Confessions of a Liar, Thief and Failed Sex God

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Confessions of a Liar, Thief and Failed Sex God Page 10

by Bill Condon


  He nods, mulling it over like he always does. I haven't got time for that. If I don't go to see Mick right now, I never will.

  'Do we have a deal, Zom? If I can fix this you'll give up the idea of killing Mick – once and for all. What do you say?'

  'Yes. Okay.' He offers his hand for me to shake. I give him mine. 'If this works I'll forget Brother Michael once and for all.' The handshake is over but he still clenches my hand. 'But if it doesn't work, Neil, you help me to steal the car, just like I said. That's the only deal I'll agree to. What do you say?'

  48

  I catch the bus up the hill, as if it's just another school day, dreading every second. I want to get off and run and hide but I'll be doing that all my life unless I make a stand now. I think of how Mick slammed into Zom that day when he thought he'd stolen the wallet. Now it's my turn. I have to keep telling myself, over and over like a prayer, that no matter what Mick does to me, this is the right thing to do.

  It's the first time I've ever gone to the Brothers' house. Just knocking on the door feels like a sin. Clementian answers. I hardly recognise him without the black habit. He's wearing shorts and a white T-shirt. He looks ordinary.

  'What are you doing here, Bridges?'

  'I came to see Brother Michael, if I could, Bra. If it's all right.'

  He looks annoyed. That's not unusual.

  'Wait here.'

  I'm standing on the verandah. My lips are dry and so is my tongue – but I'm sweating.

  Clementian lumbers back out.

  'Brother will see you in his office.'

  I follow him inside, down a long dark hallway. Brother Geoffrey watches car racing on TV. Johnno's in the kitchen. He looks up at me and smiles – he'll never know how important that smile is. Sometimes all you need is one smile.

  'Here he is, Brother Michael.'

  'Come.'

  Clementian waves me inside and shuts the door behind him as he leaves. Mick is writing something in a notebook. Even today he's wearing his habit. He doesn't look up.

  The room is crammed with heavy books tightly squeezed together. Everywhere there are photos related to school: sporting teams, captains and prefects, decades-old classes where the faces have almost disappeared.

  'Are you going to speak or not?' Mick lifts his head at last. 'I am very busy here. Why have you come to see me on a Saturday morning?'

  'Sorry to bother you, Brother Michael. I wouldn't have come if it wasn't important. There's something I have to tell you.'

  He puts his pen down, and waits.

  'It's about that time with Ray Zeeba – when he was expelled. There was a wallet that went missing.'

  'It was stolen if my memory serves me correctly – by Mr Zeeba.'

  'That's the thing, Brother, it wasn't him... I stole the wallet.'

  'You?'

  'Yes. I only meant it as a joke – I wasn't going to keep it. Then when Ray got into trouble I was too scared to admit what I'd done.'

  'You stole the wallet?'

  'That's right.'

  'And why are you coming forward at this late stage?'

  'Ray's father is sick. I think he might be dying.'

  'I'm sorry to hear that. But what has it got to do with this wallet business? Try to make yourself clear, will you?'

  'His father kicked him out of the house, Brother – because he hit you. And now his father's sick and he's still not talking to Ray. They might not see each other again.'

  'That is a family matter. It has nothing to do with me.'

  'I thought if I owned up to what I'd done, you could ring Ray's father and tell him it was all right now – tell him that Ray was innocent the whole time.'

  'Well, well. I see. It's very good of you to work all this out for me, Bridges. Isn't it?'

  I don't know what the right answer is so I look at the floor.

  He stands up and reaches into his pocket. The long, deep pocket where he keeps the strap.

  'Perhaps I should simply ask you what I should do in future. Consult Mr Bridges before I make decisions? Do you think?'

  'I don't know, Brother.'

  I see the strap now. He places it on the desk beside him.

  'The sin of omission is every bit as bad as a lie. You know that much, don't you?'

  'Yes, Brother.'

