When the time is right.
Don’t leave it too long.
I know, I know. Look, I’m nervous as it is. I know that I shouldn’t drag it out any longer and I keep meaning to tell her every time we meet but she’s so bloody excited about Minister Brasil coming to the event that I can’t tell her now. Maybe on the night when I’m in her good books. When it’s all worked out and I’ve proved myself. I gulp hard. Or after.
You don’t have to prove yourself to her, he says.
I don’t answer.
Is the minister really coming, he asks, and I hear the doubt in his tone.
You think I’d lie, that I’m some kind of con artist, I ask angrily, as Becky’s accusations return to me.
No, not in a bad way, just like, maybe you’re being hopeful and enjoying your time with her. Maybe you’re caught in a promise that you can’t keep. He studies me to see if he’s right. I just don’t want you digging yourself into anything you can’t get out of.
You sound like my mother. She keeps checking and checking over and over. She keeps calling and meeting with me to go over the details, like she doesn’t believe that I’m handling this.
She’s not dealing with the minister’s office directly, he asks, that suspicious tone entering his voice again.
No. I am. That way I get to act as a middle person. I get to talk to Carmencita more.
Allegra, he rubs his face. You’re stressing me out.
A fella rushes towards us, keys out, as if this is the first time he’s moved the van. Sorry sorry, moving it now, he says good-naturedly.
Another criminal off the streets, well done, Tristan says.
I don’t rise to him.
He pauses. Looks at me for a while. Are you okay.
I have to find a new place to stay. My lease is up. I didn’t get much sleep, I’m just … I sigh … tired.
Take a quick break then and let me show you something, it will cheer you up.
I can’t.
As he’s walking away, I give up.
Okay fine, I call after him, what do you want to show me.
We sit upstairs in his office. He hasn’t claimed Tony’s, even though it’s empty.
The game starts. Warden Wipeout. No blood. No violent beginning. It’s different.
He checks my face.
Don’t worry, I’ve made changes, he says. The idea of the game is to get the errands done in time to get back to your parked car before your parking ticket expires.
The developed town centre looks like it’s modelled on Malahide. A lone person walks the paths, dressed in navy blue and a high-vis vest. The music is upbeat and chirpy, unlike before. A map on the top right of the screen reveals the warden’s whereabouts with a red dot. A timer counts down to the parking ticket’s expiry.
He pulls down an errand list. He needs to go to the supermarket to purchase milk and bread, post a letter, buy a coffee, collect dry cleaning. That kind of thing, and it all needs to be done before a parking ticket is issued. He collects money after achieving each goal.
He achieves it all on time, and happy warden, happy music. A sprinkle of colour, a tinkly tune. A wow and a good job. He wins level one.
It gets more complicated in each level, he says. Less time, more errands. If I don’t achieve it all I get a ticket and I lose money. Warden Wipeout. You can get rewards based on performance, he explains. A parking angel is one. It tops you up and gives you more time.
I smile.
The warden is not evil. She’s the hero of the game.
It doesn’t have blood, guts and gore. It’s the least complex game we’ve created but its simplicity is its magic. There’s a clear objective, it’s easy to navigate. It rewards you for your deeds and makes you feel good. Ideal for those who crave the instant gratification and sense of accomplishment that box ticking brings. It’s going to be Cockadoodledoo’s first game, he says. Launching in the app store next month.
I smile. Thank you.
Thirty
The jewellery robbery is headline news. Two men attack the woman inside and take off with gold. I immediately recognise the white van that they describe and, knowing this is a way to prove that I’m not what they thought I was, I go straight to the garda station. I ask for Laura and I’m grateful to have a face-to-face with her, even if it’s speaking to her through the hatch. I have to do my duty and I want to prove to her that I’m a good person, friend worthy. I tell her everything I know about the white van that was parked in the free parking bay all day. I show her the photographs I took of the wheel valve, how it was moved various times, clearly in an effort to do reconnaissance of the area, not that I was trying to lead her, or plant motive and whatever in her head. She listens and takes notes. I even explain the description of the guy I saw driving the van, as I got a clear look at him.