‘This,’ Harris says, ‘is product.’
He’s holding up a little plastic bag he’s scrounged out of his pocket. It’s just a normal ziplock bag. But the contents are not normal. I see a few grams of brittle off-white crystals that would seem innocuous if they were stored in a jar on your spice rack.
I squint at the bag. ‘It looks like rock salt.’
Harris cocks an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, you probably don’t wanna sprinkle this into the spag bol or anything.’ He lays the baggie on our kitchen table.
It’s Sunday, just after two in the afternoon, and I got home from my shift to find Harris in our house, having a cuppa with Dad, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I’ve only just had time to get over the shock of seeing him here, and change out of my work clothes; now I’m sitting in on this little business talk, and Harris has produced the bag of ice, like a party favour.
Something has happened, though, since I spoke to him last. He’s still working the same grungy street look in his dirty jeans and boots, the black hoodie. His surfer hair is tangled, like he’s raked it back with his fingers too many times. But it’s not the outside of him that’s different. It’s the expression on his face, the way he carries himself. The vulnerability I saw in him last Tuesday by the river seems to have been whittled away. He seems more purposeful, more directed. The anxiety in his eyes has been replaced by a cool determination.
I can only wonder at the change, file it for later. Now the conversation is all about the ‘product’.
Dad leans across to examine the baggie. ‘This isn’t local?’
‘This is from Melbourne,’ Harris says. ‘About five hundred bucks worth – there’s five points in there. More expensive, this stuff. The local product isn’t ready yet, and it won’t be as clean.’
‘They’re stepping on it pretty heavily?’
‘Yeah, they’re gonna chop it up with Epsom salts or something. Wouldn’t want to stick it up my arm, personally.’
That makes me gape. ‘You inject it?’
‘Yeah.’ Harris shakes his head. ‘Sounds crazy, right?’
‘Or they smoke it,’ Dad says, to clarify. ‘Either way, it’s not gonna do you any good. Who gave you this?’
‘Snowie,’ Harris says. ‘Leon’s happy with me, I’ve been doing a good job as a cash courier, and when Snowie said he needed to make a delivery down here I offered to make it easy for him. Said I needed to come see Dad anyway, drop in at the hospital…’
‘You’re still sticking to the hospital story?’ I ask.
‘Yep, although I made it sound like a chore.’ His gaze holds mine. ‘This’ll be the last time I get to use that as an excuse.’
‘Tell me about local production,’ Dad says.
‘Well, apparently, there was a big bust about three months ago, cleaned out a few of the more reliable cooks.’
‘Yeah, Mildura CIU broke up a party in Irymple a while back.’
‘Right. So Leon’s got his out-of-town suppliers, plus he’s bankrolling this new lab. Two boys from Swan Hill have got things cranking. Not much I can tell you except it’ll be big quantities, and delivery should be happening soon. Dunno dates, dunno details yet. Won’t be too hard to find out though.’
‘Just keep your questions low-key. You don’t want to seem obviously nosy.’
‘Or I’ll get my nose cut off – yeah, I figured that out already.’ The way Harris says it so casually, snorting at the joke, makes me shiver. He lifts his mug in Dad’s direction. ‘I’m being low-key, hey. It’s not that hard to get info. One of the guys I’m working with has a mouth like a sewer trap. Vomits words. Snowie’s not so good at subtlety himself. All I have to do is sit at the table, drink my beer and keep quiet, and the others all fill in the blanks.’
‘Good,’ Dad says. ‘Better if you’re a listener, not a talker.’
I touch the bag with the tip of my finger. ‘What about this stuff? You’re supposed to offload it, right?’
Harris nods. ‘Some of it is for me to distribute as I see fit. And some of it’s on order for Gavin Donovan.’
I look quickly at Dad, who returns my look before nodding at Harris. ‘Right. You been given any names for who to pass the rest onto?’
‘Said I knew a few parties who’d be interested. Nobody who’ll report back, except for Gavin.’
‘So you give Gavin his share –’
‘Dad!’
