by M. J. Kelly
Chook nodded.
A group of guys approached the bar and Jules headed over to serve them. Dig turned to Chook. “Hey,” he whispered. “About what I said.”
“Ha, don’t worry about it. Just wanted to see you squirm.”
Dig took another sip on his beer. “Sounds like you guys have been in Goa a while?”
Chook shrugged. “Six months for me. She's been here about a year.”
“You plan to stay a while then?”
“Not really. I’m only here because my sister’s here.” He took a mouthful. “I’m trying to get her to head home with me.”
“She won’t go?”
He shook his head. “She’s caught up in this whole...scene...you know, getting into too many drugs and hanging with some dodgy people.”
“So how’d you guys get jobs here then?”
Chook took another mouthful. “My sis is screwing the arsehole that runs this place.”
A shout came from the opposite end of the room. One of the customers leaned over the bar and reached for Jules. He was tall and solid, with short cropped hair on a boxy head. His eyes were heavily lidded. He did indeed look like a demented version of Frankenstein.
“Get away!” Jules slapped at his hand.
Chook pushed to his feet with his eyes narrowed, and Frankenstein’s two friends dragged him away to the dancefloor.
Jules strode across the bar to Chook; her face was red. “Can you watch the bar for a bit? I’m gettin’ security.”
“Not sure I have the cleavage for it. But I’ll give it a shot.”
She gave a pinched expression, picked up the damp towel from the bench, and threw it at him. He tried to duck away, but it slapped into the side of his head and fell back to the bar. She crossed the room toward a staircase in the corner. Dig watched her go.
“Right! Time to work.” Chook moved behind the bar, before putting on a deep stilted voice and furrowing his brow. “Sorry sir but I can’t serve you. You’ve obviously had way too much to drink. Don’t want you falling asleep on the toilet now.”
“Ha ha.” Dig lifted the towel from the bar and feigned to throw it. Chook ducked and smiled, showing a set of crooked teeth. He grabbed his beer and swallowed a mouthful.
“So what brings you over here anyway?” Chook said.
Dig picked at the label of his beer. “Work.”
“Work? You in tourism?”
“I work in a brewery actually.”
“Ha! Come to learn from the masters huh? I bet you don’t get beers like this back in Australia.” He tapped the top of his bottle.
Dig shrugged. “One of our beers tastes pretty much the same. We use the same hops actually.”
Chook frowned. “I’m not talking about the taste dude.”
Dig looked up. “Huh?”
Chook gestured to the dance floor. “Why’d you think this place is so packed every night? And so full of spaced-out twats?”
Dig straightened. “What do you mean?”
Chook leaned forward and pointed to Dig’s beer. “The green label’s the local stuff. They only sell it in this bar. They call it unrefined.”
Dig’s stomach clenched. He lifted the beer and studied the label. “Unrefined?”
Chook glanced over his shoulder to the stairwell. “Look, don’t tell anyone I said this, but I think they have, like, genetically modified the hops somehow. You know, with science. Infused them with, like, opium poppies to make some kind of hybrid, alien plant.” He picked up his bottle and presented it like he was doing a magic trick. “So when they brew it—ta daa!”
“Opium?” Dig’s breath caught in his chest and his mind raced.
He thought back to the crop fields in Hampi—the endless rows of hops with the strange orange tinge, and Girish’s doctorate in Botany sitting proudly framed on his wall. Then the containers of the ‘secret’ hops that were delivered to the Buckley Brewery every month, and the block of material that Shiv had regularly arranged to pick up from his father.
Had his father been extracting the opium out of the hops?
The final words from his father came back to him. The words choked out as he lay stricken on the bush track, his throat closing up, drowning him of oxygen:
The brewery is tainted...you should shut it down…no more packages.
Dig’s heart pounded as he stared at the beer in his hand. A tinkling crash echoed behind him, and he turned to see Frankenstein in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying left and right as he yanked a curtain of beads down from the ceiling.
“Man,” Chook said. “That guy’s lost the plot. Shiv needs to get down here now.”
