Ruby Tuesday

by Hayley Lawrence

  ‘Foxtrot Romeo Yankee, on a triple worder,’ Erik says, grinning.

  ‘You don’t have to go all pilot on us,’ Alex says.

  But I don’t care how pilot he goes. This is vastly better than being at school with those horrific bananas.

  On his next turn, Erik spells out AERO.

  ‘Umm, I don’t think that’s a word,’ I say. ‘Is that a word?’ I ask Alex.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ he says. ‘Aero-nautical. Aero-plane. Aero-batics.’

  ‘But you just wrote aero,’ Alex says.

  ‘That’s a prefix,’ I say.

  ‘You’re really going to fight me on a word worth five points?’

  Alex shrugs. ‘We’ll let you have it. Only because you’re going to lose.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’

  I choose a couple more letters from the bag. My collection, useless. Only one word forms clearly before me. Using the E of aero, I give a sly grin and place my tiles one by one. Below the E, I add an R. Followed by an I. They both frown at my word as I fumble the last tile in my hand, and place a K below the I. Erik’s eyes lock onto mine and he gives me a smile. Then he swipes my letters off the board and presses them back into my hand.

  ‘It’s a name,’ he says.

  ‘You got aero. I get your name.’

  He shakes his head. ‘Doesn’t work like that. Aero means air.’

  ‘Erik,’ Alex says, shuffling her tiles. ‘You should take Ruby up while you’re here. Show her the sky. She’d love it.’ She turns to me. ‘You would, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t,’ I say. ‘I mean – I’ve seen the sky before.’

  From safely down here. Two feet planted firmly on terra firma. Where I know the furthest I can trip is one metre and sixty four centimetres down to earth.

  I don’t care for being up there, at the mercy of air pockets and downdrafts, buffeted by wind, with just a thin sheet of metal between myself and a three-thousand foot plummet.

  It would be like my nightmares. Even the idea of it makes me feel giddy.

  ‘Not from up there you haven’t,’ Alex says. ‘It’s incredible. Erik, take her!’

  ‘I’ll take her if she wants.’

  I clear my throat, look down at the scrabble board.

  ‘Yeah, um, no. I’m . . .’ I swallow. ‘I’d much rather just check out the sky from the earth. By myself.’

  ‘Ruby,’ Alex says, and laughs. ‘You’d be fine! You’re not still scared, are you?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Erik says. ‘Some people are scared to fly.’

  Scared. I hate hearing them say that. Erik used to call me Queen of the Forest, back when we were kids. Back when I was brave. It’s about more than that, though. A lot can go wrong with a plane. Even more can go wrong with a pilot. And now I know better than to put my trust where it hasn’t been earned.

  My face feels hot. It’s so unfair. Erik escaped this town, and now he owns the sky. With his Plan A life, he can rise above his troubles while I’m anchored to the earth by problems that threaten to bury me.

  And right now, the idea of him in all that lofty blue freedom makes me want to scream.

  ‘I’m not scared,’ I snap. ‘I simply don’t trust a guy with my life just because he has a few stripes on his shoulders.’ My words sound more bitter than I intended. But I’ve let too many people decide too many things for me lately.

  There’s a strained silence. Erik clears his throat.

  ‘Right. Well, I’m . . . going to the gents,’ he says.

  He leaves us to our game, and I wait for the door to close behind him.

  ‘Why?’ I whisper. ‘Why would you even . . .?’

  ‘Grandad said he’d take you when you turned sixteen.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he can’t, can he?’

  ‘Erik’s a good pilot, Ruby,’ Alex says stiffly.

  ‘Erik might be a good pilot,’ I whisper. ‘But I don’t know him anymore. It’s about more than just flying.’

  When Erik comes back, none of us are making eye contact.

  ‘Look, Ruby’s been through some stuff lately,’ Alex says awkwardly. I think it’s meant to be said in my defence, but her words stab me in the throat.

  ‘Stuff?’ Erik says.

  Before I can say I’m absolutely fine, Alex beats me to it.

  ‘Boy stuff. Arsehole stuff.’

  ‘Right,’ he says.

  All three of us are silent now, but my brain is firing at a million neurons per second. I steady my breathing, push slowly up from the concrete floor and reach for my bag.

