Release Candidate

by Aziz, M.

  Something on her end started clanking.

  ‘I’ll only call again! I beg you.’ he added.

  Her breath returned loud. ‘Dehvahl!’ she screamed. ‘They come for you, you pay!’

  ‘Mum, I’m shitting myself here! This is not the monster that stole your best friend from you. I’m shaking off that hangover.’

  ‘You want make party?’ she pierced.

  ‘Losing one person is a right gut fuck, two is... Well, you have a choice.’

  She mock laughed. ‘Who I to you?’

  Tomás popped a tear. ‘I’ve not a clue if the cops are still interested in my behind, but if you still have some ounce of warmth for me and are prepared to give me a clean sheet we could go get lost some place. I’m chained to this bloody country with no photo ID but if they get it in their heads I’m lost in a watery grave, a new town might as well be a different planet.’

  ‘You head is finish!’

  ‘Their divers still down there?’

  ‘They not just go for small swim.’

  ‘Mum, did they tell you there’s no chance in hell I could’ve come through in that crash?’

  ‘I prayed they right!’

  He rubbed his chin. ‘Mum, they ask, your phone never rang. All I need’s to not get caught by piggy eyes.’

  ‘H-who?... Oh... Why you no fear I set you trap?’

  ‘My heart says you wouldn’t grass. You can’t be so heartless. You’d take a bullet for your own flesh and...’ he trailed off.

  She paused. ‘Well. It seem you brain there.’

  Tomás scratched his neck. ‘She there?’

  ‘All this make her mouth no open now. Turn her statue.’

  He thumbed a tear. ‘Ma, as long as I can avoid getting bashed over the head with a truncheon I won’t let her go to waste.’

  ‘And what of man who give life to you?’ she shouted.

  ‘Mum, you might as well blab outside with the level you’re at! I’m not some fucking magician who can click his fingers and turn the clock back.’

  ‘But some fucking magician click his fingers on you, and look!’ she wailed.

  ‘Estela!’ he shouted. Then hushed. ‘Let me move away from the past now. Just tell me if it’s in you to look past the actions of this definitely dead shell I’m in? If the answer’s not a big fat no we need to do more than just talk through plastic to put a cap on this.’

  Estela bawled for an eternity-seeming minute then sniffed. ‘You know place?’

  ‘Pancras. Stuff a handbag and pick us some place pricey from the ticket machines.’

  ‘Hello-o! What of Marilyn?’

  ‘Ah, always some fucking thorn. Jim, no, Haroon’s babysat before, ain’t he? Yeah! Feed him some crap about you needing to mourn somewhere alone. He ain’t no bud if he can’t do some shit for my folks, right? Once the heat levels off he can be relieved of his duty.’

  ‘You just handing over like some food, yes? You no guess your friend state for this? Not fair giving bullsheet!’

  ‘You’re talking like he’s your second son. One inkling and the guy’s gonna be no better than a pig. I’m just cashing in my IOUs then closing my account.’

  ‘And I thinking just sound from you mouth change.’

  ‘When you’re allowed to dodge your coffin you sure as hell don’t want to then take up residence in a small barred room for fun. Now, is this conversation going to continue off the line or have I no family?’

  ‘Name time?’ she said quickly.

  ‘Seven. If we’re not eye to eye within an hour from that wait by your phone in the morning.’

  ‘How I feel this not trick?’

  ‘You feel the ache like when I hurt myself at school? Or are you happy about losing both the guys in your life?’

  ‘You talk more like empty brain than two person.’

  ‘Hey, all or nothing.’

  ‘Seven.’ she hung up.

  Tomás replaced the receiver.

  Scatterings of people had suddenly populated his location. Bending his knees so his head was level with the door handle he peered around smudges on the booth glass. Upon feeling the coast clear he calmly exited. With his head down he walked up the street.

  A beggar sat beside a fast food restaurant door in a crumpled, grey blanket. Tomás sat before the man’s unlabelled biscuit tin containing a few pound coins amongst the pennies.

  ‘Wha’eva you go’ss swee’.’ said the beggar in a herbal drawl.

  ‘You let me take a few of those big pieces and I’ll hand you something that gets much much more of them.’

  ‘Lis’nin’.’