Dig turned quickly. “Did you say Shiv?”
Chook gave a blank look. “Yeah, he’s Jules’ boyfriend. You know him? He’s a right prick huh?” He joined his thumb and forefinger in a circle and waggled it at his forehead—the universal symbol of a dickhead. “But even so, he’ll make that guy wish he never set foot in here.” He turned to the staircase. “All good. Here they come now.”
Across the room, Jules appeared in the stairway with Shiv and the thugs behind her. Dig’s chest tightened. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He stood up. His stool thumped to the floor behind him.
Chook frowned. “Hey, chill—”
“Gotta go.” Dig turned for the exit. His hand brushed against his beer bottle, and it dropped to the floor and shattered, covering his toes in beer and glass. Dig stared at his feet for a long moment—it was somehow hard to comprehend, like his thought process was battling through a numbing cloud of fog. His balance wavered, and he reached for the bar to steady himself.
There it is, Dig thought. The opium’s kicking in. He swallowed, took a deep breath, then glanced across the room. Shiv stared at him from the base of the staircase, eyes wide. Dig began to stumble across the dancefloor toward the exit.
“Hey Dig!” Chook shouted from somewhere behind him, somewhere far away. “Wait a sec!”
But Dig pushed on. The pulsing lights of the dancefloor danced in his vision, throwing shadows, disorientating him. The bass pounded in his temples. He blinked, trying to focus on the fuzzy shapes before his eyes, but they swayed left and right like cartoon ghosts. Something slammed into his chest, and he fell to his rear on the dirt floor.
A figure dropped to the ground beside him, and he turned to see Frankenstein lying on his side, scowling. “You idiot,” the guy slurred.
“Sorry.” Dig pulled himself to his feet. His legs were shaky, his head full of cotton wool. He pushed onward through the crowd, bumping against shoulders until he recognised the bright rectangle of the exit. He moved toward the light, and as he reached the door, a figure appeared before him.
“Leaving so soon?” Shiv said. His eyes were steely.
Dig turned back inside, but the thugs stood behind him, blocking his path. He faced Shiv again and steadied himself on the door frame.
“I’ve decided to take your advice and head home,” Dig said. “All hush hush and all that. Never see each other again. Just like you said back in Oz.”
Shiv clenched his teeth and placed an arm against the frame, blocking it. “It’s a bit late for that.”
Dig glanced around at the three men. “No...it’s okay, I better hit the road I think. Long flight back.” He pushed forward and tried to duck under Shiv’s arm.
Shiv shifted his body to block his path. “You need to come upstairs.”
Dig tried to smile, and pushed forward again. “Maybe next time.”
A hand came down tightly on Dig’s shoulder, turning him. Another pressed into the small of his back, pushing him back toward the bar.
“Okay,” Dig said. “Maybe I’ll just say hello, seeing as I’m here.”
He was directed through the dancefloor toward the stairs in the back corner of the room. As they passed the bar, Chook frowned.
“No Shiv! That’s not him! That blockhead down there’s the problem.” He pointed at Frankenstein, who hadn’t yet managed to stand up.
> “Chook,” Dig shouted as he was pushed across the room. “Don’t worry about it.”
Chook stepped forward and grabbed Shiv’s arm. “Shiv, you have the wrong guy.”
Shiv scowled. “Get your hands off me.”
“Just listen for once you dickhead. This guy isn’t the problem. He was sitting with me quietly at the bar.”
“Chook, stop it!” Jules said from behind him.
Shiv grabbed a handful of Chook’s shirt and shoved him to the ground. Chook fell back to his elbows with his chest rising and falling and his cheeks blushed pink. Shiv nodded to his companions, and they pushed Dig onward toward the stairs.
A rush of footsteps skipped across the floor behind them and Chook punched Shiv in the jaw. Shiv fell to one knee with a hand at his face and his lip smeared with blood. Chook stood over him, fists at his side, eyes wide.
The thick-jawed thug took two quick steps and backhanded Chook across the face with a slap, then swung a punch into the pit of his stomach. Chook buckled over in a heap.
