Till now I’ve given him nothing just been proper cold – not cause I think he could slick me just cause that’s what you got to do. I seen it on telly – all hostage stuff ends the same – they get you talking and once you relax you’re vulnerable – that’s how it goes every time. The hero cop tied up sweating like a pig but acting calm – making friends until the moment the dumb-ass kidnapper drops his guard and leaves the gun/knife/phone within grabbing distance. Always the same story but you’ve got to be well thick to think the person you kidnapped is your friend. I mean obviously they hate you – it’s so obvious so why would you even talk to them – why would you be nice cause if they’re being nice to you they don’t mean it and if you think they do you are pitiful.
So I should blank him I know. I should keep on blanking him but it ain’t so easy. I feel a bit sorry for the guy. Whoever he works for he’s just a bloke who was doing his job. It’s not like he’s personally done anything to deserve what’s happening to him – at least no more than anyone else – no more than all the millions of people who have easy lives and act like people who don’t are stupid or lazy or invisible or whatever. It’s everyone not just this guy we got.
Don’t really know why but I stop on the way out and turn back. I look at him trying to tell him with my eyes I don’t hate him – but I can’t let myself talk to him. Nothing personal I just can’t.
I won’t forget what you did he says. It was you that saved me.
What you talking about? I ain’t even choosing to talk to him but the words sort of speak themselves.
He was going to stab me. You stopped him.
He weren’t going to stab you.
It looked to me like he was. But you stopped him. Do you understand what that means?
Course I understand.
I’m not sure you do.
You taking the piss? I ain’t staying. I ain’t talking to you.
When this is over, and you kids are on trial, you’re the only one that stands a chance of getting off.
Don’t talk shit.
What, you think you’re going to keep me here forever? You think nobody’s looking for me? You think the police are just going to let you all go?
He’s pushing it now – disrespecting me taking it too far. This ain’t right. I got to put him in his place and get out. Can’t let him mess with my head – it’s me that’s got to mess with his head. How do you know we’ll let you go? I say – quiet but proper threatening.
He don’t even pause don’t look surprised or nothing. He ain’t so much of a pussy as he looks. I don’t. Which is why we can help each other.
No we can’t.
If I get hurt, you’re done for like the rest of them. If we help each other, there’s something in it for both of us.
You think I’m thick.
I think your friends might be, but I think maybe you’re not. Which is why we can help each other.
I stare him down – don’t want him to think he’s got to me. I know it’s all bullshit but part of me’s got to know what he means. For a second it’s like I’m on a cloud – no body no floor under me nothing – just my thoughts my eyes staring at him and him staring back. I don’t want to say nothing but I got to ask – I can’t not ask. What you talking about?
I’m just saying, you help me and I’ll help you.
My friends ain’t thick. I got a weird feeling in my stomach like I’m being a traitor or something for listening to his brain-twisting bullshit. It’s like I knew it would be – just what I told myself can’t happen but now I’ve fallen for it. He’s popped seeds into my head what I don’t want – poison seeds I can’t get out once they’re in – can’t stop them growing neither. He’s devious man a proper snake.
You’re a good person he says. I can see it. I can see that you’re different.
I roll up a ball of saliva and spit it splat near his feet. Different from what?
Are you saying you’re not?
Not what?
Different.
Everyone’s different. You think them others is all the same? They’re not. You don’t mean different. You mean better. You’re trying to make me think I’m better than them just like you think you’re better than me. Well you ain’t and I ain’t.
He smiles but not a proper smile more a scared smile.
Why you smiling?
You’re smart.
Is that all you think about? Who’s better than who? No wonder you work where you work.
The guy with the cornrows? Is he in charge?
What do you mean in charge?
You know what I mean.
No one’s in charge.
There’s no leader?
What is there to lead?
You’re not a gang?
No.
So what are you?
We’re pissed off.
About what? About Concentr8?
About everything.
It was that guy’s idea to kidnap me, wasn’t it? It was him that got you into all this.
All what?
You know what I mean.
He’s twice the man you’ll ever be you dick. Everyone respects him. Everyone. Who respects you? Can you think of anyone? Can you think of one person?
He shrugs and I don’t even know what the shrug means. Maybe he just feels the conversation turning bad. He looks away and suddenly acts as if he’s alone. He ain’t going to answer the question and it weren’t even a question anyway.
I turn and walk off not quite sure what I done – cause I know that conversation was like a contest and I don’t know who won and who lost. He’s trying to play me and maybe he managed it maybe he didn’t. I got to be careful he’s slippery not like the dickweed he looks.
In the early 1990s . . . Ritalin prescriptions were running at about 2,000 a year. By 1997 the prescription level had increased nearly fifty-fold, to 92,000 a year, and by 2002 the figure was around 150,000 . . . There is no sign yet of the rise levelling off . . . with children as young as two being placed on the drug.
