first time, and she was screaming bloody murder, cursing him, fucking
this and fucking that.
He was screaming back, calling her a dirty slag between slaps and punches. A
man and woman walked past arm in arm, but they didn’t stop and they didn’t offer
to call the police.
30
Fyn Alexander
Gary was shouting at her, “Give me your fucking wages. I’ve got no fucking
money till my dole comes on Friday.”
Gary lived on social services, one cheque to the next. It didn’t go far when you
were addicted to anything you could put in your arm or up your nose.
I started running down the steps. I was small for my age then and my legs felt
like they were going to collapse under me. They felt like candy floss from the
fairground. At the bottom of the steps Gary looked bigger than he did when I was
four floors up. I was scared stiff of him even though he was skeletal from doing
drugs, and not very tall. He had my mum by the hair and he was forcing her down
on the ground calling her dog shite.
I threw myself at his legs, and when punching him had no effect, I bit him. My
sharp little teeth sank right through his dirty, worn jeans into his calf. He screamed
and let go of my mum.
He screamed, “Little fucker, I’ll kill you.” I ran and he started chasing me
across the courtyard. I ran toward the playground where I played after school most
days, unattended, while my mum went to do her shift at the launderette in the
precinct.
Gary caught me when I was halfway up the steps of the slide. I thought he
couldn’t get me if I went up there, but he grabbed me by the back of my shirt and
pulled me off. He was smacking the hell out of me by the time my mum got to us. She
took off her shoe and began to clobber him on the head with it. If she had fought him
like that when he was beating her up she would have won.
She screamed, “Nobody hits my son.”
He had to stop because blood was pouring down his face. Mum always wore
high heels, even to work in the launderette and the sharp stilettos had done damage
to Gary’s head. He began to stagger away across the playground. Mum grabbed my
hand and said, “Come on luv.”
She began to climb the steps of the slide and I followed her. At the top she sat
me on her knee. From up there we could see Gary still staggering towards the road.
“Fuck him. Nobody hits my Kael,” she said. She hugged me tight and we slid down
the slide together. It was a long slide and we went so fast that at the bottom we flew
off and Mum landed on her backside, but I was cushioned because I was sitting on
her. She started to laugh and I laughed too. I didn’t know why I was laughing
because I was only five years old and both of us were sore from being hit by Gary. I
laughed because she laughed.
She said, “No more of that bastard. From now on it’s just you and me.” Even at
that age I didn’t believe her. We didn’t see Gary again, but it didn’t matter because
there was a string of others just like him, useless, lazy, always on drugs or booze.
They were all addicted to something and she was addicted to them. She never
let any of them say or do anything bad to me, but she always let them treat her like
shite.
Angel and the Assassin
31
Kael put the diary away in his pocket. Looking down at the blond head resting
on his shoulder, so trusting, fast asleep, without a care in the world, he kissed the
top of Angel‟s head.
I could very easily get addicted to you, boy.
With great care he eased his arm away from Angel and settled the boy‟s head
on a pillow. He should have gone through Angel‟s bag before they had left the house,
but he had been concerned about the amount of time he had spent there. He stood
up, opened the overhead compartment, and took down the leather backpack. Inside
he found a pair of leather trousers, a few pairs of underwear, a couple of black
shirts, some white T-shirts, a pair of sunglasses, and a leather cap. He smiled
slightly. The
this and fucking that.
He was screaming back, calling her a dirty slag between slaps and punches. A
man and woman walked past arm in arm, but they didn’t stop and they didn’t offer
to call the police.
30
Fyn Alexander
Gary was shouting at her, “Give me your fucking wages. I’ve got no fucking
money till my dole comes on Friday.”
Gary lived on social services, one cheque to the next. It didn’t go far when you
were addicted to anything you could put in your arm or up your nose.
I started running down the steps. I was small for my age then and my legs felt
like they were going to collapse under me. They felt like candy floss from the
fairground. At the bottom of the steps Gary looked bigger than he did when I was
four floors up. I was scared stiff of him even though he was skeletal from doing
drugs, and not very tall. He had my mum by the hair and he was forcing her down
on the ground calling her dog shite.
I threw myself at his legs, and when punching him had no effect, I bit him. My
sharp little teeth sank right through his dirty, worn jeans into his calf. He screamed
and let go of my mum.
He screamed, “Little fucker, I’ll kill you.” I ran and he started chasing me
across the courtyard. I ran toward the playground where I played after school most
days, unattended, while my mum went to do her shift at the launderette in the
precinct.
Gary caught me when I was halfway up the steps of the slide. I thought he
couldn’t get me if I went up there, but he grabbed me by the back of my shirt and
pulled me off. He was smacking the hell out of me by the time my mum got to us. She
took off her shoe and began to clobber him on the head with it. If she had fought him
like that when he was beating her up she would have won.
She screamed, “Nobody hits my son.”
He had to stop because blood was pouring down his face. Mum always wore
high heels, even to work in the launderette and the sharp stilettos had done damage
to Gary’s head. He began to stagger away across the playground. Mum grabbed my
hand and said, “Come on luv.”
She began to climb the steps of the slide and I followed her. At the top she sat
me on her knee. From up there we could see Gary still staggering towards the road.
“Fuck him. Nobody hits my Kael,” she said. She hugged me tight and we slid down
the slide together. It was a long slide and we went so fast that at the bottom we flew
off and Mum landed on her backside, but I was cushioned because I was sitting on
her. She started to laugh and I laughed too. I didn’t know why I was laughing
because I was only five years old and both of us were sore from being hit by Gary. I
laughed because she laughed.
She said, “No more of that bastard. From now on it’s just you and me.” Even at
that age I didn’t believe her. We didn’t see Gary again, but it didn’t matter because
there was a string of others just like him, useless, lazy, always on drugs or booze.
They were all addicted to something and she was addicted to them. She never
let any of them say or do anything bad to me, but she always let them treat her like
shite.
Angel and the Assassin
31
Kael put the diary away in his pocket. Looking down at the blond head resting
on his shoulder, so trusting, fast asleep, without a care in the world, he kissed the
top of Angel‟s head.
I could very easily get addicted to you, boy.
With great care he eased his arm away from Angel and settled the boy‟s head
on a pillow. He should have gone through Angel‟s bag before they had left the house,
but he had been concerned about the amount of time he had spent there. He stood
up, opened the overhead compartment, and took down the leather backpack. Inside
he found a pair of leather trousers, a few pairs of underwear, a couple of black
shirts, some white T-shirts, a pair of sunglasses, and a leather cap. He smiled
slightly. The
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