Magic Tomatoes

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Abi was about to become the last person in Pimlico Village, London, to give up on Fix.

Yes, he was the local grocer who sold him forty small plastic bags everyday for Fix to stuff weed in, the very despicable mature man who felt that any minute Allah was to punish him with lightening for exchanging his pound coins for notes- just for the buzz he felt when being called ” boss” every night.

That very morning Abi had done his morning prayer in the same stolen t-shirt bought off from Fix, this notorious fifteen year old who had even made his mother ill.

A new stock of cherry tomatoes was dumped by the delivery man.

” These are the smaller version of myself!” said Lesly Windrum, the enlightened old schizophrenic from the third floor upstairs.

Hearing this, Abi dropped the customer’s change all over, and the lights flickered again. The electrician was four hours late already.

This was a message from Allah. So he viciously hid the tomato case behind the counter. Then he looked at his watch. It was a Hugo Boss that Fix had sold to him- and it hurt Ali’s eyes.

It was going to be a long day til Fix turned up at his shop, whispering “hello, Boss. Anything for me?”

But as Destiny has it’s own funny way of synchronizing, Fix turned up at 4 PM. He needed baby milk again for his secret son or Suzy, the betrayed mother, would give his name to the Doctor and reveal his fatherhood.

Fix had that smile on him, this different kinda a smile he only put on when he needed something off credit.

” ok I’ll give you your milk boy. Stay here, I have got something for you.”

“Thanks, said Fix. You’re a sick devil. And I’m not a boy.”

All customers were served quickly but roughly. Abi put finger on his lips as if he were about to pass on  a deadly secret:

 

” I got new stock today. “Magic Tomatoes”. They’re grown at the feet of an old volcano that has just erupted. See. You take one. It’s like gas pumping you up.”

“What?”[sociallocker][/sociallocker]

 

[sociallocker]

” Yes. You take it, you become superman. You clean the house. After you clean the house, makes you wanna write. You take paper and you write down your future.”

“Um. That’ s cool.”

” Wait I’m not finished. After you design your future plan, your heart is filled with soapy love. You love everybody again and makes you go apologise. Makes you in peace with everyone.”

“Weird.”

“You’ll never feel like this before. But you can only take one a day. Twenty quid for you.”

“Shut up and gimme some of that shit. I’ll pay you as usual.”

“No. I want the money now. This is special shit”

“What’ the matter with you today?”

” Okay. I’l give you Suzy’s  milk and the magic tomatoes, and you pay me next week in clean money. I don’ wanna have no blood on my hands.”

“Please. Give me that shit!”

Abi  said the shortest prayer he knew and popped the cherry tomato into his mouth. He was thanked with a gangster’s  twist of the eyebrow.

The electrician came in. Abi pointed out

“Not now, you’re late, got to do my prayer now.”

” I can wait.”

*   *   *

The week was this time different and unexpected; Fix was coming around everyday at a different time for his magic tomato, to not be spotted by the dealers.

Talks in the neighbourhood spoke about the young lad having started window cleaning with his elder brother, having also gotten back together with Suzy and even being seen pushing the pram in the park.

He wasn’t getting anymore plastic bags. The nasties appeared nervous while looking for him.

” You got his new number?”

As Abi was very concerned about the outcome of his trick, Fix’s father walked in on Sunday looking serious.

“I’ve got a good spanking to give you Abi. ”

Electricity through the grocer’s  body rushed. Oh, no. Had his mission failed? Had he done something terribly wrong?

Not so. The wounded father trembled and threw himself into Abi’s arms, sobbing

“My child, my man, you gave me my child back. This is for You, my dad’s Army Veteran Watch. Put it on. Take it. My wife is getting better and has asked me to bring some vegetables home from here. Magic vegetables, ha, ha, ha! You are a snake-charmer!

” and the baby is getting christened next month, we’re grandparents now!”

Abi  looked as his watch, at his tomatoes, at the plastic little bags and the lights flickered again.

A couple of dealers from Fox’s previous gang came in and looked down as they met Fox’s father’s eyes. After hesitating, one said

“Can we have three of your magic tomatoes please boss?”

 

The End

[/sociallocker]

 

More Humour here.

 

 

The Earmuffs

IMG_1991Danny “the promising kid” was never to forget that day at the bicycle sheds.

It was snowing and his mother appeared out of nowhere, holding a pair of earmuffs.

“Danny! What do you think you’re doing out here in this kind of weather with no earmuffs? I told you to take them with you this morning! You are not a Russian Soldier so don’t you play the brave boy!”

Giving in as he put those wolly earmuffs on, he never imagined what consequences not standing up to mothering would bring immediately.

As the woman left in a hurry and nodding, his friends carried on smoking

“You need earmuffs kid or your mummy won’t breastfeed you tonight!”

Like flying gossip, the scene would be heard of even among the younger classes. End of “promising Danny”. No friends left, bullying on Facebook and catching bad habits at home, where he hid like a headgehog.

The school’s drug dealer pretended to be his only friend and got him into weed.

His mother was too busy with work and Charity work, devoted to saving the world but having ” aborted” her 15 year-old.

Danny eventually fled the nest to find himself homeless in London.[sociallocker][/sociallocker]

Homeless, but Popular. His family had been told not to launch a missing persons campaign because in this case it could make Danny more vulnerable.

For three years he had established  his ” begging spot” near Victoria station and lived by the day. He had even gained himself a name among the Eastern European mafias who charged for protection in the area.

But one day  while he was eighteen and didn’t even know his own age, a lady with a familiar voice slammed a coffee.

“Here’s a coffee drink for Christmas. Your ears look frozen. ”

A burning cup of coffee and a hand spitting diamonds.

As their eyes met, the charity freak recognised her own son, a man now, with wise and reproachful eyes. She felt vertigo in his gaze.

” Maybe I need a pair of earmuffs ” he said in a gentle, controlled voice.

She knelt down not to faint, took as much strength from her motherhood as she could and cried

“Danny, I’m so happy I found you. I will never have enough words to express how sorry I am, because you left your Facebook account open and I found out about the bullying…. please take my hand. Please. Good. Your ears are frozen. Your room is waiting for you and dad needs help with the business. It’s your nineteenth birthday on Sunday. Dad will sort out some help with the weed thing only if you want to. And all your schoolfriends have a group called “Find Danny M” which I follow.”

As passers by were leaving the last coins Danny would be to gather, he picked up his rucksack, not wanting in any way to lose his very precious sleeping bag, and followed his mum to the car.

It smelt the same. An Eastern mafia boss took note of the unusual scene as he got arrested again two minutes later.

“Mum. It’s so lovely and warm in here. Can I smoke some weed?”

“You can, son, but only if it’s for medical purposes.”

“I won’t then.”

And he threw his little bag out of the window to a fellow homeless  friend who was waving goodbye at him.

The End.