The Legend of Kevin the Plumber

by Scot Gardner

  I was in my room playing Halo on Sharon’s Xbox when a car pulled into the driveway. Doors slammed. I could see Grandad’s skid-mark brown Fairmont through my window.

  ‘Gary!’ Mum hollered. ‘Get in here, now.’

  I paused the game and found Mum in the kitchen. ‘What?’

  ‘Clean up your bloody mess,’ she said.

  Yep, nice to see you, too.

  Sharon stepped past me and rolled her eyes. I put some hot water and bubbly stuff into the sink and washed my plate and knife. I’d almost finished wiping the bench when Grandad appeared in the doorway. Not the best medicine for a hangover.

  ‘You’d make someone a lovely wife some day, Gary.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ I spat.

  He heard me.

  ‘What did you say? What did you just say?’

  ‘I told you to fuck off,’ I said. ‘Pull your fucken head in.’

  ‘Gary!’ Mum squealed. ‘Get in here, NOW!’

  I shoved past Grandad and into the bathroom where Mum was pointing at my clothes and towel on the floor.

  ‘I just finished picking up your putrid bloody work clothes and washing them. That is not where these belong, is it?’

  I grabbed an armload of the party clothes I’d slept in and dumped them on my bed. Mum had followed me into the room. She grabbed my sleeve. Her voice was an acid whisper. ‘Don’t you EVER talk to your grandfather like that again. Do you understand me?’

  I shook her off.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘I wish someone would knock that bloody chip off your shoulder you arrogant little —’

  ‘You’re bagging the wrong person,’ I said. ‘Grandad’s the one who starts it every time. He hates me and I hate him. He’s hated me ever since I was born. Before I was born. Haven’t you noticed? Maybe you should learn to live with it like I have.’

  ‘Oh, it’s never your fault.’

  Grandad stood in the doorway. ‘Little bastard’s just like his father,’ he said.

  ‘Dad, keep out of it.’

  ‘Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off. Out. Get out of my room. Go. Move.’

  I pushed Mum’s shoulder and she slapped me.

  I knew it was coming. It made me suck a breath but I kept pushing her. Grandad backed away and Mum clawed at the doorframe.

  ‘Out. Get out. Move.’

  I kept pushing. Her nails bit into the wood and I pushed harder. I slammed the door and it hit her foot and let out a crack. I forced her foot back and kept closing the door.

  ‘Shift. Piss off. Leave me alone.’

  They were both shouting my name. Mum’s hands pulled out of the doorframe and I slammed it. Slid the bolt home and rolled onto the bed.

  They banged and shouted that I should open up. I lay there and smiled.

  I hit redial on the phone. Still no answer.

  The banging stopped. I could hear crying. Sharon was crying. Then she was shouting. ‘Why can’t you just leave him alone? Why do you have to fight all the time? You’re destroying the family. Why can’t you leave him alone?’

  I could hear them all talking in the lounge room. I could hear their voices but not their words.

  Mum tapped politely on the door half an hour later.

  ‘Gary?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t cope with this anymore.’

  ‘I’m onto it. I’m moving out. Two weeks and I’ll be out of here.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Queensland.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘And live where? And more to the point, do what?’

  ‘Dad said I could stay at his place for as long as I want.’

  ‘Great. Good idea,’ Mum said sweetly. ‘Maybe you could get a job with him too . . . ’

  ‘Yeah, I will.’

  ‘And at the end of your four-month apprenticeship, you’ll get a certificate that says you’re a fully qualified loser with needle tracks up your arm. The works.’

  ‘Whatever,’ I said. ‘At least he’s doing something with his life.’

  ‘You don’t know him, Gary. He’s sick. You’d be lucky to last one day with him.’

  ‘Better than living in this shithole until I die.’

  She was quiet for a long time then her words came through the door. They were flat, no emotion. ‘Go for it, Gary. Go for it.’

  Twenty

  Ash looked over my shoulder when I arrived at the bungalow. It was after ten o’clock. She was in her pyjamas. So was my sister. She’d followed me across the road.

  ‘Can we come in?’ Sharon asked.

