Home Girl

by Alex Wheatle

  I rolled up my sleeve, flexed my fingers, and watched the veins dance in my wrist. I studied my wedding finger and thought no bruv in this world would ever put a ring on it. That didn’t happen to chicks like me. That didn’t happen to women like my mum either.

  My bum felt numb. I wriggled about to try to get more comfy. A faint buzzing of flies filled my ears.

  They told me Mum had used a bread knife. This broken bottle will have to do. I hope it doesn’t hurt. I hope it happens quick-time. It’ll be proper embarrassing if it doesn’t quite work and the meds save my sad self. I don’t wanna step around with bandages covering my arms and peeps pointing at me. “That’s the off-key girl who tried to murk herself.”

  If they can find him, Dad will have to sober up to bury my ass. Maybe Ms. Almi can get the girls to do a dance at my funeral. Colleen and Tony can put on their Afro wigs. Pablo and Sharyna can get their groove on. That’ll be a neat way to go.

  I tensed my arms and closed my eyes. Soft rain pitter-

  patted on the roof.

  “You’re not using drugs, are ya?” a voice called out.

  I looked around. There was a man standing outside. He wasn’t too tall. He was wearing a flat cap. A blacky-gray beard scratched his chin.

  “Er, no,” I replied.

  “This is my garage,” said the man. “Been waiting for over a week for the council to give me a new door. They said they were coming yesterday.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “I’ve had young druggies in here taking their dragon pills. It’s like I have to be out here 24-7 to keep an eye on it.”

  “Sor . . . sorry,” I repeated.

  “Go on, get out of it,” the man demanded. “Find somewhere else to take your drugs.”

  I stared hard at the broken bottle before standing up. I dropped it before hot-toeing away.

  “Take your friggin’ mess with ya!” the man yelled after me.

  I gave myself a cuss attack for leaving behind my biscuits. I wandered around for a while. The area was full of sidewalks, dead ends, alleyways, little greens, and skinny trees. I couldn’t really tell where roads started or quit. I heard whoops and hollering coming from behind a wide row of apartments. I headed toward the noise.

  When I turned a corner, young bruvs wearing black baseball caps, black head rags, black T-shirts, and name-brand sneakers played a serious game of basketball on an open-air court. It was surrounded by a high-meshed fence and watched by chicks wearing platform sandals, tattooed eyebrows, black berets, and white lipstick. I thought I was well down with cuss words but listening to these bruvs playing b-ball taught me a new dictionary.

  For a few minutes, I quit worrying about where I was going to crash tonight and watched the game.

  “Naomi!” someone called.

  They can’t be calling me. No one knows me in these ends.

  “Naomi!” the female voice hailed again.

  I turned my head and tried to locate where the tone came from. This pretty chick rolled toward me. She had long black hair and a red dot between her neatly shaped eyebrows. Who’s she?

  “Naomi,” she said again. “It’s me. Sunny from the dance club. Ms. Almi’s class.”

  “Oh, yes,” I pretended to remember. Gosh, Naoms! You really need to start paying proper attention to the chicks in your dance class.

  Relief tasted good.

  “I thought you lived in Ashburton ends,” she said. “What are you doing in North Crong sides?”

  “Er . . .” I couldn’t think of a reply that worked.

  “You look a liccle lost,” said Sunny.

  “I am,” I admitted. “A friend dropped me down here. I wanted to go to the club and fill out some forms and stuff.” I couldn’t tell if Sunny was falling for my spin. “And I think I took a wrong turning and got lost,” I explained.

  “It’s easy to get lost in the North Crong projects,” Sunny said. “It’s all mazes and alleyways. When I moved here it messed me up too. I think it made my mum cross-eyed.”

  I tried a half smile. “My inner sat nav is way off dial,” I said.

  “Anyway,” Sunny said, “don’t sweat your brains. I’ll walk you there.”

  “Thanks.” My heart quit banging my ribs.

