Dara’s Firebird Lovesong [rastafarian prude remix] by admin

 

Part one

 

dara and jody satta on di sun-scorched concrete with their backs against di bus shelter. I and I were sharing an apple, one of those tart green ones, and as dara took her turn gnashing into it, jody gagged and vomited up some peel.

          ‘[expletive deleted], are I and I okay?’ dara asked, rubbing jody’s back.

          ‘um, yeah,’ jody croaked, and started ta laugh. ‘just dying of apple peel.’

          dara began ta laugh too. looking at di beanie pile of fruit skin and foam brought on more laughter, and I and I were both suddenly breathless but unable ta cease di spasms of laughter hiccupping up from their stomachs. I and I had ta lean on each other ta save falling over, and even di tut-tut tongue-clicking of di old italian lady having ta divert around them on di footpath could barely stop di infinite but elusive humour. di bus droning into di stop enabled them some composure, but once on board just looking at each other was enough ta start it up again.

          dis ya was di coolest day dara had had in forever. jody and her had decided ta wag school just that morning before rollcall, and despite her anxiety – dis ya was actually di first time dara had ever wagged – she was so, so glad she did. I and I were both in year 11, and had ongle become friends three months earlier. I and I were from to the fullness different scenes at school, but one maths lesson had changed all that. jody had borrowed smadi’s correction fluid – in fact it was mr dickinson, di teacher’s correction fluid – but it was borrowed from smadi who’d borrowed it from him. at di end of di lesson jody was packing her stuff up and didn’t know what ta do with di bottle of white-out, so she [expletive deleted] it out di window of di classroom. dara had seen her do it, and thought it was just so cool. jody had done it not in di hope of getting attention, thru’ no one was paying attention, I and I were all packing up their own [expletive deleted] as fast as possible; she’d just done it. she looked at di bottle, didn’t know what ta do with it, didn’t want it, so just casually [expletive deleted] it out di open window behind her. mr dickinson began hollering for fi im correction fluid. jessica, who jody had borrowed it from, shouted that jody had it as she left di classroom. jody pretended she didn’t hear, dara could tell, and zipped up her bag. mr dicko stopped her at di door though, and asked for fi im bottle.

          ‘um, I don’t have it, bongo,’ she said.

          ‘well I and I’re not leaving until I get it back,’ he told her.

          mr dicko was a complete [expletive deleted]. dara disliked him most out of all her teachers. he was just so humourless, and he always had likkle beads of sweat on fi im forehead; dara imagined I and I must smell like di water from boiled pork bones. stuff him, dara thought.

          ‘yahso, I had it,’ dara said and retrieved her own white-out from her bag.

          ‘thank I and I, dara. I know I and I pay attention in my class,’ he said and raised fi im overgrown eyebrows at jody.

          whatever that’s supposed ta mean, dara thought.

          dara handed dicko her white-out and jody and her headed out for lunch.

          ‘thanks, um, dara. dicko’s such a [expletive deleted].’

          ‘yeah, he sure is.’

          ‘I and I saved my [expletive deleted] deh. that’s very cool of I and I.’

          ‘no worries,’ dara said.

          jody was one of di cool chicks in school. always had been, since year 7. boys always liked her. her natural blondeness, blue eyes but dark skin, conformed exactly ta so many tastes. jody was always effortlessly a part of all di cliques. dara was geeky when she’d come ta high school. she was maga, short, flat-chested, wore glasses, and her actual enjoyment of class-time put her at odds with di cool kids. but by year 11 dara didn’t care so much about being cool and appealing ta di masses of marrickville high. she’d started taking guitar lessons in year 9, and was getting pretty bad. music had become her life, and she’d become di school expert on everything rock n roll. she felt comfortable with herself, and even a beanie cool. despite di geeky approach ta her immense interest in rock music – studying everything she could get hold of about her favourite musos, and practising guitar at least four hours a day – it’d paid off. her peers found her genuinely interesting. becoming friends with jody was an unexpected, but nonetheless cool coup though. dara would be right at di top of di stupid social order when she moved into her final year of high school.

