A Wrong Turn at the Office of Unmade Lists

by Jane Rawson

  At the top of Dolores Park he found the place he’d stepped in and stepped back out. He thought about visiting another imaginum, but he was tired – the dorm bed he’d slept in had been covered in plastic under the sheet, and the crackling had kept him awake half the night. Instead, he poked his head around the dividers to see what ponytail guy was up to. He was tapping a pen on a clipboard – did these guys go home ever, Ray wondered, or were they here all the time, day and night? Well, he wasn’t going to sit around and find out. He walked out onto the carpet and back into Craigieburn.

  FISHED OUT OF THE RIVER WITH A POINTY STICK

  Lanh never turned up. When Caddy woke up, about sixteen hours after she’d gone to sleep, everything seemed just as she’d left it – the computers all still packed away, Shantaram still folded open on the armchair, no Lanh. She was slick with sweat, the sheets soaked through, and when she hauled herself out of bed and stripped the sheets off, she could feel the mattress was damp as well. Sixteen hours. She hoped it was sweat and not pee. Being ill was so gross.

  She propped the mattress up in front of one of the big windows and pulled the thick curtain back. The window latch was so rusted in she had to use a brick to knock it open. Once she had she slid the window up so a breeze could blow on the mattress. She was looking for a bag (the Green Bag?) that she could pack the sheets into to take down to the river for a wash when she remembered there was no river. Or rather, there was way too much river.

  Would it be down by now? Caddy tried to add up in her head. The storm had happened while she was delirious with fever, and she had no way of knowing exactly which day or days it had been. But maybe it was Sunday and Monday. It was Wednesday now, she was pretty sure, in the morning. There had been no rain since she woke up early yesterday morning. Perhaps the river would be low enough by now for her to do some washing. Maybe to investigate if there was anything left of her camp. Maybe say hi to Sergeant Fisk (though maybe not while she was holding a bundle of potentially pee-soaked sheets).

  The Green Bag was on top of the safe. She shoved the sheets in and looked around for something she could write a note on. Where could Lanh have gotten to? Maybe he’d met a nice girl somewhere. Caddy kind of hoped so. Really, she was way too old and miserable for a nice boy like Lanh, with his successful business and his cute Demons cap and his cheerful willingness to share contraband liquor. There were some old flyers for the Doutta Galla Pub in among the timber and scrap metal, so she pulled one out and wrote a quick message.

  Hi Lanh, sorry if you’re sleepy, I’ve taken your sheets down the river for a wash cause I slept on them last night. I was sweaty, sorry, I’m a bit sick. My house is gone. It’s a long story. Anyway, will be back soon to tidy up. Caddy.

  Most of the barricades had been cleared from the end of Racecourse Road, and what was left of the soldiers and police were milling around the racecourse itself, leaving the route down to the river open. The river had dropped significantly, but was choked with branches, rubbish and what looked like a bloated kangaroo. A soldier was standing at the ramp up to the footbridge.

  ‘Is it safe to cross?’ she asked him, feeling like she was in a Monty Python movie or the Billy Goats Gruff.

  ‘No problems, miss, just watch your feet, it’s slippery up there.’

  It was slippery up there and on the other side, where most of the Paddock had turned to greasy mud. The water itself was filthy brown and stinky. She gave up on the idea of washing sheets pretty much straight away. There was nothing left of anything that had been the Newell settlement, so she didn’t even start looking around for her stuff.

  As she was walking back across the footbridge she saw Mukhtar coming down the hill. She called out to him. ‘Hey!’

  ‘Hey Caddy,’ he replied, once he was within talking range. ‘How are you? We were worried. We had not seen you for many days.’

  ‘I got sick,’ she said. ‘I’ve been staying at a friend’s place.’ For the first time she realized that if she hadn’t been at the hotel, she could well be cuddling up to that bloated kangaroo right now, or being fished out of the river with a pointy stick by Sergeant Fisk. She felt a little weak in the knees, so she sat down. She kind of wanted to lie down, and wanting to lie down made her think how much she’d love to sleep some more, which made her wonder if maybe everything wouldn’t be better if she had just been washed away in the night. ‘I was worried about you too. I saw them pulling a body from the river. I couldn’t see who it was.’

