise, to think of his self-preservation. He’d pissed off a lot of people the last week, and no doubt they’d be out for revenge. It was another one of those choices. The ones where you had
no
choice. Once again, he was torn in half, but had to go along with it.

He sighed, nodded his head in understanding, and then pushed his gun back into his belt. ‘Just till the dust settles,’ he told the empty bin. ‘
Just till it settles…
’

He closed his eyes and the alleyway suddenly became quiet. He didn’t like it. It was
too
quiet. He didn’t want to hang around there any longer than necessary, so he went straight back to his car and got in. He looked behind both shoulders, then checked his rear view. Those horns were still on his head, but they were sort of fading into nothing now. Instead of being solid black like before, they were now more like shadow. He guessed that in another couple of days, the drugs would probably wear off fully and he’d no longer see any horns or haloes anywhere.

And then I’ll never know if I ever lose the damn things…

You’ll know,
re
. In your heart,
he heard Phillipo say in his mind.

He smiled faintly and nodded in agreement.
Yeah, I’ll know, I’ll know…

He sparked up a
cigarro
, took a long puff, and sighed.

And only time would tell…

He slipped a fresh DnB CD into his stereo. Soon after, he was nodding his head to the music as he pulled away onto Wood Green High Street and headed for home.

STAVRO YIANNI is a writer of crime/horror fiction, based in north London.