Thailand - Angus Hansen (books to read for teens .txt) 📗
- Author: Angus Hansen
Book online «Thailand - Angus Hansen (books to read for teens .txt) 📗». Author Angus Hansen
close we’d just come to disaster.
Neither of us spoke all the way to the dealer’s door. When we got there Cain pulled back the flimsy security door and gave three sharp raps. I prayed for it to be answered quickly – I could hear distant footsteps and I was convinced the cops would come hurtling down the passage any second to arrest us. After what seemed like ages there was the sound of shuffled footsteps the other side of the door and then it opened an inch, prevented from going further by a door bolt. Two furtive black eyes looked out between the gap.
‘G’day mate,’ Cain said. ‘I’m just after a grammy.’
The two dark eyes fixed on me.
‘Who’s he?’
‘He’s a friend of mine. It’s his cash.’
The young guy hesitated.
‘Come on mate, we’re gonna get rolled if you make us wait out here.’
The door closed, and there was the sound of the bolt sliding in its latch. The air inside the flat was stuffy and had the saccharine smell of burning heroin. The manic sound of computer game street-fighting filled the place. The kid led us through to the lounge, where four other Vietnamese guys were sitting round a TV set. Two of them were furiously mashing games consoles. When the fight finished, one of the guys stood up. He was so short he didn’t even clear my shoulder. He was wearing this huge black puffy coat that came down almost to his knees.
When he saw me he immediately became leery.
‘Next time call if you wanna bring up someone else,’ he said to Cain.
‘Sorry buddy, it’s just my mate here was putting up the-’
‘I don’t care. Just ask.’
Cain looked at me and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. My dole payment had come through the previous day and I’d withdrawn the lot.
‘What you after?’ the dealer asked.
‘Just a gram.’
‘That’s two fifty.’
I handed over the cash, then the dealer went behind the TV where he opened up a black safebox. The other guys were watching the screen intently. This is it, I thought. No turning back now. Cain looked at me and gave a little nod. We slid the guns out of our holsters and stood there like a bad surprise.
‘Righteo, no one fuckin move,’ Cain said.
The dealer closed the black safebox and slowly stood up. He glared at us briefly, then barked something in Vietnamese. As if stung the two who were playing dropped the controls and they all stood up.
‘Here’s the deal,’ Cain said. ‘You give us what we want, we get outta here and you boys get to keep yer balls.’
He paused a moment to let his words sink in.
‘Understand?’
The five guys just looked at us with hooded eyes.
‘Understand?’
‘What you fuckin want?’ the dealer said. I admired him. I wasn’t sure I’d be so calm with a sawn-off shotgun aimed at my face.
‘Cash,’ Cain said.
The word hung in the rank air. The dealer just stared at Cain’s gun. Everyone was watching him. He shrugged.
‘I got none.’
Cain took a step forward.
‘Where’s the fuckin cash?’
The dealer continued to watch the gun with cold calm.
‘I told you. I got none.’
‘You’re fuckin bullshitting me. I know you’ve got cash here, so either tell me where it is or I’ll find it.’
Cain went round to the back of the TV and came back with the black safebox.
‘Keys,’ he said.
The dealer tossed the keys at Cain’s feet. Inside the box was a number of foil packages the size of golf balls.
‘See,’ the dealer said. ‘Just picked up this morning. No cash, only gear.’
He was gloating, like he’d played his trump and won.
‘Just take the gear,’ he said, ‘and go.’
Cain was squatting at the safebox holding the foil packages. He looked up at me, and for a split-second I thought I saw fear in his eyes.
‘This cunt’s meant to have twelve grand stashed in this room.’
‘Let’s just take the gear,’ I said.
‘Can’t buy plane tickets with heroin, Jared.’
‘Well fuck. I don’t know.’
Cain stood up. I could see something clicking into place in his eyes. The fear was replaced by steely resolve. He went over to the group of guys and aimed his gun between the eyes of a kid who looked about sixteen.
