Chapter 7

Deborah

I open my eyes, and immediately regret it. The sun pours into the window onto the bed and someone's opened that window, allowing a hot breeze to waft into the room. My head's pounding and something's died in my mouth, by the smell on my breath, more than a week ago. This is obscene! The bedside clock says its nine o'clock and the last time I looked it was five. What the hell woke me?

Carolyn's in the middle between Our Man and me, as her want is to sleep on her back. One of her hands is resting between my wide open legs, a finger inside, decidedly scrumptious, the other clutching at Graham's morning erection. She's snoring resonantly as usual, like she says she doesn't do. Tobi's lying over Graham, who's on his side facing us, also normal, an arm and a leg dangling off this side. His penis looks like a second leg for her below her, and is of much of similar proportions. Perspiration is running off both of them where they're in contact, the sheet underneath them is dark with it. I'll betcha he woke up earlier in just this state and wouldn't change where she was as he's rather fond of The Runt.

What the hell woke me?

We'd a small get together last night, a Christmas Eve eve party we called it. Everyone except for Mitch have family Christmas do's the next day, on Xmas eve itself, so he's staying the three days with us. Everyone was here last night and we hit the piss for the first time in months. We allowed Tobi to stay up to midnight, but she was asleep in a corner of the lounge, snoring her blessed little heart out, by ten. She must've moved in here sometime this morning, and there's no waking Graham outside of an air raid siren.

Then I hear it. The front door is being bashed on hard, not constantly, but with long spaces between. What the hell?

I throw a brunch coat on and open the door a few centimetres to see who's making such a racket at this god awful time of the morning, then the sun struck me in the face blinding me and the door's being pushed open against my weight, and I still haven't seen who it is. It hits me on the cheek and the shoulder as it is slams open, hard enough to hurt.

"Get out of the way pervert! Where's my deviate of a daughter?" She's shouting, but being the only woman here with a mother I don't know, I guess, all by myself, she's Carolyn's mother. That did it! That ... did ... it! I don't have to take this shit!

"Out," I clutch at my screaming head with both hands, but I'm not putting up with this kind of shit, "get out of here. This is our house and you're not welcome!"

"Who do you think you are you little pervert! I'll go anywhere I..." That was it! There was that word again! I'll give this horrible individual pervert!

I'm just at the right angle. I've had a few fights in my time because certain females at school called me a lesbian. They didn't even know me and they were calling me that. This, this ... cow, is another person who doesn't know me who's calling me disgusting names. I draw back my fist and punch this ... person, right on the right nipple as hard as my body will let me. She drops to the floor like a puppet with cut strings, writhing in agony and clutching at her breast. My fights at school taught me when you fight with other girls they're tough; a punch in the face might injure them but a punch in the tit will stop them cold. She's also about four hundred mil taller and considerably heavier than I am, so I need all the advantage I can get. Other girls are usually more intent on tearing your hair and eyes out.

I pick up the house phone and dial 000 emergency, and arrange for a cop and an ambulance, then go into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. As I walk past the woman I kick her in the guts, hard, wishing I'm wearing Graham's work boots; in fact, I'd park them right beside her head. And I keep right on walking, thinking of all the other cruel and unusual punishments I could inflict on her. Those boots near her face might be a bit much though.

The cops are like all the newbies, on duty when all his seniors and longer serving officers are taking leave. He's the young bloke who took out Tobi's dad at the hospital, Tobi told us his name, and he has a new senior constable previously from Taree with a permanent two day growth. They don't know me and I 'm not bringing my darlings into this. I want them to get their beauty sleep and not suffer like I am.

Two minutes later I let the ambo in with his partner and pass a coffee to each of them. They all ask me the same question, so I tell all four of them the same answer - everything exactly how it happened, what I did to protect myself from this home invader, everything; except I've a very strong idea who she is. " ... that's right, pushed the door in when I opened it to see who was bashing on it. She pushed it in hitting me in the face and barged past me. I've been living here four months and she's never been here before. She kept calling me a pervert, and that was it. I hit her! I didn't invite her in and she pushed right past me." I never mention, of course, every time I walked past her I kicked her in the guts. It would've been considered poor form, but when else can I lay the boot in other than when she's down.

