Grease Monkey Jive

by Paton, Ainslie

  “Ah Jimmy, cut it out,” Kevin admonished. “Won’t help.”

  “Thinks he’s too good. Thinks I’ll drag him down.”

  “I know you will.” Those words came out as knowledge-tempered steel.

  “That’s the trap, isn’t it, son?” Jimmy grinned crookedly. With one eye already closed and bloody, he looked demented. “We all have to pay for stuff that’s not our fault. And you and me, that’s what it’s about, right? I paid for your mother’s screw up and now you pay for mine. That’s family, that is.”

  The nurse returned. “Time to go. We need to clean Mr Maddox up.” Dan didn’t think there was any way she could do that. Jimmy was filth that wouldn’t scrub off and Dan was the rat in his trap. It was a familiar feeling, caged in, no escape, no way to come out of this without injuring himself.

  He stared Jimmy down. “Maybe I think family is different. Maybe I want to be different.”

  “Oh you’re different. You’ve got your mother in you, but you’re mine too and you’ve spent most your life trying not to be. Did you think I didn’t know that? I’ll let you in on a little secret. You abandon me now and you’ll be just like me. How do you reckon you’ll like that, son?”

  Dan didn’t get a chance to reply. The two officers were back outside the curtain and two kids would be growing up without their parents, courtesy of Jimmy Maddox.

  50. Stall

  Alex expected Dan to rage, to shout and hate and mark the territory of his pain and anger loudly and aggressively. Mitch said he might, told her to hold on. Said he’d calm down, that he wouldn’t hurt her no matter how angry he was. Mitch’s reassurance worried her more than facing Dan did.

  She’d just seen his Uncle Max pick a fight with one of the police officers a third his age and twice his size, right in the middle of the waiting room, swearing and cussing, then taking a swing with a curled fist and being restrained. The other uncle, Fred, had sidled over while the scuffle went down and leered at her, making Scott ask if he had a problem.

  And down the corridor lay Dan’s father, a drunk driver who’d killed two people and orphaned two kids.

  If Dan raged it would be reasonable, and she wanted to be there for him. She knew he’d never lose himself enough to hurt her.

  But he didn’t. Over the next week he withdrew, shut down, and she couldn’t seem to reach him, not with words, not with companionship, not with food or artificial distractions. The only response she could get out of him was physical. He held her too tight, he hugged her too long, he lost himself in her whenever he could, pouring his stress into his kisses and his agony into his love making. He unconsciously bruised her with his tension and his silence leaving her tender and confused.

  He went to work, he went to the hospital, he met with lawyers, insurance brokers, and his uncles, and he said very little. He rehearsed with her and Scott and he was intense in his focus, but his ready humour was clouded over and his eyes were dull.

  He wasn’t cold, but he chilled Alex with his indifference outside the bedroom and off the dance floor. He said he wanted her with him, but she felt oddly redundant, surplus to his needs in the face of his contained grief.

  When Jeff came back, he reacted to the difference in his owner too. Instead of wanting to be close to Dan, he kept his distance. He avoided his usual under-the-table and under-the-bed spots; he stopped leaning on Dan, following him around, and resting his head on his knee. He just watched him, keeping him in his vision whenever possible. Dan didn’t notice.

  Mitch said to give him space. Fluke said to get in his face. Alex spent more time at her own place and Dan didn’t complain.

  When Gran asked her what was wrong, she said, “He’s shut down on me and I don’t know what to do.”

  A fortnight after the accident with Jimmy now in a prison rehab hospital pending a court appearance, Alex acted. She couldn’t take Dan’s solitariness, his withdrawal any more.

  They were in his kitchen, they’d just eaten a meal Alec cooked, and were washing up. She flicked suds at him and he reached for her, but she danced away.

  “What are you doing?” he grinned, but it wasn’t in his eyes.

  “Remember how Marjorie called us provocative?”

  “So?”

  “I’m trying to provoke you.”

