Still Riding on the Storm

by Robert G. Barrett

  ‘Shit!’ exclaimed Les.

  ‘Ronnie never knew. And if that bouncer hadn’t pinged him, he could have gone on playing football and finished up in a wheelchair with a broken neck.’

  ‘Holy fuck!’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Buzzy. ‘So, Les, I suppose sometimes things happen for the best.’

  ‘They did in this case,’ agreed Norton. ‘So where is the poor, ugly bastard? I’ll go and visit him.’

  ‘He’s in the War Memorial in Birrell Street. Room 331.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll go up and see him in about …’ Les looked at his watch, ‘about an hour or so.’

  ‘Good on you, Les,’ said Buzzy.

  ‘No worries. And thanks, Buzzy.’ Les hung up the phone and stared at the floor.

  Shit! thought Les, poor bloody Hog. A cracked vertebra in his neck. How lucky was he they picked that up? Fate sure works in mysterious ways. Les nodded to the sky. Nice one Boss. Ronnie’s a good man.

  Les spent more than an hour cleaning up and putting some clothes away in his room. He had a shave and a shower, hit himself with a little Eau Sauvage then changed into a pair of Levis and a clean grey Jimmy Buffett T-shirt. There was a box of Lindt chocolates in the fridge that Warren was going to share with his latest squeeze. Les purloined the chocolates, promising to replace them before Warren got back, then went out to his car and headed for the War Memorial Hospital in Birrell Street.

  A smile flickered around Norton’s eyes as he drove in the front and remembered the last time he was there, when Detective Mooney got shot. That was certainly a day, that was. But the old hospital was still as lovely as ever with its white courtyard, neat landscaping and marble statues. Les found a parking spot between a statue of a woman holding a ball over her head and the same blue and gold sign saying AND HE HEALED THEM. He took the chocolates, locked the car, then strolled across to the double glass doors and stepped inside.

  A dining room was off to the left, the rooms ran off to the right and in front of him a receptionist and a nurse were glued to a computer screen behind the front desk. A woman in white was pushing a tea trolley along the grey carpet towards the dining room and a nurse walked past towards the rooms, staring intently at a clipboard. Les didn’t bother to ask where Ronnie was. He noticed a room to the right was 334, so he figured room 331 wouldn’t be far away. It was three doors down on the right. Les knocked softly and stepped inside Ronnie’s bright air-conditioned room overlooking the gardens.

  Ronnie was propped up in a bed next to the window, wearing a blue hospital gown, his neck in a brace and a drip taped to his left hand. His hair was brushed back neatly, but his lack of good looks was further emphasised by a fat lip and a swollen jaw. However, seated on Ronnie’s left, wearing Nikes, pink jeans and a pastel blue top that clung to her hour-glass figure was one of the most beautiful women Les had ever seen. Jet black hair curled around her sweet pixie face, her eyes were a smouldering, seductive hazel and a tiny pair of pink lips with ‘kiss me’ written all over them sat under a dainty nose. She had a perfect tan and Norton surmised she was in her late twenties. Holding the chocolates, Les could hardly take his eyes off her, the woman’s beauty was absolutely intoxicating. Finally, before making a total fool of himself, Les dragged his eyes away and turned to Ronnie.

  ‘Hello Michael Jackson,’ smiled Les. ‘How are you moonwalking these days, me old China?’

  ‘Hey Les,’ Ronnie smiled back. ‘How are you mate? Crikey, it’s good to see you.’

  ‘You too, Ronnie.’ Les placed the chocolates on a table next to Ronnie’s bed. ‘Here mate. I brought you some chocolates. For that sweet little tooth of yours.’

  ‘Shit! Thanks Les,’ said Ronnie. ‘And thanks for sorting out that dopey bouncer for me. Buzzy told me what you did.’

  Les gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. ‘That’s okay, Ronnie. He was just a mug and got what he deserved.’

  ‘Yeah. But thanks anyway,’ said Ronnie.

  Les turned back to the beautiful brunette. ‘Hello,’ he smiled tentatively. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ the girl smiled back, showing a set of perfect white teeth.

  Norton started to stare again. Not only was the girl beautiful in looks, she had a voice like the tinkling of a crystal chandelier. Les felt his heart racing. He had never been so smitten or captivated by a woman in his life.

  ‘Hey Les,’ said Ronnie. ‘This is my sister, Georgina.’

