Читать книгу The Friday Night Debrief - Kylie Jane Asmus - Страница 13

Chapter 9

Meeting Maggie

Yet another long and lonely afternoon loomed ahead of Kylie. After another short day at work – nine hours filled with constant chatter and activity which had flown by in the blink of an eye – the clock had ticked over to five o’clock. The office quickly emptied and Kylie found herself alone. It was not an outrigging training day and she had nowhere to be and no one to do anything with. Jess and Kylie had been spending some time together and enjoyed catching up on the weekends but after 5 pm on non-outrigging weekdays, Kylie still felt very alone.

In contrast to the hours between nine and five, the hours after five o’clock from when she left work until she fell asleep seemed to drag on. On her sad days Kylie would drive home in silence and may not utter another word to anyone until arriving at work the following morning. To her, it seemed like she was destined to spend an eternity on planet null and void, population one, sole resident: herself. On leaving work, Kylie would drag her heels to the office exit, sigh, and with a heavy head and a sombre mouth, her limp hand would slap the office lights off. Taking a deep breath, she would pull and lock the door shut behind her, then, her feet would kick at any twigs or rocks on the pathway out to her car which was always the last vehicle left on site. The last person to leave had to lock the front double gates to secure the site. This task fell on her shoulders most days a week, reminding her that everyone else had somewhere better to be and people waiting for them to get home to share a smile, a hot meal and a warm hug.

Each afternoon she would drive just outside the premises, put the car into neutral, pull the handbrake on and kick her heavy unhappy legs out of the vehicle before shutting the door and muffling the forlorn verses of her favourite country music artist of the week, the volume of which was always set at UP. As she walked to the gate, she could smell the potency of fumes. Carbon monoxide fumes. She would think to herself, “Man, those smelly ships in the harbour are an environmental hazard. Those buggers should be ashamed of themselves, pumping out black shit into the earth’s atmosphere, making a big flamin’ hole in the ozone layer!” This was until she realised that the manky, potent, and very lethal smell she was inhaling was coming from her own little white wocket rocket. Her only friend. The only constant she seemed to have in her life that was as reliable as the sunrise each morning.

Kylie felt a bond with her little white wocket – as much as you can have a bond between a person and a personal mode of transport. She knew some people had nicknames for their cars but she would greet her little car each morning and give it a pat on the dashboard before driving off and always thank it for getting her to her destination safely before she got out and locked the door. She honestly believed that her little white wocket knew the sound of her voice, singing or otherwise, and it would reciprocate. Oh, it might not physically talk but it sure would cough and splutter to remind her vocally that she had missed the red warning light for low fuel. Then it would ramp up to attract her attention with a “Hello? Kylie! Hello? I need fuel!” red flashing light every two seconds to remind her again that she had missed the first warning light. If she continued to ignore the flashing light, taking a punt that she could get another five to ten kilometres worth of travel out of the fuel tank, it would start to cough and purge and baulk. That’s when she would finally pull into a petrol station and acknowledge its need for a drink and some ego inflation – or in mechanical terms, she would also put air in the tyres.

Sometimes, on a good day, Kylie would sing the entire time she was in the car or talk back to the radio talkback banter, or she would just offer up her opinion on the actions of dodgy drivers on the road around her. Whatever the chatter, Kylie and her white wocket had a very good partnership. Whenever she was in need of some quick manoeuvring to get out of a shit spot, her white wocket would always power up and follow her direction. It would look after her and keep her safe, each and every time she needed it, without delay. Kylie just felt a connection with this ensemble of bolts, despite its lack of mod cons. Her 1992 Model Nissan Pulsar came equipped with bicep-powered wind-up windows, but was completely lacking beverage holders, and had no CD player, no lift up centre console storage facility, and no dash board gauge showing engine revs. Yet, it did all she needed it to do. It was her personal chariot that whisked her to many a social function, and the only constant companion she had in her pretty lonely little life in Townsville.

On this particular afternoon, Kylie was having a bad case of down-turned mouth. She drove home in silence. She wound down the driver’s side window to get some air on her face and even turned off the music that was playing on the car stereo. It was a tape she had been given by her ex boyfriend a year earlier and she normally sang along with it: George Strait – Greatest Hits. Today the slow and sad songs seemed to have an entirely different effect on her heartstrings when she succumbed to the reality that she was totally alone. Now it was just a continual playlist of misery that reminded her how empty she now felt.

