Authors: Scot Gardner
I
told
him
to
run
but
he
insisted
that
I
dink
him.
‘Look.
Look.
W
atch!’
Den
shouted
and
pointed
to
the front
of
Game
Zone.
Griz
and
his
mates
were
just
arriving
when
suddenly
something
happened
and
they
became
a pile
of
bodies
and
metal.
W
e
could
hear
the
crash
from where
we
were.
Griz
stood
up
and
his
bike
was
hanging
from
his
bum
like
a
huge
growth
stuck
to
the
seat
of
his pants.
Den
exploded into
a
squeal
of
laughter
that
was
so
loud Griz
heard
it
over
the
traffic
noise.
He
shook
the
remains of
a
crushed
packet
of
cigarettes
from out
of
his
shirtsleeve
at
Den.
‘
Y
ou
die,
arsehole.’
Den
stopped
laughing.
‘Whoops.’
Pic
and
one
of
his
apes
T
er
r
y
were
already
back
on
their bikes
and
powering
up
the
hill
towards
us.
‘Go!
Go!’
Den
said
and
jiggled
on
the
handlebars.
I panicked
and
almost
lost
balance
as I
turned
the
bike back
down
Garrison
Street.
There
was a
break
in
the traffic
so
I
crossed
over
and
turned
into
Merrimans
Creek Road.
W
e
were
on
the big
downhill now
and
tearing
along.
I
hoped
like
hell
that
we
didn
’
t
have
to
stop.
I
shot past
the corner of Vincent Drive
and
headed
for the
V
elos’
place.
Their
house
backs
on
to
our
flat
and
when
we
got
to
the
back
fence
I
hit
the
skids
and
Den
shot
off.
I
threw
my
bike
over
the
six
foot
paling
fence.
Clear
ove
r
. Jumped
it
in
two
steps
myself.
Den
was
a bit
more
graceful.
‘
T
ake
it eas
y
,
W
ayne.
They’re
miles
back.
Something happened
to
the
wheel
on
Pic
’
s
bike
and
they
stopped
at the
top
of
Merrimans.’
My
heart
was
thundering
in
my
head
and
I
felt
like
my
lungs
were
going
to
burst.
My
hands shook
and
I
couldn
’
t
stop
them.
‘
Y
ou
bloody
idiot,’
I
shouted
and
a
spray
of
spit
landed
near
Den
’
s
boot.
‘Come
on
mate,
get
a
grip.
It
was
a
joke.’
He
pulled
something
out
of
his
pocket.
An
empty
tube of
Superglue.
He’d
managed
to
stick
Griz
’
s
arse to
his
seat with
Superglue.
That
was
funn
y
.
Bloody
funn
y
.
I
lay
back
on
the
long
grass
and
had
a
good
gut
laugh.
Dad
came
over
that
night in
his
grubby
jeans
with
the ripped
right knee,
smelling
of
beer
and
BO—he
hasn
’
t
discovered
the
joy
of
L
ynx
‘Aztec’
yet.
He
gave Mum
a
kiss
and
a
cuddle
like
he
always
did
and
Mum
played
along. She
rolled
her
eyes
at
me
over
Dad
’
s
shoulder
as
he
was
hugging
he
r
.
Dad
wanted
to
talk
so
we
escaped
the
telly and
Mum by
going
into my
room. When
we
lived
in
T
ennyson
Street
we
used
to
go
into
Dad
’
s
shed
and
build stuff.
Now
we’ve
only
got
one
of
those
stupid
little
sheds
just
big
enough
for
a
busted lawnmowe
r
. The
door
’
s
falling
off
and
it
stinks
like
cat
’
s
piss
because
the
V
elos’ tabby
uses
it
as
a
dunn
y
.
‘I
got
this
job
at
Thompson
’
s
.
.
.
you
know
.
.
.
my
solicitor?
Y
eah.
He
’
s
an
all
right
bloke.
Gives
me
a
beer
on
a
Friday
afternoon,
when
I
work
for
him.
Anywa
y
,
he
asked if
I
could
do
some
brick
paving
after
I
finished
replacing the
bargeboards
on
the
house
and
I
told
him I
could.
W
ould
you
give
me
a
hand
in
the
holidays?’
I
remembered
Mars
Cove
and
told
him
I
would
work with
him
anywa
y
. I
don
’
t
know
why
I
did
that.
My
knee
was jiggling
and
I
couldn
’
t
stop
it.
I
asked
Dad
about
the
sort of
work
he’d
want
me
to
do
and
he
went
into
one
of
his long-winded
explanations
about
brick
paving:
shifting sand, cutting bricks,
and
maybe
using
the
brick
sa
w
. It sounded
awesome.
I
couldn
’
t imagine
what
a
brick
saw
would
look
like—maybe
a
circular
saw
with
really
hard teeth
or
something
like
that.
Dad
then
told
me
a
sto
r
y about
a
fishing trip he
went
on
with Auntie Pat
and Carolyn
on Port Phillip Ba
y
.
They
hired a
boat
from Mordialloc
and
Dad
caught about
fifty
fish—flathead,
snapper
and
ga
r
fish—and
Carolyn
caught
a
fishing
rod that
had
fallen
out
of
someone
’
s
boat.
Hooked
it
off
the bottom
with
her
line.
They
cleaned it
up
and
it
works
like a
new
one.
Freak
y
.
