The Dirty South

by Alex Wheatle

  ‘WHAT ARE YOU?’ one of the attackers shouted at Noel. ‘WHAT ARE YOU? MUSLIM OR CHRISTIAN?’

  ‘Fuck you! You fucking pussy! Go wok your mum!’

  The words barely came out of Noel’s split lips. I now felt tears on my own face… ‘Noel, bruv. Just…’ I tried yet again to wriggle myself free but something blunt hit my right cheekbone. I didn’t even see what it was. Courtney Thompson was still glaring at me, not even bothering to look at Noel’s battering. I got another gun butt. This time in my face. I was now on my knees. The inside of my head felt hot.

  The Nikes never stopped. Kick after kick. I was thinking that boots to the face in real life sound nothing as loud as they sound in a movie. Noel’s resistance was now over. His nose was pumping blood and his eyes were now swollen and closing… Blood was now spotting the concrete.

  ‘MUSLIM OR CHRISTIAN?’ one of them yelled. ‘Say MUSLIM and we’ll stop.’

  Noel shook his head. Even now he wasn’t gonna give them the pleasure. I wished he would just say it, murmur it. Just so the beating could stop. ‘I’M A MUSLIM,’ I shouted. ‘Satisfied? Stop beating him, bruv… I’M A FUCKING MUSLIM!’

  ‘I want him to say it,’ said Courtney Thompson in a low voice. ‘Then you. You’ll get your turn.’

  The kicking continued. All over his body. There were no more yelps of pain. It would have been kinder to just pull the trigger, simple as. I hardly noticed the tears dripping off my chin. My best friend laying still in front of me, trying to curl himself into a foetus position, trying to protect his head. And I could do nothing. If someone studies my DNA long after I’m dead, they’ll see that image. Kick, kick, kick. A fist opened my eyes. Courtney Thompson still staring… Courtney Thompson still hating. For a short moment I thought burn all the religious shit out of it. This was just about sex. Me being more wokable to women than him. It was in his eyes. Maybe he was impotent or something?

  They all started on me. I felt yet another gun butt behind my left ear. I could hardly focus my eyes but there was a figure in front of me. Right up close. It was Courtney… He was proper hating. His eyes wouldn’t leave me alone. ‘All this ’cos I could’ve woked Tania Blake?’ I said. ‘And trust me, Courtney, she was proper begging for it.’

  ‘He won’t say nothing,’ he said to his crew. ‘No, he won’t say nothing.’

  Courtney punched me on the side of my face. I was bordering on unconsciousness but he placed his right hand beneath my chin and raised my head. ‘There are two types of people in this world. Those who know where your girl, Akeisha Parris, lives… And those who don’t. Angel Town! Second floor. Need I go on? You two look so kinda together, especially when you go out as a family with her son, Curtis.’

  By now I knew it wasn’t worth saying anything. I just hoped I would leave this place alive. Noel’s body was crumpled on the concrete. He wasn’t moving. But at that moment I saw something in Courtney. Something deep and troubling Something that he could never reveal. I was in a fucked up state but I saw it. It was a wild guess but it was there in his eyes. Could he be a chi chi man?

  ‘From this day onward, you’re paying tax,’ continued Courtney. ‘A hundred notes a week for the privilege of shotting in Bricky. You pay or we pay a visit to Akeisha. Simple as. And I would enjoy woking her.’ He turned around to his crew expecting some kind of applause, some kind of salute of how manly he’d just been. I searched his eyes and I was convinced he was a shirt-lifter. Attracted to me.

  My mind began to play tricks on me. I had just recalled the time Noel nicked from a corner shop for the first time when Courtney kicked me in the jaw. It’s funny what you remember during shit like that and the last thing I recall is that Courtney was the only one in his crew not wearing Nikes. He was wearing these black brogues and I thought it just didn’t go with his white dress thing. It’s a fucked-up memory but that’s how it was.

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE LION OF JUDAH VERSUS THE CRESCENT MOON

  Waking up in a hospital bed, I focused and saw my family around me. Mum was closest, sitting on a wooden chair. She was holding her handbag tight and it was obvious she had been crying. She looked so tired. It was only when I turned my head to look at her that I realised my head was wrapped in bandages. A banging ache made me grimace but I still managed to give a weak smile for Mum. She returned the smile and leant towards me. She placed her hands around my cheeks and chin and she started to cry again. Her lips were trembling as they touched my forehead. I couldn’t really call it a kiss but a vibe of warmth and familiarity went through my body.

