Daygo's Fury

by John F. O' Sullivan

  “Yeah, I do!” she replied. Liam stared at her. He felt like hitting her. She couldn’t hold his gaze for long. She turned away and sat back up on the wall.

  Racquel looked from one to the other. She seemed as though she was angry at Alison but didn’t want to take sides either. She looked back at Liam sheepishly.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while,” she said.

  “Ya … I … sorry about …” He felt stumped for words as he thought of the last time she had seen him. He didn’t know what she thought of what he had done. He wasn’t sure of what he thought of it himself.

  “Thanks,” Racquel interjected. “For … ye know … stopping him.” Liam looked up to see her eyes on him. She was sincere, he knew. He shrugged. He didn’t even know if that was what he had been doing, he had just gotten so angry. He was glad, however, that she thought kindly of it.

  “Was he mad at you? After?” he asked.

  “No,” she shook her head and started to laugh. “He was too shocked to know what to be. He couldn’t believe it. That some slum … boy just ran in and knocked over all his stock.” Liam noted the pause before ‘boy’ but he didn’t mind. Most people would have just said it. She giggled then. “You should have seen his face!”

  Liam smiled. “I did!” he said. “Almost caught me too, dono what I woulda done if he had.”

  “He hardly said a word the rest of the day.” She smiled at him and there was a moment’s silence. Liam found himself wishing that Alison wasn’t there. He glanced in her direction. She was still moping on top of the well’s wall, staring off into the distance, pretending not to be interested.

  Racquel noticed his look, glancing back as well.

  “You want to call by the bakery tomorrow again?” she asked quietly. “An hour before dusk?”

  “Ya, okay.”

  “I could meet you at the end of the road, beside Fenrow Street?”

  Liam nodded. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll be there.” They stood awkwardly for a moment longer, then Racquel turned and walked back to Alison.

  “See ye later,” she said.

  “Bye.” Liam turned and walked in the other direction, not sure of where he wanted to go.

  ******

  He was hungry every moment of every day. Without Calum, his takings were down and he had no income from working with Carrick or the gang.

  He was considering going to Darren or Cid and offering to team up. But he was strangely discomfited by the idea. Was there such a ready replacement for Calum? He also feared a little about his own freedom. He didn’t want to be tied to the hip with someone else, and he was still reluctant to break his self-imposed isolation.

  Besides this, Cid had his brother, Bradan, to look out for. The two of them normally took to the streets together. That only really left Darren.

  There was another girl he knew, who he and Calum had worked with on a few occasions. She lived two streets down in another family, and was nothing like the two girls that lived with them. She had breasts but Liam often forgot once he spent some time with her. She was more like them. She was tough, but she had seemed fair.

  He resolved to approach one of them soon despite his misgivings.

  Deaglan’s ruling of the group increased as the weeks past. Whether it was dictating what game they played at night or changing the rules to suit him, he slowly, more and more, began to dominate proceedings.

  Before, when Calum was alive, Liam had looked upon Deaglan with distaste. But he had been insignificant. His weak attempts to undermine Calum or usurp him were always too far from any real success for Liam to pay him much mind. He had forever held a lower profile to Calum in everyone’s eyes.

  Now it was as though Liam had inherited Calum’s hate for him and it was slowly beginning to set into stone. He was cruel and sadistic. Sometimes it felt as though it were Liam’s responsibility to put a stop to him. He sometimes entertained thoughts of stabbing him in his sleep and being done with it.

  Calum had been a leader. He had often talked about his ambitions to build a group around him and work their own jobs. Many of the family had been hoping for this. Liam, however, had always been more singular of purpose. He had held a similar ambition but thought about what he could achieve on his own as opposed to what he could build with others, outside of Calum, that was. Deaglan offered the group that hope.

  Over the weeks, Liam met with Racquel almost every day at the same time. Twice each week, he had to put up with the annoying presence of Alison. They would spend an hour together walking through the streets of the slums. Liam was always careful not to be seen by Galo as he waited at the end of the street. He didn’t know what he would do if he found out that Racquel was meeting up with the boy who had knocked over the tray.

