The Dirty South Page 8

  ‘Mum!’

  Cara’s sister was babysitting Noel’s younger brother and sisters and that was all good because I didn’t want them to see her like this. I’ve seen her high on high grade and a little tipsy but nothing like this.

  ‘Baby, sorry for swearing at you,’ Cara apologised to Noel, suddenly sounding all motherly. ‘You know I love you, don’t you, baby? Come here and give your mother a kiss. You know I really love you. I’m feeling very emotional right now and you know I hate funerals. Why can’t they just get on with the business of burying people without all the shit that goes on beforehand?’

  ‘I love you too, Mum,’ Noel said, kissing his mother on the forehead. ‘Just remember that the next time you’re thinking of flinging a plate at me.’

  With a family like Noel’s it’s very rare that you see acts of affection but this was one of those moments. Cara was almost strangling Noel as we carried her into the house, pressing her left cheek against his right cheek. We managed to lay her on the sofa in the lounge but instead of trying to sleep off her drunkenness she sat up and started crying. No sound came out, just tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘What’s a matter now, Mum? Can’t you just go to sleep?’

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you, baby.’

  ‘What’s that, Mum?’

  ‘Before I do, baby, go to the kitchen cupboard where I keep my drinks. Gimme a whisky with ginger ale on the side and don’t be stingy, baby.’

  Noel went to do as he was told.

  ‘Pour one for yourself, baby. And one for Dennis.’

  Cara then turned to me. She smiled at me but the eyes remained sad. ‘Dennis, your family has always been good to me. Your mother Carol is a diamond. She or Noel would never say how much she has helped us in the past. That’s because of pride. Yes, I’m a proud bitch, Dennis. Too fucking proud. I didn’t want you to know how desperate we have been, Dennis. And trust me, we’ve had many desperate times. Sometimes your mother helped us when my own family wouldn’t. When you and Noel was little she would come to help me in the early hours of the morning if I called her.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, feeling very uncomfortable. ‘I respect my parents to the max.’

  ‘And so you should,’ said Cara. ‘You know, I don’t know no other black couple living on these sides who have been together for so long.’

  ‘They’ve had their ups and downs,’ I remarked. ‘You know, with Paps’ legs and everything. It hasn’t been easy for them.’

  ‘But they’re still together. You know, Dennis, my family hate the way I have lived. Having children for different daddys and all that. My dad kicked me out when I was seventeen ’cos I was screwing a man in my room. But your dad and mum? They have never looked down at me. Yes, they have cussed me, told me to sort myself out, thrown my drinks in the trash and everything, but never looked down on me.’

  Cara paused as she looked towards the kitchen. ‘You find the whisky, baby? Don’t be mean with it.’

  ‘Just getting the ice out, Mum,’ Noel called out.

  Cara turned back to me. ‘None of my so-called men could ever commit. None of them even wanted to commit. Is it too much to fucking ask? For a black man to commit to his black girl? That’s the story of the black man. Maybe your daddy is the exception to the rule but most black men are dogs. Fucking doghearts! But sometimes I do wonder if your daddy would have stayed around with your mum if his legs weren’t fucked. You know what I mean, Dennis? No offence to you, Dennis, ’cos you’re obviously a black man. But even if I had crippled my men’s legs with a sledgehammer they would have crawled away on their knees when I wasn’t looking, and found some way to fuck another bitch. I should’ve castrated the doghearts when I had the chance.’

  Cara’s fingers were twitching and she couldn’t keep still. She looked in the direction of the kitchen again. ‘Such is my luck with men,’ she went on. ‘No, fuck that. They are not men. They are dogs! Not interested in raising families and only interested in raising their dicks and then they piss all over you and bitch about giving you money to live on.’

  Carrying a tray of drinks, Noel returned to the lounge. He sat beside his mother and Cara caressed the left side of his face. She looked at him sweetly. Then she picked up her drink, downed half of it and then poured ginger ale in it to top it up again… ‘Take a drink, baby.’

