The Gospel According to Luke (12 page)

Honey took a few deep breaths to clear the light-headedness, then grabbed the broom and bucket and carried them back out to the storage room. When she returned to the office, Aggie was on the phone again.

‘I'm telling you,' she said, her voice high and screechy, ‘it isn't anything to do with Luke. No, I'm sure. Yes, I know it – Malcolm – no, Malcolm, it isn't him . . . yes, okay, okay, Jesus Christ! Okay! No, don't do that, Mal, please. I will talk to him, but I am telling you it isn't – Shit!' Aggie slammed the phone down and kicked the wall.

She turned to Honey and smiled as though nothing had happened. ‘Thanks for your help with the glass. You don't need to hang around here. You didn't see anything anyway so the police won't need to –'

‘Aggie!' A man was running across the road, toward them. ‘Oh, Aggie!'

Aggie opened the front door just as he arrived at it. The man threw his arms around her and rubbed her heaving back. ‘Oh, Aggie, oh hey, hey, Aggie, shush. You're okay, aren't you? You're okay. It's just glass. Easily replaced. You're fine.'

Aggie lifted her head from the man's shoulder and
looked into his face. ‘I thought all this stuff was over with. I thought we were going to be left in peace.'

The man held Aggie by the shoulders and stepped back from her. Honey got a good look at his face for the first time. He was dark, but cute.

‘You can't expect that, Aggie. It's never going to happen.'

‘What?' Aggie pulled away from him, taking three fast steps backward. ‘What the fuck does that mean?'

Honey could tell that something really intense was going on between the two of them and they seemed to be completely unaware that she was there witnessing it all. She looked at the empty window frame, wondering if she could just sort of step out without Aggie and the man noticing. She started edging toward it, and then everything went black.

Honey was lying on her back, in the dark. Someone was squeezing her left wrist. There was a hand on her forehead. A man said, ‘If she doesn't wake up in ten seconds, I'm calling an ambulance.' A woman said, ‘Oh, hell.' Honey opened her eyes and was rewarded with a smile from the cute guy. ‘Ah, there you are, sweetheart. You had us worried for a minute.'

Aggie was on her knees beside the man. ‘How's your head?'

‘Fine. How long was I –'

‘Barely two minutes,' said Aggie, ‘but it felt much longer.' She stroked Honey's forehead. ‘Stay here with
Luke for a minute, okay? I have to go talk to the police and I'll be right back.'

‘I'm fine. Sorry to be so much trouble.'

‘This is not your fault at all. Just relax.' Aggie's voice wavered as she turned to the man and said, ‘Yell if you need me?' He nodded, placing his palm against Aggie's cheek and mouthing something that Honey could not make out. Then Aggie was up and gone and the man was holding Honey's hand again.

‘I'd like to get up. Maybe go outside.'

‘Slow, okay?' He leant over her, taking hold of her shoulders and helping her to a sitting position. His hair smelt like peaches, which would normally be nice since she was used to men who smelt like cigarettes and sweat and grease, but in her present condition it made her want to puke. Fortunately he stood up before the scent overpowered her. ‘You okay?' he asked, and when she said yes he took hold of her from behind, his arms around her chest, and pulled her to her feet. Then, holding her by the elbow, he led her out onto the street.

Outside, she pulled a slightly squashed cigarette packet from her backpack and lit up before offering one to the man, who shook his head with exaggerated force.

‘You're anti-smoking, huh?'

‘Yes, I am.'

‘Me too. I'm quitting.'

‘I can see that.'

‘Yeah, well . . .' She shrugged. ‘After today, I'm quitting.'

‘Good for you. What's so special about today?'

Honey laughed, which hurt her head and throat. ‘Nothing at all.'

‘I'm missing something.'

‘Yeah.'

He squinted at her. ‘Something to do with why you're here?'

Honey shrugged.

‘Something to do with why you're here and also to do with why you fainted?'

She shrugged again. ‘So do you work here?' she asked, stubbing out the cigarette before it was even half gone.

He laughed then. ‘I work across the street.'

