Hellogon

by John Booth

  “I am sorry, my friend. I was assured it was genuine.”

  Solly nodded and took out a large white envelope from his jacket. “Get these two crates onto my lorry and dispose of the other one. I’ll pay you for three as I’ve already drawn out the cash we agreed. You’ll owe me one when you make the next delivery.”

  Jeroen nodded and counted the cash. When he was sure it was correct he gave instructions in Dutch to his men and they used the forklift truck to move the crates.

  Solly started to walk off the dock and Peter followed. He took Peter to a side gate, which a guard opened and they stepped out onto a road. An old transport café stood on the other side of the road and Solly bought them both a plate of sausage, fried egg and chips along with a large mug of instant coffee made with hot milk.

  They sat at a rickety table and ate their dinner while watching the seagulls scavenge for scraps outside. The sausages had burnt skins but tasted delicious. The milky coffee seemed to warm Peter’s body right down to his toes. They didn’t talk much while eating, but afterwards Peter felt he had to ask Solly what was going on.

  “Do all the crates contain gargoyles?”

  Solly winced, as though Peter had spoken a foul word out loud. “Call them Grimms, Peter. Gargoyle’s such an ugly word. Yes, the other crates are filled with Grimms.”

  “Why do you collect them?”

  “I can’t tell you until after your eighteenth birthday. Let’s just say they can be useful and leave it at that.” Solly’s answer made it clear Peter should drop the subject.

  “When you knew my father, what did you do together?”

  “We used to fly a lot,” Solly said and laughed.

  “Fly? You mean in aircraft?”

  Solly spoke as though trying to cover up an earlier mistake, “What I meant was we used to fly model planes, and kites, and things like that. Your father was brilliant at flying and I was pretty good too.”

  “Was that here, in the city?”

  “No, we both grew up somewhere else and didn’t come here until we were adults. The same age you will be on Saturday. Your father loved this place, far more than where we grew up. For him, this was paradise and he could ignore all his duties back home. He had talents that were valuable here and when the Establishment discovered him, they conscripted him into their games. They were so much simpler and easier than the games back home. Then he met your mother and I never saw him again.” Solly’s face took on a distant look as he remembered. Peter wished he could have known Solly and his father as they were when they were young men.

  “Do you have any photographs of the two of you?” Peter asked wistfully.

  “Cameras don’t work where we grew up,” Solly said. Then, as if realising he had said too much, he told Peter they should get back to work.

  When they got back to the lorry, they found the crates had been loaded. Solly tied them down and fastened a tarpaulin over them. They drove back in silence. Peter was still fascinated by the things he had seen and he didn’t feel the need to talk.

  Back at the loading bay, Solly gave Peter forty pounds and told him to be back at the shop tomorrow at nine sharp. Peter asked if he could help with moving the crates as he fancied having a go with the fork lift, but Solly told him he could do it by himself.

  It was barely four o’clock in the afternoon when Peter got back to the flat. He sat down on his bed and considered his options. He was going to make a serious attempt to find Sal that night, whatever his mum thought about him going out.

  Chapter Ten

  St Bruno’s Garden

  When Mel arrived home at half past six that evening, she seemed subdued. Peter wondered what was up and asked if everything was well. She assured him she still loved the job and everything was fine. She’d been put in charge of tracking packages around the world. The company apparently made its money by buying goods where they were cheap and selling them where they were expensive.

  “What’s upsetting you?” Peter finally asked.

  “They want me to work this Saturday.” Mel said guiltily.

  “What’s the problem with that?” Peter asked, confused by her answer. “Don’t you want to do it?”

  “Yes, I do. They’ve offered me lots of money, ‘cash in hand’ if I help them out, and we really do need the money…”

  “So what’s the problem?” Peter asked, exasperated with his Mum.

  “Peter, it’s your eighteenth birthday on Saturday and they want me to work into the evening. You’ll probably be in bed by the time I get home.” Mel looked upset.

