Grease Monkey Jive

by Paton, Ainslie

“No. It’d kill him. He thinks it’s some private investor.”

  “Why’d you buy it?”

  “He was good to me. When I was a kid, he taught me stuff, gave me a job. He got me out of trouble a few times with the cops. He needed a retirement plan. I needed an investment. I didn’t want to embarrass the bloke. It’s only a year or two till he retires.”

  “Fuck, don’t you think now might be a good time to tell him?”

  “No. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

  “Meanwhile you’re happy to go AWOL and have him think something’s wrong with you.”

  Dan didn’t answer. He sat in the open doorway of the Kombi and wished they’d fuck off and leave him alone.

  Mitch was on a mission now. “What happened with Alex?”

  “Nothing. We were done. It was time.”

  “Bullshit, Dan. You weren’t done. Was he done, Fluke?”

  Fluke joined Mitch’s mission. “He’s fucked up and that was before he started wasting himself. Did you know Jimmy was sentenced today?”

  “I heard.” Dan could tell this was news to Mitch and Ant from the look they exchanged.

  Fluke was Jeff with a dried pig’s ear, not letting go. “You didn’t think you should be there?”

  “Jimmy can fend for himself. I’m just his bank and since he won’t need a bank for the next two years, I didn’t see the point in going.” He stood up. “I’m cold. Jeff’s hungry. I’m going inside. Much as I love you all, fuck off and leave me alone.”

  But Mitch was still on high alert. He wasn’t finished with this yet. “What’s with the drugs, Dan? You don’t like drugs.”

  “I’m not high.” But if it wasn’t for the fact he hated the way the local dealers sneered at him after years of avoiding them, even chasing their custom away, he might still have been.

  “But you’re using something other than booze. Not even Jimmy did drugs.”

  “Yeah Mitch, that’s right, not even fucking Jimmy. He’s done so well, given me such a good example I figured I’d improve on the basic model.” Dan flung his arms wide. “I’m Jimmy Maddox 2.0.”

  Mitch went to have another go, but Dan was inside the Kombi now with his hand on the door lever. “Fuck off and leave me alone.” He slammed the door in their faces.

  Fluke said, “Who wants first watch?”

  55. Ghosts

  She hadn’t left much. A toothbrush, a lipstick, a bottle of fancy shampoo, a couple of t-shirts. Not much to show she’d been in his life. It was the book that made him think to pack up her stuff. She might need it for uni. He had one of those green shopping bags and he filled it with her gear. It was the right thing to do.

  Not that he was going to see her.

  He already saw her every day when he wasn’t numbed out. She hadn’t left much, but her presence was everywhere in the flat. He saw her curled in his bed, leaning into the fridge for the milk, washing up at the sink, studying at the kitchen table. She was snuggled on the sofa and singing in the shower. She was kissing him in the hallway and by the stove, and she was laughing and fresh and real and a ghost. That was fitting somehow. He’d first seen her, really seen her, as some kind of ethereal spirit. It seemed reasonable she’d be haunting him now. That’s why he’d quit the flat for the Kombi. He was spooked by the ghost.

  He packed his own bag and emptied the fridge. He’d called McMurty, explained he needed more leave, and weathered being shouted at. He was going to shoot-through for a while with Jeff. It was the only way he could get rid of his escort.

  For the last three nights, one of the boys had been parked on the promenade beside the Kombi keeping watch. It was crazy stupid. They took shifts. They really thought he was going to do himself harm and, for some dumbass reason, they assumed he’d wait till night when they were there to prevent it.

  They just didn’t realise he’d already done it.

  Ant was first. Dan didn’t know he was there til near morning when he let Jeff out for a run before anyone could complain about a dog on the beach. He pounded on the bonnet of Ant’s Alfa to wake him, handed him a coffee, and told him to fuck off.

  He hadn’t realised they had a roster till Mitch showed up the next night. They argued, talked nonsense, got drunk, and Mitch slept beside him on the Kombi’s double bed. He was ready for Fluke, had a barbeque chicken and a salad for his dinner. They argued too, Fluke going on at him to admit he was in love with Alex and too scared to do anything about it. Fluke wouldn’t drink with him so he helped himself and Fluke must have figured he wasn’t in any position to top himself, because in the morning he was gone.