  While Sunny led me out of the projects, she told me about how she loved Bollywood movies, reggae, and street dancing of all kinds. Her dad drove a taxi and her mum worked in a cupcake shop on Crongton Broadway. She bust a laugh when I said I loved ancient Hollywood musicals, baking, and horror movies.

  I felt bad about wanting to chop my veins. There are nice peeps in this world, Naoms. Don’t let the bad-mind ones force you to murk yourself.

  “Okay,” Sunny said. “We’re very close. Just take the next left and you’re there.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You’re a legend. I owe you big-time.”

  “The center usually closes at ten. It’s ten to now so you’d better flex your toes and get a rush on. I’ve gotta step home. I’m not meant to be out at moon o’clock.”

  “Thanks again,” I said.

  I hot-stepped to the end of the road and broke into a jog when I turned left. I recognized where I was. The community center was on the other side of the street. There were no lights on. Monkey standing in the rain. Gonna need a plan C.

  Crossing over to the center, I slapped a bell at the side of the front door. No response. I waited for five minutes. I don’t know why but I pressed again. Tears ran down my cheeks and dribbled over my lips. I could still taste Kim kissing me. This is not going well. But I’m not heading back. Why don’t I have Ms. Almi’s number in my phone? Maybe she could foster me. Learning to speak French would top off my ratings neatly.

  I looked around. No one was about. High above me the moon was fat. I stepped to the side of the building where there was a short driveway. A black Range Rover was parked there and behind that was a dumpster filled with cardboard boxes, office papers, and trash bags. There was a window that overlooked the dumpster. It wasn’t that high. That’s my answer.

  Climbing into the dumpster, I picked up a piece of wood. I could just about balance on the dumpster’s edge and blitz the window. Making sure my footing was secure, I covered my face with my left hand and koofed the window. I glanced over my shoulder to check if anyone had heard the smash. The hole was just big enough to allow my hand go through and turn the handle. I pulled it open. I didn’t hear any burglar alarm. Relief once again soaked my arteries.

  Flicking away the glass on the ledge, I then pulled myself up and through the window. I landed on the dance floor. I saw a dark reflection of myself in the long mirror. I s’pose this is a better option than lying murked on some cold garage floor that’s polluted with piss.

  In my head, I could hear Ms. Almi tapping her cane on the floor. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq! Fantastique, Mademoiselle Brisset! Très bien!

  Yes, I can crash here tonight.

  There were mats that they used for yoga piled up against the far wall. I pulled two off and placed them in a corner. It’s better than a park bench. Do you remember that night, Naoms? You hot-toed into the night and it freaked the jumping jilly-beanies outta Dad. Maybe I should’ve done that more often. It might’ve sobered him up.

  I didn’t want to think about Kim, Nats, Louise, Colleen, Tony, or Samantha. Not on this night. I just wanted to be on my own. And I hope Mum doesn’t gate-crash my dreams.

  * * *

  Some hours later, I heard a noise.

  Someone came through the window. Something dropped to the floor.

  I sat up. My heart dropped and punched my stomach. It might be the feds. Even worse, it could be Kim and Nats coming to delete me.

  “Naomi!” someone called. It was a man’s voice. It was Tony.

  I lay back down.

  “Naomi!”

  “Is she there?” asked another voice from outside the window.

  “It’s too dark to see,” replied Tony. “I’m gonna drop down.”

  He landed with a
crunch of broken glass on the floor. I felt the vibrations beneath me. His footsteps approached me. I kept perfectly still.

  “She’s here!” he called.

  Tony crouched over me. I didn’t wanna admit it but I was glad it was him. “Naomi,” he said again, this time softer.

  I opened my eyes. “What took ya?” I said. “Think you’re getting too ancient to climb through windows—you almost landed chin first.”

  “I’ve come to take you home,” said Tony.

