‘Matt can deal with the likes of you with the whiff of his breath.’ I say this with full belief.
My belief gets through to Beauty.
‘I thought you didn’t know anyone here except this Daisy character.’ He is sounding nervous now.
‘We don’t know Matt here,’ I say. ‘He came with us from our village. To look for our cousin Joti.’
‘Joti!’ both Beauty and Brain go together. They look at one another, then at us.
‘Joti,’ says Brain again, on his own this time. ‘You can’t mean the Joti? The one who…’ he don’t finish the sentence.
I take out Joti’s photo and show it to them. ‘Do you know him?’ I ask all hopeful.
Hena don’t seem too pleased about my asking them, but she don’t object either.
Beauty and Brain look at the photo, then at each other, then at us. I can tell it is the same Joti they know.
I’m truly happy about it. I don’t care what he did. I want to know where he is. I want to see him.
I want to see him like I’ve never wanted to see anyone before.
Except Matt.
Beauty and Brain take us to what they call a ‘safe’ place. Hena is not too happy about it, but all things considered we decide to take the chance.
Behind the backstreet, beyond a forest of rubbish bins in an enclosed area for use by the hotel people, on the side of an empty building waiting to be rented, is a shed in a warehouse connected with the empty building. That is where we end up. The ‘safe’ place. If Beauty and Brain think of beating us up here we’ll put up a good fight, but I won’t bet on the result.
Come to think of it, I’m not even sure of the ‘good fight’ bit.
All Beauty and Brain want to know is our story. At least to start off. We tell it to them, backwards. First about Daisy, who she is and why she is coming to see us in front of the Hotel; then on to the death and disappearance of Mobu, along with Matt; and of course how and why we happen to be here in the first place. To look for Joti. Full circle, our story takes. Beginning and ending with Joti.
Beauty and Brain are known as Kagu and Tony, but we start calling them Beauty and Brain which they quite like.
Beauty likes being called Beauty on account he is a show-off. Brain likes being called Brain on account he is stupid.
Anyway, the point is that Beauty and Brain or Tony and Kagu or whatever, they show many strange emotions and make many strange faces as we tell our story.
At first I don’t think they believe us. But then they look at our faces as we speak and listen to our voices as we speak. Then I think they believe us.
When we finish they go to a corner and talk, looking our way now and then. It seems they’re arguing, but quiet so we don’t hear.
They walk back to us.
‘We don’t believe you,’ says Beauty, looking worried.
‘Pull the other one,’ says Brain, looking sideways.
‘Pardon,’ says Hena, looking puzzled.
‘You tell great stories,’ says Beauty, trying to sound sarcastic.
‘You don’t believe us!’ I say, trying to sound amazed.
‘That’s what I said in the first place,’ goes Beauty, pushing his chest forward; but it falls back.
‘Yeah,’ goes Brain, turning his eyes at us then turning them away.
I think: Either they don’t believe us but are not sure; or they believe us and are not sure.
I soon find out.
‘You say Mobu was killed, full of holes?’ Beauty half says half asks, half believing half disbelieving.
‘Yes we do,’ says Hena, ‘for that’s what happened.’
‘I saw Mobu this morning,’ Beauty carries on. ‘We both saw Mobu this morning.’
‘How do you know Mobu?’ I ask.
‘Everyone knows Mobu. He’s the rider on the bus. Everyone knows him. He was known even before he became the rider. Then there’s what happened to his wife. Everyone knows Mobu.’ Brain looks at us, from one to the other, then says, ‘Everyone knows Mobu,’ for the umpteenth time.
Beauty says, ‘Mobu came to see my brother this morning. My brother, he’s an idiot. Does nothing but write poems. He used to work once, now no one will have him. So he writes poems no one will have. Mobu came to see him this morning.’
It’s our turn to show strange emotions and make strange faces.
‘If that’s so, then you shouldn’t believe in us at all,’ says Hena after some thought, ‘but you don’t sound too sure. Why’s that?’
