When I was far enough away, when the marines were merely dim shapes in the distance, I turned and continued up the street.
At the next side-street I turned left, then right at the next, then left again. Then I ducked into a dark doorway of some two-story building. I pocketed the gun and hid there a while. I heard lots of feet pattering along the nearby streets, but whether they were marines or Gendarmerie looking for me, I couldn’t say. For all I knew, the two marines I had pointed the gun at had simply turned, headed to the nearest hotel and drank themselves silly.
Sometime later, I left the doorway, walked a little way up the narrow street and when I came to another, turned right.
Soon I found myself at another, wider road and I could see the port before me, tall palm trees swaying against a gray sky. The ocean was a dark expanse of black glass.
I could see all types of boats in the harbor; from small fishing boats to large freighters. I knew I had to find a large freighter that was taking a cargo of coffee or sugar to America. And once I found that, hopefully I could bribe my way on and stow away to lands unknown.
I still needed to be careful. The area around the port looked just as busy as the main road, and judging by the color of the sky, I didn’t have long before dawn arrived and this busy port would get even busier.
So, with the money in my pocket and the gun for backup, I started across the road, heading for the...”
Once again they were interrupted. Only this time, instead of the phone, it was someone knocking at Mr. Joseph’s front door.
“I wonder who that could be,” Mr. Joseph said.
Toby glanced down at his watch. It was almost five-thirty. “Oh no,” he gasped. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Is there a problem?” Mr. Joseph asked as he got to his feet.
“Well...”
The knocking came again—not hard, but firm.
Mr. Joseph eyed Toby as he left the kitchen.
“Shit,” Toby breathed, positive it was his mom knocking. He was tempted to sneak out the kitchen door—but he knew there was no point hiding from his mom. She’d catch up with him sooner or later.
So he followed Mr. Joseph.
He reached the front door just as Mr. Joseph eased it open. Toby heard his mom say, “Mr. Joseph, is Toby here?”
“Yes,” Toby said, stepping up to the open door.
His mom stared at Toby. “Get home,” she said.
“Mom...” Toby began.
“Home,” she said. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Fairchild, I don’t quite understand...”
“I thought you would have better sense. Allowing a child into your house is one thing, but blatantly disobeying a parent is another.”
“Mom...” Toby pleaded. “It’s not Mr. Joseph’s...”
“Has there been some misunderstanding?” Mr. Joseph said.
“I specifically told Toby he was not to come around and see you,” Toby’s mom said. “But I see he has disobeyed me. And I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Joseph, for allowing this to happen.”
“Well I am sorry. But I thought we agreed yesterday...?”
“We agreed on nothing,” his mom said. “You told me your opinion on the matter, I politely listened, but we never agreed on anything. It was my decision to make, and I made it.”
“Mom, stop it,” Toby said. “This is my fault, okay? Not Mr. Joseph’s. I told him you said it was okay, that it was my decision. I heard you and Mr. Joseph yesterday. Well, you never asked me what I thought about all this, just told me what to do like you always do. Well I’m sick of it, I’m sick of everyone telling me what to do all the time.”
“You eavesdropped on our conversation?”
“Yeah, so?” Toby said.
“Toby, I’m very disappointed in you.”
“The feeling’s mutual”
“Toby!”
“Toby, I think you’d best go on home and discuss this with your mother.”
“Why?” Toby said, looking up at Mr. Joseph. “She won’t listen. Nobody listens, nobody except you. But I’m not allowed to see you. Damn it, it’s not fair!”
“Toby!” his mom said. Then, to Mr. Joseph, “I’m sorry he lied to you, and I’m sorry for accusing you...”
“Oh, shut up,” Toby barked. “You couldn’t care less about Mr. Joseph’s feelings, or mine.”
His mom stood staring at Toby, eyes wide, mouth agape.
“Toby, that’s no way to speak to your mother.”
“Yes, you just wait till your father...”
