The Garbage King

by Elizabeth Laird

  Putting his spare hand over the mouth of the bottle to stop the water splashing out, he bounded joyfully back to Dani, thrilled with his own cleverness.

  The food had cheered Dani for a moment, but the minute Mamo had gone off to look for water, his spirits had plunged again. How could he have let himself get into this terrible situation? He was completely dependent on Mamo, for food and water and everything. If Mamo deserted him he’d either have to go back outside and get picked up by the police or stay, a prisoner, right here in this cemetery until he starved to death.

  The puppy whined and tried to nuzzle Dani’s hand. He pulled it away.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I told you, I haven’t got anything for you.’

  Mamo came back at last, the full bottle in his hand. He looked capable and pleased with himself. After the first surge of relief, Dani felt more useless than ever.

  ‘Where did you find it?’ he asked, looking at the bottle but not daring, after his mistake with the food, to ask for a drink.

  ‘The old guy up the gate,’ Mamo said, squatting down beside the puppy. ‘He’s got a barrel behind his hut. He was asleep. I was really scared but I sneaked round behind him. I’m sure he didn’t see me.’

  Dani didn’t notice the little hesitation in his voice. He was licking his lips and thinking of the water.

  ‘Pour some into my hands,’ Mamo said, cupping them under the puppy’s nose.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘For her. The puppy. Can’t you see she’s dying of thirst?’

  Dani wanted to say, ‘So am I,’ but he poured a little water into Mamo’s palms. The puppy sniffed at the water, then began to lap, drinking more and more eagerly, then licking round Mamo’s fingers to retrieve every drop of moisture.

  Mamo laughed delightedly.

  ‘Good dog. Clever Suri,’ he said.

  ‘Suri?’

  Mamo looked at him apologetically.

  ‘I thought it would be a nice name for her. Sorry, she’s your dog, isn’t she? You found her. You’d probably like to call her something else.’

  The puppy was snuffling round Mamo’s hands, wagging her tail.

  ‘She’s not my dog.’ Dani’s voice was cracking with thirst. ‘You can have her if you like. She likes you best, anyway.’

  Even the dog knows Mamo’s more use than me, he thought gloomily.

  As if in thanks, Mamo handed him the bottle. Almost reverently, Dani lifted it to his lips. The cool water seemed to bless his mouth. It was the best drink he’d ever had.

  He realized almost too late that he was drinking too much, and made himself stop. He held the bottle out in front of him and looked at it. He’d drunk a little more than half.

  ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, handing it back to Mamo. ‘Where’s the guy’s hut? I’ll go and get some more.’

  ‘No. he’ll see you.

  ‘I’d be careful, like you were,’ Dani said defensively.

  Mamo looked at him, and Dani, thinking he saw contempt in his eyes, flushed.

  Mamo turned his attention back to the puppy. He picked her up and turned her over in the palm of his hand, looking at Suri’s soft tummy. The hairs here were sparse and paler, almost white, and the pink skin showed through. Mamo tickled the soft flesh and the puppy squirmed and yapped.

  A strange feeling was invading Mamo. The softness and warmth of the puppy in his hands seemed to be creeping up his arms, making him feel soft too. He’d never felt like that before.

  ‘Hey, Suri,’ he said, turning the little dog over again and holding her up to his face. ‘You’re my dog, OK? I’m going to look after you.’

  Suri wriggled and tried to reach out with her tongue to lick Mamo’s cheek. Mamo laughed delightedly.

  ‘You’re coming with me,’ he said, standing up. ‘We’ll go and see Getachew together.’

  Dani had been staring down at the ground but now his head shot up again.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To see a friend. He got us the food.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’ll see you later, maybe.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know. Tonight, perhaps. Are you going to sleep here again?’

  ‘I suppose so. Where else?’

  ‘See you, then. Come on, little one.’

  Dani’s mind was scrabbling round frantically, trying to think of a reason to keep Mamo back.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ he called out, when Mamo had already gone a few paces. ‘I could give you a shirt. One of my shirts. I’ve got three in my bag. It’s got a pocket. You could put Suri in it. Easier than carrying her in your hands all the time.’

