USER PAYS
A Political Parable
Tabitha Ormiston-Smith
Copyright Tabitha Ormiston-Smith 2014
USER PAYS
Once upon a time there was a panel beater called Rod Stevens.
Rod lived in a three bedroom weatherboard house in Werribee, with his wife, Sharon, his children, Johnny (eleven), Suzie (seven) and Roger (three months), their dog, Rover, and their cat, Fluffy. Sharon was a qualified hairdresser, but she’d cut back to three mornings a week when the kids came along.
The Stevens Family was a happy family. On weekends they always went for a family outing – to the beach or park in summer, or if the weather was cold they would go to a matinee at their local cinema. For a special treat they’d visit the zoo or the Aquarium. They all liked each other, and even Rover and Fluffy got along.
One day, Rod came home from work looking thoughtful. After he had his shower and got a tinnie from the fridge, he sat down at the kitchen table. “Some of the blokes at work were talking about this political thing, Shaz. They reckon it’s going to save our economy.”
“Really, darl? How’s that work then?”
“It’s called User Pays. See, everybody pays a lot of tax and not everybody uses everything. Like, say the kids grow up and finish school, we’ll still be paying tax for schools but we’re not getting anything for it. So we shouldn’t have to pay tax for it then. And people with no kids shouldn’t have to. And airports, right, most people never fly anywhere but we’re all paying for the airports and traffic controllers and all of that. The idea with User Pays is that the people who use a thing should be the ones to pay for it. And people who don’t, shouldn’t have to pay, see? It’s more fair. Everybody pays their own way.”
***
Nothing more was heard about User Pays for several days, but Rod seemed to be much quieter than usual and frowned a lot, which worried Sharon, as it wasn’t like him.
That Friday night after tea, Rod said he had a family announcement to make. He said he had decided that from now on, the family must operate according to the government principle of User Pays. “It stands to reason Mr Abbott can’t fix our economy unless we all get behind it,” he said. Rod had always been a kind husband and a good father, so nobody was too worried. “Dad’ll look after us,” said Johnny to Suzie later that night. “We don’t need to worry.”
MONDAY
That Monday night, Sharon was in the kitchen getting tea, as usual, when Rod came in from his shower and went to the fridge for his tinnie. Rod didn’t say anything, and Sharon thought he had a funny look on his face. He went to the kitchen table, which was already laid for tea, and took away two of the place settings. Sharon was confused.
“What’re you doing, Darl?”
“I told you, Shaz. User Pays. Johnny and Suzie aren’t working and they don’t contribute to the household expenses, so I’m afraid we can’t feed them.”
Sharon burst out laughing, but the laugh died on her face when Rod didn’t crack a smile.
“You’re not serious.”
“I’m sorry, love, it has to be. User Pays is going to save us all. Save the country. We all have to make sacrifices.”
“They’re our kids, Rod, not some political thing. I’m not sending my children to bed without any tea.”
Rod sighed and sank into a chair. “You gotta trust me, love, trust me to know what’s best for this family. Haven’t I always taken care of youse all?”
“Yeah, but – “
“No buts, Sharon. Tough times call for tough measures. We’ve just got to trust Mr Abbott.”
***
Johnny and Suzie and Rover crouched underneath the kitchen window. They’d never heard anything like it.
“It’s OK, Suze,” said Johnny. “They’re just having a fight. All parents fight sometimes.”
“Mum and Dad never do.”
“It’ll be OK, Suze.”
The sound of a crash came through the window, followed by a slap and the sound of Sharon crying. Johnny put his arm around Suzie’s thin shoulders. Rover shivered and pressed against his other side. They waited for normality to reassert itself in the form of their mum calling them in for tea, but the call never came.
After a couple of hours, they went cautiously inside. The kitchen was empty, and Mum and Dad’s door was shut. No sound could be heard. Johnny poked about in the kitchen; there were dishes in the draining board. Two plates. He fed Rover and Fluffy and got peanut butter sandwiches and some milk for himself and Suzie. Then they went to bed.
TUESDAY
Johnny got up at six, as usual. He had his paper round to do before school. He could hear his dad singing in the shower, and when he peered cautiously round the half-open door of his parents’ room he could see his mum huddled under the blankets. Everything must be back to normal. He got himself a bowl of cornflakes and dished up some Whiskettes for Fluffy and some Meatybites for Rover. By the time Rod came out of the bathroom, he was away to the newsagent’s to pick up the papers.
That afternoon when Johnny and Suzie got home from school, Mum called them into the kitchen.
“Sit down, please, I’ve got to talk to you before your father gets home.”
“What’s wrong, Mum?” Johnny knew something had to be wrong. His mum had a black eye.
“Now you remember your Dad telling us about this User Pays thing?”
“Sure, Mum, the government thing.”
“That’s right. Well, your Dad says that everyone has to pay for what they use. So if you can’t pay for your food, you’re not allowed to eat anything.”
Johnny and Suzie looked at each other, baffled.
“But what are we going to eat? What about Rover? And Fluffy? They don’t earn anything.”
“I don’t know, Johnny. We just have to trust that your father knows best.”
