Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives)

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Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives) Page 15

by Hansen, Marita A.


  “Tama!” Mrs. Connor frowned at him. “Don’t drink outta the bottle. Use the glass.”

  “Sorry.” He poured himself a drink.

  Naf sat down next to Tama. “You wanna go somewhere? I don’t start work ‘til six.”

  Yeah, he did. He wanted to check up on his mother, but knew she’d still be at work. Tama smiled. Maybe he could finally visit Jess today.

  “Yep. Gimme your phonebook,” he said.

  Naf got up and opened the cupboard behind Tama. The phonebook landed on the table with a thud. Tama flicked through to find Jess’s address. His finger ran down the Daniels in the book. Shit, there were loads of the motherfuckers.

  Mrs. Connor turned off the stove and shouted, “Corey, pancakes!” She placed another plate on the table. “Corey, food’s ready!” When there was no reply, she grumbled and left the kitchen.

  Tama’s finger stopped halfway down the page. “I wanna go to Twenty-Three D Waiha Road.” He closed the book, grabbed another pancake and stuffed it into his mouth.

  “What’s there?” Naf asked.

  “Jess,” Tama answered.

  A spray of juice shot out of Naf’s mouth.

  Tama wiped his arms. “You dirty bastard! Whatcha do that for?”

  Naf wiped his mouth. “You shouldn’t go there, man. You’re just askin’ for trouble if Nike catches you.”

  “Don’t care,” Tama said, grabbing another pancake. High or not he would feel no guilt whatsoever in stabbing Nike. The bastard had done enough to him; it would be more than justified. Shit, it would be fucking righteous. He only wished he’d finished the job years ago when he’d managed to get Nike in the arm.

  “C’mon, man. Nike’s dangerous, just go down south. He won’t find ja there.”

  “Fuck that; I ain’t runnin’ from that cunt. Anyway, it’s too cold down south.”

  “Even if he ain’t there, what do ya think’s gonna happen with Jess? She’ll give ya nuthin’. She’s married.”

  “Leila’s married, and I still fucked her.”

  Naf rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if I ever get a girlfriend, you ain’t fuckin’ goin’ near her.”

  Tama grinned. “If that ever happens she’ll be so fugly I won’t wanna touch her.”

  Naf punched Tama’s arm. “Wanker.”

  Tama laughed. “No, that’s your job, chick repellent.”

  Naf’s face went serious. “C’mon, Tama. Don’t bother with her; just go to that chick’s place you saw at the party.”

  “Nope, I want Jess.”

  Mrs. Connor walked back into the room, followed by Corey. “Who’s Jess?” she asked.

  Tama swiped a pancake off his mate’s plate. “She’s my new girlfriend.”

  30

  Mikey

  Mikey jammed his phone into his pocket and leaned back into his mother’s couch. Why was Tama ignoring his messages? All of them were marked urgent, the last one even mentioning Tama’s mother. God, why the hell did his Aunty Janice have to go and kill herself? Yeah, he understood the urge, but she had people who loved her.

  Shit, he was dreading telling his cuz about what had happened. Tama wasn’t going to cry or scream or punch a hole in the wall, he was going to go fucking nuts and somebody was bound to get hurt. Mikey had seen it eight years ago when Tama had been told about his father’s death. Tama had flown into a rage and attacked a neighbour with a bat. The man had gotten hurt, but eventually overpowered Tama because he’d been so small. Now things were different. Tama was big and had a knife.

  Mikey looked across the lounge at his mother then quickly dropped his gaze, totally ashamed of his thoughts. He wished she had slit her wrists instead of his Aunty Janice. If that had happened he’d be living at Tama’s and a whole lot happier. Man, he was a sick bastard for thinking that. Who wanted their own mother dead? Him.

  Caitlin sniffled next to him. She wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve as she stared at Sponge Bob on TV.

  “Caitlin, use your hankie,” his mother said, her voice thick with disapproval.

  A sob escaped Caitlin’s mouth. “I wanna g-g-go home.”

  His mother sighed, her voice softening. “This is your home now.”

  Caitlin shook her head, her sobs picking up in volume. Mikey put an arm around her shoulders. She wiped her nose on her arm again.

