Rock n Roll Babes from Outer Space (27 page)

Back in Parkes, Professor Luella Skye-Walker rubbed her bleary eyes and checked her screen for the hundredth time. ‘Getting anything, Aaron?’

‘Not a thing. How ‘bout you, Jason?’

‘Nothing. No thing. No Thing,’ Jason said. He got up to put some music on. ‘
The Cult of Ray
okay with everyone?’

‘Oh, why not?’ Aaron said. They’d been listening fairly non-stop to Pee Shy’s
Who Let All the Monkeys Out?
They liked singing along to the track, ‘Jason, I Thought I Saw a UFO’.

‘Damn, damn, damn,’ cursed Luella. ‘We were
this
close just two months ago. I’m sure of it. They said “Hello, Mum” and then they went silent. Are they out there, or not?’

‘What if
we
sent out a message?’ Aaron proposed. ‘I know it’s not in the brief.’

‘It’s definitely not in the brief,’ Luella affirmed.

‘Oh well,’ sighed Aaron.

Luella shook her head. ‘Don’t give up that easily. What were you thinking? Message-wise.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘Something like “Hello Pop”?’

Jason laughed. ‘“Hello Pop”. I like it.’

‘Can’t hurt,’ shrugged Luella. ‘Let’s do it, rocket man.’

Baby checked Jake’s watch. She tapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes, sat up and shook the sand out of his dreads. ‘Wozza time?’ he asked.

‘Four.’

Where’d the day gone? It was already time to meet the gang at the pub for their soundcheck.

Jake and Baby pulled up just as a bouncer was evicting a pair of quarrelling drunks. The bouncer, Big Brian, was built like a brick shithouse, which is Australian for ‘he had no neck’. He held the sobriety-challenged duo by the scruff of their necks and tossed them onto the street as though they were chooks. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he sneered righteously, and disappeared back inside.

Baby looked at Jake. ‘Rough-o-rama!’ she exclaimed.

The two drunks had already forgotten what they’d been fighting about and were now sitting on the pavement and lighting each other’s cigarettes. When they clapped eyes on Baby, they fell over and kissed the pathway.

‘Hey, Baby! Jake!’ The surfie van pulled up just behind Kate, and Lati jumped out. ‘See you dudes later tonight,
hey?’ She waved them off, straightening her clothing. Doll was padding down the street from the beach, still in her wetsuit. When she caught up with the others, they sauntered into the pub together.

‘
HOOHOOHOOHOOHOO
!’ yelled out a representative of Byron’s least celebrated subculture, one in which the men sported non-Celtic tattoos, moustaches and non-ironic bad haircuts, and the women answered to names like Janelle and Shareen—specifically, what they answered was, ‘Oi? Youse talkin’ to
ME?’

‘P
HWOAH!
O
VER HERE
,
BABY
!’ Several of the men around the bar grabbed their crotch in greeting.

‘Now, how do you fellas know my name?’ Baby asked, sincerely mystified, grabbing her crotch back. For some reason, this only seemed to set them off even more.
‘WHYT-WHYOO,
’ wolfwhistled one, and then another, and then another.

To the catcalls and whistles and general testosteronal yodelling, Lati predictably replied, ‘Wanna suck my cock?’

Well, predictably for her, anyway. The rough-heads clearly were fairly stunned by this. Several opened their mouths and curled their upper lips, which was an Earthling gestural abbreviation for, ‘Are youse cruisin’ fer a bruisin’?’

