Living on Hope Street

by Demet Divaroren

  The other day, just when Mr Bailey was about to retire from his post at the window, they did the thing that made him drop his binoculars on his toes.

  It was afternoon and the woman was peeling the husk off corncobs in the kitchen. She hacked the corn until the kernels fell off like teeth. Smoke from a frying pan swelled around her. She closed her eyes and waved the smoke with her fingers. Fear leapt into him, as he’d seen similar voodoo rituals in movies. At this point, Mr Bailey still had a strong grip on his binoculars, even when the woman pounded the corn kernels in a stone bowl and her arms shook with the violence. When the sun turned golden, he took a moment to appreciate it melting into the sky. Then, as if alerted by the sun, the woman’s family filed into the kitchen and it became so cramped that Mr Bailey couldn’t tell where one body ended and another began. The man kissed the woman on the forehead. The kids, a girl and a boy, placed a red rug on the floor, and they all sat around a large silver tray swimming with food. Like a bloody picnic! That’s when the binoculars slipped from his hands.

  He picked them up and resumed watching. The family used no bowls, no cutlery, nothing! Their hands dipped in and out and their fingers dripped with some kind of gravy. He had inched closer to the window and it was then that he noticed the soles of their big bare feet. They were pink! Pink under all that black.

  Mr Bailey finished the last bite of his apple pie. The dog flap moved and in came Sunshine carrying the rain inside. Water trailed down his short legs and for a moment he cowered by the door. Sunshine was easily spooked and it made Mr Bailey’s heart ache to imagine what the poor terrier had been through before they adopted him a year ago.

  ‘You silly sausage,’ said Mrs Bailey. ‘Come here, let’s get you cleaned up!’ She wrapped Sunshine in a towel and giggled as his tongue lapped her face.

  Mr Bailey wondered where Sunshine had been. This dog could not be confined. He was usually with Sam from the noisy house. Mr Bailey disliked violence, especially after Vietnam, and the domestic kind boggled his mind. Weren’t people supposed to hide their dirty laundry? He pushed back his chair and placed his empty plate in the sink. He drank a glass of water to wash the sweetness from his gums. The taste of mud filled his mouth and he spat into the sink.

  ‘What is it, dear?’ his wife said, rushing to his side.

  Mr Bailey inspected the water in the glass. ‘It’s murky,’ he said, his hands shaking. ‘It’s murky …’

  Mrs Bailey removed the glass from his hands. ‘It’s okay, it’s clear, I promise. See?’ She held it up to the light and Mr Bailey rubbed his eyes until the water appeared transparent again.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he mumbled. ‘A trick of the eye.’ He kissed his wife, whose lips were still honey-sweet, and went to lock the windows and doors.

  The emergency ward stank of antiseptic, stronger than the kind they used in the first-aid room at school. The place was moaning and whispering as though everybody was in on a secret.

  A man was yelling next door to Mum’s cubicle like his insides were spilling out.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ Mum said. Her face was crushed. A bandage covered her nose, holding it in place.

  ‘And you should?’ Dad had stolen her smile, replaced it with swollen lips. I breathed slow and heavy to still the shaking. ‘We should get you a membership or something.’

  She winced. ‘How’s Sam?’

  ‘Safe,’ I said, looking away from the bruises on her cheekbones. I’d seen boxers with less damage. ‘When are they letting you out?’

  ‘Should only be a few hours. Waiting on some X-ray results to check for rib damage.’

  ‘And your hand?’

  ‘Six or so weeks for the plaster to come off.’

  Six weeks. I imagined breaking Dad to pieces but it didn’t take away the anger like a real punch would. ‘What if they keep you longer?’

  ‘Look at this place. They can’t wait to get rid of people to empty the beds. I’m coming home, Kane.’

  ‘This time.’ I moved closer to the bed. ‘What if he kills you, Mum? Huh? Then what?’

  ‘He won’t. He may be weak and sick but he—’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ I said, the anger clawing at my throat. ‘Don’t you dare defend him.’

  She opened and closed her mouth as if to speak but her shoulders stooped like an old person’s.

  ‘DHS is snooping around like a pack of dogs. If he kills you then we’re history. They’ll chuck us in foster homes, Mum.’

