Welcome To Wherever You Are (9 page)

That afternoon, Savannah kept recalling the shy little black girl with the stammer, and the terror that spread across her face as the fat white man shouted at her and tried to withdraw imaginary demons from her young body. There was nothing demonic inside her; she was made of love and trust and raised by caring parents who believed in their hearts they were doing what was best for her. The Reverend was not God’s vessel on Earth like he claimed; he was a charlatan who profited from blind faith.

Savannah wondered if she was the only audience member to have noticed the child peeing herself when Reverend Devereaux gripped her face. She was convinced her father had seen it too and got a kick out of it. Then Savannah remembered later, backstage, passing the crippled woman who’d taken baby steps in front of the audience earlier that day. Moments later and out of view, she was back in her wheelchair, praying for the pain in her knees to subside.

Savannah often chastised herself for remaining under the Reverend’s roof and accepting his soiled dollars. As a beneficiary, she felt complicit, and it sickened her.

‘Baby, you just have to hold on for another year and then we’ll be able to get somewhere of our own,’ reassured Michael from his seat opposite her. He placed his hands upon hers. ‘Let him pay for your college fees, and once you graduate I’ll put in for a transfer and we can move to New York like we planned.’

‘It’s not my dad who’s paying for all this, is it though?’ she reasoned. ‘It’s his congregation, it’s the collection plate he robs so we can live in a twenty-room mansion, so I can drive a Mercedes, go to dance classes, buy clothes, shoot guns at the rifle range and have the best education those people’s money can buy.’

‘But you’ll make it up to those folk once you leave college,’ Michael continued. ‘Do some volunteer work, work full time for a charity . . . whatever you need to do to earn yourself some good karma. And you’re doing this for us, not just for yourself.’

Savannah knew what Michael said made sense; if she were to storm out of the family home on principle to go it alone, he too would suffer from the loss of her generous allowance that helped to pay for his college tuition. Michael also abhorred his inability to pay his own way, but he knew he was benefitting for the greater good.

‘I can’t afford to put myself through med school on my own, or I’d be paying off loans until I retired,’ he reminded her. ‘But once I’m qualified, I’m going to work in the public sector. I’m going to help you give back what your daddy has taken away.’

All Savannah had to do was offer an occasional half-smile in front of her father, her mother and the cameras for a little while longer, and then she’d be free to start living her life as she should, with Michael. And she couldn’t wait. Keeping a boyfriend secret from her family for almost three years was difficult. She’d learned to lie to them about seeing friends, attending non-existent college parties, social mixers and extracurricular college classes, all so she could spend time with him.

‘Okay, I know, you’re right, it’s just tough sometimes,’ she admitted.

Michael clasped her hands gently and smiled. ‘I know, baby, I know. But you’re doing real good. And once you leave that house for ever, think of the look on his face when he realises his daughter’s boyfriend is a black man.’

Savannah grinned and leaned over the table to plant a kiss on Michael’s lips, unaware Pastor Jackson had stopped in his tracks outside the coffee shop, unsure as to whether his eyes were deceiving him.

TODAY

‘Hey, buddy, how’s it going?’

Tommy looked up from the TV set to find two men standing before him, one tanned, one the colour of a boiling lobster, and both unshaven and sweating. Tommy wasn’t sure if they were drunk or friends of Joe.

‘Can I help you?’ he replied curtly.

‘Actually we’re here to help you,’ replied Matty, and flashed him a big, crooked smile.

Tommy raised an unconvinced eyebrow. By sight alone, he knew their type, because every hostel he’d stayed in had them: wannabe alpha males in a community made up of omegas. They were the loudest; the most opinionated; the effortlessly confident; the biggest boasters; the ones who were first to laugh at themselves and then at others; who’d travelled the furthest, the longest and through the harshest of terrains. They were everything in a traveller that Tommy disliked because they were everything he didn’t have the confidence to be. And he didn’t want them under his roof.

