Fair Game Read Free Page A

man wouldn’t live much longer than his ailing wife. Once he had joined his Maker, it would be Crazy Boy who ran the gar and who administered justice within the Somali community. Crazy Boy gestured at the teenagers at the adjacent table as Taban put down his glass and smacked his lips. ‘We are here today to pass judgement on two boys who attacked and injured another. That boy, Nadif, is now in hospital. He was stabbed in the stomach and his throat was slashed.’
    ‘He will live?’ asked Taban.
    ‘Yes, he will live, but he will be scarred for life,’ said Crazy Boy.
    Taban looked at the man sitting between the two elders opposite him. ‘You are Nadif’s father?’
    The man nodded.
    ‘I trust God will care for your child and hasten his recovery,’ said Taban.
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Your wife is not here?’
    ‘My wife passed away, five years ago.’
    ‘I am sorry for your loss, may God watch over her soul,’ said Taban. He looked over at the next table. ‘Those are the boys who hurt him?’ he asked Crazy Boy.
    Crazy Boy nodded as he stared at the two teenagers. One of them, the younger, was listening to an MP3 player, his head bobbing back and forth in time to the music. The other was toying with a bottle of sauce. Taban tapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention. ‘Take out the earphones,’ he said, pointing at the teenager with the MP3 player. ‘Show some respect.’ The teenager did as he was told and stared sullenly at the tabletop.
    The father of the boys continued to stare straight ahead but the mother smiled at Taban. ‘We are so sorry for what happened,’ she said. ‘My boys are good boys, they have never been in trouble before.’
    That was a lie, Crazy Boy knew. The two teenagers were well known in the area as bullies and thieves. But he held his tongue.
    ‘They have apologised to the boy?’ asked Taban.
    ‘Not yet,’ said the mother. ‘But they will. They will go to the hospital and tell Nadif that they are sorry for what they did. They will beg his forgiveness.’
    Taban sipped his tea.
    ‘We need to agree on compensation,’ said Nadif’s father. ‘We need to agree an amount. His injuries are bad, he will not be able to work for many months.’
    ‘Does he have a job?’ asked Taban, placing his glass of tea back on the table.
    ‘He is a mechanic.’
    ‘And what does a mechanic earn?’
    The father shook his head. ‘I do not know. He gave me money every week but I do not know how much he earned.’
    ‘Five hundred pounds a week,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘More, perhaps. That’s what a mechanic would earn. More with overtime.’
    ‘Does four thousand pounds sound reasonable?’ asked Taban.
    Nadif’s father looked across at Crazy Boy. ‘That is a pittance,’ he said. ‘My son almost died. They attacked him like dogs. For what? For his wallet and his mobile phone?’
    ‘Is that true?’ Taban asked the mother of the two boys.
    She opened her mouth to speak but her husband held up his hand to silence her. ‘The boy spoke ill of my daughter, their sister,’ the man said. ‘He called her a whore, he said that he had seen her with a white boy.’
    ‘That is a lie!’ snapped Nadif’s father. ‘My son did nothing. He said nothing. They attacked him and now he lies in hospital.’
    ‘Did they steal his wallet and phone?’ Taban asked the father of the boys.
    ‘Both have been returned,’ said the man. ‘But that is not why they were fighting with Nadif. Nadif abused their sister and that is why they struck him.’
    ‘They slashed him with knives,’ said Nadif’s father. ‘He said nothing about their sister. That is a lie.’
    ‘They have admitted their guilt and compensation will be paid,’ said Taban slowly, choosing his words with care.
    ‘This isn’t right,’ said Nadif’s father. ‘If I had gone to the police they would be in prison now. But they sit over there as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Do they look sorry for what they did to my