The Envelope in the Glovebox

The Roundabout of Doom: Royal Oak Rush Hour

'I'm getting nervous just watching them,' said Lummox McRyan as he looked from the passenger seat of Scrubby McTubb's van over the three cars ahead of them at the Royal Oak Roundabout. 'No one's giving way.'

The red sedan at the front of the line had been waiting for a chance to enter the ring while the beeping had travelled to the back of the line like an angry Mexican wave and was starting up again from the front. The first beep meant 'what's going on?', the second, 'get moving', the third, 'hurry the hell up', the fourth – a short sharp friendly pair of beeps – said, 'chill out', the fifth, 'I'm not in the mood for any of this', the sixth, 'come here and say that'.

'You see,' said Scrubby, 'we can't be angry at the long string of people inside the roundabout who aren't turning off. They don't know they're part of a string. It's only from our perspective that they're part of a group. They have no idea that we're on our way to another busy day of small water blasting tasks at several mossy Auckland properties and that we're fixin' to be pressure washing driveways all across town. The twentieth driver in that line doesn't know he's the twentieth driver. To him he's just Bob and he wants to get to work on time.'

Scrubby closed his eyes, started humming, and opened them.

'Just psyching myself up for the roundabout,' he said. 'I had to find my inspiring thought.'

'What inspiring thought did you find?' asked Lummox.

Scrubby said, 'That we have no control over what the roundabout has in store for us. If today's our day, so be it.'

Dying Phones and Mossy Jobs

A bus followed by a council truck turned down Campbell Road which gave them room to get through the roundabout and onto Campbell Road themselves. Near the Cornwall Park entrance Scrubby told Lummox to put the directions into his phone.

'It needs charging,' said Lummox.

Scrubby took the charger out of his own phone and Lummox put it in his.

'There's no green light,' said Lummox.

Despite twisting the charger input and bending the cord and pulling the charger in and out of the socket no light showed. Even after swear words.

Scrubby pulled the wagon over and rummaged around for another charger. There wasn't one.

'How much charge is on your phone?' he asked.

'No bars,' said Lummox.

'Will it last till Remuera?'

'Maybe.'

'We can ask Cathy, our customer, if we can charge it at hers while we work on pressure washing moss for her driveway. Else neither of us'll have a phone the whole day.'

He was thinking about the roundabout they'd just escaped. He was thinking about the first time he'd got lost in the city. He was thinking about the seven customers who hadn't paid him in over a week, leaving him "sailing close to the wind". Mostly he was thinking about the SUV trying to muscle in behind him.

As they pulled into the Campbell Road rush hour the robot lady started talking out of Lummox's dying cellphone.

The machine narrated their journey as they put the emerald tree-lined avenues of Onehunga, One Tree Hill, Epsom into the rear view mirror and entered the cold grey hustle of Greenlane and Ellerslie car yards where their aged moonhopper felt itself being stared at and judged by brand new, sleek and shiny Teslas, Jaguars, Porsches.

'That yard up there needs a damn good water blasting and moss treatment, doesn't it?' said Lummox.

Scrubby said, 'You'd think they'd want clean concrete surfaces as part of their exterior property maintenance schedule, that's for sure, but with all the stress of running a busy car yard it can be easy to overlook the need for the most convenient pressure washing service Auckland has on offer, if you catch my drift, until the moss, algae, and lichen has built up so much that they've got no choice but to add "Auckland property cleaning" to their maintenance checklist.'

Green Mansions and Babylon Gardens: Remuera Unveiled

They turned right onto Great South Road and left down Main Highway.

'We'll be passing the Ellerslie Racecourse soon and then we'll be on Ladies Mile which'll take us into Remuera.'

'Wow!' said Lummox, pointing at a big, green Palladian mansion near Abbott's Way. 'Everything's so green, the gates, the statues, the whole house!'

'That's right,' said Scrubby, 'and not a drop of paint.'

'But how?' asked Lummox.

'Money,' said Scrubby. 'The weatherboards are glued-together cash. Design from the '80s. Your first time in Remuera?'

'For real?' asked Lummox.

'How close are we?' said Scrubby.

The van crawled up a long, hidden driveway which transported them out of the city and into a country estate. The hedges were trimmed to perfection and the flowforms had red and gold fishes in them which were nibbling away on long strands of vine hanging down from silver vessels which were, themselves, hanging from an iron latticed ceiling.

'Kubla Khan would have approved,' said Lummox.

'The hanging gardens of Babylon,' said Scrubby.

'Close enough,' said Lummox.

Scrubby had a ping on his phone – a text.

"The garden hose is between Castor and Pollux. No one will be home but send me your..."

'Damn,' said Scrubby. 'Well, we won't be charging our phones here.'

They turned both their phones off and began setting up their water blasting gear near the verandah. They had finished pressure washing the moss away on the patio and pavers in under an hour. Scrubby had put down pre-treatment on certain parts and with the final post-treatment they had completed their house exterior cleaning in Remuera for the day and were bound for Pakuranga.

