Pigeon English

by Stephen Kelman

  Me: ‘Goodbye Agnes!’

  Agnes: ‘Goobah!’

  Sometimes I can still feel it when I go to sleep.

  Mamma: ‘Harrison even had his coat stolen. Can you believe it? They don’t care about anything.’

  Mr Frimpong: ‘I bet it was the same boys that got me. Hooligans.’

  The window at church is fixed but you can still see where the bad words didn’t come off properly. They’re just hanging around like devil whispers waiting to trap you. I couldn’t concentrate on praying because I kept remembering them. The prayer sounded right when Pastor Taylor said it but it came out wrong inside my head.

  Me: ‘Dear fucking God, please stop all the bad shit happening. Thanks a fucking lot. Amen.’

  Asweh, lucky it was only in my head! My main superpower would be invisible. I get it from my alligator tooth. That’s why Mr Frimpong never saw me when he got knocked down. I was there but he never knew it. My alligator tooth gave me invisible power, it’s the only reason I can think of. I knew it was special, that’s why Papa gave it to me.

  Prossie and hooker and tutufo all mean the same. In England, if a girl has a tattoo it means she’s a tutufo. Jordan’s mamma has a tattoo of a scorpion on her shoulder. She doesn’t even try to hide it, everyone can see it because she only wears a vest. It just feels too crazy. Somebody’s mamma shouldn’t have a tattoo, they should only be for men. Even a fierce one like a scorpion. If Mamma ever got a tattoo I’d just split. I’d go and live by the river. I’d only need a tent and a slingshot for catching squirrels.

  You should see how far I can kick my new ball. Real skin footballs are much better than plastic. I can kick it right to the other end of the corridor and it doesn’t even fly away, it stays low to the ground like a rocket. That’s what Jordan calls it.

  Jordan: ‘This one’s gonna be a rocket, man!’

  Jordan blasted it at my legs. He did it proper hard to make it hurt. He loves it when he gets me. I try to jump out of the way but the ball always hits me, it’s like it’s magnetic or something. It’s very vexing.

  Jordan: ‘Yes! Got you! Pussy! Quick, it’s Fag Ash Lil! Pass it!’

  Fag Ash Lil was coming in the door. I passed the ball to Jordan.

  Jordan: ‘Pretend you didn’t see her.’

  Fag Ash Lil lives on floor 2. She’s called Fag Ash Lil because she picks up old fags from the ground. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. She never smokes them, she just puts them in her pocket. She’s the oldest person I’ve ever seen, at least two hundred years. When she was little there were no cars and every day was a war. She always wears the same dress with no coat or socks, even when it’s raining, and her legs are very skinny like a bird. She can only say

  Fag Ash Lil: ‘Bloody hell!’

  Asweh, she’s proper hutious. She would kill me like that if she wanted. She’s killed loads of children before but the police can’t catch her because she’s got magic that keeps them away from the terrible truth. I pretended like I didn’t see her. I just kept my eyes on the ball. Fag Ash Lil pressed the button for the lift. I got ready to run.

  Jordan blasted the ball at her. It hit her proper hard right on the legs. She wasn’t suspecting it. You could even hear her bones cracking.

  Fag Ash Lil: ‘Bloody hell!’

  Jordan: ‘Sorry! It was an accident!’

  The lift came and Fag Ash Lil got in. Jordan kicked the ball at her again. It hit her right in the face and bounced back out.

  Jordan: ‘Stupid old bastard!’

  Fag Ash Lil was looking right at me before the doors closed, her eyes were all mad and blue. She thought it was me. It’s not even fair, I only wanted to play passing. It just gets vexing when they blast it all the time. Now Fag Ash Lil is my nemesis (it’s what Altaf calls the villian who always tries to destroy the superhero). I just hope my powers are stronger than hers.

  Me: ‘What did you do that for, she go kill us now!’

  Jordan: ‘Don’t be gay, if she comes after us I’ll just shank her, innit.’

  Jordan showed me his knife. I didn’t even see where it came from. I never suspected it in a million years. It has a green handle the same as the knives from Mamma’s block. It’s like her tomatoes knife. It even looks too deadly for tomatoes.