Jules squealed and rushed to Chook’s side. “What the hell are you doing?” she screamed at the thug.
Shiv nodded to the stairs, and the thug grabbed Chook by the collar, dragging him across the floor.
“No!” Jules pulled at the thug’s elbow, but he hardly noticed her.
Dig took a final glance toward the dancefloor, but nobody in the crowd seemed to have noticed what was happening—they were staring vacantly at the DJ.
The hand in Dig’s back pushed him upward, and he watched his feet as he stumbled up the timber steps. Over time, foot falls had worn depressions in the centre of the risers. He concentrated on placing each foot in the centre of the step, one at a time, trying not to stumble as he battled the murky fog that had descended over his mind.
When they reached the upper level, the stairs opened out to a dusty room with a leather couch wedged against one wall, and an empty bar on the other. An elevator shaft lay open in the corner, blocked off with tape, and double doors led to a balcony that overlooked the beer garden below. The thump of bass reverberated up from the dancefloor.
The thugs pushed Dig and Chook down to the couches. Jules took a seat beside her brother and sat stiffly with her arms crossed. “Shiv, this is bullshit.”
“Leave it.”
“No! Let Chook go back down.”
“Keep your mouth shut!” Shiv shouted, and Jules cringed, then opened her mouth to speak before closing it again.
Dig perched on the front edge of the seat. He was still struggling to process his thoughts, but willed his concentration through it. “Is Max here?” he said. “I want to speak to him.”
Shiv put a hand on his hip, then smirked at the bald-headed thug. “Oh, you want to speak to him do you?”
Dig blinked around the room. “Yes.”
Shiv snorted and the thugs laughed. “No, you can’t speak to him.”
“Look. Just give me five minutes—”
“Dig!” Chook interrupted. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but Max isn’t a dude.”
Dig looked blankly at Chook. “Well what is...he?”
“Her real name’s Maxine. But everyone calls her Max.”
Shiv laughed, then walked to a doorway near the staircase and knocked lightly against the frame. “We’ve got a visitor.”
Chook rubbed at his neck and gave Jules a pained look. They shuffled closer to each other on the couch, their lips thin.
A patter of tiny footsteps approached from the doorway, and an overweight bulldog waddled through the door with its tongue hanging sideways. It trotted over to a worn basket of blankets near the balcony and plopped itself down.
Behind it, a short, stocky woman walked into the room, wearing a draping brown sari and her hair tied tightly at the back of her head. She held a cigarette in her hand, and the sickening smell of cloves filled the air. She scowled at the three people sitting on the couch. “So,” she said in a gravelly voice through brown stained teeth. “You just couldn’t keep away.” She lifted the cigarette and took a drag.
Dig’s mind churned. He thought back to the voice he had spoken to on the phone in Australia. He had assumed it was male from the deep tone. But it seemed he was wrong.
And she looked somehow familiar. His brow furrowed. It was hard to keep a grip on his thoughts.
Shiv stepped toward Maxine. “Would you like a drink?”
She nodded, and the thick-jawed thug opened a fridge behind the bar.
Dig stood up. “Look—”
“Sit,” she said.
Dig paused, then sat back down on the edge of the couch. “Look,” he repeated. “We aren’t meeting in the best circumstances here, but I think we need to talk.”
“Yes,” Maxine gave a cold smile. “I agree with you. Please go ahead.”
Dig cleared his throat before speaking. “The thing is,” he said in a shaky voice. “I originally came to India to try to talk to you guys about our old hop supply deal back in Australia. But now I’m here, I’ve changed my mind.” He glanced over to Shiv. “Shiv and I talked back home about closing things down. And I actually think that’s a good idea now. No more Banyan hops. No more Buckley’s Chance. Call it quits.”
Maxine stood stiffly with a downturned mouth. Smoke drifted out of her nose and billowed in the air.
Dig swallowed. “So, I think the best thing we can do is just forget I came here at all, and I’ll keep quiet, go home, and never talk to you guys again. No harm done.” He held up his hands and tried to smile.
