FIVE BUCKS FOR GAS

Painted Lady houses from Civil War profiteering, and marks of the Underground Railways that funnelled escaped slaves through to safety. These are the legacy of the mid-nineteenth-century heyday of the ‘most Republican town in America’. The cemetery of this Midwest town holds a famous comedian’s remains, and the Wright brothers made their historic flights within a few hours’ drive.

The Australian family moved into a house that looked more magnificent than it was, although it was quite satisfactory. It was like a half-mansion on the main street, a street leafy in summer and solid-looking in winter. At Christmas many of its houses were overdecorated, with one of them so weighed down with Santas and sleighs and snowmen that its owner joked it would collapse under the weight some day. At the far end of the street was a Mennonite house, with no electricity connected, and its wood pile an act of precision and faith.

Coming in from work, Alan walked past the porch swing, then backed up and sat down. Briefcase alongside him, he swung the chair gently and looked out over the street. It was warming up a little, though it was already dark. After a deadly winter, the appearance of buds on the trees down Main Street made him feel positive. The door opened and Louisa poked her head out.

Come in out of the cold, she laughed.

It’s quite nice, he said, moving over to give Louisa room. He patted the seat as a hint.

No, it’s too cold, and the kids are at the table having tea. She said ‘tea’ in an Australian resistance to change. They’d always said ‘tea’ rather than ‘dinner’ when she was growing up and she clung to it. Family was a long way away and it made them feel close.

Come on, he cajoled.

She did, briefly, and he pawed her, but she pulled away. The neighbours, Al! He muttered something about ‘anodyne neighbours’ and followed her in.

The knock on the door came late, well after the kids had gone to bed.

Who on earth is that, Al?

Wouldn’t have a clue. You stay here and I’ll go down and check it out.

Alan opened the door tentatively, with visions of a handgun going off in his face. Theirs might be a quiet part of America, but it was America, and he hadn’t been there long enough for statistics or likelihood to settle him down. Instead, they yelled out at him from every newspaper and news website, convincing him he’d open the door late one night and that’d be it.

Hello.

Hi, can I help you?

Sorry to bother you, sir, but our … my car’s broken down just around the corner and I’m wondering if you can lend me five bucks … five dollars for gas? I’ve got this can and the gas station is only a ten-minute walk and you’d be really helping me and my wife out.

Sure … five … wait there.

Louise was whisper-calling down the stairs, Who is it, Al, what do they want?

Shush, he said, waving her back up the stairs, I’ll tell you in a minute. He found a ten and two twenties in the wallet he kept in the study and took it to the door. I’ve only got a ten … don’t worry about it.

Thanks, sir … that’s very kind of you. I’ll return the money. I’ll bring back five tonight and the other five …

Don’t worry, said Alan. We’re going to bed. Then he added, Would your wife like to wait inside? Immediately he regretted his foolish error. Maybe this was where it had always been heading. Then they’d be inside. But he’d left the door open and the security screen unlocked while getting the wallet and nothing had happened. The stranger was still standing in the same place, looking out across the streetlights and through the still-bare trees in what Alan supposed was the direction of his car. The porch swing hadn’t tempted the stranger. It swung ever so slightly but there was a gentle breeze. He knew the man hadn’t even given it a nudge. Handing the ten bucks over, Alan looked at the man without wanting to seem to do so. Very white, even in the shadows, and very thin. Medium height. Unshaven.

The man thanked him, saying. No that’s okay, sir, my wife will wait with the car. As he was closing the door, Alan called, Please don’t worry about the money. Happy to be of help.

The man shook his head, maybe said something, but Alan had closed the door and was already meeting Louise, who had stuck close to the wall and sidled down the stairs to conspire, to extract the truth, to alleviate her curiosity and fears. It was such a new country to them all.

