Trash

  He smiled again and we sat there, just looking at each other. Gardo whistled, and I felt my heart beat faster and faster.

  ‘You wanna go there?’ said Rat. ‘We go there now if you want.’

  5

  Gardo here, and I take the story on from Raphael.

  We agreed to split the story because some things he forgets – like he wanted to go to the station that night, right then, and then the next day, like a little kid. He got so excited thinking about what he might find, I had to say no about ten times, because one thing I knew was that we had to be there, in Behala, for the big search – especially if the policemen who talked to us were there.

  I had to get a hold of his hair and I said, ‘How is it going to look when everyone is there to earn money, and the boy they know found something – maybe a shoe, or maybe something else – doesn’t show?’

  Raphael is my best friend but he’s like a kid, always laughing, playing, thinking everything’s fun, thinking it’s a game – so I said they have to see us working and looking, and that way maybe they leave us alone: and so we waited.

  Next morning, like I said, the whole of Behala turns out, early and ready, before dawn. Like Raphael said, we get money for what we can sell, hand to mouth, so getting paid for the day is like a dream, and there were way too many pickers – I guess people had told people, and there were crowds of us, all piling in. Then the police arrived early also, and even as the sun came up, everyone was way up on the trash – men, women and every damn kid, even the tiny ones – earning their precious hundred, some without even hooks, just using hands – in fact, there were so many of us, it was dangerous, and you could feel the trash sliding about, and there was no room to throw the stuff you’d sorted.

  I was hooking stuff up, scratching other people almost, and it was more and more dangerous, so after one hour all us kids were ordered off, and just the men stayed on, and the trash was being gone through again – right by where we’d been the previous day. The managers were there, talking to the police, shouting up to the men – and it was all being picked over and over, again and again. But nothing was coming up.

  All the while, more cars – police car, then another police car, then a police truck, motorbikes, more police cars, and then big cars like government cars – and men in suits as well as police, getting out and their nice shoes getting wet and filthy. And it’s still not seven o’clock and you can’t move for the cars and people, like it’s a festival.

  No belts were working, as they turned them all off.

  Things get worse.

  Soon we can see the line of trucks coming in is stretching right back through the gates and down the road, waiting to unload: after just one hour I’d counted twenty-six. The drivers didn’t even care at first – they squatted in the shade, and some boys went off to get them tea and cigarettes. There were kids jumping into the trucks then, and picking there, on the roadside, but me and Raphael stayed down, listening around for more ‘information’, me wondering all the time where this was going to end – knowing, because I knew, that people were going to be angry soon, and it would be these police losing patience first. When the police get mean, you don’t want to be around. On the other hand, I did not want Raphael hiding and drawing attention that way, so that was why I kept him right in the middle of it.

  One man had a box with a great wad of notes in it, and he’d shown it around to prove we’d all be paid. I overheard another one talking, and I worked out what was happening – they were using their brains. Somehow they knew the bag had been lost in this place called McKinley – which is a rich area – so it wasn’t hard to trace the trucks that look after that neighbourhood. Now, the McKinley trucks had made one visit yesterday, which is how we found what we found – and more were coming in again today. So, for today’s trucks, all the police had to do was get them to drop the loads on a clear patch of ground, and we could pick over it easy, in an hour.

  Sure enough, just before noon they brought up the three special McKinley trucks and they dropped their loads, and they kept us all back, so we were all just looking at it. I said to Raphael then, turning him round so no one saw: ‘Are you still sure, friend?’

  He was looking scared because I think he was just beginning to realize how big this must be.

  He said, very soft, ‘I’m more sure than ever, Gardo,’ so I stayed close.

  We tried to look just happy and excited then, because the last thing I wanted was for anyone to think we were suspicious or scared or worried or hiding something – but I was frightened too, and I grabbed Raphael and made sure we joined in the pushing and shoving, like we hadn’t a care in the world. When we saw Rat, we waved: he was squatting close by, smoking, and he would look over at me sometimes, but nobody looked at him, because Rat is grey as trash, and he has only the clothes he wears, which are so filthy he can move around and no one sees him.

