Summer

by Michelle Zoetemeyer

  We waited for everyone to leave the theatre before getting up. Jim and Lisa were still sitting in their chairs smooching. They totally ignored the people walking past them. I looked at Tom and he rolled his eyes. “C’mon,” he said, barging past a group of people in front of us, “I’ll race you outside.”

  I was relieved to see that nothing had changed between us. He was still Tom and I was still Jenny, and we were still best friends.

  ***

  As we left the pictures, I could see a group of kids sitting in the foyer where we’d sat earlier. I wondered what name they’d give Tom and me when they saw us coming out. Probably Bobby and Cindy Brady. Tom has brown curly hair and freckles just like Bobby Brady and with my blonde hair in plaits, we certainly could’ve passed as the youngest of the Brady children.

  We stepped outside into the blinding day, and waited while Jim considered what to do next. “How about some fish and chips for lunch?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure we can get some from the shop near the beach.”

  Tom looked my way. “How bout you, do you want some?”

  “Sure.”

  “C’mon then,” he said, taking off like a bullet, “last one to DJ’s is a rotten egg.”

  I didn’t complain about having to run in the heat, there was no way I wanted to watch Lisa’s bum bounce all the way to the beach. Besides, her little-girl voice was starting to get on my nerves.

  By the time we stopped out the front of David Jones, we were both hot and sweaty and were out of breath. We sat on a bench and waited for the lovebirds to catch up. I looked around me, delighted. I thought the mall was the most amazing place I’d seen. Decked out with spectacular Christmas decorations, the shops glittered and sparkled from every angle. David Jones’ window looked like a scene from a fairy tale. A variety of Christmas characters danced and twirled while Santa’s helpers hammered away beside them.

  Crowds of people walked past. Some of them were loaded up with more parcels and bags than they could comfortably carry. We even saw an old hobo who looked like he carried sufficient germs to give my mum a coronary and ensure I copped a week’s worth of Dettol baths just for being within ten feet of him. He scrounged through garbage bins, picking out empty drink cans and putting them in a sack that he dragged along behind him. His clothes were dirty, brown and tattered, and he looked and smelled like he hadn’t had a bath in months. He didn’t seem to notice how out of place he looked with the cheerful music playing from hidden speakers and the streamers and tinsel that was slung around everywhere.

  Jim and Lisa finally caught up and we followed them through the crowds, slowly making our way to the top of the mall and stopping along the way for them to window shop. We waited outside while Jim went into Sound World to get AC/DC’s new album. While he was in buying the record, Lisa went into the shop next door and came out with some bangles. “To go with my new red dress,” she explained in her little girl voice.

  As if we cared.

  Jim said if we had time after the beach, he wanted to get his parents a Christmas present. “What do reckon I should get Mum and Dad for Christmas?” he asked Tom.

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “Hey, watch your mouth there, Champ. You’re not too big to put across my knee and give a good hiding to, you know.” Jim ruffled Tom’s hair.

  Mum was right, Jim is a nice guy. I wish I had a big brother like him. He’s certainly a lot better than that little pansy, Brian. I know Tom likes him too; he always looks forward to him coming home.

  “I was thinking of getting them one of those Soda Stream thingys. You know; the ones they advertise on telly.”

  “Fair enough,” said Tom. “I’m sure they’d love that.”

  I wasn’t. The Undertaker was the last person on earth I could imagine enjoying a fizzy drink, other than a KB that is. Still, I felt it was my duty as a best friend to help Tom out. Besides, I hadn’t overlooked the possibility that such a gift would be far more useful to Tom and me than it would be to the Undertaker. “Yeah, I’m with Tom. I reckon they’d love one,” I added. “I know my parents would.”

  Jim seemed pleased with himself for having thought of the idea in the first place. “I’m sure David Jones will sell them,” he said. “If not, we can stop at Waltons. It’s just down the road.”

  We walked the rest of the way uninterrupted. Lisa and Jim stopped at the shop to buy some fish and chips as promised. It was too hot and crowded in the shop for us, so we waited outside. Eventually, they came back out carrying a big parcel wrapped in newspaper and a large bottle of drink.

