Bitin' Back

by Vivienne Cleven

  ‘Whenever you like. Jerry’s at training this week for the big game against the Rammers—Speaking of the game, Mavis, how come Nevil’s not at training?’ She turns her attention to me.

  I glare up at her. ‘Busy. He’s busy whit other portant things at the moment.’

  ‘I’m sure he is. Anyway, George Spiros thinks Jerry’ll make man of the match. Being the best player in Mandamooka he’s sure to take it out.’ Her voice is smooth as treacle.

  ‘Dunno bout that, Dotty. Nev’ll be there, you betcha. If anybody gonna take it out it’ll be my Nevil. Everybody in town knows me Nev’s the best player.’ I throw Terry a back-me-up look. He stands there n looks at each of us in turn as if decidin whose side to take.

  ‘What do you think, Terry?’ Dotty sidles up close to him.

  ‘I think both fellas are pretty good players. Hard to say really. I mean, they’re both playing for the Blackouts, so we already got the best players on our side. One thing I’ll say bout Jerry is that the boy can run, that’s for sure.’ Terry’s eyes flick away from mine.

  You shit! You ... you ... backstabber! Take her side, woncha! Jerry couldn’t play whit himself! Run? Run, huh, the boy couldn’t catch a fucken cold!

  I feel me stomach rumble and me hands start to shake as I watch the both of em look at me, waitin for me reply. ‘Good luck to him,’ I say, me arms outstretched, face calm.

  I figure this change a attitude will put Dotty off, make her realise I’m not gonna take any bait she throws my way—til she says, ‘Do hope he’s going to wear the team colours and not a frock,’ n takes one small step back.

  ‘Well, Dotty, if that’s the way your son dresses then that’s not my problem. Instead a blamin me Nev why don’t you talk to Jerry. He’s your son. Don’t turn that story onto me, Dotty!’ I burst out, blood rushin up to me face. There, take that!

  ‘You’re a lunatic, Mavis Dooley! Shit, everyone knows Nevil’s over there getting around in a dress! You’re the one with the problem!’ She shakes her head n looks at me like I want her pity.

  ‘A drunk, that’s all you are!’ I shout into her gloatin face.

  ‘Come on, ladies. That’s enough. Can’t see what good it’ll do the boys to have you pair spreading yarns bout em. Imagine if the Rammers got wind a that!’ Terry motions for me to sit down and leads an annoyed Dotty to the other side of the room.

  When he returns he gives me a strange look and says, ‘I can’t make out what the hell’s wrong with you pair. Like youse just won’t give up. No good telling the town shit about both them boys. Sure to ruin everything.’

  He sits down beside me. ‘Anything I can do?’

  ‘Why’d you do that, take her side?’ I ask, swallowin the lump in me throat.

  ‘I didn’t take no one’s side, Mavis. This has got to stop. I just don’t know who’s worse, you or her. It ain’t rightly got anything to do with me. Whatever’s goin with you pair is your business. I don’t wanna be brought into it, Mavis.’ He puts his hand under his stubbly chin n gazes at me.

  ‘You’re a sucker, Terry. I seen the way you connin up to her. Yeah, Terry, you a real big timer, eh.’ I stare at the wooden table, a sour taste in me mouth.

  ‘Come on, Mave. Just having a bit a fun is all.’ He tries a bright smile on me.

  ‘Didn’t look like that to me,’ I say, jumpin to me feet n haulin me handbag off the table. I stride outta the hall, hearin low laughter as I pass.

  All the way home I rage to meself. Each step I take seems leaden, like me legs are gonna knot up completely. That Dotty friggin bitch! Gee, fancy him gettin up n runnin over to her like that! Leavin me sittin there like a bag a garbage. To think I really liked Terry. Well, I thought he liked me. But oh no, seems ol Mavis Dooley ain’t good nough for him. A woman should a asked him if he thinkin he some white fella now. That Dotty, a woman’ll have to pull that big-titted bitch into line. Goin round tellin people bout my Nev! Geez, she got a hide n a half on her!

  Gwen Hinch places the hot, steaming cup of coffee in front of me alongside a plate of Tim Tams.

  I look round at the cobwebbed cafe walls n see several oil paintings—all country scenes, I note with disgust. Most of em painted by cocky’s wives livin outta town. I wonder why nobody paints anythin else—a dog, a cat, a packet a Tim Tams, anythin part from all those depressin reds, browns n greens. I let the thoughts go as Gwen approaches me whit a cup of coffee in one hand and a fag in the other. ‘How you been keeping, Mave?’ She puts the coffee down then pulls out a chair.

  ‘Not too bad, Gwen. Yerself?’ I scan her face.

