No Worries by Bill Condon Page B

he got back behind the wheel and his truck rumbled away.
    I took off up the street looking for Mum. For the first time I noticed the blood on the back of my hand where she’d bitten me.
    A few minutes later we both saw each other at the same time.
    â€˜Hey, Mum. Wait a second, will you?’
    She scrambled over a fence into someone’s front yard, and kept on looking back at me like she was a startled wild animal.
    â€˜I only want to talk to you, Mum.’
    There was a ‘Savage dog’ sign but it didn’t stop her. She opened the side gate and disappeared around the back of the house.
    I knocked on the front door. What was I going to tell them anyway? There’s a mad woman in your back yard? I was almost relieved when there was no answer.
    I went back to the gate and found that the savage dog was there to greet me. It threw itself at the wooden slats, barking and growling. How did Mum ever get past that monster?
    I retreated a few paces so I could see more of the yard, thinking that maybe she’d taken refuge in a nearby tree.
    â€˜Please come home with me, Mum. I’m sorry for what I said. Everything’s going to be okay.’
    I felt like I was talking to myself.
    After a while I trudged back to the street. And there was Mum. She was trying to force one of the car windows down. I ran as quickly as I could but she saw me and darted into a laneway. She was at the other end and I was only halfway along. Her head was down, her body hunched forward. She wasn’t stopping for anything.
    â€˜Mum! Please let me talk to you.’
    She spun around. ‘I am sick of you. Do you hear me? Sick to death of you.’
    In a house off the lane someone stood at a window watching and listening.
    â€˜Go back to your father. He can look after you from now on. You haven’t got a mother any more!’
    I couldn’t think of anything to say. Where would I start?
    She took off again.
    I followed from a distance, hoping she kept out of trouble until she got tired or came to her senses. It couldn’t be too long …
    Mum reached the shopping centre, still glancing back at me every now and then. At the Water Board building she bustled up the steps to the glass doors. I waited a minute or two then went after her. In the lobby I stood at the lifts reading the company signs, trying to work out where she might have headed. There were about twenty floors to choose from.
    In one of the offices a group of women were gathered around a doorway. They stared at me.
    â€˜Have you seen a lady go by here a while ago?’ I asked. ‘She’s a bit overweight … she’s fat. Brown, fairly short hair. She had a yellow top on. Black pants, I think. She comes up to about my shoulder. I saw her come into the building a few minutes ago.’
    â€˜What do you want with her?’
    â€˜She’s my mother.’
    They exchanged glances. A tall woman stepped away from the others so it was just me and her.
    â€˜She’s really your mother?’
    â€˜Yes, of course. Why?’
    â€˜She told us you were a stalker.’
    â€˜Right …’
    Two cops came through the front door of the building.
    Someone pointed me out.
    The stalker.

19
    The cops towered above me, their eyes questioning my every word and movement.
    â€˜So tell us one more time, son …’
    They checked their notebook to make sure I had my story straight.
    People were coming out of the lifts and leaving the building all the time. Mum could have easily slipped past me.
    After five or so minutes the cops took a few paces away from me for some heavy-duty whispers. Then they came back.
    â€˜Well, son’ — the older of the two paused to look at his shoulder, brushed away flecks of dandruff — ‘everything sounds on the up and up here.’ He grinned at his partner. ‘Bit of a turnaround, isn’t it? Usually it’s the kid who runs away from home, not the mother.’
    The younger