  ‘We are all fine. We went to Ramallah’s sister’s when the rain got strong. We were worried what would happen to the river.’

  ‘And the Somalis?’

  ‘Everyone is alright, we made everyone go. Except …’

  ‘Except what?’ Caddy was glad she was already sitting down.

  ‘The boy who was here with you the other night, the Asian boy?’

  ‘Lanh?’ She steadied herself, propping her arms out behind her. ‘What?’

  ‘He came down to see you on Saturday night. You weren’t here, but he said he would wait, and I think he went to sleep in your humpy. When we decided everyone should go we looked for him there, but there was no sign. He probably went home. There is probably no reason to worry.’

  ‘I don’t think he went home, I’ve been up there. But you’re right. He wasn’t there when the flood came through, right?’

  ‘I do not know. He was not there when we left.’

  ‘Well, no reason he would have come back. I’m sure he’s fine.’ Caddy wasn’t sure he was fine. She needed to get these sheets cleaned and she needed to find Ray. ‘Where will you go, Mukhtar?’

  ‘We will stay with Ramallah’s sister for a while. We look around. We will find something. Much of our things we saved. It will be all right. You?’

  ‘I don’t really know. I’m going to find Ray. He’ll have an idea.’

  ‘Ray is good with ideas. Maybe not so good on other things.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe not. Still …’ Caddy shrugged a ‘who else is there?’ and Mukhtar nodded as though he knew what the shrug meant. ‘Well, I’ve got to get these cleaned somewhere,’ Caddy pointed at the bag of sheets. ‘I’ll see you round, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  But she wouldn’t, and they both knew it.

  Caddy lugged her burden back up the hill without seeing Sergeant Fisk. She wondered if he had a first name – she couldn’t really go around thinking about a guy called ‘Sergeant Fisk’: it sounded like a dumb newspaper comic. She stuck her head into Sunny, but everything was as she’d left it. She tried not to feel nervous and ill. Instead she kept walking up Racecourse Road until she got to the laundrette. There was a sign in the window: ‘Wash $17 a load. FIXED PRICE, NO NEGOTIATIONS.’ Goddamn it. Seventeen dollars? She took the sheets back to Sunny, dropped them off and went over to the market, where she picked up a bucket, well-used, for two dollars.

  Now she just needed to find some running water. She went back to the laundrette, where a young woman was sitting on a vinyl chair by the door, watching people walk by.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Caddy asked.

  ‘Do you want your bucket filled?’ the woman asked in return.

  ‘Yes please.’

  The woman looked more closely at the bucket. ‘Five dollars. Not negotiable. What are you using it for?’

  ‘To do some washing.’

  ‘You want grey water? For grey water, two dollars. If you want clean, five dollars.’

  ‘Grey is fine, thank you.’

  ‘You want soap?’

  Ah crap. Her soap had washed away in the flood. ‘Yes please.’

  ‘That is two dollars.’

  ‘OK, don’t worry about it. I’ll just take the water.’ Caddy was pretty sure she could pick soap up cheaper at the markets.

  In the end, the bucket of water she got from the laundrette was still pretty soapy, so she just used that. She hung the sheets up in front of the window – the mattress was already dry – and sat down in Lanh’s armchair to read his boo
k. She made sure she didn’t lose his place. He was coming back, right? Right.

  She was exhausted from lugging sheets and water backwards and forwards and up and down. She read about two pages and then wanted to go to sleep.

  ‘OK Caroline, come on.’ She couldn’t go to sleep. She couldn’t even sit around reading, really. She needed to find somewhere to stay. She needed to find out what had happened to Lanh. Ray probably had at least some of the answers. If she had the code for the safe she could check her damn email, but she didn’t. She needed a phone renter. With a big sigh she hauled herself out of the chair, pulled on her hat and went outside again. She squinted against the glare off the footpath and dodged between traffic to get to a guy sitting on the other side of the road, a painting of a phone on builder’s ply perched on the path in front of him.