  We walked the rest of the way to the beach and found a clear patch to lay out our towels. It had been so long since I’d been to the beach that I’d almost forgotten how much fun it was. Just like the mall, the beach was packed out. I could see kids building sandcastles and writing in the sand and grownups roasting in the sun or sitting under umbrellas. Jim thought it was low tide because the waves were a decent size without being too big. I looked over to the left of me and saw people out near Nobby’s point surfing. From where I sat they looked dangerously close to the rocks.

  The sky was deep blue with not a cloud in sight. The heat of the sun burned my neck, but I didn’t want to take my plaits out because my hair would get tangled. I could feel the hot sand through my towel. Every summer I get so burnt that my nose gets red and scabby. Mum says I’m supposed to wear a hat and sun block when I go in the sun, but I forgot to bring them.

  We sat on our towels and ate the fish and chips. They sure were delicious. I like hot chips the best when they’re wrapped up and eaten from a hole in the top of the paper. The chips stay nice and hot that way and you never know when you’re going to reach the bottom. Sometimes when I have money, which isn’t very often, Tom and me ride all the way to Pedro’s so we can get a bag of chips each and eat them straight from the newspaper. Whenever Mum buys chips she always gets one big lot like Jim just did, and puts them on plates or opens them up and lets us eat from the paper. They’re still nice that way, but not as nice as when you have a bag all to yourself.

  By the time I’d finished, my hands were slippery from the grease. Jim said to wash them in the surf and suggested Tom do the same. He said we weren’t allowed in the water for a swim for half an hour after eating, so we decided to dig a big hole instead. I took my dress off, folded it up carefully, and put it in my bag. We left our things with Jim and tiptoed across the hot sand and down to the water’s edge.

  After washing the grease from our hands and splashing each other until we were soaked, we dug a hole so big we could both sit in it. The deeper we made it, the more water got inside. Eventually, we ended up with a small wading pool. We sat in the pool cooling ourselves, impatiently waiting for half an hour to go by so that we could go into the surf.

  We looked over to where Jim and Lisa were sitting and waved. Jim was sitting up smoking a cigarette, he waved back. Lisa was lying on her towel sunbaking. She was wearing a pink crocheted bikini that left very little to the imagination. If I thought she attracted a lot of attention walking down the street, I was wrong. That was nothing compared to the looks she got in her bikini.

  She must have covered herself in baby oil, because her skin glistened in the sun. I don’t know how she stands that greasy stuff all over her. I smothered myself in it last summer and lay in the sun for a couple of hours. Mum was so angry with me when she found out. So was Kate, I used her oil. I got so burnt I blistered and couldn’t wear my school uniform. It’s even worse at the beach. The sand sticks to you and you end up looking like a lamington.

  Lisa saw Jim waving and sat up. When she saw that it was us she was waving too, she waved also. I looked at her round curvy body and inspected my firm skinny one. I wondered if I would ever have curves like that. Even though Tracy and Kate have boobs, they still don’t have curves like Lisa. They’re both skinny and lanky like me. Kate’s a bit rounder than Tracy, but she still has a long way to go before she has a body like Lisa’s. Come to think
of it, she probably never will. Mum’s older than Lisa and she still doesn’t have that many curves.

  Tom pointed animatedly towards the water and then to his wrist. Jim looked down at his watch and gave us the thumbs up. We didn’t need to be told twice; we jumped up and ran for the waves. The water was cold enough to take our breath away. I could feel the stickiness dissolve as soon as I hit the water. After a short time, it no longer felt that cold. We went in as far as our waists and waited for the waves to come. When they did, we dived through them and out the other side.

  “Here comes a big one,” Tom yelled. “Let’s ride it in.”

  We both stood facing the sand with our heads turned towards the oncoming wave. It looked huge. As the wave reached us, we let it pick us up and carry us away. I kept my head up so I wouldn’t get a mouthful of water and rode the rest of the way to shore. Until today, I didn’t know how to do that, but we watched the other kids and copied what they did.

  “Hey, we’re starting to get really good at this,” I said with satisfaction.

