The Frame by Baden

The girl was the only one who could change the bulb, lanky bean of a thing, lives next door with her mum. Never seen her Da around. The rest of us—well, there was the old punk Mick who was too sozzled and busy dribbling insults at Ranger who has the face of a bulldog and legs to match. You’d need a cannon to get him up there. And Mossy. Plenty of leg on that lad, but he was conked, snoring and spitting dreams, with a Cornetto dripping over his crotch that I’d have to clean up, so I wasn’t changing no lightbulb too, and, besides, I’m allergic to electricals.

Seb had opened the door and the girl was in the hall and he called her in and she did it without a bother. Sometimes you get lucky. What wasn’t lucky was Mick remarking ‘nice tits’ as she finished the job, which got Ranger riled up, calling him a ‘pedo’ and squaring up to him. Mick laughing like a maniac and the girl looking disgusted. ‘Thanks Luv’, I said and saw her out.

*

It was about three o’clock and I was coming back home from school and I was just about to go in home when a man from next door put his head out his door and he said can you help me and I said ok. Actually I don’t know if he lives there or not, there’s always people going in and out. Ma told me stay away from them because they're probably on drugs so I don’t know why I said ok but he seemed fine but it did look pretty dodgy in there. Mum was right was what I was thinking when I saw the state of them, all ugly and stupid looking. But I still wasn’t afraid anyway and the man just said would I change the light bulb for them. I thought why don’t you just stand on a chair dummy but I’m very tall so I knew I could easily reach up there though I had to go near the three smelly men on the couch. One was asleep with an ice cream spilled all over him and two were just gawking at me. One of them had punk red hair and a wrinkly ratty face and the other looked like a kind of muscley midget but he had a nicer face. He looked like my uncle who does the roads. It only took me two seconds to reach up and take the old lightbulb out and then the man from the door gave me the new one and I had to stretch a bit to get it in properly and when I was doing that the punk man said ‘nice tits’. I must have gone beetroot, what a pervert! and then his friend the midget got angry with him and wanted a fight but the punk man was just laughing at him. I couldn’t get out of there quick enough, I don’t know if I’ll tell my Ma. I’ll probably get in trouble knowing her. What a pervert though I’m never going in there again.

*

I’ve asked myself many times why I called the girl in to change the lightbulb. Why I even looked out the door when such an operation was not beyond my own immediate capabilities with the aid of some readily available appurtenance. It’s one of those things I suppose, a decision makes itself and you go along.
*

Anyways this was obviously a problem because I needed both of them on the job and now Ranger was telling me he wasn’t going to work with a ‘fucking pedo’ and Mick had stopped laughing and was getting aggro too. The developments became even more worrying when Mick said right and pulled out a shiv and said Call me a pedo one more time and Ranger said Put that down, you cunt. Let’s do this like men. And Mick started laughing again and went right up to him with the shiv and said Make me.

I knew Mick wasn’t taking the piss because he has a history. I didn’t know Ranger too well but if it came down to it and Mick went berserk on him I didn’t fancy his chances.

*

Woke up with ice cream all over me fookin’ crotch. What a fookin’ cunt to wake up ta. Musta had the munchies. Lucky I didn’t burn me house down, musta smoked meself to sleep. Then I thought, I’m not in me fookin’ house, I’m at Gerry’s. And the boys were in front of me all standing around in a circle. What’s this, a fookin’ seance, I said. Stay where ya are, Mossy, said Gerry. I will in me fook, stay here covered in fookin’ Cornetto. I’ll get meself cleaned up first then I’ll stay wherever you fookin’ want. So, I got up and Gerry came over and took me to the jack's to help me as if I couldn’t do it meself. What does he think I am, fookin’ 4 years old?

*

I admire the way he handled the situation actually. If anything that gave me more confidence. I was starting to think… Well, you get what you pay for. But there are limits. In any case, taking the little fellow out substituted an assault for a potential murder and though it temporarily left us a man short, it was probably the least troublesome option.

*

Sit down, Mossy, sit down, sit down and listen, all this shit. Wha’? Only this morning they were telling me to shut the fook up and have a smoke and now they want me on the fookin’ job? And what about the midget? I said. He can’t make it no more, Gerry said. Yeah, Mick, pipes in, he can’t make it no more, turns out he had a small problem. And then he starts giggling like a fookin’ girl. And Mick tells him to shut up and I say, OK, fook him anyway, what’s me cut?

*

“So, he comes over on Wednesdays at about half three after he drops that little prick of a son of his off. He looks like an accountant, only more evil, a dirty evil nerd he is. In a suit. With glasses and a briefcase. He always has his briefcase even when there’s nothing fucking in it. He’ll drive up in a blue Beamer, get out slowly, and look around like he thinks someone is looking at him. He’s a sus bastard that way.”

“If there’s nothin in the briefcase, where’s the fookin’ frame?’

“Oh, for fucks sake…”

“Leave it off, Mick.”

