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Authors: Robert G. Barrett

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BOOK: Davo's Little Something
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But they all agreed it was a pretty hard act to follow so the rest of the afternoon was spent working fairly solidly keeping up the specials, with just the odd burst of giggling. Davo didn't want to go too overboard with Len being away so he kept going, along with Eddie, fairly conscientiously through the rest of the afternoon. Before they knew it smoko was over and they were cleaned up and ready to go home.

‘Well, I s'pose you're looking forward to the concert tonight eh, mate,' said Eddie as they washed their hands in the sink.

‘I sure am,' replied Davo.

‘Half your luck Davo,' said Kathy. ‘I only wish I was going.'

‘Yeah, I reckon she'll be a beauty.' Davo wiped his hands on a paper towel and threw it in the basket. ‘Well I got to get going. I want to have a snooze for an hour or so. I'll tell you all about it when I see you in the morning. See you all tomorrow.'

‘See you, Davo,' they all chorused as he went out the door.

Davo was all smiles and miles away thinking about the concert as he walked down the aisles towards the checkout when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

‘Yeah, what about you, shifty?'

He turned around to see Jimmy Lessing pushing a trolley stacked with packets of pasta behind him.

‘Jimmy. How are you matey?'

‘I'm alright, Davo, but what about you. My sister eh. Just where do you think you're taking her on the weekend?' Jimmy had a smile on his face that started to turn into a grin when he noticed the tinges of embarrassment starting to show on Davo's cheeks.

‘Mate. I only asked her out to a bit of a barbecue to be polite that's all. Why what did she say to you?'

‘She told me she was going out with you this Saturday night. And she was looking forward to it.'

‘She said that did she?' Beauty thought Davo. She's coming for sure. And she's keen.

‘Yeah, well you just have my sister home at a respectable hour, Davo. And no hankypanky. I know what you butchers
are like.' The grin on Jimmy's face increased as did the colour in Davo's cheeks.

‘Ohh turn it up Jimmy.'

Davo did his best to explain to Jimmy the circumstances under which he'd come to ask his sister out. Jimmy was sceptical but pleased all the same: he liked Davo as much as what his sister did. He chided Davo over it a little more then they stood there talking a while longer; mainly about the concert that night.

‘But that's the truth, Jimmy. If I could've taken your sister tonight I would have. But Wayne only invited me.'

‘That's okay,' replied Jimmy with a smile and a wink. ‘I know she's looking forward to the weekend though.'

‘That's good.' Davo paused for a second or two. ‘Anyway mate—I got to get going. I want to have a bit of a snooze before I call round to Wayne's.'

‘Alright, Davo. Have a good time tonight. I'll see you tomorrow.'

‘Okay, Jimmy, I'll tell you about it in the morning. See you, mate.' Davo turned on his heel and walked briskly through the checkout and out of the supermarket.

Well that's alright he thought, as he stopped to get a paper in Oxford Street. Sandra's looking forward to going out on the weekend. Things are getting better all the time. Come on Saturday night.

By the time he got home, had a cup of tea and a quick read of the paper it was almost six when he lay down; it was just on 7.30 when the radio alarm went off. He had a shave and a shower and a quick bite to eat while he ironed a clean pair of jeans. Walking home earlier he'd noticed the wind had dropped off and it wasn't anywhere near as cold as it had been in the morning so he just threw on a denim shirt and the same leather jacket he'd worn the previous night.

Wayne's flat was barely five minutes walk away. The stylish hairdresser was wearing a black suede jacket with enormous quilted shoulders and a big smile on his face when he opened the door.

‘Bob. Come in—how are you?'

‘Good, mate,' replied Davo stepping inside and having a good look around to see if the boys had bought anything new: he was always impressed at their style and taste when he entered their unit. ‘How's David?'

‘Getting better. The doctor told him to stay in bed though. Why don't you go in and say hello while I finish getting ready.'

‘Okay. Don't overdo it though. I don't want to be fighting blokes off you all night.'

Wayne gave Davo a wink and returned to the bathroom. Davo could hear a blow dryer whining as he walked over to David's room.

‘Hello, digger,' he smiled, as he stepped inside. ‘How are you feeling old fellah?'

David looked up across his glasses from the book he was reading and smiled tiredly. Despite looking a lot better than he did a couple of days earlier he was still quite pale and didn't look too healthy.

