Worth

I never considered how my life would end. Living day by day made time seem infinite. There was always another bridge to sleep under. Damp blankets in the back of homes. Stray cats to cuddle up to. Time finally started to appear short, blackened by the blood streaming down my face. Head pulsating. I desperately reached outward as if to find options. There were none.

*

Bourke Street was in a flurry with the Christmas windows. The weather decided to be mild as families, couples and friends leisured their way to enjoy the decoration and take part in the hectic shopping. Children had one of three reactions to the display; fascination, horror or disinterest. Watching a toddler squeal and resist being taken any closer to the giant mice was not only entertaining, but opportunistic. With the distraction I casually passed by the parent. Swiftly their change from the coffee shop was in my pocket.

Having a keen eye for these things, it was a buffet for the slight of hand. I always kept my hands in my pockets whilst moving through a crowd knowing there were no honour amongst theives. Scoping the shopping frenzy and festive excitement I eyed bank goers, obnoxious teenagers blasting music, defenceless tip jars, those on a phone call talking so loudly everyone knew their husband took the dog when he left.

When the day was done and I had successfully snatched something for dinner, I slowly made my way to a concrete parking lot as dull and colourless as everything around it. Secluded enough to not have an audience and cold enough for relief from the sometimes scorching Australian Christmas weather. There at the bottom of a staircase I returned to a laid out sleeping bag. Small candles almost completely melted away. Books with curled corners and deeply wrinkled spines.

I dropped my backpack and sat beside it, taking in a moment of quiet. With a sigh I started unveiling my new possessions. A watch that was once reflecting the light brilliantly was revealed to be a fake. I chucked it.

Scratched coins that had been in more pockets than I. Fabric tape. A bluetooth speaker rolled away from me. Fresh cash notes in brilliant colours withdrawn straight from the bank. My attention landed on a small green cover notebook.

I stared blankly at it, scratched my head, trying to recall when I obtained it.

When I opened the book its pages were stiff. A waft of coffee aroma invaded my nostrils followed by a stench. I dry heaved, unfortunately familiar with this smell. I even passed it on my way to the car park. The distinct smell of Melbourne alleyway. Home of business’ bins and a passerbys' risky toilet stop. I dropped it wishing I had shoplifted hand sanitiser. The book opened to some pages at the back partitioned with a clip. There were messily handwritten addresses; Red Cape Lane, Spark Lane, Evans Lane, and more. Beside these addresses were numbers crossed out, re-written and crossed out again.

Tapping became louder. Unintentionally I had my nails tapping on the railing, my gaze fixated on the horrible green book.

Red Cape Lane was not close. I trudged as daylight suddenly dissipated into a musty dew of indecisive lights. Melbourne QV illuminated the streets, swallowing profits for the holiday season as I got closer. Following my newly acquired phone GPS, I entered a small street before it between a glass monument of the city’s modern age and a remnant of Melbourne’s history painted over with thick resistance to aging. I went up the ramp to the right behind the older building. As per usual the shops and restaurants were abuzz with socialites enjoying the company of others, musing over their lives events, and allowing a little drinking to loosen up the day. I stood there, eyes darted from common areas to see if the green book was leading me to anything worthwhile. I huffed and pulled my jumper straight with no nonsense. There were too many places this book could be referring to. There were no addresses with the number beside Red Cape Lane. What was I expecting? Left with too much time on my hands, and my hands never without something to do, I decided this was a waste of time.

New business move, I scanned the buzz. Gazing into the restaurants the staff moved as fast as sound. I eyed the tip jar, empty. The surrounding restaurants were the same. My head tilted up to see the second floor security camera. My eyes caught sight of something closer than I expected. Wedged between the building supports just above my head was a small plastic bag with rubbish inside. Its shape was not twisted for the whole bag to fit the cramped space, but solid like there was a full Big M inside that did not show. There was no way to get it without being obvious. I glanced at the camera, then around me.

‘Stuff it.’

I climbed up and snatched the bag, beelined for the bathroom. Inside a locked toilet cubicle I tore open the plastic bag. Inside was another thicker black plastic bag. This one I tugged and tore at with all my strength. A battle it almost won. Finally it relented and I was stunned by a collection of colour. I was greeted with blue, red, yellow and green.

‘What?’ I exhaled in disbelief.

My head ran with possibilities, not with the things I could buy, but the other streets listed. If this was about a thousand or two who knew how much the others had. I burst out of the bathroom and ran into a cleaner. They looked me up and down.