  ‘That will never happen again,’ she said, her voice small. ‘It was before Mrs Aslan—’

  ‘It will if you’re dead!’ When I was a kid, Dad pushed Mum when she was pregnant with Sam, and she fell on her stomach. She was in hospital for a few days and they took me away, tossed me in a foster home like I was garbage. I blinked away the memories till my eyes blurred. I ended up in another kid’s family; they had rules and chores in exchange for bed and food, and looked at me the way people look at the disabled. My anger grew and bled inside even after Mum got out and I went back home. ‘Sam won’t survive foster care.’

  She cried, shaking her head, her eyes like a caged animal’s. ‘Kane, I’ve got no choice—’

  ‘Press charges.’

  She went whiter than the sheet that was trembling in her good hand.

  ‘Press charges, Mum.’

  ‘He’ll kill you both.’ She choked on her tears and they wet the bandage. ‘I can’t take that risk—’

  ‘Bullshit!’

  ‘I can’t let him hurt my babies.’ That blank look filled her eyes. ‘He said he would,’ she mumbled. ‘Why do you think I got the assault charges dropped last time?’

  ‘He can’t do shit. Not if I kill him first.’ The words brought Mum back and her eyes were wide, like she was trying to fit me in.

  A nurse popped her head inside. ‘Is everything okay in here?’

  ‘Yes.’ I said. ‘Can’t we have privacy?’

  ‘You’re distressing the patient,’ she said, staring at Mum.

  ‘Kane, don’t be stupid, you hear me—’

  ‘The patient’s my mum, okay? And I’m not leaving without her.’

  ‘We’re still running some tests,’ said the nurse, walking in and putting an arm around Mum, who looked strangled. ‘She’s in good hands here. Go home. There’s no point in you waiting.’

  ‘Kane, stop it! You’re not like him!’

  Mum’s voice broke and I hurried down the corridor, crashing into a wheelie tray of bandages, which scattered like streamers onto the floor.

  Emergency. The word was big and hung off the wall in case anyone missed it. Like you could miss this place. I sat on a cold bench near the entrance. The air chilled my lungs but my head still raged. Mum was broken. It wasn’t just her face but her spirit that took a beating each time. She had fight in her once. She used to hit Dad back. Now she was a punching bag.

  I wasn’t.

  My knuckles scraped the metal bench.

  ‘Mate, aren’t you cold in that T-shirt?’ A guy sat next to me, sucking a cigarette. A ball of smoke hit me in the face.

  ‘Obviously not.’

  His eyebrow shot up. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘have a drag, it might help.’

  ‘Help what?’ I took a puff and it turned my breath into ash.

  ‘Whatever’s got your face all twisted. Chill, kid.’ He stretched out his legs and his trackies reached his ankles. He wore white socks and open slippers like a European.

  Chill. Like it was so easy. My problem was twice my size and he had a mean left hook. I gave the cigarette back. The wind picked up and found its way into the hole in my shoes. Nikes. Dad’s present two years ago. ‘For my boy,’ he’d said, until he was pissed again and he called me a piece of shit like Mum.

  ‘Do you have someone inside?’ the guy said.

  ‘Nah, mate, I like to come and hang out at hospitals at night for fun.’ Was this guy for real?

  He laughed. ‘Yeah, fair enough. Stupid question.’ He zipped up his blue par
achute jacket. ‘My wife’s inside. Got herself a deep cut from a chopping knife. I swear she might bleed to death before anyone has a look. It’s a joke in there.’

  It was a joke out here too. A car pulled up at the entrance and a woman rushed out holding a kid. He was screaming as if he was being hacked to pieces. This place was a dumping ground for the desperate.

  ‘You’re a man of few words, hey? Yeah, yeah, I respect that.’

  If it wasn’t for the ciggie, I’d have told this guy where to go. Like I gave a shit about his respect. Mum was battered in a hospital bed and any minute now Dad would ignore whatever order the cops gave him and crawl back here for forgiveness, blame the booze, cry and kiss Mum’s feet, like he did last year.

  The guy passed me the ciggie and I took a slow drag this time. It was stronger than Mum’s brand and roasted my throat.

  ‘Ever feel like you’re sinking in quicksand?’ he said. ‘And there’s people all around you but no one sees you to help?’

  I sucked the last bit of the ciggie till it burned the tips of my fingers.

  ‘That’s what marriage feels like.’ He laughed till his body rocked and he wiped spit from his mouth. ‘Just trying to make you laugh, mate.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, butting the cigarette on the side of the bench.

