‘Hi, there.’
Shit. What now? Couldn’t she be left alone?
Larceny raised her head and groaned. A Salvo. That was all she needed. She put her head back down on her knees again.
‘I thought you might like a warm bed for the night,’ said the Salvo in a kindly voice. Why did religious types always have the same tone of voice, like they were doing you a big favour by noticing your existence?
‘I’m fine, thanks. I’m waiting for someone,’ Larceny lied. She looked round. She must’ve been sitting against the wall for hours. Her legs were cold and stiff, and round her the night people were drifting in and settling down for the evening.
‘I’m Kevin,’ he said, squatting down beside her. She shot him a sideways look. Young, earnest, a pink face, wire-rimmed glasses behind which grey eyes regarded her compassionately. ‘Who are you?’
‘Good question.’
Who was she? Larceny Leyton, fifteen-nearly-sixteen, female, loner, mad.
‘What’s your name?’
He was persistent.
‘Larceny.’
‘Larceny? That’s an odd—er—what’s your last name?’
‘Leyton.’
‘Oh. Well, Larceny Leyton, you look like you could do with a nice hot meal and a nice warm bed.’
‘Why?’
Her question threw him. He frowned.
‘You’re sitting here alone. You’ve been here for quite some time.’
He’d been watching her. Creep. She was about to tell him to get lost when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a guy in a black leather jacket walking through the far doorway near the clocks. Was it Nick? She wasn’t sure but …
‘Yeah. Right. I’ll take the bed,’ she said, jumping to her feet. ‘Let’s go.’
Kevin was taken aback. Her sudden change of heart had shocked him and thrown him off balance. He got awkwardly to his feet as she faced him, clutching her bag. Then she wheeled away, making for the exit into Swanston Street. He followed, striding to keep up with her. She paused in the street, looking back at him.
‘So. Where’s the warm bed?’ She waved a hand at the crawling traffic, the driving rain.
‘Not far. We can walk.’
‘You’ll get wet!’
She said it with a trace of sarcasm in her voice, and, as if to make her point, she pulled up her hood.
‘I’ve got a brolly.’
‘A what?’
‘Umbrella.’
She hadn’t noticed it. In his hand. He undid the tab and opening up the umbrella, raised it high above his head.
‘Ready?’
‘Sure. Take me to your leader, Kevin.’
They walked across with the lights along Flinders Street and down another street to a dark, grim-looking building. A few vagrants were shambling through the entrance, wet and cold, wrapped in their personal misery. Larceny jammed on her brakes.
‘Hang on, man. I’m not going in there with them.’
‘No, the adolescent accommodation is next door. This is where the food is, Larceny.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
She was frightened. To be classified as a vagrant, to line up in a soup kitchen with the lost and lonely, to be a charity case? Forget it.
‘It’s good food. There’s tomato soup, roast chicken, and banana custard.’
‘I hate tomato soup, chicken and custard,’ she snapped.
‘Well —’ Kevin seemed nonplussed. His job was to rescue the homeless, provide food and shelter, and do God’s work. No one had ever complained about the food before. Maybe she was just an ungrateful little street kid who was on the run for kicks. Then he saw the hunted look in her eyes, and realised with shock that she was scared.
He capitulated. ‘Would you rather have a burger and fries?’ he said.
‘They make burgers and fries in there?’ She jerked her thumb at the doorway.
‘No. At Burgermania down the street. I’ll treat you.’
‘No. I’ll treat you!’
She grinned at him, and it was as if a halogen light had been switched on from the inside. She was radiant! He blinked. She was beautiful in a wild, untamed sort of way. He saw the intelligent acknowledgment of his surprise gleaming in her eyes and the mocking smile curving her lips. He was so astounded that he caved in straight away.
‘Okay. I don’t get treated very often.’
‘I’ll just bet you don’t.’
He had a sudden awful thought that maybe her money wasn’t honestly acquired, but wisely bit his tongue as they walked round the corner and down another street towards the welcoming big pink plastic icon that symbolised Burgermania.
They went inside. It was noisy, warm and steamy with bodies and food. A few customers looked with surprise at the young Salvo and the wild-looking girl at his side, then went on eating. It was none of their business. Kevin and Larceny walked up to the counter and gave their orders.
‘Eat in or takeaway?’ asked the girl whose picture beamed at them from the wall behind her announcing that she was crew person of the month. Her badge said “Katie”. Katie the Crew Person of the Month, thought Larceny. Was that her fifteen minutes of fame? Andy Warhol had said that everyone on the planet got to have fifteen minutes of fame. So where was hers?