  After passing me a glass of whisky and coke, Noel sipped his own drink with his mother watching him intensely. She placed her glass on a small coffee table and took in a big breath. ‘Now, baby,’ she began. ‘I should have told you this a long time ago. There’s no good way of saying this so I’m gonna come right out with it. The worthless, nasty dog and sad excuse for a man you saw buried today was your daddy.’

  For a couple of seconds time seemed to stand still. Cara was waiting for Noel to respond but he just sat there looking vacantly into his whisky and coke.

  ‘He never knew he was your daddy,’ Cara added. ‘I never told him, although if he had the intelligence he would’ve worked it out. But with your daddy, his brains were inside his dick. We saw each other on and off for a few years. If it’s any comfort to you when we first start seeing one another, we was together for eight months. He bought my kitchen table in the January sales years back and he once helped me cut the carpet for the toilet. He even took me out ice skating and bowling a couple of times but your daddy always had his floozies on the side. Most of them were white but they had the good sense not to get pregnant. I could get my head around him having the odd affair with a black girl, but a white girl? No way was he gonna invade my crotches after he dipped his dick in a white pussy. NO FUCKING WAY!’

  ‘Why tell me now?’ Noel finally said, all calm like. ‘Why now?’

  ‘I know I should have told you before, baby. I just couldn’t. What was I gonna say? Hey, baby! There’s your daddy and he sells weed and crack and you’re a big brother to all those little bastards running around his feet.’

  Noel seemed to be taking this all well but then he stood up. He started to breathe hard. ‘I’ll tell you why you told me now. Because it eases your guilt… Feel a bit better do you, Mum? Eased your conscience a little? As for me, Mum, I FEEL LIKE SHIT! YOU FUCKING HO! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A JUNZ!’

  I had to react quick because Noel went to hit her. I leaped upon him and took him to the ground. ‘YOU FUCKING HO! YOU FUCKING HO!’

  The ginger ale was knocked off the coffee table and was spilling on the carpet. A tumbler hit me on the head as I wrestled with Noel. He was much stronger than me and if he wanted to he could have easily beaten me off him to get his revenge. But he allowed me to pin him down. Allowed is the only word for it. Tears were in his eyes and I just gripped my hands around his body, holding on for dear life. Cara grabbed her drink, done a funny walk to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  For two minutes I held him to the ground and I felt the accelerated breathing from his chest. ‘Get your hands off me, bruv.’

  ‘You ain’t gonna do anything stupid?’ I asked.

  ‘No! What do you take me for? You think I would actually lick her? My own mum?’

  I released my grip. Noel picked up the tumbler and ginger ale bottle from the floor, placed them on a table and then took out his Rizla papers. He was calm again. ‘It’s kinda funny,’ he said after a while. ‘I was always scared of asking Mum who my paps was. I always wanted to know. Now I do… In a fucked-up way I even got to know him. If my shit was on Jerry Springer people wouldn’t believe it.’

  He was right. I was finding it hard to believe and I had witnessed it. I took a generous gulp from my whisky and coke. ‘Pass me the Rizlas, bruv, I think I’m gonna join you.’

  Both of us built two big-heads and for some reason smoking it felt better than it had for a long time. It proper relaxed me and although we had never burned in Cara’s house before, I don’t think she would have cussed our behinds if she had walked in.

  ‘It’s true what Mum says about your parents though,’ Noel confirmed. ‘I r
emember once when Mum had to lock herself in her bedroom ’cos her boyfriend at the time was beating her. I was only about six or seven at the time. Anyway, Mum managed to call your mum and ten minutes later I let your mum and paps in as well as your uncle Everton and this guy called Brenton Brown… Mum’s boyfriend was proper shocked but not as shocked as me when Mum came out of the bedroom. Her face was proper banged up. I could hardly recognise her. Blood was all over her face.’

  ‘What happened after that?’ I wanted to know.

  ‘Everton and Brenton dragged this guy out and proper banged him up. He seemed to have heard of this Brenton guy and he was begging for mercy. I’ll never forget that night. They booted him down six flights of stairs and into the forecourt of the estate. People were watching. Someone called the Feds but no-one said shit ’cos he was a known woman beater. Mum always picked the wrong men…’

  ‘Mum told me that she was tight with your mum at school,’ I said. ‘They used to go raves together.’

