K Road

by Ted Dawe

  They waited at the Pitt Street lights for the ‘Cross Now’ signal. When the buzzer came they were halfway across the road before they noticed Gigi still on the footpath locked in a pose.

  ‘What’s up sister?’ called Api.

  She waited for a few more long seconds and then commenced crossing like a cat walk model, pausing to pick imaginary dust off the fronts of cars. The traffic got the green and she was still only halfway, head back, hips swinging and raking the air with those bright red nails. Someone tooted and she froze in front of the offending car, fixing the driver with a withering stare before ambling over to the others.

  ‘’Sup?’ asked Sonny.

  ‘Cross now!’ she said in a posh voice. ‘Gigi doesn’t cross just because some robot says she can.’ Then she stuck her nose in the air in fake outrage.

  Roxy laughed. ‘Yeah right, too much “do this, do that”.’

  Gigi threw her arm across Roxy’s shoulders, making her look even smaller. ‘You said it, girl. When some one …’ she paused, ‘or something, tells me to do something, I say “Sit on this, and rotate”.’ She offered her long, crimson-tipped middle finger.

  A few blocks off K. Road, they came to this old brick building. It was behind a high tin fence but you could easily see that it had once been a fire station. This must have been a long time ago because there were small trees and vines all along the front.

  ‘This is the castle,’ said Sonny. ‘We been here nearly a year.’

  ‘Room for us?’ asked Jazz.

  ‘Course. You with us now.’ It had to be said.

  ‘Thanks, bro,’ said Jazz and offered the gang shake. Gigi and the other two each gave Roxy a kiss and a hug.

  Gigi squeezed Roxy’s cheek. ‘She’s so cute.’ She turned to Api and Ruby. ‘You keep your hands off her. She’s just a baby.’

  They responded with ‘who, me?’ shrugs.

  Jazz’s attention was caught by the old house next door: it was all painted purple and had a sign on the front: ‘The Slipper Inn.’

  ‘That’s where Sonny wants to go … but I won’t let him,’ said Gigi with that look that told you she was winding him up.

  ‘That’s where Gigi wants to work, more like it.’

  This brought on another ‘ha!’ pose before everyone started to squeeze between the two buildings. The tin fence finished just before the wall of the castle. Sonny held back a sheet of loose tin while they all climbed in.

  Inside the fence was a little jungle of bushes and weeds. There was also all the crap that people had heaved over the fence during the years that this place had been closed down. It was hard to get a clear view in the fading light. The castle seemed to have a couple of storeys and a sort of tower.

  ‘What’s with that?’ asked Jazz.

  ‘It’s where they used to practise their rescues. You get to it up a ladder.’

  They went up the big old steps in front and Gigi threw open the door with a flourish. ‘No need to take your shoes off.’

  There were hardly any windows left in the building: all smashed. Most of the rooms had stuff in them, mattresses, piles of clothes, things that looked like they waited for someone’s return.

  ‘Who stays in these rooms?’

  ‘We have guests from time to time,’ said Gigi like she was the manager of a hotel. ‘That was Sione’s room. He got kicked out for taking too much of Sonny’s stuff.’

  ‘We’re in the room over there.’ Api pointed to the end of the hall.

  ‘What’s all that stuff in the big room, where the engines used to stay?’

  ‘That’s this old Pakeha fulla. He brings in bags of newspapers and stuff each day.’ said Ruby.

  ‘He’s a funny guy, eh?’ said Api ‘He reckons he used to be a lawyer dude, then something went wrong.’

  ‘Too much meth,’ said Sonny.

  ‘He does crystal?’ asked Jazz.

  ‘Don’t think so!’ said Sonny. ‘He does steam. Meth spirit and that sweet wine that old ladies drink.’

  ‘He’s a metho bum,’ added Ruby to clear the matter up.

  ‘He’s got mates who come over to party too. They get noisy.’

  ‘Let’s check him out,’ said Sonny. ‘I reckon he’ll want to know who you are anyway.’

  They moved into a big room that had shelves and a noticeboard on one of the walls. At one end there was a pole that went up through a hole in the floor to the upstairs level.

  ‘Hey look!’ said Jazz, ‘a fireman’s pole. I just thought they had those in the movies.’

