Drive By

by Jim Carrington

  The sobs recede a bit. I take some deep breaths, wipe my eyes on my sleeves and then after another minute or so, I sit up. This time I don’t look at the picture, but I read what’s written there:

  A thirty-two-year-old man was killed when his Ford Fiesta collided with a van in rush-hour traffic on Plough Lane on Tuesday morning. The crash occurred at the junction with Durnsford Road at about 8.10 a.m. It is believed that the motorist, from Tooting, drove through a red light before being hit by the van. It is also believed that the driver may not have been wearing a seatbelt at the time of the collision.

  A police spokesman said: ‘The driver of the Ford Fiesta was treated by paramedics at the scene, but sadly died as a result of his injuries on his way to hospital.’

  The junction was closed for five and a half hours while police launched an initial investigation into the cause of the crash.

  Police would like to hear from anyone who witnessed the collision or was in the area at the time and may have seen the Fiesta or the van. Anyone who can help should contact Sergeant Alan Ryder at Wimbledon Police Station.

  When I’ve finished reading, I stare at the screen. I don’t know what to think. The story makes me feel empty. It makes me feel sad that they didn’t even mention Dad’s name, that it was a tiny news story one day and then fish-and-chip paper the next. I mean, it’s not like I was expecting to read some long, involved story about him, about all his achievements and how he’ll be sadly missed, but the whole story feels so matter of fact.

  And there are things in the story that no one has ever mentioned to me. Like the red light. Nobody ever mentioned he jumped the lights. Or that he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.

  I sit and stare at the screen for ages in disbelief. I’m not sure whether I feel better or worse or what.

  Eventually I snap out of it though and search for the following week’s newspaper. Another list of stories appears on the screen. I scroll through them, scanning them for a mention of Dad or the van or a dead motorist or anything. But there’s nothing. So I try the next week. And then the one after that. Nothing.

  That’s it. That’s all Dad’s life was worth in the paper. One story. A hundred or so words and a picture. Not even a mention of his name.

  I switch my computer off and stare into space. I wonder why Dad would have skipped a red light. Why wasn’t he wearing a seatbelt?

  And now, in my mind, I have an image of a grey road, closed off, blue lights flashing, and my dad being cut from a car. Dying. Eyes glazing over. Every time I think of it, all I want to do is cry.

  Johnny

  It feels wrong, the four of us being here, not more than a couple of metres from where the Poisoned Dwarf had the heart attack that we caused. A shiver runs down my spine.

  I wonder whether she can see me right now, whether her spirit’s hovering around close by. I can imagine what’s going through her mind if she is here, watching me hang around the place where it happened as though I don’t have a care in the world, about to go and buy enough booze to get utterly wasted. She’d probably think I don’t have even a trace of guilt, that I have no conscience whatsoever. She couldn’t be more wrong. I get an urge to shout out to her spirit to let her know I’m sorry, that I didn’t mean to do it, that it was just a stupid joke. A joke that went totally, disastrously wrong. But I don’t. I just turn on my heels and look at the spot where her car was parked.

  ‘Oi, J! Cough up.’

  I turn. ‘What?’

  Drac looks at me, raises an eyebrow. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ he says. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  I sigh. ‘Yeah,’ I say, looking back at the parking space. ‘I wonder why that is, Drac.’

  ‘Jeez,’ Jake says. ‘You’re not still on about that, are you?’

  I don’t answer. I just look at him, my eyebrows raised, thinking that he should be on about this as well, the idiot, because we gave someone a heart attack.

  ‘You gotta let it go,’ Jake says. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it, man. It was an accident, that’s all. Get over it.’

  I look at Badger. He raises his eyebrows – in solidarity, I think. At least he feels bad for what happened too.

  ‘Look, are we gonna get wasted or what?’ Drac says.

  Everyone nods.

  ‘Right, cough up, then. Fiver each.’

  I reach in my pockets and take out my wallet, get five pound coins and give them to Drac.

  He takes them and smiles. ‘I’m getting cider, OK?’

  We all nod.

  Drac goes into the shop. There was no question of anyone else going in, seeing as he looks way older than the rest of us. Drac’s the tallest and he’s the only one that needs to shave more than once a week.