  Les couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Your sister?’ he said.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Ronnie. ‘Georgina. This is Les. Les, meet my sister Georgina.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Les.’ Ronnie’s sister smiled and offered Norton her hand. ‘Ronnie’s been telling me a few things about you.’

  Les took Georgina’s small hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, getting a surprisingly firm handshake in return. Up close Ronnie’s sister not only looked beautiful, she felt beautiful and had a beautiful aroma about her from some exotic perfume. Les also noticed a tasteful amount of expensive gold bling around her neck and on her fingers, and on her left wrist was a gold Longines quartz watch. Georgina had an abundance of class to accompany her loveliness.

  ‘Yeah … yes,’ stammered Les, finally letting go of Georgina’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you, too, Georgina.’ Les had a quick glance around the room. ‘I might get that chair in the corner and sit down.’

  ‘I’ll move along a little,’ said Georgina.

  She moved her chair and Les sat down beside her, facing Ronnie but making sure he could still get a good view of Georgina. Les knew he was going to have to be careful what he said and did because Georgina had bowled him for a six and it wouldn’t be hard to make a fool of himself.

  ‘So where do you live, Georgina? I’ve never see you anywhere before,’ Les asked.

  ‘I live in Wollongong,’ she replied. ‘I drove up this morning when I heard what happened. I’ll go back early tomorrow.’

  ‘Right,’ nodded Les.

  ‘I’m staying at a girlfriend’s house in the same street as the hospital. Just near Centennial Park. In fact it’s such a lovely day I walked up for a little exercise.’

  ‘I don’t blame you,’ said Les. ‘It is a nice day outside.’

  ‘I’d like to be out in it,’ said Ronnie.

  ‘Yes. Well you just stay in bed, you big dill,’ ordered Georgina. ‘And keep off any more dance floors too.’ She turned to Les. ‘Have you ever seen him dance?’

  ‘Yeah. Many a time,’ replied Les, laughing at the way Ronnie’s sister rebuked him. ‘Like an orang-utan with a club foot.’

  ‘Exactly,’ chuckled Georgina. ‘You’ve certainly got a way with words, Les.’

  ‘Ohh bullshit,’ said Ronnie. ‘I’m a very swivilised, swelegant dude. The chicks love me.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ smiled Les. He caught Georgina’s eye. ‘So what do you do in beautiful downtown Wollongong, Georgina? If you don’t mind me asking.’

  Georgina smiled at her brother for a moment. ‘I’m a sales representative,’ she replied.

  ‘Cool,’ nodded Les. ‘Me, I’m just a low-life bouncer,’ he shrugged.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Georgina. ‘Ronnie tells me you’re a lot more than that.’

  After the introductions and whatever the afternoon went wonderfully. They chatted about this and that. The tea lady brought them some tea and biscuits. A very petite Asian nurse came in and took Ronnie’s blood pressure and checked his heart. Finally, and more than a little reluctantly, Les thought it might be best if he left Ronnie and his beautiful sister to themselves.

  ‘Well gang,’ said Les, getting ready to stand up, ‘I might leave you to it. I’m sure you’ve both got a lot of things you wish to talk about.’

  ‘All right Les,’ said Ronnie, reaching over and shaking Norton’s hand. ‘Hey, thanks for coming in mate. And thanks for everything else.’

  ‘That’s all right mate,’ smiled Les. ‘I’ll come back and see you through the
week. And I’ll bring you some more chocolates. These’ll be gone by tonight, knowing you.’ Norton was about to say goodbye to Georgina and leave happy that he hadn’t had a chance to make a dill of himself, when she spoke first.

  ‘Les,’ enquired Georgina, ‘Ronnie tells me you live in Bondi.’

  ‘Yeah. Cox Avenue. I got a house there I share with a smartarse advertising executive named Warren.’

  ‘What are you doing tonight?’

  ‘Tonight … me?’ answered Les. ‘Well, nothing. Why?’

  ‘How about we go out to dinner? I’ll shout. You know somewhere nice?’

  Les couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. ‘I sure do,’ he replied. ‘And I’d love to take you to dinner. I’m not so sure about you shouting, though.’

  ‘Whatever,’ smiled Georgina. She took a piece of hospital stationery, along with a biro, then wrote quickly on the small piece of paper and handed it to Les. ‘There’s my friend’s address and phone number. What time suits you?’