‘Hello, Bob,' he said, giving a little cough. ‘I'm feeling a lot better than I was thanks. Shit I don't think I could possibly have felt any worse.'

‘You'll be alright in a couple of days.'

‘Yes, I hope so.' He blew his nose delicately into a tissue. ‘It certainly doesn't make me feel any better you going out with Wayne—and at my expense.'

‘What are you talking about you miserable prick. You got the tickets for nothing. Anyway serves you right for not taking your vitamin C.'

‘Not taking my vitamins. God you're joking, Bob.' David waved to a vast array of pills, antibiotics, medicines and vitamin supplements sitting on an expensive antique table next to the bed. ‘Have a look at that,' he said. ‘I've got vitamins coming out of my ears. There's that much iron in my blood I've got to sleep facing the North Pole.'

Davo started to laugh as Wayne appeared in the doorway next to him.

‘Poor David,' he said. ‘We'll try not to have too good a time while you're suffering so much.'

‘Speak for yourself,' grinned Davo. ‘I'm gonna have a ball.'

‘God you're a bastard,' said David.

‘Well, I don't think we're going to have time for a drink,' Wayne looked at his gold Piaget watch. ‘It's almost half past eight.'

Davo shrugged his shoulders. ‘It doesn't matter.'

Wayne walked over and gave David's arm a gentle squeeze telling him he wouldn't be home too late then, after a moment or two, he and Davo both said goodbye.

‘He doesn't look too good,' said Davo, as they walked down to the garage beneath the block of units. ‘What'd the doctor say was wrong with him?'

‘Twenty-four hour flu.'

‘How long's he had it now?'

‘This'll be the fourth day.'

‘That's our David. Tougher than a boarding-house steak. When he dies they'll boil him down and make Bovril out of him.'

The next thing they were in Wayne's metallic blue Alfa Romeo listening to some Talking Heads on the car stereo as they headed towards the Entertainment Centre.

As they drove down Goulburn Street past the old Anthony Hordern building Davo noticed the traffic had begun to increase considerably with most of it heading in the same direction as they were.

‘Reckon you'll find a parking spot?' he asked.

‘Yes, I've got a bit of a sneak going down near Darling Harbour.'

Davo sat back and listened to the stereo as Wayne followed the traffic past Chinatown then turned right as if he was heading towards the Harbour Bridge; above him he could see the expressway heading towards Pyrmont. Wayne made a sharp left turn and pulled into an alley alongside a row of old houses that had been converted into offices and warehouses of some description. A dilapidated sign clinging grimly to the corner of an equally dilapidated building said Barker Street. He drove up another narrow lane past some cars already parked there, finally squeezing in behind a Holden opposite a rusty cyclonewire fence that seemed to run off into nowhere. It was a dimly lit, forbidding looking area when Wayne switched off the motor and the headlights. The streetlight above the car was out and the one a little further down the lane appeared to be on its
last legs and instead of casting a visible light it seemed to just bathe the area lightly with a murky, yellow gloom. There were no other people around.

‘Jesus, this is real Jack the Ripper territory,' said Davo, as he started to open the car door. ‘You reckon your car'll be safe here?'

‘Safe as anywhere else these days—it's fully insured anyway. Come on, we don't want to be late.'

They locked the car and started walking down the narrow, badly lit street which twisted and turned into several other alleys equally as dark and menacing till they picked up the main road and the tatty cyclone-wire fence that ran past the old Darling Harbour goods yard. Despite the traffic swishing past the streets still appeared to be relatively deserted but as they continued on Davo could begin to see people walking towards the Entertainment Centre which suddenly seemed to loom up above them in the distance like a huge concrete flying saucer. More people began to appear now and as they stopped for a set of lights Davo could see the bright red bulk of The Chinatown Garden Restaurant and a little further up the hill the Zorba The Buddha Rajneesh restaurant on the next corner. The sight of all the people walking towards the concert brightened Davo up considerably.

‘Hey, Wayne,' he said, nodding towards the hill. ‘You reckon you like vegetarian cooking now and again. Why don't we slip up to Zorba The Buddha's and have a feed?'

‘Up with the Rajneesh?' replied Wayne. ‘I don't know whether I trust those orange people.' The light was against them but the traffic had stopped so they dashed across the street.

‘Did I tell you,' said Davo as they reached the other side. ‘About all those orange people in Western Australia buying a battleship?'

