by Kurt Ellis
She felt her body become frozen. Paralysed. As if it was a defence mechanism, her senses were suddenly dulled. Weakened. Her body and mind separated. They stopped communicating with each other.
He must have felt her resistance die, so he released his left hand and reached down to undo his pants. To Amia, it felt as if she was watching these events occur in some Hollywood movie. As if it was happening to some unknown actress and not to her. Surely, it could not be happening to her.
It was the smell that snapped her out of it. The pong of his foul breath that sent an injection of adrenalin straight into her heart. That told her this was not a movie. That this was not happening to someone else but to her.
But she was not going to allow it happen. Never again. Never again. Her freed right hand reached out for something to use as a weapon, anything, and her fingers touched the coldness of his liquor tumbler. She grabbed it and, arm swinging in a wide arc, smashed it as hard as she could against his temple.
Blood sprayed from the gaping wound and his hands snapped to the side of his head. Her palm was bleeding as well, but she did not care as she balled up her fist and drove her knuckles into his face. He tumbled off her and crashed onto the floor. She sprang to her feet and without looking back, she ran. She raced down the passage and down the stairs that had taken her father’s life and out of the house. With bare feet she sprinted as fast as she could, ignoring the pain of stones digging into her naked soles.
Her first thought was of going to Kyle, but then she changed her mind. She did not want him to know what had just happened or to see her in this state. So she ran to Paula.
With each step she took, the numbness in her body slowly evaporated. It was only when she rang the door bell that she realised just how badly her hand hurt. But she did not care. She was safe, at least for the moment.
34
Kyle watched Captain take the bottle of cheap brandy in his right hand and break the seal with a twist of the cap. The Godfathers stood at the Boggies, but that day they were not dressed in their normal attire of jeans and T-shirts. Instead, they wore black suits, or black jeans with black or dark blue golf shirts. They had just returned from laying German back into the earth in a heart-wrenching ceremony. They had paid their respects to the family of their friend. Of their brother. German’s family had accepted Captain’s condolences. Wahied’s had not, earlier in the week. They had glared at Captain as if they blamed him for their son’s death. They needn’t have done that. Kyle knew Captain already blamed himself.
Captain raised the open bottle into the air in the middle of the circle of friends. “For Wahied and German. Rest in peace, brus,” he choked as he poured a healthy amount onto the green grass.
After he had poured for the dead, Captain poured shots for each person in the circle, Kyle and Jimmy included. They dashed it with a splash of Coca-Cola and sipped in silence. Nobody wanted to say anything, nor did they know what to say.
“Shit, bru,” Nick eventually growled. “This is messed up.”
“Waarheid, ek sê,” echoed Big Earl. “I can’t believe they’re gone.”
“You know what you have to do now, don’t you, Cap?” Lester turned to Captain. “We have to hit back.”
“We need to wait,” Captain said calmly. “We need to wait on Lazarus and see what he does.”
“We can’t wait!” exclaimed Bruge. “Captain, we need to hit them back and hit them hard. Today.”
Captain finished his drink and calmly poured himself another. “We wait. Check here, Lazarus is gonna call me later tonight to tell me what he’s going to do about Tyson. Until then, we do fuck-all, except be careful.”
Spider finished his drink, then said just as calmly, “Captain, you know I always got your back, but I have to disagree with you here, bru. We need to strike back. We can’t appear to be weak, ek sê. Like we got no teeth.”
Kyle was surprised to hear Spider openly disagree with Captain like this. Yes, they’d had disagreements in the past, but Spider would always address Captain away from the group. In private. And irrespective of who won the argument, they always addressed the Godfathers as a unified front. But not today.
Kyle could see Captain’s thoughts ticking back and forth like a metronome. The last thing he wanted was for his cousin to change his mind. That would mean an all-out war between the Godfathers and the NBKs. It could cost Captain his life.
“Guys,” he interjected, “Captain is right. You need to wait on what Lazarus has to say. Why put yourselves in danger if Lazarus will sort Tyson out from his side?”
Spider sighed. “No disrespect, Kyle. You know you and me go way back. But this isn’t really involving you, ek sê. This is about the Godfathers. And Captain is wrong if he sits back and does nothing.” He turned to his friend. “I’m sorry, bru, but I won’t let this stand. I can’t.”
With that, he dropped his styrofoam cup on the ground and walked away.
The murmurs of disapproval grew louder and louder from the remainder of the Godfathers. Kyle could see that many of them actually agreed with Spider and wanted to fight back. Captain said nothing, though. He did not respond. He just stood there in silence and sipped on his liquor.
It was an hour later before they had all dispersed. The three cousins trudged home together, embraced by the setting sun.
“Thanks,” Captain said.
“For what?” replied Kyle.
“For having my back.”
“No problem. I’m surprised Spider didn’t.”
Captain shrugged. “So am I. But I can understand his anger, bru.”
Kyle did not respond.
“Aren’t you going to visit Amia today?” Captain asked.
“Nah, Paula phoned me this morning to say Amia isn’t feeling well and that she’s in bed with a bug of some sort. She’s staying over at Paula’s.”