  I can see Alex struggling to recover. ‘What I mean is, Ruby doesn’t want to go with you –’

  ‘I’m gonna head back,’ I say.

  ‘Ruby,’ Alex mutters. ‘I wasn’t advertising it.’

  But it’s too late. I turn my back on the two of them and walk out into the unforgiving glare of the afternoon sun.

  I don’t want the misery of the last few days to infect this new happiness. And I don’t want to spill the wounds of my life to Erik. He used to treat me as an equal when I was the fearless little forest queen. I don’t want him to know what I am now.

  He said I haven’t changed a bit, but there’s a lot about me he doesn’t know anymore.

  Erik doesn’t try to stop me leaving the airport, and Alex doesn’t follow me out. It’s not like I haven’t walked from here to the bus stop in town before, but the heat is stifling.

  The sun beats off the concrete along the cyclone fence, so I take the route through the dappled light of the forest. My pleated skirt and white shirt aren’t exactly the best gear for trekking. Twigs and bracken scratch at my legs.

  I think about what our neighbour Frank said. The drought’s sending the dogs out of the forest. Only a matter of time before they’ll attack someone. But I shake off those worries. I’ve got too many others.

  It’s too hot for the dogs now anyway. They’ll be curled up in the shade and won’t start prowling till the sun wilts and the land cools off.

  Leaves crunch beneath my feet. We’ve been officially drought declared for three years now, but it’s been dry even longer. Every summer the Rural Fire Service tells us to have a Survival Plan ready. Willaware was edged by fire a couple of years back. The smoke hung thick and gritty through the ridge-line along the forest and smeared the air brown for weeks, but the wind took the fire in the other direction.

  Part of me wishes it hadn’t. A bushfire like that one would burn everything. Take our house and all the broken memories with it. We’d be forced to start again.

  Mum’s fire evacuation plan, now that Nan is gone, is us and the Steinway. We’ve never discussed exactly how we’d move something weighing three hundred kilos, so my plan is really only Mum. I don’t need anything else. I could even live without my Yamaha.

  A trickle of sweat rolls down my ribs, followed by another. The bush is sparse here, the sun working fiery fingers through the foliage. I keep a line of sight with the road so I don’t get lost. A night stranded in the bush is not on my to-do list and I’ve got no water with me. The thought moves me closer to the road. Easy to go from knowing where you are to being completely lost. Things get lost so fast.

  A desperate feeling of abandonment shoots through me. It’s a pain I thought I’d buried years ago. But having Erik back seems to have unearthed it. Back then he didn’t have a choice, but I’d already had too many losses by that stage.

  It was the last bird we would set free. I didn’t know it yet though. Not until Erik spoke.

  ‘Hey, there’s something I have to tell you.’

  He could have said anything, I thought, anything and it would have been okay.

  ‘My family’s moving,’ he said.

  ‘Moving where?’

  My brain was skipping ahead to summers without him. Without the three of us.

  When he didn’t answer, I guessed. ‘To Sydney?’ It was a long way, but we could still do summer holidays.

  He shook his head. ‘Ireland. Dad’s
got a job there.’

  ‘Which island?’ Australia has tons of small islands. He could still come and visit.

  ‘No, not an island, the country Ireland. It’s ages away, like near England somewhere.’

  All I knew of England was that Mum called it the Other Side of the World. Her friends from the band she had played in had moved there before I was born. So I knew it meant when someone moved there, you never saw them again.

  I remember blinking in the sunlight streaming down on us like shards of glass. The way the bush lost its colour. Everything faded.

  ‘But . . . why?’ I needed to understand.

  He shrugged. ‘Dad was born there. He wants to go back.’

  ‘What about you?’ I asked. ‘Do you want to go?’

  He shrugged, squinted into the sunlight, looked away.

  ‘I want to stay here.’

  He picked up my hand. Looked at my palm like he could read a story in it. I remember the tear that slid down my face. Only one. The rest would come later, in the quiet of bed, when his words could properly sink their fangs in.

  ‘We could run away,’ I said. ‘Live in the forest like that boy in The Jungle Book. We could be the Forest King and Queen.’