  “It’s only a birthday, Mum. I’ll be eighteen on Sunday as well. If you want to do the work, you should do it. I can manage on my own.”

  Reaching the age of eighteen was a big deal in the Establishment, as it meant you could be sent on assignment. However, after Jeremy’s eighteenth birthday party, Peter had gone off the whole idea of a special celebration and planned on ignoring the event, or at most going out for a meal with his mum.

  “You really don’t mind, Peter?” Mel asked anxiously.

  Peter leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead. In the last year or so, he’d grown tall enough to have to bend down to do it. “I’ll be fine, Mum, believe me. You go off to work and enjoy yourself.”

  At half past nine, Peter told his mother he was going out for a walk and maybe have a coffee at a local café. He told her he liked walking around the city at night. The city streets were so much more alive than in the village where the only people you ever saw were security patrols or the guards at the gates.

  Mel instructed him to be careful and not be back too late. She said she’d be in bed by eleven, and he shouldn’t wake her if he came in later.

  Peter stepped out into a balmy summer’s evening. The sun had set behind the buildings, though it still appeared blindingly low in the sky when he walked roads to the west. Even though he got the impression from Bert in the café that Sal wasn’t likely to appear until after sunset he decided to go for a coffee anyway. He planned to walk around to familiarise himself with the streets, lanes and alleys in the area, so he wouldn’t get lost in future. That was Rule Six.

  Bert wasn’t serving when he got there. An unfriendly looking man with a permanent scowl on his face served behind the counter. When Peter asked for a latte the man appeared put-out and it took him quite a while to get the coffee into the holder and lock the holder to the machine. The man cursed when he burnt his fingers on the steamer nozzle. All in all, Peter was glad when he left the counter with his mug and sat down.

  It was dark by the time he finished his coffee, though not dark enough for all the cars to have put on their headlights. Looking out of the window he was occasionally blinded by the odd car with its headlights on.

  When he got up to leave, he heard the man behind the counter grunt in satisfaction. Peter walked to the door and stepped onto the pavement.

  “Peter!” Sal’s voice shouted and he looked up and down the street twice before he saw her rushing to greet him. There were enough pedestrians for her to have to duck and weave round them to get to him.

  “Hi Sal. I was hoping I’d see you tonight.” Peter told her when she collided into him. He noticed she looked refreshed and happy. She was still dressed as a Goth with all the Goth make-up, but she wore different clothes from the ones she had on last time. They were much cleaner than the last lot. Her make-up looked crisp and freshly applied.

  “Later.” Sal started to drag him across the street.

  “Where are we going?” Drivers sounded their horns as they stumbled across the busy road.

  “St Bruno’s,” Sal said by way of explanation. Peter thought it unlikely she meant a church, though it was the first thought to occur to him. He decided to concentrate on surviving the journey as Sal dragged him to wherever she wanted to go.

  Sal took him down alleys and around the backs of shops. Peter wasn’t surprised, as this seemed to be her normal mode of getting anywhere. They appeared to be going on a circuitou
s path rather than the straightest route.

  Peter noted that Sal kept checking behind her as though looking for someone or something. She speeded up whenever they turned a corner and ran for the next alley before slowing down once they were safely in it. To his Establishment trained mind, this suggested Sal thought they were being followed, and she was trying to make sure she lost their tail before heading to their destination.

  Peter was certain that if Sal had been followed earlier she must have lost them before she met him. No one was currently following them or he would have seen them.

  After another set of unnecessary trips down alleys, Sal turned onto a narrow path between a church and a block of residential flats. They walked through a tiny graveyard and then through a children’s playground. Large trees growing in the graveyard spread branches covering the sky above them, making it much darker than the streets.

  They arrived at a set of railings with a small gate enclosing a tiny garden. The garden had a path that twisted around shrubs, trees and flowers. At the bottom of the path, in the middle of the garden they found a large wooden bench. Sal dropped down on it gratefully and pulled Peter after her.

