Honeybee

by Craig Silvey;

  ‘If I can get it going, can I come with you guys when you do a collection?’ I asked.

  Mark and Dane laughed. Steve shook his head.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Mark. ‘Give the kid a crack at it.’

  ‘He’ll fuck the motor up,’ said Steve.

  ‘It’s already fucked,’ said Whippy.

  ‘Come on mate,’ said Dane. ‘Sit down and have a drink.’

  Steve slowly got to his feet.

  ‘Alright. But I’m watching everything you do.’

  I kneeled next to the bike. It was different to the Black Shadow, but I could recognise most of the parts.

  I pushed the start button. The engine turned but it didn’t catch.

  ‘Tried that,’ said Steve. He smirked and slapped a mosquito on his arm.

  They were all watching me. I checked the spark plugs and tested each one against a head bolt. They worked fine. Vic had taught me that if the bike was firing okay, then it was usually a problem with the fuel. I looked over the engine, and then I saw the filter and I got excited. I had an idea about what might be wrong.

  I removed the fuel filter housing and popped it open. It was really dirty. I took the filter out and it was almost black with grit. The tube it fed into was clogged too. I took it off and used a piece of wire to unplug it. Then I cleaned the filter and the casing using a rag soaked in petrol from the tank.

  ‘Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?’ Steve asked.

  ‘I’m cleaning it. It needs replacing though.’

  I refit the parts. They were still watching me. I was nervous when I pushed the start button. The motor whirred but it wouldn’t turn over. I didn’t want to flood it, so I stopped and waited.

  ‘It’s alright mate,’ Dane said. ‘It was a good try.’

  Steve finished his beer and stood up.

  ‘Come on, out of the way.’

  ‘Wait.’

  I tried the button again. After a few seconds, the engine fired. It was loud. I gave it a couple of big revs. I smiled.

  Steve was shocked. Dane and Mark and Whippy threw their hands up and laughed. They were happy for me.

  I cut the engine.

  ‘Where did you learn that?’ Steve asked.

  I shrugged.

  ‘So can I come out with you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Hey, you gave him your word,’ Mark said.

  ‘No I didn’t. You did.’

  ‘He’s just saved your arse a lot of money,’ said Whippy. ‘Do I need to remind you what you were up to at his age?’

  Steve looked at me.

  ‘Don’t tell your mother.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what?’

  My mum opened the screen door and stepped out. She was wearing a short green kaftan and her hair was messy.

  ‘Nothing,’ Steve said. ‘Go back inside.’

  ‘But it’s time,’ she said.

  ‘No it’s not.’

  ‘Yes it is.’

  ‘No. You had it already this morning. Go inside, and don’t ask me again.’

  ‘I didn’t have it!’

  ‘Get inside!’

  My mum went back in and Steve shook his head. I knew what she wanted. Steve had started locking the Fentanyl in the hallway storage cupboard and he kept the key with him all the time.

  We heard loud bangs from inside the house.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Steve said. He got up and went in, slamming the screen door behind him. I followed.

  My mum was trying to break the slide bolt on the cupboard door with a house brick we used as a doorstop.

  ‘Sarah! Put that down!’

  ‘Fuck you! Stop telling me what to do!’

  Steve took the brick out of her hands and pushed her back and held her wrists. She struggled.

  ‘I need it!’ she said.

  ‘No you don’t.’

  ‘I can make my own decisions!’

  ‘Bullshit you can.’

  ‘I’ve handled my whole life on my own. I don’t need you!’

  ‘You’d still be living in your car if it wasn’t for me. Or you’d be in jail.’

  ‘Fuck you! This is your fault! You started this shit. You started it! You knew what would happen. You knew!’

  ‘My fault, eh? Never your fault, is it? I’m doing what’s best for you. You can’t be trusted. I’m trying to help you.’

  ‘Bullshit! You just want to control me. That’s what this is. When you lost everything because of your insurance bullshit, this is how you kept me on a leash. This is worse than fucking jail! I can’t see my friends without your permission. I can’t even go and get a TAFE certificate because you don’t want me working.’

