Born Different Read online

  Dave had just got a tattoo of tribal thing on his calf from his neighbour, who had bought a tattoo gun online, so he was walking around with his jeans rolled up to his knee, with a blood stained white sock. The tattoo was really shit, it looked a mess artistically and medically but Gabe thought that he would still like a tattoo. He didn’t like the idea of the pain, even Dave had said that it was agony but Gabe liked the idea of having a permanent reminder of the way he felt now; of the dreams he had now that he didn’t want to forget. He even toyed with the idea of becoming a tattoo artist himself, marking people with his art. He knew that skin was different to canvas and that he’d never be able to deal with people all day, bent over working with his wings all bandaged up. Having to do the work that they wanted him to do, it would break his heart. But, if it was the only way, it might be an idea to have a go at least...Even if just to learn another discipline. Gabe made a mental note to check and see if there was an apprenticeship going at a local tattoo studio where he might fit in. He could go round them all first and get an idea of the people in his search for a tattoo.

  But Dave had got there first. Dave had already bought a machine from the guy that had done him and he had a bag full of tattoo magazines to help him on his way. Gabe didn’t want Dave thinking he copied him, that he wanted to be a tattoo artist as well out of some form of twisted need to be more like Dave. Or for Dave to take it the wrong way because he thought Gabe thought he was a better artist than him.

  Dave promised to tattoo all of them. Gabe couldn’t think of anything worse than let Dave at him with sharp needles that were going to mark him with ink for the rest of his life. He had no doubt that in a few years, with the right teachers, that Dave could get good but Gabe had been a guinea pig for Dave already one too many times. But the others were all up for it. Frank said they should all get the same one and the others agreed but still Gabe had his doubts. He nodded in agreement; he wasn’t in the mood to row about it right now.

  And besides, they had shared a significant time in their lives together and tattoos were ancient and tribal too. Perhaps it would be a good thing to do, to mark the end of this time. Something very small and simple and somewhere not too obvious. More than likely they would talk about it for hours and never actually get round to doing it, like they usually did about most things. It would give them a break from talking about money, sex and misdemeanours for a bit and all the other meaningless conversations they had that just seem to go around continuously on a tilted loop on repeat.

  They all offered up their ideas on designs and phrases, things like ‘all for one and one for all’, but they couldn’t agree on anything. The tattoo had to mean something, it had to have a purpose, serve as a reminder and it had to convey the way that they all thought now. Something that connected them all but still would not fade with time. Things that they wanted to remember and not to forget, like that they would never conform, that they would never work for the company or the government or ‘the man’ or be a wage slave. That they would live their lives to the full and not just exist. Live their lives, not the lives anyone else wanted for them or that made them feel like they weren’t being true to who they were. And all of their other hundreds of other ideals; never to be a door mat, never be used or abused, never forget to laugh, read comics or watch good films. To always play their music loud, to never give up on the dreams they had now, however much real life jaded them, shat on them or fucked them around. Never take second best, to be the best and mostly, the others agreed, to confirm that they would always have each other. Like a more grown up version of the time when they were twelve and they cut their thumbs with a Swiss army knife one of them, probably Dave, had and declared themselves to be blood brothers by rubbing their thumbs into each other’s. Mixing their blood and mixing their souls in a bond they believed would never be broken. Gabe’s had got infected and he’d had to go to the doctors and get a tetanus injection. He still had the scar.

  Gabe agreed with a lot of what they were saying but at the same time his brain was just saying, ‘but yes, the bond is going to be broken!’ Did he really want to be reminded of them forever? Being bound together forever is a very long time.

  It wasn’t turning out to be much of a party and there was a black cloud looming. Gabe promised himself two beers and a bit of vodka and he was going to go home and chill out.

  Frank still had something to say and was making a big deal of telling them his secret, building it up and up as some enormous revelation. As the sky got darker and the band stand echoed their voices in reverberations, they all sensed it was something big. But how much worse could it be than what they already knew about him? They were sure he hadn’t murdered anyone. He told them he had something to tell them, something huge and then he kept changing his mind and then changing it back again and this went on for an hour as Frank and the others took more and more swigs from the bottles that they were handing around. Trying to talk on other subjects and keep warm as they noticed lightening and waited to hear how long it took before the distant booms of thunder sounded, the seconds shortening as the storm neared. But Frank kept interrupting them and his anxiety was highly contagious. They all wanted him to get on with it as it was getting cold and they wanted to get moving before the storm, Dave and Johnny wanted to go to a new club in the city. And really, after all that they had all been through together over all the years that they had been friends, basically for all of their lives that they could remember, they thought that there was nothing left to shock them. But Frank had wound himself up so much and convinced himself, what with his abandonment issues and all that, that they wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore.

  “Ay, just get on with it Frank. We love you ok? Nothing is going to change that even if you pull out two dicks ok! Just get on with it! You’re giving me gut ache.” Dave really had had enough.

