Klempner

“Here…” Juliana places something in the ground… a flat something… “I'm not giving you a cushion, but you can have that.”

On the end of her shoe, she toes it toward me and across the white line. A fragment of paint breaks from the edge of the line.

Stiff-jointed, I stand. It’s not easy. Every movement scrapes flesh and bone against the concrete and I resist the urge to simply roll forward and crawl towards whatever-it-is.

So, I stand: unravelling myself: piece by piece, joint-by-joint, unfolding my body until I’m upright. Then I take the three or four steps to what has become the edge of my world.

Stooping with exaggerated care for my stiff spine, I examine her flat-packed offering. “A cardboard box?”

“It'll get your ass off the concrete.”

“In this damp, It won't last long.”

She shrugs. “Then, I might give you another. If you behave yourself.”

“You mean if I grovel and entertain you.”

She gives me a hyena grin. “That’s the spirit.”

*****

“Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes narrow. “You can ask.”

“How did you come to be in my hands in the first place? Most of the kids were shipped in from the third world or Eastern Europe. How did you come to be in Blessingmoors?”

Her jaw drops. “You don't know?”

didn't make personal collections. I had people on

don't know why I

I may have fucked up your life, but if you imagine it was from some personal vendetta, you're dreaming. Did one of my ground teams

slowly… Reluctantly…

me

fact, my mother. My father was never there. And when he was, he was usually drunk.

“We?”

slit further. “Are you really interested

interested. I’d like to hear

away.

Tell me. I’ll match

screws up,

smile, wink at her.“ I’ll show

her and me… That she was taking me for a special treat. She made me wear my best dress. My older sister's actually. And she took me to meet a man. He gave her money…” She gulps, looking away… “She said I

Christ…

My belly tightens…

is worth to you, Juliana, I do understand how that makes you feel. For many years, I

eyes to me. “But she

was murdered when I was small. But, at

dull. “Who killed

“My father.”

eyes widen. “And what

end, I killed

laugh is

What goes around comes

chair’ eyes me. “And so here we

you say.

Time to move on…

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