  ‘Struggling on, Mave. Always bloody struggling,’ she says, reachin over to the other table behind her n grabbin hold of an ashtray. ‘I saw young Gracie Marley yesterdee. She come in for a packet of coffin nails. Had a bruiser and a half on her. Somebody sure went to town on her. Her and Nevil had a fight?’ Gwen taps the side of her cup with her long fingernails as she gazes at me.

  For bout a second I have a think on her question and decide which way I’ll answer: lie or truth. Finally I make up me mind. ‘Don’t rightly know. It definitely weren’t Nevil, he no woman basher. He knows better. I catch him bashin women, I likely to bash him back.’

  Gwen nods her head and wears a look that says: ‘On that one I’ll believe you.’ I watch the way her eyes flicker round at the cafe. She seems quieter than usual; not her loud, happy, kick-anybody’s-arse self. Even her hair looks messed up like she’d not bothered to comb it. She’s wearin a white, sweatstained n beetroot-splattered dress that’s tight to her body like gladwrap round a sandwich.

  ‘Gwen, everythin all right?’ I quiz.

  I pick up a Tim Tam and I’m just bout to bite into it when she says: ‘Ahhh, I dunno, Mave. Guess I’m jus sick a workin here is all. Sorta day in, day out. Nuthin changes.—Have ya ever had a dream, Mave?’ she blurts out, her green eyes fever bright.

  ‘A dream? Well, um, whaddya mean?’ I scan her face, wonderin if she’s full a turps, if again she’s come to work half-charged up.

  ‘Just a dream, like you wish for somethin good to happen. Somethin you always wanted.’ She sighs, her lips turned down.

  ‘Oh yeah, I getcha. Well, sometimes I wish I coulda done somethin like gone right through school then got meself some fancy job somewhere. But now, all I dream for is that Nev gets outta this town one day n gets a good job, ya know, somethin decent n then gets a nice wife n I’ll have a coupla grankids. That’s all I ask for. Ain’t worth dreamin when you a ol scrapper like me. Nah, Gwenny, I done walked me dirt track.’ I laugh, scrapin the chocolate off the Tim Tam whit me teeth.

  ‘Eh, look out. Mave, ya only ... forty-four?’ She taps the cigarette packet n gawks at me like I gone in the head or somethin.

  ‘I feel eighty-three. I dunno, Gwenny, it’s like when you had a hard life yer not game nough to wish for too much. Like you know if somethin good happens to ya then ya sorta get ready for the bad stuff that’s bound to come next. But yer a good lookin woman, Gwenny. You can do whatever ya like.’ I watch the way she picks at her fingernails.

  ‘If ya got money ya can do anythin. Sometimes like I think to meself why’d I ever come to Mandamooka. Onehorse town out here in the fucken bush. Nothin here for no one. Town’s fulla stickybeaks, old people and horny ol white bastards that wanna fuck ya every chance they get. N some fellas thinkin us black sheilas always ready to open our legs to the first cock we see!’ She laughs, but I see the way her face clouds over.

  ‘I reckon ya mean Darryl—Darryl Kane, doncha?’ I pick up another biscuit knowin I’ll need all the strength I can get soon as that man’s name is mentioned.

  ‘Yeah, guess he’s one a them.’ She shakes her head whit a look of disgust.

  ‘He spreadin yarns again?’ I narrow me eyes.

  ‘Yep, Booty’s new woman heard him over at the Two Dogs tellin everbody how good black pussy is. And all the other stuff he’s sayin bout me.’ She gives me a weak grin.

  ‘Jeesus! Where’s that wife a
his? What’s her name?’ I choke down the Tim Tam.

  ‘Samantha. She’s too stupid. Anyway, she don’t believe what anybody tellin her. I mean, it all happened when she was away. Gee, a person’s stupid, Mave. Fancy fallin for all that bullshit stuff he tole me.’ She drops her head lookin shamejob face.

  ‘He’s like that though, smooth as cream on top a milk. Bet yer you not the only one to be sucked in by him. Gee, fancy goin bout sayin em things boutcha!’ I bust a seam, feelin angry n sad for her at the same time.

  ‘I just wish I could get outta this stinkin town. What can a person do, eh? No money n can’t work nowhere decent cos all I know is how to work a bloody till. I’m stuck here. Cursed to live here all my life and put up whit this shit goes on behind my back. I tell ya, Mave, I’m fed up whit it all,’ she moans, eyeballin at the salt-shaker.

  ‘Come on, Gwenny, don’t worry bout it so much. You’re a pretty woman n can do better than that piece a shit. We all make mistakes. Ain’t your fault if’n the bastard sucked ya in. You wouldn’t be the only one he had an affair whit.’ I tighten me lips. Why don’t this girl jus tell the dirty bastard off.

