The Day of the Gecko (14 page)

‘Why don't you take your five dollars and shove it up your arse,' snarled Pieface. He jabbed a thumb in his own chest. ‘And I'll fight anybody.'

‘Yes, you probably would,' said The Gecko, putting
the five dollars back with the other money. ‘No doubt you're one hard man.'

Very casually, The Gecko rose from his stool and, in about the same movement, slammed his left knee in the builder's groin. Pieface's eyes stuck out like two button-squashes as the pain and shock hit him. Just as quickly, The Gecko banged the palm of his left hand up under the builder's chin; nothing very fancy, but it almost broke his neck. His head barely had time to snap back, when the major grabbed him by the front of his jeans, brought him forward and at the same time smashed the top of his skull into the builder's face. His nose crumpled, blood bubbled down into his moustache and that was the end of him. The major twisted Pieface around, kicked his legs away with a foot sweep and the builder crashed onto a table, then the floor, out like a light. Which, apart from the screams of a few girls and the startled looks of the nearby patrons, should have been the end of it.

But no. Pieface's mates came running up from the end of the bar, the same time as Jee came running in from the front door. The leading yobbo grabbed the stool Major Lewis had been sitting on and, dying for a sneak chance to belt the black doorman all night, he swung it into Jee's face, stopping him dead. Jee went down on one knee and the yobbo crashed the stool across his neck. Going well, the yobbo went to bring the stool down on The Gecko's head. The major moved in slightly, blocked the stool with his left hand and drove his fingers up under the yobbo's floating rib like a knife. The builder just had time to screw his eyes up and give a gasp of pain, when The Gecko brought his
right arm up and hammer-fisted the yobbo across the bridge of his nose, smashing it like Pieface's, then kneed him in the back as he went down. The stool hit the floor, and the other patrons leapt up, heading for the exit signs, figuring there was quite a problem arising now, and tripping over Jee and Pieface in the process.

This left three drunken yobbos still keen for a bit of aggro. The first one, a big, heavy-set dill wearing the BLF T-shirt, jumped on The Gecko's back and they both crashed to the floor. It all happened pretty quickly and Les was happy sitting there, watching the major in action. Now he decided he'd better do something; at least break the fight up, if nothing else. Les would have, only just as he rose from his seat, he spotted the yobbo to his right go to king-hit him. Les tucked his chin in and brought his shoulder up and the big left haymaker bounced off the top of Norton's thick, red Queensland skull. Oh well, thought Norton, looks like I'm in this now, whether I want to be or not. He bent at the knee and slammed three quick left hooks into the yobbo's face. The first two mangled his lips to pulp and knocked out several teeth, the third one just sent a spray of blood all over the wall and the nearest Aztec mural. That was enough. But Les decided to finish him with a short right that swung his jaw round to the other side of his face. He hit the deck cold just as the last yobbo threw a flurry of lefts and rights at Norton. A couple landed, but Les blocked most of them with his left and drove a straight right into the yobbo's face, squashing his nose all over it. He shut his eyes just as Les bent at the knee again and threw a sizzling left uppercut that caught him right on the point of the chin,
almost driving his jaw up into his skull. He headed for the deck, also, and just before he did Les grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and banged his head against the bar, putting a split in his scalp about a foot long. With them out of the road, Les turned to see how the major was doing.

The Gecko was on his back with the huge builder over the top of him pinning him down; there was very little movement. Les was about to kick the yobbo in the head when The Gecko spun round from underneath the builder and finished up on top of him. He had both sides of the yobbo's T-shirt collar in his powerful hands and had ripped them across his throat, effectively choking him out. It was nothing fancy again, just close-quarters combat, but the yob's eyes had glazed over, his breathing had stopped and he was about five seconds away from dying. Instead of kicking the yobbo in the head, Les tapped The Gecko on the shoulder.

‘Excuse me, Major, but is he really worth killing? And we wouldn't want to jeopardise the mission now, would we?'

The Gecko's head swivelled round to Norton and he looked up with that smiling, unsmiling lizard look on his face. ‘Yes, you're right, Les,' he agreed. ‘Good lad.' Major Lewis let go of the yob's throat. He sucked in a horrible, rattling gasp of air as his head hit the floor and he went to sleep.