  Tomás looked sideways then leant forward. He pulled the gun from his trousers. It disappeared into the beggar’s baggy sleeve.

  ‘You’ll find you’re ready to roll with that.’

  The beggar looked Tomás in the eye. He hand-weighed the weapon before handing over a pair of of two pound coins in a grimy palm.

  ‘Wai’ a min’te... You a plain clothe?’ he cocked his head.

  ‘Yeah, we’re doing a reverse amnesty. I bet your fucking brain power got you landed here, right?’ he got up.

  ‘Well, your pressie migh’ ‘elp me geh off ih.’

  Down the end of the street a hollow red circle hugged by a blue stripe shone like a beacon. Tomás walked towards it, keeping his head down.

  Travel cards beeped incessantly on ticket barriers. The help desk was covered by a black blind. A sole Tube assistant manned a broken barrier.

  Tomás queued at one of the self-service machines. In front of him a grey-haired, backpacker couple toggled between select and cancel options on the touch screen. Tomás cleared his throat loudly several times. The red-faced couple moved away, appearing unsuccessful at crediting their opaque cards.

  Stepping forward, Tomás hurriedly tapped at the screen. Upon seeing the fare, which his money narrowly covered, he inserted the coins one by one. The last returned undigested in the ticket tray. Reinserting gave the same outcome. After slotting it with force the screen changed. A ripping sound preceded a ticket dispensing with clanking silver pieces.

  He swiped through a barrier, glanced at large platform maps then hurried down an escalator.

  He was alone on the platform. The clear orange on brown display indicated an imminent train.

  The train glided in with an operatic note; faces of commuters at carriage doors sped past. One contained two black helmets. Tomás moved towards the train’s rear.

  ‘Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.’

  Tomás jumped in. Despite seats being free he chose to stand, holding onto a bar.

  For a few elongated moments the train whined like a low-powered vacuum cleaner. Then the doors thundered shut. Tomás jolted as the platform pulled away from view. Both helmets bobbed towards the exit.

  As the train rocked, Tomás looked around the carriage. Everyone seemed to recoil from him.

  The train entered darkness. Purple and red cabling snaked along the window black.

  He looked up at the Tube map. Three stops then one change. At each stop Tomás peered out at either side of the platform.

  Upon reaching his stop he ascended some stairs then descended another.

  On a new train he decided to sit for the single stop. He rested the back of his head against a window. Vibrations bore into his skull.

  As the doors opened he leapt out and followed railway symbols.

  Visible a floor down through glass walls, resting orange-coloured high-speed trains buzzed with electricity. Commuter footsteps echoed loudly on the shiny beige floor. Reverberating tannoy announcements evaporated to the vast dinosaur-skeletal ceiling.

  He froze at the far sight of officers stood in front of a railing.

  Tomás backtracked behind a newsagent’s wall. While looking either side he carefully unwound his head bandage then discarded the browned material in a nearby bin.

  Inside the newsagent’s he purchased a newspaper with his remaining change. He opened
it wide, held it high and walked out.

  Moving around the other side of the shop he resumed onward, matching the increasing pace of home-bound suits.

  A drug-capsule-shaped glass lift dropped him metres from manned booths and self-service machines.

  His eyes darted in all directions as he weaved between commuters. Looking behind, he observed, towering above, a large clock face. Ten minutes to go.

  Arched, Romanesque ticket booth pillars to his right attracted his vision. Taking his place behind one he watched as a steady queue approached staff. A slack blue rope between metal posts reigned them in. Monitors flashed train information. A ceiling camera fidgeted left and right. Tomás fully immersed himself in his pillar’s shadow.

  To his left a large screen displayed the news. A blonde anchorwoman was barely audible. Her face disappeared during sports clips. Then a man stood in front of a video map, emphasising, with great hand movements, grey skies ready to engulf London later that evening.

  Following some commercials the headlines scrolled. Tomás’s jaw dropped at the rolling ticker tape.

  “FOLLOWING RELEASE OF SEVERAL INDIVIDUALS IN DRIVE-BY SHOOTING POLICE START GROUND SEARCH FOR THAMES RIVER CRASH SUSPECT”

  Tomás shivered. He ran a finger across his scalp’s slightly moist scab.

