Chapter 56)
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Arthur hadn't been eager to pick his younger brother up. But once his car was parkered in God bloody knows where, he was eager to exclaim his lack of enthousiasme. Among other things, such as Tommy's fucking nerve to dissapear without personally informing him.
When Maria carefully tried to come in between Arthur's endless curses and acusacion she managed to point out exactly the subjects Tommy wanted to keep from his older brother. But since the floodgate in forms of Maria's babbling mouth had opened, there was no escaping Arthur's angered glares of betrayal.
For Tommy who'd chosen to go after Zilpha Lee himself, without any form of concolense. Taking along his gorger bonny lass, instead of your own fucking brother!
Maria was so kind, or self preserved, to leave out the whole page of the Ritual and the romantic affairs that happened directly afterwards. She did not utter a word about the man Tommy murdered in cold blood, but she went way too deep into details of Zilpha Lee's demands: They did manage to get to Buxton and found The Dryad Inn. The man called 'One-Eye Leo' hadn't been a challenge to spot out from the crowd, missing an eye and all.
It had been a challenge to get rid of the jewels, because for a man with one eye remaining one was pretty obsessed with Maria, her bossem to be exact. Leo clearly had a dead wish and commanded that in order for him to be a hundred percent sure that he'd receive the entire fortune, he needed to watch her undress.
Maria had been appalled but kept her mouth shut, scared she might ruin Tommy's indemnity with Zilpha she'd refuse.
When Tommy wrote a short message to One-Eye Leo of their good intentions the man scratched the back of his head and mumbled that he was illiterate.
Maria then pointed out that Zilpha told her she'd send a message to Leo about the exact amount of jewels and that she wasn't stupid enough to shove a ruby up her arse because she was well familiar with Zilpha's wrath and short fuse. She also informed Leo firmly that she was Zilpha's kin, showing the healing cuts on her palms. She then effortlessly translated Tommy's threat: that if Leo would stare at her tits one moment longer he'd be granted a new nickname: No-eyed-Leo.
Let's say their presents in the Dryad Inn left an impression. And a large depth, because besides a bunch of stools and a window, Leo had to be taken to the hospital. Not due to Tommy's fists, no Tommy had been the one being jumped at by three of Leo's close pals.
The bar fight that emerged wasn't honorable, it was a bloody mess. It involved fists, a headbut, a variety of shattering glasses and a bunch of screaming women, among them was Maria who pleaded loudy for Tommy to drop the broken bottle and for heaven's sake not stick it in that bloke's face!
Tommy did not, merely because One-Eyed-Leo chose to have a fucking stroke in the middle of the chaos.
So, instead of heading home, the duo was heading for Buxton's hospital. Which of course was all across the damn town. And of course it started pouring again and of fucking course they had to wait for four god damn hours in order to see the patient.
Maria and Tommy spend their time at the Inn across the hospital and washed their sorrows away with Guinnish. The fact that they didn't have a penny to spend was easily resolved by Maria who told a heart wrenching lie about her uncle Leo who was rushed into surgery and might not survive the night. The shedding of a few tears had touched the heart of the taverner enough to get the pair drunk off charge. Which, in Maria's case was after three-quarter of her first glass and in Tommy's chase five.
It took another hour inside the hospital's waiting room before they could see One-Eye-Leo and after Tommy's attempt to strangle Leo using bedshieds the man was rather talkative, giving away the man he knew who'd take the jewels and sent a telegram to Zilpha.
The man in question turned out to be a post-office clerk who did not 'work' after office hours. Although 'Pete' had an impeccable record, you did not want to get on his black list. 'Pete' certainly would not fancy being woken in the middle of the night.
They slept under a bridge, between crates and barrels. It might have had some romantic aspect, for they drew close within each other's arms. But that had been a necessity, because it was so cold Tommy feared Maria's fingers would turn into ice and freeze off.
Neither of them slept that night, curled up against no-another and too miserable to enjoy the starry night sky and full moon.
'Pete' did not grant them a warm welcome, but lucky no guns were drawn, no fistfight encountered. No 'Pete' simply informed Maria about the whereabouts of the closet ladies room and how to open the reservoir of the last toilet.
Maria was away for about fifteen minute while Tommy waited in 'Pete' office and smoked the last few cigarettes from the man's package. When Maria returned her eyes glanced green with envy as she noticed how Tommy sucked on the last cigarette. There had been a twinge of guilt in Tommy's guts, but his smoke-clouded lungs hushed the feeling. For he'd been the one quit literally freezing stuck to the floor, granting Maria his coat, cap and shoes. There was a cough burning the back of his throat and Tommy knew it wasn't due to the smokes. Invisible weights tied him down and a massive headache formed between his temples, impaired him to grunts and nods.
