The Crush (13 page)

Inmates and their visitors looked up from their huddled conversations as a howl echoed through the mess hall.

‘My boy's going to be a big-shot footy star!'

‘
Dad
,' Matt said, pleased but embarrassed at his old man's outburst.

‘Can't a bloke be proud of his son? You're gonna be set for life now, aren't ya?'

‘I hope so.'

‘The Doggies, huh? Not as good as the Dragons, but they'll do.'

‘It's all rumours at the moment—'

‘Yeah, but leaked from a team insider, mate. That's almost a sure bet. And the scouts aren't watching your games for the fun of it, are they?'

His dad howled again until one of guards barked his name. The leash pulled, his old man huddled forward and asked, ‘So what did your mother say when you told her?'

Matt shifted in his chair. ‘She doesn't know yet. We're not speaking to each other.'

‘She found out about me, did she?'

He nodded.

He'd stayed up half the night at Grandma Ryan's, fighting with his mother. She'd followed him to Balmain and demanded that he return home with her. Matt refused.

‘No! I can't live with you any more.'

‘Don't be stupid. Grab your gear. We're leaving.'

‘Didn't you hear me? I'm staying with my grandmother.'

‘You come with me or I'll call the cops.'

‘
You'll
call the cops?' his grandmother said. ‘I'll call the cops if you don't leave my property in the next sixty seconds.'

‘You can't do this. He's my son. It's kidnapping!'

‘And he's my grandson. Now you know how I've felt for fifteen years!'

The door slammed in his mum's face and after a while the pounding stopped. Matt fumed inside the townhouse before guilt started nagging too loudly in
his ear. Reluctantly, he chased after her and braked when he saw her sobbing alone in a bus shelter. He walked slowly towards her but the bus beat him. She left crying.

His dad huffed. ‘Sounds like Heather hasn't changed a bit.'

His old man had, though. Since their last encounter, the paleness had lifted from his face. Gone were the dull eyes, wrinkles and heavy spirit. Replacing them were lively brown eyes, a relaxed face and an eagerness to talk. It was almost as if he had lost ten years.

‘Speaking of women, you got yourself a bit of flesh yet?'

Matt flushed red.

His old man grinned wolfishly. ‘Ya do, don't you, ya dog? What's her name?'

‘Er …'

‘C'mon. Don't play shy. It's not like I can steal her away from ya.'

‘Kelly. Her name's Kelly.'

‘Kelly, huh? Sounds sexy. Got a mug shot of her?'

‘Nah, she's a bit coy about that sort of thing.'

‘She a looker?'

‘Oh yeah.'

‘She good in the sack?'

Matt blushed again. ‘I don't know yet. We kind of just got together.'

‘You don't know yet? What are you waiting for, mate? Birds only get all sentimental on you if you wait too long. And whatever you do, don't fall in love with them. They'll own you for the rest of your life, right?'

Timidly, Matt nodded. He wondered if his dad had felt the same way about his mum.

‘Boy I wish I could be your age again,' his old man added. ‘All those girls were just asking for a bit of action, you know. And I was more than keen to give it to them. Who wouldn't? Man, that's what I miss the most being locked up in here. The chicks. Imagine what fourteen years looking at nothing but hairy blokes is like and you'll start to realise how depressing this place is.'

Matt laughed nervously. He felt bad about Kelly but he didn't want his dad to think that he was a loser. The truth was he'd never even been kissed let alone had a girlfriend. Unlike Blackwell, Matt would love Kelly every day and never hurt her if she was his girlfriend. But she wasn't and he'd spun a shameful lie like he did when his teammates bragged in the change rooms about their own ‘conquests'.

‘How bad is this place?' Matt asked, avoiding any more talk about girls.

His old man snorted and rocked back on his chair. His eyes shot around the room, like he was sizing up any challengers. Then, seeing he was safe, he leaned forward and whispered closely. ‘Ya don't want to know, mate. And you'll never understand it anyway.'

‘Tell me. Please.'

