Coming Home to Roost

by Mary-anne Scott

  ‘Do I need a lawyer?’

  ‘I don’t know. Do you?’

  What sort of a question is that? ‘Maybe I’ll come back—’

  ‘Why don’t you just take me through the day’s events?’

  ‘Am I under arrest?’

  ‘No, you’re not. But someone you work for is seriously hurt and we need to know exactly how he got so messed up.’

  Elliot explained the electric drill and how Arnie had used it to isolate the circuit. One officer took all the notes and didn’t speak but the questioning officer didn’t seem to get what had happened. Elliot stood up to demonstrate.

  ‘Say I want to work on this power-point,’ Elliot said, pointing to a plug on the wall, ‘and I’m going to be taking the plastic shield off. I have to make sure it’s not live before I unscrew the cover, right?’

  Both policemen nodded as they watched. ‘So I could plug a kettle into it,’ and Elliot plugged an imaginary kettle into the socket. ‘Then I would go over to the mains and switch off or disable the switches until I turned off the one that was feeding the kettle. As soon as the kettle stopped boiling, I’d know I’ve disabled the right circuit.’

  ‘Gotcha,’ the questioning officer said. ‘So you switched off the drill, and Arnie didn’t know you’d done that. You reckon he thought he’d switched the drill off at the mains, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘How come you know this now but you didn’t know it this morning?’

  ‘The builder, Stan, told me when he came in. He figured out what had happened when he saw his drill on the ground.’

  ‘Okay. There’ll be a formal inquiry, but for now you’re free to go.’ The other policeman stood up to open the door for Elliot. ‘We’ll have a chat, speak to some experts and write this lot up.’

  Arnie was separated from the nurse’s station by a window and he lay still, hooked up to monitors and breathing tubes. His chest had been shaved in patches and white squares of plastic were stuck to his bare skin.

  The nurse moved a chair to beside Arnie’s bed and left Elliot on his own. He watched the machines breathing, charting, feeding, and he watched Arnie fighting for his life.

  It made him remember when Rick had been injured and ensnared by hospital machinery and he ached for their old brotherly bond.

  The beeps and whirrs and the shaded lighting of Arnie’s partition had a numbing effect, which Elliot gradually gave in to as he let his head drop back.

  ‘You’ve been out for the count.’ A different nurse smiled at him as she hooked up a new plastic bag on the stand above Arnie. ‘You’ve been snoring in that chair for well over an hour.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘We like visitors like you; no trouble at all,’ she laughed. ‘Are you the one who found him?’

  ‘Ah, well, yes. I was there.’ Elliot rubbed his face and looked down at his hands. ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’s stable but the specialist will be around tomorrow morning. I’ll just squeeze through here,’ the nurse said as she shifted across to check Arnie’s printouts, and her hip caught on the sheet covering Arnie. As it dragged off his leg, Elliot found himself staring at a tattoo on Arnie’s thigh — of a rooster. He felt spooked.

  ‘He’s got a tattoo on his leg,’ Elliot said.

  ‘Yes, I know, dear. There’s a pig on this leg over here,’ the nurse said. ‘Now go and have some dinner, eh?’ She smiled kindly, too kindly, and he could only nod.

  The fire had gone out at Arnie’s and the cats, real flotsam and jetsam now of Arnie’s misfortune, had their tails tucked and they bumped and circled Elliot, hungry and protesting. The answerphone flashed ten messages — most from other electricians but one from his father and one from a person at Health and Safety.

  ‘I haven’t heard back from you since your visit to the police station.’ Dad’s recorded message boomed around the empty room. He sounded annoyed and Elliot could picture the set of his mouth in between sentences. ‘We’re heading down anyway. Your mother thinks we should come and see how we can help. We’ll be there tomorrow about midday; let me know where to meet you — ring me.’

  Elliot knew it would be good to see his parents and god knows, he could use some help, but they were another set of balls for him to juggle. The Lena bomb was still ticking and he knew he needed to diffuse that too. He decided to book his parents somewhere to stay near the hospital.

