Tape

by Camden,Steven

  — It was hard.

  Ameliah starts looking through the CDs in the dark bag. She hears Nan humming louder in the kitchen as she pulls out a brown notebook.

  — You know what teenagers are like, right? I mean you are one.

  Joe speaks to her back as she opens the notebook. A photograph slides out on to her knees, the gloss image catching the light.

  — By the time we went to college we were friends.

  Ameliah doesn’t hear him. Her eyes are fixed on the faces in the photograph. Mom is younger, wearing tight jeans and a dark vest top as she smiles and reaches out her arms, across what looks like a dance floor, to Joe. He’s younger too, the edges of his scruffy hair stuck to the side of his face with sweat, his eyes fixed on her.

  Ameliah feels her skin go cold.

  — Found anything? Come on, this party’s starting to fade.

  She feels his eyes on her back as she turns over the photograph and reads the words:

  Nath,

  Me and you, going for it! Leeds 99

  love Eve x

  She can feel her ribs under her skin as she turns round.

  She holds up the photo, telling herself not to blink. Joe squints at her.

  — What is it?

  — Nath, me and you, going for it! Leeds 99, love Eve.

  His face drops as she speaks. Ameliah stands up, her eyes not leaving him as she walks towards the sofa.

  — That’s an old photo.

  He sits forward, perching on the edge of the sofa.

  — From university, he continues, you weren’t supposed to—

  — You’re Nathan?

  Ameliah stares at him.

  — Let me explain.

  — You’re Nathan?!

  — Please let me—

  — What are you doing with my mom?

  — Ameliah.

  — Were you having an affair?

  — What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Come and sit down, let me explain, please.

  He stands up and Ameliah steps back.

  — Where was my dad? Did he know? Your own stepbrother?

  Joe steps towards her.

  — Ameliah, please, it’s complicated. Your dad wasn’t even around then.

  Ameliah holds up her hand. Joe stands still.

  — That was university. I met her at university, read the date.

  Ameliah looks at the photograph. Mom’s face smiling as she dances.

  — She wasn’t with your dad. Not then. Not yet. Not properly.

  Ameliah kneels down on the floor. She thinks about Mom, telling her the story. How she was at university when Dad just showed up. How she knew it was him. How she still had the necklace. She reaches into her hip pocket and pulls out the shell.

  Joe sits down, his legs crossed in front of him on the floor, just out of arm’s reach.

  — I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s hard, you know. What’s that?

  Ameliah looks at him and holds up the shell. Joe bites his lip.

  — You have it. Course you have it.

  Ameliah squeezes the shell in her hand.

  — I don’t understand. Who’s Joe?

  Joe sighs.

  — Joe is me.

  — What?

  — I mean, yeah, I’m Nathan, but I’m Joe too. Nathan Joseph McKenzie. Joe is my middle name.

  Ameliah feels her head swimming.

  — Why did you lie?

  — It’s complicated. Look, Ameliah, I’m sorry. I thought it was for the best if you didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know what your dad had told you, we said some things before I left, I just, I thought maybe if I was a stranger it would be, I dunno, I’m—

  He looks down into his drink. Ameliah stares at the photograph.

  — We met at uni, in Leeds. There was this place, this little club where they had these open mic nights. I saw her onstage.

  — With her guitar?

  — Yeah. This one night I’m watching and she just comes on and …

  He glances at the ceiling.

  — She was amazing, Ameliah.

  Ameliah looks down at the photo, at younger Joe’s eyes on Mom.

  — We got together somehow, I mean it took a while. I wouldn’t leave her alone. It was after Christmas, spring term, she gave in and we hooked up. We used to go dancing, in that same club, the one in the photo. It was like a cave. We danced, man, we’d dance all night.

  Ameliah watches him play memories over in his head.

  — And then my dad showed up.

  Joe comes back from his memory and looks at her. His face straightens.

