Fighting Ruben Wolfe by Markus Zusak

Author:Markus Zusak [Zusak, Markus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925064384
Publisher: Scholastic Australia
Published: 2000-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

9

‘Grab that bag there,’ Steve tells me. Just like he said he would, he’s moving out. All his stuff is cleared from the basement as he prepares to leave home and get a flat with his girl. He will rent for a while, I’d say, and then he’ll probably buy something. He’s been working a long while now. Good job, just started part-time university. Nice suits. Not bad for a few years out of school. He just says it’s time to leave, with Mum and Dad struggling to pay bills, and Dad refusing the dole.

He isn’t dramatic.

He doesn’t look down into his room with a last nostalgic gaze.

He just smiles, gives Mum a hug, shakes Dad’s hand and walks out.

On the porch, Mum cries. Dad holds up his hand in goodbye. Sarah holds the last remnants of a hug in her arms. A son and brother is gone. Rube and I travel with him, to help him unpack what’s left of his stuff. The flat he will live in is only about a kilometre away, but he says he wants to move south.

‘Down near the National Park.’

‘Good idea.’

‘Fresh air and beaches.’

‘Sounds good.’

We drive off and it’s only me who turns around to see the rest of the Wolfe pack on the front porch. They will watch the car till it disappears. Then, one by one, they will go back inside. Behind the flyscreen. Behind the wooden door. Behind the walls. Into the world within the world.

‘Bye Steve,’ we say, when all is unpacked.

‘I’m only up the street for now,’ he says, and I reach for a semblance of recognition in his voice. Anything that sounds like It’s okay lads. We’ll be right. We all will be. Steve’s voice sounds nothing like it though. We all know that Steve will be okay. There’s no irony in the word for him. Steve will always be okay. That’s just how things are.

None of us embrace.

Steve and Rube shake hands.

Steve and I shake hands.

His last words are, ‘Make sure Mum’s okay, right?’

‘Right.’

We run home, together, in the nearly-dark of Tuesday evening. Rube is waiting for me as we run. He pushes me. The next fight loiters around, like a thief, waiting to thieve. It’s five days away.

Each night, I dream about it.

I nightmare.

I sweat.

In my dreams, I fight Perry. I fight Steve and Rube. Even my mother steps up and beats the hell out of me. The weirdest thing is that every time, my father is in the crowd, just watching. He says nothing. Does nothing. He simply watches everything go by, or reads the classifieds, looking for that elusive job.

On Saturday night, I hardly sleep at all.

All through Sunday, I mope around. I barely eat.

Like last week, Perry picks us up, but he takes us to Glebe this time, way down the end.

All is the same.

Same type of crowd.

Same guys, same blondes, same smell.

Same fear.

The warehouse is old and creaky, and the room we sit in is nearly falling apart.

Before the doors kick open, Rube reminds me.

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