  ‘I didn’t hear you complaining when there was money coming in, when I was away for weeks busting my pick to keep you in bottles of fucking chardonnay! Didn’t hear a peep then, did I? Didn’t see you looking for work to make my life easier!’

  ‘You think I want any of this?’

  Steve pushed her onto the hallway floor and stood over her.

  ‘So leave then. Fuck off. Try it. I’ll have the DCS on you within a day. One drug test and you’ll know what it’s really like to lose everything. You don’t know what rock bottom is. You’re a spoiled rich girl who’s allergic to work. And if I catch you trying to open this door again, you’re gone. Is that clear?’

  I didn’t want to watch anymore. I went outside and sat down.

  ‘Hey, chin up kid,’ Dane said.

  I pointed at the esky.

  ‘Can I have one?’

  Dane and Mark looked at each other. Mark shrugged. He threw me a can of bourbon and cola.

  I opened it and took a long swallow. It tasted too sweet and it had a bitter aftertaste.

  ‘Slow down, chief,’ said Dane.

  They kept arguing inside, but I blocked it out. After a while I heard a door slam. A few seconds later, Steve came outside. He slapped the can out of my hand and it rolled down the driveway. Then he pointed at Mark.

  ‘We’re going.’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who, the Thornlie guy?’

  ‘Nah. Different one. I’ll explain on the way. Dano?’

  Dane stood up and rubbed his hands together.

  ‘Let’s crack some heads!’

  Whippy stood up and said he had deliveries to make.

  Steve opened the door to his car and looked at me.

  ‘You coming or what?’

  Whippy had been recommending Steve to other independent dealers who needed help chasing up their debts. After a while, all sorts of people were asking Steve to retrieve things for them. Some had loaned money or possessions that they never got back, others had their stuff stolen.

  A lady called Teneille had messaged Steve a few days ago, he explained as he drove. She had broken up with her boyfriend Brodie two months before, and they had agreed to share the custody of their one-year-old Rottweiler, Frank. But Teneille had since got a new partner, and now Brodie refused to give the dog back. He mistreated Frank because he knew it would upset her. Brodie had also taken six thousand dollars out of their shared savings account and used the money to buy a ute. Teneille wanted to take Brodie to court, but she couldn’t afford it and it would take too long. So she had asked Steve to help get her dog and the money back. She gave him an address in Huntingdale where Brodie was staying with his friend Tyson. Tyson worked at a bar in the city, so he was out most nights.

  After thirty minutes on the road, we turned onto Tyson’s street. Steve drove slowly past the house. He parked fifty metres away and switched the car off. The lights were on inside. There was a blue ute in the driveway.

  ‘What’s that, a Falcon BF? XR6?’ Mark asked.

  ‘Get me those papers out of the glovebox,’ Steve said to Mark.

  ‘We good to go?’ Dane asked. He rubbed the top of my shaved head. ‘Come on kid.’

  ‘Heads down,’ said Steve. ‘It’s a shithole neighbourhood, but some of thes
e houses still might have cameras.’

  We got out and walked towards the house. Steve and Mark looked over the ute in the driveway. Then a dog started barking, and a security light came on. Through the slats in the side gate I saw Frank chained up in the backyard. He was so skinny I could see his ribs. It made me angry.

  ‘It’s okay, Frank,’ I whispered. ‘We’re here to rescue you.’

  The front door opened.

  ‘Who the fuck are youse?’

  Brodie looked like he was in his early twenties. He was thin and pale with greasy hair. He wore long black shorts and no shirt.

  Steve smiled and pretended to be really friendly.

  ‘Hey mate, I’m Tyson’s cousin, Benny. How you doing?’

  Steve shook his hand.

  ‘Ty’s at work.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Steve frowned and looked at Dane, who shrugged. ‘Fuck, he said he’d be home. You staying here with him?’

  ‘Yeah, just for a few weeks.’

  ‘Hasn’t got you paying rent has he?’

  ‘Nah, yeah, I kick in a bit.’

  Mark was crouching next to the car. He called out.

  ‘This a 2007 model?’

  ‘2008.’

  ‘Many clicks on it?’

  ‘Bit over two hundred thousand.’

  Mark nodded.

  ‘Custom rims eh? What these set you back?’