  He stands in front of me, his hands behind his back, his chest out. He knows how to make himself bigger when he wants to make you feel smaller.

  'As well as that you have been cowardly. Is that a fair statement?'

  'It's fair.'

  'Finally, you are a thief. Say it.'

  'I'm a thief, Brother.'

  'Aren't you lucky that God loves sinners ... hmm?'

  'Um ... Yes, Brother.'

  'And even luckier that I'm in a good mood. On your knees.'

  I hesitate.

  'Well? I don't mean tomorrow! Get on your knees!'

  As I kneel he creaks down beside me, the rosary beads spilling over the tops of his hands.

  'Come on, Bridges. Help me pray for your soul – Our Father who art in Heaven,' he glares at me until I chant it with him, 'hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven ...'

  When he gets to 'Amen' he stands and brushes the dirt from his habit, then eases himself down again at his desk.

  'Move along, lad. You're not going to park yourself there all day.'

  I jump up quickly.

  'Now this is what we'll do. For the next week you'll pick up papers for a half an hour twice a day, at lunch-time and after school. And you can consider yourself a very fortunate young fellow.'

  'Yes, Brother.'

  'Off you go then. And don't let me see you back here.'

  I stay.

  'Brother?'

  'I said you can go. Something wrong with your ears? Run along.'

  'Yes, Brother ... but ...'

  'What do you want, Bridges?'

  'Will you ring up Ray's father? If he hears it from you he'll change his mind. He'll let Ray come home. I've got the number right here.'

  I offer him the piece of paper but he doesn't look at it.

  'My boy, now you are trying my patience. What happens with Mr Zeeba and his father is none of my concern. Or yours. That matter is closed. Clean the wax out of your ears. It is closed! Now go home, Bridges – and don't waste my time again.'

  49

  On the bus back into town I think about miracles. Mick will strap you any time for looking at him the wrong way or just because he feels like it, but today he lets me go. He must be going soft in his old age, or maybe he just likes to keep his victims guessing. Whatever the reason, it's got to be damn close to a miracle. I don't like the chances of getting two of them in one day. I made a deal with Zom and I can't take it back. I have to be his lookout when he steals the car. But one thing about the church, it teaches you not to give up ...

  Please help me find a way out of this, God. Give me one more miracle.

  I don't even have to tap on the door. Zom is standing right there waiting for me.

  'Did you see him, Neil?'

  'Yeah, I did.'

  He studies my face for only a moment and knows what happened.

  'He's not going to ring my father, is he?'

  'No. I'm sorry. I tried hard.'

  'I didn't think he would. Thanks for giving it a shot.'

  'Look, Zom, what about if I go and see your dad? I'll tell him what I did – I'll tell anyone you want.'

  'My father might have listened to a school principal, but what you or I say doesn't mean anything to him. Anyway, it doesn't matter. After tonight no one will be hurt by Brother Michael, ever again.'

  'Please don't do it.'

  'Are you with me, Neil?'

  'You can't kill someone, Zom. No matter what he did to you.'

  'Forget me. What about all the ones that come after me? I've thought about this so much. He made me hate. Do I let him do that again? When you see something that's evil, do you turn your back?'


  'I don't know – but you haven't got the right to decide. It's murder – the worst sin of all.'

  'That's true. But tonight I'm going to stop believing in sin. Until it's over, all I believe in is justice. Are you with me?'

  'God, Zom.'

  'You shook my hand.'

  'This is wrong.'

  'Neil?'

  If I go with him at least there's a chance I can stop him – and with or without me, he's determined to go ahead with it.

  'Yes,' I answer. 'I'm with you.'

  50

  'We should stay together all day,' Zom says. 'I don't want to be looking for you at the last minute.'

  I tell him I'll have to ring home and let Mum know everything's okay – otherwise she'll worry.

  'Good idea. Say you don't know what you're doing yet, but you're with a friend from school.'

  'Okay.'

  'And then we'll go to a movie. Bonnie and Clyde is on at the Vista.'

