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You Asked What's Wrong

Page 3

They didn’t find no more weed ’cause we only had two between us. They took Errol away in the van and I was left sitting on the bench with the packages. They wouldn’t tell me where the police station was, just waved their hands around when I asked. I sat there, sort of out of it. This older white woman came over, asks me what’s going on, says she’ll find out where’s the police station. We went across the street. At the barbers they knew and I went off to find Errol. But it was a long way, they told her that at the barbers. I was wearing my heels and carrying all the packages. I was walking and then I gave up.

That’s the bad thing I did, I gave up. Maybe it was the weed. I felt funny, not myself, kinda knocked out. I walked for a while. Then I turned round and walked back. I sat on the bench. I was confused. It was getting dark. I wasn’t thinking straight. I know I did the wrong thing but I didn’t know it then. Believe me, I’m real sorry I did it. I just left the packages on the bench and got the train and bus home. I lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

I wish I hadn’t. I’m not proud of myself. But I never thought it was as bad as what Errol did. He didn’t get home till the early hours. He was roughed up by the police. And he started acting like a lunatic. He took it out on me. That’s the first time in all the years he raised his hand to me. Not that bad, I’m not blaming him. Blame myself more. And the fucking cops.

The trouble is something’s changed between me and Errol. It’s like he don’t trust me no more. That’s what’s going on, he acts like he don’t trust me.  So how am I supposed to trust him? I never know what he’s about to do. That afternoon changed everything.

It’s a sad story, isn’t it? Not the saddest you ever heard, but sad enough. Don’t know if it’ll get any better. It’s just on half a year now and we like strangers. I miss the old Errol. Like I said it’s a sad story. Well, you asked what’s wrong.  

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