Living on Hope Street

by Demet Divaroren

  My hands burned and I let go of him, stepped back from his stench. ‘Touch him again or blab to anyone and you’re finished. Got it?’

  He fell to the ground and sat in his piss, his pants filthy with dirt and bark. He nodded and buried his head between his knees.

  I bolted the hell out of there, far away from his sobbing, his piss and shame, from the eyes that pierced my back.

  Run run run. Nowhere to go.

  Legs heavy, knuckles stinging, not enough air to breathe.

  *

  The building had white blinds and half-peeled posters on one side of the wall. I gulped in the smell of kebab from the takeaway shop a few doors down to get rid of Bad Bill’s stench. It was stuck to me like glue.

  I dropped to the ground in front of the building. It looked sad and worn, not like the rows of homes across the road with picket fences and neat gardens. I leaned against the wall. Inside the building, behind the grimy door, there was a kitchen with a crate full of fruit and veggies, bread, vegemite, butter, biscuits, milk, tea and coffee. Triple what we had at home every month. I saw the goods when me, Mum and the school coordinator came here for an ‘intake’ meeting last week. ‘Intake’? It was more like ‘inmate’. They called this place a Teaching Space and provided three meals a day. They set goals for me for the next few weeks to improve my marks by improving my attitude. They were full of that shit, as if words changed anything. They asked me what I wanted to achieve and I said muscles and the tall teacher with the pointy nose laughed and said he could help, that’s what they do here, work with student interests to improve school work, boost skills and self-esteem. What a joke.

  Mum said I had nothing to lose, that I was ‘good’ and ‘smart’. ‘Sam looks up to you, Kane. Help him get better. Do it for your brother.’

  It was already midday. My fingers were cold when I walked inside; the door creaked closed behind me. It was quiet except for the chatter upstairs where they had classes. The timetable here was different from the one at school: art, reading, goal-setting, health, sport. A bludge. I didn’t care either way. There was a billiard table in the lounge and I smashed the balls around before going to the kitchen. The smell of cinnamon made my mouth water and I buttered two slices of raisin bread without bothering to toast it.

  ‘You made it,’ said the tall bloke with the nose.

  ‘Yeah, for lunch.’

  ‘You missed first class yesterday. We went on an excursion into the city.’

  ‘Was busy.’

  ‘Ah, working on the muscles?’

  ‘Seriously, dude, what would you know about fitness? Your stomach’s so big it’s about to explode.’

  ‘A comedian.’ His nose twitched and he crossed his arms. ‘Look, Kane, I don’t mind humour, in fact I encourage it, but there are lines. We don’t bully here.’

  I shoved the bread in my mouth.

  ‘If you’re absent or late again with no note, we’ll need a recommitment meeting with your mother and school coordinator.’ His eyebrows shot up.

  ‘Can’t wait.’ I felt sorry for his kids. He probably lectured them every day like this.

  He leaned his big, spidery hands on the bench top. His fingers weren’t hairy; not like Dad’s, whose knuckles were thick like chains.

  ‘What have you got to lose?’ he said.

  I stabbed the butter with a knife, put a slice of banana bread in my pocket.

  ‘Just give it a go, Kane. Turn up.’

  He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. ‘By the way,’ he said, ‘if you want muscles, start with your core. That’s where the strength is.’

  I finished the second piece of bread in two bites and sat in front of a computer near the billiard table. There were three computers and they were so old they belonged in a museum. The screens were thick and the grey keyboards were stained with black dirt. I faced the lounge, picked at the banana bread in my pocket. There was a rush of footsteps down the stairs and four other kids bolted to the kitchen.

  One kid looked like a Year Seven and ate his nails for lunch. His head was hidden inside a yellow hood. Two boys started a game of billiards and one tapped the ball closer to the hole when the other wasn’t looking. Mr Fitness saw and gave him a warning. The guy was like a hawk.

  ‘Hi,’ a girl said, sitting next to me. Her leg brushed mine and I moved it away. ‘You new?’ she said.

  ‘Casual.’