  ‘If you want. I was just going to bed.’

  ‘We have to talk,’ Sharon whispered, and took my hand. ‘We won’t be long.’

  The glasses we’d used the night before were upside down on the edge of the bathroom sink. I made us all bourbons. Sharon and Ash complained, saying they had to get up for school in the morning. I told them to shut up.

  ‘Grandad was crying this afternoon,’ Sharon said.

  ‘What, leaking a few tears? He always does that.’

  ‘No, seriously sobbing, tears rolling down his face, the works.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Mum was sticking up for you. She was telling Grandad about all the good things you’ve done since you started work and how you’re maturing and that. And he said it would never last. Mum flipped out. I mean, she didn’t hit him but she came close.’

  She took a sip of her drink. She screwed up her face, swallowed, then let her tongue hang out. ‘Yum. Anyway, Mum was saying all this stuff about how it wasn’t your fault that Nanna left him and it wasn’t Grandad’s fault either.’

  ‘My fault? How could it have been my fault?’

  ‘Nanna didn’t approve of your dad and when Mum got pregnant with you, Nanna started freaking out. She was always churchy and stuff, but when you were on the way she joined a sort of cult and started saying that you and Mum were going to burn in hell and all this shit. Grandad reckons he tried to stop her and she took off. Mum said something like “You still blame my poor boy for wrecking your marriage?” and Grandad started crying. Like, really howling.’

  ‘Well,’ I said. ‘There you go.’

  I wanted to feel happy that the grumpy old bastard should suffer some more but instead I felt sad for him. I’d been giving it to him and taking the piss for a lot of years.

  ‘Yeah, but the freaky thing was that Grandad said exactly the same thing happened when Mum was born. Nanna’s mum didn’t approve of Grandad and thought that Mum was going to be born a devil. She ran away as well. Back to England.’

  ‘Two generations,’ Ash said. ‘It’s like a curse or something.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Sharon said. ‘That means Mum will hate my boyfriend and want to send me to hell. I’m not having any kids.’

  We drank. Sharon explored Ash’s bungalow. I went to pour myself another drink and Ash put her hand over the glass. ‘Go home, you guys. I’ve got to get my beauty sleep.’

  Sharon moaned. ‘But it’s so cool here. I want one.’

  ‘Just think, Shaz, in a couple of weeks you can have my room, too.’

  ‘I don’t want to think about it.’

  Then my sister did something bizarre. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was talking about all the bad shit from Grandad’s life. She hugged Ash. Wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. And Ash hugged her back.

  ‘Night night. Have a good sleep, you two. Okay?’ Ash said.

  I waited until Sharon was out the door and I hugged Ash, too. Felt her body shape into mine and smelled the skin on her face. I kissed her cheek and she patted my shoulder.

  ‘You sleep good too, okay?’ I said.

  ‘Will now,’ she said.

  Sharon held my elbow as we walked across the street. The streetlights couldn’t drown out the zillion stars. Sharon sighed.

  That sky was all I knew. Those people w
ere all I knew.

  The army dudes eventually came through with the goods. I rode my bike down a steep track to an ugly metal span that had been laid across the river. It was 11 am on Monday morning and I’d decided to get a mobile phone. That way I could go and live in Queensland and my mates could still ring me. Not that any of them would. The one I chose was this sexy blue thing that was so small that I could swallow it in an emergency. Cost me nothing! All I had to do was pay my phone bill (thirty-five bucks per month plus calls) for two years and it was mine.

  I went to the school. Caught the last five minutes of lunch. Ash, Aggie, Gel, Michael Herrod and Heidi Geppart were camped at our tree. The big old gum tree at the back of the oval. I missed that tree. Ash said hi. There was something about her face that seemed different. Her smile was bigger, her eyes wider or something. Aggie telegraphed a slow-mo punch at my head and I ducked it.

  Gel wouldn’t look at me. He was in a deep and meaningless conversation with Heidi. He offered her a smoke. A Dunhill.

  I asked his brother where he’d got the smokes.

  ‘I dunno. He nicks smokes from everyone and everywhere. He’s a fucken klepto. Are they Dunhill?’

