Praise by Andrew McGahan Page B

other words, all I could expect from Social Security for the next three weeks was a hundred and thirty-six dollars. I added this to the money I had left. Then I took away what I owed for the rent, which was already due and which would be due again in two weeks time. And then there were bills. The quarterly phone, gas and electricity.
    After subtracting them all, I had ten dollars left. Ten dollars to feed and amuse myself for three weeks.
    That was it then. It was time to talk Special Benefits.
    Of course Cynthia had money. And she would be sharing the rent as well. But Social Security didn’t know that. I had the bills, I had documents. I had proof. I filled out the Special Benefits form, collected it all and walked down to the Social Security office.
    Nothing had changed. The smokers outside may have been different people, but they looked the same. They stared at me. I stared back. I was feeling confident this time. I was beginning to understand the way things worked. I joined one of the queues and made it to the counter. It was the same woman as before. There was no chance of her remembering me. I’d read somewhere that this particular office was one of the busiest in the state.
    â€˜I have an appointment,’ I said, handing over the card.
    She looked at it. ‘You’ve got the forms?’
    I handed them over, along with the bills and the three identifications. She didn’t look at them.
    â€˜Okay, I’ll pass these on. Take a seat and we’ll call you.’
    I found a seat. Smooth enough so far. I looked at the TV. I hadn’t brought anything to read. I’d been vaguely expecting that having an appointment card meant you wouldn’t have to wait. There was a clock on the wall. It rolled round twice while I sat there.
    I watched the crowd. Most of them were young — seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. They moved around. They fought, laughed, yelled. I picked up New Zealand and British accents. We had an internationally famous social security system. Anyone could get it. Three forms of ID was all it took.
    The older people — the long-term unemployed, the invalid pensioners — sat quietly and watched the action with weary expressions. They had no time for youth. What did the young know? The young were the competition, the young were the enemy. They flowed out of school by the millions and got in the way.
    Finally I was called up to a booth. It was the same woman again. She had my pile of documents.
    â€˜This I D is lousy.’
    â€˜Honestly, it’s all I could find.’
    She began stamping the forms. ‘Well, it’ll have to do.’ I waited. She finished stamping. ‘Now, we’ve approved you for the standard Unemployment Benefits, but I see you want the Emergency Benefits too. I have to tell you I don’t think you’re really eligible for it. These bills of yours aren’t extraordinary.’
    I was ready for this. I said, ‘But they still have to be paid. That’s not even counting the rent and just general survival. The money has to come from somewhere.’
    â€˜Well ... it’s not up to me. I’ll pass your application on and we’ll get back to you. I’ll give you an appointment for tomorrow.’
    â€˜Today’s okay. I can wait.’
    â€˜But it could take hours.’
    â€˜That’s fine. I really need the money today. All those bills are overdue.’
    She resigned herself. ‘Fair enough. Look, in the meantime, here’s your standard fortnightly application. Fill it out and bring it in before eleven tomorrow. We’ll mail you the next one with your first payment, and then every second Tuesday after that you’ll have to bring it in, in person. Okay?’
    â€˜Okay.’
    I went and sat down again.
    This wasn’t so bad. All you needed was patience. I waited another hour, then I was called up again. I drew a man this time. He looked about my age. He was well dressed. He looked