  Peering around the pillar he surveyed the scene before darting at corners like a pinball, studying any woman resembling his mother. The clock was a minute from seven.

  He spotted Estela standing beside a toilet entrance. Her eyes were bagged. She wore a black top and trousers with a lilac handbag. He checked if she made eye contact elsewhere before approaching.

  On engaging her he lowered the newspaper and jogged up. She moved back a few paces. Tomás looked left and right.

  ‘We no stand here, go wheelchair room.’

  He nodded and followed, raising his folded newspaper beside his head. Estela bolted the door behind them.

  ‘Setting me up can’t even pass your mind!’ he hugged her tight.

  Estela stood still. Tomás withdrew.

  ‘You not coming would’ve really fucked up my day!’ he laugh-cried.

  She momentarily covered her face then squinted at his wounds.

  ‘Never mind that, Mum. Tickets?’

  ‘Seven thirty, Newcastle. Is no fancy seat.’

  Tomás gave a thumbs up. ‘So what story d’you get Haroon to choke on?’

  ‘Not just satisfy I in front of you? Speak, why I not put you, animal, back in cage? You break this neck too? Put hand!’ she grabbed his wrist.

  ‘Quit saying ugly things! This mind came from your womb.

  ‘As soon as I caught on Dad wasn’t waking up I felt like jumping in front of a truck. But then fucking scaredy-cat me gets a bug buzzing around his head. What if atheists are full of shit? Or the Buddhists are on to something? Am I not standing on this spot? What pops up if I hit my delete key? Stick a dog’s head on a horse’s body and that’s just some new shit entirely, ain’t it? Answers on a postcard, please!’

  ‘There is special type clinic, you know? No pain.’

  ‘You think I give a shit about going on a comfy bed? And mothers don’t suggest things like that!’

  ‘Mothers not let other people kill they children. Your eye is show me once get off train you no continue act good, like this.’

  ‘Who’d look all la-di-da when there’s folks ready to beat you to the floor? Yes, I’m not all yet sound and these hands have done things I can never let happen again, but I won’t let me slip!’

  ‘And Marilyn? You say you come for later. You feel she think same you?’

  Tomás breathed deep. He shut his eyes for a few seconds.

  ‘Don’t rub it in.’ he huffed. ‘I know she wishes this reboot of me was just a fucking dream. I can’t win in or out of a wooden box. My ears burned when you told me how she fell apart, you know? If the worst comes to the worst, though, she can easily be put back on the shelf for some other lucky fuck.’

  ‘You not go try get head fix?’

  ‘Not until I stop getting shouted at to put my hands behind my head. Remember you’re walking with a ghost. Anyone in white overalls is just a man holding a big cleaver for me right now.’

  Estela rubbed a tear across her cheek.

  ‘Then no point just stand.’ she sighed. ‘In heart I feel if no follow you, your father no rest.’

  ‘May the big guy up there strike me if you’re wrong!’ he gripped her hands. ‘Now I’m just praying no one kicks that door down.’

  Estela looked behind at the spotless toilet seat surrounded by a frame. She pulled down its lid and sat on it with the handbag on her lap.

  ‘You must’ve caught from TV I tried to turn me into watery ashes. But a cat in a bag can have nine fucking lives, right?’

  ‘It come to my head, saying goodbye this England, take Marilyn. My sister has big house. We no put off buy flight too long.’

  His pupils sparkled. ‘Now we’re on the same wavelength! Passport shit ain’t going to be a barrel of fun but, you know, put some green in a grabbing hand and I’m home free. No more blue lights at my back going waa-waa! Auntie’s not laid eyes on me since I was knee-high, and you know little butterflies can turn into caterpillars.’

  The door throbbed. After a few handle turns it stopped. Tomás touched his chest.

  ‘So where you have cover your behind?’ she asked.

  ‘Let’s just say I wasn’t hanging out with a bunch of peace activists. That’s maybe enough slagging of them.’

  Estela unzipped her bag. Tomás watched her examined its contents. She pulled out a soft drink bottle and a bar of chocolate.

  ‘This yuck not for my body.’

  Tomás took them. ‘Wow. My fuckin’ tongue forgot about this shit after they banged me up.’

