The pause goes on too long.
“Did he…die?” guesses Ethan.
“Oh, no,” says Leo. “He didn’t die.” He looks out the window wistfully. “We just lost touch.”
Okay, so that was a weird thing to say.
“Sorry,” says Leo. “You losing your friend, for some reason it just made me think of him. It’s hardly the same.”
No, mate, it’s not.
Ethan changes the subject. “So, what about you? How long did the lady give you?”
“Oh!” Leo laughs. “Ha ha. Not long at all. Forty-three, which is this November. A workplace accident. You?”
“I don’t have long either,” says Ethan. “I turn thirty in October.”
“And she said you’re dying in a fight?” Leo does a dorky little boxing move: jab, jab, uppercut. “You get in many fights?” He nods at Ethan’s sling. “What did you do to yourself?”
“She said assault. So I guess that’s not necessarily a fight. I’m pretty conflict avoidant. I broke my wrist in a rock-climbing…mishap,” says Ethan.
“My father always said if those psychics knew what they were doing they’d win the lottery,” says Leo.
“Maybe some of them have won,” says Ethan. “They just don’t advertise it. But yeah, I’m definitely not a believer.”
There is silence for a moment. A car changes lanes directly in front of the taxi. The driver slams on his brakes and simultaneously slams his fist against his car horn. Leo and Ethan are jerked forward. The driver opens his window and yells insults.
“Sorry about that, boys!” says the driver, who has the same cockney accent and thick wrinkled neck as a terrifying gangster in a movie Ethan saw with Harvey.
Two weeksago.
When Harvey was just Harvey. Like, not that important. He had come up to Sydney for the weekend. Reviews were bad, but Ethan and Harvey thought the movie was pretty good.
“Not your fault, mate!” says Leo. “Idiots on the roads these days!”
They drive in silence for a moment before the taxi driver clears his throat.
“Hope you don’t mind me eavesdropping. Was there a psychic on your flight?”
“Just a poor soul with dementia, we think,” says Leo. “She was telling everyone how and when they’re going to die.”
“Is that right?” The taxi driver looks over his shoulder and deftly changes lanes. “A clairvoyant told an aunt of mine she’d die on her sixtieth birthday.”
There is a pause, and finally Leo says, “And—ah—did she?”
“She did, mate!” says the driver happily. “Choked to death a minute before midnight on her sixtieth birthday. Eating a leftover party pie from her birthday party. Always a bit greedy, Auntie Carol, may the poor old chook rest in peace.”
“Oh, dear,” says Leo. “Very important to chew your food.”
“Fortunately, the same clairvoyant told me mum she’d live a long, happy life.”
“And she’s still alive?” confirms Ethan.
“Alive and kicking!” says the driver. “Loves her lawn bowls.”
“Well, you know, we’re kind of hoping this clairvoyant does not have special powers,” says Leo. “Because a few of us got earlier deaths than we would have liked.”
“Got it, mate. So if her predictions begin to come true?” A passing streetlight illuminates the car so that Ethan can see his eyes, bright and interested, looking back at them in the rearview mirror. “Then you’ll know.”
Chapter 30
I’ve checked my diary and the first death took place on the same day as my Introduction to Line Dancing class.
I was not aware of it at the time, or for several months after.
I don’t mean to sound flippant.
I’m not flippant about death. You could argue that death has defined my life, both personally and professionally.
The line dancing was not a success. I don’t know why I thought it would be.
Chapter 31
It is the morning after Leo’s pointless day trip to Hobart and the tragedy of the missed Lion King concert.
A thunderstorm has caused flash flooding, power lines to come down, and, to the joy of parents throughout the suburbs, the cancellation of all Saturday morning outdoor sports.
Oli is at a friend’s place down the road.