Johnny said a rude word and ran outside. Suzie started to cry.
WEDNESDAY
On Wednesday afternoon there was hell to pay when Rod came home early and caught Sharon coming out of baby Roger’s room with an empty bottle. She’d changed to bottle feeding a week after Roger was born, so that the kids could share in taking care of him. Sharon believed it kept them all closer as a family if they all helped to look after the baby. Now she wished she’d kept on breastfeeding. He wouldn’t have been able to do anything about that.
Sharon attended at the Bulk Billing Clinic and was x-rayed for a possible fractured jaw.
Rod smashed all the baby bottles in a fury, and then sat down at the kitchen table, drank five tinnies and cried.
Johnny and Suzie took one look at the situation and legged it down the road to McDonalds. Luckily Johnny had his paper round money. They stayed there until the counter lady started to give them funny looks, then went home and crept quietly to their rooms. There was nothing to do except go to bed, because Dad had said only the grownups, who had paid for it, were allowed to watch the television.
Rover barked all night and dug up a dahlia bush.
Fluffy was nowhere to be seen.
THURSDAY
Sharon was worried about little Roger. He wasn’t crying much now, but he didn’t seem as bright as usual, and his nappies, when there was anything at all, were a dark, dark yellow. He lay in his cot, panting silently. Sharon sat beside the cot, ripping up some old towels. Rod had forbidden her to buy any more disposable nappies. She could pay for them out of what she earned at the salon, but Rod had dictated that that money could only be used to pay for things for Sharon herself: half the groceries, her own clothes, but nothing for the kids, nothing for the animals.
When Sharon had finished with the towels, she made herself a cup of coffee and wandered out into the back yard. She sat on the back steps and thought. Rover came and lay at her feet and whined, and
she leaned down to pat him. Poor old boy, she thought. You’re hungry too. She knew the kids had been feeding him on the sly, but would have been horrified if she had known that they were going through litter bins in the park and at school to find food for him. The paper round money only stretched so far, and it didn’t run to cans of Pal and sacks of kibble, besides the problem of where such things could be hidden.
She sighed and went to turn on the hose. The garden didn’t need watering, but she could fill up Rover’s hole that he’d dug, so he could get a drink. Rod had gone ballistic that morning when he saw Johnny filling up his water bowl. Johnny was going to have his own black eye.
FRIDAY
At eleven o’clock on Friday morning, Roger gave a little sigh and stopped breathing. It was one of Sharon’s mornings at the salon, but she’d had to let the babysitter go because Rod said Roger had to be responsible for his own babysitting expenses. So there was no one to watch the tiny life expire. Outside the window, Rover barked frantically until his voice gave out, and then collapsed in a huddle of misery. He was overheated, because the water had all drained out of his hole and he’d had nothing to drink since the previous day.
Sharon reached home at half past one and found Rover collapsed and panting feebly, and baby Roger lifeless in his cot.
Shortly afterwards, a police car, called by the next-door neighbours, pulled up in front of Number 11. It was joined soon afterwards by an ambulance. Curtains twitched all along Wombat Drive as the paramedics came out carrying a tiny stretcher wrapped in blue plastic. Half an hour later, the screaming stopped, the ambulance drove away, and Sharon left with the two policemen.
***
Johnny and Suzie dawdled on the way home from school. Home just wasn’t a very fun place to be lately, and also they had to check out all the rubbish bins at the shopping mall. They didn’t feel very energetic after getting through the school day without lunch or breakfast, and so it was nearly five by the time they reached home.
Mrs Weatherby next door, who’d called the police, had been watching out the front window since the police and ambulance had left. She had intended to catch the children before they went inside, and take them into her own house until their father got home. But people ate early in that neighbourhood, and Mr Weatherby would be home from the factory at five thirty and wanting his tea, and what with one thing and another Mrs Weatherby was busy in the kitchen when the children returned to 11 Wombat Drive. The kitchen was on the other side of the house from Number 11, so she didn’t hear the gate squeak, and later, when questioned by the police, she would not be able to say with any certainty whether the children had come home that afternoon at all.
***
As soon as he came through the front gate, Johnny knew something was wrong. More wrong, that was, than everything lately. Rover didn’t come out to greet him. He dropped his backpack on the path and ran around the side of the house, where he found Rover flat out in the tiny bit of shade next to the wall. Rover didn’t get up when he saw Johnny; he was no longer able to stand, but he thumped his tail feebly on the ground, and love shone from his brown eyes.
Johnny hugged him once, fiercely, then ran for the hose, tears pouring from his eyes and bad words from his mouth.
***
By seven o’clock, Rod still had not come home. Rover had recovered somewhat, and was ensconced on the living room sofa, covered in wet towels, with his head on Suzie’s lap. There was still no sign of Fluffy, and Sharon’s mobile was going to voicemail.
Johnny had had enough. Something had built up and built up until it tripped a switch in his eleven-year-old brain. Johnny was out of control and flying blind. He turned his backpack upside down, shaking out his school books and pencil case, and ran to his room. He changed quickly, leaving his school uniform in a heap on the floor. He stuffed a change of clothes, some socks and a heavy sweater into the backpack. His scout knife and compass went in, and he got down on his stomach to haul out his sleeping bag from under the bed. He looked around his room - familiar, messy, and somehow already very far away. He shrugged his shoulders and walked out the door, not bothering to turn off the light.