Dad turns to me, one hand raised. ‘He’s gotta do it, Amie. If Snowie realises Gavin missed out he’ll get suspicious of Harris.’ He looks back to Harris. ‘You give Gavin his share. Then after you leave, I’ll bust him. Not for this – I’ve already got an excuse for picking him up. This’ll just be the icing on the cake when I get him for violations on his car.’
Harris sucks on his bottom lip. ‘No guarantee he won’t whack it up his arm before you catch him.’
‘I’ll just have to risk it. There’s a fair bit there – if I move fast he won’t have a chance to use it all before I search him.’
‘Is arresting Gavin really the only way?’ I ask.
‘Far as I can see, yes.’ Dad sips his tea, sits back in his chair. ‘Amie, if I bust Gavin for possession, he’ll get referred to a rehab clinic. And it’ll be expedited and mandated by a court order, so he won’t have to wait and he won’t be able to skip out. If the judge is sensible, they might even mitigate his jail sentence into custodial-plus-rehab. Trust me, that’s a good outcome for Gavin.’
Harris leans over the table towards me. ‘Could be a lot worse, Amie. Gavin’s gonna sweat, but he’d be doing that anyway. Better he sweat it out in a rehab place.’
‘The rest of it…’ Dad flicks a finger at the ziplock bag full of drugs on our kitchen table. ‘You return that to me, Jared can put it in impound. Meanwhile, I’ll give you what you’re owed. You go back to Mildy looking like a good boy.’
Harris nods. Dad’s face gets that satisfied look, the one he always wears after he’s solved a particularly tricky tinkering job. ‘Harris, you’re doing a good thing. Get more info on the local batch and I’ll pass it on to CIU. If we can break up the operation before delivery, that’ll be a great help. That’ll make a dent.’
‘Mildura will start to look unappealing as a drug-holiday destination,’ Harris says.
‘Exactly. And if this guy, Leon, goes down, then even better.’ Dad’s mouth makes a bitter twist. ‘I hate guys like him. Local kingpins acting like the bloody mafia. They saw Breaking Bad on the telly once and decided they’d give it a go – get-rich-quick scheme. Top up the old superannuation. They’re like a poison. They don’t give a shit about the community they’re living in, the community they’re destroying. It’s all about the money.’
‘Leon’s a poisonous bastard, I know that much.’ Harris’s lips curl in a similar way. His face has a zealous anger. ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing someone knock him off his perch.’
‘Well, you could be the little rock that brings Goliath down, mate.’
‘Sounds mighty appealing.’ Harris stands, pushing back his chair with a creak. He swipes the plastic baggie off the table.
I’m glad it’s gone, out of sight. That doesn’t mean I’m not still thinking about it. ‘What’re you doing now?’
‘Gotta make delivery,’ he says, shrugging. ‘And I’ve gotta get outta here, hey. I parked miles away, and snuck in quiet, but the less time I spend here, the better.’
‘Good,’ Dad says. ‘When’s your next check in with Amie?’
‘Dunno.’ Harris looks at me. ‘How’re we gonna work this? Like I said, this is my last trip to Ouyen for a while…’
I’m honestly not sure. I rub my forehead. ‘We need to work out a new system and we need to talk about it. If you’re dropping that off to Gavin, then meet me after. In about an hour, say?’
‘I gotta stop and see my dad, too,’ he says, very deliberately not frowning. ‘Gimme an hour and a half. Not here, but.’
‘At the rez, past the old Lutheran Church? We can walk in from different directions. I’ll take the camera so it looks legit.’
‘Cool. See you at the rez a bit before four.’ He ducks out.
Dad turns to me, looking quietly triumphant. ‘And you’re still worried about him?’
I cross my arms over my chest. ‘Yeah, actually, I am. He seems stronger today, sure, but it’s not always like that.’
‘But it’s working for him, Ames. You can see that, right? And he’s good at it. He’s a bloody natural.’
Harris does seem more relaxed, I’ll give Dad that. But I’m thinking about the bigger picture. ‘So, I guess you’ll be arresting Gavin Donovan soon.’
