Tim Winton - Eyrie

Hey, Kai, said Keely as sunnily as he could manage. How about you set up a game for us?

The Scrabble’s at yours.

Well, here’s the key.

He’s not goin anywhere, said Gemma. He’s not leavin this flat.

Well, maybe we could step outside?

She shook her head.

The balcony?

She sucked in a chestful of smoke, raked her hair angrily, got to her feet. Keely grabbed the TV remote and cranked up the sound. There was cricket, soccer, a fat-person show. Judge Judy would have to do. He turned to Kai.

Mate, I think there’s still some icecream in the freezer. Get yourself a big bowl, much as you like. Here, I’ll do it for you.

He dragged out the tub and scooped icecream into an inviting mound. Put the bowl in the boy’s unsteady hands. Kai glanced at it, then looked to his grandmother. She nodded, tried a washed-out smile of reassurance but it didn’t carry.

We’ll just have a chat out there, your nan and me. We’ll be right here.

The boy blinked and chewed his lip. Keely followed Gemma out onto the sun-blasted balcony and slid the glass door to. They stood at the rail in the roar of traffic and cooling stacks. The broiling updraughts tugged at his hair, his shirt.

Tell me, he said.

She pulled hard on the fag, squinting in the gritty wind. Her tanktop was soaked with sweat. She wiped her face on the hem and sighed.

First of all, what’s the knife about?

He wants five grand, she said.

Who wants five grand? Five grand for what?

The car.

This is the father? He called you?

Didn’t even have the guts to show up himself. Sent some filthy-faced prick around to do it for him.

Just now?

Christ, I shouldn’t have even opened the door — I thought it was you. How bloody stupid is that? Before you come along I had it together. I wouldn’t have just opened the door like an airhead, would I?

So it’s my fault?

What? Have I hurt your feelings ? she said scornfully.

Gemma, just tell me. Someone was here. Who was here?

Christ, I dunno. Stewie’s dopey little ferret. I can’t remember his name. They’ve found out where we are. Fuck, I told the Welfare this was too close, I said it in court, I begged em. The judge, the cops, the suits — no one listened. I’m just another dumb bitch with a junkie daughter, what would I know?

But it’s supposed to be secure here, he said. There’s a swipe card.

People follow you through the lobby every day, Tom — wake up.

And he’s come to the door? Here?

And like a dill I’ve left the chain off and his foot’s in the door and the little shit’s up in my face, pushin me back inside.

Did he touch you?

Of course he fuckin touched me — what are you, dense or somethin?

And where was Kai?

Right there. At the table.

He saw all this?

Saw enough.

Shit.

He’s just standin there, this little turd, grindin his teeth, stinkin the kitchen up. They want money. Otherwise they’ll fuck us up.

What is this, television? What does that even mean?

Gemma ditched the fag, didn’t look at him. You were a woman, she said, you’d know what it means.

Okay, he said, chastened.

You never seen a meth-head off his chops?

He shrugged.

He says his piece and then he’s just hangin there, givin off the fuck-yous, like sayin nothin for a bit, thinkin he’s standin still. But he’s fidgetin, bouncin like — I dunno, like a boxer. Eyes on him like he’s not even human anymore. And then he looks out the window, out here. And I could see it straight away. I’m thinkin, Look here, you little shit, look at this, think of me, not him, not Kai.

Oh, Gemma, this is insane.

Cause you could see the little shit — the idea arrivin in his head. You know — Kai, the balcony. He’s smilin. Like it’s brilliant. His big idea to get me to pay. And he sees me knowin it, you know, watchin it sink in. And it’s like he’s just won Lotto. All’s he had to do was look out the fuckin window and we both knew.

And Kai?

Jesus, I dunno. But he knows what trouble smells like.

Gem, this is just bravado, it has to be. Kai’s father isn’t going to have someone kill his own child.

You know what Stewie calls him? Gump. The retard. The girly-boy.

But he’s not going to kill him.

You still wanna know what he said to me the other day?

Not sure I do.

Said all he needed was five minutes, said he’d been thinkin about it for years, even when he was with Carly.

Five minutes, said Keely.

To fuck me in the arse so hard I’d cough up shit for a fortnight.

Oh, God help us, he said aloud, holding hard to the rail. Dear God. Please.

You think he won’t kill his kid? Maybe you’re right. Maybe his little mate just thinks it’s funny to dangle a boy by the ankles, ten floors up. Like that’d be a hoot. Wouldn’t that rock, eh? she said, kicking the blighted geranium across the balcony. Wouldn’t that be a fuckin scream?

The pot glanced off his shin. Keely staggered back, sat on the milk crate by the door, felt something crack under his weight — a scorched saucer whose service as an ashtray was at an end.

Gem, this is serious, he said, pulling the shards from under him, rubbing his leg. We should go to the police. Right now, this minute.

I can’t.

You have to report it.

Tommy, I just. Can’t.

This is bad. This is scary.

You think I’m not scared? You think I’m just stupid?

What’d he look like, this bloke?

What does it matter what he looks like?

Please. Just tell me.

Small, orright? Black hair. Somethin gold in his teeth. Anyway, I’ve seen him before.

So you can tell the cops.

No.

Just say what happened.

Oh, Jesus.

C’mon! Just call them.

Tommy, Jesus!

Keely thought of the thug getting out of the lift. He’d missed it all by a minute. And if he’d been there in time what could he have done? Really, how would he deal with somebody like that?

Shitheads, she said bitterly. He tried to hug her but she jabbed him away.

This is all about the car?

I spose. Sort of.

Gemma, that thing’s worth about five hundred bucks if you’re lucky.

I know that. You know that. Probably even they know that, the fuckin drug-addled idiots. But now I’ve made it worth something, haven’t I, like a fool. I’ve called him, AVO and all, and I’ve gone around there thinkin I’m real smart, like they’ll reckon you’re a cop or a lawyer or some bullshit, and all he’s seen is I’ve got a new bloke and I’m in a nice dress and he thinks, Right, she’s got money. He needs money, he’s got ugly debts. And now they’ve found where we are.

How does this happen ?

What’re you talkin about?

The authorities, the DOCS people, the courts — don’t they make sure the kid’s somewhere safe and private?

Dream on.

Could these guys have followed you home?

Or you.

Me?

Stewie knows what you look like.

Right, he thought. Terrific.

And I’ve got the car parked down there, obvious as you like. What a blockhead. For a stupid little car. What a brilliant idea that was.

Well, you had a right, he said lamely.

I can keep the car — that’s what he said. But I need to pay up. Five thousand bucks, she said with a hopeless laugh.

When?

I told em I needed a week.

Do you have it?

What d’you think?

If you did it wouldn’t be the end of it anyway.

I know that.

Keely glanced back and saw Kai still standing with the bowl on the other side of the glass. He wasn’t eating; it didn’t look as if he’d even taken hold of the spoon.

Well, he said. There’s a week, then. At least there’s that.