Steven Rose, The 21st Century Brain
LEE
chairs, man, I mean sitting on the floor that’s for animals, ain’t it
so I got a load from upstairs that weird room with just a table in it but not nice ones and the one with wheels on what’s a laugh cause you can shove yourself round on it and other people too
but I keep looking man don’t give up even though the others’ve stopped
through the back there’s this closed off outside bit small and dark loads of fag ends and a rubbish tip and it’s right there on top
an armchair
purple big super comfy like a throne or something
climb up over all the rubbish just one thought in my head get that chair
shove it down falls with a smack
turn it right way up and it smells a bit cause it’s been outside for I don’t know ages or something but in this weather it’s dry everything is
few springs poking through but so what
sit on it
bit pricky on the arse but feels good to sit proper
like in a lounge like we got our own place just for us
drag it in
only one wheel underneath other three all bust just metal spikes what scrape on the ground carving scratches
makes it move in a weird spiral whichever way you push it
kills my back I swear but I know the others going to be well chuffed I found it like proper impressed
but I’m just going in when there’s this moment and everyone jumps up but not towards me in another direction
so I go and look and it’s Matchstick
Blaze’s little brother
just turned up
it’s cause he’s like a little version of Blaze that’s why he’s Matchstick and also cause he’s so skinny
like he almost ain’t there that’s how skinny
but now he’s here and he got pizzas cause it turns out Blaze texted him or something and they been here t
ogether a while back just checking the place out so he knew where we was
but he ain’t told no one
and when Blaze said come he did
lifted money got food don’t know if he’s staying or what
and when there’s a gap in all the talking I say I found a chair
and they all turn and look at it but just for a second
and Blaze says bit shit ain’t it
then we eat the pizza
and later I push the chair into the circle and it ain’t shit I know it ain’t
but nobody says nothing
Whenever I take my Ritalin and then pick up my phone I'm like omg twitter omg Instagram omg text omg omg tweet tweet tweet can't stop
Twitter user
KAREN
If you said to me at the beginning this is what we’re going to do are you up for it? I would have said no way man, are you crazy? But then when things just roll out, with Blaze all focused, I don’t know the whole thing carries you along, and at each moment it makes sense, then suddenly you find yourself somewhere and you’re just thinking WHAT THE FUCK? You know?
Maybe the others are regretting it, I don’t know. I mean I’m not actually regretting it but it is a bit weird? I mean I trust Blaze and everything but in a way he’s screwed us. Cause we’re all in this, but none of us was asked or consulted or nothing.
Troy thinks Blaze is God, he’s so up his arse I know he ain’t doubting nothing, and Lee is, like, I mean, he’s just vacant so that don’t even count, but sometimes I look at Femi and I think maybe he wants out, maybe he ain’t really into what’s happened.
Troy was in there for ages. Earlier? Giving the guy his food? I mean how long is that supposed to take? I swear he’s well slippery. Came out all shifty-eyed not looking at nobody. I’m watching him every step, he ain’t going to get away with nothing.
It’s the way he looks at me when I’m with Blaze that does my head in. I mean guys look at me, all guys, that’s just the way it is. I’m used to it, don’t mind, it’s kind of a power ain’t it? Over guys? I mean half of them’ll do whatever you want if you just put on the right voice and act like you’re into them, even if you ain’t? Pathetic but it works.
But Troy’s different? His eyes are cold, sucking in other people and judging them but giving nothing back, and it’s like he’s looking right into me where he’s seen something rotten or I don’t know, it just creeps me out he’s such a freak.
I swear, there’s something wrong with him, some kind of silent thing between him and Blaze and it goes both ways. I don’t know what they got on each other, but whatever happens between me and Blaze – and everything has happened, believe me, everything, every which way, with a cherry on top – I sometimes feel it ain’t me that’s in his heart. It’s not like I need Blaze to love me, or expect it, cause what does that even mean anyway, but it’s just kind of weird the way him and Troy look at each other and talk to each other and know what the other’s thinking. I ain’t jealous or nothing but sometimes I get the vibe that Blaze almost loves him? Not in a batty way, I ain’t saying that, I’m just saying it ain’t normal and Troy’s such a little prick it don’t make no sense.
They go way back almost like brothers, so can’t nobody get between them, but that don’t mean Troy can act like I ain’t good enough. I swear, him thinking that, it makes me want to stab him. Not literally, just in my head, like a YouTube video to cheer yourself up or something. Instead of kittens and shit.
So when nobody’s looking I go in and look at the hostage? To see? I swear he looks about five years older than the day before, and it’s the sight of him what makes me realise we gone too far. This can’t do us no good. There ain’t no way out of what we done, and there ain’t no way out of getting caught, neither. Sooner or later, we going to pay.