‘We’ll eat here,’ said Kevin, as Larceny wondered what you had to do to be crew person of the month. Flog more burgers? Be nice to the customers? Make the most money? Be a team player? But then, who cared? And who wanted to jerk burgers round all day long? Who wanted to be famous anyway?
Katie was quick. That’s how she got to be crew person, Larceny decided, and as if by magic two burgers, fries and Cokes appeared on the trays. Rummaging in her pocket she found a twenty and passed it over. Katie’s lightning fingers moved across the till keyboard, then she handed over the change.
‘Thanks.’
Larceny pocketed the change, and picked up her tray. Kevin followed her with his tray to a spare table.
‘This is a first,’ said Larceny, biting into the thick burger, melted cheese dribbling down her chin.
‘A first? Burgermania?’
‘No. Having a meal with a rep from God. What’s it like, being a Salvo?’
‘It’s exhausting sometimes, but it has its rewards.’
‘Yeah? Like what?’
‘Like rescuing kids off the streets.’
‘Meaning me?’ She looked at him over the top of her burger.
‘You. And others.’
‘What if I don’t want to be rescued? What if I’m too bad to be saved?’
‘You are one of God’s children,’ he said seriously.
‘One of God’s children, eh? So. What’s He or She done for me?’ She took a sip of her Coke, watching him warily.
Kevin considered this carefully. ‘You’re alive, you’re well, you’re in a country where there’re no wars and oppression, you’re —’
‘Oh, per-lease. Spare me the sermon, Kev. My life’s a shithole.’
‘But it needn’t be like that. If you put your life in God’s care …’
Larceny banged her Coke down so hard it slopped all over the table.
‘Forget it, man. I don’t trust anybody with my life, especially some spirit in the sky who’s done absolutely zip for me so far, except maybe let me find some money in this coat pocket.’
‘Maybe you haven’t given God a chance.’
‘And maybe God hasn’t given me a chance.’
She felt the anger bubbling up, the grey mist swirling into her brain. She gripped the cup so hard that it split and the Coke ran in a brown sticky river all over the table top.
‘I’m outa here.’ She jumped up, stuffing the last of her chips in her mouth.
‘Wait!’
He was on his feet, coming at her, reaching for her with his hands. She snatched up the umbrella, holding it like a lance, jabbing him back. There was a stunned silence as the diners watched in horror, their forgotten burgers halfway to their lips.
‘Larceny. Calm down. Look, just sit here quietly and we’ll talk this through.’
But the voices were taunting, chanting, now screeching in her head.
‘Kill. Kill!’
She went for his face with the umbrella, belting him with it, wielding it like a sword. He ducked, trying to cover his head with his hands. She was like a mad thing, hitting, striking out with a demented fury as he backed away. His glasses fell off and crunched under her feet as she lunged again.
‘Hey. Stop it!’
A big burly man leapt up from his seat and tried to grab the umbrella from her. She whirled and kicked out at him. Chairs crashed, people screamed as she lashed out blindly, consumed by a red rage that ripped through her, giving her superhuman strength. Kids started crying and people cowered in their seats as they watched her assault with astounded eyes.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ cried a woman above the din.
‘She’s psycho. Probably on drugs,’ said a man, ducking as Larceny crashed through the melee, swiping wildly with the umbrella. It hit a chair and broke in half.
‘That’s enough.’
The big guy grabbed her and pinned her arms behind her back, She struggled, kicked, spat and swore as two cops came charging through the door. Katie had been super quick on the phone. They must’ve been practically cruising past the door! Larceny fought and struggled as hands seized her. The cuffs went on. Suddenly, beaten and defeated she slumped and would have fallen if one of the cops hadn’t caught her. All the anger and rage drained out, and she was just a confused, scared kid.
‘What the hell happened here?’ asked the cop, staring at her bent head and then at the chaos round him.
‘She’s sick, man. A total psycho,’ said a young guy in the corner. Kids were still wailing as the cops hustled her through the door and out into the street. Kevin followed, wiping bits of burger from his uniform.
‘Do you know this young woman?’ asked a cop.
‘Yes. Well, I know her name but no personal details. We were having a meal and she suddenly went berserk.’
Larceny looked at him from under her tangled mane of red hair and blinked. Where was she? She twisted her head and looked down at her hands. What was she doing handcuffed? What had happened? Who was this Salvo?
Then it came rushing back. The voices. Telling her to kill. Oh, God. Had she killed somebody? Was she truly mad? She looked at Kevin.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t control them any more. The voices. I can’t make them stop. I can’t.’
She started to cry, great gut-wrenching sobs.
‘We’d better get her to hospital,’ said one of the cops. ‘She’s a real nut case. On drugs for sure.’
They put her in the cop car. Kevin got in beside her and put his arm round her. For once she didn’t flinch away. She was too tired, too scared and too lonely inside.