  But this couldn’t keep happening, so it was time to check out for a while. He’d go up the coast and chase the surf. Maybe, with some distance, living with a ghost might be easier to take.

  His head thumped and he suspected if he took his sunglasses off he might throw up. At least it was just booze doing this to him. He had to walk to the studio; he didn’t trust he was good to drive. He took Jeff, who pranced around like it was new bone day, and timed it so that he wouldn’t see either Alex or Scott. He was ready for whatever Trevor wanted to dish out as the best of a bad bunch of shit he deserved.

  Trevor was on the phone when he got there, but signalled him to wait. He sat on the bench seat and tried not to see more ghosts.

  “What happened to you? You don’t look good, Dan. What can I do to help?”

  He’d been prepared for Trevor to shout, go all wild-cat and scratch his eyes out for hurting Alex. He wasn’t ready for this show of compassion, for the concern he saw in Trevor’s face. It nearly undid him.

  “I brought a bunch of stuff for Alex. I figured I could leave it here for her.”

  “Dan, talk to me.”

  “Nothing to say, Trev.”

  “Like fun. You look like you’ve been to hell, like you’re still there. And she’s off on some fantasy trip about being a fool for not expecting you’d dump her. What’s going on with you?”

  Dan had spent the best part of two weeks avoiding this conversation and he didn’t want to have it now either. It was done, it didn’t bear examining, but if Alex was blaming herself, that wasn’t good.

  “What did she say?”

  “What I just said, that she was a fool for falling in love with you, that she should’ve known better.”

  His head still thumped and now his chest hurt too. “Is that all?”

  “She also said something like, ‘you can’t get angry with a dog if it bites you’. Does that mean anything to you?”

  Dan shook his head, a bad move, along with coming here, a worse move. He was full of them lately.

  Trevor continued, “I think she means it’s in a dog’s nature to bite.”

  That made sense. “She means it was in my nature to dump her.” Hopefully she’d remember him for the dog he was and quit blaming herself for how it went down. He remembered she’d blamed herself for the problems with Phil too.

  “Ah,” said Trevor. “It’s bullshit.”

  Dan almost laughed. Trevor never swore. “It’s a good enough reason.”

  “Bend me over and fuck me sideways, Dan. You love that girl. Anyone can see it. Everyone did. What’s wrong with you that you can’t see it? And don’t you sit there and try to tell me you don’t want to be with her. I’m not buying it.”

  “It’s better for her this way.”

  “You think this is better for Alex? She’s like a brittle piece of glass blown too thin. I keep waiting for her to break. She’s all glittery false cheer and ‘oh I’ll get over it and he was all wrong for me’. She thinks if she says it often enough it might be real.”

  Dan stood, trying to keep his voice level. “This is better. She’s strong. She’ll be fine.”

  “You’re Janelle Maddox’s son. That women was brave and so, so full of love. Maybe you’ve forgotten where you come from, Dan. Maybe you need to be reminded. Well, I’m reminding you. You’re a good man. You were good for Alex. She was good for you. This not right for each other t
hing is crap. You get yourself together and fast and you go patch it up with her.”

  “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I hardly remember Mum. I’m not like her.”

  “Then choose to be you, Dan. Make your own rules up. You already know in your heart what’s right and wrong. And what you don’t know, you and Alex can work out together. But don’t make this lie your life. It’ll ruin you. It’ll ruin her.”

  Dan slapped his leg to get Jeff’s attention. He had to get out of here. Trevor didn’t get it, no one did. He was infected with Jimmy. If the last two weeks hadn’t proven that, what other evidence did he need?

  Trevor held his hand out to Jeff and the traitor mutt went to him, tail wagging and tongue lolling. He lifted his head up for a scratch under the jaw.

  “Nice dog. Has he ever bitten anyone?”

  “God, no.”