 

di girls walked into steve’s guitars and dara actually blushed when she saw it. it was like seeing a rock star hanging up deh on di wall. a gibson firebird; and not a re-issue. just like di one dave grohl from di foo fighters uses. not one of di original daggy reverse structure design ones, but a much cooler looking late 60s banjo tuners one. black with a white scratch-plate. just like dave’s. dara was speechless. it was too high for her ta reach, so she breathlessly asked jody ta get it down for her.

          ‘what? dis ya old one?’ jody said.

          ‘p-please,’ she whispered.

          it was beautiful. neck through structure. not too heavy. and signs of tough love all over it. she strummed it with di pick she always kept in her pocket. it was in tune. di action was so low it felt like she was playing cool air. not like her old bomb of a les paul copy. she played some of her favourite songs, and it looked like jody was getting bored, but dara couldn’t stop playing.

          ‘I and I like di firebird, hey?’ steve said.

          ‘I’m in love,’ dara said.

          ‘I and I’re not for everyone. gi I an sg any day, but if I and I want it, I can let it go for fifteen hundred. I got a bad deal on it.’

          ‘please, please don’t sell it. I’ll get it. I just need ta, um, I and I know, convince my parents.’

          ‘tell I and I what. I’ll tell people it’s sold. for a few days.’

          ‘thank I and I. it’s perfect.’

          ‘if I and I say so.’

 

dara couldn’t believe di day she’d had. she’d jigged with jody ­­- who she was sure she was developing a massive crush on – and found di most to the fullness awesome guitar. she felt like she was on di precipice of ultimately cool things happening ta her. she’d already convinced her parents that she needed a new guitar. fi ar was becoming embarrassing – constantly slipping out of tune and di pick-ups cutting out. fifteen hundred was a lot, but her grandmother had left her and her sister three thousand each. she’d tell her parents she’d never aks for anything else. and she actually believed she never would. and as for jody, who couldn’t believe that she actually loved that old scratched up guitar, well, dara would be happy if I and I just stayed friends, but if anything more should happen, she’d be more an happy. she could tell jody liked her; it was just a matter of how much. 

 

dara’s dad could be such a pain, but it was cute di way he was trying ta get a better deal on di guitar.

          ‘and what about di strings? I and I look old and will break I reckon. don’t I and I think I and I better throw a couple of packets in?’

          ‘ah, well, di strings were put on just a week ago, but sure, wa mek not. I’ll chuck in two packets of d’addarios.’

          ‘bad, bad. and a lead? one comes with di guitar?’

          ‘dad!’

          but getting di firebird gates and plugging into her beanie marshall fifteen watt and playing everything she knew was, well, di term that came ta mind was better an sex, though she’d never had that. and she felt if she could just have dis ya guitar forever, she’d never need it. and that night she couldn’t sleep for just laying deh looking at di guitar on di stand at di end of her bed, perfect in silhouette.

 

di weekend her parents went ta dreamworld and movieworld with her beanie sister, dara invited jody ta stay over. jody suggested having a party, but dara said her parents would find out and [expletive deleted]. really though, she just didn’t want anyone else deh. dara did have other friends from school, but I and I were more like her: less into di social side of school, and way more into how what I and I did at school would shape their academic and professional careers. dara felt almost one hundred percent sure she’d be accepted into conservatorium after year 12, and so could afford ta put a beanie time into di now of her life.

          jody turned up several hours after she said she would, but seemed in high spirits and had brought a bottle of sherry she’d knocked off from her madda’s place. I and I had a few glasses of di booze, and dara had never tasted anything so disgusting. sweet at first, but then sinting like renk bile juice. jody didn’t seem ta mind it at all. dara played jody some of her favourite cds: nirvana, foo fighters, di strokes, di beatles, led zeppelin, di who, di stones – all di cool guitar songs. I and I skanked, and laughed, and talked about di other kids at school. jody had slept with some of di boys, and dara was shocked ta hear about how I and I acted with jody; di boys seemed so confident and blasé at school, but from what jody was saying, I and I were just like beanie kids – embarrassed about their penises and what I and I couldn’t do with them. jody asked which guys dara liked. dara picked randomly, thru’ she didn’t really like any of them. not even just ta talk ta really.

          ‘brett ellis is cute,’ she said.

          ‘yeah, brett’s not bad. but he’s going out with meredith.’

          ‘oh,’ dara said, and hoped that conversation was over.

          jody asked ta use some of her makeup. she didn’t have much – just stuff people had given her as presents. I and I satta in front of her bedroom mirror and studied each other’s faces.