‘Yeah, I’d better ring Jared and give him the heads-up.’ Dad slugs back the rest of his tea, pushes out of his chair. Sees my expression. ‘Don’t stress about Gavin. This’ll be good for him. He might not look at it that way, but it’s true. And don’t stress about Harris. Did you see his face? He looks like he’s finally found his calling.’
Dad’s face is lit, too, with that strange fire, just like Harris. They’re both glowing with this energy, eyes on the prize. And they get off on it: it’s the Secret Agent dream every six-year-old boy has. I’d almost be excited about it, too, but I saw Craig Davies. He and his sister will have those scars – mental and physical – forever.
Harris has enough scars. He doesn’t need to add to the collection.
*
When I arrive at the rez, hiking socks rolled down and my camera in my hand, I discover Harris is already here, sitting half-hidden under a big tree. He’s taken off his hoodie, and his threadbare T-shirt has spots of red on it. There’s a butterfly closure on a cut high on his forehead, near the hairline. The skin around the cut looks red, puffy.
‘What the hell happened?’ I plonk down beside him, dump my camera and reach over to examine the cut. It’s not bad, but it’s fresh.
Harris shies away. ‘S’nothing.’ He sighs. ‘Dad got pissy when I showed up. He was in the middle of having a shit-fit, then he got all gaspy and bent over and stuff. I had to take him in to the hospital. They’ve admitted him for observation, but I think he’s gonna be there for a few days.’
‘The cancer?’
‘Yeah. It’s in his liver. He looked really yellow. At least someone else is looking after him now.’
‘And the cut?’
Harris colours, looks at the water of the reservoir. ‘He threw a bottle at me.’
‘Bloody hell –’
‘It’s my own fault. Shoulda ducked faster.’ He picks at the flat stones on the ground between us, setting them on top of each other in a little cairn. ‘Told the docs to call me if there’s a problem. But I’m kinda glad he’s in the hospital. Now I don’t need to worry about what he’s getting up to without me.’
‘I still don’t understand why you bother,’ I blurt.
Harris meets my eyes. ‘He’s my father. And believe me, I’ve been uncivil in the past. But if I treat him like he’s always treated me, then I’m as bad as he is.’ His sober expression changes into a sad smile. ‘I’m not tryin’ to be holy. I just want him to know that real people, normal people, they don’t act the way he does. I want him to know I’m different.’
‘You are different.’ I squint at him. ‘In fact, today you’re really different. Did something happen up in Mildura?’
He shrugs. ‘Ah, shit… Yeah. I got some bad news, I guess you’d say. This kid in the house, he’s one of the street dealers, I got to know him a bit. Then I found out he’s on the gear. Kinda spun my head around.’
Now the expression of anger I saw on his face earlier makes sense. ‘Fired you up about this narc work, did it?’
‘Yeah.’ He straightens, tucks his right foot under his bad leg, leans back on his hands. ‘Anyway, I’m hoping that once this batch delivery comes up, I’ll be able to pull out. The whole crew’ll get done, Leon will get busted, and my job will be over.’
I pick at the stones he’s abandoned. ‘I can’t say I’ll be sad to see the finale.’
The idea that this ordeal might be finished soon gives me a warm feeling inside. But then I remember: once the job is done, Harris will be gone. That puts a dampener on my fuzzy glow. I remind myself this isn’t about me and Harris, and the final outcome is still far from decided.
Harris seems to be considering an end to his involvement though. ‘Apart from the general awfulness of it all, I’m bloody sick of sitting in Flamingos, listening to the boys piss and moan. I mean, it’s not as if they really like each other or get on. They’re just hanging out together because of the job. I guess they’d say they were mates. But they chip at each other all the time, and dish shit… Sometimes I feel like they just put up with each other, and with me, because they have to. Because they’re stuck with it.’
‘Yeah, that sounds kind of weird.’ I lean back on my own hands. The afternoon is sultry. ‘Most of the guys around here seem to get on with each other okay. They’re blokey, but in a nice way. They’re not aggro – they help each other out. They’ve got manners too, some of them.’