Dad
hangs
out
with
Pat
(she
’
s
not
really
my
auntie)
and her
daughter
Carolyn
more
than
he
hangs
out
with
me. Dad
used
to
work
with
Pat
’
s
husband
Robert,
but
Robert fell
in
sex
with
a
teenager
he
met
at
the
pub.
Robert
left Chisholm
with
her
and
last
Dad
heard
from
him
he
was
living
with
the
girl
and
managing
a
nudist
resort
in Queensland.
Dad
never
mentioned
her
name.
So
when
Dad
gets
sick
of
sitting
in
his
caravan
watching
pay
T
V
,
he goes
over
to
be
the
‘man
around
the
house’
for
Pat
and Carolyn.
He
reckons
there
’
s
nothing
in
it
but
I
reckon
he
thinks
Pat
’
s
fair
game.
Just
wish
he’d
take
me
out
on
a
few
of
the
fishing
trips.
I
get
on
all
right
with
Carolyn,
she
is in year
ten
with
me
at
Chisholm
High—
T
en
W
aratah, Mrs
Kneebone
’
s
home
group.
Once
you
get
past
all
the
acne,
she
’
s
got
a
pretty
good
personalit
y
.
That
Friday
morning Den
informed me
that
there
were
only
two
weeks
of
school
left
until
the
September
holidays. I
love
the
way
the
holidays
creep
up
like
that.
I
don
’
t
have
time
to
be
bored
when
school
is
on.
I
only
get
bored
during
the
holidays.
Mum
goes
to
work
and
I
eat
all
the
two-minute
noodles
in
the
house
and
watch
tell
y
.
Mum
gets
ang
r
y
with me,
does
the
shopping
and
the cycle repeats.
But
these
holidays
I’ll
be
bus
y
.
Griz
was
waiting
in
the
breezeway
for
Den
and he pushed
him
hard
into
the
lockers.
My
heart
jumped
and
I wanted
to
run.
Pic
kicked
me
in
the
ankle
as
I
went
to
bolt past and
I
dropped
hard
on
the
concrete
floo
r
.
My backpack
shot
up
and
onto
the
top
of
my
head.
Something hard—maybe
my
pencil
case—cracked into the bottom
of
my
skull.
‘
Y
a
friggin’ idiot,’
Den
growled
holding his
arm.
Griz grabbed
him
by
the
front
of
his
vest
and
slammed
him into
the
lockers
again.
‘
Y
ou
owe
me,’
he
hissed
right
in
Den
’
s
face.
‘What
for?’
Den
squeaked.
‘
Y
ou’re
the
prick
who
put
glue
on
my
seat.
Stuffed
a pair
of
my
best
jeans
and
rooted
my
seat.’
‘Oi!
Break
it
up
you
two.’
For the
first
time
in
my
life,
I
was
happy
to
hear
Mr
Johnson
’
s
voice.
‘
T
wo
hundred
bucks.
By
next
Frida
y
,’
Griz
said
as
he dropped
Den
on
his
feet.
‘What
’
s
going
on,
Shane?’
‘Just
a
little
disagreement,
you
kno
w
,
Mr
Johnson.
All fixed
no
w
.’
‘Both
of
you
in
my
office.
No
w
.
The
rest
of
you
off
to
homerooms
please.’
Pic
kicked
me
again
as
he
left
and
Mr
Johnson
didn
’
t see
it.
It
hurt like
hell;
a
corke
r
,
in
the
meat
of
my
left
thigh.
I
limped
off
to
homeroom
and
Den
appeared
five minutes
late
r
.
He
apologised
to
Mrs
Leavey
for
being
late
and
flopped
down
next
to
me,
smiling.
My
skin
was
still crawling
and
the
stupid
bastard
was
smiling.
‘What
happened?’
I
whispered.
‘Nothing.
Couldn
’
t
do
anything
to
me,
he
’
s
shit-scared of
Griz. Said
to
sort
out
our
differences
outside
of
school hours.
That
was
comforting
.
.
.’
He
must
have
smoked
twenty
smokes
that
da
y
.
I
dinke
d
De
n
hom
e
agai
n
tha
t
nigh
t
bu
t
w
e
waite
d
until Gri
z
an
d
th
e
moron
s
h
e
hang
s
ou
t
wit
h
ha
d
left
.
H
e
was
bustin
g
t
o
g
o
t
o
th
e
dunn
y
whe
n
w
e
go
t
t
o
hi
s
place. Ker
r
y
ha
d
com
e
hom
e
o
n
th
e
bu
s
bu
t
th
e
fron
t
doo
r
was stil
l
locked
.
De
n
bange
d
franticall
y
o
n
th
e
glas
s
panel an
d
yelle
d
bu
t
ther
e
wa
s
n
o
response
.
H
e
shrugge
d
his ba
g
of
f
hi
s
bac
k
an
d
hunte
d
fo
r
hi
s
keys
.
H
e
wa
s
jiggling
o
n
hi
s
fee
t
a
s
h
e
searche
d
throug
h
hi
s
ba
g
an
d
I
thought
h
e
wa
s
goin
g
t
o
hav
e
a
n
accident
.
I
n
on
e
swif
t
motion he’
d
foun
d
th
e
keys
,
unlocke
d
th
e
doo
r
an
d
burst throug
h
t
o
th
e
toilet
.
I
hear
d
a
muffle
d
toilet-far
t
the
n
a
hug
e
sigh.