The Garbage King

by Elizabeth Laird

  ‘That’s not his real name, Buffalo, is it?’ Mamo asked Getachew quietly.

  ‘It’s what we call him.’

  ‘He doesn’t like me.’

  Getachew shrugged.

  ‘That’s just Buffalo. He doesn’t like strangers. He’s all right. Got a bit of a temper, that’s all. He and Million have been together for years, since they were really small.’

  They had crossed the main road now and were heading downhill towards a busy crossroads. Mamo was feeling more and more scared. What would it mean, being in a gang? What would he have to do?

  There was a policeman at the crossroads, standing on the corner, his starched khaki uniform easy to see from a good way away. The three boys in front instinctively bunched together, and Mamo sensed a greater wariness in Getachew, walking beside him. Mamo’s first instinct had been to run, as he had done yesterday, but being with the others was making him feel braver.

  That would be the best thing about being in a gang, he thought. I wouldn’t feel so scared all the time.

  They passed the policeman, keeping their eyes turned away from him. A little further on, the pavement broadened out. There were a couple of elderly women here with a few vegetables displayed for sale on squares of sacking in front of them – handfuls of chilli peppers and onions, and neatly arranged pyramids of potatoes.

  Some way behind them, a boy was sitting on an old rubber tyre, his back against the wall. He was wearing a flowered shirt and blue trousers. A stick that looked at first glance like a cigarette stuck out of his mouth, and one of his front teeth was chipped.

  He put his hands in his pockets and thrust his legs out in front of him when he saw the others approach. They squatted down in a ring around him.

  ‘This is Mamo, Million,’ Getachew said. ‘The boy I told you about. He’s OK. A really good friend of mine.’

  Million leaned his head back against the wall and looked sideways down at Mamo. His face was lean and sharp.

  Mamo looked at him once, quickly, then dropped his eyes, but he had seen the calculating look in the joviro’s face, and his pulse beat faster.

  ‘Where did you come from?’

  Million’s voice was surprisingly high and light.

  ‘I’m from Addis. But I was was taken away to the country. Sold. I ran away, and came back here.’

  ‘You a thief?’

  The question, coldly asked, stung Mamo, and he lifted his head.

  ‘No! I don’t want to be, either.’

  Million rolled the stick round to the other side of his mouth.

  ‘We’re not thieves in this gang. Anyone wants to steal, they’re not with us.’

  Mamo nodded.

  ‘You steal, we beat you. You come with us, you do what I tell you. What have you got?’

  ‘Got? Nothing,’ said Mamo.

  ‘What’s that in there, then?’ said Million, pointing at the bulge in Mamo’s shirt, just above the waistband of his trousers.

  Mamo reached in his hand and pulled out Suri. The puppy had been asleep. She yawned, showing a pink tongue and two rows of sharp little teeth. The others leaned forward, and even Million sat up to look.

  ‘She’s my dog,’ Mamo said, resisting the urge to cradle Suri away from their curiosity. ‘She’s called Suri.’

  ‘Is she a guard dog?’ Million said.

  The smallest of the boys laughed, then was taken by a coughing fit that shook his small body.

  ‘She couldn’t be, not yet, Million,’ he said. ‘She’s too little.’

  Million put a finger out to touch Suri’s rough coat.

  ‘When she’s bigger she’ll have to work for all of us. Guard our blankets during the day.’

  It took a minute for his meaning to reach Mamo, then he looked up at Million, a wide grin on his face.

  ‘Does that mean you’ll have me, then?’ he said.

  Million’s face had been softened by a smile as he’d watched Suri squirming around in Mamo’s hands, but he made himself look severe again.

  ‘We’ll see. You can stay with us for a day or two. Then we’ll decide. You’ll have to obey our rules. No thieving. No fighting. Sharing everything. What you beg or earn or find you bring to me. It’s for everyone. Where I decide to go, you agree. Where I say we sleep, you sleep. OK?’

  Mamo nodded. He felt almost breathless with relief.

  ‘The police might try to get me,’ he said reluctantly, afraid his confession would make Million change his mind. ‘They might be after me because I ran away.’

  ‘Where did you run from?’