  Trevor reached out and patted Dan on his cheek. “Not in his nature then.”

  “Sweet Jesus, you’re bored with me!”

  Scott was shocked, but he knew it was right. Alex was bored. They’d had a new routine almost locked down but Scott wasn’t feeling it.

  First he thought it was his fault. The whole falling over his own feet thing and breaking his ankle had done some damage to his confidence, so he was a little more hesitant – bugger – a lot more hesitant than he’d ever been and hesitant had never been his thing.

  Then he thought it might’ve been the routine, something about it not firing, or the music choice not being surprising enough. He took it apart and put it back together again, and it was better, but it was still flat and unexciting. And they’d need more than that. They’d gotten to this point with a bigger score than they’d hoped for, but it was a long way from a winning one.

  They’d finished a run through for Trevor and Alex was sitting quietly on the floor waiting for his comments when it’d struck Scott what was wrong and he’d blurted it out.

  “Of course I’m not bored with you,” she said.

  “You are. I’m predictable and safe and not thinking about how I want to get you naked.”

  “Yuck, Scott!”

  “I’m not Dan. That’s the problem.”

  “There’d be a problem if you were.”

  “No. That’s the whole thing. You’ve gotten used to dancing with him. You had to be extra vigilant, extra watchful, you had to cover for him. It made you sharper. You’re bored and unhappy with unsurprising, harmless me.”

  Alex appealed to Trevor with a look and a raised hand and Trevor said, “Scott’s right. We’ve got a chemistry problem.”

  Scott put his arm over his eyes dramatically as if to block out the uncomfortable truth. “See. That’s what I just said.”

  “You’re wrong.” Alex came to her feet, looking at Scott. “We’ve always had good chemistry. We’d hardly have done so well as partners if we hadn’t.” She took his hand. “I love dancing with you. Don’t get all spooked on me now.”

  “I am spooked. Dan is a bloody spectre. I can’t get the picture of the two of you dancing out of my head. I’m so busy trying to be like him, I’ve forgotten how to be myself.”

  “That’s a complete crock of shit, Scott. He was a pretender. You’re the real thing. I had to work harder to dance with him because he didn’t know what he was doing. I can enjoy it all with you.”

  “You don’t look like you’re enjoying it, Alex,” said Trevor.

  Now it was Alex who covered her eyes, running her hand across them and pressing down. She could feel tears starting to irritate under her lids. She didn’t want to talk about dancing with Dan. She didn’t want to think about Dan or say his name or hear it said. And trying not to pretend Scott’s hands and arms were Dan’s was making her feel heavy and stiff. She could dance the steps, but she couldn’t give them the expression they needed.

  She squeezed her eyes tight closed. “I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

  “Have you spoken to him?” Trevor asked and Alex decided pretending ignorance would be childish.

  “No and I’ve no intention of contacting him.”

  “He was here today.”

  “What did he want?” Scott got the words out while they were still forming in Alex’s head. The idea of Dan coming here again was a prick of fear in her belly, a sharp, nasty thrill to her heart.

  “He brought things you’d left at his place. They’re in a green bag in the office. Had his dog with him.”

  “Jeff,” she whispered.

  “Nice dog. Never bitten anyone.”

  “Who cares about the damn dog?” fumed Scott. “What did he want?”

  “Alex knows what I mean about the dog and he didn’t want anything. In fact it was like being here gave him a rash; he could hardly keep still. He didn’t look good. I want you to tell me again what went wrong with you two and why you won’t talk to him.”

  Scott gave Trevor a look that said, ‘warning, warning’, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “It’s not important, Trevor.”

  “It’s the only thing that’s important right now, Alley cat.”

  “Not to me.”

  “Ok then, to me, to Scott, to the routine. You can’t dance with Scott because you haven’t gotten Dan out of your system and there’s a reason for that.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with Dan. I’m just tired.”

  “How many boyfriends has your partnership with Scott survived?”

  Scott grinned. “Good question. I know. And I can tell you which ones were just dalliances and which ones were serious.”