  I glanced further along the side of my bed and there was Paps and Davinia. Paps look was one of relief and anger. It seemed he had been controlling his fury for quite a time. Davinia seemed to be in shock. Her mouth was slightly open and she couldn’t take her eyes away from my head. A nice sensation filled me, knowing my family were around me, but it quickly turned to dread. The ever-present image of Noel laying lifeless on the concrete pounded my senses like a Lennox Lewis combination… Kick after kick. His face gradually getting messed up before my eyes. Kick after kick.

  ‘Noel?’ I spoke, barely having the energy to get his name out.

  Mum then placed her arms around my shoulders and gently put her head upon my chest. She looked towards the bottom of the bed as she cried. I looked at Paps and he was desperately trying to avoid my gaze. Davinia covered her eyes with her palms, turned sideways and started bawling. She wasn’t holding back and I have never seen her like that before or since.

  ‘Noel?’ I asked again.

  I knew the answer but I wanted someone to confirm it. I searched my paps’ eyes again and this time he had the courage to look at me full on. I felt a horrible pang in the pit of my stomach and this weird feeling in my throat. There was a pause as Paps collected his thoughts. He then scratched the side of his nose and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. He took in a breath and said, ‘They tried so hard to revive him on the scene but he was dead on arrival… He had a blood clot in the brain. I’m so sorry, Dennis.’

  A single tear ran down Paps’ left cheek but he didn’t wipe it away. It just went down to his jaw and there it stayed for a while. I felt empty, like someone had stuck a hoover to my spirit and whatever sweet vibes of life I had were sucked away. I wanted to be duppied like Noel. Wherever Noel was I wanted to take my sad black ass there so he could take my place here. I felt like a cheat, a fucking cheat! Why Noel and why not me? Courtney Thompson hated on me. He had no issues with Noel. If I wasn’t there it would have been an everyday jack, simple as. Noel would have lost his skunk, his mobile and his Nikes but he would have lived.

  Tears were flowing but I still kept looking at Paps. I knew he had been where I now was… He had faced his maker when he was flung over a fourth floor tower block balcony by a Bricky crime lord. It was only now that I finally understood why he never wanted to talk about that night. Fear of what feelings you may bring to the surface… Pure undiluted dread. I guess it’s difficult for men to accept that sometimes we can’t face up to shit. Things are sometimes too scary. I wondered if he felt like a cheat for escaping death.

  Mum kept crying and Davinia refused to reveal her face. Paps took a step forward and reached for my left hand. He gripped it tight and I maintained eye contact with him. But suddenly the hand he was holding turned into a fist. I wrenched it free and punched the wall behind me. Why Noel and why not me? Mum’s wailing got louder and Davinia, unable to take the stress of the situation, about turned and marched off.

  ‘I’ll better go get her,’ said Paps.

  He hobbled after her and it was only then that I realised he was using his walking stick.

  It felt good to have Mum so close to me. I wondered why was it that she only showed her love for me when someone pounded the fuck out of me? I began stroking her hair but she just kept on crying. Of course, she wouldn’t let me see her tears… Memories of Noel were filling my brain at rapid speed. I realised that the thing he craved the most was his m
other’s love. Simple as. I wondered if Cara ever stroked Noel’s hair. I wondered how many times did Noel fall asleep in her arms. I’m sure she did love him. In a fucked-up kinda way. But did Noel know that she loved him? I really hope he did. Why Noel and not me?

  Mum wiped her face before she turned to me. Even on a day like this she was wearing make-up and her newly-permed hair was now messed up. ‘When we got the call we thought you was dead,’ she said in a voice just above a whisper. ‘It was Cara who called us. She was very calm. Almost dream-like. The police had found Noel’s car.’

  She trailed off. Obviously, describing the discovery of our bodies was too much for her. ‘You have already had two x-rays,’ Mum revealed. ‘There is a swelling of your skull at the back of your head and you will have to remain under observation for a while. You’ve been unconscious for hours. We was frantic with worry because there was concern that you might slip into a coma…’

  I wasn’t really listening to Mum. My mind just kept on repeating the same question… Why Noel and why not me?

