Indulgent preface.
Trigger warning. References to suicide. No description.
I’m just not sure you all understand the Australian country girl. She’s a bit like that Garth Brooks song ‘She’s Every Woman’. Leather, lace, fire, ice, and the softest thing on the planet when she lets you inside her guard. I’m also sure there are girls like that all over the world. But I really like our outback version; the dusty Valkyries.
Please read Janey with a slow country drawl. And Bobby? Make your own mind up about him. In my mind he was a little bit every man searching for meaning and a place in the world. Might also have been a little bit me in there too.
© Copyright claimed. Don’t be a cunt. All my stories are free.
~* *~
Sing to me of redemption,
Paint me a sky full of love.
Fill a heart with boiling gold and
Smear it with a crimson flood.
“I just sat there, Dad.”
“Bullshit, boy.” He looks sideways at me sternly.
“True. I could hear one man’s balls slapping against her as he fucked her like a dog and her choking on another’s dick.”
“The fuck is wrong with you? Why would you just sit there?”
My beer doesn’t know the answer when I sip it. My beard can’t help either when I scratch it. “I just… didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of thinking she’d gotten to me, I guess.”
“Shoulda punched a cunt. I would have. If I ever saw your Mum… Jesus wept, that’s just disgusting. I can’t even imagine…”
“She was nothing like Mum, old man.”
“You sure can pick em.” He baits his line and casts it back under the mangroves across from us. “Why the fuck would she even do that? Didn’t she… like self-respect? She seemed like a nice kid. Not like those other girls. I thought you’d finally settled down.”
“She was drunk.”
“No excuse. A person won’t do something drunk they won’t do sober, in my experience.”
I nodded. “Nope. She just finally let me see her as she was.”
“And you expect me to believe you were surprised? You’re not a stupid man, Bobby.”
“I blame myself. She was like all the others. Really sexual. It’s like I have a thing for oversexed emotionally broken women.”
“The two can go together. It’s easy to stick your dick in crazy once son, but you make a habit of it.” He laughs gently. We don’t mince words and we don’t pull punches, Dad and me. He’s the same with all my brothers. Poor old Mum had six of us before she gave up on having a daughter.
“She told me the next morning that she was sorry. She didn’t think I was in the cabin. She looked quite ashamed.”
“Can’t have been that drunk then.”
“Nah, I think she was just pissed off she got sloppy and caught. I’d had suspicions she was er… getting about a bit, but…”
“Hoy! I’m on!” I watch as he pulls in a nice little bream.
He looks at me funny as he washes his hands and wipes them on his trousers, “So what’s it like then? Watching your fiancée getting spit roasted?”
“Weird.” I laugh a little. “Like watching porn a bit. After I got over the immediate shock and fury, it was a bit hot really.”
“You liked it?” He frowns sideways at me.
“Well… No. I didn’t like that it was my fiancée, but she’s a hot chick and was taking it like a champ. It was weird.”
“Like having an angry boner?” He chuckles and baits his hook. “Maddy Jackson back in high school. I had such a huge crush on her but prom night she got with David Peters. She was fucking him in the back seat of his car and we could all see through the windows. Fucking hot. Had tits like this. I’d always wanted to see them one day. But…”
“Well, she did me a favour I reckon. I need loyalty, Dad. I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“Ha. That’s rich.”
“What?”
“You’ve been doing the same damn thing your whole life. Don’t tell me you expect new things to happen?”
“Get fucked. What do you mean?”
“Remember your ‘fucket’ list?”
“Oh Jesus… Poor Mum.”
“Don’t be so worried for your mother, lad. That list gave her a few good ideas, you know.”
“Gross Dad.” I pretended to sick in my mouth a bit and got a chuckle out of him. Friends and I in high school had decided childishly to assemble a sexual bucket list of sorts inspired by the porn we consumed and shared like popcorn. Stuff like, ‘throat fuck’, ‘bgb’, ‘insertion’. Just weird porn stuff we wanted to try.
“Just… It’s always been about fucking for you boys. I’m glad you’re not fighters but, if you guys came with a rating it would be, ‘triple x – predominantly concerned with sex’. Your brothers are the same. It’s like you’re all trying to high score over each other with who got the most, the best, the wildest sex. Then sooner or later you want something more and don’t know how to get it. Look at Pete.”
“Yeah, bit rough. Poor cunt deserved a bit better after ten years.”
“Did he though?”
“Fuck off, what does that mean?”
“Well. He finally found his ‘big titted blondy who fucked like a rabbit’ that he’d been searching for his whole life and then expected her to be a good life partner and mother to boot. It does happen. Your Mum was my dream woman and god knows she went alright, but you’re all coming at it wrong. You go straight for sex and expect loyalty and commitment and love and all the fairy-tale to just magic itself up. It doesn’t work like that. You have to find the romance and if you get all the rest of it right then the sex is icing on the cake. Not the whole fucking cake like you boys think.”
“Hmmmpphh.” Mostly I’m still pissed off. I’d saved six months for that damn cruise so I could propose, just for her inner slut to ruin my imagination of her. “Shut up and fish, old man.”
His laughter blesses my outburst.
“You’ll work it out buddy. You’ve always been the thoughtful one. My big old softy.”
“Fuck you!” I laugh. “Seriously, you’re on again? That’s like five to my none.”
“Someone once told me, ‘shut up and fish’. Maybe should take his own advice hey?”
~* *~
I was nervous returning to work after the weekend back home with Dad. The city is so damn big and busy after the quiet of his place up in Noosa. It didn’t help that everyone in the office probably knew by now that Abigail and I had split. I have completely ignored my socials since I flew home, but knowing her, she’s painted the digital world a nasty colour of me.
Maybe.
Maybe if she’s finished fucking her way around the Pacific Ocean long enough to use her fingers for posting stuff. I took a water taxi to one of the islands after speaking with crew and flew home from there. It just seemed self-flagellating to share a room with her and finish the cruise.
“Sorry to hear about you and Abby.” Terry, the supervisor patted my back and shared how sad he thought it was but that it was good we were still going to be friends like Abby said on facebook.
“Oh, you poor darling. Here’s my number. You call if you want to talk or anything.” Amelia kissed my cheek, “I mean, anything.”
“Cool, so you’re up for clubbing Friday?” Nelly asked.
“Um…”
“Come on, we’re a top team. We always pull when we’re out together. I hook you up, you hook me up. It’ll be like old times.”
“Nah… I’m just not feeling it yet, love.”
“All good, player. I get it. Let me know when you’re back in the game.”
By Friday afternoon, I’d decided that if my girlfriend of two years and fiancée of two days could double team some rich older dudes in our own cruise ship cabin, then maybe I could grant myself a little consolatory coitus.
“A pity hook up?” Nelly laughs. “So like, you feel sad for little Bobby inside you and big Bobby is going to go out and get him laid?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Works for me. Meet you at The Callie for a meal and pre-drinks. Maybe seven’ish hey?”
“Sure.”
We hang up after she’s grilled me for the gruesome details of ‘Abby’s cabin stabbin’ as she called it jokingly and I let out a deep sigh of something like relief and gratitude for my old friend, Nelly. I met Nelly in university and we… Well, we hooked up a few times before recognising how horribly similar we were in the shallowness department. It was kind of the backwards version of what Dad had suggested.
Nelly and I started off as casual lovers and discovered a great friendship.
“Now Robert Ruben Holmes, why can’t you just find a friend who one day makes a great lover?” I chastise myself as I fuss over a microwave dinner.
Friday night came and went in a blurry half remembered haze of alcohol and doofy music, loud voices and an empty wallet. So many smiling faces dance behind my eyelids as I drift into Saturday afternoon and my aching brain throbs with flashback moments. A scent of woman arouses me and in my dozy dream state I rub at myself until I’m hard and wonder at the wetness still lingering on my member.
“Oh god, did we fuck again, Bobby?” My half sozzled hungover head registers Nelly’s voice.
I don’t think we did. I remember getting home and helping her up the stairs and into the apartment. After that it gets blurry but, “No… I fucked someone but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you. You were spewing last I remember.”
“Damn… I fucked somebody. My bum hurts and my puss-puss feels like a traffic accident.”
“Not me, Nelly. You were asleep on the lounge when I came to bed. You want coffee?”
“Like an infusion, babe. God. I’m such a slut.” She yawns disinterestedly as she says it like it’s nothing at all. “Hey… That blonde chick with the impossible tits… She fucked you at the taxi stand while we waited. I’m surprised the cops didn’t come.”
“Oh yeah!” I laugh as it all comes tumbling back. “She had a fans thing or something. And god… flexible or what?”
“Haha and her friends all recording. You’re a porn star.”
“Fuck my life. At a taxi stand… And you think you’re a slut? I felt like a human dildo by the end. Still, those tits, eh?”
