Louis came over once but told Susie that he didn’t like it there. It was oppressive, he said, pretending to cower under an imaginary leaden cloud. Susie felt like she was spread too thin. She was still catching up with Geoffrey, having dinner at Louis’, going out and playing backgammon at home. There wasn’t enough time for it all. When watching Rosemary and Piggy play off for the Cheddar Cheese Trophy (a three-way first to fifty), her mind wandered over her life. She concluded that even though she spent time with her friends, she was really alone. At The Exchange she danced alone, despite being surrounded by her friends, she played backgammon alone, with the others being background noise, and even though she walked and sat with Geoffrey, she was really bouncing her alone thoughts out loud.

  ‘Are you alone right now, Piggy?’ she asked. He was the most experienced alone person she knew.

  ‘My self is always alone, but I am not alone now,’ he said as he rolled a six–one. Susie liked his accent and wanted to ask about his background. She said she was feeling unwell and went to lay down. It wasn’t entirely untrue, it just wasn’t her body that felt ill.

  When she woke up, it was early evening and Rosemary was getting ready for church. Susie liked that Rosemary never harped on about God or tried to convert her. She invited herself along. They arrived at an oblong building with no crosses or anything that made it look like a church. There were swarms of young people all milling around chatting gaily. It could have been Susie and her friends as they hung by the staircase that went nowhere. Except they dressed like middle-aged people. The boys had button up shirts and actual trousers, the girls wore skirts below the knees. Susie was the only one in jeans and she felt a little self-conscious. Rosemary introduced her to a few people before realising that Susie was there as an observer only. She had seen the faraway look in Susie’s eyes before and left her to her own devices. Every now and then she would look for Susie and they would make eye contact and pass a little smile. Susie appreciated that she was keeping an eye on her and didn’t find it at all intrusive.

  The group started making their way into the building and there was an electric atmosphere inside. Susie was surprised to see a full band kit up on stage. She was expecting a dowdy man with a pulpit, a microphone and a scratchy voice telling tales of redemption and the benefits and positive results of hard work. Some of the young people hopped up on stage and the crowd went mental. They played rock music. Susie couldn’t believe it. The crowd was up and dancing and singing along with the words that were only a little bit God-ish. Susie smiled along and headed outside to sit on a rock and smoke after a couple of songs.

  She was pleased that Rosemary had a sense of belonging and she realised she did too with her eclectic mix of people she went dancing with. Over the time they had been going to The Exchange, Susie had met people that always seemed pleased to see her. Collette was the smallest person Susie had ever seen, and she always wore a pointed hat that made her look like a garden gnome. She wrote poems and Susie had spent hours reading them on the stairs that went nowhere. Cranky Jess had turned out to be funny, on the odd occasion that she spoke. It was like she saved all the good bits and said them at once, so she didn’t waste time filling in gaps like everyone else did. As Susie sat there smoking she thought Jess had been good for her. Susie herself was much less of a chatterbox these days. Well at least she tried. Stanley danced with her all the time. He was from the western suburbs and said that he had to have two personalities. His parents were Salvation Army people that hadn’t had a real conversation with him since birth. He said he developed a home persona and realised his new persona was the real him and that he had been a persona his whole life – until he met the motley crew that sat on the stairs that went nowhere. Everyone hugged him as he revelled in his freedom discovery. Even mostly Cranky Jess.

  It had been a while since Susie had gone out. Backgammon had taken a front seat. As she sat there waiting for Rosemary, she decided to reconnect with her friends. She wasn’t alone after all. She stood and stretched out her melancholy and let it fly off into the wind before she grinned broadly at the trees; which was how Rosemary found her.

  ‘You look as happy as I feel,’ Rosemary said as she linked arms with Susie. The unlikely pair made their way home for melted cheese on Cruskits and a bedtime game of backgammon.

  CHAPTER 29

  Susie had wound up at some apartment near Oxford Street somewhere. It wasn’t too far off the main drag and she was always able to find her way around. Training herself in knowing north, south, east and west had held her in good stead. Sydney wasn’t based on a grid like Melbourne, so she had learned to do it from the time of day and the placement of the sun. Sometimes she imagined being on a boat on the high seas hundreds of years ago.