  Someone at the Health and Safety office wanted Elliot to call back and confirm that he could meet at the Old Brewery at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. They left an after-hours number so Elliot dialled it straightaway.

  ‘I can be there,’ he said. ‘Is it okay if I bring my father?’

  ‘By all means. Your inspector is a Ms Jennifer Butler, and would you listen for a moment please while I read you the situation.’ Elliot listened while the man cleared his voice and began. ‘The site has been served with a prohibition notice. This notice ensures all activity, process or use of equipment is banned until the inspector is satisfied that the hazard that harmed Mr Cashwell has been adequately controlled.’

  The formal words had a chilling effect and Elliot’s jaw clenched as he listened. Of course the hazard couldn’t be adequately controlled because he was the bloody hazard. But he said, ‘Okay, got that. I’ll be there tomorrow.’

  The next job was to ring his father and make sure he would be able to come to the meeting at the Old Brewery. It was after ten now and Dad sounded flustered and confused as if he’d been woken up. ‘Yeah, okay,’ he barked, ‘I’ve already said I’ll meet you at the hospital at midday; you don’t need to check on me.’

  So much for let me know where to meet you and ring me. Elliot reheated his curry and ate it out of the plastic container. The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes and the rubbish bag was overflowing. He’d need to sort it out before his mother arrived in case she came to the house. He watched TV and thought about his next problem — Lena.

  He had the perfect excuse now to not call her, or to call and put her off. He reckoned he could scare Lena with his possible slippery slide into prison if Arnie died, or he could use electrical terms she wouldn’t understand and talk about culpability and liability.

  But according to Zeya what a person says or does or thinks sets karma in motion and Elliot figured he’d had enough karma to last a lifetime.

  He sat in Arnie’s La-Z-Boy chair and held the phone. The flickering advertisement on the TV unhelpfully showed a baby emptying a box of tissues onto the floor.

  He imagined a big occasion like Christmas and pictured a little dude shredding paper and squeezing the hell out of a plastic toy. Elliot thought maybe his kid would re-wrap the presents and hand them out again the way he and Rick used to do. He wondered if Rick would play with the baby, be an uncle. Somehow he doubted it.

  Either way, he had to deal with Lena. He rang her number and she answered straight away. ‘Hi,’ he said.

  ‘Good. You’ve rung.’ She sounded alert, ready for anything.

  ‘I can meet you tomorrow. I have a friend in hospital so I’ll text you when I’ve finished visiting and I’ll meet you at the chairs in the hospital’s main foyer. It’ll be tomorrow night.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll wait for your text.’

  She was going to say something else but Elliot wanted to finish. ‘See ya, then.’

  ‘Bye.’

  His armpits tingled and sweat broke out on his body. For such a short conversation it seemed a big reaction.

  Elliot climbed out of the old chair and poured himself a big slug of Arnie’s rum. A calamity quantity, Arnie would’ve called it, and he toasted the old bugger.

  Dorice was at the hospital when Elliot arrived in the morning and they went over Arnie’s task book together in the waiting room. She’d cancelled most of the upcoming jobs; none of the electricians wanted Arnie’s unqualified off-sider to do the work. ‘What am I going to do?’ Elliot asked Dorice. He hunched his shoulders and wrapped his hands around his takeaway coffee. ‘Everything�
��s ruined.’

  ‘It’ll come right. Arnie had business ideas for you but he kept delaying the discussion. I don’t know what was holding him back,’ Dorice said.

  ‘He wanted me to deal with something — a girl problem — and I was avoiding it.’

  ‘He didn’t tell me, but I knew something was amiss.’ She wiped her eyes with her finger pushed into a lace handkerchief.

  ‘I wish I could tell him ’cause I’m going to deal with it now.’

  ‘He’ll know that, dear. He’ll know.’

  ‘Is there anything else?’ Dad said. He tapped his pen on the steering wheel of his ute and looked at the list on his knee. ‘I don’t want to be caught napping by this, ahh—’ He flipped the page, ‘by Ms Butler.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Spit it out if there’s more; I can’t help if I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, it’s probably not relevant—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No, nothing. It’s definitely not relevant.’

  ‘I get the feeling you’re not telling me the whole story.’

