Noah's Law

by Randa Abdel-Fattah

  I shrugged. ‘What’s this case about?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I just copy.’

  I shook my head and flicked through the contents of the manila folder opened in front of me on the photocopier. ‘Aren’t you even curious? You’re the one who wants to be a lawyer – well isn’t this your chance to see how it all works?’

  ‘Look, I don’t have time to read through the files. Casey dumps them on me all the time. I do know that they’re usually personal injury cases. You know, people slipping on a spilt milkshake in a shopping centre and hurting themselves. Losing a finger in a machine at work.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Getting stuck in a turnstile in the entrance to a shop and pulling a back muscle.’

  ‘Woah. Can you imagine how fat that person would have been to get stuck in a turnstile?!’

  ‘I saw her actually. She was huge . . . God, that’s mean.’

  ‘So this file I’m copying now. What’s it about?’

  ‘You can read – check it out yourself. But we’re on a deadline. Casey needs this all by tomorrow or we’re seriously in trouble. You haven’t seen her mad.’

  ‘So what I’ve seen so far is happy?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t do happy. She does frustrated, stressed, annoyed, condescending, dismissive and mad. If you can get her on a frustrated day, count your blessings. It’s her best mood.’

  Jacinta kicked the photocopier and swore. ‘I hate it when it jams!’

  ‘Casey sounds like my maths teacher. Move over, let me have a look.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Jacinta muttered, and crouched down to fix the paper jam.

  We didn’t talk much for the rest of the afternoon. I found out some things in the small pockets of time we had to chat. Jacinta grew up in Canberra. Her dad was born in Indonesia, and he worked as a lawyer with the Indonesian embassy. Her mum had an Italian background and was a teacher. Jacinta was enrolled to study law at Sydney University and had moved to Sydney in late November getting a job at Aunt Nir-vine’s firm shortly after she arrived. She’d been renting a flat with another girl in Surry Hills. The only problem was that the girl had a pet rat she kept in a cage in the kitchen and she had a chronic case of BO (the flatmate, not the rat), so Jacinta was on the hunt for a new place and a rat-free, odourless flatmate.

  That was about all the information I got out of her. She was right. There was a heap of documents to get through. Sometimes the photocopier jammed and I felt like hurling it against the wall. By four o’clock I’d had enough. I went into the kitchen, got a tablespoon, grabbed the tin of Milo, sat down at the table and crammed mouthfuls of crunchy chocolate into my mouth. John, one of the lawyers I’d met earlier in the day, walked in, looked at me and chuckled. I gave him a sheepish smile. My teeth were full of chocolate and I guessed my mouth was smudged with chocolate too.

  ‘Healthy,’ he said as he made himself a cup of herbal tea. Apparently he was the youngest lawyer in the firm and had only been practising for two years. ‘So how was your first day? I suppose Casey’s breaking all the award minimum standards?’

  ‘I don’t know what that means,’ I said, helping myself to another spoon of Milo, ‘but I know that you’ve all got the most boring jobs on the planet.’

  Amused, he said, ‘Let me tell you something – most of us started at the photocopier. You’ve got to see it as an art form. Getting the image at an exact angle. Avoiding smudges. Making sure the staples are at perfect right angles.’

  I laughed. ‘Right, perfect right angles. I knew I was missing something. So do you like working here?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Good bunch of people, interesting work. We have our good times, dude. Swing by my office later this week. I’ll give you some real legal work.’

  John wasn’t so bad. But using the word ‘dude’ just said nerd all over.

  ‘So when will we be meeting for lunch?’ Dad asked me at dinner.

  ‘We won’t,’ I said, attacking my chicken. I was starving. All that photocopying had worked up my appetite.

  ‘And why not?’

  ‘Because it’s not very cool, Dad,’ Nadine explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

  ‘No, it’s not that,’ I said. ‘You’re punishing me for six weeks. I’m not at Aunt Nirvine’s because I want to be so I can’t pretend we can just casually enjoy lunch and talk about the weather when being at that firm is the last place I want to be during my school holidays.’

  ‘Hmm, that puts it in perspective,’ Dad said. ‘I appreciate your honesty. Well can you at least share with us how your first day in the adult working world went?’