  ‘Yeah when there was no fire, the guys would get it on, practising their pole dancing,’ said Gigi, and she did a little routine to show what she meant.

  ‘You’re good,’ said Roxy. ‘I reckon you could make a living doing that.’

  ‘A living sliding up and down poles?’ she said slowly, her chin between finger and thumb as if pondering something she had never though of. ‘My, my, honey, you could be onto something there.’

  They all laughed.

  They went out the back door where there was a clear space before a big blank factory wall. On one side was an old barbeque, with woodpile, axe and block next to it, all ready to go. A water tank and an old bath were at the other end, and even a clothesline with some baggy white underpants hanging on it.

  ‘Hey, someone’s set up,’ said Jazz.

  ‘I reckon. He’s here for the long run,’ said Sonny.

  There was barking behind the closed door and a scratching noise.

  ‘Heel, Six, you old bugger.’ It was a deep voice. It was followed by the sound of sliding bolts. The door opened and a small black dog came bouncing out. It produced the sort of bark that should have come from a dog twice its size. A short, white-haired man appeared. His long white beard gave him the Santa look. From his mouth there protruded a badly rolled smoke that looked as if it had been there for years. It was surrounded by a circle of nicotine-stained hair. He was wearing paint-splattered track pants and a jersey that was unravelling at the bottom. His feet were bare, and really rough.

  ‘Ah, the gathering of the Klan,’ he said. The dog continued the barking as if to have its say. ‘Will … you … shut … up?’ he said, when he had it firmly tucked under his arm.

  ‘So,’ he said to Sonny, ‘who’re the new recruits? Keep still will you, Six, you hound from hell.’ The dog wriggled and squirmed so much he had to release it. It now trotted up to them cheerfully, wagging its stubby tail.

  ‘Shorty, this is Jazz and Roxy.’

  He glowered at them for a moment and then stepped forward to shake their hands vigorously.

  ‘So, Jazz, you’re a guitarist. Can ye play Django Reinhardt?’ he had this Scottish accent that came and went.

  ‘I can play anything.’

  ‘Brave words. And the lovely Roxy, named after the cinema on Lambton Quay? Maybe conceived there. Recently I reckon. You look young to be up so late.’

  ‘I’m not that young.’

  ‘That’s the spirit. Fighters. You’ll need that.’ And then he added more quietly, ‘You’ll need that in buckets.’ He paused to light his smoke.

  Roxy stooped to pat the dog. ‘Why do you call him Six?’

  ‘That’s his numerical position.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have you heard of the six wives of Henry the Eighth?’

  Maybe,’ said Roxy, sounding a bit pissed off.

  ‘Well, this is the sixth dog of Shorty the First.’

  Roxy turned away, the grumpy look on her face making her look even younger than she was.

  ‘Don’t worry about him, girl,’ said Gigi. ‘He can’t bite, but he can give you a nasty suck.’

  Roxy turned and giggled.

  ‘How long you been here?’ asked Jazz.

  ‘I’ve been marooned here for seven long years, just like poor Ben Gunn. Abandoned by my colleagues. Left to fend for myself. Built all this myself.’ He obviously liked saying that. ‘I take nothing from the city, except what it throws away. I live on t
he crap of civilisation.’

  ‘Where did all this stuff come from?’

  ‘The bath used to be on the first floor, the rest of it all came from the streets around K. Road.’

  ‘Even that big water tank?’

  ‘Even that big water tank.’

  ‘Must have been a mission bringing that back on the supermarket trolley,’ said Sonny, taking the piss.

  ‘I didn’t actually,’ he said, getting a bit snotty. ‘I rolled it back from Newton Gully. It took most of the night.’ He turned back to Roxy, as if trying to cheer her up. ‘It’s full of rain water. If you want a hot bath just fill the tub and light a fire under it. I have offered my ablution arrangements to the Klan often enough, but they have never taken me up on it.’

  ‘Shorty’s usually in the bath at the time,’ said Gigi, ‘and I for one, do not fancy that.’ She made a funny little noise as if visualising the scene.

