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Your Change is Coming
By Antony Douglas
Arts Council funded Copyright © 2014 Antony Douglas
Published in 2013 by FeedARead.com Publishing
Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Dedication
Acknowledgements
One
Naomi and her mum were deep in a conversation walking through Lower Ashworth Park in the early morning of a midsummer’s day, when unexpectedly a masked man leaped out of the hedges and held a knife to Naomi's throat. The tall figure of a man threatened to stab her for money. His large, dirty hands were shaking uncontrollably. He was waiting there for some time. His voice sounded strangely familiar to Naomi's mum.
"Do I know you?"
"No."
He was cold and emotionless as though he was in a trance. The man must be on heavy drugs. He wore a balaclava hiding his face. His piercing ebony eyes isolated Naomi as the weakest link.
Naomi felt numb and was panic-stricken. Mrs. Ava Brown tried to calm down her eleven years old daughter, Naomi.
"It will be okay, my darling."
"Woman, give me your money or I will kill your daughter."
"Don't you harm her? I'll give you anything you want, but don't harm her!"
"Hurry up woman or she'll be a dead girl. Do you think I'm joking?"
The man wielded a large metal blade reflecting the bright sunlight into Mrs. Ava Brown's face which frightened her to death and she replied, "Oh no, no-one is laughing at you, son."
He tightened his grip around Naomi's throat pulling her closer to his body. She hated his unwashed smells invading her personal space. It made her feel intensely sick. His clothing was filthy and his finger nails were black like a man who had lived rough on the streets for years. Naomi felt vulnerable and unsafe. Her mum tried to protect her.
"I am begging you, please, don't harm my daughter."
"Give me your money or else."
Mrs. Ava Brown nervously emptied the full content of her handbag onto the grass. Her bag was in a chaotic state. Having tipped over her handbag, she rediscovered a few out of date aspirins and fragments of last year cream cracker. The bottom of the bag was covered with sticky sweets glued to the lining. The coins were concealed inside of the torn lining of her handbag.
"Please leave my daughter alone, you."
"Give me your money, then."
"Thank God for Jesus I've found some coins. Here they are and now leave us alone."
"Is that all you've got?"
"Yes."
"I want more money."
"That's all I've got."
"Please, I'm begging you to leave my daughter alone, man," cried Naomi's mum.
Mrs. Ava Brown, was a woman in her mid-forties with a bodily shape of a sumo wrestler, she shouted the name of Jesus and went into the spiritual realm. She spoke in foreign languages and the man became so afraid that he released his hold on Naomi. He pressed both of his hands against his ears.
"Tell her to shut up, will you?" and "Make her stop it."
"I can't," pleaded Naomi.
Mrs. Ava Brown was lost in the spirit and the man ran quickly through the alleyway leaving both Naomi and her mother in tears. Mrs. Ava Brown hugged Naomi and waved her hands in the air praising God. Naomi would normally be embarrassed by her mother behaviour of waving her hands in the air and shouting the name of Jesus in public. Before the mugging it was not so cool to praise God. It had usually attracted the unwelcomed attentions of her school friends. For the first time in her life Jesus was all right and he had saved her life.
Naomi was now scared of the community she grew up in and had called her home. For Naomi, the neighbourhood was no longer a safe place to live in. It had changed dramatically over a number of years because of drug dealers peddling addictions. Most of the houses on her street were burgled to feed drug habits.
"Are you okay, my darling?"
"Yes mum. I am a little bit shaken."
Mrs. Ava Brown shouted, "He is a thief!"
"Calm yourself down, mum."
"Okay, honey."
"We need to report him to the police, Naomi."
"The police won't do anything, mum."
"We can't let him think he can go around robbing innocent people. His voice sounded so familiar to me, Naomi."
"Do you know him, mum? Who is he?"
"I think he is living locally in our area."
"Mum, he's a monster. He should be locked away in prison."
"Where is the nearest police station, Naomi?"
"It's at the other end of the park.”
“ I wish dad was here."
"He's away on missionary work for the church, mum."
"He's never here when you need him."
Naomi held her mother's hand on their way to the police station. Naomi kept her eyes focused on every hedge in the park anticipating another attack from the knifeman.
"Here it is, Naomi."
"I can't go inside the police station, mum. I am feeling too anxious."
"Yes, you can, Naomi."
Mrs. Ava Brown gently coached Naomi to go inside the police station. As they approached the duty desk, an overweight officer, Arthur Jenks, sat bonded to his chair. He had barely notice them as he was lost in his paperwork. Mrs. Ava Brown pressed the bell repetitively to attract his attention.
"Hello officer," said Mrs. Ava Brown.
He raised his head from the mountain of paperwork. Mrs. Ava Brown and Naomi stared at his thin strands of grey and black hair sparingly covering his bald white patch. They thought to themselves, how a man of his size, a hippo, could possibly be running after criminals? He had spent far too many years sitting behind the desk typing out enquiries from members of the public due to his poor health. He was a bit disgruntled with working behind the front desk because he wanted to be out there solving crimes on the streets.
"Good morning ladies, what can I do to help you?"