  ‘I dunno. It was the previous owner.’

  Brodie was starting to look concerned.

  ‘Are you all Ty’s cousins or what? He never mentioned you.’

  ‘Fucking hot tonight, hey?’ Steve smiled. ‘Got a beer?’

  Brodie hesitated, but he opened the door.

  ‘Sure, come in.’

  We walked in and stood in the lounge room while Brodie went to the kitchen. I could hear him rummaging around in the fridge.

  ‘There’s nothing cold,’ he called. ‘I think there’s some warm cans in the laundry.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, mate. We won’t stay too long.’

  Brodie came back into the lounge room and sat on the couch. We all stayed standing. I noticed Mark slip out of the room.

  ‘Is that your dog out there?’ Steve asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  Dane stood close to Brodie with his hands behind his back.

  ‘Is it your dog?’ Steve asked again.

  ‘Yeah. I just said that.’

  Brodie frowned and looked up at Dane.

  ‘You right there mate? Stop fuckin’ starin’ at me.’

  Dane kept staring.

  ‘It’s not your dog though, is it?’ Steve said.

  ‘Yes, it’s my fuckin’ dog. Why do you keep asking me that? What the fuck is going on? Why don’t you go see Ty at work or something?’

  ‘Nah,’ said Steve. ‘I don’t really know the bloke. And I don’t really want to.’

  Brodie was confused and suspicious. He tried to stand up, but Dane pushed him back down.

  ‘Fuck you doin’?’

  Mark came back into the room just as Steve cleared away an ashtray and a pizza box and sat on the coffee table facing Brodie.

  ‘Well,’ said Steve, ‘the first thing we’re doing is taking Frank back to his owner.’

  ‘Who? Teneille? Get fucked. She got that dog for me.’

  ‘That’s none of my business, and I really don’t care. I fucking hate dogs. But the other thing we’re doing is getting the money you owe her. That is my business.’

  ‘Fuck off! I don’t owe her shit.’

  ‘Yes you do, Brodie. You owe her the six grand you took from a shared savings account.’

  ‘That’s my fuckin money.’

  ‘I have screenshots of the transaction history. You didn’t make a single payment into that account. Teneille paid the breeder fifteen hundred dollars for that dog, plus the vet fees.’

  Brodie shook his head.

  ‘Get the fuck out of here. I’m not paying shit, and you’re not taking my dog. I’m not scared of you, cunt.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be scared of me,’ said Steve.

  He pointed at Dane.

  ‘But you should be scared of him.’

  He pointed at Mark.

  ‘And him.’

  Then he pointed at me.

  ‘And him.’

  Brodie looked up and noticed me for the first time. I rolled my shoulders back the way Dane did and stared at him.

  ‘Fuck you lookin’ at?’ he said. ‘Huh?’

  Dane suddenly grabbed Brodie’s throat and squeezed. Brodie squirmed. He went red in the face and his eyes were wide. He tried to pull Dane’s fingers back but he couldn’t.

  Steve kept his voice calm.

  ‘We’re not leaving until you transfer that money. Save yourself some pain and let’s deal with it now.’

  Dane let go of Brodie’s throat. Brodie sucked in air.

  ‘I don’t have any fucking money. And I’m not paying shit to her, I told you. Fuck you.’

  Dane lifted Brodie up easily. He pinned his arms behind his back. Mark kneeled and wrapped his legs up. He looked at me.

  ‘Hit him.’

  I froze. I took a step back and shook my head.

  ‘Come on mate, you wanted to be here.’

  Brodie struggled. He was sweating and full of fear and anger. Outside, I could hear Frank barking.

  ‘Do it!’ Mark shouted.

  I stepped forwards and punched Brodie in the stomach.

  ‘With your hips, like I told you,’ Mark said. ‘Fuckin’ hit him! Come on.’

  I changed my stance and I punched Brodie in the chest. It hurt my wrist.

  ‘That’s it. Again.’

  Brodie wrestled and tried to tear himself free.

  ‘You little cunt!’ he said. He spat at me.

