Bitin' Back

by Vivienne Cleven

  Suddenly, Nevil’s head rises up from Missus Warby’s chest. ‘Close shave, old girl,’ he shakes her gently.

  Missus Warby sits up, glancin round the room. ‘What’s wrong here?’ She eyeballs each of us in turn. She look really stunned like. Her face white as a bleach-washed shirt.

  Then like a red n white streak somebody bursts through the front door n tears round the room. The sirens grow louder.

  ‘Nevil! My Nevil!’ Gracie screams hysterically, her hands crossed on her chest, her mouth goin ten to the dozen.

  ‘Gracie! Gracie, he’s all right!’ I grab her by the shoulders and shake her hard.

  ‘Wha...?’ She turns and looks round at the mess. In the corner she spots Nevil and rushes at him. ‘Gunfire? Who?’ She asks.

  ‘Accident,’ Gwen says, pullin herself up from the woodheap.

  Suddenly the sirens stop. I rush to the window. Lined from one end of the yard to the other are police cars. By the front gate the Mandamooka ambulance sits, doors open for business.

  Hunched down, holdin a loudspeaker in one hand and a pistol in the other, is Max Brown. By his side are bout three or four other cops all armed to the teeth, pointin their weapons straight at me front door.

  ‘Mavis Dooley,’ the loudspeaker kicks into life. ‘It’s your friend Max Brown here. Can you hear me, Mave? Missus Dooley, let the hostages go. Let the hostages go.’

  ‘Fucken hell! Fuck, fuck!’ Gwen squeezes up beside me n takes a peek.

  ‘Mavis, come out. Mavis, it’s your old mate, Max Brown. Come on, Mave, make it easy on yourself.’

  ‘What the bloody hell!’ Missus Warby shoves her face at the window.

  ‘Nevil! Nevil Dooley, are you in there son? Nevil, is anyone injured?’ The loudspeaker blares.

  ‘Oh shit! Oh shit! Missus Warby, I hate to talk to any woman like this but that was a fucken stupid thing to do!’ Booty scolds.

  The loudspeaker crackles. ‘What do you want, Mavis? What are your demands?’

  ‘Now listen here, Mister Dooley, there’s no place for you to be swearing at me like that! He’ll hear you, He will. God will strike you down, son!’

  ‘Missus Warby, shut the fuck up!’ Gwen turns on her.

  ‘Is Nevil okay? Is anyone alive?’ Max gets to his feet and moves toward the front door.

  ‘Shut up! None a this would a happened if it hadn’t been for Gwen n her lover boy!’ I turn on Gwen, pokin a finger into her chest. ‘That’s right, Gwen, you n that piece a shit, Kane! Now look what ya both got a woman into, eh! I ain’t a well woman, Gwen, whit me blood pressure n stuff. You’ll all be the death of me!’

  ‘Mum, shut up, don’t you start,’ Nevil yells, spit flyin from his gob.

  ‘Listen here, Sonny Jim, don’t you talk to ya mother like that!’ Booty explodes.

  ‘I’ll kill that Edge, I promise ya that!’ Big Boy lets it rip.

  ‘Mavis Dooley, can you speak? I’ll ring through on the phone. Pick the phone up when it rings! Mavis, can you hear me?’

  I swing on Big Boy. ‘Yeah, if it hadn’t been for your mother none a this shit woulda happened. I don’t blame you, son. Gwenny shoulda stayed away from Kane when I told her!’

  ‘Jean Rhys! That’s right, Nevil, you wantin to be a fucken woman is what set all the wheels runnin here.’ Booty yells, the vein on his forehead throbbin. ‘All this started from then! A man tried his heart out to set ya straight but, oh no, Nevil wanna be actin like a sheila!’

  ‘Leave him alone, Mister Dooley, the boy’s misled is all. Suffer the little children. I’ve known this boy here since he was this high.’

  ‘Hey, anyone want a toke?’ Gracie wanders round the room, joint in mouth, stubbie in hand.

  ‘Mavis, pick the phone up! Nevil, son, pick up the phone! For God’s sake pick up the phone!’ Max Brown crackles into thin air. ‘I’m here if you want to talk.’

  ‘Never thought I’d see the day where me own mate would turn her back on me!’ Gwen squeals.

  ‘Anyone for a stubbie?’

  ‘Missus Dooley, the police are out there.’

  ‘Vengeance will be mine, yes sir. Some people in this town respect me and you know why? That’s right, Mister Dooley, because I care! Never was the one to turn my back on others! I’ve been your sister’s neighbour for years and it’s my Christian duty to keep an eye on her and Nevil. When my husband passed on, who was there for me? Yes, that’s right, Mavis and Nevil.’

