I’ll be miles away.
With Nicu.
I leave registration and go straight out the
front gate.
Every other time I’ve bunked off
I’ve just headed to the park for cider
instead of going to science or whatever,
but today it’s different.
I’m leaving.
For good.
I feel sick and dizzy,
so I go straight
to the corner shop to get a drink.
And then
I wait.
CREEPING AROUND
Busy.
Busy.
Tata go out metal collecting
most days.
Mămică stay and do sausages, stews
and clothes.
Busy.
Busy.
So it good timing to become
ninja boy.
Creep around boy.
Bunk school boy.
Do a runner.
If they nabbing me in this act
I know
I’m the goner.
But
X
day
is getting
so closer.
Bloody wife!
The day Jess nerves
shatter
to end of her rope
is getting
so closer
too.
Bloody Terry!
Now is time for preparing
to do runner.
Now is not time for
delaying.
I go where Tata keep his
metal collecting cash.
His wife buying cash:
in bedroom,
top of wardrobe,
deep at back,
in box for shoes.
I lift box,
open,
and reach my hand inside.
Hand disappears in
tens
fives
fifties
oranges
blues
reds
monies
cover all my skin.
I stuff my bag with
all my needs.
I take much wedge
and
in bag
squeeze shove
it under
jeans and jumper.
My stomach do
churn spin
thinking if Tata catch me he do
left hook
right hook
on it.
But I must to escape
X
day.
I must.
With bag on my back
I become the mouse,
tipping toes
on creaky floors.
I stop even from blinking
in case Mămică listen from kitchen
and know I not in school like usually.
I aching to hug her for last time
but
I fear to see the hurt in her eyes.
In eyes of Tata too
when they know
I not wanting
their life
for me.
And it vital important
I go to Jess
waiting
now.
Batman
I’m outside Nandos
when I see him shuffling up the road,
a backpack over one shoulder.
He waves at me.
But…
Oh, God.
He’s wearing a cape.
Like a proper cape –
black and buttoned up at the neck.
Where the hell did he get it?
And
what exactly did he think I meant
by doing a runner?
Maybe he thinks we’re gonna fight crime
instead of commit it.
Jesus.
‘All right, Batman,’ I say,
pulling on the cape’s collar.
He frowns.
‘Might get chilling at night, Jess,’ he says.
‘You look like you’re about to go to a bloody
‘Talk about conspicuous.’
‘I not understand these words,’ he says.
‘I ready for running though.’
He lifts up a foot, so I can see he’s got his trainers on.
He’s beaming
but I don’t know what he’s so happy about.
Does he even know what we’re doing?
Does he get that we’re not running
to anything
but
running away
with nowhere to go.
‘Everything hunky dory,’ he says,
twisting his arm around
and
patting his backpack.
‘Don’t say hunky dory,’ I snap.
‘Hunky dory proper English words,’ he says.
‘Well, coming out of your mouth
it sounds like bullcrap,’ I say.
I’m being mean
but
I can’t help it.
He doesn’t seem to be taking this seriously and
I’m not running away with him
if all I’m gonna be doing is spending the next year
stopping him from sounding like a complete moron.
‘How much pounds you have?’ he asks.
I reach into the pocket of my blazer
and pull out a handful of tenners.
Nicu stares at the notes,
the Queen’s superior face glaring at us.
‘That all you find?’ he asks.
‘Well, what have you got,
Prince of Romania?’
He throws his backpack on the ground,
digs deep into it
and shows me.
‘Where the hell did you get all that?’
Wads of cash –
more money than I’ve seen in my life.
‘It not good?’ he asks.
‘Good?
It’s nuts, Nicu.
You are bloody Batman!’
He zips up the backpack
and puts his hands on his hips
like a real superhero.
‘Glad I making you happy, Jess,’
is all he says.
EYE BLINK
The guilt give me goosebump.
For cash in my pocket,
for destroying dreams of Mămică and Tata.
Also
for stealing Tata’s
treasure coat,
the one he wear to village festivals.
But here is cold and chilling most of times,
raining and greying every day,
so
I needing
this
treasure coat for my own.
Jess make joke when
she see treasure coat first time
but that is OK
because
big part of her is piss-taker.
Her eyes wide open when I show my cash.
She tell me I am
superhero.
But I am greedy –
I want
handsome, smart superhero
AND
gentle kissing,
lip locking,
hand hugging.
Now, that would be
amazing.
We don’t do any tender stuff.
No time.
We go quick
away.
But
it not so easy.
Sometimes London North
is too small enough
and we can’t be
alone.
And we not alone
because everyone school bunk today.
Dan and his crew –
Punk Rock Hair,
Fat Belly
and
Neck Muscle –
bump us in street.
When seeing crew
Jess tight squeeze my arm.
‘Shit,’ she say.
I feel all her finger press me.
Crew come close.
I pulling her stiff to me.
Body guard her.
‘Don’t worry, Jess,’ I say. ‘I protect.’
My hand wrap around,
pressuring her waist.
I am Jess steel suit.
‘You not worry, I have you,’ I say.
Crew come close.
‘No, you leave this to me, Nicu,’ Jess say.
This is what I understanding:
‘All right, Jess?’
‘What you doing with that little thief?’
‘Where you going?’
This is what I also understanding:
‘Pikey twat.’
‘Immigrant wanker.’
‘Smack him.’
Crew do circle on me again,
so near
I smell the pong of booze and smoke.