Mrs. Ava Brown wasn't at her most vocally best. The trauma of the incident affected her speech. Her head were scrambling for the words to say and they came out all repetitively.
"Officer, my daughter has been a victim of a serious crime."
"Yes."
"Officer, my daughter has been a victim of a serious crime."
"You told me that before. Take a seat and someone will speak to you later."
"No. I need to report a crime."
The duty officer called in another police officer to speak to Mrs. Ava Brown and her daughter, Naomi. He was a tall, slim and young man with a full set of his own hair. He was strikingly handsome in appearance with youthful looks. A clear skin without blemish, sharply pointed noise, bright blue eyes and he was dress in a smart, navy blue suit. He turned to the mother and her daughter to begin the interview.
"Officer, my
daughter has been a victim of a most serious crime."
"Please come with me to the interview room."
She followed the young officer into the room. It was a small room with a large tape recorder on the table. Before they were seated he asked her an awareness question.
"Do you know who the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom is?"
"He is Tony Brown."
"Good girl."
"Pardon me. I'm a grown woman and am old enough to be your mother."
"I meant you no harm."
"Okay, my darling."
"Madam, please take a seat in the interview room and afterwards I can take a statement from you."
"Can my daughter come too?"
"We will need to interview you both separately."
"What is your full name and address?"
"My name is Mrs. Ava May Brown and I live at 24 Lower Street, Lower Ashworth."
"Are you from Africa or the Caribbean?"
"Pardon me, officer."
Mrs. Ava Brown was a woman of mixed heritage with light brown skin and plaited hair. She felt alienated by the police officer comments. She wasn't white enough to be British. She had a right to be British. She had been cooking English meals for the patients in the Royal Hospital for over twenty years. She had paid her taxes and was insulted by the officer’s line of questioning.
"Are you from Africa or the Caribbean?"
"My daughter is a victim of a serious crime and you are asking me about my ethnic background. Shame on you, officer."
"It's just for monitoring purposes only."
"Why don't you monitor the area and find the thief who had threatened to kill me daughter?"
"Do you want me to proceed with your witness statement or not madam?"
"Yes officer."
"Then please answer my questions."
"Yes officer."
"What is your ethnic background?"
"I am a black African, Caribbean woman whose father was British born."
"Thank you for that. Can you tell me what happened to your daughter?"
"Oh yes. My daughter was a victim of a serious crime."
"When did the crime take place? And who committed the crime against your daughter?"
"I have told you before officer, a serious crime had taken place."
"Where did this serious crime take place?"
"It happened in the park."
"Which park?"
"It was in Lower Ashworth Park."
"We are now getting somewhere. What happened inside the park?"
"A serious crime was committed against my daughter."
"Unless you tell me what had actually happened to your daughter you will be wasting police time."
"You are not taking this investigation seriously, officer."
"I take every crime seriously but I need a statement from you."
The officer was perplexed by Mrs. Ava Brown repetitive comments contained within her witness statement. Her statement was awry and ineffectual. He must now turn to Naomi for further clarification of the incident.
"I have decided to stop this interview and we will speak to your daughter."
A confused and distressed Mrs. Ava Brown left the interview room in floods of tears and she greeted her daughter with a hug in the reception area of the police station.
"Are you okay, mum?"
"Yes me dear" and "I warned you, my daughter, that the police won't do anything."
"We are doing all that we can to help you, madam."
"Can I ask you, young lady, to accompany me to the interview room for questioning?"
"Yes."
"I need to take down a witness statement from you to help us with our investigation."
"She is far too young to be interviewed on her own, officer."
"You are welcome to attend the interview room with your daughter."
"I need you here, mum."
"I'll sit in the background and you can talk to the police love as my brain is a bit dazed."
Mrs. Ava Brown and Naomi followed the young officer into the interview room. He offered Naomi a chair and sat opposite to her. She inspected the chair before sitting on it.
"Can you tell me in your own words what had happened to you in the park?"
"A young black man wearing a mask held a knife to my throat and he demanded money from my mum" and "It happened about thirty minutes ago in the park."
"The man stole three pounds out of my mum's handbag."
"How do you know he was black?"
"I knew he was black because he had a Jamaican dialect."
Mrs. Ava Brown stood up waving fanatically to the officer catching his attention.
"What do you want Mrs. Brown?"
"I need to go to the toilet. I'm bursting."
"It's down those stairs and through the corridors."
She rushed out the interview room running down the stairs along the corridors. The young police officer waited patiently for Naomi's mum to return to the interview room before proceeding to question Naomi.
"What is your name and address madam?"
"My name is Naomi, Vida, Brown and I live at 24 Lower Street in Lower Ashworth."
"How long have you been in this country, Naomi?"
"Say what!"
"When did you first enter into the country?"
"Someone attacked me with a knife and you are asking me about when I had entered into the country. Go away."
"Are you from the Caribbean?"
"No, I'm a British citizen and I was born in England."
"No offence meant, Naomi. We are just carrying out a survey on ethnic monitoring and we needed to know this information."
"Don't just sit there officer, go out there and arrest him. He is a menace to society," said Mrs. Ava Brown.