  After a while the police gathered all us kids together and got us working – they’d got extra hooks from somewhere, and as we were on level ground it wasn’t a hard job: we just ripped and ripped, and spread it all out.

  There were about a hundred of us.

  The people in McKinley have toilets, so there wasn’t any stupp – McKinley trash is good-quality trash: food, newspaper, a lot of plastic and glass, but the police wouldn’t let us take anything, because as far as they were concerned, we were looking for just one thing.

  Then someone found a handbag, and there was real excitement, lots of shouting: it was blue, and old, with one stringy little handle, so it was thrown back, everyone very disappointed, and the police just watched us work, looking grim and their patience running out.

  By mid-afternoon, I guess, we’d finished, and I don’t think a pile of rubbish had ever got a better looking at: the men on the trash piles had finished as well, and everyone was ordered down. Of course, we all would have worked for the rest of the day, and the rest of the week – we were hoping to string it out and get five hundred out of it – but the police were smart, and could see that even in a mountain of rubbish, you can pick through what’s up top pretty fast, and you can see what’s new and what isn’t.

  I saw the boxer policeman was back – the big guy who’d made the speech yesterday – and he was talking it all over with the site managers and two men in suits by one of the big black cars. There was a lot of arguing going on, a lot of calls being made, and I could see the managers weren’t happy – I think because the line of loaded trucks was getting longer and longer, and the drivers were finally getting itchy, drinking tea all day and not knowing when they were going home. And you could see what the problem was: if the police allowed these trucks to unload new, fresh trash, the precious bag was going to be buried even further down, if it was there. But on the other hand, this was the city dumpsite, and how long can you close down a dump when all these millions of people are sending stuff to it? How long before the city stops?

  But what must have been burning them up was that no one could be sure the bag had ever got here. After all, kids go through the trash straight out of the bins, in McKinley same as everywhere. Sometimes you see them in the street, sorting on the pavements. Also, like I said, kids get up inside the carts before they’ve even reached the dump – so they could not know the bag had even got to the dumpsite. It was strange to think there were just three boys in the world who knew exactly where it was.

  We all sat around.

  Money got paid out at last, and everyone was one hundred pesos richer. It was getting dark, the sky red all over, and the police finally gave up and started leaving, me and Raphael smiling. Then all the belts started with a sound that splits your ears, and the trucks started crawling through again, and they brought out more lights and worked on and on, right through until the morning.

  In our little neighbourhood there were more cooking fires than usual, and a few cases of beer. There was music and singing, and everyone was happy – most of all Raphael, who thinks the job is done and he’s been so smart.

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nbsp; But inside Raphael’s house, right by me – because I was staying close now – after the food, his auntie says to both of us: ‘Are we safe?’

  I knew she wasn’t, and I also knew she’d brought it on herself. Opening her mouth had not been smart – in fact, I hate to say it, but we talked about it since: if she had kept her mouth shut, things would have been so much easier. ‘Are we safe?’ she said again.

  I said, ‘We are completely safe. Don’t worry,’ which was a lie.

  ‘I was spoken to,’ she said to me. ‘They wanted to know why I said he found something. A policeman asked me about it again, and I shouldn’t have spoken, but I did. Now they’re wondering about both of you. They got both your names.’

  ‘Yes, but we told them,’ said Raphael, doing his smile and pushing back his hair, ‘it was just a shoe, and they know nothing.’

  She was quiet, but only for a moment.

  ‘I saw you go out last night,’ she said, very soft like you could hardly hear, so we were huddling close. ‘I don’t want to know where, I don’t want to know why, but I just want to know we’re safe. There’s nothing in the house, is there?’

  We both said: ‘No.’