  I sat up. “Home? I haven’t got a home. I haven’t had a home for the longest time. And I’m not going back to the unit. You can rip up the page on that one and burn it. Not with her there.”

  “You don’t have to go back there.”

  I brushed off the dust that covered me. “I just had to fly away from there,” I said. “All the prick fiddlers she warned me about, but she didn’t warn me about herself. How messed up is that?”

  “Are you okay?” Tony asked. “You’re not hurt, are you? I was just about to leave but I spotted the smashed window.”

  I wasn’t okay but I nodded anyway.

  “How did you know I was here?” I wanted to know.

  “Colleen said I should check the dance studio out. In our relationship, she not only has all the beauty, she has all the brains too.”

  “You’ve got a dose of sense too,” I said.

  Tony smiled. “Can I help you up?”

  “Tone,” I said, “I just high-flied it away for the night. I haven’t lost my legs.”

  He busted half a chuckle.

  “Can . . . can I stay here for a couple more minutes?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “Just to chat.”

  “Oh . . . okay. Chat about what?”

  I hesitated. “Er . . . my mum.”

  Tony sat down beside me and gave me an awkward smile. Another two minutes went by until I spoke.

  “I could’ve saved her,” I said finally. “Been thinking about it while I’ve been lying here. To tell you the ugly truth, I’ve been thinking about it every day since it happened. I can’t help but think about it. It’s a living film inside my head.”

  Tony’s voice was soft and calm: “None of us expect you to forget about what happened to your mum, Naomi. It’ll probably stay with you for the rest of your life. That’s natural. Your mum was the closest person to you in this world and you’ll always miss her. To still grieve her is okay.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “But it doesn’t mean you can’t be happy,” Tony went on. “You were very young. She wasn’t your responsibility. She was responsible for you.”

  “What’s going on in there?” yelled Louise from outside. “Are you coming out?”

  “Just a minute!” shouted Tony.

  “But I could’ve saved her,” I insisted. “If only I checked in on her. She was taking the longest time having that bath.”

  Tears rolled down my cheeks. Tony placed an arm around my shoulders. I’m not sure how long I sat there leaking tears. Five minutes, ten minutes. It could’ve been half an hour.

  Eventually I found my voice again. “We better get in motion, Tone,” I said. “If Louise tries to get through that window it could all end up tragic.”

  “She’s very worried about you,” Tony said. “We all are. Sharyna was in tears earlier.”

  Bless Sharyna. I shoulda really taught her some more dance routines.

  My stomach remembered it was peckish. “If I go back to your place tonight, can I make myself a ham omelet?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “And you got some Coke, right?”

  “If we don’t, we can stop off somewhere and buy some.”

  “All right, let’s make strides before Louise goes into one,” I said. “She’s all right, really.”

  * * *

  We left through the front doors of the building. Louise was waiting outside. “Sorry for getting ya out of your bed,” I said to her, “but Kim really freaked the tonsils outta me.”

  Louise and Tony swapped a long, knowing look. I could tell something was very wrong. My insides chogged and churned. They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car, Tony in the back and Louise in the driver’s seat. I dropped into the front passenger seat. Louise turned the ignition and I tuned the car radio to a dance station.

  “It’ll be good to see Sharyna and Pabs again,” I said. “I’ve missed ’em.”

  “They’ve missed you too,” said Tony. “I’m going to text Colleen to tell her we’re on our way.”

  “So you want to go back with Tony and Colleen on an emergency placement until I find something more permanent?” Louise asked.

  “Yeah . . . I do.”

  “I’m thinking of a new start for you, Naomi,” Louise said. “It’s going to be new beginnings for both of us.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to look at Tony. He shrugged. I turned around to face Louise again. “What d’you mean, a new start?”

  She ignored me and focused on the road ahead.

  “Louise!” I raised my voice. Then I turned to Tony. “What’s going on?”

  He wound down a window. “It’s a bit stuffy in here,” he said.