“Oh, you’re going OFF,” Kylie shouted at the stereo as the music began to blare. After turning the cassette player off, she spoke up again, “As a matter of fact, you’re going OUT!” She grabbed the cassette and tossed it out her open window onto the road. “George.... Strait out the window!” Then she continued her pity party in a cranky but empty voice, “Time for a big serve of NUTHIN’, nuthin’ to listen to, nuthin’ to sing about, nuthin’ to do, nuthin’ to look forward to.”

Kylie drove home and parked in what she considered to be pole position, right outside the front gate to her little flat. But instead of bouncing out of the car and bounding up the stairs, she sat in her car and just stared at the gate, afraid to get out in case she tripped over her bottom lip. She wondered if she should even bother to walk up the two sets of eleven stairs, get changed into her comfortable boxer shorts, cook dinner which she would probably burn anyway and then throw out and have to fight with the burnt pot to clean off the black marks. Maybe she should just skip that part and go to bed sad with an empty stomach and empty heart, only to wake up and realise she was ten hours away from it happening all over again. For the next twenty-five minutes Kylie sat in her car, her head tilted to the right and her eyes glazed staring into space, contemplating the advantages of skipping cooking and going straight to bed. The driver’s window was down and the road noise was fierce and unrelenting, her street was a thoroughfare for hoons, drive-byers, cafe frequenters and Strand walkers. It was one of these buggers that finally roused her from her comatose state with a toot of a horn and a signal with the question, “Are you staying or leaving that car park?”

“Stuh,” Kylie coughed, her mouth dry from the sadness that brings on tears. “Staying,” she said out loud.

“Oh, bummer,” the driver signalled back with a snap of their fingers in a ‘darn-it’ motion.

Normally the well-mannered lady in Kylie would say sorry to the other driver, indicating she was sorry she couldn’t help them out. But when she looked over and saw two people in the car, she wasn’t sorry for them because they each had a friend they could look at and talk to after hours. They had someone they could chat and laugh with and get angry at if the other person farted.

Kylie cleared her throat and realised it was nearly quarter to six. She wound up the driver’s side window and got out, locking the car. “Come on Kyle’s, twenty two steps to comfy pants town,” she said softly to herself. With tears about to well in her eyes, she lifted her lead feet up the stairs, step by step. She opened the door to her flat and kicked off her work shoes. Almost tripping over her joggers, she remembered the promise she made to bum face about exercising more regularly and her thoughts drifted to the day when she would have to face her fear and stride out to the water in her outrigging team uniform, made out of her nemesis: 100% Lycra. “Farrrrrrrk!” she bellowed out loud. “I’ve gotta go for a flamin’ waaaaaalk!”

Before she could change her mind, she went to her room and picked up the shorts that were still on the floor from her last walk along with the socks that were lying nearby. Cleaning AND cooking were far from being her number one priorities. Leaving her work polo shirt on, she picked up her hat, strode out to the fridge and grabbed her water bottle, put her house keys in her pocket and headed out the door. It was the quickest departure from concept to actualisation of an idea that Kylie had had in her living existence in Townsville. Without even thinking about it, she had changed her sad situation of self-imprisonment to one of freedom, taking herself back outside into a world where happiness could be waiting, just around the corner.

To avoid all the hustle and bustle on The Strand, Kylie walked on the opposite side of the road past the holiday apartments and motels in a northerly direction towards Cape Pallarenda. At the end of The Strand she turned left and walked until she found the Cook Street turn off and then made her way down the bitumen road to the footpath that hugged the seawall. There was hardly anyone else on the same route and she was happy not to have to waste time trying to look for familiar faces. It was emotionally exhausting being on a constant lookout for local faces when she wasn’t a local anymore. All the faces that she had grown up with and acknowledged for twenty plus years on the streets of Mount Isa were now 1000 kilometres away. The familiarity and safe feeling Kylie had known all her life was now a thing of the past and to look up into a sea of unknown faces was a harsh slap of reality.

