Inappropriate: Three Short Stories Page 3
I waited till the others had gone before I knocked on her door. A moment later, her curtain twitched but I didn’t look her way. She knew I’d seen her. She opened the door through obligation. The chain pulled taut – like her look.
My voice seized up and I shrugged with a pathetic smile. ‘Just wanted to say sorry about the gnome and that.’ My trainers shifted. She wasn’t impressed. ‘I guess I gotta learn what seems funny in the nick ain’t funny out here. Er...how’s your kid, Fin?’
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t want me mentioning her son’s name. ‘Fine,’ she said and the door wavered. It seemed this conversation couldn’t end soon enough. As from now, I’d become a carrier of the Pox that must never breach her stoop. I retreated and she closed the door. Polite, yet cool. My trek to the hostel ended with Mick dragging me into a game of pool. Each ball kept going off-course, skewed like my smile. Zane, complete with a mist of Fanta and glue, snugged my shoulder. I flinched from his breath. ‘You heard about Manni?’ he asked. Manni had just moved his gaming business into town. ‘Word has it that Manni tripped on some steps, fractured his wrist. The surveillance team had to postpone installing the CCTVS until next week. The place is a sitting duck.’
My shrug weighed beneath the ton of bricks.
‘Me and Darrell ’re going in next Wednesday. We need a watch out.’
‘I...I dunno.’
‘I’ve already told Darrell you’re in.’
‘Why don’t you ask Tommy?’
‘Shush it, will ya? I don’t want no one overhearin’. I’ve told Darrell I want you in. You understand the system better than anybody here.’
It was a grubby compliment. I supped stale beer which failed to blot the dirty stain of what I was. We laughed at Sid B, mimicking his Tourettes. Poor Sid B, the sad twitcher got all confused.
I awoke anvil-headed beneath a rain-lashed window, but it wasn’t the rain that awoke me. Something tickled my lower lip, edging towards my open mouth. I slapped my nose and the thing took flight. A fat fruit fly, I sussed. I snapped my mouth shut along with the notion those suckered feet had probably clambered inside. I groaned and swooned myself upright.
In the bathroom, a splash of water caused me to flinch and I caught my reflection in the mirror. My delinquent life had left a haunted imprint. My buzzcut hair didn’t help. I was still okay-looking. Should be at twenty-two. I could put on a bantering charm if I wanted. Still it wouldn’t wash with Elaine. Yeah, I was good-looking...on the outside.
My hand jerked upwards and my fingers closed in like a Venus Flytrap. The fly brushed against my skin.
A knock came to the door. ‘Hey, Deke.’
Zane. He sounded all keen like, his tone hushed like a sneaking kid.
‘Deke. Open up, will ya!’
Only my eyes shifted his way.
‘Deke. I need to talk to you.’
The disappointment I’d seen in Elaine’s eyes coiled around my windpipe like elastic bands; the only thing that seemed real anymore. I closed my fist and the buzzing stopped.
‘Deke!’
I held my breath.
The door juddered. ‘Fuck you, then.’
His footsteps retreated. I brushed the cadaver from my hand.
She has a boyfriend. Anthony. Not Ant or Tony, not pronounced with a ‘t’ but with a ‘th’. Anthony. He works in IT. His world is virtual, not real like mine. His is all barcharts and figures and projections. I clear guttering and rubbish, make a difference people can see. He’s not good enough for Elaine. Neither was Fin’s dad. He worked on an oilrig, I heard. The long absences didn’t work out. Fin don’t have much to do with him anymore.
A familiar story.
I watched Elaine pick up Fin from kindergarten once I’d done my evaluation with Ed. The sunlight sparked amber from the iris of her right eye. Her red hair cascaded as she brushed her lips against his cheek. A woman in a camel coat trotted up and chatted alongside her.
They laughed.
I would have done anything to be in that woman’s place. Laughing with her.
Instead I was looking through a window into a world I didn’t belong. A dirty sneak in cartoon trainers.
I gathered bin bags from the back of the hostel and scattered garbage along Spink’s field. Tommy’s belligerent tone rumbled across the rec room the following week. ‘Someone’s taking’ the piss! I cleared every last bit of that crap from the back of them houses!’
Eddie wasn’t moved. He ordered he go back there or the probation officer will get to hear about it.
But I knew it wouldn’t come to that. ‘I’ll clear it,’ I said to Eddie.
Tommy’s frog eyes darted my way. ‘That hedge was clean,’ he griped. ‘I fuckin’ did it meself.’