‘By special delivery from Ireland, we’ve brought to you the life and soul your hostel needs, in two rather handsome packages, if I might be so bold. I’m Matty, and my friend here is Declan.’

Tommy remained deadpan; already, their presumption that the hostel could not function without their presence made his hackles rise.

‘My esteemed pal and I need shelter from the elements,’ Declan persevered.

‘It’s 30 degrees outside,’ Tommy replied.

‘Precisely,’ added Matty. ‘We need a roof over our heads to cool down.’

‘The trouble is we have a wee cash flow problem,’ added Declan. ‘We’re waiting for some nicker to be transferred from home, but we can settle up with you at the end of the week if you can offer us a couple of beds?’

‘Does it say “homeless shelter” outside?’ asked Tommy. ‘We’re not a charity, so you’ll have to sleep on the beach till you sort out your “cash flow” problem.’

‘Ah, but that’s illegal,’ replied Declan, still smiling.

‘That’s not my problem.’

‘That’s not very Christian of you,’ added Declan, tilting his head towards Reverend Devereaux’s television broadcast, ‘and I can see you’re a man of faith.’

‘The telly only gets three stations.’

‘Okay, what if we made a donation in the form of these?’ asked Matty. He and Declan unclipped their backpacks and removed an Xbox One and a Sony Blu-ray player they’d taken as souvenirs from a boxcar. Matty and Declan smiled hopefully at Tommy.

‘So, let me get this right. You have no money but want to pay for a bed with stolen electronics? I don’t think so.’

‘Come on, man, have you got no heart for a neighbouring countryman? We’ll kip on the floor, we’re not fussy,’ pleaded Matty. They were used to talking people around to their way of thinking.

‘Nice to meet you, but goodbye,’ replied Tommy, smiling to himself. ‘Not today,’ he thought.

‘Oh you fecking bellend,’ snapped Declan, banging his fist on the counter just as Ron appeared from his office.

‘Is there a problem, Timmy?’ he asked gruffly.

‘It’s Tommy, and no, there’s no problem – these gentlemen were just leaving.’

‘Didn’t room four empty this morning?’

‘Well yeah, but they’re broke. And they’re trying to pay for it with stolen goods.’

‘Can you boys cook?’

Matty and Declan looked at each and smiled, while Tommy looked aghast.

‘We certainly can, sir,’ replied Matty.

‘Organise the evening meals and you can stay,’ said Ron before Tommy had a chance to argue, and immediately he’d regretted telling Ron about the previous night’s issues with Joe. ‘And make sure Peyk installs these kind donations in the lounge, Timmy,’ added Ron, pointing to the boxes.

‘We’ll have two keys, please, Timmy,’ added Declan with a victorious grin, ‘and bring our bags to our room, there’s a good lad.’

34.02419N was the first line of numbers the needle began to etch in black ink.

Once the Hispanic tattoo artist finished, he dabbed blood and excess colour from between the seventh and eighth of Jake’s ribs with a tissue. Then he continued with the next row – 118.4814W. Jake had chosen a simple Arial font, the same as the other twenty-four rows of numbers that preceded it and that stretched from just under his armpit and down towards his hip bone.

The tattooist cleaned Jake up and passed him a mirror. Jake smiled as he examined the latest numbers in his collection. Once a thin plastic sheet had been taped to his side to protect his body art, Jake paid his $45 for the work, then swept his long, chestnut brown hair into a ponytail, threw his battered rucksack over his back and continued his journey along the Venice Beach boardwalk.

‘Remember who you are, not who you were,’ he repeated over and over in his head, and absent-mindedly bit down on the inside of his cheek as he walked.

As the morning progressed, Tommy’s light began to dim to a darkness that would often permeate his world without warning.

Matty and Declan’s appearance hadn’t helped his mood, but they weren’t the root cause of it. He didn’t know what encouraged the clouds to blow in late that day, all he knew was that each time they appeared, he’d get the sudden urge to break from the norm of surrounding himself with others and ensconce himself in silent contemplation.