  “You don’t need to try. I’m perpetually provoked around you.” He reached for her again, but she jumped back.

  “Good. I want you to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About what’s in your head.”

  Dan leant back against the sink, flipped the tea towel over his shoulder, and crossed his arms and his ankles. “You want me to put you to sleep.”

  “No. Don’t be obtuse.”

  “Smart word that, obtuse. Are you sure I know what it means?”

  Alex shook her head. “Dan, you just said ‘perpetually’. You know what obtuse means.”

  “No, seriously, Alex. You’re well-educated. I never finished school. That’s a big difference between us. What you want to be, graduate programs and career ladders, and what I can be, what I can give you, they’re worlds apart.”

  She advanced on him, put her hands on his shoulders, studied his face for answers. “Where’s this coming from? I’m not asking you to give me anything.”

  “You asked what I was thinking. This is what I’m thinking.”

  “That the difference in our level of education is a problem?”

  “Yeah.”

  She ran her arms around his neck, but he didn’t uncross his so it was an awkward posture, his forearms bared across her ribs. “Ok, well. Park that. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

  “I know what you want to talk about.”

  “So?”

  Dan pushed off the sink, put his hands to Alex’s hips and set her away from him. “I don’t want you to have to hear about it. My fucking father. It’s just something I have to deal with. I don’t want you infected his stink.”

  She couldn’t read the expression in Dan’s eyes, but there was no warmth, no kindness. He hadn’t raised his voice and he didn’t seem angry, just frustrated. She’d have been happier to have him yell than react with this measured reasonableness.

  “Dan, I won’t drop you. I’m here for you.”

  “The only way I can deal with this is just to get through it. I don’t want to talk about it too.”

  “You’re closed off from me.”

  He frowned and dropped his hands from her hips. “How can you say that?” Now they were standing almost toe to toe, not touching. Jeff left the room, head and tail down.

  “Because the only time you’re all right is when we’re physically together.”

  “I thought you liked that.” Dan dragged a hand through his hair and Alex ached to follow it with her own, but if she touched him now the conversation would be over. He’d silence her with kisses she couldn’t resist and the only language he’d have for her would be their private one, murmurs and gasps, groans and sighs.

  “I love that, but I don’t like this – this silence. You’ve shut down on me.”

  He shrugged, his lips flattened in annoyance. “I’m doing the best I can. He’ll go to gaol despite the lawyers, and there are two kids who have to grow up without parents because of what he did. It wasn’t enough he made my growing up hard; he had to go wreck the lives of two more kids. And I could have stopped it and I was... I have to... I can’t talk about it, Alex. I’m so mad I don’t know what I might do.”

  That was the most he’d said about how he felt since the accident. And he wasn’t finished. “You think I’m shutting you out.”

  “Aren’t you?” She knew the answer, but did he?

  “No. Yes. Yes, I’m shutting you out of this. I’m sorry. I can’t do it any other way.”

  Now she did touch him, bringing her hand to his face to stroke his brow. “You could trust me to help you.”

  “I do trust you.”

  “Then why won’t you let me help?”


  He caught her hand and held it. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

  It might have been a protective measure, his cutting words, not that Alex felt wounded. She felt sorrow. He was still the boy who’d grown himself up and he didn’t know how to let her in. “You only need me physically.”

  Dan folded her in his arms, one arm around her waist, the other holding her head to his chest, so she heard his voice as a rumble. “I want you physically. There’s a difference.”

  “I don’t see it.”

  “I told you I’d never get over wanting you.”

  She lifted her eyes to watch him. He was holding her, but he was somewhere else. “But you don’t need me?”

  “Nope.” She pulled back further. “Alex, Don’t look at me like that.” He shook his head. “Do you want me to lie?”

  “I want you to trust me, talk to me, let me love you.”

  Alex felt Dan’s sigh travel though her body and lodge in her belly like sour fruit. He was not going to let her in.