I ain’t like the others, I mean I’m a trainee, I got something to lose. Blaze and Troy, it don’t mean nothing to them to give up – fall off the edge – cause no offence but that’s already happened ain’t it? Me I got plans, so it don’t make no sense to be part of this. I mean it’s the worst job in the world, just sweeping up hair all day, literally the most boring thing you can think of, but sometimes I get to assist on a weave or something, and once a week I do some practice cuts, so when I’m starting to think I can’t take it no more, I remind myself there’s a point eventually. It’s my aunt got me in so I have to act all grateful, even when the highlight of my week is standing there for an hour holding dead bits of cut-off hair, and she talks down to me so badly half the time I’m on the edge of telling her to just fuck off and walking out, but still, I’m trying not to. Point is, I got a career. Not like the others. If I get banged up, that’s the end of everything.
I ain’t even touched the hostage, not once – ain’t done nothing except been in the wrong place when stuff was happening.
He looks so rough – scared shitless when I walk in – and he watches me but don’t speak. Not the look I’d normally get from a guy like this – the looking-but-pretending-not-to-look eyes what you get on the bus all the time. Or the others that just stare shameless at every part of you, and don’t even care, and you got to look away yourself. Half of them old enough to be my dad but that don’t even stop them. Can’t see none of that the way he stares up at me from the radiator, tied up like a dog. Maybe that’s what it takes to stop a guy thinking with his dick.
Hard to explain but for a moment I feel almost like I’m afraid of how weak he is. It’s like having some tiny pet what’ll die if you don’t feed him. It’s power but a scary power what leaves you feeling weak about how strong you is. You know? Maybe that’s bullshit, but . . .
I’d sort of forgot it, but now when I look down at him I remember what I said the day before when we was taking him. That one moment? Didn’t even mean it or nothing, but it came out of my mouth, didn’t it? Get him! Just get him! Don’t even know what I was thinking or why I said it, but I can hear the words again now, echoing in my head, as if it’s someone else saying them, but it ain’t, it’s me.
If I could take it back – delete it – I would, cause I know you can get done for stuff like that. Just saying things – mouthing off for a laugh – the feds can turn that into a crime if they want to, if they got it in for you, which they have.
You all right? I say. Don’t know why. Can’t think of nothing else.
He just nods. Stupid, really, since he obviously ain’t.
Got water?
He nods.
It’s going to be OK I says, and I still don’t even know what I mean or why I’m saying it, but maybe I’m just trying to show him I ain’t a bad person. Cause this is going to be over at some point and I don’t want him to think I’m a killer or a psycho or something. It weren’t me that started this, I just got sucked into it, and he got to know that.
He don’t move, smile, blink, nothing.
He works people, Blaze, makes them scared of him. That’s his thing. But he don’t do nothing, hardly ever.
That’s his name? he says. Blaze?
My heart starts beating fast, now, cause I know I messed up.
NO! I say. Course it ain’t. What you talking about?
Sorry. I thought–
Fuck you!
Almost kick him, don’t know why, the anger just flares up, rockets into me, so instead I walk out banging the door after me.
What you doing in there? says Femi. He’s right there outside the door, like he was listening. Nearly walk right into him.
Nothing. What’s it to you?
Is he OK?
See for yourself.
Then there’s like a long weird moment when Femi’s looking at me and I’m looking at him and it’s almost as if he’s asking me to bail, asking me to just run for it with him, maybe even go to the feds just do whatever we got to do to get out of this without being banged up for the rest of our lives. And I’m almost with him? I’m that close. I almost say it. But before anything comes out of my mouth there’s the megaphone. It’s
like a joke? Not cause it’s funny. Just – I mean – do these guys get their lines from off the telly, or what?
This is the police it says. You are surrounded.
Femi starts running around, shouting. What the fuck? What are we going to do? I told you this was going to happen!
I start freaking even worse. I’m just going how’d they find us? How’d they find us?
Lee goes up to the window of the office and starts shouting over and over THEY’RE OUTSIDE! THE FEDS! THEY’RE OUTSIDE! THEY’RE OUTSIDE!
Matchstick’s quiet and still but his face gone all big and puffy like he’s fighting himself not to cry.
Only two people stay calm. Blaze and Troy. Blaze looks at Troy, Troy looks back at Blaze, and in the corner of Troy’s mouth there’s a little curl. Not a smile, but something that looks like it’s thinking about turning into one?
It’s like they planned for this and they know what to do next and I swear it vexes me so bad the way them two always knows what each other is thinking when I never have a clue? Not that I’d want to know what’s going on in Troy’s pissy little brain, but if Blaze just let me in and told me the shit he tells Troy I swear to God the two of us would be so powerful, together we’d be able to do anything, and nothing would never come between us. But that ain’t going to happen. It just ain’t. If you ask me, I reckon that’s the only thing Blaze is afraid of.
Back in the 1930s, Aldous Huxley’s prescient Brave New World offered a universal panacea, a drug called Soma that removed all existential pain. Today’s Brave New World will have a multitude of designer psychotropics, available either by consumer choice (so called ‘smart’ drugs to enhance cognition) or by state prescription (Ritalin for behaviour control).
Steven Rose, The 21st Century Brain
THE NEGOTIATOR
‘This is the police,’ I say. ‘You are surrounded.’
Concentr8 Page 5