He made no effort to placate a grumpy Sadie when she arrived for her shift and took him to task for not helping to free Peyk from the ceiling. Instead, he made his way towards his empty dormitory, crawled into his sleeping bag and curled himself up as much as the material would allow. After a few moments, he reached into the rucksack under his bed and removed a small leather pouch, from which he poured four memory cards into his hand. Three of them he’d sometimes slot into his digital camcorder to watch and remind himself of how far he’d come with his new life as a backpacker.

But the other he could still not bring himself to play. He kept it in the centre of his palm and stared at it, surprised that something so small could frighten him so much.

TWO YEARS EARLIER – NORTHAMPTON, ENGLAND

Tommy was unaware how long he’d remained unconscious in the back of his brothers’ car before he came to.

His eyelids flickered as he struggled to acquaint himself with his whereabouts, and he became distracted by a figure skirting around whatever it was he was caught inside. He thought he could see the whites of their eyes glaring at him coldly like the grim reaper. It made him shiver.

As his vision slowly returned, Tommy’s forehead palpitated like the time Daniel had accidentally smacked him full-force with a cricket ball as a child. And as he turned his head in the direction of a sudden noise, a shooting pain jumped from his left shoulder and up into his neck.

Tommy knew something in his world was askew. Now, through a cracked window, he could see an unfamiliar woman and a man, and he didn’t know why he was watching them from a peculiar angle. He felt strangely calm, as if he were caught in that cosy period just before he fell into sleep but had already begun to dream.

Suddenly a gentle thumping on the window became a louder, more urgent banging and he thought he heard someone say something like: ‘One in the back . . . moving.’ Then, like the sudden force of the impact of the shadow that had ripped into their car, Tommy knew exactly where he was. Fear and panic rose in tandem as he twisted his aching head from side to side, absorbing the carnage Lee and Daniel’s car had become.

He couldn’t understand why he was alone; from where he sat, the driver’s seat was empty, with a twisted gear stick protruding at a right angle. The door had been struck so hard that it jutted inwards, towards the passenger seat. Tommy accepted the shadow he’d seen through his camcorder must have been the other vehicle that had collided with them and pushed their car onto its side. And judging by the state of the internal and external fittings, it had been a serious smash. But where were his brothers? Why would they have left him there without trying to help him escape?

‘Lee!’ he began, ‘Dan?’

‘Don’t move,’ came Lee’s voice from outside.

Thank God, he was alright, Tommy thought, and for a moment his alarm began to subside. He patted down his arms and legs and only his foot looked wrongly placed, pointing at an awkward angle, yet it didn’t ache as much as his neck. He reached for the seat belt buckle and clicked the release button, and after several attempts it came loose. Grabbing at the other seat belt, he began hauling himself towards the window where faces outside were watching him. However, a bar of metal wedged across that glass prevented his release.

His eyes darted around the car, desperately trying to find another route to freedom. He noticed the windscreen had shattered but the roof had been pushed down, leaving a means of escape only a child could squeeze through.

It was at that moment he caught a glimpse of the front passenger seat. At first, his brain couldn’t deconstruct what lay twisted on it – heaps of clothes, stained by a red liquid and what resembled sinew and bones jutting out in strange positions. Then suddenly, he knew what it was.

His brothers’ bodies shared the seat, melded together with torn flesh and metal like Siamese twins. Tommy stared at them in horror, unable to work out who was who. One of their heads was now concave, while the other’s was only held in place by a visible sliver of bone. Tommy couldn’t make sense of it, he would have sworn on a stack of bibles he’d just heard Lee’s voice outside. But here lay Lee with Daniel, tangled together with no pulse between them.

In sheer terror, he had to get out of the car and he had to get out
right now
. He began screaming at the people outside for their help but no sound came from his throat. He kicked and pulled at the back seats to smash the rear window but it just made the bones in his foot audibly crack.