His old man rubbed his collar then sighed, ‘Okay. Think about it this way: the second you're driven through the front gates, your life ends. Every day you're either showering with dozens of guys forever eyeing you off or listening to the screws cracking jokes as they carry out their tenth strip-search. I have to eat what they give me and I have to eat when they tell me to. If the other inmates decide they hate the look of ya, then they'll either prey on you or won't let you sit with them during meals. That causes problems because the screws force you to sit next to them. I spend twenty-three hours in a cell smaller than most bathrooms with nothing to do but read books and listen to the radio. Once a day I'm allowed to exercise in a concrete yard with dozens of other inmates. One time we had a football but some idiot kicked it onto the razor wire. The guy ended up in intensive care for three weeks.

‘I don't have any friends left in the outside world and the only person that cares I exist is your grandmother. The clothes you see on me are all second-hand, right down to my undies. My salary is less than you spend at McDonald's each week, and that only buys me a can of Milo. I'm always scared of being raped in this place as well as catching blood diseases like AIDS or hepatitis. And if ya mess with the screws too much, they set their goon squad onto you; big blokes all dressed in black clothes and masks who come into your cell and beat you up until you're nearly dead. How's that sound for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, for fourteen years? Like fun?'

Matt was dumbfounded. ‘But …'

‘Don't even try to comprehend it, mate. Ya can't. It'll just send you insane. I know it does me. The only way I avoid going completely mad is by dreaming of getting out of here. I want my own house with plenty of windows and doors that
I
can open. It'll be this great big property in the middle of nowhere. It would have a river too, so as I could go fishing with my boy.'

Matt grinned. That sounded great.

A commotion in the centre of the room attracted their attention. Guards ran towards a young guy
French-kissing his girlfriend across the table. The screws grabbed and separated them. Kicking and wailing, the girl started shouting about her rights as more guards arrived. One squeezed open the boyfriend's jaw while a second stuck long fingers down his throat. The inmate started coughing until he spat out a small balloon of heroin. Everyone gawked at it silently before the screw named Lewis seized it and barked at his fellow heavies.

‘Strip search them both and make them squat and cough,' Lewis ordered. ‘I want to know if she brought in any more surprises.'

The girl started screaming as she and her boyfriend were dragged away. Once they were gone, the whispered conversations resumed as though nothing had happened.

‘Stupid junkies,' his dad said, watching them leave. ‘They try the same trick all the time. The girlfriend smuggles it in, she kisses her boyfriend, they swap the drugs via their mouths and the guards catch them doing it.'

‘What'll happen to her?'

‘She'll go to court and probably end up in a women's prison. Most of them do.' Turning back to Matt, he pointed. ‘You aren't on drugs, are ya?'

‘No. Never.'

‘Good. I'll kill you if you do. I don't want any son of mine a worthless junkie or dopehead.'

Uneasiness buzzed in Matt's chest. He didn't dare tell his dad about the ecstasy planted in his locker. It had been hard enough telling Kelly, who'd phoned him shortly after hearing the gossip. She didn't believe the allegations either. That meant a lot to him.

Instead, Matt played it safe with his dad. He asked a question that had been taunting him all week. ‘I was wondering if you could tell me about, y'know, how you got in here?'

Arms folded on the table, his dad hung his head, gave a sad little laugh then drew a deep breath. ‘Okay. I guess you have a right to know.'

Breathing in, his old man summoned up the memories, then blew out the first few words. ‘After you were born, Heather and me moved into my parents' garage. It was cold and damp and smelt of petrol. The only furniture we had was a fold-out bed, a couple of chairs, a coffee table and a cardboard box we used as a TV stand, right?

‘I got a casual job at a fruit and vegetable shop, stacking cauliflower, serving customers, ordering stock. Ya know, that kind of thing. It was an easy job but I wasn't keen on it. I'd always wanted to be an
airport mechanic. The pay was bad too, but I didn't have much choice, eh? I had a girlfriend and a baby son to look after.

‘Things weren't too flash between me and your mum. We were never in love. We just met at a party, I scored and I thought that would be the end of it. I never expected she'd get pregnant. Anyways, one night, I came home after a shocker of a day. A customer had accused me of ripping her off. She complained to my boss and tried to get me fired. The boss warned me that I had one last chance before he sacked me. I told him not to bother and I resigned.