  ‘It was slave labour. Trust lawyers to violate human rights and international law.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t as grave a situation as that.’

  ‘A practising lawyer called me dude.’

  Dad clucked his tongue. ‘Appalling,’ he said, trying to hold back a smile.

  ‘So is this Jacinta girl good-looking?’ Amit asked me on the phone later that evening.

  ‘Yeah. She’s half Indonesian, half Italian, and totally hot. She has a nice smile too. But she doesn’t smile that often.’

  ‘So, she’s seventeen?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Ah . . . older women. They’re so much better.’

  ‘You moron, you haven’t even been out with a girl before let alone an older woman.’

  ‘Hey! What about Rachel?’

  ‘Primary school doesn’t count. Far out, Amit, can we focus here? My life is over. It’s nine o’clock and I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m thinking about whether I’ve got a shirt ironed for tomorrow and I’m stressing about whether I stuffed up the pagination on the photocopies. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be feeling like this for at least another ten years! What the hell is going on? Ironed shirts, Amit! Amit, you moron, are you there?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, give me a sec . . . Mum, I’m on the phone! No I didn’t leave the towel on the floor, it was Siraj! Sorry, Noah. She’s on my back because Siraj and I’ve been home all day and the house is a mess. I was too busy watching the special edition De Niro DVD collection to clean up. Did you know that De Niro is a method actor? That means—’

  ‘Alright, I get it. Talk about rubbing it in. I’ve got to get to bed.’

  ‘You can’t be serious. It’s still early.’

  ‘There’s a huge deadline tomorrow so Jacinta wants me in at eight to help her before she heads off to a house inspection.’

  ‘Are you getting paid for this?’

  ‘Dad wanted it to be voluntary but Aunt Nirvine said she’d pay me fifty bucks a day.’

  ‘Woah. Unreal.’

  ‘That works out to be about six bucks an hour. Your cousins probably get paid more in the factories in Bangladesh!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, man. My aunt and uncle own a factory in Bangladesh. Do you want me to find out how much they pay their workers?’

  ‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Amit. I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Hey, this case is pretty interesting,’ I said to Jacinta the next morning while we were at the photocopiers.

  ‘I don’t have time for interesting. I’ve got to be at a house inspection in forty minutes.’

  ‘Sheez. My mum keeps going on and on about how it’s us guys who can’t multi-task. So copy and listen.’

  Jacinta chuckled. ‘Fine. I’m listening. Just don’t expect me to gasbag all morning. If I miss this inspection I’m dead. Do you know how many people are in the rental market now? You could advertise a dog kennel and you’d get a queue of potential tenants.’

  ‘Well it says here that this woman went to the movies and decided to get some popcorn halfway through. When she got back she forgot to pull the seat back down before she sat and she fell, which would have been hilarious to watch by the way. So Casey’s suing the movie theatre for not putting a warning sign. What does she expect the sign would say? Warning: Idiots May Fall?’

  ‘I once smashed into the glass doors of a s
hop. Do you think there should have been a sign? Warning: Highly Effective Cleaning Products May Cause Injury.’

  We got the giggles.

  My phone beeped, indicating I had a message. It was Amit.

  Morning waves @ Coogee r sick. Make like u got the ?u and come

  ova.

  Great. Just what I needed for motivation. There were still hours left until five. Meanwhile, I’d be copping paper cuts while Amit was riding waves and working on a tan. The self-pity was choking me.

  ‘Okay, enough messing around,’ Jacinta said eventually. ‘And that’s probably too much cynicism for one morning. We’re at a law firm. Of course there’ll be bogus claims and genuine ones. Now let’s shut up and finish or we won’t have a job. Well,’ she added, noticing how relaxed I was, ‘I’ll have no job. You’re probably wishing you’d get the sack.’

  ‘I could easily manage that. Problem is I’m not sure what Dad would have in mind as my next punishment. His capacity for thinking up ways to ruin my holidays is terrifying.’

  Aunt Nirvine was suddenly standing at the door, a warm smile on her face. ‘You’re in early, Noah,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think you’d fall for us that easily!’