  ‘They are tighter than you would ever know, bruv. If there is one thing about the old school people, they look out for each other. When I was young I used to see your mum and you around my gates all the time with her friend Sharon. Don’t you remember those days, Dennis? We was about three or four. And sometimes even your auntie Denise would come over. They helped decorate the place. Your mum hasn’t been here for a while now, though.’

  Noel must have had a good memory ’cos I couldn’t remember any of that shit…

  ‘Work,’ I explained. ‘Takes up all her time. Even on weekends… But since my mum started to earn good money she’s gone a little stush…’

  ‘I would never call your mum stush,’ Noel raised his voice. ‘From the chats I have heard from your mum, my mum, Sharon and your auntie Denise, they all lived a grime life, bruv. Trust me, they had it tough. They were all sufferers.’

  When Noel spoke the word chats I leaned forward towards Noel. ‘What else did you hear from these chats?’ I wanted to know. ‘What were they talking about? Anything about my paps?’

  Noel poured himself another drink and took a generous toke from his big-head. He looked at me for two seconds and then tipped his ash into an ashtray. ‘I’m not supposed to talk about that. Mum’s orders.’

  I was about to raise my voice but I checked myself. I didn’t want to wake up Cara. ‘Don’t fuck with me, Noel,’ I said. ‘I’d never keep shit from you.’

  The stain on the carpet caused by the ginger ale was now a magnet to Noel’s eyes… He took another two tokes from his big-head before I heard his voice again. ‘Your paps, Everton, Brenton Brown, they were all serious thugs, bruv. Proper gangsters.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I nodded. ‘I know something about that. Go on.’

  Before he did go on Noel checked to see if his mother was still sparked out upon her bed… He returned with this weird excited expression on his face, as if he was about to say Al Pacino had came to visit. ‘They duppied an old school Brixton don.’

  ‘They what?’

  ‘They merked a proper G. This G was well famous back in the day and he ruled these ends like a proper Al Capone.’

  ‘How did they duppy him?’

  ‘Shot him,’ Noel replied. ‘Right between his eyeballs. Like how Lee Van Cleef shot that ugly man at the start of A Few Dollars More.’

  ‘Who shot him?’

  ‘That’s what I don’t know. It was the night your paps got his legs fucked. On that night, along with your paps there were three of your paps’ brethrens, Brenton Brown, Everton and this white guy called Frank. This big-time G had kidnapped your auntie Denise and made himself her pimp. It was a fucked-up, grimy situation, bruv. Your paps and his brethrens went after him.’

  ‘What!’ was all I could manage. ‘Auntie Denise was a ho? You’re lying! What else you know?’

  ‘I ain’t lying. I wouldn’t make this shit up. But that’s it, bruv. That’s all I know. Never tell your paps or mum that I talked about this. Otherwise my mum would get blanked ’cos she wasn’t supposed to tell me.’

  My mind was spinning with different scenarios. Did Paps kill this badman? Was it uncle Everton? I couldn’t see the white guy Frank killing an old time Brixton don. Frank? That name rings a bell. Could it be the Irishman who was friends with Granny? Anyway, he was probably the look-out. Did it happen on the street? Was there a massive Feds investigation? Did Mum have to put up an alibi? How did Auntie Denise became a ho? Fuck me. Auntie Denise a ho! I had to get to my feet and have another drink.

  Noel went to look in on his mother. I followed him into her bedroom and Cara was fast asleep, snoring loudly. Noel pulled the duvet over her and then bent down to kiss her on the forehead while placing his hands tenderly upon her cheeks. He closed his eyes and tears appeared on his face. He soon wiped them away and then he looked at her once more, his face breaking out into a sad smile. I don’t think I will ever see a sweeter show of love until the day they bury my black ass.

