Chapter 21
I have lost my will, to continue this way
With every waking breath, I decide...
How I live my life is far from normal days
See my downward fall, and allow me to lie
Somewhere inside, a voice is heard
To remind me that I have lost control
-- Novembers Doom
The apartment building was like nothing Faith had ever seen. The whole thing was covered in steel grey tiles, shiny and clean. It reminded Faith of the end of a pencil. Nothing like the plain beige concrete of her housing block. Her block didn't have a fancy polished brass number at the front of it either. She had already marveled at the large brass `8' that adorned the pillar by the steps leading to the entrance.
And as they stood waiting for the elevator, she quietly inspected her reflection in the lobby wall.
The apartment block had an elevator.
And a lobby.
It really was like nothing she had ever seen.
She and the man standing by her had shared minimal conversation since leaving the convenience store over an hour earlier. She had asked nothing, and he had offered nothing, other than his name – James.
Initially the silence had been almost comfortable, but Faith had noticed as they came closer to this building that he had become more agitated, looking frequently from side to side and quickening his pace, making it harder for her to keep in stride with him. However, by the time they reached the he had taken hold of her sleeve again, leaving little chance for them to be separated.
A soft tone sounded and a green arrow pointing upwards illuminated above one of the sets of elevator doors to her left. James guided her towards them with a tug at the fabric of her sweater, passing through as they slid noiselessly open.
"When we get to where we're going, just stand by me and say nothing." He said sternly, pressing a button for the 14th floor. "I mean it."
Faith crinkled up her nose. "Why should I?"
"We're somewhere different now, Faith. Here, saying or doing, the wrong thing gets you killed." The absolute matter-of-factness in his voice assured Faith, in no uncertain terms, that she should listen. She made a show of pursing her lips together to demonstrate, James raised an eyebrow. "Can you do that?" He phrased it as a question this time. "Say nothing?"
She nodded. The elevator slowed, the doors opened and a light blue carpeted hallway greeted them.
"Okay." Reaching down he took her hand again, holding it at the wrist. "Come with me."
He led her down the hallway, Faith watched as the numbers on the doors they past climbed beyond 10, then 20, and continued until they rounded a corner and stopped at number 33.
"Not a word." James repeated. Faith nodded. Finally, her stomach began to respond to the silent threat, churning slowly and turning in circles. With a skill no 8 year old should have, she pushed the feeling away and replaced it with nothing.
James knocked on the door in four sharp raps.
Behind the door sounded a small commotion. Faith could hear swearing, clinking of bottles and movement of several people. She glanced up at James, but found his expression unreadable.
"Who is it?" A voice thumped through the door.
"James. Open up."
There was the distinct sound of a lock being pulled back from the door, before it opened, and Faith received the first hit to her nose of cigarettes and alcohol, almost in as similar proportions to home. In front of her stood a fat, bald man in a stained white singlet top
and tracksuit pants that had more holes in them than Doug's used to. His chest and arms were covered in hair and his beady eyes were framed by a forehead shining with sweat.
He glared at James, then, almost as an afterthought, glanced down at Faith, before returning his look of distaste to James.
Then without warning he lung his hand out in Faith's direction, catching her by surprise.
"What the fuck is this, James?" He spat out the question like Doug
used to spit out gristle in a steak. "Who the fuck is this!?" This time when he looked at her it was with a glare that could fry an egg.
"Saying, or doing, the wrong thing gets you killed."
A silent breath caught in Faith's throat and she dropped her eyes immediately, resisting the urge to look anywhere but the tile pattern just inside the door.
"Your newest business opportunity, Rat." She heard James reply.
`Rat' sniffed loudly. Faith saw his hands stuff deep into his pockets out of the corner of her eye. She gathered the courage to peer past the man, towards a group of larger, rougher-looking men crowded around a glass table.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He snarled
The edge of James' coat brushed her shoulder as she felt him turn slightly towards her. "Are you going to let us in," he asked in the same even tone, "-or would you like your interests shouted all over the apartment block?"
The three stood in deadlock silence for what felt like two whole minutes, before finally Rat grunted, sniffed again and stepped away, leaving the pathway clear for her and James to enter. Faith felt James' hand close around her shoulder, as he persuaded her forward
with a soft push.
As soon as Faith crossed the threshold she allowed herself another glance up and around the apartment.
It was newer, far newer than the apartment Faith lived in. Far newer and far bigger. The kitchen and lounge room were combined – only separated by a long marble top kitchen bench that extended from the wall. The living area boasted two couches a TV and stereo system to the left, and another set of couches with a low glass-top coffee table to the right where then men were sitting. Outside she could see a balcony, and full bay windows looking out onto a city skyline.
A dark hallway led from the living area, but Faith couldn't see far enough to know what was there.
It was huge. Everything was so… new. Shiny. Clean.
She wondered idly what Cheerio would have thought about it.