  — Exactly. Out of the blue. Just for a visit. I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if he hadn’t driven up, you know? If we hadn’t figured our crap out and started actually getting on, he wouldn’t have visited me at all. I dunno, maybe if he’d even come up the next weekend or something. I know you can’t think like that, things happen, but your mind, your mind won’t leave it alone.

  He shakes his head.

  — How the hell was I supposed to know? We never spoke about her. I mean I knew there was a girl and that she left. I knew that much, but I never knew her name, why would I? We were so young. She moved around so much he couldn’t keep in touch with her, I dunno. It was different then, nobody had a computer.

  His eyes narrow.

  — Of all the girls, I mean all the girls anywhere, and I pick the one who still wears the necklace a boy gave her when she was fourteen.

  Ameliah looks at him.

  — He didn’t give her a necklace.

  — What?

  — He gave her the shell. She made the necklace. I know the story.

  Joe sniffs and straightens his back. He blows out air and taps his fists together gently.

  — OK, well, whoever made it, she was still wearing it. Them’s the breaks, right? I can remember the look on her face, you know, when he walked in? His face too. And that was that.

  Ameliah stares at him.

  — You’re the other guy.

  He forces a smile. She can see tears in his eyes.

  — That’s me. Who was I to get in the way of a fairy tale?

  He swigs the last of his wine.

  — I need another drink.

  Ameliah watches him as he stands up.

  — So that’s what you argued about?

  Joe tilts his head.

  — I guess that’s one way of putting it, yeah. You know I remember thinking at the time, so what? You know? So he gave you a shell, years ago, what’s the big deal?

  Ameliah takes a deep breath.

  — The universe.

  Joe looks at her.

  — What did you say?

  She stares up at him. She pictures Mom sitting on the edge of her bed, telling her that people find people all the time. That the tiniest parts of everything that’s alive are made up of particles that are either attracted to or repel each other.

  — The universe calls the shots.

  Joe’s mouth tries to smile as he sits back down on the floor.

  — Yeah, the universe. And the tape.

  His head drops forward as he sighs. Ameliah sits back on her heels.

  — What tape?

  Joe looks up.

  — Your dad’s tape. The tape he made for her that night, when he was thirteen.

  Ameliah shakes her head.

  — What tape?

  — The deal clincher. The tape of him speaking, talking about the universe and how they were meant to be and all that stuff, I don’t know. You know what’s messed up? You know what really twisted the knife when I was miles away thinking about it? I helped.

  — What do you mean?

  — I mean I helped him. That night. I didn’t have any clue what I was helping him with really, but I helped. I know I did.

  Ameliah pictures the old tape. The battered dark plastic. The torn label with the broken blue letters. Joe wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

  — He didn’t know what to do. T
he only tape he had was the one for his mom and there was no time. He hit me, you know? Your dad. Little Ryan actually hit me in the face. I was such an idiot.

  Ameliah looks at him and feels herself wanting to move closer. Joe smiles.

  — Like a movie, right? The chance had passed, she’s leaving, that was it, story over, until the hero seizes the day and does his thing. Sneaks out, stone on window, gives her the tape, they kiss, roll end credits. I don’t know what he said on that tape, but whatever it was, it worked.

  Ameliah pictures sitting behind Mom and Dad in the car. The three of them driving along a narrow road in Ireland. Dad looking at Mom, Mom smiling back. Like they both knew something that nobody else did.

  She moves forward on her knees, stopping at arm’s length from Joe.

  He taps his fists together slowly. Ameliah tries to picture him younger, watching the girl he wanted see her first love, his stepbrother, walk into the room after years of thinking she’d lost touch forever. Her fingers reaching for the necklace she made with the shell he gave her. Like a film. She pictures Joe struggling to know where to look.

  — Then what happened?

  — Then I left. That’s what happened. They had each other and I didn’t really fancy sticking around to watch the rest of that movie, to be honest.

  — To America?

  — Yeah. My course let you study away, so I applied and I went. She got pregnant with you pretty much straight away I guess.