  I nervously pace around on the pavement. I can feel someone watching me. The Poisoned Dwarf’s spirit is here somewhere, I’m sure of it.

  I look up at the building site across the road and wonder again whether anyone on site would have seen what happened. There’s an enormous crane, for God’s sake. They must be able to see everything that happens from up there.

  I sense someone next to me. I look round. It’s Badger, hands in pockets. He looks over at the building site too.

  ‘You OK?’ he says quietly.

  I shake my head. ‘Not really,’ I say. ‘I can’t get it out of my head, not like Jake and Drac seem to have done.’

  Badger kicks his heels on the pavement. ‘Me neither.’

  I turn and see Drac coming out of the shop. He swings the blue plastic bag in his hand as he walks over to us. I nudge Badger.

  ‘I need to forget everything for a bit,’ I say to him. ‘I think I’m gonna get very, very drunk indeed.’

  We head to the park. The warden has already locked up so we climb the fence and head across the grass to the crazy golf course. When we’re all sitting around on the walls of the sixteenth hole, Drac reaches into the carrier bag and takes out a big bottle of cider.

  He unscrews the lid and takes a swig and then passes it round. One by one we take it and drink. When it gets to me I gulp it down. Almost straight away I get a warm feeling in my guts. I can feel the kick of the alcohol. The edges of the world feel less sharp, fuzzier.

  We sit there, not really talking about much. Drac and Jake are laughing and joking about something, but I don’t particularly want to hear it at the moment. So I drink instead. Before I know it, the first bottle is empty and I can feel a warm glow inside me. My cheeks feel rosy. Everything feels a bit better. Drac raises his eyebrows at me in surprise. He reaches into the plastic bag and grabs another bottle.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out. It’s a text from Summer.

  Hey, Johnny. I’m feeling sad. U want 2 meet up? S x

  I reply to her. Sorry, can’t right now — out with friends. 2moro? I hesitate for ages, wondering whether it’s a bit soft to put an ‘x’ at the end of the text or not. In the end the cider decides for me and I put one on and send it.

  ‘Who you texting?’ Drac says.

  I shrug. I take a swig of cider. ‘No one.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ He taps his nose and winks. ‘I know what you mean. Would it be a female no one by any chance?’

  I put my phone back in my pocket. I think for a second about whether I should tell him or not, but my head is already fuzzy. Stuff it. I nod my head.

  ‘Wahey!’ Drac says, throwing his hands up in the air. He nudges Jake in the ribs, taking him by surprise and nearly knocking him off the wall. ‘You hear that? Johnny’s only gone and got himself a girlfriend!’

  I sigh inwardly. I take another swig of cider. Badger catches my eye. He rolls his eyes and smiles.

  ‘Is she fit, then?’ Drac says.

  How do I even answer a question like that? Say yes, and I’ll get a load of hassle, get asked to describe her every physical detail – details that I don’t even know yet. Say no, and I’ll never hear the end of it. So I just nod my head and take another swig.

  ‘Do we know h
er?’ Jake asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. ‘Doubt it.’

  ‘So where did you meet her?’

  I try and think of an answer. Where did I meet her? ‘On the bus.’

  Jake smiles. ‘When?’

  ‘Ages ago. A month, maybe. You and Drac were acting like a pair of chimpanzees, throwing paper balls at her.’

  Jake grins. ‘Oh. I remember that. I remember her. She was all right, wasn’t she? Grumpy, but fit.’

  I drink some more and stare into space.

  ‘But you didn’t even talk to her or anything,’ Drac says. ‘Did you pull her using telepathy?’

  Jake and Drac laugh.

  I turn and look at him, raise one eyebrow, like I think he’s being thick. ‘I didn’t speak to her on the bus, Drac, no.’

  ‘So when?’

  I stand up from the wall and throw my arms up in mock exasperation. ‘Christ. What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? What else do you wanna know?’

  Drac laughs. Then it’s quiet for a second, before he says, ‘What’s the Spanish Inquisition?’

  I shake my head. I pace around. I feel a bit unsteady. The cider is definitely taking effect. ‘It’s a saying,’ I say. ‘It’s what people say when they’re bored of some idiot asking them a million questions that are none of their business.’