In an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts, Kylie tried singing to herself. The only song she could come up with was Doctor Who-oo, HEY! Doctor Who, Doctor Who-oo, HEY! Doctor Who, Doctor Who-oo, Yeah, Doctor Who! After five minutes she was sick of repeating the few lines she could remember but there was no getting it out of her head. After walking for forty minutes she turned around and headed back towards her flat. On the way, she headed down Warburton Street and dropped into the convenience store next to Mr Mudcrab. She hadn’t planned ahead for a shopping trip but on finding ten dollars left in her shorts pocket from the last time she wore them she decided she may as well spend it.

Kylie bought some milk and continued along the road past the Townsville Sports Reserve and then past the lane way that led up to Queens Gardens. As she passed by the old folks home, out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone with white hair sitting on the ground and turned to have a better look. Next to an overturned empty chair, an old lady was sitting on the grass. But she was sitting awkwardly, like she had fallen off the chair. Kylie jumped the fence and called out, “Excuse me, are you alright?” The lady’s head turned towards Kylie but she was fumbling on the ground sweeping her arms left and right as if trying to find something hidden in the grass. “Hello?” she said in a weak but friendly voice.

Kylie made her way over to where the elderly lady was sitting and knelt down to pick up her glasses from just behind her and said, “Hello there, are these your glasses?”

“Oh yes love, help me put my eyes back on,” the elderly woman said sweetly.

“My name is Kylie, Are you okay? Would you like some help getting back onto your chair?”

“Yes thank you love. I seem to have gone to ground!” She laughed.

Kylie walked behind her and put her hands under the lady’s arms and lifted her frail frame into a standing position. About that time a young woman came running out onto the grassy area.

“Maggie, are you alright?” the lady asked as she ran towards them. Kylie had her back to the younger woman and her cap was covering her face. The younger woman walked around to stand in front of Kylie and helped Maggie take her seat.

Maggie said, “Oh, I’m alright love, this young lady is helping me, seems this old bird fell off her perch.”

The young lady looked up at Kylie and said, “Don’t I know you from Outrigging?”

After Maggie was safely back in her seat, Kylie replied, “Maybe? Turn around I’m not used to seeing anyone’s faces. I sit in number 5 in Shooters’ crew.”

The lady tuned around and with her back to Kylie she waved and said, “It’s me Jenna. Hut Hut.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you now. I’m Kylie.”

“Hi Kylie, I’m Jenna.”

“Do you work here?” Kylie asked.

“Either that or I’m the youngest resident in this joint!” Jenna joked.

“Oh yeah, okay,” Kylie replied with a smile.

Maggie piped in, “Oh, are we having a reunion? I must be invited, I’m here already!”

Jenna said, “Kylie this is Maggie. Maggie, Kylie and I play sport together.”

“Oh how lovely, what kind of sport do you play? Is it hookey? Oh, I used to play hookey when I was a young sprite. And when I’d play hookey it always seems to end in nookie, is that a term you young pups still use? Nookie?”

“Maggie!” Jenna said laughing. “Stop it, you’ll corrupt us with your wicked stories!”

Kylie was chuckling as well but answered Maggie’s question, “Our sport is Outrigging Maggie, we paddle Outrigger Canoes on The Strand in a team of six girls.”

“Oh how lovely. I bet you get to see Magnetic Island every time you paddle. I was named after that Island.”

Kylie was feeling more playful and replied, “What, your name is really Magnetic?”

“Oh Shooks no, it’s Maggie. Not Margaret or Madge or Midge or Margareta, It’s Maggie for Maggie Island. Where I was born and where I grew up.”

“Oh, That’s really sweet. You’re living history Maggie!” Kylie said.

Jenna was feeling playful too. “Lucky that island wasn’t called Fruitbat Island, imagine your name then!”

“You bugger. I could understand if it was because I’m so batty I fell off my chair, and so blind I couldn’t find my specs,” Maggie bantered.

“Yes and now you have grass all over you!” Jenna said brushing it gently from Maggie’s arms and legs.

Kylie put on her best Spanish accent and said to Maggie, “Si Senora, you were very pleased to be helped up off de ground, you display de grassy-arse.”

“Oh Shooks, get me inside before I fall off again, you little buggers,” Maggie said with a smile.

