Recycling-Works says we're running low on lead, so kit up and we'll strip these houses bare."
I glanced at King, who was standing outside the Bushmaster, which was parked beside the truck. He was watching me keenly, wondering how I would react to my demotion. "We've already done this street, Cooper." I said.
"Is that right, Jones? In that case, follow me and I'll show you all the spots you missed." His tone was patronising.
"We didn't miss anything," I assured him flatly.
He patted me on the shoulder. "Ah, the arrogance of youth. Now follow me. After I've shown you the places to find lead, we'll split up and tackle the houses in two teams."
Cooper unhooked a ladder from the truck, placed it against the nearest house, and addressed us as though we were fresh out of school. "You'll find lead sheeting used as flashing around the sides of the chimneys and electrical wire connections." He clambered to the top of the ladder, and then stopped, surprised. "Oh, those spots have been stripped."
After that, he led us throughout the house, looking for lead sheeting in the cornices, around the bases of down pipes, in the conductor heads and window frames, and so on, until he had exhausted every possible source of lead – and didn’t find a single scrap.
"Told you we didn't miss anything," I said.
Cooper glared at me. "You know Jones; foraging teams have worked these suburbs for a hundred years, so how do I know that you're the ones who stripped this house?"
My teammates, who had been gloating at our victory, glanced unsurely at one another. How were we going to prove we'd done it?
I so wanted to smash my fist into Cooper’s cocky, know-it-all expression, but I somehow – barely – managed to resist the urge. "Take a look inside the roof above the laundry manhole," I replied. "You'll find some things we found but left behind, you know, since Newhome citizens aren’t allowed to touch them."
Cooper grabbed the stepladder and stomped back into the house. He returned a moment later with three rifles wrapped in plastic. "You're supposed to return all firearms to the Recycling-Works so they can be given to the Custodians, something I’m sure you are aware of."
"Proves we're the ones who stripped the house, doesn't it?" I ignored his comment completely.
Cooper stuck his face an inch from mine. "I don't like you, Jones." With that, he stomped off to present the rifles to the Custodians.
My teammates and I gave each other inconspicuous high-fives.
"Score one for our team, Jones," laughed Shorty.
After that, we drove around our assigned sector of Melbourne striking out time and again. After eating our lunches in the truck – apparently, you don’t need an actual lunch break if you don’t do any physical work – Cooper found an old restaurant with thin lead sheets used to waterproof the floor.
My teammates would not speak to Cooper as we worked, except to answer direct questions, and they always called him ‘Cooper,’ not ‘Boss,’ which annoyed him to no end. To rub salt in the wound, they called me 'Boss' instead. My friends were the best. For myself, I was so deep in the doldrums because Nanako didn’t show up this morning that I barely spoke a word.
When I got home that evening, I had a quick shower and dressed in my neatest casuals. I had to be at my parent’s flat soon to finalise the details of my pending marriage.
The thought of marrying a girl like Sienna King gave me the shudders. To be honest, I knew that few marriages in Newhome involved loving relationships, but all the same, I had always hoped to respect and get on with my wife. I couldn't see that ever happening with her.
A knock on my door snapped me out of my reverie. Thinking the guys had dropped over for a visit, I pulled the door open and my heart stopped.
Standing in front of me was Nanako, wearing long pink and black striped socks that reached to her thighs and an oversized men’s blue and black flannelette shirt, which she wore as a
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