  The garden was a quiet and private place. Earth had been banked up behind the bench and at its summit a holly bush spread its branches over them. In front of the bench a wide bush acted as a screen. There were trees to either side whose branches spread high over the path making it into a tunnel.

  Sal turned to Peter and planted a lingering kiss on his mouth. “That’s for lending me the twenty. I really needed it.” Sal looked at Peter. “Close your mouth, Peter, there are flies about around here.”

  Peter closed his mouth and tried to think of a witty reply. “You’re looking much fresher than the last time I saw you.” Peter realised Sal might not take this as a compliment as soon as the words left his mouth. He tried to correct himself. “Which isn’t to say you didn’t look fantastic before. It’s just, you look even better now.”

  He might have continued but Sal burst out laughing. “You’re not very good with girls, are you? Look, I’m sorry we had to do all that running around, but I risked going home last night. Dad was really glad to see me and I got the chance to have a bath and change clothes. I was worried about any of the players finding me, but when I came out tonight I saw Gaz and his posse and they started chasing me. I think I lost them before I found you, but it’s best to be sure.”

  Peter laughed in delight. “That’s Rule 2.”

  It was Sal’s turn to look confused. “What?”

  “The Establishment Survival Guide. The first things I had to learn off by heart when I started school. Rule One is never gamble unless you have no choice. Rule Two is always make sure, Rule Three is discover the local politics.” Peter stopped, as Rule Four was make friends and use them, and he didn’t want Sal to get the wrong idea.

  “You went to a really strange school, Peter.” Sal gave him an appraising look.

  “Actually, I’ve had a really strange life.”

  “Actually, I’ve had a really strange life. That’s so crump.” Gaz’s sneering voice drifted out of the dark. A few seconds later he stepped into sight. “Thought you’d come here, bitch, and you’ve brought the fudge with you. Two for one sale, innit?”

  Sal started to rise from the bench when Kay and Col came into view from the other end of the path. They were trapped.

  “I don’t want no trouble with you, Gaz.” Sal said.

  “Bit too late for that. I’m going to slit your slit,” Gaz pulled a decorators knife out of his pocket and stepped forward.

  Peter looked over the three youths with interest. Col and Kay brought out long kitchen knives from inside their hoodies. Of the two of them, Peter rated Kay as the significant threat. Col was far too nervous to be truly dangerous, but there was a glint in Kay’s eyes suggesting she got off on violence and was no stranger to it. Peter had already fought and defeated Gaz, but Gaz had been off guard and never managed to get his act back together once it started going wrong for him.

  This time it would be different, Gaz was fully psyched up and held his knife professionally. Peter noted Gaz’s hand was rock steady and he was up on his toes. In Peter’s opinion, Gaz had used a knife before and possibly killed with it.

  Peter carried out his assessments in seconds and he responded to Gaz’s boast without any noticeable delay.

  “Well I DO want trouble with you, Gaz Dixon, with you Kay Smeddly and you too Colin Harris. I don’t think you can handle the trouble I’m going to cause.” Peter flexed his muscles without making it too obvious. He needed to warm up before he started to fight, but he didn’t want the three to know in case they were bright enough to respond early. He used his stance to push and pull his muscles into full life.

  Sal thought Peter had gone crazy. She knew Gaz better than to believe such a naïve bluff was going to scare him off. They were outnumbered and out-armed. Their only survival option was to try to run away.

  Peter pushed Sal back onto the bench. “Stay there and out of it!” Peter ordered, taking her by surprise. Sal pulled her legs up onto the bench, hugging them, terrified of Gaz, and a little cowed by Peter’s tone.

  Peter noted Kay and Col weren’t moving forwards. Their role was to stop them escaping. This was good news, as it’s very difficult to predict where an amateur might strike with a knife. If they are attacking from behind, it gets even worse to take appropriate action. No doubt, Kay would attack him when she saw Gaz in trouble, but by then it would be too late.