  After a couple of days, Liam realised that the gnawing hunger in his stomach and the fist that clenched and squeezed his heart, ever present since Calum’s death, dispersed when he was in Racquel’s company. With her, he was consumed in the moment, able to leave the worries and pains of his life behind. Without her, they came back, all the more obvious to him but still somehow lessened.

  The rest of his day, outside of her company, became a necessary chore, as though the hour he spent with Racquel was real while the rest was just a harsh and ongoing dream.

  When she asked him about what he did all day, Liam was unsure of what to say, so he told her the truth. She listened with interest, asking how he managed to do things that Liam took for granted. He felt proud as he slipped into telling her of all the routines and moves that he and Calum had performed over the years, how they developed and perfected their plans. He tried to leave out some of the rougher stuff as he filled her in, things that he himself found discomforting. He almost forgot himself as he relived past events with the happy sheen of memory. They laughed together at funny stories and occurrences, lucky escapes and ridiculous performances. It was only as Liam got to talking of them that he realised how many stories he had. A lifetime spent living on the edge in the slums, there was too much of the strange and unlikely to tell.

  It was on one of these days, when he was caught up in blissful memory, that she asked him where Calum was now. He stalled. He had forgotten it all amidst his words and it suddenly all came crashing down once more, like waking from a dream. He stopped short, shocked at how easily and quickly he had forgotten as he had talked to her. He felt suddenly ashamed. How could he forget? After all they had been through, after all Calum had done for him, how could he ever forget?

  They had just entered Badger’s Burrow. Racquel’s expression had changed from curious interest to concern at his reaction. Liam looked about him sadly. Here, like everywhere else, was full of memories. He couldn’t meet her eyes, afraid that the concern there would turn him into a blubbering fool.

  “He’s dead,” he said finally.

  “Oh.” Racquel paused. “I’m sorry.” She took a step closer to him. Liam shook his head sadly and walked across to the edge of a building to sit down. Racquel followed, sitting down beside him. He put his forearms on his upraised knees and picked at his nails between them.

  The small square was quiet. The few stalls were being packed up by their owners for the night. People wandered around in less of a hurry at this time in the evening, as always. Tired, Liam supposed.

  “When did he die?” Racquel asked. Liam dropped his head between his hands for a moment. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about this. He had been avoiding the subject with everyone for four weeks now.

  “About four weeks ago.” He sighed. “Remember the day I knocked over the tray?” He glanced over to her and saw her nod. “It was the afternoon before that.”

  “Oh,” she said again. A brief look of disappointment crossed over her face but was replaced quickly by a little frown. She looked at him again. “How did it happen?”

  Liam sighed. “A blacksmith … A blacksmith hit him across the head with a hammer.” Racquel’s eyebrows rose up in shock. “We were … we were stealing from him.” Liam im
provised, not wanting to tell the whole story.

  Racquel sat quietly beside him, her feet stretched out before her on the ground. She held her hands clasped together in her lap. They stayed like that for a few moments. Liam looked off into the distance, just above the buildings opposite him, at the sky there and the few fluffy white clouds floating across it, where the bare outline of the red moon was visible.

  “There’s a story about Calum I never told you,” he said after a moment. “He had a big, huge scar going down his face. From here to here,” he said, tracing a finger from his temple to his jaw line.

  “It used to hurt him sometimes, in the cold. He wouldn’t really say anythin’, but you could see that it hurt. It would break open and even get pussy.” He glanced across at Racquel, who looked back at him with interest, caring.

  “He got it years ago. We were both starvin’. Well, I was starvin’. He was hungry. It had kindof snuck up on us, ye know. We went through a couple of weeks of poor takings, we hadn’t been eating much, and then we just started to get more tired, started going out and leaving the flat less. After a while, we realised that we were really in trouble. The other lads in the flat weren’t doing well either. One of us … one of my friends, died that year. It took months, it was horrible.” Racquel watched him intensely as he talked.