  ‘It’s the photocopier jams,’ I said drily, unable to disguise my tone. ‘I couldn’t resist.’

  ‘Aha, your father’s sense of humour I can see.’

  Was she kidding?

  ‘Could I ask you to do a coffee run for me? I’d like a decaf weak skim soy latte. John wants a flat white with two sugars and Casey a short black with four sugars.’

  ‘We’ve got to finish this photocopying by nine or Casey will get her broomstick out and chase us around the office.’

  Jacinta looked embarrassed. Aunt Nirvine’s jaw dropped.

  I offered Aunt Nirvine a goofy smile. ‘Um . . . joke . . .?’

  She cleared her throat. ‘Well, I can’t accept those kinds of comments in my office, Noah,’ she said in a low voice. ‘This is not a school playground. This is a professional environment and speaking behind a colleague’s back in a derogatory fashion will not be tolerated. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  This was humiliating. Worse than school even. What was it about me that made family members overreact? I was the teenager. I was the one who was supposed to be suffering the hormonal imbalance.

  ‘Well finish your photocopying task and then get some petty cash from Jill. Go to George’s not Café Deluxe, please. Their soy always tastes like curdled milk.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’ Jacinta asked when Aunt Nirvine had left. ‘No wonder you’re in trouble at school.’

  ‘Hey, lighten up. I was just saying what everybody thinks.’

  ‘Well welcome to the adult world, Noah, where nobody says what they think. You’ve got to learn to be fake. Do you see me calling Casey a stuck-up, sadistic cow to her face? Do you see me telling her that I can understand why her husband left her or offering her a mint with her photocopying to cure her stinking chain-smoker breath? No. I smile and do the bimbo-giggle when she talks to me and I act like she’s a normal human being. And she knows I hate her and I know she knows I hate her but we pretend to get on because that’s what adults do.’

  ‘You’re seventeen,’ I said rolling my eyes. ‘You were in school two months ago.’

  ‘I’ve always been more mature than my age. Plus, I’m female, so I’ve got years of maturity on you.’

  ‘Well, Miss Pensioner, I’ll enjoy saying what’s on my mind for as long as I can get away with it.’

  ‘But you can’t get away with it. Your aunt was pissed off. She’s not going to let you get off that easily if you talk like that again.’

  I let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Man, I am so sick of this place and it’s only day two. I can’t believe I’ve got another six weeks.’

  ‘Well, you’re stuck here so you just have to put up with it,’ she said matter-of-factly.

  Amit’s message compounded with Aunt Nirvine’s meltdown got under my skin. I mean really got under my skin. It was all just eating away at the layers of epidermis as the reality of my situation hit me. Photocopying endless piles of paper for another six weeks. Receiving text messages from Amit bragging about hitting the waves at the beach. I felt like the pressure was mounting inside of me.

  Enough was enough.

  ‘He can’t make me stay here,’ I said. ‘Nobody can. I’m through with this.’

  I threw the file I was holding onto the table and stormed out of the room, ignoring Jacinta who was calling after me to grow up and come back.

  ‘And where are you going?’ Jill asked as I stomped past the reception desk. ‘You’ve forgotten to take the petty cash.’

  ‘Keep it. Use it to buy everybody here a personality. I’m out of here.’

  I slammed the door behind me and rushed down the fire-exit stairs, not bothering to wait for the lift. When I left the building the fresh air hit my face. I went to the nearest takeaway shop and bought myself a chocolate bar and a can of Coke. I sat on a nearby bench and scoffed the chocolate bar and emptied that can of Coke faster than the time it took to flick it open. The sugar hit was fantastic.

  I called Amit.

  ‘Did the flu thing work?’

  ‘Even better. I quit.’

  ‘How can you quit if you weren’t even an employee?’

  ‘Yeah, well, I walked out, whatever. I’m over it.’

  ‘Your dad’s going to kill you. Take you to the High Court or set the governor-general on you. Something weird like that.’

  ‘I don’t care. What are you doing so early at the beach?’

  ‘Dad dropped me and Siraj off on his way to a job nearby.’