  Tom was looking the other way and never heard what I said. “Watch out,” I screamed. Another wave was just about to crash on top of us. Tom heard me just in time. He turned around and jumped up, letting the wave pass around his neck and shoulders.

  We waded back out and waited for the next big one. At the exact moment that I turned around to check behind me, a mountain of water crashed down on top of me, knocking me off balance and pushing me under. The weight of the water took me by surprise. I felt myself tumble around and around, without knowing which way was up. I struggled to get up, but the force of the water kept me under. I tried to breathe, but got a mouthful of water instead. I could feel myself being tossed around like a rag doll, and hoped like hell that my arms and legs were sewn on a lot stronger than some stupid stuffed toy.

  I caught a glimpse of blue sky and reached for it. As I did so, I felt the sensation of being drawn under once more. By the time I opened my mouth to take a breath, it was too late; the water had engulfed me completely.

  Around and around I tumbled.

  Chapter 24

  Saturday, 30 November 1968

  “Hey Pete,” Barry Leeman slapped Peter on the back as he approached the group, “good to see you mate.”

  Peter grudgingly took his eyes off Maggie, and acknowledged Barry Leeman. Beside him, Paul Stanhope and Reg Delaney indulged in their usual antics. It was Reg who was holding forth this time, something about engineering reform or some equally uninteresting subject. It didn’t matter what they discussed – it could have been anything from the merits of President Johnson ordering a halt to the US bombing of North Vietnam, or whether or not the Rabitohs were capable of surpassing St George’s eleven year reign – the common theme throughout was that they always did it with such fervour and seriousness that any witness to the event would be forgiven for thinking that a debate of historic proportions was taking place. As such, it was not uncommon for Paul and Reg’s two-man show to attract an audience. Of course, once it became apparent that the only point of interest was the manner in which two otherwise reputable and well-educated university professors conducted their debate, the crowd would invariably disperse.

  Peter reluctantly conceded that over the years he had been skillfully wrangled into a number of their debates before finally gaining sufficient experience to recognise the warning signs. It was therefore with considerable skill that Peter assessed the size of today’s audience and concluded that the conversation was still in its infancy. The realisation was almost enough to make him groan audibly, but he checked himself just in time.

  Barry talked over the top of the two-man show. As hard as it was to ignore him, Peter was more interested in Maggie, who was on her way inside, to pay attention to anything that Barry was saying. Peter's heart skipped a beat as he watched Maggie stop by the back door at Stephen’s insistence. He held his breath as she extended her hand and introduced herself to Jane, who stood looking absolutely ravishing next to Charlene.

  He was not surprised to see Jane sneak a look his way as she shook Maggie’s offered hand. Peter couldn’t believe the cheek of the girl. More importantly though, he couldn’t remember the last time a situation had made him feel as uneasy as the one unfolding before him. If that wasn’t bad enough, it was clear that where his son was concerned, Jane’s mesmerising personality was already paying dividends. Despite the distance between them, Peter could see the soppy way Stephen looked at her and the intent way he hung on her every word.

  Peter could feel the butterflies in his gut taking flight. It was so apparent that Stephen had become smitten with the girl that it was almost too much for Peter to watch. Unfortunately, Peter’s morbid fascination with the situation was too great for him to do the sensible thing and look away, and he was forced to witness his wife chatting away happily with the one person capable of destroying their world.

  Barry’s voice intruded on his private hell. “Whadya reckon?”

  “Um – sorry, what was that mate?”

  Barry caught Peter looking in the direction of Jane and mistook Peter's lack of attention for something more perverse. “You dirty dog, you.”

  Peter looked confused. “Huh?”

  Barry gave Peter a friendly nudge. “She’s not a bad sort ay?”

  “Who?” It took Peter a moment to realise what Barry was implying.

  Barry chuckled loudly. “Ah, come on mate, it’s me Baz. You got nothin’ to worry about with me. It’s not as if I’m going to let your missus know you were perving on one of your students.”

  Peter looked horrified. “Um, I was actually watching Maggie,” he said unconvincingly.