  Mamo hesitated. The shirt tempted him, but it would tie him to Dani, like the ten birr had done. He wanted to feel free. But Dani had already unzipped his bag, and now he was rooting around in it. He was pulling out a beautiful yellow shirt with white buttons and a neat little breast pocket. It was the most magnificent garment Mamo had ever seen close up. He looked at it, looked away, and looked back at it again.

  ‘Go on,’ said Dani. ‘I mean, you got us that food and the water and everything. If you need something else, maybe I could give it to you. Tomorrow.’

  He was bribing Mamo shamelessly, and his voice wavered with embarrassment. Mamo looked up from his rapt contemplation of the shirt. The expression in Dani’s eyes reminded him of something, and it took a moment before he realized that Suri had looked like that, dependent, helpless, pleading. He felt a faint echo of the soft feeling he’d had when he’d held Suri in his hands, and he smiled.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ll come back. I really will. I’ll leave my blanket over there where we slept and you can look after it for me. And I’ll get some more food for us this evening. I’ve got to go and see Getachew, though. He’s with a load of other boys. He knows where to get food and stuff. He can really help us. Might even get us in with them.’

  The word ‘us’ chimed in Dani’s head like a bell. He smiled, comforted, and held the shirt out again.

  ‘Go on, take it. Please.’

  Mamo put Suri gently down on the ground, took the shirt gingerly and held it up against himself. He twisted his head and craned his neck, trying to see how it looked. Then he lowered it and smoothed the thick satiny cotton between his grimy calloused fingers.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ he said, trying to find the right words. He handed it back to Mamo. ‘Keep it for me. I can’t wear it out there. It would look like I’d stolen it or something. The pocket’s much too small for Suri, and anyway, she might tear it. But I’ll put it on tonight, when it’s just us. Look, I’ll see you later, OK?’

  He scooped up Suri, and was gone.

  10

  Dani’s mood, which had swung up and down all morning, settled now into a state of gnawing anxiety. His watch told him that it was only ten o’clock. He couldn’t believe it was so early. He couldn’t believe, either, that this time yesterday he’d still been at home, had only just waved goodbye to Mamma, and was bundling his things up ready to bolt. He seemed to have been gone for a lifetime, an eternity.

  He stood up and began to walk about, his legs as restless as his mind. Giorgis had been a bad idea. He couldn’t have gone there. But surely there was someone else he could think of, some kind adult, or a child even, from his own world, who would take him in and hide him, keep Father at bay anyway, until Mamma came home?

  He’d gone through everyone he knew already, over and over again, but now he tried again. No one from school, nor from the family, nor any of his parents’ friends could be trusted. They’d all go straight to Father. But what about the nice doorman at the Hilton? He’d known him ever since he was a baby. Or the vegetable seller on the street corner, near home, where he’d often gone to buy bananas and things for Zeni? He sighed. He was being stupid. Why would people like that risk getting into trouble for him?

  He sat down again. There was no point in thinking. He might as well just sit and wait for Mamo to come back.

  An ant crawled
up his leg, then another and another. He was sitting near a whole column of them. He shifted himself a few metres away. It was totally quiet in this cemetery. There’d be nothing to do all day, and now he didn’t even have the puppy to play with. Perhaps, if he was lucky, there’d be a funeral later that he could watch. At least it would give him something to do.

  He realized he was still hungry, and thirsty again too. He had to get hold of more water. He couldn’t be expected to sit around in this hot place all day with nothing at all to drink.

  I’ll go and get water myself, from the hut, he thought, excited by the idea of doing something independent. Mamo’s not the only one who can sort himself out. I can be quiet and sneaky too, whatever he thinks.

  Mamo had left the bottle propped up against a grave. Dani picked it up and set off up the hill from where Mamo had come back with the water. It was hotter now. He could feel the sun beating down on his head through the thin cotton of his cap.

