High Noon in Nimbin

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High Noon in Nimbin Page 8

by Robert G. Barrett

‘All right. I’m only trying to help.’ Les nodded to the bathroom. ‘Why don’t you go and have a shower, Steelo, and wash all the blood off you. You look like you’ve been in a car wreck.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tony nodded glumly. ‘I might just do that.’

  ‘Hey. Before you go.’

  ‘What?’

  Les picked up his camera and aimed it at Tony. ‘Come on. Give us a smile, mate.’

  ‘Ohh, fuck off, Les.’

  Les clicked off two close-ups. ‘And one more for safety,’ he grinned.

  ‘Fuck you, Norton,’ cursed Tony.

  The flash went off and Norton’s grin widened. ‘Thanks, Steelo.’

  Tony stripped off and stepped pitiably into the bathroom. Les ate a kebab and a spring roll, washed them down with a little mineral water then made himself a delicious. Pleased he hadn’t torn anything during the brawl, he changed into his shorts and LORNE T-shirt and settled on a chair in the loungeroom debating whether to watch TV or listen to the radio. Les chose the radio. Queen were bopping ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’ when Tony came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around him. All the blood was gone, but his nose and lips were swollen, he had a lot of bark missing and one eye was starting to close.

  ‘How do you feel now, mate?’ asked Les.

  ‘Up to shit,’ replied Tony. ‘That fuckin big idiot. Hey, what happened to him anyway?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Les. ‘One minute he was standing there, punching into you. The next thing, he was lying on the floor unconscious.’

  ‘Was that you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ shrugged Les. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Good on you, mate,’ smiled Tony. ‘Hey. I helped myself to some more of your Panadeine capsules. I had to.’

  ‘That’s all right, mate,’ said Les. ‘If I was in your condition, I’d be howling for morphine.’

  ‘You haven’t got any, have you? I don’t do drugs. But tonight I’m willing to make an exception.’

  Les shook his head. ‘So what are you going to do now, man of steel?’

  ‘What am I going to do? What do you think I’m going to fuckin do,’ answered Tony. ‘I’m going to bed. I’m fucked.’

  ‘I thought you might like to call Ruby. Get her and Janet round here for a few drinks. There’s still plenty of piss in the fridge.’

  ‘Yeah, terrific. All right, Les. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Okay, mate. The radio’s not too loud, is it?’

  ‘No.’ Tony shook his head before he disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door. ‘What a fuckin night. I can’t fuckin believe it.’

  Les eased back with his delicious, closed his eyes and listened to the radio. It was nice and relaxing in the flat and soon Les found himself quietly chuckling about the reception, particularly the blue envelope. Picking it up was okay. Keeping it wasn’t. But what Deadline didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him and if somebody else hadn’t picked it up, it would only have got swept out with the rubbish. Les was thinking he might leave Tony’s hundred somewhere in his room where he’d find it, when there was a knock on the door. Shit, frowned Les, I wonder who this is? Norton walked over and opened the door to find Janet standing there, wearing a pair of jeans and a floppy white THREDBO T-shirt.

  ‘Janet?’

  ‘Les. Shit. What happened at the reception? One of my girlfriends was working there. She rang me and said it turned into a huge fight. The police came and everything.’

  ‘They sure did,’ replied Les. ‘Come inside and I’ll tell you all about it.’

  Janet stepped into the flat and looked around as Les closed the door. ‘Where’s Tony?’ she asked.

  ‘In bed.’

  ‘Is he all right?’

  ‘Yeah. He’ll live,’ said Les. ‘Why don’t you go in and say hello?’

  ‘Okay. I will.’

  Les knocked on Tony’s door then opened it and turned on the light. ‘Hey. Steve Stunning. There’s somebody here wants to see you.’

  Tony half raised his head off the pillows and painfully blinked his eyes open. ‘Huh…what?’

  ‘There you go.’ Les stood back to let Janet into the room then returned to his seat in the loungeroom, leaving Tony’s bedroom door slightly ajar.

  ‘Holy Hannah, Tony. You look a messss.’

  Les finished his delicious and was about to make another when Janet came out of Tony’s bedroom, switching off the light and closing the door behind her.

