The Saulie Bird

by Eliza Quancy

  ‘Hello,’ I say to him but it’s a weary greeting. Saulie Bird cocks his head and hops towards me. Looks quite sprightly despite his bad leg. ‘How are you this morning?’ Already he’s seen enough of me and hops back. Doesn’t even croak. But I like him. I’ve grown fond of him and wonder how he’s managed to survive with his injury. His eye is always bright and he seems like an omen of hope in a depressing world. My friend the crow.

  Since I last talked to Kandin, I’ve seen him again and nothing has changed. Even if we could have afforded it and had no problems with passports, the problem of Joel and Jenn is what is becoming ever more urgent, not pie-in-the-sky projects like going to Oxford. There is a feud developing between Kandin and Joel and it doesn’t look set to end well. It was Joel who first introduced me to Kandin and I realise now that the police must have been turning a blind eye to his activities, but I’m not sure why. I never asked. I was more concerned with getting a passport and getting to safety. Everything worked fine except for having to leave Jenn behind. And that was Joel’s fault and perhaps a little bit mine, too, for not being careful to keep my activities with Kandin a secret.

  I can think of plenty of reasons why Joel doesn’t want Jenn to come here, but his recent change of attitude can only be because of what Kandin has been doing or saying. Either it’s the drugs or it’s because Joel now knows that Kandin and I are seeing each other. Surely Joel must have known that already or guessed. But now Joel has cut me off from my daughter and it’s driving me crazy. What has Kandin said to him? I wish I knew. I don’t trust Kandin these days. Don’t know what he’s doing or what exactly his plans are.

  Maybe Joel wants Jenn to grow up in PNG and that’s understandable. I do, too, but I can’t live there and I miss her and Joel must understand that. He always said that he did and that he would bring her to me. I haven’t spoken to him since he let me escape from Scarface. I’ve tried ringing him but he won’t pick up. I texted to thank him but once again there was no reply. I can’t say much in case Kandin reads it and I don’t want him to know that I’m trying to talk to Joel. I think I’ll try emailing to see if I can arrange to speak to him. I need to talk to Joel privately, but I need to be careful how I organise it. Mustn’t forget that Kandin is a hacker. And that he’s got his eye on both me and on Joel.

  The first problem is how to keep my emails private. I can’t use Layla’s account because Kandin will be monitoring hers for sure. I could set up an alternative email address but Kandin is an excellent hacker and is probably monitoring all my online activities. I could ask Faisal, my work colleague if I could use his email. At this thought, my brain lights up. Yes, yes, yes. This is a possible solution. I’m sure I haven’t mentioned Faisal to Kandin. Not even to Layla. He’s one of the kitchen hands at work and he fancies me. Has asked twice if I would go for a drink with him before work.

  ‘Thought you weren’t supposed to drink,’ I said when he asked.

  ‘I meant coffee,’ he replied. ‘You’re right. I don’t drink alcohol.’

  Twice I’ve said no. Two illegals together. Disaster. He comes from Bangladesh. Don’t know how he got here because we never have the opportunity to talk not even in breaks. There’s always someone around and it’s understood that we keep quiet about our pasts. We all pretend to have lives that are perfectly fine and none of us says much. There’s no-one else I could ask, but Faisal might say yes. Most of the other illegals are from Syria. Occasionally Iran and one guy from Eritrea. That’s counting all the ones I know in both Layla’s restaurant and mine and not only the ones who are here now but the ones who have already ‘passed through’. We’re the only females. And Layla is the only old one. Some of them call her aunty but she doesn’t mind. They mean it nicely.

  Yes, Faisal might do it. I’m going to ask him but when I get to work, he’s not there. Patience, I tell myself as I rinse food off plates and stick them into the dishwasher, clean the floor, check the pans, empty the dishwasher, hang the pans on the wall - in the correct places - stack the hot plates in cupboards, on and on. It’s noisy in the kitchen. There are always food mixers whirring, steam gushing, fat frying. Worst of all is the noise from the coffee grinder. It’s sporadic, deafening and it shakes fit to explode.