  ‘Well, can I offer ye a wee dram instead? I’m having some friends over later…’

  ‘Not the guy with the mouth harp?’ said Ruby, ‘and the singing guy?’

  ‘Quite possibly, one can never be sure who will turn up for our soirée, and after a few heated arguments what better than a song or two to lighten things up? Would you be familiar with “The Road to Lammermore”?’ he turned to Jazz, who shook his head.

  ‘Pity. We could do with a string section. It would anchor the melody.’

  He seemed to be about to go into further detail when Gigi cut in. ‘Well Short thing, we’d looove to stop and chat but there’s so much to do and so little time. Must dash, darling.’ She turned and sauntered back up the steps into the castle. The others followed her lead, giggling and trying not to be last one in. Shorty yelled something but it was lost in the scuffle.

  They moved back into the room with the pole.

  ‘Don’t start him going, pah-leeese. He can listen to himself talk all day, no problem.’

  ‘I reckon he’s just lonely,’ said Api.

  ‘I for one am not surprised,’ replied Gigi. ‘Men. When they reach a certain age they become so boooring.’ She turned to Sonny, with a cheesy grin on her face. ‘Never happen to you darling.’

  Sonny ignored her and turned to Jazz and Roxy. ‘Let’s find somewhere for youse.’

  He squeezed through a jammed doorway leading them down the main corridor. There was old lino on the floor, and signs on the walls saying things like ‘Muster Area’ and ‘Tool Store’. Gigi and the girls went off in the other direction. It was hard to tell which rooms were still being used because there was so much stuff lying around. Old clothes, food packets, bottles, big cardboard boxes. Some of the rooms smelled strongly of piss.

  ‘Here’s where me and Gigi stay,’ said Sonny, pointing to a bigger room.

  The thing about this room was the clothes. Everywhere. Draped over chairs, on boxes, on the floor, a clothesline full of dresses strung across the corner of the room.

  Sonny turned to Roxy, who was staring open-mouthed. ‘Yeah, I know. Gigi calls it her working wardrobe. These are the only clothes I’ve got. They do me. When I’m sick of them I just chuck’m. Get some more. Or get Ruby and Api to, they’re the pros. Api scored this last week,’ he said, pulling at the front of his Dodgers jacket.

  ‘You could do with some new clothes. No offence, but that coat looks like something Shorty’s chick would wear. Where you get? Op shop?’

  Roxy nodded.

  ‘Gotta dress for the street, otherwise you get a hard time.’ He turned to Jazz. ‘Image, bro.’

  ‘True?’

  ‘Believe it. Can’t get into half the shops, even when you’re buying stuff, eh? Guards follow you around. Watching every move. Like you’re a criminal, man.’

  They had a chuckle.

  ‘Cops been hassling you when you been playing?’

  Jazz nodded.

  ‘That’ll be why, eh? You get some good clothes No-one’ll come near you.’

  ‘We got no money for good clothes.’

  Sonny shot him a wicked grin. ‘If I got money I wouldn’t spend it on clothes. Now that’s what I call a waste of money. Money is for good times, bro. Clothes is for wearing. Get it straight.’

  They walked along the hallway. Maus had been busy here: KRK was on every surface. There were drawings too, of women’s faces, like in comics, just done with a few lines.

  ‘Did Maus do those too?’ asked Roxy. ‘They’re beautiful. I wish I could draw like that.’

  Sonny shook his head. ‘His girlfriend, Tui, done them. They’re all over the place. She never stopped. She was only here for a week or so.’

  Sonny leaned back against the wall, remembering. A mean look flashed across his face. ‘Get this, she reckoned she was raped by the cops, eh. Two of them. She was a bit nuts though. Reckoned she had rich parents. Reckoned she’d been to Hawaii. Reckoned all sorts of stuff. When Maus got smashed, she disappeared. Never seen her since.’

  Sonny spat emphatically onto one of the angel’s faces. His hand went into his jacket pocket, touching something. The change was sudden and scary. It was a while before he spoke again.

  ‘No-one’s in any of these rooms. There’s a couple up stairs too. That’s where Api and Ruby hang.’

  ‘What’s down the end there?’ asked Jazz.

  ‘That’s the tower. Maus and Tui used to stay there. Check it out.’

