The Alleyway
Late afternoon and James had bunked off school. It was no big deal. His grades were down the toilet anyway so one more day off wouldn't make any difference. His Mum had spies everywhere though so he had to get ever more creative about where he hung out when he was supposed to be in school. The old warehouse district was fun to explore anyway. He was on the hunt for cigarette butts with some life left in them when he heard the noises coming from the warehouse. He slipped down an alley to get a closer listen. He crept up to the side door and looked through the key hole.
The Witness
In a shadowy warehouse on the outskirts of the Longcroft Estate Big Graham McFarlane swung his fist which crashed into a figure who could not dodge it as they were tied to a chair. The force of the blow knocked over the chair.
Graham's Crony, Rat Faced Robert, sniggered and righted the chair, not before giving the bound figure a kick.
"It hurt me to have to do that Keith. It probably hurt me more than it hurt you."
Now bloody faced, Keith muttered, "I doubt that."
Big Graham tutted.
"You're in no position to be giving me lip pal. You know we hate grasses. Why did you do it?"
"Uck you."
Keith's diction was hampered by the blood in his mouth and his two missing teeth.
"I can see we'll just be going round in circles here." said Graham, nodding at Rat Face.
Robert took out a plastic bag from his pocket and slipped it over Keith's head. He secured it with a cable tie around Keith's neck. It didn't matter if it was too tight. Keith struggled hard but Robert held him fast by his shoulders. Soon the struggles stopped. Suddenly they heard a clatter over by the side door.
"Fuck sake Rat face - go see what that is."
The Chase
James panicked when he saw the man suffocated. He turned to run and tripped over a brick. His shin was throbbing as he climbed to his feet. The door shot open and the skinny faced murderer was staring at him.
"Wait there son..."
But James was off. He'd seen enough films to know what happened to witnesses.
The man gave chase. James rounded the corner and was away down the street. The man was hot on his heels. The boy headed right, down another alley. Two spice heads were having a conversation that made no sense to either of them. The boy shot past them, quickly followed by rat face who yelled,
"You didn't see me!" back at them.
The spice heads looked at each other.
"Did that lizard just speak?"
The chase continued through alleys and yards. Rat Faced Rob was fast but the boy was faster.
The Rampant Horse
Dave and Vinny had met up in the car park. This was a rarity as Dave usually liked to beat Vinny so he could be bought a pint. Vinny, of course, knew this so he'd been varying his routine.
"How do Vinny. You're early"
"Maybe..."
Vinny's reply was interrupted by the flying body of a small boy in the space between them. This was quickly followed by a skinny man hot on his heels.
Dave's instinct took over and he stuck his foot out. The man went flying giving the boy time to slip into the pub.
The man flew into an empty table in the beer “garden”. He was back on his feet and livid.
He pointed at Dave.
"You're fucking dead!"
Dave shrugged.
"My friend is in an entirely different corporeal state than you suggest.” said Vinny.
"Eh?' Said the Rat Faced man.
"Well what I saw," said Dave, "was a grown man chasing a little boy. So my body does involuntary things when it sees such injustice."
"Mine too." said Vinny as he balled his fast
"You're both dead"
Vinny shook his head.
"See there you go again with your meta physical mistakes." said Vinny.
The man ignored them now and hobbled into the bar. Dave and Vinny followed.
At the bar the boy was talking to Ken the barman who nodded and reached under the counter. He hefted his trusty rounders bat and smacked it into his palm.
"This here's my nephew and he tells me you've chased him here into MY bar with the intention of doing him harm."
Rat Faced Robert glared at Ken.
"Do you know who I work for?"
Sat at the bar Lecherous Lee chimed up, "You look like your last job was milk monitor at school pal."
Rat Face ignored him.
"Go on," said Ken, "Enlighten me. I can tell you're dying to."
"Big Graham McFarlane."
"Good give him my regards and tell that he's barred as well as you."
Dave and Vinny each put an arm on his shoulder.
"You're leaving pal." Said Vinny.
Rat Face Rob, as stupid as he was, knew he wasn't going to win here. He shrugged off Dave and Vinny and walked from the bar.
"Is this lad really your nephew Ken?" asked Dave.
"You really are thick sometimes Dave. What do you think? However, what this boy has told me worries me a lot and I think we've collectively just crossed someone very fucking dangerous. I hope you're ready for the aftermath."
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat." said Vinny.
"Same." said Dave.
"Ditto." said Lecherous Lee.
"Good. Now keep an eye on the lad whilst I call the pigs."
Aftermath
Big Graham was apoplectic and smashed Rob in the face, knocking him to the floor. He really was having a terrible day.
"The Rampant Horse you say. I've always left that pub alone in deference to its long standing in this community. That's about to change. As for you Rob, you did the deed and were seen doing it. I'd go into hiding for a while if I were you. Go take a long holiday to Margate or something."
Rob nodded and made to leave.
"Oh, and you don't need me to tell you what I do to grasses. I'll deal with the fucking Rampant Horse don’t you worry."
To be continued…
© Darren Sant 2023
If you’d like to give Darren a bit of support you can drop a coin in his Tip Jar
Thunder, Gronk and my one true love
“So whatever you do. Don’t look at ‘im” says Gaz. “Don’t even talk to ‘im,” I mean it. “What if he asks me something? Can I talk to him then?” I suggest as we swig back on our Super Tennents and jump off the bus at our stop. “He won’t ask you anything. Trust me. You don’t want ‘im to know who you are, Gronk is a nutjob.” Gaz has the fear in his eyes. I’ve only seen that look twice before. Once when he lost his favourite baseball cap in the Coach and Horses and once when I nicked a chip from his plate down the Elmers.
The Leek Show
Upstairs in my bedroom, I sit with my back against the woodchip paper licked with apple-white paint, listening to them. The dull thuds. Muffled screams. The slamming of doors and then silence. My mother sobs in her bedroom for a few hours while my father burns with rage downstairs. It’s a well-rehearsed routine by now and always before any kind of celebration.