  “Anyway. No-one had anythin’ to spare. Calum decided that we needed to take a risk, or we were fucked. He had sussed out a place over a few months. It was an easy steal. Real easy, with real good takings. We’d been tempted by it before, but we’d left it cause it had a red flag. Nothin’ was worth messin’ with that. But it was getting to the stage where we had nothin’ to lose.” Liam sighed.

  “I wasn’t … any use. I was too weak. I could barely leave the flat. He had to go on his own. It was a pawn shop, of all things. Where everyone went if they had stolen some jewellery or somethin’ else to get cash for it. Myself and Calum had been there a few times before. That’s how he noticed the place and figured out how easy it would be to steal the takings. He could only go for the cash, he knew, or he’d be found out once he tried to sell the jewellery somewhere else. We’d never taken a place before like that, though. The money he could get from it would last us months.” Liam kept his gaze on the fluffy white cloud making its way over the buildings in the clear blue sky. The beautiful sky.

  “He waited until the shop closed. There was a chute out the back where the pawner used to dump all of his waste through. He did it from behind the counter in the shop, where he kept all of his money. The chute was just wide enough for a boy to climb through. Calum went in from the outside, got the box that he knew the pawner kept hidden away in the corner of the room and left back out the chute again. It was simple and easy. It was the middle of the night and he figured it was safe. He went down to the well and washed his clothes clean, then went back to the flat.

  “We thought he had gotten away with it. Had the money hidden. He’d planned to spend it real slowly so no one would notice. But some little fuck had seen him leave the pawn shop. The gang got wind of it. They came for Calum. They strung him up, did it front of everyone to teach people a lesson. They had long ropes with hooks at the end of them. They threw ’em around the boards of the ceiling. Then they stuck the hooks through the sides of his hands and pulled the ropes tight. Lifted ’im straight up off the ground by his hands.” Liam stopped for a moment, his eyes glazing over in remembrance. It was a scene that was vividly etched into his mind. He would never forget it. The lines of blood trailing down Calum’s forearms, dripping from his elbows. His screaming and yelling and cursing, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He was twelve, against men who were intent on torturing him. Yet he stared every one of them down, didn’t give them an inch.

  “They never hide what they did to people if they caught them stealin’ from the wrong person. Calum was dead, he knew it, we all knew it. All that was left was for the gang to get the money back. But he wouldn’t tell ’em where he had it hidden. He hadn’t even told me. None of us knew.” Liam remembered how one of the enforcers had grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, shouting at him to tell them where the money was. Calum had laughed. “You think he knows?” he had said.

  “They hung him from the ceiling by his hands, beat him up like a boxing bag, drew the blade across his face, burned him with iron pokers that they heated in front of him. They’d even started pulling his fingernails out. But he wouldn’t tell ’em where the money was. He kicked and screamed but wouldn’t say a word. Then Lollan came in. He’s the head of the area. Dono what he was doin’ there or why he came in. Musta heard how a kid had robbed the place. Then musta been impressed by Calum not talkin’ cause he offered Calum a deal. Said he’d leave ’im live if he told ’em where the money was. Lollan’s known for bein’ trustable. It’s how he does business. Calum told ’im he was already dead unless he got the money as well. I remember Lollan laughed at him. You could see that he respected his balls but at the same time he was gettin’ angry. He told ’im he’d give ’im twenty percent of the takings, or he could die right now. Calum agreed.” There was a long moment’s silence as it all came back to him. Liam’s eyes had blurred with tears. He blinked against them and took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked down from the skies at the slums surrounding him. There was no beauty there. He finished his story.

  “The box was hidden underneath the stairs of the flat. There was a hole there that was hidden away. You wouldn’t see it unless you knew it was there.”

  “Lollan kept his word and told Calum to come stop by the tavern if he was lookin’ for some work.”

