‘So this is where the Grey Man lives. It’s a bit grim don’t you think?’
Julia pinched me. ‘Cam, how can you say such a thing. It’s a heritage building. Compared to my flat this is a frickin’ mansion.’
The place definitely had some old world charm. It was one those two-storey terrace houses that were home to working class families in the old days. Nowadays a place like this would cost you an arm and a leg and a good portion of your torso.
The front of the house was a depressing grey. The window frames were a darker shade of grey. Even the railings of the little wrought-iron fence were painted grey.
I approached the front door, painted, surprise surprise, in grey. I pressed the intercom.
’State your business,’ came a monotone voice from the intercom.
‘It’s Cameron and Julia. We’re here about the special mission.’
A mechanical click came from the doorknob. I pushed at the door and it opened. I winked at Julia and we stepped inside. We walked down a darkened hallway that opened out into a darkened room. A ceiling fan rotated slowly. The room appeared empty.
‘Velcome,’ said a husky voice from the shadows.
‘Shit,’ I said, gripping Julia’s arm tightly.
The Grey Man was slouching on a chair in the corner, looking like a discarded cloak.
‘Zit down, my friends,’ he said, lighting up a cigarette and offering us one.
Not one to knock back a freebie I took up his offer. The Grey Man lit my cigarette with a diamond encrusted lighter that sparkled in the flame.
The cigarette was one of those slim European ones. Man, didn’t it pack a punch. I coughed and spluttered so much that Julia had to slap me on the back. We took our seats at a small table.
‘Look at zis,’ the Grey Man said, tossing a thick magazine on the table.
‘With all this moody lighting it’s a bit hard to see,’ I said.
The Grey Man chuckled mirthlessly and flicked a switch under the table. The room lit up like an operating theatre. I studied the Grey Man’s face. Grey eyes and colourless lips on an ashen grey face. If he wasn’t smoking you’d swear he was dead.
Julia was gazing wide eyed at the walls that were adorned with works of art, old swords, medals and shelves with loads of old coins.
‘Impressive, no?’ said the Grey Man.
‘Impressive, yes. Denarii from Persia, coins from Greece, Rome, and early United States,’ said Julia, the history nerd in her coming to the fore.
‘My taste is good, no? But look at zis. Vot you think?’ The Grey Man opened to a page of the magazine and with his wizened index finger tapped on a photo of a red coin.
‘Zis, is red penny. Only minted vun year. In 1929.’
‘Why red?’
‘Legend has it zat thief broke into mint and voz shot by guards. He fell into vat and his blood is mixed into alloy. Apparently coins it made looked so beautiful zay issued zem anyway. But zat is beside ze point. Vun of zese sold at auction last year for two million. I must have it and have crazy plan to get it. Zat’s where you two come in.’
I stiffened with pride that we should be wanted for such a task. ‘Why us?’
‘I heard vot you did in Venice.’
I had no idea what he was talking about. I shot Julia a sideways glance and mouthed Venice? but she kept her gaze on the Grey Man. ‘What if we refuse?’ she asked.
The Grey Man clicked his tongue. ‘If you refuse, I’ll tip off authorities about dodgy immigration lawyer you hired. Your cute Italian ass vill be deported back to Rome quicker than you can say chicken scaloppini.’
‘How dare you,’ Julia said. She spat in the Grey Man’s face. I never loved Julia so much as I did at the moment. The Grey Man took a grey silk handkerchief from his jacket pocket and calmly wiped the spittle from his cheek.
‘Have it your way…’
‘No, wait. We’ll do it,’ I said. The thought of Julia being sent back to Italy was unbearable.
Julia’s face flared like a bull at a smarmy matador but even she must have realised the Grey Man had us over a barrel. ‘Whatever,’ she said with a shrug.
‘Zat’s more like it,’ the Grey Man said. ‘Now come viz me for quick history lesson.’
We followed the Grey Man’s gaunt figure to a modern annexe at the back of the house. A bald man with a bushy beard and thick glasses wearing a white lab coat and a bad tie sat hunched in front of a bank of computer screens.
