Read Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives) Online
Authors: Marita A. Hansen
He slumped down onto the flowery cushions. He should have gone straight to Nike’s instead. But
no
... he had to get a frigging conscience and want to check that his cuz was alright. Dumbarse.
“The police turned up looking for Michael. Said you stabbed Maia Daniels. Is that true?”
No way did he want another slap. He’d lie through his teeth to get out of it. “I didn’t mean too. She fell on it.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Aunty Trina crossed her flabby arms over her bulbous breasts.
“No,” he replied, wishing she’d put on a dressing-gown over her nightie.
Tama shrank into the couch as she raised a hand. She covered her mouth and yawned. He never liked visiting his aunty. She scared the living crap out of him. It was probably why Mikey hung out with him so much. It also made sense why the kid followed instructions without complaining. Get slapped enough times and you soon learned to shut your mouth.
“She wuz taunting us. And Mikey’s done nuthin’ wrong. The pigs...” He hesitated as her eyes narrowed. “I mean, the cops have nuthin’ on him. He’ll be fine.”
Not wanting to antagonise her more, he averted his gaze and gave the room a once over. Although far from delicate, his aunty liked pretty things. He could easily imagine her stuff fitting right into Buckingham Palace, from the crystal birds on the mantelpiece to the gilded frames decorating the walls, and the fancy couch with its curved feet. Plus, she sure was the queen bitch of Claydon.
“Tamati, look at me!”
He peered up at her.
Her angry face puckered. “He’s only fourteen. You were supposed to look after him. I want you to find my boy and bring him back home.
I’ll
deal with the police.”
Tama scratched his ear. “Sure, Aunty, no probs.” He yawned and glanced at the clock on the DVD player. Was that one or two o’clock? He couldn’t tell; his eyes were playing tricks on him. He must have smoked too much weed. The stuff was also giving him the munchies, and he needed to take a crap.
“I’m hungry, Aunty. Can I eat first and take a shi...? I mean, can I use your toilet...” He swallowed as she glared at him. “Please?”
She stared at his jeans with a look of distaste. “Yes, and go have a shower too. You stink to high heaven. Change your clothes. I’ll give those jeans a scrub and throw some food together.”
Tama sniffed under his arms. He didn’t think he stunk. It was just a little BO mixed in with the smell of dried blood and weed. Still, it was nice of her to offer. More than he expected.
“Ta, Aunty.” He got up and headed for the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and threw them in the passageway for her to clean. He closed the door, took a crap then got into the shower.
The water felt great against his skin. He stood for a while, just soaking up the warmth. He hadn’t noticed how much his muscles ached before. The weed should’ve given him a high for a few hours, not wear off so damn quick. Maybe Jayden’s stuff wasn’t so shit hot.
He moved his hand over his cock, giving it more attention than was required. His mind shifted to Jess, the memory of feeling her up at school making him hard. She’d put up a good fight, but he’d still managed to get a hand down her knickers. So moist. Oh God, that did it. He laughed as he scored the shower door.
After cleaning himself up, he dressed and headed into the kitchen. A plate of sandwiches awaited him on the bench. He dumped his bag and grabbed one, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth in one hit. He screwed up his nose. Bloody marmalade. The hoity-toity bitch. Next she’d be serving him fucking cucumber sandwiches. All he wanted was some decent grub, like peanut butter or Marmite and chip sandwiches. His stomach growled so he kept on chewing.
His aunty entered the kitchen and opened up the fridge. She pulled out a Coke and handed it to him.
He swallowed down the rest of the disgusting sandwich and pulled the tab back. “Ta, Aunty.” He gulped it down then let out a belch.
She gave him a disgusted look, then walked over to the table and pulled out a chair. The wood creaked as she sat down. Tama was amazed it could hold her.
A short burst of noise came from down the road. He knew the sound well. It was the pigs telling a motorist to get the fuck out of their way.
“You didn’t... Didja?” he asked his aunty.
“You know I wouldn’t call the police, Tamati. You’re my nephew.”
Tama wasn’t sure whether he should believe her. Her face looked more guilty than indignant, and her voice didn’t sound right either. He pulled his bag on, unsure whether to bolt or stay. The pigs could just be driving past; it didn’t mean they were coming here. He moved towards the back door, his fingers itching, his mind wrestling with him. He’d been in the shower for far too long—maybe fifteen minutes. That would be enough time for her to call and get them here. But she was family, why would she dob him in?
Tama listened carefully. The sound of tyres on gravel came from the front of the house, followed by doors closing.
“Shit!” He opened the back door, jumped down the stairs, and sprinted across the small backyard, almost tripping up on the garden hose. He threw his bag over the fence and scaled it. Behind him he could hear boots hitting the driveway and a dog barking.
“Come back, Tamati. You’re making things worse by running,” Aunty Trina shouted.
Tama felt like absolute crap. How could she do this to him? If their positions were swapped he would never have done that to her. No matter how much he disliked his aunty she was still blood—his
whānau.
A police dog clawed at the fence. The animal’s barks combined with the policemen’s shouts spurred Tama forward. He grabbed his bag, and sprinted for holy hell.