  Drac smiles. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘You should have just told me to shut my face in that case.’

  I turn and give him a sarcastic smile. ‘Shut your face!’

  Drac laughs. He shuts up, but not for long. ‘Have you . . . you know . . . yet?’

  I laugh. You have to admire how thick his skin is even if he is an annoying idiot. ‘Like I’d tell you!’

  Jake smirks. ‘So you have?’

  I shake my head. ‘No,’ I say. ‘And even if I had, it would be none of your business.’

  They let the subject drop. I take a swig of cider and pass it on to Drac.

  Drac looks at the bottle and then at me. He smiles. ‘Slow down, J. You’re gonna be wasted.’

  I nod. ‘That’s the idea.’

  Drac smiles. He holds up the bottle. ‘Cheers, J,’ he says. ‘To your new girlfriend!’

  Summer

  Mum’s on the sofa, holding a glass of wine, as I walk into the lounge. The TV’s on, but she isn’t really watching it. She looks up and smiles as I walk over to the sofa.

  ‘You OK, Summer?’

  I don’t answer, I just shrug.

  Mum leans forward and puts her glass of wine down on the coffee table. She turns so she’s looking right at me. ‘You’re not OK, are you?’

  I don’t answer or even look at her.

  She puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I feel strange,’ I say.

  Mum nods. ‘Strange in what way?’

  ‘I don’t know. About Dad mainly.’

  Mum sighs. She picks up the remote and switches the TV off. She takes her wine from the table, takes a sip and puts it down again. ‘Go on . . .’

  ‘I just feel confused. I don’t know what to think.’

  Mum looks at me with a sympathetic expression on her face – though I can sense a bit of ‘I told you so’ on it as well. ‘What’s got you thinking about this? This is because of the tapes, isn’t it?’

  I shrug. ‘Partly, yeah.’

  ‘I knew it wasn’t a good idea to listen to the tape,’ she says, almost like she’s saying it to herself rather than me. ‘Your grandad warned us. They’ve stirred up things that were probably best left alone.’

  Neither of us says anything for a while. Mum takes a sip of wine.

  ‘Mum, was Dad wearing a seatbelt when he had the car crash?’

  Mum looks at me, shocked. She doesn’t say anything right away. Her face searches mine. ‘Summer . . . What? Where did you find that out?’

  ‘I looked at the online archive of the local newspaper from the day Dad died.’

  ‘Summer, I don’t think –’

  ‘Was he wearing one?’

  Mum shakes her head and then looks away from me.

  ‘Why not?’

  Mum breathes in and out really deeply and slowly. ‘I don’t know, Summer. Really, I don’t.’

  And I feel bad. I’ve upset her.

  She takes a gulp of wine.

  ‘Did he jump a red light at the traffic lights as well?’

  ‘Yes,’ she says really matter-of-factly. Abruptly.

  It’s obvious I’ve hit a raw nerve, that she doesn’t want to talk about this. I feel awful, but I have to know. I also have to know why nobody ever told me.

  ‘How come I didn’t ever get told this? Why did I have to find this out for myself?’

  Mum takes a while to answer. She’s searching for an excuse. ‘I don’t really know,’ she says.

  ‘Don’t you think I have a right to know? He was my dad . . .’

  Mum doesn’t look at me. She stares down at the coffee table. ‘How would telling you any of this have helped, Summer?’

  I shrug. ‘I don’t know,’ I say, ‘but what harm could it have done?’

  Mum sighs. ‘Summer, there are some things best left –’

  ‘Why?’

  Mum bites her lip. For a second I think she’s gonna cry, but then she turns and looks at me. ‘None of this will ever bring him back, you know.’

  ‘I know. But I want to know the truth.’

  Mum looks away from me, across the room.

  I get the feeling I’m still being fobbed off. ‘Is there anything else I should know about Dad’s death?’

  Mum shakes her head. ‘No.’

  The room’s quiet for a while. Mum picks her wine up and drains the glass.

  ‘Can I listen to the other spiritualist tape, please?’

  Mum looks back at me. She shakes her head. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. It won’t help. It won’t bring him back. All it’ll do is upset you.’

  ‘What if we listen to it together?’