‘Zis is Max, my technical expert. Max, meet my volunteers, Julia and Cameron.’ Max rubbed his hands in glee, and mumbled something about guinea pigs. He picked up a cardboard box and followed the Grey Man out the back door.
The little backyard had a table setting and was landscaped with cheap ferns and artificial grass. An old outhouse still stood next to the back paling fence. The Grey Man made a sweeping gesture at the nearby houses. ‘Look at all zis. Houses here are nice, no?’
It was certainly true. One house had a mini forest-like garden with wisteria creeping up the walls. The other houses were beautifully renovated.
‘But vasn’t always like zis. In 1930 zis place was a dump. It was Depression and many out of verk. Zere were brothels, sly-grog shops and gambling dens. Zere was vun particularly notorious two-up school known as Ze House of ze Falling Moon.’
The Grey Man’s local history lesson metamorphosed into his plan for recovering the red penny. When he finished talking I could barely think. This guy must be some kind of lunatic.
‘So let me get this straight,’ I said. ‘You want us to steal-’
‘Transfer ownership. Steal is not nice vord…’ interrupted the Grey Man.
‘Okay, you want us to transfer ownership of a red penny from a dodgy crime syndicate at The House of the Falling Moon in East Sydney…from nearly 100 years in the past?’
‘More or less.’
‘Are you insane?’
‘Shh. Please don’t disturb neighbours viz uncouth expressions. Zis is respectable neighbourhood now.’
‘This might be a stupid question,’ Julia asked, ‘but how the hell do we travel back in time?’
‘Ze Time Dunny.’
‘Huh?’
‘Max, please explain to our friends how ze Time Dunny verks.’
Max put the cardboard box down, fished around inside it and handed us two small devices that looked like TV remotes. He opened the door of the outhouse and pointed to the antique dunny can and said, ‘This is the Time Dunny – the only Time Machine in existence as far as we know. To operate, you lift the lid, step onto the top of the dunny can and press the green button on the remote. And voila you’ll be back in 1930. It’s the same process on the way back when you want to return to the present day.’
Julia and I peered into the old dunny can. Thankfully it had been decommissioned from its original purpose many years ago although it now appeared be a sanctuary for spiders. This whole enterprise stank like I imagined this dunny used to.
We came out and The Grey Man passed me a folded sheet of paper. ‘It’s map showing ze way to House of ze Falling Moon. Also you’ll find your period costumes hanging up in wardrobe of the annexe.’
‘Period costumes?’ Julia said.
‘Zat’s right. You must blend in or bad guys vill…’ he ran a crooked finger slowly across his throat.
A chill ran down my spine. I instinctively massaged my throat. I was nervous enough using an electric shaver.
It was dark by the time I had changed and stepped into the backyard. ‘Nice outfit,’ I said when Julia came out. With her bowler hat, baggy trousers and walking stick, she bore a more than passing resemblance to Charlie Chaplin, right down to the false moustache.
‘Why do I have to be a man?’ Julia complained.
‘Ve don’t vont you drawing attention to yourself. Just speak viz deep voice and you’ll be fine,’ said the Grey Man.
‘And why am I in a sailor’s outfit?’ I said.
‘Sailors are alvays at two-up schools. No vun vill suspect you.’
I took off my cap. HMAS Boomerang was emblazoned on the band. Hopefully it would prove prophetic for our return from this crazy mission.
My knees were trembling when I stepped on top of the dunny can. I had a desperate urge to be anywhere but here. In fact I had a desperate urge to use the dunny. My finger hovered over the green button on the remote.
‘Vun more zing,’ the Grey Man added. ‘I forgot to mention it but you only have vun hour to complete task. If you come back after 9:00pm ze Time Dunny vill deactivate and you’ll be stuck in 1930 forever. Good luck!’
‘Thanks for telling me, you humourless bastard,’ I said. I took a good look at the Grey Man’s expressionless face and fantasised about pulverising it under my boot one day.
I pressed the remote. Green smoke filled my vision. My head spun like a disco ball. My body convulsed and twisted left and right. It felt like some kind of weird trip. Butterflies zoomed around my stomach and I had this terrible sensation of falling from an impossible height. I braced myself for impact but quite suddenly it stopped. I was still standing on the lid of the old dunny. But now the stench was unbearable.
