by Linda Jaivin
The next morning, they deported this other bloke, Jameel, a Pakistani in his early thirties. Jameel and me used to play cards some nights, though like Azad and Hamid he didn’t gamble except with stones, cuz he was strict with religion, what was good for me cuz he usually won.
Jameel came from the border with Afghanistan. Opium was a big deal there, but he hated it cuz he could see what it was doing to people. So he informed on some opium growers to the police. Those particulate police turned out to be the cousins a the opium growers. Like Babak, Jameel told DIMIA they’d kill him if he was sent back. DIMIA didn’t buy it. They said even if it was true it wasn’t enough to make him a refugee. Jameel went quietly. We didn’t even know he was gone till we woke up and noticed his room was empty. The other Pakis in detention spoke to his family over there three days later. He was already dead.
Then there was Vesna, what had a husband back in Croatia what beat her up and tried to kill her. They said that wasn’t enough to make her a refugee neither so they deported her too. Even the church group what was helping her couldn’t track her down after she left. We never knew what happened to her.
It made me skin crawl. Villawood was full a ghosts. And after a string a deportations like that, everyone got even more depressed, thinking they be next.
Thanks God, for all intensive purposes I was outta there. Gubba, what was back from Noosa, told me he expected good news any day. He told me to hang on, just wait for a few more days. He was always telling me we hadda wait for this, hadda wait for that. I told him I don’t got the personality of a waiter. I is at least the Mater-D.
For the moment, but, I was nobody, nuffin—a nowhere man like the rest of them.
‘I hear you’re getting out soon.’ Farshid and Reza’s mum, Nassrin, was hanging out some laundry. Her face was a bit red on a count a the effort.
‘Fingers crossed. Wanna hand?’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I know I don’t have to.’ I shooed her aside, thinking how much me mum and Marlena would be impressed if they could see me. I picked up a wet sheet and slung it over the line.
Nassrin leaned back against a post, her hand over her stomach. ‘Thanks, Zeki.’ She brushed a strand a hair back over her ear. She used to dye her hair light brown and wear make-up every day what the visitors brung her. Lately she was letting things go.
‘No worries, mate,’ I said. ‘How’s Reza?’
‘I’m sick about him. He vasn’t always like this, you know. He vas a happy kid once. It’s all my fault…’
‘Don’t say that.’
She looked down at the ground for a minute. ‘If, God forbid, he’d managed to kill himself the other day, I vouldn’t have a single photograph to remember him by. On the boat over, there was a big storm. The vaves vere that high’—she lifted her hand high over her head—‘and then the boat started to leak. The captain told us we could only keep one bag per family, he told everyvun to throw their extra bags overboard. Ve thought ve were going to die. Of course, ve did what he said. Only after ve vere rescued, and put in detention, I realised that those bags had all our family photos. It’s like losing all your memories. And now…’ She wiped a tear.
The Shit House didn’t allow any cameras inside. They said it was to protect the privacy a the asylums, but everyone knew it was so no one could send photos a the shit that went down Inside to the media.
‘It’s like ve can’t even document who ve are,’ she said. ‘As if stealing our freedom vasn’t enough, they have to steal our identity too.’ Like Azad, Nassrin could always take the conversationals to a higher level. She used to teach history at uni in Iran but got into trouble all the time. First, she didn’t want to wear the veil. Then she thought her students should know about some books what the government didn’t think they should know about. Farshid had told me all about it.
‘Mate,’ I said. I lowered me voice and looked around to see if there was any blues in the vicinity. ‘After I get out, I’ll come back and smuggle in one a them plastic cameras what don’t get caught in the metal detectors.’
She looked like someone turned up her dimmer switch. ‘Only if it doesn’t get you into trouble.’
‘Trouble is me middle name, what I be in all the time.’
‘That vould be more than kind, Zeki.’
‘It is more than kind, mate. It’s a promise.’