  Mum shakes her head again. ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? Have you listened to it?’

  Mum shakes her head. ‘No, I haven’t. I’m not going to and neither are you.’

  I stand up. ‘Why?’ I say. I can hear anger in my voice.

  ‘Calm down, Summer,’ Mum says.

  ‘No.’

  Mum reaches her hand out towards mine and tries to hold it. I pull my hand away.

  ‘Summer, you need to stop thinking about all these things. It won’t do anyone any good.’

  ‘What would you know?’ I mutter. I turn and start walking towards my room.

  ‘Summer, please . . .’ I hear Mum say.

  I ignore her. I go into my room and slam the door behind me.

  Johnny

  It’s late. I’d tell you what time it is, only, whenever I try and look at my watch, my eyes won’t focus properly. I try to stand up. My legs almost buckle underneath me. Drac laughs at me. I try again and concentrate really hard on standing up straight.

  ‘J, you’re wrecked,’ Jake says.

  I turn in his direction. ‘Good!’ I laugh. ‘That’s exactly how I want to be.’

  Badger shakes his head disapprovingly, like he’s my dad telling me off. ‘How much have you drunk?’

  I shrug and it feels weird, like I’m not properly in control of my body. ‘Don’t know,’ I say. ‘Don’t care either. I want more. Have we got any more booze?’

  Drac shakes his head. He holds up the empty bottles and then lets them fall to the ground. ‘All gone!’

  I feel a bit of dribble trickle out of my mouth and down my chin. I laugh. I’m completely wasted. If my parents saw me like this, I’d be in a whole heap of trouble. But so what? For the first time in weeks I feel normal. I haven’t got any worries.

  ‘Let’s go and get some more drink,’ I say.

  Jake laughs. ‘It’s half eleven,’ he says. ‘The shops are shut.’

  ‘Is it?’ I say. I hold up my wrist to look at my watch. It takes a while to stop the watch-
face swimming in front of my eyes and even then I can’t work out what time it is. I give up and look at the others.

  ‘I’m going home,’ Badger says. He walks over to me. ‘You gonna be OK getting back?’

  I nod my head and laugh for God knows what reason.

  ‘You sure?’ Drac says. ‘Can you even remember where you live?’

  I nod my head and again I can feel that my movements are exaggerated. ‘24 Sidmouth Avenue, Raynes Park, London, SW20 0HY.’

  I watch as Drac shakes his head slowly and rolls his eyes. I can’t help but laugh.

  The others are silent for a second. They stare at me like they’ve never seen a drunk person before, like they’re not drunk themselves at this very moment.

  ‘What you looking at?’

  No one answers me. I turn away from them and stare into the darkness for a while. I feel a hand on my arm.

  ‘Right,’ Jake says. ‘Let’s get you home.’ And he starts leading me towards the fence.

  ‘How much did you drink?’ Jake asks me when we’re out of the park, walking along the road, and Badger and Drac have gone their own ways.

  I shrug. ‘Who cares? Loads.’

  ‘J, I’ve never seen you like this before. You’re scaring me, man.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Jake stops. He looks straight at me. ‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘You just don’t usually get wasted like this. You usually know when to stop. You’re being a bit of an idiot, mate.’

  ‘I can do what I want,’ I say, and I start walking along the road without him.

  I hear Jake mutter something under his breath, but I can’t make out what it is so I let it go. He catches me up and we walk along in silence for ages, turn left on to the main road.

  ‘You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow,’ Jake says as we walk towards the parade of shops and the turning to our houses.

  I start thinking of a reply, but by the time it gets anywhere near coming out of my mouth, the words have evaporated from my brain and I’m just left open-mouthed. Dumb. Stupid. Drunk as a skunk.

  A police car cruises along the road towards us. It slows down as it gets close. Me and Jake stare at the police inside and they stare back at us. Everything I’ve forgotten for the last few hours – the Poisoned Dwarf, Mikey winding me up about the police, the ghost – comes flooding back. I wonder if they’re on the lookout for us, whether they’re gonna arrest us. But then they look away from us and the siren starts wailing. The car turns in the road and roars off in the direction it’s just come from. I stand where I am for a second or two, watching as the flashing blue lights disappear up the road.