Tales Tall and True by Philip Rintoul

Author:Philip Rintoul
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
Published: 2021-04-09T00:00:00+00:00

***

About the time the supermarket was opening, Kyle was sitting on the toilet, trying to figure out what he was going to do during the day.

“Kyle!” His mother’s hostile call. She had probably found his junk.

“I’m here.”

The toilet was at the back of the house. She was paused outside.

“Kyle, will you go and buy your mum some ciggies, please.” Her voice lightened, a little coquettish.

She got like that when Col was down from the north. Kyle accepted her live-away-live-in boyfriend, heaps better than his abusive father, who he hadn’t seen for five years. When neighbours or friends were around, he was called “Collin”. It was a pretty good street, better than the other place they had left about a year ago.

“Mum, they won’t sell me cigarettes, not at the super, anyway.”

He tore a paper strip carefully off the toilet roll.

“Well, go with Jeremy and buy them. I’ll leave the money on the table.”

She and Col had stumbled in about 2 am. He had got to bed just before them. Bet she’s going back to bed with Col. Sharlene and Tamarind must still be asleep.

He ducked into the bathroom next door, washed his hands, looked for bum fluff on his face, tip toed down the passage, saw his mother’s bedroom door was closed, swept the crap from the night under his bed, threw on a shirt and shorts, quietly pocketed the $50 pineapple on the kitchen table, then jumped onto his bike, which he had left leaning outside on the back wall.

He hit the pedals, pulled a one-wheel stand, and tore down the driveway to the front. He pedalled hard down the street, turned the corner to the right, and half way down, skidded into Jer’s front yard.

He tapped on Jer’s side window. Tousled curly hair and face appeared inside window sill.

Window swung open. “Watcha want?”

“Me mum wants some cigs. You gonna come?”

“Got some extra?”

“Yeah, maybe.” There might be some change.

A minute later, Jer sauntered down the driveway, pushing his T shirt into his jeans. He was a well-built seventeen-year-old, trying out for the footie draft. He was filling in time, working as a brickie’s labourer, with the day off.

The sun was bright. Jer squinted. “We can walk down. Leave your wheels.”

They started walking, barefooted, down the footpath to the supermarket.

“Is your Mum’s boyfriend stayin’?”

“Yeah. Mum ’n Col went to the trots last week. They won heaps!”

“How much?”

Kyle wasn’t sure. “Hundreds.”

“Pretty good, bro.”

They padded on. Jer turned to him. “How’s Sharz, she still hangin’ on?”

Sharlene was probably snoring her head off. She was fifteen, two years older than he. Tam was one year older. She and Tam were bitches most of the time. “She’s ok.”

“I might come around an’ see her, ok?”

“Yeh, if you wanna.”

“Hey, Kyle, what was happ’nin’ last night?”

Last night was a blank. “Nothin’ much. We wen’ down to the centre then wen’ to the park.”

“Did Robbo go?”

Seven of them were there, just fooling around. Robbo, a year older than Jer, going on thirty, was there. Some having a sniff.

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