My Name Is Leon

by Kit de Waal

  “Come on, come on. Come here! Let me show you something, young man.”

  Leon smells sour whiskey on Mr. Devlin’s breath.

  Mr. Devlin takes a handful of seeds and lets them drop through his fingers around the base of each bamboo cane, four or five brown seeds in a little heap.

  “Push them in, push them in. Don’t just watch them.”

  Leon pokes them in with his fingers, each one in its own hole. He squats on the soil so he doesn’t get his new shorts dirty and crabs his way round the wigwams, following Mr. Devlin, who’s not walking straight and talking all the time.

  “In São Paulo you have a longer season. That’s the difference. No frosts. Cool nights. Wet. Ha! Soaked to the skin. Stupid boy. No, not stupid. Don’t say that.”

  Mr. Devlin sounds like he’s on the telephone, like someone is answering back. He looks at Leon suddenly and puts his hand on his shoulder.

  “He had so much energy, just like me when I was a boy. Never still, never could sit still. Running full pelt. She never caught him.”

  Then Mr. Devlin goes to his halfway house and comes back with a battered khaki watering can and a plastic bottle. When he speaks, he sounds like a child.

  “Would you help me with this, please? I’d be grateful if you would help me. Grateful.”

  They water the seeds together like Tufty showed him. Mr. Devlin has stopped talking. Leon looks at him as he waters his plants but his face is sad and his lips are thin.

  “I have to go now,” says Leon but Mr. Devlin doesn’t even say goodbye. He slumps and trudges back to his shed, weaving from side to side, and Leon thinks he looks much older than usual.

  There is music coming from somewhere, reggae music. Tufty must have a radio but when he gets to Tufty’s plot he’s nowhere to be seen and it’s all gone quiet. Leon opens the shed door. Tufty’s inside with a massive, massive, massive silver tape recorder. It’s wider than Tufty’s chest, with two round speakers on the front with dials and buttons and everything. Tufty’s got a packet of batteries in his hand and he’s taken the back off the machine.

  “Wow!” says Leon. “What’s that?”

  “Boom box,” says Tufty. “Panasonic 180 Ghetto Blaster.”

  “Is it yours?”

  “Don’t even ask what it cost. I can’t afford it, you know.”

  “How much was it?”

  “Take all your pocket money and multiply it by your age. I brought it up here to have some music while I’m working and the batteries just died. At least, I hope it’s the batteries. The one time I bring this out of the house and look what happens. Anyhow, this thing breaks, it’s going straight back to the shop.”

  Tufty clicks eight enormous batteries into place and fixes a plastic plate over them. He sits it up on the bench.

  “Let’s see. Cross your fingers.”

  Leon crosses all of his fingers and holds them up for Tufty to see. Click. Doooouuufff. Doooouuufff. The bass hits Leon like a train.

  “Yeah, man!” shouts Tufty. “Feel that?”

  Leon puts his hands over his chest and starts giggling.

  “King Tubby, Star. You can’t get better than King Tubby’s dub.”

  Tufty turns the knob at the front and the bass, heavy as concrete, makes the whole shed shudder. Douff, douff, douff. Douff, douff, douff.

  Tufty nods in time with the music and closes his eyes. He drops back, rolls forward, drops back, rolls forward, nods in time with the music, drops back. He’s lost in it and Leon feels it, too. He feels a warm current of sound start in his belly and climb up into his neck. He starts to nod and sway and when he closes his eyes he feels it stronger, feels his arms rise up all on their own and his feet start shuffling on the wooden floor.

  Douff, douff, douff. Douff, douff, douff.

  There’s no change in the music, just the cludding of the bass, on and on, over and over like the hammer of his heartbeat.

  Douff, douff, douff.

  When he opens his eyes, Tufty is standing with his arms folded, one hand hiding his wide smile.

  “Yes, sir! You feel it! You really feel it! That’s what righteous dub can do to you. Where did you go, eh? You went somewhere?”

  Leon nods.

  “Good?”

  “Yes.”

  Tufty claps and laughs.

  “Me and you, Star, in a good place. Yes! Come, I got more tunes for you.”

  Tufty plays Leon lots of different songs and tells him all the different singers: King Tubby, Bob Marley, Dennis Brown, Burning Spear, Barrington Levy. All the names merge into one sound.

  Douff, douff, douff. Black Pow-er. Douff, douff, douff. Black Pow-er.

  When Leon gets back on his bike, he thinks about Jake and where he is and what he’s doing and how he can find him. He thinks about Jake banging his baby drum in time to Tufty’s music. Leon puts his feet on the pedals and his legs push down on the beat. Douff, douff, douff, all the way home.

  24

  Because the journey to the Family Center takes so long, Leon has to listen to the news twice. When the Zebra came he thought he was getting another present like the bike because she said she had a surprise for him. But it was much better than a bike. His mom has come back. He runs and gets his backpack and sits in the back of the car right away but then the Zebra stands at the door talking to Sylvia for ages. Leon rolls down the window so he can hear.

  The Zebra talks about Maureen first.

  “She’s going to need to take it steady when she comes out.”

  “It’s her weight as much as anything else.”