“Hurry up with the coffee. A couple of Codral too please. My brain is set to splodey mode.”
“So, who did ‘you’ fuck?” I ask as I present a still totally naked Nelly with a cup of povvo-dirt-water-instant-regret.
“I was hoping it was you, but I think it was the uber dude.”
“Oh…” Gross, he was solidly wedged into the driver’s side of the Prius. I don’t think he could have got out to do the deed in any case.
“No Nelly, I remember getting home. It must have been at the bar.”
“Oh god no. Shit… That dude that was buying our drinks. I remember now. Thanks a fucking lot. I can cross ‘old Asian man with a bad singing voice’ off my fucket list.”
“Yeah, haha. Fuck! I remember now.” I giggle remembering her drag the surprised gent away from the microphone where he’d been delicately rendering Pink’s “Cover me in sunshine.”
“Do you still have those Diazapam?”
“Yeah.”
“So, I’m going to cook omelettes. Then you’re going to shower that skank off you and go back to bed. I’m going to try and scrub every regret I’ve ever had off me and join you and we’ll wake up tomorrow and play old school Nintendo games until it’s time to go back to work, Ok?”
“Like a charm, Nelly.”
“God, I wish I loved you, Bobby. We’d make a brilliant couple.” She yawns and stares into the open fridge. “Instead of loser fuck toys.”
“I know, Nelly. Me too. I just… I think that bits broken.”
“Mine too… So, omelettes, Valium-snuggles and Nintendo? Sound like a plan, besty?”
“The best.”
She kisses me quickly on the lips like we always do and the pong of her almost overpowers the smell of me. That shower sounds like a grand idea.
~* *~
My brother Andrew is my favourite. He’s about ten or eleven years older than me. His wife Angela is a gorgeous little round goofball with the loveliest smile and pores that weep kindness and love. One day, I think I’d like a wife that loves like Angela does. Their kids, Adam and Annie are just like you put Andrew and Angela in a blender and tipped out some little ‘A’ people.
Once a quarter at least, I take my old ute up to their place in the northern suburbs and Andrew does a service for me while I soak up their version of happy family. The kids clamber on me and tell me in excited voices about their little lives and big imaginations. Angie cooks a huge meal and fusses over me like I’m another kid come home from school or something.
“Seeing anyone, Bobby?” She asks putting a plate of lasagne and salad down in front of me. “It’s been a little while now.”
“No… Kinda jaded a little, I think.”
“Bullshit, bro. Tell me you haven’t hooked up since.” Andy laughs.
“Ok.” I make surrendering hands. “But… not dipping my feet back in that whole commitment mess.”
“Why honey? Still hurting?” Angie pats my arm.
“No… Not that really. I think… I don’t know, I’m still getting my head straight. I was fishing with Dad a couple of months ago and he made a bit of sense.”
“I hate when he does that.” Andrew agrees.
“I just think I get what I deserve because… well, I’m looking for the wrong thing and I’m the wrong thing too.”
“Oh shit.” Andy passes me a beer. “Dad got right in there, the old bugger. Just relax. Be happy. Sooner or later some angel will come along and fuck that up for you.”
“Arsehole!” Angie thumps him. “He’s got a bit of a point though, Bobby. Do ‘you’ for a little while, honey. Work on you. Get happy. Nothing as attractive to a woman as a happy man.”
“God. I work ten-hour days, five days a week and every other weekend. I wouldn’t go out with me.”
“So, make changes man. What are you slaving away for anyway? You good for bucks?” Andrew points his fork at me. “I thought you had a house deposit all put together last time we talked money matters.”
“Yeah. Nah, that’s all good. Kinda dodged a bullet I reckon. Abby could have taken me a bit but she just… We weren’t living together thank god and…”
“Bobby hun, take a holiday. Do some you time. Work out what you want and work out who you want to be. You look stressed as f- er… very stressed. We’ll talk more when the kids are off to bed.”
“You’ve always been such a stress-bunny, little mate.” Andy scruffs my neck.
It feels a bit like torture before I get into it, but every time I visit, the kids beg bedtime stories and Angie and Andy laugh like they’ve been given a royal reprieve. I finish reading and kiss them each goodnight and they shame me a little with their innocent love for me. The world gets to be such a grotty fucked up kind of shit show when you grow up. Especially in this giant city. It’s so damn anonymous and busy and feels like a coral reef full of little polyp high-rises and passing moray eels.
“I’m a clown fish.” I announce and laugh at Angie and Andy jumping apart like they shouldn’t be kissing like teenage lovers on their own back deck.
“You’re a fucking clown, alright.” My brother laughs and blushes.
“Sorry honey. I got a bit carried away with the big fella. We’ve been thinking about another niece or nephew for you.”
“Eww… Angie, really…” I giggle at her teasing eyes. Then I fetch beers for us from their deck fridge and watch the sun set over the range. “I just need to make some changes. I’m not happy with who I am. I’m never gonna find something like what you two have if I’m this weird little fish zinging about this giant coral reef picking up bottom feeders and boggle eyed eels. I need to be better. I think I have to become the sort of man that the sort of woman I imagine deserves.”
“Cheese and rice, blokey. You have some fucking deep old thoughts while you read little golden books to tired kids.”
“I think you’re on to something, honey.” Angie smiles. “But I think you have it backwards. You’re already something awesome, you just have to see it in yourself and demand better.”
I laugh at her beautiful heart and embarrass her by leaning over the table and kissing her on the cheek.
“Thanks for tonight guys. You really are my island of sanity and nice, in this dirty old world. Love ya guts out.”
“Back at ya, bro.” Andy bops my shoulder.
A couple of beers later, I excuse myself before I’ve had too much to drive home.
“Get at that baby making you lovely people. I’ll have another niece this time, please.”
“You’ll get what you’re given and love it either way.” Angie hugs me.
“You’re a good bloke, little mate.” Andrew hugs me. “Life’s a conspiracy to make us better people. Take your time with it and don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“And wear a condom.” Angie giggles.
“What like all the time?” I ask.
“Well, maybe just put one on before you go out, you he-slut.” Andy joins her in chortles, “Go on, fuck off now. See you in a couple of months when that beat up piece of shit needs looking at again.”
“Thanks guys.”
My phone beeps with a message as I let myself out the side gate, but it can wait until I’m home. I don’t want to let the world in just yet.
From my balcony in the unit, I can see down below where cars scurry about the city like ants in a giant colony. All of them holding people who are busy in their own minds with the logistics of their lives. It’s humbling and frightening at the same time, but the breeze out here is fresh and the night air cool on my skin.
“I’m sorry. I just hurt. Love you.” I read Nelly’s message one more time and wonder what the fuck she’s on about. She goes on these melancholy meanderings every now and then. One moment, she’s million miles an hour two tonnes of fun stuffed in a tiny woman and next moment, she’s Leonard Cohen, Johnny Cash and red wine. Some dark things peck at her I guess, and she sends weird messages. I tried calling but she’s probably asleep now, so I try to think of what to send back.
“Back at ya, besty.” Is about all I can come up with.
She told me once when I really pressed her about her moods that there was stuff from her childhood that bothered her. I couldn’t get her to open up any more than that. It was part of why we didn’t work as lovers. She really didn’t want anyone to get that close to her, I think.
“This thing we have.” She kissed my cheek. I can almost feel it now, as I remember. “This is all I can do, Bobby. Friends has to be enough. I don’t want to hurt you and if we… Well, I will hurt you.”
And being her friend was good. She understood me in some sort of way that other people don’t.
My work week was frantic and by Friday afternoon I craved a blow-out of epic proportions. I wanted to crawl into a bottle in a loud room full of pretty people and noise and forget the world of adulthood for a while. I hadn’t heard from Nelly but that was normal too. Maybe she’d be up for a night in the Valley.
Her phone rung out the first time as I drove home. When I rang the second time, it picked up quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s me, Nelly.” I laugh at her confusion.
“This is Therese, Nelly’s sister. You are?”
“Oh… Bobby.” Weird. I didn’t know her family were visiting. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t messaged this week.
“Oh… Bobby… Nelly spoke about you. Listen… Nelly’s gone mate.”
“Gone? Where?”
“She took her…” Her sister just started sobbing and I pulled over into the emergency lane.
“Nelly’s gone?”
“Sunday last, mate. Listen, I’ll get Mum. I’m just a mess right now. Sorry.”
“Bobby?” I’d met her mum and knew her voice.
“Mrs Jackson.”
“Barbara please. Buddy, do you think you could come around? There’s a lot to- not over the phone. And… she left some things for you.”
A giant rock starts forming in my chest. I’m starting to believe she’s dead, not missing or left home.
“Nelly?”
“Pills, Bobby. Last Sunday. A whole bottle of Valium.”
