Phoenix Resurrected Page 9

  “Okay.” I said. “That would be nice. But I must be home by nine o’clock. If I’m late my dad will be furious.”

  There wasn’t anyone that we knew at McDonald’s when we got there so Garth bought hamburgers and chips and we walked to his house. He unlocked the front door and leant in to switch on the passage light. We walked into the house still holding hands.

  “Let’s eat in the kitchen.” Garth said. “It’s where my aunt and I always had our meals and it’s quite homely.”

  I followed Garth along the passage to the kitchen. He put the hamburgers and chips on the table and began filling the kettle with water.

  “The coffee and the coffee mugs are in the cupboard next to the fridge.” Garth said.

  I set out two mugs on the table and spooned coffee into them. Garth opened the fridge and took out a can of beer.

  “Would you like one?” he asked.

  “No thanks.” I said. “I’ll have a little of yours.

  Garth found a glass and poured some of the beer into it. As he handed it to me he leant forward slowly and gently kissed me on the mouth. Although I was a little frightened, I felt myself respond. I put my free hand behind his neck and kissed him. I had always wondered what it would be like to kiss and be kissed by a man and the feeling of excitement that coursed through my whole body was exquisite. I pulled back and placed my glass on the kitchen shelf. I put both my arms around Garth’s neck, closed my eyes, and kissed him hungrily. I felt his arms go around my waist and he pulled me close to him. I could feel his hardness. Our mouths opened slowly and our tongues touched. Garth leant back and looked down at me. My pulse was racing.

  “Let’s go to the bedroom.” Garth said, his voice husky. “We can have our food later.”

  I nodded, too overawed with excitement to say anything.

  I had never in my wildest thoughts imagined that making love to someone of my own free will could be so fulfilling. And that the person with me had the same feelings towards me made it even more wonderful. When my father had molested me I had been able to switch myself and my emotions off to what was being done to me, but with Garth, his touch was something that filled me with love. I felt myself wanting to live every moment of our bonding. His gentleness was exquisite and our urgency grew and grew until it exploded in an avalanche of passion. We both subsided, exhausted.

  We lay in the darkness, Garth’s fingertips gently sliding over my body. The feeling of wholeness was overwhelming. Gradually our breathing returned to normal.

  “Are you disappointed that I’m not a virgin?” I whispered.

  “No.” Garth replied. “I’m not a virgin either. But, ever since I first saw you I’ve had this strange feeling of camaraderie towards you. I’ve never been able to actually define it but it’s as if we have something in common. Would I be wrong if I guessed that whatever sexual experience you’ve had, it wasn’t consensual?”

  I lay in the darkness, dumbstruck by what Garth had just said.

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been feeling towards you, ever since I first saw you.” I whispered. “Were you also abused as a child?”

  “Yes.” Garth said quietly. “By my father.”

  I felt an incredible closeness to Garth fill my body. Were abused people really able to recognize each other? From what Garth had just said and my own attraction to him, I knew that this was true. The wounded recognize the wounded.

  Suddenly I sat up.

  “What’s the time?” I asked.

  Garth switched on the bedside lamp and looked at his watch.

  “It’s quarter to nine.” he said.

  “Oh, my God!” I said. “I’ve got to be home by nine!”

  Garth rolled off the bed and stood up. I stood next to him and began picking up my clothes from the floor. We dressed quickly.

  “We won’t have time to eat now.” I said. “Perhaps we can have the food tomorrow for lunch.”

  “Okay.” Garth said. “Let’s go!”

  We hurried out of the house and walked quickly along the pavement towards my parent’s house. Fortunately it was less than two blocks away.

  “Relax.” Garth said as we approached the house. “You’re going to be home in time. It’s two minutes to nine.”

  We walked up the short pathway from the front gate to the veranda of the house. I could see my father peeping through a tiny gap in the lounge curtains. At the door I turned and kissed Garth gently.

  “Thank you, Garth.” I said quietly. “You’ve made me so happy. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Cindy.” Garth replied.

  I turned and opened the door. I hurried into the house. My father stood in the lounge glaring at me.

  “You cut it very fine, you little bitch.” he said, tapping his watch. “It’s a pity. I was hoping that you would be late so that I could give you a good thrashing.”

  ***

  “Your Honour.” my attorney, James Foster said as I stopped to take a sip of water. “I would like to interrupt my client’s testimony at this stage. As I said earlier, Cindy Bedford’s and Garth Gilmore’s testimony are closely linked and my learned colleague and I would like to keep their testimonies parallel. We would therefore like to ask Miss Bedford to stand down from the witness stand and give Garth Gilmore time to tell more of his story.

  Judge Warren Bester nodded.

  CHAPTER 6

  I stepped onto the witness stand and sat down. Paul Greave stood up from the defence table and walked around to face me.

  “Garth.” he said. “I want you to tell the court what happened after you received your inheritance and began your relationship with Cindy Bedford.

  ***

  The Child Welfare Department’s representative, Misses Phillips, called me and made an appointment to meet with me to discuss my inheritance. She arrived at the house the following day and we sat in the lounge.