  I got angry and I got mean. I stepped in and started swinging like he was the heavy bag. I wanted to hurt him. I looked at his skinny torso and it disgusted me and I wanted to ruin it. I focused on his ribs and his stomach and his flat chest. I could feel him tensing and flexing. I hit him with fast combinations. I imagined my fist going through his body. I hit him so hard that Dane had to brace himself.

  Then I hit Brodie with a hard left cross and he went limp. He stopped struggling. Dane threw him back onto the couch. Mark stepped in and grabbed me and held me back. My hands were throbbing.

  ‘You did good, you did good,’ he whispered. I felt him put something in my pocket.

  Steve tapped Brodie on the knee.

  ‘You okay, mate? You listening now? Mate, we are not leaving until she gets her money.’

  ‘I don’t have it.’

  ‘You got credit cards?

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I have some bad news for you, Brodie.’

  Brodie flinched and put his hands up.

  ‘I’ll pay her back, alright? I get paid next Thursday. I’ll get some cash off my parents. I’ll get it to her next week.’

  ‘No you won’t. I hear it every time. It’s the same bullshit.’

  ‘I will,’ said Brodie. ‘I promise I’ll pay.’

  ‘You’re right. You will pay.’

  Steve took a pen and the sheet of paper from the glovebox out of his back pocket.

  ‘Just write your details on here and sign your name.’

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Vehicle transfer papers.’

  ‘My ute? What the fuck? It’s worth like eight grand.’

  ‘Probably closer to seven,’ said Mark. He had the keys in his hand.

  ‘You’re not taking my ute,’ said Brodie.

  ‘Well that’s up to you mate,’ said Steve. ‘I’m actually a very decent bloke. I know you don’t believe that right now, but you’ll come around when you have a chance to think about it, because I’m about to make you a reasonable offer. I’m giving you the chance to keep your ute. As you say, you’re getting paid next week, and you might be able to scrape some other money together. If every cent you owe goes back into Teneille’s
account by Thursday, I’ll bring your ute back and these papers will be torn up. If not, well, you’re out a dog and seven grand.’

  Brodie shook his head.

  ‘You’re a fucking cunt.’

  ‘Don’t hurt my feelings, Brodie. I didn’t get you into this mess. Fill it out and sign it. If you don’t, old mate here will snap each of your fingers until you do.’

  Brodie took the pen. His hands were shaking. He started writing.

  Steve kept talking in his calm voice.

  ‘I know you’re angry, and I know right now you’re thinking about getting back at Teneille, so let me make this crystal clear: you’re not going to contact her ever again. Not a text, not a call, not an email, nothing. If you come near her or you threaten her, if anything happens to her, it’s us you’ll be seeing. This isn’t some bullshit VRO where maybe you’ll get a court date and a fine. It’ll be immediate, and it will be nasty. And if you even think about calling that ute in stolen, or claiming insurance, you’ll be getting more than a few slaps from a welterweight. This man here will find you and he will take your eyes out. I’m not fucking with you. You don’t want to know who we run with. Be humble and take the loss. Use your head. Tomorrow’s a new day.’

  Brodie signed his name and threw the paper at Steve.

  Mark jangled the keys.

  ‘We good?’

  Steve stood and put the papers in his pocket. He kicked Brodie’s foot.

  ‘You hear what I just said?’

  Brodie nodded. He was furious.

  We went outside. Mark got in the ute and started it. Dane opened the side gate and I followed him down to the backyard. There was no grass, just brick paving and weeds. Frank barked and bared his teeth and pulled against the chain.

  Dane stepped back.

  ‘Jesus Christ. It’s a fucking bear.’

  Dane was afraid. But so was Frank.

  ‘It’s okay, Frank,’ I said. I stepped forwards. ‘It’s okay. Shh. It’s okay.’

  Frank backed away and kept barking. I crept closer. Dane put his hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Careful mate.’

  I ignored him and kept talking to Frank.

  ‘You’re a good boy. You’re a good boy. We’re going to take you back home. Your mum’s going to look after you. It’s okay. It’s okay.’

  I squatted down and held my palms out. Frank whined and licked his lips. He bobbed his head down. Then he sniffed my hands.

  ‘It’s okay Frank,’ I whispered. ‘It’s going to be okay.’