AFTER TUESDAY CLASSES, PETER WAS HUNGRY – and he stopped at Maccas. He saw Jimbo at the corner of the streets, dressed in his homeless garb, and harassing pedestrians at the traffic light for small-change…
‘… hey, look ‘who’ is back from the ‘dead’ -- after a ‘failed’ career as a Geog-teacher…?’
In the ‘other-Perth,’ Peter had framed the hobo for his brutal attack on Chinatown Wong where Jimbo was sentenced to a mental asylum – where he killed himself later on the rooftop – but had his ‘sequel’ in Perthland, and was back as his Geography teacher.
The destitute man ran over -- when he spotted the one-armed tween arriving at MacDonald front…
“Oii-Boss – you with DeLorean – you need a ‘carwash’…?”
“… sure why ‘not,’ Jimbo – so how is your sister keeping in Leonora?”
“She’s fine, I guess – haven’t seen Mary Lee for more than 10 years – but she’s there taking care of Ma…”
Peter left him with his mountain bicycle…
… normally he paid him $1 for the wash – but today Peter felt ‘generous’ and paid him $2, for his coverup ‘falls,’ where Jimbo ‘took’ it for him in the ‘other-Perth’ – the overjoyed poor drifter got straight-away to work with his rag and bottle of mineral water…
“Make sure it’s nice-and-sparkly when I get back – to go on my ‘next’ time-travel, Jimbo…”
The meth-addict flashed his black-teeth smile…
“No worries, Boss – I’ll do it spic-and-span…”
Peter entered the restaurant and ordered a Big Mac, fries and coke – and sat at the booth. His iPhone buzzed a notification…
… it was a text message from Bella ‘Frenchie’ Beaulieu.
… he had totally forgotten about her all day in school, while enviously focusing attention on those 2 ‘Tarzan-and-Jane’ – and Bella texted back that she was coming over to meet him, because she ‘missed’ him a lot, and thought about him the-whole-day…
He ate his burger and, was aroused when he recalling thoughts of the brief fling he had at the west-wing gym Boys room -- when he touched 'first-base' when they make-out…
‘… second-base too – with her puppies…’
He was then puzzled when remembered Sunday’s wee-night ‘visit’…
‘… did I have sex with her in her house…?’
… where he ‘some-how’ had sleepwalked into her bedroom – he can hardly ‘remember’ the details that happened over there but…
… he had deleted the ‘evidence’ on his home’s CCTV footage, this morning -- ‘where’ he had been out late and returning home at 4+ AM…
‘… ‘why’ can’t I remember…?’
He finished his Big Mac but he was still hungry – he refrained a 2nd order and waited for Bella to dine with her…
… he fiddled around his iPhone and recalled his other girlfriend(s) of ‘before’ – there was first, Janey in the other-Perth…
… and Jezebel Crowley – the UK ‘visitor’ from Perthland.
He was fuming to recall that his twin had ‘shot-them’ both dead in Perthland – missing his one-time golden opportunity of unimaginable riches into his brave-new-world had he gone-there – as A ‘BLOOD-BAG’ to save Belle’s grand-uncle, Sir Lord Stamford…
Peter surfed -- and googled ‘Jezebel-Crowley,’ to see -- IF SHE 'EXISTED' in this realm…
… true-enough, the teenaged socialite was there – in FLESH-AND-BLOOD in the UK…
Peter further read the ‘obituary’ -- that her grand-uncle Sir Lord Stamford Crowley had died at the age of 95, due to his blood-related disease, but…
… leaving behind his teenager grand-niece – AND HIS TWIN BROTHER, Sir Lord Amadeus Crowley…
‘What -- the old-man has A TWIN BROTHER…!!?’
The one-armed tween scoffed-and-sighed that he is ‘stuck’ in this looped-reality of Perth – and missed out his fortune building in the UK because…
… Jezebel Crowley of this realm DOESN’T KNOW HIM NOW – as currently, they both have ‘NOT’ CROSSED path 'here'…
‘… why-why-why is Lady-luck is ‘not’ at my side…?’
He was back depressed and felt like a useless handicap, who was ‘trapped’ in an adult-world, where they dictate decisions…
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‘… why doesn’t anyone ‘believe’ in me…?’
Peter DELETED THE EMAIL which he sent to Dr Jack Turner…
‘… that atheist scientist would ‘NOT’ BELIEVE ME EITHER that I’m from the bloody future – he will ‘not’ BUILD ME MY bloody robotic-arm…’
Peter’s self-esteem was further hindered to a dipping-low – when he thought of his mother – who was going TO SELL HIS-FATHER’S HOUSE soon…
‘… why-why-why are YOU ADULTS ‘DICTATING’ my life…!!?’
-O-
He looked up and saw Bella walking towards his booth – the tall, dark-haired teenager, who was dressed in racing-black leather, holding a red motorcycle Ducati helmet…
… her confident strides excited him – it was the way-and-attitude that his buoyant-self ‘was,’ – way-back, when he won the juniors schools’ championship before, he was crippled.