  ‘It’s just that Arnie and I were arguing before the accident.’

  ‘Arguing? He’s your boss! Your bloody generation can’t be told what to do. Hey?’ Dad looked over his driving glasses. ‘Hey?’

  Elliot knew he couldn’t answer for his whole generation but he agreed, just to keep Dad’s hair on.

  ‘Tell me,’ Dad said.

  ‘It wasn’t a work thing.’

  Dad looked in Elliot’s direction but his gaze went past Elliot and out the window. ‘Say it, Elliot.’

  ‘It’s about Lena.’

  Dad’s head jerked towards Elliot then, as if someone had smacked the side of his face. ‘Lena? What? Not that bloody trollop you shacked up with last year? I thought the idea of you coming down here was to get away from her?’

  ‘Yeah, it was.’

  ‘So she’s hanging around, is she?’

  ‘No, she’s pregnant and she says I’m the father.’

  Elliot was sure Dad had stopped breathing. His eyes were owl-like, unblinking and wide, and his mouth moved without producing any sound. Elliot looked away.

  ‘God almighty,’ his father said at last.

  ‘Arnie wanted me to tell you but I kept hoping Lena would trip over her feet and the baby would disappear.’

  ‘Arnie knew?’ Dad shook his head. ‘And you can’t say that about the baby. However bad this may seem, you can’t wish ill on people, especially not a baby.’ He turned the key in the ignition and let his window down a bit. ‘Your mother’s going to be devastated — both of us really. We’ll talk about Lena after the meeting; I just need to know how it affects the business with Arnie.’

  ‘We were bitching and I took a call.’ Elliot jiggled his knee as he spoke. ‘Lena’s aunt came to Arnie’s out of the blue the night before. She said Lena was in Wellington and that I had to meet with her.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘No, but I will. I was all stressed and I took the call.’ Elliot saw someone unlocking the Old Brewery and he pointed. ‘We have to go; the Health and Safety people have arrived. Don’t tell Mum; I’ll do it after I’ve met Lena.’

  ‘Maybe I should,’ Dad said in a doubtful way. ‘I know how to handle her.’

  ‘No. I have to. Arnie was right; I should’ve done it ages ago.’

  ‘Why? When is she due?’

  ‘Soon. Really soon.’

  ‘Christ.’ Dad did that thing with his face, tugging and dragging the skin. Elliot couldn’t watch. ‘So when, exactly, did you ahh, see her, do this?’

  ‘New Year’s. The party.’ Elliot could see his father getting his head around the dates.

  Dad groaned as if the memory of his damaged ute clobbered him on top of everything else.

  ‘Sorry Dad.’

  ‘Did you and Arnie get on okay? I mean, generally?’ He seemed to be in a world of his own.

  ‘Yeah. I really like him. He’s a legend.’

  ‘That’s something, I suppose.’ Dad sighed. ‘Your mother—’ he said again. ‘Come on, let’s concentrate on this now,’ and they both opened their doors.

  Jennifer Butler looked up at Elliot and Dad as they walked towards her. ‘Hello there,’ she said in a strong American accent. She threw her hand out in a challenging way and Dad made a small grunt under his breath. Her handshake to Elliot, though, was firm and kind and she held on for a moment longer than he expected. ‘Pleased to meet you. How is Mr Cashwell?’

  ‘Not good. Still unconscious.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Now we’re just waiting on, ahh—here’s Stan Wishnovsky.’

  There were more introductions and Dad thanked Stan for the way he’d looked out for Elliot.

  ‘He’s a good boy, your lad. I only did what Arnie would’ve wanted.’

  ‘And we’re also waiting for my assistant. He’s a trainee but nearly qualified. He’ll be taking the photos and notes.’ Jennifer explained all this to Elliot as if he was the captain of their team.

  They had to put on high-visibility vests and helmets even though it wasn’t that sort of work site. ‘Let’s just comply with the rules so we can get down to the real business,’ Jennifer said as they zipped up. A young man in a suit and tie crossed the road and headed towards them. His umbrella was up even though it had stopped raining. ‘Ahh, here’s Jacques.’ They shook hands again and everyone trooped inside.