  ‘I don’t know. What time suits you?’ Les replied dumbly.

  ‘How about seven-thirty?’ said Georgina.

  ‘Seven-thirty it is then,’ nodded Les.

  ‘Oooh, you’re a smoothie, Les,’ smiled Ronnie. He looked at his sister. ‘They don’t call her Gorgeous George for nothing.’

  ‘Gorgeous George,’ smiled Les. ‘I’ll go along with that.’

  ‘I’ll see you tonight Les,’ said Georgina.

  ‘Okay. See you then. See you Ronnie.’ Still half dazed, Norton left the room, walked back to his car and drove home.

  Once inside, Les got a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, took it out to the backyard and drank it in the sun. Well, that ugly bastard certainly kept that to himself, he thought. And is this really happening, Les asked himself. That woman is absolutely beautiful, yet she asked me out. Les raised his bottle to the sky. Don’t know what I did to deserve this one, Boss. But thanks heaps. And as for Wollongong, I don’t care if she lives out on the Nullarbor, if I get the chance I’ll be seeing her again. Les drank the remaining water, then went inside and started sorting out a few bills and other things.

  By the time Les had finished, the day was over and it was time to get ready for his dinner date. He changed into a pair of brown jeans, a yellow, button-down collar shirt and a tan Yves St Laurent sports jacket he’d bought from a thief. After topping up the Eau Sauvage he went out to the fridge. Inside was a bottle of Cloud Valley chardonnay Warren was also planning to share with his girl. Promising himself he’d replace that too, Les took the bottle, locked up the house, then walked over to his car and drove to Bondi Junction.

  Where Georgina was staying wasn’t hard to find. It was a single-storey brick house on the left with a white brick fence out front, next to a locked garage. Parked next to the driveway was a silver Mercedes Cabriolet. Les pulled up on the driveway and as he got out off the car he noticed the first two letters of the Cabriolet’s number plate were GG. If that belongs to who I think it does, Ronnie’s sister’s doing all right for herself. Les opened the gate, stepped along a neat pathway and knocked on the polished wood front door. A small dog yapped inside, then the door opened and Georgina was standing there in a simple, very short, very low-cut black sleeveless dress, black stockings and red stilettos. Over her shoulder was a small red handbag.

  ‘Hello Les,’ she smiled.

  ‘Hello Georgina,’ Les smiled back, his heart racing a little.

  ‘Well, I’m ready to go,’ she said, closing the door behind her.

  ‘Then go we shall,’ said Les. He ushered her over to his car, opened the door for her then went round and got behind the wheel.

  ‘I like your dress,’ said Les. ‘It’s very … ethereal,’ he smiled.

  ‘Thank you,’ Georgina smiled. ‘And that’s a particularly nice jacket you’re wearing too.’

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Les asked as he started the engine and began to do a U-turn back up Birrell Street.

  ‘I am actually,’ replied Georgina. ‘But I’m not a very big eater.’ She gave Les a quick once up and down. ‘I’ll bet you can put it away.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Les. ‘I am known as a man of substantial gustation.’

  ‘Something else I also noticed about you,’ said Georgina. ‘Up at the hospital you were wearing a Jimmy Buffett T-shirt. You’re not a parrothead are you?’

  ‘Hey Georgina,’ whispered Les, slipping into a reasonable American accent. ‘Do you know somebody can get me a passssport, real quick?’

  ‘Why sure,’ said Georgina, slipping into a better American accent. ‘I got a cousin works out of a payphone in Miami.’

  ‘How many of his CDs have you got?’ asked Les.

  ‘Most of them.’

  ‘Have you got the DVD Scenes You Know by Heart?’

  ‘Have I ever,’ smiled Georgina. ‘That rocks.’

  ‘Does it what,’ Les smiled back.

  ‘So where are we going for dinner?’ asked Georgina.

  ‘A little place over in Clovelly called Gringos.’

  ‘Gringos?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Les. ‘It’s not too far away, it’s not too pretentious. And the food’s not too bad at all.’

  ‘What kind of food?’ enquired Georgina.

  ‘Kind of Tex-Mex, old-style American. The place hasn’t been open long. And I can’t see us having any trouble getting a table tonight.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ said Georgina. ‘And this wine looks quite nice too.’