"This had better be fucking good, James." Rat spun around, giving no indication he wanted them to come any further forward. "Tell me what the hell I've got a kid in my house for. I don't have time for bullshit right now. I got business going."
`That's what I'm here for." James replied. "I have a business proposal for you."
Rat folded his arms across his chest. "Talk quick."
"You're always complaining about your boys getting picked up -" He gestured with his chin over at the group sitting at the table, who by now had stopped their conversation and were glowering at James, and Faith. "Look at them. They're the shadiest group of thugs I've ever seen. I'd pick them up buying milk at a grocery store, let alone wandering around clubs at night."
"What's your point?" Rat demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"My point is that you've got the cops breathing down your neck, pounds of coke leaking out of your pockets and the rest being moved by a handful of guys who wouldn't fool my deaf, blind grandmother. You're in trouble and you know it." James gestured at Faith. "She's your ticket out."
Coke..
Faith's eyes widened and darted around the room again, settling once more on the table the rough men were sitting at.
"It's coke, honey…"
"…Doug got it for me…"
For the second time Faith felt an automatic stab of fear pierce through her, as images of that flashed into the inconvenient space behind her eyes and shook her on her feet.
But Rat's sharp response rattled her thoughts, and the memory wafted back into darkness.
"Bullshit."
"Oh come on Rat, think about it." James jabbed her between her shoulder blades, pushing her further away from him and into a temporary spotlight. "A kid looking for her brother? Dad? Friend? She's so small she could pass through any crowds, cut through any
suspicion. She's got no records and nobody's looking for her. She'd be undetectable, and absolutely effective."
Faith felt Rat's stare burning the top of her head. It made her feel intensely aware of her feet.
"This is ridiculous." Rat crossed his arms again and shook his head. "Even if you were onto something, and she could do those things and be that effective, which, for the record-" He moved only his hand to point at James "I still think is utter crap-" His arm flew
outwards to point behind him. "Does this look like a fucking nursery to you? Do I look like fucking Sesame Street? I'm not looking after a fucking kid."
"Oh I know you wouldn't, Rat." James chuckled. Faith felt him step towards her and she gained a small amount of comfort from the feeling of his coat by her ear again. "Here is where my proposal comes in. Call it… a distribution deal. I am offering you a very low risk means
of safely moving your highest-risk product. You could keep your other boys on the softer material, and leave the harder stuff for our venture." He lowered his voice. "With this ticket, you could even venture harder."
Taking a measured risk to find out what was going on, Faith lifted her eyes to Rat's and noticed the shift from stark anger to a more ponderous expression. His lips smacked together and he tilted his head, once again narrowing his eyes.
"Meth?" The question asked itself.
James laughed. "Meth, Heroin, you name it." Another pause, and then. "You know I have the people who could make it happen."
The conversation volume had now died down to a point that the men by the table, who had been listening up to now, had given up and were talking amongst themselves once again. For the first time, Rat actually took a step forward. Faith resisted the urge to recoil at the hand that firmly gripped her chin and raised it upward, to the side, then down again.
"What's the deal?"
"The girl will stay with me and be trained by me. All jobs will go through me. I get details of pickup, drop off and quantity. She will be there at the place and time you set, and will deliver to the place and time set by you and your buyer."
"And if she fucks up?"
"I will be the personal guarantor for every deal, to be paid in full."
"When would she be ready?"
"Two weeks for the small jobs, six for the hard line."
Rat stood in silence, pursing his lips and tapping the side of his finger against his chin. "What's your price?"
"I get one quarter of each deal gained through her distribution."
"Hah!" Rat laughed so loudly the men stopped what they were doing and
looked back up again. Sensing the extra attention, he spun his head and fixed them with a glare "What the fuck are you looking at?"
They looked away.
Rat turned back.
"You're a fucking lunatic. 25%? Do you think I'm a total cock?" He shook his head, still chuckling. "You need to come up with a sweeter deal than that."
"How about this one, Rat?" James leaned further forward. "Keep using those idiots to move your goods and you can have 100% of your profits lining your cell where you'll spend the rest of your useless life when you're busted." He moved back again. "This is a one-time offer. 25% is it, take it or leave it."
There was a long silence, in which Faith could hear the murmurs of the men by the table. She could hear them playing cards, and betting money. Doug used to have his friends come over and play cards. She had never been allowed to see the games though – Doug's friends didn't know about her and that's the way Doug wanted it to stay.
One of the men at the table threw down his cards and swore.
Doug used to do that a lot, too.
Then, Faith was hit with a thought – Rat had been swearing a lot…about as much as Doug and her mom used to. But James, he hadn't sworn yet, had he? In her mind she poured over everything she had heard from him, and came up empty.
Not once.
Somehow, she found that interesting.
In fact she was so busy caught in recollection that she barely heard the word uttered that would stamp a cold certainty on the next 8 years of her life.
"Deal."