  “One of our best carers but I’m not sure she would be up to caring for another energetic boy like this one.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “But she’s so committed. Wish we had more like her.”

  “I’ll be having words with her when she gets out, I can tell you.”

  “Leon misses her, doesn’t he?”

  “So do I.”

  “We’re looking at a permanent plan for Leon. Long-term fostering is the best option obviously but those placements are not easy to find. Matching considerations come into play and various other factors . . .”

  Sylvia starts talking about the Royal Wedding.

  “Wonder what her dress will be like?”

  “I’m not a royalist by any stretch of the imagination but I thought at least we’d get the day off.”

  “Disgraceful,” says Sylvia and takes a little step back inside.

  The Zebra leans in.

  “Think about how much they’ve spent on it. All the pomp and excess. It’s a showcase for the monarchy, a festivity, with all the heads of Europe being flown in. Who do you think is paying for that?”

  “They’ve probably got their own planes.”

  “Then there’s the hotels, the cars, the wedding breakfast.”

  “We’re having a street party,” says Sylvia with her hand on the door.

  The Zebra gets her keys out of her pocket and jangles them up and down.

  “Pretty girl, but I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

  “No?”

  Sylvia waves at Leon, “Be good,” then she twitches her face into a smile. “See you later.”

  On the Zebra’s car radio, it’s the same. The wedding and then the riots and the Irishman who starved himself to death, then the pope who got shot and then so much stuff that Leon just looks out of the window and imagines a plane flying in from Europe filled with all the heads of Europe. All the heads are bobbing around or falling off the seats like heavy balloons. Some of them are French and some of them are Spanish but no one can tell until they start talking in their own language. Leon starts to laugh and the Zebra sees.

  “Looking forward to seeing your mom, Leon?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m pleased for you, lo
ve. It’s an important day. You’ve waited a long time. It’s quite a few months since you last saw her, isn’t it?”

  She pulls into the Family Center lot and turns off the engine. She shuffles round in her seat until she’s facing him.

  “Now, last time when your mom went to see you at Maureen’s it wasn’t a great success, so that’s why we’re here.”

  Leon nods.

  “And things have got a bit out of hand recently, haven’t they, Leon?”

  Leon says nothing.

  “Lying? Answering back at school? Taking things belonging to Sylvia?”

  Leon looks at her.

  “She notices, Leon.”

  He looks out of the window and the Zebra waits until he looks back.

  “We need to take this one step at a time, all right? We want you to be happy, Leon. Honestly, we do, but it means you have to try to behave. Remember when I took you to see Maureen, you made me a promise? You remember your promise, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which is what?”

  “If I behave you’ll take me to see Maureen again in your car.”

  “And?”

  “And I have to stop stealing.”

  “And?”

  “And Jake is with his new mom and dad.”

  “Yes, but that wasn’t part of the promise, Leon, that was—”

  “And I can’t see my mom every time I ask.”

  The Zebra closes her eyes and scratches her forehead.

  “I know it’s hard, Leon.”

  Then she turns to the window and says, “Fucking hard.”

  She coughs.

  “So, your mom’s inside, in the Family Center, over there. She’s still not well but she says she can manage a visit. She’s had a long journey as well, so she might be tired.”

  “Did she come with the man?”

  “No, we had to go and fetch her. Two hours to get there and two hours back. Lovely journey it was for me on the highway at eight o’clock in the morning. Come on and bring your bag.”

  The Family Center smells of strong coffee and cleaning solution, like a hospital without the doctors. Social workers sit at their desks and there are people everywhere sitting on chairs, waiting for something. A woman with a broken arm is shouting and a social worker is writing everything down in a file because social workers need to know the date people shout and the date people visit and the date they take children away. Leon knows what’s written on the paper: June 8. She’s shouting. She has a broken arm. Her two children are screaming and running along the corridors.

  Leon can’t see his mom anywhere but he follows the Zebra, who seems to know every single person in the whole place.

  “All right, Pat. All right, Leslie. Glynis! Glynis! Hello! ­Haven’t seen you for ages. I’ll be back in a minute, just got to get this access visit started. All right, Bob. You supervising this access? No? Who is then?”

  The Zebra is talking to a man in a checked shirt. He’s on the phone but talking to her at the same time.

  “Bob? I said who’s doing this access visit?”

  “Bernie’s just finishing. She can take over.”

  The Zebra stares at him.

  “I don’t think so, Bob.”

  She tells Leon to sit down while she goes into the office but he can still hear.

  “How is she? Where is she, Bob?”

  The Zebra sounds annoyed and Leon realizes that she’s in charge of Bob and Bob doesn’t like her.

  “Family Room. She hasn’t bolted. She’s had a sandwich and a coffee. She’s smoking like a chimney.”

  “Well, she hasn’t disappeared, so we’re making progress.”

  “She went for a walk down the corridor a few minutes back, muttering to herself. I think she was looking for the toilet or the way out or something but then she just went back to the room. She’s been asking for you anyway.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, like when are you coming and what’s the delay.”

  “No good deed . . .” says the Zebra.

  She sees Leon at the door.

  “Come on, love.”