‘Well, they’ve got manners when your dad’s around, that’s for sure.’ He raises an eyebrow at me. ‘I’m kinda amazed he let you hang out with any of the local guys, considering he knows the dirt on all of them.’
You included, I think, but I’m not gonna say that. I push my shoulder against his. ‘Hey, if I wanna go out with someone, I’ll go out with them. I don’t need Dad vetting applicants. That would just be creepy, and unfair.’
He eases back onto his elbows. The sun from across the rez tints his face and chest gold. ‘So he didn’t vet Nick Partridge, when you went out with him?’
‘No!’ My shock-horror face has a blush to it, though, I’m sure. ‘Well, not much.’
‘I’ll bet.’ He grins. ‘How long were you and Nick together?’
I arch one eyebrow. ‘That’s not really any of your business, is it?’
‘I know.’ He waves a persistent fly away. ‘Sorry, I know it’s not my business.’
But I don’t want to close off this conversation. I take a breath, gather my courage. ‘Well, in the spirit of sharing…’
‘What, about six months?’
‘Eight months,’ I say quietly.
‘Wow.’
I nudge him again. ‘What are you “wow”-ing about? You got it on with almost every eligible girl between here and the border.’
‘Yeah, well…’ He purses his lips.
‘But you never fell for anyone.’
‘I fell for someone.’ He looks away. ‘She was involved with someone else.’
‘When has that ever stopped you?’
That surprises a laugh out of him. ‘Hey! Jesus, I’m not a complete hound.’ He looks at me, away. ‘I mean, I tried to tell her, but she just… She wasn’t interested.’
‘Are you talking about Rachel Watts?’
He shrugs. I get the impression the knock-back hurt, but he’s not going to moan about it.
‘Well, that’s news,’ I say.
‘What, that I fell for someone?’
‘Yeah. I always thought love ’em and leave ’em was your style.’
Both his eyebrows take a hike. ‘My style? I have a style?’
‘Around this district you do.’ I grin.
‘Jesus…’ He laughs. ‘But you, though. Eight months – phew. So you and Nick were serious?’
Which is a euphemism for sex, like sex is serious. I never got that. Sex has always been pretty fun, as far as I’m concerned, and I’m surprised Harris, of all people, would subscribe to a different philosophy.
‘I guess,’ I say. ‘But me and Nick were never completely…’ I sink back onto my elbows; I’ve tried to figure it out in my head before. ‘I mean, a relationship isn’t all breathy sighs and flowers, is it? It’s more how you fit together. Whether you get on. Make each other laugh – and think. Whether you can talk about stuff with each other. Genuine stuff.’
He considers that. ‘Whether you can both be your real selves with each other.’
‘Yes.’
‘But what if you’re not a good fit in bed?’
I shrug. ‘I think that’s part of it. If you’re a good fit in life, you’ll be a good fit physically.’
‘So you and Nick weren’t a good fit? On either level?’
‘No. I mean, Nick’s a great guy. We fit okay with some things, which is why we were together so long. But mostly we were just…’
‘Wrong pieces.’
‘What?’
‘Like in a jigsaw. Some pieces, they look like they should fit, but you get them together and they don’t.’
‘True.’
‘But the sex was okay?’
I laugh because I can feel my cheeks heating up again. The setting sun is striking us square on, so maybe that’s the warmth I’m feeling. ‘I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you… Yes. No. It was okay.’
‘Just okay?’ He makes the air quotes with his fingers.
I roll my eyes at him. ‘Well, I don’t have the vast range of experience you’ve had, so…’
He snorts and grins. ‘Trust me, if it’s good, you know.’
I squint at him. ‘How do you know?’
There’s a pause. He swallows, looks away. ‘You know.’
‘That’s specific.’
‘Fuck, I can’t tell you how you…’ He laughs, and the sound is slightly helpless. ‘It’s just… Your whole body feels alive.’
‘But you’ve never had sex with anyone you really loved,’ I point out.
‘So?’
‘So maybe it’s different then.’