  She laughed. ‘You didn’t miss much. Reading this morning, homework, then Health.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I don’t need advice in that department.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  What the hell did that mean? Her eyes wandered from my face to my chest and the room got stuffy like they cranked up the heater. I had no time for this shit. Girls were from another planet. Especially Mrs Aslan’s wannabe punk granddaughter who’d been sulking on the porch for the past week. Her nose was so far up in the air it was a bloody miracle her neck didn’t snap. I got up but she grabbed my hand. ‘Stay,’ she said.

  My palm was sweaty and I pulled it away.

  ‘Do you have somewhere else to go?’ A green stud poked out of her bottom lip.

  Mr Fitness eyed me from the table and I sat back down.

  She ate a cheese and lettuce sandwich and a blob of tomato sauce dripped on her fingers. She licked it off. ‘I’m Joy.’ She stretched out her hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘I’m not touching that.’

  She laughed and her eyes sparkled.

  ‘They teach you that in Health?’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, after the bit about healthy relationships there’s a topic called “How to turn guys off”.’

  I shook my head. ‘You’re a real joy, huh? Bet your parents are proud.’

  ‘My parent is an idiot.’ Her eyes went dull. ‘My stepdad …’ She shook her head. ‘His idea of a healthy relationship is screaming so close to my face that I can see bits of his dinner in his teeth.’ She cracked her knuckles, one, two, three, and rocked in her seat like Sam did when he was about to freak out.

  ‘You okay?’

  She leaned back, stilled her hands. ‘My psych says it’s because of nerves.’ She smiled. ‘Dancing helps me escape, you know?’

  ‘Nah, I don’t dance—’

  She smiled and shook her head. What the hell was so funny? This place was a nut house. The girls at school were half normal at least, topping up their make-up, fixing their hair and laughing at jokes. They didn’t go around spilling their guts about their lives. They were tough like that. I wanted to tell this girl I had enough problems and I didn’t give a shit about hers, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  She fingered the rip in her red stocking. Her nails were painted black and the polish had chipped on most of them. ‘What do you do then? Besides being really good at conversation.’

  A kid stood next to the fruit bowl. He peeled a mandarin in two seconds flat and chucked half of it into his mouth, the juice dribbling down his chin.

  ‘Look, you don’t have to talk to me, okay?’ she said. ‘I thought … I just … you seemed different … more real.’ Her eyes pulled me in, daring me to speak.

  ‘You want real? I protect my family, okay? It’s a full-time job.’ I thought about Bad Bill and vomit crept up my throat.

  She touched my bloody knuckles. My heart raced and I folded my arms.

  ‘We have to let go of the things we can’t control,’ she said. ‘That’s what my psych tells me.’

  ‘Let go?’ I shook my head. As if it was that easy. As if things would get better if we just forgot about them. ‘You can’t let go if the shit haunts you every day.’

  ‘You know what I do? I dance.’ She flung her hands out like she’d just finished a performance and was about to bow. ‘And in those minutes nothing exists but me and the music.’

  I fight and fight and fight till my knuckles bleed but nothing ever disappears.

  ‘Anyway, mainstream school’s not for me, you know? I’m enrolling in dance school instead of VCE. N
o matter what my stepdad thinks. I’m going to prove him wrong. I’m not going to be like him.’ There were fireworks in her eyes. ‘At least I can control that.’

  She winked and heat spread inside me like sunshine on a cold day.

  Kane said we were on a secret mission like the Ninja Turtles.

  He was gonna go to special school to beat the baddies and I was gonna go see Mrs Fuller to make the mean people lose. He said my job was the most important coz I was the bravest but Kane was the bravest person in the whole world. He said this secret mission would change things and we both had to bring something back or it wouldn’t work.

  Mrs Fuller had lollies in her office. She loved lollies too coz she ate three. One milk bottle, one banana and one strawberry. Her mouth went funny when she chewed but I didn’t laugh coz Mum said it was rude to laugh at people. She put the bowl close to me and the banana lolly smelled so nice I ate two.

  Mrs Fuller gave me white paper and crayons. They were rainbow colours. I didn’t touch the black one. Black was scary like night when bad things happened.

  ‘Draw a happy place, Sam,’ Mrs Fuller said.

  I touched the marbles in my pocket. I won three more when I played the throwing game with Gugu yesterday. One was red with orange freckles. I had eight now, and I asked Mum if she could buy me some coz there wasn’t a lot left and sometimes we played with stones.