'How much battery do you have now?' asked Scrubby.

'Almost none,' said Lummox.

'I have an idea,' said Scrubby as they pulled out into the settling, late morning traffic of Remuera. 'We can ask at a store.'

The gas station owner told Lummox he could not use the power point or even the toilet unless he bought something. Scrubby pulled Lummox away towards the door and said, loud, 'I was going to buy a hundred dollars of gas but I've changed my mind!'

The next gas station was more hospitable. Scrubby ordered twenty dollars of ninety-one as Lummox sat at a dining table with his charging phone. A minute later Scrubby told him, 'Let's get out of here.'

'No gas?'

'Apparently not.'

In the van, Scrubby confessed: 'Card failed. I thought somebody would've paid by now. Seven late paying customers all at the same time. Pure coincidence. They don't know they're part of a group.'

'It is what it is,' said Lummox.

'You get that on the big ones,' said Scrubby. 'Do you have a pen or pencil?'

Lummox did not.

'That's okay,' said Scrubby. 'Reach back there, pull up the seafoam green Hermes Baby. It's got a new typewriter ribbon from Clackers Clinic. Type out all the addresses from my phone before it dies and get the map of Auckland roads out of the glove box.'

Hermes Baby to the Rescue: Analogue Tools for Digital Woes

'These are cool,' said Lummox as the bell on the Baby went bing and he pulled the carriage return lever. 'I want one now. Left.'

They pulled left down Marua Road.

'You ought to take a look at Clackers Clinic typewriter gallery and decide what kind of machine you want,' said Scrubby. 'Straight through?'

Lummox said, 'Burt Road is on the right up yonder.'

Scrubby said, 'And then we'll be on Ellerslie-Panmure Highway. Got it. Move, bird!'

They slowed down near to a halt for a Malay Dove which had stayed pecking something longer than it need have. Lummox continued,

'Carry on straight over the Tamaki River, past Panmure, and past Ti Rakau Drive.'

Scrubby said, 'Keep an eye out for a cash machine.'

'Someone paid?' said Lummox.

'I won't know until I check at a cash machine. Phone's dead now.'

They pulled up to a hole-in-the-wall. Scrubby got two twenty dollar notes out. He said,

'All there was. It'll buy some gas and a charger.'

They found an electrical shop and bought a compatible charger for twenty-two dollars, put in ten dollars gas, and Scrubby spent the rest on two pies and an iced coffee all for Lummox.

Ten minutes later they were pulling up to a Pakuranga motel where the winter moss had covered the path between the rooms on the ground floor level.

'This one isn't charging either,' said Lummox.

Scrubby stared into nothing.

'So it's the electrics in the van, not the charger,' he said.

Panamas in Pakuranga

A man in a polka dot vest was sitting on a big volcanic rock in the shade of a Panama hat with his cellphone to his ear. He'd only half noticed the wagon pull into the driveway but now he looked again, levered himself up off the rock, and walked over.

'Scrubby McTubb Water Blasting Auckland?'

'Yes sir,' said Scrubby.

'I've been trying to reach you but your phone goes straight to voicemail. I have to leave but can I pay you in cash right now?'

'Yes sir,' they both replied.

The man disappeared into the front office. They found a park.

'Not all heroes wear capes,' said Lummox.

The man sprang back out like a barbershop lead and pushed a white envelope through the window, grinned, saluted, and dashed away like he knew some happy secret the rest of us haven't been let in on.

'Some of them wear Panama hats,' said Scrubby.

They'd finished pressure washing moss off the concrete and soft washing the walls and rails by four o'clock and were at Lummox's driveway by four forty-five.

'There's an envelope for you at the very bottom of the glove box,' said Scrubby.

Lummox ripped it open, and saw a stack of notes as green as a Remuera Palladian mansion.

'Wait,' said Lummox, 'This was here the whole day? Why didn't you use it?'

'Paying your workers comes first,' said Scrubby.

'In that case, can you drop me at Parched Petunia? I'd better go pay my workers.'

That evening, on the phone with Mouse McMurtry, Scrubby recounted the day's adventures, close calls, and no calls at all because of flat batteries.

Mouse said, 'Have you tried Maxwell Malarky? The auto-sparky? He'll see you right. Set you back a couple hundred maybe.'

Scrubby said, 'Right now that's a couple hundred I can't afford to be set back. But that's okay. We've discovered some ancient technology and techniques for dealing with the manifold problems of the Auckland water blasting trade. Maps. Typewriters. Patience above all else.'

'Have it your way, Scrubby,' said Mouse. 'Just remember to charge your phone before you leave every morning.'

'I'll be damned,' said Scrubby.

'What's that?' said Mouse.

'The guy with the Panama hat today... he had...'

'What did he have, Scrubby?'

'Never mind. Talk tomorrow,' said Scrubby and put the phone down to charge.