Promises. I was making a lotta them. I promised Azad and Hamid and Thomas that I’d visit them every week after I got out, Angel too. I promised She Who Deserved Better that I was gonna get a proper job again, and look after her real good. I promised Gubba, what came to see me the other day, that I’d pay him every cent I owed him, even if I had to beg, borrow or steal to do it. I promised Mum, what was at the meeting with Gubba, that was only a trigger a speech, that I wasn’t actually gonna steal nuffin no more. And I promised me dad that I’d get me citizenship right away even if I had to stand in a fucken queue, except I didn’t use the word ‘fucken’—pardon me French—cuz even though he only got one hand on account a being in the Korean War, he could beat the shit outta me and would do it too if he heard me swearing. And I promised meself I’d never eat another meal a chicken and rice as long as I lived.
I dunno where Whacking Co got its chicken, but I swear they was like no chooks I ever ate before. Meat as grey as ciggie ash and what tasted like a poofter’s leather shorts after Mardi Gras. Not that I ever ate a poofter’s shorts or nuffin. The rice was like flecks a white cardboard what been lying round the tide line at the beach, gritty, salty and tasteless all at the same time.
Azad once told me this story. He was in Port Hedland with this African dude. The African was in Detention for four years before they twigged he was a real refugee and gave him a visa. In that time he’d gone fully nuts, loco cabana, but the people what was helping him, they didn’t know it yet. He was only Out two days when they asked him to speak at this dinner, one a them fundraisers. He stepped up to the mic and said, ‘Chicken and rice.’ He paused. He said it again, louder this time: ‘Chicken and rice!’ Everyone laughed, like he was gonna tell them a joke, like he was gonna turn out to be a Somalian Seinfeld or something. He stared them down. ‘Chicken and rice!’ he goes, raising his voice more each time. ‘CHICKEN and RICE!’ No one knew what to do. He just kept shouting ‘chicken and rice’ until he busted into tears and had to be led down from the stage and back to his seat. Now everyone was feeling real bad, and that’s when they served up the dinner. Chicken and rice. He ran screaming from the restaurant.
All I’m saying is I was looking forward to real food. Kebabs, pizza, Maccas. If it was gonna be chicken, it hadda be KFC.
Yeah. A real meal and a good root with me best girl. She Who Is Staunch When I Need a Staunch Woman.
I got a confession to make. Me and Ching—the Chinese chick, you know, Ching Chong Ping Pong—we’d been getting it on lately. Thing is, you gotta do something to keep the equipment in working order. It’s like a car—you can’t just leave it in the garage for months and months or you might not be able to get it started again when you need it. And Ching was cool. I told her all about Marlena. I didn’t want her falling in love with me or nuffin. Don’t laugh, it happens. I don’t wanna brag, but I’ve been told I’m a bit of a spud muffin in the sack. Ladies’ satisfaction guaranteed. It’s true. Funny-looking blokes are always better in the sack than good-looking ones. We aim to please and know we don’t always get the chance. And, mate, I can do things with me ears what most blokes can’t even do with their fingers.
Maaan. How was it that Marlena could make me feel so Guilty with a capital T when she didn’t even know what I been doing? The woman’s a witch, I swear.
The loudspeaker, what was right outside me window, hissed into life. ‘Zeki Togan, you have a visitor. Zeki Togan, you have a visitor.’
I looked at me watch what I reckoned was already well and truly me own watch by then. It was two o’clock. I wasn’t expectorating no one. She Who started her shift at four so it wa
s hardly worth her coming, and Mum wasn’t sposed to visit till the weekend. Maybe it was April. I spruced meself up, put a bit a gel in me hair, splashed on some Brut, gave me pits a spray and brushed off the Nikes.
Twenty-Six
Just as I made it through the double gate to the Visiting Yard, it pissed down. Everyone ran for the shelter, dragging bags and baskets and tables and chairs to the one place in the Yard with a roof. I ran too, me Nikes squelching in the mud.
It was hot and steamy under the shelter. The rain came slanting in at the sides. Within seconds, the shelter was packed. It smelled a sweat and wet clothes and stressation and food what be cooked in all different ways according to the different nationalities. Chairs scraped cross the concrete as everyone staked out territory. I was looking round for April when—fuck me. Pardon me French, but I swear me heart nearly jumped into me fucken mouth. There was Marlena and Mum—and they’d somehow landed at the same table as Ching.