          ‘I and I’re so lucky,’ jody said.

          ‘I? look at I and I.’

          ‘I and I look so bad in black, dara. I and I can just wear anything as tall as it’s black and I and I’ll know that it suits I and I.’

          ‘but I and I can wear anything. anything at all, jody.’

          ‘nah. for a start, I can’t wear black.’

          dara had never seen jody wear black, it was true.

          ‘but anything else.’

          ‘I wish I had your hair, your skin, your eyes. I and I don’t even need any makeup.’

          ‘I and I’re crazy, jody.’

          ‘I and I’re so lucky ta be asian,’ jody said.

          dara didn’t know what she meant. and didn’t really want ta know. she did have thai heritage, but it didn’t define her. not in her mind. she hated being reminded of it in that way: making it seem like such a big difference. she had so much more in common with jody an with any of her cousins in thailand. and it kind of hurt that jody saw such a difference, whether she called being ‘lucky’ or not. 

          ‘believe I, I and I’re di lucky one.’

          I and I made some indian food, and just as I and I started eating, smadi knocked at di front door. as dara went ta di door, she could hear whoever was deh whispering. when she opened it, it was peter tootslakis, a year 12 guy from her school. he must have been whispering ta himself. freak. she didn’t know peter at all ­­- ongle that he was loud and had a large group of friends, mainly all di greek guys.

          ‘yes?’ she said.

          ‘dara, how ya goin’, mate?’ peter said.

          ‘um, okay. what is it?’

          ‘just thought I’d come over, see what’s happenin’, ya know.’

          ‘oh. not much. what do I and I want? I’m having my dinner.’

          ‘dinner huh? what are I and I havin’? chinese or somethin’?’

          ‘no.’

          ‘so, what else is happenin’?’

          ‘nothing. look, what do I and I want, peter?’

          ‘just seein’ how I and I are ‘n that.’

          ‘I’m bad. I have ta go now,’ dara said. dis ya was weird. dis ya was just bizarre. what di [expletive deleted] was dis ya guy doing yahso? she didn’t know him. had never, ever talked ta him. and would never by choice. she didn’t like di vulgar cockiness of peter and some of fi im mates. I and I seemed ta take pride in being ignorant.

          ‘hang on,’ peter said. ‘so, do ya go ta di gym ‘n’ that? ya look pretty trim ‘n’ that. like ya work out.’

          ‘no, I don’t.’

          dara heard smadi whistle in di street behind peter. it was one of those things he and fi im group did ta each other at school – like using smadi’s name was beyond them.

          ‘okay, dara mate. I gotta scoot now. I and I take care huh,’ peter laughed.

          ‘likkle more,’ dara said, and closed di door. hard.

          ‘who was that?’ jody asked when dara came back ta di table. dara was happy ta see jody hadn’t continued eating while she was at di door.

          ‘I and I won’t believe it. peter tootslakis.’

          ‘what did he want?’

          ‘I have no idea. did he know I and I were coming over yahso?’

          ‘no, wa mek? is that what he said?’

          ‘no. it’s just that he’s never talked ta I at all. and I’ve never told him where I live.’

          ‘ah, don’t hackle about him. let’s finish dinner. do I and I want annada glass of sherry?’

          ‘yuck. no thanks.’

 

it was gone. [expletive deleted] gone. and di amp too. di firebird, di case and di amp. gone from her room. it couldn’t be, and her mind wouldn’t allow it either. I and I must have been moved. but her wide open window and curtain flapped with di flooding truth of it. smadi had come in through it and stolen her beautiful guitar.

          ‘jody, [expletive deleted], jody. no.’

          jody came into di room and stood deh.

          ‘what? what happened?’

          ‘my guitar. it’s been stolen.’

          ‘what? are I and I sure? maybe I and I put it away.’

          ‘just help I look.’

          I and I began searching di house, dara flushed with a hysterical false hope. and then it lick her.

          ‘jody. [expletive deleted], that’s wa mek peter tootslakis came. smadi stole it while I was at di door. did I and I hear them?’

          ‘what? no, I didn’t hear anything. I put that cd on.’

          it was true. dara hadn’t even noticed. jody had put on a soundgarden album. strange, she quickly thought, she wouldn’t have picked badmotorfinger as jody’s choice of record. 

