Black Sheep (6 page)

‘I wonder if she is still there...’ I mused, thinking of the gulf that would be so obvious between us now. I spoke differently, of course, I knew that. You don’t go to private
school and keep your Eliza Doolittle accent, that’s for sure. My old friends would definitely tease me for ‘talking posh’. But there were other things too: the way I dressed, the
labels I chose, the way I styled my hair, the jewellery I wore, the books I read, the films I watched. I was studying Latin at school, for Goodness’ sake.

What would Rachel and I have to talk about? Where was she now? Was she at school? Still playing football? Or had she dropped out to have a baby? Or maybe she was one of those girls who hung
around with gangs of boys, looking hard and unreachable.

The thought of Rachel leaning against a car, surrounded by boys in hoodies and bandannas, made me think of the conversation I’d had with my schoolfriend, Aalia.

“Dwayne sounds like a really nice guy, Misha,” Aalia had said. “But I think you should find out more about those gangs on his estate. It’s highly likely
that he’s either a member of one or affiliated to one. All the boys are these days.”

“How would you know, Aalia?”

Aalia was the quintessential quiet Muslim girl who, although she didn’t wear a scarf, always wore a pair of straight trousers instead of the pleated skirts that most of us wore. Her hair
was pulled back in a neat ponytail and the only hint of exoticism was her tiny gold nose stud, something a lot of Pakistani girls had.

“I live in South-East London, Misha,” Aalia replied. “I pass those estates every day. Plus... my brother’s been getting into some trouble lately. Gang trouble.”

“What do you mean ‘gang trouble’?”

Aalia’s voice was pained. “Some of those gangs are really bad, Misha. They sell drugs, they rob and stab people and destroy property. Haven’t you seen some of the shops in the
really rough areas? They’re all boarded up to stop the thugs from smashing the windows and robbing the store.

“All I’m saying is you want to be sure that Dwayne’s not involved in that stuff. I’d hate to see you sucked into that life. I know you live in leafy Dulwich and all that,
but you need to open your eyes more. Not everything is as green and serene as it is on this side of the school gates.”

As I sat in the back of the car, watching the buildings flash past, my stomach began tying itself in knots. I thought once again about the pastor’s sermon and whether it
was relevant to my own life. And I closed my eyes and recalled an image of a tall black boy, with the same hooded top as Dwayne – looking
exactly
like Dwayne – crossing a busy
street in Camberwell, surrounded by a group of rough-looking black boys in hoodies, bandannas around their foreheads. I had to rub my arms hard to get rid of the goose-bumps.

DWAYNE

I was proper mash-up on Monday morning when I went to school. I couldn’t stop thinking about Trigger and Jukkie. That madness with the woman and her babies had been
playing on my mind all weekend – and then there was Lightning. We’d all gone to see him in hospital on Sunday morning and he was proper bruck-up, his eyes swollen shut, one side of his
face dark with bruises. His arm was in a sling and his leg was bandaged up. Dem man didn’t even care that he was just a little kid, a younger who didn’t know any better. They bruck him
up, same way.

His mum went mad when she saw us at the hospital. We all went, even Tony. It wouldn’t have been right otherwise. Tony looked different, though, with less bling and a different look in his
eyes. I could tell that his time with the ‘brothers’ at the mosque was having an effect on him.

“What are you doing here?” Lightning’s mum shouted, proper loud so that all the patients and nurses turned to look at us.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs Appiah,” Tony said, all humble. “I don’t know how this happened... you know we’ve always looked after little Kofi.” That was
Lightning’s real name.

“Looked after him?” Her voice was hoarse. “You’re the reason my son is lying there now! You and all these boys let him hang around with you even though you knew I
didn’t want him to!”

“We tried our best to protect him, Mrs Appiah,” repeated Tony, looking down at Lightning. “This should never have happened.” Then I saw him cut his eye at Trigger.
Trigger shifted his eyes, quick-time. I didn’t understand what it was all about but I could see that Tony was vex’.

“Well, you didn’t try hard enough.” Mrs Appiah’s words came out like bullets from a gun, hitting all of us where it hurt most. Lightning was one of us, a Younger. He was
our responsibility and we’d let him down, big time.

When we got outside the hospital, Tony turned on Trigger. “What the hell are you
thinking
, blud?” he yelled, pushing Trigger against the wall.

“
What
?” Trigger screwed up his face and tried to push Tony off but Tony pushed him further up the wall.

“You
know
what, blud! Don’t act stupid!” The spit from Tony’s mouth landed on Trigger’s face as we all watched, tense, wondering what was going to happen
next. I was totally confused – what was Tony on about?

“You! You and your foolishness with the Larkside man is what caused this!”

Then I understood.

“I’m not the one who beat Lightning, so get
off
me!”

“You started this beef ting with Lockjaw and you knew that dem man wasn’t gonna walk away! You knew they wouldn’t back down but you went for them anyway! What you tryin’
to prove?”