The ambo cuts her bra off and wraps her quickly darkening breast with an ice pack while she pitifully moans. He makes a phone call and opens a fresh syringe injecting her arm with some clear stuff from a metal topped vial out of his multi layered case. His partner brings in a stretcher on wheels; they lift her and cart her out. The cop gets me to read and sign the statement and says they'll be back in touch. They thank me for the coffee, and thirty minutes after they arrive they leave. I pour myself another cup and sit at the kitchen table thinking that was all very satisfying.

Five minutes later, Mitchy stumbles into the kitchen with his eyes still closed and clutches the coffee pot, trying his hardest not to spill it with his hand shaking like he's mixing cocktails. Chris's mum had brought a few bottles of the quality hard stuff with her from the 'Nicknock' pub, proving we're beer people and drink Ouzo and Single Malt Scotch as if we're aiming to get pissed, and not to savour some smoky peat flavour or worry about how smooth the imported Greek piss is.

Graham stuck to twist tops of light all night, and delivered Chris, Chris's mum Yvonne, Billy, my brother and the three amigo sluts, home in the back of the ute. I met Chris's mum for the first time last night. She's got class and guts, and this is the first time since her old man shot through she's lashed out a bit.

I decided not to mention to Our Man she's head over heels in love with him. I got the hint from some of the things she said, as that's the reason why she doesn't come over here often for a chat and cuppa. She didn't take her eyes off him all night. I noticed Our Woman saw it as well, with the smug expression she got when she held his arm between her breasts in a show of ownership and kept glancing at Yvonne. She becomes a little possessive and, I'll say it, jealous, when she's two sheets to the wind. Not with me though, as we're two sides of the same coin.

Mitchy drops into a chair opposite me and brings his mouth down to the mug, slurping noisily then clutching his head due to the racket he himself made. "Cocky, I went for a leak and I saw a cop leaving. Did we cause some trouble last night?" His voice sounds like he's been gargling with Sulphuric acid, H² SO⁴; that came from nowhere; I get the funniest thoughts at times.

I don't reply, just shake my head no, and then I think he forget's he asked the question.

Tobi's the next to mooch into kitchen. Her face drops when she sees there's nothing on the stove. "Okay, okay, I get the hint. Get the eggs and the bacon out of the fridge, Runt," I'll have to be careful when I call her that soon, as I'm only a hundred mil taller than her now. She's grown almost that much since she moved in. The bread's in the chest freezer as we used the fresh stuff up last night making toasted cheese sangers about two this morning. Whose idea was that? Oh yeah, the three amigos got the munchies after a trip outside. I do believe they didn't know we know about Michael's bong. Well, I did give it to him for his birthday, after all. I haven't had a cone since the start of school this year because I didn't want to lose my focus. I'm glad I did, and having my loves with me I feel like I'm walking on air, semi off my face anyway.

Tobi trots out again after piling food near the stove, and is back five minutes later having a piggyback on Graham, both being chased by Carolyn whose boobies are trying to punch her in the chin from under a nightshirt. I hand another coffee to Mitchy and he gives me a look as if he's offering to marry me. There seems to be some humanity emerging from behind the fog of death in his eyes. Everyone's dressed semi-modestly out of deference to the presence of Mitchy, Tobi with one of my old tee-shirts on, already grown out of the new nighties we bought her. Shit, I've just noticed my tee-shirt now fits her like a tee-shirt, gotta get some duds on her. I mention it to Graham as they pass me and he goes straight out the door again, returning in seconds with her still on his shoulders but decorously covered. That was quick.

Carolyn takes over the toaster as I get the bacon all crispy, pile it on some absorbent paper, give the frypan a wipe-over with more of the paper and begin cracking eggs to take every empty space. When you're cooking like this you take your eggs how they come, not how you like 'em. Carolyn piles two plates for Graham, one with stewed tomatoes and onions and baked beans and places a loaf of toast in the middle of the table. Mitchy gives her a grateful expression as she gives him a plate with everything and Tobi doesn't raise her face from her plate as she ploughs in, finishes, then starts taking food off Graham's plate; I don't know if she's being playful or greedy, but she'll lose fixed appendages if she puts them too close to where he's currently operating.

