Max’s stomach knotted, and he ducked down so Jaden wouldn’t see him. He heard clomping on the front porch. A knock at the door.
Rosie went nuts and ran to the door, snarling and barking, but no way was Max going to follow her. He would pretend no one was home.
He stayed out of sight, crouching behind the couch, listening while Jaden kept knocking. Max’s heart was banging wildly. What would Jaden do? Did he know Max was home? Would he break a window to get in? And what if he came inside? Where could Max hide? Maybe he should get a rolling pin to protect himself. Or a cricket bat. Or maybe Rosie would attack Jaden—she had sharp teeth and she hated him because of what he’d done to her pups. She must remember him throwing Bruiser up in the air.
Everything went quiet, and Max chanced a peek from behind the couch. Jaden was at the window. He had his hands up like goggles so he could see in. Max’s heart almost stopped. He sank back to the floor.
After a while, he heard footsteps leaving the porch. He checked the window again. Jaden had disappeared.
Now Rosie raced to the back door, growling, and the handle rattled. Max was so scared he thought he might vomit. It was lucky he’d locked the doors, or Jaden would be inside now, grabbing him by the neck and choking him. If he got in, Jaden might destroy the place and Max wouldn’t be able to stop him. Jaden’s black book of evidence meant Max couldn’t defend himself.
Next door, Bonnie was still yapping, high-pitched and frantic. Max’s back door had stopped rattling, so he crawled to the window and peeped out. No Jaden.
Max inched a little higher and saw Jaden on the footpath, hands on hips, staring at the house, mouth pinched, eyes hard. He stood there a long time while Max leaned against the wall, hardly breathing, too scared to move. His stomach was aching from being bent over. He wished Mum and Dad would come home.
Jaden walked over to Leon’s place. What was he doing? Bonnie raced up and down, barking. The wire zinged as she threw herself at the fence and bounced off. Then all went quiet.
Max peeked out, trying to get a view of Leon’s yard, but he couldn’t see Bonnie. She should still have been yapping at Jaden. And Max couldn’t see him either.
Then he noticed Leon’s gate was open.
He was terrified, sick with worry. Jaden must have opened it and let Bonnie out. She was just a pup and didn’t know about cars—she might run down to the highway and get hit.
He heard footsteps on the front porch again, and Jaden squinted in at the window. Max shrank into a ball.
When he looked up a few seconds later, Jaden was sprinting down the street.
Max raced out, looking for Bonnie. He ran to the footpath and glanced down the street. No sign of Jaden or the dog.
Max was crying now. He wished he’d been brave enough to tell Jaden to piss off. He wished he could tell someone what Jaden had done, but then Jaden would tell his policeman father about the stealing. Max saw himself in prison with bars on the doors. He would have to wear orange pyjamas, and live in a concrete cell with a hard, narrow bed.
Everything was messed up. Back inside, Max sat on the couch, feeling terrible.
It wasn’t long before Leon’s car pulled up next door. Rosie barked, so Max let her out and she dashed to the fence, yapping. Leon got out of his car like an old man. He had a limp and was covered in mud. He hobbled up the driveway, then paused. His walk sped up until he was running into the yard, yelling, ‘Bonnie!’ Then he rushed to the street and stared down it, like Max had just a few minutes ago.
Mum and Dad arrived at that exact same moment. Max saw Mum talking to Leon through the car window. He couldn’t hear what they said, just Leon’s lips moving and a worried look on his face.
Dad parked in the driveway, and Mum came into the house. ‘Max. Where are you? Come quick. Bonnie’s missing.’
Max slunk from the lounge room.
Mum frowned at him, hands on her hips. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘Nothing. Hanging out here.’
‘Go outside and help Leon. Bonnie’s gone. Someone opened the gate.’
‘It wasn’t me.’
Mum’s frown deepened. ‘I didn’t say it was, did I?’
Max shook his head.
But Mum was suspicious. ‘You wouldn’t do something like that, would you?’
‘No. I love Bonnie.’
‘You didn’t go round there to play with her and forget to shut the gate?’
‘No, Mum. I always shut it.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
She came with him over to Leon’s.
‘I don’t know how she got out,’ Leon said. ‘Maybe I didn’t shut the gate properly.’
‘These things happen,’ Mum said. ‘Let’s start looking in the street. Max will go find some friends to help, and I’ll knock on doors and ask if anyone’s seen her.’