“Don’t try and boy me, yeah!” Trigger kicked out at Tony and his new trainer hit Tony in the knee. Tony staggered backwards and Trigger rushed at him, grabbed him by the collar
and pushed him up against one of the parked cars. I looked round quickly and saw one of the security guards coming towards us.

“Allow this, man!” I said, pulling Jukkie by the arm. “We need to duck out of here.”

But Jukkie stood still, as if he was in a video game stuck on pause. He was just staring at Trigger and Tony as they struggled between the parked cars. A vein in his forehead throbbed and he was
chewing his lip like crazy. I guess it must be hard to watch your elder brother being beaten up by your new mentor.

“All right, you lot, break it up!” Two security guards stepped up to Tony and Trigger and pulled them apart. They struggled and cussed but the two guards didn’t let go.
“You boys better move along. If you carry on like this, we’ll have no choice but to call the police.”

That was enough to cool their blood. Both of them stopped struggling and stood there, breathing hard, wiping their mouths, eyeing each other up. The guards pushed them to get them moving and
barked, “Clear off, the lot of you!”

We stumbled towards the two cars, Tony’s and Trigger’s, all of us a bit dazed by everything that had just happened.

When we got to where the two cars were parked, Tony turned to face Trigger, who pulled himself up and scowled at him. “Trig, I’m warning you, blud. Be careful with dem Larkside mans.
You’ve got to take care of RDS now – protect what we’ve built – and that ain’t gonna happen if you get involved in a mad turf war with dem man.”

Trigger twisted his face and snarled, “I ain’t afraid of no one, y’get me. Anyway, you ain’t part of the RDS no more, innit? So what you worrying about? Go back to your
mosque and leave man to take care of business, yeah?”

Tony looked at Trigger for a long minute, then shook his head and sighed. “Juks, let’s go.” He turned to leave.

“Nah, man,” said Jukkie, all quiet-like. “I’m gonna roll with da mans.”

Tony looked at him, kinda hurt and surprised-looking. Then he shrugged and walked off to his car. He didn’t look back once.

Heavy. Jukkie told me later that Tony had gone home and packed a bag, telling his mum that he was going to the Midlands to stay with ‘the brothers’, to ‘clear his head and
decide what’s what’. I think he couldn’t stand to see everything he had built being jeopardised by Trigger. Or maybe he just needed to get himself into the zone so that he could
‘do’ his Muslim ting properly, as he kept saying. All I knew was I was going to miss him, no doubt. I tried to write some rhymes when I got home but, true say, I wasn’t feeling
it. I felt mad jumpy, as if I could hear a timer ticking somewhere, the bomb about to explode any minute.

Walking into school that day, my mind was working overtime. What happened between Tony and Trigger was major, y’get me. We RDS boys had always respected Tony, always
trusted him. Even if you didn’t like something Tony did or a decision he made, you’d go with it out of respect. Coz you knew that, any time anything went down, Tony had your back. But
now that Trigger was top dog, things were changing in RDS. Trig wanted to prove himself, innit. I knew one thing for sure: Tony would never have let things get this bad with Larkside. He
wasn’t about beef, no way. He just wanted to live good: make money and have girls.

But Trigger? He was on a different flex. It was as if he wanted to prove to everyone how bad he was. Trigger wasn’t interested in partying. For him, it was all about control and respect,
making man fear him, know what he was capable of. The garmz and the cars were a side thing. What really got him off was the power. And I could see Jukkie becoming the same. Or maybe he had always
been that way but just couldn’t express it too tough with Tony in charge....

I was so busy thinking, I didn’t watch where I was going. Suddenly I felt something bang into me.

“Are you
blind
, rudeboy?”

I staggered backwards, my bag weighing me down. When I looked round to see where the voice had come from, I saw Leon Mackay glaring at me. Though he was short, Leon was a champion boxer with the
biceps and six-pack to prove it. He was in Year 11 too, but in a different class from me. I didn’t really know him too tough but I knew better than to get into a fight with him. He was
standing with his boys, some of them from our school, others in hoodies and green bandannas.

Green bandannas.

Larkside boys.

Leon looked me in the eye and snarled, “You’re Jukkie’s best mate, ain’t ya?”

I nodded, not saying anything, trying to figure out what they wanted with me, what they wanted with Jukkie.

But then Leon was up in my face and I stepped back until I could feel the school wall behind me. It was hard and rough, and I thought to myself, ‘Anyhow this damages my leather
jacket...’ But before I could tell Leon to take it easy on the garmz, he grabbed my jacket and hoisted me higher up against the wall. “He’s goin’ down for what he did to my
cousin,” he hissed, and his breath stank like he hadn’t brushed his teeth in at least two weeks.

“Your cousin? Who’s your cousin, man? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“He knows.” Leon clenched his jaw and brought his face so close to mine that I could see the blackheads on his nose. “You tell your mandem,” he growled, “that
we’re coming for them. They picked the wrong crew to mess with.” Then I felt something cold and sharp press into my cheek. I couldn’t stop myself shuddering as I realised what it
was. It was a tiny switch-blade. “Do I need to give you a little reminder, blud?”