Jenna signalled to Kylie, “Can you help me walk her in?”

“Sure,” Kylie mouthed back. Suddenly remembering that she had just been for a long walk on a hot afternoon, Kylie announced, “I’d like to apologise in advance for my odour, I’ve just been for a walk and I think I have a unique par-fume of sweat and mank, pouring from my pit-sickles.”

“Oh love you smell better than I do. I smell half past dead,” Maggie said without even batting an eyelid.

“Maggie! Stop it,” Jenna burst out in disbelief.

“Gee Maggie you’re only as old as you feel and you’re feeling both of us at the moment, and we’re under 30!”

“So I am, thank you for helping me love,” Maggie said as she looked up to Kylie’s face as she reached around and grabbed her on her bottom. “And thanks for letting me cop a feel! Life can be a bit dull in here.”

“Hello!” Kylie jumped at Maggies’ surprise grope.

Kylie and Jenna walked into what seemed to be a hall. At one end of the room tables were set, and at the other there was a cleared space with enough room to ballroom dance, with a pianola parked in a corner.

“Oh wow, a pianola! I grew up with one of those. ’Twas the bane of my existence having to practise on that thing for forty minutes a day!” Kylie said.

Jenna said, “Really? Wow. How about that!”

Maggie added, “The pianola came with old Lil but she left without it six months ago.”

Without even thinking, Kylie asked, “What do you mean she left without it? Couldn’t she find a removalist to shift it, or did she not have enough money? Being on a pension is tough...”

Jenna explained diplomatically, “She departed without it, Kylie.” Then she illustrated her point in a rather less diplomatic fashion by tilting her head sideways and sticking out her tongue.

“Oh shit, sorry. I wasn’t thinking so literally, sorry about your friend Maggie,” Kylie apologised.

“Oh love, don’t worry. The best thing about that pianola was that while Lil was playing it, she wasn’t babbling on with jibber. That bird just wouldn’t shut up and it was a double gift when she played the piano because I love music and I got a break from her whinging and whining, bless her soul!”

“Does anyone play it anymore?” Kylie asked.

Jenna replied, “No, Lil’s kids also owned a pianola, so they took all but three of the pianola rolls when Lil moved into the home then two broke, and everyone got sick of the one that was left after it was played to um…”

“Death love, it can’t escape you,” said Maggie finishing Jenna’s sentence. “Whether you’re a person or a pianola roll, if your time is up, you either R.I.P or Rest in Pieces. He he he.” Maggie laughed at her own joke.

“Gee you’re a witty bit of gear aren’t you Maggie?” Kylie said giving her arm a gentle rub.

“Oh I used to be quick, now I’m more docile, I seem to have spasms of charm!” She winked at Kylie and smiled.

“Come on Maggie, we’ll sit you down for tea. Here’s your table,” Jenna said.

Kylie put her hand on Maggies’ shoulder and said, “Bye Maggie, it was lovely to meet you.”

“Drop in anytime love, I’m appearing all week!” Maggie said with a smile, swinging her left arm from her chest up to her chin with an arthritic thumbs up.

Kylie turned and walked away with Jenna and said, “She’s a hoot!”

“Yeah,” Jenna said, “and she’s right, it has been really dull around here since Lil passed away. When there was music there was atmosphere and life in the place. And the pianola rolls they had were all old timer sort of music. Everyone knew it and loved sitting there and singing along in their seats.”

Kylie nodded in agreement. “Yeah I know what you mean. My mum has a pianola at home and has played the piano all her life. She goes to the old people’s home in Mt Isa and plays for them sometimes, and they crowd around her and have a great old time.”

“Does your Mum live here?” Jenna asked.

“Nooooo,” Kylie said. “She’s still in the Isa but she is coming to visit this weekend for a few weeks. I should bring her down here and ask her to tinkle the ivories for them.”

Jenna stopped, faced Kylie, grabbed both her elbows and said, “Oh they would LOVE that, really, they would really love that.”

“Hmmmm,” Kylie said thinking out aloud. “Okay, well Mum arrives on Sunday, do you think we could come down on Tuesday and let her play the piano for the oldies for an hour or so? Would that suit their schedule?”