  After the place closes, I go into the public area and start cleaning in there. Another normal night. Occasionally, I’ve been given a uniform and asked to wait tables, but that’s only when Glenn (the manager) is desperate. Normally, he keeps the ‘extra’ staff well out of sight. Layla says it’s more or less the same where she works. I’ve only been into her place once. It looks posher than the one where I work.

  I’ve grown to like my new look with super short hair dyed blonde. I think I look more like an African and less like a PNG woman with my hair cut like this (although I feel a bit guilty about that - I’m proud of being PNG). Glenn was pleased when he saw the new hair cut but that was because of hygiene. He’s always going on about keeping hair tied back and the danger of people dying because of a hair dropping on to a plate or into food. What he’s bothered about are customers complaining or an inspector dropping in and finding, horror of horrors, a hair. As I’ve said, my hair was quite big before. Glenn was always moaning about it. I was given a strange white hat to wear but my hair would still manage to bounce out here and there. Always full of bounce.

  I notice that men look at me more since Layla cut it like this. My head is more or less shaved. It just goes to show that the soft feminine look I had before doesn’t seem to do it for them as much as the hard, clear profile. I suppose it’s a hard look altogether. Elegant I hope, but definitely hard. What I like best is the contrast between the colour of my skin and the bright blonde hair. It makes my skin look darker and I like it.

  I’ve changed my earrings, too. I used to wear (fake) pearl clusters or fish (especially green fish) in my ears but now I’ve swapped to large gold hoops. Sometimes small gold hoops depending on my mood, but almost always hoops. One of the people who likes my new look is Kandin. He hasn’t said much but I can tell. And I bet one of the people who wouldn’t like it would be Joel. He would think that I didn’t look feminine enough. If I can get Faisal to let me use his email, I’ll send Joel a selfie. I bet I’m right. We’ll see.

  Funny, how the little things like hair-cuts and earrings get mixed up with the big things like getting Jenn back and working out how to get in touch with Joel and warn him about Kandin. That’s what I’m thinking about while I am unloading the dishwasher about halfway through the shift when Faisal walks in. Hallelujah (see how Saul persists). I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow night but here is Faisal now. I straighten up and give him a quick smile before turning back to my plate stacking duties. Before the night is over, I manage to arrange to meet him for a coffee tomorrow before work. Sevenish. He looks pleased.

  Every morning if she’s not doing housework or going out to meet Carol, Layla studies and at first, I used to read, too. Books are expensive here if you get them from bookshops and I don’t like reading online (my laptop’s too big and my phone is too small), but the thrift shops have got a treasure trove. There’s a Vincent de Paul near here and they’ve got loads of good stuff, clothes too. Recently, however, I’ve gone back to old habits. I’ve started drawing again. I drew a lot in Keroko and now I’m doing it again. For me, it’s like meditation. Better. I’d like to get a decent drawing of Saulie Bird, but he never hangs around long enough. I’ve got half a sketchbook full of Sauly bird attempts. I’ll get him sooner or later.

  ‘Why don’t you take a photo and draw from that?’ Layla asks me and I suppose I might have to do that eventually, but the image in the head is better somehow if you can keep it long enough to throw the lines on to the paper. I’m getting obsessed with the bird, but I don’t tell Layla what my crow is called. Another thing I haven’t told her is what Kandin is threatening to do to Joel.

  I can trust Layla absolutely (which is weird when you think that it’s Layla who always tells me not to trust anyone) but I thin
k I’ll be burdening her if I confide my fears over Joel. No, that’s bullshit. The reason I don’t tell her is because I don’t want her to think badly of Kandin. Or at least I don’t want her to think any worse of him than she does already because I fear she might refuse to let him help us. We’re going to need help with our passports soon and there’s no-one else we can ask. I had an argument recently with Kandin when I accused him of having no principles.

  ‘You are completely immoral,’ I yelled at him, ‘you’re just a pragmatist.’

  ‘So are you!’ he replied calmly.

  I’m beginning to think that he’s right about me, but I wish he wasn’t.