  ‘The consultant at first thought you had a stress fracture but after the second x-ray he said it was just a swelling. But it has to be monitored.’

  I thought Mum felt better talking about my medical condition. I guess it was easier to talk about what the fuck’s wrong with me than talk about Noel and what a huge loss we had all suffered. Guilt pressed my next question. ‘How’s Cara, Mum?’

  She glanced behind her as if she wanted Paps to deal with the question. But he wasn’t there. ‘She was bearing up well until she had to identify the body,’ Mum answered. ‘I don’t think she was taking it all in. I phoned Sharon and Floyd and they are now looking after her and the kids. Cara’s mum is on her way down from Thornton Heath too.’

  The tears started again and Mum just buried her head into the bed covers. I looked up and saw Paps returning. He was without Davinia.

  ‘She’s getting something to drink,’ he said. ‘She’s very upset.’

  Paps sat on the bed and looked at me. I felt he was trying to read my thoughts.

  ‘What piece of fucking shit did this to you and Noel, Dennis?’ he said. Now his fury was obvious. His words were spoken softly but they were loaded with venom and a hunger for revenge. Would he round up his old bredrens and hunt for Noel’s killers and my attackers? ‘Did you recognise who did it?’

  For some reason I thought of Akeisha and Courtney Thompson’s threat. Then I wondered what would Noel do if he was in my place and I was dead. He would take Thompson out. Simple as. Merk the fake Muslim, no doubt about it. That was Noel.

  ‘I didn’t recognise them, Paps,’ I finally answered.

  Paps offered me a long hard stare. He knew I was lying. ‘I want you to think about this very hard, Dennis. Noel is dead and you could have died too. Noel needs justice and so do you. Try and think, Dennis. Did you recognise who did this?’

  I held Paps’ gaze and after a few seconds I shook my head. ‘No, Paps. All I know is there was about seven or eight of them.’

  Paps was brewing but he managed to control his anger as he said, ‘The police will probably question you tomorrow. Maybe before that time something will jog your memory. After all, you have suffered concussion.’

  ‘Yes, Paps. I’ll try and go over what happened.’

  Davinia returned drinking from an apple juice carton and Paps stood up. ‘Do you want a hot drink, Carol?’ he asked Mum.

  Mum nodded, her face still buried in the bed covers. Paps patted me on the shoulder and limped along the hospital corridor. If I can withstand an interrogation from him, I thought, then the Feds will be no worries.

  Two hours later, Paps had taken Davinia home but Mum still remained. To be honest she was getting on my nerves a bit. Fussing about is the bed comfortable? Are you hungry? Shall I go home and cook something special? Was I thirsty? Shall I bathe you? Shall I buy a pair of pyjamas? It was a relief to see Akeisha enter the ward and sit on my bed. She kissed me on the left cheek and offered me a huge smile… I glanced at Mum and I could see she was put out a bit.

  ‘I’m so relieved you’re alright,’ Akeisha said. ‘Thank God!’

  ‘He’s not out of the woods yet,’ Mum interrupted. ‘He has to stay here under observation for a few days yet.’

  ‘Well, when you come out you can stay with me for a while until you get back on your feet,’ Akeisha said.

  That last sentence improved my recovery no end but judging by Mum’s expression there was no way I could agree to it. ‘Mum’s already took time off work to look after me when I come out,’ I revealed. ‘I’m sure I’ll be alright anyway.’

  ‘He needs his rest now, Akeisha,’ Mum said in her over-polite voice. ‘Needs his sleep.’

  ‘I’m OK, Mum,’ I said.

  I began to think that Mum was trying to compensate for all those years when she wasn’t home when I arrived back from school. She needn’t feel bad ’cos I preferred it that way. When Mum was home all she did was nag my black ass.

  Akeisha kissed me again and gave me a hug. I felt good, very good, but Noel won’t have that sensation any more. He will never feel the tingle of Priscilla’s lips on his forehead. He will never wake up in Priscilla’s arms. He will never… Why Noel and why not me?