  They all watched on with baited breath as Frank slipped all of his leather and friendship bracelets that he always wore, off both his wrists and over his hands and as he rolled up his shirt sleeves, to expose a mass of scars. Some were old, some fresh. Scratches and scars went up both of Frank’s arms but they were mostly concentrated on his left forearm, like a surreal broken, haphazard ladder. Some rungs were mere grazes while others looked like they should have been stitched. Deep red gashes and high raised white scars, some purple, some healed. Mostly, they were all in the various stages of healing, a few may have been as freshly made as that day. Some looked like they were a good few years old.

  They were all shocked and they all gasped involuntarily; their skin was not as thick as they made out.

  After a long few seconds Dave managed to speak. “So you’re not gay then?”

  Dave was so unprepared for this other revelation and wanted to break the silence that was thick with all the unsaid words. None of them knew a way in which to express the things that they each wanted to say. It was like there were no words that fit; the words that they wanted to use had not yet been invented to convey these emotions that lay out of the ordinary. And then they just felt sorry; sorry for Frank, sorry for themselves and sorry for Dave too as what he had said was inappropriate and would have been funny in any other situation but they were too sad to laugh really.

  Gabe didn’t say anything, he couldn’t think of anything. For all the conversations he had held in his head, all the worries and fears that he had expected or invented and had prepared himself for, none of those scenarios had included this one.

  “So can I still be your friend. I’m not too weird am I? I am sorry, I am sick. I need help. My life feels like it is falling apart. Will you always be my friends?” Frank looked at all of them with a pleading in his eyes, wide with tears brimming, ready to spill over. He said it had been more a cry, a scream, for help; so that he could feel because sometimes he just felt like he was at the bottom of a well and the sides were too slippery and steep to climb out of and he wanted to get out so badly. He had kept his sleeves long and had always worn a load of leather bracelets to hide t
he scars. They all took generous swigs from Johnny’s vodka bottle.

  After a few more, long seconds, as they all had their own thoughts on everything, they looked around their gang; all of them as sick and as weird and as twisted in their own way as each other.

  Then Gabe walked up to Frank and gave him a hug and the others followed suit. They all held Frank in a genuine act of caring, which meant everything to Frank as they were rarely affectionate with each other. They all told him that they loved him and that they were there for him and each other. Frank was relieved and burst out crying again. They all cried now, the four of them, they shed the tears that had been ready and waiting to fall. They put their arms around each other and formed a tight knit circle, like the stars do before a performance. This formation had been an integral part to their gang code years back but they did it again now with a special intensity and also so that they could hide their faces in the scrum and cry like they wanted to, without the fear of the others seeing them crack.

  Dave then said he had something that he wanted to tell them too. “I am pregnant.” He looked dead serious which made the others just want to laugh.

  “Honestly, don’t laugh fellas. I’m fucked. I really am pregnant.”

  Johnny, wiping a tear away, said, “I thought you’d put on a bit weight mate, I just didn’t want to say anything!”

  And even Frank laughed.

  But Dave was being serious. A woman he had been sort of seeing, well fucking mostly, was pregnant.

  Dave was going to be a daddy.

  And something about that realisation, when it hit them, stopped their laughter dead.

  “I better tell you then, while we’re doing all this Oprah confessional shit, that I shagged your mother Dave.” Dave mock attacked Johnny as he knew there was no way on earth that Johnny really had shagged his mum as he would have killed him.

  But the others found this so funny because not even Johnny was that stupid or mad or desperate and they found it funny that Dave would be so upset if he knew his mum slept around, when that is what he spent his life doing or boasting that he did. Whether it was true or not... And it seemed that everyone but Dave had heard the rumours about his mum, though not even Johnny was that wicked to have tried to prove the gossips right.

  They all couldn’t stop laughing through their tears and were glad for the play fighting that ensued so that they could all punch and tussle with each other; human contact was after all, for the usually undemonstrative, still human contact.

  But Gabe never said anything about his wings. It crossed his mind that this might be the perfect opportunity, a sign...his cue. But he couldn’t. Even amongst his friends that were more special and different than most, with dark deep secrets of their own, suffering from things he didn’t know about too, Gabe knew his secret was different.

  Gabe thought that they could all be strangers in ten years time. If he wasn’t the same person with the same set of friends from when he was eight, who would he be and how would things have changed by the time he was twenty eight, thirty eight. By which time his friends would either be dead, in prison or healed. One thing that Gabe was certain of was that he would always have his wings. They were never going to disappear or heal of their own accord.

  No! Gabe was certain that he would never ever reveal his secret, under any circumstances to anybody. He didn’t even tell them about his dad.

  Johnny’s phone buzzed and Johnny passed it around his friends so that they could all read what it said.

  I KNOW YOU DID IT. PAYBACK TIME.

  “Bring it on,” Dave said in defiance but Gabe’s heart sank and he felt the blood drain from his face. Looking at Frank he could tell that he was shitting himself too, he looked frightened half to death.

  Another message came through.

  “Oh my God!” Johnny’s face went white as well.

