Repeat After Me

Chapter 9

Asten woke me at 9am with a message. 'Check out Instagram #cageman. You've just been called a #melbourneicon.'

I typed #cageman into Instagram and sure enough, my work from the night before popped up. Someone had posted it with the hashtag Melbourne icon.

Ten minutes later Asten texted again. 'You're a hit #cageman'.

'Hardly,' I messaged back. I was surprised anyone had even seen my work, given the quarantine situation.

'Shall we get a takeaway coffee? Somewhere near you?'

I thought about his toxic girlfriend and how she was older and helping him out with money. But she wasn't my problem, she was his problem, so I said 'Sure. Let's meet at Mario's on Chapel St, there's some park benches that haven't been roped off near there.'

When I got to Mario's Asten had already found a nearby park bench and was slumped over the table, propping his chin up with one hand and holding a long black coffee in the other. 'I should've slept,' he said by way of a greeting.

'What? You haven't been to bed yet?'

'Nup. Don't ask. So, how does it feel being a #melbourneicon?'

'Oh ... I'm hardly a Melbourne icon.'

'If someone has snapped and posted your work in a pandemic, you're an icon.'

'I need to eat. You having something?'

'Just coffee.'

I looked over at Mario's. There was a queue out the door of almost ten people, all keeping their metre distance.

'It's busy,' I said.

'Yeah, you can't keep Melburnians away from their coffee for too long. Even in a quarantine.'

I went and joined the queue. There was a couple in front of me, he looked older, fifty perhaps, and she was maybe in her thirties. She had her head on his shoulder and would occasionally look up at him with such love and devotion. My heart ached for a relationship like this. I didn't know what I was doing here having coffee with some guy who had a toxic girlfriend.

Mario's had placed chairs upside down on all the tables and moved them to the side of the café. Then they'd moved the cash register to near the front door. The girl taking orders was wearing a face mask and latex gloves. A guy beside her was spraying the counter with disinfectant spray. I felt like I was risking my life just ordering a coffee. My heart started racing. The loving couple in front of me could be infected. The girl taking my order could be infected. She could have coronavirus all over her hands. Who knows if latex gloves do anything? Should I even eat anything from here?

I stepped up to order, deciding against having any food. Who knew what hygiene measures were being used out the back there. 'Just a regular latte,' I said.

When I returned with my latte, Asten had already finished his coffee. He looked at me with soppy red eyes and chewed at a dry spot on his lip. Our conversation got clogged in a septic water tank, ideas stagnant, mosquitoes buzzing to distraction. I felt like asking 'Why are you so quiet?' But for some reason I couldn't. I put up with his silence and I made small talk about the Laneway Festival and how I adore iced tea, hating the inane words that fell from my mouth like knocked-out teeth. He looked like he hadn't slept. I wondered if he was defying the orders and seeing his mates. Maybe he'd seen the girlfriend last night after we'd parted. Who knows how many people he was exposing me to?

'What did you do last night after we left town?' I asked.

'Oh, I just couldn't sleep. Sometimes I just need to go home and put some music on, you know, spend some time by myself. I think the quarantine is getting to me. I like being with people. I'm a social being.'