  ‘Missus Dooley, Missus Dooley.’ Trevor shakes my elbow.

  ‘Ohhh right, now don’t you friggin start! Comin here fillin Nevil’s head full a shit! Ya wrecked his life! Ya wrecked my life!’ I push him backwards.

  ‘The phone. Missus Dooley, the phone!’

  ‘Jealous! Yeah, Mavis, ya jealous a me an Darryl!

  I turn on Gwen. ‘Oh yeah, Gwen. Jealous my arse! I be lookin out for you n this is the thanks a woman gets! I done told ya Kane was nuthin but trouble. Ya wouldn’t listen to me, would ya? Fine friend ya are sayin I is jealous. Ya talkin shit n ya know it.’

  ‘Missus D, don’t talk to my mother like that!’ Big Boy comes at me, a scowl on his face.

  ‘Any demands? Mavis Dooley, pick up the phone! Missus Mavis Dooley, pick up the phone, woman!’ Max Brown shouts in the front yard.

  ‘Missus Dooley, the phone’s ringing. Shall I get it?’

  ‘That’s right, Trevor. This is why this all started—because of your fucken phone!’

  ‘Mum, don’t speak to my friend like that! There’s no reason for it. Trevor’s not brainwashing me, I’m my own person! Mum, I’m not a baby any more.’

  ‘Mum, Mum Dooley, Max wants to talk to you on the phone,’ Gracie says, pullin at my sleeve.

  ‘You talk to him, Gracie!’ I shout, then glare at Trevor. The hide a it! Yeah, it all went downhill the day he turned up. My life was fine til all this shit started goin on. Now a woman got all this happenin round her. Trevor ain’t made nuthin any easier for me, that’s fer sure.

  ‘Now, dear, settle down. Want me to make you a nice cup a tea? Okay, come on, Nevil, come and help me round up some morning tea.’ Missus Warby goes to the stove and puts the kettle on.

  ‘A joint! You want me to provide you with drugs and beer? Mavis, what’s going on there? Look, I’ll send one of the boys down to get Doris from Legal Aid. I know what you’ve been through, you can talk to me, Mavis. Come on out Mavis, please!’ Max’s voice sounds desperate.

  ‘Missus Dooley, the police are speaking to you. They’re outside with guns! Look, look there! They have a sniper on Missus Warby’s roof!’ Trevor pushes me to the window.

  I look out. Bad business. Bad egg business. Guns pointin right at me window. I feel me heart hammerin. The piss in me bowels is buildin up to pressure point. It don’t look too good. Cops surroundin the joint like ants on a sugarbowl.

  A woman’s gonna be done over here any minute. Have to tell Max bout all this here, set him straight. He’ll understand.

  Out the corner a me eye I catch a glimpse of Gracie as like in slow motion, she bends down and picks up the shotgun. The girl’s eyes are outta it. She’s high as a kite.

  All hell is gonna cut loose. Gracie, cops n guns not a real good mix. The cops are lookin in. They’ll see everythin—they’ll see how it look like Gracie linin up to shoot.

  Before I can scream ‘drop it’, she brings the rifle up to her shoulder and points it straight at Missus Warby. ‘Bang. Gotcha,’ she laughs shrilly.

  Me guts churn water. A psycho power tell me what gonna happen next. Yep, everybody know the Queensland coppers gun happy. Cut ya down for any reason at all. Kill ya arse, specially if ya black. Right now they gonna see what they wanna. We don’t stand a chance. We redlined.

  Before a woman can shout a warnin, the window explodes, shatterin glass through the whole room. Everythin a roar, sorta like water peltin down a waterfall.

  Here we go again. ‘Down, get ya arses down!’ I shout to the room.

  I feel somethin pass me head n
a whhhiizzzz sound. I feel me hair part as it whistle by, the cold breeze of a bullet.

  Instinct drop me to the floor. Me head spinnin like a merry-go-round. Me eyes shootin colours like a fireworks. This time someone gotta be hurt. This time somebody gotta be dead.

  Yep, ain’t no cop fire off guns n miss their targets. The room’s suddenly full a people. I hear boots chargin n stompin round the room. People yellin n screamin in all directions. I stare at the black-and-white lino on me floor. It look dirty. A woman gotta get offa her big arse n clean it. Fat stains n scratches mark the little squares. Eh, there ya go, ya think ya kitchen’s clean n spotless til ya really have a good eyeball at it. Hope no one ever noticed. Shamejob havin filthy lino. Course a woman could buy new stuff. Yep, the bingo money’d cover it.

  I let me thoughts go when I feel somethin hard jammed into the small a me back. A gun. A gun jammed into me spine. Hope those bastards ain’t got mud on their big useless boots. Cartin dirt onto a woman’s already fucked-up lino.