  Chapter 12

  Johnny’s dad’s flat looked like a bomb had gone off. The boys were so used to seeing it neat that seeing it now, was an assault on their senses. It didn’t look like it could possibly be the same flat. Johnny’s dad had always been a bit OCD for neatness, something that Johnny had inherited, but now everything that should have been in a cupboard or on a shelf was now tipped out over onto the floor. Everything was just everywhere, from the hall to the living room to the kitchen. The TV was smashed and other electrical goods had been pulled out from their sockets so that there were wires everywhere. And it reeked. They couldn’t quite place the smell but it was a combination of everything rank that they could think of. It smelt like bad drains by the sea and vomit. Johnny’s dad had always taken such great pride in the flat, it was small but he had tried to make it a home for him and his son. Now, the flat was trashed. There was food splattered all over the walls and a lot of what looked like blood too and there was even a syringe on the floor.

  “Has anything been taken?”

  “Hard to tell. No I don’t think so.”

  “What about all you gear?”

  “I don’t keep it here, I ain’t a fool!” Johnny said it but even he was starting to doubt it.

  “Where do you keep it?” Dave wanted to know.

  “Like I’m gonna tell you eh! A gentleman in business has to play his cards close to his chest.” Gabe gave Johnny a despairing look because really, gentlemen in business didn’t find themselves in the position Johnny was in right now.

  “What’s that noise?” Frank on instinct assumed one of his fight positions.

  They all furtively made their way to where the muffled sound was coming from, looking left and right, their nerve endings all now buzzing on the highest frequency. Then they heard what they realised was a ticking sound.

  “Fuck me a bomb, that’s a bit much,” Dave said in all seriousness.

  “Shouldn’t we make a run for it guys?” Frank implored in a whine.

  “Bombs don’t fucking tick, this ain’t a movie kids!” said Johnny who thought he knew it all.

  Gabe figured that the ticking was coming from the clock on the kitchenette wall. The only thing that seemed to still be in the same place it was supposed to be.

  Just for dramatic purposes, and fuelled by an afternoon of drinking, Johnny signalled for Dave to kick his dad’s bedroom door down.

  And there, sat on a basic wooden chair, naked, shaking, bound and gagged in the middle of the room, was Johnny’s dad. Crying and stinking of the unmistakable scent of urine.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Johnny’s ever present confidence momentarily vanished.

  Gabe strode over and tore the gaffer tape from off of Johnny’s dad’s mouth.

  “What the fuck have you done now?” Johnny’s dad literally spat. He was, unusually for him but not for the circumstances, understandably angry.

  “Nothing dad. Nothing right.” Johnny barged past Gabe so that he could untie his dad’s hands and ankles. Johnny that was usually so particular about his appearance and disrespectful about his dad, dropped to his knees so that he landed, kneeling in the puddle of piss that the chair was now in the middle of.

  “Sorry son, I was just a bit scared there.” Johnny’s dad started crying again and a huge mass of snot started dribbling down his already saturated face, down over his lips.

  “Nothing I can’t sort dad, I‘ll sort this.” Johnny released the rope that was binding his father to the chair so that he was now free to stand up. He just about managed to get to his feet unaided, he wouldn’t let Johnny touch him. With as much strength and dignity as he could muster, he put one unsteady foot in front of the other and headed in the direction of the bathroom. The boys kept their heads lowered unable to look up and at him until they heard he’d slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.

  “Should I clean up?” Frank headed for the kitchen to look for a bucket, bleach and cloths.

  “No let’s get out of here.”

  “Lock the door dad!” Johnny shouted back as they ran down the stairs and out the door into a world that seemed the same, despite the horror of
what they had just witnessed.

  “I’ll show those little bastards who is the boss around here. Come on we need to formulate a plan.”

  They all walked to the park, to the playground because here they could see everywhere, they could see who was coming from a distance. Totally exposed as they were here, it was also the safest place to be. If by some chance someone did appear, they could be spotted immediately and if need be, there were plenty of choices of directions in which to run. Frank, who still had hold of the bag of booze, started to dish a can of beer out to everyone.

  But Gabe didn’t want to be here. It was getting dark. He had too much to do, he wanted to see if he could go and see his dad now more so than ever and he really needed to get back to the sculpture. Shit he would rather just be sat at home watching television with his mum than getting involved in all this. Gabe didn’t get Johnny anymore. He knew that Johnny had been hurt by the way his mum had treated him but Gabe couldn’t feel the same compassion for him now that he was treating people in the same way. That didn’t make any sense. Johnny was turning into the enemy.

  Johnny had sent a message back to Alastair telling him it wasn’t him and Frank by now had worked himself in to somewhat of a frenzy, just getting more and more anxious.

  “Maybe we can just give him back what he wants Johnny?”

  As if on cue another text came through.

  JUST GIVE ME THE BOX BACK. FORGET THE CASH. I NEED THAT BOX.

  Johnny was trying to figure it all out. There must be something precious in the box, it must be worth more than the cash. It might have some leverage, it was gaining more value to Johnny by Alistair’s admittance of needing it so damn desperately. But to admit he had the box would be to admit a whole lot of things.