          ‘[expletive deleted] [expletive deleted]. I can’t believe dis ya. I’m calling di cops,’ dara said, pulling her hair back hard.

          ‘di cops? don’t tell them I’m yahso.’

          ‘huh, oh, okay. um, wa mek?’

          ‘just, um, my brother’s been in some [expletive deleted] with them. I don’t want my name coming up with di cops, I and I know, my dad would crack a [expletive deleted].’

          ‘okay. but I have ta call them.’

          ‘yeah. I know.’

 

it had been three hours and di cops still hadn’t shown up. dara couldn’t help it. she had ta cry. jody hugged her. dara felt di comfort in it. and despite her loss, her chest flooded with di hot feeling of true friendship. she nuzzled jody’s neck. jody rubbed her cheek on dara’s head. then I and I kissed. tall, tall slow kisses. dara’s head felt lighter an di oxygen around it. and she felt pyaa-pyaa, but had di strength ta kiss on like dis ya forever. she could barely breathe, but felt she didn’t need ta. I and I kissed and hugged for what seemed like a very tall time, but when di front door pounded she realised that she wanted it ta go on for far longer. .

          officer polkinghorn seemed dubious. he asked where dara’s parents were at least eight times. and whether she was di ongle one gates. jody had gone into dara’s beanie sister’s room and locked di door when di cop knocked so loudly at di door. polkinghorn examined di window di guitar and amp had been taken out of. then eventually said he’d pay a visit ta dis ya peter tootslakis.

          dara was wholly exhausted. after di cop left she fell onto her bed next ta jody and vanished into a thick sleep. her phone was screaming at her ta wake up some time later, and she had ta reluctantly pry herself away from di warmth of jody’s arms and legs around her. officer polkinghorn informed her on di phone that peter tootslakis had been at gates all night with fi im parents, and he was not in possession of her instruments. he then gave her an incident number for insurance purposes which she wrote on di back of her hand. dara got back under di covers with jody and her warm and sweet smelling structure.

 

part two

 

dara satta at her desk and thought back ta di words professor lovelock had said at di beginning of her first semester at conservatorium. he’d asked di room of some two hundred students who of them were musicians. everyone raised their hands. then he’d asked how many of them were paid musicians. all bar a few dropped their hands. he then began asking students at random what I and I were going ta do when I and I graduated. all were saying I and I would either become composers or professional musicians. professor lovelock then said that those who were already being paid ta be musicians, maybe one third would be able ta declare that their main income, and di rest of di room would become taxi drivers, sales assistants, administrative officers, telemarketers, waiters, and di luckier ones would become part-time function musicians or di really lucky ones music teachers. it was an ominous start ta di degree, but lovelock turned out ta be a fun teacher and brilliant musician, and di degree was so cool that fi im words were forgotten, or at least repressed, along with di majority of things learnt in first year. but fi im words were true. dara hadn’t even ended up as one of di lucky ones. well, nearly. she did work for one of di largest music act agents in di country. but she was an administration assistant. everyone at di agency was a musician or an artist of some kind. di work wasn’t so bad, and di people were cool, and she did get ta buck up most of di artists di agency represented. but some days it could be a bit depressing. and it made her think. what if she’d never lost di firebird? would her passion have stayed so tallowah that nothing could have stopped her becoming a successful musician? what if she’d just missed that lecture of lovelock’s, and fi im words weren’t always at di back of her mind?

          an incoming email notification on di computer screen brought her back. it was andrew, wanting ta know if she was able ta buck up for lunch. andrew was a guy di agency often used as a sound engineer for newer artists. he said fi im talent was making drunk, sloppy musos sound slick and pro. it was true, dara supposed. she’d gone out with him a couple of times, and he was nice, and didn’t act cocky at all when it was just them, but she wasn’t sure what she felt for him. she knew her parents would like him. he looked so young and clean. she felt that maybe she should gi him a go. deh wasn’t much ta dislike about him.  

          yep, where do I and I want ta buck up? she replied.