  ***

  Layla is surprised that I’m leaving early for work and I tell her I’ve got a date at which information she looks even more surprised. She knows me. If I were interested in somebody, I would have said so. Well, maybe not in so many words but she would have known. I see her notice that I haven’t even bothered to do my nails. I’ve got some black varnish. Well, it’s dark red really, almost black. Sweet as. But I’m saving it. It’s expensive.

  Faisal is already there when I arrive and I do like him. I mean I like what I know of him which isn’t much. But Layla is right. I don’t fancy him. We sit with the coffees and he offers to buy me a cake but I refuse. I know how hard it is to earn money and I’m sure he needs his as much as I need mine. Almost certainly he needs his more because I’ve got a house. Yes, I am a pragmatist. Kandin is right. I don’t like him anymore, but I haven’t offered to give back the house and I’m still planning to get his help for the passports. It was easy in the first place because I liked him a lot. It’s taken a long time to realise how dangerous he is. And unpleasant. I’ve been a fool.

  ‘Are you married?’ Faisal asks me, and I almost laugh. At least he’s direct and he’s wasting no time in getting things established.

  ‘No,’ I reply. ‘Are you?’

  ‘I was,’ he says and in answer to the look on my face. ‘She died.’

  I don’t ask him about her, but I understand why he’s told me. He’s trying to give our relationship an honest foundation and he is honouring his wife. I find myself hoping that we’ll become friends. Proper friends, not lovers but there’s not much time so I need to ask him for what I want.

  ‘I need your help,’ I tell him and see his face close down. There’s an immediate withdrawal of the beginnings of our friendship.

  ‘What kind of help?’ he asks.

  ‘I need to get in touch with someone in my country,’ I tell him, ‘and I’m being watched. Can I use your email to send him a message.’

  ‘Who’s watching you?’ he asks. ‘Is it the police?’

  ‘No,’ I assure him. ‘I promise you, Faisal. It’s not the police.’

  ‘What will the message be?’ he asks.

  ‘I want this person to ring me,’ I say and hesitate. ‘He’s a friend and I urgently need to speak to him. But I can’t ask him to ring my phone. That’s being watched, too. At least I think it is.’

  ‘Go on,’ he says.

  ‘Do you have Whatsapp or Skype?’

  ‘Whatsapp,’ he says. ‘Skype is not worth having. No end-to-end encryption.’

  ‘Skype’s changing,’ I tell him because I’ve looked it up, ‘or it’s changed already. It does have end-to-end encryption now.’ Faisal shrugs and I smile at him. Whatsapp is fine. He might be right. It might be better. Why do I always have to argue about everything? ‘Could I arrange the call for a prework time like now and ask my friend to ring me on your Whatsapp account?’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Faisal says. He looks anxious and disappointed. He knows I don’t fancy him. He’s sensitive. He knows why I wanted to meet him and that it was only for this.

  ‘I do like you,’ I tell him. ‘And you’re right. I don’t want sex or a romantic relationship. But I do hope we can be friends.’

  I see him relax a little. He doesn’t smile but he regards me with a gentler gaze.

  ‘Thank you for that,’ he says. ‘I’ll let you know about the other thing.’

  Faisal says nothing that first night nor the next one but on the third night, he tells me that he’ll help me and we arrange to meet again as before.

  33

  It’s time I went to see Kandin. I haven’t seen him for nearly two weeks. I start feeling edgy when I don’t hear from him because I don’t know what he’s doing and I don’t trust him.

  My plan to get in touch with Joel has worked and I’ve spoken to him twice. Faisal was there both times and has heard everything, but I’ve managed to warn Joel that Kandin is planning to kill him. It is true that both Kandin and I are pragmatists, but we are not the same. I can’t quite believe that Kandin is contemplating murder as though it were no more important than winning a game of cards. To begin with, it seemed almost like a joke but slowly the truth of how Kandin is and the way he will behave sinks in and shocks me. On the other hand, it is clear that Joel is not shocked. He takes the information calmly and seriously.

