Trash - Andy Mulligan [4]
‘What’s your name?’ he said.
I told him.
‘Brothers? Sisters? This your brother?’
‘My best friend, sir. This is Gardo.’
‘Where do you live, son?’
I told him everything, fast and happy, smiling hard – and I watched him fix our house in his mind, and then fix my face. He rubbed my ear gently, like I was a kid. He said: ‘You gonna help us tomorrow, Raphael? How old are you?’
‘Fourteen, sir.’ I know I look younger.
‘Where’s your father?’
‘No father, sir.’
‘That was your ma?’
‘Auntie.’
‘You want work, Raphael? You gonna help?’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘How much are you paying? I’ll work for ever!’ I made my smile bigger and my eyes wider, trying just to be an excited, harmless, cute little trash boy.
‘One hundred,’ he said. ‘One hundred for the day, but if you find that bag …’
‘I wanna help too,’ said Gardo, pretending to be eight years old and showing his teeth. ‘What’s in the bag, sir? More money?’
‘Bits and pieces. Nothing valuable, but—’
‘What kind of crime?’ I said. ‘How’s it gonna help you solve a crime? Is it a murder?’
The policeman smiled at me some more. He looked at Gardo too. ‘I don’t even think it will,’ he said. ‘But we got to give it our best shot.’ He was looking at me hard again, and Gardo’s arm was right round me. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Then the policemen climbed back into their car and drove on, and we made sure we stood right up close to show we weren’t afraid, and we made sure we ran with the car and waved. Now, Behala’s full of little neighbourhoods just like ours. The shacks we live in grow up out of the trash piles, bamboo and string, piled upwards – it’s like little villages in amongst the hills. We watched the car, rocking over the ruts and holes, the lights going up and down. If they wanted to talk to everyone, they’d have to make the same speech ten times.
Later on, my auntie came close and said, ‘Why are you telling lies, Raphael Fernández?’
‘I found a wallet,’ I said. ‘I gave you what I found – why did you say that to them?’
She came close and she spoke quietly. ‘You found the bag, didn’t you? You tell me now.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I found money.’
‘Why did you say a shoe? Why did you not tell the truth?’
I shrugged, and tried to be sly. ‘Ma, I thought they might want the wallet back,’ I said.
‘Money in a wallet? Where’s the wallet now?’
‘I’m going to get it! I just didn’t want to speak up in front of everyone, everyone looking right at me, and—’
‘You found the wallet in a bag? You can’t lie to me.’
‘No!’ I said. ‘No.’
She looked at me hard again, and shook her head. ‘You gonna get us into a lot of trouble, I think. Whose wallet was it? People always have a name, and if you—’
‘I just took the money,’ I said. ‘I’ll throw the damn thing away right now.’
‘You give it to the police.’
‘Why? It’s not what they’re looking for, Ma. I didn’t find a bag.’
‘Oh, boy,’ she said. ‘Raphael. What I’m thinking is, if they’re throwing money around to get that something back, you don’t want to be caught messing about with it. I am serious, Raphael. If you found anything like the thing they’re wanting, you need to give it up – first thing in the morning, when they’re back.’
Gardo ate with us. He often did, just as I often ate with him and his uncle. I spent the night at his, just as he spent the night at ours – I’d wake up forgetting which place I was in and who was under the blanket with me. Anyway, just as we finished, the police car came back, big and black, and drove right out of the gates.
We watched it go.
I couldn’t believe Auntie had said what she said. I knew she’d had problems with the police before, on account of my father, and I guess she had some feeling, even then, that things were going to get complicated. I think she wanted to stop it all there, all at once – but I still say she was wrong. It was one