I stuffed it down the front of my shorts and walked out. My fallback, if challenged, was that I was excited! Money was tight, we were hungry and the cheese wedge fitted quickly and easily into my jocks! The girls were less enthusiastic about the Blue as I extracted it. Ashley was in a funk until Florence pointed out that it was still in its wrapper!
Florence unloaded two small avocadoes from her bra. Ash had scored tobacco, papers and two rolls of dunny paper. On the way to the beach, I went into a bakery and bought a sliced loaf. We were set for a feast tonight!
But that night, I lay on the sand thinking about my larceny. Was this to be my lot? A lifetime of crime, a gorgonzola tonight, chops and pasta a few nights earlier, petty heists from suburban supermarkets, as the opportunities presented? There was a family anecdote featuring a distant pheasant-stealing relative, transported to Sydney Cove. I had also heard tell that my grandpa had done time in a reformatory, as a young bloke. Was this nature, or nurture – a predisposition, a genetic imprint?
We still had three days to eke out an existence before Centrelink kicked in again. Squashed avo and cheese sandwiches were not going to cut the mustard! Two nights ago, the cops had moved us on. We knew it would happen again.
Just four months since our landlord had perfunctorily upped the rent, we were on the street within weeks, sharing the luxury of my station wagon, an awning, a gas cooker, pans, cutlery, a water can, an esky and a spade. Welcome to our world!
Ash lost her shifts at Maccas – they said she smelled. Flo and I had both been laid off while we still had the flat.
We got to know which beach toilet facilities included showers, their opening and closing times. We sensed the daytime odium from other beachgoers – but they would piss off, as the weather cooled.
I was realising that I didn’t mind the stealing. The system had screwed us, we were taking a little in return. We each got to know our capacities, adapting circumstances to suit our needs. I got large-pocketed shorts from St Vinnies: 350gram tins fitted seamlessly, noodles in my shirt front, I repeated the cheese secretion regularly.
Florence found a hundred buck note in the street. We were almost in ecstasy with a splurge on a few beers and a cold bottle of cheap bubbles. A bloke outside the pub gave us half a deal of weed with the change, and we spent the evening plotting to overthrow the system.
Covid arrived and our status shifted down a gear. Late autumn rains added an extra layer of shit. It got worse with both Ash and Flo getting the bloody Omicron. I got them to the hospital but both were put on ventilators, a high price for the roof over their heads.
The beachside existence got lonely without them!