Dew Angels

by Melanie Schwapp

  Eric looked at Necka as if trying to force him into silence with his gaze, the stiff smile still on his lips.

  “Tell him nuh, Eric. Or you don’t ‘memba?” Pedro nudged his head. “You don’t ‘memba tellin’ me that the youth Necka gettin’ too greedy, and him so damn stink you don’t want him round you no more?”

  “After all me do for you, Boss?” Necka repeated, rubbing his barren chin sadly.

  Eric sucked his teeth but did not lose his smirk. His words directed at Necka were made to sound casual, humorous, even. “After all me do for you, you goin’ believe this shit?”

  Necka sniffed and threw confused looks from Eric, to Winston, to Pedro. Then he scratched his head.

  Pedro nudged Eric’s head with the gun, causing the man to jerk ungracefully. “Anyway, Star,” he said, “Just so me can continue to clear the air without any misunderstandin’, beg you just pass your irons up here, and don’t try nothin’ stupid, or you goin’ leave your head behind right here pon this chair!”

  Winston bristled. “Is what do this bwoy, though? Is what him a chat ‘bout, leave head pon chair? You think is little bwoy business we dealin’ with, yout? Me is BIG police!” He slapped his chest. “When me done with you, you won’t even know where you is, not even your teeth them goin’ be able to find when me done with you!”

  Eric laughed that dry, humourless laugh, but he gave Winston a warning glance before obediently reaching into the section of the chair between the cushion and the side and removing a gun similar to the one resting atop his head.

  He looked at it. Nola saw his eyes move from the gun to Winston, as if relaying some silent message, and then he said,

  “All because of a little country pum-pum.”

  And then he fired.

  The sound rattled Nola’s teeth. She saw Winston fall flat on to his face.

  The landing shook with the weight of his body and the reverberating echo of the gunshot. Nola stared in horror at the face pressed into the floor, as if trying to sniff something on the tile. The arms were by the sides, one foot bent as if ready to run to catch up with its departed soul.

  Her knees went weak, and she closed her eyes to erase the image she’d just seen. Petra! Her eyes flew open again and flew to Hopey’s bedroom door. It remained shut. They must have thought it was she whom Eric had shot, and were too afraid to come out.

  “Rass! Rass!” Necka was screaming, pressing back against Eric’s bedroom door. “Why you just shot him so, Eric?”

  Eric chuckled, then lifted the smoking weapon and handed it to Pedro. “See, Star?” he said. “Now you don’t have nothin’ to worry ‘bout! You think me would’ a do that if him was any business interest to me?”

  Pedro calmly took the gun from Eric’s hand and shoved it into the waist of his own pants.

  Nola could not believe it. Not even a raised eyebrow did Pedro give at Winston’s prostrate body.

  He nodded at her. “Bring that one over here!” he commanded.

  It was then that Nola remembered the gun at her feet. She jumped back sharply, as if the thing had suddenly bitten her, and as she stared down at the silver barrel, she realized something. What about them—Petra and Val and Hopey? Couldn’t Eric or Pedro shoot them just as easily as Winston had been shot?

  She picked it up, her hand shaking as she gripped the handle. It felt rubbery within the sweat of her palm, and heavier than she imagined it would. The barrel tipped forward even as she used her other hand to support it. She turned the barrel towards Pedro.

  “Seein’ that …” She shook her head, attempting to shake some volume into her squeaky voice. “Seein’ that I don’t really care if Eric’s brains end up on the chair back, I think I’m goin’ to keep this ting with me till I get outta this place—leave you two alone to sort out your worries.”

  Pedro turned his head slightly to the side, but made no other move. Eric chuckled again, resting his chin on his hand as if watching a movie plot unfold.

  “Necka! where Petra?”

  Necka’s eyes flew first to Eric, then to Nola, then to the pool beneath Winston’s body.

  “Tell the gal where them is so me can deal with what me need to deal with, Star!” Pedro demanded.

  Necka pressed his palms up against his shorn chin as if trying to push his jaw closed, then jabbed a finger towards the stairs.

  “In the car trunk. She in the car trunk, and the other two tie up on the back seat.”