‘Leave him alone, Dan,’ Jess say in terror voice.
‘You stay out of this,’ Dan say.
‘Slapper,’ Fat Belly say.
‘Gyppo lover,’ Punk Rock Hair say.
‘Gyppo shagger more like,’ Muscle Neck say.
Too many laughing.
People in street
seeing,
hearing,
witnessing,
but flick eyes on ground and
quick step past circle.
It just me and my Jess.
Alone on tiny Island.
With no person to
save us.
Dan flick Jess hair,
come close to her ear.
Very close.
Too close.
His mouth, her ear.
He make whisper.
Jess pull back.
‘Fuck off, Dan, will you?’ she say.
Her hand squash me more harder.
‘Come on, Nicu.’
And we fast walk to small street,
away from crew,
away from whispers.
To leave the noise behind.
But Dan and crew don’t to leave.
They follow.
Behind us in silence street.
We walk quicker.
They speed follow.
We stay in silent.
They don’t quiet.
We don’t run.
They move so fast to be in front of us.
All bodies stop.
I hear words I half understanding:
‘Plunge the prick.’
‘Yeah, go on, Dan.’
‘Right in his fucking eye.’
And this boy, Dan,
who
I have never did hurting to
ever,
listen to these wordings.
He listen well good
because
he pull sheen blade from behind jeans.
Jess does banshee scream.
I feel fire
and fear at same time.
Blade come to me fast rapid.
I dance
jerk back
slip slide
touch
tap
wrestling days back.
My hand go deep in Tata’s treasure coat.
I feel for my Swiss Army,
my protect.
Shuffle feet
left
right
reveal my own blade slash.
One
two
like in movies.
The wild man take my body
to crazy land.
I see target,
hard advance,
charge,
arm straight,
lunge,
plunge.
My protect
rips
deep
in and
out.
And it sink softly.
Stab happen in an eye blink:
Dan falling,
crew frozen,
Jess calling
my name,
and
us
running …
running …
running …
Jess-Jess-Jess
I’m shouting and running,
and Nicu’s
behind me
shouting back,
and running too,
but I can’t really hear what he’s saying
except my name
– Jess Jess Jess –
over and over
like a bloody
siren.
MR WOLF
Huffing
puffing
I hearing still his yell
inside my ears.
Huffing
puffing
I seeing still my Swiss Army,
one-two, in-out.
Its picture won’t leave me.
I can’t to breathe.
Eating air.
I can’t to breathe.
Hurry
sprint
speed
lights of shops shoot past eyes,
blinding.
I can’t to breathe.
Blood on Our Hands
‘What the fuck was that?’
I’m screaming
and Nicu’s
behind me
screaming back.
What just happened?
Did Dan get stabbed?
I mean,
Wood-Green-gang-stabbed
like the proper hood boy he pretends to be?
Yeah,
he deserved to get hurt,
but why did Nicu have to be the one to do it?
And why now,
just as we were getting away,
just when I thought things were looking
up?
We round a corner,
leg it down an alleyway
and almost collapse at
the end
of it,
hiding between a pair of wheelie bins.
‘How badly did you hurt him?’ I blurt out.
‘Did you kill him?’
Nicu can’t speak.
He’s just gasping, panting,
then punching one of the wheelie bins to bits.
Punching and
hollering and
punching and
hollering.
I’ve no idea what he’s saying.
‘Stop!’ I scream
and grab his hand.
‘Your hand’s bleeding,’ I say,
feeling the blood’s slipperiness between my fingers,
coughing up a little bubble of sick.
He exhales.
‘Not my blood, Jess,’ he says.
I close my eyes, thinking.
Thinking.
What do we do now?
Where do we go?
Mum? Dawn?
The police?
That’s it:
we go to the police.
It was self-defence,
broad daylight.
I hold on to Nicu
tight,
two hands gripping his shoulders.
‘We have to give ourselves up.’
‘No.’
‘If we run away
it’ll look well suspicious.
They’ll think we meant it.’
He shakes his head,
pulls his cloak
up to hide his face.
‘We have to, Nicu.
We haven’t got a choice.’
He steps away from me,
eyes filling with tears,
looking like a little kid.
‘You have choice, Jess,
because police believing
white girl
speaking good English.
But me.
They seeing only
gypsy boy
with
criminal paper.’
He kicks the wall.
‘Shit,’ I say,
because he
’s right.
The police wouldn’t believe him for a second,
and not just Nicu;
with my offender’s record
they wouldn’t believe me either.
We’re textbook delinquents.
Guilty before we’ve even
opened our mouths.
‘We must to go far away now,’ he says.
‘We can cutting hair and
changing names
and nobody remember
us
after.
OK, Jess?’
He wipes his hands on his cloak,
shudders when a dog in the distance
barks.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘I think we have to go
away like we planned.’
I take his hand.
I hold on tight.
‘Let’s get you cleaned up
first,’ I say.
‘Let’s wash this blood off your hands.’
SALTY SWIMMING POOLS
She pour the water bottle over my
blood hand.
I not hear what she say,
her tongue, mouth, words
all
happening too much fast.
Jess is angry,
in devastation,
totally pissed-off with me.
She is correct to be.
But
I want for her to give me
tight hug
and tell me
everything going to be all right.
Instead
she do the big panic.
I try rub blood off my hand.
Again Dan’s liquid
drop
one
two