Too Much Trouble (13 page)

I said earlier that I've never had a problem remembering things. Well there was one exception. I've never had a problem remembering things apart from the few hours after Mr Green sent us into that shop. I guess everything happened so quickly.

It's funny though. I've replayed it so many times in my mind, trying to see if there was anything else I could have or should have done, you'd think I'd remember it well. But it seems to get faster and fuzzier every time I think about it.

***

It wasn't long before it was closing time at the store. Me and Terri had stayed together as usual. We hid in the home department, under some beds. I remember the shop closing, the lights going off, the floors being swept, then mopped. After that it was quiet. I think I fell asleep. One moment it was silent, then the next I could hear people jumping across the beds, shouting and whooping. I looked out to see Ibby's trainers as he ran past.

I slid myself free of the bed and peered into the gloom. I could just make out rows of beds covered in white sheets. Terri appeared next to me. Then Jamal and Prince came bounding into view across the beds.

‘Hey, Em!' Prince called. ‘This is brilliant!'

‘Don't you think we should be a bit quieter?' I asked.

Jamal echoed me in a squeaky voice, ‘
Don't you think we should be a bit quieter?
Why, you heard what Mr Green said, he's done something with the guard, there's no one here!'

Dwayne leapt towards us, shouting, ‘Hello, we're jumping on the beds!'

Then everything happened really quickly. Kieran came running out of the darkness and jumped on to the bed that Prince was on. They were both laughing
as they tumbled off the other side. They crashed into a glass case that held electrical stuff. Some lights came on, and a heartbeat later a piercing sound hit our ears.

‘Run!' Jamal shouted over the screeching alarm.

And we ran. I grabbed Terri's hand and we all hurtled towards the exits. We found ourselves tumbling down the stairs just behind Jamal, Ibby and Dwayne. Kieran followed. We crashed into a fire exit at the bottom and out on to the street. If it was possible, the alarm sounded even louder on the street.

Down the road we could see flashing lights approaching, so we didn't stop running. We tore down the high street, then down another road. Jamal was in front, with Kieran puffing along behind. Terri was dragging at my hand but I didn't let go.

We ran until we found a bus-stop. We stopped there and looked back. No one was following us. We stood panting. I had my hands on my knees, head hanging down.

Then Jamal whispered, ‘What happened to Prince?'

I stood up quickly and looked around. Where was Prince? Last time I'd seen him, he and Kieran had crashed into that glass cabinet.

‘What happened to him, Kieran?' I asked, then noticed something even more disturbing than Prince's absence. Blood was streaked across Kieran's shirt. ‘What happened?' I repeated.

Kieran was shrugging. ‘I don't know,' he said slowly. ‘We broke that glass, and then. . . I don't know.'

‘Ah!' I shouted, not knowing what else to do. ‘I'm going back.' I turned to run back the way we had come.

Terri grabbed my arm. ‘You can't,' she whispered urgently. ‘You'll get caught.'

‘He's my brother! I've got to look after him.' I was staring at Terri, my anger at Kieran, my anger at Prince, my anger at Mr Green all directed at her.

‘We'll... we'll get Mr Green.' Jamal sounded scared, not like him at all. ‘He'll know what to do.' As Jamal finished speaking, a bus approached the bus-stop. ‘Come on,' Jamal said and leapt on to the bus.

Everyone followed, Ibby, Kieran, Dwayne and Terri. I stood for a moment looking back down the street.

I was torn. What was the best thing I could do to help Prince? Stay and probably get caught, or go and
maybe, just maybe, find some help from Mr Green.

‘You getting on?' The bus driver's voice was gruff, like rustling paper.

***

Apparently Jamal knew where Mr Green lived. He had even been there a few times. We had to get on two more buses. Two more buses away from Prince. I spent the whole journey silent. Too angry and scared to speak.

I had let everyone down. I hadn't looked after Prince at all. He was all alone now.

It must have been almost midnight when we arrived at Mr Green's flat. It was really dark and the last bus had been almost empty, just us and an old man who kept shouting at no one.

Jamal rang the doorbell. We waited for a few minutes, then Jamal rang again. We heard some noises inside. Footsteps. We saw a light come on in the hallway. Then the door swung open.

‘What the. . ! What are you doing here?' Mr Green was shouting and whispering at the same time.

None of us answered before Mr Green said, ‘Get inside!' And he herded us all in. As soon as he
had closed the door he grabbed Jamal by the collar. ‘What are you bringing them all here for? I told you to keep your mouth shut.'

A woman called from a room further into the flat. ‘Who is that?'

‘No one. Just go to sleep, I'll be back in a bit,' Mr Green called back. He dragged Jamal by his collar through a doorway. We all followed. We were in a lounge. A big television took up most of one wall and there was a low table in the middle, covered in cans. It smelt weird.

Mr Green said again, ‘What are you doing here?' He let go of Jamal's collar and pushed past us to shut the door into the hallway.

‘It's Prince,' Jamal began. ‘We were in that shop and an alarm went off and we ran. I guess all the others got away. I don't know, we haven't seen ‘em, but we think Prince was hurt. He didn't. . . he's not with us.'

‘Ah! You lot are useless!' Mr Green was shout-whispering again. He looked furious. ‘What do you want me to do about it? If he's got caught I can't help him.'

All my hopes were pinned on Mr Green. But he was right, he couldn't help. He was using us, but
what did he do for us? What did he do for Sastre? What would he do for Prince?

He was no longer magical to me. He didn't seem great. I wanted to be nowhere near him. But I still had nowhere else to go, no one to rely on and no one to trust.

I exploded. ‘Go and get him!' I screamed. ‘Get him out! That's what you do, isn't it? Get my brother back!'