There is a little silence.
‘With Mobu was a skelly boy,’ says Brain. ‘Like you, only worse. His name was Matt.’
Beauty adds, ‘So we think as there is a Matt, maybe what you say is not all lies.’
We are all quiet for a while, though we’re truly pleased to hear about Matt.
‘You’ve told us what Matt looks like,’ I say. ‘Describe Mobu.’
Beauty thinks. ‘I don’t know. Nothing special I remember. Just like any grown-up, I should say.’
‘How grown-up?’ asks Golam.
‘Oh, thirty maybe; maybe less. Can’t be any surer than that.’
‘The Mobu we know looked like an old man,’ I say.
‘But not the Mobu I saw in the desert with Matt,’ says Golam. His eyes shine.
Hena’s eyes shine. ‘Nor the Mobu I saw with Matt in the house with the many rooms.’
I remember. My eyes shine. ‘And the Mobu I saw with Matt in the hills of Bader was young too.’
By now Beauty and Brain believe we’ve come from the fruit farm.
In all these surprises we forget about Joti. And Daisy.
We mention this.
‘Your bodies may have a day or two to go yet,’ says Beauty, ‘but your minds’ve already gone.’
Brain finds it very funny, but we don’t.
They say if we rush up, find Daisy and get the money from her, they’ll tell us about Joti.
They nudge each other in the ribs, wink and grin.
We start back towards the front of the hotel.
Beauty and Brain say they will come with us to the Main Road, but no further. They say they’ll wait there for us to come back. With the money. They say we must have money in order for them to take us to where Joti is.
We’re not plain dumb as they might think. We know they are after our money. But we also know we have no choice. If we want to find Joti, they are our only hope left. On account we are sure of one thing. They are not lying about knowing Joti. Whether they will or even can take us to him we don’t know again.
But we have to take the chance.
We are still many shadows away from the Main Road when we see about ten, fifteen boys and girls in dirty tattered clothes come running out of nowhere.
They are not skellies like us, but they are not big and healthy like Beauty and Brain.
‘Don’t go out there,’ they shout in twos and threes, pushing past us. Brain grabs hold of one of them with big strong hands.
Beauty says, ‘What’s up?’
‘Police,’ says the thin little boy.
‘Raid?’ asks Brain.
I am surprised to see him all pale and nearly shaking.
‘We don’t think so. It’s more like a riot in town The police is blocking the Main Road so that the crowds don’t come that way and bother the VIPs in the Regent or the embassies nearby.’
‘Are you sure they’re not looking for us?’ says Beauty, still cool.
‘I’m not sure of anything,’ the lad pipes back, ‘but I don’t think so.’
Beauty pulls him out of Brain’s grasp and pushes him away, aiming a kick at his backside. It’s not too hard a kick but it sends him stumbling ahead like shot out of a gun.
‘What’s all this riot about?’ I say.
‘It’s poor people who can’t get enough food and things led by idiots like my poetry-writing brother,’ says Beauty.
Hena is surprised. ‘We thought everybody had food in the city.’
‘Well you thought
wrong then, didn’t you.’
Just then we see police coming that way.
Beauty and Brain disappear so fast I don’t see them move.
I know I have been having trouble seeing recently, but this is more than that! This is speed. I feel quite jealous.
I don’t think I want to say much about the next few days. To tell the truth there is nothing much to say about them. Nothing really happened. Nothing you’d find interesting.
As you’ll have guessed by now, we weren’t able to meet Daisy that day on the Main Road as it was blocked out. Nor could we find the building where she has her room. We couldn’t even get to the general area. The bus man wouldn’t let us get on the bus. We did have some money, but he took one look at us, looking the way we do and on our own, and told us to get out.
We were brave enough to ask for some food with our money, and lucky enough to get it, with the help of a kind man. But it didn’t last long.
Since then we’ve been finding some to eat from street bins at night, where the dogs or the city kids let us.