  ‘Terrific. I’m really happy for you guys.’

  ‘So catch the train and meet us here.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll see.’

  I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do. Quitting the firm would definitely send Dad into a rage. He might make me copy out transcripts of parliamentary sessions or his favourite court judgments for the rest of my life. (He’d once made me copy out a case on personal responsibility after my friends and I blocked the school gates and driveway with all the rubbish bins we’d collected from around the school.)

  I changed the subject. ‘So have you guys organised anything more with the Terrigal trip yet?’

  ‘Nah, not much. Luke’s brother said he’ll drive us up in his van. Hakim’s parents said we can use their holiday house for the two nights but Hakim’s older brothers have to be there, which is a bummer. Apparently they’re real nerds. Anyway, I thought your dad wasn’t letting you come.’

  ‘He’s going to torture me with a hearing in six weeks and then decide if he’ll let me go. Hey, I’ve got to go, I’ve got another call.’

  I switched calls. It was Aunt Nirvine. Great.

  ‘Noah?’

  ‘Hey, Aunt Nirvine.’ I figured I’d play dumb.

  ‘Jacinta tells me you’ve gone down to get the coffees but that you forgot the petty cash. Just make sure you get a receipt and Jill will reimburse you.’

  ‘Er . . .’

  ‘Oh and Casey’s going to court in half an hour. I’ve asked her to take you along to watch. It’s not a trial, just a directions hearing, but it will be interesting for you. It’s at the Supreme Court.’

  My ears pricked up. If anything was going to make this torturous sentence remotely worthwhile it would be the chance to go to court.

  ‘Okay, see you back here soon,’ Aunt Nirvine continued. ‘And remember – George’s, not Café Deluxe!’

  ‘Er . . . yeah . . . okay.’

  Why hadn’t I said no? I was stuck now. I had to return to the office. So much for quitting in a blaze of glory. Anyway, as much as I was dying to quit, I couldn’t predict how Dad would react if I did. I’d pushed his buttons heaps over the years. And his punishments were getting worse. All this from a guy who used to defend murderers and rapists. I was wrapping desks in foils or raising students’ self-esteem wi
th boosted-up marks. Talk about needing some bloody perspective.

  I was pretty embarrassed by my tantrum back at the office. Thinking about the way I’d done a runner from Jacinta made me groan. She’d really think I was a kid now.

  I thought about what Jacinta had done as I ordered a strong soy cappuccino for Aunt Nirvine, a skim latte for Casey and a decaf flat white for John. I couldn’t understand why she’d covered for me. Would I lose face by returning? The chance to go to court – a real court – was so tempting though. No meat tenderisers or wooden chopping boards. Real judges, real cases.

  I wasn’t selling out, I told myself as I carried the coffees back to the office. If I didn’t like it I’d be out of there and deal with Dad in my own way. Anyway, I was already in the city so I might as well stay. I could go to the beach with Amit another time. Anyway, I wasn’t dressed to hook up with them today. I was dressed for court.

  At the reception desk I gave Jill the receipt and put down the coffee tray.

  ‘So you decided to come back?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, you can open the champagne to celebrate later.’

  She laughed. ‘How do you walk around with that much attitude sitting on your shoulders?’

  ‘All those workout sessions at the gym,’ I answered. ‘There are many advantages to being this beefed up. Now can I have my money, please?’

  ‘Here you go, wise guy,’ she said and smiled at me. ‘Oh and by the way,’ she added in a whisper, after I’d pocketed the money and picked up the coffee tray, ‘Jacinta told me about the broomstick comment. Gold.’

  Startled, I stared at her blankly, but then she winked at me and I couldn’t help but grin.

  Casey came out of her office and almost bumped into me. ‘My coffee?’ she demanded.

  I passed it to her. She took a sip and sputtered.

  ‘I ordered a short black. What the hell is this?’

  ‘A skim latte?’

  ‘Do I look like I need fat-free milk?’ she snapped. She opened the lid. ‘Anyway, I don’t drink lattes – I’m lactose intolerant. I’ll have to go to court without a coffee fix, I suppose. Well, don’t be surprised if I’m in a bad mood.’