‘I’m here with you,’ he said. ‘You’ll be all right soon. Tell me, has this happened before?’
Before? thought Larceny dully. A thousand times before. She thought she’d beaten the voices, had them under control. Thought it was the dope she’d choofed, all the psycho drugs they’d given her over the years that had caused the voices. She hadn’t smoked dope for weeks, hadn’t taken her antidepressants, knew she could beat the bloody voices in the end, control her rages. And now this!
They arrived at Emergency. And it was the Alfred. It seemed ironic that she was being admitted to the very hospital where she’d brought Frantik when he’d got his bad whack. He’d walked out, but would she be able to do the same? They’d pump her full of sedatives then send her back to a psych hospital, more drugs, more shrinks trying to shrink up her brain.
‘I’ll stay with her,’ said Kevin, as they took her into a cubicle. ‘I don’t think you need to be here,’ he said to the cops, as one cautiously undid her handcuffs. Fool. Idiot, thought Larceny, looking at the cop underneath her lashes. Did he think she was going to attack him? She didn’t have the strength left to swat a mosquito. A nurse peeled off her coat and took off her shoes. A doctor arrived looking harassed. Wet nights in the big city always brought a multitude of accidents. He had a pedestrian with a head injury, a couple of whiplash victims from back-enders, more road accident victims with lacerations, suspected broken bones and internal bruising, a drunk who’d fallen down some stairs, and a kid with second degree burns from falling onto a heater. There was no room, there were no beds, and he was tired. He pulled back her sleeve to inject her with a sedative in case she started performing again and saw the scars.
‘Shit!’
He seldom swore and was seldom shocked. He’d seen it all before. But the multiple scars told their own terrible tale. Kevin sucked in his breath and the two cops looked at each other over Larceny’s head.
‘Maybe we should stay,’ said the older one.
‘No, she’ll be fine. I’ll sedate her and you can talk to her in the morning,’ said the doctor, noting with professional eyes her waxy pallor and exhausted face. ‘She needs to sleep. We’ll run some blood tests and find out what she’s been using.’
‘Nothing,’ mumbled Larceny, but her tongue felt too big for her mouth, and she only managed a weak whimper as the needle slid into her arm.
When she woke up it was dark. She was in a hospital ward. Someone was snoring in the corner bed, and there was a faint light from the nurses’ station down the hall. Cautiously she turned her head, expecting to find cops and security glaring down at her, but there was no one. Not even Kevin, God’s messenger and willing worker. So much for keeping his word. Larceny’s lips curved contemptuously. She’d let down her guard for two seconds, had a meal with a Salvo, and look what had happened. She’d really lost it. She raised her head and everything spun round. She wasn’t used to medication any more. While she was on loads of antidepressants and modecate she didn’t get angry and the voices went away, but who wanted to go through life doped up to the eyeballs? What the hell was wrong with her?
She wasn’t schizo. Sir Harold, the old guy in the cream suit, now that was schizo, slipping in and out of reality with delusions that he was the Son of God. That was really schizo. She was normal, except for the voices. Once she got rid of them, she’d be okay. No, not normal; she had a high IQ. Did people with high IQs hear voices in their heads? She’d never thought to ask the shrinks.
Carefully Larceny sat up, pushed back the covers and swung her legs out of the bed and onto the floor. She sat there for a moment till her head stopped spinning. She knew where her clothes would be: in the narrow cupboard beside the bed. She’d been in enough hospitals to know the routine. The cupboard squeaked as she opened it. In the darkness her searching fingers found her clothes, shoes and the coat. Good. Even her tote bag was there. One of the cops must’ve picked it up, or maybe Kevin. Whatever, it was here safe and sound.
Amazing. No guards, no nurse on duty. They were either slack, thinking she was out for the count, or busy. She got dressed quietly. She slipped on her running shoes, hoisted her bag over her arm, and crept out the door and along the passage. There were two nurses in the station, one writing something and one on the phone. Bending over double, Larceny slid along the wall, out of their vision. She got to the end of the passage. An elevator? Or the stairs. No choice, an elevator could attract attention. She sneaked down the stairs, holding onto the bannister for support.
Reaching the next level, she paused for breath. Moans and sighs drifted through the hospital darkness as humans turned and tossed in their restless sleep. Down more stairs. Keeping to the wall, she moved like a shadow to the entrance. The automatic doors slid silently back and she slipped through like a haunted being, ghostly in her long coat, her feet making no sound on the steps.
Without looking back, she set off up Commercial Road. She’d tried the downside of town before. Now she was heading uptown to whatever fate was going to dish out this time.
So much for God and the Salvos.