  “My mum was killed by a drunk driver. My dad is a drunk driver who killed two people and made two kids into exactly what I once was. I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that and I’m doing the best I can.”

  Dan’s eyes were cold, his voice was stiff, and though he still smelled like fresh sea salt the taste in Alex’s mouth was dread.

  51. Breakdown Lane

  The first person Dan saw when he left the change room was Cooper. The boy was standing roughly in the spot where he and Alex had been caught on video. Dan had watched his pirated copy of that video countless times. He was rocked by the emotion that lit Alex’s face, the arch and flex of her body as it responded to his hands, her eyes flared wide, her mouth open, her breath coming in snatches. It never failed to affect him, drop his mouth open at the memory of it, and now, just being in the corridor, the scene of the crime, was getting to him. Cooper was a good distraction.

  “Coop, how goes?” He clapped the kid on the shoulder.

  “I’m nervous. I know you don’t watch the heats before you go on. I thought I should try that.”

  “You know, mate, I just do what Scott says. Don’t look at me for wisdom. I’d have to say I’m a bit short on it lately.”

  “What’s the story you’re dancing this time?”

  “Can you guess?”

  Cooper tilted his head, his eyes went up towards the ceiling, he straightened his lips in thought. “I reckon it’s a make-up routine. That’s what I’d do.”

  “Make-up?”

  “Yeah, you know how last time you were a couple fighting. Now it’ll be your make-up scene, you know all lovey-dovey, with a big dramatic kiss and all. It’ll be sick. Everyone’ll love it.”

  Dan shook his head, “I wish.”

  “No! You’re screwing with me? It’s a break-up story?” Cooper almost yelled in his excitement. “Awesome!”

  Dan just nodded, Cooper’s enthusiasm wringing him out, like he’d been held down by a monster wave and was short of breath from the pummelling.

  The accident, Jimmy’s demands, his warring uncles, trying to protect Alex from the fallout, it was all coming unravelled. There was nothing the lawyer could do to keep Jimmy out of a gaol term, his insurance wasn’t going to near cover the costs involved, the kids’ grandparents wouldn’t accept any help, and the whole business had shown Dan how wrong he’d been to try and wrap Alex into his life.

  She deserved better. He was a dumb jock grease monkey, playing at being something better. He didn’t have the education, he didn’t have the connections, and she wanted to be needed and he couldn’t do that either. Needing someone only ended up hurting you in the end. But the worst of it, he wasn’t man enough to let her go, just kept holding on to her as though she was a kind of life raft. But that had to stop. After today, Scott would be back in matching shoes and she wouldn’t need him anymore. The fact they were dancing a break up story was like a kick in the guts, because they were living it too.

  “Who dumps who?” asked Cooper.

  “She cans my ass, Coop. A player can’t keep a good girl. If I can teach you anything, I can at least teach you that.”

  Cooper said, “Awesome!”

  Alex was standing in the corridor now looking hell sexy in a short gold dress with splits to her hips. Cooper squeaked a quick, “Hi,” to Alex and a “Bye,” to Dan and scarpered.

  “You look,” Dan searched for a word and Cooper’s, “Awesome,” was front and centre on his tongue.

  “You look pretty awesome yourself.” Alex slid her arms around his chest. “Do you think Ferdy has us framed again?”

  “Be the last thing the stupid bastard does if he has,” Dan growled with more vehemence than Alex’s joking required.

  She brushed her fingertips over his lips. “Are you ok?”

  He was anything but ok. He was torn in two. He was weak and gutless, a rat caged in his family history and his own indecision. “I’m awesome.” That made her smile, but fleetingly. She kissed him softly. She knew him for a liar. That might turn out for the best.

  When they entered the arena just before their appearance, there was a ripple of excitement in the audience. They were the crowd favourite and they were the last couple to dance tonight. Now they had to deliver, do enough to score another five points so Alex and Scott had a chance to stay in the competition for the finals.

