Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives) by Marita A. Hansen

Author:Marita A. Hansen [Hansen, Marita A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Behind the Lives
ISBN: 9781466240414
Amazon: 1466240415
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2011-09-13T05:00:00+00:00

29

Tama

Tama stretched, then swung his legs out of Naf’s bed. He yawned and looked around the room. Someone had tidied up while he’d slept. Before he’d zoned out the grey carpet had been covered in clothes and other stuff. Except for a beat-up guitar, it was now cleared away. He was surprised that he’d slept through the clean-up. He figured it must have been Mrs. Connor, because Naf didn’t know the definition of being quiet.

He glanced at the alarm clock. 2:06 PM in red digits flashed back. He hadn’t meant to sleep so long, but guessed the weekend had finally caught up with him.

Feeling hungry, he jammed his feet into his boots and headed for the kitchen. The sound of a beater stopped, followed by something being dropped in the sink. He entered and walked towards the dining-table.

“Hey, Mrs. Connor.”

“Hi, Tama. You want some pancakes?” Mrs. Connor transferred scoops of mixture onto the fry pan.

Tama bit his lip before a, ‘Shit yeah,’ came out and replaced it with a, “Yes, please.”

She smiled at him. “You want a drink too?”

He grinned back and nodded. He couldn’t help himself. Whenever Mrs. Connor smiled at him it always put a stupid expression on his face, like it did with Beth. God, she was one hot mother. Yeah, she was over forty, but she looked more like Beth’s older sister than her mum. She had the same jet-black hair and one helluva figure, now decked out in jeans, a green sweater and a frilly apron. Tama liked to rib Corey and Naf about how they couldn’t possibly be her kids, since they were too fucking ugly.

Once the mixture was sizzling in the pan, she took a bottle of juice from the fridge and handed it to Tama. She passed him a glass, then went back to the fry pan and flipped over the pancakes.

“Heard you’ve been in trouble,” she said.

“Hmm,” he replied, not wanting to get into it with her. Each time someone brought up the damn topic it made him feel worse.

Mrs. Connor transferred the pancakes to a plate, then scooped more mixture into the fry pan. “How’s your mother taking it?”

Tama scrubbed a hand down his face. Right on, just dish up more guilt onto his fucking plate. “I dunno. She wuz out when I went back.”

“You need to turn yourself in.”

“Nah, they’ll fuc...” He stopped his dirty mouth again. “I’m eighteen now; I’ll get prison time.”

“Yeah ... but you can’t keep running. Plus, you’re still young, Tama. You’ll probably only get a few years.”

Only a fucking few years? Shit, it was easy for her to say that. He shook his head. “I don’t even wanna spend a minute in jail.”

“Well, hun, you should’ve thought about that before you hurt that kid.”

“I didn’t mean to. It wuz an accident.”

“Then tell the police that. They showed up here last night—”

Tama bolted upright. “What didja tell them?”

“Calm down, love. I told them nothing, because I knew nothing. But I would like to drive you to the station.

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