Jee was on his feet now, a little battered and a little bruised, but not bleeding, so Les thought it might be as good a time as any to get out of the place. The bar staff and the manager saw what happened. They could clean the mess up and Norton was definitely a much preferred
customer to the five dummies snoring and bleeding on the floor.

‘Are you okay, Jee?' Les asked the big American.

‘Yeah, I think so.' Jee blinked his eyes, moved his neck and looked at the yobbos lying amongst the upturned chairs and tables on the floor. ‘Shit! What happened here?'

Norton patted him on the shoulder. ‘If anybody asks, Jee,
you
did it.' Les nodded to the door. ‘There's a dump-bin in front of that building site. Throw them in there till they sober up.' He turned to The Gecko. ‘Come on, Major. We'd better get going, I think.'

The major nodded. ‘Good idea, lad. Good idea.'

They threaded their way through what startled patrons were left and headed for the door. As he got to the footpath, Norton realised he'd left a fairly hefty tip on the bar. Oh well, he shrugged, it was only Price's money anyway. He and The Gecko got into double time along Campbell Parade, swung a hard left back into Hall Street and were crossing Consett Avenue almost level with the Post Office when the major spoke.

‘I thought you said that was a quiet bar, Les? With good clientele.'

‘Normally it is,' replied Norton. ‘I don't know how those mugs got in there.'

The Gecko shook his head. ‘The way that big bloke was going on. Terrorising that poor kid behind the bar.
And I'll fight anybody
.'

‘Yeah, he was going all right, until you kneed him in the nuts.'

The major made a gesture with his hands. ‘Normally I don't do those sorts of things. It's just that he was big and I felt threatened.'

‘You felt threatened?' Les tried not to burst out laughing. The Gecko had just taken out three big men in about a minute and he ‘felt threatened'.

‘Yes, Les. Threatened and frightened.'

‘Well, dear me, Major. Don't you ever feel threatened. I mean, not when you've got me around. Shit! That's what I'm here for — aren't I?'

‘Yes,' nodded The Gecko. ‘I was watching you from on the floor. You don't throw a bad left hook — for a young bloke.' The Gecko nodded again. ‘Yes, you're right, Les. I never really thought of that.'

Norton was still trying not to laugh, and also trying to figure out whether The Gecko was laughing or not, when they'd crossed Six Ways and were back inside the flat. They both had a bit of blood on them, so Les suggested that if the major wanted to use the bathroom, Les would use Susie's en suite and they could get changed out of their smoky, dirty clothes. Garrick thought this was a splendid idea and about ten minutes later, they were both in clean T-shirts and jocks, standing in the lounge room.

‘Well, what would you like to do now, Garrick?' asked Norton. ‘Watch TV? There's a beer in the fridge.'

The major shook his head at the offer of a beer and looked at his watch. ‘I wouldn't mind doing a few more calculations and a bit of mucking around for another hour. Then how about we watch “Star Trek”. Do you like “Star Trek”, Les?'

Norton smiled and made an expansive gesture with his hands. ‘Hey, Garrick. You're talking to a fair dinkum trekkie here.'

‘Yeah?'

‘Reckon,' nodded Les. ‘It's my favourite show. Who do you like best? Data? Or that counsellor with the big tits?'

‘Ohh, no contest,' said The Gecko. ‘Give me Counsellor Troi and those grouse tits of hers anytime.'

Major Lewis went into the bedroom and closed the door. Les got a beer from the fridge and fiddled around finishing another tape. A little over an hour later they were on the lounge watching their favourite TV show. It wasn't a bad episode either. A mob of shifty Romulans had tried to sneak in under the Star Ship Enterprise's guard and cause havoc. But Captain Picard, Lieutenant Worf and the team kicked their Romulan khybers all the way to the other side of the galaxy. Plus Counsellor Troi got changed out of her uniform and they had a bit of a perv on her boobs. They watched the start of ‘Letterman'. But ten minutes later both men were yawning. The major had been up early and Les had had a big one the night before. He switched the TV off and they hit the sack. Minutes later Norton was staring at the universe and thinking once again that Major Lewis still didn't cease to amaze. What next, Norton wondered. Oh well. Before long, Les had beamed himself well and truly out and was soaring and snoring peacefully into the cosmos.