“Yeah! That would be fantastic. I’ll let them know on Monday that we have a special surprise for them after dinner on Tuesday. How about starting at 6.30 pm, everyone will have just finished eating and you’ll capture them before they head off to watch TV or go back to their rooms.”

“Great. I think they will LOVE it. I hope they will love it. I can’t see why they wouldn’t. I’ll stop doubting myself. I’m full of ideas, I just feel doubtful sometimes about how they will pan out but I can’t see this sucking. I’ll just write that time down in my diary so I don’t forget. Start playing at 6.30 pm Tuesday. No worries,” Kylie said.

“It’ll be great!” said Jenna.

“Okay, well I’d better split. This milk is getting warm,” Kylie said.

“Hey, I finish work in 10 minutes, did you want to have a coffee? At my place? I live just around the corner?” Jenna asked.

Surprised, Kylie said, “Which corner? The corner at the lights? Is that where you hang out? On the corner? I thought your skirt was a lil bit too short!”

“Up Gregory Street towards Castle Hill, really it’s about 300 metres from here, saves me heaps on fuel,” Jenna said quite proudly.

“I’ll bet it does, you’d be on Foot Falcon all the time.”

“What?”

“You know, Foot Falcon! Your feet are the transport!” Kylie said pointing to her feet.

“Ohhhh, I get it. Foot Falcon. But what if I’m a Holden girl? What is it then?” Jenna inquired.

Without even thinking, Kylie blurted out, “Hoof Holden!”

They both smiled and Kylie told Jenna she would wait for her outside.

Ten minutes later, Jenna and Kylie walked around the corner to Jenna’s place. She put the kettle on and they talked for an hour before Jenna realised what the time was and said, “Shit, are you hungry?”

“I’m hungry, but not for shit. If I was going to eat shit I’d go home and burn something for mine self,” Kylie said, confessing her lack of kitchen prowess.

“Really? Wow, I love cooking. Stay and I’ll cook you dinner?” Jenna asked, hoping Kylie would say yes.

Without any hesitation, Kylie replied, “Sold!” A night off cooking was a gift.

“Great! Do you like steak? ”Jenna asked while looking in the freezer.

“Nup,” Kylie replied.

“Fish?” she asked while fumbling through the cold shelves.

“Nup.”

“Chicken?” she asked but by now she had turned to Kylie as she waited for her response.

“Nup!”

“Are you a vegetarian Kylie?” Jenna asked smiling.

“No I’m a Vege-Aquarian! I eat prawns and oysters.”

“Ha, I’ve never heard of a vege-aquarian before. How about a vegie stir fry?”

“Great!” Kylie said.

“Done,” Jenna said opening the fridge and pulling out vegetables from the cold drawer.

They talked while Jenna cooked then they sat and ate and talked, then they washed up while they talked some more. Then Kylie looked at the time and announced, “Baby it’s late! And it’s a school night! I’ve gotta act like a tree and leave.” She thanked Jenna for a really nice meal, a lovely chat and a great evening.

Kylie waved goodbye and walked five hundred metres home with her milk. She thought about the irony of it taking an out of outrigging scenario for her to get to know Jenna, even though she had sat behind her for two months at training and listened to both her and Jess calling Huts. She had purposely joined a sport to meet people but noticed the habit was for girls to go to training to train then head home straight afterwards with very little interaction in between. How can you get to know people that bugger off straight after a one hour session of being quiet in a canoe, Kylie wondered. She was just glad to have made some ground with Jenna and knew it could only get better from here on in.

Closing the gate, she bounded up the twenty-two stairs to her little flat. She opened her door with a smile and said softly to herself, “Wow, what a lovely surprise end to a sad drive home today.....I think I’ve found a friend.” Kylie jogged her happy jog on the spot and then all the way to the shower as she chanted to herself, “Yay for Ky-lie, Yay for Ky-lie!”

Before going to bed she made a note to herself to ask her mum to bring some pianola rolls with her when she came to visit so that she could keep them at her place and continue to play them for the oldies once her mum returned to Mount Isa after her holiday. Her mother owned hundreds of them so Kylie thought she could swap them every trip she made and hopefully bring a bit of joy to the oldies one night a week.

That night Kylie turned the light off with a smile on her face.