‘Your mum went crazy when she found out, eh? We got into a major fight that went on for hours. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I jumped into my car and headed for the pub. I just wanted to get smashed. I got smashed all right. This idiot in a red Mazda rams straight into me and the next thing I know I'm in hospital. Without a job there was no way I could pay our food bills let alone any medical ones.

‘Heather and me fought even more after that. It was always about money. She had to work as a checkout chick and I had to go on the dole. I kept looking for work but all I got was knock-backs.

‘I bumped into a couple of my school mates
outside a TAB shortly after that. We were from a pretty rough mob and forever in trouble. My mates heard that I was short of cash and wanted to know if I was interested in making some easy money. I said I was in.

‘That “easy money” was a break and enter at a hotel on the central coast. Two of us raided the safe while the other two loaded up the back of the car with enough grog to give a footy team a headache. We netted about two grand all up. That translated to about five hundred bucks each. Forget about selling fruit and vegetables, right. I'd just found a faster way of making cash.

‘We hit a couple of chemists and TABs after that. Nothing big. Just enough to keep us happy and the pigs in jobs. Ya mum started getting suspicious about where all the money was coming from, so I told her I'd got a job as a fitter and turner down in Cronulla. She didn't believe me of course, but at least we could pay the bills.

‘About two months later, my mates got nicked by a couple of rent-a-cops. They'd been caught breaking into a hot-shot lawyer's place on the north shore. Funnily enough, it was the only time I'd bailed on them. I was at the hospital with you after you'd started convulsing. You had a fever or some such
thing. The doctors fixed you up before me and your mum took ya home.

‘That's where the cops were waiting for me. My so-called mates had turned dog on me and told them about all our hits. Good thing I saw the red and blue lights in the distance, eh? I dropped you and your mum off on a corner and said I'd left my wallet back at the hospital. I bolted right there and then.

‘I was a fugitive after that. I headed to Queensland. Without any money, I got desperate. I held up several service stations along the way. That was so stupid. It only left a trail for the pigs to track me down. They found out I was holed up in a rented caravan and raided the place. Except they got the numbers mixed up and arrested some joker three doors down from mine.

‘I learnt from that mistake. Things had to be planned. I met up with an old bank robber named Earl ‘Spinner' McKay, who had served seven years in the slammer. He taught me everything I needed to know. Poor old Earl. Died a couple of years back. Probably paying for his sins right now.

‘Anyway, after that I was fired up to knock over my first bank. I staked out one up at Surfers. It wasn't flash but it had the cash. I had everything planned, from walking into the bank to ditching the
getaway cars. All I had to do was go inside and become a rich man.

‘Wouldn't ya know it. I'd forgotten one thing—my balaclava. And there was no way I was going to waltz in there with all the cameras spying on me. Running out of time, I spotted a toy store down the road. In the front window was this black mask with a laughing skull on the front of it, right? It looked stupid, but it would do the job. So I grabbed some kid off the street and paid him a couple of bucks to buy it for me. I didn't want the bird behind the counter describing me to the cops later.

‘I pulled on the mask, walked into the bank, disarmed the guards then grabbed the money thank-you-very-much. No one moved or said anything. It was kind of spooky. But I loved it. It was a pure adrenaline rush, eh? I was in complete control. Best thing was I walked out of there with ten thousand bucks. Beer money compared to what I'd steal in the following months.' He grinned at the memories, but saw Matt's concern and lowered his voice again.

‘It must have been a slow news day because I ended up on every television screen and in every newspaper. Some hack came up with the name Laughing Skull Bandit and it instantly stuck. I liked it too. I felt like Captain Moonlight or Mad Dog Morgan.

‘I laid low for two weeks before hitting two banks in a row in Brisbane. While the Ds were busy checking out my first job, I was robbing a second. Ha-ha. Boy, did they like me. I made the front page the next day and became an instant celebrity. Everyone was talking about me on the radio as I drove back towards Sydney.