  I search the room whit me eyes. Who’d they get? Gracie? Is Gracie dead? Oh God, no, no! Please, God, don’t let Gracie be dead.

  ‘Fucken pricks! Get off me fucken head! Get up!’ Booty’s voice screams loud and clear but full a fear.

  ‘Help! Oh God! I’m innocent! It’s all a terrible mistake! For God’s sake, I’m Trevor Wren Davidson! Let me go! Oh Jesus ... get that gun out of my face!’ Trevor shouts real high, his voice bouncin off the walls.

  ‘There ain’t no Jean Rhys! I made her up! Yes, made it all up! I’m not fucken Edge! It’s not what you think!’ Nevil shouts.

  ‘Get your filthy paws off me, son. Don’t you dare manhandle me! I’ll notify Reverend Clinton of this, you hear me, Max Brown! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! And leave her alone! She’s not one of your crooks! Get off Missus Dooley’s back, you, you—you sinner!’ Missus Warby shrieks.

  ‘Darryl Kane is Isaac Edge. I’ll tell you everything. Jean Rhys, yes, even about her,’ Gwen yells at the top of her lungs.

  ‘I had nuthin to do with it. I don’t own a gun! It’s hers, Missus Warby’s, that old lunatic! Said she’d blow Darryl Kane away! The gun went off by accident! No one was gonna shoot at youse,’ Big Boy sobs.

  ‘Fucken freaky, man! Hey, Max, whatcha call that sorta weapon?’ Gracie asks, gigglin.

  I heave a deep sigh. The girl alive.

  Somehow I’m hauled to me feet n marched out the front door whit the gun jammed in me kidneys. I silently curse Missus Warby to hell n back. A woman jus sick to death a the police station. I throw a glance over me shoulder n watch as everyone is dragged, pulled, n shoved into the big mob a gungie cars linin the street.

  Be frigged if a woman can go through any more a this shit. I wearin down fast. Can’t hold up for too long now. I look out the rear window as the gungi car tears off down the street, the siren going full bore. Yep, I’m fucked here now. They got me as some sorta hostage taker. Ah well, Mavis Dooley, ya time has finally come.

  SEVENTEEN

  The Sun West of the Mountains

  Darryl Kane, aka Isaac Edge, glares poison-eyed as the Ds march him past us. ‘Bitch. Nearly had youse.’ He wears a sour look of defeat and hate as he stares at me then Nevil.

  ‘Now, Mister Edge, that’s where you’re wrong!’ Missus Warby spits out, her face scarlet. ‘The thing is, I almost had you! Yes, sir, you are a disease on this good community, and I won’t tolerate people like you trying to hurt children! You see, I’ve known Nevie since this high.’ She motions with one arm. ‘You could say he’s the son I never had. And if you think you’d have got away with all this, well, Mister Doodad, that’s where you’re mistaken!’

  Gwen stands up, hands outstretched towards Kane as though the answer will float into her open palms. ‘But why?’ She croaks.

  I watch the way her face collapses, like she gonna bawlbubby. I feel sorta bad for her. Another kick in the guts. Yeah, well, this time least it ain’t me.

  ‘Because of what she did!’ Darryl swings round n glares at me whit hard green eyes. ‘That black bitch made me look a fucking idiot! I never liked her from day one. I could of had you. You realise what you done to me! Wrecked my life! You made a fuckhead of me in front of the entire town, then my wife pissed off on me after you had to open that filthy trap of yours! I’ll be back—and when I do I’ll be chasing you down, woman!’ Spit flies from his mouth, he shakes handcuffed fists at me.

  ‘Darryl, it ain’t ever had anythin to do whit me. If you the big man ya wouldna tried to kick Gwen in the guts when she were down. As for Samantha, well, good job, pity the girl didn’t piss off on ya a long time ago. Chase me down, eh—good luck, cos I be here n ya knowin where I live. Alls I can say is have a nice holiday in the big joint.’ I give him a bright smile. There, take that, Mister Smartarse!

  Suddenly he lunges, his handcuffed hands tryin to grab hold a me. I step back and fall against the wall.

  ‘Back! Back, Kane. Settle down!’ The fat D grabs him by the arm and holds him tightly to the spot.

  ‘You did all this to Mavis and Nevil because she sat on you at the pub? Ya gotta be joking!’ Gwen looks at him. I read the woman’s face—he’s a fucken lunatic, it suggests.

  ‘She wrecked my marriage and my life. Everyone heard what she said to Samantha at the pub. Sam just couldn’t take it. For fuck’s sake! The woman took away my life!’

