Calypso Summer (21 page)

‘Robbie, this is Clare,' I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.

‘Oh, hi Robbie,' she said.

‘Hey Clare,' Robbie said real quietly but Clare didn't really notice, she was too interested in the West Indian cricket team who were limbering up and taking their positions in the field. I could tell Robbie was checking Clare out though. She was wearing this short little black dress over a bikini with these glittery sandals. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. I wrapped my arm around her as the opener took his mark in preparation for his first delivery to Clarke.

Applause built as left-arm fast bowler Delorn Johnson ran in towards the crease to release his opening ball. And then there was an
oooohhhh
from the crowd as the ball beat the batsman and the wicketkeeper Thomas collected it in his safe hands.

‘This is the most exciting part, isn't it Calypso?' Clare said. ‘Anything can happen.'

‘Yeah, it is, but the Windies will clean up and I'll have you in my bed in no time.'

Clare jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow. ‘There's plenty of time for that Calypso, come on we're watching the cricket,' she said.

But it was hard concentrating on the cricket, thinking about getting Clare back home and having Gary test out the stuff the next day. Sure, it was deadly watching the game, especially when Kraigg Brathwaite belted two huge sixes in a row but, as expected, things went the West Indies way just a little too easily. The Australians only scored 165 and the Windies won easily with 29 balls remaining and six wickets to spare.

‘Viktry,' I said when Jason Holder hit the winning run. Clare, Run, Robbie, Liston, Cephus, Mardi and I all gave each other high fives. We stayed to watch the West Indies walk around the
boundary to show their appreciation to the crowd. Liston packed his steel drum away in a cardboard box and the Australian fans poured out of the ground, all disappointed and that. ‘So what you doing now bruz?' I asked Run.

‘We'll just find somewhere to smoke up and hang out in town a bit. You wanna come?'

‘Nah man, but Happy New Year, hey,' I said.

‘Yeah, Happy New Year,' Run said. Then he gave Clare a hug.

‘Nice to see you Run, and to meet you Robbie,' Clare said and then we started making our way through the crowd.

‘I can't wait to get back to your place,' Clare said, grabbing me on the arse when we were out of the ground.

‘Where's a bloody taxi when you need one?'

‘Let's go to the Casino, usually plenty there,' she said, pulling me by the arm.

°°°

We were walking so fast that we were almost running down King William Road to the taxi rank. My pulse was racing flat out, and when we were up near Festival Theatre we turned to each other and cracked up, realising how urgently we wanted to get back to my flat. There were still heaps of cricket fans around us and traffic was jamming up real bad on King William Road. We almost ran straight into three fellas with Australian flags draped over their backs who were singing ‘Waltzing Matilda'.

When we reached Parliament House there were heaps of people waiting at the Casino to catch taxis. Fuck it, I thought, if only they knew what I was in for they'd let me jump to the front of the queue.

‘Don't worry,' said Clare like she'd read my mind, ‘we have all night.'

We walked to the back of the taxi queue. I watched Clare's every move. Three taxis pulled into the rank and it seemed like half of the queue were carried away in them.

‘If we don't take off soon, I'm going to drag you into those bushes there,' I told her, looking at the hedges out the front of Parliament House.

‘Don't tempt me,' she said.

Another couple of taxis pulled up to the rank and people opened their doors before they'd even come to a halt. I liked the way things were speeding along and before we knew it we were at the front of the queue. I stepped out onto the road whenever there was a break in the traffic, watching the road ahead like a hawk, waiting for a taxi to come our way. I wished we were speeding home in Clare's car.

When a cab finally approached us, I went to the curb to grab Clare's backpack. When the cab stopped, Clare jumped straight into the back seat and I slid in next to her. The driver turned around to ask where we were going and me and Clare and the driver got the shock of our lives. The driver was Gary. I just gawked at him flat out, in his taxi driver uniform.

‘What a bloody day to see you,' Gary said. ‘I guess you two enjoyed the game?' The taxi in the rear beeped at us and Gary pulled into the traffic on North Terrace.

‘What are you doing Gary, driving a cab?' I asked.