  “Dalliances,” Alex breathed, amazed at Scott’s word choice, embarrassed at the turn of the conversation. “It hardly matters because I didn’t dance with any of them, so they couldn’t come between us.”

  “Exactly,” said Trevor.

  “You’re ganging up on me,” Alex said and knew she sounded like a pitiful schoolgirl facing the alpha bitch pack. There’d be no mercy until she cooperated.

  “Alley cat, you keep saying you’re glad he dumped you, that you should’ve expected it. You keep saying it was a good thing, but neither of us understands why you think that and you’re clearly not over him. You’re dragging yourself around like a dead thing, all the life sucked out of you,” said Scott.

  Alex sat back down on the floor, cross-legged, schoolgirl-like. Scott came and sat behind her, put his legs to the outside of hers and pulled her back against his chest. She fought him for a beat or two, trying to remain stiff-backed, but the weight of his arms and the strength of his comfort defeated her and she melted back into him. The tears rolled down her cheeks and her shoulders shook as she tried to suppress the sobs that followed them.

  56. Clearer

  Winter seas. The water was clearer, cleaner, cold, and shocking, and it did good things to his head, froze out the need to get so trashed. Dan ate better, slept better, and worked his body with surfing, sand sprints, and marathon runs along the highway from one sleepy, half-shuttered seaside town to another. He got a winter tan. He got a few books read. He avoided his phone, but answered emails using dodgy Wi-Fi in cosy cafés with good coffee. He made decisions.

  Four weeks later, the night Jeff curled up on the Kombi bed with him, he knew he’d turned a corner. If he’d worried the boys, he’d scared Jeff into reticence and cowardice. Not enough to leave him, even Jeff was dumb like that, but enough to put a space between them. Now Jeff trusted him again, so it was time to go home.

  As soon as he opened the front door of the flat, he knew the ghost was still there, but she didn’t seem to overwhelm him anymore. Now it was kind of soothing to feel her presence, to know he hadn’t dreamed her up in his fogged-out state. They might be able to co-exist until eventually he wouldn’t need to feel her any more. He had no idea when that would be.

  He went back to work. He told McMurty about owning the business, nearly knocking the bloke past retirement into his final decline. They agreed to hire a new lead me
chanic and Dan would come and go as he pleased rather than holding down a regular shift. McMurty kept looking at him and shaking his head in disbelief, but Dan liked it that he never apologised for riding him about jobs or favours. When he was at the garage he devoted himself to rebuilding Fluke’s Charger, not sparing any expense on finding parts, re-doing the interiors, and ordering customised spray painting. When he wasn’t at the garage, he surfed, moving beach to beach, chasing the best waves, spending hours out there, coming in only to get warm, eat, and go back out.

  He called the boys and all was forgiven. They didn’t talk about it, just accepted he was ok, back from whatever self destructive head space he’d been in. But he knew he had work to do with them. He’d been strange and weird and freaked them out, and they didn’t share Jeff’s conviction things were back to normal. Neither did he. He was still a wreck, a work in progress, and he wasn’t yet road worthy.

  The day Fluke’s car was ready to test drive he called Mitch and they went for a burn.

  Mitch stroked his hand covetously over the white leather interior. “Flukey’s going to freak out. So am I, right now, if you don’t let me drive her. Pull the hell over. Why won’t you take any more than the bet money from Ant and me?”

  “I don’t need it. Fluke’s bet money goes into rego and insurance and despite how Jimmy trashed my finances I’ve got money in the bank.”

  “How much?”

  “Rude bugger.”

  Mitch grunted his instruction to pull over. When they’d changed seats and Mitch was behind the wheel and back in the traffic, Dan said, “I thought we might go into business.”

  Mitch’s head did a quarter-turn until he was staring at Dan.

  “If you smash this girl on the first ride, I’ll have you.”

  Mitch looked back at the road ahead. “This car’s no girl; she’s all woman. Now what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You and me and McMurty’s.”

  “Listening and driving. Enjoying the wheels more.”

  “It’s prime real estate. It should be units or town houses, maybe with a shop or a restaurant where the garage is now.”