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What colours make you happy?’ Mrs Fuller put green glasses on and got a crayon. ‘Red makes me happy. It’s the colour of strawberries, my favourite fruit.’

  She drew a strawberry and it looked real!

  ‘Do you like the colour red?’

  I shook my head coz red was blood. ‘I like yellow coz it’s like Mum’s hair.’

  ‘Want to show me on the page?’

  I made yellow lines and put a smile on Mum’s face. I drew Kane and me too with sticks and swords like the Ninja Turtles to beat the baddies. I was orange like Michelangelo and Kane was blue like Leonardo. I drew a house with balloons on the roof and put Mum inside away from the baddies. I was laughing coz this was so much fun but then the black clouds came, lots and lots of clouds and I couldn’t see Mum and Kane no more. I cried coz I was lost and the black clouds took me away.

  At lunchtime, me and Gugu played marbles on the grass. Her hair had green beads in it and she smiled lots. I was scared Bad Bill was gonna wreck the game but he sat far away and didn’t look at us.

  After school, Gugu said come to my house to do homework and I ran home to ask Mum. She said of course baby! Gugu’s house smelled like onions and her mum was pretty and had lots of colours on her dress! She had soft hands that went pat pat pat on mine. She made a honey bread snack. It was yum and the bread was soft and made me burp lots. We ate on the floor on a red blanket coz they had no table or couches, just a few chairs next to the fridge. Sicelo ate his food in front of the TV but his mum didn’t get mad like Mum did when Kane spilled his food on the carpet. Gugu said the Salvation Army gave the TV and promised to bring them more things.

  When we did homework in Gugu’s room I asked what bad things happened to her. She told me stories about when the bad men came to her house and burned everything. She said it was okay, her dad was gonna buy more when he had money. I said my dad was bad sometimes and her eyes got funny and her crying fell down onto her homework book.

  ‘Bud, I’m not asking Mr Tupu for his couch!’ I spooned mashed potato on my plate and passed the bowl to Mum.

  ‘But it’s in his garden.’ Sam spoke to the carrots in front of him. ‘He never sits on it and Gugu sits on the floor …’

  ‘We can’t go around asking people for their stuff!’

  His chin wobbled and Mum raised her eyebrows at me.

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. There was no way I was going to knock on a door asking for charity; even if it was for someone else.

  Mum touched Sam’s arm. ‘Maybe we can give Gugu something from our house to start with? How about the small table in my room? Gugu can use it to do homework?’

  His eyes lit up. ‘Really, Mum?’

  She smiled and the bags under her eyes sagged even more. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re the best!’ Sam squirted tomato sauce onto his sausage and crammed half of it into his mouth.

  ‘It’s a great thing to try and help people.’ She kissed his head. ‘Your brother can learn a lot from you.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Maybe Sam can teach you how to cook.’ Sam burst out laughing, spraying his plate with bits of chewed sausage.

  Mum’s bun was lopsided on her head. ‘I’d like to see you cook with one hand.’ She leaned back in her seat. ‘Or even two.’ She grinned like a cat. ‘Starting tomorrow, you’re making dinner.’

  ‘As if.’

  ‘What do you feel like eating tomorrow night, Sam?’ Mum said.

  ‘Lasagne!’

  ‘We don’t have the ingredients.’

  ‘I’ll go to the shops tomorrow,’ Mum said.

  ‘Yeah right, you’ll be knocked out until your next shift.’

  Mum’s eyes hardened and she straightened up. ‘I’m trying my best, Kane.’

  Her hand was blistered and her knuckles were red because of the night job.

  So am I, I wanted to say. It was tiring being switched on all the time, waking up with a rock in my gut in case it was the day Dad would show.

  ‘Mum?’ Sam was staring at us, sauce smearing his mouth.

  ‘We’re okay, honey,’ Mum said, brushing hair out of Sam’s eyes. ‘Mrs Fuller said you’re doing really well with your drawings. She wants to draw with you every week. Isn’t that great, Kane?’

  ‘That’s awesome, bud.’ I nodded to Mum’s arm. ‘I think we can hang Mum’s plaster on the wall once she gets it off. You did a great job!’