  This time there’d be no provocation. No third dancer, no tricks to confound the judges. Just a girl and a guy and the story of heartbreak. This time Dan was confident he could deliver what was needed.

  Their entrance to the floor for the number was as two separate people, the intention to show that this was a couple with problems. They’d come together in the routine, but then ultimately fall apart and end as they’d begun, as separate people on opposite sides of the floor.

  Waiting for their music to kick in, Dan steeled himself for this one last performance, part of him relieved to have gotten this far, but part of him devastated that this had to be the last time he’d dance with Alex.

  He snuck a look at her when he was supposed to be in character and ignoring her. He couldn’t help it. She glowed in her gold dress, shimmered at the centre of his vision, made his pulse thump in his throat. She was acting the part, a saucy smile, a languid look, a pout, playing up to the audience. She was confident and totally captivating and he simply couldn’t look away.

  In the seconds before their music started up, she caught him out. She turned and met his eyes and Dan was surprised the dry crack he heard in his head wasn’t audible to the rest of the stadium. In rehearsals, when she caught him looking she snapped off a comment about how pathetic he was. This time she mouthed a word. From half a dance floor away he thought it was, ‘awesome’ and the smile on her face when she said it lit a fire in his veins. He had three minutes and fifty-four seconds for it to burn out and sear the sense of her into his muscle memory. Three minutes and fifty-four seconds to breathe with her, touch her, and dance with her before the game was over.

  They’d started out rehearsing this number to Kelly Clarkson’s Stronger, but Scott switched the track just days ago to Jason Derulo’s Breathing, so now as the opening notes sounded even the song choice was out to remind him what he was going to miss, this woman, this new life he’d tried on for size and failed to fit. He would miss it with every breath.

  Three minutes and fifty-four seconds later it was only the applause that told him they’d done ok. His singlet was wet through, plastered to his chest. As the jilted lover he didn’t have to fake the heaviness he felt. He heaved a lungful of oxygen and looked around for Alex. She was breathing heavily too, her skin moist with a light lustre of perspiration, her body flushed with her triumph. She should’ve been facing away, should’ve held character, but in a dozen quick strides she was in his arms, moulded to him, folded in his heart.

  It was a break-up routine, but he kissed her passionately, lifted her off the floor and cinched her body to his. It was a
story of loss, but she dragged her fingers through his hair and laughed before she kissed him back, her exhilaration a hit with the audience who roared their approval.

  They stayed on the floor, lost in each other as the other couples joined them for the judge’s results to be read. At the sound of Barry Barton’s voice, Dan released Alex, but he keep her hand in his and she stayed close to his side. There was this to get through.

  He blanked Barry out; he glazed over the faces of the other couples, dimming his awareness of their reactions to their scores. He willed himself to go numb, to focus only on the feeling of having Alex at his side. In his near anesthetised state he missed Barry’s deadly drone intoning their score. But Alex repeated it – a seven, more than they needed, more than they could’ve hoped for. It washed past him and he didn’t snap to until Anna grabbed Alex to hug her and he felt Brad’s hand on his back.

  It was over.

  He didn’t wait for Alex. He left the floor, ignored Scott and the boys, and made for the change room. Now there was just one more thing to do and it gave him two left feet and indigestion from the black weight in his gut. If he’d known this is what it would feel like to love someone you couldn’t keep, he’d never have tried to change. The old way where things were clearly temporary was better. No one got this cut up.

  He was under the shower, running the water hot and hard, when he heard Cooper’s voice call from just outside in the change room.

  “Dan, that was awesome! That score is enough that Alex could still win. Totally out of this world wicked.”

  If he didn’t answer, maybe Copper would go away. He put his head further under the stream, closed his eyes, and let the water fill his ears, but he still heard the indictment Fluke threw at him.

  “You’re about to do something stupid!”

  He turned the tap off, wrapped a towel around his waist, but stayed inside the shower area. “No. I’m about to correct a mistake.” His voice echoed, too loud against the damp tiles, not loud enough to stop the argument coming.