Street by street I knew what I was looking for and had found it was quite easy to spot. Regular trash. No one would have picked it up unless they were paid to. I had walked so far that I was left dragging my feet well into late night. Aching and swollen, lugging a backpack full of everything I own, and suddenly came in possession of. Weighed down, shoulders slumped, tiny groans escaping me resembling a zombie. I returned to the car park staircase and simply sat to catch my breath for a moment. I slumped and wriggled into the sleeping bag attempting to regain warmth. My exhaustion was slowly replaced with anxious curiosity. Slapping the plastic bags on the concrete, I tore at the closest and was flashed colour. I scrambled at the rest and each one filled me with glee. Kicking and squealing with a rush of excitement, I slapped my hand onto my mouth alarmed by the sudden volume I exhibited, giggled, and then got to counting. Three thousand five hundred. Four thousand. Three thousand. Five hundred. One thousand. Four thousand and five hundred. Three thousand five hundred again.

‘Oh my god. Twenty thousand?’ I stared, forgetting to blink. ‘Twenty thousand!’ Tears swelled in my eyes from both staring and overwhelming excitement.

This was not all though. I had not completed the list of addresses in the green book. There were still several yet to be visited. The excitement rose, but I took a deep breath and held in another outburst. I neatly packed it all in my bag and cuddled drifting off to sleep.

Tapping. Subtle tapping. It rang in my ears as the subtlety turned intense. My crusty eyes opened and looked up at the stairs. A few floors up several shades descended in urgency. I hawled the backpack and sprinted out the exit. Pillars passed stating level A. I ran up the ramp. Ground level then turned onto the street. Facing the Murray River I hopped down the steps and found a dark area. Above the old stone fence a number of people darted up and down in search of me. Their uniform was neon yellow, stained, and a couple even had rubber gloves. One pointed straight at me. I sprinted again. Huffing and gasping for air I got to the Birrarung Marr Princes Walk sign. Covering any exposed skin I climbed into the spiky plants and ducked. The pursuers ran by, some stopping to look around again.

‘She went down here!’

‘Where?’

‘This is how she got it in the first place! You’re bloody blind!’

‘Anything?’

‘Can’t believe you lost the book.’

My breathing would not slow down, hands trembled and throat dry. Carefully I swung my backpack in front of me, delved in and pulled out the book. Then I pulled out the fabric tape. As quiet as possible I wrapped the book in tape over and over until the tape was used up. The second they were out of sight I leapt out across the pavement, to the dirt, and to the edge of the river. With a big throw I cast the book into the water. It floated up immediately. I was suddenly jerked down by my backpack. My head slammed onto the dirt, the sound crackled then pulsated. What I could barely see at night blurred. New pain shot through my stomach and ribs as dark figures that could only be my pursuers kicked and bashed at my writhing body. I sputtered blood and buried my face into the dirt.

‘Just get the bag and leave her.’

I never considered how my life would end.

Light invaded my senses, making my eyes flutter open. Blurred details slowly revealed themselves. Clean. White. I was in bed. Blanket. Pain. I groaned and shut my eyes tight to will it away before opening them again. Comprehension then struck me. Beeping became increasingly apparent. I attempted to throw the blanket off me. My right arm was stopped by cold metal. Handcuffs kept me in the hospital bed. I slumped back. Still, there were no options. My flurry drew in a nurse who was curt and quick in checking me. A doctor followed a while after. They did not necessarily need to explain I had broken ribs and punctured an organ. I felt it. I responded to their health relevant questions as curt as the nurse had treated me.

There was a knock on the door. The doctor stood and the nurse opened to let in two police officers. My monitor beeps increased once again.They left me alone to face the police officers with no regard to it. I gave them a narrative of complete honesty and yet was fearful of what it may result in. They nodded often and prompted me to explain parts in my story they already had background knowledge about. Money missing from local shops and restaurants was a subject already in their radar. My collecting the trash at these specific locations. They had tracked me to my parking lot then followed the security cameras to what unveiled was the reason I was in hospital. It was so dark they didn’t quite get what happened completely. However, early morning runners found me about an hour after and called an ambulance.

‘So, it’s wrapped in black tape in the Murray.’

‘Black book,’ The officer repeated to themself as they scribbled on a notepad.

‘Thank you. You know, there are always systems in place to make sure no one is homeless. Remember that.’

I welp of guilt swept over me. The officer noticed my expression.

‘For everyone.’

One uncuffed me then both officers made their way out of the room. A nurse propped the door open for them and for a split moment I could hear.

‘Bloody community cleaners.’ One officer chuckled.

‘Cheeky buggers stashing trash bags all over the city.’