wonder if I will get to grow old, with kids and grandkids and a garden. I wonder if I will even see the next day.
Seven
Yelling. A woman’s voice. It echoed through the silence, finding us when we were still in our beds. Half asleep, I pulled on some clothes.
‘Stay here,’ I said to Max.
‘Yeah right,’ he said with sarcasm.
We walked up the hill toward the noise. Starvos was standing in the doorway of his shop. The woman was throwing her arms up.
‘You can’t close! You have all that food in there! You can’t!’
‘I can do what I want,’ Starvos said.
The woman saw me. ‘He’s closing!’ she said, as if she expected me to do something about it. ‘He’s keeping it all for himself.’ She turned back to Starvos. ‘First you rip us off and now this. You selfish bastard!’
‘It’s my stock! I can do what I want with it.’ He stepped behind the glass door and tried to push it shut as the woman blocked it with her foot. He flung open the door and shoved her away, stumbling back she slipped on the ice, falling on her side. ‘You stupid bitch! Get off my property!’
‘Oi!’ I jogged over.
Starvos glared at me, jutted his chin out. ‘Fin, you stay out of this. This is my business.’
‘You can’t do that,’ I said.
‘Watch me.’ He closed the door in my face.
I went to the woman on the ground, took her arm and tried to help her up. ‘Are you okay?’
She turned her face to me, eyes red with tears. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said, hitting me away. ‘You could have helped me get in there. Thanks for nothing.’
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘Useless.’ She got to her feet and I watched her trudge away with a limp.
Max stood there, his mouth hanging open. ‘Starvos totally pushed that lady! I can’t believe he did that!’
I turned him away, my hand on his shoulder. ‘Come on. Let’s just get home. We’ve got stuff to figure out.’
Max sat on the kitchen bench with a pen and an exercise book on his lap. I stood in front of the open pantry cupboard, pulled each item out one by one, named it and put it on the bench: two cans of baked beans, one kilo of rice, one sachet of burrito seasoning, half a packet of almonds, almost-empty jar of Vegemite, almost-empty jar of honey, and on and on until everything had been listed. We then sat down at the dining table and worked out how much food we would eat each day and how long what we had was going to last us. Two weeks, at the most.
In the evening, after Max was already asleep, Lokey came back. He wandered into the living room and slumped on the couch.
‘I had to get out, man. My mum is driving me freakin’ nuts.’ He tilted his head back, closed his eyes.
‘You drove here?’
‘Yeah. Got chains on the tyres. Nearly outta petrol, but it’s not like I need to go anywhere. Your dad hasn’t shown up?’
‘No.’
‘He’s probably okay, the roads are just blocked.’
‘I’m trying not to think about it.’
We sat in silence. Eventually Lokey opened his eyes, yawned. ‘You got any cards?’ Lokey’s eyes roamed the room, his gaze landing on Dad’s liquor cabinet. ‘Actually, I got a better idea.’
The idea of numbness was appealing. The thought had crossed my mind before but I hadn’t wanted to get wasted on my own. It felt kind of pathetic. And desperate.
‘We can have a bit, Loke. Not heaps. If my dad ever comes back he’ll kill me.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
Dad collected booze like some people collected stamps – he would get all excited over a rare vintage. All I was thinking about when I selected the oldest, most expensive-looking bottle that I could find – and the bottle after that, and the bottle after that – was how he’d chosen to go after Kara that night and left us behind.
Eight
I drew Lucy. I drew her sitting cross-legged on the roof of our school bus while floodwaters rose around it. All sorts of objects bobbed on top of the water: toasters, television sets, computer monitors. I know they would have
Seven
Yelling. A woman’s voice. It echoed through the silence, finding us when we were still in our beds. Half asleep, I pulled on some clothes.
‘Stay here,’ I said to Max.
‘Yeah right,’ he said with sarcasm.
We walked up the hill toward the noise. Starvos was standing in the doorway of his shop. The woman was throwing her arms up.
‘You can’t close! You have all that food in there! You can’t!’
‘I can do what I want,’ Starvos said.
The woman saw me. ‘He’s closing!’ she said, as if she expected me to do something about it. ‘He’s keeping it all for himself.’ She turned back to Starvos. ‘First you rip us off and now this. You selfish bastard!’
‘It’s my stock! I can do what I want with it.’ He stepped behind the glass door and tried to push it shut as the woman blocked it with her foot. He flung open the door and shoved her away, stumbling back she slipped on the ice, falling on her side. ‘You stupid bitch! Get off my property!’
‘Oi!’ I jogged over.
Starvos glared at me, jutted his chin out. ‘Fin, you stay out of this. This is my business.’
‘You can’t do that,’ I said.
‘Watch me.’ He closed the door in my face.
I went to the woman on the ground, took her arm and tried to help her up. ‘Are you okay?’
She turned her face to me, eyes red with tears. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said, hitting me away. ‘You could have helped me get in there. Thanks for nothing.’
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘Useless.’ She got to her feet and I watched her trudge away with a limp.
Max stood there, his mouth hanging open. ‘Starvos totally pushed that lady! I can’t believe he did that!’
I turned him away, my hand on his shoulder. ‘Come on. Let’s just get home. We’ve got stuff to figure out.’
Max sat on the kitchen bench with a pen and an exercise book on his lap. I stood in front of the open pantry cupboard, pulled each item out one by one, named it and put it on the bench: two cans of baked beans, one kilo of rice, one sachet of burrito seasoning, half a packet of almonds, almost-empty jar of Vegemite, almost-empty jar of honey, and on and on until everything had been listed. We then sat down at the dining table and worked out how much food we would eat each day and how long what we had was going to last us. Two weeks, at the most.
In the evening, after Max was already asleep, Lokey came back. He wandered into the living room and slumped on the couch.
‘I had to get out, man. My mum is driving me freakin’ nuts.’ He tilted his head back, closed his eyes.
‘You drove here?’
‘Yeah. Got chains on the tyres. Nearly outta petrol, but it’s not like I need to go anywhere. Your dad hasn’t shown up?’
‘No.’
‘He’s probably okay, the roads are just blocked.’
‘I’m trying not to think about it.’
We sat in silence. Eventually Lokey opened his eyes, yawned. ‘You got any cards?’ Lokey’s eyes roamed the room, his gaze landing on Dad’s liquor cabinet. ‘Actually, I got a better idea.’
The idea of numbness was appealing. The thought had crossed my mind before but I hadn’t wanted to get wasted on my own. It felt kind of pathetic. And desperate.
‘We can have a bit, Loke. Not heaps. If my dad ever comes back he’ll kill me.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
Dad collected booze like some people collected stamps – he would get all excited over a rare vintage. All I was thinking about when I selected the oldest, most expensive-looking bottle that I could find – and the bottle after that, and the bottle after that – was how he’d chosen to go after Kara that night and left us behind.
Eight
I drew Lucy. I drew her sitting cross-legged on the roof of our school bus while floodwaters rose around it. All sorts of objects bobbed on top of the water: toasters, television sets, computer monitors. I know they would have
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