Read Online I Am (Not) the Walrus by Ed Briant - Free Book Online

pull two cups off the rack above the sink. “Was that who you were just talking to? It sounded like a friend.” I line up the cups in front of the coffee machine. “Is it all sorted out?”
    â€œNot completely,” she says. “I got transferred to half a dozen different departments, only to be told that I had to speak to the twenty-four-hour service department, and they go home at five o’clock.”
    â€œThat makes no sense at all.” I get the milk out of the fridge. “Man. I would have given them some choice language.” I pour the coffee and give Mom one of the cups.
    â€œThanks,” says Mom. “As your granddad used to say, Always be firm, fair, and friendly .” She turns the cup handle toward her, lifts the cup, and takes a sip. “So that was my friendly act. You never know. Sometimes if you’re nice to people they’re nice back to you. Although on the other hand your grandfather also used to say, no good deed goes unwasted .”
    â€œHow come you’re a thousand in the red?” I say.
    â€œIt’s all my fault.” She bangs the cup down. “I’ve been splurging like a drunken sailor.” She blows out her cheeks.
    â€œI thought we were broke,” I say. “What did you spend it on?”
    â€œOh, you know. Rent, food, electricity,” she says. “Frivolous stuff.”
    I lean on the counter and take a sip of my coffee. “Couldn’t you ask Shawn?”
    â€œI haven’t heard from Shawn for a couple of weeks,” she says. “Anyway he helped out with that monstrous electricity bill a couple of months ago. We have to leave him with something for himself. You know, being a sailor he of all people should be allowed to splurge like a drunken one now and again.”
    â€œThere has to be another way we can raise some cash,” I say.
    â€œOf course. I could sell my jewels,” says Mom. “I never wear the tiara anymore.”
    â€œYou have a tiara?” I say.
    â€œSorry,” says Mom. “Bad attempt at humor. Listen, how much do you think all of Shawn’s music stuff is worth?”
    â€œBut you can’t sell Shawn’s stuff,” I say. “He’d be devastated.”
    â€œSweetheart,” she says. “When he helped out with the electric bill he actually said if you get into any more money troubles have Toby sell my music stuff. You should be able to get a grand if you’re lucky.”
    I shake my head. “The bass is the most valuable thing,” I say. “It’s worth maybe three-fifty. The amp, maybe two hundred. The keyboard, a hundred. Then there’s all of the mics, cables, and stands. That’s maybe another hundred. That makes seven-fifty if we get what we ask for.”
    â€œEnjoy it while you can, Tobe,” she says. “If it comes to a choice of living on the streets and selling Shawn’s equipment, then I’m afraid the equipment will have to go.”
    â€œBut Mom,” I say. “We have a gig on Monday at the old Jubilee Cinema. It could be the first of many.”
    â€œKeep your hair on, Tobe,” she says. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.” She pats my shoulder.
    â€œI thought you could come,” I say. “I could put you on the guest list, and you wouldn’t have to pay to go in.”
    â€œI’ll have to see if I can get the time off,” she says. “I have a lot of applications for real jobs out there. One of them is bound to work out, and I only need one.”
    â€œWe shouldn’t have come here,” I say. “I mean, to Port Jackson. It was probably a mistake, wasn’t it?”
    â€œI don’t know,” says Mom. “It seemed like the right thing at the time. How would you feel if we went back to London?”
    â€œCould we wait a couple of months?” I say.
    â€œWhy don’t we give it till school ends for the summer,” she