  'I don't get you, Zom. You're talking about killing someone tonight and you want to go to a movie today. It doesn't make sense.'

  'We need to fill in time, Neil. And there's another reason. When you get home your mother is going to want to know what you've been doing all day. Am I right?'

  'Probably.'

  'You had lunch, you talked, you walked – and you went to a movie. All true. Make the call.'

  I do it, just like Zom wants.

  'Take care,' Mum says. 'Don't be home late.'

  As I'm about to hang up I tell her I love her. I mumble it low so she can hardly hear me, but whether she hears or not, I need to say it.

  Zom buys me lunch at the shopping centre cafeteria. Afterwards he leaves me alone while he goes to the toilet. I'm on the top floor, leaning against a rail with about a hundred-foot drop in front of me. The hardest part would be climbing up on the rail and letting myself go. Closing my eyes, I see myself falling. It would be almost like I was flying. That would be the last thing I'd know – I'd be flying. That's one way out of this. I'm too chicken to do it, of course, but I reckon just thinking about it is a kind of death.

  'Neil. It's time to go.'

  'This here's Bonnie Parker. I'm Clyde Barrow. We rob banks.'

  I love everything about this movie, except the ending. I hate it when you get to like someone and they're killed in the last scene. All the rest of the movie you can laugh at but it's too real and sad at the end when Bonnie and Clyde are shot about a million times in slow motion. Maybe I'll see it again when all this stuff with Mick is over and I don't have to worry about anyone dying in real life.

  After the movie Zom takes me to his flat so he can pick up the tools he needs to steal the car. I don't try to change his mind because I know he won't listen anymore. He's doing it. No matter what.

  'There it is.'

  We look down from a railway bridge at a black Ford sedan.

  'The man who owns it manages the bowling alley across the road,' Zom tells me. 'I used to be in a team that played there every week.'

  'Why that car?'

  'I've done my research: it's an easy one to steal, automatic, no alarm, no steering lock.'

  'You've got it all worked out.'

  'And I've been around the manager enough to know what he's like. He puts his wife down in front of other people, treats his staff badly – he deserves to lose something. Any other questions?'

  'No. Yes. One thing. It's only five o'clock now. You said Mick goes walking at seven. Can't we wait a while longer? Can't we just talk some more?'

  'I got here early so you could be home well before it happened – then you can't be implicated.'

  'But what will you do for two hours?'

  'I'll sit and think about Brother Michael and what he did. I need to do that, one last time.'

  'Okay.'

  'Then we go.'

  He races ahead of me down the steps. My legs turn to jelly. He wheels around and urges me on.

  'I don't think I can go through with this, Zom.'

  'You can.'

  He keeps going. I feel like I've got to follow him.

  'Stand here.' He positions me near the car boot. 'If anyone comes, you whistle once and then you get out of here.' He grabs my shoulders and squeezes down on them. 'Two minutes and I'm done. Two minutes and you walk away. Are you up for this, Neil?'

  Troy comes into my mind. I see him dead on the road. I think about all the times he was strapped.

  Two minutes and you walk away . ..

  'Yeah, I am. Just do it.'

  Zom prises open a window. He's inside the car and working under the steering wheel, near the ignition lock. I'm not supposed to look suspicious – have to be casual. How do you do that when your heart is almost out of your chest and bouncing down the street?

  I stare at my watch. Thirty seconds. A minute.

  Hurry up.

  Two minutes-thirty now.

  'What are you doing?'

  No answer.

  Across the road a car door slams. A police car. Two cops get out.

  I can't make myself whistle.

  'Zom. Zom.'

  They haven't seen us yet but they're heading this way.

  'Zom!'

  He starts up the Ford and calmly backs it out. Stopping beside me, he winds down the driver's window.

  'I see them, Neil. Go home.'

  'No, wait –'

  'There isn't time.'

  The Ford slips past me out onto the road. Zom hunches over the wheel, so grimly determined, and drives off.

  There isn't going to be another miracle today.