  ‘No problem. Here.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’ll throw it out on my way in. Better get back before the missus misses me.’ He winked. ‘See what I did there?’ He got up and walked off, his slippers dragging on the ground.

  The noise grated my skin like it did when I was in foster care. It was my duty to sweep the kitchen every night after dinner and they made me do it again if they found a crumb. One night I swept the kitchen three times. They believed in doing things properly, like it was proper to give a kid a broom so big it kept slipping out of his hands and smacking him in the head. They were properly anal. So was their kid. I shared a room with him and he kept licking the snot from his top lip like a cow. ‘Dad says you’re coming to church too,’ he’d whisper at night. ‘So we can pray for your soul because it’s corrupt like your dad’s.’ God help him if I ever saw him now. I’d shove my fist so far down his throat it would come out of his arse.

  An ambulance siren went off in the distance. My stomach rumbled. Should’ve had the spaghetti at Mrs Aslan’s when I had the chance. Sam dug in before I tucked him into bed. He’d be asleep, safe from Dad.

  For now.

  I was going to make sure it stayed that way.

  Kane said he’s gonna kill Dad. I peed my pants thinking about it – if he did, then Kane would go to jail. Mum would be so sad and cry like she did when Dad was mean. Once she cried so much I was scared she was gonna die from being sad. Kane said emotions don’t kill, but he got sad too.

  ‘Eww, Miss, Sam pissed himself again!’

  Miss Bree looked upset. Her eyes were squinting. She put Tayla in charge of class and took me outside. Her hand was soft like Mum’s. She walked me to school sometimes when Dad was gone.

  ‘Sam, what did we talk about?’ Miss said, kneeling so I had to look in her eyes.

  I kept quiet coz Kane told me to. No mention of Dad and his hitting, he said, or of Mum in hospital being patched up.

  ‘Is there anything you want to talk about, Sam?’ Her eyes were pretty and her top was stretching coz of her boobs.

  ‘No, Miss. Sorry, Miss.’ My eyes were watery, and I tried to keep the tears in like Kane did when he scrunched up his face.

  ‘It’s alright,’ she said, ‘but I need to speak to your mum, okay?’

  I nodded but coldness made my teeth shake like when Dad screamed about the bills and broke plates. Mum called him the clumsy magician, laughed and winked at me, but Dad wasn’t funny.

  ‘Let’s get you cleaned up, Sam.’

  We walked to the sick bay and my crying came. Mum was too sore to talk, Miss was gonna find out and I was gonna be taken away.

  Miss got me blue pants from lost property. They were big and she put a pin in them so they wouldn’t fall off. I didn’t wear undies coz there were none spare. The piss didn’t touch my Ninja Turtles top so I was allowed to wear it. Kane got it for my birthday. He wore it on his head and tied the sleeves under his chin, copying Mrs Aslan’s scarfs. She wore it coz she was old, Mum said. She took it off at her house and her hair was black and white and short. Mum’s hair glowed when the sun was shining on it and I put my fingers over it till she got the giggles.

  Mrs Aslan was like Mary Poppins but bigger. She had huge arms, like cushions. She didn’t have a magic bag or umbrella, but she sang. I didn’t understand the words coz it was in her language but it chased away the sirens in my head when she put me to bed last night. She packed my playlunch with chips and Prima and fruit and chocolate like the ones Mum promised to buy. Kane went to see Mum at the hospital to take her my kisses but he tucked me in first. He did that funny face that made his nose bigger and made Mrs Aslan laugh. He promised he’d be back by morning.

  He didn’t come.

  At playtime I sat by myself coz kids laughed and held their noses after I had accidents. Kane said to ignore them, that all we needed was each other and they could go stuff themselves. I never told him about the punches.

  My piss felt tight again and I hit my head so it wouldn’t come out. I ate one chocolate and it melted in my mouth and I wished it was bigger and never-ending, like the lolly in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

  ‘Hey, Stinky Sam,’ said Bad Bill.

  My heart got big and fast. He was with Jay and Ted. They held me down when Bad Bill did the punching.

  ‘Can’t keep your piss in, Stinky?’

  I looked at his shoes, shiny black with laces. Not as shiny as Dad’s after he polished with the can. He got it on his hands all the time and got angry at Mum when it made his tops dirty.

  ‘Whose pants you wearing, huh? You reject.’

  The chocolate taste was gone and I tried to bring it back by licking my lips and swallowing.

