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“How will you replace them? Do you have a job?”
He dropped the hoodie beside her and went back into the cave and started picking up the loose pages. “I do odd jobs for enough money to buy what I need.”
“And you have your welfare payment.”
“I don’t claim welfare.”
He heard the rustle of the sleeping bag. “Why not?”
He stood straight, a pile of paper in his hands, his back to her. “Because I’m perfectly capable of earning a living.”
She sighed. “So why do you live here?”
“Why don’t you go back into your neat little world where things behave the way you want them to?”
Her white teeth flashed. “Nice try.”
He went back to cleaning up. If he stopped engaging with her she might get bored and leave.
“It is really beautiful here at night. So different to the day. The stars are so, so, there, just hanging there as if you could pluck them up and put them in your pocket, and it’s so quiet, no traffic noises.”
Next thing she’d be trying to tell him she understood why he lived here. It was all persuasion with her, the coffee, the breakfasts, the oranges. But worse, worse was the conversation, the sense of her mind turning over, trying to understand. That’s what he hated most of all.
“Don’t bring things to me. I don’t want your gifts, your bribery.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
What, that was it? No argument? “I’ll return anything you bring me. I don’t want your help.”
“Okay. I get it. I took the oranges to Cooper Park like you suggested today.”
He shook his head and stuffed the loose pages under one of the metal legs of the outdoor setting, he folded up the torn tarp and weighted it down as well. And then there was nothing left to do.
“Foley, go home.” She had his hoodie on. It hung off her shoulders and over her hands.
She rolled back the sleeves. “We need to talk, Drum.”
No, that’s not what he needed. More of her words, more of her world poured in his ear. He’d given that away and she made him remember too much, phone apps and coffee shop coffee, women with shiny hair and glossy ways. He stood behind her so he wasn’t tempted to look at her face. It was 2am, this was ridiculous.
“There’s going to be a big event. The world’s biggest outdoor sculpture exhibition. There’ll be sculpture placed all along the coastal walkway and in Marks Park above us here. More than a hundred different works. Thousands of people are going to be walking all around here for two weeks. Families, little kids, tourists. Lots of media and cameras. It’s too risky for you to be here when that’s happening.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“With so many extra people around, it will be hard for you to come and go without being seen. And the more people who see you, the more
at risk you are of being attacked or having your stuff stolen or smashed again.”
“I don’t care about that. I can protect myself.”
“But you can’t protect other people.”
He’d tried, he’d tried his hardest once he’d understood the damage he’d done, but it was true, he couldn’t protect people. He only pretended he could, like with the family on the beach, like with Jonesy, Robbo and the kid.
“What if someone came down here and fell, Drum? What if it was kids? I know you wouldn’t like that.”
All he could do was hurt people. “I’ll go.”
She stood up so quickly he staggered back. Her hand came out and wrapped around his forearm. “Thank you.”