‘A battleship?' said Wayne curiously. ‘Why on earth would the Rajneesh want a battleship.'

‘I dunno,' grinned Davo. ‘It just said in the paper they wanted to become naval oranges.'

‘Ohh, Davo, for God's sake. What next?'

Before they knew it they were swept up in the crowd thronging outside the Entertainment Centre.

‘If we hurry,' said Wayne, glancing at his watch as they stopped outside The Cosmopolitan Plaza Restaurant, ‘we might have time for a quick cup of coffee. Do you feel like one?'

‘Yeah righto.'

A young couple got up from a seat next to the door just as they walked in so they quickly plonked themselves down and ordered two cappucinos. After the waitress put them on the table Wayne produced a small silver hip-flask full of Napoleon Brandy from inside his bulky suede jacket. ‘Try this,' he said, topping up both their coffees. He topped them up again as they got half way through them and again as they almost got to the bottom of the cup. When they got up to leave there was a distinct glow on their cheeks and not a drop left in the flask.

‘Nothing wrong with that,' said Davo, feeling the warm glow spread through his stomach as they walked into the foyer.

‘It's lovely isn't it?' smiled Wayne. ‘Anyway, here we are. Door 4.' He gave the tickets to the uniformed girl on the door and another one led them down to their seats—six rows from the front.

‘Jesus, nothing wrong with these either,' said Davo, seating himself down amidst and behind some gaudily dressed patrons of both sexes.

‘You'll be able to count the hairs on Carlos's moustache from here,' grinned Wayne.

‘If he splits his pants I'll be able to count the ones on his arse.'

The entire place was packed and above the noise and general hubbub of the huge crowd you could feel the electricity and anticipated excitement in the air. Davo was feeling great as he sat there glowing from the brandy while Wayne waved to some people he seemed to know a few seats behind them. He'd barely got comfortable and was just starting to pick out some faces in the crowd he recognised from TV and the papers when the lights began to dim and after a minute or two the place was almost in complete darkness. Then a deep voice boomed out over the PA system.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen. The Sydney Entertainment Centre proudly presents—arguably the best rock'n' roll band in
Australia today. Ladies and Gentlemen, will you give a big hand to Monnndooo Rrroooockk.'

The announcer had no sooner got the words out when a great roar and cheer went up from the crowd as the stage was suddenly bathed in dozens of spotlights and dancing laser beams and a grinning Ross Wilson, dressed in a bright red suit, slipped straight into Summer of 81. The crowd went wild.

The Mondos roared into Lovers Of The World, The Queen And Me, Come Said The Boy and all their hits off their albums for well over an hour. Even the old classic Eagle Rock got a burst. They were loud and clear and completely professional and it was hard to believe they were just the support band. The giant video screen wasn't working but it made absolutely no difference to Mondo's performance. Finally they stopped, only to come out for an encore of Mondomania and Baby Wants To Rock. Then they all took a bow and trooped off amidst smoke-bombs, lasers and the deafening, foot stomping, whistling, cheering applause.

‘Well—what did you think?' asked a visibly excited Wayne.

‘Sen-bloody-sational,' replied Davo, a little hoarse from cheering his lungs out. ‘Christ if they're the support group—what's Santana gonna be like.'

It only seemed like a couple of minutes and they were to find out. The lights dimmed into darkness again and no sooner had the crowd got themselves comfortable once more when over came the announcement.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen. Will you give a big Australian welcome to the greatest guitar player in the world today. Ladies and Gentlemen, the living legend—Carlos Sannntannnaaa.'

Like the thundering crash of storm waves against a cliff Santana exploded straight into a beefed-up version of Everybody's Everything which almost sent the crowd into a frenzy. This went straight into Dance Sister Dance and in seconds there wasn't a bum left on a seat. Carlos had the crowd with him; he was the star and he and everybody else knew it. Like a matador with a bull he played with their emotions, bringing them down with Oye Como Va and Europa then back up with Spirit and Who Loves You. He made his guitar almost sing and at times it seemed as if he was going to wring the
neck completely off it, while behind him the band did drum solos, conga solos and never lost a beat. Finally, after almost an hour and a half he played an unbelievable version of Gitano and said goodbye. The fans screamed and roared for an encore. The band filed back out and hit them with Let It Shine and Say It Again and that was it. The lights came on and everyone got to their feet and clapped and cheered non-stop for almost five minutes.

BOOK: Davo's Little Something
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