  Noel and I were tighter than a church lady’s crotch after that night. I’m not sure how to explain it but after that night of Jerry Springer shit, beefs and respect, I felt I would do anything for my best bredren, Noel Gordon. I guess there must be something deep, something so sweet between Jamaican mothers and their first-born sons. Maybe it’s because of all the Jamaican sons I know, hardly any of them are close to their dads. I respected Paps to the max but wasn’t close to him the way I was with Mum.

  I reached home just after 3 a.m. in the morning. I was well tired and was gonna go to my bed but there was a light on in the front room. I went to see and found Paps sitting down on the leather sofa draining a drink. It seemed like he had been thinking things through for hours. He was wearing a blue dressing-gown over a Crystal Palace football shirt and pyjama bottoms. He took a sip of his rum and coke and asked, ‘Cara told Noel about his daddy?’

  ‘Yes,’ I nodded.

  ‘How did he take it?’

  ‘All considered, quite well.’

  ‘We’ve been telling Cara for years to tell him,’ said Paps.

  I sat down in an armchair facing Paps. I so much wanted to ask him about the night he and his bredrens killed a man. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would betray Noel’s confidence and Cara’s. ‘Paps,’ I started. ‘I know you was a shotta back in the day, selling weed on the front line. My guess is that you knew Red Eyes in that line of business back in the day?’

  It took a few seconds for paps to look at me but when he did, he simply nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Your guess is right. I reckoned it would have to come out sooner or later.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

  ‘How could I try and discipline you and bring you up right if you knew what I did to survive in the past?’

  ‘I would have understood.’

  ‘Maybe you would have, maybe you wouldn’t have. But I didn’t want the risk. You see, Dennis, if you knew everything about my past you would always have ammunition to fling back in my face if we had a bone of contention.’

  Paps swirled the drink around in his glass a little and then took a sip. Every time we had our chats he always maintained full eye contact. I always found it a little unnerving… It’s probably why that night I decided against asking him about the guy who my paps and his bredrens duppied.

  ‘I knew Red Eyes back in the day,’ Paps revealed. ‘Before he was known as Red Eyes his nickname was Sceptic. He was one of our crew. He was doing the same thing as me, as you put it selling weed on the front line. He was a hustler, no worse, no better than I was. I think at the funeral today we all realised, well, my age group realised that it could have been one of us lowered into that grave. It could have been one of us who had lived the way he did in the past twenty years or so. He was alright. A friend. It was just that he could never see any other life for him than the one he led.’

  As Paps spoke that last sentence, I noticed he was looking down at the floor. Sadness was in his eyes and I guessed that Red Eyes was more than just another
friend.

  ‘I’m tired and I’m going to my bed,’ I said. ‘You better come up soon if you don’t want Mum coming down here looking for you. Goodnight, Paps.’

  ‘Goodnight, Dennis.’

  I left Paps sitting there with his rum and coke and his grief and as my head hit the pillow I promised myself that I must encourage Noel to try something else to earn P’s than just shotting.

  Chapter Ten

  AKEISHA PARRIS

  Three weeks after the funeral I kinda felt I was going through the motions. Well, maybe not going through the motions but just doing all the shit that Noel expected me to do. The fallout of Red Eyes’ death was still messing up my head and I couldn’t work out how Noel just adapted to his situation and got on with his life. He and his mum were closer than ever. He even started to pick her up from her workplace and we would burn big-heads together at their flat. I had to admit I was kinda jealous ’cos I didn’t have any chill-out time with my mum. I couldn’t ever imagine burning a big-head with her. But always at the back of my head was the merking of Red Eyes.

  All this stressing led me to think how I would react if there was a death in my family and for the first time in my life, I realised that my parents might not always be there… I kinda got obsessed about Paps’ near death shit. I wanted to know how Paps felt when he had his near fatal incident, what was going through his head? But I couldn’t find a way of asking. He might think of me as being morbid or shit like that. I hung around him at home, hoping for the courage to come to me so I could ask him about that night. But courage never came. We ended up talking about third-world debt and boring shit like that. Paps thought that I was taking an interest in world affairs. Little did he know. While all this discussion was going on I did find out one thing though and that’s if you get too much knowledge it can make you too grumpy and vexed to enjoy the life you have. That was Paps.