  She didn’t have the energy to argue over price. ‘I just want to make a call, mate,’ she said, and he passed her the phone. She dialed Ray’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. ‘Shit.’ She listened to the message. ‘Ray, it’s Caddy. I need to see you as soon as possible. I’m at Lanh’s place. He’s disappeared and my camp got washed away in a flood. I need your help. Look, I’ll be at Lanh’s. No, hang on, I’m going to go down to Peira’s and see if anyone has seen Lanh, OK? Alright, so I’ll be at one of those. Maybe I’ll try call you again later. This sucks, Ray, why don’t you answer?’ She hung up and burst into tears.

  ‘Here,’ she sobbed as she handed the phone back, ‘how much?’

  ‘Two dollars.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Caddy sat on the footpath and bawled, her head on her knees which she hugged to her chest.

  ‘Far out lady! OK, 50 cents!’

  She’d told Ray she was going to Peira’s. She just wanted to go back to Lanh’s and sleep. What should she do? It was so fucking hot and she was so fucking tired! Just half an hour. She’d sleep for just half an hour, and then she’d get a moto down to Peira’s. She crossed back over the road, tears pouring down her face, went into Sunny and curled up on the armchair, but she couldn’t sleep. Where was Lanh?.

  She screwed up her old note and wrote a new one.

  Lanh, where are you? I’ve gone down to Peira’s to see if anyone knows where you are. Come find me or leave me a note here or something. Caddy

  She grabbed her bag of bits and pieces from The Grand – might as well try to sell them while she was down at Peira’s – and threw in a couple of bottles of water to drink as well.

  The moto taxi dropped her off right out the front of Peira’s. She was damned if she was walking anymore today. She pulled up her usual chair, ordered a vodka and tonic – ‘Yes, Peira, I know it’s before noon, put in extra tonic if it makes you feel better’ – got the fan turned on, and sat and stared.

  After her second drink she started to feel a lot, lot, lot better. Calmer. That is, nothing was solved and probably never would be, but she didn’t care so much. It felt like the good old days. She asked one of the kids out front if Jason was around.

  ‘He’s down by the water, Cad. Think he heard about some deal.’

  ‘If you see him, can you tell him I’ve got some things he might be able to sell?’

  ‘I could try move em for you if you want.’

  ‘Thanks, no; it’s a pretty big stash, more Jason’s speed. Hey, but maybe you can help me. Do you know anyone who’s selling sunnies?’

  ‘I’ll go ask around. Will you be here for a bit?’

  ‘At least another hour I reckon.’

  ‘No worries, I’ll be back before then.’

  ‘Oh hey,’ Caddy said, ‘do you know that girl Zotswell?’

  ‘Xotchel?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s her. If you see her could you ask her to drop by too?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s probably wherever Jason is.’ The kid giggled.

  Caddy gave him a smile. ‘Here,’ she said, and passed him one of the chocolates from her bag. ‘It’s for you, not to sell, OK?’

  God, she was turning into some kind of hillsider, handing out sweeties to the poor little street kids. He was just a kid, though. Who knew where he even slept.

  ‘Thanks Cad!’ and he ran off. Probably to sell the chocolate, Caddy thought. And fair enough; he probably needed water or a plate of noodles more than he needed a chocolate. Talking of places to sleep, she didn’t have one. Caddy ordered a third vodka and tonic and a bowl of noodles and asked Peira if she’d seen Ray around.

  ‘Haven’t seen that man in about a week,’ Peira replied. ‘You want to use my phone to give him a call? No charge.’ She was in an unusually good mood. Maybe it was because Caddy was spending up big. Peira liked it when Caddy ate, too. That woman worried too much.

  ‘Thanks, that’d be ace.’

  Ray answered. ‘Hey Peira.’

  ‘It’s Caddy.’

  ‘Cad! How you doing? I was about to try and find you, was heading down to Newell any moment now.’

  ‘Sure you were, Ray. I’m at Peira’s anyway. Newell’s all gone.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There were floods. Come on, Ray, you know everything.’

  ‘I kinda been away.’

  ‘Away? Where?’

  ‘That’s what I wanted to come find you about. I think I met someone you know.’

  ‘Lanh?’ Caddy was about to be very relieved.

  ‘No, not Lanh. Someone else.’

  ‘Oh. Have you seen Lanh around?’

  ‘I’ve been away, Cad, haven’t seen anyone much. You don’t sound that excited about this friend of yours I met.’

  ‘No! I am! It’s just, I need to find Lanh.’

