‘They are fucking me over, the swines.'
I was in God’s Country.
High on stimulants and nicotine, Rosie hummed down the line.
‘Hmmmm. ‘
She was listening, but she wasn’t.
I didn’t find it unusual to call her at three in the morning.
She didn’t either.
She had no friends except a sister who was in her death throes, and a younger brother,Frank, who had power attorney over her finances.
‘He’s still close with the bomb makers, ‘I said, ‘just look at the way he changes your locks every week. That’s a skill you learn at Bomb Making Vocational School in Terengganu, a jihadist enclave, only a hop, skip and a detonated bomb away from Southern Thailand’s three disgruntled Muslim States.'
‘Ugg. ‘
Was Rosie aware I was rehearsing a story or just being polite?
She was kinda listening.
‘What’s that noise in the background' she asks, about the first sentence she’s asked over the hour-long call.
‘Happy Tug Hostess, ‘I said. I was fucking her hard at a seedy hotel behind The Big Banana, another Chinese hooker working illegally in Australia, chasing the big bucks.
She came highly recommended by Romeo, the Vanuatu picker who visited her every Friday on pay day.
‘No, no,’ I said to Cindy, Rosie was still hanging on the line, it had to be 1 am on the West Coast. ‘Yes, yes, that’s better.' I really wasn’t into a butt fingering I told Rosie, saying that things had gone so far South, I was now floating on ice drifts with bipolar bears.
Then I emitted a lionary 'Ugg!!!.' Cindy never disappoints.
'Those whores will be the end of you,' says my dotty grandmother, who I have adopted, then she nods off, snoring.
Then a thought screams at me. That swine, her brother, is a perfect likeness to Nordin Mohammed Top, even born the same year. So he did escape from that raid in Solo, Indonesia, and another charred body, most likely Jihad Joe, the village idiot, got ID-ed as Nordin, who really escaped to Australia, via Christmas Island, on a 'pass' as persecuted political refugee from East Timor.
Australians are so stupid, I tell Rosie, who is now humming again, pretending she's interested.
I continue my rant, but I know Rosie isn't listening. For Christ sake, she's a senile bitch.
'Then he infiltrated the Australian Taxation Office, where he worked for over thirty years and has been funding the most virulent and nasty jihadists in the world with funds from Australian taxpayers. And those jihadists didn't come from Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, or Indonesia.'
They came from Malaysia, where you're from, Rosie.
The swines.
Rosie is still snoring.
And Nordin was an accountant too, just like your fucking extremist brother.
That woke her up from her fake sleep.
'Rubbish.'
She's touchy when I criticise her family and wide awake now. Only Rosie has that right.
Then she asks me what day it is and when I'm coming around to visit. She's already forgot this conversation.
I don't have the heart to tell her I am fighting battles with panel beaters, and assessors on the East Coast, all intent on fleecing me of my money and my claim.
