TWENTY

GOING HOME

‘The sooner we do it, the sooner you’re on yer way home. Just remember that it’s a cinch.’ Bodgie said as he walked along the street sizing up cars.

‘You know how to make one of these start without a key?’Chinkee asked him.

‘Sure do, work in a garage, don’t I,’’ he replied, ‘Holdens are easy, even if the doors are locked. No mucking about with a coat hanger or bent piece of wire, you just get on the back, I on the front and you on the back. We bounce up and down and the doors spring open. As for starting the engine, a two bob bit or a strip of silver paper across the ignition wires will get it turning over.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Chinee said, ‘you’re a pro, ain’t you Bodgie?’

‘Sure am now, just seventeen and got my kicks tonight, huh?’

‘Yeah fine, nothing will go wrong. Will it?’

‘Nothing can. Mum lives in this dump. Smelly isn’t it?’

Mum had cooked up an enormous amount of grub and they got stuck into it. They hardly said a word until they had finished. They sat back over steaming cups of tea then Bodgie said: ‘Time, let’s get the show on the road.’

‘Tonight?’

‘Yeah, midnight, we’ll be back by morning.’

Bodgie’s Mum looked from Chinkee to her son, then back again and said, ‘You boys, take it easy-peasy. Sleep, stretch out on the floor. Tomorrow is another day light. Night time is dark, hard to see yer way, you know.’

‘Mum,’ Bodgie said, ‘we’re just going out to a dance hall. It stays open to two, only place in town to do so. Time for your bed now. We don’t want to keep you up all night.’

‘Be good, sonny, don’t let your mother get down in the dumps again.’

‘I won’t, I won’t, but we gotta go.’

Bodgie’s load lightened when he left that dismal room. Tomorrow, he must find a nicer place for her before he left for the East.’

They moved up to Murray Street and went along looking for a suitable car. They came to a Salvation Citadel and there was a Holden parked a bit down from it. Feeling lucky, Bodgie tried the door and it swung open. The street was deserted. He got into the vehicle. Chinkee came after him. He got the engine started and they were on their way

After an hour the town of York came up and Bodgie turned onto the Narrogin Road that would take them to Shiloh. The darkness tensed about them and closed about their headlamps. The motor throbbed and rattled as if it needed the differential seen to, but beyond it was a silence that was not marred by any manmade sound. They passed neither vehicle nor man. At intervals and usually away from the road lights showed, but that was all. They seemed to be passing through a land in which everything and everyone had died. Chinkee began getting the willies and wanted to get back to the city lights, but Bodgie clung to the steering wheel determined to reach his goal.

The Shiloh turnoff was marked with a sign. Bodgie slowed and went down it. The town was silent and abstract in the night. Few lights showed. Their head lamps reached out the whole length of the main street. They went down it and turned off at Forrest Street. His Mum had been right. Where her house had been was a heap of bricks though the front gate now rusting away still hung on its hinges half open. He parked the Holden under the tree that he remembered from his childhood. They sat there letting their eyes get used to the darkness. It was then that the moon came out to give them enough light to show them the way. Bodgie looked in the glove box and his luck held. There was a torch there.

‘Well, let’s go and get at that safe. We go through that yard there to reach the back of the store.’

They got out and Chinkee slammed his door. The sound resounded and he said: ‘It sure is quiet.’

‘Yeah,’ he replied, ‘everyone is asleep except for us cats on the prowl.’

The yard was still filled with petrol and oil drums. The gates were loose and held in the middle by a big padlock. The lads jumped over them. Bodgie flicked on the torch. He directed it towards the building, keeping it low so that the beam would not betray them. They reached the back of the store. Bodgie saw that there had been some changes. The window he was aiming to force was now enclosed in sort of cage of mesh wiring. The door to this was padlocked, but he pushed the screwdriver he had remembered to bring between door and hasp. He jerked. The screws came out. The whole thing fell with a clang onto a rusted ploughshare. It was then that Chinkee put a hand on his arm. He was about to shake it off angrily, when he glanced up and saw the beam of a torch crossing the front store windows. It turned and passed over the Forrest Street office window. Someone, the town cop of course, was coming to check their car. The damn head lamps had given them away.

Bodgie wanted to stay there, but Chinkee anxious to keep his transport out of the town was already moving towards the gates. The idiot stumbled against a drum. Bodgie watched. The torch was at the car, examining the inside. It turned and caught Chinkee astride one of the gates.

‘Hey, stay there and identify yourself,’ a gruff voice commanded.

Chinkee leaped off the gate. He made it to the car and into the waiting arms of whoever it was, surely the town cop. Yes, Bodgie heard the clink of handcuffs as he made it over the fence. He ran off away from the town dashing silently past the police station on his brothel creepers. A window was lit up.