  ‘You promise me that? Because they will take these houses apart—’

  ‘I promise,’ said Raphael, so light and bright. All I could think about was the lies, stacking up now, and how I hoped it was worth it. The bag was safe, down with Rat – I wanted to get away and check it.

  Raphael’s auntie kept at him, though: ‘They’re talking about searching here,’ she said. ‘That’s what people say. Ours will be the first, you can bet on that. If they take it apart again—’

  Raphael took her hand then: ‘There’s nothing in the house,’ he said.

  ‘Ten thousand is a lot of money!’ she said, and her voice rose up. ‘Have you thought what we could do with that?’

  I interrupted then. ‘You think they’d give it?’ I said. ‘You really think they’d give it?’

  ‘I think they would!’ she said.

  Raphael shook her hand gently. ‘Ma,’ he said. ‘Ma. If someone here – one of us – if one of us got all that money, you think we’d be allowed to keep it for long?’

  She reached out to me then, and took hold of my arm, so we were all three linked together. ‘You’re smart,’ she said to me. ‘Gardo, you’re smarter than this boy, and I know you can run fast and get clear – and maybe I shouldn’t have spoken, and I’m sorry I did. But I’m too old to move again, and the two little ones …’

  Her eyes were all full of tears, glittering wet – and I got scared because she was scared, and I know Raphael was most scared of all, though he won’t ever say so. ‘I don’t want us getting caught up with the police,’ she said, gripping us hard. ‘Everyone knows what things they do.’

  I couldn’t meet her eye.

  For one thing, I was mad she’d spoken up – it was still the dumbest thing she could have done. For another, I had a feeling things were going to get bad. Sure, I wanted to be smart, like she said I was, and I knew I had to lead this, because Raphael needs to be led. I needed to keep a hold of him.

  I was planning it fast, and that’s why I said nothing.

  We just had to get to the railway station – that’s what I thought. We had to find out what was in the locker, and do it fast. Then, maybe, in a few days’ time, we could give up the wallet with the key inside it and get everyone off our backs.

  If that was too suspicious, I could get Rat to give it up – nobody would suspect him, because he worked alone, he didn’t talk to people. So I thought, Let Rat be the little hero and bring them what they wanted in a few days’ time.

  But if even that was too dangerous, I was thinking – then we could just throw the wallet and key up into the trash, and wait till somebody – anybody – found it, if they ever did.

  There was nothing in the house, that was true – and nobody could prove anything, and we were not in danger, and we could still make money – that is what I told myself, and Raphael was thinking just the same kind of thing, and we talked it through all night, thinking we were being smart and so not knowing what we were getting into. Not dealing with the fact that if the police think you’ve got something, they won’t stop till they’ve got it from you.

  6

  Raphael again.

  The next day Gardo let us go to the station. I told him me and Rat would go alone if he didn’t.

  He said, what if we were being watched? I couldn’t see how they could watch us with us not seeing them, and I said we’d be moving so fast they’d never know.

  He said, what if they come back to the dumpsite, looking for us? I said, what if they don’t?

  He said, what if they’ve got the station staked out? And I said, what if we just do nothing for ever and forget the whole thing? Is that what he wanted? He kind of snarled at me then, but I’d got my way.

  So, early morning we went down to the tracks. The trains cut through the south side of Behala, very close to the docks. If you want to get to Central, you can pick one up ten minutes from my house.

  People have built their homes right up to the line, because the ground is flat and clear. Every now and again the homes get torn down and the people get shipped out. Over time, they come back, and the game starts again. It’s not as dangerous as you might think, because the trains are only four a day just there, and they go slow. They’re long and heavy, and you can hear them coming a mile away. The only person I ever heard of getting run over by a train was a woman about two years ago, and she did it on purpose, walking up as the train came and laying her head right on the rail.