“Fuck.” I whisper as the tears start. “Fuck. She messaged me… I should have-”
“There was nothing anyone could do, Bobby. She didn’t give any of us a chance. Y ou did more than enough over the years. We’re just here for another few hours tidying up. Are you right to drive?”
“I will be. Just… What can… Is there anything?”
“No. I’d like a hug. That’s about all. You were always a good hugger, mate.”
That just set me off again. It took me about five minutes to get my breathing back under control and to start untangling the web of thoughts swirling around that giant rock inside me.
Nelly. Dead.
Pills. My god, probably my pills. I haven’t seen them since…
Slowly, the tears clear enough for me to turn the key in the ignition and point the car towards Nelly’s apartment in West End. I’d only ever visited her place once or twice. She usually stayed in town at my place if we went clubbing.
I’m met at the lift by her Mum who wrapped me in a tight hug and didn’t let me go until she’d finished crying.
“We wanted to ring but didn’t know your number.” She wiped her eyes.
“I just can’t believe…”
“She’s attempted before. She was doing really well though. I’ll just get this load down to the car. There’s a box of things in there… She was so damned organised. Must have planned… God damn brat, I could give her a bloody hiding. Sorry… Hmmph.”
Inside the little apartment is stark and echoes.
“You’re Bobby?”
“Hi. Therese?”
She nods and gestures at a box in the corner. “That one has your name on it. A phone number would have been helpful. Planned everything the little bitch. Right down to funeral cover and contacting police.”
I squat beside the box and open it to find her record collection, some t-shirts she’d stolen from me over time, cards I’d sent for birthdays and a few other knickknacks.
“The funeral…”
“Been and gone, Bobby. We didn’t know how to contact you. She wiped her phone and there was no-one else to call.”
The room was suddenly stuffy and I needed air.
“Bobby, no. Don’t go in-” Therese tried to warn me as I made for Nelly’s bedroom and the balcony it opened on to. “Painters haven’t been yet.”
Standing in her doorway my mouth frozen open in shock, and I look at the walls of her room that are covered in scrawled handwriting and spray painted words.
Fuck-toy. Twat puppet. Meat tunnel. Cunt. Cock socket. You’re nothing. Useless piece of flesh with a hole to hose out. No one wants you. Worn out slut. It went on and on forever. The one wall behind her bed was left unmarked. The one that was always behind her in our facetime chats. The others were a relentless story of self-loathing and painted over the top of it in red that dribbled like blood down the wall was, “Daddy’s little princess SLUT”.
Mrs Jackson appears beside me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Her father. That’s where the bi-polar came from. He was the loveliest man; he was the evillest too. He loved us dearly. He hurt us terribly. Did things to the girls I didn’t find out about until a couple of years ago. By that stage he was gone to us. She hated the medication, but it was helping so much. Her greatest fear was that she would turn out like him.”
“This isn’t who…” My words are shaky and whispered.
“No. It isn’t. But she didn’t give us a chance to show her, did she? Come on. Close the door on this. Don’t dignify it with attention.” She pulls the door behind us and as it shuts it feels like the end of things. “Did you get a letter? Therese and I got letters. Sweet little nothings that she should have told us in person. Stuff we knew.”
In the box marked, ‘Bobby’ is an envelope that I first thought to be a card that I’d given her, but it has my name on the back of it. Inside I find a handwritten note in her curly precise style.
Dear Bobby,
I wished every one of those men I ever fucked was you, but I didn’t deserve you. I’m sorry for doing this, this way. It feels cruel like having the last word and not letting you fix me up like you always do. Your friendship has been the glue that held me together when I felt like tearing me apart. I’m tired of hurting in my head. I’m tired of running amok and hating myself afterwards. So, I’m going to take a Diazepam like we do when we’re hungover and I’m going to fall asleep snuggling you one last time.
Love always,
Nell.
I’m crying quietly when I stand and crumple the note in my cranky fist. “Fucking bitch.”
Therese laughs at that, “A bit kinder than what I said after reading mine. But yes. Fucking bitch.”
“If you can help with these last few boxes, we’re going to be finished here. I hate it in here. Need to go home and scrub myself.” Mrs Jackson tells me. I nod and quietly go about the business of carrying boxes to the lift and loading them into her car.
I wonder as I do it, how many boxes I would leave behind if I died. It feels sad that this is all that’s left of Nelly and it fits in the back seat of her mother’s sedan.
“Well…” Mrs Jackson stops beside her car with her hands on her hips. “We probably won’t see you again, Bobby. Thanks for being a friend to my baby when she needed you.”
The box feels stupid in my arms as I carry it to my ute. I don’t want these things. I want Nelly to smile and bring the wild.
~* *~
“To the tenants.” Is addressed on the envelope which is stupid because the real estate knows my name. I’ve rented this unit for the last three years.
It turns out to be a lease renewal advice. If I wish to extend for another six months, I simply need to sign the included documents and return in the pre-paid envelope.
It’s come around quickly this time, or I’ve been busy, but the six months seems to have flown by. The last time I renewed my lease was just before Nelly committed suicide. I still check her facebook page now and then and remember the wild child friend. When she passed it felt like I stepped out into a grown-up world for the first time.
Work has been hectic as usual and that’s helped but I can’t shake the feeling that this city is empty to me. I have a few acquaintances but no-one I’d call a friend. Apart from family, I have no visitors and no-one to visit. This city is just a location.
“What if I didn’t?”
Mum’s not much of a talker. She’s not as blunt as Dad either. She’s soft and loving. She listens and lets you pour out everything before making some really astute suggestion or smiling as you gain some insight and work it out for yourself.
I hand her the flowers and remember every time she held me close like this, every skinned knee, bruised heart or moment of outrage. Then I sit and just soak up being near her. I pour us both a cup of tea. Just how she likes it.
White with one. Sweet and strong.
Then just like always she waits quietly for me to spill my soul like I was that little boy again.
“Remember Nell, mum.” I show her the picture on my phone. “It’s my favourite. We were sitting on the beach at the coast eating ice creams and I was laughing at the dribble on her chin.”
“She killed herself. I’m just not… Not getting over it like I should.” It’s hard to talk to Mum. She knows if you’re minimising, avoiding things, or just plain lying to yourself and she takes it personally. So, I gather thoughts before continuing.
“We were friends. We started out as more, you remember… but… She was broken Mum. Inside her. Bi-polar, her Mum said. I never knew. It explains things though. It… I mean I get why she was the way she was sometimes now. So much damn fun. Haha. It was like someone lit a fuse on a party bomb some nights.”
“But now I know that was part of it all. I’ve done some reading. You know… on the disorder to help maybe… Shit. I just can’t get the picture of her room out of my head sometimes. That was actually how she thought of herself. Her Mum said her father did things. I know… I know… She was broken a bit and it’s not my job to fix everyone, but I just wish I’d known more. I could have… No, you’re right. I can’t help people who don’t reach out. Fuck. Sorry.”
Mum’s smile though. It’s pure forgiveness and love. I sip at my tea and think.
“I should probably go see a shrink or something. It’s really messing with me. I’ve told you about Tinder and I know you don’t approve but it’s… Well, a few times since then I’ve met girls and every damn time, I see Nelly’s room and all those things and it just feels so cheap and grotty. I know… Sex is healthy and everything but… I guess, I want more. You remember Abigail? We broke up. It’s like I’ve been attracted to these broken angels all along.”
“The real reason I’m here though is that I’m thinking of moving away. I mean there’s only Andrew and you here now, and I can always come back and visit. Oh… because I… Well, it feels like time to. My lease is up. Mostly I want something different. I want to work on me. Yeah, that sounds chintzy. But it’s like I feel like I am supposed to be more. You know, be that person that someone fantastic deserves.”
“Well, it’s just not going to happen here in the city. I’ll keep doing the same things and getting the same results. I’ve built this pattern; this version of me that I’m not so in love with anymore and I have to. I want to like me again. Not this fuckboy. It’s like my whole world is about fucking and I feel a little bit like I helped scrawls on Nelly’s wall. I’ve let other women feel like she felt.”
“I want to go somewhere where I don’t even know me.”
“Yup. Make myself all over again. You got it.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
My heart that has felt like a barren place since Nelly left, feels that little glow in a corner that is the love in my mother’s eyes every time we finished one of these talks. I pull the weeds from around her headstone and put my flowers in the little holder thingy.
A crisp autumn breeze stirs around me, and I smile. There’s always some little sign of her after a good talk. This breeze feels like a change in the seasons. I can smell winter coming on it.
“Maybe you can keep an eye out for her, Mum. She could use a friend.”
I stopped at the real estate on the way home and gave them four weeks’ notice.
I stopped in at work and gave them two.
It must have been the right thing to do. A feeling like the weight had been lifted off me buoyed me all afternoon as I trawled job websites and tried to imagine a new life.