  ‘Help us, Susie,’ the captain would cry. ‘We’re going around in circles,’ he would say over the sounds of the waves, which were so high they splashed everyone on the deck. Susie would navigate them out of trouble every time without fail and they would go on to discover many new lands. At the last dock, the captain would paint over the name ‘Sea Angel’ with ‘Susie Shoes’.

  But Susie wasn’t a hero tonight. She was trying to stay afloat in a different way. She had smoked a joint after drinking over half a cask of wine and she felt so ill that she went to the bathroom to chuck up. She hadn’t made it to the toilet, but she had made it to the basin. Which was now blocked and three quarters full of vomit. She sat on the edge of the bath to gather herself and find a solution. She couldn’t leave the basin blocked with her vomit. When she was sure she had stopped spewing – for now – she looked under the sink and in every hidey place she could find in the bathroom. No plunger. She pulled up her shirt sleeves and went in. Using the palm of her hand and sparing bursts of water, she had managed to plunge half of it down. It was sickening work and she stopped to have a cry. Her head was spinning and she could barely stand, but her progress thus far encouraged her to keep going. She used toilet paper to line her hands and fed the toilet handfuls of vomit in between the slow work of hand plunging. Her head clock told her she’d been there for at least half an hour, and that was allowing for time being slower than normal. She took small sips of water from the bath tap to keep her going and she washed her hands and forearms regularly.

  Eventually the job was done and the bathroom looked as though no one had even blocked the basin with vomit. She made her way back to the living area. The people she had come with had gone. There were two men sitting on the couch under a window. They were in their own world and Susie was not in a state to be able to walk yet. Her brain was clag, her mouth was sandpaper, she had double vision and she was very close to chucking again. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor half listening to the two men. Her head throbbed.

  ‘I really need a Coke.’

  ‘Well, you can’t go and get one now.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. I’ll have to wait until the market closes.’

  ‘Unless you want to walk through it.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to disturb those fish sellers. They seem pretty aggressive. They’ll make me buy a fish and I only have enough money for a Coke.’

  ‘Well don’t buy fish unless you want fish more than a Coke.’

  ‘I won’t. But I’m thirsty now.’

  ‘Well, you’ll just have to wait until the market closes then. Unless we borrow the money off someone.’

  Susie made herself look small. She didn’t have any money to lend them. She was actually beginning to see the imaginary fish market in the lounge room.

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘Roger.’

  ‘Funny you should say that, there he is! In the fuckin’ market.’

  ‘He is too. ROGER.’

  ‘No, don’t bring attention to us. Those fishmongers’ll make me buy a fish.’

  ‘Well, we could take a chance on Roger lending us the money for a fish so you can use the money you’ve got for a Coke. I want a sip.’

  ‘But if Roger can’t lend us the money then we’re fucked. We’ll just have to have fish then.’

  ‘This is absurd. There’s always a way around problems.’

  Susie wanted to leave but still didn’t have the required skills to get herself to the door. Aside from the fact she couldn’t quite get up, she didn’t want to walk through the imaginary market to the front door across the lounge room. She didn’t need any attention right then.

  ‘Feeling rather optimistic, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, well it beats being a constant misery guts like you.’

  ‘I’m not a misery guts. I’m realistic. I want a Coke. There’s a fuckin’ market in front of my front door. I can’t get to the shop. Fact. What’s the solution, oh wise one?’

  ‘Sarcasm’s the lowest form of wit.’

  ‘Even if it is, it’s not as unstylish as using clichés.’

  ‘You’re really grumpy when you need caffeine.’

  ‘Yeah, well I’m trying to address that by getting a fucking Coke, aren’t I?’

  ‘Mmm. The only way is to get Roger’s attention and ask him for help.’

  ‘Shit, did you hear that? It was the doorbell. Why don’t we get whoever that is to buy a Coke and come back and then they can walk through the market. See if THEY can manage to get through without buying a fish, and if THEY can, WE can.’

  ‘We’ll already have the Coke then, dickhead, and there’s no need to whisper.’