  Nola’s heart plummeted. They’d locked weak Petra in the car trunk! By now she could have suffocated!

  She took a step backwards, ready to turn and race down the stairs, but she froze when she heard another satisfied chuckle from Eric.

  “Tell me someting, Clumsy,” he cocked his head to the side, leaving Pedro’s gun to point vacantly ahead for a quick second. “When you was tellin’ Pedro all what you tell him, when you was usin’ your nasty country crotch to fill up him head with shit, you never think to remind him that this is my yard, and nobody can leave here till me tell my people that them can leave. Listen me good,” he wagged his finger at the gun above his head, “you see that shot that them just hear, them think that is you me just deal with, Clumsy. Them think that is you lyin’ dead on my floor! Them just waitin’ for me to tell them when to come and clean up your shit! So answer me this, Clumsy, exactly how the hell you plannin’ to get outta here?”

  Suddenly, Necka pulled himself up from the door and said, “Me will take you.” And as Eric squinted, he shrugged and muttered, “Nuh me is the messenger? Nuh me is the one who always do the dirty work?”

  Eric sniffed. He squinted at Necka for a quick, disbelieving second, then he said, “Remember that you have family, bwoy. Family that can get hurt bad.”

  Necka stopped and stared at his boss sitting on his throne. “Family, Boss?” he repeated, then shook his head. “And what would’a happen to my family on June 23rd? What them woulda have after me was dead and gone?”

  He jutted his chin at Nola, then at the stairs, indicating that he was ready to go.

  “Wait!” Nola shouted.

  She did not know if it was the silent defeat in Necka’s tone, but she suddenly realized that she could not leave just like that. Eric had damaged too many lives. She walked up to the chair with the gun shaking in her hands, and as his neck craned to look mockingly up at her, she stared into those eyes that had haunted her dreams for so long. It was all she could do not to shiver at the coldness in them.

  “You better run, Clumsy. Run far,” he whispered in a melodious tone.

  Nola felt her spine straighten, as if someone had come from behind and pressed a firm, steadying hand against her back. She laughed. “You don’t get it, eh Eric? You just don’t get it!” She leaned forward and imitated his whispering tone, “Me name is Nola Chambers, not Clumsy, and yes, me come from the country, and yes, me mash up because my papa used to beat me, but me is the one walkin’ outta this house now, Eric, while you can’t! You see, Eric, when you put someone on the outside of your house, them can watch tings when you don’t even know them lookin’ through your window. Me was watchin’ you Eric. Watchin’ you!” She gave a nonchalant little shrug. “Now you have to explain everyting to my friend Pedro here!”

  He hit her before she could move. His arm shot out before she even realized that he’d moved, and it was only the pain in her face that told her she’d been struck. The gun flew out of her hand and clattered across the floor, and Eric then tried to grab her neck. He tried to put his hands around it to choke her, but Pedro had already gripped his shiny hair and hauled him back into the seat.

  “Siddung! I don’t done with you yet!” Pedro shouted, pulling so roughly that Eric’s eyebrows were hauled upwards.

  Nola held her face as blood pooled in her mouth. Her lips were split and her nose vibrated with pain, but she laughed again, making the blood bubble through her fingers as she registered Pedro’s gun pasted against Eric’s temple.

  She was free! They were free! All of them—th
e ones from this house and the ones from Palm View Road—finally, free of Eric McKenzie!

  The smirk had fallen from Eric’s lips, and this time, when he squinted, Nola swore that his eyelids shook.

  “I’ll take that last lick, Eric!” she gurgled, “I’ll take it from you, cause a lick is nothin’ to me! But just ‘memba one ting—next time you come round to Palm View, make sure that you check in with me first before you go anywhere else on that street!”

  She felt her heart soar as his eyes dulled. He remembered! It was the line he’d first used on her when he’d dropped her home on that fateful day. Nola gave a triumphant grin with her swelling mouth, then she turned and stepped over Winston, her feet slipping a little in the pool around him, and followed Necka down the stairs.