‘Tell me where the cash is or you’ll be counting the pieces of this cunt’s skull.’
The kid’s eyes opened so wide I thought they’d fall out of their sockets. I watched the dealer. He seemed undecided, like he was wondering whether to play the bluff.
‘Look man, search everything. I tell you, you won’t find nothing. Like I said, all I got’s gear.’
Cain clicked back the safety latch on his gun. The other four guys, including the dealer, stepped back from the kid, who looked at them like they’d taken the only life-raft and left him to die at sea.
‘Come on man, I’m telling ya the truth,’ the dealer was saying. ‘There’s only gear. I swear to God.’
‘You’ve got ten seconds,’ Cain said in a flat voice. ‘Tell me where the cash is, or your friend’s gonna taste lead. Ten, nine, eight, seven-’
‘Man I wouldn’t lie to ya. If I had cash, I’d give it to ya, just like that.’ The dealer was starting to panic now, and so was I. With the cops down there we’d have no chance of getting away. They’d have us sewn up before lunch.
An older guy, maybe twenty-five, with thin hair spattered over his face said something to the dealer. The dealer replied with a single word, at no time taking his eyes off Cain.
‘-six, five-’
‘Cain this is crazy.’
‘Shut the fuck up Jared. Four, three-’
The kid had become a blubbering mess. A dark stain was beginning to spread across his thigh.
The older guy spoke again, this time more urgently. There was anger creeping into his voice. This time the dealer didn’t even answer him. Cain and the dealer were glaring at each other, like they were locked in some private struggle, and the rest of us were just landscape.
‘-two-‘
‘Cain don’t fuckin do this.’
‘Keep your mouth shut Jared. One.’
‘Stop don’t shoot!’ It was the older guy. ‘It’s on his body.’
He looked down at his shoes with this shamed expression. He made his face hard but I could see he was crying. The dealer said something to him that sounded like a death sentence.
I wondered, on account of the resemblance, whether he was the kid’s brother.
‘Take em off,’ Cain said to the dealer.
The dealer slowly removed his puffy jacket and then the t-shirt underneath. The notes were stuck on in bundles with gaffa tape. Cain told the other guys to remove the cash and lay it at our feet. They were down to the last couple of bundles when there was a knock at the door. Everyone stopped.
‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,’ I said.
‘Alright. Grab the gear.’
I collected the six golfball-sized foils and stuffed them in my pocket while Cain shoved the cash down his pants. Then we were stepping backwards, guns still levelled on the group, edging toward the door. There was another knock. Cain told me to look through the peephole. It was just some weedy junkie with a shaved head. I opened the door and showed the kid my gun. He skittered down the hall and out of sight. Then Cain was next to me, closing the door behind us.
We bolted like hell for the fire escape where our footsteps rang out like gunshots on the cold concrete.
*
In the days after the job there was a change in Cain. After we left the dealer’s we were riding high, like we’d pulled off something pretty special, but then he seemed to crash hard. The mad look in his eyes was replaced with this hollow, beaten stare. His dream had come true, he had all the smack he could use, and yet I’d never seen him in a worse way.
Every time I mentioned Thailand he changed the subject, till he finally told me outright to drop it. For some reason he’d gone sour on the plan. I could’ve pressed the point, but secretly I was grateful. Besides, Cain was already hatching another scam. We should go into dealing, he said. We had enough drugs and cash to get ourselves started. He worked it all out, and as he ran me through the details the same old look came into his eyes. Even as we ploughed through the gear and the cash he continued to formulate the plan.
Soon after we finished off our takings Cain shot through to Sydney, where he said the gear was better. We had nothing to show for the job except raging habits which we couldn’t support. I said goodbye to him on the footpath outside the shelter. He shook my hand and said it’d been good to know me, and I said likewise.
I felt exhausted, like everything was too much. Soon I’d need to figure out how to get some cash together. But I couldn’t even think about that now. I just sat down, right there on the footpath, drew my knees to my chest and watched Cain’s back get smaller until the world swallowed him up.
