MENNIE SCAPENS
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Sorting Things Out
Aunty Reenie looks nothing like her mum. She is tall, skinny and freckled, she usually wears jeans. Aunty Reenie doesn’t do dresses. She’s a no-nonsense person, and it feels kind of good to sit and listen to her talk on the phone to the arseholes at Baycorp and Telecom who’ve been hassling Lana for weeks about the outstanding accounts. Reenie uses her teacher’s voice with them, her friendly one, and whoever’s on the other end of the phone listens to her, shows her some respect. People don’t talk down to Reenie. Although both times, they want to talk to Lana first to get her permission before they’ll speak with her aunt about the accounts. Lana answers their questions about her date of birth and her mailing address – all that usual Privacy Act bullshit – then she’s more than happy to hand the receiver back to Reenie. She finds it hard to keep track of the things Reenie talks about with them. Balances and contract terms; penalties and disconnection fees. It’s like some other language and her mind keeps wandering off.
Although she does like the bit when she hears Reenie tell the people on the end of the phone that she hopes to have the accounts settled within a couple of weeks. Maybe there’s hope yet.
Same thing happens at the bank. Reenie does all the talking, and Lana stands by and watches while she and the teller cancel the direct debits and automatic payments and whatever else keeps Lana’s bank account empty. She’s feeling more and more tired – that fuzzy grey tired – as the day progresses.
Aunty Reenie leaves the courthouse till last. The bitch at the fines desk looks over her glasses at them. Lana feels the urge to run, takes a step back, remembers why she has taken to avoiding the place. Reenie doesn’t seem fazed at all. But then it isn’t her that owes all the bloody money, is it?
The bitch prints out the list of fines. ‘Almost $7,000,’ Aunty Reenie says. Lana watches her aunt run her finger down the list that is longer than one page. ‘No warrant, no rego, no rego, no warrant, no rego, etcetera, etcetera,’ she says.
‘Lana’s had a tough year,’ Aunty Reenie says to the bitch. ‘She lost her mum a few months back, and now she’s got herself into a bit of a financial pickle. It’s taken quite a toll on her. Physically, she’s been sick most of the winter, can’t seem to shake the flu, and emotionally, she’s got pretty low too.’ Reenie sends Lana a brief smile. It’s probably meant to be reassuring. Lana tries to maintain the numb feeling, but it’s hard with her aunt spelling things out like that. Her sorry life in a list. Tears well, then spill over. Still Reenie goes on. ‘Her doctor’s advised her to take a few months off work to help her get on top of things again, so now she’s on a sickness benefit.’
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