Free Bleakboy and Hunter Stand Out in the Rain by Steven Herrick

Mum.’
    Mum busily butters a slice of wholemeal bread and pulls open the second drawer, looking for a sharp knife to cut the cheese.
    â€˜Don’t bother, Mum,’ says Beth. ‘Ryan will buy me lunch today,’ Beth winks at me, ‘and then I’ll owe him one.’
    Mum looks up quickly, her hand clenching the knife. She bites her lip and searches the kitchen until she locates her handbag among the envelopes and unpaid bills on the bench. She reaches for her wallet, takes out some coins and places them on the table. ‘Well, it is a good canteen, I suppose. And we should support it.’
    Dad walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, staring absentmindedly inside. Mum finishes making the sandwich, wraps it in wax paper and places it into a brown paper bag, offering it to him. Dad holds it in front of him, a questioning look on his face.
    â€˜It’s a cheese sandwich, Dad,’ Beth says.
    Dad shakes his head. ‘Nah, Brian and I are going to the Berliner Cafe for lunch,’ he says. ‘Chicken schnitzel, rosti and mushroom sauce. Now that’s a lunch!’ Mum gives him a look and makes a clicking sound at the back of her throat.
    Dad puts the paper bag in his briefcase, adding, ‘But I could have this before going to the cafe,’ he looks at Mum, ‘and just have a coffee with Brian.’
    â€˜We all have to make sacrifices,’ says Beth, casting a glance my way, ‘now we’re on a budget.’
    Dad coughs and everyone looks at me.
    â€˜What?’ I ask.
    â€˜Nothing, Jesse,’ says Mum. ‘Beth, why don’t you walk to school with your brother again? Like yesterday.’
    â€˜What, are we budgeting petrol as well,’ moans Beth.
    â€˜Still saving the planet, Beth. Climate change, remember?’ Dad reaches toward the hook for the keys to his Subaru.
    â€˜You could ride your bike, Dad,’ Beth suggests.
    Dad smiles. ‘I’d love to, but I’m wearing a suit.’
    â€˜Fine, let Jesse borrow your bike,’ suggests Beth.
    â€˜Beth, walk with Jesse,’ Mum interrupts, ‘or use that money I gave you for a bus fare.’ Mum smiles, knowing Beth won’t catch a bus.
    I get up to leave the table.
    â€˜Have a lovely day, Jesse,’ Mum says.
    â€˜What about me?’ asks Beth.
    â€˜Yes,’ says Mum, putting her wallet back into her handbag.
    As we’re walking to school, Beth places a sisterly arm around my shoulder. ‘So what’s your secret, Jesse?’
    â€˜Me?’
    â€˜The hugs from Mum, the two-course breakfast. I bet you didn’t have to beg for five dollars for lunch,’ she says.
    â€˜Actually, Mum gave me ten dollars,’ I say, in a quiet voice.
    â€˜What?’ Beth removes her arm and stares at me.
    â€˜You can have half, if you want,’ I say.
    â€˜It’s not the money. It’s how they’re treating you and …’ Beth frowns.
    â€˜And all I did was steal Dad’s credit card,’ I finish the sentence for her. I shift my backpack from one shoulder to the other.
    â€˜It’s spooky, isn’t it?’ she says.
    â€˜Maybe they think I’m developing into a klep … kleto … A person who steals things without meaning to,’ I say, my hands shaking at the thought of not being able to stop myself from stealing stuff. What’s next? Dad’s Subaru for joy rides around the suburb? An iPod from the department store? Hunter’s backpack? That would mean certain death.
    â€˜Jesse. You’re not a kleptomaniac,’ says Beth.
    â€˜How do you know?’
    â€˜Because you can’t even say the word!’ She giggles. ‘And you stole for a good reason.’
    â€˜Maybe that’s why Mum’s being nice to me.’
    Beth snorts. ‘Great. To get into Mum’s good books, I shouldn’t clean my room or help her stack the dishwasher. To be a good daughter I’ve got to plunder