Imprint
Neither of us spoke all the way to the dealer’s door. When we got there Cain pulled back the flimsy security door and gave three sharp raps. I prayed for it to be answered quickly – I could hear distant footsteps and I was convinced the cops would come hurtling down the passage any second to arrest us. After what seemed like ages there was the sound of shuffled footsteps the other side of the door and then it opened an inch, prevented from going further by a door bolt. Two furtive black eyes looked out between the gap.
‘G’day mate,’ Cain said. ‘I’m just after a grammy.’
The two dark eyes fixed on me.
‘Who’s he?’
‘He’s a friend of mine. It’s his cash.’
The young guy hesitated.
‘Come on mate, we’re gonna get rolled if you make us wait out here.’
The door closed, and there was the sound of the bolt sliding in its latch. The air inside the flat was stuffy and had the saccharine smell of burning heroin. The manic sound of computer game street-fighting filled the place. The kid led us through to the lounge, where four other Vietnamese guys were sitting round a TV set. Two of them were furiously mashing games consoles. When the fight finished, one of the guys stood up. He was so short he didn’t even clear my shoulder. He was wearing this huge black puffy coat that came down almost to his knees.
When he saw me he immediately became leery.
‘Next time call if you wanna bring up someone else,’ he said to Cain.
‘Sorry buddy, it’s just my mate here was putting up the-’
‘I don’t care. Just ask.’
Cain looked at me and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. My dole payment had come through the previous day and I’d withdrawn the lot.
‘What you after?’ the dealer asked.
‘Just a gram.’
‘That’s two fifty.’
I handed over the cash, then the dealer went behind the TV where he opened up a black safebox. The other guys were watching the screen intently. This is it, I thought. No turning back now. Cain looked at me and gave a little nod. We slid the guns out of our holsters and stood there like a bad surprise.
‘Righteo, no one fuckin move,’ Cain said.
The dealer closed the black safebox and slowly stood up. He glared at us briefly, then barked something in Vietnamese. As if stung the two who were playing dropped the controls and they all stood up.
‘Here’s the deal,’ Cain said. ‘You give us what we want, we get outta here and you boys get to keep yer balls.’
He paused a moment to let his words sink in.
‘Understand?’
The five guys just looked at us with hooded eyes.
‘Understand?’
‘What you fuckin want?’ the dealer said. I admired him. I wasn’t sure I’d be so calm with a sawn-off shotgun aimed at my face.
‘Cash,’ Cain said.
The word hung in the rank air. The dealer just stared at Cain’s gun. Everyone was watching him. He shrugged.
‘I got none.’
Cain took a step forward.
‘Where’s the fuckin cash?’
The dealer continued to watch the gun with cold calm.
‘I told you. I got none.’
‘You’re fuckin bullshitting me. I know you’ve got cash here, so either tell me where it is or I’ll find it.’
Cain went round to the back of the TV and came back with the black safebox.
‘Keys,’ he said.
The dealer tossed the keys at Cain’s feet. Inside the box was a number of foil packages the size of golf balls.
‘See,’ the dealer said. ‘Just picked up this morning. No cash, only gear.’
He was gloating, like he’d played his trump and won.
‘Just take the gear,’ he said, ‘and go.’
Cain was squatting at the safebox holding the foil packages. He looked up at me, and for a split-second I thought I saw fear in his eyes.
‘This cunt’s meant to have twelve grand stashed in this room.’
‘Let’s just take the gear,’ I said.
‘Can’t buy plane tickets with heroin, Jared.’
‘Well fuck. I don’t know.’
Cain stood up. I could see something clicking into place in his eyes. The fear was replaced by steely resolve. He went over to the group of guys and aimed his gun between the eyes of a kid who looked about sixteen.
‘Tell me where the cash is or you’ll be counting the pieces of this cunt’s skull.’
