Trash - Andy Mulligan [35]
I nodded again, and he was quiet. Like the secret inside was so big he couldn’t say it.
‘I want to go home, Raphael,’ he said. He was so quiet I could hardly hear. ‘I came off the islands when I had to. I want to go back.’
‘Where’s your home?’
‘Sampalo. That’s where I was born.’
‘Go home then,’ I said. ‘You can go home with two thousand, can’t you? The ferries cost … I don’t know—’
He snorted, and I shut up.
‘I can go home on the ferry, sure – go tomorrow if I want. And then what, when I get there? It’s cost a thou just for the ticket. What happens then? You think people in Sampalo live on sand? That’s why everybody comes here, man – that’s why I came here. That’s why I got sent here! I’ve gotta make a stake. Fifty thousand is what I need. Then I buy a boat, and I go home and fish for ever.’
‘You can fish?’ I said.
‘Course I can fish! I was fishing before I could talk! I could swim before I could crawl! I will buy a boat, and I’m going to fish and fish and fish.’
I looked at Rat then, because he sounded so fierce – and that wide-eyed, old little face looked back at me. I tried to imagine him back on his island, Sampalo, steering his fishing boat, throwing out the lines. I’d heard of the place, of course – and never known it was Rat’s home. It was a place people talked about, and I knew it was a long, long way away. Tourists went there, and it was supposed to be beautiful as paradise. You cried when you got there, you cried when you left – that’s what people said.
‘With a boat I can fish,’ he said. ‘That’s got to be better than what we do here, hasn’t it? Huh? Little house on the beach?’ He was looking at me hard. ‘Fishing boat out on the sand? None of this stink – none of this … crazy way to make a living. You, me. Gardo too – all of us maybe. Sun comes up, we’re already out. Been out all night, maybe – you think about it.’
‘I can’t fish,’ I said.
‘So what?’ he said. ‘I teach you. Cook what you need, sell the rest at the market – grow flowers. I had a sister grew flowers right out of the sand. You like the thought of that?’
‘We’d need more money,’ I said. ‘We’d need to buy three boats, not one.’
‘Yes,’ said Rat. ‘Maybe so. But …’
He was quiet a moment, thinking hard. ‘Whatever happens, we can’t stay here much longer, can we?’
I felt him touch my face very softly.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I guess we’ve got to wait and see what happens.’
‘You can’t stay here, Raphael. You’ll always be thinking they’re coming back for you.’
I was still swollen up and bruised, but the cuts were healing. My ribs were aching from when they hauled me in back through the window, and every time I touched them I felt sick again. So, yes – I did know what he meant, but how he knew it I don’t know. That time with the police had changed everything, and people seemed different now too – people were looking at me strangely, like I’d brought bad luck. They’d all been pleased to see me back safe – but … my auntie was scared, and I was scared. There was something else too that I never told Rat, because I was ashamed.
It was sleep.
I was finding sleeping hard. I was having nightmares and waking up crying. I’ll tell the truth – I said I would – I was wetting myself too. I would wake up with Gardo holding me like I was a baby and the cousins waking up scared, crying out, and the neighbours banging the walls because I was screaming so loud.
I think Auntie wanted me out, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
9
This is Rat, also known as Jun-Jun – I tell my story and it’s written down!
We took a bus from the dumpsite, took it right into the city to the big crazy bus station, Raphael going first and doing the talking. OK, he was bruised up, so he still looked a state – but when you look like me, you can’t even get a ride very often, not when you’re alone: you get kicked off like you’re a curse. So he led the way but I was steering, hiding my ugly face till we were squeezed on up the back.
Of course, when we got to the stand we found out that buses to Zapanta’s land went from a different place, so we jogged