The Big Whatever Read Online Free PDF

the time I came back it had stalled, and try as I might I couldn’t start it again.
    â€œThat’s it,” I said. “It’s a job for a mechanic now.”
    Stan said, “I can’t stay here.” He turned to Cathy, “I’ll get us some transport,” and walked off towards Holbrook. Ten minutes later he was back with a newish Ford Falcon.
    â€œI’ll never get my organ into that ,” I said.
    â€œCome on,” Stan said, “we have to move. I have to move.”
    I looked at Cathy. “I can’t leave the Hammond. Or the car. We should let Stan go on while I get this looked at.”
    She looked me in the eye. I heard it coming: “Stan needs my help, Mel.” She put her hand on my shoulder, touched the side of my face. “Get the car fixed and meet us in Melbourne. Or buy yourself another car. Whatever you think, there’s plenty of money. I’ll make it up to you.”
    â€œBut where’ll we meet?”
    Stan said, “The George Hotel at St Kilda. The publican there’s staunch. We’ll get a couple of rooms.”
    Cathy said, “But we can’t leave the dope in your car, not if there’ll be a mechanic crawling all over it.”
    â€œI’ll stash it,” I said.
    She shook her head firmly. “Not a good idea. We’ll take it with us.”
    So we transferred the shit to the Falcon. Cathy and I split the money fifty-fifty. I took just an ounce of hash.
    Stan shook my hand, firmly, looked me in the eye. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for us. Get to Melbourne quick as you can. I’ll look after you down there. You’re solid, Mel, and I can dig it. Mind if I take the gun?”
    Cathy gave me a long, lingering, full-body-contact kiss. “See you in St Kilda.” And then they were gone.
    I was stuck in Holbrook until the next afternoon. The motor had a cracked head. But a good cat named Theo dugup a second-hand Holden head and put it all back together, better than it had ever been. Thanks, Theo – you have a mystical connection to the Holden 186 motor, my brother, and I salute you.
    I drove on for an hour then had to stop. The purple hearts, the acid, the grass, they’d all drained out of me and I came down hard, wide-eyed and exhausted at the same time. The few remaining molecules of dope in my system bounced around like pinballs, lighting up a frazzled nerve ending every now and then. Man, I was low. Friends, I was staring right into the big fucking infinite zero, the bardic abyss.
    In fact, I was somewhere near Albury. I pulled into the scrub and slept for a few hours, drove into Melbourne late that night and went straight to the George in St Kilda. There was no sign of Cathy and Stan.
    I put the book down and rubbed my eyes. It was one in the morning. Muffled music came from the main house. I set the kettle on the gas burner, toasted two pieces of bread, made a pot of tea, took it all over to the table. Ate a bite of toast, took a sip of tea, looked at the cover of the book again. I thought, how long since I’d had a ciggy? Nearly two years. I went to the kitchen drawer, got out the pack of B&Hs I kept on hand, lit one and drew deep. Two and a half years without a drink. I got the rum from the cupboard, took a swig straight from the bottle. I sat down, smoking the cig, drinking from the bottle, my mind racing. A gentle knock on my door.
    It was Anna. “I saw your light on,” she said. “You coming over for a joint?”
    I shook my head. “Thanks, not tonight.”
    She was stoned, and a bit pissed. She shrugged cutely, glanced at the ciggy burning in the ashtray, the bottle of rum. Then she peered more closely at me. “Are you all right?”
    I picked up the paperback. “You ever seen this?” I said.
    She walked over to the table, then shook her head slowly, smiling. Waiting for the joke.
    â€œIt’s about Max,” I said.
    She tilted her