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Authors: Ainslie Paton

Grease Monkey Jive (39 page)

BOOK: Grease Monkey Jive
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“Was he over?”

“Police are waiting to talk to him when he wakes up.”

“Shit.”

“He could be dead, Dan.”

“Yeah and that might have bloody well made things easier.”

“Mate.”

“It’s always something with him. I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for him to hurt someone for a long time now. I should’ve turned him in myself. I was weak. If anyone dies, it’s my fault.”

“Cut it out, Dan. What were you supposed to do about him?”

“Something better than what I did do, which was fuck-all.”

“Go easy. It’s not that simple.”

“Crap, Mitch. It is that simple. I should’ve made sure he lost his licence and then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“That’s a crock of shit and you know it. Think he’d have taken any notice of losing his license?”

“He’d have lost his job without it. He wouldn’t have been in the semi where he could wipe out a whole family in one go.”

“And you’re telling me Jimmy couldn’t have done something just as bad with an ordinary car? Come on. You’re not responsible.”

“I wasn’t at the wheel, but it might as well be my fault. If anyone dies, he goes to gaol.”

Mitch didn’t have an answer to that, so they rode in silence. He fished his mobile out of his pocket and handed it to Dan. They had the same model handsets. “Swap the battery into yours.”

Dan’s phone beeped back to life, voice mails and text message tones making an odd, urgent music as they cascaded together heralding grief. He spent the remainder of the trip listening to messages and chasing up the rest of the Maddox men.

Kev was the first person Dan saw as they entered the waiting room. Kev and two blue uniformed police officers.

“He’s still out, Danny boy, but he’ll be ok.” Kev jerked his head to indicate the two officers, “Vultures are waiting for a blood sample.”

“And the family?”

Kev grimaced, “The kids will be ok.”

“The kids?”

“Not looking good for the mum and dad.”

Dan wanted to hit something. Was it reckless endangerment, manslaughter, murder? Was Jimmy about to orphan a couple of kids? What would happen to them, was there other family, how would they cope? Would someone wash their clothes, shop for them, cook for them, read them stories, make them brush their teeth, and kick a ball in the backyard? Tell them it was ok to cry?

He turned away, an itch in his skin, the stale smell of Jimmy’s old scratchy sofa where he’d first slept in his nose a hot tick of hard memory in his head. A nine year old boy in a waiting room like this, rigid plastic chairs, stark white light and cold air conditioning, late on a school night and he hadn’t done his homework or eaten dinner. Adults he didn’t know all around, touching him, asking him questions, trying to be nice, but making him more afraid. People crying and no one telling him what was going on and then that man arrived, smelling of petrol, with grease under his fingernails. Dan would have to go with him now, to his flat, to the itchy, smelly orange sofa.

“Hang in there, mate,” said Mitch. He’d seen the grey shade of fear and doubt cross Dan’s face making him look for a minute like he’d done as a boy when he’d come back to school after his mother’s death, with his unironed shirt, no tie, no lunch, and tapped down reserves of nervous energy and raw emotion.

Dan slumped in a chair between Mitch and Kev, lost in the past, knowing he needed to focus on things like lawyers and insurance companies, but not yet able to think his way clear to mopping up this new mess Jimmy made.

When a nurse called, “Maddox,” both Dan and Kev stood. “He’s awake and you can see him, but the officers want to talk to him first.”

They watched the boys in blue go down the corridor. Dan took a call from Ant made up of silence and swear words. Fred and Max arrived, Fluke and Katie fast on their heels.

Katie barrelled straight into Dan’s arms. “Forever a bastard your old man. Is there anything we can do?”

Dan looked at Fluke over Katie’s head. “Yeah, can you take Jeff for a few days? Fluke has keys to the flat.”

Katie nodded, gave him a teary look, and, when she stepped back to leave, Alex was there, Scott behind her. Alex took his hand and held it tight and Dan saw the smirk that passed between Kevin and Max. He made a mental note not to leave Alex alone with either of them, and then, seconds later, had to desert her to go see Jimmy.

“Just two of you,” the nurse said, no nonsense, two fingers raised.

Dan and Kevin passed the cops in the corridor. The elder of the two said, “It would go better for him if he cooperated. See if you can talk some sense into him.”

