Peace

by A. D. Koboah

  Once, I left him with Barbara for the night so I could catch up on some reading that had to be done and she had made the mistake of throwing the teddy bear away. I had returned the following day to Dante crying and screaming for his beloved teddy bear. Barbara, who was not easily unnerved, had spent the past few hours trying to quell his repeated cries for his favourite toy and had almost been reduced to tears. She had retrieved it from the dustbin and was in the process of washing it when I had arrived to collect him. Once she had put the sodden bear in his hands, the tears had died down but it had taken him a few days to forgive her. I smiled when I remembered the way he had shunned her hugs and kisses and screamed, “Go ’way!” every time she came near him regardless of the many bribes she offered to try and regain his affection. I had grown a little fonder of that teddy bear since then because of the trouble it had given Barbara, but it was still an ugly little thing and I had wanted to throw it away myself on many occasions.

  “Here you go, baby,” I said when I returned with the teddy bear.

  The smile that lit up his beautiful face, especially for me, made me love that teddy bear almost as much as he did in that moment. He dutifully kissed me on the cheek and for once let me tuck him into bed without a fuss. Moments later, he was sound asleep.

  Watching him sleeping peacefully, I felt tearful myself at the sight of the candlelit room and at the thought that there was so much that we didn’t have. Wiping away a few tears that had snuck down my cheeks, I kissed him softly on the head.

  “You deserve so much more than this, sweetheart,” I whispered before I pulled away from him and picked up my textbook.

  I was tired and the strain of reading by candlelight was giving me a headache. But as I looked at the sleeping child by my side, I knew I couldn’t give in to sleep. I had to do everything that was physically possible of me to build a better future for Dante. A future that didn’t involve living from hand-to-mouth or relying so heavily on my mother and sister for things that most young families took for granted. I worked well into the night, driven to succeed by the responsibility placed on my shoulders for the young life sleeping beside me. I was driven by love, pride and desperation to escape poverty and society’s preconceptions regarding young single mothers and their offspring.

  ***

  When I woke up the next morning the flat was even colder than it had been the night before. I could no longer hear the hum of the refrigerator, an indication that the electricity had run out.

  I switched on the portable gas heater and ran a bath for Dante, thankful that some hot water was still left in the tank. As I bathed and dressed him and then got myself ready for college, I thought about the million and one things that I had to do before night fell again. The one thing that kept surfacing again and again was that I was going to have to swallow my pride and ask my mother to lend me some money. Another thought that resurfaced was why did everything have to be so hard? When were things ever going to get easier for us?

  That afternoon, I walked sullenly into my mother’s house, thinking of the best way to ask her for the money.

  “Where’s Dante?” I asked as I followed her into the living room.

  “He’s upstairs with Barbara.”

  “Okay. Ma, I was wondering if you could lend me a tenner until I get paid on Friday.”

  “Of course, bring me my bag,” she said gesturing to her bag by the television. “What do you need it for?”

  “I just need some money to tide me over until I get paid.”

  She shook her head as I handed her bag to her, and I felt a knot of anger in my chest.

  “What is it, Ma?”

  “You always run out of money around this time of the month. You have a child now, Peace. You have got to learn to manage your money better than this.”

  I froze as the last few years of suppressed anger took hold of me.

  “You know, Ma.” I took the bag out of her hand and put it back. “Just forget it.”

  She looked up at me, stunned by my response.

  Thankfully I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and I began gathering Dante’s things.

  “Why are you being like that, Peace? I said you could have the money, didn’t I? Now stop being silly and get my purse,” she said as Barbara appeared in the doorway carrying Dante.

  “Mummy! Mummy!” he shouted when he saw me.

  Wiggling out of Barbara’s arms, he ran toward me and threw himself at my legs whilst I could only look down in surprise at his head which had been shaved clean of the cornrows I had plaited for him.

  “What did you do to his hair, Barbara?” I asked and picked him up.

  “I took him to the barbers,” she replied nonchalantly.

  “How could you cut his hair without asking me first?”

  “He needed a haircut. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “You didn’t think I’d mind?” I spat. “More like you didn’t care if I minded.”

  “Peace, calm down. This is nothing to get upset about,” my mother said as I felt tears rise to the surface.

  “You…you two...” I began, struggling against the frustration that was choking the words that were trying to find their way through. “You two need to understand that I’m his mum and when I ask you not to do something, you need to respect me and listen and stop undermining me. Just now,” I continued turning to my mother who was staring at me in bewilderment. “You told me to learn to budget my money. Do you even know how hard things are for me? There’s no money to budget every week. You don’t know how much I’ve got to sacrifice just to…”

  The frustration finally triumphed and my words trailed off. I looked at Dante who had started crying from the tension in the room and I immediately felt guilty.

  “All right, I’m sorry about his hair,” Barbara spoke into the silence that followed. “If I knew you were going to make this much of a fuss about it I wouldn’t—”

  “Come on, Dante. Let’s go.”