Andrew let me pack belongings into his shed. It reminded me of Barbara packing Nelly’s boxes into her car. I was packing up who I was and I was a bit sad to leave that ‘me’ behind. At least there was some furniture to store and more boxes than would fit in a back seat.
I kept one of Nelly’s records to take with me wherever I end up. She loved this album. Pornography, by the Cure. Her favourite song was A Strange Day.
I close my eyes
Move slowly through drowning waves
Going away on a strange day.
“Here blokey. Give me that. That’s it now, hey?” Andrew tucks the last box under the tarp. “Come on, beer o’clock. Angie’s got some snags out for the kids. You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“You look good, little mate.” He looks at me curiously. “You’re doing the right thing. All that serious is gone.”
“Go wash up a little, fellas.” Angie crinkles her nose when she kisses my cheek. “Smelly. You too, Andy. Shoo.”
“We’ll miss you, little mate. The ute should hold up so long as you take it easy.”
Annie has claimed my lap as usual and slurps sauce off her wrist. “Mummy says it’s a bucket of shit.”
“Annie!” Angela laughs.
“Sorry. A bucket of poo.” Annie smiles over her shoulder at me. “But she did say the ‘s’ word.”
“Well, she’s correct.” I hug the cheeky little cow. “But it’s my bucket of poo and I like it.”
“No jobs yet?” Angie asks.
“Nope. Gonna explore a bit. See what I can find. It’s coming into cotton harvest so there should be something going.”
“Well just be careful. I worry about you, buddy.”
I drove. I just kept driving until I felt like had left the city far enough behind.
I drove till I couldn’t see mountains.
Until the horizon stretched its arms wide open for me.
That first sunset was enough to make me pull over. I felt like I had never seen a sunset before. It stretched violent red, right through the sky and silhouetted the sparse trees black against the fire of the dipping sun.
Sitting on the bull-bar I watched until the light had faded to a dim glow before setting off again. My headlights made a tunnel of the road and I drove until I started yawning. I had been hoping to make it to a town but at least I knew where I was going now. I was heading to the heart of that glorious sunset.
~* *~
I drove the bole buggy. At six each morning, I fuelled all the tractors and helped the girls on the module builders check engine oil and make sure the hydraulics were all topped up. Then as soon as the moisture dropped enough for the pickers to start, I chased them down the rows and tried to keep them empty.
They’d tip into me and I’d run back down the rows, flat out in the tractors highway gears to feed the module builders and I did this all day until the moisture came up again and shut us down. The days were long and it was exactly what I needed.
There was no time to think of anything other than driving.
Every night, I rolled my swag out in the back of the ute and lay out looking at the millions of stars and sleep would claim me quickly. My body was aching, but my dreams were gentle things these days.
We only had two nights off that whole three months. It rained lightly two nights in a row and we made the most of it in town. It was strange talking with the other workers. We spoke constantly while working using the two-ways and sometimes we had a bit of a joke, but you don’t really know them until you sit down and share a meal and a couple of drinks.
For instance, I learned that Isa grows no body hair whatsoever. She whispered this to me late that first night in town as the bar was closing.
“Would you like to see?”
“Oh…” My face still hurt from laughing with the others all night, but I hadn’t actually considered hooking up with anyone.
“What’s the matter, Bobby? Don’t like Pilipina’s? Or maybe… don’t like girls?” Her smile says she’s teasing.
“No… That’s not it. You’re a pretty woman, Isa. Just… It’s a long story.” She reaches for my hand.
“Well come on. Come and tell me a long story. I’m not tired yet. It’s only ten. I can’t believe they shut at ten.”
I laughed. I wasn’t tired either and she was a pretty girl. Would it hurt to hang out a little while?
“So, we’re out of beer and it’s getting late.” She summarised the present situation. “And I’m kinda horny still, Bobby. Would you like to come to bed with me if I promise not to feel used and cheap?”
“I think I would, Isa.”
She didn’t have hair anywhere except for her head.
“Some boys think it’s a bit creepy. I mean, I’m kind of small and…”
Her room was a little larger than mine. There was room for her to twirl and let me drink her body down. It was like my first ever shot of whiskey. It was the first time I really actually looked at what a woman was offering me. She burned all the way down.
“You’re going to have be a little careful with that.” She smiled up at me and tasted the tip of me. “I’m little and he’s really excited I think.”
“It’s been a long time, Isa.”
“I get it. Now shh.” I slip deep inside her hot lips and her tongue swirls masterfully on me. Good lord, she’s gonna get it soon, alright.
Just moments later I hold her head still and buck gently as I empty the last few months and she drinks them down.
“Now lie back, Bobby. Let me show you exactly how consenting adults respectfully use each other to feel good.”
“You clown.” I laugh and comply, watching as she grins around the foil of condom and tears it open.
“Oh god yes.” She groans as she works the tip of me inside her vice like velvet grip. “Just wait… a little… yes…”
She sits down hard on my pelvis and I marvel at the tiny woman smiling at me like she’s just won a prize.
“All day long I wonder what it would be like for the bole buggy guy to fuck me. You know all the girls want you, Bobby.”
“Right.”
“Really. We talk about you. Oh god…” She’s started moving me inside her. Her hips roll gently and I’m so glad I already came because the ridges of her insanely tight walls massage me with every slight tilt and grind of her.
“See, this isn’t hurtful. This is glorious. See. No expectations. Just, oh fuck yes.”
Her legs snap against my hips and her contractions eject me forcefully.
“Happy… Oh… Just happy… people… playing with… no clothes… Fuck, it won’t stop. Put it back.”
She searches between us for my cock and slides it slippery back inside her.
“Now fuck me, Bobby.”
Three condoms later, she curls into my shoulder and kisses my cheek.
“Stay? It’s nice to cuddle with a man. I miss my husband.”
“Husband?” Fucking hell… She doesn’t wear a ring.
“He is a lovely man. Cuddles very good. Just is always a long way away.”
“Shit.” I shake my head. The first sex I’ve actually enjoyed in six months and I’m an adulterer.
“Oh… No, Bobby. Not… Don’t feel bad now, baby. We’re just two adults sharing bodies. No one is hurt. Please stay.”
“I-” I have to think.
“Maybe I should have told you earlier, but he doesn’t mind. We are hardly ever together. This is okay, Bobby.”
In any case, I’m freshly shagged, a little sozzled and very tired.
We woke to a rainy day and knew work was off again. I told myself that the crime was already committed so we spent the rest of that day in her room. We spoke between vigorous bouts, and I let her convince me that her relationship allowed my enjoyment of her body.
She shared the back of my ute after that.
We followed the cotton down over the border that season until we’d cut out all the contracts. I hadn’t touched the house deposit money except for fuel and had a cheque in my hand for thirteen thousand dollars and some.
Isa cried when she left. It was the first time that I thought that it’s impossible to share your body with someone and not get attached in some small way. Not if you’re doing it properly. It was different to those random hook ups and pub pickups. Healthy… But a guaranteed fail just the same. Maybe I think too much. Maybe it was just what I needed.
But there I was.
In a town called St George parked on the bank of a river. Waiting for my cheque to cash before I moved towns again. The Australian Hotel seemed like a great place to wait after months of travelling and working. I sat at the bar and drank beer and laughed with some man beside me who seemed to believe entertaining the bar was his mission.
A pretty back packer girl called Megan brought us drinks and laughed along. Her lilting Irish accent was as welcome as the cold beer and the golden spring light that spilled in the windows. Was this what happiness feels like?
Is this relaxed, nowhere to be, nothing pressing to do, this friendly banter; is this what happiness feels like?
“Where to next then, Bobby?” Megan asked. “Spring is usually good for tomato work. Try Childers.”
“No. Not going back that side of the range. People this side are so much easier. Just straight. You know? No bullshit. I might find something local. No real hurry. I have enough to live on for a few months.”
“Can you drive machinery?” A gruff voice asks behind me. I turn to find a large unruly looking sort of bloke eating his pizza and evaluating me.
“I drove the bole buggy all season. I don’t know about other stuff, but I pick things up quick.” I shrugged.
“Good. You’re not one of those bullshitters who big notes his hole and fucks my gear up. I’ve got some dirt needs shifting. Megan love, can you put my number on a coaster or something for him? What’s your name?”
“Robert Holmes.” We shake hands.
“Well Robert, you’ll probably want to shake the cotton dust off for a week or so but when you’re ready give me a ring and I’ll hook you up with some earthmoving work. Can always use an operator. Thanks Megan. Tell Sally the pizza was great.”
~* *~
The black dirt gets right in your skin. Every lunch tastes a little bit of diesel or hydraulic fluid. The hours drag with the same weight of the scraper bucket behind me. I prefer the excavator, but we’re finished cleaning the channels out with the mud buckets and this new ring tank needs building. I haven’t spoken with Glen since I rang him that same afternoon.