Honey looked across the street and finally got the joke. The entire block was taken up by the Northwestern Christian Youth Centre. ‘I have to go,' she said.

‘Why?' Luke smiled and touched her arm.

‘I have an appointment.'

‘But I promised Aggie I'd watch over you until she got back. She's had enough drama today without me making it worse by losing you.'

‘Did you smash the window?' Honey asked.

‘No! Why would you think that?'

‘Just something I overheard. Aggie was sticking up for you.'

He smiled and let out a little sigh. ‘Ah.'

‘Are you and her –'

‘Friends.'

‘Friends?'

‘Close friends. Despite our differences.'

‘You've got a hide showing your face around here!' A fat man with a red face charged towards them from the car park.

‘Here's trouble,' Luke said. ‘Hello, Malcolm, how are you this morning?'

The man stopped in front of Luke, glanced at Honey and then stuck his finger into Luke's chest. ‘You have exactly thirty seconds to fuck off. Starting now. Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight –'

‘I'm afraid I can't leave yet. Aggie has left this young lady in my charge until the police have finished inside. It would be irresponsible of me to just walk away.'

The man looked at Honey. ‘And you are?'

‘She's one of your clients, Malcolm, so be nice.'

‘Oh,' Malcolm said, his voice dropping to a conversational level. ‘Sorry you got caught up in all this. If I ever get my hands on the bastards who did this –' He looked menacingly at Luke, ‘– God help me, I'll kill them.'

‘I don't know that God would actually help you if you –'

‘That's it. Get the fuck out of here now!' Malcolm grabbed Luke by the front of his shirt, lifted him half a foot off the ground and then dropped him. Luke staggered backwards, straightened, held up both hands in a
gesture of surrender and then turned to Honey. ‘Come on, we'll wait across the street.'

‘Oh, no you won't.' Malcolm grabbed Honey's arm. ‘She'll remain here, thank you very much.'

Honey shook off his hand and was immediately yanked to the side by Luke, who put a possessive arm over her shoulder, pulling her tightly against him. The two men eyed each other off.

Honey started to say that she just wanted to leave, but then out of the corner of her eye she spotted the same van that had circled her in the car park earlier.

‘That van was here this morning,' she said. ‘I think they took a picture of me.'

Luke and Malcolm turned toward the van as a middle-aged woman in a beige linen sundress climbed out. She smiled as she approached them and thrust a piece of yellow paper into Honey's hand. ‘Smile, dear, you're a star.'

Honey stared down at a photo of herself, taken less than two hours ago at this very spot. Above the photo, in a gothic
-
dripping-blood font, was printed
Baby Killer!!!
Under the photo it said:
Parents and Citizens beware! This child killing child was spotted entering the Holocaust Headquarters in Koloona Street wearing a Parramatta Heights Senior School uniform!!!!! Does she share a class with YOUR child!!!!

Luke was saying something to the woman. Honey couldn't understand a single word. She was vaguely aware that only Luke's vice-like grip was keeping her
standing. Malcolm had disappeared. Honey stared at the crappy, grainy close-up of her face. You could see the pimple she had tried so hard to cover, but because of the poor-quality print it looked like a black spot in the centre of her forehead. She looked like a Hindu. A blonde, pale-skinned, school-uniform-wearing Hindu.

Her head began to clear and she was able to make out a few words of the conversation. She heard Luke saying ‘compassion' and ‘non-confrontational' and the woman saying something about Luke being blind and greatly deceived. ‘Slaughter of the innocents' came up, as did ‘infanticide' and ‘legalised murder'. Honey knew these phrases were directed at her, but she had no real reaction. Not until she heard the woman telling Luke that the photos were a legitimate means of lifting the veil of secrecy that had so far protected people like
her
.

‘Like me?' Honey said, looking the woman in the eye. ‘There's a veil protecting me? Really?'

‘Honey, you don't have to –'

‘Not anymore there's not.' The woman said, smiling. ‘My camera is my weapon and I will use it to expose you and your type.'

Honey felt Luke's grip on her arm tighten, his hipbone stabbing her in the side she was held so close. ‘Aren't you a bit late?' she said, loud and fast. ‘For exposing me, I mean?'