  ‘I don’t know where it was. Hours and hours away from Addis on the bus. But the man who sold me, he lives here. He might see me.’

  He had to stop himself looking over his shoulder.

  Million considered, and Mamo felt a kind of lightness in his head, almost making his neck feel longer. It was as if he’d been carrying a heavy load around with him and someone was lifting it off. He had a leader now. Someone to respect. He wouldn’t have to make all the decisions any more.

  At last, Million shook his head.

  ‘No danger,’ he said. ‘Too far away. And this man who sold you. Was he your relative?’

  ‘He said he was my uncle, but he wasn’t.’

  ‘Then he hasn’t got any power. He can’t touch you again.’

  He put his hands out as if he wanted to take Suri, but the puppy bared her teeth.

  ‘It’s good to have a dog,’ Million said. ‘She’ll bark if anyone disturbs us in the night.’

  Suddenly, Mamo remembered Dani. He bit his lip, undecided. What did he owe that rich kid, after all? They’d only met last night, a few hours ago. Dani was a different sort of creature, from a different world. He didn’t need Mamo, not really. Any time he wanted to, he could go right back home, eat as much food as he liked and sleep in a safe warm bed, even if it did mean getting a beating from his pa.

  He was surprised to hear himself saying, ‘Million, I’ve got this friend.’

  Million was watching while the little boy teased Suri with his forefinger, waggling it in front of her nose then drawing back from her snapping teeth. He looked up and frowned at Mamo.

  ‘Who? What friend?’

  ‘He’s a rich kid,’ Mamo said awkwardly. ‘I met him last night. We slept in the cemetery.’

  Million raised his eyebrows.

  ‘The cemetery?’

  ‘Yes. It was because we were both so scared.’ Mamo wished he hadn’t mentioned the cemetery. It had made a bad impression on all of them. ‘This boy, he’s run away from home because he’s frightened of his father.’

  Million was shaking his head.

  ‘No rich kids. They’re bad news. The police go out looking for them. Think we want to draw attention to ourselves?’

  ‘He’s got a bag of stuff,’ Mamo said, feeling like a traitor. ‘He’d share it out. He offered to give me things, if I helped him. He’s got twenty birr, too.’

  The third boy, who had said nothing so far, shifted his feet in the dust.

  ‘What sort of stuff?’

  ‘Clothes,’ said Mamo. ‘New ones. Really, really nice. And other things, I think. I don’t know.’

  ‘Sounds lovely,’ the little boy with the cough said wistfully. ‘Is he nice?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mamo, hesitantly. ‘Yes, he is nice.’

  ‘See him, Million,’ grunted Buffalo. ‘Let’s check him out.’

  The third boy was nodding eagerly.

  ‘We know what he wants,’ Getachew said, smiling round at the group, trying to raise a laugh. ‘This sad guy’s always on the lookout for shoes,’ he said to Mamo. ‘Got hungry feet, or something. We even call him Shoes. It’s his nickname. He hunts through rubbish all the time, looking for old shoes. He’s got a total thing about them.’

  ‘I haven’t got a thing about them,’ Shoes said indignantly. ‘I look for everything.’

  But the others were laughing, as if it was a favourite old joke.

  Mamo was watchi
ng Million.

  ‘All right,’ Million said at last. ‘Bring him here.’

  Mamo hesitated.

  ‘He won’t come. He’s scared of the cops. He won’t leave the cemetery.’

  ‘We’re not going in there,’ the little boy said with a shudder.

  ‘You heard Karate,’ Million said. ‘If your friend wants us to see him, he’s got to come to us.’

  Mamo stood up.

  ‘OK. I’ll go and tell him then. Shall I bring him back to you now? Will you still be here?’

  ‘We might be,’ Million said casually. ‘It depends.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mamo shifted from one foot to the other.

  ‘Then where?’

  ‘If we go, we’ll come back,’ Million said. He swept his arm out to indicate the broad pavement, the road in front and the crossroads just beyond. ‘This is our place. We’ll be back here tonight, anyway.’ Suddenly, he turned on the others. ‘What are you all waiting for? Think the birds are going to drop your food down from the sky? Shoes and Buffalo, go round to the New Flower restaurant. Ask at the back for scraps. Getachew and you, Karate, go and beg at the traffic lights, and don’t forget what I told you. Old cars give more than new ones, and old people more than young ones.’