Mostly I was afraid of doing nothing.
While I’d been working there was no time for thinking, just doing. I worried that if I did nothing for too long, I’d start thinking again and thinking leads to remembering and remembering leads to hurting and more thinking. She was only a memory these days, but she would always be part of me.
They pay me almost fourteen hundred a week to drive big Tonka toys from dusk till dawn one month then dawn till dusk the next. I get a little self-contained unit they call a ‘donger’ and electricity for free. All my meals are provided and they even let me fill the ute with petrol on Saturday mornings for the weekend off in town.
I’ve made a few acquaintances over time.
Megan has introduced me to other people my own age. Mostly blokes. The male to female ratio in town is a bit funny because of all the industry jobs available. But to be honest I really haven’t thought much about fucking since Isa left. I certainly don’t want to go back to that meat market pick up life. There’s been a few drunken offers, but I’ve mostly kissed them away with a ‘raincheck’ apology.
I’ve been to visit Andrew and Angie. Also, Dad. It’s about a seven-hour trip so it’s an occasional luxury. The kids cried last time I showed up and again when I left.
“It just feels like my home now, Anna.” I told the little blondie.
There’s not so much social stuff with the earthwork as there was with the cotton. Every evening when we’d shut down on the cotton, we’d share a meal that the boss’s wife had brought out to us. The earthwork is a bit lonely in comparison, we eat together but I still carry that ‘happy’ back to my donger alone and dream gently of an evening.
One thing that does concern me was a conversation I had with Richard, one of the other operators at the pub one afternoon.
“Do you even look at the clips I send you?”
“Ah… why?” He sends a half dozen porn clips to all of the other operators and I every evening.
“Well, you never comment on them or anything. The other blokes do. Are you queer ya cunt?”
“Not queer. Just don’t watch a lot of porn anymore. Kind of grew out of it I guess.”
“What’s wrong with porn? You still pull your pud don’t ya?”
“Sometimes.” I shrug.
Megan shakes her head at the conversation and makes herself busy up the other end of the bar.
“Well, what do you think about when you choke one out if you’re not looking at porn?”
And that was the problem. Sometimes I remember Isa . Sometimes I remember Nelly’s bedroom walls. All those chicks in those videos he sends… They make me wonder if they’re feeling like Nelly. Used. Like any of those words she scrawled on the wall.
My old ute needs an oil change and the filter blown out, so this weekend I’m staying at the farm and getting that and some tax stuff done.
There are choice words that accompany any twirling of spanners and despite Andrew’s guidance over the years, I’ve not assimilated his affinity for engines.
“Motherfucker!” The oily spanner slipped off the sump plug as I was trying to tighten it back up after dumping the old oil. My knuckles feel like I’ve been smacked with a shovel. Wrapping the rag around my hand I roll back out from under the ute to find an androgynous looking young person smirking down at me with their cap on backwards.
It’s either the prettiest boy I’ve ever met or a country girl who doesn’t give a fuck about haircuts and makeup. I can’t help but stare.
“I’m Jane.”
“Robert Holmes. Sorry for the language.”
She shrugs, smirks like she’s just found something she’d misplaced and looks at my hand where the blood is already seeping through the rag.
“Show me. I’m third year nursing.” Jane demands and reaches for my hand. I watch as she dabs at me with the dirty rag and exposes a half inch long gaping cut in my knuckle skin. “Ok then. Sit.”
She points at the steps to my donger and goes back to a quad bike I hadn’t heard pull up. Returning with a first aid kit, she makes quick work of cleaning my hand.
“Gonna need stitches, Robert. You trust me or do you want to run into town.”
Her eyes are death traps. I hadn’t noticed before but the teasing brown orbs twinkle like an enticement to certain demise. I’m sure men have fallen into them and been thoroughly consumed before.
Shrugging seems like an answer. My voice is untrustworthy right in this moment.
“Fuck!” It still works though. “Don’t you get a needle first? Ow! Where did you- Ow! Get sutures? Fuck.”
“Haha. Pig dogs, Robert. They bang themselves up now and then. Hang on, I’ll wrap that up for you.” She deftly dresses and wraps my injury then stands and pats me on the shoulder. “You alright now tough guy?”
I nod.
“So, Mum said to come and ask if you’d like to join us for dinner.”
“Mum is?”
“Mary. Mary Bowen. Dad is Glenn. Your boss.”
“Oh.”
“Well, yeah… Boss’s daughter.” She smirks cheeky dimples at me and raises an eyebrow. “So, officially you can’t say no to me. Are you done with the rust bucket?”
“I should put oil in. Just finished dropping- what are?”
“Shut up. Sit. Got a funnel? Oh right.” I watch as Jane climbs up the bull bar and sits in the engine bay to fill my oil. “How much?”
“All of that one and a half litre out of the little bottle.”
“All done. You should wash up a bit. Mum’s fussy.”
“What time?”
It’s her turn to shrug. “Whenever you like. Dad’s cooking barbeque. I think he just wants some company while he has a few beers. Are any of the other boys around?”
“Maybe Charley.”
“Okay. See ya Robert.”
“It’s Bobby.”
She stops and looks me up and down seriously. “No… I think you’re a Robert. Bobby sounds like a baby name.”
Then she’s gone in a little cloud of dust and my hand starts throbbing like it had forgotten it was hurting while she was talking to me.
She ignored me the rest of the evening. I drank beer with her father and even Mary laughed through a few conversations with me. But Jane just frowned whenever I caught her looking my way. Charley got more than a few words out of her. I overheard her telling him about university and some bloke called Gerry that she’d broken up with.
“…church in the morning.” I caught the end of something from Mary.
“Sorry.”
“We’re heading into church in the morning, would you like to come with us dear?”
“Oh… I’m not much of-”
“If I have to go, you have to go. Boss’s daughter, remember?” Jane smiled at me.
“What do I even wear?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just make sure it’s clean, Bobby.” Glen told me. “I’ll make it up to you. Lunch at the pub after, mate.”
I nod and everyone seems to be getting up to leave so I do the same.
“This way, Robert.” Jane tells me. “I want to check those stitches.”
Jane says nothing in the kitchen as she unwraps my hand and checks her earlier handiwork. She puts a little stingy stuff on them then wraps me back up again.
“You have good hands, Robert. Are they gentle ones? They certainly look like hard working ones.” Her look is pointed.
“I guess so.” There is a gravity I don’t understand.
“See you at church.” She smiles and nods at the open door.
I hadn’t been to a church since Andrew was married eight years ago and I was only eighteen then. It was pretty much how I remembered. Afterwards was different though. They all stood around outside and I realised why church was so important to Glen.
This was where business was done. These cotton moguls made million dollar promises and contracts over cups of tea and biscuits. And the women made all sorts of contracts as well. I’m sure I explained I was single to about four of the older ladies and by the end of things Mary took pity on me and sent me to the pub to make sure our table was ready.
“It’s busy today, Megan.” I take my beer and look about.
“All the kids are home for the holidays. You wore a clean shirt? Are you trying to impress me, Bobby?”
“Got to keep in sweet with the prettiest girl in town.”
“Especially if she’s pouring your drinks ere la, old mate.” Megan laughs. “Might just roofie you one of these nights. Take you upstairs to my dungeon and take advantage of you.”
“Promises promises, love.”
Everyone is wearing their Sunday best. It feels a bit like I’ve woken up a hundred years ago. Family’s bustle in the lounge. Young people laugh and carry on in the bar. Some of the older locals dot the bar as well, and I wonder how I coped at all in the city. This felt so damned busy, and it was probably only fifty or so people.
“Jane!” Some young bloke from across the bar shouts and hustles himself toward the door where he wraps her in a big hug. And she disappears into a huddle of people her age.
Mary and Glen push past and make their way over to the reserved table. I follow them and Mary thanks me.
“You’re a good kid, Bobby. Why do you keep to yourself so much? I had a dozen old floozies ask why you were single.”
“Just working, Mary. No time for nonsense.”
“Bullshit boy.” Glen laughs. “I’ve seen men look like you look before. You’re hiding from something. Working yourself to the bone so you can forget it. But that’s your business. Mary… It’s his damn business, love.”
“A friend killed herself.” There it is. And it doesn’t even hurt so much to say out loud.
“Jesus lad.” Glen laughs. “Well, there you go chooky. You know his secret now.”
“Not really a secret.” I laugh, “But not something you really talk about. I needed to get out of the city and start over.”
“We’ve all been there.” Mary smiles and Glen nods.
That got to be a regular thing after that. Jane would check my hand each day. Some days she’d ride down to where we were working, others she’d come to the donger when I was finished. She’d dress it and it was all done very professionally. Then we’d sit on the tailgate of the old F truck and talk shit for a while and flip off the workers that pulled piss out of us.