  Stan had to go first and he laid out his work tools exactly as he’d left them the day before. Jennifer questioned him on his moves from the first phone call to Arnie, to his arrival just before the ambulance. Stan tried to talk about Arnie’s relationship with Elliot and how close they were, but Jennifer asked him to please stick to the facts of the day.

  Then it was Elliot’s turn. His hands shook under the close scrutiny. He moved the tools to show Jennifer what he’d seen, and Stan lent him a sweater to represent the sodden jacket he’d used to lasso Arnie. Elliot also explained the noise of the rain, the muddle of parking the van, the drill running in the seemingly deserted building and, finally, the cellphone call.

  ‘I see.’ Jennifer made him go over their arrival three times. ‘Where had he stood? Why?’ Stan had to stand in the cupboard and Jacques took photos.

  ‘I don’t think Arnie could hear me over the rain. It was thundering down.’

  ‘Why didn’t you move closer?’

  ‘I didn’t know where he was. He must have found the cupboard when I was gone.’

  ‘Did you understand what Arnie was doing in the cupboard?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Had you and Arnie discussed the job at all?’

  ‘A bit. I knew he was going to install a security camera and that it would mean a new power-point.’

  ‘What did you think when you saw the electric drill running?’

  Elliot hesitated. ‘I thought Arnie was losing the plot.’

  ‘Losing the plot?’ Jacques looked confused.

  ‘Put that,’ Jennifer said. ‘I know what he means. It seems as if there’s been plenty of miscommunication or, at least, a serious lack of communication.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Elliot said. ‘The morning was niggly.’

  ‘How do you spell niggly? I don’t know that word.’ Jacques looked up again.

  ‘Write irritating,’ Jennifer told him. ‘I’m getting the idea.’ She put reading glasses on and referred to her own notes on a clipboard. ‘Workplace accidents are usually a combination of events that start well before the moment the injury occurs.’ She wrote quietly for a moment and then looked at Elliot over her glasses. ‘In effect, you and Mr Cashwell were out of sorts, shall we say, bickering, long before the electrocution. As the employer, Mr Cashwell should have explained the job more thoroughly and guided you through the steps.’ She looked back at her clipboard and turned over a few pages. ‘I see Mr Cashwell is not an affiliated member of our apprenticeship scheme, so he won’t have had the correct training to teach you.’
>
  ‘He’s been really good. I’ve learned heaps. He makes me read stuff at night.’ Elliot knew this was bullshit but he didn’t like how Arnie was now getting the blame. ‘Every job we go to he explains stuff, it was just this one morning that it all tipped—’ Elliot was going to say arse-up but he stopped just in time.

  ‘Thank you, Elliot. We’re not here to find fault with Mr Cashwell, and he would appreciate your loyalty. However, it’s my job as a Health and Safety inspector to report back on the serious events that took place and to make recommendations to prevent this sort of thing happening to someone else.’ Jennifer looked at Jacques. ‘Do you have everything you need?’

  ‘I think so.’ He patted his pockets and everyone watched and waited, thinking he was going to produce something useful, but he just brought out a large handkerchief. Jennifer got back to business.

  ‘We’re finished now so I’ll go and write my report, Elliot. We’ll have a meeting and get back to you within five working days. My report and recommendations go to the police as well.’ She tried to smile kindly but it was too serious a subject. ‘There are two things that probably go without saying. One is that while you are under this investigation you and Mr Cashwell are bound under the Health and Safety in Employment Act to cease all electrical work.’

  ‘Arnie’s in a coma.’

  ‘I know. I have to say it, though. The other thing is that you cannot leave the country. Do you have a passport?’

  ‘Yes,’ Elliot said. He couldn’t help glancing at Dad who had, as Elliot expected, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  ‘Will you hand that in, please? To the police.’

  ‘They’ve already asked me to do that.’

  ‘Do I know anything about you?’ Dad clipped his seatbelt and stared straight ahead.

  ‘Pretty much everything now.’

  ‘Are you sure? I’ve had enough bombshells.’

  ‘A passport isn’t a big deal.’