  I walked out of the room, dragging his buggy with me and slammed the door shut on my way out. Once outside, I tried to soothe his cries as I hastily put his coat on and strapped him into the buggy.

  The front door opened and Barbara appeared just as I was about to leave. Her mouth was pursed defiantly, but she was finding it hard to meet my gaze which told me she was feeling guilty.

  “Peace.”

  I ignored her and began to push the buggy away from the door, but she grabbed hold of one of the handles and I had to stop and face her.

  “We’re sorry, okay? Here, take this.” She thrust a roll of money at me.

  “It’s okay, I don’t need it,” I said and pulled the buggy out of her grasp.

  “Peace, I said I was sorry so stop being silly and take it.”

  I glanced down at Dante who was still crying. There was no room in my life for pride so long as he was in it. I took the money.

  “We’re sorry, Peace. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I get paid on Friday so I can—”

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said turning back to the front door. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As I walked away I wondered if I would always have to live with the shame of being so heavily dependent on them.

  On the way home I decided to stop off at a mini supermarket, thankful that Dante had stopped crying by that time and was falling asleep. I was also thankful that I had managed to get my frazzled emotions under control.

  As I hurried around the supermarket, I began to notice with dismay that I had the attention of the security guard. Although this was something that had been happening for as long as I could remember, it was something that I couldn’t get used to. Being young and black always meant that I had a silent, watchful companion with me whenever I entered a shop and I felt anger and also a deep despair at the fact that I didn’t even have the luxury of doing my shopping in peace like all the other patrons of the store. What made it worse was that other shoppers had noticed my companion following
me around and had assumed he had a reason for watching me.

  Already feeling broken down by the stress of the day, I decided not to bother looking for the other items I needed to buy.

  As I waited in the queue, I felt as if life was pushing down on me, making it difficult for me to come up for air, even for one moment.

  I paid for my goods and left the store.

  As I sat waiting at the bus stop I watched Dante peacefully sleeping in his buggy, oblivious to the struggles and ugliness of the world around him and as bad as I felt, I couldn’t help smiling as I watched him.

  It was amazing that simply looking at his beautiful face could make all the trials and hardships I faced worthwhile.

  Chapter 16

  Jason was proving difficult to put out of my mind.

  He had called again the day after I slept with him and I had sat and stared down at my phone in misery, torn between wanting to hear the sound of his voice and the knowledge that pursuing this hopeless affair would only lead to broken dreams.

  Even after the phone had fallen silent, I had spent the next few hours fighting the urge to call him back until a hit of heroin had numbed my anxious mind and taken all thought of Jason to a faraway place.

  I hadn’t received any more phone calls since then, but I found that every time the phone rang, I leapt toward it and always felt a crushing disappointment every time I answered and it wasn’t Jason’s voice on the other end of the line.

  It was now a week later at eight p.m. and I was alone in my silent flat. Eva had left for work a while beforehand and, not wanting to be alone with thoughts about what could never be, I called my dealer, Mikey. I was annoyed when it went straight to his voicemail and I began flicking angrily through the other names in my phonebook, looking for someone else who would be able to supply what I needed.

  When I came across Jason’s name, my hand grew still. I thought about the feel of his hand gently cupping my face and the tenderness in his eyes that day.

  Without giving myself time to think, I pressed the dial key and held my breath as the dull monotonous ringing tone began. I listened to it for a few more rings, contemplating whether or not I should hang up when it was interrupted by a rush of noise and then the sound of his voice.

  “Hello?”

  I paused, before quickly releasing the air I had locked in my chest.

  “Jason, it’s Peace.”

  A short pause was filled by a gaggle of noise, the low muted thud of music, a male voice and a woman’s laughter in the background before he spoke again.

  “Y’all right?”

  I imagined the blankness in his tone was probably the same as his expression and was thankful I was spared from seeing it.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Um...you sound busy, is now a good—”

  “No, it ain’t.”

  “Oh...um... Okay. Should I bell you later?”

  “All right,” he said and then the line went dead. I sat with the phone pressed to my ear and felt my face grow warm.

  He obviously didn’t want anything to do with me and who could blame him. I felt a strange sort of relief amidst the disappointment. Maybe it would be easier to forget him now.

  I eventually let the phone fall away from my ear and dialled Mikey’s number again. I left a message this time and let the phone drop onto the sofa.

  Getting to my feet, I started to pace the room, my frustration making it feel like a tiny cage I had been locked inside. The pacing was interrupted by the sound of the phone a few minutes later. I lunged at it, expecting to see Mikey’s name lighting up the screen, but was surprised and pleased to find that it was Jason’s.

  “Jason?”

  “What’s up?” He still had a cool note in his voice. “Why did you call?”

  “Um...I...” I looked down at my bare feet, watching my toes curl and uncurl. “Um...I...I suppose I just wanted to talk to you.”

  I could almost hear the desperation in my voice leaking into the phone.

  “Jason?”

  “About what?” The coolness was gone, replaced by a slight edge in his tone. Now it was my turn to hesitate.

