The Knife Sharpener (19)

19.

‘Loo, you stuffed it up, mate. We had it totally golden. Oscar was looking after us with, like, some proper work. Easy, too. We pissed it up and kept an eye out. Perfect employment,’ said Jenkins.

‘Don’t need to be tellin me bout how good the gig was, Jenkies,’ said Liu.

‘Mate, we was basically members of the working class. Like that song. About that man, who is in the working class.’

‘Security work. Doesn’t get much more workin class than that, ay? Big step, ay?’

‘But you had to go get bung up by a girl, Loo. Left me all vulnerable when she come at me with me bottle. Ya know I’m not a fighter, Loo. I’m a drinking man. A loving man.’

‘I know, Jenkies. Regular John Holmes, mate. Less dick, though, ay?’

‘Yeah, nah, mate. Bout the same.’

‘Sure.’

‘Get the tape measure, Loo. I’ll show yis,’ said Jenkins, spreading his hands apart. ‘Anyways, ya just needed to put up the dukes, Loo. Given her a taste of ya narrow-eyed danger look. Ya done kung fu before, yeah? Raised on that martial arts shit.’

‘There ya go again, Jenkies. I ain’t that kind of Asian. I’ve been tellin ya for a while now. I never got the chance to practice the secret arts. Me dad didn’t think I was worthy. Never even mentioned the possibility. Why you think I’m out here, ay?’

‘Yeah, yeah. Thought you might’ve, like, picked some up, just from bein round it, ya know? Watchin them films from Hong Kong and shit.’

‘Maybe, a bit. Always been pretty good on me toes. Got some hard hands, too, ay.’

‘See. If you was ready, Loo, like all set up and shit, ya would’ve stopped her in her tracks and she wouldn’t have gotten away with our boss’s stuff.’

            ‘Jenkies, I don’t know if it would’ve gone down like that, ay. Shit was, like, completely chaotic. That little girl – she could swing. Seein stars kinda shit when she connected. Lucky I gotta hard head, mate. Too many times bein caught up by that fuckin nutter, Klaus, down in Balaclava.’

‘Fuckin, that guy scares me.’

‘Anyway, Jenkies, you could’ve ducked and dodged when she rushed ya. You was as still as a statue, mate. Like when you pretend to be struck down by paralysis when out beggin on Greville,’ said Liu.

            ‘She was quick, Loo. No getting out the way after a few bevvies, I tell ya.’

            ‘Same here, Jenkies. Same here. We was buggered from the start. Ain’t our fault. That Church basically paid us to bend our wrists, ay.’

            ‘Too right, mate.’

            ‘More I think on it, Jenkies, more I realise the whole thing was rigged gainst us from the start, ay.’

            ‘Set up to fail, Loo.’

            ‘Fuckin, we should go give Oz a piece of our mind. Demand our job back, ay.’

            ‘Set up, like, our own union.’

            ‘Yeah, yeah. Make some proper demands, get good workin conditions. Smoko breaks and shit. Paid holidays. Like nine to five, ay.’

            ‘They let us drink on the job, Loo. Don’t know what they was expecting,’ said Jenkins. ‘If shit was so serious, they should’ve been like: “Loo. Jenkies. Youse two need to be, like, comporting yisselves a little more properly on the job. Like, we got some valuable shit in here and we totally re-lize on youse two to be security. So, ease up on the drink, yeah? Maintain some, like, decorumness about your behaviour.” And, know what, Loo? I would’ve listened. We ain’t no dummies.’

            ‘Nah, we ain’t, ay.’

            ‘We can take some hard talk, mate.’

            ‘Sure. We ain’t crying little kiddies. We could’ve taken it, ay. We was serious bout our role there.’

            ‘Like, we’re agreein, then? We go back and give Oz some of our opinion?’ said Jenkins.

            ‘Yep. Demand our jobs back,’ said Liu. ‘With, like, benefits and shit, ay.’

            ‘Yeah.’

            ‘And a fuckin pay rise.’

            ‘Shit hot, Loo.’

            ‘Fuckin think of the piss we could get with a few more bucks, ay?’

            ‘Tailors, too, Loo. Hot shot Winnie Blues. Fresh. Not half smoked buttes from the pavement. Or, like, given to us by some Prahran hipster trash.’

            ‘Let’s get on it, Jenkies,’ said Liu.

            ‘Too right, mate,’ said Jenkins.

            The two tracksuit attired men turned sloppily on their heels and made their way back up Chapel. They were puffing on some rollies they had bummed off a couple of teenagers at a burger place near High St. People mostly gave them a wide berth. Restaurateurs and pub workers eyed them carefully. They marched with a loose kneed purpose. All swinging elbows and chest forward.

            ‘Where you two headin all fuckin puffy?’ asked Jeff, an occasional collaborator of theirs, from the doorway of an abandoned pet store. He was wearing moccasins and a full purple velure jumpsuit. His hair tied back with an electrical cord. There was a slurpy in his hands which had the distinct oily cereal smell of cheap bourbon.

            ‘To get our jobs back, ay,’ said Liu.

            ‘Yeah?’ said Jeff. ‘That cushy gig watchin that building?’

            ‘Yep,’ said Jenkins.

            ‘Good on ya, fellas.’

            ‘We’re gonna make some demands. Like unionize and shit,’ said Jenkins.

            ‘Some representation?’ asked Jeff. ‘That’s me dream. Bit of a voice.’

            ‘That’s right,’ said Liu. ‘We just want what’s fair and shit, ay. What they give, like, other working-class men.’

            ‘You know the song?’ asked Jenkins.

            ‘Sure,’ said Jeff. ‘Go get em, lads. Do us proud.’

            Jenkins and Liu made to depart. Setting up be dominating and large. Champing down on their rollies like they were cigars.

            ‘Right, guys. Wait. Almost forgot,’ said Jeff. ‘There’s some fellow in chef’s pants wanderin round up near that building youse was watching lookin for youse two.’

            ‘Chef’s pants?’ asked Liu. ‘Like a chef, ay?’

            ‘Yeah,’ said Jeff. ‘Thinks he wants some gossip on your previous employment.’

            ‘Now, we can’t go, like, givin up Oz and his friends,’ said Jenkins. ‘Goes gainst the, like, security guard code or something.’

            ‘Wouldn’t be a good look,’ said Liu.

            ‘I think he had a bottle or two for a bit of info. Looked like some good stuff too. Rum, maybe.’

            ‘What kind?’

            ‘Spiced, I think. Could’ve been Bacardi –’

            ‘Nah, what kinda info?’

            ‘Something about a bit of ruckus, earlier tonight. Something was stolen. He was trying to find out what exactly,’ said Jeff. ‘He was a tough lookin dude, but. Klaus was trying to weasel in. Telling fibs. Chef-man told him to fuck off.’

            ‘Did he?’ they both asked.

            ‘Quick as the snake he is.’

            ‘Fuckin good,’ said Jenkins.

            ‘He’s still looking for youse two, though,’ said Jeff. ‘Seems to know a bit. Knew you was hired to watch the place.’

            Jenkins and Liu looked to one another. They were a bit low on funds, after all. Oscar hadn’t paid them for their earlier evening’s work.

            ‘We can always –’

            ‘Like, get our jobs back –’

            ‘Tomorrow.’

‘The union can wait, ay.’

‘Let Oz sweat on it. Make him realise, like, how much he needs us.’

‘Won’t last a night before he comes looking for us, ay. MVP employees, Jenkies.’

            ‘Fair go, fellas,’ said Jeff.

            ‘Where’d you see this chef fella, Jeff?’ asked Jenkins.