Marlena plus Mum on a day when I wasn’t expectorating them already spelled Trouble, but them plus Ching was like Trouble to the Maximus, like Russell Crowe and them Roman emperors and tigers all together in one small room. When I said I made it clear to Ching about me relationship with Marlena, what I meant was, I tried to tell her. It’s just that I fudged one tiny part a the story. I said Marlena was me ex. I was planning on telling Ching the truth, I swear, but you gotta find the right time for these things. Each time I was about to do it, something always came up. Like me boy. She’s a minx, old Ching. She gets me boy going, that’s for sure. And I’m hopeless after that. When it’s over, I swear to meself I’ll tell her before it happens again. Then it just happens.
I wanted to turn and run back into the compound but they all spotted me at the same time. I took a deep breath. I greeted Mum and Marlena first. ‘It’s the dynamic duo.’ I kissed them both on the cheek. ‘Hey, Ching,’ I go, trying to sound real casual. ‘This is me mum and Marlena. Me girlfriend.’ I said the last word real deep and meaningful.
‘Oh really? Zeki’s girlfriend? Wow. Wow. Nice to meet you.’ Ching’s big black eyes fucken twinkled with mischief, I swear. She pulled out a pack a smokes and offered them to Mum and Marlena. Mum thinks cigarettes are the work a the devil. She waved her hands around like she was trying to shake them clear off her arms. Ching turned to Marlena then. Marlena never smokes in front a Mum, so she shook her head too. Ching shrugged, popped a cigarette in her own mouth and, one eyebrow cocked in that cheeky way a hers, asked for a light. I wasn’t playing that game. I know what she does when you put your hand that close to her face.
‘You know I don’t smoke,’ I lied. She could light her own cigarette.
She did. Then she placed a hand on Marlena’s arm, all girly and friendly. ‘So, you are Zeki’s girlfriend. I hear so much about you.’ Oh shit.
If Ching said anything I’d be stuffed like a porn star with three dildos.
Mum took out some a her famous pasties. I went a spinach and cheese one and ate it standing up.
‘Why don’t you find a seat, Zeki?’ Marlena suggested, but no way was I leaving her and Mum alone with that fox. I stood me ground and scoped for a chair, but everyone was holding on to the ones they got, even the empty ones, like they was life rafts instead of chairs. Ching flapped her hand at me. ‘Go find chair, Zeki, I talk to your mum and Marlena.’
I gave her an imploring look what said ‘be good’, what wasn’t in her vocabulary.
I bolted back out into the rain and spotted a chair what fell over in a puddle over by the playground. It had a dodgy leg and was filthy with mud but I wasn’t wasting time looking for another. Back under the shelter I took some serviettes from Mum, wiped the chair dry and sat down. It wasn’t like I was wearing me best threads. Soon, but. World, watch out. The Man was gonna be back any day now. It suddenly occurred to me how stupid I been. That’s why they was there. It was over. Mum and Marlena had come to pick me up and take me home. Fucken ace. I wanted to punch the air. Yes!
Just at this moment the rain cleared and the sun came out. Life was fucken beautiful, mate.
I was thinking how I was gonna be free and sleeping next to She Who Puts Me Right that very night. You know what it’s like when you got someone you can just be yourself around? Like I can fart in front a her and everything. She even farts back. What a woman.
I had to do something about Ching.
Now that the sun was out, other people dragged their chairs back into the Yard. Ching, what was a science student at uni before she overstayed her visa and knows a lot a weird shit, said it was like gas molecules clustering in the cold and then spreading out in the heat. Our table had a good view a the visitors’ gate. This Chinese guy came in the gate and next thing you know Ching jumped up, ran over and gave him—wait for it—a big fucken tongue kiss, pardon me French. Me eyeballs was hanging out like boys in the hood. Well excuse me for living! When I looked back, I thought I was busted cuz Marlena and Mum was looking at each other.
‘Wha? Wha?’ I opened me palms. They couldn’t prove nuffin.
Marlena stared down at the table. Mum put on a very special expression a hers that made me think a when she had to tell Dede that the doctor found the cancer in his goolies.
I didn’t think I wanted to hear whatever it was they was gonna tell me. I took another pastie and ate it fast.