Max was glad Mum was in charge. She was the best. She always knew what to do.
He grabbed his bike and took off, pedalling furiously. It felt good to do something at last. He raced down the street, past Robbo’s log truck, calling for Bonnie. Robbo’s ute came up the hill, so Max stopped and waved. Trudi opened the passenger window and looked out at him with her sad eyes. ‘Bonnie’s gone,’ Max said. ‘Did you see a dog on the road?’
‘No, but I’ll come and help look for her.’ Trudi clambered out of the car.
‘Don’t overdo it,’ Robbo warned.
‘I won’t. I want to help.’
Max took off down the street again. He stopped at a house where a kid from school lived. When Max told him Bonnie was missing, he was keen to help. Soon they were riding up and down on bikes, yelling Bonnie’s name.
Callum joined in too, but not Jaden—he was nowhere.
All over town, people came out of their houses to help search for Bonnie. Everywhere Max went people were calling her name. Nobody wanted her to be lost or hit by a car. Especially Max.
He stopped at the highway with his heart thumping. He was on his own now. The other kids had split up and gone in different directions. He wasn’t sure where to go next. If Bonnie had run down the highway she could be halfway to the next town by now. She could be sniffing around on somebody’s farm, or hiding under a car. She could be anywhere.
The main street was full of people and cars because the footy had just finished. Max checked the rubbish-hopper behind the hardware, but Bonnie wasn’t there. Maybe she’d gone exploring down one of the lanes. He rode to the takeaway, dropped his bike on the footpath and ran in. ‘Have you seen a dog?’ he asked Miki. ‘Bonnie’s missing.’
Miki turned towards him and shook her head. It was the first time he’d noticed her face was shaped like a heart.
‘Can you come and help look for her?’
Kurt was big and dark like a bodyguard. ‘No, she can’t. She has to keep working.’
Miki gave a sad smile and said sorry. Then she glanced past him and pointed. ‘There she is.’
Max spun to see a grey shape slinking along the footpath. He raced outside calling, ‘Bonnie.’ The dog paused, but her eyes were wild and frightened, and she didn’t stop—she was too scared.
Max heard running footsteps and turned to see Leon pounding down the footpath. ‘Hey,’ Leon called out. ‘Someone try to catch that dog.’
People stared at him, but nobody moved. It was like they were frozen.
A car was driving up the street, and suddenly Bonnie flashed across the tarmac and there was a thud and she tumbled under the wheels.
Leon’s yell was raw. He sprinted past Max and waved frantically at the driver, who’d already stopped the car.
Max saw Bonnie lying on the road. She was all stiff with straight legs and she was breathing hard with clamped teeth, and she didn’t seem to know where she was.
A lady driver got out, someone from out of town. She was talking high and fast. ‘Oh my God! What happened? Have I hit a dog? Is it dead?’ She started crying, and then Max was crying too. He was sobbing, his body shaking.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and Miki was standing beside him. She was calm and quiet, even though her face was twisted with worry.
Max saw Leon bending over and gently lifting the dog. He had Bonnie in his arms, and she was huffing loudly. Her eyes had gone all quivery and weird.
‘Is she dead?’ the driver wailed.
‘No. She’s still breathing.’
‘Maybe she’s brain-damaged,’ the lady said.
Leon was soft with the dog, like a mother. Max liked the way he was caring for her. Max was scared, but Leon’s hands on the dog made him feel better.
‘I have to get her to the vet,’ Leon said, glancing around wildly. ‘Damn! I’ll have to run home for my car.’
Max wished he had a car so he could take Leon and Bonnie to the vet. He would drive fast like an ambulance. He would break all the speed limits, and he wouldn’t care if the cops caught him and gave him a fine. He would tell them he was saving Bonnie.
Max heard Kurt order Miki to get back in the shop. He felt her hand fall from his shoulder, but he couldn’t turn around because he was watching the dog. Who would take Bonnie to the vet?
Then Max heard a gruff voice. ‘I’ll take you.’
It was Toby. His F250 ute was just behind the crazy lady’s car, and he was leaning out of the window, beckoning to Leon.
Leon carried Bonnie down the street, blood dripping from her nose. Toby swung open the door so Leon could get in with the dog. Then Toby banged his hand on the side of his car and shouted, ‘Come on, lady. Move your car so we can get going.’