In the kitchen, he took whatever tinned and packet food he could find, and a small enamel bowl for Rover. He didn’t forget the can opener, although there was a can opener attachment on his scout knife anyway. Be prepared. He was going into uncharted territory, but he would be as prepared as he could. He took a small towel and a cake of soap from the bathroom. Then he remembered his toothbrush and the toothpaste. He grabbed a packet of aspirin and the band-aids and antiseptic cream, knocking his father’s bottle of aftershave onto the tiles, where it shattered. He went back to the living room.
Suzie was still sitting on the sofa, stroking Rover and sniffling a bit. Johnny grabbed her arm and pulled her up.
“Go and pack, we’re leaving. Get changed. Wear jeans and pack a change of clothes and your toothbrush. Don’t forget a warm sweater. And get your sleeping bag from when we went camping that time.”
“Leaving, what, where are we going?”
“I don’t know, Suze, look, just do it, ok?”
“We can’t just go, what about Mum and Dad? We’ll get in trouble.”
Johnny ground his teeth and sat down on the arm of his dad’s chair. “Look around you, Suze. Look at us. We’re going through the bins to feed Rover and eating McDonald’s every night, and I don’t know how much longer the money’s going to last. Dad’s drunk every night and he’s bashing Mum, and he bashed me too, look at this eye. And Fluffy’s run off, and just look at Rover. Just look at him, Suze! He could of died with no water, you know that. And we don’t even know where they are or when they’ll be back, or even if, and when they do we’re not allowed to have anything to eat, it’s just fucked, Suze, it’s fucked and I’m getting out, and I’m taking Rover, and you have to come too because who’s going to take care of you if you stay here?”
Suzie started to cry again. “You said a bad word, Dad’ll whack you,” she snivelled between sobs.
Johnny sighed. “Look, just do what I said, get changed and get your stuff, don’t forget your toothbrush. It’ll be OK.” Somehow, his eleven-year-old brain whispered, somehow it’ll be ok. It’s got to be.
Suzie sniffed and went off to get changed, dragging her backpack on the floor behind her. Mum would rouse on her if she saw that. Mum couldn’t abide sloppiness. Pick up your feet, don’t drag that on the ground, clean up your room. She gulped back another sob.
While he waited for Suzie, Johnny prowled restlessly around the house. Roger wasn’t in his cot. They must have taken him with them, wherever they went. Johnny supposed they might have taken him to the hospital, he’d seemed pretty sick last night. That would be why Mum’s phone was off, you had to turn phones off in hospitals because of the equipment. He wandered into his parents’ room, and then he saw it, and froze. Mum’s bag, sitting on the dressing table. She never went anywhere without her bag. Johnny started to have a really bad feeling about this, but then he remembered that he already had a really bad feeling, about everything, it was all fucked and they were running away.
There was $165 in Mum’s wallet and some loose change. Johnny hesitated, then shrugged and took it all.
***
Sharon was indeed at the hospital, having been heavily sedated. Rod was at the police station, assisting the police with their enquiries. He and Sharon would both be charged with murder, and in the alternative child homicide, as soon as the sergeant got back from his meal break. Rod did not realise this. He thought it might all be a bad dream. A social worker had been dispatched to collect Johnny and Suzie and take them into care, but owing to a misunderstanding about her job share days, the message sat in her voicemail, where it would remain until Monday morning.
***
Fluffy stretched luxuriously on the padded window seat, and licked cream off her whiskers. The elderly couple she’d been visiting were generous and kind, and she’d been spending more and more time at their ho
use since things had got so lean at home. Today, she decided, she just wouldn’t go home at all.
AFTERWARDS
Johnny and Suzie set up camp in a vacant house which still had the water turned on, gaining entry by breaking a back window. Rover, however, didn’t thrive. They couldn’t understand why, but what Johnny and Suzie didn’t realise was that Rover’s brush with death from dehydration had left his organs severely damaged, and he was now an old, old dog. He shuffled about, increasingly unsteady on his feet, and one morning, he didn’t wake up.
It is not known what happened to Johnny and Suzie after that. Various employees of 7/11s and milk bars in the area reported sightings during the three weeks after their disappearance from 11 Wombat Drive, but the sightings stopped abruptly, and they were never heard of again. The case remains open. The policewoman assigned to it believes the children to have fallen prey to one of the predators that have become such a risk to children in recent years.
Sharon never completely recovered from her psychotic break. She is now in an institution, having been deemed unfit to stand trial. She spends most of her day shuffling from room to room, asking people if they’ve seen her children.
Rod is still serving his sentence at Port Philip Prison. He is a model prisoner, never causing any trouble. He troubles the other inmates, though, with his empty stare and constant mumbling. Rod constantly relives in his mind the happy days with his family; the wife he adored, the children he loved and all of his happy life, all, all sacrificed on the altar of User Pays.
THE END
Also by Tabitha Ormiston-Smith
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