  At the end of the hall a door led to a five storey tower. Each level had a doorway with no door. There was an arrangement on the side where hoses used to be hung out to dry. A steel ladder ran up the wall, disappearing into a hole in each floor.

  Roxy was up the ladder before the other two had a chance to say anything. She had something in mind, that was for sure. There was nothing much in any of the rooms; the ladder and hole in the floor meant hauling stuff in there wasn’t easy. The rooms were small and each one had a big open doorway on one side. At each level there was less stuff, until on the top floor the only signs that anyone had been there were those left by Tui and Maus.

  Jazz pointed to a large drawing of a girl’s face on one wall. It was like an angel’s face, and it had a tear.

  ‘Looks like you, Rox.’

  ‘Lose the tear maybe,’ she answered.

  The view extended out past the roof tops to the harbour. The bridge was lit up with the cars threading their way across, red lights on one side, yellow on the other. In the other direction the towers in the city reared up before them. The three of them stood before the open doorway staring out and getting their breath back after the climb. It was a view to lose yourself in.

  ‘This is our room,’ said Roxy softly.

  Jazz glanced at her and nodded. If he had any second thoughts he kept them to himself.

  ‘Bit cold up here with that doorway. Long way to go for a crap, man.’ He had obviously been through this before.

  Roxy turned to him defiantly. ‘We’ll stick some plastic up on the doorway. And the other thing – it’s just timing.’

  ‘Your call, girl. Ain’t nobody’s gunna stop ya.’ Then Sonny disappeared down the ladder as if he had just remembered some urgent mission.

  Jazz turned to Roxy and put his arms around her. They stared out over the city, lost in their thoughts. It was quiet up there. The faint hum of cars on the motorway was punctuated by the occasional voice, distant and indistinct. Jazz could hear the faint wheeze of her breath brought on by the cool night air.

  ‘We’ve made it, Jazz. We’ve got somewhere. You know what?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘I’m never going back.’

  ‘Same,’ he said softly.

  It was a few days later that Roxy told Ruby that she would go to the malls with them after all. They had been on at her to join them since the first day, and since then had been bringing her presents. She felt that maybe these were just things they didn’t want but then she guessed they were doing it just for her.

  Api said they should get the bus out to St Lukes, a big mall in the burbs but Rub
y said that there was a late night at Newmarket. Jazz knew she was bored sitting with him on the streets. And to be frank she didn’t have much of a voice. But still, he was worried. It was their first time apart since they’d got together.

  ‘You be careful. Remember what happened to Maus. It’s different for the young ones.’

  ‘They got me dressing up, make-up too, so I can get into the flash places they can’t go any more. They look too rough.’

  ‘Don’t let them touch you.’ He felt uneasy.

  ‘Too late for that.’ She gave him this cheeky grin.

  ‘What?’

  ‘They get a sly one in whenever you’re not looking.’

  Jazz knew his face said it all.

  She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. ‘I’m not a baby, Jazz, I’ve known girls like Api and Ruby since I was … mmm ’bout seven years old. They’re feelers, they can’t stop, but that’s as far as it goes. Anyway,’ she said, little fist clenched, ‘I can look after myself.’

  Jazz took her wrist and had a look at her fist. ‘This is going to stop someone? Someone like Api?’ He made a fist himself. ‘Now this is different. This would do the damage.’

  She took up a boxer’s pose and came at him, jiving and weaving and then scoring wicked little jabs on the meaty part of his bicep.

  ‘Yo, stop it woman! Those hurt.’

  He crouched behind his fists defensively, like he’d seen Mike Tyson do on TV, but it made no difference. She still got through, laughing and bouncing and punching until she was stopped by a coughing fit.

  Red-faced, she leant her head against his shoulder. ‘Asthma is the only thing that will stop me.’

  ‘Yeah. Like you coulda been a contender…’ in his Rocky voice.

  ‘You got to leave the fighting to me, Jazz. You’re too scared of hurting your guitar pickin’ fingers, you know it.’ She straightened up and looked into his face. ‘Anyway I’m a … independent woman. I can look after myself, and I want my own money. I’m sick of having to use your money.’

  ‘Money money money money. Who gives a flying one about money?’