  His mother looked frustrated. “Use a hankie, Caitlin.”

  Mikey’s face flushed. For fuck’s sake, the kid had just lost her mum and all the woman cared about was that she used a bloody hankie? He glared at his mother. She looked back down at her magazine, seemingly unaware of his mood.

  “Has Tama answered you yet?” she asked, still reading her mag.

  “No.”

  “You sure you’ve got the right number?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then call one of his friends and see if he’s with them.”

  “I’ve done that. I left messages on all their phones tellin’ them to get Tama to call me back ASAP.”

  His mother let out another sigh as she flicked over the page. “He’s probably ignoring you because he’s mad at me.”

  “What’s he mad at you for?”

  “He visited after attacking that girl—”

  “He never told me that.”

  She looked up. “You saw him?”

  “Yeah, he turned up at Sledge’s around two on Sunday morning.”

  “He didn’t tell you what happened?”

  “Before he crashed, he mumbled something about Nike, and said you were a mean...” He stopped as her eyes narrowed. Yeah, she was a mean bitch alright. Mikey breathed out. “What did you do?”

  “I called the police on him.”

  “You what!”

  No wonder Tama was ignoring him. He couldn’t believe Tama hadn’t said anything about it. His cuz was obviously upset, but he’d just assumed it was to do with Maia.

  He removed his arm from around Caitlin. “How could you do that to him?”

  His mother’s eyes bulged, no doubt surprised at his tone. “He stabbed a girl,” she snapped.

  Mikey dropped his gaze. “He wuz wrong, but you still shouldn’t have dobbed him in. He’s family.”

  “Tama’s bad news. Always has been. I’m surprised he hasn’t already been locked away.”

  Caitlin started sobbing. “T-Tama not bad. P-P-Pig’s bad.”

  Mikey pulled Caitlin closer. He knew his mother was insensitive, but shit ... she didn’t have to slag off Tama in front of Caitlin.

  “He’s not bad,” he whispered to her.

  His mother spoke over him. “The policemen aren’t bad, Caitlin. They’re there to protect us.”

  Caitlin shook her head. “Bad, bad pigs.”

  “For goodness sakes, child, stop calling them that. You sound just like your brother.”

  Mikey bit down on his lip. He had to get out of this place. It was driving him nuts. Plus, it wasn’t just about him anymore, he needed to find Tama and tell him about his mother. No matter how much trouble Tama was in, Mikey knew he’d want to be at the funeral.

  “I’ll go to Naf’s house and see whether he can help me find Tama.” He kissed Caitlin’s head, and got up.

  “No. The police will find him soon enough.” His mother pushed off the couch, waddled over, and grabbed his arm.

  “Lemme go!”

  “No, I don’t want you going near that boy again,” she said, gripping tighter.

  He tried to yank his arm free. He hated it when she touched him, it made his skin crawl.

  Her fingernails dug in.

  He yelped. “Let go, bitch!”

  Her eyes widened. “What did you just call me?”

  Mikey sucked in a breath. Before he could say sorry, she slapped him hard across the face.

  “Apologise now or so help me God I’ll beat you black and blue”

  With his free hand, he wiped his nose. He looked at the blood on his fingers. Even though she’d done a helluva lot worse than this, he felt something inside s
nap.

  “I hate you,” he ground out.

  Hurt flickered across her face as she let go of his arm. “How could you say that?”

  “Easy. I – hate – you,” he enunciated each word, not caring anymore whether he got a belting or not. He was sick of her. The bullying, the put downs, her turning on Tama, and every other horrible thing she’d ever done to him. He’d had enough.

  “You’re nuthin’ but a mean, disgustin’ bitch,” he spat.

  A punch connected with his face, making him stagger back.

  “Apologise!”

  He held a hand over his throbbing cheek and went for the door.

  She grabbed his arm and swung him around. “You’re not leaving!”

  He pulled free and lunged for the door again.

  Her face contorted as she shoved him into the wall. Mikey recognised the expression. It was the same one that said he was going to get a full on beating, and more sick days off school. She raised a fist.

  “Don’t touch me!” He pushed her away, fighting back for once.