“Screw him, and screw you. Screw everyone!” Toby pushed past Mr. Joseph, past his mom, rushed down the porch steps, across the lawn and stalked off down the street, his mom’s cries washing over him like the tears flowing down his face.
Why can’t everyone just leave me alone? Just let me live my life? I’m not hurting anyone, Mr. Joseph’s not hurting anyone. Jesus how did things get so screwed up?
He walked blindly, unsure of where he was going, not wanting to face home, his parents and their accusations and disappointed stares. The way he was feeling at the moment he never wanted to go home again, he just wanted to leave Belford and wander around the country, like Mr. Joseph, moving from town to town whenever he grew tired of the place or the people.
I need to speak to Gloria, that’s what I need to do.
He changed direction and soon he arrived at Gloria’s, hoping that her mom would allow him to talk to Gloria, even if just for ten minutes.
At the front door, he rang the doorbell and waited. He brushed tears from his eyes, took some deep breaths.
Please, Gloria answer the door. God please let Gloria...
The door opened and Deb stood there, tight halter straining to contain her breasts, jeans fitting snugly around her curvaceous body. “Well, looky who it is,” she said, gum-smacking mouth curving into a grin. “What the hell do you want, there’s no creepy old men here to give you candy... or dead chickens.” She cackled.
“I just want to speak with Gloria,” Toby said.
“Gloria? Gee, I’m sorry, but I thought my parents banned your sorry ass from seeing her. Something about you being too pathetic for their little princess.”
Toby snapped. “Fuck you, you slut. This is all your fault! You were the one who spread the gossip about me and Mr. Joseph. If you had kept your dick-sucking mouth shut, I wouldn’t be in this mess!
“You little shit,” Deb cried. “How dare you talk to me like that. If Dwayne were here, he’d beat your skinny ass to a pulp.” She reached into her mouth, took out her gum and threw it at Toby.
The grape-flavored piece of gum smacked Toby on the cheek, leaving a wet spot.
“Get the fuck outta here, you weird chicken-fucking geek. Go on, get!”
“What’s all this yelling...?” The moment Rudy Mayfour laid eyes on Toby, his face grew hard, his chest puffed out and he grew about two inches taller. “Toby, is there something I can...?”
“He called me a slut,” Deb said, pouting like the actress she was.
Rudy glared at Toby. “You what?”
“Look, all I want is to speak to Gloria, just for a moment. Please, it’s important.”
“You called my daughter a slut?” Rudy, nostrils flaring, looked ready to tear the door apart.
“Rudy, what’s going on?” Helen appeared at the door. “Oh, Toby. Look, if you’re here to see Gloria, she’s not in.”
“Bullshit, she isn’t,” he said, and then, right on cue, he heard Gloria call down, “Mom, Dad, what’s going on?”
“Get out of here you little shit,” Rudy said. “I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, got me?”
Toby couldn’t help himself. “You don’t have to worry, Mr. Mayfour; I wouldn’t touch Deb with a fifty-foot pole.”
“Why you...”
“Rudy, no,” Helen said, grabbing her husband by the arm.
Toby took off, not wanting to find out whether Helen’s grip was as str
ong as Rudy’s temper.
Though he desperately wanted to see Gloria, he knew there was no way on God’s green hell that was going to happen now—not tonight, not next week; he’d probably blown any chance of seeing Gloria again until she was old enough to leave home, in about four years.
Fuck! he screamed in his head. Why is this happening to me?
He jogged for about five minutes, until his legs started hurting and his lungs and ribs started aching. He stopped, convinced Rudy wasn’t following, baseball bat in hand, and sat on the curb, gasping for air. Then he put his head between his legs and cried good and hard.
Once he had spilled all his frustrations, anger, and embarrassment of the last few days, he wiped his puffy eyes and got to his feet.
He took some deep breaths and wondered, Where to now?
He still couldn’t face home, and he didn’t fancy wandering around town for hours.
Go back and apologize to the Mayfours? Maybe they would let me see Gloria if I explained to them...