‘Uh, girls,’ Jake interjected nervously. ‘I don’t think—’

‘Shut ya poofter trap,’ a wiry man with beady little eyes, dangerously pointy boots and a missing front tooth instructed Jake curtly. Then he returned the full glory of his attention to the girls. ‘Youse dykes?’ he challenged. Both his general demeanour and the tone of his voice suggested he was not a wholehearted supporter of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. ‘Oi reckon,’ he declared, without waiting for clarification regarding their sexual
orientation, ‘all youse dykes needs is a good man.’ He scratched his balls and stood up. He was chewing gum slowly and ostentatiously. ‘That’s what oi reckon.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ Doll replied, walking straight up to him, a tiny little creature in body rubber, her horns flattened from the surf and pointing forward like those of a bull. Deliberately, she reached for his bottle of beer from the bar. Standing on tiptoe, she poured the contents of the bottle over his head, making sure most of it flowed over his face. Then, without taking her eyes off his, she took a large bite out of the bottle. ‘Is that what you reckon?’ she said, crunching glass. ‘A “good man”, eh? Then tell me. What good’s a man?’ She spat out a small shard onto the floor. ‘Don’t make me take out your other tooth, Ratface,’ she cautioned. ‘It could have tragic consequences for your lifestyle. For one thing, you wouldn’t be able to gnaw through the electrical wiring anymore.’

‘
YOU
—’ Ratface pulled back his right fist and shook it at Doll.

‘
Rumble!
’ hollered Lati, vaulting up onto the bar and voguing like Michael Jackson in the video for ‘Beat It’.

‘Oh shit,’ said Jake under his breath. Jake loved Tarantino and all,
but.
He looked at Baby in alarm. To his horror, she seemed a million miles away.

Baby might not have been a million miles away, but she definitely wasn’t quite all there. She was in fact in another dimension entirely, Dimension 865A, to be precise. Cavorting with a pack of singing daisies. They were so
sweet.
They were so
cute.
They were twirling and skipping and steering yellow polka-dot flying saucers around and around her head.

Lati bent over, pinched Ratface’s ears in her fingers and
pulled him up. He had been staring at her and Doll as though in shock, but he was now clearly coming to his senses, and his senses were beer-soaked and furious. His mates were rising from their stools as well and doing the sort of thing that Earthlings did when they wanted to indicate that they were preparing to rearrange someone else’s facial features—breaking glasses on the bar, cussing under their breath, snarling and spitting.

Baby
loved
her daisies. They represented everything that was beautiful in the yooniverz. And the yooniverz was
such
a beautiful place. The daisies were smiling at her now. She smiled and smiled and smiled back.

ZING! The room was bathed in light more dazzling than that of the sun and softer than that of the moon. A scent like that of sun-warmed skin and sticky rice with mango infused the air. The ears of everyone in the room were filled with the sound of celestial harps and violins, overlaid, of course, with jangly guitar hooks and hell vocals. It was that old alien magic at work.

‘
YOU, YOU—BEWDY
!’ Ratface brayed. He stepped forward to give Doll a big hug as the others applauded enthusiastically, boozy eyes alight with good cheer and goodwill.

‘Oh, retch,’ scowled Doll, pushing him off her with a look of extreme distaste. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that, Baby. I was just starting to have fun.’

Baby blinked. ‘Pardon? Do what?’

Just then, Torquil and Tristram flopped and stumbled into the pub, moaning and groaning dramatically. They were wearing sunnies and holding onto their stomachs. Sharp, oddly-shaped lumps protruded from under their matching ‘I
Tina Arena’ t-shirts.

‘Yo,’ squeaked Torquil.

‘More poofs,’ noted Ratface approvingly. ‘That’s really nice to see around here. It sorta takes the macho edge off things, doncha think? Welcome, boys,’ he gushed. ‘We here at this pub
respect
difference.’

‘Uh, thanks,’ replied Torquil uncertainly. He looked at Jake for some help in deciphering this new and unexpected signifier in the great post-modernist landscape of life. Jake was too busy admiring you know who to notice. Lati hopped off the bar with an air of disappointment.

‘What’s going on?’ croaked Tristram.

Lati had slacker communications down to a T. She shrugged in reply, an ironic twist to her mouth.

‘Fair enough,’ nodded Tristram.

Doll was fed up with the lot of them. ‘We soundcheck-ing or what, then?’ she snapped. She went out to the van to start lugging in.

‘What’s under your shirts?’ Jake had finally managed to tear his eyes away from Baby as they shifted their gear into the venue.