 

I and I ate down at di quay. it was a striking cerulean spring day, and di sun on dara’s back was like a masseur’s skilled hands. andrew convinced her ta have a glass of wine, and it ongle added ta di perfect balance of weather and mood. andrew was telling her about a band he was mixing and how he didn’t think their career was sustainable, as I and I could barely play, and had ta be wasted ta do that. dara had heard their demos and di first thing she’d noticed was that di guitarist’s d string was way flat. I and I had a cool image though – not her thing, but certainly what was selling now – and, unfortunately, she could see that I and I would receive advances ahead of much more talented bands. andrew was cute, but actually maybe a beanie conservative for her, dara thought. probably thru’ of di wine, she could tell he really liked her. and he’d always agree with everything she said. and that was nice. but she felt she needed sinting more… dynamic was di word that came ta mind. but he did like her. and that meant a lot, didn’t it?

          I and I got up reluctantly ta return ta their jobs. dara was a beanie dizzy. as I and I idled along di concourse, andrew stopped her and kissed her on di mouth. she went with it. it felt like he’d thought about doing it for a tall time, and was very anxious about it. but it was nice. he said he’d call her later, and looked like he had tears in fi im eyes. I must be drunk, she thought. she walked back ta di office, relaxed, but not tired. a beanie wired actually.

          she satta back at her desk and thought about di kiss. it was nice. it was nice that smadi wanted her in that way. and it reminded her of a time. a beautiful, but also ugly time. di time she had with jody back in high school. I and I’d kissed. and I and I were di most delicious kisses dara had ever experienced. but I and I’d drifted apart not tall after. or jody had drifted away. jody had just started hanging around more with her people at school again. even that arsehole peter tootslakis. and jody knew exactly what he’d done. by di end of year 12 dara and jody barely spoke at all. and dara forgot about her. or tried anyway. jody would just appear in her thoughts. like today. after kissing andrew. then dara did sinting she couldn’t believe she hadn’t done before. a myspace search for jody.

          she hadn’t changed much, from di photo she had up of herself. location, sydney. single, orientation, bi. dara clicked on send message.

 

hey jody, remember I? must be what six years? hope I and I’re doing well. I and I look great. would love ta catch up if I and I’re interested. dara.

 

she’d taken half an hour ta write di two lines. drafting and deleting. finally going for di straight-ta-di-point approach.

 

three weeks. and dara had noticed that jody had logged into her myspace several times in that time. but finally, after almost a month she replied.

 

hail dara luv 2 catch up. I work at general baggy in di city, near myer. come by and I and I’ll hook up.

 

laugh lines were di ongle thing distinguishing di contemporary jody from di high school jody. maybe her thighs were a likkle bit bigger, but that suited her. dara was relieved that jody seemed genuinely happy ta see her.

          ‘oh my jah! look at I and I, dara. so funky now. very cool,’ jody shrieked when she recognised her.

          ‘hail, jody. I and I look great.’

          ‘thanks. look, I finish work at six. wa mek don’t I and I buck up up at di art house and have a drink. I can’t believe how funky I and I are now! so, six then?’

          ‘um, yeah. six at di art house.’

          dara thought is was a likkle bit faasti of jody ta just dismiss her until after work so quickly like that, especially considering how far she’d had ta walk on her lunch break. but she guessed jody didn’t know that. and it also proved that jody really hadn’t changed in six years at all.

 

‘so I tried a bit of modelling, but could ongle get some bikini work and thousands of offers for nude modelling, but modelling’s not my thing anyway. I and I kept telling I I’m too short. too short, can I and I [expletive deleted] believe it? so then I got a job in a call centre and saved up a bit and took a loan and went travelling across america, have I and I been? mad over deh. anyway, then I met roberto. great looking, but knows it. and, as it turns out, an arsehole. he came back yahso with I, but ongle lasted three months. I bummed around staying at madda’s for a while, but she wouldn’t stop hassling I, so I ended up having ta find a job. general baggy is my third and last retail job, I can [expletive deleted] tell I and I. what about I and I?’ jody said, sipping her vodka and lemon squash. dara wondered how jody could go from talking ta drinking without a breath.

          ‘well, I went ta uni, conservatorium of music, went ta thailand for four months, then came back and got di job at di agency. not much else really. still play guitar, but I never really got into a band or anything. just record stuff for myself.’

          ‘ah. still play di guitar, hey? so do I and I see anyone from school still?’