  ‘Hey, so Cad, how was Friday?’

  ‘I got dengue. Not from Farren, obviously. But well …’ Peira was making a ‘wind it up’ signal. ‘Ray, I gotta go, this is Peira’s phone. Can you come down and meet me?’

  ‘Can you come up near Library instead?’

  ‘Sure, in a bit, maybe an hour?’

  ‘Sounds good. Can you come to that bar where you dropped off the Breezers?’

  ‘Cruisers. Sure. The bulldog bar. See you in an hour.’

  ‘K. See you baby.’

  ‘Whatever, Ray,’ but she made a kissing noise. ‘Later.’

  She handed the phone back, ‘thanks Peira. Sorry about that. Do you want some money?’

  ‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’

  Caddy got back to staring at the street, but a minute or two later Xotchel showed up.

  ‘Hello miss, I heard you wanted to see me?’

  ‘I sure do. Can I get another manicure? You did such a great job last time.’ Caddy was turning into a regular Mother Teresa, handing out charity and compliments all over the joint.

  ‘Yes miss.’

  ‘Still fifty cents?’

  ‘Yes miss.’

  ‘You can call me Caddy if you like. Miss is pretty weird; I’m like three hundred years old.’

  The girl looked disbelieving.

  ‘No, not really three hundred years old. I’m thirty three. Like that Vietnamese beer, yeah?’

  The girl looked uncomprehending.

  ‘Never mind. Anyway, can I have blue this time? I don’t have anyone to impress.’

  ‘Yes miss.’

  ‘Hey Peira?’ Caddy called to the back of the bar.

  ‘What is it? You want another vodka? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?’

  ‘That attitude is bad for business. No, I want to know if you want a manicure. My shout.’

  Peira came out into the light. ‘You think I have time to sit around getting a manicure?’

  ‘If I don’t order anything else, you do.’

  ‘It’ll just get ruined as soon as it’s done.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s the fun of getting it that matters.’

  Peira sighed. ‘All right. But I just have to finish sweeping first.’

  ‘No worries. I’ll be fifteen minutes or so anyway, right?’

  The girl nodded, sat down and began unpacking
onto the table. Caddy took a sip of her drink. ‘Do you want a lemonade or something? It’s on me.’

  ‘Thank you miss, yes please.’

  Caddy raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Peira, when you come back could you bring a lemonade for Xotchel too?’ There was a grunt from the back of the bar.

  This was more like it, Caddy thought. Why was she so worried about Lanh? She barely knew the guy. He was sweet, sure, but that didn’t make him all that special. Plenty of sweet kids were dying every day, from malaria and starvation and dengue and heat stroke and from thirst and exhaustion and drug overdoses. Was Lanh into Yaba or something? She didn’t know. So maybe he was dead. Most of the people she cared about were dead. Mum, Dad, Harry. All the cats she had cared about were dead. So what was Lanh? Just one more dead guy, right? Anyway, she knew the way it went. They wouldn’t find a body and if they did no one would ever tell her – she wasn’t a relative or anything. So best to just stop thinking about it.

  What about Sunny, though? What would happen with that? Well, if they did find his body and his family and tell them, they’d probably take care of it. That was a lot of ‘ifs’. The internet café was probably just going to sit there till someone looted it. Maybe she should take it over. But she didn’t know the safe combination.

  Thank god that little kid Lucius came back right about then. ‘Caddy, I got you some sunglasses!’ He waved them at her. She gestured for him to come closer. Yep, they were definitely her sunglasses.

  ‘Where did you get those?’

  ‘I got them from a girl called Gilly, who said she got them from some rich lady who swapped them for Yaba.’

  ‘Nice. What do you want for them?’

  ‘Four dollars.’

  ‘What did you pay?’

  ‘Three dollars fifty.’

  ‘You did not.’

  Lucius shrugged. ‘You want em or not?’

  ‘Yeah. Here you go.’ She handed over four dollars. ‘You know these used to be my sunnies? Some bastard must have stolen them off the table here or something.’

  ‘Weren’t me, Caddy.’

  ‘Maybe not.’

  ‘I saw Jason, too. He said he’ll come up soon. He was just down the water with that guy from up Racecourse. You know him? He does beer shipments and stuff?’