I jumped off the dunny and Julia soon materialised on top of it. We opened the door of the outhouse to a very different looking backyard. The annexe was missing. There was a little vegetable garden and a small chook pen occupied the corner opposite the outhouse.
Julia opened the back gate and we stepped into the lane behind the house. ‘Julia,’ I said, ‘what happened in Venice? I’ve never even been to Venice.’
‘That’s a question for another time. Now hurry up,’ she said, sprinting up the lane.
I ran and caught up with her at the corner. A vintage motor car drove past. There were no skyscrapers to be seen. ‘We really are in 1930,’ I said.
Under the street lamp I studied the little map. ‘We are here,’ I said, pointing to the thin line indicating the lane. ‘So we turn left then the next right.’
‘Bloody hell, Cam. You’re looking at it upside down. It’s right then left. She pulled the map from my grip, turned it around and slapped it back in my hands.
‘Well spotted,’ I said.
‘Just shut up and follow me.’
We took a few side streets and alleyways before coming out onto William Street.
‘We’re in East Sydney,’ I announced.
‘As if I didn’t know that,’ Julia said.
’No need to get shirty.’
‘Shirty? We’ve got less than forty minutes to find this dodgy establishment, get past security, find a bloody red penny and get back again and you’re calling me shirty. Or maybe you want to get stuck in the 1930s forever. It’s not a very nice time by the way. There’s the Depression, the crooks, and…’ she sniffed the air, ‘a lot of these places still don’t have indoor plumbing. So suck it up, Cam and follow my instructions.’
We walked for another ten minutes but ended up back on William Street.
‘I’ve got it,’ exclaimed Julia. ‘This map doesn’t take into account the resumptions of 1928. There was no Gunsynd Street back then, it was Camomile Lane. It should be around the next block that way.’
‘Just as well you know your history,’ I said. Julia had only lived in Sydney for a year but knew more about its past than I did.
At the entrance to a laneway Julia crouched and whispered, ‘What do you make of it, Cam? Can you see the Cockatoo?’
I peered down the lane. ‘No cockatoos, just a man smoking a durry leaning against a fence looking up and down the street.’
‘That is the Cockatoo, you dunce. A Cockatoo is a look out for a two-up school.’
‘Ahh…’
A man approached the Cockatoo and exchanged a few words. The Cockatoo motioned with his thumb and the other man disappeared down a narrow lane.
‘Come on Cam. Time to get going. Remember, we are after a game of two-up, just act genuine.’
‘Got it.’
‘Nice night,’ Julia said to the Cockatoo in her most manly voice.
‘So it is,’ said the man, who by the sound of things must have swallowed a few razor blades for dinner.
‘A good night to see the stars. A good night for a falling moon I reckon,’ she said, staring down the darkened lane.
‘Third door on the right. And don’t cause no trouble,’ said the man, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing it directly in our faces.
A doorman guarded the entrance to the two-up school. He surveyed us closely then let us in saying we looked too stupid to be under cover cops.
We went up a set of stairs, each step creaking like a fat man’s coffin. A door at the top led to a crowded, smoky room that stunk of tobacco and men’s sweat. The smoke was so thick it was hard to make out the features of the punters who formed a circle around two people tossing coins.
One of the people in the circle was a woman in a dark green gown, her face thickly powdered to preserve its fading beauty.
A door at one end of the room opened and a big bald man caught the attention of the woman. She nodded then said in a husky voice, ‘Listen up, boys, I’ve got some business to attend to. Snowy Callaghan will take over for a while.’
A blond man with a scar from ear to chin stepped into the ring.
There were moans from the punters.
‘And don’t let me hear any complaints from you ratbags or else you’ll find yourself unable to wear spectacles like Wingnut Johnson here.’ She lifted the hat off a man at the front of the circle who was missing both ears. The men in the room shifted their feet and avoided the woman’s gaze. She went with the bald man into the room at the back.
‘Shit! Is that Tilly Devine?’ I whispered to Julia.
‘Sure is. There must be a safe in that room. The red penny’s probably in there.’
I turned my attention to the game. There were shouts and a clink of coins as people placed their bets.
