The two-bedroom apartment, located on the seventeenth floor overlooked Sydney Harbour and the heavily guarded landmarks no longer accessible to the general public. So much of the world now cut off for its protection meant once loved outings were not longer obtainable for those living in the poorer suburbs. Segregation of the wealthy from the poor meant many lost the opportunities and freedoms their ancestors once enjoyed.
The apartment furnished in modern decor and state-of-the-art technology spoiled June in many ways. The longer she remained the less likely she would ever want to leave. It wasn’t that her family home went without such luxuries and growing up June’s parents made every effort to provide for her. But the constant reminder of where they lived and the opportunities not permitted to them left a stigma they could never escape.
The mostly black furniture and pale grey tiled floors in the living areas did not detract from the sense of home. Splashes of colour in the form of flowers, paintings and figurines captured different aspects of the apartment, making the rooms inviting.
The tight security surrounding the building gave June the comfort she needed during her time of healing. She didn’t want her first bad experience in the city to ruin her perspective. Over time, June ventured out more. She discovered the food market and visited regularly. In time, she knew the vendor’s by name, and they hers. This helped lift June’s confidence and every new day she grew into the woman she always wanted to be. On Inferno’s advice, June began to improve her wardrobe. The boutiques in the area were very classy, and they sold the stylish clothes June always imagined she would wear. Yet, guilt often accompanied her when she purchased anything new with thoughts of her parents and the disadvantages they lived with.
In all, June would say her current position in life far exceeded her expectations. Her initial contact with a professional medical service regarding her transition when she first arrived moved much faster now that her place of residence had changed. June didn’t like to consider the life she might have continued to have if she hadn’t met Inferno. Regardless of her situation, June’s euphoric emotions about her future blocked any danger she might find herself in.
However, the one blight of her near perfect life was the existence of four mobile telephones. One in particular that rang at all hours of the day or night. There was no set time when it rang and the callers all had one thing in common - desperation in their voices.
In the weeks after receiving the mobile telephones, Inferno never once spoke to her about them, only referring to the diary and the messages June wrote down. June never saw Inferno call any of them back and she never asked if she did. Sometimes, she would take a message from the same person three or four times, often having to deal with that person’s anger and frustration. But there was little June could do. There had been several times June hung up on callers when they began threatening her. The nature of the calls and the people making those calls began wearing June down.
After dinner one evening, June found the courage to ask Inferno what happened with the messages taken.
“Nothing,” Inferno told June.
“Nothing?” June questioned.
“I don’t do anything with the messages.”
“You don’t return any of the calls?”
“No,” Inferno said bluntly.
“But… why the phone and messages? If you’re not going to call them back.”
“Because there are people out there who will go to any length to get in contact with me? So I make it easy for them to do so. Doesn’t mean I have to call them back.”
June breathed in and out deeply.
“What do I do then?” June asked.
“Take a message.”
“But they keep calling back and get angry.”
“Don’t take any crap from them. Manage how you think best.”
“Some have threatened me.”
June couldn’t believe Inferno would be so blasé about it.
“Use your discretion.”
The tone in June voice raised slightly, “My discretion. They’re desperate people.”
“I have faith in you, June. If they give you crap, hung up on them, they’ll learn to be polite soon enough.”
June stared at Inferno, resigned to the fact there was no use arguing. Inferno had no empathy for these people and no amount of discussions was going to make any difference.
“Okay, I’ll use my discretion.”
June wasn’t happy with the outcome of their conversation but she let it drop.
That night in bed, June couldn’t help but be disappointed in learning nothing came off the messages. She realised Inferno would be hard pressed to help all of them but she had foolishly believed Inferno might help some. This left a sense of hopelessness in June, having grown up in a disproportionate sociality. The thought there was no one who could help, regardless the situation, saddened June immensely. It also left one more questioning thought. If Inferno wasn’t helping anyone what was she doing with her time?
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