The last summer
Summer 1986. Adelaide. Mike moved to the groove of Parliament’s “Flashlight" booming from his car speakers. Sweat trickled on his face, neck and chest.
At the car park of the Henley Beach Sailing Club, 2 am. They’d spent the day in the sun. Sleeping on the sand, in and out of the water, smoking dope, eating fruit and drinking cold beers.
It was his last summer with them, but no one knew it at the time. Mike had just finished his Honours and was about to go to Athens for a year. Slink was in the backseat with Leila. She was long, golden, olive. He could never evade her Phoenician eyes.
Slink’s plans did not extend beyond next Wednesday, when he was starting at a menswear store in the city. The twenty per cent discount on clothes made him happy – he’d be in gelato-coloured linen suits for the summer.
Leila had been with him for over a year, but Slink fucked around. She pretended not to notice, just like all the friends.
Slink was tall and dark like Leila. He had a Roman nose and pencil-drawn lips. He dressed as if he’d just walked off his yacht onto an Adriatic Greek island, not a suburban beach in Adelaide.
There were allegations that he was recently ‘allegedly’ involved in ‘violent altercations’, the cops said. They couldn’t make it stick. Last year he got busted for fencing stolen goods, but they couldn’t make that stick either, so he got away.
Mike saw him break a beer bottle on a guy’s face for no reason.
“That cunt walked into me on purpose,” Slink said.
“I’ve fallen in love with a crook and a cunt, what can I do?” Leila said to Mike one day. “Leave him,” Mike wanted to say.
“I love you,” he wanted to say, but instead he said, “Slink’s OK, just a bit offbeat, he’s had a hard time…”
“Mate, stop dancing … you’re killing my buzz!” Slink shouted from the car.
