— They’re pretty cool, she giggles.
— Good stuff. So where would you like to go this affie?
— Skatlin.
A cloak of sadness falls over Lennox’s shoulders. They are heading home tomorrow and he’ll miss the kid. Trudi has gotten attached to her too. He’s begun to enjoy their playful collusion against him, usually regarding the forthcoming wedding plans. But there’s something he wants to do with her before leaving. And for that they need to be alone.
The food comes and Trudi regards her fiance, how he looks sweetly dumb when he eats something, as if lost in it. He’s finally wearing shorts, which she approves of, his legs losing their milk-bottle whiteness. Tianna delves into a bag to show off something to the table.
Lennox turns to Ginger. — How’s it worked out, Eddie?
— An awfay sweet wee lassie, and she’s been nae bother at aw, Ginger says. — In fact, her being here’s really helped Dolores, cause she doted on that fuckin dug.
After a spell Trudi raises a downy wrist to check her watch. Lennox takes the hint, and he, Trudi and Tianna say their good-byes and head outside, getting into Trudi’s rented car and driving down to Miami Beach. As they leave the Julia Tuttle Causeway and drive down palm-lined streets with handsome stucco homes and lush tropical gardens cutting into the bay, Lennox thinks this is a spot a newcomer could take his Colombian, Haitian, Cuban or Scots family and they’d proudly say: this cunt’s done awright. And how the American dream is never the property of Americans, but belongs to aspirational citizens of the globe, and how it will fade and die when the US seals its borders up, as it will inevitably do.
Trudi parks at a garage on Alton, then they head down to Lincoln, the upmarket strip of restaurants, bars, galleries and designer stores that is Miami Beach’s glitzy beating heart. Lennox, an orange-and-black backpack hanging from one shoulder, wants to stop and look at the Britto Central Gallery as an appeasement to Trudi, just to go through it quickly, believing that if you see something that moves you, it’s best not to linger too long and dwell on it, and ruin some of your capacity for wonderment. But Trudi isn’t keen, instead taking Tianna into a nearby fashion store. Afterwards, they call in at an Internet cafe on Washington, where they have a coffee and do some Netsurfing. Tianna and Trudi check out Scottish Wedding websites, while Lennox goes on to Jambos’ Kickback. He sees Maroon Mayhem’s last entry into the Craig Gordon thread, which had little to do with the Scotland goal-keeper.
I deeply regret the things I said to Ray of Light. It’s no excuse, but I was drunk at the time. Anybody who knows me will tell you that I’m not in the habit of behaving that way.
Lennox types a reply into the thread.
No worries. These things happen. My head wasn’t in the best of places, so I apologise for my overreaction. I also know what drink can do. If we ever meet I’ll buy you a beer – or maybe we’ll both stick to tomato juice!
Yours in Hearts
Ray
As they move from their terminals to settle down in the dedicated cafe section of the premises, Tianna says to Lennox, — So where is it you’re taking us? Not here?
— No, it’s close by. But there’s something I’ve got to explain first, he says. — Those dreams we were talking about, mind I promised to tell you about them?
— Yes.
— Ray, Trudi intervenes, — Tianna doesn’t want to hear—
— Please, give me a moment, Lennox is insistent, — and I want you to hear about this too. I’ve never told anybody before. Not my mum, dad, anybody. It’s something I dream about a lot, something that happened. He looks over his shoulder. The place is almost deserted as they sit in a cramped corner, sipping at the coffee or milk and eating chocolate-chip cookies.
Lennox speaks softly, but authoritatively. There is no cop in his voice, at least to his own ears. — I had a very good friend. His name was Les, he tells Tianna. — When we were round about your age, we were out on our bikes, going through a long, dark tunnel, like a disused train tunnel. Some really bad, disturbed people were waiting in there and they caught us. At first we thought they wanted to steal our bikes, he says, looking at her for understanding.
Tianna dunks the cookie into her milk. She looks up warily. Trudi’s bottom jaw tightens and slides out towards him. — This is Les Brodie and you?
— Aye, he says, then turns back to Tianna. — I managed to get away, but not before they did something bad. I’ve never told anybody this before, but one of the men made me suck his penis.
— Ray, Trudi gasps, — that’s terrible, could you not tell the pol— She stops and looks at Tianna.
The young American girl has hung her head shamefully. But a small, defiant voice rises from her. — I know… Vince… he used to…
Lennox lifts her head up. — It’s not your fault. You’re a kid. I was just a kid. It wasn’t my fault. I never told anybody because I was ashamed and embarrassed. But it’s not me who should’ve felt that way. I did nothing wrong. It wasn’t my fault. He takes his hand away.
Her head stays up. Her eyes locked on his. — No. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t our fault, Ray.
— They got a hold of Les. He didn’t manage to get away. I tried to find help, but it took so long. They did bad things, terrible things, to him.
— Did they do… she whispers, casting a privacy-checking gaze over the cafe, — like, sex things with a man’s penis inside him?
— Yes, Lennox says. — Yes, they did. After this, Les was very angry for a while. He was angry because it wasn’t fair what they did to him. But he was so raging that he caused himself and other people a lot of hurt. Then he realised that by doing this, they were winning. They were controlling him still. All that anger, not going to the people that caused it, but back at himself and everybody he loved, right?
— Yes, she nods. — Yes, that’s right.
— I’ve tried to find those people who did that to Les. And me. I haven’t done so yet. But I will. I’ll never stop.
— You won’t stop because you’re good, Ray. You’re a good person, she tells him.
— No, I won’t stop because I don’t like what they do. My friend Les is the good person, because he was big enough to get over it. Do you understand?
Yes, it was true. Trudi shares a simultaneous notion with him: Ray Lennox is stunted in his emotional growth. Part of him will always be that fearful little boy in the tunnel. The rest, the kick-boxing, the policework, the hunting of nonces, it’s all a futile attempt to negate that. As long as he has to do the job, he’s stuck in that mode.
She can feel the frightening honesty bursting from him, compelling her to mirror his behaviour, to confess, to start their married life with a clean slate.
They leave the cafe in silence. Lennox wants to stop off at a Walgreens for some unspecified reason, and Trudi is disconcerted when he emerges with a small can of gasoline. They go back down Lincoln but he swings left at Meridian Avenue and they walk up a few featureless blocks. — Where are we going, Ray? Trudi asks in mounting concern.
— It’s not too far, Lennox says, as the art deco district starts to thin out, building slowly into north Miami Beach’s high-rise condo land. Passing the Convention Centre, the girls struggle in the heat to match Lennox’s driven stride.
But Tianna Marie Hinton suddenly remembers how she likes to walk, loved to walk in Mobile, and she’s in keen pursuit of him, feeling her feet hit the ground and arms swing, her essence rising up through her body. Not buried so deep inside her that the conquerors of her flesh would never be able to dig it out, but rippling and crackling around her in the heat and light. She thinks of what Ray said about Hank Aaron and the plate smashers in the restaurant.
Then, when they cross 19th Street, a startling sight greets them; to their right, a huge green hand rises into the air. At first it seems as if it belongs to a drowning body, but its reach into the azure sky is as defiant as it is pained. What initially appears to be a tangle of weeds wrapped round its wrist, is, on closer examination, a