  I nodded.

  ‘They’d be Mum’s then. Mum had a full box — like ten cartons —that fell off the back of a truck. He’s been nicking them. He’ll get his arse kicked when she finds out. She had a go at him yesterday for stealing her condoms.’

  ‘That’s pretty sick.’

  I showed them my phone. Ash and Aggie wrote the number on the backs of their hands with Ash’s pen and the bell rang.

  Aggie stuffed my phone in his pocket and walked off to class. He started running and laughing. I chased him and tackled him to the ground. I pushed his face into the grass.

  ‘Give it here,’ I said.

  ‘Orright, orright. Get off me.’

  I rolled off him and he spat grass at me and smiled. Then his smile vanished. ‘Look out!’ he howled, but it was too late. I felt a blow to my back. A solid boot — full force— to my kidneys. I hit the deck and rolled. Another blow closer to my shoulders then another in the bum. They were hard enough to move me over the ground. Hard enough to push the air out of me. I rolled out of the way and struggled to my hands and knees.

  Gel. The stub of the Dunhill hanging on his lips, his eyes black discs of rage.

  ‘Fucken softcock.’

  He walked off.

  I stood up and held my back. My knees were shaking.

  ‘You all right, Gaz?’ Aggie said.

  I nodded and limped to where I’d left my bike. Aggie followed me. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘What was that all about?’ Ash said. ‘You okay, Gaz?’

  ‘He’s still shitty about yesterday,’ Aggie said.

  ‘Yesterday?’ Ash asked.

  ‘Yeah, Gaz stopped him from rooting a thirteen-year old.’

  ‘Thirteen? How, exactly, do you stop Gel from rooting anything?’

  ‘Grab him by the throat,’ Aggie said. ‘Until his face starts to change colour.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  I climbed onto my bike and the guys said their goodbyes. As I rode away, I could feel my world cracking. All the things I knew were changing. All the old things, the familiar things, didn’t feel like home anymore. I rode to the hospital. I thought about buying the big bloke some flowers but the thought was as close as I got. Next I’d be wearing make-up.

  Kevin was happy to see me. If he’d had a tail, it would have wagged when I walked in the room. He was sitting in the chair with a newspaper spread over his bed. He stood up slowly and shook my hand. He was wearing boxers and a t-shirt under a white robe. His skin looked grey and his eyes had sunk in his head. He’d brushed his hair.

  ‘Just thought I’d . . . um . . . see how you’re doing and that,’ I said. Acting like a knob was something that came naturally to me.

  ‘Good to see you, Gary. How are things?’

  I shrugged. ‘Not bad,’ I lied. ‘Everything okay? When are you getting out?’

  It was his turn to shrug. ‘They did one lot of tests on Saturday and they weren’t happy with the results so they did another lot this morning. Bit of luck I’ll be out tomorrow. Don’t tell Maureen, but the food’s not bad in here.’

  ‘Jesus. You must be sick.’

  He held open his robe and showed me one of those plastic wine bladders that hung over his shoulder. The tube from the bag disappeared up the leg of his boxers.

  ‘Anybody who carries a handbag full of piss has to be sick,’ he said.

  I laughed awkwardly and we fell into silence, both looking here and there around the room.

  ‘I . . . I’d better get going.’

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Thanks for dropping in. You working tomorrow?’

  ‘If I can get there.’

  ‘Maureen said the bridge had been fixed.’

  ‘Yeah, it has. I’ll ride my bike over.’

  ‘That’ll keep you fit.’

  ‘Or kill me.’

  Kevin laughed and an idea cut it short. He shook his head. ‘I was going to say that you could borrow my ute but you haven’t got your licence yet, have you?’

  ‘No. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Should get Homer to drive the van over and pick you up.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Make sure Homer looks after the van, all right? Get him to pick up after himself.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ I said. ‘You might be asking a bit much though. Has Phil been in to see you?’

  ‘No. He called this morning. Threatened to sack me if I wasn’t back at work tomorrow.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘No. He was stuffing around. Sometimes I wonder, though.’