  CHAPTER

  51

  It was not the same three men from the street who greeted them in the garage. Maybe it was the darkness, or the nature of events that had just taken place, but these two looked even more cruel than the first three from the street.

  One of them seemed quite fat, but as he turned to face them, Nola realized that it was hard muscle that padded his stocky frame. The other one was slim and well-dressed, like Eric, but had a scar that marred his face. The raised ridge of flesh ran from behind his left ear right up to the corner of his mouth.

  “Him never dust it?” He asked Necka.

  Nola’s heart beat wildly. She was afraid to look at the men lest they saw the sudden rush of fear that ruddied her face. The surge of strength that had stiffened her spine in front of Eric moments ago was suddenly sucked out of her. Now her body wobbled like jello. Her knees actually buckled with relief when she heard Necka say, “Nah! Him fire one shot when she try step out of line little while, but him say him don’t want no blood in him house. Him say I must take her round to Palisadoes and finish them off round there.”

  The big one chuckled. “Them fish and shark out there must be glad the day when Eric born!”

  Necka giggled back. “Unnu can gwaan to unnu bed. Eric say him just goin’ finish talk some business with Pedro and the one name Winston. Him say unnu can leave now.” He grabbed Nola’s arm and shoved her roughly towards the black Honda. “Me will take care of tings. This one nah give no more trouble! You see what Eric do to her face? Him fix her business good and proper!”

  The well-dressed one grabbed her braids and pulled her neck so far back that Nola felt as if it would crack right off into his hands. He stared down at her battered face.

  “Gal, that will teach you not to use big man name when you a thief into people yard!” he hissed.

  “Easy, Hitler.” Necka warned, “Eric say me musn’t kill her till she watch her friend dead first.” But he left her in Hitler’s hands and walked around to the driver’s door.

  After several seconds of staring down at her face, the man roughly shoved her head away, sending her stumbling against the car. Nola could only feel a surge of joy as Necka opened the car door and the light beamed on.

  Val and Hopey were huddled together in the back seat. She scrambled into the passenger seat beside Necka.

  Their faces were bloody. Val’s nose had been bandaged roughly with a piece of the sheet from Petra’s bed, and Hopey’s good eye now swelled to match the sealed lid of the other. Nola swallowed a sob.

  “Necka!” she whispered. “Necka, get Petra out the trunk before she stifle to death!”

  “Shut the car door, gal, before I change my mind and shot you right here!” he hissed back.

  “You don’t have no gun, Necka, and Pedro take your knife. Get Petra out the trunk now!”

  He turned to face her, “Look here, gal, stop talkin’ ‘bout tings you don’t know ‘bout! If me take her out now, then them two out there goin’ know that someting not right, and trust me, after them been waitin’ so long to see somebody dead tonight, them will deal with tings right here! So shut the rass door!”

  The big one opened the gate so that Necka could reverse through, giving a little salute as the car passed. Nola looked behind at Val and Hopey. Their heads rocked unsteadily as the car headed towards the moat. Two men, also different from the ones from the afternoon, appeared from the shadows and placed the grate on the gutter, then after the car had driven over they lifted it back off and disappeared into the night. Duppies. That’s what they looked like. Duppies, nodding respectfully at the black Honda as their shadowy forms crept over the wall.

  They drove down road after road, turning corners and driving through red stoplights and past sleeping street figures and hungry dogs till Nola felt the panic crescendo through her chest once again. Had she fallen for another trick? Was Necka really going to kill them? After all, she had cut off his beard, and Hopey had strangled him to within an inch of his life. And Petra was surely going to die in that trunk! Then, as she was about to grab the steering wheel from the fishy hands and swerve the car into the sidewalk, Necka pulled over and said, “Go get the gal!”

  Nola did not hesitate. In a flash she was at the back of the car. The hot stench of sweat and bile hit her like a physical force. She reached into the dark space and could only sob when she felt the breath lifting the chest. It was slow and laboured, but Petra was breathing! Nola lifted, unfolding the brittle arms and legs from the cramped space.

  It was too much, the relief of finding Petra alive and finally holding her in her arms, and before she could catch herself, Nola collapsed onto the damp sidewalk with the girl clutched against her chest.