  But in his smile, I saw acceptance. He let go of my hand and reached out for a wild flower down by his feet. Bright purple and bell shaped. Back then, I didn’t know what it was called. He picked it by the stem and handed it to me.

  ‘You gotta remember me, okay? Promise?’

  I dropped the flower, but I nodded.

  ‘You won’t lose me,’ he said. ‘We’ll always have Ally. I’ll come home to visit.’

  But he didn’t. And I didn’t always have Alex.

  It was true that Erik would always have Alex. They were bound by blood. I wished I’d been properly bound to Erik and Alex too. Wished that I belonged to their world, with their family wrapped about me like a cosy blanket.

  By the time I emerge from the bush, wiping a spider web from my hair, I’m drenched in sweat. Down the road I can see the far edge of town. The bus stop is up the hill, at the end of the row of shops along the main drag.

  My bag feels like it’s filled with stones as I push myself uphill. I can smell oil frying. School’s over so there’s a bunch of kids milling around the fish-and-chips shop. Other than that, it’s just the usual Willaware crowd. Dr David’s wife is pushing a stroller into the Bumpkins clothing store, Sue the pharmacist is exiting the hairdresser with perfectly blow-dried hair.

  My school shirt is wet, clinging to my chest like a damp tissue. My pink bra is visible. I try to pluck my shirt off my chest, but when I look down, it’s clinging right back on.

  I reach the bus stop, drop my bag down by my feet and stand as inconspicuously as I can while I wait for one to pull in. My hair is kinking like crazy and my curls have gone wild.

  An old couple walk by, looking me up and down in distaste. It’s the twin’s grandparents. Mrs Dubassi clutches her husband’s arm more tightly as he limps next to her on a walking stick. Chante says her grandma is a cranky old prude. I can’t imagine speaking about Nan that way. Nan wasn’t just tough, she was zesty and warm. She wouldn’t judge me for being sweaty.

  A loud throbbing noise cuts through my thoughts. A yellow Hilux pulls into the bus zone, stops in front of me. The passenger window slides down.

  ‘Oi!’

  An arm hangs out the window. Then I see his face.

  ‘Want a ride?’ Lukas says over the throb of the engine.

  Kyle is behind the wheel and, just as I notice him, he revs the engine. People stop on the street to look.

  ‘Get in,’ Lukas says. ‘We’ll take you for a spin.’

  That’s when I see Joey in the back seat, sitting next to Jack. Shaking his head, smiling like it’s all a joke.

  It doesn’t feel like a joke.

  I take in every detail around me, my senses sharp as a dagger. The Department Store is a few metres away to my left. Ms Campion from the greengrocer is browsing the window display. I could run to her. She’d be shocked, think I was crazy maybe. Overreacting. But I could do it.

  Because this feels very much like danger.

  ‘Come on, we’re all mates,’ Kyle calls from the driver’s seat, and he and Lukas exchange grins.

  I can see that. It didn’t take long. So much for losing good mates over me.

  ‘New wheels,’ Lukas says. ‘If you’re nice, Kyle might even let you hold his gearstick.’

  ‘She’d like to pull on my knob,’ Kyle says, revving the engine again. ‘Hey, Joey?’

  Kyle laughs and gets a fist bump from Lukas, who slaps the side of the car with his hand. Then he turns to say something to Joey and Jack.

  Something that means they find this amusing.

  So fricking hilarious.

  Joey laughs but doesn’t look at me. I edge back until the hot metal of the bus stop sign presses against my spine.

  I refuse to show them I’m afraid. And in that moment, even though my heart is hammering, I forget about being exhausted and hot. I feel alive and alert.

  But I also forget about the darkness inside Lukas. The way one wrong step can trigger him. The fine line I need to walk.

  ‘You’ll never be worth it to me, Lukas,’ I say. ‘So you can stop trying.’

  ‘Oooh,’ Lukas grins. In front of the boys, he’s all edges – putting on the tough show that guys save for each other. ‘Think you’re too good for me, huh?’

  He opens his car door and gets out.

  Lukas steps towards me – chest heaving.

  He grabs my wrist. Twists it.

  ‘Think you’re better than us, huh?’

  ‘Lukas, let go!’ I say.

