Sixty-four thousand years ago last Monday the final dinosaur succumbed to the ‘extinction’ vogue. Jay Ryan theorised that his legacy continued through the idiosyncrasies of the habitually annoying employees of Byron Bay’s Road Transport Authority.
Five cubicles were joined as one and staffed by two, to serve those trying to renew their licence during their lunch break. Not a chance. Jay had beaten the lunch crowd and waited for over an hour and a half. Nothing to do but stare at the electronic number pad above the service counter, hoping by chance the hypnotic orange number would skip straight to his.
He looked around the waiting room at the bored faces flipping through ancient copies of Reader’s Digest, before focusing on the bespectacled, grey-haired woman trying to hide behind her computer screen. Dinosaur number one.
The dinosaur’s twin, beavering away in the next cubicle, seemed to be processing her customer quota quicker, albeit only just. Not much of a challenge really, as the other one hadn’t served a customer for almost ten minutes. Perhaps she’d completed her previous licence renewal a little too quickly for corporate standards and was now making amends.
Dinosaur one peeled the wrapper off her third consecutive chocolate treat and ducked behind the computer screen to eat it. She popped back out and glanced towards Jay. Just a quick, guilty glance followed by more keyboard tapping. Twenty-seven chews for the latest one. Only twenty-five for the previous effort – maybe her jaw was tiring.
In Jay’s interrogation days, the dinosaur would have been perfect for a ploy. He would have had her processing prisoners of war, making them go through the pain he now felt. The old girl would have had the prisoner’s secrets in no time. They’d have been begging to be processed quicker, pleading with Jay to make the menace go away.
A sound like a doorbell shattered the silent flicking of dated magazines. All eyes looked up to the number pad. Number seventy-eight flashed on the board and Jay instantly felt like he’d won the lottery. He rose to his feet like a winner, turning to face the crowd. The crowd reacted by looking at the screen, checking their numbers, looking back to the screen, glaring at Jay, rolling their eyes and then dropping their heads.
Jay moseyed to the counter and stood in front of dinosaur one. No chair for the meek. No ‘hello’ or ‘can I help you?’ either. Just a look down her nose over the top of ancient spectacles. Jay guessed the raise of her eyebrows meant he had to speak first.
‘Just like to renew my licence, thanks.’
‘Do you have your old one?’ she asked in a monotone voice.
Jay took his time pretending to rifle through his near-empty wallet and handed over the expired card.
The dinosaur studied the card, shook her head and started typing away at her keyboard. After another shake of the head, she said, ‘This licence expired six months ago.’
‘That’s right. I haven’t been driving for about a year.’
‘Why not?’
Does it matter? he thought. ‘Got shot in the foot. Couldn’t drive.’
She didn’t blink at the disclosure. ‘Do you have a medical certificate to say you can drive again?’
‘No.’
‘You need one before getting this renewed.’
‘That’s a five-year licence that expired after I was shot. If I was shot two years ago, I wouldn’t have needed a medical certificate to drive again.’
‘But it didn’t happen that way, did it?’
His frustration boiled. ‘Listen, I don’t have a medical certificate. I run ten kilometres a day, much more than probably ninety-eight per cent of licensed drivers in this country. I just want to renew mine and get out of here.’
She pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose, using her middle finger. A clear sign the dinosaur was flipping Jay the bird in a covert way. Dinosaurs had evolved. ‘I can’t process this without a medical certificate.’
One, two, three deep breaths. ‘What if I had told you I couldn’t be bothered getting my licence renewed before now and because I got pulled over yesterday, I have to get it done?’
‘You didn’t tell me that. You said you had been shot.’
The fact was that both statements were true. On top of an outrageous fine, he’d been given twenty-four hours to have the licence renewed. ‘How about your twin over there who gets through her quotas quicker? Think she’ll process it?’
A thin smile played across her lips. ‘Maybe, but you’d have to take a new number and wait.’
He felt an urge to walk behind the counter and process his own licence. Maybe even process a few more while he was there. Instead, he swallowed hard and reached across to retrieve his expired licence. But before he grasped it, the dinosaur snatched the card off the counter with speed Jay thought impossible, considering her effort to date.
She reached in a drawer, grabbed a pair of scissors, and cut the card. ‘I can’t let you keep an expired licence.’
Jay closed his eyes and counted slowly to five. He got to four before a scream shattered the quiet of the waiting room. Jay turned to see two masked men carrying rifles walking casually through the main entrance. Too casually. They held their rifles close to their chests, at forty-five degrees, barrel towards the floor. They didn’t expect trouble, or the rifle-butts would have dug into their shoulders. Jay noted the rifles were 5.56mm AUSTYER – standard Australian Army issue.
‘Get on the ground! This is a hold-up!’ They stood either side of the doorway, feet shoulder-width apart, motionless, like identical action figures.
Jay bent slightly at the knees, looked around without moving his head, assimilating the scene. There was a momentary pause while the crowded room wondered if the scene was for real. Then the panic began. The two gunmen remained cool. No swearing. No movements. Just assessing the situation like Jay. They moved their heads in unison around the room, while customers overturned their chairs, eager to hug the thin carpet.
The gunmen were looking for immediate threats. Before both men had turned towards him, Jay reached behind the counter and palmed the pair of scissors. He gave the dinosaur a look that told her to keep quiet. He doubted she even saw him grab the makeshift weapon. She stared at the gunmen, paralysed.
By the time Jay lay on the floor with his hands on his head and the scissors tucked under his chest, the screaming had died down. He watched both men place the attached slings of their weapons over their heads. Both retrieved knapsack-sized duffel bags from behind their backs.
‘Listen up and we’ll all get through this just fine. Women, place your purses in my partner’s bag and get out of here now.’ Nobody moved. ‘Last chance or you stay here with the men. Move!’
A flurry of activity as women of all shapes and sizes scrambled for the door, tripping over each other to place their purses into the duffel bag. They waited until they got outside before they started screaming again. Jay thought it strange the gunmen would allow the women to leave so early; to prematurely alert the outside world an armed hold-up was going down.
The two dinosaurs were intercepted as they tried to get out from behind the counter. The gunman who had spoken stepped towards them and threw his duffel bag over the counter.
‘Before you leave, fill it up, ladies.’
Jay couldn’t see them, but guessed they were serving the gunman faster than he’d been attended.
The last of the women bolted out the door. Less than a minute had passed. While the dinosaurs were filling up the duffel bag, the gunmen instructed the men to remove their wallets and place them on the floor by their heads.
He couldn’t see the gunman giving orders but, as Jay retrieved his wallet, he could see the other one grab each wallet, check for something inside, then toss it in his bag. A black boot came to rest a couple of inches from Jay’s face. The smell of waterproof polish hit Jay immediately. A crack of leather as it scrunched together. The gunman had picked up Jay’s wallet. Definite military, Jay thought. The precision, execution, weapons and gear.
And a sinking feeling in Jay’s gut told him they had come for him.