  “Yeah, sure you were mate,” Barry answered dismissively. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be thirty years younger. They sure didn’t build them like that when I was young.”

  Peter was so desperate to change the subject that he actually took the time to listen to the conversation taking place between Reg and Paul next to him. Reg pointed his finger repeatedly at Paul. “I’ll tell you what we need. Consistency, that’s what. We need a set of general principles for course arrangement and a program for each course that fits within the defined set of principles. And I don’t just mean for our university, I mean for all universities; Australia wide. As it stands, course length from one university to the next isn’t even consistent. It’s anywhere from three to five years. Staff to student contact hours range from eighteen hours a week to twenty-two, for Christ sake. Why can’t we just get the basics right?”

  “Never mind that airy-fairy set of principles; it’s nothing but a load of codswallop, if you ask me,” Paul swiped Reg’s finger from his face. “What we need to do is spend more money on research and development and to start facing our responsibilities with regard to highway construction, water resources development, urban renewal and waste disposal.

  “And that’s not all,” Paul raised his voice to let Reg know he hadn’t finished talking yet, “we need to start investing more in our primary and secondary education system. That’s where our engineers of tomorrow will come from.”

  Peter pretended to listen intently to Reg and Paul waffle on, but in reality he was paying more attention to Jane and Stephen than he was to anything they were saying. As soon as Maggie had walked inside, Jane had immediately set to work on Stephen. He watched as she cleverly cast her spell. She started by giving Stephen her undivided attention; taking her eyes off him only to throw an occasional look Peter's way. Judging by the way Stephen beamed at her, Peter guessed that he was unaware of her intermittent indiscretions.

  Peter had to admit that she was good. Within seconds of laying her eyes on Stephen, she had sized up the situation and had begun to reel him in. She had not looked back once. He watched as the three of them walked towards the side of the house and stopped to talk to David. The subtle brushing of Jane’s arm against Stephen’s thigh and the slight way that they both hung back from the others did not escape him. In fact, the obvious intima
cy between them made him unreasonably furious. What game did she think she was playing? Did she think that by latching on to Stephen she could somehow get back at him? Peter had no idea what she was up to, but whatever it was, it made him extremely nervous.

  Vaguely listening to Reg ramble on about Professor Wood and the absurdity of compulsory humanity subjects for engineering students, Peter was thankful to see Maggie headed his way. She looked a bit green around the gills, but smiled at him when she caught his eye. He wondered if she was okay. For an insane moment he considered that her pallor must have had something to do with her conversation with Jane. Realising that it was just his paranoid state causing the irrational thoughts, he returned Maggie’s smile and waited for her to reach him. Just as he was certain that he was about to be rescued from the continuing debate, Pam grabbed Maggie by the arm and dragged her over to where the kids were standing, leaving Peter to fret about Maggie’s close proximity to Jane once more.

  For Peter, time stood still. Had he been thinking logically, he would have correctly gauged the length of time that Maggie stood next to Jane as no more than a minute of two, but in his heightened state, it felt more like an hour. Peter couldn’t remember the last time a situation had made him feel so tense. He had no way of knowing what Jane was saying to Maggie. Assuming she was saying anything at all, that is. He couldn’t be sure either way, because Pam stood in front of Maggie blocking his view, but naturally, he assumed the worst. In his mind, Jane was quietly telling Maggie everything that had transpired between them.

  Pam leaned over and gave Charlene a hug. As she did so, Peter caught sight of Maggie again. The pleasant smile on her face and the friendly wave she gave Jane and Charlene as they walked up the side of the house and off to an evening someplace else reassured Peter that, once again, his imagination was working overtime.

  Maggie and Pam left Stephen and David and walked back in Peter’s direction. Despite Maggie heading his way, he was unable to tear his eyes off Jane as she turned and walked along the side of the house and towards the front gate. For a split second he felt a flash of annoyance for being so weak, but then he saw Jane blow Stephen a kiss and felt his annoyance subside and fury take over. He was furious not because of the inviting way she looked at Stephen as she blew him the kiss, but because of the unexpected stab of jealousy that hit him like a rock in the head when she looked at his son that way.