Dan stopped, swung back. “What are you saying?”

“He’s refusing to give us a blood sample. He has a history of driving offences. He’s looking at mandatory sentencing, a two-year gaol term at least.”

“And if he cooperates?”

“Let’s just say, it will go easier.”

Dan dropped his head, watched the officers exit. He caught a glimpse of Alex with Mitch back in the waiting room and prayed Mitch had the foresight to keep her from Max and Fred. His phone buzzed and he switched it off, followed Kevin up the corridor and into the curtained off cubicle.

“Five minutes,” said the nurse in the room and she left them with Jimmy, battered, still bloody, in a hospital gown with drips and tubes attached at wrist and side, wide awake and wired.

“Fucking cops! You tell them to leave me alone. I don’t have to give them fuck all. They can’t prove nothin’. There was oil on the road, wasn’t my fault. Get me a lawyer, Dan. I’m hurt. I need compo.”

“Dad, you need to cooperate. If there was oil on the road, they’ll find it.”

“If I cooperate, they’ll have me by the balls. We got to fight this. It’s not my fault.”

“Dad.” Dan shook his head. He’d known this was how it would play out.

“He’s right, Danny,” said Kev. “Get him a good lawyer.”

“Were you drinking?”

“I was working.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“That’s all you fucking well need to know. Whose side are you on? Just do what I asked – get me a fucking good lawyer.”

Dan stood at the end of Jimmy’s bed, his fists curled around the cool metal frame. He’d never hated his father more than he did now, and it tasted like dirt, thick in his mouth, gritty on his tongue.

“You might orphan two kids and now it’s my problem to get you a lawyer. You’ll want me to deal with the insurance company and the damage assessor and get your rig repaired and pay your fines and you know what, Dad? I’m over fixing your messes.”

“Are you frightened it’ll put a dent in your fucking little fortune? Mr Property Owner, Mr Development Application, Mr Bank Loan. It’ll just be play money to you.”

“It’s not the money.”

“What then? I’m your father.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You should take care of me when I need it.”

“Why? Did you ever take care of me?” Dan couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice. Fighting with Jimmy could reduce him to a snivelling kid all over again and he loathed the chip on his shoulder flavouring his words.

“Now, Danny boy. Not the time for this,” said Kev.

“Good a time as any,” rasped Jimmy.

Dan’s voice was raised, tight, his sentence clipped. “I’ve been responsible for you since I was a kid. I quit.”

“My son, the gutless quitter. No need to hit me this time. I’m already beat up.”

“Ah Jimmy, cut it out,” Kevin admonished. “Won’t help.”

“Thinks he’s too good. Thinks I’ll drag him down.”

“I know you will.” Those words came out as knowledge-tempered steel.

“That’s the trap, isn’t it, son?” Jimmy grinned crookedly. With one eye already closed and bloody, he looked demented. “We all have to pay for stuff that’s not our fault. And you and me, that’s what it’s about, right? I paid for your mother’s screw up and now you pay for mine. That’s family, that is.”

The nurse returned. “Time to go. We need to clean Mr Maddox up.” Dan didn’t think there was any way she could do that. Jimmy was filth that wouldn’t scrub off and Dan was the rat in his trap. It was a familiar feeling, caged in, no escape, no way to come out of this without injuring himself.

He stared Jimmy down. “Maybe I think family is different. Maybe I want to be different.”

“Oh you’re different. You’ve got your mother in you, but you’re mine too and you’ve spent most your life trying not to be. Did you think I didn’t know that? I’ll let you in on a little secret. You abandon me now and you’ll be just like me. How do you reckon you’ll like that, son?”

Dan didn’t get a chance to reply. The two officers were back outside the curtain and two kids would be growing up without their parents, courtesy of Jimmy Maddox.

50. Stall

Alex expected Dan to rage, to shout and hate and mark the territory of his pain and anger loudly and aggressively. Mitch said he might, told her to hold on. Said he’d calm down, that he wouldn’t hurt her no matter how angry he was. Mitch’s reassurance worried her more than facing Dan did.

She’d just seen his Uncle Max pick a fight with one of the police officers a third his age and twice his size, right in the middle of the waiting room, swearing and cussing, then taking a swing with a curled fist and being restrained. The other uncle, Fred, had sidled over while the scuffle went down and leered at her, making Scott ask if he had a problem.