*

Louise answered the door with her youngest in tow. Alan hadn’t come in from work and the two older kids were playing with new friends, a brother and a sister. That was a relief to Louise. She was planning to nip out with Jack and see one of her husband’s female colleagues who had invited her over for a cup of coffee. She’d bought Jack a DVD to watch while the adults chatted. But the knock was emphatic.

As she opened the door a man stood back from the porch light into the shadows. It could have been to hide himself, or so as not to intimidate. She decided the latter and opened the door wide, the security screen still locked, Jack behind her ready to burst through but restrained by her arm. Yes? Can I help you?

Is the man … your husband in, ma’am?

The man? She hesitated, and studied him again. She could see him more clearly. A lanky man, she thought. He looked earnest. He was pushing his hair back. A tic, she wondered, then decided that was ungenerous. He was nervous. Can someone look honest, really? she asked herself.

He’s caught up, she said a little too earnestly.

Caught up?

Busy.

He’s not here, Mumma! said Jack.

Feeling herself redden, she pushed Jack further behind her and stared through the screen. She said nothing, her arm tense with restraining Jack in case he said more.

But the stranger spoke. Well, could you please give him this?

He pulled something from his pocket and she stepped further back from the screen, slightly closing the door as she pivoted her weight on it. Then she saw it was money, a note … she leaned towards the gridwork of the screen and made out a ten.

For gas, he said.

Gas?

Jack piped up, Ten dollars, Mum! Can I have another DVD?

Jack! Don’t take any notice of him, she said quickly. You know how kids are.

The man half smiled at Jack, then looked back at Louise. Your husband lent me ten. I asked to borrow five but he gave me ten. I never asked for ten.

Oh, she said. Yes, I remember. Don’t worry, it’s not necessary. My husband wouldn’t want … expect it back. Though she was almost sure of this lanky man, she didn’t want to unlock the screen door.

I have to return it, he said. I wouldn’t want foreigners to think we don’t pay our debts in this country.

Foreigners?

Sorry, ma’am … but I noticed your husband’s accent … and yours. I mean, you’re not from around here.

No, no, we’re not.

What is it?

She refused to get flustered. He’s just curious, she told herself.

Jack chimed in, Australian! We’re Australians, Mister!

Oh, Ohss-stray-lee-ann. We’re allies, he said. I am interested in military history. I’ve never met one before. You’re not that foreign.

No, maybe not.

Well, here’s the ten bucks … I only needed five. Always good to repay an ally – you never know when you might need to call on them again. That’s a joke, ma’am, he said, reaching out with the note to the screen.

She unlocked the screen door and took the note faster than she should, then shut the door, trying to lock it without seeming to appear worried. Jack reached for the bill but she crammed it into her pocket. The man watched her fumbling with the lock.

Okay, ma’am. Thanks again. And don’t forget, we always help an ally in need!

Yes, thanks. We know that. Closing the door, falling slightly back and resting on the glass panes, she looked down at Jack.

Why are you sweating, Mumma?

*

Louise and Jack are in their local Kroger. Jack is thirteen and big for his age. Louise has just picked him up from school. Louise is working for the city council as a legal adviser, and Alan has got tenure. Out in the Kroger parking lot, there is shouting and then a gunshot. People are ducking for cover. They watch a man running out of Java Hut.

Louise and Jack are at the till, staring out through the plate glass. They are the only ones still standing, then suddenly Louise pushes Jack to the ground and drops down herself.

She looks anxiously to Jack and he whispers coolly, in that almost mature voice of his, Mom, that was the man who came to our door.

What?

Didn’t you see? It was the man who brought money when I was a kid.

You mean the five bucks for gas?

It was ten dollars. He gave you a ten-dollar note.

I remember. Keep quiet …

The cashier calls, Sorry, folks, back to work. Got to move on. Hope there are no grazed knees!

Louise lifts their basket and they both load the groceries onto the conveyor belt. Louise pays with her credit card, takes the receipt, lifts a large brown bag of groceries under each arm. Jack prises them off her. Mom, it’s okay, I can manage these.