Rough Justice (Part One)

© 2013 David Jasmin-Green

Archie searched the bin outside Greggs the bakers for discarded food. It was a Saturday afternoon and the town centre was packed, but the old timer had been homeless for a number of years and he had long since abandoned the last vestiges of shame. He was hungry, he needed food and the scraps that others discarded was the only menu he had to choose from - that's all there was too it, and he didn't care a toss about the snide comments and looks of distaste that he received from passers by more fortunate than himself.

“Disgusting!” a mutton dressed as lamb crone said to her friend as they walked past. “They should round the stinkin' fuckers up and lock 'em in lunatic asylums or burn' em in the power station instead of lettin' 'em parade around the town makin' the place look untidy.”

“A pox on you, madam,” Archie replied. “Or maybe cancer, preferably vaginal cancer if there's any such thing, and if there isn't there ought to be for inconsiderate bitches like you – I must remember to mention the idea to My Heavenly Father in my prayers. I hope cancer comes knocking on your door soon, and I hope it's a nice, steady, not too aggressive strain. I hope your piss-flaps swell to the size of the curtains on the stage in the Town Hall so that you have to push them around in an infeasibly large wheelbarrow for months on end before you eventually die in unparalleled agony.”

“Bleedin' nutter,” the woman muttered.

The bin outside Greggs was Archie's favourite larder, it had saved the day many a time, and his search was soon rewarded by a half-eaten steak slice and a couple of sausage rolls that looked completely untouched. That would go nicely with the chips he had salvaged earlier and a screw top bottle of coke he found on a wall that some wasteful soul had taken just a couple of swigs from – the goodies were all stashed away in the pockets of the overcoat he wore all year round. The old man ambled towards the end of Park Street, the town's main thoroughfare. He was heading for the local park where he was confident of finding a secluded bench so that he could enjoy his little feast in peace – or maybe he would share his meagre fare a little further afield – he could do with a little company, he mused, but he hadn't made his mind up yet.

“There goes Gollum,” Dalen said to his two stooges. “You pair still in on the adventure, are you still faithful soldiers, or 'ave you decided to chicken out?”

“I ain't chickenin' out,” Jordan said. “It's a sick idea, I can't wait. I'm gonna knock Gollum down, man, I'm gonna kick the bald old bastard good an' 'ard until 'is 'ead looks like mincemeat!”

“Ow about you, JJ?”

“I dunno,” JJ said. “I've thought about it and I don't think I wanna do it – I thought you'd change your minds too when it came to the crunch, I thought it was all talk.”

“Pussy,” Dalen said.

“Call me what you want, I don't wanna do it, and that's that. It's wrong, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night. Besides, you'll get caught, an' if I got caught doing somethin' so evil I wouldn't be able to look my mum and dad in the eye. And what would my baby brother think of me? You two 'ad better think long an' 'ard before you do what you said you want to do. Whether you get caught or not, it'll stick with you for the rest of your lives. Remember, that bloke might be a tramp, but 'e's also a 'uman being an 'e deserves a little bit of respect just like everybody else. My dad lived on the streets for eighteen months in Jamaica until 'e came over 'ere..... Don't do it, Dalen, please - 'e ain't done anythin' to you.”

“Useless muvva-fucker!” Jordan growled.

“You're outta the gang, man,” Dalen said. “You do realise that, don't ya? You're no good to me if you keep backin' out as soon as crunch time comes.”

“Yeah,” JJ replied. “I thought as much. See you around.....”

“Not if we see you first, pussy-'ole!” Jordan grunted.

“I knew 'e'd chicken out,” Dalen said as the tall black kid was swallowed by the crowd and the two mixed race boys followed the tramp from a safe distance. “I just knew it, I could feel it in me bones. 'E was all talk, you can always tell. Now I've gotta find meself another soldier, a worthy soldier this time, not a yeller-belly like friggin' JJ. Worra cunt!”

“I feel bad now, Dalen, 'cos it was me 'oo suggested that JJ should join up with us. I thought 'e 'ad what it takes, I really did, but I was wrong an 'e was all mouth.”

“Don't feel bad, mate, there's no need, you wasn't to know 'ow things'd turn out. I thought 'e 'ad what it takes as well at first, but then 'e started chickenin' out of whatever I asked 'im to do. 'I don't wanna sell skunk, what it me mam finds out? I don't wanna nick clothes outta River Island to sell, me old man'd kill me!' 'E's a square, an' a square 'as no place in the Chuckery crew. We're better off without 'im. There's a guy moved down 'ere from Brummagem wants to join, 'e's only been at the school since the start of the summer term, but 'e seems a likely lad – now JJ's been demoted I'm gonna ask 'im to join us.”

“I just 'ope JJ keeps 'is big mouth shut,” Jordan said, passing his friend a cigarette and lighting up. “Maybe we should do this another time.....”

“Naa, there's no time like the present, as me mum says. We've got all the stuff we need, so I say we should just do it and fuck the consequences – if we don't do it now we might not see Gollum for weeks, 'an when we do see 'im we might change our own minds an' chicken out ourselves.”

“All right, you're the boss. Death or glory, man!” Jordan yelled, and the two boys high-fived and carried on following their carefully selected victim.

*************************

“Yow, man!” Dalen said to the heavily built black kid that crossed the road to talk to them. “How's tricks? Jordan, this is Briggsy, the guy I told you about earlier, Briggsy, this is me mate Jordan. Look, Briggsy, I already 'inted that we might think about settin' you on with our crew. 'Ow do you feel about joinin' right now? We're on a mission, man, an' we could do with an extra pair of 'ands.”

“Depends what you 'ave in mind,” Briggsy replied, 'I was just off to meet my new girl.”

“We're, erm, we're followin' that tramp, we're gonna rough 'im up a bit when 'e goes in the park.”

“Rough 'im up what for?”

“We're gonna torch the dirty bastard, man!” Jordan yelled. “We've got rope an' meths an' stuff, an' we're gonna burn 'im up!”

“Are you crazy?” Briggsy said. “Why would you wanna do somethin' like that to an 'armless old man? You're kiddin' me, tell me you're pullin' my leg, for fuck's sake.”

“We're doin' it just for the fun of it,” Dalen said, a wicked smile playing across his lips. “We're fun guys – I did tell you that we're fun guys, didn't I? I told you we was into duckin' an' divin' and' treadin' the sort of dangerous ground that other crews daren't tread. I told you we were the baddest of 'em all, an' now an' then we feel inclined to prove it. Think of the cred it'll give you, man!”

“Count me out, kid,” Briggsy replied. “I don't want no part of that. Don't get me wrong, I'm into a lot of naughty stuff, but there's bad an' bad, and mindless killin' is too bad for my likin'. Shit, I don't wanna go to 'ell.....”

“We do,” Jordan said calmly. “It sounds like a smashin' place, full of torture an' murder an' other interestin' stuff.” Briggsy shook his head in disgust, crossed over the road and carried on his way – he had no more to say.

“Go an' fuck yourself then!” Dalen yelled after him. “Go an' lick yer mother! You ain't got what it takes, you ain't 'alf the soldier I thought you might be, the soldier you pretend to be. Go on – an' don't bother tryin' to crew up with us again!”

“Well said, man,” Jordan snickered. “We don't need 'im, we don't need any fucker. We're the best an' the baddest in the friggin' world!”