And down the corridor lay Dan’s father, a drunk driver who’d killed two people and orphaned two kids.

If Dan raged it would be reasonable, and she wanted to be there for him. She knew he’d never lose himself enough to hurt her.

But he didn’t. Over the next week he withdrew, shut down, and she couldn’t seem to reach him, not with words, not with companionship, not with food or artificial distractions. The only response she could get out of him was physical. He held her too tight, he hugged her too long, he lost himself in her whenever he could, pouring his stress into his kisses and his agony into his love making. He unconsciously bruised her with his tension and his silence leaving her tender and confused.

He went to work, he went to the hospital, he met with lawyers, insurance brokers, and his uncles, and he said very little. He rehearsed with her and Scott and he was intense in his focus, but his ready humour was clouded over and his eyes were dull.

He wasn’t cold, but he chilled Alex with his indifference outside the bedroom and off the dance floor. He said he wanted her with him, but she felt oddly redundant, surplus to his needs in the face of his contained grief.

When Jeff came back, he reacted to the difference in his owner too. Instead of wanting to be close to Dan, he kept his distance. He avoided his usual under-the-table and under-the-bed spots; he stopped leaning on Dan, following him around, and resting his head on his knee. He just watched him, keeping him in his vision whenever possible. Dan didn’t notice.

Mitch said to give him space. Fluke said to get in his face. Alex spent more time at her own place and Dan didn’t complain.

When Gran asked her what was wrong, she said, “He’s shut down on me and I don’t know what to do.”

A fortnight after the accident with Jimmy now in a prison rehab hospital pending a court appearance, Alex acted. She couldn’t take Dan’s solitariness, his withdrawal any more.

They were in his kitchen, they’d just eaten a meal Alec cooked, and were washing up. She flicked suds at him and he reached for her, but she danced away.

“What are you doing?” he grinned, but it wasn’t in his eyes.

“Remember how Marjorie called us provocative?”

“So?”

“I’m trying to provoke you.”

“You don’t need to try. I’m perpetually provoked around you.” He reached for her again, but she jumped back.

“Good. I want you to talk.”

“About what?”

“About what’s in your head.”

Dan leant back against the sink, flipped the tea towel over his shoulder, and crossed his arms and his ankles. “You want me to put you to sleep.”

“No. Don’t be obtuse.”

“Smart word that, obtuse. Are you sure I know what it means?”

Alex shook her head. “Dan, you just said ‘perpetually’. You know what obtuse means.”

“No, seriously, Alex. You’re well-educated. I never finished school. That’s a big difference between us. What you want to be, graduate programs and career ladders, and what I can be, what I can give you, they’re worlds apart.”

She advanced on him, put her hands on his shoulders, studied his face for answers. “Where’s this coming from? I’m not asking you to give me anything.”

“You asked what I was thinking. This is what I’m thinking.”

“That the difference in our level of education is a problem?”

“Yeah.”

She ran her arms around his neck, but he didn’t uncross his so it was an awkward posture, his forearms bared across her ribs. “Ok, well. Park that. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“I know what you want to talk about.”

“So?”

Dan pushed off the sink, put his hands to Alex’s hips and set her away from him. “I don’t want you to have to hear about it. My fucking father. It’s just something I have to deal with. I don’t want you infected his stink.”

She couldn’t read the expression in Dan’s eyes, but there was no warmth, no kindness. He hadn’t raised his voice and he didn’t seem angry, just frustrated. She’d have been happier to have him yell than react with this measured reasonableness.

“Dan, I won’t drop you. I’m here for you.”

“The only way I can deal with this is just to get through it. I don’t want to talk about it too.”

“You’re closed off from me.”

He frowned and dropped his hands from her hips. “How can you say that?” Now they were standing almost toe to toe, not touching. Jeff left the room, head and tail down.

“Because the only time you’re all right is when we’re physically together.”

“I thought you liked that.” Dan dragged a hand through his hair and Alex ached to follow it with her own, but if she touched him now the conversation would be over. He’d silence her with kisses she couldn’t resist and the only language he’d have for her would be their private one, murmurs and gasps, groans and sighs.

BOOK: Grease Monkey Jive
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