It was then that the gun appeared. One minute he wasn't holding it and the next it was pointing right at me.

Mr Green didn't shout now. He just said slowly, ‘Shut your mouth, boy.'

I could hear Terri crying, but I couldn't take my eyes off the gun to look at her or the others.

‘You are lucky that I'm not kicking you out right now,' Mr Green continued. ‘Sit down.' I heard rustling as the others sat down and a clunk as someone knocked over a can. ‘Now!'

I realised I was still standing, fixated by the weapon, and I dropped down on to the floor.

‘I'm going to sleep.' No one made a sound as Mr Green talked. The gun was still pointed at my head. ‘You are not going to make a sound.' He looked
round at the others. I still couldn't take my eyes off the gun. ‘In the morning, we'll see if we can find the others, but now I'm going to sleep.' With his free hand he put his finger to his lips. ‘Not one sound.'

He lowered the gun and turned to walk out of the door.

‘No!' My brain said it but it came out of Jamal's mouth, and as he shouted, he jumped up and grabbed hold of the gun in Mr Green's hand.

Mr Green didn't let go. He swung round to face Jamal. Anger was painted across his face. Jamal was snarling as he tried to wrestle the gun from Mr Green. Mr Green pulled back and Jamal was nearly lifted off his feet. They whipped around the room, crashing into the table.

They were both pressed up against the wall when the gun swung out to one side. Then there was a deafening noise and everyone froze.

The gun dropped to the floor. Mr Green and Jamal had both let go and were staring towards the sofa. I followed their gaze. Terri's eyes were open. No sound was leaving her mouth and no tears escaped her eyes. A big red hole pierced her neck. Blood gushed out.

You didn't need to see the hole to tell that she
was dead. Just one look in her eyes would tell you that. There was no joy or fear or hope in those eyes. She wouldn't read to me again. She wouldn't fall asleep as I read. She'd never be a writer.

I felt sick.

Still no one moved.

Then my fear and anger took over. Anger at myself for not looking after Prince or Terri, and fear of what might have happened to my brother.

I was quick. As quick as my brother, lightning-fingers Prince.

I stood up and picked up the gun.

It was much heavier than I expected. I struggled to hold it steady, two feet out in front of my face. Heavy, cold and terrible. I had seen several guns, hundreds if you count those in films and on television, but I had never held one. I had certainly never pointed a gun at someone's face. I had never threatened to take away a person's life.

‘Give me the piece, Emmanuel,' said Mr Green without a trace of hesitancy, as I stared at his face through the sights of a pistol. His slow, accented drawl resounded with the confidence of a man who was used to obedience. ‘Give it to me, boy!'

My hands shook as my resolve began to break.

I couldn't kill him.

‘You've killed her,' I whispered.

‘I said give me the piece, Emmanuel.' Mr Green stepped towards me as I stepped round him.

I pushed the door open with my foot, still pointing the gun at Mr Green. I could feel hot tears pouring down my face. I walked backwards down the hall and Mr Green followed me. I took one hand off the gun and nearly dropped it. With my free hand I opened the front door, still looking at Mr Green.

Then I turned and ran. My tears became cold as the night air hit my face, and I threw the gun into a bush as I streamed down Mr Green's road.

I was more alone than I had ever been.

The rest of that night was a blur. I didn't run far. I was exhausted and I didn't hear anyone come after me. I found myself wandering along empty roads. I didn't know what to do. Should I go back to the department store? Or to a police station? Maybe Prince was really hurt. I even considered phoning my uncle.

In the end, every option disappeared. I had been so used to following I had stopped paying attention to where Mr Green took us. I had no idea where the store was. I hadn't even paid attention to what buses Jamal had taken us on. Even if I could find a hospital, what would I say? And phoning my uncle wasn't really an option.

Tired of wandering I climbed over a locked park gate and sat on a bench. I sat there for a long time in the dark. Thinking and crying.

The sun rose while I sat and thought about home. A tiny, dusty, one-room house with my mum and dadda, where I watched a tiny, baby Prince grow up. A musty house, full, full of plants and just me and my brother. House after house where Prince had changed and I'd changed, where we'd been changed by what we did and the people we did it with. Home.

A few hours after it had got light, I began to notice the noise of cars on the roads. It was then that a man in a green uniform came walking down the path towards me. He had a green cap as well as a green uniform.

‘Oi,' he said, ‘you shouldn't be in here at night.'

I didn't answer. I got up and walked to the gate. It was open now. As I went out, I stuck my hands in my pockets. There was nothing in there but a screwed-up piece of paper. I pulled it out. It said, ‘King's Church: Help is at hand.' It had an address and a phone number and a picture of some smiling people. I remembered where it had come from – SD, the wallet man.

As I read this tiny life-line, I knew what I needed.
I needed help. For a long time I had needed help. I couldn't do it alone, look after Prince, look after me, look after Terri. I needed help.

I finished reading. I looked up and, like magic, there was a church, right opposite the park gate. I walked straight over to it.

The church had a big wooden door. Not like an old-fashioned one. A new one with a glass panel and a metal button. It had a little sign that said
Press for attention
. I pressed the button.

Moments later a lady's voice came crackling out of a little speaker next to the button. ‘Hello, St. John's.'

‘Can you help me?' I said, and just like that my life of crime was over.

No more stealing. No more guns.

No more violence.

***

The people in St. John's kind of helped me. They invited me inside and asked me some questions. They gave me a drink in a plastic cup and some biscuits out of a big tin.

They made some phone calls and some other adults came. A man and a woman. They said they were from
Social Services. I didn't know what that meant.

They took me to some offices. They asked me lots and lots of questions. I asked some questions about Prince. They made some phone calls. They told me Prince was OK. They told me that I didn't need to worry.