  “I guess the matis are always on the lookout for new potential. I guess he was surprised that a kid could pull off what he did and that he had the balls to resist afterwards.”

  “He wasn’t right for weeks afterwards. They’d nearly killed him. But we’d got the money, we were able to eat again. It lasted us a few months, and by the time it was all gone, we were both strong again. Calum started to get called for the gang soon after that, spotting and other things. And no one ever messed with him afterwards, either.” Liam left out that this was how he had been introduced to Carrick. “I would have died, only for what he did.”

  Racquel put a hand on his arm. Liam looked at it angrily.

  “All of that, ye know. All that fuckin’ hardship, all that … just to be fuckin’ …” Liam stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He looked away. Then he had to move, he couldn’t sit there any longer. He stood up.

  “I’ll talk to ye tomorrow, okay,” he said to Racquel and walked off.

  ******

  The next day, Liam found himself standing in front of Lana’s. After his conversation with Racquel, he felt again that he had to tell her, if not for her, then for Calum. He couldn’t allow him to just disappear. People should know. His memory deserved that.

  It had rained the night before and the ground was wet. It was still early in the day. The whores would most likely still be asleep, having worked late into the night. But Liam didn’t want to delay it any longer. He had nerve to enter now, to get it over with.

  He knocked on the side door and waited. When there was no answer, he knocked again, and again. Finally, a girl opened the door. She didn’t look much older than Racquel and bore a slight resemblance to her; linking the two made Liam pause, an unwelcome consideration crossing his mind. She wore a black gown tied at the waist with a sash.

  “What?” she asked angrily, looking at him as he stood speechless. She had dark rings underneath her eyes and her black hair was dishevelled, stray strands falling across her face.

  “Is Lana in?” he asked, gathering himself.

  “Lana?” replied the girl, incredulous. “What the fuck would Lana want with you?”

  Liam was caught off guard; he hadn’t considered this reaction. He couldn’t think of what to say. The girl started to close the door in front of him.

  “No,” said Liam, stepping up and laying a hand on the doo
r, stopping her, “just … ahhh, tell her Liam’s here.”

  She looked at him with crossed eyebrows, clearly wishing he would just go on his way.

  “She’s asleep,” she said, putting pressure on the door to close it again.

  “Oh … okay. Tell her when she wakes up. I’ll be out here. She’ll want to see me.” The girl gave him a final, suspicious look as he allowed her to close the door. Liam sat down on the ground to wait. He started to worry as he did so. After a while, he stood up and started pacing, dreading the door opening. He began to think maybe the girl wouldn’t tell Lana at all, that maybe he should just go. The thought struck hold. He could just leave now, no harm done. She wouldn’t know he came to visit. Just go. There’s no point waiting here.

  Just as he was about to leave, the door opened again. This time it was Lana’s face. She had no powder or makeup on this time. Her face was old, worn and wrinkled. Her hair was cut short like a boy’s, more suitable, Liam guessed, for wearing her wigs. She looked worried as she glanced in Liam’s direction. Liam looked back at her, unsure. His mouth began to work but no words came out. Suddenly there were tears in his eyes and he turned away from her.

  “Liam!” Her voice was sharp. “Liam, what is it, where’s Calum?”

  Liam walked away from her, down the alleyway a little. He put his hands on the wall, leaning against it, his head hanging between his arms. Suddenly, he was there again, he could see him moving, he could see him alive and slip and the hammer, the swing, the blacksmith’s eyes, following his own. I did it. I gave him away, If I hadn’t of looked! It was so stupid! Why? Why would I look?

  He turned from the wall again, tears streaming down his face. He paced over and across the alleyway, again and again, frantically moving as if by walking in circles he could escape.

  Lana shook her head. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. “No. What happened? Liam!” she shouted, stepping out from the doorway. She wore soft, cloth slippers. They were getting wet and dirty in the mud of the alley. She wore a light shawl over her shoulders, over a gown similar to the one the girl had worn. Liam continued to pace until she strode over to him and grabbed his shoulders.