Who am I kidding? Rudy’s probably already put a bounty on my head. Forget them, I’ve got nothing to be sorry about.
And then Toby had a thought—what if he went and talked to Frankie? There was nothing stopping him. He might feel silly talking to a hunk of rock and earth, but isn’t that why people buried their loved ones and erected headstones, so they had somewhere to go and talk to them if they needed to?
Toby started off for the cemetery.
By the time he reached Belford Cemetery, a mild breeze had sprung up.
He made his way through the maze of headstones, finally arriving at Frankie’s grave. He sat beside it, hugging his knees to his chest.
“Hey Frankie,” he said. “Me again. Yeah, I’ve been crying. Yeah, I know, I’m a big pansy. But fuck it, I don’t care anymore.” He stopped, feeling strange talking to himself. Luckily the cemetery seemed to be empty. Still, when he talked, it was barely louder than a whisper.
“I didn’t get to talk to you properly before, Gloria being with me and all. But I need to talk to you now. A lot has happened since I was last here—some things you wouldn’t believe. Man, where to begin? Okay, well, I guess the biggest thing is that I found out something incredible about Mr. Joseph. Yeah, I know what you thought about him, and you would’ve had a field day with this, but here it goes—Mr. Joseph is a zombi. Yep, the real-deal, the living dead. Now, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like in the movies. It’s kinda complex, but basically, he’s what’s known as a zombi savane, that means he was turned into a zombi, but sort of brought out of it, kinda like he was brought out of a trance. He’s still dead and all, but he can talk and think and feel. You see it has to do with vodou and Haiti and working on a slave plantation—like I said, it’s very complex. He’s been telling me about how he came to be a zombi, what it was like to actually be one, when he worked as a slave, what it was like to awaken—all kinds of stuff you wouldn’t believe. I hardly believe it myself. I mean, can you imagine if anyone in this town ever found out the truth about him? I only found out by accident, and, well, I was close to telling either the police or my parents, but in the end I decided not to. He did save my life and all. I can guess what you’re thinking, but I’m not crazy. He’s not some flesh-eating monster, that’s all bull. He’s perfectly harmless. Still, I almost went bug-fuck crazy trying to decide what to do about it. I’m glad I didn’t tell anyone, though.”
He paused, taking some much-needed breaths.
“But anyway, that’s not what I came here to tell you; well, not really. Everything’s gone screwy; ever since you... well, ever since that night, nothing has felt right. I think you dying unbalanced the world or something. Things were going good between me and Gloria, we’ve kissed and... well, I’m not telling you everything. Some things a guy’s gotta keep to himself, you know? But then her stupid sister overhears me telling Gloria about me befriending Mr. Joseph, and she spreads it all over town. And so now everyone’s laughing at me, prank-calling me, and they’re doing the same to Mr. Joseph. But that’s not the worst of it. Because of all that, my parents think it’s best I don’t see Mr. Joseph. Even Gloria’s parents have stopped us from seeing each other. That sucks the biggest. I mean, I’m not doing anything wrong, yet I’ve been told I’m not allowed to see Gloria or Mr. Joseph. Life sucks, but then you already know that.”
Toby lay down on the ground, gazing up at Taylor’s Hill in the distance.
“I don’t know what to do,” he continued. “You’re gone, my parents don’t listen, and the only two people left I can talk to have been taken away from me. I don’t have any friends left, not really. Shit, Frankie, I feel so alone.”
Afterwards, he lay with his eyes closed, until sometime later a voice broke the silence.
“Toby.”
Toby gasped, sat up. He turned and gazed up at Suzie. Wearing creased tracksuit pants and an old, faded T-shirt, she looked haggard; still her face retained some of the old Suzie, some of the kindness he knew and loved so well.
“Your mom called, she was worried about you,” Suzie said. “I told her I thought you’d be here. I guess I was right.”
Toby turned back and faced Frankie’s headstone.
A shadow passed over him, and then Suzie sat on the ground beside him. “It’s peaceful here, isn’t it? I often come here, sit and talk to Franklin. I feel closest to him here.”
