men a spot in the shed in front of the telly, that gave women the spaces between them, that gave children the space outside.
Big men dressed in the same clothes as one another stood side by side on the screen, mouthing,
Australians all let us rejoice
. The camera swirled around the ground. It was so big it didn’t seem real.
I’d die a happy man if I was there right now
, her dad said, above everyone else. Her dad and the man neighbors laughed together, but Millie could hear only his voice, those forbidden words, like skipping stones, skipping across the surface of everything else.
Can you die happy?
she whispered to her gumboots.
karl the touch typist
E vie worked some afternoon shifts at the department store before she became ill. One night, over dinner, she said,
Did you ever dream of being locked in a department store?
Of course
, Karl said.
We should do it one night
, she said.
We could hide in the men’s change rooms while everyone locks up. No one ever checks them.
She grinned at him mischievously.
Men don’t try things on in this town.
They took turns to say what they would do once the event had been orchestrated.
Jump on the beds
, she said.
Eat all the chocolate
, he said.
Try on all the lipsticks.
You don’t need to wear lipstick, love.
Type on all the fancy computers.
You don’t know how to work a computer.
It doesn’t have to be on.
I’d take off all the keyboard letters and make a love letter for you.
Oh, love
, she said, holding his hand across the table.
But we’re not vandals
.
Maybe we are?
he said.
Maybe when we’re locked in a department store together, we will be?
There seemed a promise of an alternative version of themselves in that department-store fantasy.
But they never did any of these things, because they said a lot but didn’t do a lot, and they were both okay with that.
So when Karl the Touch Typist escaped from the nursing home, he walked straight to the department store and waited for it to open. He sat in the café and held his coffee with both hands. It steadied him, having something to hold like that. He watched people, with lives and futures and loves, and he felt like he was floating above it all, like all these feelings that people had were beyond any experience he could ever know. And then, at 4:30 P.M. , he wandered into the men’s change rooms, and waited.
It worked, just like Evie had said it would, so he stayed there every night, sneaking out of the change rooms after the lights went out and climbing into one of the display beds for as many hours as he dared. Every morning he walked the mile along the coast to the local campground, snuck into theshowers, washed himself, then walked the mile back to the department store. In the afternoons, he sat in the department-store café, looking into his coffee cup and thinking,
Eat chocolate, jump on the beds, make a love letter for you
. And then, as the clock struck 4:30 P.M. , Karl would begin the process all over again.
He was there almost three weeks, and had managed to carve out an existence for himself that was tolerable. No one had recognized him. No one seemed to be looking for him. There was the slight hiccup of Stan, a short, ferocious-looking man who didn’t say a lot, and the security guard with whom Karl was familiar from Evie’s time in the store. But it turned out Stan was the security guard for the entire town, that he only worked at the department store once or twice a week, and when he did, he mostly sat in the office in the back watching reruns of ’80s television programs. Karl began to think he could live out the rest of his days here. That it would be a nice way to do that. He had everything he needed. He couldn’t think of a single reason to leave.
And then Just Millie arrived, and things became more interesting, more complicated, more hopeful. On her first night, he stooped behind the racks of maternity wear and watched her look out the window to the deserted parking lot. He watched
Big men dressed in the same clothes as one another stood side by side on the screen, mouthing,
Australians all let us rejoice
. The camera swirled around the ground. It was so big it didn’t seem real.
I’d die a happy man if I was there right now
, her dad said, above everyone else. Her dad and the man neighbors laughed together, but Millie could hear only his voice, those forbidden words, like skipping stones, skipping across the surface of everything else.
Can you die happy?
she whispered to her gumboots.
karl the touch typist
E vie worked some afternoon shifts at the department store before she became ill. One night, over dinner, she said,
Did you ever dream of being locked in a department store?
Of course
, Karl said.
We should do it one night
, she said.
We could hide in the men’s change rooms while everyone locks up. No one ever checks them.
She grinned at him mischievously.
Men don’t try things on in this town.
They took turns to say what they would do once the event had been orchestrated.
Jump on the beds
, she said.
Eat all the chocolate
, he said.
Try on all the lipsticks.
You don’t need to wear lipstick, love.
Type on all the fancy computers.
You don’t know how to work a computer.
It doesn’t have to be on.
I’d take off all the keyboard letters and make a love letter for you.
Oh, love
, she said, holding his hand across the table.
But we’re not vandals
.
Maybe we are?
he said.
Maybe when we’re locked in a department store together, we will be?
There seemed a promise of an alternative version of themselves in that department-store fantasy.
But they never did any of these things, because they said a lot but didn’t do a lot, and they were both okay with that.
So when Karl the Touch Typist escaped from the nursing home, he walked straight to the department store and waited for it to open. He sat in the café and held his coffee with both hands. It steadied him, having something to hold like that. He watched people, with lives and futures and loves, and he felt like he was floating above it all, like all these feelings that people had were beyond any experience he could ever know. And then, at 4:30 P.M. , he wandered into the men’s change rooms, and waited.
It worked, just like Evie had said it would, so he stayed there every night, sneaking out of the change rooms after the lights went out and climbing into one of the display beds for as many hours as he dared. Every morning he walked the mile along the coast to the local campground, snuck into theshowers, washed himself, then walked the mile back to the department store. In the afternoons, he sat in the department-store café, looking into his coffee cup and thinking,
Eat chocolate, jump on the beds, make a love letter for you
. And then, as the clock struck 4:30 P.M. , Karl would begin the process all over again.
He was there almost three weeks, and had managed to carve out an existence for himself that was tolerable. No one had recognized him. No one seemed to be looking for him. There was the slight hiccup of Stan, a short, ferocious-looking man who didn’t say a lot, and the security guard with whom Karl was familiar from Evie’s time in the store. But it turned out Stan was the security guard for the entire town, that he only worked at the department store once or twice a week, and when he did, he mostly sat in the office in the back watching reruns of ’80s television programs. Karl began to think he could live out the rest of his days here. That it would be a nice way to do that. He had everything he needed. He couldn’t think of a single reason to leave.
And then Just Millie arrived, and things became more interesting, more complicated, more hopeful. On her first night, he stooped behind the racks of maternity wear and watched her look out the window to the deserted parking lot. He watched
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