"With due respect to you, Mrs. Brown, you and your daughter have not given me a description of the attacker."
"We have told you before, he is a young black man wearing a mask and is living in Lower Ashworth."
"There are thousands of young black men living in Lower Ashworth. I am sorry we can't arrest them all."
"He is different. He doesn't wash himself."
"As I said before we cannot arrest someone because he is black and he doesn't wash himself."
"Why don't you stop and search them all, officer?"
"We can't do that, Mrs. Brown."
"Why can't you, officer?"
"We don't want to cause another riot."
"We will log the incident down. Do you want the incident number?"
"Yes officer."
"I told you it was a waste of time going to the police station, mum."
Naomi and Mrs. Ava Brown walked out of the interview room looking both upset. Outside of the police station, Mrs. Ava Brown pointed nose was streaming with summer cold and her eyes were red and itchy. She could hardly breathe through her nostrils without the hay fever causing her some discomfort.
"Mum, I told you before, the police won't help us."
Two
A distressed mum and a despondent daughter left the police station with their hope of finding the Knifeman in tatters. More significantly, it was the first time in her life that Naomi was robbed of her British identity and her mother was robbed of her right to protect her daughter and her status as a British citizen.
"It's going to be okay, love. Something good will come out of this."
"I'm scared, mum."
"Everyone is afraid of something or someone. You'll be fine, love."
"I am afraid that we will never be accepted into the British society, mum."
"There are still some good people left in this world, Naomi, who will see beyond our colour."
"It's the twentieth first century, mum, and gorillas still can't swim."
"They can learn to swim, love. Nothing is impossible. We must keep our faith strong and believe that faith can move mountains."
"Then why do black people rob black people, mum?"
"If a black person robbed
a white person it would never make it better. We are all God's children. One day Jesus will wipe away all of our tears and he will bring about equality on earth for all regardless of race and culture."
"Yes mum, I can't wait for that to happen."
"Let us get the bus home. We need to get back home to cook the dinner for your dad."
"Why do we need to catch a bus, mum, when we only live two stops away?"
"I can hardly walk on my feet. My rheumatism is killing me."
"Fair enough, mum."
They boarded the bus and Naomi sat far away from the driver who was a black male. She was shaking in her seat. Naomi was in a thoughtful mood. She was reliving the incident in her mind.
"What is wrong with you, girl-child? He is not the Knifeman. He is only the bus driver."
Naomi burst out crying uncontrollably. It was the first time in her life that she had ever cried in public. Most of the passengers on the bus were shocked by Naomi's heartbreak whilst others were untouched emotionally.
"What's wrong with your daughter, Mrs. Brown?" said a concerned passenger.
"She will be okay," replied Mrs. Brown.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, man."
"Is that Pastor Fred's daughter?" One passenger whispered it to another.
The two passengers were gossiping amongst themselves. They were former members of Pastor Fred's church.
"I bet he is leaving them."
"I have always said it and you have heard me tell you before that all children need their fathers."
"How can he abandon his family and act like he is a man of God."
Mrs. Ava Brown overheard the passengers' conversation and she was very upset with them. She went over to the two passengers and gently tapped one of them on her shoulder.
"Excuse me, what are saying about my husband?"
"We were just saying Mrs. Brown that your daughter is the splitting image of Pastor Fred."
The lies made Mrs. Brown even more furious with them and she began to confront them head on.
"No, you weren't saying that. You should speak the truth always. The truth is no offense."
They were now on the defensive and were even more infuriated with Mrs. Ava Brown challenging them.
"Are you calling us a liar, Mrs. Brown?"
"Yes. Gossip is worse than adultery and the truth shall set you free."
"What is wrong with you, Mrs. Ava Brown?"
"Stop spreading your ugly rumours and lies. Pastor Fred is not leaving us."
The female passengers were stunned by Mrs. Ava Brown direct stance and they looked away from her.
"Mum, what are they saying about dad?"
"It's nothing."
"Why are you so being angry with them?"
"They are talking rubbish."
"Mum, tell me the truth."
"You need to trust me on this" and "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
From inside the bus Naomi zoomed onto the graffiti drawings displayed visibly on the community walls. She saw the back of a tall man clothed in a black trench coat.
"Mum, look over there."
"Why?"
"Just look over there?"
"I can't see anything."
"You are not seeing what I'm seeing?"
"What are you seeing, Naomi?"
"I'm seeing the knifeman."
"Where is he, dear?"
"There he is, mum?"
"I can't see him."
"He is spraying graffiti on the walls."
"That's not him, Naomi."
"I swear to God, he is definitely the knifeman."
"That is not the knifeman, love. He is Erik, your eldest cousin."
"Am I losing my mind, mum?"
"No child, you are not."
"When I shut my eyes I can see the knifeman and I can see him everywhere. I don't want to live in Lower Ashworth anymore. I want to escape from here."
"We are here to stay."
"We don't belong here anymore even the young policeman thought I was either from Africa or the Caribbean."
"Don't let the police officers comments upset you."
"Mum, I would be far happier leaving Lower Ashworth and going to live in Jamaica."
"Lower Ashworth is our home, Naomi. I have settled here ever