'Pete' eventually got a phone call, hummed and tks'ed before finally relieving the pair of their burden; the deal was done. 'Pete' did not waste any time and sent out a telegram to Zilpha and shook hands with Tommy.
Leaving the post-office the full extent of Tommy's lack of self care started taking its toll. Now that the immediate pressure was off and the external stress diminished, his body was ready to throw the towel in the ring and shut down. There was a maximum number of sleepless nights and he'd reached his breaking point.
Of course he was too stubborn and a man so giving in wasn't an option. No Tommy tried to walk off the crippling insomnia, the preposterous amount of coke and the overkill of adrenaline. He managed to walk two blocks before his eyesight got blurry. He dragged himself forward for another block before his knees buckled and gave in. Sagging against a wall he signed repeatedly to Maria he was fine.
He vaguely recalled re-opening his eyes and watching Maria snapped her fingers repeatedly, inches away from his face. He'd tried to fill in the blanks and gawked up at her as she pressed held his jaw with both her hands. His physicallal state of emergency made her swear out loud, which Tommy considered an honorable accomplishment. Too bad all sounds diluted and his vision started to blur again.
The next thing Tommy recalled was being abandoned, with his flat cap back on and both their jackets realed around his shoulders as a blanket. He'd managed to keep his face in shape, but internally he screamed. For this wasn't the first time waking up and finding out someone disappeared without saying goodbye. At first he'd scanned the mass in search for her face, but as time passed dreadfully slow and the headache shattered his damaged brain he closed his eyes and bit through the pain; for he was a grown man but still felt like a child when it came to being rejected and left behind to fend for himself.
Although he'd never loved his father the immense weight of knowing he'd never been good enough had dragged him down his entire life. The man had deserted them, without a care in the world. For long he'd believed the breaking of his brain had happened in the tunnels, but as Tommy slumped against the wall, he realised his first breakingpoint had been their father's desertion. It had hurt, every day he'd wait on their doorstep desperate to catch a glance of their father's fedora or hear the rhythmic ticks of his cane. It did not matter that his father's cane mainly served for a whipping, or that their father's lips never slipped a loving word. No, because it's a child's natural instinct to link every one of his father's flaws to a personal weakness.
Up until this day Tommy firmly believed that their father's abandonment was his fault. And so his only purpose in life should be to bleed for his kin. He'd taken on the parental role and fit the glove perfectly. In order to protect the ones he loved he felt obligated to be alone, because there is a part inside every person that years for love and respect. And those important necessities did never come cheap, never out of charity. Indifference and greed ruled the streets of Small Heath and why should his poverty stricken city be anything different then the next?
In the middle of Buxton Tommy asked himself why this time, it would be any different? People left him behind, if he couldn't fit the bill. If he didn't perform well enough, people slowly but gradually walked away. That was his circle and every time he got trampled down he'd dust off his knees and destroy another sharp of his sensitivity. And he'd succeed every time, because that was just easier than comprehending the pain abandonments caused.
Tommy woke up when Maria kneeled down next to him, informing him she'd nicked a few pennies for a phone call. Her face had been red and guilt ridden and for a moment he simultaneously wanted to curse her mere existence and cling to her so tightly she'd be unable to ever run away.
Shoulder to shoulder they managed to cross half a block to a phone booth and after an eternity of waiting Arthur's car appeared.
"-Well Tom, I guess that explains it all then ey?" Arthur sneered and glared angrily through his rear-view mirror to the pair in the back of the car, "so is this how it's ganna be? You and your sweetheart running off on your own accord whenever it pleases you?"
Maria's body stiffened at the remark and increased the space between herself and Tommy.
"-Pol's out of the hospital," Arthur continued, "thought I'd inform you about your own blood. Still no word or sign of John though. But who knows, maybe I'll get a call from that Chinese cunt of his, so I can drop all my fucking things and pick another brother up. How about that Tom, huh? Dopping all my fucking things to retrieve another fuck up."
Arthur's stiff-back and broad shoulders tensed and instantly the car stopped.
"How about fucking that huh?" Arthur arched over his shoulder and shouted red-faced: "how about fucking that? Do you know how hard it is ey Tom, to keep Poll from screaming her tits off 'bout that backstabbing vixen, - that'll be you lass, that's you-," he spat at Maria, "and keeping our business running one my own! 'Cause Poll ain't fit to work, John's gone, Ada is- Ada. And you left me Tommy, my fucking right hand. My so-called advisor. Well lemmy give you a good piece of advice Tom! You throwing me in front of the lions is a once in a lifetime mistake and next time your brain fails you, know that I'll personally hunt you down and- and…" words failed Arthur and resolutely turned back around.
"Don't ever do this again brother." Arthur finished his speech and focussed back on the road managing to make the two persons in the back of the car feel like absolute dirt.
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