Authors: Scot Gardner
I
go
t
a
strang
e
parce
l
i
n
th
e
mai
l
fro
m
Jacobus
Goudswaard
the next da
y
,
with a
note
that
looked as though
it
had
been
written
left-handed
by
a
right-handed
five-yea
r
-old.
Mum
had
to
read
it
for
me.
‘It says:
“Dear
W
ayne, so nice
to
meet
you
on
the
other
da
y
.
Y
ou
left
your
wallet
in my
truck
and
you
had
catched
a
train
by
the
time
I
saw
it.
Sor
r
y
I
missed
you.
Hope
you
get
this.
Best
of
luck.
Jack.”’ Eve
r
ything
was
in
it:
my
student
card,
libra
r
y
card,
a condom,
a
few
receipts,
and
one
hundred
and
forty-four dollars
and
thirty-five
cents.
I
gave
the
money
to
Mum.
That
’
s
how
she
found
out
I’d
taken
it.
I
su
r
vived.
But
only
just.
Den
phoned
just
before
lunch.
‘They
found
you
then?’ he
asked.
‘Where
did
you
get
to?
Y
our
mum
phoned
here and
she
was
panicking,
mate.’
‘
W
ent
for
a
quick
trip
to
Brisbane.’
‘Brisbane?
Bullshit
.
.
.’
‘Nah,
serious.’
‘Bloody
hell.’
‘How
did
you
pull
up
afte
r
,
you
kno
w
,
Pico
and
Griz
and that?’
I
asked.
He
was
quiet
for
a
long
time.
‘
Y
eah,
oka
y
.
Meet
me
at
Game
Zone?’
‘
Y
eah,
maybe.
Is
Ker
r
y
there?’
There
was
a
moment
of
silence.
Just
a
little moment. Enough
time
for some
hand
signals
and
a
bit
of
head shaking.
‘Nup.
She
’
s
not
home.
Don
’
t
know
where
she
is,’
Den said.
She
was
there
all
right.
‘Oka
y
.
I’ll
see
you
at
Game
Zone.
Half
an
hou
r
,’
he
said.
‘
Y
ep.’
He
hung
up.
I
listened
to
the
phone
booping
in
my
ear for
a
minute.
She
didn
’
t have
to
talk
to
me;
I
just
wanted
to
know
if
she
was
there.
If
she
was
oka
y
.
I
wanted
to
tell her
that
I
missed
he
r
.
I
wanted
to
tell
her
that
she
was
the biggest
reason
I
had
to
come
back
from
Brisbane.
I
bolted
for
the
doo
r
.
‘Where
are
you
off
to?’
Mum
asked
in her
matron
’
s voice.
‘Just
going
to
Game
Zone,’
I
said
and
realised
that
’
s
what
I’d
said
to
her
just
before
I
nicked
off.
‘I
mean
.
.
. I’m
going
to
meet
Den.
I’ll
be
back
for
tea.’
Sh
e
stoo
d
ther
e
wit
h
hal
f a
smil
e
o
n
he
r
face.
‘Promise?’
‘
Y
eah.
Promise.’
She
flicked
her
hand
at
me
and
grumbled
something under
her
breath.
An
old
couple
live
in
the
flat
next
door
to
ours
and
they
have
about
a
thousand
roses
growing
in
their
front
yard.
Not
bad
going
really
considering
the
front
garden
is
as
big as your
average
grave
plot.
Some
of
them
were
in full flower
and
I
hunted
through
and
found
a
red
one
that
was just
beginning
to
open.
I
looked
at
the front
door
of
their flat
and
smelled
the
rose.
One
swift
yank
and
the
rose
would
have
been
mine
but
I
couldn
’
t
do
it.
It
didn
’
t feel right.
I
walked in
and
rang
the
doorbell—weak
electronic music
chimed
inside
and
the
door
sprung
open.
‘Oh
,
hello,
’
th
e
ol
d
lad
y
sai
d
an
d
smiled.
‘Hi
,
I
liv
e
nex
t
doo
r
.
.
.’
‘
Y
es
,
W
ayn
e
isn
’
t
it?’
‘That
’
s
right,
’ I
sai
d
an
d
puzzle
d
a
t
ho
w
sh
e
kne
w
my name
.
W
e
ha
d
bee
n
neighbour
s
fo
r
seve
n
years
.
The
myste
r
y
wasn
’
t
ho
w
sh
e
kne
w
m
y
name
;
i
t
wa
s
ho
w
I
didn’t
kno
w
he
r
name.