  They walk further along the corridor to a small room with two sofas and a coffee table with toys on it. The toys are for babies but Carol is playing with them. She’s holding a little doll and turning it around and around, up close to her face like she’s trying to read something. She doesn’t even notice when Leon comes in and the Zebra has to tell her.

  “Carol? Carol? We’re here. Leon’s here.”

  She turns slowly and smiles but she’s not really looking at him. She has her hair parted on the wrong side and she’s skinny, even skinnier than before, and her jeans are too baggy. But most of all, she looks like she’s been crying for days and days, like her eyes are made of liquid, like she’s been asleep and had a nightmare, like she’s never been happy in her whole life.

  She puts her arms out to him, just like she used to, and hugs him tight. Leon feels a fresh worry for his mom because no one is looking after her. She holds him by both shoulders.

  “Can’t believe how grown up you are. Can’t believe it’s you.”

  Leon sits down and takes off his pack.

  “How are you, Leon?” she says, lighting a cigarette.

  There’s so much smoke in the room that the Zebra opens the windows and begins wafting the clean air inside.

  “Carol, could I ask you to stand by the window if you want to smoke? It’s not good for children. Other people will need to come into this room after you. Women with babies. Families. Thanks.”

  Carol doesn’t move. Leon opens his bag and looks inside at all the things he’s collected. Sylvia said he also had to bring some papers.

  “This is my school report,” he says.

  Carol puts it on her lap.

  “Are you smart?”

  Leon looks at the Zebra standing by the window with her arms folded.

  “Yep,” she says. “He is.”

  “You being good?”

  Leon nods. “And I got a B in Math.”

  Carol begins reading the report on her lap. Turning the pages slowly and looking up from time to time and smiling at him. Then she looks at the Zebra.

  “Is this a supervised visit?”

  The Zebra walks to the door.

  “Would you like a drink and snack, Leon? All right for a drink, Carol, or would you like another coffee?”

  Carol doesn’t answer. She’s taking ages reading the report and Leon is getting angry. Even he reads quicker than Carol and he’s only nearly ten.

  “I’ll bring you a coffee, shall I?” shouts the Zebra as she lets the door slam. Carol looks up.

  “She’s not nice, is she?”

  Leon shakes his head.

  “And she looks like a fucking badger.”

  Leon grins and Carol sniggers and they begin to laugh and once they start, they can’t stop. Leon feels the laughter come rushing out like a river, hurting his belly and his throat, pouring out of his mouth. And Carol’s the same. She’s rocking to and fro on her seat and holding her chest. Tears are in her eyes but they’re good tears. Leon doesn’t have to worry. She’s pointing to her hair and trying to talk but it’s no good, she’s laughing too much. Then she starts making little animal movements with her hands and Leon has to hold his neck because it’s aching and his jaw hurts and the pain makes a clean white space in his mind. He wants to laugh forever.

  Then Carol gets down on her hands and knees and starts snuffling around Leon’s legs like a dog and it’s still funny. Then she starts yapping like a dog and pawing at Leon’s trousers. She isn’t laughing anymore and neither is Leon. She’s trying to tickle him, scrabbling her fingers on his chest, but she’s doing it too soft. He can hardly feel it through his T-shirt and he can smell her tobacco breath, strong and sou
r. She has her head to one side and her eyes wide open.

  “Remember, Leon? Remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  He holds her hand still and she rests her head on his knees.

  When the Zebra comes back with the coffee, Carol gets up and sits back on her chair.

  “Everything all right in here?” asks the Zebra. She raises an eyebrow at Leon like they have a secret. Carol lights a cigarette and walks to the window. She blows the smoke out at the trees. There is fresh daylight outside but Family Centers always have bluish lights that make everything look worse, the toys, the files, the people. When the Zebra leaves, Leon goes and stands next to Carol.

  She holds his hand and squeezes it.

  “Are you coming back? Are you coming back for my birthday?”

  Carol closes her eyes and takes a very long, shaky breath. Leon thinks she’s going to cry.

  “Do you see Jake, Leon?”

  “No, they won’t let me.”

  “Nor me,” she says. “Nor me. Do you remember him, Leon? Remember when he used to get his temper up?”

  Leon says nothing.

  “He had so much life in him, that kid. Like his dad.”

  “He used to sneeze five times,” says Leon, “or six. He used to get bubbles in his nose at bath time.”

  “Did he? He had that cough that time and I had to take him to the doctor’s in that pouring rain. Remember?”

  Leon opens his backpack and takes out Big Red Bear.

  “Look,” he says.

  “That’s lovely,” she says.

  “It’s Jake’s. Maureen gave it to me.”

  “Did she buy it?”

  “I don’t know. Have you still got the photograph of Jake?”

  Carol looks out of the window, left and right, like she’s looking for the man in the sports car.

  “Hate these places,” she says. When she sighs, her whole body shakes and the squeezes of Leon’s hand get quick and sharp. She leans against the windowsill and starts knocking her head on the glass.

  Leon doesn’t know if he can remember how to do Jake but he has to try and find Jake’s voice in his throat. He makes the wrong noise a couple of times but then it comes.