‘Crystals,’ Torquil frowned.

‘
Crystals?
’

‘We got some
wicked
shit in Nimbin. Not sure how we got back to Byron, but we just kinda came to on the beach an hour ago, feeling like furballs vomited up by a very large cat. Scuzzy
as.
We were toxing out when Tristram remembered seeing a sign advertising crystal healing. So we got some crystals and gaffer-taped them all over our bodies.’ He lifted his t-shirt and showed Jake.

‘Is it working?’

‘Not really,’ Tristram admitted.

‘Maybe they take a while to kick in.’

‘That’s what we’re hoping.’

‘Where’s Henry?’ The twins grimaced in unison.

‘Here.’ What was that? The others looked to see where the very small voice was coming from. ‘Over here.’ Henry was on his hands and knees in the doorway, looking like something a dog wouldn’t even consider for dinner.

‘Oh, dear,’ said Jake.

‘I’ll be right,’ said Henry. ‘I just need a Panadol.’

After the soundcheck, the twins left to score some over-the-counters for themselves and Henry, whom they left chilling out on the side of the stage with his sunnies on and the carrying case for a drum over his head. Lati and Doll headed up Jonson Street to look for an automotive repair shop—the little drama in the pub had only sharpened their appetites.

‘What do you want to do?’ Jake deferred to Baby. They still had some time before the gig was scheduled to start.

‘Not sure,’ she said. ‘It’s been quite an afternoon. I wouldn’t mind staying here and shooting some pool, actually.’ She dropped a coin into the slot, and began to set up. Baby had become addicted to pool. On Jake’s advice, she’d taken to flubbing a few shots now and then so that she wouldn’t scare the other beans too much. He strolled over to the doorway, squinted into the sunshine, put his sunnies back on and joined her in the side room. ‘Yeah, I reckon it’s best to stay inside,’ he said. ‘I think it’s possible to overdo this outdoors thing. Sunshine’s a bit overrated. Don’t you think?’

‘Absolutely,’ she agreed, replacing the triangle on the green lamp above the table and chalking her cue. ‘I prefer the light from white dwarfs myself. It’s a hell of a lot softer, more romantic.’

God, he liked this girl.

So why don’t you do something about it, Jake? I’m getting bored already. I mean, foreplay and buildup are one
thing, but it’s been, what, nearly 250 pages already—in My diary, anyway—and you still haven’t made a move.

Who’s that? Jake looked around him nervously.

God. You called. Remember?

Huh?
Fuck,
those space cookies were full-on. That’s it. No more drugs. Ever.

It’s not the space cookies, My handsome little dreadheaded one. I thought you were a thinking girl’s crumpet, Jake. I’m a bit disappointed in you. I don’t detect much thinking going on at all. If you don’t mind My being frank, I’d suggest you lay off the chemicals just a wee bit and concentrate on the chemistry.

Sorry?

Kiss her, you fool.

Kiss her? Now? Just like that? Hello? God? Mate?

Where’d He go?

(He hadn’t gone anywhere; He was watching.)

Jake swallowed. ‘Uh, Baby.’

‘You wanna break? What is it?’ Baby looked at Jake. He had a tulip sitting on his left ear. She went to pluck it, but it wasn’t there after all, and her hand stroked the bouncy matted pipes of hair that were there. To say that Jake shuddered would be less accurate than to say he
vibrated.
From head to toe and back to head again. Jake’s heart was beating fast. Digitidigitidigiti. He stared at her full red lips, the corners of which were curled upwards, and noted how close the top of her lips were to the tip of her nose. Jake always loved that in a girl. Jake imagined himself shrinking and climbing into the bow of her lips as if it were a deck chair, danging his legs down one side, tickling her teeth with his fingers and blowing soft breaths up her nostrils at the same time. He imagined bouncing on the soft hammock of her thick blue lashes, swinging from
her adorable earlobes, and rolling around on the springy mattress of her magnificent cheeks.