Mr Dibbs Fixes Bikes

34

After returning from the police station, his mum had said nothing and she still said nothing. But, then again, he'd said next to nothing as the coppers had asked him question after question about the fire. They tried to appear friendly, tried to tease out information, told him they understood him and that they knew it was difficult to fit in in a brand new area, but he had kept his mouth shut. They acted like he'd never sat in one of those rooms before, accused of something he hadn't done.

Mum had argued with them, of course, eventually. Not loudly, not shouting, but not letting them get away with leading questions, and they kept accusing her of being too emotional, of being confrontational and wondering what she had to hide. Mum, too, had had her fair share of these interviews. She'd had to go through it herself, as Frederick had and as Dad had. And so had every black kid Frederick had ever known had had to go through it. Presumed guilty until proven innocent, as far as Five-oh were ever concerned.

Frederick could never have done anything like that. To burn down something so precious and important to the old man smacked of personal nastiness. Whoever had done it had targeted the old man because he knew Frederick and the list of possibles that fitted that description came down to one. Micky. He just didn't have any proof and no way of finding any and he didn't doubt it was Micky that had called the police saying he had seen Frederick acting 'shifty' in the old man's garden. White boy's lies versus black boy's truth. There was no contest.

He hadn't dared move from his place on the chair since they had returned. Sat, watching rubbish on the tv for hours until Mum had phoned for a take-away and then sitting back in the same place after eating. All in silence and, throughout that silence, Mum had twirled her phone against her leg, over and over, for hours. Lift. Twirl. Tap against her leg. Lift. Twirl. Tap against her leg. She hadn't checked her messages once.

Something bothered her and, despite her vigorous defence of him in the cop shop, Frederick started to wonder if she had only defended him because she was his mum, but, secretly, she thought he had done it. Lift. Twirl. Tap. Lift. Twirl. Tap. Over and over. Her eyes locked upon the tv screen but watching nothing. He wasn't certain, but it didn't feel like one of her moods. No, that wasn't right. It did feel like one of her moods, only something was different.

"I didn't do nothing, Mum. Swear down." He had held it inside for hours and couldn't keep silent any longer. "I'd never do nothing against Mister Dibbs. Never! He's one of the nicest geezers I've ever known, Mum. I couldn't!"

"I know, love." Lift. Twirl. Tap. Lift. Twirl. Tap.

The tv switched to a different show, the adverts fading into that pointless flash of graphics people called an 'ident' for that channel, then fading to the start of the show, a cacophony of noise crashing from the sound bar under the tv. The screeching of tires, car doors slamming, shouts and running. Of course it was a cop show and Frederick had had enough of cops, both real and imaginary, to last him the rest of his life, and he knew the actual rest of his life would only add to that tally forever.

Still Mum said nothing more than those words. Just because she said she knew, didn't mean that she did. Every time this happened, he would find himself beginning to doubt his own innocence. So determined were the Old Bill, every time, that, though they had no evidence, couldn't have any evidence, he was guilty, they almost convinced him. Maybe one day that constant drip of accusation could end with him giving up? Stop fighting the inevitable and just get sent down for something he hadn't done? Frederick wondered how many times that had happened? How many other black boys simply confessed to something they weren't guilty of just to stop the never-ending pointed fingers. Of course, admitting guilt where there was none wouldn't stop it. It'd only justify it all the more.

"Am I in trouble?" He wanted to kick the tv's screen in. Coppers laughing and joking as they arrested, surprise, surprise, a black kid. "'Cos I just want to go upstairs and play my games and then sleep so I can go see Mister Dibbs in the morning."