  He’d been looking down as he walked, keeping the glare out of his eyes, and when at last he looked up, he saw that the gates were closer than he thought. He stopped and ducked behind a monument. How could he have been so careless? The caretaker could easily have spotted him already.

  His pulse quickening, Dani peeped out from behind the stained marble. No one seemed to be around. He waited for a moment, then tiptoed forward. He could see now that the padlock was hanging loose off the gates, which were slightly ajar. The caretaker must have gone outside. This was his moment, then. All he had to do was make a quick dash to the hut, find the barrel, fill his bottle and run away.

  He was gathering himself to dart out from his shelter when a strong hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder. Dani yelped in terror, and his head shot round. An old man was standing right beside him, glowering at him from under a heavily scarred forehead. One eye was filmed with blindness but the other was unblinking and fierce.

  ‘Who are you?’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’ Dani was trying to wriggle free. ‘I was coming to ask if you’d give me some water. I – my aunt – her tomb’s over there.’

  He waved his hand towards the far side of the cemetery.

  ‘Where’s your friend?’

  ‘What friend?’

  ‘The one who was sleeping beside you last night. Curled up, the two of you were, like a couple of stray dogs. I saw you when I did my rounds.’

  Dani felt a small glimmer of hope. Why hadn’t the caretaker kicked them awake and sent them packing? Perhaps he’d turn out to be friendly, after all.

  ‘Is he coming back, that other boy?’

  Dani tried to read the man’s expression, to find the right answer.

  ‘I don’t know. Yes, I think so.’

  The caretaker’s eyes dropped to the bottle in Dani’s hand.

  ‘What did you do with the first bottleful he took?’

  ‘I – we drank it. We were thirsty.’

  ‘And I suppose you’ve come back for more.’

  ‘Well . . .’

  ‘Think this is a hotel, do you? Free bed and water?’ But his voice was grumbling rather than angry.

  The word ‘free’ triggered a response in Dani. He felt in his pocket.

  ‘I’ve got some money. I can pay you for the water if you like.’

  ‘You’ve got money to pay for a drink of water? Where did you get it? Are you a thief?’

  ‘No!’ He managed to wriggle free at last, and stepped back. The man was looking him up and down, examining his clothes.

  ‘All that new stuff you’re wearing, where did you get it from?’

  Dani’s face was hot.

  ‘Mamma – my mother bought them. I’m not a thief.’ The hope he’d started to feel was turning to panic. He might be arrested by the police! They might send him to prison!

  ‘If you’re not a thief, what are you then?’

  The old man was leaning forward to look at him more closely. It was hard to read the expression in his one good eye.

  ‘Just a boy. My mother’s sick. She’s gone to England. My father – I didn’t pass . . .’

  He stammered to a halt.

  The caretaker straightened up, easing his back with one hand.

  ‘Run away, have you? So why did you come in here? There’s not many who choose to sleep among the dead. Scared stiff, they usually are.’

  ‘There was a crazy guy out in the street, following me. I was frightened and I just ran in through the gap down there to get away from him.’

  ‘What crazy guy? Who?’

  ‘He said His Majesty the Emperor had come back.’

  A smile spread over the old man’s face, changing his expression. Dani could see now that his good eye only looked fierce because of the way the scarred skin had puckered round it.

  ‘That was only the Lost Prince, as he calls himself. Thinks he’s the Emperor’s long-forgotten son. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Lost his mind when his truck blew up under him in the Somali campaign. He’s a fine man. Brave as a lion when he has all his wits. He’s as gentle as a lamb. You didn’t need to be scared of him.’

  He put out his hand for the bottle and Dani found himself passing it over.

  ‘Don’t need to scared of me, either. Ran away myself once, when the fighting got too hot. Hiding’s no fun after a while. I won’t know you’re here if you keep out of the way and don’t harm anything.’

  He turned his back on Dani and started walking towards his hut. He limped badly, and Dani could see that one of his legs was crooked, as if it had once been broken and hadn’t been properly set. After a few paces, he turned round.