Maxine watched him with a deadpan expression, before emitting a humph. She walked over to dog’s basket, squatted down, and ruffled the skin behind the animal’s neck. “Did you hear that Digit? The stickybeak’s decided he’s going to let himself leave.” The dog’s ears pricked up. “That’s funny isn’t it!” she said, and turned to Dig. “So you decide to travel over here, snoop about our factories and businesses—then announce you’re going home again, taking all our company secrets with you?”
Dig pursed his lips. “That’s not why I came here. I came here to talk to you.” He glanced from Maxine to Shiv. “You have to understand, Dad’s death left us completely in the dark about the future of our brewery. Without your hops, we’re ruined.” He swallowed. “But I realise that’s how it has to be now. Let’s just forget everything, and we’ll never even think about you guys again.”
“Forget everything?” Maxine’s voice raised an octave. “Yeah sure, I’ll just forget the guy that sneaks into my private property, then enters my house and tries to break up my family?”
Dig frowned, then recognition dawned. That was why Maxine had seemed familiar—she was the lady he had seen on the wall of Raj’s house near the brewery. She was the boy’s mother.
“No...” He shook his head. “You’ve got that wrong. If that’s true...then I didn’t even know it was your house. I was invited into it.”
She gave another humph, and squatted back down to pat the dog. She spoke slowly. “You and your family…have always been...problems. And I don’t like problems.” The dog turned and offered the underside of his neck, and she duly scratched it. “Shiv told me how much of a problem your brother was. He also told me that he screamed like a baby when he sliced him up.” She leaned closer to the animal. “Do you remember that finger Digit? It wasn’t very tasty was it? It was a bit rotten, travelling all that way from Australia. But you ate it all the same.” She smirked. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you a fresh one...just before we take the stickybeak on a nice fishing trip.” She stroked the dog’s forehead. “Do you think he’ll scream too? I think he will. He’s no more than a weak child, living under the faded shadow of a weak father.”
Dig’s heart raced, and a flush crept up his neck to pound in his ears. His hands balled into fists. He clenched his teeth and forced a deep breath.
He glanced toward the stairs, but they were blocked by the thugs. Shiv stood in the doorway to the balcony. Would anyone hear him if he shouted? H
e doubted it. The thumping bass from the dancefloor still resonated around them.
“Look,” Dig said. “Whatever deal you had with my father, I can replicate it. I know the hops are bioengineered with the opium poppies. I realise my father was extracting the opium during the brewing process and giving it to you in Australia. I can figure out how to do that for you. You have my word. No problems.”
Maxine took another drag on her cigarette and gave a pinched expression. The thick-jawed thug handed her a bottle of beer. She took a large mouthful. “I can’t trust my business to a couple of insolent kids.” She cocked her head. “But, I’d love to hear how you came to your insightful conclusion about how we engineer our crops.”
Chook shifted in his seat beside Dig.
“I...just guessed it.”
“You just guessed?” Maxine sneered. “Or did somebody tell you while you were sitting at the bar? It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.” Chook dropped his gaze to the floor.
Maxine turned to Shiv. “What happened to your mouth?”
There was a pause, before Chook spoke up. “I punched him,” he said. “But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It looks like there’s stuff going on here I didn’t know about.”
“So what are we going to do about that?”
“Look,” Shiv said as he glanced at Jules. “He was wrong. But he didn’t understand the history.”
“No! Tell me again. What are we going to do?”
Shiv swallowed. “Punish him.”
“Good.” Maxine’s eyes lit up. “This’ll be a reminder of what happens when you bring outsiders into the business. Especially the ones related to dirty western sluts. You get...problems.”
“Please,” Chook said. “I won’t do it again.”
“No you won’t. Because you’ll remember this moment every time you pick your nose.”
Chook’s eyebrows knitted together, and he exchanged a look with his sister. Jules sat up straight in her chair. “Max, you don’t need to do that.”
“I suggest you keep your mouth shut tramp, as you’re the one who brought him here.”