  We shook hands again. Kevin used both paws and looked me in the face. ‘Look after yourself,’ he said.

  I saw that nurse with the nice bum on the way out and she smiled at me. Cured me. I didn’t even know I was sick. She was good medicine.

  Mum was all mellow that night. She didn’t say she was sorry or anything but she made me a chicken schnitzel Hawaiian for tea and I told her it was beautiful. Sharon went off to chat on the net after dinner. Mum washed the dishes. I dried.

  ‘What did you get up to today, love?’

  ‘Nothing much. I slept until ten. Oh, I bought myself a phone.’

  ‘A mobile?’

  I showed her and she got all excited. She took off her rubber gloves and pushed a few buttons.

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Nothing. Zero. Zip.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just pay my phone bill for two years and it’s all mine.’

  ‘Oh. I see. Pay for it every month for two years.’

  ‘Well . . . yeah. I guess.’

  ‘I think I’ll have to get one now. What’s your number? Write it down for me.’

  I did. I wrote ‘Gary’s mobile’ in the front of the telephone book with all our frequently used numbers. Looked pretty slick.

  ‘I went and saw Kevin in the hospital.’

  ‘Yeah? How is he?’

  ‘He looked ill. I mean, he can walk around and stuff but he has a handbag to piss in.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Little tube from his dick to the bag.’

  ‘Catheter.’

  ‘Yeah, that.’

  ‘Poor man. What’s happening with work?’

  ‘Business as usual tomorrow. I’m going to ride.’

  Mum nodded. I finished drying the dishes and checked myself in the mirror before I went to bolt out the back door and over to Ash’s place.

  Grandad was on the back step. I tried to push past him and he grabbed my arm.

  ‘Where are you off to?’

  I shook him off. ‘Over to Ash’s place.’

  ‘Will you be long?’

  ‘Yes. Hours.’

  ‘Can I have a quick word before you disappear?’

  His eyes were drilling me but he wasn’t angry. He looked hopeful.

  ‘O
kay.’

  He took my elbow and led me through the back door and into the yard.

  ‘I just wanted to say sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Fine. What for?’

  ‘Everything. I think I’ve given you a bit of a raw deal over the years. Your mum and I had a talk yesterday . . . and you’re my only bloody grandson and I treat you like shit. I’ve always done it and you’re my only bloody grandson. Sorry. I’m really sorry.’

  Yeah, I thought. I’ve got six whole bags of sorry in my cupboard; I’ll put it with them. His eyes were watering.

  ‘You’re a good kid. I know I’m an old dog but I’m going to do my best to change. I brought you something for your trip. Mum says you’re going to Queensland?’

  I nodded and he dug an envelope out of his pocket. He flattened it in his palm and handed it to me.

  ‘Just to help with the few incidentals.’

  One thousand dollars. Ten one-hundred-dollar bills.

  My fingers tingled. ‘Jeez, Grandad. I don’t know what to say. Fanks.’

  He bowed his head.

  I wanted to say something. Had to say something.

  ‘I think it was mostly my fault that we’ve . . . you know . . . never got on. I’m lucky to have a grandad. Fanks.’

  I poked out my hand and he shook it then dragged me into a hug. It was more like a stand-up headlock and he sobbed into my shoulder.

  I patted his back. When Grandad broke from the hug, a stringer of drool connected my shoulder to his lip. Grandad waved in front of his face and the stringer snapped. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘Go and meet up with Amy. Is she going with you to Queensland?’

  ‘No. I don’t think so. She has a family here. I mean she has a life here. I mean . . . you know . . . she’s still got school and that. She’s smart.’

  ‘Should take her with you,’ he said, and winked.

  So there I was, walking to Ash’s place with a thousand dollars in my pocket, feeling like the old bastard might have been talking sense.

  ‘Would you come with me? To Queensland?’

  ‘What, for a holiday?’ Ash said.

  ‘No. To live.’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know, Gaz. I have a few plans for myself, you know. I want to go to uni and that.’

  ‘You could go to uni in Queensland. They have unis there, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes. I couldn’t afford it.’