  When we manage to talk, I tell Joel that I still want Jenn back.

  ‘She’s safer here,’ he says.

  ‘How can that be?’ I ask. ‘If you’re in such danger.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he says. ‘I’m in the police, remember.’ As he says this, I see Faisal almost rip the phone out of my hands, but he doesn’t. ‘Jenn’s safe in the village,’ Joel goes on. ‘She’s happy, Auli.’

  ‘She must miss me,’ I almost wail.

  ‘No,’ Joel says. ‘We don’t talk about you. She’s fine.’

  It’s time to go. I tell Joel I’ll let him know if I get any more details and warn him that I’m going to have to come back to PNG. I have to try and get Jenn in order to keep Kandin calm. If I don’t agree to that, Kandin will know that I’ve been in touch. Joel says he understands and tells me not to worry.

  After the phone call, I try to smile and behave normally but I can’t manage it.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Faisal says. ‘I’m your friend remember.’ So I tell him. I sit there and tell him much more than I had planned to let out and he listens with kindness. Doesn’t offer any suggestions. There aren’t any, but he listens and I appreciate that.

  ***

  And now it’s Wednesday. I’ve got a day off. The first in a fortnight and I’m going to see Kandin. He’s picking me up to take me out for a meal and then we’re going back to his place. I haven’t told Layla what’s been going on but she has observed my ‘dates’ and my face. She knows that Kandin is coming to take me out tonight.

  ‘What,’ she says, half teasing me, ’no nail varnish for Kandin either. He is falling out of favour.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I say although the truth is that I very much want to do my nails for Kandin. He always notices how I look. I can feel his eyes on me appreciating me and I like it. So I almost desperately want my nails to be dark red and glinty for Kandin but manage to stop myself because I knew Layla would notice. What does it matter, I ask myself and can’t answer that question. Apart from my naked hands, I’m looking quite glam. He buzzes and I grin at Layla as I go out.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I ask as we take off. He’s got a new car. It’s black with silver wheels and a roll-down top that’s rolled up. A two-seater sports car, but we can’t go fast. This is Melbourne. 60 kph at the moment and soon we’ll be down to 40 when we hit the inner city. When he stops the car and I see where we’ve arrived, my heart sinks.

  ‘Come on, Auli,’ he says. ‘Or is it Lani?’ (Lani is what the people at work call me.) Kandin takes me to the diner where I’ve been meeting Faisal. ‘Thought we’d try somewhere different,’ he says.

  We go in and he leads me to the table where I usually sit with Faisal.

  ‘I know what you want,’ he says with one of his special Kandin smiles and goes off to order a coffee for me but nothing else and a plate of pommes frites, an avocado salad and a beer for himself. ‘How are you?’ he asks. ‘Haven’t seen you for a while.’


  ‘You’ve been spying on me.’

  Kandin nods.

  ‘You’ve no right.’

  Kandin smiles.

  ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do?’ I ask him. Aha, I’ve got him this time. A look of annoyance flashes across his face but is gone as fast as it appeared.

  ‘Of course not,’ he replies with the familiar drawl. ‘You’re my whole life, Auli. I fill it up with you.’

  What I’m trying to work out now is how much Kandin knows and how he’s going to use the information. Does he think I’m dating someone he doesn’t know about? Or does he know that I’ve been contacting Joel? I’ll have to try and find out.

  ‘What’s he like then? Faisal?’

  ‘Very nice,’ I reply.

  ‘OK in bed?’ he asks.

  ‘Sweet as,’ I reply. I still don’t know what kind of game Kandin is playing. I’m going to have to wait. I can see that he’s waiting for me to react. To tell him more. To get angry but I pick up my coffee and slowly sip. I’m getting to be as good at this as he is.

  For the rest of the evening, we talk about Chrissie. Apparently, she’s visiting and wanted to stay but Kandin refused.

  ‘I thought she could do no wrong,’ I say. ‘Why don’t you want her at your place?’

  ‘Because she would be in the way,’ he replies. ‘At times like tonight when I’m taking you home.’