Charlie in particular was a bit of a dirty old bugger.
“Oh hurry up and fuck already you two.” He’d tease.
“Fuck off Charlie.” One or the other or both of us would laugh and tell him.
Glen and Janey would pick me up of an evening sometimes to take me pig hunting or shooting roos. The first time I saw Jane grab a pig by the back legs and flip it while snarling hell hounds tore at its ears, I learned a new respect for the gentle girl who tended my hand and nursed me. When she stuck its neck with a big old knife and held it while it bled out, I told myself not to fuck with her.
Glen and Mary would stop outside on Sunday mornings and pick me up for church. The old ladies stopped asking questions. More than a few young ones started flirting.
They had this thing they did at church where they confessed things. Someone would take a turn to tell a little bit of a life story and often it didn’t paint them in a very good light. They called it ‘witnessing’ and spoke about their journey with Jesus. How he saved them. It seemed a little trite. I like to take that journey of growth quietly and keep my trials to myself.
“So, your friend.” Jane started one night toward the end of December while we were having a tailgater.
“Nelly.”
“Was she pretty?” The stitches had long since come out, but she kept up her daily visits.
“Yeah. Here.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled to her page. Then I passed it to Jane and watched her look through. She was in the custom of lately bringing a six pack of beer down to the dongers after we all finished work. I was on the early swing until mid-January now, so had evenings to myself.
“Do you know why she killed herself?”
“She had a mental illness that led her to become pretty promiscuous and she couldn’t deal with the regret and shame. That’s the short version.”
“Was she bi-polar? That’s a pretty common story.”
“Yup.”
“And how come you’re out here in the bush hiding your head in the sand?”
“I wasn’t much better.”
That shut her up for a little while. We just sat on the tail gate of the old ute and watched the sun dip low and finished our beers.
“You know, Robert… most of Dad’s workers are a bit creepy. They’ve all hit on me at one point or another.”
“You’re a good-looking girl, Janey.” And she was in her tomboyish manner. Those eyes that drank me in and her coquettish boy cut hair. She had a generous work-fit curve to her figure and while not my usual bimbo style, she was a beautiful woman.
“You don’t creep on me. You don’t chase skirt all the time in town too. I’ve seen you knock sheila’s back when we have Sunday lunch.”
“I’m creepin on ya plenty, Jane. How come you don’t bring me no god damn beers eh, princess?”
“Fuck off Charlie.” She laughs and tells him.
“Well fucken quiet down, eh? Or go inside and make grandbabies for your lovely Mum, kiddo. Watchin the fucking footy over here, eh.”
“Charlie?” I shake my head.
“Yeah, fuck off… I know.” He laughs from the donger next to mine and it reminds us we need to keep our voices down a bit. I think seriously for a moment about her question before quietly blurting.
“I don’t much want to be like that guy I was anymore. I want to be the sort of guy, that the sort of girl, that I imagine spending life with, deserves.”
“What’s she like? This girl you want to deserve?”
“Loyal. Playful. Kind. You know how every town has that sweetheart? That one girl that everyone knows and loves.”
“Is she pretty?”
“She is but it doesn’t matter to her.”
In the moment I wondered how it was so easy to describe this fantasy woman until I realised, I was just describing Janey.
“How do you know she deserves you?” She asked kind of sadly before kissing me quickly on the cheek and riding off in a cloud of dust. There’s a stupid smile on my face as I watch her ride off. She’s so very much not my type.
“Bobby?”
“Charlie?”
“There’s a bush-pea out here in the scrub. Bright red little cunt. My Nan showed me how you can crush it up and just a little bit in someone’s tucker or a drink… You can even blow it in their face. Dead in minutes. That’s boss man’s baby. And we all loved her growing up. You hear me, cunt?”
“Rogie.” It’s how you say ‘understood’ on the two-ways. “Charlie?”
“Yeah, I know. Fuck off.” He laughs and cracks another beer.
~* *~
There was an awkward silence followed me down between the old silky oak pews. Mary had smiled and Glen just frowned and winked. Jane’s mouth opened and her disbelief followed each of my steps. But I owed her the truth about who I was, and I want to be honest with myself. If these people accept me, it will be because they know all of me.
I took a deep breath in and blew my doubts out.
“I don’t know much about this Jesus fella. But I know that someone led me here to all of you. I think the God that’s real to me, is the one that lives in people and comes out as kindness and help. A while ago, my best friend in the world took her own life due to mental illness.”
Then I described Nelly’s walls to the congregation. Their hushed silence rang through my heart as I continued.
“And the worst thing is, I was one of those men. I was one of those guys that scrawled all those horrible things across girls’ hearts. I used women like toys with no care for their feelings. Looking back, it was like an addiction. Like hunting. Women were trophies to me and when Nelly died, I finally saw myself. I was a predator.”
“It was easy for me. I’m tall and not horrible to look at. And I learned to say the things that girls liked to hear. I danced ok and made good money.”
“My relationships were built on sex and I never understood why they all failed. My father is a smart man. A blunt man. He asked me once why I kept doing the same thing expecting different results. That’s what urged me to make changes. That and Nelly. I know suicide is supposed to be a sin, but I really hope Nelly is some place happier now where she feels good about herself. I know I am.”
Silence followed my footsteps back to the pew in the little church. Mary stands and hugs me. Glen shakes my hand. Jane is unreadable as she frowns and moves to let me sit. I’m embarrassed now and have no idea what prompted me to stand when the pastor asked if anyone wanted to witness.
An older lady in front of us turned to hug me. “Boy you would have loved the sixties. Thank you for sharing.”
Pastor Margaret spoke for a few minutes on bible verses about our bodies and how we used them to honour god and how we sinned mostly against ourselves when we misused them. After church a lot of men shook my hand and a lot of ladies hugged me. Perhaps this is the forgiveness that the bible talks about.
I spoke my truth and these people just let it slide right by without judgement. Maybe that god that lives inside them all, stretched out his healing through them. I don’t know, but it was like another one of those weights that I took off my shoulders and sat down on the ground to leave behind me.
Jane was quiet all through lunch then excused herself to make her own way home.
“Is she ok? Did… Did my-”
“She’s fine, Bobby.” Mary smiled. “Little girl has a big crush on this guy and she’s trying to work out how to deal with it. This is what she’s like when she’s thinking.”
“Arsehole better treat her good.” Glen grumbles.
“Do you know him?” I ask. “Do I know him?”
“He’s alright, Bobby.” Mary tells me. “Eat your steak.”
Perhaps… Surely not. Not me…
Then a dark thing wraps me in its web. I see Nelly’s wall again and frown imagining some bloke making Janey feel like that. The rest of lunch is quiet. Glen and I talk about maintenance and Mary fusses on Christmas preparation. The rest of her children will be coming home and I’m informed I’m not invited, it’s now in my contract that I have to attend.
It’s just on seven-thirty and I’ve assembled myself in the back of the old ute on a pair of couch cushions with a bucket full of beer and some ice to watch the sunset on this weird old day. It’s like every day out here someone gets up and paints a sky for me, then every night it turns to blood and washes the day’s sins away.
Red, the colour of flames and bleeding, splashes as far as I can see to the west and the boiling yellow ball of the sun drops lower in the sky. The internet says it’s dust in the atmosphere that makes the sky so red out here. To me it’s just home now. It’s how things should be in a much smaller world where words and deeds carry weight they don’t in the city.
My name is Robert Ruben Holmes and out here that means something. In the city it’s just a pigeon squawk among a million others.
The sound of a quad bike approaching jolts me from my daydreams and deep thoughts.
“Hoy dickhead. Want some company?”
“Hey Janey. Climb on up.” I pull the cushion from behind my back and make a place for her to sit.
“So. The man-whore is drinking his sins away?” She looks sideways at me and grabs one of my beers.
“Something like that.”
“How many?”
“Six. I’ve got a few more inside but they’re hot.”
“Women. Not beers. How many chicks have you fucked?”
“Oh. Okay then. Um…”
“Don’t lie to me, please.” There’s a dark threat in the quiet request.
“Well, the truth is I couldn’t give you a number. don’t know. But every other Friday night, god sometimes Friday and Saturday, different girls. Why is this important to you, Janey? I don’t feel good about it.”
“Six.”
“Yeah, half a carton inside still. I’ll just have to put them on ice.”
“No, me… Six. Six people.”
“Oh.”
“Too many?” She settles back against the tub and leans against my arm as she opens her beer.
“Depends how you feel about them I guess.”
“One of them I don’t like. The others I’m happy about.”
I just watch the sunset and sip at my beer.
“How old are you?” She eventually asks.
“Twenty-six.”
“Twenty-two.”
“Bullshit.”
“Nope. Twenty-two years old.”
“Oh… I thought maybe third year nursing and well I guess that math works. You just look-”
“Like a boy?”