The woman frowned and took a step back. Honey tried to move towards her, but was held fast by Luke. ‘Where were you ten years ago when my step-daddy
was fucking me every day after kindergarten? Huh? Huh? Where was your fucking camera when my current father figure was stealing all my shit to sell for drug money and then shooting up his fucking crap in my bedroom? Where was your fucking camera then, you stupid bitch?'

Everything went black, but she hadn't fainted because she could hear perfectly well. She could hear Luke telling her she was okay and the woman screaming that she didn't have to listen to that kind of filth. She heard the argument that ensued when Malcolm, Aggie and Luke insisted that the policeman charge the woman and the woman and policeman insisted that no law had been broken. And she heard the sound of her own sobbing – a raw, ugly soggy noise that seemed as though it could never be stopped.

Luke took Honey across the road and asked Belinda to sit with her in the rec room while he waited in his office for Aggie. He waited impatiently, pacing and biting his nails, unsure what he would say to her when she arrived, but certain that having her close again would soothe him.

He wondered if the girl was God's reminder that Aggie was, after all, a woman who contributed to the murder of babies for profit. A woman who exploited lost children, manipulated them into paying to have their bodies ripped open, their wombs robbed.
But Lord
, he prayed to the oak outside his window,
Lord, she is a lost child herself. Should I feel compassion or
disgust? Do I condemn her or embrace her? And if what you want, my Lord, is for me to lead her to you, why, oh why, oh why, must I be tormented with such passion? Don't you know I am your faithful servant and would do anything you ask of me? Must you test me so? Please, Lord, I beg you, take away the desire that clouds my judgement. Please, Lord, help me to know what is right.

‘Luke?'

He turned and sighed. Aggie looked dishevelled, red-eyed, pale. She sank into the chair behind his desk. Without a word, he sat across from her.

‘Where's the girl?' she said

‘With Belinda. Are her parents coming?'

‘No.'

‘Did you call them?'

‘That would be a breach of confidentiality.' Her voice was husky, her eyes puffy. Her hair was sticking up all over her head.

‘She's a child.'

‘She's sixteen and she's not your concern.'

‘Aggie, a troubled girl
is
my concern. Her defenceless baby is my concern.'

Aggie closed her eyes. ‘Luke, please don't be difficult. I've had a really bad day.'

‘I'm very sorry you've had a bad day, Aggie, but I'm not going to hand a girl over to you so you can assist in the murder of her child. We can talk this through and work out –'

‘I didn't come here for a discussion. I told my client I would drive her home, and I intend to do so. If you interfere, I will call the police and then I will call a lawyer.'

‘Aggie, please –'

‘No. Go tell my client I am here.'

Luke stood and looked out the window. The oak had no answers for him. He looked, instead, to the sandy brick wall of his apartment. If he leant out his office window, he could touch the wall with his fingertips, and sometimes when he was working late at night, he'd imagine crawling through the window, rather than making the long, cold trek around the block to the door of his little home. Today, he looked through his bedroom window and saw the room as Aggie would see it: bare, grim, cold. He thought of her home with its burgundies and golds, its rich velvet curtains, and deep shagpile carpets.

‘Fine. I'll find her myself. Thanks for nothing.'

‘Wait!' Luke turned from the window. ‘Don't be angry. It's too much, really. Your passion and fortitude in the face of . . . I find you distracting at the best of times, but when you're all . . . I can't keep track of anything. I just don't . . .'

‘Fuck.' Aggie put her head in her hands. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' she said into her hands, and then looking up with red-rimmed eyes, she said it again, with extra emphasis.

‘Stop saying that.' Luke sat on the floor, the wall supporting his jelly-like spine.

‘Fuck you.'

‘No, Aggie, fuck you.'

She gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. ‘Did you just say
fuck you
?'

‘I'm sorry.'

She started to giggle and he looked up at her sharply. She came and sat beside him. The series of movements that resulted in her head being on his shoulder, his arm around her back, her hand on his knee, happened without him consciously deciding that they would.

‘God, Luke, why the hell can't I accept the impossibility of this?'