‘I guess.’ He shrugs again. ‘Maybe it is. Maybe it will be.’
I want to look away when he says that, but I can’t. Harris has my eyes locked up with his. The pause goes on and on, and my blood moves fast inside me. My pulse thunders in my ears. Harris licks his bottom lip, and I stare and stare, and –
Something else starts thundering. It’s my phone.
The interruption jars me into full consciousness. When I fumble my phone out of my jeans pocket and see the name above the number, I get another cold splash of alertness. It’s my cousin.
‘Oh shit –’
‘You better get that,’ Harris says.
‘Yeah, hang on –’ I thumb the phone to accept the call. ‘Beena?’
‘Oh, thank god,’ my cousin says. ‘I was worried I’d only get your voicemail, and it’s getting late in the day.’
‘What, what is it?’ The tone of her voice brings me sitting up. ‘Are you okay? Is everybody all right?’ I wince: I sound like my dad, and his ‘all right’s.
‘It’s Nani,’ she says. ‘No, no, please don’t be anxious, okay? She’s fine. I mean, she’s fine now. But we had a problem today because Jas is on her honeymoon, and Mum was working, and I went out to the back garden just for a moment –’
My voice sounds odd and far away. ‘What happened?’
‘Nani wandered off. We still have no idea how she managed to walk so far, she was only in chappals, for god’s sake –’
My eyes close on a heartbeat. ‘Is she okay?’
‘She tried to cross the road at Deakin Street, you know how busy it is there…’
For a second my stomach seems to fly up into my throat until I register that Bee’s explaining further.
‘…anyway, she must have got a fright, or heard a car horn or something, because she fell back onto the pavement. That’s what the paramedic said at the scene.’
‘You called the ambulance?’ When I glance over, I see Harris is gazing at me intently.
‘Yes, Mum called them as soon as she found her. But look, Nani’s fine, she wasn’t hurt, just a bit shaken. And we’re all a bit shaken. This is why I’m calling you, because Mum and I have work tomorrow, and then I have classes after lunchtime –’
‘You want me to come and look after Nani,’ I say, realising where this is going.
‘Yes. I’m so sorry to call you about this, but Mum suggested you might be able to come up for a few more days until we can sort out a solution.’ Bee exhales deeply after getting all this out. ‘I know you’ve just arrived back home and I know you have work of your own. But we thought you might have a bit more flexibility.’
I don’t hesitate. ‘It’s totally fine. Not a problem. I can be up by tonight, if you like.’
Beena sighs again, and this time it sounds more relaxed. ‘Oh, Amita, thank you so much. Mum will be so relieved. I don’t know what’s going on with Nani, she’s never wandered off like this before…’
‘Don’t worry, Bee, it’ll be okay. We’ll work something out.’
‘Oh, thank you, thank you! Phew. I was so stressed, and we’re all still a bit muddled after the wedding, and Nani, she’ll be so happy to see you again. She talks about you all the time lately.’
‘I know.’ I’m surprised to find my voice has thickened. I get a hold of myself. ‘Look, tell Auntie I’ll be there eight at the latest. I’ll get away as soon as I can.’
I round out the conversation with Beena and disconnect. My arm feels warm; Harris has moved closer to me. He’s pressing his arm gently against mine, propping me up. ‘Is your nanna okay?’
‘She wandered away from the house this afternoon, and it sounds as if she nearly got hit by a car….’ I see his expression and hurry on. ‘No, she’s all right. But Jasminder is still on her honeymoon, and Beena and my aunt both have responsibilities tomorrow, so they’ve asked me to come and help out.’
Harris frowns at the news. ‘Is she really losing it, your nanna?’
‘I don’t know. She’s become very absent-minded lately. She thought I was my mum last time I was there. But this wandering thing is new.’
‘Will you be okay to drive? You’ve just come off shift.’
‘I’ll be all right. Anyway, there’s no way around it. The family needs me.’ I let my shoulders settle back, give Harris a rueful smile. ‘So. It looks as if we’re both going back to Mildura.’
He exhales softly and looks away, but not before I see the flash of his eyes.