“Would you like your balance displayed on screen or on a receipt?” I’m not sure why I think each option will give me a different outcome, maybe it’s superstition but it’s probably just the drugs. “Displayed on screen”, waiting for the numbers, or lack of numbers, to come up feels I’m like playing a poker machine. Indian dreaming to be exact; three tepees set off the feature and two double your bet. That machine is gold.
Fuck yeah! I’ve just been stimulated! I could kiss you Mr. Rudd.
Walking back to my 19th avenue apartment I can’t get the smile off my face, just thinking about how ruthless the next few days are going to be. I should probably save this money, or pump it into the economy, but it’s free money; free coke. I stop in at the servo, which doubles as a Maccas, in Palm Beach to get credit and a 40 pack of Longbeach rich; I’ll be back here in a few hours, all the dealers around here hustle their wares from late 80’s model commodores in the car park.
It’s one of those days where you know everything is just going to work out, no hassles, no chasing people around, everything just falls into place. It makes you feel invincible; but it’s probably just the drugs.
“Oi Johnny” it’s 1 pm and my roommate is just getting out of bed, “I’ve just been stimulated; we’re getting munted tonight!”
His red wine eyes tell me he’s hung over and probably doesn’t grasp the gravity of the situation.
“Huh? I don’t care what you and Maddie did last night” he groans while scratching himself.
“No you idiot. I just got my stimulus money from K-Rudd. I’m meeting Warren in half an hour down at the servo, I’m getting an 8-ball.”
Now he gets what I’m talking about. “Nice,” he slightly comes back to life, “just let me get my shit together and I’ll cruise down with you, reckon you could bum us twenty bucks?”
“Yeah just hurry up, you know he hates waiting.”
I suck down two smokes and he’s still in the shower. God he’s hopeless.
“Oi” I shout as I’m beating on the bathroom door, “stop whacking off or we’ll miss him!”
Johnny pulls himself out of the shower, bums a smoke off me and we start heading down the highway. We’re drafting plans of attack as we walk up towards the servo.
“So we’re do you want to go tonight?” he asks.
I know he wants to go to Sin City but I hate that place. It’s so Gold Coast, the chicks all think they’re Paris-bloody-Hilton, they only play Soulja Boy and Timbland songs and stubbies are eight bucks; this is all on top of a $20 entry fee.
“I’m thinking of going to Waxy’s, they’ve got a band playing tonight, so much better than that Top 40 crap they play at all the other clubs.”
We walk up to Warren’s ’86 green commodore and jump in the back seat, he’s half way through a cigarette; Winfield Red’s, I don’t know how he smokes those, they’re way too harsh.
“So you boys heading out tonight or what?” asks Warren, I know it’s only small talk but it pays to be courteous to your dealer.
“Fuck oath mate,” Warren’s always hanging around Surfers, hustling gear to the Elsewhere crowd; they eat pills like Panadol, “I just got stimulated so we’re having a bender”.
“Yeah I was wondering where you got the cash for an 8 ball, thought you did someone over.”
What a smart arse.
Back at the apartment me and Johnny have a few bumps, then I stash the gear in my pillow. We’ve invited just about everyone we know to the place for what we’ve called the “Stimulation Party”.
“I have to go down to Centrelink so you wait for everyone to rock up, should be about an hour or so.. And don’t touch the gear till I get back”, he’s my best mate but I don’t trust him with drugs; he’s a fiend.
“Don’t worry mate, I’ve got beers to keep me company; and your missus will be here soon.”
“Don’t push it”.
Down at Centrelink it’s the same as every other time; line up for half an hour, you see the same people in the line every time. You fill out the same form you’ve filled out god knows how many times before then they send you out, it’s not a bad gig for $450 a fortnight.
By the time I get back there are at least 30 people at the apartment, but I can’t find Maddie. I make my way though the people, bumping knuckles and saying, “Hey mate what’s doing” to just about everyone but I still can’t see Maddie.
“Hey Johnny, have you seen Maddie?” I don’t know why I’m so worried, something just feels wrong. I’ve lost that invincible feeling I had earlier today, it’s probably just the drugs.
“Yeah she was just here, she should be around somewhere. Keen for another bump mate?” I’m going to hear this so many times tonight.
“Yeah, come on mate, I’ll find her afterwards.”
“WHERE’S THE FUCKING GEAR JOHNNY?” God damn it! The coke isn’t here.
“What are you on about dude? I haven’t touched it since you left, I swear.”
I knew I couldn’t trust this son of a bitch.
“Don’t fuck around Johnny, where’s the gear?”
“Dude, calm down, I haven’t been in your room since you left.” Johnny’s pretty scared now, he can see how pissed off I am. I believe him for some reason, usually when he lies he starts blinking uncontrollably. It’s pretty funny.
I march out to the living room; I swear I could murder someone. That’s $800 worth of gear and someone I know has taken it from my room. These people are my mates and someone has dogged me. This is bullshit.
I smash the stereo on the ground. Bad Religion.
“Everyone shut up” I command “Who’s got my gear”
Every single person goes silent. They can probably see the veins throbbing in the side of my head and know anything they can say can put me over the edge.
My older brother, Luke, comes up to me, “Just calm down for a second mate and think about it. If anyone’s stolen gear off you they’re not going to stick around your house. We’ll figure out whose left, we know everyone here. We’ll get it back.”
He’s always been able to keep me out of trouble.
We figure out pretty quickly that there are only 2 people who have left; Warren and Maddie. Johnny has always been a bit suss on Maddie; when we went to school she was always whoring around, there’s one in every school. But that was years ago, I thought she’d changed, now she’s off with Warren; he stole my drugs and my girlfriend, goddamn drug dealers.
“I’ll kill them. I swear to God when I find them I’ll kill them.” I can see everyone get uncomfortable, but this is my house. Fuck them. “Who knows where they went?”
Johnny tells me Warren went down to beach for a swim; apparently he was starting to get pretty messy and wanted to straighten up a bit. I send Warren a text message, in my blind rage
I don’t even stop to think that I’m tipping him off, ‘ur dead m8’.
By the time my feet hit the sand I’m absolutely seething. You invite someone into your house then they go and steal your shit, who does that? I’ll break his knee caps, mafia style.
I run laps of the beach but can’t find him anywhere. I see something in the dunes; looks like someone lying down. He’s probably racking up with her right now. “I’ve got you now you bastard” I whisper to myself; I hope I can control myself enough to not kill him, as much as I’d like to.
I sprint up to the dunes, yelling every curse I’ve ever heard, as well as a few words that just came out of my mouth; I don’t think “cick shucker” means anything. I descend on the figure with my arms and legs flailing, just as I’m about to start re-arranging his face I notice the figure has long blonde hair, “Maddie!”
She’s lying there unconscious; vomit caked around her lips and running down her green and yellow floral dress. Her face a light shade of blue and her eyes open as far as they can go; like she’s been trying to breathe out of any orifice she could.
God damn you Kevin Rudd.