Toby chewed on his bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry.
“Your mom told me what happened.”
“Yeah, I bet she did,” Toby muttered.
“I’m not here to argue, or to pass judgment. I’m just here to see if you’re okay.”
Toby lost the battle. Tears fell from his eyes.
“And to say sorry. I know I haven’t been the best company of late, I know what I said hurt you, and the way I acted... well, you shouldn’t have to see that.”
Toby swiped tears from his cheeks.
“I hardly know what day it is, I never see Leah anymore, God knows what she’s getting into.” Suzie sighed. “But I haven’t come here to tell you all of my problems...”
“Didn’t stop you before,” Toby said, managing a weak smile.
Suzie chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose it did. Still, I want us to be friends again. I’ll try and get better, stop the drinking, if you promise not to be too angry at your mom. Deal?”
Toby turned to Suzie. “You’re a sly one, you know that?”
Suzie grinned. “Think Frankie would’ve been proud?”
“I’m sure.”
“So, deal?”
Toby sighed heavily. “Okay, deal.”
“Your mom just loves and cares about you, that’s all. We all know how overprotective she can be. She doesn’t mean any harm.”
“You agree with her about Mr. Joseph?”
“Honestly? No. And I told her as much. I know you’re a tough kid—sensitive, but tough. And I also know you’re smart. I’m pretty sure you know what you’re doing most of the time.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Suzie reached over and patted him on the arm.
“I just wish my mom would see it that way. She thinks I’m just some dumb little kid who can’t think for himself.”
“You have to understand. Mothers are programmed to think that way. I’m sure Einstein’s mom thought her son needed help tying his own shoelaces, and I’m sure Bruce Lee’s mother gave him an extra bag of lunch, just in case the bullies took one of them.”
Toby shook his head. “You’re nuts, you know that?”
“And proud of it. You have to understand, I can see how incredibly brilliant and mature and handsome and tough you are—your mom only sees how handsome you are, and that’s it. In her mind, you’ll always be five years old.”
“That’s silly.”
“It’s the law. I can’t change the law.”
“But how can I convince her that stopping me from seeing Mr. Joseph won’t help things? I like spending time with him. I know it’s goin
g to be hard, but so what? If Mr. Joseph can deal with all the teasing and pranks, so can I.”
“I’ll have another talk with your mom, see if I can’t break the law, just this once.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks. Now can you please convince Gloria’s mom to let us see each other, too?”
“Eh, I’m afraid you’re on your own on that one. Rudy scares even me.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
“Why, what happened?” Suzie said.
“Well, I kinda pissed Rudy off earlier. And Helen and Deb.”
Suzie looked at Toby with a sly grin. “What did you do, Tobes?”
“I called Deb a slut, and told Rudy I wouldn’t touch her with a fifty-foot pole.”
Suzie laughed, and it sent birds scattering from the trees, into the air. “Holy shit, Tobes, I would’ve loved to have seen Rudy’s face when you said that.” She slapped him on the back. “I’m proud of you. But don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“I kinda felt bad afterwards. I was mostly angry at my mom, but still, they wouldn’t even let me see Gloria for five minutes.”
“Sounds like they got what they deserved. I love Gloria, I think she’s the sweetest kid, but as for the rest of the Mayfour clan...”
“Yeah, sometimes I think that maybe Gloria’s adopted.”
Suzie reached over and took a hold of Toby’s hand. “So, friends again?”
Toby liked the feel of Suzie’s touch; it felt... familiar. “Yeah, friends”
“Good. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to get hungry. What say you come back to my place and I cook us some Spaghetti Bolognese?”
Toby hesitated.
“I promise I won’t drink. And I’ve got plenty of Coke stacked in the fridge.”
Toby nodded. “You said the magic word.”
Suzie smiled and, letting go of Toby’s hand, got to her feet. “You can call your mom from my place, let her know you’re staying for dinner.”
Toby made a face as he got to his feet.
The Awakening Page 41