  “Louise!” I raised my tones even louder.

  She slowed and parked on a terraced street. She turned off the engine and switched off the radio. I didn’t complain. For a long second, she just stared at her feet. My stomach cramped up. Shit! This is serious.

  “I’m moving on,” Louise said.

  “What d’you mean?” I said. “You’re gonna work in far-off ends?”

  Louise shook her head. “No.”

  “Then what?”

  She sucked in a long breath and glanced at her glove compartment where she used to keep her smokes. Instead, there was a bag of gummy bears there. She offered me and Tony some but we both declined. She chucked one into her gob and started chomping.

  “This job gets to you after a while,” she said. “The stress builds up. It starts affecting your personal . . . I need a break to think about me and what I want out of life.”

  “What?” I said. “You’re flaking outta your job? What about all the kids you’re responsible for?”

  Louise nodded. “Flaking? I guess you can call it that.”

  “But who’s gonna be my social worker? You haven’t quit cos of me, have ya? I know I can be too gobby sometimes and I’m sorry if I’ve been stomping on your stress cells lately but—”

  “Naomi,” Louise cut in, “it’s not you. It’s me. I want to try new things in my life. Think about starting a family and so on. I’m thirty-eight. I have a good man with me who wants—”

  “But . . . but . . .”

  I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Louise gets on my tits at times but . . . but she’s my social worker. She can’t leave me. I didn’t know what to say. I stared through the windshield. I fought the tears building up behind my eyes with everything I had.

  Louise placed her hand on mine. “You’ll be all right,” she said. “You’re a survivor. That’s what I love about you. You’re so resilient.”

  “What does resilient mean?” I asked.

  “That, er, that you’re a survivor.”

  “So it’s nothing to do with what went down tonight?”

  “No, not at all,” Louise replied. “Me and my boyfriend have been talking about it for a while. He . . . he deserves more of my time . . . my attention.”

  “So you’ve quit raging at each other?”

  Louise gave me a standard really look. “I wouldn’t call it raging, Naomi . . . Sometimes . . . sometimes he felt I brought my work home a bit. Well, not a bit.”

  A grin split my cheeks and I couldn’t help busting out a mad chuckle. If I didn’t laugh I’d be bawling lakes. “So things are back on the level with Mr. Man,” I said. “And you’re ready to make babies. If I was you, I’d stop at two cos any more than that and your stress cells will be ringing. Trust me on that.”

  “One would be nice,” L
ouise said.

  “And you gotta have me as one of the godmothers,” I said. “I’ll be the top-ranking godmother out there. Trust me on that. I’ll take your baby out for walks in the park and make sure you breastfeed it for the longest time.”

  Tony and Louise grinned.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked. “If I’m godmother I won’t forget birthdays, Christmases, school prom, and school play nights.”

  Louise restarted the car and I switched the radio back on. I couldn’t really bop my head to the music though. It smacked me hard that this might be the last time I rode in Louise’s car. I couldn’t blame her for wanting a normal life. I wanted that too.

  No one said anything till Louise turned onto the Goldings’ street.

  “You spoke about a new start for me as well,” I said. “How’s that gonna go down?”

  Louise didn’t reply till she parked and switched off the engine. “I take it you don’t want to go to another unit in Ashburton?”

  “That’s not happening,” I said. “You’ll have to pollute my insides with nerve gas and conk me on the head with a slab before I say a wide yes to that.”

  “There’s a new unit in South Crongton,” she said. “It’s run by a man I know—Mr. Cummings. I used to work with him. He’s very compassionate and experienced. The rooms have en-suite bathrooms and—”

  “South Crongton,” I broke her flow. I remembered how nice Sunny was to me. “There’re some nice peeps in Crong Town. It’s not all about bruvs with shanks and guns.”

  “And if you do agree to go there,” Louise said, “I think it’s about time you went back to a normal school. I was going to bring this up at our next meeting.”