Hena would rather do that than sit on the road and beg. The city kids don’t let us do that anyway. They have divided up their ‘patches’ and they don’t want no one else there. Least of all us. We look worse than anyone living they’ve seen before and they think we’ll take their trade away, on account people will pity us more.
To tell the truth we don’t care any more.
We wish Matt was with us. We remember our village and our families, and call to the Spirits. Leastwise I do.
Without really thinking we keep stumbling back to the street behind the Regent Hotel. Maybe we hope we might still meet Joti there; or at least Beauty and Brain, who might help us in finding him. Maybe because there are cartloads of lovely food in the hotel bins – only it is impossible to get at, what with the high walls and the guards.
We’re there again today.
It is our lucky day. We see Brain and Beauty, actually looking for us!
They say they’ll take us to a place where we just might meet Joti.
Even if we don’t, the person who lives there, a white man, will give us money and food if we do as he tells us.
They say he makes photos.
They say we might have to take our clothes off.
They say he make photos of naked skelly children to send back to white countries to help get food for our country.
He shows us a newspaper called The Guardian. It has the picture of an ugly naked skelly, worse than us, asking for money. We can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl, even though it’s naked. We are ashamed of him, or her. And of ourselves. But we go along.
We stand naked in this large magic room. There are lights all over the place. Lights, high and low; lights, soft and bright; lights, still and moving; lights, plain and coloured.
The carpets and walls move and change patterns and shapes and colours along with the moving lights.
In the centre of the room is a tall funny-shaped thing with three tin legs. There is a camera on it. All around there are sofas and chairs and tables and pictures the like of which we’ve never seen nor dreamed of.
My head reels as I look round me. Things become sharp and clear and then turn hazy again. The whole room moves one way, then suddenly swings in the opposite direction.
Brain is standing beside the diamond-shaped windows, staring at our naked bodies. His mouth is open, showing small sharp teeth. They look funny in his big blunt face.
Beauty has gone into the next room to talk to the white man about us and to arrange for some money and food for us.
It is the first time I see Hena naked. I try not to but I can’t help it as the room is full of mirrors. She looks funny. Most likely because everything is moving, bending and twisting her bones into peculiar shapes.
Brain moves closer to us. I can see more of his teeth now, but less of his eyes.
He comes closer still.
‘I’ll tell you a secret,’ he says.
It looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh.
I don’t blame him. We do look a bit screwy. Golam and I with our bald little balls and a little meat roll on top; Hena with her dry little nipples and a smooth little slit between the legs; all three with little cheekless assholes.
‘I bet you’re dying to know what the secret is,’ he says. Then his eyes shine. ‘Dying,’ he goes, clutching his stomach and bursting into a laugh, ‘dying, that’s a good one. If only Kagu was here to hear it. Dying…’ he’s killing himself with laughing. ‘You’re dying to… Good one, Tony, that is a good one for sure.’
He controls himself at last, to give his best slingshot yet, ‘I’ll tell you the secret you’re dyyiinng to know: it’s not your photos being took for The Guardian, it’s your bodies being took for fucking.’
He doubles up with laughter hiccups, pointing to our bodies.
‘Bodies,’ he says, ‘bodies… bodies…’ He’s practically rolling on the floor, slapping his thighs, saying, ‘Bodies… bodies… bodies…’
If he means to scare me, he does.
‘I never thought I’d start my fucking life like this,’ I think to myself.
I must’ve thought aloud for Brain replies, ‘More like end your fucking life like this, seeing as what’s in store for you.’ He can hardly speak for laughing, all the while slapping his thighs in quick short slaps. ‘I’m too good today, I am. If only Kagu was here. He won’t believe me now.’ He’s actually rolling on the floor.
I think I’m going to cry.
I don’t know much about fucking. Haven’t thought of it much in the past few days. I don’t think I can do much with my little bald dingus and my cheekless ass. Especially tired as I am with the long walk down here and the long climb up the stairs on top of it.
I can’t think what I’ll have to do.
