Care Factor Zero by Margaret Clark Read Free Book Online

going on in their heads, where they lived, what they did all day long. It wasn’t the end of a working day, so these were either shift workers or on the dole or the retired rich. No, not the retired rich: they drove cars or hailed taxis. They didn’t catch trams. One woman clutching four large plastic bags rocked with the motion of the tram, jabbering to herself, afleck of spittle on her lips. She looked dirty and unwashed, a piece of human garbage on a city tram. Will that be me one day? Larceny thought, shuddering.
    ‘So,’ said Lynx, breaking into her thoughts, as Frantik looked out the window and Bex mauled Comma, ‘tell me about yourself.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘All right, all right. Don’t get shitty. You don’t have to. I’ll tell you about me .’
    ‘What if I don’t want to listen?’
    Larceny didn’t mind hearing other people’s stories. Some kids could spin good shit. But she never got emotionally involved. And she didn’t like to reveal much about herself. People sometimes wanted to get closer: she didn’t let them. Once she started showing any weakness or emotional need they would want something back from her, more and more: emotional stuff she couldn’t give. It was too scary. If you did begin to care about someone they would ultimately reject you.
    Hidden memories that Larceny couldn’t erase began to surface. Her dad. Those stepsisters with their big blue eyes, blonde hair, and cute ways that made her want to throw up, to punch themand hurt them for being Dad’s little angels. That’s what he called them. His little angels.
    ‘Put your fingers in your ears, I don’t care. I’m still gonna tell you about me anyway,’ said Lynx butting into her thoughts, his chocolate eyes like deep river pools in his dark face. She’d seen river pools when she’d escaped from one of her foster homes. So nice, the Frasers, or was it the Wilsons? So many foster families; they got mixed up in her head. Then she remembered. The Wilsons. A regular Brady Bunch family. Christians. Good people. Didn’t yell, didn’t swear, sat at the meal table sharing conversation, their lives, with her. Only she didn’t want to share.
    ‘Why me ?’ she’d shouted at them when they’d tried to come too close and get into her head. She’d picked up her roast dinner and flung it at the wall. The plate had shattered, spattering meat, vegetables and gravy all over the place. They’d all stared in horror at the mess, then at her with fear in their eyes. That had made her even madder.
    ‘Why can’t you just get on with your lives and leave me alone?’ she’d shrieked.
    She’d rushed from the house, their fear shaking her last vestige of solidarity, their Brady Bunch niceness too cloyingly suffocating. She’d run through the parkto the river and flung herself face down on the bank. She’d stared at the brown sluggish water until she was mesmerised. The treacle-deep pool below called to her seductively, luring her into its depths. Silently waiting, it reminded her of the brown sugar she’d once smoked in a cig. Chasing the Dragon, the Cambodian guy had called it. You felt a rush, then dreamy, seduced by the heroin, lulled into euphoria. The thick and syrupy pool promised a deeper oblivion.
    ‘LARCENY! NO!’ It is not God’s will!’ Mr Wilson had yelled, rushing up from behind and pulling her back from the brink.
    ‘It’s my will!’ she’d shrieked, as he’d dragged her kicking and screaming back to the house. She’d rocked backwards and forwards, muttering and gibbering until the ambulance arrived to take her back to the psych ward.
    Funny thing, that. You weren’t allowed to kill yourself! Why not? Who really cared?
    ‘You with me, Larceny?’
    Lynx’s voice shattered her thoughts, sending them scattering back into the dark recesses of her mind.
    ‘Yeah, yeah.’
    ‘So, I decided that I wanted to get out of that orphanage and fast. I was going nowhere.’
    ‘What orphanage?’
    ‘I knew you weren’t