  Max gives Kane the once over, his lips curled back like somewhere’s a bad smell. ‘Well, mate, I’m surprised Samantha didn’t leave you years ago.’

  ‘But,’ Gwen frowns at Darryl, ‘Where the hell did this Jean woman come into it?’

  The skinny D taps Darryl on the shoulder. ‘Yeah, come on now Kane, why don’t you tell us the truth? It makes no sense at all.’

  Darryl turns to Gwen, an oily smirk on his dial. ‘That’s the good part,’ he looks around at us. ‘It was Dotty Reedman who told me about this sheila Jean Rhys staying at Dooley’s. Yeah, me and Dotty are real good mates if you know what I mean.’ He grins, runnin a hand through greasy, slicked back hair. ‘I knew I could set it all up. Things started to get a bit hot for me with the Bullya cops, I needed to throw the scent another way.’ He stops for a second and tucks his navy singlet into his arse tight jeans. ‘I knew I could kill three birds with one stone. I decided to throw the scent that way!’ He jabs a finger at me n Nevil.

  ‘But...’ Gwen begins.

  ‘Come on, Edge, time to move on.’ The fat detective grabs him by the singlet and pushes him down the hall, Darryl makes a wild U-turn and swings about to face us. ‘I’ll be back!’ he shouts, his eyes poppin from his head n his face bloated and red with anger. ‘And if it’s the last thing I ever do, I’m gonna get you, Mavis Dooley!’

  As the detective swings him back round he cries out over his shoulder. ‘I love you, Gwenny!’

  ‘Well, I don’t love you! Ya wanka!’ Gwen shouts back.

  ‘See you in hell, Kane!’ Missus Warby throws her partin shot, eyes ablaze.

  Max Brown motions Missus Warby to step forward. The man looks tongue-tied. ‘I’m charging you with possessing an unregistered firearm. Now, look, I don’t want any objections or threats, Missus Warby, please.’

  Missus Warby pulls herself up, her spine ruler straight. ‘The Reverend will know. That’s right, Max, Reverend Clinton will hear about this! If it weren’t for me that Edge, Kane, whoever on God’s earth he is, would have got away with all this! I’m just doing my duty as a good citizen of this town.’ She bends forward, ‘I expect you to overlook this little error.’ She smiles, then bangs a hand down on the counter. ‘It’d be the best thing for you. After all, I was the one that brought Kane undone, wasn’t I?’

  Max looks past Missus Warby. ‘Mavis, are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll live,’ I tell him, shruggin my shoulders.

  Max sighs, offerin us a tired look. ‘It’s over now. I think everyone can go home. But you must all understand I’ve only done what’s required of me.’

&nb
sp; ‘Max, how’d you know about the gun?’ Booty questions, gettin to his feet.

  ‘Missus Fellows from across the road rang in, saying that Mavis Dooley had finally cracked. She heard the gun go off and reckoned that, you know ... you were all dead.’ Max smiles thinly.

  ‘So, Darryl is the Edge? I mean, I sorta sussed somethin wrong whit him. All those phone calls to Bullya. I jus couldn’t be too sure though. Til Mavis tipped me off.’ Gwen stares past us, confused.

  ‘Yep, reckon we definitely got our man this time. No mistake—but, Gwen, who is Jean?’

  ‘Long story, I reckon.’ Gwen laughs.

  ‘She never was here, Max. She a gammon, ghost.’ I say.

  ‘Mavis, where did all this begin?’

  ‘When Nevil woke up one day,’ I answer, not willin to say more.

  A woman don’t wanna be raisin the dead again.

  ‘Put it this way, I don’t think you’ll hear about her ever again. That’s unless you happen to read her books,’ Trevor butts in, giving Nevil a mysterious wink.

  ‘Yes, well, that’s good because I’m sick of hearing that name!’ Max laughs, he motions to the door. ‘You’re all free to go.’

  The street is quiet n dead. I look across to Missus Warby’s but there’s no movements there. The poor ol bag, probly plottin for the next show! I turn away from the broken window, put the kettle on and sit down. ‘Nevil, the big game’s on tamarra, what ya gonna do?’

  ‘I’m playing, Ma,’ he answers with a cheeky grin.

  I peer at him. ‘Nevil—you really are Nevil, aren’t ya?’

  ‘Yep, Nevil Dooley, male, twenty-one years old,’ he answers with a glint in his eyes.

  ‘But...?’ I turn to Trevor.

  ‘Missus Dooley, I’m not who you think. I, well, I’m not a painter, a dancer or any of those things. I’m from The Crossroads publishing house. I’m here to—well, to help this genius!’ He laughs and throws Nevil a look of real respect.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I don’t understand. Publishin? What the hell he on bout?