  “As you’re still under the age of twenty one you aren’t allowed to conduct any transactions regarding the inheritance.” Misses Phillips said. “So the Department will be acting on your behalf.”

  Misses Phillips handed me a letter on a Child Welfare Department letterhead advising me that the Juvenile Court had appointed the Department of Child Welfare as my legal guardian and that they would have Power of Attorney to administer my inheritance from my aunt until I reached the age of twenty one.

  “The Department feels that you are old enough and mature enough to have a credit card but we’re going to put a daily limit on it of one hundred and fifty dollars.” Misses Phillips said. “This will eliminate the need for us to be giving you cash for your daily living expenses. At the end of each month the outstanding balance on your credit account will automatically be paid from your sixty thousand dollar investment account. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Later, if you decide to start your own business we will arrange for any finance that you need to come out of the investment account.” Misses Phillips said. “So, if at any stage you need more than the daily one hundred and fifty dollars you can discuss it with me. Okay?”

  “Yes.” I said. “But why only a hundred and fifty dollars a day?”

  “A hundred and fifty dollars a day equates to four thousand five hundred dollars a month.” Misses Phillips explained. “Remember that you don’t have to pay rent or for the domestic who cleans the house and does your washing and ironing. Nor do you have to pay for water and electricity and rates and taxes. All these expenses will be paid from the investment account. A hundred and fifty dollars a day for food and other personal things will be quite ample. But I still want to see your monthly credit card statement to see that you’re not wasting the money.”

  After Misses Phillips had left I began to think about the sixty thousand dollars in the investment account. If I could get my hands on that I could live like a king! I had to find a way to access the account.

  My snooker-playing friends, Ian, Bruce and Vic were highly impressed when I told them about my inheritance. Although
I didn’t tell them the exact amount of money that I’d received I made it very clear that it was quite considerable. Shortly after this I noticed that their snooker skills improved dramatically and the stakes that we played for increased tenfold. They were careful not to overdo our gambling and although I began to lose money to them consistently, I failed to see that they were actually exploiting me. Whenever we played in pairs, my partner’s snooker deteriorated and inevitably we lost to the other two. All three of them commiserated with me whenever I lost and assured me that my luck would soon change and I would win all my money back. I was just too naïve to see that they were manipulating the games and taking my money surreptitiously.

  My friends also began borrowing money from me, promising to pay me back with interest, but whenever I asked about the loans they had some or other excuse as to why they couldn’t pay me back. They also constantly reminded me that when I’d been at school they had paid my share of the money needed to rent the snooker tables and play pinball. Then one Monday morning they told me that they were planning to go to the Desert Jewel Casino on the following Friday night and asked whether I’d like to go with them.

  “You’ll have a great time.” Bruce told me. “There are plenty of beautiful girls, the food’s out of this world and, if you’re playing roulette, the drinks are free. You also don’t have to take a lot of cash with you. They are very happy to give you cash from your credit card if you need it. But playing roulette is the easiest way to win and none of us has ever lost any money at the tables. It’s the machines that are stacked against the visitors. You won’t believe how much money people make playing roulette!”

  “How long will you be there?” I asked. “Maybe I’ll take my girlfriend with me.”

  “No.” Ian said. “No girls. They’re too much of a distraction, and they have no idea of how to gamble. They’re always losing money because most of them play the machines and that’s where you can lose all your money. We usually get there at about nine in the evening and seldom get back before four o’clock the next day. The secret to successful gambling is never to give up. If you’re losing, you have to just hang in there; your luck will change. It always does. I remember one guy who was down a thousand bucks and then his luck suddenly changed and he eventually walked away from the roulette table with forty grand!”

  “Forty grand!” I exclaimed. “Wow! That’s a lot of money!”

  “It’s actually chicken feed.” Vic said. “There are guys that win hundreds of thousands of dollars regularly. It’s almost as if the casino’s giving away money!”

  “But don’t you have to be twenty one years or older to gamble?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Ian said. “But nobody ever gets asked to show the management their I.D. books unless they’re obviously under twenty one. You’re a big guy for your age so you’ll easily pass for someone over twenty one. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay.” I said. “Count me in.”

  When I told Cindy that I was going to the casino with Ian, Bruce and Vic I could see the worry in her eyes.

  “How long will you be there?” she asked.

  “Probably the whole night.” I said. “That’s why I can’t invite you to come with me.”

  “Please be careful, Garth.” Cindy said. “Those places are set up to take people’s money. The odds are heavily stacked against the visitors. That’s why they are so plush. We always hear about the people who make money but we seldom hear about the majority who lose money there.”

  “Don’t worry.” I said. "I’ll be careful. Besides, Bruce, Ian and Vic will be with me and they’re very experienced. They won’t let me do anything stupid.”

  I had been thinking about the sixty thousand dollar investment account and how I could get my hands on the money. Somehow I had to get the daily limit on my credit card changed, and the only way I could think of to do this was to forge a letter to the bank on a Child Welfare Department letterhead instructing the bank to increase the daily limit on my credit card.