‘Sorry mate, I thought I could work things out without telling you.'

‘Telling me what?' I looked at Clare who was reclined in her seat and looking impatient.

‘Things haven't been going so well.'

‘What do you mean things haven't been going so well?' I asked as Gary pulled up at the traffic lights. ‘Business has been alright.'

Clare shook her head in agreement with me. ‘Yeah, these days most of our customers are your customers.'

‘The business isn't really the problem … '

‘What is then?'

‘I've just got a few gambling debts, Calypso, nothing I can't work out.'

‘But what about the Christmas bonus you gave me?'

‘I had a win … a good day.' Gary pressed some buttons on the GPS and asked, ‘Where we going, anyway?'

‘My place … So how bad is it?' I asked.

‘I've been down about six weeks' rent since November,' Gary said, trying to act as if it wasn't that bad but his voice told another story.

‘Explains why you been late paying me.'

We were all silent for a while. I looked at Clare feeling ripped off. Apart from worrying about Gary, I was sure that the moment with Clare was lost. I leant back in the seat and watched the people waiting at bus stops and walking down the busy city footpaths. I couldn't believe I was feeling so shit right after watching the West Indies win and thinking I was just about to get lucky with Clare.

Gary stopped at another set of traffic lights on the verge of Victoria Square. ‘If I don't pay the rent in the next month, I might have to close up shop. I'm sorry mate.'

‘You don't think you'll have enough money by then?'

‘If I don't blow any money, I'll be a few hundred short but if I just beg a bit, they might give me another few weeks. Problem is mate, I'm a gambler … and who knows what could come and go in a few weeks?'

‘And what about the stuff with my family? What about the plants and the oils and that?'

‘I think that'll be alright. That's the reason I'm getting this other bloke to meet with us tomorrow. He manufactures native foods and products. He works with Aboriginal communities all the time. We will still be able to get things going with him.'

‘But what about my job?'

‘I've been thinking about going to get some help. It's not like I don't want to change, it's just hard, mate … very, very bloody hard,' explained Gary. ‘There's always another win around the corner.'

‘It'll be alright,' Clare said reaching over the seat and patting Gary on the shoulder.

I realised that if Gary didn't lose his business in a couple of weeks, it was only a matter of time … unless he turned things around quick smart. I knew how he took off to the pub every day to gamble, and have a drink too. He was all over the place. I took deep breaths thinking about all the hassles of finding another job.

‘Do you reckon I should start looking for another job then?' I asked, real wild.

Gary didn't say anything for a long while. He just stared straight ahead as he drove.

‘So what you reckon,
boss
?'

Gary exhaled. ‘If it wasn't for you mate, we wouldn't have got this far. I mean look at me, I'm just a burnt out old punter.'

I held back from kicking the back of the taxi seat. I could tell that Clare knew how serious things were. Clare grabbed my hand just before Gary pulled into my drive but it didn't help things.

‘Just come meet this bloke tomorrow,' Gary said. ‘And things might turn around, you know. It's not like I don't have money coming in, I just need to hang on to it.'

I pulled my hand free from Clare's soft grip and reached for my wallet. Clare jumped out of the taxi and started walking toward the stairs. I rushed to find the right change. I just wanted to get out of the cab. When Gary saw what I was doing, he said, ‘Put it away, don't worry about it mate, it's the least I can do.'

‘You sure?' I asked, watching Clare walk up to my flat.

‘I'll see you tomorrow. Just have a good night. Happy New Year.'

°°°

Clare had taken my keys from her bag and was trying to open my door. ‘Do you want me to do it?' I asked.

‘Think you better,' she said handing me the keys.

My head was spinning from Gary's news but as soon as we were inside Clare dropped her backpack and wrapped her arms around me. ‘It'll be alright,' she whispered.

‘I don't reckon,' I said, breaking free from Clare, turning on the light and grabbing a glass of water.

‘Do you want one?'

Clare shook her head.

‘I knew it was too good to be true,' I said.

‘What?'

‘The work with Gary, I knew I couldn't trust him. He's always taking off somewhere or just being a slack bastard, you know?'