  People on the main street are as still as mannequins. It’s like someone hit the pause button. Everyone’s staring at us. Assessing us. Some teenage drama, they’re thinking. Nothing that requires us to do anything awkward like get involved.

  Ms Campion slips inside the department store. She’d somehow felt like an ally.

  I pull away, but Lukas wrenches me back.

  Then there’s a flash of pleated skirt and a familiar voice.

  It’s Alex. ‘Get your hands off her, Lukas,’ she says.

  He drops my wrist.

  I stumble sideways, hitting my back against the bus shelter. My chest feels tight. So tight, I can barely breathe. Alex is yelling at Lukas, but I can’t make out the words. Just a high-pitched, crazy noise.

  The loss and grief of the last few weeks have hit me at once. It’s too much. I can’t stand up straight. My legs are weak and shaking, so I lean against the shelter.

  Somewhere nearby, a door slams. I look towards the noise, to where a blue ute is parked behind Kyle’s Hilux. Erik is next to the ute and walking towards us. His hands are balled by his sides, his face set hard.

  ‘You all right, Ruby?’ He doesn’t take his eyes off Lukas as he says it.

  ‘I’m okay,’ I whisper. Except I’m really talking to myself.

  Alex is next to me now, her hand at the small of my back.

  Kyle revs the engine, but Erik doesn’t seem to notice. ‘What’s going on here then,’ he asks, but it’s not really a question.

  ‘Man, I was offering her a lift,’ Lukas says.

  ‘Not what it looked like.’ Erik steps closer to me. Stands between me and Lukas. ‘Is he bothering you, Ruby?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whisper.

  It feels good to say it.

  Erik stands firm, face to face with Lukas.

  ‘Lukas, let’s go!’ Jack calls from inside the car.

  Joey leans forward towards the open passenger window. ‘Lukas, come on!’

  The front passenger door is wedged opened from the inside.

  ‘Get in, bro,’ Kyle says.

  Lukas takes a step back and lowers himself into the car without breaking eye contact with Erik. Slams the door shut. Then, looking at me, he spits into the gutter.

  There’s the rev of the engine as Kyle scre
eches off, leaving a cloud of burning rubber like smoke on the road.

  ‘What the fuck was that?’ Erik says.

  Alex shakes her head. ‘We’ll figure it out later. Let’s just get you home, yeah?’

  I let her guide me to the ute. She grabs my bag from the bus stop and climbs in after me. The stench of burning rubber has seeped into my nostrils, deep into my being.

  ‘Ruby, your hands.’

  They’re shaking uncontrollably. I press them together, but they only shake harder.

  ‘Let me tie your hair back,’ Alex says.

  I nod. She pulls a hairband off her wrist and ever so gently, lifts my hair in her hands, bundles it together on my head and ties it.

  ‘How’d you get into town?’ she says. ‘We went after you, and you were gone.’

  ‘I took the bush track. Alex, I’m so cold.’

  There’s a burst of air and the ute door swings shut as Erik gets in.

  ‘She can’t stop shaking,’ Alex says. ‘I think she’s in shock. Can you find something warm?’

  Erik rummages around on the passenger seat and pulls out a black leather bomber jacket. The kind pilots wear in the movies. ‘I have this?’

  Alex takes it, helps me get my arms in. I look down at my white shirt. It’s cold and wet with sweat. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop shaking.

  I catch Erik’s eye in the rear-view mirror as Alex zips me up. My own fingers are shaking too hard to do it.

  Erik smiles. ‘Those sleeves.’

  They hang a long way past my fingertips.

  I tuck my knees up, and let the jacket’s warmth soak into my icy skin. I rest my chin on my knees and my teeth rattle less violently.

  As Erik takes off, he says gently, ‘So you want to tell us what that was all about?’

  I shake my head and turn my attention to the window. I can’t focus on the landscape because the tears filling my eyes are deep, blurring everything into a smudge of colour.

  Alex and Erik are quiet, just like my crying, just like my shaking. Tears run down my cheeks, down my chin. They soak into my knees. Alex’s hand reaches for my shoulder, firm and secure.

  We reach the sign to Cooper’s Creek, the fork in the road where Erik will veer right.

  We drive on in silence until my tears dry up and my eyes grow heavy.