  Gaz grinned as Peter advanced. He knew Peter had some training in martial arts but he also knew such training was no good against an experienced street fighter. Martial arts people didn’t play dirty, while Gaz did.

  Peter didn’t take up a karate pose or any of the other fighting stances he knew. He had seen Gaz react, and knew his own speed was far greater than Gaz’s. That difference in reaction time would be his primary weapon, as he was unable to use any killing stroke against Gaz if he wanted to stay out of prison.

  When they were two feet away from each other, Gaz lashed out with the knife, slashing across Peter’s face. It was a feint, so he could kick Peter’s legs out from under him when Peter stepped back. Peter moved his head exactly two inches out of the way and hopped sideways as Gaz’s kicked at his legs.

  With nothing to kill the momentum as his kick missed, Gaz fell backwards. As soon as Gaz’s knife passed his face, Peter stepped forward and pushed Gaz in the chest with the flat of his hand. This sent Gaz flying backward to crash hard on the stone path.

  Peter took three steps forward stepping onto the wrist of the hand holding the knife and putting the whole of his body weight on it. He twisted the toe of his shoe and heard the bones in Gaz’s wrist break. The knife fell from Gaz’s spasming fingers. Peter stepped forward and spun around, positioning himself behind Gaz. He kicked the knife into the bushes.

  Kay ran forward when she saw Gaz lying semi-conscious on the ground. However, she fell flat on her face as Sal stuck her foot out. Her knife flew from her hands and Peter had to jump forward to kick it away in mid air. It had been heading straight for Gaz and might have hit him.

  Col dithered, still doing his job of blocking their escape route. Kay screamed on the ground, having broken her nose and badly scraped her knees. Gaz rolled in agony, holding his wrist. Peter stepped around Kay’s writhing body and walked towards Sal. From Col’s point of view, it looked as though Peter was coming for him. Col dropped the knife and ran for his life.

  “Sorry about all that,” Peter said as he helped Sal up from the bench. “I don’t seem to be able to get on with your friends. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

  Sal pulled Peter to her and gave him another kiss. This one was long and lingering and involved putting her tongue gently into his mouth.

  While Sal was kissing him, Peter adjusted his jeans. Sal noticed his lack of concentration and her hand joined his. She pulled away from him laughing.

  “My, you are pl
eased to see me, aren’t you? Race you back to the café!” Sal ran off laughing down the path. Peter looked to check Gaz and Kay were going to be able to call for an ambulance. Kay was already sitting up and held a mobile phone in her hands as blood dripped from her nose.

  Peter ran after Sal. This evening was proving to be even more fun than he hoped.

  Chapter Eleven

  Experiences

  Peter lay in bed the next morning and reviewed the last part of the evening in his mind. He wondered whether anything so wonderful would ever happen to him again.

  He had caught up with Sal halfway to the café and the two of them had laughed and joked as they walked down the back streets to The Battle Café. Even the surly nature of the man behind the counter didn’t put them off as they discussed the fight and their lives.

  Sal talked about the people she knew from school and the effect the death of her mother had on her and her father when she was seven. She told Peter her father ended his career after her mother’s death, and came to live permanently in the city to bring her up. She told a lot of funny stories of things that happened in her school. To Peter it was like hearing about a foreign country as his own school life had been disciplined and controlled.

  Peter told Sal about hearing about the death of his father and about his best friend Jeremy. He couldn’t bear to tell her about what actually happened to him and told her Jeremy had died in an accident some weeks before. Sal held his hand tightly after he told her. She could see the tears glistening in the corner of his eyes.

  It was past one o’clock in the morning when Sal said it was time for her to go, but first he must come with her, as there was something she wanted to give him. The two ran down the street laughing, Sal swinging on every lamppost they passed. She took him to a alleyway where a low wattage bulb on the top of a metal post provided a little light.