6
A female voice yelled at Maia to shut up. Maia stopped screaming and opened her eyes. Her heart was racing. She tried to focus on what was in front of her. There was a pale green curtain partially pulled across, and a basin and cabinet to her left. Where was she and where had Tama gone? She closed her eyes and quickly reopened them, making sure that Tama wasn’t there. He’d been forcing himself onto her, his mouth and hands everywhere. But that hadn’t happened. It was just a dream.
She grimaced as she tried to sit up. Her back throbbed, and her stomach felt even worse. She pushed the covers off to see what was holding her down. Velcro straps lay across her mid-section. With a quick rip they were off, and she pushed up with an elbow. Pain hit her between the shoulder-blades, causing her to holler.
“Don’t you ever shut the fuck up?” a girl snapped.
Maia turned around slowly. Natural light shone through a window at the far end of the room. Hospital beds filled with female patients were placed in a row, and a god-awful smell of cleaning fluid was making her want to chunder. In the next bed, a girl no older than eighteen glared back. Tufts of blonde hair poked out from the top of her bandaged head, her face cut up and bruised.
Maia winced. Something was stuck to her back. She wanted to rip it off, but knew it would cause more pain.
“You don’t hafta be a bitch,” Maia snapped.
The girl pointed at her bandages. “I’m not about to thank you for making my head feel worse, am I? Duh.”
“Bitch.”
A wide grin spread across the girl’s face, replacing her scowl. “How’d ja know my name?”
Maia stared at her. What was the girl’s damage?
The girl continued, undisturbed by Maia’s sour expression. “My boyfriend calls me Bitch, but my name’s Stella. What’s yours?”
“Maia,” she replied, begrudgingly.
Stella pushed off her blankets, and swung two of the skinniest, lily-white legs Maia had ever seen out of bed.
“My man bashed me for cheating on him,” Stella said. “What happened to you?”
Careful not to aggravate her back, Maia slowly moved her feet out. “I...” She stopped as an image of Tama with his bloodied knife came to mind. God, he’d actually stabbed her. It just felt so unreal. Yeah, he threatened her before, but it had been sexual in nature, not an attempt on her life.
Tears began to form. Embarrassed, she wiped them away.
“It’s alright,” Stella said. “I cried too when I woke up. Did your man do it?”
My man? How old does she think I am?
“Sssshhh,” came from across the room.
“Shuddup, you old cow,” Stella hollered.
Maia glanced at the woman in the opposite bed. She looked about seventy, with the typical wrinkle and grey hair gig going on that old people seemed to be good at. She also had a nasty expression directed at them. Unlike Stella, who had nothing colourful surrounding her, the woman had vases filled with carnations and roses on her cabinets.
Someone loves her
, Maia thought.
Maia wondered where her own family was. Did they know she’d been attacked? No doubt her poor mum would be worried sick that she’d taken off. God, she was going to be in so much trouble.
Stella sneered at the old woman then turned back to Maia. “Well? What happened?”
“I got stabbed.”
“Shit … whatcha do for that to happen?”
“I didn’t do anything. I wuz attacked cos of my brother.”
“What did your brother do? And, who was the prick that stabbed ya?”
“None of your business.”
“Sheesh, you don’t hafta get shitty ‘bout it.”
Maia sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Just…” She looked down, her mind going to Mikey. She still couldn’t believe what Tama had done, but what hurt more was Mikey’s part in it.
“You alright, love?”
Maia shook her head.
“You want me to call a nurse?”
“No.” She didn’t want any medicine. Antibiotics always made her feel sick. She gently lowered herself onto her feet.
“You don’t look too good,” Stella said. “Nuthin’ some drugs won’t fix though. You sure you don’t want a nurse? It’s like room service here, but you get drugs as well as food.”
“No thanks.” Maia stopped, momentarily distracted by the girl’s badly scabbed arms.
Stella jumped out of bed. “Whatcha starin’ at?”
Maia jerked back. Oh God, she was definitely going to puke. She went to leave.
Stella blocked her path, her pixie-like face now aggressive. “Don’t you walk away from me, I wanna...” She stopped mid-sentence and swore loudly as Maia threw up on her.
7
Jess lay asleep with an arm slung across Nike’s chest. Nike carefully moved it and slipped out of bed, yawning as he headed for the shower. Last night he’d wanted to search for Tama, but Jess had insisted that he get some sleep first. In the end he’d relented, because he’d been far too upset and tired to have argued his point.
After a quick clean, he got dressed and headed out to the van. It felt colder than normal; the first sign that winter was just around the corner. A breeze picked up, blowing leaves across the driveway. He zipped up his jacket and unlocked the driver’s side. The neighbour’s chihuahua started barking and clawing at the wooden fence. Nike hopped in, fired up the engine, and backed out.
As he turned onto Parson’s Road a gull flew past, its loud squawks breaking the early morning silence. The bird soared over the Maori meeting house, and towards the calm waters of the harbour. Nike smiled at the sight of the triangular-shaped building, the elaborate red framework adding to its appeal. Last month he’d slipped a ring onto Jess’s finger underneath the entrance’s carved warrior. His mates all thought he was nuts for getting married so young, but he couldn’t have been happier with his decision.
He steered the van into Cedrick Place and parked alongside Leila’s box-like house. Except for a red Mazda the road looked deserted. A few trees brightened up the sidewalk with a colourful array of autumn leaves. Leila’s silver Suzuki sat underneath her carport, blocked in by a battered blue van.