Eve. What was going on in her head? If only she would put some meaning in her life.
Meaning; it was everything to Stef and Simon. Above all else, life and art – not necessarily in that order – had to be meaningful: One’s actions should always add new substance to the world. It was the least they could expect of their daughter, raised as she was in such a rich cultural environment. But Jess had a response to this which was difficult to deflect: What does meaning mean?
Jess went upstairs to her room and closed the door. She sat on the bed a full minute before turning her attention to the tattoo on her forearm. Was it fading? Was it turning green? She was sure it was darker and clearer a year ago – what’s the point if it’s going to fade? A fleur-de-lis, its crossbar had been artfully placed along the raw rib of a scar, still red and raised, giving the tattoo a slight 3D look. It was very special; that little ridge of raised tissue, the first experiment, followed later by the full production. And how alive that had made her feel! For a short and precious period, a unique kind of knowing, unavailable in the outer world, eclipsed everything and left the emptiness far behind. She lightly touched the image on her arm and lifted her gaze to the cracked mirror sitting on the dresser. She could barely see her own eyes, hidden as they were in the surrounding kohl and overshadowed by her shock of wildly disarranged hair.
She was not to know it, but Elton’s room next door was exactly opposite hers and at that moment, if the party wall could be magically removed, he’d be staring precisely at her.
She sat for a few more minutes before going into the passage and along to the old nursery at the back. That room had a wide window looking down onto her brother’s bungalow. She saw lights on in James’s kitchen. It was a good time to catch him, between his working day and his wandering night. She slipped quietly down the stairs, glancing at her parents, whose backs were now turned, their eyes fixed intently on the latest TV news atrocity. Sirens wailed, at least twelve dead, she heard the newsreader say.
She went out the back way across the small concrete yard and tapped on her brother’s door. James was in the bedroom and had seen her coming.
‘What?’
‘Can I come in?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. Why do you always ask that?’
‘Got anything to eat?’
‘Have a squiz if you like. I don’t know.’ Jess didn’t bother. She sidled through and sat on his bed. James was kneeling on the floor with his back to her, his new bike upturned on sheets of newspaper. He was spraying it black.
‘Shouldn’t you do that outside?’
‘Too damp – you need dry conditions. Don’t you like the fumes? Thought you’d be into it.’
The idea did appeal and she felt her heart skip. ‘I need some stuff, Jimmy. Do you think you could get something for me?’
‘Jessica.’
‘Just a bit o’ speed or something, mate … Don’t freak out. If you can’t, you can’t. Just thought I’d ask that’s all, no biggy.’
‘I told you, Ryan doesn’t like bringing it to work. And I don’t like it either. Means one of us has to carry it around all day. Anyway, I can’t afford it anymore.’ He looked sharply at her. ‘You’re costing me a fortune, Jess. Wean yourself off it or get your own money.’
Jess picked up a pair of his underpants and held them to her nose. James snatched them away.
‘Fuck off, you freak! What do you think you’re doing?’
Jess laughed.
‘Can I come with you tonight?’
‘No.’
‘Where will you go?’
‘Wherever.’ He rattled the can of spray. ‘Is your computer working?’
‘Nah, still fucked. Must’ve downloaded some fucker’s viral shit. Don’t want to touch it, ’case it climbs up my arm.’
‘I might know someone who can fix it,’ her brother suggested. ‘The guy next door. He sold me this bike. He’s a tech head, got an amazing stash of gear. Do you want me to ask him if he can have a look at it? I bet he’ll do it – for a price though; the prick knows the value of things.’
‘I don’t want no stranger in my room. He might be some mutant geek that, you know –’
‘He’s not like that. ’Bout your age, straight as a freakin’ flagpole, lives in the total dark – you might like him.’ He flashed her a grin.
‘Can you take it over to his place?’
‘No way! I hate his cooped-up idea of a life, him and his mum squirrelled away, sleeping through the day.’
‘What’s his mum do?’
‘Christ knows. Nurse, I reckon – or a prosty.’
‘You lookin’ to root her?’ She bounced lightly on his bed.
‘Bloody hell Jess, was that necessary?’
She reached out with her foot and pushed him in the back.
‘Piss off, woman!’
‘Get the geek to fix the computer, okay? Take it over to his place. As long as he doesn’t want the world for it.’
James spat a little more spray onto the shiny black frame. ‘Don’t worry, I’m keeping a record of every cent you owe me.’
Jess left and James righted the bike, studying it carefully. He could see himself flashing down side streets, no lights, silent and unseen as a blacksnake, keeping to the shadows. A helmet was hardly necessary and was only needed for his signature style. Like the Green Lantern’s logo, he’d paint it up symbolically, though the artistry would hardly approach his parents’ ideals.
Just then there came a tap on his other door – the one that led into the back laneway. Behind all three terraces there ran a cobblestone alley along which, a century earlier, the nightman had travelled, emptying battered drums of human waste into a horsedrawn tank. But now that artery was hardly utilised, except as James’s usual access.
The knock came again and James called through the door.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello! It’s Nikos from the corner. Got a minute?’
James opened the door to find a thickset middle-aged man standing in the fading light.
‘Nikos,’ he repeated, ‘but people call me Nick. That’s my property on the corner, number 40, where the verandah is.’
James knew it well, the third of the three terraces, the one right on the corner of Frederick and Ward. It had an awning out over the footpath straddling both streets and beneath it, the original full-length shop windows were still in place.
‘You like the verandah? I built that. Used to be one there in the old
