Suburbia (short story) by Ani Uttah

Suburbia

By Ani Uttah

He hates this place, always have and always will. With its dark alleyway and unlit streets, it constantly reminds him of the life he fought so long to overcome, here he is now again dragged into the mire of his former existence.

He shifts weight from his right leg to the left all the while concentrating on the flickering street-lamp. He briefly surveys his surroundings with the refuse stacked high on ancient steel bins which infrequently morphed into a flea-fested cat or a foraging dog. The drainage pipes had holes in them. The buildings were coated with bricks; old brownied bricks with the pipes seeming like perforated blood vessels.

He checked his watch for the tenth time. It unceremoniously announced 09:45 p.m. and he cursed silently underneath his breath.

As dire as the situation was, this fool cannot even keep to time. He thought.

He had been here since 08:30 to survey the place and yet it’s been well over an hour with no appearance of Michael.

Whenever he thought of him, his facial physiognomy instinctively tightened.  Michael was a blot to the life he’s worked so hard to achieve. He was a sad remembrance of his early days on the streets; scampering and pilfering before he could eat. His days on the tunnel of desolation filled him with an apathy for where he presently stood. Michael had refused to change no matter what he tried to do. He still wore the dirtiest denim he loved from two years ago, a body-hugging polo and his favourite winter coat. He alternately changed his head warmer but that was not too often. 

He shifted his weight again and noticed a shadow from the corner of his eyes. He studied it for a few seconds and watched as it drew itself into the light. Michael stood before him with a mixture of a boyish smile and an impish look. He had on his usual attire and he looked tense.

 “Why have you called me out here tonight?”, he queried.

Michael looked and seemed distracted by his surrounding. Just then a cat jumped out of a refuse bin unto the asphalt and stared at both men with an undecided expression. It sauntered away when it saw they could not offer him any form of amusement. He repeated the question again and as a response, Michael stepped away from him. This angered him and he grabbed unto the lapel of his coat pulling him near. His eyes burned with a fierce rage and his face turned murderous.

Michael drew further into the coat like a tortoise would when threatened. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out and this further disconcerted him. He turned his eyes away in shame to only kindle his rage further and he shook him with a demonic strength.

 “Tell me now. I am running out of patience.”

 “I…I got into some kinda trouble with the Axe Gang.”

 “What kind of trouble?”, he asked.

 “Money trouble.” Michael answered.

 “How much are we talking about?”

 “$200000.” Came the reply.

 “Shit.”

He released him so suddenly that Michael lost his footing and landed on the floor. He picked himself up with a hurt look as his jean was ruined by the stagnant water which was a permanent feature of alleyways in the lower districts of Memphis. Michael looked across at him and knew he was in for a long speech. He played with his straggly beards trying to feign ignorance of the other’s discomfiture.

Sean looked across  at his brother and felt like killing him. All the time he has rescued this bum from several threats has not served to educate him on the dangers of his continued association with the streets. He looked across at Michael now with a belligerent stare and turned towards him.

 “What did you get the money for?”, he interrogated him.

 “Just for a few runs on the Southside but it never pulled through.”

 “What runs?”, he pressed further.

 “The usuals; coke, weed, and heroine. They are the new cool stuff kids are taking nowadays.” He answered.

 “Look Sean,” he continued, “I wouldn’t have called you if I could raise the money all by myself.”

 “Yeah, you wouldn’t.” Sean retorted.

 “The Axe Gang are after me. I’m overdue in a week’s time and they want the money with interest.” He whimpered.

 “You get into trouble and you come running to me. I’m getting sick of rescuing you. I told you to come live with me but you  refused preferring this dump of a place to a normal life.”

 “Hey, this is what I know okay? I’ve lived here than in any other place. At least no one pretends that they love you.”

 “What do you mean by that? You expect me to cuddle you up everytime you get into trouble, don’t you? I have risked my life and bones to keep you out of prison, yet, what do I get in return – sarcasm. You are outta ya mind.” Michael cringed away from his brother as though he were a venomous serpent.

Sean moved away from him and stood directly underneath the light brooding. In a little while, he looked over at Michael and said;

 “Let’s go speak with Maman.”

 “He won’t hear no talking.” Michael pointed out.

“Maybe because you’ve been doing the talking.”