  He shrugs.

  — Other side of the world. Everything was fine. I had a life. There were people, women, I mean Jesus, I was even engaged once. It took me a while but I moved on. That’s what you do, right?

  He shakes his head.

  — We fought. Me and your dad. It was stupid. I said some stuff, he said some stuff back, your mom tried to help, but she just made it worse really. Miles away just felt like the best thing for everyone.

  He rubs his hands down his face.

  — Then she has to go and die.

  Joe shakes his head again.

  — Look, Ameliah, I never meant—

  — So you were arguing about Mom? At the funeral?

  She pictures Joe standing in the back garden of the old house at Mom’s funeral. Looking at Dad. His face angry and confused.

  — Yeah, well, no, not really.

  — What do you mean?

  — He just dropped it on me. Years of not speaking, miles apart and all the crap we’d been carrying for all that time, and there we are, at her funeral, which I wasn’t even sure I should go to, and he tells me about the cancer. Can you imagine that? At a funeral. He tells me he’s dying and asks for my help. For him and your mom. That he’s not sure how long he has, but that the doctors have told him eighteen months. What do you say to that? What do you say to a dying man who asks you to look out for his little girl?

  He looks at her.

  — I’m here, Ameliah. I’m here cos Ryan asked me to be and I don’t even know what I’m doing.

  He rubs his eye with the palm of his hand. Ameliah feels herself wanting to help him. This man with odd socks. This man who grew up with her dad. She leans forward.

  — Do you have any Tribe Called Quest?

  Joe looks at her. She smiles. He smiles back and points to a pile of CDs stacked under the old table.

  Ryan threw clothes over his shoulder as he frantically dug through his drawers. His eyes scanned his room, looking for anywhere he might have put a blank tape.

  — Come on, come on!

  He dived down to the floor and shuffled his body under the bed, his hands reaching out, flipping over old shoes and comics.

  He dragged himself back out and smacked his head on the wooden bed frame.

  — Shit!

  He stood up, rubbing his head. His eyes fell on his boom box. The clear plastic window of tape deck two. He sat on the edge of his bed and pressed eject, sliding the dark cassette out and holding it in his hand. He stared at the word he’d written nearly two years ago, when he started recording his voice. He thought about Dad sitting on his bed, telling him he thought it was a brilliant idea. That it could be his way of speaking to her, not for anyone else.

  Ryan shook the tape in his hand. He wanted so badly to record something for Eve, something for her to take with her, to remember him by, but this was Mom’s tape, his tape for Mom. He closed his eyes, feeling his brain pushing against the inside of his skull as he gritted his teeth.

  — Help!

  He threw the cassette across the room, hearing it hit the radiator as he opened his eyes and saw Nathan standing in the doorway.

  — What do you want?!

  — You’re shouting.

  — No I’m not.

  — Yeah you are, you just shouted help! They probably heard it downstairs.

  Ryan looked at the floor. Dad and Sophia would be on the sofa, deep into their Friday night film.

  — Yeah, well, so what?

  He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Nathan stepped into the room.

  — What’s going on?

  — You know what, Nath, don’t, yeah? Just don’t. I’m looking for something and I haven’t got time for your stupid little digs, all right?

  Nathan raised his eyebrows.

  — What’s this? Angry Ryan? Where did he come from?

  Ryan moved to his desk and started rummaging under papers and books.

  — Seriously, Nathan, I’m not in the mood, so if you’re here to annoy me, just piss off, yeah?

  Nathan sat down on the end of the bed.

  — Wow. What happened? Did your girlfriend have some bad news? What’s her name anyway, Ryanetta?

  Ryan looked at him. Nathan smiled his sarcastic smile. Ryan felt his blood get hot, his legs started to shake and before he knew what was happening he was on top of Nathan on the bed, swinging wildly with his hands. Nathan yelped as he caught him in the face with an open hand. He felt the heat in his fingers as he pulled at Nathan’s collar, his legs wrapping around his body.