‘Al
l
thi
s
tim
e
livin
g
nex
t
doo
r
an
d
I
stil
l
don
’
t
kno
w
your name,
’
I
sai
d
an
d
hel
d
ou
t
m
y
hand
.
‘I’
m
W
ayn
e
Armond.’
She
chuckled
and
held
my
fingers.
‘Hello
W
ayne,
I’m
Ivy Pritchard.’
Sh
e
smile
d
an
d
looke
d
ove
r
he
r
shoulde
r
.
‘
T
ed
,
it
’
s
W
ayn
e
fro
m
nex
t
doo
r
.
’
Th
e
ma
n
wit
h
th
e
smilin
g
gre
y
moustach
e
who’
d
been
nex
t
doo
r
fo
r
a
millio
n
year
s
appeare
d
behin
d
Iv
y
.
I
held
my
hand
out
to
him.
‘
W
ayne
Armond,’
I
said.
He
took
my
hand.
His
skin
was
warm,
loose
and
soft
and
his
smile
was
genuine.
His
teeth
looked
like
they
were
his
own.
‘G’day
W
ayne,
T
ed Pritchard.
What
can
we
do
for
you?’
I
felt
rude.
The
first
time
I’d
ever
spoken
to
my
neighbours
and
I
came
asking
for
stuff.
Rude
and
awkward.
‘I
was
.
.
.
looking
at
your
roses
and
I
wondered
if I
could
pick
a
couple
for
.
.
.
for
my
.
.
.
for
a
present.’
T
ed
grunted
and
threw
his
head
back.
Ivy
smiled.
‘Of
course,
W
ayne.
I’ll
grab
the
secateurs.’
She
vanished
into
the
flat.
T
ed
looked
at
his
slippers
then
walked
outside
shaking
his
head.
‘
Y
ou
don
’
t
have
to ask,
W
ayne.
Y
ou
can
help
yourself.’
‘Thank
you.’
Ivy
returned
and
began
to
hunt
through
the
flowers.
‘What
colour?’
T
ed
asked.
He
smiled.
‘Red,
of
course.’
‘Red
would
be
great.
Just
one
or
two.’
Ivy
and
T
ed picked through their rose
bushes
and gathered
five
beautiful
red
roses.
Ivy
darted
inside
with them.
T
ed
looked
across
the
neighbou
r
hood.
‘Might
get
a
bit
of
rain.’
‘
Y
ou
reckon?’
‘Might.’
I
looked
at him
and
thought
that
he’d
probably
kno
w
.
‘That
would
be
nice,’
I
said.
Iv
y
cam
e
ou
t
wit
h
th
e
flowers
’
stem
s
wrappe
d
in
aluminium
foil.
‘There
you
are,
W
ayne.’
I
thanked
her
and
T
ed.
T
ed
grunted
again.
‘Anytime,
W
ayne.
Help
yourself
or come
over
and
get
the
secateurs.’
I
walke
d
ont
o
th
e
street
,
wave
d
an
d
thanke
d
the
m
again.
‘Good
luck,’
Ivy
said
and
smiled.
I
smiled
to
myself,
looked
at
the
roses
and
then
up
the street.
Griz
was coming
out of
our
drivewa
y
.
My
smile faded
and
I
felt
tight
in
the
guts.
He
stopped
in
his
tracks
and
pointed
over
his
shoulde
r
.
‘
Y
our
mum
just
said
that
you’d
gone
to
Game
Zone.’
I
looked
at
the
roses
and
felt
like
a
big
girl.
It
’
s
hard
to
hold
flowers
and
be
tough.
‘
Y
eah,
I
had
to
get
some
flowers,’
I
said,
and
he
smiled. There
was
a
moment
of
icy
silence.
‘What
do
you
want?’
I
asked.
He
shrugged.
‘I
got
you
something,’
he
said,
gently reaching
into
his
jacket.
He
couldn
’
t
get
hold
of
what
was
in
there.
‘O
w
,
shit,’
he
yelped
and
pulled
his
hand
out.
‘Bit
me, little
bugge
r
.’
There
was a
smile
on
his
face
and
he
unzipped
his jacket
a
bit.
I
took
a
step
back.
From
the
‘V’
of
his
zip
popped
a
little
head.
A
pupp
y
.
All shiny
black
nose,
golden
fu
r
,
pink tongue
and
big brown
eyes;
its
ears
pointing
to
the
sk
y
.
Griz
levered
it
out
and
shoved
it
at
me,
its
legs
kicking in
the
ai
r
.