  Jordan: ‘This is my war knife. No one f—s with me, man. I’m telling you, when the war starts I’m gonna be ready for them.’

  He was looking at the knife proper hard like it was his favourite thing. His eyes were all big. He showed me how to carry it so nobody can see. You just put it down your leg. You have to hold the handle or it will just fall through your trousers onto the floor. It works best if your trousers are elastic at the top. Otherwise you can just use your pocket.

  Jordan: ‘It’s well sharp, look.’

  He scratched the knife on the wall. He wrote cock with it like it was a pen, you could see the letters loud and clear.

  Jordan: ‘You should get one, you need it. I’ll get one for you, my mum’s got loads.’

  Me: ‘No thanks. I don’t really need one.’

  Jordan: ‘Course you do, everyone needs one. Try and get one the same as mine, then we can be war brothers, innit. What’s the matter, don’t you wanna be brothers?’

  He held the knife near my face. He twisted the blade around in the air like he was trying to open a lock with it. I felt like the lock. Everything went slow until he put the knife down again.

  Jordan: ‘Rarse, you should’ve seen your face, man! You were shitting yourself!’

  Me: ‘No I wasn’t! You’re not even funny!’

  Everybody says there’s a war but I haven’t seen it yet. There’s a hell of wars going on all the time:

  Wars

  Kids vs Teachers

  Northwell Manor High vs Leabridge High

  Dell Farm Crew vs Lewsey Hill Crew

  Emos vs Sunshine

  Turkey vs Russia

  Arsenal vs Chelsea

  Black vs White

  Police vs Kids

  God vs Allah

  Chicken Joe’s vs KFC

  Cats vs Dogs

  Aliens vs Predators

  I haven’t seen any of them. You’d know if there was a war because all the windows would be broken and the helicopters would have guns on them. The helicopters don’t even have guns, just torchlights. I don’t even think there’s a war. I haven’t seen it.

  I don’t even know what side I’m on. Nobody’s told me yet. Vs just means against.

  When Mamma was in the shower I got the tomato knife from the block. It was just a test. You had to be extra careful with the pointy end. I held it like an ironboy, I chooked the air like it was an enemy. I put it in my trousers. I walked around with it and pretended like there was a war. I pretended like God forgot me so I could do all the bad war things and not even have to feel it.

  Me: ‘There’s a war! God has forgotten me! Papa has forgotten me! All the lights in the street are broken and the wolves are chasing us! It’s every man for himself! (I only said it inside my head.)

  I had to put the knife back in the end, it was getting too hutious. It’s too sharp. I kept waiting to cut my own leg. You can’t keep a knife in your trousers all the time, you might forget it’s there and when you sit down it will go through your leg and come out the other side. If a war starts I’ll just split instead, it’s easier. I’m the best runner in the whole of Year 7, only Brett Shawcross can even catch me.

  Ross Kelly is like that because somebody put acid in his milk when he was a baby. Everybody agrees. He always sticks his tongue out when he’s writing his answers, he says it helps him concentrate but it just makes him look dey touch. I tried writing with my tongue sticking out: it didn’t make me write any faster. It just made my tongue go proper frozen and dry.

  If Ross Kelly calls Poppy Four Eyes again I’ll push him out the window. I only let him look through my binoculars because he begged like a dog.

  Me: ‘It’s Poppy’s turn next!’

  Ross Kelly: ‘S
he don’t need binoculars, she’s got four eyes already.’

  Poppy: ‘Piss off!’

  Me: ‘Yeah, piss off, Skidmark!’

  I went to the cafeteria window and Poppy stayed by the library stairs. Then she watched me through the binoculars. When I got back she had to say what I was doing.

  Poppy: ‘You were walking in slow motion. I could see you.’

  Me: ‘That wasn’t slow motion, that was a robot.’

  Poppy: ‘Whatever. They both look the same to me.’

  Me: ‘I wasn’t blurry or anything though? I looked close-up?’

  Poppy: ‘Yes.’

  Me: ‘See, I told you they were real.’

  Poppy: ‘I believe you, I believe you!’

