Chasing the McCubbin by Sandi Scaunich

Author:Sandi Scaunich
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925760736
Publisher: Transit Lounge

Early that morning, Ron wrote himself a note to remind him to give Meggs the envelope with the dough, deliberately placing it on his workbench.

He has to admit that since the young fella joined him, they’ve had some luck. That grandfather clock alone raked in fifteen hundred dollars. Rather than forking out money for an ad in the Trading Post, Ron decided to sell it directly to the dealer willing to pay the highest price, even though he was a shady character. Indeed, restoring that clock would have been more hassle than it was worth, and he reminds himself often that fifteen hundred dollars is a real quid. He often thinks about the idiots who threw it out and smiles to himself; finds like that are what make this game worthwhile.

Ron picks up the reminder note from his workbench and tells Meggs to wait while he fetches the money. Ron notices the young fella’s expression, both confused and surprised. When he returns, the young fella is standing like a forgotten garden statue, still and almost porous, next to a lovely little piece of furniture.

‘I picked up that little table last night,’ Ron says. ‘The bloke said it was about twenty years old. It’s not antique but it has oodles of character. I’ll trick her up and sell it for maybe sixty dollars.’ He gives Meggs a few seconds to respond, and when he does not, Ron hands him envelope. It sags with coins, and hints of red and green and blue line the opening. The young fella stands still, and to Ron’s surprise, does not rip it open. Not knowing what to do or how to interpret Megg’s hesitation, Ron launches into a spiel about the business. ‘Now, as I’ve said, this game is like raffle tickets. You’ll be down to the bottom dollar, and then bang, you’ll come across something that’s worth a real quid. In this game, you can make a month’s wages in just one day.’

Finally, the young fella slowly begins to open the envelope. When Megg’s eyes widen at the sight of the contents, Ron’s mouth momentarily curves into a sort of smile. A few moments pass before Ron continues. ‘I’m paying for fuel. It’s all wear and tear on the van, and I do all the organising and ringing around. You got twenty per cent of what’s been sold so far. Not bad! And remember, kiddo, we could find a McCubbin. That one day could be the big one. You don’t get much, and then you get that big find and it makes up for all the others.’

There is a moment when they are both standing close, facing each other, silent. For the past three months, they have spent every Friday and Saturday together, and Ron has not only grown to accept the young fella’s quietness, but in some way appreciates it. Young Meggs is different to all the other young people in the area, who clog the shopping strips and mope around in dirty hordes looking for trouble.

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