Captain managed a tired grin. “She’s been sick for a week, bru. Are you sure she isn’t twa?”
“Who?” Jimmy said. “Paula?”
The older two laughed. “No, dumb-ass,” responded Kyle. “Amia.” He turned to Captain. “And no, she isn’t pregnant. You know we haven’t …”
Captain gave him a meek grin. “Aight. Just checking.”
Kyle looked at his cousin. Captain seemed to be dragging a heavy load behind him. As if his guilt weighed the same as two bodies.
“You don’t have to take it any further,” he said. “You can just walk away.”
Captain smiled grimly. “I have nowhere to walk to, bru. This is all I have.”
35
Jason Biggs’s character in American Pie was straddling a desk chair while doing a ridiculous striptease dance for the beautiful foreign girl on his bed, but Amia could not even manage a smile. She was tucked under a duvet on Paula’s couch watching the movie. Paula, who was seated at the other end of the settee, had put on the movie, telling Amia it would cheer her up. It didn’t seem to be working.
Paula reached forward and took a sip of the hot chocolate she had made. “Yours is getting cold,” she said to Amia.
Amia stared at the TV screen vacantly. An inanimate doll looking out at the world. Just staring at the flickering screen as if her eyes were made of glass.
“Amia?”
“Oh. Sorry.” Amia reached forward and took a sip.
Paula reached for the remote and turned the volume down. “Sweetie, maybe you should call Kyle and tell him what happened.”
Amia shook her head. “I can’t. I won’t be able to handle it if he looks at me differently. Like I’m … tainted. Like I’m dirty.”
“Nonsense. The boy loves you. The boy is crazy about you. Nothing that happened to you in the past can change that. Remember, none of it is your fault. You did nothing, absolutely nothing wrong.”
Amia kept silent.
“You love him too, don’t you?” Paula continued.
Again silence.
“Amia, answer me. You love him, right?”
A hot tear slid down Amia’s c
heek. “More than anything else in the world.”
“Then tell him, ’cause I know he feels the same for you. Maybe he can help you more than I can.”
“He can’t help me, Paula. And I can’t tell him that I love him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to be hurt again. Not by him.”
Paula sat up straight. “What makes you think he’ll hurt you? Kyle would never hurt you.”
“Yes, he will. He’ll leave me. I know he’s going to leave me. We know he’s going overseas next year. He has a plan for his future, and I’m not a part of it. And I don’t want to hold him back. I can’t. I love him too much already now. How am I supposed to handle the day when he tells me goodbye ’cause he has to go?”
The tears began to flow from Amia’s eyes, and Paula embraced her friend. “I know that. But please stay positive. It’ll work out. Something will happen. It has to. Just trust him.”
36
Captain’s phone rang once, and he answered immediately.
“Hello.”
“Captain? It’s Lazarus. How are you keeping?”
“How do you think I’m keeping, bru? Two of my friends are dead.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, bud. And please give my condolences to the families.”
“I don’t need your sorry or condolences now. I need to know what actions you are going to take.”
“Come again?”
“What do you mean, come again? What are you going to do about Tyson?”
“Do you know for a fact that Tyson did this?”
“Of course I know for a fact. Who the fuck else would have done this?” There was silence on the other end of the line. Captain paced to and fro in the bedroom he shared with Kyle. “You said no bullshit and drama. This is bullshit and drama. Tyson is starting shit.”
Again, Lazarus remained silent on his end. Then he said, “Actually you started the shit.”
“What? How the fuck did I start it?”
Captain heard Lazarus sigh. “You stabbed that fucking lightie, remember? You killed him. And that fucking lightie is family of Tyson.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me you knew Tyson was coming after us from the start, and you didn’t even choon me?”
“Captain, look here. My hands are tied. I mean, you killed his cousin. I can’t ask him to forget that, now can I?”
“Fuck that. They were as much family as I am to a bloody stick. How can you not choon me that Tyson was plotting me?”
“This is no concern of mine. I’m staying out of your bullshit.”
“My bullshit? Lazarus, I work for you. I make you some good fucking money. Who else is gonna do that for you?”
Lazarus laughed on the other end of the line. “Captain. You did some great work for me, son, and I appreciate it. But let’s be honest here. It’s not like you are irreplaceable.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I am not fucking kidding you. Check here, you and Tyson have shit to take care of. However you handle it is your business. When it’s over, then it becomes my business. That’s who I will have work for me.”
“I can’t fucking believe you.”
Lazarus laughed. “You should. Look, you can’t have two alpha lions in the same pride. Doesn’t work like that. Either you or Tyson has to go. Personally, if I can be honest, I would rather work with you, but business is business. I don’t care which dog does the fetching, just as long as the stick gets brought back.”
“So I am on my fucking own?”
“Yup. And a bit of a heads-up: I sold Tyson a few guns today, so I expect things to get a lot more heated. I got some guns here for you as well, if you wanna buy. I got a great pump-action shotgun as well. I’ll give you a good price.”