The kid’s eyes opened so wide I thought they’d fall out of their sockets. I watched the dealer. He seemed undecided, like he was wondering whether to play the bluff.
‘Look man, search everything. I tell you, you won’t find nothing. Like I said, all I got’s gear.’
Cain clicked back the safety latch on his gun. The other four guys, including the dealer, stepped back from the kid, who looked at them like they’d taken the only life-raft and left him to die at sea.
‘Come on man, I’m telling ya the truth,’ the dealer was saying. ‘There’s only gear. I swear to God.’
‘You’ve got ten seconds,’ Cain said in a flat voice. ‘Tell me where the cash is, or your friend’s gonna taste lead. Ten, nine, eight, seven-’
‘Man I wouldn’t lie to ya. If I had cash, I’d give it to ya, just like that.’ The dealer was starting to panic now, and so was I. With the cops down there we’d have no chance of getting away. They’d have us sewn up before lunch.
An older guy, maybe twenty-five, with thin hair spattered over his face said something to the dealer. The dealer replied with a single word, at no time taking his eyes off Cain.
‘-six, five-’
‘Cain this is crazy.’
‘Shut the fuck up Jared. Four, three-’
The kid had become a blubbering mess. A dark stain was beginning to spread across his thigh.
The older guy spoke again, this time more urgently. There was anger creeping into his voice. This time the dealer didn’t even answer him. Cain and the dealer were glaring at each other, like they were locked in some private struggle, and the rest of us were just landscape.
‘-two-‘
‘Cain don’t fuckin do this.’
‘Keep your mouth shut Jared. One.’
‘Stop don’t shoot!’ It was the older guy. ‘It’s on his body.’
He looked down at his shoes with this shamed expression. He made his face hard but I could see he was crying. The dealer said something to him that sounded like a death sentence.
I wondered, on account of the resemblance, whether he was the kid’s brother.
‘Take em off,’ Cain said to the dealer.
The dealer slowly removed his puffy jacket and then the t-shirt underneath. The notes were stuck on in bundles with gaffa tape. Cain told the other guys to remove the cash and lay it at our feet. They were down to the last couple of bundles when there was a knock at the door. Everyone stopped.
‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,’ I said.
‘Alright. Grab the gear.’
I collected the six golfball-sized foils and stuffed them in my pocket while Cain shoved the cash down his pants. Then we were stepping backwards, guns still levelled on the group, edging toward the door. There was another knock. Cain told me to look through the peephole. It was just some weedy junkie with a shaved head. I opened the door and showed the kid my gun. He skittered down the hall and out of sight. Then Cain was next to me, closing the door behind us.
We bolted like hell for the fire escape where our footsteps rang out like gunshots on the cold concrete.
*
In the days after the job there was a change in Cain. After we left the dealer’s we were riding high, like we’d pulled off something pretty special, but then he seemed to crash hard. The mad look in his eyes was replaced with this hollow, beaten stare. His dream had come true, he had all the smack he could use, and yet I’d never seen him in a worse way.
Every time I mentioned Thailand he changed the subject, till he finally told me outright to drop it. For some reason he’d gone sour on the plan. I could’ve pressed the point, but secretly I was grateful. Besides, Cain was already hatching another scam. We should go into dealing, he said. We had enough drugs and cash to get ourselves started. He worked it all out, and as he ran me through the details the same old look came into his eyes. Even as we ploughed through the gear and the cash he continued to formulate the plan.
Soon after we finished off our takings Cain shot through to Sydney, where he said the gear was better. We had nothing to show for the job except raging habits which we couldn’t support. I said goodbye to him on the footpath outside the shelter. He shook my hand and said it’d been good to know me, and I said likewise.
I felt exhausted, like everything was too much. Soon I’d need to figure out how to get some cash together. But I couldn’t even think about that now. I just sat down, right there on the footpath, drew my knees to my chest and watched Cain’s back get smaller until the world swallowed him up.
Imprint
Publication Date: 01-17-2012
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