“No Janey. Young. You look younger than that. Sorry. A boy?”
“My hair cut.”
“It’s very pretty. Suits you.” I reach out to push the curls back over her ear. “Playful and business-like at the same time.”
“Bullshit.” She smiles and blushes. “But I got it when I left Kerry.”
“Why, what did he do?”
“She.”
“Okay.”
“She raped me. One night we’d been out drinking and she was flirting with this other girl and I called her on it and then we got home and I was like, ‘no’ and she just didn’t listen and told me I was too pretty not to fuck and she just… Well, after that… She was just pushy, not violent. Just I didn’t…”
“Can I hug you?”
“Please.”
So, I watched the sunset and pulled a crying Jane into my chest and tried to work out how to drink a beer at the same time as she settled down.
“So today when I spoke at church, that kind of triggered you? I’m really sorry. I don’t even know why I got up and spoke. I’m a bit embarrassed now and I hate that I’ve messed with your feelings, Janey.”
“I’m okay. It’s not your fault. It’s just stuff I’ve been trying to ignore. I actually thought you were very brave. I’d be too embarrassed to stand up and talk about myself. I’ve not got much of a story to tell anyone anyway. Life’s been pretty simple for me. I’m sorry about your friend and I’m sorry for the silent treatment.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“Oh. Dad said to tell you to take a week off. We knock off for Christmas next week anyway and he said you never take holidays. Will you go away?”
“I should visit Dad and my brother, but Andrew is a teacher and he’s down the North Coast on holidays with his family and Dad’s a bit funny at this time of year. I don’t know what I’ll do really. I don’t like time sitting around. I don’t like thinking much. Rather keep busy.”
The sunset has faded to a faint blush on the horizon and the first stars twinkle above us. Janey yawns where she’s snuggled into my side. Looking down from the stars I see her pretty bow-tie lips open and her tongue dart to wet them. Her eyes burn darkly into mine then they close as she pulls me to her. She tastes like beer and heat. Her hair smells like frangipanni flowers then she is quickly gone.
“So… keeping busy.” She tells me quietly from beside her quad bike. “Fishing? Tomorrow, I’ll show you my secret spot.”
In my defence, the boss’s gorgeous daughter just landed a lovely kiss on me, so my brain is still catching up.
“Robert?”
“Oh yeah. Wow.” I touch my lips in disbelief and earn a giggle.
“Have you worked it out yet?”
“What?”
“It’s you. The boy mum said I had a crush on. So be kind and be honest. That’s all I expect. It’s okay if you just want to be mates too.”
“Fishing sounds great. J aney, tell me though…”
“Tell you what?”
“Does your Dad own many guns?”
“Haha. Yes, and if he’s mean to you, I’ll use one on him. I know a cute scraper driver who can bury him even. Fishing is at sunrise.”
As I watch her ride off back to the big house my mind is a mess of thoughts and emotions.
“Bobby?”
“Charlie?”
“You ever get tested? This slurry from Cunnamulla give me fucking crabs once the dirty cunt.”
“Yes Charlie. I did. Do you listen to fucking everything?”
“Better than fucking television.”
“Fuck off, Charlie.”
~* *~
“The boss’s daughter?” Dad chortles on the phone.
“Yeah. So…”
“So what? You’re not sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Well do you like her or not, boy?”
“She’s sweet Dad. Just…”
“You’re worried about your job? You don’t think you deserve her? This is that different that you should be trying, idiot.”
“I’m a little bit afraid of hurting her.”
“Good lord boy. Then it’s done.”
“What’s done?”
“That’s how I felt with your Mum. I think it’s how you’re supposed to feel when you love someone. Like their feelings are more important to you than your own.”
“Oh. How are you doing, Dad? Christmas is pretty rough. Are you going to visit Andy or…”
“Yeah well… It is what it is. I’m not going to inflict myself on his family. I’ll just have a whiskey with her like I do every year.”
“Just look after yourself, okay.”
“Boy, I’m not like your friend Nelly. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I know. Just it’s the first Christmas I won’t have been home to distract you.”
“You just worry about yourself, Bobby. Forget about all that for a little while and focus on the nice things that are happening in that new world you’ve made for yourself. You deserve them. I’m proud of you buddy.”
“Love you too, old man.”
“Talk to you boxing day.”
“See ya.”
Our family do a big ring around traditionally on boxing day rather than on Christmas day. We let each enjoy Christmas with their respective families then catch up with one another after the fact. My nerves about meeting Glen and Mary’s other kids and where this thing with Jane is heading keep me awake much later than usual and my dreams when they come are scrawled walls and a screaming zombie bride.
“You look like shit, Robert.” She smirks when I open the donger door.
“Good morning to you, too.”
She laughs at me and pours me a coffee from her thermos.
“You’re not one of those morning people are you, Janey?” I sit on the steps of my donger and sip at the hot wake up juice. It’s better than the instant dirt-water-povorhea that I keep in the donger .
“Guilty.” She giggles and sips from her mug. “I was a bit excited. Had a hot date with this nice guy that I’ve been making friends with for the last six weeks.”
“Fishing is your idea of a hot date?”
“I’m a simple girl, Robert. Not some kind of princess. And I love fishing. Dad and Tom used to take me fishing all the time when I was little. Then I turned into a girl one day and they kind of forgot I liked fishing and chasing pigs and shooting and all that. Now get some gear on and jump in. You’re holding us up. Sun will be up shortly.”
“Oh, shit.” I’m suddenly aware that I’m just wearing boxers. That’s usually what I sleep in. “Sorry. One sec.”
“Don’t be sorry on my account, spunky.” She giggles as I pull the door behind me.
Moments later we trundle quietly along in the side by side. She picks a careful path along a fence line and down towards the irrigation pumps that line the river. There are six of them on cement pads that pump Glen’s water allocation up to the ring tanks for irrigation. They’re big turbo diesel motors that cost as much as some of the earthmoving equipment.
“Almost there, mate. The pump hole is pretty deep but just down along the bank a bit is a real deep spot where the flood water carves the bank out a bit. It’s good for a swim and the fish hold up there where the gum’s fall in. Especially when it’s hot.”
The coffee is starting to kick in and the first light is driving the restless night from the sky. She parks on a grassy bank under some overhanging Eucalypts that stretch great grey branches out over the muddy brown river.
“Grab those chairs, Robert.”
“You’re all set up.” She has bait, rods and a tackle box that she wrestles down to the water’s edge and assembles.
“Oh, it speaks.”
“Coffee’s kicking in.”
“Didn’t sleep well?”
“Not particularly. When did you get time to get bait?”
“Threw a couple of pots in the house dam last night before bed. Dad helped. You know how to fish?”
“I go fishing with Dad now and then. Not freshwater though.”
“Well, nothing to it really. It’s mostly sitting and daydreaming. Come on I’ll show you how to put one of these nippy little fuckers on.” I watch intently as she wrangles a small crayfish from the bucket and puts a hook through its tail. Then it’s her turn to watch and giggle at my attempts to avoid nippers and hook one.
She has these contraptions made out of sticks that she leans her rod against after setting the drag, so I follow suit and sit back down beside her.
“See… mostly sitting.” She smiles and flashes those honey brown eyes at me. “Do you want another coffee, before you tell me what kept you from sleeping well.”
“I mightn’t be going to tell you.”
“You will. You’re probably just a bit embarrassed. I didn’t sleep well either but that’s because I was nervous. I don’t even know why. When I’m around you I actually feel calmer than when I’m not.”
“How do you even make sentences at this time of morning?”
“More coffee it is then.” She laughs and gets up to fetch the thermos and our mugs. “Here you go, grumpy head.”
“I was talking with Dad before bed. Christmas is difficult for us.”
“Why?” She watches me gently and sips her coffee. There is only empathy in her eyes. Not curiosity. Care… Gently frowned care like she wants to know me.
“Mum died on Christmas morning a few years ago.”
“Oh my god! That’s terrible! I’m so sorry for pressing you now.”
Before I can tell her it’s okay, she’s launched herself into my lap and pulled my head to her neck in a warm cuddle.
“It’s okay to talk about, Janey. Just early morning and I worry about Dad. He’s always in a bit of a funk and-”
“And your friend who took her life. If you’re worried, why don’t you go stay with him.”
“Ha. He’s a proud bloke. I’ve got brothers he could visit but he doesn’t like to fuck anyone else’s day up.”
“What happened to her? Is it okay to ask?”
“Yeah. Just a stupid accident. She was out of something or other and ducked into town to grab it before the other boys turned up for a big Christmas lunch. When she didn’t come back on time, Dad went looking for her and found the car upside down in a table drain. No-one’s fault. We think she swerved to miss a kangaroo or something.”
