Refugee Boy (14 page)

They listened to him from downstairs for a while as he cried. He gasped for breath as the crying sapped the energy from him, then they could hear him talking loudly to himself in Amharic, ranting as if he had lost his mind. They couldn’t understand what he was saying but somehow it sounded as if he was pleading with someone or begging for something. Slowly, he began to quieten down. They listened as he drew in big, deep breaths; they could hear him trying his best to pull himself together.

The house fell silent and for a while the Fitzgeralds moved around as quietly as they could, trying not to disturb him. They lowered their voices as they spoke and made sure not to slam any doors. In the dining room they held an impromptu family meeting to decide what to do next.

It was decided that Mrs Fitzgerald should go up,
but as she was leaving the room, Ruth called to her.

‘Mum, let me go.’

Mrs Fitzgerald thought this was very uncharacteristic of Ruth. ‘So why do you want to go? The last thing we want to do is upset him any more.’

But Ruth sounded as if she meant business. ‘Just let me go, Mum, I know what I’m doing.’

Ruth knocked on the door as lightly as she could. There was no response. She knocked a little louder. Still no response. Then she knocked even louder but there was still no response.

She turned the door handle and began to speak as she opened the door. ‘Alem, Alem, are you all right?’

She popped her head round the door to find Alem fast asleep on the bed. He was fully dressed and curled up on the bed in the foetal position. Ruth closed the door and went back downstairs.

About an hour later the phone rang. Mrs Fitzgerald quickly picked it up so that it wouldn’t wake Alem. It was Sheila. She explained to Mrs Fitzgerald that she had heard the news and wanted to offer her help. She also asked that Alem should not be sent to school the next day because she needed to see him, as did Nicholas the barrister. They spoke about the way Alem had reacted to the news, but Mrs Fitzgerald insisted that things were now under control and that if she needed her help or that of the Social Services, she would let them know.

As the call was ending, Ruth heard movement in Alem’s room. She quickly went to the bottom of the stairs to listen, and when she was sure she went up and quietly knocked on his door.

‘Come in,’ Alem said.

She entered the room where Alem was sitting on his bed, re-stacking the books which he had knocked over.

‘Alem, are you all right?’ she asked sympathetically.

‘I’m OK,’ said Alem, still in his monotone mode. Ruth stood next to the bed. ‘There’s no way I can feel exactly what you’re feeling now but I just wanna tell you that I’m here for you, right? Whatever you want, right, I’m here.’

Alem just nodded his head. Ruth continued. ‘It’s bad, yeah, but you gotta be strong, right, and if we stick together we’ll be strong, innit?’

Alem nodded his head again. Ruth pressed on. ‘There’s a load of bullshit happening out there, you know. There’s wars, famines, you got all those politicians talking rubbish, you got all those people believing the rubbish, and when it comes down to your mates, you just don’t know who to trust. Well, I’m letting you know, Alem, you can trust me. Whatever’s going down, right, you can trust me. I’m like your sister, right?’

The thought lines on Alem’s forehead deepened as he brought his eyebrows together. He couldn’t work
it out. Why was she being so nice to him now? Was she for real, and could he trust her?

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said. ‘Let me explain, Alem. We’ve had nine foster children here. The one before the last one used to go into my room and steal all my things, and the last one attacked me in the middle of the night. Some are good and some are bad, but how do I know who’s who? One accused me of being a witch, and I fell in love with another. They just come and go and I have to be nice to all of them. I have nothing against
you
, Alem; I’m just a bit too suspicious, I suppose. And my parents, they’ve forgotten about me. I’ve got to be Little Miss Perfect now that I’ve left school and stand on me own two feet while they help the poor and needy. Well, I’m needy too. That’s all, Alem. I ain’t got nothing against you. It’s my parents. They’re good people, but they’re just not good to me.’

She stopped for a moment and sat next to him on the bed before continuing. ‘That’s what it’s about, it’s like that. But I know that you’re cool, everyone says you’re no problem, and I know you’re no problem so let’s just chill. Why create bad vibes? Look, I’m sorry. Now remember this, no bad vibes, I’m like your sister, right?’