  The worst thing, Dani thought, worse even than the prospect of going hungry for the rest of the day, was having nothing to do. He had never known time to pass so slowly.

  At this moment, he thought, at school everyone will be going into maths.

  He could almost feel the draught on the back of his neck from the crack in the window frame under which he usually sat, and hear the teacher’s grating voice.

  I bet Makonnen finished all the homework he gave us last week, and gets top marks for it, he thought.

  Remembering the smug look on Makonnen’s face, and the contemptuous expression in his eyes whenever he’d looked at him, Dani felt a little better. He’d almost started missing school.

  They won’t be wondering where I am yet, he told himself. They’ll just think I’m off sick or something. But they’ll miss me soon. Everyone’ll know soon that I’ve run away.

  Normally he’d have let his mind spin off into a satisfying daydream at this point, but somehow he couldn’t just now. He was too uncomfortable. His hands were sticky, and he felt sweaty and dirty all over. He was longing for a shower.

  I could change into clean clothes, I suppose, he thought, mentally reviewing the contents of his bag.

  But the effort seemed too great.

  I’ll be even dirtier by tomorrow. I’ll save changing till then.

  He had scooped up another handful of small stones and had been idly playing with them, aiming them at the trunk of a tree some way away. After a while he could hit it three times out of four. Bored, he gave up.

  Every few minutes he looked at his watch. He couldn’t believe how slowly the hands crawled round its flat white face. He took it off and held it up to his ear, convinced it was broken, but the ticking was as steady as ever.

  I can’t stay here for ever, he thought. Even if Mamo comes back and helps me get food. Even if the caretaker goes on being nice to me and gives me water. I’d go crazy. I really would.

  Thoughts of home kept trying to edge into his mind. He pushed them away. The mixture of fear and longing they conjured up was too awful to bear. He wouldn’t think of Mamma, either.

  She’d be ashamed if she could see me now, he muttered to himself.

  A swamp of despair seemed to be sucking him down. It made him feel heavy all over. He didn’t want to think any more. He tried to empty his mind and sat dully for a long time, slumped against a tomb.

  Hunger eventually spurred him to sit up. It was hours since the handful of injera he’d shared with Mamo at breakfast time. Now the pangs were getting worse and worse. He’d never felt real hunger before yesterday. It was as if there was something inside him, something independent, calling out to be satisfied.

  He took a last swig out of the water bottle, draining it, then stood up. He wouldn’t go outside into the road, but there’d be no harm in going back to the gap in the wall and looking through it. He’d be able to see if Mamo was coming back. He might even have a brainwave about what to do next.

  He picked up his bag and walked down between the tombs to the trees near the wall, then dropped his bag cautiously and approached the gap. He could hear voices coming from the row of small mud houses on the far side of the road. Women were calling out to each other and a baby was crying.

  He peered out, looking cautiously up and down the road. Whatever the caretaker had said, he didn’t fancy the idea of seeing the mad Lost Prince again. He settled himself on a stone behind the lowest part of the broken wall. He could easily duck down out of sight if anyone came by.

  A loud squawking noise in a tree overhead made him look up. A pair of big black birds was quarrelling noisily. One of them suddenly swooped down to the road, snatching at the body of a dead mouse, which had been stiffening beside the tarmac. The other flung itself down from the tree too, and they began to tussle over the little grey body, threatening each other with furious flaps of their wings.

  Dani watched them, half envious. Birds were free and independent. They could do what they felt like, find their food anywhere, fly freely in the sky. They didn’t have to depend on each other, get depressed and lonely, worry about the future and hang around waiting for other birds to come and help them out.

  He was so absorbed in the fight he didn’t hear footsteps approaching and only the sound of loose stones rattling under Mamo’s feet as he picked his way across the fallen rubble of the wall made him look up.

  He felt a flush of relief and pleasure.

  ‘Have you brought anything to eat?’ he burst out before he could stop himself.

