Meet Perkins
Sharon arrived at six o’clock and bundled up his old clothes. She instructed him to put on his sand shoes, but in her haste, she forgot that his pyjamas belonged to the hospital. He felt like he was still in prison uniform.
When they pulled up at the house he was relieved to see the lights weren’t on. Hopefully the wolf was out. Joel thought about it and was unable to distinguish whether his instant dislike of Mal was based on a real gut level instinct or simply the fact that he was annoyed at the fellow for ‘cuck-holding’ his friend. Maybe it was because he didn’t like the guy’s romantic style? All these possibilities mixed him up so that he couldn’t decide where the creepy feeling was coming from, or if it was valid at all.
They were greeted wildly by a small hairy ball which threw itself at Sharon, bursting with glee. Its name was ‘Perkins’ Sharon informed him. At least she likes dogs thought Joel. That was very important if his plan to import her back to Jason’s house was to succeed.
Perkins examined him thoroughly, and despite the weird hospital smells decided he was acceptable. Perkins had a silly tail, short with an excess of hair that fell over one side. He didn’t have a pug nose like most dogs of that ilk, but a pointed one that turned up slightly on the end, topped with a black jube that gave him a snobby look. The black markings around his eyes made him look somewhat bad tempered, but despite that, his disposition seemed fine. Joel wondered if JD would swallow him whole on first meeting, even if he was excessively hairy.
Sharon led them into the house and deposited the boy on a sumptuous couch. The place looked like a manse and he felt he shouldn’t be there. It made him feel even more apprehensive about Mal.
‘You didn’t eat your hospital dinner,’ said Sharon accusingly, ‘I saw it sitting on the side board. Bangers and mash do?’
Joel smiled, Easy! Bangers and mash were his comfort food. When his grandmother was alive, she often made them for him. He knew at the end, she had been afraid to die because she didn’t want him to be on his own. She had always looked out for him.
Finally he managed to say, ‘What will Mal do when he finds me here? He didn’t like you helping me.’
‘He won’t know. He doesn’t get home until late tonight. If you sleep in the room at the back, he won’t know a thing about it. I can take you home in the morning after he’s gone. I don’t have to start work till tomorrow arvo.’
Joel finally relaxed and asked, ‘What does Mal do for a crust?’ Crust! Good heavens if the house was anything to go by, the man must be loaded with doe, let alone a crust! Perhaps Sharon was the material type? No good for Jason if she was, because he wasn’t.
Real estate,’ said Sharon as she rattled around in the kitchen, ‘but he’s got lots of other investments.’
Joel felt crestfallen as he looked around. Jason couldn’t compete with all this. ‘Is Perkins yours’ or his?’
‘Good heavens he’s mine. He’s only allowed in the house when Mal’s not home.
Dictator! thought Joel, though JD wasn’t allowed in Jason’s house either, mainly because he’d clear the shelves with one sweep of his tail.
Sharon fed Joel. She sat down with him and ate bangers and mash. Her manner seemed friendly and down to earth, though she did ask too many questions. She managed to squeeze out of him that he’s been the one to paint "Hot Dags" and Ham buggers on Quiggley Street - mainly because he was proud of those signs. He was uncomfortably aware that people talk and such info could lead back to Jason. It was easy not to talk about his family. She’d picked up enough and kept politely off the subject. Joel knew that if he kept the talk on her, he would be safe. They prattled on about dogs. How long had she had Perkins?
‘I got him for consolation when I left Jason, but Perkins doesn’t like Mal and Mal doesn’t like Perkins.’
Well done Perkins, thought Joel.
Sharon continued, ‘Perkins is a funny mixed breed and Mal wants to get a large pedigree dog, something he can brag about, I reckon.’
‘Do you like Mal?’ The words suddenly tumbled out of Joel’s mouth unbidden. He didn’t mean to say them. He wondered if that smack on the head have anything to do with it.
Sharon looked surprised and didn’t answer for a while. Then she said slowly, ‘I think I like him less the better I get to know him.’
‘Great, thought Joel, and asked ‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘Can’t exactly put my finger on it. He’s very controlling. I feel I haven’t got much freedom, whereas with Jase, I had too much.’ She looked confused for a moment then added, ‘Maybe I’m just a hard woman to please. Mal’s going in for politics and I suppose he requires a fairly special lady for that.’
Politics? thought Joel, suits the creep!