  — What are you doing, Ryan?!

  Nathan forced his arms down to his side and held him in a bear hug. Ryan wriggled, trying to force his way out with his neck muscles.

  Nathan squeezed him tighter and the bones in Ryan’s arms dug into his own ribs. He felt an urge and went with it.

  — Get off!

  Nathan screamed as Ryan sank his teeth into his shoulder.

  Ryan’s jaw clamped down harder on Nathan’s skin. The pair of them rolled over, their momentum taking them off the edge of the bed, and hit the floor with a thud. Ryan groaned, feeling all the air leave his chest as Nathan landed on top of him.

  Nathan pinned him down, trapping his arms under his knees, and pulled his arm back to punch. Ryan stared up at him as he fought for breath. He prepared himself for the pain, biting his teeth together. Nathan stared back, his cheeks flushed, tears in his eyes.

  — Ryan.

  He lowered his arm, falling sideways off Ryan, and slumped on to the floor.

  Ryan sat up slowly, feeling the muscles in his stomach. He shook his head and licked his lip, tasting blood.

  Nathan stared at the floor, breathing heavily.

  — Boys! You OK up there?

  Sophia’s voice called out from the hall downstairs.

  Ryan looked at Nathan. Nathan lifted his head and stared at him.

  — We’re fine, Mom! Just messing about.

  — Ryan! You OK?

  Ryan stared at Nathan as he called back.

  — Yeah! He’s right, we’re just messing about! Sorry!

  — Well, just be careful, OK!

  The living-room door closed. Ryan licked the blood from his lip. Nathan rubbed his shoulder with his hand.

  — I could’ve knocked you out you know.

  Ryan looked at him.

  Nathan pulled at his T-shirt, trying to look at his neck.

  — I can’t believe you bit me. Who bites?

  Ryan shrugged and stuck out his bloody bottom lip.

&
nbsp; — What can I say? That’s pretty much my first ever fight.

  Nathan looked at him.

  — What did you lose?

  — I can’t find the blank tape. I thought I had one.

  — What for?

  Ryan sighed.

  — She’s leaving. I had a plan but I don’t have time. I just wanted to do something. I doesn’t matter now.

  — When does she go?

  — In the morning. Her mom’s come to get her.

  — What about that one?

  Nathan pointed to the floor near the radiator. Ryan stared at Mom’s tape lying on the carpet. The dark plastic against the chocolate brown. He felt his shoulders drop.

  — That one’s taken.

  Nathan shrugged.

  — So tape over it.

  Ryan shook his head and looked down.

  — I can’t.

  Nathan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  — Fine, but she’ll be gone, and you’ll wish you had.

  — Leave it, Nath, yeah?

  Nathan stared at him. Ryan thought about Mom and stared back. Nathan started to get up.

  — OK. I’m just saying. When people leave and you don’t tell them what you want to before they go, it feels rubbish.

  Ryan looked up at him. Nathan nodded.

  — Trust me.

  Nathan walked out of the room. Ryan stared at the empty door frame. He could feel the pain in his ribs. He thought about Eve, her face in the moonlight at the fence. He thought about the universe, what she’d said. He thought about luck, the random chance that put people together. Mom believed in luck. He turned and stared at Mom’s tape. The rectangle of matt-black plastic that had so much of him in it and, as he felt the air filling his lungs, he knew what he had to do.

  The engine cuts off.

  Ameliah feels Nan’s eyes on her as she stares out of the passenger window at the dark houses on their road. She touches the shell in her hoody pocket as she hears the keys in Nan’s hand and stares at the front door of the house she now calls home.

  — You could have told me.

  She turns to Nan. Nan nods.

  — I know, love, I’m sorry, but it wasn’t really my call.

  She sighs.

  — I know it’s a lot to take in, but you have to remember he’s trying to do the right thing, like your dad asked him to. It’s a big responsibility looking out for someone else’s kid, especially when you’re—

  — The other guy.