  “You’re staying here!” She grabbed both his arms, pinning him to the wall.

  Caitlin started wailing.

  Mikey didn’t want to leave Caitlin, but he couldn’t stay. His chest filled with panic as he struggled with his mother. She pressed her weight into him.

  “Leave me alone!” He rammed his body into her as hard as he could.

  She fell back, hitting the floor with a thud.

  He yanked open the door and jumped down the steps, the sound of Caitlin’s cries and the Sponge Bob theme song assaulting his ears.

  “Michael!” his mother screamed.

  Tears streamed down his face as he sprinted down the path and through the gate. The swelling in his cheeks and the fight didn’t make him cry like a girl. Instead, the knowledge that his mother would soon be Caitlin’s legal guardian was what shattered him.

  31

  Tama

  “Stay out front and beep if Nike shows,” Tama said.

  Naf cut the engine. “Okay. Not like ya gonna be long anyway.”

  Tama glared through the window at Naf. “You bastard, you think she’s gonna fuckin’ turn me down, don’t cha?”

  Naf leaned back in his seat with a smirk on his face. “Yup.”

  Tama gave him the finger. Bastard! He didn’t need Naf’s bloody opinion, he was already nervous as hell. The last time he’d seen Jess was in the supermarket last week. Like a love struck git, he’d followed her around without her knowing. In the end he’d been so pissed with himself for not approaching her that he’d left without even saying hello. Fuck, he had no problems with chatting up other chicks, it was easy as shit, but Jess was different. He wanted to keep her as a girlfriend, not add her to the long list of pussies he’d done.

  He jumped up the porch steps and stopped in front of the ranch-slider. His hand hovered for a moment. Would she even let him inside? And was she still pissed off with him for feeling her up at school? Nah, it had been three years since he’d last touched her, and she was way too nice to hold a grudge against him. Anyway, it was fucking Nike’s fault for ruining things, stealing Jess out from under him. If pretty boy hadn’t gone after her, she would have eventually come round. Chicks loved him; some just needed a little more convincing than others.

  He knocked on the glass door. The curtains were drawn and he could hear no movement inside. It would just be his luck that she wasn’t home. He banged louder. When there was still no answer he scanned the surrounding houses and street. A TV blasted in a neighbouring flat, and a dog barked on the opposite side of the fence. Except for Naf’s car, the street looked deserted. Satisfied that all was clear, Tama pulled out his Swiss knife and unlocked the door.

  He stepped inside. “Jess?”

  The tiny lounge and dining-room was crammed with cheap crap, along with a stereo system in danger of collapsing some nasty looking shelving.

  Tama sniffed. “What a shithole.” If Jess had gone with him, he would have gotten her much better digs than this dump. Yeah, he didn’t work, but he was still good at acquiring stuff for free, plus he received the unemployment benefit fortnightly.

  He went to the stereo and scanned the CDs. “Fuckin’ A,” he said, pulling out The Black Seeds’ Into the Dojo album. “Who knew the shithead had taste.” He flicked through the rest, and pulled out another one. He loved this group, with their cool new gen reggae style.

  Curious at what food they had, he went into the kitchen and checked the fridge. It was well stocked with milk, bread, spreads, and ham. “Yum.” He grabbed some slices of ham, jammed them into his mouth, then headed through the passage and into the bedroom.

  Man, he wished Jess was here, just being in her room got him all excited. He stared at the bed, picturing her lying on the mattress in a nice bra and knickers set. Something flimsy enough to tear off. Maybe he could swipe some of her lingerie?

  He pulled open the top drawer of the cabinet. It got stuck partway. He yanked it harder and looked inside. Male underwear. He pushed it shut, then opened the top drawer in the other cabinet. Lingerie greeted his happy gaze.

  A bra and knickers set, and a black G-string caught his eyes. He sniffed them. Shit, he was definitely keeping these. He stuffed them into his jacket pockets then sat down on the bed.

  He checked his watch, wondering when Jess would be home. He pulled out the pair of knickers and imagined her in them. Fuck, he was horny as hell holding her underwear and sitting on her bed. Putting them aside, he took off his jacket and the rest of his clothes then lay down.