‘Zeki.’ Mum had her serious voice on. This was getting worser and worser. Someone died or was in the nick. I could feel it. I was spinning out. ‘Marlena? You want to tell him?’
‘Zeki.’ Marlena bit her lip. ‘Gubba called. The Tribunal ruled on your case. You lost. They can deport you.’ Tears welled in her big eyes. One fat one plopped right out and landed on her cheek.
‘Oh, maaan, don’t start crying on me. You know I hate that. Anyway, what’re you talking about? They’re not gonna deport me. That’s stupid talk. Australia’s me home.’ That really turned on the taps. ‘You know I never even been over there except that time when they circumstanced me.’
‘Are you listening?’ Mum spoke to me in our language while handing Marlena a tissue.
‘Yeah. I heard it. Gubba says I lost.’ I thought about this for a moment. It didn’t feel real. I looked at their faces. Totally crustfallen, like that cake Marlena baked for me birthday what didn’t work cuz I slammed the door. All I could think was that I had to say something to make them feel better. ‘Fine. Doesn’t matter. Whatever. There’s always the appeal. She’ll be right.’
Marlena dropped her head on Mum’s shoulder and started wailing like a siren. How embarrassing was this?
Ching looked over Wing Wong’s shoulder. He had her pressed against one a the shelter’s columns like she was apricots and he was making paste. Her eyes went wide, and she made a face what said that she hoped the tears wasn’t on a count a her.
Women. I’m seriously considering coming back a poofter in me next life. Men have gotta be easier.
‘Zeki!’ Mum screwed up her mouth at me.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ I scraped me chair over to Marlena’s side, put me arms around her and pulled her towards me. She flopped onto me chest. ‘C’mon, babe,’ I cooed as I regained me balance. ‘It’s not that bad.’ I patted her back. Clarence was hanging round the shelter like a bad smell. He had a smirk on his ugly dial. I shot him the finger over Marlena’s head. ‘Babe, we’ll talk to Gubba. We’ll appeal.’
She Who Was Inconsultable picked up her sorry head and looked at Mum in a way what told me there was more bad news coming.
‘Gubba wants ten thousand. He won’t touch the appeal until we’ve paid up—and put another five thousand up front. He said when you lose at the AAT you have to appeal to Federal Court, and that’s even more expensive.’
I almost did it. Said muvvafucker! in front a Mum. I spluttered for a moment, trying to get me tongue under control. ‘The deal was I’d pay him off once I was out and working again.’
‘Well, he wants it now. All of it.’
I thought about this a moment. ‘Yo
u know why sharks don’t attack lawyers?’ I asked.
They looked at me like someone changed the channels on a program they was watching.
‘Professional courtesy.’
Mum managed a laugh. Marlena’s lip quivered.
‘I’m sorry. I have to go to work, Zek. Your mum’s gonna drop me off.’
‘Yeah, go, fine.’
‘You’ll be right?’
‘Yeah, yeah, go, go.’ I herded them out before Marlena could turn on the waterworks again.
‘Bye.’ They waved just before disappearing through the vault door.
‘Bye.’ That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t getting out. I was fucked. Up the proverbial without a paddle. Done like a dog’s dinner. It was fucken bullshit. It was wrong. What were they gonna do, come for me at four in the morning like they came for Babak, or Jameel? I was practically born in this country. I was that angry I could feel the steam coming outta me ears, I swear. I couldn’t think. Me palms were sweaty and me mouth was dry. I went over to the Coke machine and chucked some coins into the slot. I hit the button and nuffin came out. I punched the button to get me money back. Zip. Zilch. It was the last straw, what is a met-oh-four for nuffin left to drink through. I swung me leg back and kicked that fucken Coke machine as hard as I fucken could—and you don’t gotta pardon me fucken French. I meant it.
Part Two
One
It was like the opposite a that warning they stick on the side mirrors a cars. Objects in the mirror may be further away than they appear. Ten minutes earlier, I coulda touched that world where you go to work, walk down the street, have things to do, people to see. All that now seemed very far away, like it be China or something, except China didn’t seem that far away in here, with all them Chinese.