  ‘True. But we don’t know if the market’s ever going to close. We could be locked in here for days. Then we won’t be able to get the paper tomorrow, but we will if whoever’s at the door can get through, because then we’ll know if it’s possible. The mafia own the markets you know, we don’t want to fuck with the mafia.’

  ‘All right then, WHO IS IT?’

  ‘DAVE.’

  ‘WHICH DAVE? THE ONE WITH THE RIGHT LEG OR THE ONE WITH THE LEFT LEG?’

  ‘THE ONE WITH BOTH LEGS, BUT TWO CRUTCHES.’

  Susie couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her. If she didn’t feel so ill, she was pretty sure she would have laughed by now. Another wave of nausea hit and she put her head in her hands, willing herself not to throw up on the market.

  ‘HANG ON. What are we going to do?’

  ‘If we ask him to get a Coke he’ll be gone all night. Imagine how long it took him to get up to our door on his crutches, let alone to the shop. Then again, we have no choice. PRICE OF ENTRY IS A CAN OF COKE.’

  ‘I ALREADY THOUGHT OF THAT, OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR.’

  ‘WE CAN’T.’

  ‘WHY NOT?’

  ‘THERE’S A FUCKIN’ MARKET IN THE WAY.’

  ‘JESUS FUCKIN’ CHRIST. ARE YOU SERIOUS? EVEN IF THERE IS A MARKET, WALK THROUGH IT AND OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR.’

  ‘CAN’T DO THAT EITHER. WE DON’T WANT TO BUY A FISH.’

  Susie knew she was going to spew again. She took the hat off her head. It was a Greek fisherman’s hat that she had saved up for, and she vomited in it. It filled right to the top but didn’t spill over. She picked it up, reached around the doorway and put it on the floor out of sight.

  ‘LOOK, I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS CRAP. I’LL PUT FIVE BUCKS UNDER THE DOOR SO YOU CAN BUY ME A FISH. I NEED A FISH … SO WALK THROUGH THE MARKET AND BUY ME A FISH, SEEING AS I REALLY WANT ONE, THEN I’LL SWAP YOU THE COKE FOR THE FISH.’

  ‘BUT THEN YOU’LL BE SWAPPING YOUR OWN COKE FOR YOUR OWN FISH. I DON’T NEED ANY FAVOURS FROM YOU.’

  ‘HAVE YOU GUYS GOT ANYTHING AT THE MOMENT?’

  ‘MAYBE.’

  ‘LOOK, I’LL LEAVE SIXTY BUCKS UNDER THE DOOR AND YOU WAIT TIL I GET DOWNSTAIRS AND THROW ME THE STUFF DOWN.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea you know.’

  ‘ALL RIGHT. GIVE US A YELL WHEN YOU’RE DOWN THERE.’

  ‘Shit. Now he’s put the money under the door and some passer-by’s going to trouser it. Great fuckin’ idea that was.’

  Susie tried to stand up. She desperately needed to drink some water. Her legs were too wobbly and even getting halfway up brought a fresh wave of nausea.

  ‘If someone takes the cash, we won’t throw the speed down.’

  ‘What if someone takes it after we’ve thrown it down?’

  ‘Well, we won’t throw it down at all. Just in case.’

  ‘OKAY, I’M READY.’

  ‘SORRY, DAVE, WE CAN’T THROW IT DOWN IN CASE SOMEONE PICKS UP THE MONEY.’

  ‘FOR FUCK’S SAKE.’

  ‘IF YOU FOUND SIXTY BUCKS ON THE GROUND, WOULD YOU KEEP IT?’

  ‘THERE’S NO ONE FUCKIN’ THERE. YOU’RE HALLUCINATING.’

  ‘UP YOUR BUM.’

  ‘I’M COMING BACK UP AND THE DOOR BETTER BE OPEN, BITCH.’

  ‘IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN IF YOU HADN’T CALLED ME BITCH. Can you believe that?’

  ‘No one has the right to call you a bitch. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.’

  ‘That’s right. Call me a fuckin’ bitch. Now he won’t get the drugs or the money. Now let’s sit here real quiet and when he gets back, we’ll pretend we’re not here.’

