by Simon King
Tanya returned a few moments later, a short dumpy-looking man following her. He was wearing a grin that beamed as bright as the sunshine streaming in through the window, obviously happy to win over my business.
When I stepped back out onto the footpath ten minutes later, I had opened both a chequing account and a savings account, as well as having a book of 50 cheques on order. The cheques would take a few days to arrive but I was happy to wait, offering to pick them up the following week. After a ferociously enthusiastic handshake, the bank manager allowed me to leave with an even 10 Pound in my pocket.
I returned back to the boarding house where the old man was still puffing away, this time stepping through the gate and shaking his hand. He introduced himself as Irvin Baker, the owner of the building and after struggling from his rocker, beckoned me through the front door.
8.
It took 3 days for me to find the bitch that had insulted my mum all those years before. There was a total of 12 listings for Toomey in the phone book, 3 of which lived right there in Kensington. 2 had the initial M before them and when I saw them, wondered whether the phone would be in her name. Maybe it was listed under her mother’s name, or even her maiden name. What if she had reverted back to that after she moved back home?
Despite having all the time in the world, I felt rushed. Aside from feeling Loui needing to release some of his built-up rage, I didn’t want to lose my opportunity because she suddenly dropped dead from old age. I wanted to exact my revenge on her before that happened, hence my hurry.
Turns out old Mavis lived at the second address I visited. It was so simple to confirm as well. I simply dropped by a local newsagency, purchased a number of newspapers, then knocked on doors selling phoney subscriptions.
I nearly pissed my pants as I sold her neighbours a weekly subscription, having doorknocked them to affirm my ruse. When she finally opened her door, there was no recognition in those dreary eyes. She looked old, so very old. I rattled off my spiel and was surprised as she politely declined. There were no other sounds in the home and I wondered whether she lived there alone.
I’d half expected her to slam the door in my face, remembering a cold and stony-faced woman who didn’t take shit from anyone. But the years had stolen her fight, her stone wall knocked down, leaving a frail woman that struggled to move. I could see the pain in her eyes as she stood listening to me, and part of me felt a little sorry for her.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said as she slowly closed the door again, but Loui suddenly came forward, almost lunging into the forefront of my mind. “See you soon, bitch,” he growled before returning to his previous hideout.
9.
After returning to my room on the second floor of the boarding house, I dropped onto the bed and reconsidered my reasons for seeking the old battle-ax out. Eddie offered his own thoughts on the matter, but Loui cut him off mid-sentence, railroading him out of the way.
“I don’t care how old she is now. It just makes it easier to punch her timecard.” Loui always found the right words to say, not bothering to dress shit up. He wanted her dead for what she said and it didn’t matter how helpless she was.
“But she’s old now. It’s not like she’s enjoying her twilight years. Did you see the way she struggled with the door? Her arthritic fingers? Let her be,” Eddie tried to offer, but Loui refused.
“Her time is up. You hear me, pipsqueak? Up.” Eddie surrendered, returning to his previous spot. Loui did likewise, the pair of them shuffling off into opposite corners, leaving me to consider the finer details of Loui’s intentions.
10.
I decided to appease Loui the day after my cheque book arrived at the bank. He’d been hounding me for a more specific time when he could finally slaughter the old bag and I’d been trying to delay him. But I knew the longer I stalled, the harder he would become to live with. Things were already hard enough with trying to shut him up while reading a book.
I promised myself to remain indoors until the time came to act. Meals were included in my rent and everyone else kept mostly to themselves. I found it peaceful just sitting in the room, not a single soul to bother me. But Loui refused to settle until I promised him a time.
When I dropped back into the bank the day after I’d been promised its arrival, I found the cheque book waiting for me. I picked it up with very little fanfare, a voice quietly whispering at me from the shadows.
“Tomorrow. You said the day after and that’s tomorrow. Tomorrow she dies.” He always had a way of telling things in a way that there was very little room for objections. If I said tomorrow, then tomorrow it would be.
11.
I packed my bag and prepared for that night’s adventure as Loui half-skipped around my mind. He was excited to finally get to play a little. He reminded me of a puppy that had been held up in a room for a week and was preparing to be let out for the first time. He wanted to play, his own special game.
Once night had fallen and the crowds began to dwindle out on the footpath, I headed out, every now and then feeling a slight push in my legs, no doubt Loui trying to hurry me along. At one point, Eddie tried to talk reason again, hoping for Loui to concede.
But it seemed that I knew Loui a little better, knowing full well that there was no way he would ever give up an opportunity to exact revenge, even if the initial betrayal had been nothing more than a scornful remark. He didn’t care, the insult as severe as if the bitch had spat in my mother’s face.
As if defeated, Eddie gave up a couple of blocks from our destination, appearing to sulk as he returned to his spot in my mind. Loui and I continued on towards his latest playground. The adrenaline surges continued to shoot into me and I knew he was starting to get more and more excited. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d begun to froth at the mouth like some hungry beast. The sensation did feel very similar.
12.