“That’s dreadful. On Christmas day and everything. It’s just fucked up. I’m really sorry I asked and really sorry for your family, Robert.” Her warm lips press against my forehead and as she sits back in her own chair, she wipes at her eyes. “And you’d go home except Mum asked you to stay?”
“Ha. Well, that and there’s a chick I’m getting to know.”
“Well, Mum’s a busy-body and she’s been conniving since I got home, ‘Jane, be a dear and go ask that nice young Bobby fellow if he’d like to join us for dinner. I don’t like the idea of the boys being lonely on the weekends.’ ‘Jane, have you checked Bobby’s stitches? If they get infected…'”
Jane rolls her eyes and blushes before something startles her. ” Hey, gently… Don’t spook it. But somethings nibbling on yours. Just take the slack out of the line… That’s it! You’ve got one.”
The fish fights like a freight train for a few moments then just makes a dead weight of itself. Just as it gets to the bank it rolls wildly before Janey dips the net under it. I don’t know who’s happier about me catching the fish. Jane dances on the spot as she deftly reaches down to grab the fish by its lip and pull the hook out.
“Woohoo! There’s dinner! Mum’s going to love you. That’s a nice little cod. Her fucking fave.” I watch the seriousness creep over her smiling face as she pulls out her pocketknife and bleeds the fish. Then it’s placed in a hessian chaff bag and put back in the water to keep it cool.
“Come here.” She looks up from washing her hands. Standing before me she hooks her fishy smelling hands behind my neck and pulls me down to her lips. There’s a hint of tongue in the brief exchange. Enough to let me taste the coffee in her mouth and then she giggles and pushes me away. “That’s for catching a fish.”
“Oh… Not cause you like kissing me or something?”
“Definitely not.” She blushes and busies herself with her line.
By about ten, the heat and the flies had found us. We had three more lovely kisses that got progressively more passionate. One was when she pulled in a fish that she called a jewfish. One was when she caught a fish she called a ‘dirty stinking carp’, and the last one was, “Just because I really like kissing you, Robert. And it’s time to head back and clean these fish.”
“Oh. Well, thanks for a lovely morning. This is actually, probably the first real date I’ve ever been on.”
“It’s not over yet, you womble. You’re staying for lunch. Mum will want to smirk at me and tease. Dad’s going to help you fillet these and burn that ugly tentacle faced arsehole, then we’ll have them for dinner. After dinner, I’m not going to throw myself at you and you can go home to your donger then.” Jane tells me quite seriously as she drags gear to the UTV and loads it. “What?”
“Why me, Janey? You… I’ve seen when we have Sunday lunch. The blokes just hover around you like flies. Why some dumb scraper driver?”
“Why not?” She snaps. “Give me one fucking good reason, why not! Besides, those boys don’t deserve me.”
“Neither do I.”
“But you want to. And you’re not them. Not just looking for a root. Not going to big-note yourself all through town because you got with me. And because I trust you. Because you make me feel safe and because you’re gentle. Because my parents see the same man in you that I do. Because you’re honest when you don’t have to be and damn it! Just because… Do you have any other dumb questions, dickhead?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Now drive. I didn’t sleep very well and I get cranky when I’m hungry.”
“Noted.” I get the smallest smirk from her as she opens a muesli bar and hands me the keys.
“Gidday kids.” Glen calls from deeper in the machinery shed when I turn off the UTV.
“Hey Dad. Have a look at this beauty cod that Robert caught.”
“Bit hot for cod.”
“I thought so too.” Jane is glowing as she holds it up for him.
“Geez, that’s gotta be seventy-”
“Seventy-three.”
“Be good eating. You gonna let me cook it for dinner, Bobby?”
“Yes Sir. I’ve been told so.”
“Haha. That’s how it goes around here. Just like her mother.”
“Don’t be a pig, Dad. Where is mum?”
“Doing books. She’ll be as cranky as a cut snake. You know how she hates it.”
“So…” Glen raises an eyebrow at me as we watch Jane wander over the lawns into the house. “Did you enjoy fishing? Little lady has always loved it.”
“Yeah. Not really a morning person but…” I’m smiling as I remember the quiet and the kisses and the joy on her face.
“Yup.” He pats me on the back. “That’s why I always took her fishing too. Just to watch her little face light up. Do you still get kisses for catching a fish?”
“Haha. Apparently, it’s a thing.” I mumble and can feel the heat in my neck and face.
“It always was. Just, maybe the ones you get might be a bit different to mine. Come on… I’m just yanking your chain. It feels good. We’ll clean these and get them in the fridge then it will be lunch bells for sure.”
Cleaning the fish was done silently like Dad and I when we do things together. Nods and pointing take the place of words and things get done efficiently. We both look back toward the house when we hear a cow bell and Glen nods at the hand scrub in the corner of the little laundry.
Lunch is quiet. Glen and Mary share knowing looks as we talk about fishing and it’s the first time that I’ve actually seen Jane wearing a dress at home and no baseball cap. Usually, that’s reserved for Sundays.
Jane blushes furiously when Mary asks about the kissing rule. “Why break a good tradition, Mum?”
When the cold cuts and salad is finished, Mary takes our plates and Jane follows her into the kitchen. “I’ll just wash up and then back to the grindstone. If I don’t finish them this week, it’ll be a mess.”
“She likes to get the books up to date before Christmas so that she can relax and enjoy family. I’m no help to her. When it comes to numbers, I’m good with a spanner.”
“What is she working on, Glen?” I sip my beer. Apparently, beer at lunch time on the weekend is another good tradition not to be broken.
“Business Activity Statement. But that means first getting the ledgers all up to date with expenses and incomes. There’s the agri and earth sides both to balance and then wages. Wages just about do her head in. But she won’t let me pay an accountant.”
“Haha oh hahhaha.” I can’t help laughing. It sort of rises in my chest until I’m wiping my eyes.
Glen is looking at me like I’ve lost my marbles when I settle enough to finish my beer.
“Boss, before I got in my car one day and headed west, I worked sixty-hour weeks in an accounting firm. We looked after books for all manner of business. My section looked after three mining companies. I’m not familiar with agri-business but I’m sure if Mary ran me through things, I could lend a hand.”
He looked sternly at me for a long moment before standing and getting two more beers for us.
“All this time, I’ve had you playing with big yellow toys and you tell me now that you have a brain?” I can’t work out if he’s angry or amused.
“Jane!” There’s a definite ‘tone’ to his raised voice.
“Dad?” She pops her head around the doorway.
“Send the old chook in here. I’ll help with the damn dishes.”
“You okay?” Jane asks nervously and I smile.
Much later Mary and I follow the smell of fresh fish frying on the grill outside and find Jane and Glen listening to some quiet country music. Jane stands and claims me with a hug.
“It’s supposed to be my date, and you spent it all with my Mum.” She pouts.
“Boy is a damn genius, Glen. It’s all done. Finished. The whole lot. I’ve got nothing to do for a month until the first pay run after the men start back. I could kiss him myself if I wasn’t worried little miss would belt me.”
Jane releases me long enough for me to sit at the wooden outdoor setting then plonks herself on my lap while we talk. Mary tries to explain some of the accounting to Glen who just shakes his head and throws his hands up. There were a lot of small things that she was missing and I was able to help minimise their tax quite a bit just by following the rules a little more closely.
We eat fish and drink beer and I swell with a feeling of belonging and family.
“…going to call Wendy and see how she’s doing. She really could use help but only if you don’t mind, Bobby. She’s a dear woman and panics when it comes to the books.”
“She can pay the boy.” Glen warns.
“Of course, dear. As will you. What Bobby did in three hours this afternoon would have cost us the best part of fifteen hundred dollars in town.”
“No… please no. I just wanted to help. You owe me nothing.”
“Bullshit lad. Mary is a right cow until she’s got it sorted. You did us all a giant favour.”
“Nope. No charge.”
“I insist.”
“Glen…” It angers me that he can extend kindness to me because he’s the boss and cannot accept it in return. “No! No charge for family. And you’ve been family to me, both of you, since that day you took a chance on a stranger. Since you invited me along to church. Since… Just hell no.”
The table is silent for a while. It’s only broken when Jane starts laughing.
“Bobby, you must be family.” Mary joined in laughing. “There’s been no-one tell that grumpy old bugger ‘no’ to his face for years.”
“Except my dear wife and my children.” Glen laughs. “Let me think about all this for a week or two, Bobby. It’s criminal not to use your abilities to their best.”
“Hiding your light in a bushel, Bobby. Tell me, do you hate that work? Was it something you were escaping too?”
“Not really the work. Just the lifestyle and the business of it.”
When people started yawning, I wondered if I had outstayed my welcome. Jane rescued me by saying, “Come on, Robert. I’ll drop you home and we can have a few beers and let these oldies get to bed.”
“If you’re drinking you can stay over there. I don’t want you driving that bloody quad on the piss.”