  Mum traced the rainbows and balloons Sam had drawn a few days ago.

  ‘I’m not gonna draw no more,’ Sam said, looking at me. ‘You lied, you said you’d bring back something from the special mission but you didn’t.’

  I slapped my forehead! ‘Shit, I just forgot to give it to you! Hang on, buddy.’

  I raced to my bedroom and grabbed the envelope from my jacket pocket. I waved the envelope in the air as I walked back. ‘They made us do this thing at the specia— at ah, my new school. It was in art class and there was this Aboriginal artist who was drawing with chalk, orange, red, green. It was so cool, it reminded me of you. He told us about Aboriginal rock art and that it was thousands of years old. They used to paint with orka—’

  ‘Ochre,’ Mum said.

  ‘Yeah, that. And in caves!’ I made circles over my head with my hands.

  Sam’s eyes were like torches. ‘Cool! Can we go to the caves and see?’

  ‘Nah, bud, they’re far away from here but I got you a super special thing from that adventure.’

  I gave him the envelope.

  Mum got up to see.

  ‘Careful when you open it. Hold it up,’ I said.

  Sam peeked inside. ‘Heeee! It’s a magical colour dust potion!’

  Mum put her hand on her mouth. ‘It’s beautiful, Kane.’ Her eyes got watery and she leaned her head against my shoulder.

  ‘After he finished his drawing, he collected the colours in an envelope and I said to him I knew the perfect person who deserved this.’

  ‘It’s the bestest thing ever!’

  ‘Let’s put it in a jar, Sam.’ He handed Mum the envelope.

  ‘Don’t drop it!’ he said.

  She held on tight and looked around the kitchen.

  ‘Maybe you can show Mrs Fuller, bet she’ll be super impressed,’ I said.

  ‘Your school is the coolest! Kane, please can I come too?’

  ‘Nah, bud, it’s for older kids, but I promise I’ll bring back cool things if you bring me drawings from Mrs Fuller’s class.’

  ‘Promise!’

  Mum got a strawberry jam jar and tried to peel the sticker off. I grab
bed it and took the label off with some water. Mum made the envelope into a cone and poured the colours in and I tightened the lid.

  Sam hugged it to his chest. ‘I can’t wait to show Gugu!’ he said and ran to his room.

  Me and Mum laughed and I took the plates to the sink.

  ‘I’m starting work at nine tonight, Kane,’ Mum said. ‘Mrs Aslan’s got a cramp in her leg so she’s not going to work.’

  ‘She’s been getting a lot of cramps these days.’ She didn’t go to work last Friday either and knocked on our door nearly every hour with some excuse.

  Mum looked away quickly, got busy wiping the bench top.

  I stopped. ‘What’s going on, Mum?’

  She smiled but a frown cut her forehead. ‘Nothing.’ She held my face in her hands. ‘Stop worrying.’

  I scrubbed the plates and Mum stacked them on the dish rack.

  ‘Anyway, Mrs Aslan said she’d come over with Ada for a movie night.’

  ‘What? Mum, that girl’s weird—’

  Sam bolted back into the room. ‘No she’s not, she’s nice! She gave me lollies yesterday.’

  ‘You’d like her too if you bothered to speak to her, Kane.’

  What the hell would I have to talk about with that goth wannabe? All she did was give me daggers. ‘Bloody traitor,’ I said to Sam, washing the cups.

  ‘When’s Mrs Aslan coming, Mum? Can she come now?’

  ‘Soon, honey.’

  ‘Yippee! Kane, can we watch Harry Potter? Please can we?’

  ‘If we can find it,’ I said, scraping grease off the last frying pan. ‘But if that weirdo Ada starts acting like a cow I’m not sticking around.’

  Joy from special school went on about choices. Today, she followed me outside after breakfast. The food was the only reason I stuck around in that hole. ‘We have choices, Kane,’ she said. ‘What we choose we create.’

  ‘I choose to be alone, so piss off,’ I told her, but she only laughed and sat next to me.

  ‘Bad luck,’ she said, ‘I’ve already chosen to like you.’

  She held my hand, and I tried to shake it off but my fingers held on.

  Sam’s house was a mess.