Carolyn and I sit down. She takes a stool at the cupboard as Mitchy is on our last chair. Seeing she's half way up anyway, and the fact she finished the pot of caffeine, she has another pot running then fills everyone's mug. Tobi gets the milk out of the fridge. I give her a look and she also gets a glass, one of a dozen we have of a pub's stolen schooner ones (http://beerbrewguru.com/beer-brew-news/beer-size-guide-to-australian-beer-measurements/). She goes to put the milk back, which would be a first, with its lid on - another first, and notices Graham drinking most of her glass of milk. She noisily objects, racing back to the table still carrying the two litre bottle of milk, trips on the leg of Carolyn's stool and falls flat on her face. She goes flying, and the bottle goes flying straight into Mitchy's hands. He looks shocked, as he should, because his reactions are otherwise well below par. Tobi ends up sliding under the table and crawling up Graham's legs. I think that pair have become extremely attached to each other, as all they do is cuddle, that's after she pummels him two fisted on the chest for a minute.

Tobi's gang of now five turn up, somewhere Angie 'Babe' Reaves and Diana 'Itchy' Hitchcock have become part of them in the last week, and she disengages from Graham to put plates of Special K's and Co-Co Pops around the floor, scores the bottle of milk back from the still stunned Mitchy, placing a splash in each of the plates then filling her glass once again.

Graham reaches for the glass and she turns her head to stare at him, giving him a mean look; I've no idea where she learnt that expression. Graham immediately acts as if he wasn't going to do it, whistling tunelessly, the only way he knows how, and looks around the room as if he's the picture of fake innocence, but still wearing his milk moustache. Carolyn and I have discussed it, whether Graham is an immature example of his gender or the perfect father figure. We both agree, conclusively, on the latter.

Mitchy decides to go back to bed for another hour's sleep. The notorious, now, 'Gang of Five', go out the front door, or try to, until all the plates are placed on the sink, the milk put away, all spillages wiped up and four mouthfuls of teeth scrubbed. We bought some kid sized toothbrushes this week and another toothpaste; we would've bought more, but the new two didn't begin running with them until two days ago. Runt put on a pair of shorts and I can still hear them shouting at each other down the road on the way to another hangout. They've been told straight they can't hang at a house with no parents so I don't know where they've gone, but they're pretty good kids. The three of us sit in the kitchen feeling a little stunned. Carolyn begins to listlessly move on her chair and I tell her to stop.

"We had a visitor this morning bashing on our door, and when I answered she rammed her way in. She was calling me a pervert and you a deviate. She seems not to know of Graham the way she was talking."

"Oh, how is 'Mother Dearest'?"

"Not feeling as well as she felt when she broke in here."

She asks suspiciously, "What did you do Honey?"

"Well, she was standing there calling you and me names, but when she calls my dear love a deviate, well, I got pissed off. I told her to leave, and when she told me she can be anywhere she wants to be I punched her. Hard. In the tit, hard. She dropped to the floor like a pile of steaming hot shit, so I kicked her in the guts, made a pot of coffee then called 000. Neither of the cops knew me and an ambulance took her away. I decided you and Graham should have your sleep and didn't wake you, but I felt real good afterwards. Did I do something wrong?" I suddenly became quite unsure of myself.

Carolyn stands, comes around to my side of the table and kisses me as deeply as she can. It's becoming quite exciting here, and I'm juicing up quite nicely. After all, we three haven't had sex for a full day, at least. Tobi's presence tends to put us off a tad, now Mitch; oh well. She wraps her arms around me and acts as if she's a boa constrictor, saying, "I'm so proud of you! I've always wished I had the guts to do that to her, as she's had me terrified of her since I was a little kid. You're my hero!"

Graham just takes another suck on his coffee, looks at me fondly and mutters, "You're not just a tough little bitch, but you're our tough little bitch. That woman gives me the willies. Carolyn, can you ring base and find out what they're doing about it? Don't ring the hospital. We'd be better off if the 'Wicked Witch of the East's' tit fell off."

Neither of them had ever had a kind word about the woman, and suffering in hospital as she is - they still don't.

"They say she's going to be charged with home invasion and will be in the lockup looking for bail as soon a she's out of hospital."

"Where will she get bail from?" I tell you, I know nothing about the woman.

"My grandma, her mother was granddame of a massive media fortune which was handed down to Mum for safekeeping and which is supposed to be inherited by me. I've never read the will, but Mum has some kind of safeguard clause in it only allowing her a yearly income until I turn thirty. Then it becomes purely mine and it says something about her getting a living allowance from me; I believe, as she has a court order in place denying me access to the will. That was done when I turned fifteen and I've never been given a reason." I think my Angel is too naïve, so after Xmas I'm going to look into that. All for one, etc. I love her; I'd do anything for her.