  ‘The poor wee fellah,’ said Janet. ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘Pull up a chair and I’ll tell you,’ replied Les. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘All right. That’d be nice, Les. Bourbon with a beer chaser? Is that okay?’

  ‘Coming right up.’

  Janet settled down in the loungeroom and Les made two more bourbons and mineral water. He handed one to Janet plus a bottle of Becks, clinked her glass and sat down opposite her.

  ‘So how did everything start?’ asked Janet.

  ‘It was all Ruby’s silly bloody boyfriend’s fault,’ replied Les.

  ‘Richard? Yeah, that’d be right,’ said Janet.

  Les gave Janet a story about how he walked into the reception with Tony and recognised Richard from the description she gave him. They weren’t there very long when Richard saw Tony near the bar, ran up, abused him and started punching into him. With the help of another guest, Les managed to break the fight up then Richard started throwing punches everywhere, hitting a woman. Next thing the reception turned into a giant, humungous brawl. Les could immediately see Tony was in a bad way so he got him out of there as quickly as he could. What happened after that, Les didn’t know. They made it to the flats just as the police started to arrive.

  ‘You did the right thing getting Tony out of there,’ said Janet.

  ‘Yeah.’ Les shook his head. ‘Fair dinkum. That Richard’s a deadset ratbag.’

  ‘Ohh, tell me about it,’ said Janet. ‘He’s going to finish up in big trouble one day.’ She chuckled into her drink. ‘He must have bit off more than he could chew during the fight tonight though.’

  ‘Oh, why’s that?’ Les asked innocently.

  ‘My girlfriend said they took him to hospital with a broken nose and a suspected broken jaw.’

  ‘Good,’ said Les. ‘Serves him right.’

  ‘My cousin Andrew’s in hospital too.’

  ‘Your cousin? I didn’t know he was there. What happened to him?’

  ‘He broke his arm,’ said Janet. ‘He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t lose his job,’ she added. ‘He wasn’t supposed to be there.’

  Les took a sip of bourbon and studied Janet over the glass. ‘Putting two and two together, I’d say Andrew told Richard about last night.’

  ‘Oh, for sure,’ said Janet. ‘They’re as thick as thieves those two. In fact I told Ruby something like this might happen.’

  ‘Where is Ruby?’

  ‘Newcastle. Her sister just had twins.’

  ‘Really? Aunty Ruby,’ smiled Les. ‘It’s got a nice ring about it.’

  ‘It has,’ Janet smiled back.

  Les eased back in his chair. ‘So how’s your day been, Janet?’ he asked. ‘And I’m glad you called round tonight. Tony’s absolutely no company at all.’

  ‘I can see that,’ laughed Janet. ‘No. I did lunches at the club. Then I had a jog and went for a swim. I was watching TV and just about to go to bed when my girlfriend rang.’

  ‘How did you get round here? Did you drive?’

  ‘Yeah. But there’ll be no cops around tonight. They’ll all be down at the reception. Besides, I only live near Elizabeth Beach. Two minutes away.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  Janet held up her empty glass and the empty beer bottle. ‘All right if I have another?’

  ‘Sure. Stay there. I’ll get them.’

  Les got another round of drinks together then sat down and told Janet about his day. He didn’t mention her cousin and Richard checking Tony and him out when they w
ere having breakfast. But he told her about his run, the wedding, clicked on his digital camera and showed Janet the photos he’d taken at the Green Cathedral.

  ‘I’ve been to a few weddings at the Green Cathedral,’ said Janet. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Yeah. I didn’t want to leave,’ said Les. ‘I can’t wait to see the photos Tony took.’

  Les and Janet joked and talked about different things and had another round of drinks. Before long they’d moved their chairs closer together and the next thing Les knew, he had his arm around Janet’s trim waist and they were kissing each other. After another torrid round of kissing that finished with Norton’s hand under Janet’s T-shirt, Janet drew back and smiled at Les with her devilish green eyes.

  ‘Have you got any rubbers left, Les?’ she asked.

  ‘One,’ replied Norton.

  ‘One should be enough.’ Janet took another sip of bourbon and placed the glass on the table. ‘Les,’ she said, ‘how would you like to take me into your bedroom, throw me on the bed and get into a bit of good old-fashioned bonking?’

  Les studied Janet over his glass for a moment. ‘How about I give your snetch a wee suck first?’