‘It'll be alright Calypso,' said Clare as she sat on my lounge and waved for me to sit down beside her.

I sculled the rest of the water and went and sat next to Clare, my confidence completely shot. It felt like I'd been kicked in the guts. As I held my head in my hands Clare put her arm around me. She smelled awesome and I knew it wasn't the right time to get the sulks. I wished I could shake it. And then Clare pushed me back into the cushions and straddled me. She started kissing my neck and it felt real good, hey. I put my hand up her skirt and placed it on her stomach but I could smell something. ‘Can you smell that?'

‘No,' she whispered, and just kept kissing me.

I couldn't believe that the shit with Gary had gone down and all I could think about was the smell of ganja when all I'd wanted for so long was to be alone with Clare … and I could definitely smell ganja. Clare broke away from me. ‘What's wrong? Don't you want this, Calypso?' Clare asked.

‘I'm dying for it,' I said and rolled her off me so that she was on her back. I held myself above her and kissed her neck. I reached up her back and undid her bikini top. I ran my hand along her side and took her boob in my hand. It was so perfect and firm and she gasped as I squeezed her nipple.

Then there was a fucking knock on the door. I thought it might be Run and Robbie. Clare pulled away from me and shook her head and started doing her bikini top back up. Then we heard the cops call out, ‘It's the police.'

‘Oh shit,' said Clare, getting up and straightening her dress. ‘What do we do?'

‘Fuck,' I said, realising what I could smell. A whole heap of ganja that Run had bought into the house, probably so Robbie's mum wouldn't sell it off or something.

‘I gotta open the door,' I whispered to Clare. ‘The smell, it's Run's ganja, got nothing to do with me. But I'm not going to snitch on Run, okay?' Clare nodded her head and then clung closely behind me as I opened the door.

Two police officers towered over us and one of them said, ‘Mr Kyle Summers, I'm Constable Williams, this is Constable Wilmot. We have a warrant to search your property.'

‘Jesus Christ, can you smell that?' said Constable Wilmot, barging into my flat. Constable Williams just pushed past us too.

Then Constable Wilmot turned to Williams and said, ‘I'll grab the gear. Keep an eye on these two. We'll get their details down at the station.'

‘Down at the station?' Clare said and started crying. I put my arm around her but Constable Williams just pulled us apart, like real aggressive way. I wanted to just fucking slam him.

‘You're under investigation here, mate.'

I'd never had real trouble with the cops before. But I'd heard plenty of stories about them flogging Aboriginal fellas for nothing. Constable Williams just stood there watching us, his hand on his belt with a gun and that hanging off it. I could see that Clare was shitting it and I was too. I could hear things being opened and closed and banged around in my room. Then Constable Wilmot flew into Run's room. After no time at all he came out with a cardboard box full of ounce bags of ganja. It was too much ganja.

‘I don't know anything about it,' I said.

Constable Williams paid me no attention. He just picked up a bag and held it in front of him. ‘Fully mature buds,' he said.

‘I don't know anything about it,' I said again, knowing things were really getting serious.

‘Mr Summers, I suggest you keep your mouth shut,' said Constable Williams. ‘If you haven't noticed, you're in deep shit. There has to be kilos of cannabis here.'

Constable Wilmot shook his head. ‘You can tell your story down at the station.'

We were lead to the patrol car with Wilmot pushing me in the back as I walked.

‘Cut it out,' I protested, really having to hold back from telling him to get fucked.

Neighbours came out to have a good gawk. I wanted to tell them to get fucked too. It was all good fun for them. Bit of action on New Year's, something to talk about. We were shunted into the back seat of the police car. I turned my attention back to Clare. ‘It's going to be okay,' I said, as Constable Williams opened the boot and shoved in the mother lode of cannabis.

‘Are you sure?' she asked.

‘I'm sure. We'll get them to call your dad when we get to the station.'

As the police car pulled out of my drive I told the cops that I had a job and was doing the right thing. ‘I work in the health food and product store on Henley Beach Road, we sell massage oils and things.' Constable Williams just turned to me and said, ‘Save it for the station, you little wannabe Bob Marley prick.'