The front door slams open and a lot of minor grunts and groans can be heard. Graham has just stood to fill his mug again, so he investigates. In a minute maybe two, three of the Gang of Five enter the kitchen, right behind them Itchy and The Runt enter too, pushing a wheelchair with a girl about their age crumpled on it like a crushed doll. She gives us a weird kind of smile from a face which glows with happiness. "Anna, these are my Mummies and my Daddy. This is Anna. We went to her place where we hang out 'cause she's so much fun, and her oldies wouldn't answer their door. She needs breakfast and lives in her own room out the back and can't feed herself and needs to be cleaned up 'cause she wears a nappy. Dad, (she's been calling us that for the last few days, we don't correct her) could you go down there and see if they're alright ... please."

Tobi isn't a worrywart and she wasn't smiling. Anna put on that blinding smile again, and made a sound like, "Peath."

My man doesn't say a word and goes to our room to change.

Graham

If Tobi's worried I decide this is important. Young Anna isn't a whinger, I'm sure, having more than enough troubles without whinging about every little thing. I slip on the first pair of shorts I can place my hand on, a tee shirt and some thongs* and Tobi and Jemiima accompany me on each side with Jemiima showing me how to get through her neat, well-trimmed back yard, and through missing palings in the back fence, across the dunny cart lane which is narrower at the river end. I knock on the back door next to a piece of closed in rear veranda with a shallow ramp leading to another door. I receive no response, but there's slight odour of rotten onions. Unfortunately I recognise that smell: gas. I run around the front, breaking a lattice side gate down to do it, and leap on the front veranda to bash loudly on the front. No response.

* Thongs to us, to you are flip flops I believe. How extrordinarily onomatopoeish, of you. Don't tell me there's no such word as onomatopoeish, as I just coined it; Cool?

mthommotoo

"Girls go down until you can find someone home and get them to ring 000. There's gas! Ask for firies, ambos and cops! Don't just stand there, go."

I hold my breath after some deep ones to hyperventilate, and kick the door so hard it falls off its hinges. I don't shout as I want to, as the air in the house is full and heavy with gas making my eyes water. The first door on the right is the main bedroom and there are two still bodies seemingly asleep in the bed. I rip the bedclothes back and stand on the bed between them then wrap an arm around each of them and carry both, running out the front door. I don't know these people and don't know if there's anyone else in there. As I drop the bodies, old William Windslake, an old mate of my late Dad's, is being led by Jemiima with his mobile to his ear, "Bill, is there anyone else in here?"

"Yeah, a teenager and a crippled kid out the back." It takes a bit to get air into my lungs as I keep coughing, then dive back through the broken door. Luckily all these old houses are basically designed the same, old miners cottages, so I know there's only one other bedroom. I don't hesitate at that door and run straight through, closed as it is, as if it isn't there. Yep, another body. I wrap the sheet she's covered with around her and am near on suffocating by the time I run back outside. Bill's giving the bloke mouth to mouth, the woman's receiving the same from a mature looking woman I don't recognise. I drop the kid on the lawn and unwrap her; a scrawny flat chested teenager, wearing panties and I can't feel a pulse or breathing.

I started in with mouth to mouth immediately and the first breath she exhales reeks of the gas. I don't know how long I keep it up, someone taps me on a shoulder and an ambo takes over with a machine while another feels for signs of life and puts a heart defibrillator on her. I drop on my back beside them, I'm absolutely stuffed and coughing my guts up. I see 'Gun' a council worker I know well, coming up from the back yard then kneels by my side, "Are you alright, Shortarse?"

"I'll tell you when I can breathe again, Gun, a bit of trouble getting my wind back. What(cough)are(cough)you(cough)doing(cough)here?"

"I turned the gas off."

"How are they?"

"Don't know, they're still working on them. Where's the crippled kid?"

"My place with my women. She's good."

Gun stands and calls a young cop over, "The crippled kid's at Shortarses' with his people."

"Where's that?"

I give him the address. "Are you serious? I've already been there once this morning."

I look at him with a wry grin, 'Well you're about to go back there again, aint ya?"

The cop asks Gun, while I am having a good cough, "What's 'is name?"

"Shortarse Guilford."

"No his real name!"