I wonder if I’ll get my food if I can’t do it, whatever it is.
The more I think about it, the more I think I can’t, whatever it is.
By now I’m feeling so ill with worry I don’t think I want to eat anyway.
I just want to go home. Only I don’t know how.
I don’t think Golam and Hena know what’s going on. By the look on their faces I don’t think they bother.
They just stand there, hands by their sides, not caring to cover their bits and pieces – like I am – all quietly waiting to have their pictures taken or their bodies fucked or whatever.
Beauty comes out of the room. He has some notes in his hands.
He winks at Brain and waves the money about. He says, ‘Let’s get out of here. Quick.’
He hurries towards the door. The door which opened with a magic button and some pretty music when we came in.
‘Hey, wait a minute,’ said Brain, ‘I want to see what happens. I sure want to see Whitey’s face when he sees what we’ve got lined up for him.’
‘That’s exactly what I don’t want to see. Hurry. He’ll be coming any second.’
‘I won’t miss it for the world,’ goes Brain. ‘Boy, it’ll be some fun.’
‘OK stupid,’ says Beauty, ‘I’m off. I’ll give you your share this evening. If Jimmy the Boy don’t kill you before then.’ With that Beauty is out. We hear the music of the door.
A look of worry comes over Brain’s face. He’s about to follow Beauty, but it’s too late.
Jimmy the Boy comes out of the other room.
Jimmy the Boy is all big and white and naked. His dingus is all red and purple and hard; wobbling heavily from side to side and up and down as its owner walks in with a swagger.
He takes one look at us and his face turns like his dingus: all red and purple and hard.
He eyes Brain like he’s going to kill him, just as Beauty said he would.
Brain sees his changing face and makes a dash towards the door.
Jimmy the Boy then runs after him, balls clattering between tree-trunk thighs.
Just as he nabs Brain by the shirt collar I shout to Golam, ‘Look, he’s only got tw
o balls!’
Jimmy the Boy freezes, and turns to us with hurt eyes. ‘How many did you expect?’ he says.
I’m surprised he understands our language.
Brain takes the opportunity to run out, faster than a bean fart.
‘Matt was wrong after all,’ I say.
I look at Golam.
Golam looks as if he don’t agree.
Jimmy the boy looks confused.
I hear a light thud.
Hena is lying on the floor; blood red carpet spilling out of her bones.
Five
Hena the Whore
Before Jimmy the Boy can say or do anything, there is this little music again and a fat black man comes in.
‘You are all primed. Well, half primed,’ he says, looking Jimmy the Boy over. Beginning and ending with the middle.
Jimmy the Boy is not quite as hard between the legs as he was.
‘I came as soon as I got your call,’ the fat man carries on. ‘Now what have we…’ He stops quick when he sees us. Then speaks again, ‘Well, well, well, what do you know… I never thought you…’
I can’t see clear enough to say if he’s happy or angry or just about to laugh.
‘It’s all a mistake,’ says Jimmy the Boy, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, upsetting the balance of his balls. ‘They said young, but…’ He looks like a dog that’s bitten its tail. ‘It’s that bloody Kagu. Wait till I get my hands up his asshole.’
The fat man just smiles. He walks past me standing by the wall, hands over my little ones; past Golam standing in the middle of the room, half bent like a question mark, looking down at Hena; and stops on the other side.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve turned into a paedophiliac necrophile?’ he says.
‘Don’t tell me she’s dead!’ says Jimmy the Boy looking worried, dingus downcast.
The fat man kneels on the carpet and passes his hands over Hena’s body.
‘She’s warm,’ says the fat man, rubbing his hands against Hena’s little nipples.
Golam hides his face in his hands. His body shakes a little every little moment.
The fat man is passing his fat tongue over his fat lips. I don’t like his face when he does that.
‘You won’t… I mean, don’t…’ Jimmy the Boy moves up next to the fat man. ‘She’s just a child.’
My Friend Matt and Hena The Whore Page 17