Title: Marks on the Slate
Author: CGB (
*
"So how do you do it?"
Laura Gibson is sitting on the other side of the bar, in a cheeky mood and sampling Meredith's latest wine order from Port Deakin. She's an irregular visitor to the Tropical Star. There are the children, of course, and then the more sensitive cases, but there are nights when she braves the town gossips and the drunks and perches herself at the end of the bar to order a counter meal and a glass of wine.
Meredith knows it's a special kind of woman who takes on this town.
"Do what, Dear?"
"Remember all those details. It's quite a feat you know. Most scientists would say it was impossible."
"I've never had a lot of faith in Science, Laura. There was that cyclone in 1965 and the Bureau of Meteorology insisted we didn't get cyclones this far South.
"I suppose there are a lot of unusual happenings that go on in this place..."
She likes the way Laura smiles, little creases at the corners of her eyes hinting at something special beneath the tailored suits and high heels. Harold thinks she has some kind of obscure faith in Laura Gibson as the saviour of this town and she thinks he can laugh, but Meredith's been waiting all her life for women like Laura Gibson to make Pearl Bay their home.
She stops wiping glasses and leans on the bar. "What I don't understand Laura, is why no one else remembers what I do. You couldn't even tell me what month you came here the first time, and you had to think very hard about the year."
"I'm a bad example Meredith. I need Angus to tell me what day it is. Take... take Dan for example..."
Meredith smiles at the counter top. Laura likes to talk about Diver.
"He can't remember if he's refueled the boat in the morning. One day he'll drift out to sea with those kids."
"He's teasing you, dear. He'd never take that kind of risk with the children."
"He's not funny."
"You get used to him."
"Well, Dan, for example, forgets little things, but he remembers names of people he met in tiny port villages in Madagascar. This is common memory, Meredith. We prioritise the things that are important to us and we forget the things that aren't."
"And your holiday here, Laura? That wasn't important?"
Meredith fingers the bar runners. No matter how many times she washes them, they are still filthy looking things. She should buy new ones.
"It was important, it's just... hazy. Like a dream, only we have this video tape of it so it's like a dream with camera angles..." Laura's attention shifts to a spot over Meredith's shoulder. Meredith turns to see Dan coming in the front entrance and making his way toward them.
Dan stops when he sees them. He runs a hand over his beard and shrugs, nonchalantly. "Nothing on my face, I'm wearing trousers... I'm going to have to assume you were both talking about me."
Meredith picks up the tea towel and begins drying again. "Laura was just saying you had a good memory."
"I'm a novice compared to you, Meredith, but I never forget a face, especially not one as pretty as yours."
"Really, Diver! If you think I'm extending your credit past Thursday you are sadly mistaken. What kind of example would I be setting to the rest of the town?"
"Meredith..."
"How do you think she does it, Dan?" Laura is ignoring them both.
"Does what?"
"Remembers everything - the entire town history."
"Does there have to be an answer for everything? Why did we evolve from apes and not birds? Some mysteries are best left to the cosmos."
"Hmmm..." Laura twirls her glass in one hand. Diver leans on the bar with his elbow and watches her, forgetting Meredith momentarily.
"Actually, I'll let you in on a secret," he says, leaning in close.
"What?"
Dan whispers. "She's got a tape recorder hidden under the bar."
Laura eyes lift towards the roof and she fights a smile. Dan smirks.
Meredith pours Dan a drink and chalks up a mark on the slate next to his name.
"Maybe that's it," Laura says. "Maybe it's just marks next to names on a slate in Meredith's head."
Dan, finding himself without a rejoinder, sips his beer, making an involuntary slurping noise as he does so. Meredith leans on the bar with one hand while continuing to consider the runners.
Marks on a slate, memories against each names, against each day; it's not an entirely ridiculous analogy. It's not something Meredith has given a lot of though to, but then no one else in the town has either. Until Laura.
Meredith looks down at the bar runners. It occurs to her that she made a mental note to buy runners on her last trip to the city. Odd. She must have forgotten.
Fin