  Placing her knickers on his stomach, he started the five knuckle shuffle. An image of Jess popped into his head. She was bigger than she’d been at school, but fuck, she still looked fine. If anything he liked her better this way, her huge tits more than making up for her fat arse. Nah, it was plump and something to slap hard against when he took her from behind. His cock surged. He pumped faster as he imagined being buried deep inside of her. “Jess,” he shouted. Oh fuck, he’d done it now. The orgasm came fast, white jets spurting over her knickers and his chest.

  He waited for the last pump then dropped his hand. He lay still for a moment. Would he be able to control himself this time? He didn’t want to force himself onto her again. But what if Jess rejected him? He couldn’t handle that. He wanted her so bad, ached to feel the touch of her skin. He wiped himself with her knickers and headed for the bathroom. He dropped the knickers in the wash basket then stepped into the pathetic excuse for a bath and shower. Nike was obviously clean, he thought. Otherwise he’d be in much better digs than this dive.

  After a quick shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened up the cupboard above the sink. He took a razor and shaving cream, then removed the stubble on his head and face.

  A knock at the front door made him jump. Couldn’t be Jess or Nike, he thought. They would just come in, plus Naf didn’t beep. He grabbed his knife and went into the lounge.

  They knocked again. Tama peered through the break in the curtain. He let out a loud grunt. “Bloody Naf.” He opened the door. “Go back to the car. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

  Naf’s eyes widened as he looked down at Tama’s towel. “Fuck ... you shagged her,” he spluttered.

  Tama grinned. “Yeah, and she fuckin’ enjoyed it too.”

  “Shit, Tama. Sorry for doubtin’ ya.” Naf rubbed his chin, his eyes still fixed on the towel. “Man, you’re a lucky bastard.”

  “Stop starin’ at my cock, ya perv. Sheesh ... ya worse than effin’ Corey. I swear he’s a fag. Maybe that long-haired poof is the mystery girlfriend he keeps talkin’ ‘bout.”

  “I wuz not! And Corey’s not gay.” Naf shoved Tama in the chest.

  Sniggering, Tama took a step back. Naf was so easy to rile. “Just go back to the car and wait for me. I ain’t finished yet.”

  “But, I wanna head back home before work.”

  “What’s the time?”

  “Almost four.”

&
nbsp; Tama wanted more than an hour with Jess. Damn it, he’d just have to come back tomorrow. “Okay, just gimme ten more minutes for another root then I’ll be out,” he said with a grin.

  Shaking his head, Naf walked off.

  Tama let out a bark of laughter and closed the door. It was going to be fun stringing Naf along. The disbelieving shit deserved it. Bloody questioning his ability to get Jess. Cunt.

  He got dressed, then headed into the kitchen and helped himself to some juice. With a loud belch, he closed the fridge door, picked up the two CDs off the table, and sat down on the couch. He pulled out the cover of the first disk, hoping for song lyrics. Black ink was scrawled under an image of a giraffe: To Nike from Dad and Mum, Happy 14th.

  Tama stared at the word Dad. God, he missed his. Although his father had worked a hell of a lot he’d always made time, taking him to softball games, the beach and the movies. His dad called it “Man time,” and said he needed it or he’d grow into a pussy if it was left up to his mother.

  A smile played across Tama’s lips at the memory of his father stepping in as his under ten’s softball coach. His dad had blown up at the umpire for running him out at a local tournament. When the umpire refused to change the ruling, his dad had given the old dude a wedgy. Tama laughed at the memory. His dad always did the weirdest things. His smile faded. He missed softball, but there was no way he’d ever play it again. It reminded him too much of what he’d lost.

  A car horn tooted. “Impatient prick,” he muttered. He slipped the cover back into the CD, then closed it and picked up the other album.

  Footsteps hit the front porch. Tama’s eyes snapped up. Shit, he’d left the bloody door unlocked. Dropping the CDs, he pulled out his knife and jumped up as the ranch-slider slid open.

  32

  Leila

  Nike looked young, not as tall as he was now, and with his hair spiked up in the style he’d worn when he was fourteen. Leila brushed her fingertips down his face and kissed his lips. She missed this ... missed everything about being with him.

 

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