 

 

 

 

 

Around eight the next morning, Les was seated in the kitchen, finishing breakfast. He'd got up earlier, walked down and bought the papers in Hall Street. Now he was flicking idly through the
Telegraph Mirror
while he sipped his coffee. Les didn't have the radio on and there wasn't a great deal in the papers and what there was didn't interest him all that much. What Norton was mainly thinking about was his new flatmate, Major Lewis. When he said The Gecko never ceased to amaze, he sure wasn't kidding. The way he took those three dills out at Redwoods was beautiful to watch. Even if it was only plain, simple unarmed combat. Then he didn't even talk about it afterwards. Les knew heaps of blokes, they get into a bit of a scuffle, and what was just a few punches thrown turns into a knock down, drag 'em out brawl lasting half an hour. Then they go on like heroes and never shut up about it. The Gecko half killed his three blokes, then went home and watched ‘Star Trek'. He had style. For some reason, despite only knowing him a short time, Norton found himself liking Major Lewis. The Gecko was
definitely a man after his own heart. No matter what he is, mused Les as he sipped his coffee, he sure never ceases to amaze. I wonder what next? Les heard the bedroom door open, there were noises in the bathroom and a few minutes later the major was standing in the kitchen wearing a faded pair of blue tracksuit pants and an equally faded Newcastle Knights T-shirt.

‘G'day, Garrick,' said Les, brightly. ‘How's it goin'? You sleep all right?'

‘Yes, I did thank you, Les. That bed's quite comfortable. How about you?'

‘Like a top. I had a bit of a big one the night before. You fancy a cup of coffee?'

‘Yes, I wouldn't mind. That smells good.'

‘The plunger's over near the sink. If it ain't warm enough, just pour a cup and stick it in the microwave.' The Gecko smiled and rubbed his hands together. ‘Okey doke.'

Les flicked through the
Tele
some more while the major fossicked around in the kitchen. Before long, he was seated in front of Les with a coffee and a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich. Les offered him the
Herald
. The major declined, saying he might read the papers later on. Les continued to read. There was no conversation, The Gecko just sat there eating his toasted cheese sandwich, silently watching Les. By the time The Gecko had finished his cheese sandwich, he'd managed to completely psych Les out. Les put his coffee down and closed the paper.

‘So what were you thinking of doing today, Major?' he said.

The major eased back in his chair, folded his arms
and looked directly at Les. ‘I wouldn't mind getting a bit of exercise.'

‘Suits me,' replied Les. ‘It's not a bad day outside. Bit cloudy. But it's hot enough. What do you want to do? Have a run or something?'

‘I was thinking more of a walk.'

Norton nodded, understanding. ‘Fair enough.'

‘Do you know any good, long sets of steps around here, Les?'

Norton had to think for a minute. ‘Yeah. Down at Tamarama Gully. There's a set of steps run from there up to Birrell Street.'

‘Okay. We'll go there.' The major stood up. ‘You be ready in ten minutes?'

‘Yeah,' nodded Les. ‘But give me time to clean up first. The landlady's a bit of a fusspot.'

‘Yes. I've noticed that,' replied the major. He rinsed his cup and plate in the sink. ‘And I think that's a good thing to see.'

Fifteen minutes later, they were out the front. The major had his Brooks on, plus a sweatband and dark sunglasses. Norton looked much the same. Shorts, an old T-shirt, Nikes, sunnies and a sweatband. They did a few stretches against the letterboxes, where the major was easily as flexible as Les. Les didn't see Macabee or anyone else much around while they loosened up. They did a few more deep breaths and squats and things. Les glanced at his watch. The major gave the word. Les said to head towards the baths. He'd show the way after that. And they walked off, down Hall Street, then cutting into Lamrock Avenue.

The major didn't quite walk, he marched, swinging
his arms in short arcs across his waist like a Russian marine; and he took long strides. Norton was expecting maybe a brisk stroll. This was more like a forced march, almost a jog, as the major moved briskly along like a small express train. Finally Les fell into step, and before long they'd crossed Campbell Parade, passed the baths and were marching solidly along the path around the little bay in the cliffs known as The Boot because of the big rock sitting there that looks like one. They passed that and came to the set of sandstone steps that ran up from the bay.