‘Come in spinner,’ cried the boxer.
The spinner gave the kip a good flick and the two coins spiralled into the air.
‘Heads it is,’ cried the boxer and some punters cheered while others swore.
Julia elbowed me in the ribs.
‘Cam, look. Tilly Devine’s come back with that bald thug. It’s time we made our move.’
‘But the game’s getting really interesting.’
‘Cam! We’ve got twenty minutes to get back to our Time Dunny. Stop your gawking and come with me.’
‘Come in spinner…’
It was easy to steal ourselves away with everybody engrossed in the game. Julia pulled out a set of skeleton keys and got us inside the back room. She locked the door from the inside and switched on the light. Under the window was a Chubb combination safe. Julia took something out of her pocket that had rubber tubes coming out of it.
‘What’s that thing?’ I said.
‘A stethoscope. I always come prepared.’
Julia fitted the earpiece then placed the other end of the stethoscope against the door of the safe. She twisted the dial silently, her tongue protruding slightly from her lips, her dark eyes concentrating. She was the most beautiful safe cracker I’d ever seen.
‘Aha. I’ve got it,’ she said, swinging the door of the safe open.’
‘Julia, you’re a genius.’
‘There’s no time for flattery. Let’s see what’s in it.’
On the bottom shelf was a velvet case. I took it out and placed it on the table and unclasped the lid. I whistled. Julia whistled. Inside was a kip with two pennies in it. One was a standard penny – but the other glowed red like coal embers in a fire place. I’d never seen a coin like it.
We were still admiring the red penny when we heard someone turn the door handle. There was a bang and the door shook. ‘Open up this minute,’ said Tilly Devine. This was followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.
Julia rushed to the window and opened it. ‘Quick, Cam. Let’s get out of here.’
The door opened and two of Tilly Devine’s thugs burst into the room with Tilly close behind. ‘Give that back you parasites,’ she screeched before ordering the thugs: ‘Get those thieving bastards, they’re making off with the red penny.’
I tipped both pennies from the kip into my pocket and scampered out the window after Julia. A thug grabbed the sill and I slammed the window on his fingers. He screamed like a child.
Julia was already on the corrugated iron roof above the back verandah and I slid down and joined her, the roof bouncing like a trampoline.
We jumped to the balcony of the adjoining house just as another thug slid down. The verandah’s roof creaked under his weight before collapsing in a heap of twisted metal. A pitiful yelp emerged from the debris.
I followed Julia jumping from balcony to balcony. At the end of the row of houses we ran out of balconies.
‘Quick, in here,’ Julia said, stepping through an open window.
I climbed after her into a room lit by an eerie red light. There was a bed in the room with a couple getting it on. The man grunted and moaned under the blanket while the woman lay there stifling a yawn while staring up at the clock on the wall.
‘Beg your pardon,’ Julia mumbled.
‘Nice meeting you,’ I added, tiptoeing around the bed then bolting through the hallway and down the stairs.
The woman screamed.
On our way out the front door a barrel-chested doorman shouted, ‘Are you boys upsetting the staff? You lousy bastards…’
I heard the pounding steps of the doorman behind us. I turned around when he said, ‘And who the hell are you?’ Two of Tilly Devine’s thugs had followed us down the stairs and began grappling with the doorman.
We ran until we reached the lane at the back of the Grey Man’s future house. My legs were burning. I stopped to catch my breath.
Above, the sky was a deep navy blue. The Southern Cross had come out and Julia’s eyes seemed to sparkle in its light. Despite her false moustache and pin-striped suit, she had never looked more gorgeous.
‘Julia,’ I said, looking into her eyes.
‘Cam.’
We leaned in and our lips met. A shudder of excitement rippled through my veins.
A man’s gravelly voice ruined the moment. ‘Not so fast, lover boys.’ I turned around to see the Cockatoo from the House of the Falling Moon. He stepped out of the shadows holding an iron bar in one hand. Another thug stepped forward, Snowy Callaghan from the two-up game. He reached into his pocket and with a swift movement of his hand flicked open a very sharp looking cut-throat razor.
‘Just hand over the red penny and we can all go home in peace,’ said Snowy, giving the razor a few perfunctory swishes in the air.