Alem turned his head slowly to look at her.

‘Right?’ she repeated, trying to get some response from him.

Alem suddenly lunged towards her with his arms outstretched. He put his arms around her, placing his head on her shoulder, and cried. This time he cried softly, squeezing her tightly. He had been hugged, but he had not hugged anyone since leaving Africa. Ruth could feel that he desperately needed to hold someone. She was taken by surprise but sat still and didn’t move at all, and Alem didn’t want her to move. He felt cold, and the heat from her body comforted him. His grip was tight and although his strength slightly restricted Ruth’s ability to breathe, she relaxed and as slowly as she could she put her arms gently around him. She could feel his tears penetrating her clothes as they dropped on to her shoulder, but she could also feel Alem hugging the family he was missing.

Sheila and Nicholas arrived at the house at half past ten the next morning. Ruth had phoned in to work and told the manager that there had been a death in her family, so all three of the Fitzgeralds were present. Mrs Fitzgerald had tea prepared; Mr Fitzgerald sat quietly in his chair and Ruth sat reading a music magazine, trying hard not to make it obvious that she was keeping an eye on Alem. Alem was quiet too; he had not managed to sleep much, his eyes were bloodshot and his skin had lost its shine.

As Sheila and Nicholas entered the living room, Sheila went straight to Alem and asked if she could speak to him privately in his room. Alem said yes and they made their way upstairs leaving the others drinking tea.

They both stood just inside the door as Sheila began speaking. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your mother,’ she said softly. ‘It really is terrible and you must be really feeling it. Is there anything you would like me to do for you, anything at all?’

Alem looked down and shook his head.

‘Are you sure?’ she added.

Still looking down, he nodded his head again.

‘Well, look, Alem, all you have to do is ask and we’ll do all we can. You know you can always talk to me if there’s anything you need, and if you feel that you want to talk to anyone else, you know, a counsellor, then we can arrange that for you.’

‘What’s a counsellor?’ Alem asked inquisitively.

‘That’s someone to talk to. Sometimes it helps if there is someone not connected with your family or your life who can listen to you and talk with you. It may not sound like much but it really can help when you have a lot of things on your mind. Would you like me to set up a meeting with one for you?’ she asked in a way that suggested that he should say yes.

‘No,’ Alem replied, ‘at the moment I don’t feel like I want to talk to anyone.’

‘Well, if you need me or anyone else to talk to, just say so. But Alem, just for a short time we will need you to talk to us. You see, Nicholas is here because he really needs to speak to you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but it would help. He will have to ask you some questions about your case and possibly about your mother. Honestly, it would be very helpful.’

‘That’s OK.’

‘It is important,’ she continued, ‘but if it’s getting too much for you, just tell him to stop.’

Back in the living room Nicholas began to speak as soon as Alem sat down. ‘Alem, I’m sorry to hear about what happened to your mother, you must be devastated. I may just be a man in a suit but I do understand what it’s like to lose a loved one. My condolences, mate.’

Alem could see that for all Nicholas’s smooth talk and his confident attitude, he did seem sincere. Nicholas always sounded as if he knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it, but this time Alem felt that he was searching for words. As Nicholas continued, he flipped back to his old self, conscious but businesslike.

‘Alem, we have a problem. The opposition know that your father wrote to you in November and we have reason to believe that they want to drag the case out and possibly try to locate your father. Of course we know that the last letter you received from your father is a very painful one, but we would like to use it in court next month to strengthen your case. We can only do this with your permission.’

Alem thought for a while and all the eyes in the room were upon him. He turned to Sheila. ‘Sheila, you are my social worker, yes?’

‘Yes,’ Sheila replied.

‘You are concerned about my welfare, yes?’

‘Yes,’ said Sheila, not sure where this line of questioning was going.

‘Well, don’t you think that I should now go back and be with my father? Don’t you think that now it is important that what is left of my family should be together?’

This was Alem being logical again. Everyone in the room looked at each other, knowing that there was some truth in what he was saying.

