Jeff Noon - Pixel Juice

Fiona and the other girls were so used to me, they more or less walked around naked when I was there, as though I wasn't there. I'd do drawings of them sometimes, in various states of undress. They made nice shapes. The only rule we had was that I would never get to see them actually doing it, the sex I mean. Anyway, I didn't want to.

Of course it all had to go wrong, and that's what I'll tell in the final part of my confessions, which you can read in tomorrow's paper.

I was a Junior Pimp for three weeks altogether, which doesn't seem very long, but how long have you ever been a Junior Pimp? tell me that. And anyway, I sure packed a lot of living into those three weeks, and made a whole lot of money. But everything has to end sooner or later, even the good things. This is how my career finished.

I had the police looking for me still. I'd see my face on television, and read about how I'd gone missing in the newspaper. But it wasn't the police that finished my career. And Dutch, he found out about what I was up to with his sister. He came round one time, saw me there, and when I told him the story, boasted about it, well, the look on his face was worth everything. Not even Dutch could top a scheme like this. But it wasn't Dutch that finished my career, he kept quiet about it, his sister made him promise.

Melvin, Fiona's old pimp, had been thrown into prison for beating up some bloke in the pub. Beat him up something terrible I heard, so it wasn't him that finished my career, he was out of the picture.

No, it was me that finished my career as a Junior Pimp.

It was a quiet night, a Tuesday. Fiona and I were in the flat alone, the other girls not needing me that night. Fiona didn't want to go out, she said, because nothing ever happened on a Tuesday. I said that she had to, because I was the boss, wasn't I? It was just a game between us in a way, but she really was treating me like her boss by then, she usually followed orders. We were sitting in her bedroom, with her lounging on the bed and me in the armchair. She was still in her scruffs, so I ordered her to get changed into something sexy, she had some outrageous gear, let me tell you. She stood up and pulled off her T-shirt, and then undid her jeans, rolled them down her legs. I was just sitting there watching her, thinking maybe I should get my sketchbook out, when something happened to me.

Do I have to spell it out? I hope it's all right to say the word erection in a family newspaper. Anyway, that's what happened, I got an erection. I got excited. I slid down the chair to hide it, but the more that Fiona dolled herself up, the bigger it grew. She looked over at me, saw something was wrong, and asked me what it was. I said, nothing, get ready. But then I said, no, don't get ready, let's just watch tele tonight, it's a Tuesday, nothing ever happens on a Tuesday. But she wouldn't listen, said that she'd got ready now, she wasn't going to waste it, no way.

So she went out to find a punter.

I was left alone in the flat. I was thinking about what had happened, trying to understand. I was tempted to get it out, my thingy I mean, but I didn't. I was scared, wasn't I? Scared of what might happen. Would I still be able to protect her now, with a stiffy in my pants? Anyway, eventually I heard Fiona coming back up the stairs, so I slipped into the living room, as usual. I heard her going along the corridor to her bedroom. It was quiet out there, no talking. Some punters are like that, they don't like talking.

So I waited as I always did, trying to read a little, but my mind couldn't stop imagining what was going on behind the wall. And the more I imagined, the worse it got, my excitement I mean. All these dirty pictures flashing through my head like a cinema show. Adults only.

I was hoping that nothing would go wrong tonight, but something did, because after about ten minutes I heard Fiona calling for me. Not wanting to, not really, I made my way slowly to the bedroom. My thingy was still tingling in my pants. I pushed open the door. Fiona's bedside light was on, all nice and glowing red it was, and the man had tied her to the bedposts. I could never tell with Fiona when things were bad, because sometimes she had to be bad just to keep the punters happy and coming back for more. But if she called, that meant it was really bad, not just pretend bad.

She was screaming now, and the punter was kneeling fully clothed astride her naked flesh and he was hitting her across the face again and again, like he hated her or something, like he hated the whole world and Fiona was unlucky enough to be on the end of it.

My excitement died like a squashed fly.

Of course I recognized the punter straight away, even from the back.

Dad, I said, real slow and quiet, like I couldn't quite believe it, which is certainly true. Well, that stopped him, as you can imagine. He turned to look at me, and his look of surprise, the shock on his face, well, I shall never forget it. Trouble was, it just made him even angrier, the surprise I mean. I tried my usual trick, with the innocent face and the smile and everything, but of course that didn't work any more, especially now. I mean, that was my own dad in there, the dirty so-and-so!

He jumped off the bed, and came straight for me, his hand raised to strike. He was screaming something blue at me for being there, as though I was to blame for his stupid randiness. But then I saw the look in his eye, the real look, which was kind of blank. And it came to me in a second, the so-and-so didn't recognize me! His own son, and all. He must've been out of his head with anger, or lust, or maybe both, most probably both. Or perhaps he was just denying me being there at all, out of guilt for instance.

Anyway, I tried to dodge away but he had me already, by the scruff of the neck. He picked me up, and I'm sure he was going to throw me against the wall. I'm sure of it. So I just screamed his name out loud, as loud as I could, not his real name, I mean I just shouted out DAD!!!! DAD, STOP IT!!!! Like that, as loud as that.

And he stopped. He stopped sudden like, still holding me aloft, like a baby. Then he let me down slowly. He walked back to the bed, more or less just collapsed on to the bed actually. My dad put his head in his hands, his head dropping down to his hands, and his body shrivelling to almost nothing. And then he started to cry.

Well, as you can imagine, that was the end of my career as a Junior Pimp. I didn't know what to say to my dad, so I didn't say anything. Instead I undid Fiona, and she got dressed. I had no excitement left in me, none at all.

Then my dad came over all apologetic and begged me not to tell Mum about him visiting a prostitute. I promised I wouldn't, just to get him to shut up, and to get him out of there. After he'd left, Fiona and I sat on the bed together, not saying hardly anything. My dad's money was lying on her bedside table, and she actually offered me my usual cut, can you believe that? Of course I told her what she could do with her money. Then I said goodbye to her.

When I got back home my mum was overjoyed to see me. It was like being smothered in kisses! Horrible. Of my dad, there was no sign. Mum didn't know where he was, and she didn't care, that's what she said. I wouldn't have told on him, I really wouldn't have, except that Dutch finally stuck his big foot in it by telling some stupid journalist about me..That caused a right stink, with questions in the papers and people going on about me as though I was the end of civilization or something. That's why I've decided to tell this true Confession of my time as a Junior Pimp.

Anyway, it's all finished now. I'm living at home again, with Mum and Tango. Mum and Dad are getting divorced. I'm back at school as well, doing my best to catch up with the lessons I missed. I want to be an artist. The authorities are still trying to decide if I've done anything wrong. What do you think - have I? I don't know, sometimes it seems like it never happened, that I never was a Junior Pimp. But then I remember what I've seen, and what I've done. Seen more and done more than any other boy in the school, even those that have actually had sex, or so they claim. They all look up to me now because I'm famous, especially the girls. Some psychiatrist expert type woman has said that it's going to affect me for the rest of my life, and I certainly hope so.