hair for a couple of days.
Since Bindi pissed off, this place has become a lot more tolerable. The feeling of something dangerous just waiting to happen has gone away. Still, before I leave my room, I always sit and listen to the house, trying to work out who’s home, what room they’re in, and what they’re doing.
I sit on my bed in my underwear, my hair towel-dried, close my eyes, and listen.
Music down the hall. Cinnamon’s in her room. Downstairs, Karen and Shane giggling and Mrs Rowles talking. Some clattering kitchen noises, then a squeal from Karen and Shane. Mrs Rowles has some sort of a trick flipping pancakes in the pan that kids like. No noise at all from Lyyssa’s study. Sometimes Lyyssa hangs around after Mrs Rowles gets here, reminding Mrs Rowles about curfew times and fretting about Karen’s medication, even after Mrs Rowles has pointedly told her, ‘Very good, Lyyssa, we’ll be just fine, enjoy your weekend.’
I look at my watch. Eight-thirty. Probably Mrs Rowles will be busy for the next half hour making pancakes for Karen and Shane and then doing the dishes. I’m hungry, but I’ve got a small bottle of long-life juice and a muesli bar, so I have that and read, keeping my ears tuned to the buzz of the house.
When I hear noisy cartoon sounds, I know that Karen and Shane, stuffed full of pancakes, have migrated to the lounge room and are pythonising in front of the TV. (Pythonising is a word of Daddy’s. It means to lie around doing nothing after you’ve eaten a big meal.)
Daddy, Ernie, and Ernie’s new girlfriend are pythonising in the lounge room. I’m lying on a camp bed on the back porch where it’s cool. The porch is screened in, but I still have to light a mosquito coil to keep the mozzies away. Reggie is dozing on the floor next to me.
I’m supposed to be asleep, but Daddy and his friends are talking. They’ve forgotten I’m here. Daddy’s in the armchair drinking a beer; Ernie and his girlfriend are sitting on the couch. The bong is on the coffee table. Ernie’s girlfriend has a razor blade and is scraping white powder into a line on a mirror. Then she rolls up a hundred-dollar note and sniffs the powder up her nose.
Ernie is telling a funny story. The last time he came over, it was a funny story about his dog Lily, who had a litter of pups last year with our dog Reggie. Lily smelled banana cake cooking in the kitchen. Being a dog, Lily had no way of knowing that the banana cake had dope baked into it, so she sneaked into the kitchen and ate it when Ernie and his missus were gone. They came back home and found the banana cake gone and the dog out cold on the kitchen floor. Lily stayed stoned for two days — they had to carry her outside morning and night so she could go to the toilet.
Tonight, the funny story is about Ernie’s ex-missus, who moved out and took his car with her. He saw her driving into town and ran her off the road.
‘So the stupid bitch files an assault charge and I had to front up to the district court. This old goose of a judge is wearing a sheep’s arse on his head and Dame Edna glasses.’
Ernie does an imitation of the judge. He picks up Daddy’s sunnies and pushes them halfway down his nose like grandpa glasses, and puts someone’s beanie on his head like it’s a wig. Then Ernie picks up the paper, screws up his mouth, and pretends he’s the judge reading from some document.
‘He says to me, “Mr Antonelli, in this affadavit, the plaintiff has stated that in the course of this incident, you called her a — ahhhegggmmm — a ‘dirty slut’. Did you in fact call Ms Gribble a — ahhegggmmm — a ‘dirty slut’?”
‘And I said to him, “No, Your Honour, that is a lie. Those are not my words. I did not call Tanya Gribble a dirty slut”.
‘So Old Beaky up there on his throne says, “Well, then, Mr Antonelli, will you please inform the court what you did say to Ms Gribble on this occasion?”.
‘And I said, “I called her a FAT
Since Bindi pissed off, this place has become a lot more tolerable. The feeling of something dangerous just waiting to happen has gone away. Still, before I leave my room, I always sit and listen to the house, trying to work out who’s home, what room they’re in, and what they’re doing.
I sit on my bed in my underwear, my hair towel-dried, close my eyes, and listen.
Music down the hall. Cinnamon’s in her room. Downstairs, Karen and Shane giggling and Mrs Rowles talking. Some clattering kitchen noises, then a squeal from Karen and Shane. Mrs Rowles has some sort of a trick flipping pancakes in the pan that kids like. No noise at all from Lyyssa’s study. Sometimes Lyyssa hangs around after Mrs Rowles gets here, reminding Mrs Rowles about curfew times and fretting about Karen’s medication, even after Mrs Rowles has pointedly told her, ‘Very good, Lyyssa, we’ll be just fine, enjoy your weekend.’
I look at my watch. Eight-thirty. Probably Mrs Rowles will be busy for the next half hour making pancakes for Karen and Shane and then doing the dishes. I’m hungry, but I’ve got a small bottle of long-life juice and a muesli bar, so I have that and read, keeping my ears tuned to the buzz of the house.
When I hear noisy cartoon sounds, I know that Karen and Shane, stuffed full of pancakes, have migrated to the lounge room and are pythonising in front of the TV. (Pythonising is a word of Daddy’s. It means to lie around doing nothing after you’ve eaten a big meal.)
Daddy, Ernie, and Ernie’s new girlfriend are pythonising in the lounge room. I’m lying on a camp bed on the back porch where it’s cool. The porch is screened in, but I still have to light a mosquito coil to keep the mozzies away. Reggie is dozing on the floor next to me.
I’m supposed to be asleep, but Daddy and his friends are talking. They’ve forgotten I’m here. Daddy’s in the armchair drinking a beer; Ernie and his girlfriend are sitting on the couch. The bong is on the coffee table. Ernie’s girlfriend has a razor blade and is scraping white powder into a line on a mirror. Then she rolls up a hundred-dollar note and sniffs the powder up her nose.
Ernie is telling a funny story. The last time he came over, it was a funny story about his dog Lily, who had a litter of pups last year with our dog Reggie. Lily smelled banana cake cooking in the kitchen. Being a dog, Lily had no way of knowing that the banana cake had dope baked into it, so she sneaked into the kitchen and ate it when Ernie and his missus were gone. They came back home and found the banana cake gone and the dog out cold on the kitchen floor. Lily stayed stoned for two days — they had to carry her outside morning and night so she could go to the toilet.
Tonight, the funny story is about Ernie’s ex-missus, who moved out and took his car with her. He saw her driving into town and ran her off the road.
‘So the stupid bitch files an assault charge and I had to front up to the district court. This old goose of a judge is wearing a sheep’s arse on his head and Dame Edna glasses.’
Ernie does an imitation of the judge. He picks up Daddy’s sunnies and pushes them halfway down his nose like grandpa glasses, and puts someone’s beanie on his head like it’s a wig. Then Ernie picks up the paper, screws up his mouth, and pretends he’s the judge reading from some document.
‘He says to me, “Mr Antonelli, in this affadavit, the plaintiff has stated that in the course of this incident, you called her a — ahhhegggmmm — a ‘dirty slut’. Did you in fact call Ms Gribble a — ahhegggmmm — a ‘dirty slut’?”
‘And I said to him, “No, Your Honour, that is a lie. Those are not my words. I did not call Tanya Gribble a dirty slut”.
‘So Old Beaky up there on his throne says, “Well, then, Mr Antonelli, will you please inform the court what you did say to Ms Gribble on this occasion?”.
‘And I said, “I called her a FAT
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