Chapter 12 #4
I realised he looked in my bag, and I ripped it open to check the man hadn’t taken anything.
“You’re going somewhere?”
I turned to him, holding out our fake Laibach passports. I lunged and handed them to me, then I gave him back his cane.
“Norway,” I said.
“How will you get there?”
“I’m stealing a car.”
“You know how?” he laughed.
“Yes,” I nodded, matter-of-factly.
“How old are you?”
“Nearly twelve.”
“So tall for nearly twelve! You’re a smart boy, also a very beautiful boy. I like you. Your sister is beautiful too. My daughter will like her.”
“Please don’t rape me or my sister,” I told him.
The word rape is a long, hard to say word in German. Before I had even finished my sentence the man was bellowing with laughter.
“Straight to the point! I won’t, don’t worry.”
“Put your hands up and swear it,” I told him.
He held his arms up in the air like he was surrendering.
His hands gestured softly. “I am not going to hurt or kill you. No matter what.”
I saw he was honest, because I can always tell if people are lying. It’s my superpower.
“You’re telling the truth.”
“You can tell?”
“Yeah. I still don’t trust you.”
“This is a business relationship. A job. It doesn’t require trust. Just a contract.”
“What do you want from us?”
“First, I have some questions for you. Do you think people are good or bad?”
“Well... no,” I shrug, not really understanding.
“Neither?”
“Not all good or all bad. Most people try to be good, unless they’re pushed. Some people don’t try, and then there’s the crazy people.”
“And in your heart, you are, in some way, better than those boys that tried to fight you?”
“Better how? Stronger or nicer? Or smarter?”
“Or all of those things?”
“How would I know?”
“In your heart?”
I searched my feelings. “No. Not the worst, or the best, if that’s what you’re looking for?”
“I am looking for you. You could go far. I want to train you to work for me. Ride motorbikes. Fly helicopters. Shoot guns. Blow stuff up. I will teach you to be deadly, and you will give me your loyalty.”
“I want to blow stuff up!” Sofie said.
“You, little one, will learn to break hearts,” he said. “You will be put in a school to study ballet, and my little daughter will dress you up like a doll.”
“Who are you?” I asked him.
“My name is Victor, but you will call me Father, or Sivishni.”
I sounded the word out on my tongue. “Sivishni?”
“It means king in Russian. It also means God in Russian. And that is what I will be to you. Your father, your king, and your God. If you do what I say, we can run the world together. If you don’t act right, you’re on your own.”
???
Australia is as far away from Sivishni as I’ve been since the day I met him and his wife Koro.
Most days he feels more like a father to me than my own.
I miss being under his protection. I miss his approval.
I even miss my stupid brothers. But to be honest, I don’t miss blowing stuff up all that much.
I was cautious before I met him. He just taught me to always be hyper-aware of my surroundings and present in the moment. Just in case someone tries something. And now I assume trouble is always ahead, because it always is.
My protective instincts are in overdrive near Austen. It’s like a different state of consciousness. A state of pure hypervigilance.
I can hear the shouts from the crowd outside, and that hoodrat Taylor B egging them on, calling them “kangaroo fuckers” while they call her a “Yank” or “wank”. Austen is in front of me, and I realize there might be trouble brewing between the locals and Kai’s group down at the bar.
Soon I hear a bottle smash. Probably Kai or Taylor throwing something at them. Then more bottles hit the building in return. As we descend the staircase, I hear barking shouts.
We reach the ground floor and Austen, as always, is walking with his head down. I can see past him to the lobby. There are bikers at the entrance, friends of those we crossed earlier, no doubt. It’s a small town so it’s not a surprise they figured out where we’re staying.
We always assume opponents are armed, and we always assume their weapons are loaded. I am not armed. I am stoned too. With precious cargo in tow as well. This is not good.
If you can avoid a fight you should always try to. I grab Austen and move him. I have that strength that mothers get when they need to lift a car off their baby. Austen is as light as a feather as I pick him up and get him to the parking area. He’s fighting me like a toddler the whole time.
I get my hands around his neck. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll choke you out and leave you behind this dumpster.”
I regret that the moment I say it. Physical force is the most rudimentary form of control, but sometimes it is not only effective, but necessary. He stops fighting me.
It’s dark, and we are pretty well hidden.
Then I realize Austen’s sitting in my lap and I drink it in.
He always smells so fresh and sugary. It reminds me of peaches, with an earthiness underneath.
I put my nose to the back of his neck and breathe his scent.
He yields to me and leans back and it’s just us in the stillness.
My arms hugging his neck, his on the sides of my hips.
It's a moment of Zen in the middle of the hurricane.
I can hear a weird beep coming towards us but instead of the bikers it’s William, and he’s out for blood.
“Bee!” Will screams.
That’s confusing, I don’t get it; Austen calls William ‘Bee’.
William calls Austen ‘Oz.’ Why is he calling out to himself?
I am not holding William am I? No. I’m just really fucking stoned.
Maybe it will be obvious when I’m not stoned.
Oh shit that beep is telling William where Austen is and he’s about to find me and kill me.
The guys from the lobby come in and surround William.
Thank GOD. He’s going to get whipped and I can come in and save him at the end, and Austen will think I’m a hero.
Only William’s a robotic beast. Worse than at the bar.
It’s fucking cool actually. He takes each one of these douche canoes out in quick succession.
Of course he’s a great fighter. He’s also terrifying.
I know I can take him, but I think we would both be worse off by the end of it.
I try to laugh it off but it’s the first time my confidence in my physical prowess has trembled. I won’t let it get to me.
“That’s hot,” I tease Austen, when all the others are on the ground, my lips on his ear. “Can you do that?”
William turns toward the dark corner behind the dumpster we are hiding in. There’s not a lot of ways this can turn out well, so I have to let Austen go without me. It feels like I am letting a piece of myself go as I release him. I can still feel his body in my lap after he leaves.
The men on the ground get up and start lurching away.
I move past them like a ghost. I’m furious, and almost daring them to fight me, so I can punish them for fucking up my opportunity to spend time with Austen, but William knocked the wind out of all of them, so they can barely get up.
When I go out to the lobby, Johnno has a drunk pinned down.
“Go back to your room, mate,” he tells me.
Two more men come in and I know they will scuffle with Johnno to get their friend back.
I stand my ground and the maimed bikers come in behind me and limp toward the exit.
The two men look at the damage inflicted on the others and back off.
Johnno gets his drunk off the floor and pushes him away with the others.
We close the doors behind them and the steel security trellis locks us inside.
Johnno nods in admiration, and slaps me on the back. “Good man.”
My chance has slipped through my fingers. Austen’s right. It’ll never end well. He has a venomous, jealous demon shadowing him. There seems to be no way around it. At least not one that’s obvious.
But I do love a challenge.