  ‘It better be,’ said Les. ‘Or my flatmate will be looking for somewhere else to live.’

  Les took a right at Bronte Road and they chatted away, mainly about music and movies. Before long Les pulled up in Clovelly Road, did a U-turn and parked outside some home units opposite the restaurant.

  ‘There it is,’ nodded Les.

  ‘I like it already,’ said Georgina.

  The restaurant wasn’t all that big. The front window was painted white with crossed Confederate and American flags in the corners. Painted red and blue in the middle was a Mexican sombrero and a ten-gallon hat, and beneath that in red was GRINGOS.

  Inside it was exactly like Les said, not too pretentious. Plain wooden floors and plain wooden tables with red-and-white check tablecloths. The kitchen and counter were at the rear and hanging on the walls were posters of America: the Golden Gate Bridge, Manhattan, the Alamo, etc, along with several framed photos of old movie stars: James Cagney, Jane Russell, Peter Lorre and others. There were eight couples eating plus a table of four. Les and Georgina walked through the tables down to the counter, where Les asked a smiling, red-haired girl in black could they have a table for two. The girl led them to a table by the wall beneath a photo of Humphrey Bogart, handed them a menu each and took the wine to open it, leaving Les smiling inside at the looks Georgina was getting from the other men in the restaurant.

  ‘Gee. Some of the dishes in here look quite tasty,’ commented Georgina.

  ‘They were pretty good last time I was here,’ said Les.

  The red-haired girl brought back the wine and poured them each a glass, then they ordered. For starters they decided to share a gnocchi primavera, Georgina ordered chicken and corn tacos for a main, Les opted for the turkey burgers with cranberry glaze. Plus a bowl of steamed vegetables and two bottles of sparkling mineral water. They clinked glasses and settled back.

  ‘So how did you spend the day earlier, Les?’ asked Georgina. ‘I imagine you went down the beach.’

  Les shook his head. ‘No. Never had a chance,’ he replied soberly. ‘I was too busy out pimping.’

  Any expression drained from Georgina’s face. ‘You were what?’ she said.

  ‘Pimping,’ answered Les. ‘You know. Procuring. I had to take some little chicks out and get ’em on the job.’

  ‘I don’t think I want to hear this,’ said Georgina, looking at Les, her face a mask of pure disgust.

  ‘Fair enough,’ shrugged Les. ‘But a man’s got to earn a dollar. Anyway. Hea
r me out. You did ask me how I spent the day.’

  With Georgina looking like she wanted to get up and leave, Les told her about his day and how it all came about. He started off with having to help The Knee because some big thug wanted his run, which didn’t go over very well at all. But when he got to the part where Dicky opened the van and it was full of cages and what his pimp run consisted of, Georgina’s jaw dropped, then she started a throaty chuckling which soon turned into a howling fit of laughter that had her coughing into her hand and wiping tears from her eyes. She even laughed uproariously when Les told her how he beat up the two thugs. Shit! I’ve struck a nerve here, mused Les, thinking Georgina was about to have an asthma attack. Suddenly, she got up from her chair, reached over and punched Les in the chest.

  ‘Oh, you stupid bastard,’ she howled, getting odd looks from everybody else in the restaurant.

  ‘Well, you did ask,’ shrugged Les again.

  Georgina sat down and tossed back her beautiful head. ‘Oh my God!’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Don’t say nothing,’ said Les. ‘Here comes the food. Let’s eat, drink and … try to be merry.’

  ‘Try to be merry,’ echoed Georgina. ‘How can anybody try to be merry with a nutter like you around?’

  ‘Sorry,’ apologised Les.

  The gnocchi was delicious, with just the right amount of pesto, cream and shaved parmesan. Georgina said her tacos were great and Les couldn’t possibly fault the turkey burgers. Nor could he fault Georgina’s company. Not only was she beautiful, she made you feel fantastic just being with her. They finished the wine, then split a serving of blueberry pancakes and ice-cream followed by two percolated coffees. Les drank the last of his mineral water, went to the toilet and paid the bill on the way back. After he sat down, he smiled at Georgina.

  ‘So how did you like Gringos?’ he asked.

  ‘It was lovely,’ Georgina replied, reaching for her handbag. ‘Now I’d better attend to the bill. Remember. I said it was my shout.’

  Les shook his head. ‘You’re too slow, you poor old thing,’ he said. ‘I’ve already paid it.’