  “Anything.” I gripped the phone tighter, scared of what I was about to say next. “C-can you come over so we can talk?”

  “No.” The edge in his voice had deepened and he was starting to sound annoyed.

  “Jason, I don’t want to talk over the phone.” After a moment, I added: “Are you pissed off with me? If you are, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t call you back—”

  “Peace, I’m out with my friends. I gotta go.”

  “Oh. Okay. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll probably be busy.”

  “Okay,” I said again and accepted defeat.

  “Bye,” he said and the line went dead. I stared forlornly at the mobile before I tried calling Mikey again.

  I called him about five times during the following hour. I also paced the room, flicked the television on and off distractedly and wondered where the hell he was when I needed him. I was getting ready to call him for the sixth time when the doorbell rang.

  I ran to the door, thinking that maybe Mikey had seen all my missed calls and decided to make his way to my flat and pulled the front door open without even looking through the spy hole first.

  “Jason,” I said in a whisper.

  He was dressed in jeans, a white shirt which had the first few buttons left undone to reveal a silver chain with a cross against honey gold skin.

  I couldn’t stop the big goofy smile that hijacked my face as I stood and stared at him. He didn’t return my smile but his expression softened as he looked at me as if he hadn’t seen me in years.

  I let him into the flat and he walked in slowly with a resigned expression, looking like a prisoner who had been handed the death sentence. As I closed the door behind him I wondered if he felt as caught as I did, and whether he was finding it as hard to free himself from me as I was finding it to be free from him.

  “Why didn’t you say you were coming round?”

  “I weren’t planning on coming round. I just found myself outside your house.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered.

  A small smile appeared on his lips.

  I was then aware of how dishevelled I probably looked and was trying to smooth back my hair when he caught my hands and pulled me to him, wrapping me in his strong arms.

  I exhaled and rested my head against his solid chest, drinking in the smell of his aftershave, his warmth and strength whilst his hands reached up to my hair and released it from its prison. His fingers were in my hair, then on my face before they were replaced by his lips on my forehead, eyes, cheeks and nose.

  His lips eventually found mine and I clung fiercely to him and knew I never wanted to let him go.

  ***

  But of course I knew I couldn’t hold onto him forever. So when he fell asleep, I reluctantly peeled away the arm that was lying across his bare chest and slipped out of bed, pulling on my dressing gown as I crept out of the room. The whole flat was wreathed in darkness but I didn’t bother to put on any lights as I stole as quietly as possible into the living room.

  I was scared. Scared of the effect Jason had on me and the fact that I was beginning to want him to be a permanent fixture in my world. That made me angry at myself for daring to imagine or want more than I knew was possible for me, especially since my body had already started singing and was calling me, reminding me of the world I lived in, a world that wouldn’t suffer unrealistic dreams.

  The sound of my mobile phone interrupted my thoughts and Mikey’s name lit up the screen, lighting up the dark room in an eerie blue glow. I snatched it up, wanting the clumsy, intrusive sound to be silenced before it woke up my sleeping guest. Throughout the brief conversation, my heart thumped against my chest and even though I was whispering, I was fearful that the sound was being carried into the bedroom where Jason lay sleep
ing.

  Twenty minutes later, the phone began to vibrate wildly in my hot sweaty hand and the room was once more lit up by a blue glow. The phone fell lifeless again a few seconds later. I crept to the door in my dressing gown and slippers, carefully slipped the door open, and with one last look at the bedroom door, I crept outside.

  Wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the cold, I shuffled over to the tall figure clad in dark clothes and a motorcycle helmet. He was leaning against the wall by the stairs and I saw the gold tooth at the side of his mouth glint in the glow cast by the communal lights as a slow, easy smile spread across his face.

  “I’m feelin’ your afro,” he remarked, gesturing to my big, bushy hair.

  I laughed nervously and stole a look back at my front door before I turned back to Mikey. He was a big man with a soft voice and slow, measured way of speaking. He was always friendly and jovial but beneath the gentle giant demeanour, I sensed an underlying menace that made me feel like a mouse inching its way past a sleeping cat whenever I was around him.

  “Y’all right?” I placed the money in a hand that was twice the size of mine and looked back at the front door whilst he counted it. “Cheers,” I said when he placed the package in my hand.

  “See you soon,” he said with a smile before he disappeared down the stairs, leaving me to shuffle back to my front door.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the bedroom door was still closed and stepped carefully into the flat, clutching my precious package in my right fist as I turned to close the door shut as noiselessly as I could.

  Unexpectedly, the hallway was washed in light and I froze.

  I spun around to see Jason, naked apart from his boxer shorts, standing at the bedroom door.

  “Jason,” I said shakily and clutched my package tighter. “You scared me.”

  “What were you doing outside?”

  His face was set in his armour and he was watching my every move carefully. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my dressing gown, clutching the small package in my fist so hard that I could feel my fingernails digging into the soft flesh of my palm.