‘Look, Alem, we cannot tell you to stay or to go,’ Sheila responded. ‘Quite frankly, if you were to seek political asylum because I told you to, I’d be in trouble. We are all just here for you. It’s not our job to advise you on whether you should stay or not, but if you do want to stay, we will support you. All I can say to you is look at the facts. You’ve tried to live on both sides of the border and both communities have persecuted you. You’ve just lost your mother, and your father is in fear of his life. You would have no one to meet you when you arrive in Ethiopia or Eritrea and now you don’t even have the address of a single relative there. You could be arriving there as your father is arriving here. Think about it. Why would you want to put your life in danger? We can’t tell you what to do, Alem, but I think your father wants you to be as safe as possible. That’s all I can say, it’s up to you.’

Alem’s response was immediate. ‘Yes, but I’m not wanted here. Look, I have to go to court to stay here. In the papers they call us names. This country may be good for some things but if this country was so good,
why do I have to go to court to get some of this goodness? Why do they not believe me?’

Ruth and her parents sat with their heads bowed as if they were being told off. Sheila sat back in her chair. ‘You have a point, Alem, but you must try to understand the court system here, and let me assure you that there are many people here who do welcome you, you know that.’

At this point Nicholas entered the conversation. ‘If you like, you can think about it for a time. We don’t have to make a decision now, but the sooner we know what evidence we have at our disposal, the more effectively we can plan our strategy.’

‘I will think about it now,’ Alem said, and the room fell silent again as everyone tried to listen to Alem thinking.

All except for Mrs Fitzgerald. ‘Fresh tea, anyone?’ she asked, smiling as if she had just come up with a great idea. Everyone just shook their heads and continued to wait for Alem.

‘OK,’ Alem said, ‘we must continue. You can use the letter.’

Alem went up to his room and returned with the letter and Ruth volunteered to go and get it photocopied at the newsagent’s. When she returned, she gave the original back to Alem and then gave a copy each to Sheila and Nicholas, who began to read it straightaway.

Nicholas read it quickly, put it into his case, then stood up. ‘Alem, this is going to be hard for you but as Sheila said, we’re all here to help. Hopefully this letter will make things a lot easier for us. I must go now, but there is still a month to go before the hearing so you get on with your life, leave this to us.’

Sheila was the next to stand up. ‘See you soon, Alem.’

In the hallway the Fitzgeralds thanked Sheila and Nicholas before returning to the living room for a family meeting. Ruth took control; she suggested that Alem should have a couple of days off school and it was agreed. Her mother said she would phone the school and explain the situation, and Alem was told once more to get on with his life and to leave all the worrying to the barrister and the Social Services.

For the next couple of days Alem stayed at home. He spent much of the time reading or on his computer, and he even spent a little time in the garden with Mr Fitzgerald, feeding the fish and watching them swim round in circles. Ruth continued to go to work as normal but when she was home she now communicated with Alem a lot more. The night before he went back to school, she went for a long walk with him around the streets of Manor Park. After the walk, as Alem was sitting quietly in his room looking at the family photo, Ruth knocked on the door. Alem invited her in
and she sat at his computer desk.

‘Do you know how to use this thing?’ she said, looking at the various pieces of hardware.

‘I can do a few things, games, CD-ROMs, that’s about all really.’

‘Do you mind if I use it?’ she asked. ‘No, not at all. Do you want me to go for a while?’

‘No,’ said Ruth, ‘but can I have a look at your photo?’

Alem handed her the photo. ‘How old were you when this was taken?’ she asked, looking at the happiness on the faces.

‘Twelve,’ Alem replied.

‘Do you have any more photos?’

‘No, just that one, and that one is wearing out because it has been in my bag, in my pockets, under my pillow, and I keep holding it.’

‘Come here and watch me,’ Ruth said, smiling.

Alem stood over her as she booted up the computer and began to work. Her speed and expertise astounded him. Within twenty minutes she had scanned in the photo and made it into his desktop image.

‘There you go,’ she said, leaning back to admire her handiwork. ‘From now on every time you boot up your computer, that’s what you’ll get.’