  ‘It’s Big Boy I worry bout. He gets wind a all this he’ll do Darryl right over. That much I do know. But how can you stop somebody from yarnin behind ya back, eh?’ She lights up a fag n shoves it in her mouth.

  I shrug me shoulders. ‘They been talkin bout me for years. Cos see, there’s gonna come a day when good ol Mavis Dooley’s gonna pull at the bit. Like whit that big tits Dotty. I’ll get back at her! Had years to learn her dirty little tricks.’ I pick up the last Tim Tam n shove it in me gob.

  ‘Now that you mention it, it was only the other day I heard Dotty tell someone that Nevil’s queer, n when the Blackouts find out the truth they gonna smash his fancy arse. Now, whatcha think the ol bat meant by that?’ Gwen gives me a certain look.

  ‘It’s all lies, Gwenny. Dotty jus got the shits cos I won the five hundred dollar jackpot. Yep, cos it weren’t her takin home the dough. Plus she’s pissed off bout Nev floggin into Jerry. It’s like a woman done killed her mother or somethin whit the way she carryin on bout me n Nev. Like she jelly of me boy, eh.’

  ‘Bloody womba, ain’t she? I mean, gee, there must be somethin bitin at her. Ain’t normal, actin like that. Maybe you’re right, she’s jealous of you n Terry? Who’d fucken know. Anyway, where’s the Nev? Haven’t seen him for ages. He still on for the game?’

  ‘Sure is. Oh he’s been havin some problems whit hisself. Sorta like when a woman gets her period n don’t wanna go out. He’ll be ready for the game. But Gwen, I can’t see Dotty bein jelly bout me n Terry. He sniffin round her like a mongrel dog on heat. The prick! Hangin off the woman’s mini skirt like he some liddle kid chasin his mamma. Oh, well, ain’t no skin off my nose.’ I say, feelin sorta sick in me guts. Too many Tim Tams.

  ‘Don’t worry bout it, Mave. The day’ll come when Dotty gets her just desserts. Wouldn’ya think Terry’d have a bit a decent bein the woman’s married n all. But let me tell ya, Terry do have a lot a time for ya, Mave. It’s just he needs a little bit a convincin is all.’ She flashes a smile then gets to her feet.

  ‘Yeah, we’ll see bout that. Anyway, Gwen, where is Big Boy at?’

  She clears the table. ‘Gone over to see the Nev.’

  ‘He has?’ I jump to me feet, almost knockin me cup onto the floor. ‘I’ll see ya later. Be down tamarra, okay.’

  I rush out the door like me arse is on fire n half-run, half-walk home, hopin n prayin that Nevil’s not wearin make-up n a dress. I don’t like me chances so when I get to the corner I take full flight n pelt down the street fast as my varicosed legs’ll carry me. Oh God. Oh fuckery!

  Puffin n gaspin for air I stand at me front gate, lookin at the house with dread. By this time I be reckonin that Big Boy’s already pulled Nevil’s head off n broken his arms n legs into the bargain. Trevor—well, he’s dead meat no matter which way ya cut it. One look a those sandals n all hell’s bound to happen. Big Boy will suss him right off the mark. Yep, Mandamooka ain’t a town for any big city, big timin fella. Let lone a fella denies he’s gay, when ya only have to take a gawk at him to know what’s what. Nevil—well, he just along for the ride. Yep, that’s his problem, too easy on listenin to other fellas n they mad ideas. Wonder if Big Boy’ll listen to me. Maybe it’s already too late.

  Strapped n weak from sprintin down the road I push open the gate, feelin ready to spew Tim Tams all over the place. Suddenly a familiar voice stops me in me tracks.

  ‘Drugs. It’s drugs, Mavis!’ Missus Warby pokes her head over the fence, wavin me towards her, the eye spotters restin on her chest as she balances on the kero tin.

  ‘What?’ I walk over to her, me legs creakin. Mad. She’s nutty as a fruitcake. Yep, gettin madder by the minute.

  ‘It’s all been going on behind your back, Mavis. Drug dealers are here, right in your house! All these years in Mandamooka I’ve never seen what those sort of people look like. Today I have. Yes, that’s right, Mavis, they’ve all pulled the wool over your eyes, I’m sorry to say. Some bloke walked right in there with a black port thing, a briefcase. I know a druggie when I see him. They always carry a briefcase!’ She firms her lips and nods.

  ‘Drug dealers! Are you outta your mind!’ I can’t feel angry whit her. I laugh at the serious, no-nonsense look on her face.

  ‘Mavis, what’s so funny about that?’ She looks at me whit open sussin as her eyes crawl up n down me figure. I try to form the right words n as I look up at her pink wrinkled face pokin over the fence it reminds me of a dog’s puckered arse.