‘He’s got a lot of money, so he can go in for that sort of thing.’ Sharon picked up the dishes, ‘You know what? You’re good to talk to for a kid your age. All I can get out of most them is a grunt or a ‘whatever.’
So far so good, thought Joel. He yearned to make a friend out of her, but time was cut short because she wanted to put him in his room in case Mal came home early. She gave him a towel and a face washer and told him not to flush the toilet. Mal mustn’t hear a peep. You won’t hear even a fart out of me, he thought, but he didn’t say it.
In the over comfortable room, Joel felt trapped. What could he do to thank Sharon, or more especially, to charm her? Then he noticed a note pad and pen on the bedside table. Great, he could draw something for her. He made a few doodles, but nothing seemed right. Then he heard Perkins being evicted out of the front door.
Fantastic! He’d draw the funny little guy. But how could he get him in? He tried the window. Great, it was locked from the inside so he could slide it open. Most locks in his life had to be busted open.
‘Perkins!’ he called in a whisper. The officious little fellow came to investigate and Joel hauled him in.
‘Can’t believe your luck can you little guy?’ The dog arrived all feet and licks, then went off to investigate the room he’d never been in
‘Shhhhh, ‘ hissed Joel, listening out for Mal. Perkins was very interested in something behind the wardrobe. Finally he gave up and settled down for a snooze on the end of the bed giving Joel a chance to put pen to paper. The portrait progressed well, but soon he heard the thrum of an expensive car pulling in. Perkins opened one eye and growled
‘You be good,’ whispered Joel, ‘We’re under cover remember?’
He heard Mal enter the house and slam the door. Perkins made a little growl every time he heard the man’s voice. Joel strained his ears. Mal seemed to be chiding Sharon for something she’d forgotten to do, training the future first lady, he supposed.
Then all hell broke loose. Perkins saw a mouse go behind the wardrobe. He let out a bark, did a back flip off the bed and threw himself at the small gap between the wall and wardrobe.
The resulting crash brought a loud, ‘What the heck!’ from Mal. The hall door opened and Joel could hear heavy footsteps coming his way. In one acrobatic movement, he catapulted the unfortunate Perkins out of the window, and dived under the bed, dragging his bag of clothes with him. He was determined not to get Sharon into trouble. As the bedroom door opened he sighted his battered old sandshoe staring impudently at him from across the floor and his heart sank. Sharon wouldn’t be able to explain that dirty old shoe away as hers. The drawing also lay exposed on the bed. He held his breath as the door opened and Mal strode in with Sharon anxiously close behind.
‘What’s going on he demanded, his eyes straying from the runkled bed cover to the open window. Then they fell on Perkins portrait.
‘Can you explain this?’ He looked meaningfully at Sharon.
‘Yes,’ she said brightly, picking up the note book, slapping it and hastily kicking the sand shoe under the bed at the same time. It connected rather rudely with Joel’s nose. ‘I’ve been drawing Perkins. What do you think of it?’
Joel grabbed his offended nose, desperately trying not to
sneeze.
‘Has he been in the house.’ Sharon looked shocked for a moment.
‘Who? Oh, Perkins, yes but only in this room.’
‘Well he’s not to be any where in the house. Got that, got it?’
‘OK.’ Joel could almost hear Sharon’s teeth gritting.
‘And don’t leave the window open ever again. You don’t know who might be around.’
‘Mal picked up the note pad. ‘It isn’t bad, ‘he conceded. ‘The only flaw is that it is of Perkins. Maybe you could do one of me one day.’
‘Fat chance, pig, thought Joel, cringing as Mal opened the wardrobe.
‘How do you explain all that banging?’ he asked
‘Probably Perkins trying to get in again,’ said Sharon quickly.
The culprit under the window heard his name, and obliged by yowling and jumping up and down like a yo-yo.
Brilliant Perks, thought Joel, you’re a real ally.
Mal seemed to accept that explanation with a shrug and locked the window
‘You better remember, that mutt doesn’t come in my house, he repeated in a rather threatening tone. Then the man stumped out and a very relieved Sharon closed the door behind him.
Bully thought Joel. He decided that Sharon definitely needed to be rescued. Jason could not be worse than that creep!