I put my hand in my pocket to give him both the coins but stopped when Julia said, ‘No chance pal. You’ll have to come and get it for yourself.’
The thugs advanced towards us. I raised my hands in surrender but Julia took a purposeful stride forward, planted her walking stick firmly on the road then swung with both legs, collecting the Cockatoo on the side of the head, knocking him into a bunch of garbage cans.
Snowy slashed at me as I jumped back and I felt a sharp pain near my hip as the blade made contact. I grabbed my leg and my hand was soon wet with blood. I rolled out of the way of another slash that was so close it sliced the HMAS Boomerang band off my sailor’s cap.
I waited for Snowy to finish me off but from my left I heard a whoosh followed by a crack and a scream as Julia brought the walking stick down on Snowy’s head. The razor clattered onto the laneway.
‘Well done, Julia,’ I said.
‘Shit!’ she said, looking at her watch. ‘It’s 8:58pm. We’ve got two minutes to get back to safety.’ She ran down the lane to where the Grey Man’s house was.
I limped after her, hot pain stabbing at my left thigh. Those twenty yards seemed like a marathon but I managed to scramble through the back gate and into the tight confines of the outhouse.
The place stunk and I thought I was going to pass out.
‘Ten seconds to go,’ Julia screamed, helping me up onto the lip of the dunny can. ‘Remotes out,’ she said.
My foot slipped and landed in the sloshing swirl of shit at the bottom of the dunny.
‘And press…’
We stood together in the backyard dunny of the future. The smell was terrible. My left shoe and trouser leg were covered in shit.
The Grey Man was sitting at the outdoor table, smoking one of his European cigarettes. He had a bottle of red and some empty glasses on the table. Max stood behind him with a towel over his arm like a waiter.
‘I’d almost given up on you two. Take a seat…’ the Grey Man said. He screwed up his nose, ‘…down that end of the table if you don’t mind.’
I staggered over to the table and sat down, my left leg throbbing, blood oozing down my trouser leg.
‘Nasty. Best get yourself to doctor and have vound looked at,’ The Grey man said, raising an eyebrow.
‘All in a day’s work,’ I groaned.
‘Quite right. And it turned out to be a profitable day, no? Now show me red penny and ve’ll finalise deal.’
I put my hand in my pocket. It came straight out through the hole the Cockatoo had sliced with his razor.
What the hell?
I tapped all my pockets. The Grey Man must have noticed that the blood was draining from my face far faster than it was draining from my leg. I looked across at Julia and shrugged.
‘I…I must have lost it in the struggle. It would be in the street outside. You could send me back in time to get it.’
The Grey Man gave one of his colourless laughs. ‘Are you kidding? This is Time Machine, not Corolla. It von’t be ready to use again for eighteen months.’
‘Hang on,’ I said. There was an irritation in my left shoe. I assumed it was part of the contents of the dunny can but I eased my shoe off regardless. And sure enough, inside was a penny that must have slid down my trouser leg.
The Grey Man snatched it off me, wiped it on Max’s bad tie and held it up to the light. ‘Shit. Can’t you see? That’s not red penny,’ he said, a look of grey fury in his eyes.
It was the only coin I had. The red penny must have fallen out onto the street. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.’
The Grey Man snapped his fingers and Max produced a magnifying glass. He studied the coin carefully then his grim visage lightened. He even allowed himself a little chuckle. ‘Is not so bad. Zis, my friends, is 1930 proof penny, vun of only six ever made. Vun of zese fetched over vun million at auction a few years back. Max! Break out the champagne.’
‘The guests’ champagne?’
’No. The good stuff.’
As we sipped our champagne the Grey Man had Max fetch a thick leather-bound book from inside the house.
‘What’s this?’ I asked.
The Grey Man leafed through the book to a page with a story headed, ‘The Lost Olympic gold medal of Dionysus.’ It was a photo of an Ancient Greek urn depicting an Olympian with a medal around his neck. Behind him was a hideous creature with lots of one-eyed heads with mouths full of very sharp teeth.
‘Zis, my friends is your next adventure.’
Photo by Christofer Dalla Lana on Unsplash