  ‘Mavis Dooley! God help us all! I’ve never in all my years seen such a display! They’ve got you into it too! It’s the Devil’s work, Mavis! Turn your back on them! Say ‘‘No’’ to drugs! On your feet woman!’ The ol girl hits her fist on the tin fence and looks down at me with a thundery face.

  Suddenly laughter is replaced by surprise as I watch Missus Warby’s face crumple up and her eyes bulge as she stares past me.

  I turn and see Trevor smilin at both of us.

  ‘Hello there,’ he greets the ol girl with a warm smile.

  The poor ol sheila can’t even close her hangin jaw as she gapes at him.

  ‘Did I interrupt something?’ he asks me, walkin over to the fence.

  ‘You’re still alive then?’ I say, and drop me head to check out his feet, noticin he’s wearin a pair a ridin boots whit knee-high socks. Relief rushes through me and at that moment I feel like huggin him and tellin him he’s probly jus saved his own arse like. The socks, I note whit a sneaky laugh inside a me, look a bit suss n outta place.

  ‘Yes, I’m alive. What am I, a zombie now?’ He gives me a confused sorta look.

  ‘I just thought—oh, never mind.’ I cover me mouth whit me hand. Jeesus.

  ‘Trevor the zombie,’ he says, then walks round the yard, arms stretched out n legs stiff. ‘I’m coming to get you,’ he speaks in a deep, evil like voice.

  ‘Come on, Trevor, no foolin.’ I turn back to Missus Warby and the fence.

  ‘It’s him!’ The ol girl hisses, her eyes glued to me face.

  ‘Whatcha mean?’ I quiz, favourin Trevor with a ‘yep, she’s womba’ look.

  ‘Drugs. He’s the big boss, I just bet,’ She whispers outta the side of her cupped hand.

  ‘He is?’ I give her a con look of outrage.

  Then Trevor taps me on the shoulder. ‘Missus Dooley, I thought I’d just let you know Nev’s gone off with Booty for the day. He said something about boxing lessons.’ He bends down to pull up his socks.

  ‘Boxin? Bloody hell! Oops, sorry Missus Warby.’ I grind me teeth together to stop meself from screamin n swearin.

  ‘I’m off over there now. Catch you later.’ Trevor turns n strides cross the yard, his baggy shorts billowin in the breeze. Shit catchers for sure.

  ‘That’s him! Told you, Mavis! Do you know him?’ Missus Warby adjusts her glasses and radars in on me like a
judge at a court hearing.

  ‘Sure, he’s one a Nev’s friends from the city,’ I shrug me shoulders.

  ‘Mavis, I worry about you there with people like that. Did you see what he was wearing? Baggy shorts! That’s where he hides his drugs, I bet!’ She slaps the fence. Her voice becomes all loud n crazy like. ‘I’m telling you that’s where all this killing of innocent people starts. Right there with chaps like him!’

  Suddenly her front teeth pop out a her mouth, fly through the air n thump down lightly on me sandshoe.

  ‘Phhse, were thas wha I say,’ she goes silent, looks down at me feet whit such a look of horror that I feel sorry for the ol girl.

  I bend down n pick up her teeth n hand em back. She shoves em into her mouth n not blinking an eye, she begins again. ‘Yes, as I was saying...’

  ‘Look, I’ve got to go now.’ I cut her off just as Gracie steps out from the washin shed holdin a stubbie, a joint jammed in her mouth. I groan deep in me gut. Today of all days! Gracie staggers over toward us, her legs weak n wobbly. I curl me face at her dirty clothes n greasy hair. But what really worries me is the tee-shirt she’s wearin. It’s got a ugly, green marijuana leaf pichta on it whit the words: Smile if you’re happy.

  ‘Hey, Mum. Good ol Mum.’ She staggers to me, the beer spillin outta the bottle n all down her.

  ‘Gracie! Whatcha doin, girl?’

  She rushes to me. ‘I love you! I love Nevil!’ she laughs, then throws her arms round me neck.

  ‘Hey. Hey, Missus Warby.’ She grins up at the ol woman. ‘Wanna toke? Might lighten ya day up a bit, eh?’ She shoves the joint under the ol girl’s face. I swing round in a panic, knowin that Gracie has just given the ol girl more fuel to torment me whit.

  ‘Gracie, no!’ I push her away from the fence. When I turn back to apologise Missus Warby is gone. ‘Geez, girl! Whatsa matter whit ya?’ I lead her to the house, me head spinnin from the smell of the joint.

  ‘I want Nevil!’ She sobs n coughs at the same time, tryin to keep the smoke jammed behind her teeth. High as a kite. Makes a woman wonder where they get the shit from. Too much Mary Jane, cocaine n whatever else, fuckery whit all they heads, Nevil included.