“Dunno,” he said.
“You got no plans? No dreams?”
“Dunno. Maybe football. I’m not bad. Maybe that.”
“‘Maybe football,’” Pops repeated, smiling, taking the joint as Elijah passed it back to him.
“I’m OK at it,” Elijah said defensively, wondering if he was being gently mocked. “I’m pretty fast.”
“I’ll say you are,” Pops said, taking a long toke on the joint. “You like the Usain Bolt of Hackney.”
Pops dropped down on the mattress. He patted the space next to him and Elijah sat too. It might have been the weed but he felt himself start to relax.
“Listen, younger, I’m going to tell you something. You won’t think it’s cool, but I know what I’m talking about and you’d do yourself a favour to listen, alright?” He settled back so that he was leaning against the wall. “It’s good to have dreams but a man needs a plan, too. Maybe you are decent at football, maybe you are good enough to make it, but how many kids do you know from these ends who’ve done it? Maybe you can think of one but I don’t know any. Football is a dream, right, and, like I say, it’s good to have dreams, but a man’s got to have a plan, too. A realistic one, just in case his dreams don’t pay off. You know what I’m saying?”
“What about the street?”
“Seriously, younger? The street can be a laugh, you don’t get too deep into it, but the street ain’t no plan.”
“You’re doing it.”
“Only for now. It’s not a long term thing.”
“I know people who do alright.”
“The kids shotting drugs?”
“Nah, that’s just baby steps, I mean the ones above them.”
“Listen to me, Elijah––there ain’t no future on the street. Some brothers do make it through. I know some who started off as youngers, like you, younger than you, then they work their way up with shotting and tiefing until they become Elders, and then some of them keep out of trouble long enough and get made Faces. But, you look, every year, some of them get taken out. Some get lifted by the Feds, others ain’t so lucky and those ones get shot and end up in the ground. Like Darwin, innit? Survival of the fittest. You want, we could have a little experiment––we could start with a hundred young boys, kids your age, and I reckon if we came back five years later to see how they be getting on maybe one or two of them would still be making their way from the street. The others are out, one way or another. Banged up or brown bread. I don’t know what you’re like when it comes to numbers but me, it’s like how you are at football––I ain’t too bad at all. I’m telling you, younger, one hundred to one or two ain’t odds I’m that excited about.”
“What about today? You were out with us.”
“I know––you think I sound like a hypocrite and that’s fair enough. Maybe I am. But I ain’t saying stealing stuff is bad. It ain’t right that some people have everything they want and others––people like us––it ain’t right that we don’t have shit. That stuff we nicked today, them people was all insured. We gave them a scare but they didn’t actually lose nothing. They’ll get it all back, all shiny and new. We deserve a nice phone, a camera, an iPod, whatever, and we ain’t going to get it unless we take it. I reckon that’s fair enough. I reckon that makes it alright to do what we did. But it ain’t got a future. You do it ten times, twenty times maybe if you get lucky, eventually you’re going to get nicked. Someone gets pulled and grasses you up. Your face gets on CCTV. The Feds have got to do something about it in the end. See, what we did this afternoon is short-term. If you want to have those things properly, without fear that they’re going to get taken away from you and you’re going to get banged up, then there ain’t nothing else for it––you got to play the game by their rules.”
“How?”
“You got to study. You got to get your exams. You probably think
“You got no plans? No dreams?”
“Dunno. Maybe football. I’m not bad. Maybe that.”
“‘Maybe football,’” Pops repeated, smiling, taking the joint as Elijah passed it back to him.
“I’m OK at it,” Elijah said defensively, wondering if he was being gently mocked. “I’m pretty fast.”
“I’ll say you are,” Pops said, taking a long toke on the joint. “You like the Usain Bolt of Hackney.”
Pops dropped down on the mattress. He patted the space next to him and Elijah sat too. It might have been the weed but he felt himself start to relax.
“Listen, younger, I’m going to tell you something. You won’t think it’s cool, but I know what I’m talking about and you’d do yourself a favour to listen, alright?” He settled back so that he was leaning against the wall. “It’s good to have dreams but a man needs a plan, too. Maybe you are decent at football, maybe you are good enough to make it, but how many kids do you know from these ends who’ve done it? Maybe you can think of one but I don’t know any. Football is a dream, right, and, like I say, it’s good to have dreams, but a man’s got to have a plan, too. A realistic one, just in case his dreams don’t pay off. You know what I’m saying?”
“What about the street?”
“Seriously, younger? The street can be a laugh, you don’t get too deep into it, but the street ain’t no plan.”
“You’re doing it.”
“Only for now. It’s not a long term thing.”
“I know people who do alright.”
“The kids shotting drugs?”
“Nah, that’s just baby steps, I mean the ones above them.”
“Listen to me, Elijah––there ain’t no future on the street. Some brothers do make it through. I know some who started off as youngers, like you, younger than you, then they work their way up with shotting and tiefing until they become Elders, and then some of them keep out of trouble long enough and get made Faces. But, you look, every year, some of them get taken out. Some get lifted by the Feds, others ain’t so lucky and those ones get shot and end up in the ground. Like Darwin, innit? Survival of the fittest. You want, we could have a little experiment––we could start with a hundred young boys, kids your age, and I reckon if we came back five years later to see how they be getting on maybe one or two of them would still be making their way from the street. The others are out, one way or another. Banged up or brown bread. I don’t know what you’re like when it comes to numbers but me, it’s like how you are at football––I ain’t too bad at all. I’m telling you, younger, one hundred to one or two ain’t odds I’m that excited about.”
“What about today? You were out with us.”
“I know––you think I sound like a hypocrite and that’s fair enough. Maybe I am. But I ain’t saying stealing stuff is bad. It ain’t right that some people have everything they want and others––people like us––it ain’t right that we don’t have shit. That stuff we nicked today, them people was all insured. We gave them a scare but they didn’t actually lose nothing. They’ll get it all back, all shiny and new. We deserve a nice phone, a camera, an iPod, whatever, and we ain’t going to get it unless we take it. I reckon that’s fair enough. I reckon that makes it alright to do what we did. But it ain’t got a future. You do it ten times, twenty times maybe if you get lucky, eventually you’re going to get nicked. Someone gets pulled and grasses you up. Your face gets on CCTV. The Feds have got to do something about it in the end. See, what we did this afternoon is short-term. If you want to have those things properly, without fear that they’re going to get taken away from you and you’re going to get banged up, then there ain’t nothing else for it––you got to play the game by their rules.”
“How?”
“You got to study. You got to get your exams. You probably think
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