  I took the letter that Misses Phillips had given me advising me that the Department would be handling my affairs and placed a blank piece of white paper over the bottom part so that only the letterhead was visible. I then placed the document in my copier and printed it. The result was a perfect replica of the Department’s letterhead.

  I composed a letter addressed to the bank manager instructing the bank to increase the daily limit on Master Garth Gilmore’s credit card from one hundred and fifty dollars to five thousand dollars, explaining that he was in the process of starting his own business and needed to purchase machinery and materials. I carefully typed the letter onto the blank letterhead and then spent an hour practicing the signature that was on the Department’s letterhead. Once I was satisfied that I could copy it exactly I signed the forged letter. It looked exactly like the original letter. I addressed an envelope to the manager of the bank, placed the forged letter inside, and sealed it. I went to the Post Office, purchased a postage stamp and dropped the letter into the post box.

  For the next two days I waited anxiously. Would my letter be accepted by the bank or would I suddenly find Misses Phillips and the police at my front door? By the morning of the third day, when I hadn’t been visited by Misses Phillips and the police or heard from the bank, I went to the bank and spoke to one of the tellers.

  “I’ve forgotten what the daily limit on my credit card is.” I said as I handed the card to the teller. “Can you please tell me what it is?”

  The teller took the card, swiped it through her processor and studied the screen of her computer.

  “The daily limit on your credit card is five thousand dollars.” she said as she handed my card back to me.

  Trying hard not to show my excitement, I thanked the girl and left the bank. It had worked! The bank had accepted my forged letter! Now I had access to all the money that I would need to live like a king! And when I went to the casino on Friday night with Ian, Bruce and Vic I would have plenty of cash!

  ***

  The glitz of the casino dazzled me. There was obvious a great deal of wealth here. Music blared, lights flashed and the banks of slot machines glowed with the promise of easy money. Pretty girls in short skirts and plunging necklines were everywhere; serving drinks and pampering the patrons. Plush carpets covered the floors. And Ian was right. Nobody took any notice of me and nobody queried my age or asked to see my I.D. even though I saw several uniformed security personnel mingling with the crowds.

  “So, what are we going to play?” Ian asked. ”Let’s go to the roulette tables.”

  “I don’t know how to play roulette, poker or any of the other games.” I said. “So I’m just going to play the slot machines.”

  “Slot machines are so boring.” Vic said. “But if you don’t know how to play any of the other games then we’ll leave you to it. Let’s all meet at the reception desk at twelve o’clock. Then we can assess our financial positions and have something to eat. After that we can decide what we’re going to do for the rest of the night.”

  Ian, Bruce and Vic hurried away. I went to the cashier’s booth and withdrew five hundred dollars from my credit card account. I was given the money in five-dollar coins in a large white plastic cup. I selected a slot machine and began feeding the coins into it. I used up more than half the coins before the machine made a jingling sound, lights flashed and I got just on half my money back. Suitably encouraged I continued to feed coins into the machine. Unfortunately, my luck didn’t hold and in an amazingly short time I had used up all my coins. I went back to the cashier’s booth and withdrew another five hundred dollars. I chose another machine and began feeding coins into it. Within an hour I had lost all my money again. Still convinced that my luck would change I withdrew another five hundred dollars. By the time I went to the reception desk to meet Ian, Bruce and Vic I’d lost just under five thousand dollars and had reached the daily limit that the bank had set on my credit card.

  “How did you go with the machines?” Ian
asked.

  “I’ve lost just over a hundred dollars.” I lied, ashamed that I hadn’t won anything.

  “Don’t feel bad. We’re also all down.” Ian said. “But I’m sure that our luck’s about to change. So let’s get something to eat.”

  I could see that my friends had been drinking quite heavily. I had been too absorbed in playing the machines to even think of having a drink. We found a small takeaway and bought hamburgers. When it came to paying for the food my companions looked at me.

  “Will you pay for the food, Garth?” Ian said. “We’re completely out of cash. Can you also lend us some money? I promise I’ll pay you back. On Sunday I’m getting money from a guy who owes me ten grand.”

  “I don’t think I’ve even got enough money for all three of the meals.” I said. “I’ve reached the limit on my credit card.”

  We all scrounged through our pockets and just managed to find enough money to pay for the meals.

  “I thought you’d inherited so much money?” Ian said.

  “The bank put a limit on my credit card.” I said. “It doesn’t matter how much money I inherited, I can’t withdraw any more money from my credit card.”

  “But you said you’d only lost about a hundred dollars.” Vic said. “How much is the limit on your card? A hundred dollars?”

  I realized that I had trapped myself by lying about my losses.

  “Okay, I lied.” I said. “I’ve actually lost five thousand dollars. That’s the limit on my card.”

  “You lost five grand playing the slot machines!” Ian exclaimed. “That’s crazy! If you’d lent us some of that we would probably be rich right now!”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “So, how much did you guys lose?” I asked.

  “We only had two hundred dollars between us to start with.” Ian said. “So, as none of us has any money we might as well go home.”

  Suddenly Vic looked at me, his eyebrows raised.

  “Garth.” he said. “That limit on your credit card. Is it a daily limit?”