  ‘Yeah, what’s he gunna do, call the cops?’

  ‘Hah.’

  As they sat there quietly pretending not to be home, Susie dry retched. There was nothing left in her system to throw up. The men on the couch looked over at the noise.

  ‘Well, heeeellooooo,’ one of the men said. Susie knew instantly that she was in trouble. There was hunger on his face.

  ‘OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR.’

  ‘S’ALL RIGHT, DAVE, I’M DOING THE WINDOW DROP NOW.’

  ‘YOU BETTER NOT BE LYING.’

  One of the men threw something out the window, the other started towards her. She was equidistant from the men and the door. There was no more fish market. She looked at the door, pushed herself up with all her might and willed her legs to run.

  All the times where she wanted to run from things she couldn’t run from came back to her. She launched herself up and ran from Mack, from Wexley, from her dead mum in the hospital, from being removed from school, from Mary’s Magic Sandwiches, from the shame, from the lies, from the regret, from the unsaid things – and from the men. She ran like the wind.

  She didn’t make it.

  THE MOON IS BIG TONIGHT

  She loped towards Miss Kaye in a body too big for her, sporting a crop of large loose curls that formed a natural Lego hair helmet on top of her head. Before taking a sharp turn towards her room, she poked a note through the staff window.

  ‘I swallowed a razor,’ it said. Miss Kaye watched her walk to the left side of the unit as she picked up the phone.

  ‘Yeah, I’m going to bring someone down, swallowed a razor blade,’ Miss Kaye said, noting that they shut down in half an hour.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Nothing depleted empathy more than a looming home time.

  ‘Yep. I’ll be there in five.’ She hung up before any protestations then walked out onto the wing.

  ‘Come on, grab a jacket. It’s cold, I’ll walk you to medical.’ Matter of fact.

  ‘Oooh, are you all right, love?’ said a nearby resident, placing her hand on Lego Hair’s arm, feigning concern.

  ‘Yeeeaah,’ she said. She always elongated her words, especially when she’d self-harmed.

  ‘She’s fine, I’m taking her to medical.’ Staccato. No time for contributions. Out the door.

  Once they had left the building, their pace slowed. It was chilly, but dusk seduced them, slowed them down.

  Walking.

  Miss Kaye counted steps. Ten so far. Medical was between eighty-six and ninety-one steps depending on how relaxed she was.

  ‘Anything else you need to tell me about?’ Miss Kaye asked. Casual. She idly wondered how much more troubled she’d be if she didn’t have a hair helmet keeping her brain in.

  ‘Yeeeaah,’ Lego Hair said, taking three steps before lumbering to a stop. Step eighteen, just before the kangaroo paw.

  Miss Kaye waited. She had time.

  Lego Hair pulled up the arm of her windcheater to reveal perfect criss-cross cuts that would make a Christmas ham proud.

  The wounds were examined.

  ‘Okay, well don’t forget to show that to medical.’

  In the failing light Miss Kaye could see little blue fluff balls from her windcheater flicking across the cuts and blood puddles in the breeze. Tumbleweeds. Lego Hair pulled her sleeve down.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ Miss Kaye asked. She didn’t usually feel the need to fill silences.

  ‘Yeeaah,’ said Lego Hair, walking again.

  ‘So where’d you get the razor?’ Miss Kaye asked. Nonchalant. Threw in a bit of lackadaisical for good measure. This was the one that mattered. How the heck did she get a razor?

  ‘Sharpener,’ she said. Just like that.

  You give someone pencils to assist in raising happiness and this is what you get. Not two hours before, Lego Hair had walked up to the window, big dopey grin, holding up a coloured-in picture of a mermaid. Miss Kaye had been complimentary. And she’d even meant it; mostly.

  ‘It’s a shame you don’t show that sort of initiative in other areas, Miss Poulson.’ A lopsided grin spread up her face. Step thirty-seven, where gravel turns to concrete. ‘So what are you going do when you leave here?’ Miss Kaye asked. It was hard to imagine all these people scattered around suburban Melbourne. Like diseased trees. Hard to spot from a distance.

 

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