‘Cool it, Tommy,’ my voice came all smooth and oily, like the prob officer himself. ‘It’s fine. I’ll do it.’
Tommy wasn’t grateful. He stormed off.
The arrangement was fine by Ed and the next day I was raking rubbish from the edge of Spink’s farm. I wasn’t really taking notice of what the rake was doing. I kept my eye on her back window. She loaded the washing machine then she made the tea. I kept raking. Then she came out to hang the linen. I backed into the bushes. ‘Fin,’ she called, ‘Fin! Don’t put those bricks in your mouth!’ She continued pegging. The sheets flapped in the breeze and I caught the aroma of soap flakes. I wanted to immerse myself within the sheets but suspected I would leave a dirty stain.
‘Oi, you there!’
The rake scuffed my trainers.
‘Yeah, you!’
I turned to see a spud-faced man glaring at me. That look converged upon a pinhead of countless accusatory looks I had encountered in my lifetime: security guards, teachers, parole officers, my own dad. But no, I hadn’t nicked anything or caused criminal damage.
‘I know who you are,’ he growled. ‘Soddin’ ex-jailbirds! You better watch yourself. Any nonsense round here, and I’m assuming it’s you. The police ’ll get to know about it.’
His growl drew Elaine’s attention. I lowered my head and continued to rake. Spuddy slunk into the house, unpinning his eyes from mine only at the last moment.
Elaine’s brow puckered under the sun – or was she suspicious? I took my chances and gave her a wave. She didn’t wave back. Like a fool, I foraged through my front pocket and dragged out a stone effigy. Her frown deepened at what she saw. Her form wavered between wills. She didn’t want to approach yet didn’t want to appear impolite. My voice sounded strained as she drifted over. ‘Got this for Fin,’ I called. The gnome felt heavy as I proffered the thing.
She stopped a fair distance, her expression immobile. ‘I couldn’t find a perfect match, but I thought your kid might like to paint him up real bright, like the last one.’
A smile dithered beneath a shadow. She approached and deftly took it before stepping back.
‘I thought Fin would like to paint it,’ I repeated trying to detain her.
‘Sure. Thanks.’
So...what’s Fin up to?’
‘Oh, just playing with the Lego.’
‘Yeah? I used to love that stuff. Mind you, it was just bricks in my day, nothin’ sophisticated like now.’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘...what with all those motorized gadgets and that. It’s so clever.’
But an invisible string seemed to be pulling her back to the house. My so-called charm was falling short. She waved the effigy. ‘Thanks for the replacement.’ And she trotted back inside.
I proceeded to rake. I kept raking as the shadows stretched long and the moon rose. I kept raking until cornstubbs had worn bare. Her lights went out. A balloon of acid pushed through my diaphragm. The idea of returning to the hostel of the jaundiced strip-lighting and Zane’s manic laughter appealed like inhaling water. I wished I belonged there little more than her. I pushed the rubbish into bin bags and tied the tops. I made a seat of the sacks and munched spam sarnies and orange squash. I chucked the crusts
aside, my stomach objecting. On impulse, I laid my coat over the sacks and rested my head. Ed can save his tantrum for tomorrow. I closed my eyes. In my nodding, corn sidled up my shins and the bone moon dribbled cold about my neck. It felt good. Pure. Because I was here not there. The night’s indifference didn’t see me as a grubby imposter. Here, I was as welcome as royalty.
I was close to her.
I came-to cramped and frigid. In my hobnails, my feet were blocks of ice. My breaths condensed against the sunrise as I levered my bones up to unfasten my boots. A pile of straw detonated in front of me. Panicked, I brought my heel down like a pickaxe and the straw’s heart cracked. With a moan, I plunged my hand into the straw and encountered sleek fur. I dragged the thing by the scruff of the neck and a dead rat hung from my fist. Its warmth sent nausea trickling into my gut though I felt a little bad about it. I slung the thing onto one of the piles. My sarnie leftovers had been strewn across the rubbish.
Rattie’s last meal.
I collected myself in case Elaine’s spuddy neighbour should spot me. I straightened my coat and finger-combed my hair. I then picked up my rake and began raking.
An hour later, I could hear her. My eyes rebounded her way as she entered the shed. Her re-emergence spurred my words. ‘Hope I didn’t disturb you this morning. Had to make an early start to finish off here.’
She paused to dish out that same closed look.
I rested my arm on the fence anyway. ‘Seems like someone left a lot of rubbish here.’
She eyed my manoeuvre. ‘Yes. Dog walkers, kids. They tend to leave litter.’
‘It’s