  With Akeisha’s arms around my neck and feeling the warmth of her skin next to mine, I came to a decision. There was no debate in my mind and there was no way I could allow Courtney Thompson to have a threat over me or Akeisha. Burn him! No way he’s gonna trouble or hurt Akeisha. I won’t let it happen… I’ll have to merk him, duppy him, simple as. He duppied my bredren and as long as I could remember Paps was telling me not to trust the Feds. They couldn’t be trusted. So I ain’t gonna tell them shit. Noel hated the Feds so he would have agreed with me.

  Granny always used to tell me that when the West Indian cricket team was in their prime, they targeted the captain of the opposing team. If they could humiliate the captain, the team would lose confidence was the idea. Courtney Thompson’s the Muslim crew’s captain. What did Robert De Niro do when the local mafia don tried to sweat him for P’s in The Godfather 2? De Niro’s character took full responsibility and duppied the white-suited don, simple as. Courtney has to be merked, no doubt about it and the responsibility is mine… When I recover I’m gonna stalk the motherfucker. Find out where he steps, where he prays to his Muslim God, where he chills, where the fuck he buys his crisps, where he shits, where he buys his fucking batty paper. I’m gonna blaze him like a Capleton song. His mother will be shopping at motherfucking Morleys for her black garms shit and she’d better buy a new pair of fucking glasses so she can recognise her pussyhole dog-heart son. Noel would have done the same shit for me. And I ain’t saying dog to nobody. Not even Akeisha… It’s for her anyway, it’ll keep her safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to her. Nothing! Trust!

  Next morning two Feds appeared by my bed. One was a woman, the other a guy. It was the guy who came with the notepad and shit. He wasn’t that much older than me and he looked a little nervous, chewing his pen and shit. I ain’t gonna tell him a fucking dog! He probably lived in somewhere like New Malden. Fuck him and his mum! The woman looked too confident, too assured. She was thirty-something, attractive but businesslike. She grabbed an extra chair from the hallway and brought it up close. She probably grew up around black people, somewhere like Streatham. Maybe she woked a black brother once in her teenage years but was too ugly to keep him. Burn her anyway! I ain’t gonna tell her shit.

  The other Fed pulled the curtains around my little space. Paps was sitting at the end of the bed. He had his screwface on. His walking stick was propped up against the wall; I noticed he had decorated it in red, gold and green tape. Mum had gone for a walk, she didn’t want to hear the details of my jacking. The Feds introduced themselves. They were so polite I kinda thought for a minute that my black ass had turned white and I was on a Caribbean Sandals holiday. I thought of that old school Smile Orange film that Paps loved so much. The Feds finally got down
to business.

  ‘Did you recognise any of them, Dennis?’ the woman asked, her head tilted at an angle.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Not even vaguely?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How many were there, Dennis?’

  ‘About seven or eight.’

  ‘Were they all black?’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a pause. Paps was giving one of his suspicious stares to the male Fed. He ignored Paps and carried on writing.

  ‘Can you tell us what they were wearing?’ the female Fed went on.

  ‘The usual garms. Baggy jeans, sweat tops, name-brand trainers. A couple of them were wearing hoodies but everyone wears them.’

  ‘Anything distinctive, Dennis?’

  ‘Three or four were wearing skull caps. They had guns.’

  Shit! Didn’t mean to reveal that. The Feds looked at one another. The male Fed scribbled furiously in his notepad. Paps stood up and switched big time. ‘What are you gonna do about it?’ he yelled. ‘I’ve heard about this! There are Muslim gangs marauding all over the place in Brixton! Killing people and doing these violent religious conversions! Armed to the fucking teeth! What the bloodclaat you gonna do about it! This ain’t the first time! You know it’s going on! Outside schools and youth clubs. Dreads in my day didn’t go around killing people all because they weren’t rastas! They didn’t ram their beliefs down people’s throats. If we had issues with society or the police we fought them man to man! We didn’t kill innocent people in the name of religion. What the raas you doing to prevent this fuckery? Or are you too busy trying to catch drivers without MOTs? Is this gonna be another Stephen Lawrence episode? SAME OLD FUCKING BABYLON! SAME OLD FUCKERY!’

  The male Fed got even more nervous and I almost laughed to myself. It was good that Paps still had some of that old revolutionary 1981 Brixton uprising shit in his blood… The woman turned to Paps. ‘Please, Mr Huggins. I understand your anger but I want to assure you that we are doing everything in our power.’