  Gardo, me and Rat waited for the six o’clock. It came by pretty much on time, and we ran alongside the last coach. It’s a passenger train, and it goes for nine hours, way down to a town called Diamond Harbour. It starts at the docks, but not many people get on there. Then it goes to Central, where it gets so full you can’t breathe. We swung up and in through the windows – there’s no glass and no bars – and the only people were an old couple at one end, so we spread ourselves over the benches, and looked out and waved like we were on holiday.

  ‘What if they’re watching?’ said Gardo again. When he gets something on his mind, you can’t ever get it off again.

  ‘How can they be?’ said Rat.

  ‘They’d be looking for people doing anything suspicious. How many times have we been on a train, Raphael?’

  ‘I don’t know, not often—’

  ‘They’re police, yes? They’re gonna be looking out to see what we’re doing. What if they know there was a locker key – they just don’t know the number?’

  ‘No, listen,’ I said. ‘That’s crazy. If they know the bag had a locker key, they’d have broken into every locker in the station. They cannot know what’s in the bag.’

  ‘Maybe they’re at the station now, opening every locker. Waiting for us.’

  ‘If they are, we just walk away. We’re just three boys out roaming.’

  Rat said nothing. He just looked from me to Gardo and back again, and when I caught his eye, he smiled and we both laughed.

  Gardo told us to shut up. ‘Twenty thousand now,’ he said. ‘That’s the prize money they’re offering, I heard – they just doubled it.’

  ‘You know they won’t pay it.’

  ‘What I’m saying is, whatever they’re looking for is getting more important. If this José Angelico killed someone – what if he killed an important man – a politician, maybe: someone rich – and we’ve got the clues to catch the guy? What are we going to do then? We end up stopping the police catching a killer—’

  I said, ‘Gardo, why don’t we just see what’s in the locker?’ And I smiled right at him and lay back on the bench. ‘We decide what to do then, OK?’ I told him to rest his brain.

  ‘I do the locker,’ said Rat.

  We both looked at him, and Gardo asked him what he meant.

  ‘I best do the locker,’ he said. ‘OK? I best square it with the s
tation boys too – say we’re just doing an errand for someone, give them something. Also, in case anyone’s looking … I know where it is. I’ll go in fast, grab what’s there – meet you back by the tracks. Anyone sees me, I just run. Three of us run, they’ll get one of us. If it’s me, I’ll lose them. OK?’

  ‘How much to the station boys?’ I said. ‘They going to want how much?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll try twenty and make it look like a small thing. Give me a hundred, though.’

  I gave Rat the notes, and he was twitching a little, getting scared. Gardo was shaking his head, thinking deep. He said: ‘It’s a good idea, Rat. I can see where you’re coming from. But I say stick together. We ought to stay together in this.’ He looked at me and said, ‘You better stay close to me!’

  Minutes later, the train was slowing for the station, and we stood out on the sides. I could see the platform coming up, so I jumped and ended up rolling on the grass. Gardo nearly fell on me, but Rat stayed on his feet. I hadn’t seen before just how quick Rat could be, and he was so thin it was like he was just straws and paper, like he could blow off in the wind like a little kite. He didn’t even look round, he just skipped along, and we hurried after him. We ran up onto the platforms, and a couple of kids looked at us with a kind of mean-eyed suspicion, like this was their territory – which it was.

  They followed us up, at a distance.

  We jumped early because you don’t ever want to be seen getting off the train. If guards or even porters see you, you can get a real thrashing. The station boys are different. As long as they don’t steal or get in the way, nobody cares too much. They keep the station clean, and go through a train in about two minutes. If they beg or sell, they know to do it off at the sides – that’s why people let them alone.

  So now we were all making our way up the platform, just a straggling bunch of three barefoot boys; we might have been invisible. I knew the dangerous bit was going to be the locker, because that was something you did not usually see. Boys like us opening luggage lockers? It wouldn’t have to be police. It would be anyone who noticed. They’d assume right away that we were thieving, and thieving boys get no mercy from anyone.