  I put my binoculars back in my bag for if they got broken. Nobody knows what they’re really for, just me and Dean. I can’t even tell Poppy about the case. I have to protect her for if the killer tries to hurt her to get to me. They’re always doing that: they kidnap the detective’s wife and cut her toes off one after another until the detective gives up. If Poppy asks, the binoculars are just for birds and distant games. It’s safer like that. Poppy is my girlfriend now. It was easy. I didn’t even have to ask her, I only had to tick the box.

  So far I’ve collected five fingerprints. I’ve got Manik’s, Connor Green’s, Ross Kelly’s, Altaf’s, and Saleem Khan’s. I asked for Chevon Brown’s, Brett Shawcross’s and Charmaine de Freitas’s but they all told me to go f— myself.

  Dean: ‘We need innocent prints to compare to the killer’s, so we can rule them out of the investigation.’

  Me: ‘Roger that, Captain. I’m on it like stink.’

  I put all the sellotapes with the fingerprints on in my special hiding place with my alligator tooth. I folded them up in paper so they don’t get any dirt or hairs on them. My room is now my headquarters. Nobody’s allowed in without the password and I haven’t even told anybody what the password is (it’s pigeon, after my pigeon. Nobody else can find out if you only think it).

  It isn’t really a fingerprint’s job to identify you. That’s just an accident because everybody’s pattern is different. A fingerprint is really just for feeling with. They’re so you can tell the different textures and surfaces. Mr Tomlin told us.

  Mr Tomlin: ‘The fingerprint is made up of tiny ridges in the skin. When you brush your fingertips over a surface, it causes vibrations, and these friction ridges amplify the vibrations, making the signals to your sensory nerves stronger and allowing the brain to analyse the texture better.’

  Me: ‘So you can feel the close-up of things.’

  Mr Tomlin: ‘That’s right.’

  I couldn’t burn my fingers so I decided just to freeze them instead. It was the next best way to make them go numb. I just wanted to see what Auntie Sonia’s fingers feel like. I wanted to see if it was true about the close-up things. I got some snow from the bottom of the freezer and scraped a big pile into the bowl.

  Me: ‘Can you get frostbite from the freezer snow?’

  Lydia: ‘Advise yourself. Of course you can’t.’

  Me: ‘But if I touched it for a really long time. Like for one whole hour. Then I might. I don’t want them to die, I just want to freeze them for a little while. Don’t let me freeze them too long, OK? Tell me when it’s been half an hour, that should do it.’

  It took donkey hours for my fingers to go numb. It even gave me pains. The cold was so cold it was burning. I kept wanting to take my fingers out but I had to leave them in for it to work. Lydia was watching Hollyoaks. The boy was kissing the other boy again. I just used the sick feeling it gave me for a distraction. I pretended I couldn’t see my fingers. I pretended they didn’t even belong to me.

  Me: ‘Are you counting?’

  Lydia: ‘Don’t disturb! I’m watching this!’

  When my fingers finally went numb it was like they just fell off. I couldn’t even feel them anymore. Asweh, it felt very crazy. I got a melon and touched it. It even worked! I couldn’t even feel the pattern on the outside. It was like my fingers weren’t even made of skin anymore, it was like they were made of nothing. I swear by God, It was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.

  I tried the cushion on the sofa. I couldn’t even feel the pattern. It’s only lines but I couldn’t even feel them. I was pressing proper hard but nothing happened. It was like I wasn’t even there but just a spirit. I felt the feathers on Lydia’s parrot costume. They didn’t feel soft enough, they were too far away. I felt Lydia’s face. I couldn’t hardly feel it. I tried her nose and her lips and her cheek and her ear. I tried everything. It all felt far away, like she was just a dream.

  Me: ‘It feels crazy! You should try it.’

  Lydia: ‘Ho! Get off! It’s cold!’

  I tried to pick up a groundnut but it was too complicated. I kept missing. It was very funny. You can see your finger on the groundnut but you can’t make it pick up. You just keep dropping it. It’s proper vexing. It makes you feel very stupid. I only stopped when I forgot how long it had been. Lydia stopped counting donkey hours ago.

  Me: ‘The experiment was a complete success!’

  Lydia: ‘You’re a complete retard!’

  It was even hutious at first, you think the numbness will last forever. I felt sorry for Auntie Sonia then. I could still remember what the things felt like, I could use my memory to trick my fingers. But what happens if you tried to feel something brand new that you don’t already know? I pretended like I was Auntie Sonia and I was in a new country where everything was brand new. I couldn’t remember how anything feels because I haven’t been there before. It was very hutious.