  A quick frown twitched Mamo’s forehead, making Dani feel anxious. He’d made a mistake again.

  ‘Million says he’ll see you,’ Mamo said grandly.

  ‘Who’s Million?’

  ‘My joviro.’

  ‘Your joviro? What’s that?’

  ‘The leader of my gang. He’s trying me out. If they like me, I’ll be one of them. After a day or two, he says.’

  ‘A gang? What do you mean, a gang?’

  Dani shivered, suddenly scared. He’d seen loads of gangster movies on TV. Gangs were run by criminals, he knew that much. They were really hard and had running battles with the police in old buildings. The gangsters usually ended up dead.

  Mamo didn’t know how to answer. He stared at Dani, perplexed. It was hopeless talking to this rich kid. He didn’t seem to know anything about anything. It was like being with a baby or something. The most ordinary things were strange to him. Even Suri, whose warm body he could feel wriggling around inside his shirt, seemed to have more of a clue.

  ‘They’re boys, like us,’ Mamo said at last. ‘Got nowhere to go. They stick together. Million’s the joviro. He tells them what to do.’

  Dani could picture Million already, a sinister figure in a sharp suit with wads of money in his pockets and a gun in his holster.

  ‘Sends them out to steal you mean?’

  ‘No!’ Mamo was exasperated. ‘It’s not like that. No stealing. He says anyone who steals gets punished and thrown out.’

  ‘Oh.’ Dani’s mental picture fractured and disappeared. ‘What does he make them do, then?’

  Mamo hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Dani that Million had sent the others off to beg.

  ‘How should I know?’ he said at last. ‘I’ve only just joined. I told him about you, about how we were together. He said to tell you to come and see him.’

  ‘What, leave here and go outside, you mean?’ said Dani, looking back over his shoulder into the cemetery, which suddenly looked like a safe haven.

  ‘Yes. They won’t come here. They’re scared. They wouldn’t believe we were hanging out here. That we slept here all night even.’

  He felt proud as he said it, and catching Dani’s eye he smiled. Dani s
miled back. The cemetery and the feelings that made them unafraid of it, their strange meeting in the dark by the tomb, and the night under the shared blanket was a bond that neither of them could put into words.

  Mamo turned back to look out at the road.

  ‘Well, are you coming or aren’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Dani. ‘What if the police see me?’

  ‘Look.’ Mamo felt impatient. ‘Are you going to stay in here for ever? Grow up here? Get old? Die? You’ve got to go out sooner or later. I can’t go on bringing you food any more, anyway.’

  Dani’s heart plummeted. He hadn’t realized how totally he’d been relying on Mamo. He thought of how he’d bribed him last time with the promise of the shirt, and put his hand out towards his bag again.

  Mamo was following his own train of thought.

  ‘Once you’re in a gang,’ he said, explaining carefully as if Dani was a small child, ‘you do things just for the others. You share everything with them.’ It was his turn now to look down at the bag. ‘Everything you have, belongs to the whole group. You can’t sneak off and take stuff to some guy who isn’t in the gang.’

  ‘Oh,’ Dani said in a small voice.

  Now that he’d cleared the gangster idea out of his head, he was beginning to see the kind of gang Mamo was talking about. He’d watched them often on street corners, from behind the safe glass windows of a car. They were the raggle taggle groups of street children, barefoot, dirty and bold, who clustered round the cars at traffic lights, thrusting claw-like hands in through the windows, begging in sing-song voices.

  I couldn’t! I never could be one of them! he thought, panic clutching his stomach. I’m not like them. I never would be. Anyway, they’d take my bag and everything in it. I wouldn’t have anything at all then.

  Mamo suddenly pushed past him and ran up into the cemetery. He ducked down behind the tomb where they’d spent the night and bobbed up again holding his blanket.

  ‘Here,’ he said, bounding back to Dani. ‘Give me your baseball cap and wrap this blanket round your head and shoulders. You’ll be safe walking round the streets then. No one will recognize you.’

  ‘No, I don’t – I can’t . . .’ protested Dani feebly, wanting to snatch back his cap, which Mamo was already arranging at a jaunty angle on his own dusty head.