The house looked completely dark when we rounded the corner. There were no street lamps at this end, the nearest light coming from the windows of a house 3 doors down. Old Mavis lived in a quaint cottage, 4 houses from the intersection. Her home had a waist-high fence and I easily stepped over it as opposed to opening the gate the way I had on my previous visit. It had squealed on its hinges then and I didn’t want her alerted to our presence.
Instead of walking up to the front door, I headed straight to the side of the house. I didn’t bother looking around for onlookers. I knew that if I looked out of place, people would notice. But acting as if I belonged drew no attention, not even to the man walking his dog on the other side of the road.
As I walked down between the high wooden fence and the house, I tried to listen for any sounds. Looking up, I found the 2 windows that sat on this side both closed and the curtains drawn. It seemed that old Mavis was a stickler for standard routines. That was fine by me. It probably meant she was snuggled up in bed after kneeling down beside it and giving thanks for the day.
I stepped out into the half-moon light and looked at the back door. There were 2 windows on this side of it, both with drawn curtains. I could make out a very faint light penetrating one of the windows and wondered whether she’d occupied a back bedroom instead of the front one that most houses had.
I crept right up to the door and pushed my ear against the timber, holding my breath to somehow increase the sensitivity of my hearing. I could hear a car drive past along the road, a dog barking somewhere behind me, but other than that, silence. The only constant was the cricket chirping away somewhere in the grass behind me. If anybody was inside this home, they would either be reading or fast asleep. I was hoping for the latter.
“Let’s get this done,” Loui suddenly hooted and I jumped a little, nearly falling down the single step. I agreed with him and slowly reached for the door handle, the beating in my chest picking up speed as the excitement finally gripped me.
13.
Whatever had happened that day back at the farm, happened again. I blacked out. Although this time it wasn’t a
nywhere near as long. One minute I was slowly reaching for the door handle of Mavis Toomey’s back door, the next I was standing in the middle of her bedroom staring down at her corpse.
She’d died. I don’t know how or when, but she was dead. When I came to, I was standing beside her bed, looking down at an old face I barely recognized. She looked asleep except I knew she was gone. There was no movement from her; no breathing; no occasional shifting. She was just dead.
Loui began screaming in my brain, loud enough to hurt my eyeballs. He was pissed, pissed enough to reach down and try and grab the old woman. But I pulled him back just enough to try and settle him. He wanted to destroy this woman and his chance had been stolen away from him.
I reached down and tried to feel for a pulse. When I felt nothing, I squeezed her nostrils shut, waiting to see if she would start gasping. Part of me hoped she’d only pretended to be dead, maybe hearing us creeping around her home. But she didn’t move, not a single twitch after holding her airways shut for a full 2 minutes. She was dead. The bitch had managed to evade us, dying before Loui could work his magic.
14.
After scouring the rest of the home for any signs of life, I thought it best to get out of there. There was no-one else and so figured there was no point in hanging around. Loui was hugely disappointed and if I didn’t get him back to the boarding house, was sure he would choose some random victim whom to inflict his rage on.
I took a final look in Mavis’s room, seeing her lying in her bed, the blanket pulled up under her chin. She was lying on her back and could have been sleeping, off on another dreamtime adventure. But for Mavis Toomey, there would be no more dreams. She’d managed to live out her final days in her family home, eluding Loui by less than a single day.
Chapter 7
1.
I didn’t want to stay in Melbourne. Not then, not ever again. I sent Darren a letter and asked him whether he’d mind keeping an eye on the old home for me. I slipped a few pounds into the envelope for him, then mailed it the very next morning.
From the post office, I headed straight to Flinders Street Station, purchasing a ticket to Sydney that very day. The train ride wasn’t one of my favorite journeys on record, opting for a seat instead of a sleeper. I wanted to try and conserve money as much as possible. I had plenty, but wanted it to last.
Sydney turned out to be just as boring as Melbourne, not holding much interest for me. And so, I decided to travel a little further, taking a chance and exploring more of the world.
2.
8 years, James. That’s how long I was gone for. That’s how many years I was able to keep Loui away from Cider Hill and the shitstorm he wanted to unleash on the town. I know what you’re wondering. Fuck me, I can read you like a book. Did I kill anyone? Did I hurt anyone during my travels?
In a word, yes. I did. More than once. But that story isn’t for this book, my friend. Those souls need telling, but not at this time. Right now, I need you to understand everything that happened with that disgusting town, the horrendous people that chose to isolate and torment a little kid and what that kid did to avenge himself.
3.
I returned to Cider Hill in the summer of 32. Were you already a cop by then? It had been a long time and although Darren had done a great job of looking after the place, it needed quite a bit of work to restore.
Rats had found their way inside and had built several nests around the place. A branch from one of the gums had crashed through into one of the upstairs bedrooms and there were also a few floor boards that had rotted away. Other than that, the house seemed OK. Once I finished the repairs, it would prove to serve me well.
4.
I spent the first few months after my return jus getting back into the swing of country life. Loui had promised to tone down his demands as long as we at least returned to Cider Hill. It seemed that as long as I took him nearer to the town, he would be content to wait until the proper time came.
There came a day where I felt the need to revisit some old friends. I grabbed my hat and walked out behind my house towards the creek. Halfway there, I looked around the clearing, spotted the broken-down cart and scanned the ground a few feet away.