  Petra’s eyes remained closed, still caked beneath their thick mucous, but her tongue flickered slightly over her lips when she felt the cool rush of air on her face.

  “Peta okay?”

  It was Hopey! Necka had freed her! She stood before Nola with her swollen eye and shattered lips, her doll clutched to her chest.

  Nola nodded as Hopey lowered herself to the sidewalk and gently touched Petra’s face. Another shuffle told them that someone else had joined them.

  This time it was Val, stumbling towards them and also collapsing onto the sidewalk, lying back on the dirty concrete with her bony legs splayed wide. She lay there, staring up at the purple sky without saying a word.

  Not one head turned to look at the car as it drove off.

  It was not until Petra moaned that Nola looked around to see where they were. That was when she saw the sign.

  RAPLEY CHURCH OF GOD

  COME PRAY FOR YOUR NEEDS –

  MONEY, HEALTH, SALVATION

  GOD ANSWERS PRAYERS!

  Sitting on that sidewalk with Petra in her arms, she began to laugh “Red cherries!” Nola gurgled at Val. “Red cherries, Val. We got some of them red cherries tonight!”

  Val’s distorted lips spread into a smile, and soon she was laughing too. “You know the only ting that went wrong tonight?” she chortled.

  “What’s that, Val?” Nola gulped, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “I left my rass cigarettes!”

  And they laughed all over again, while the night dew washed over their broken faces.

  CHAPTER

  52

  The newspaper reports said that the fire that razed the house of businessman Eric McKenzie seemed to have been caused by a cigarette which had fallen from the hands of the owner, when he fell asleep on the upper floor of his home. It also stated that two other bodies were found within the burnt shell. Details were given about the attempts of other residents of Blair Way to quell the flames after the dispatched fire truck had collapsed into a ditch at the top of the road and broken its two front axels. All in all, five of the closest houses were burnt to the ground.

  Nola stared at Aunt May’s mouth as it moved over the words of the newspaper, willing herself to accept that Eric was finally, permanently, gone. She stared at Val and saw that the bony snake of the woman’s throat worked up and down. She didn’t believe. Eric never smoked. He was just too vain to risk the sour smell on his breath.

  It was Pedro who’d done it. They knew. He’d burned it w
ith Eric and Winston inside, and the poor screaming woman from the bedroom.

  Aunt May finished reading the article and flung the paper into the garbage bin, slapping her hands together as if dusting off dirt.

  She’d lost so much weight. Her hips and arms sagged with the loss of substance, like a balloon that was slowly deflating. The weeks of Petra’s absence had been hard on her, and when Nola went missing she fell apart. Nathan said that she’d cried all night, and in between the tears, she’d knelt in the corner of the kitchen and prayed.

  It was Val who told Hopey about Eric’s death, beneath the ackee trees while the sun was setting. The woman gave no reaction. No tears. No sob. No sigh. No glee. Nothing. She just stared back at Val, blinking that fleshy lid and rocking her doll.

  Later reports stated that autopsies of the charred remains revealed that Eric McKenzie, Eloise Bernard, a hairdresser from Portmore, and Winston Holness, a policeman from the Area One Police Division, had actually died from gunshot wounds.

  Four other bodies had been found dumped over a wall at the top of Blair Way, the road on which the fire had occurred. The report identified them as Desmond Cower (alias Booley D.), Polack St. James (alias Hitler), Richard Gibson (alias Smiley) and Preston Miles (alias Powda). They were also reported to have suffered from gunshots, all administered from behind. The report stated that investigations were being conducted into the gruesome murders, and had already led to the apprehension of several other residents of Blair Way, many of whom were wanted for various crimes.

  Nothing was mentioned of Pedro or Necka.

  One and a half weeks after the fire, Val returned to the supermarket and resumed her job as manager, but it was not until she went to the tax office to file for the proper housing benefits for the employees that she discovered that the supermarket ownership was still listed under her name. Eric had not changed the name of ownership after her brother died. All those years, as Eric dilly-dallied around the taxman, he’d been forging Val’s signature, no doubt to protect himself if his tax tricks eventually caught up with him.