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an hour later he asked, ‘How did you go mate?’
    â€˜Good.’
    â€˜Many customers?’
    â€˜About twenty or something.’
    â€˜Beauty.’
    He seemed like he was in a pretty good mood and I didn’t steal anything or have the cops called on me so I asked, ‘Can I hang out for a while?’
    â€˜No worries.’
    â€˜Can I serve customers?’
    â€˜I can’t pay you mate.’
    I nodded and he said, ‘But you can take whatever you like.’
    I stayed for most of the day. Gary watched me serve customers as he talked on the phone. When I left I didn’t take anything more than what I’d come for, one DVD. He asked me if I wanted to come back again. I asked him if he could give me a reference. He nodded.

4
    The next morning I woke up and I could hear Run sucking down a bong and listening to 50 Cent. I sat up in one swift motion. Run pushed the bong toward me.
    â€˜Nah cuz, and turn that shit down,’ I said pushing it away and rubbing my eyes.
    â€˜What’s wrong with you?’
    â€˜I’ve got work to do, put on some Linton Kwesi Johnson tracks or something.’
    â€˜What type of work? If you’re dealing gear, I want in on that shit.’
    â€˜What you talking about dealing? You’ve been listening to too much gangsta music mahn.’
    â€˜I mean it, I want in if you’re selling anything.’
    â€˜Run, go have breakfast and go to school,’ I said. He was doing year twelve at Henley Beach High, where I went too and while Mum was glad that he hadn’t dropped out yet, he and I both knew he was only still going because he could get away with doing next to nothing. He’s pretty smart though and I knew that if he stopped being a smart-arse and half tried he would do alright.
    â€˜Lot of good school’s done you,’ he said before I grabbed the towel off the doorknob and went to the shower.
    Run was lying in bed with the covers over his head when I came back. I opened the cupboard and saw the shirt and slacks I’d worn to all the interviews. I grabbed the shirt, some jeans and the trendy black shoes. Gary wore a shirt and slacks and that.
    â€˜Where you going mate?’ Gary asked when I walked into the store early that morning.
    â€˜Nowhere,’ I said pulling on the band wrapped around my dreads.
    â€˜What do you want to do today?’ he asked.
    â€˜Same as yesterday,’ I said.
    â€˜But I can’t pay you mate,’ he reminded me.
    I grabbed the trolley and Gary pointed to the afterhours return shoot. It wasn’t like I had to rush or anything as I put DVDs back on the shelves and served customers. I just talked to them how I like to be talked to. I just said, ‘howdy’, ‘what’s your password?’ and ‘thanks’. Gary didn’t seem to mind. And then he said, ‘Next customer, I dare you to serve them using your Jamaican accent.’
    I raised my eyebrows at him. ‘For real?’
    â€˜Give it a go.’
    The next customer was a real serious looking fella with his young son and daughter. He could have been a copper or something.
    â€˜You sure?’ I whispered. Gary nodded.
    The fella’s kids ran around the shop pulling DVDs off the shelves and nagging him for them. Finally he stepped up to the counter about five minutes later with some films.
    â€˜Iri, mahn?’ I asked.
    The bloke nodded, looked at me a bit strange and handed me his membership card.
    â€˜What’s di password mahn?’ I asked throwing on the curling Jamaican accent.
    When I handed the DVDs to him I said, ‘Jah Rastafari, and good night to your yute,’ as I pumped my fist to my chest before giving the fella’s kids the peace sign.
    Gary winked at me and said, ‘You’re a fair dinkum West Indian aren’t ya?’
    Â°Â°Â°
    The second week I helped Gary out, I took some Centrelink forms with me … they were hassling me again. I