She sat opposite him and -- Peter asked how she was, and what she had been doing…
… she replied…
… since she was expelled a week from Stamford High – no-thanks to that nosey-Indian peon – Bella had been hitting the gym daily for her kickboxing classes, and been ‘lowkey,’ doing her ‘other’ discreet stuff at home…
Peter offered to buy her lunch – but she declined to say that she was a ‘vegan’ – and-that ‘sucked-out’ the excitement-in-life out of him, which reminded him of his fellow vegetarian mother…
… Bella offered to take him out for lunch to a restaurant across the street – although ‘not’ enthusiastic -- but’ he needed the company…
“… sure – I can eat…”
-O-
Outside McDonald's…
… they walked and talked – Bella held his single hand, as they chat…
‘… where is she talking me? What vegan restaurant was there in this corner…?’
… even if that place existed around the block, where was it, because it was his familiar ‘eating ground’ for years? ‘Why’ had he ‘not’ bumped to Bella before, where he would ‘recognize’ her as a senior from school…
… and, she too was even in the sports-photograph as Doug-and-Zoe’s sparing-team mate – group-taken with his PFC fame with blind-Janey, in the school’s annual yearbook…
… Bella’s mysterious-self intrigued him more…
They walked across a zebra crossing in the traffic light intersection – pedestrians were gawking at them…
… Peter was conscious of their stares – of a taller and confident teenager in full-black leather, holding his one-arm, while he was dressed in mere school-shorts uniform.
Bella pointed over with her helmet -- to the direction of a parked Ducati Panigale V4S superbike…
“That is my ride.”
‘… wow… she has her ‘own’ big bike when she is ‘only’ 14? Well – the super-rich makes their ‘own’ rules in every society…’
The bike was in front of a fine dining restaurant called Wildflower – that served Aboriginal cuisine…
… Peter did ‘not’ know what to expect as he had ‘not’ been in one – nor had known 'WHAT' THOSE indigenous people ate, other than bush game-meat of roos-and-crocs.
‘… no worries – you will love the chicken on their menu,” said Bella to the non-vegan.
-O-
Bella ordered an appetizer for Peter -- of Saltbush-and-mountain pepper squid – where the finicky Peter ate the seafood and discarded the grilled-veg…
… next came the chicken dish of Butter-fried Saltbush chook, which he enjoyed – as he accompanied by breaking-bread with her – while she ate a humble meal of tzatzizi spinach-based of Purslane yoghurt dip with sliced garlic French loaf, and drinking campfire-coffee…
… they both shared a dessert of Quiche-and-lemon myrtle-syrup cake.
Like a birds-of-a-feather, the rebellious youngsters both ‘bitched’ about the unfair school system for the next half-hour – before-long, they both flirted and philandered openly – while-since they both were being the ‘only’ whites in the restaurant, and they were ‘noticed’ by others to-be giggling near-hysterically…
… and, before they were thrown-away from the family-establishment for misbehaving -- the adolescents ‘toned’ it down, and changed-their subject of lustful conversation.
Bella then spoke extensively of her animal activist passion since she joined a Facebook Group a year ago, called ‘Teens-Rescue-Street-Animals-Of-Perth’ -- and since then, had been actively rescuing stray animals in her neighbourhoods…
… she noticed the worried-looking Peter -- was distracted and preoccupied into his ‘own’ world-of-thoughts…
“What’s wrong, Pete – why the long face… something the matter…?”
“No-nothing…”
“Tell me, what’s wrong – what’s bothering you?”
… after some moment of hesitance, he spoke in spite, almost choking and tearing-up…
“I don’t know, Bella… I think I’m losing it day-by-day – all the bad luck that is surrounding me, had been ‘choking’ me slowly to death ever since I became a bloody cripple… after my road accident – I can’t cope it much more by living in this bloody adult world with their rules-and-systems in place, to ‘quiet’ the handicaps -- that dictates my entire life – taking me away from my lost-cause dream of playing tennis, to be a world-class player and-all…
“… on top of that, my bloody mom wants to sell the house that my late-father had built for me -- because she is totally-useless and could ‘not’ bloody afford to manage to pay for house repairs.”
Peter then revealed the Walkers’ past ‘dirty-laundry’-- of his scheming mother who fought a lot with his father whom she-did-not-love when he was alive -- that drove him to gamble, so that he could afford a divorce-settlement in the future, just to-see-him -- as his mother always had threatened to take his sons away from his beloved father…
… he further antagonized his inspector-mother and her ‘minion,’ who was his ‘own’ twin, Paul -- who both were planning behind his back for years -- to sell ‘his’ rightful house, ever since his dad died…
Gritting his teeth, the one-armed Peter proclaimed…
“I won’t let them – even if they do succeed, I would ‘hang’ myself dead in my father’s house – and may MY GHOST WOULD THEN ‘HAUNT-AND-HOUND’ both my bloody mother and brother till the end-of-the-earth!”
“Please Peter, don’t talk like that – you’ll find a way…”
“What way is that…? Jesus, I can’t even bloody focus my game-plan – if those 2 ARE THERE SCHEMING behind my back!!?”
“I don’t know ‘what’ to say right now – probably, my UNCLE WILFORD COULD – and, would help you in some way, I guess…”
He was disconnected with her ‘vague’ solution – ‘why’ would her uncle do that for him? Another dead-end, just like Janey’s uncle – who wouldn’t ‘build’ him his bionic arm.
But, what-if her Uncle Wilford "DO" COULD help…
… in-fact, Jezebel’s Uncle Ford ‘did’ so – just like, in his LAST TIME-TRAVELLED to the destination of Perthland.
‘What-if ‘that,’ THERE WAS a ‘solution’…?’