It didn’t take me long to spot 2 rectangular depressions. Although the undergrowth had all but swallowed both graves up and hidden them from anyone walking past, I could still see them enough to know. As I neared them, I heard distant voices over the next hill. I figured it was at Bill Higgins’s place, if he still owned his farm.
I stopped just before the depressions and looked down at the grass growing in them. I knew that their bodies would be nothing more than bones by then, but hoped their spirits were still down there somewhere, forced to lie in their tombs for all eternity.
Hey Pop, Royce,” I said, dipping my hat a little. “I’m back. Just wanted to see how you 2 were doing. See you’ve managed to push up some weeds.” I smiled a little, remembering Royce’s smashed-in face as I threw the first handfuls of dirt on him. “Here, let me help you guys with that.”
I stepped forward another step, undid the buttons on my pants and pulled them down a little. Although I only had a little bit of stumpy flesh down there, it felt good to aim it at the remains of the 2 fuckers that made my childhood such a living nightmare.
As the urine began to flow and patter down on the grass, I swung my hips slowly from side to side, as if dousing a fire. I wanted to make sure they each received their share, the grass dripping in a long arc before me.
When I finished squeezing the last few drops out, I pulled my pants back up and retightened them. I then looked down at each of the graves, hawked up a humungous piece of phlegm and spat it out where my father’s head was resting a few feet beneath.
“Chew on that, Cunt.” And that was the final time I visited that spot of my property. That visit had served as both my welcome back and goodbye. They were now not only dead in real life, but also in my heart, none of their deeds remaining in my soul. For me, that was the final piece of closure I needed. To confirm they were still there and for me to say goodbye. Behind me, the voices continued in the distance.
5.
I can’t remember how long after I returned to where the bodies were buried that I went for a walk along the creek, but I know that it was a moment that really stuck with me. Because that was the day, I met a friend. A friend who would stick by my side for many years to come.
The reason we had such a “meeting of the minds” upon our first interaction was because little Clancy found me in a very “vulnerable” position. If it hadn’t been for him coming across me right at that moment, we may have never met and his story would have read very differently.
But fate and what-ifs aren’t really part of my normal repertoire. Shit happens, that’s it. There are no excuses, no reasons, shit just happens and you deal with it. As it so happened, a dog had gotten itself stuck in a downed tree. It must have torn itself loose and dragged its rope behind it as it ran along the creek, eventually getting itself caught. The end of the rope tangled in some of the branches of this fallen Gum and that’s where I found him.
He wasn’t desperate to get free. There was plenty of fresh water right beside it, but I doubt he’d eaten for the time he spent tangled in that tree. I found him sleeping beside the main trunk, a black and white border collie. He was a beautiful animal and his tail began wagging almost the second he spied me standing on the creek’s bank above him.
By the time I carefully navigated my way down to the creek bed, he was up on his feet, excitedly bouncing this way and that, his tail furiously fanning from side to side. He gave a little growl of excitement and when I held my hand out, the fingers were drenched in his saliva in seconds.
He was happy to see me, no doubt that he was looking at his saviour and ready to return home the second I released him. I looked at the rope and saw that the end was knotted, repeatedly wound round and round between the branches that were stuck into the creek bed like long protruding fingers.
“You OK, boy?” I whispered as I lifted the rope a little, looking to pull it free. He barked a little, the tail continuing to fan from side to side. That was when another voice interrupted, speaking with a hunger that I knew would need satisfying.
“Let me have him. If I have to keep waiting, let me have him at least.” It was Loui, sounding famished. I knew that he’d been desperate to feed his own hunger, but I kept delaying his ferocity as much as possible. If I was going to continue denying him his urges then I would have to give him something else.
“But he’s just a pup. Not him,” Eddie whispered from somewhere yonder.
“Shut the hell up, pipsqueak. You don’t even know this mutt. And I need to feed. I’m starving. Harry. I need this. Don’t make me take it.” I knew what he meant, the threat both sincere and real.
I looked down at the dog, his excited eyes staring at me as he tried to see whether I would let him go. The tail continued to wag, picking up speed as I slowly knelt down beside him.
“What do you say, pooch. Ready to lend a hand for poor uncle Loui?” He paused as I cradled his face between my hands. Fingers lightly scratching the sides of his head. His eyes were still smiling, tongue excitedly trying to lap at me as I neared my face closer to him. His tongue slapped the tip of my nose, the warm wet slobber clinging to it. He lapped again, trying to bathe me in dog slobber.
“Thank you,” Loui suddenly growled, the fingers yanking the head to the ground as my own face knelt down so fast. The dog had no chance to react. I felt it tense briefly, then freeze, trying to anticipate what was happening. But Loui made short work of him, sinking our teeth into the dog’s throat with refined ease.
There was a brief struggle, but the instant warmth that filled my mouth tasted so sweet and divine that there was no chance he was going to wrestle himself free. Loui could barely contain himself, continuing to bite and tear and swallow as more and more blood gushed out from the open throat. The dog kicked out a couple more times, but I could feel him begin to relax, giving up as he succumbed to the monster now taking him into the shadows.