“Allow me to interject. Mossy hasn’t been part of our earlier deliberations, so it’s natural enough that we need to bring him up to speed on certain details. The briefcase is irrelevant except for identification purposes. Once you’ve got him marked, follow him to whichever of the apartments he goes to first. That’s where the frame will be.”

“Can we make him eat his own balls?”

“Ignore Mick. It’s his sense of humour. We’re all on the same page with keeping this simple, right lads?”

“That was what we agreed and that’s what I expect. I want the frame. Not any extra complications. We’ve had one already and that’s enough as far as I’m concerned.”

“Is it too much to ask what you need the fookin’ thing for. What’s so special?”

“Seb doesn’t need to tell us no personal reasons, he just needs to pay up when we do the job. This is the thing. Get the fucking frame. No fucking around. Are you up for it or not?”

*

The stupid ugly rat man and his friends were outside again last night and I didn’t want to walk past them, I’m not afraid but I don’t want them to say something to make me go beetroot again. They’re horrible. So, I crossed over the other side of the road even though it would take longer that way and I saw Darren’s dad getting out of his BMW and they were staring at me, so I said to Darren’s dad, Is Darren home yet? And he said, Yes, I just dropped him off. And I said, Do you know them over there? I don’t even know why I said that but he looked over at the rat gang and he didn’t look too happy and he said, No, why? And I said, Nothing, bye and walked a bit up the road and then crossed over again to my side and Darren’s dad was looking at the rat gang who were looking away and then back at me but I just went in home. I think he drove off then.

*

“What do you mean, who’s Napoleon? Fucking Napoleon, the saucy French midget who shagged a bunch of women and took over Europe. Did a cameo on Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Don’t pretend you’re not old enough. Anyway, I saw this show about him invading Russia. Was doing great but you know what they did when he got to Moscow? They burned the fucker to the ground.“

“Who did?”

“Them, the Russians, their own city. They burned Moscow down rather than give it to Napoleon and then they buggered off and left him have the ashes. Get it? So, he had to go back the way he came. In Winter. In minus fifty degrees—or whatever it was. Pissing icicles, the whole army.

And that’s when they attacked. The Cossacks. Big hairy lads on horses. You think they gave a shit about the cold? They were born for it. “

“What are you prattling on about, Gerry.”

“Strategy is what I’m talking about, Mick. That is called strategy. You fight without fighting. You’re outnumbered, overwhelmed, you think you’re fucked and then you get a strategy and you win. That’s what I’m fucking telling you.”

“But he saw us.”

*

I think I knew when our mark got suspicious that things were going—to employ the colloquial—pear shaped. And a feeling was growing in me that the loss of the frame was less important than the cost of chasing it. But I also knew I wasn’t going to stop chasing it. I knew I would go on. Not because I trusted this bunch. Not because I had real confidence in them. But because there was still a chance and I wanted it.

*

Just one look and I was out of there. I don’t take chances. I didn’t get where I am today by taking chances. I didn’t get to where I am today by not taking chances either. But I know when to and when not to. You don’t do the business I’m in and not know sus when you see it. You know it like it’s got fucking bells on, mate. That’s how I work. That’s how I move my stuff. In silence, incognito, when there’s no sus around. No fuzz, no narcs, no nasty little urban trash wanting what they never deserved, what they never worked for. What you have, you hold, mate. I know that. I’m not stupid. You keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes upon the road. All times. I’ll be back. At the right time, I’ll be where I need to be.

*

I love her. It must be that. Fuck the lads.This is different. I’m in something. And I want to stay in it. I don’t know what she wants. I don’t know if she wants me. But why am I spending my time with those cunts when I can be with her? They’d think I’m mad riding my bike around and around the block waiting for her to come out. They’d take the piss. Fuck them. It’s like the difference between two-days-old McDonald’s and the best meal you ever had, or being at the dentist and being at the beach. I used to like hanging around with those pricks but fuck them all. This is heavy. They’re my friends. I know, I know. They would take the piss though. It’s fucking ten at night and I’m riding around in circles with merch, stolen fucking merch in my bag! For her! Don’t even know what I’m going to say where I got it from. What the fuck am I even going to say to her. Robbed me own Dad, me own flesh and blood. I’m mad, I must be going fucking mad.

*

Empty, empty is what they told me. Everything, everywhere. And they still had the gall to ask me for the money. I’m a patient man. I consider myself to be one of the most patient and rational people on the face of this earth.This piece of shit earth. I am what you would call an educated man. I am an experienced man. I am a tolerant man. That is what I am, and what am I not? I am not one of these fucking lowlife trash motherfucking losers who constantly fuck everything up. And you might ask me then why I got involved with this human garbage, why I sullied myself by involving them in my plan, what brainworm invaded my grey matter that so corrupted it that I should even for one millisecond consider seeking help from these parochial pissant plebs, and I say, I say this only, I say… I say….

*

Darren, it’s beautiful. Thank you… thank you. All we need now is a picture to put in it.