  ‘How about you do just that,’ smiled Janet.

  Les didn’t have to throw Janet on the bed. After she took her clothes off, Janet climbed onto the duvet laughing and of her own free will. Les got out of his clothes, placed a towel under one of the rollers to slow down any movement, then spying the little pine cone sticking up, he eased Janet’s legs apart and buried his face in it.

  After a run and a swim followed by a hot shower, the little pine cone was delightful. Janet squealed and squawked and kicked her legs up and before long she was foaming at the mouth and Mr Wobbly was screaming his nasty little head off demanding in on the action. Les spat out a couple of pubic hairs, slipped Mr Wobbly’s little raincoat on, then entered Janet and started pumping away.

  With the bed a lot steadier and Les not quite as tired, he was able to give Janet a real good going over. She howled at Les, spurring him on while Les gave it to her from three or four different positions. Finally, Janet got her rocks off with Les going for it dog fashion. So with a great bellow, Les emptied out, leaving Mr Wobbly a quivering, shaking mess once more in his little rubber raincoat.

  When they’d finished, Norton went to the bathroom and got rid of the condom before bringing back two glasses of mineral water from the fridge. With the pillows behind them, Les and Janet propped themselves up at the end of the bed, sipped their mineral water and talked about nothing much in particular till Janet eventually looked at her watch.

  ‘Les,’ said Janet. ‘I’m going to have to love you and leave you. I promised a friend I’d drive her to Laurieton early tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll walk you down to your car.’

  ‘No. You needn’t bother. I’ll be all right.’

  ‘Well, at least let me walk you to the door.’

  Les had a bit of a perv on Janet putting her clothes back on before he climbed into his T-shirt and jox and walked her to the door. She put her arms round his neck and Les kissed her.

  ‘Don’t forget to give me a call when you get back to Sydney, Les,’ said Janet.

  ‘No. I will. I’ll get the number off Tony.’

  ‘And tell Tony to ring me as well. I want to know how he is. Ruby will be worried too.’

  ‘I’ll see that he does.’

  Janet kissed Norton then let him go. ‘All right, Les,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you when I see you.’

  ‘Goodnight, Janet,’ smiled Les. ‘Take care of yourself. And thanks for coming round. That was nice of you.’

  Janet skipped off down the stairs, Les closed the door and not long after, a car drove off with a slightly noisy muffler. Les yawned and shuffled off to the bathroom.

  After drinking a glass of water in the kitchen, Les turned off his ghetto blaster and all the lights and climbed back into bed. Well, he thought, pushing his head into the pillows. Apart from Steelo getting his head punched in, that wasn’t a bad night. I’ll definitely give Janet a ring. And if I’m ever up this way again, I’ll make sure I see her. She was fun. Les yawned and realised he was tireder than he thought. The scent of Janet’s body oil rose from the pillows again and Les had to smile. Yeah. Nothing wrong with Janet, he told himself. She was all right. Seconds later, Norton was out for the count.

  Les woke up earlier and feeling better the next morning. He yawned, stretched and had a look out the window; the wind had swung round to the south and it had clouded over with a good chance of rain. Oh well, thought Les. You can’t have it perfect all the time. Norton swung his feet out of bed and stepped into the loungeroom. From Tony’s room the sound of soft snoring was now a tortured garble as the battered surf photographer sucked air through his mouth and what was left of his nose. Les shook his head sympathetically. I think I might leave sleeping beauty for the time being, he smiled as he went to the bathroom. I just hope that root he had on Tuesday night was a good one.

  When he’d finished in the bathroom Les opened the fridge door and peered inside. No, I don’t think so, he told himself, closing the door. You can stick the eggplant and a cup of hot water in your arse. I can hear the coffee and eggs calling down the road. Same goes for a run. It’s an ideal morning for it. But I just ain’t got the time. Les collected his training gear from the back verandah, changed into his blue cargoes and knowing he’d be stuck behind the wheel of his car all day, wore the same maroon T-shirt. He pocketed his money and credit cards, walked down to the Berlina and drove round to Fifty-Fifty.