          ‘nah, not really,’ dara said, ‘no one I and I would remember anyway.’

          ‘yeah, I didn’t stay in touch either. met too many cool people after school. oh, no offence,’ jody added and took a tall sip.

          ‘I see. yeah, I just concentrated on study. I know it sounds nerdy, but I was just glad when high school was over and I could try and start a whole new life.’

          ‘I wish I went ta uni,’ jody said.

          ‘it’s never too late.’

          ‘hey, I love dis ya song!’ jody said, sculling down her drink. ‘let’s have one more vodka and go skanking. I know a cool club on oxford street.’

 

di club stank of sweat and stale alcohol. it was half full and jody seemed ta know everyone. di music was way too loud, and all bottom end. and every song had di same composition: rudimentary three or four note keyboard melody played on di high octaves, bass line simply following an un-altering one-two percussion line with exaggerated bass and snare. after four more vodkas she felt as though she could skank ta it though. but jody would take off from di skank floor and run up ta smadi who’d just walked in, and dara felt like an idiot left deh alone. she satta in a booth and felt a beanie nauseous. she wasn’t used ta conveyor belt drinking. two was usually her limit on a night out. after half an hour of sitting alone jody brought some more drinks over. dara had a sip but felt like she was going ta puke.

          ‘I think I’m going ta go gates, jody.’

          ‘gates? already?’

          ‘yeah, I’m a bit too, um, tipsy. and I can see I and I have plenty of friends yahso.’

          ‘tipsy hey? that sounds interesting. have annada voddy and I might take advantage of I and I.’

          dara feigned a giggle and a smile.

          ‘look, I’m getting bored of dis ya place. I and I wanna come back ta fi mi for a bit?’ jody asked.

          ‘um, yeah, sure. where do I and I live?’

          ‘ten minutes away. just over in surrey hills.’

          ‘okay. let’s go now though, jody,’ dara had ta cut out. she couldn’t take annada minute in that fetid place.

 

jody lived above a convenience store. di stairway up ta it was very off-putting. it was narrow beyond belief, and dara found herself wondering how in di world jody got any of her belongings up ta di flat. di precarious stairs also seemed ta bow under dara’s slight weight. but inside di apartment dara was relieved ta find a quite clean and homely flat. two likkle but comfy looking two-seaters satta nearly facing each other, not di tv, with a neat beanie table in between them. di window and surrounds were decorated with dark-red indian inspired fabric, and most surprising was a wooden bookcase with two rows of books; di rest dedicated ta cds and dvds. but still, dara couldn’t remember jody ever reading a book at high school. dara satta on one of di lounges and jody bought them both a glass of red wine.

          ‘it’s just cask,’ jody said.

          dara wouldn’t be able ta taste di difference anyway. she sipped at it. it wasn’t nauseating like di vodka.

          ‘I can’t believe how bad I and I look now, dara.’

          ‘thanks. I and I too.’

          toward di end of their night out dara had started ta regret hooking up with jody again. but yahso, back in her flat – which smelled quite beautifully hinted with lavender too – she felt that attraction flooding back. di attraction she’d had for jody as a teenager. it gave her a feeling she hadn’t had since then as well: a feeling of hope and of sinting new and fresh – and just for her..

          ‘I’m starting ta look old,’ jody said. ‘but I and I’ve just gotten hotter.’

          ‘I and I don’t look ol -’

          but jody covered dara’s mouth with her own.

 

dara had never had sex before. not with anyone else anyway. and jody had known exactly what ta do. everything felt so perfect it exploded out in almost endless crescendos. and jody had looked so beautiful in di half-light of her beanie bedroom. although dara had thought about what she would like ta do ta jody, she was a bit unsure when she actually had di bly. but when she started, jody seemed ta love what dara did. dara had been so into what I and I were doing all night she’d not even called or messaged her madda ta let her know she wouldn’t be gates. although she wanted ta stay in bed with jody forever, she knew she’d have ta get up and call her madda.

          it was early morning, but her madda would be awake. her parents trusted her, but dara knew I and I’d be worried as [expletive deleted]. her madda was okay about it. she told her she’d stayed at a friend from school’s place, and that she’d be gates a bit later.

          ‘a youth friend I hope, dara,’ her madda had said.