  ‘Well? Do you want your water or not? I’m not bringing it back to you here, if that’s what you think.’

  ‘Oh yes! Oh thank you!’ Dani said, flooded with gratitude. He caught the old man up. ‘You won’t tell anyone, uncle? You won’t give me away?’

  ‘Don’t know who to tell. You’ll come to your senses after you’ve been here for a night or two, and go home again if you know what’s good for you. Still, you must have your reasons, if you’d rather sleep in a tomb than in your own house. I know myself, which most people don’t, that there’s more to be feared from the living than the dead.’

  They’d reached the barrel now, and the old man, leaning on it to take the weight off his bad leg, held the bottle under the tap.

  ‘A few fills a day you can have, but I’ve no wish for you to run me dry. Go on now, get off with you before the first lot of mourners come and see you here and get me into trouble.’

  Mamo wasn’t surprised when Getachew didn’t come to the church entrance, but he was disappointed. He squatted against a wall nearby and settled down to wait.

  It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to go, or anything else to do. He’d go back to Dani later, of course, and get the ten birr off him to spend on food for them both, if he didn’t manage to find something else in the meantime, but he was glad to be away from Dani for a bit. It was sort of fascinating, being with a rich kid like that (Mamo had had to stop himself craning forward to stare when Dani had unzipped his bag) but unsettling too. Dani was so careless about things, so casually selfish, the way he’d drunk more than half the water, and started in on the food. And why had he run away in the first place? It couldn’t only have been because his ma was sick and his father was threatening to send him away. No one would leave a rich home like his for such pathetic reasons.

  He’s so lucky, he’s got no idea, Mamo thought resentfully.

  And yet there was something he liked about Dani too. Perhaps it was because although he was rich and educated he was quite humble in a way. He hadn’t minded showing Mamo that he needed him.

  He does, he really does need me, Mamo thought, rescuing Suri, who had ventured too near a donkey tethered at the side of the road. The idea pleased him. It made him feel more confident.

  When Getachew comes, he told himself, I’ll see if he can get us into his gang, if it’s a good one. It’d be better than just being on our o
wn.

  He had only a hazy idea about what the gang would be like. Some of the kids he’d known before had tagged along with groups of street boys, but they hadn’t really belonged. They’d all had families, of a sort, to go home to at night. The real gangs, he knew, lived on the streets all the time, sleeping in the same place, sharing out what they’d got and looking out for each other. Some were good and some weren’t.

  Getachew seems OK, Dani thought. He was really pleased to see me. He’ll get us in.

  To pass the time he began to croon quietly to himself. Being able to sing out loud was the only good thing he remembered about the country. Being able to hear music again was one of the best things of being back.

  A couple of hours must have passed before Getachew at last appeared. Mamo saw him when he was still a block away. Three other boys were with him, two about the same size, and one much smaller.

  That’s them, Mamo thought. He’s brought his lot with him.

  Nervously, he got to his feet, tucking Suri out of sight inside his shirt.

  Getachew greeted him quietly, without his usual exuberance, then stepped back to stand with the others.

  ‘Million wants to see you,’ he said.

  ‘Who’s Million?’ asked Mamo.

  ‘Our joviro. The boss.’

  The other three had already turned and were walking away. Getachew and Mamo followed them.

  ‘Did you tell him about me?’ Mamo said. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He wants to see you, that’s all. I said you were OK, a friend, respectful, didn’t go in for fighting. He said he’d meet you. Look you over.’

  Mamo swallowed.

  ‘What does he make you do?’

  ‘Different things. Beg, guard cars, you’ll see. He’s good, Million is. He sorts us out. Makes decisions. That’s why we elected him.’

  ‘What do you mean, elected?’

  ‘What do you think? We chose him. Even Buffalo did.’ He pointed to the thickset shoulders of the biggest of the three boys walking in front. As if he’d heard his name, the boy turned. His face was heavy and unsmiling. He stared at Mamo, then turned round again and walked on.