  51

  Our house smells like Saturday: Mum is cooking dinner, Kevin's footy socks are on the floor stinking up our bedroom.

  Mum looks pointedly at her watch, but skips the speech.

  'Did you have a nice time with your friend?'

  'It was okay.'

  'That's good ... what did you do all day?'

  'Just hung around – talked, had lunch, saw this movie – Bonnie and Clyde – it was about these two bank robbers ...'

  Zom got it so right. It's good to be able to answer honestly, and after I finish telling Mum about the movie, there are no more questions.

  I set the table for three – Kevin is at Rose's place tonight – then it's my turn to say grace. The words are automatic, like the ten times tables.

  Ten ones are ten ...

  Bless us, oh Lord, and these your gifts, which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord –

  I hold back the last word for a second so Mum and Dad can chime in –

  Amen.

  ... Ten tens are a hundred.

  Soon we've eaten and washed up, the plates are stacked away.

  Mum sits at the kitchen table to write down her life in the journal.

  Dad goes out to the shed to be Van Gogh.

  For a little while I throw the ball for Dusty – because she loves it so much – and then I hide out in my room and wait for Zom's phone call.

  I hear the underneath things: clocks ticking, a bird skittering across the tin roof, the fridge doing its endless death rattle, the wind whirring in the distance. Clearest of all, I hear my conscience.

  There's still time to ring the police or the Brothers – warn them.

  If I let this happen, I'm a murderer too.

  I don't move off the bed.

  * * *

  It's seven o'clock.

  Zom will probably be parked down a side street with the engine ticking away, just waiting for Mick to wander into the trap.

  It might be happening right now.

  Every minute I spend thinking about it is a little piece of agony.

  'I'll get that.'

  It's 8 pm and the phone is ringing.

  'No, Mum. I've got it.'

  I run like mad to get there before her.

  'Yes?'

  'Neil.'

  It's only Kevin.

  'Yeah.'

  'Turn on the TV. Channel 7. There's gunna be someth
in' on about Brother Mick from the school.'

  'What happened to him?'

  'No idea – I just came into the room in time to hear his name. They said the full story's comin' up in the news after the ad break ...'

  I drop the phone.

  52

  In breaking news, a school principal is being hailed as a hero tonight after rescuing a teenage boy from a wrecked car, shortly before it burst into flames.

  A word spews out of my mouth that this house has never heard. It brings Mum running into the room.

  'Neil! What is the –'

  She stops when she sees me staring at the screen as someone is being loaded into an ambulance.

  'What's wrong, Neil?'

  'It's Ray.'

  'The boy you were with today?'

  'Yes – yes.'

  I'm only dimly aware of Mum taking my hand but the newsreader's every word drills through me sharp and clear.

  Witnesses say Brother Michael Evans showed no concern for his own safety as .. .

  Police allege .. .

  A sixteen-year-old boy . . .

  Driving too fast. . .

  Lost control on a corner . . .

  Serious condition at Grogan Hospital.

  Mum switches off the TV.

  'We'll leave now,' she says.

  We follow the signs, take the lift to the second floor, and soon we're at the information desk of the hospital. Mum and Dad and me.

  I ask about Zom but I call him Ray. 'How is he? Can I see him?'

  The woman at the desk searches for his file, and finds it.

  'Are you related to the patient?'

  'I'm his friend – he'd want to see me.'

  She glances at Mum and Dad, eyebrows slightly raised.

  'We're all family friends,' Dad lies. 'Very close.'

  Mum stabs him with a disapproving glare but he ignores it.

  The woman leans forward and points towards the back wall.

  'You go straight through those blue doors.'

  53

  Inside the waiting room there are eight or nine members of Zom's family. I only know it's them because I see his mother. His father's not there – and I don't see Sylvie. She's on her way, someone says. I remember what she told me this morning – driving to Newcastle . ..

  Mum introduces herself to everyone, moving from one handshake to the next until she gets to Zom's mother. She crouches beside her, clasps her hand when she gets teary, pats her back, talks softly, listens to every word.

 

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