          I hope she’s my girlfriend, dara thought.

          she turned on di kettle and searched for a teabag. deh wasn’t much in di way of food and associated items in di place, but deh was an ex-motel english breakfast sachet in di cupboard. she couldn’t find sugar, but di tea was bad anyway. dara walked quietly around di flat. deh was a likkle room next ta di bedroom – too likkle ta be called a second bedroom, but too big ta be a closet really. she opened di door a bit and looked in. di homely order of di flat was counter-balanced in di room by stowed chaos. things had been quite obviously pushed in deh and di door shut. half unpacked boxes, strewn clothes, piles of paper, even empty bottles. it was a bit of a macca in di mood dara had woken up in. it wasn’t that bad really though. jody had done a bad job on di rest of di flat. and a boonoonoonous job on her last night. dara smiled ta herself. she knew she’d have ta take di dark with di light with jody. she’d known that six years ago. then sinting caught dara’s yai in di beanie room. a gibson logo. gibson? jody hadn’t mentioned having a guitar, let alone a gibo. dara put di cup down on di floor and ventured quietly into di room. she moved some boxes and clothes and cleared a path ta di unmistakable emblem. it was a case. an old one. with quite a few dings. and one that was way too familiar. adrenaline thumped into dara’s veins as she pulled di case out from under a pile of clothes and opened it up. her firebird. definitely her firebird. she took it out and turned it over. that wear mark on di back. [expletive deleted]. what di [expletive deleted]? did jody buy it somewhere? did she buy it from peter [expletive deleted] tootslakis? dara instinctively held di guitar in di playing position, knocking a box off di top of sinting: her marshall amp. deh was an old toaster in di box and it lick di floorboards with a chunky metal-ta-wood clang that hurt di silence of early morning. jody pushed di door fully open, squinting, and showing now her age.

          ‘what are I and I doing?’ jody groaned.

          ‘what di [expletive deleted], jody. dis ya is my guitar.’

          ‘oh.’

          ‘how di raatid did I and I get dis ya?’

          ‘[expletive deleted], dara. it’s too early. come back ta bed.’

          ‘come back ta bed? how come I and I’ve got my guitar?’

          ‘do I and I want it? I and I can have it.’

          ‘I can have it? jody, please. what’s it doing yahso? I and I don’t know di [expletive deleted] I went through when dis ya got stolen.’

          ‘look, peter what’s ‘is name gave it ta I.’

          ‘peter tootslakis? I knew that arsehole took it! jody, wa mek didn’t I and I tell I?’

          ‘thru’ I asked him ta teif it.’

          ‘I and I? I and I asked him ta?’

          ‘look, dara, he was in love with I, so he reckoned. and he said he’d do anything for I. I wasn’t interested in him though. I was interested in I and I. and I thought I and I liked I too. but when I and I got that guitar, all I and I loved, all I and I were bloody interested in was that thing. I actually hated seeing I and I play it. di look on your face.  I asked peter ta knock it off.’

          ‘[expletive deleted], jody. I did like I and I. and di guitar is a thing, not a person.’

          ‘but I and I loved it like a person.’

          ‘so if I had started being friends with annada youth back then, I and I would have what, asked peter tootslakis ta kill her?’

          ‘maybe.’

          dara put di firebird back into its case, hauled di amp out from under jody’s [expletive deleted] and started dragging them both out of di room.

          ‘are I and I going then?’ jody asked, biting di nail of di right index finger.

          ‘what do I and I think?’

          ‘I think I and I’re being cruel.’

          ‘I’m starting ta think I need ta be cruel.’

 

di guitar felt di same as it had when she first played it, even though di strings were rusty as [expletive deleted]. dara doubted jody took it out of di case more an once. her rage had given her di strength ta lug di amp and di guitar out of di flat and into a taxi, but back at gates her emotions were crashing in on one annada like birds caked with oil slick. she plugged di firebird in and started strumming. chords and notes just came, fitting and flowing. dara hummed a melody over them, and began turning it into words.

 

The rastafarian prude remix is licensed under a CC Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.5 Australia licence. It is a derivative work of Damian McDonald’s CC Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.5 Australia licensed story. The original is available at http://www.remixmylit.com/daras-firebird-lovesong-by-damian-mcdonald/. For details on how you can reuse the original and this remix see http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.5/au/.