  Me: ‘What if it’s night-time and all the light goes out and there’s a fire, how will she find her way outside?’

  Lydia: ‘I don’t know. It won’t even happen.’

  Me: ‘What if it does happen? She’ll get burned up like human toast.’

  It even made me feel sick, I didn’t want to think about it. When the numbness starts to run out it makes your fingers go all prickly. Asweh, it was a mighty relief. It meant they’d go back to normal. If I had to be numb forever it would just be too vexing. I’d have to pick everything up with my mouth instead like a dog. Everybody would call me Dogboy. I don’t even want to think about it for if I make it come true.

  Lydia’s only vexed because she’s not good enough to be a detective. She only wants to make hair when she grows up. All girls just want to make hair.

  Me: ‘My job’s better. Detectives catch the bad guy and you can drive as fast as you like.’

  Miquita: ‘The detective don’t get a gun though. The bad guy does. And he don’t have to ask for what he wants, he just takes it. The detective’s just an employee with a target on his back. I don’t wanna work for no one, man.’

  Miquita was ironing Lydia’s hair. Mamma go sound her when she finds out.

  Me: ‘I bet it goes on fire.’

  Lydia: ‘How! No it won’t.’

  Me: ‘I bet it does.’

  Lydia: ‘Don’t disturb!’

  Me: ‘I can watch if I want.’

  Lydia can’t stop me watching. I’m the man of the house.

  Lydia: ‘Just don’t burn me, OK?’

  Miquita: ‘Don’t worry, man. I’ve done it enough times.’

  Chanelle: ‘Twice.’

  Miquita: ‘So? I’m well skilful, innit. My auntie taught me, she learned it in the pen.’

  Miquita’s auntie was a forger. It’s when they buy something with a ticket except it isn’t a real ticket, they actually drew it themself.

  The whole thing takes donkey hours. When you iron the hair you only do a little bit at a time. You have to go proper slow so you don’t make a fire, first one side then the other. It’s very relaxing. I nearly fell asleep. We had to stop for a break. They pretended the apple juice was champagne.

  I told you. Girls are very stupid.

  It was very funny watching Lydia try to keep still. She was concentrating proper hard. She wa
s even scared of the iron. When it came near her she closed her eyes up tight.

  Lydia: ‘Watch my ears.’

  Miquita: ‘Why, what are they doing?’

  Lydia: ‘Don’t mess around.’

  Lydia’s hair was actually going flat. It happened right before our eyes. It looked bo-styles. Lydia was very happy, you could tell. She kept looking at herself in the mirror. She was falling in love with herself. Asweh, it was very funny.

  Me: ‘You want to kiss yourself. Go on, kiss yourself!’

  Lydia: ‘Don’t disturb!’

  Miquita: ‘Keep still, man, or I’ll burn you.’

  She was holding the iron right next to Lydia’s ear. There was smoke coming from it. Then Miquita’s face went all hard. It came from nowhere. She wasn’t laughing anymore.

  Miquita: ‘Are you with us?’

  Lydia: ‘What are you talking about?’

  Miquita: ‘You know what I’m talking about. You’re either with us or against us, innit.’

  The iron was right over Lydia’s eye. It was nearly touching it. The smoke was going in her face. My belly went cold. Chanelle ate the last Oreo.

  Chanelle: ‘Don’t, man, that ain’t necessary. She knows the score, innit.’

  Miquita: ‘Shut up. Don’t make me bounce you. You didn’t see nothing. You don’t know nothing, right?’

  Everything went proper slow. Miquita was making the iron go near then pulling it away like a crazy game. I could feel Lydia’s scared, it made me scared as well. I got ready like for an invader. I planned it in my head: get the knife from the block, chook the invader until they’re blind, then push them outside and into the lift. One of us call the police. Chook them sharp-sharp so you don’t have to feel it. It’s only self-defence. Lydia closed her eyes. I could even smell the burning before it happened. It felt like all the birds fell out of the sky, dead.

  Lydia: ‘Please. I don’t know anything. I’m with you, I’m with you.’