  ‘Say again?’ she got up.

  ‘Uh. Look, d-don’t be picky about some words coming out wrong, please.’

  Estela sat and dipped into her bag again. She popped a mint in her mouth and momentarily refrained from sucking it. Squeezing her handbag tight she studied the floor.

  Tomás ripped the chocolate wrapper.

  ‘You been fill that stomach? My eyes not tell if you number on scales is up, down.’

  ‘Well, birdseed can keep your legs moving.’

  ‘Now I with you, what clever plan if law see me you together?’

  ‘I’ll be damned if I put you where Dad is.’ he said with a full mouth. ‘You’ll just watch me legging it. Maybe you should hand me my golden pass now?’

  ‘Tomás, is barcode on phone. Hassle turn on now.’

  ‘Had to not be straightforward, didn’t you?’ he sighed. ‘Don’t mind, I’m just itchy. I hope to God we’re not still in this nest by the time the wasps get bored of sniffing other flowers. Anyway, tell me, why aren’t we hitting any other town or city?’

  ‘Your uncle. Stupid man who once carry drug on plane, but never let down his blood.’

  ‘That worthy of a bet?’

  For the remainder of their time in the toilet only one further outside unlock attempt was made.

  Five minutes before their train Tomás opened the door. He glanced outside then pulled Estela out.

  ‘Looks like I just might avoid getting some holes punched in me. Ladies before gents.’ he got behind her.

  He held her shoulder tight as they walked. His breath quickened as he turned his head left and right.

  ‘See. I not trick.’ she gestured towards a waiting train.

  ‘Yeah, my eyes work. Now don’t kill your walking speed.’

  They reached the platform and were about to enter a carriage.

  ‘Gabino!’ shouted a familiar voice from afar.

  Turning around they saw Officer Harrison holding a gun. Behind her were a pair of male backup. Other commuters froze.

  Estela stepped back behind Tomás.

  ‘Mum?’ he faced her.

  ‘Give no choice.’ she shook her head. ‘No fit for life.’
r />   ‘Python woman.’ he muttered. He turned towards Officer Harrison.

  ‘You’re wanting to take the woman behind me, right?’ he grinned plastically.

  ‘Hands on the carriage.’ she walked forward.

  Tomás complied. ‘Officer, you must be having problems recognising people.’

  ‘No more lip!’ she pulled out a pair of black cuffs with her free hand.

  Tomás swooped her with a hard right. She fell, still holding the gun but dropping the cuffs. Her nose oozed.

  ‘This make worse, Tomás!’ screamed Estela.

  Tomás bent down and pulled Officer Harrison’s fingers until the gun unclasped. The male backup ran forward. He lifted her and wrapped an arm across her shoulders. The gun pressed against her temple.

  A crowd gathered. Sensing movement behind him Tomás turned sideways and fired at a suited man. He missed. The man retreated, bowling the assembled crowd’s arc inward.

  On replanting the gun at Officer Harrison the male backup paused.

  ‘You realise the consequence of using that, don’t you, sir?’ asked one.

  She wrestled his grip. He held tighter.

  ‘Push this domino a little further and you’ll all fall down. You think I’m scum but you’re mistaken!’

  ‘You’re hurting the ones you love, again!’ shouted another familiar female voice from behind.

  He shifted sideways with his hostage.

  Marilyn ran up beside Estela with a pale-looking Haroon.

  ‘Bravo, Ma! One hell of a production!’

  ‘Tomás, game is over.’

  ‘You’re in la-la land!’ he shouted. ‘Hey people, we’re not makin’ a fucking movie here.’ addressing the mass he shot at the ceiling. The crowd’s front layer dispersed. He returned to face the backup.

  ‘You just can’t see that this is a dead end, can you?’ said Marilyn.

  ‘That voice is making my head hurt!’

  ‘You’re the one living in a fantasy land if you think they don’t know your whole story.’ she continued. ‘If you could stop acting like a hard nut this doesn’t have to end bad.’

  ‘Come on, dude. You tellin’ me you got yourself sorted just to get taken out by cops?’

  ‘You really think I can be sweetened up again, huh? You know all I’m fit’s for is a lethal needle.’

  Estela quietly unzipped her bag. She gripped a handle inside it.