  ‘Reject! Reject!’ Jay and Ted screamed and Bad Bill hit my arms so I dropped my lunchbox. He stepped on Mrs Aslan’s chips and they crunched on the floor. Then he threw the Prima so it popped and the juice splashed on the wall.

  I counted to ten, to make them go away.

  ‘Take off your pants, you reject. They’re not yours!’

  My breathing got fast.

  Bad Bill and Jay and Ted pulled me up and tried to take off my pants till the pin popped and Bad Bill punched my stomach. I held my pants coz I didn’t want them to fall and prayed that Bad Bill would disappear forever.

  ‘Hey! Get off him!’ Miss Bree said. ‘You three to the principal’s office right now!’

  ‘But we didn’t do nothing. We were just mucking around—’

  ‘I said now, Bill.’

  They went away and Miss sat next to me, held my hand. ‘Sam, are you okay?’

  I nodded and wiped my nose on my sleeve so Miss wouldn’t see the snot.

  ‘I need you to talk to me, Sam. I can’t help you otherwise. Are you hurt?’

  ‘No.’ I held my pants and couldn’t find the pin. Miss saw it on the ground. She leaned down and picked it up and her hair smell was so close it went up my nose. Miss smelled like flowers with big and colourful leaves.

  ‘Here, I’ll fix it.’ She put the pin back on my pants. When she smiled her cheeks wobbled. ‘What’s going on with you, Sam?’

  My tummy rumbled and Miss helped me pick up my lunchbox. Only Mrs Aslan’s chocolate was left. It was a red and shiny ball. My sandwich was squashed but I blew on it, and wiped the dirt away with my sleeve.

  ‘I’ll get you a new sandwich,’ Miss said, but I shook my head.

  ‘Okay, Sam. If you won’t speak to me, it will have to be Mrs Fuller.’ She got up. ‘Don’t worry, the boys will be punished. They won’t give you a hard time again.’

  She touched my head and walked away.

  Dad got punished too, but he didn’t stop. What if Kane punished Dad like he s
aid, and then the police punished him?

  My heart hurt again and I counted my breaths coz sometimes that helped. I opened the wrapper and the chocolate taste made my eyes close but Bad Bill’s punch was starting to burn.

  The morning after Angie go to hospital, I make Sam breakfast. He like eggs scrambled and eat with simit, sesame bread. I wash him, make butter and Vegemite sandwich for his lunch. He like Vegemite brown, not black on bread. Ada, she like sandwich with Nutella.

  ‘But I don’t wanna go,’ Sam say, face shiny from crying. His eyes blue like nazar boncuk I put in house to make evil eye go away. ‘Kane didn’t come back! Where’s Kane?’

  ‘Tsk! Maybe Kane stay with you mum at hospital. You no worry, my Sam, he will come.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t?’

  ‘Then I find him. But now you go school. Everything be okay. Hadi.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’ I kiss his head. ‘You wait for me inside school when it finish and no move from there.’

  ‘Okay,’ he say, his small hand squeeze mine.

  After I take Sam to school, I go his house but Kane not there. I look through window but inside is too dark. At home, I call hospital to talk to Angie but nurse say she sleeping. I ask if she okay, if she be out today but the nurse say nothing. What if something happen to Angie? How I protect the boys from their dad? Tsk. I touch wood to stop bad thought. I pray to Allah to keep Angie safe and keep Kane with the fire-heart far from trouble.

  I go to kitchen to make Ada’s favourite börek. This morning, Mr Aslan come to me in dream. He have wings and he smile and say to me, ‘Go to them, they need you,’ and I wake up with a butterfly heart. Today I gonna go to Meryem house, leave börek at door. She at work, Ada at school but when she see börek maybe she forgive? Yes, I do this, take börek and tomorrow night I go their house, knock on door and say sorry to Meryem, say I love her, I miss Ada.

  Ada like börek with meat and onion and extra cheese. I make it with tears and love. For seven years I not see Ada. I watch her sometimes from behind tree on street next to her house. My legs scared to take me to the door. Every time I want to run to them I remember Meryem words when we have fight and it feel like ground open up and trap my feet! So I watch Ada and Meryem like a movie. Ada grow from girl to teenager. I miss her so much it hurt my body. Ada tall now, her hair black. She cut it short like a boy. Years become mountain between us. My tears fall in the börek and my hands shake so much I drop the cheese!