He strained his ears to hear if she was getting any more of a dressing down and caught the word ‘security.’ He supposed Mal was talking about his house – windows being left open etc, but froze as he crept down the hallway and heard ‘coma wing.’ Mal was using a sweet-talk voice. Why would he want to know who was there? What would it mean to him if anyone was in security? Suddenly, Joel shivered. What if he was grilling Sharon because he really was a bad egg and wanted to finish Mr Port-Robert off because he knew too much about him? If Joel's hospital investigations had been a rain-check on reality, getting into security wouldn’t be hard to do. He felt he had a responsibility to make sure the life he'd been through so much trouble to save, stayed saved. He'd seen the hope and grief of Mr Port-Robert's family.
He was relieved, to hear Sharon’s reply that she didn’t know because it was her first day working there. Good, but he wondered if Mal would work on her again, the next time she worked there. He hated the man's demanding and commanding attitude. It got him right off side. He liked his sweet talk even less.
Suddenly, the door knob turned. Joel flattened himself against the wall. The door flew back against him hitting his already throbbing nose. Joel’s nose was quite small, but misfortune was making it larger by the moment, and more painful. The door swung forward again leaving him in full view and there was nothing he could do about it. Luckily, Mal didn't notice. He was fiddling around inserting a key into a door that proved to be his office. He looked as though something big was on his mind. Wow thought Joel. He sure is weird! He’s so paranoid he locks his office, even with only Sharon in the house, - so to speak. Maybe he does keep some shady secrets in there? He secretly hoped the man was a crook who would get what was coming to him. Even better if it came from Jason!
He could hear Mal making a phone call and jammed his ear up against the lock, but the voice was low and all he could pick up was the word 'mission’ - twice. When he heard the receiver click, he sneaked hastily back to the safety of his room. With Mal's mind-set, if he caught him in the house he would probably end up in jail with Sharon close behind. The thought occurred that maybe he would have been safer at his own home. My God! What did she see in that man other than his money? He must have some sort of hidden charm. If he did, Joel wanted to know exactly how it worked.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Joel found himself instantly on his feet, backed into a corner. Then he realised it was morning and he had slept rather heavily. Sharon was trying to manipulate a breakfast tray through the door.
‘Mal’s gone,’ she laughed as he emerged from the corner, feeling foolish. ‘My, your reflexes are sharp.’ She stopped in astonishment. ‘Goodness, what happened to your nose?’
‘Someone kicked a shoe onto it under the bed.’ He wasn’t about to mention the door as well, for spying would have been unforgivable.
Sharon burst into laughter, ‘Sorry, but I had to get rid of the incriminating evidence. You were smart, and it was a great idea to recruit Perkins. That picture is like – wow!’
‘The little hairy guy was such a great support, he should be called Watson.’ chuckled Joel as he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. His heart was thumping and he still ached in various uncomfortable places.
‘Watson? Mal calls him 'Whatsit.' Get under the blankets,’ Sharon demanded, ‘this is breakfast in bed, a treat for getting us off the hook.’
Joel crawled reluctantly back under the sheets. The only time he had ever had breakfast in bed was in hospital and he wanted to forget that.
‘You transferred water this morning?' she asked in a matter of fact tone.
‘No,’ he said, but didn't tell her that he nearly had when she opened the door so suddenly.
‘Then you’d better drink more,’ she replied bossily as she left the tray and went out.
The breakfast was delicious. Lucky Jason if he’d received this treatment. He had orange juice, toasted muesli, fried egg, tomato, and onion with bacon, topped off with some of Sharon’s home brewed coffee. He’d never been a coffee drinker, but after that, he decided it was worth a review.
She came back before he’d finished and sat on the end of the bed to chat about his portrait of Perkins. The attention embarrassed Joel. He wasn’t used to it. Then she embarrassed him even more by insisting on buying it.
‘I did it for you for free,’ he mumbled, ‘It's a thanks for what you’ve done.’
She leaned forward to hug him, ‘What mother wouldn’t love you?’ As she realised what she’d said she covered her mouth and coughed ‘Better get yourself ready to go, then I’ll whiz around the room and erase any evidence.’ The delight that lit up in Sharon seemed to be at having defied Mal. The question remained in Joel’s mind, was he just a creep or a real nasty pastie? He resolved to investigate him more thoroughly. Maybe Sharon needed protection? She was gorgeous. She'd made him feel safe and cared for despite their tenuous situation. She had risked for him. No wonder Jason had trouble getting over her. She was pretty darned special.