Captain did not say goodbye. He just cut the call and flung the phone against the wall.
37
Lazarus folded up his cellphone and leaned back in his office chair. His eyes drifted out of his office window to one of his six taxis, which was in the process of having its sound system upgraded in the back yard. But his mind’s eye was witnessing a gun battle between Tyson and Captain, with Captain getting a bullet right in the forehead. Lazarus smiled. For a few months now he had been considering getting rid of Captain. But after he’d found out that José had approached Captain behind his back, it was no longer a consideration. It was a necessity. The next thing he needed was a plan that would not lead the Godfathers back to him. They were all punks in his eyes. Little boys playing gangster. But even a little punk with a gun was a threat. He had been struggling to concoct a strategy, until Spider came up with this scheme. The plan was simple. Get Tyson and Captain to go at each other, knowing neither would back down. Spider would work on the inside to ensure that the Godfathers start doubting Captain’s leadership. This would make the transition to following Spider’s control a lot smoother.
Lazarus pulled open his desk drawer and lifted out a copy of the Daily News from a few weeks before. He paged through to the article he was looking for. The headline read Teenager Gives Back Through Football. It was an article covering the soccer tournament that Captain had organised, saying how all the funds raised had been donated to the school. It was this article that had confirmed to Lazarus that Captain had to go. He, Lazarus, had not become who he was by not knowing who his real threats were, and Captain was a threat. He had ambition, charisma and intelligence – a dangerous combination to a kingpin like himself. It was only a matter of time before the punk started thinking, hey, why am I taking orders from Lazarus when I could be Lazarus?
In fact, Captain was already well on the way to usurping him, even if Captain himself did not understand that yet. He was the one who’d begun branching out the business into the black and Indian areas. And it was Captain’s plan to bring in the harder, more expensive drugs and infiltrate the white neighbourhoods as well. It was only a matter of time before Captain took José or some other supplier up on their next offer. Captain had plans and ambitions that would eventually exclude Lazarus.
The trick to being a successful drug kingpin for as long as Lazarus was that the community around you must protect you. Shelter you. Larazus had this in Sydenham: they all feared him. There was no snitching, because nobody knew how many cops or who else Lazarus had on his payroll. An old woman tried to snitch on him once a few years ago. He had Tyson burn her house to the ground. That was how you instilled fear. But now Sydenham was growing to love Captain. He had set up this tournament, given money to the old-age home and bought groceries for the orphanage. Sydenham was loving him more and more. And love made people do stupid things, like forget their fear. They loved him enough to overlook that he was a gangster. A thug. Captain was a danger to Lazarus, and it was best to get rid of him as soon as possible. The fool. Captain was too stupid to know just how smart he was.
38
The shards of glass clanged off the wall and danced on the tiled floor of Lester’s lounge as the bottle broke.
“That fucking arsehole!” Bruge yelled. “I can’t believe he hung us out to dry, the prick!”
“Well, we better believe it,” Captain said calmly.
“What kind, bru?” Lester protested, pointing at the broken glass. “Who the fuck is gonna clean that up?”
Bruge raised his hands in apology. “Sorry, bru. My bad. I’ll sort it out.”
Captain had decided that the Godfathers should meet at Lester’s place as he felt the Boggies was no longer safe.
“Gents, we can’t just sit back and get picked off,” John said. “Spider is right. We have to waai after them. Put Tyson on the back foot.”
“The big issue is,” Earl replied, “how many ous does Tyson have, and who the fuck are they?”
Captain got to his feet and walked over to the window. He saw a group of young boys, no older than thirteen, playing King, Queen, Jack, Ace with a worn soccer ball on the street, the peeling leather orb spinning off the tar. How he longed for those trouble-free
days of his youth. He no longer felt in control of his actions. He felt as if he was a puppet moved by some unseen master, some unforeseen force that had taken over everything, including him.
He caught a glimpse of Spider walking up the street.
“We’re not going to wait around,” he said calmly. “We can’t afford to. That’s why I sold my car and bought guns. Spider is bringing ’em as we speak.”
Bruge walked over to Captain. “And where did we get the guns from?”
“Lazarus.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, ek sê? We can’t trust Lazarus. He is working with Tyson.”
Captain looked at all the Godfathers that were in the room with him. Only seven left. Lester, John, Bruge, Earl, Shivas, Chillie and Gary. How many more would die before the end of this? Jimmy was there too, sitting quietly in the corner, listening to every word he said. He knew that before the end of this war, he would lose more friends, if not most of the guys in the room with him. Unless they ended it, and Tyson, in a single, swift attack.
“We have no choice,” he replied. “Besides, Lazarus isn’t taking sides. He’s sitting back, and dealing with the both of us.”
There was a quick rap at the door, and Spider pushed it open.
“Wassup, ouens?” he greeted with a smile. “Father Christmas is here with a bag of goodies for you all.”
He set the bag down gently on the floor and unzipped it. It was filled with guns and bullets.
Lester reached in and pulled out an old revolver. “What the fuck is this piece of shit? Looks like something Billy the Kid would use.”