  There weren’t many people or cars around this time when Les pulled up outside the restaurant. He got the paper at the supermarket then walked into Fifty-Fifty and ordered what he had for breakfast the day before. The girl behind the counter remembered his craggy smile and in no time Les had a double shot latte sitting in front of him as he opened the paper at the same table he’d shared with Tony. The food arrived and Les enjoyed every mouthful as he read the news. When he paid the bill, Les ordered two ham and cheese croissants and a large flat white to take away. The girl put everything in a brown paper bag, Les thanked her and drove back to the flat.

  Tony was up and in the bathroom when Les walked in the door. He placed the brown paper bag in the kitchen then went to Tony’s room and slipped two fifties into Tony’s shirt pocket before sitting down in the loungeroom. Eventually Tony stepped out of the bathroom with his grey shorts on and a towel over his shoulder. He was walking stiffly, one eye was completely closed and there was no sign of a smile on his bruised, swollen face.

  ‘G’day, Steelo,’ Les said cheerfully. ‘How are you feeling this morning, mate?’

  Tony looked at Les out of his least blackened eye. ‘How am I feeling?’ he echoed glumly. ‘How do you think I feel? Have a look at my fuckin head.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Les. ‘It wouldn’t look out of place in Cirque du Soleil.’

  ‘I think I’d better see a doctor, too. My nose is totally fucked. And I’ll probably need some stitches in this cut over my eye. It’s still bleeding.’

  ‘Good idea,’ replied Les. ‘Unfortunately but, old mate, you’re going to have to find a doctor without me. I got to piss off. I got a long drive in front of me.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Tony. ‘I’ll ring Deadline. One of the boys’ll give me a lift.’

  ‘There’s got to be a doctor down at the shops,’ assured Les. ‘Or an aromatherapist. You can walk down in five minutes.’

  ‘Yeah,’ grunted Tony.

  ‘You hungry?’

  ‘Fuckin starving.’

  ‘Good. I brought you back a couple of croissants and a flat white. They’re in the kitchen.’

  Tony stepped into the kitchen and opened the brown paper bag. ‘Ohh,’ thanks, mate,’ he said. ‘Unreal. What do I owe you?’

  Les shook his head. ‘Nothing. Do I owe you anything else on the flat? Bond, rent, whatever?’

  ‘No. Everything’s sweet.’


  ‘Then we’re all square.’ Les rose to his feet. ‘Okay. I’ll leave you to it, Steelo, while I pack my gear.’

  Les picked up his ghetto blaster and got his shaving gear from the bathroom; Tony could have what was left of the bourbon and vodka. He then went to his bedroom and packed. Before long Les was back in the loungeroom, his carrybag over his shoulder and his travel bag on the floor. Tony was seated in the kitchen nibbling gingerly on a croissant which he carefully washed down with coffee.

  ‘How are the croissants, Steelo?’ asked Les.

  ‘Unreal,’ replied Tony. ‘I can actually chew the fuckin things. The coffee’s good too.’

  ‘Excellent,’ smiled Les. ‘So when are you going back to Sydney?’

  ‘I got a stack of work on,’ replied Tony. ‘I should go back tomorrow. But I think I’ll stay a couple more days. It’s nice up here.’

  ‘Yeah. I don’t blame you.’

  ‘I just hope that idiot doesn’t come around for a fuckin rematch.’

  ‘Steelo,’ winked Les, ‘I can guarantee, he won’t be around for a rematch.’ Les informed Tony what Janet had told him the night before, and also filled in a few in-betweens. When Les had finished, Tony put his coffee down and gave Norton a double blink.

  ‘You mean to tell me,’ questioned Tony, ‘you put both those cunts in hospital?’

  ‘Steelo,’ replied Les from behind a thin smile, ‘there’s three things in this world you don’t do.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You don’t piss Superwoman off when she’s got her period. You don’t park across Bruce Banner’s driveway. And you don’t put shit on the redheaded terror from Queensland.’

  Tony strained and held his ribs. ‘Please, Les,’ he wheezed. ‘Don’t make me laugh. I feel shithouse enough as it is.’

  Les reached over and shook Tony’s hand. ‘I’ll see you back in Sydney, Steelo.’

  ‘Righto, mate. See you then.’

  Les picked up his travel bag and, leaving Tony to finish his breakfast, walked down to the car and threw his bags in the back. He was past the Sailing Club and on his way to Forster when the wind dropped and a light blanket of steady rain fell over everything.

 

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