The lady bustled into her car and pulled over in front of the post office. Then Toby drove up the street, revving his engine loudly.
Max waved to Leon as they went past, but Leon didn’t see him because he was bent over Bonnie. They were gone in a cloud of blue fumes.
When Max turned around to walk up the street, he saw Miki at the door of the shop. Kurt was a shadow behind her, his hand on her arm. He was like a bear holding on to her. She saw Max and waved, then Kurt tugged her into the shop.
31
In the back seat of Toby’s ute, Leon shoved Coke cans and chocolate wrappers onto the floor, then sat with his broken dog on his lap. His hands shook as he stroked her battered head. She had scrapes and nicks everywhere, drops of blood from her nose. She was so unlike her usual self. How many times had he wished she would grow up and become quieter? Now his little dog was in pain.
Toby was concentrating on driving. They were already on the highway and heading out of town past the footy field, which was almost empty, only a few cars left—probably somebody cleaning the change rooms after the game. Toby was disregarding the speed signs.
‘Thanks for taking me,’ Leon said.
Toby hurled his ute around corners. ‘It’s been a bad day. How’s she going?’
‘She doesn’t look good.’ Leon ran a hand over Bonnie’s shoulder. She was more settled now and the huffing had subsided, but it was as if she had wilted, all her puppy energy gone. ‘I can’t believe I’m so upset about a dog.’
‘Part of your family,’ Toby said.
Leon tugged gently at Bonnie’s soft ears as they spun down to the river, following the road along the silvery water.
‘Dogs are great,’ Toby went on. ‘Always happy to see you.’ He chuckled. ‘More than I can say for the missus.’
‘I’ve heard your missus is a good woman.’
‘Yeah.’ Toby glanced in the rear-view mirror. ‘Steph puts up with me.’ He was fiddling with his phone while he kept an eye on the road. He handed the phone back to Leon. ‘Want to call the vet and let her know you’re coming? I’ve pulled up the number.’
Leon was relieved when Kate answered the call. He quickly explained the situation before asking, ‘Is it okay to see us?’
‘Sure. Just knock on the door.’
He reached forward and passed the phone back to Toby. ‘Heard any more about Mooney?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. Has to take two weeks off.’ Toby shook his head. ‘Imagine Mooney at home for that long. Poor Liz.’
‘Yeah, poor Liz.’ Leon leaned on the words heavily, because she deserved all their sympathy—and maybe it was time for someone to acknowledge it. Everyone knew about Mooney, didn’t they? Yet Leon had noticed the silence in town, and he knew it was wrong. He’d experienced the same silence in his parents’ home: the denial and pretence that gave people permission not to say anything. It wore them away, killed their spirits. Like cancer.
In the rear-view mirror, Toby’s eyes locked on Leon’s then dodged away.
He knew.
Leon waited for him to say something, but the silence lengthened. Maybe Toby was going to brush off Leon’s comment or ignore it.
Leon had given a slab of his life trying to make things right for his mum and protect her, but he’d been quiet in this town for too long. ‘My dad used to hit my mum,’ he said. ‘I know these things can be tough to resolve, but maybe someone should look out for Liz. Keep an eye on things.’
Toby’s gaze was fixed on the road, his brow a dark line, thunderous. Then he said, ‘It’s bullshit, that stuff. I’ll talk to Steph and we’ll work something out. Should’ve done it ages ago.’
Their eyes connected again in the mirror, and Leon nodded. ‘It’s never too late.’
At the vet clinic, Leon lifted Bonnie out.
‘Want me to wait?’ Toby asked.
‘No thanks. I don’t know how long it’ll take. You’re good to go.’
‘How will you get home?’
‘Catch a bus or a taxi. Depends on how long it takes.’
Toby grabbed a receipt from the floor and wrote a mobile number on it. ‘Call me if you need a lift.’
‘Thanks.’
Toby grinned. ‘Reckon we’re even now.’
Leon smiled. ‘Reckon we are.’
32
Monday, Miki was up early, ready to go to the forest. But after breakfast, Kurt announced he was going without her. She felt herself deflating, and she followed him, dejected, to the door. ‘Why can’t I come?’
‘Because I’m going alone, and then I’m going straight on to Hobart.’ He seized his coat and keys, blocking her out.
‘I want to smell the trees,’ she pleaded. ‘It helps me get through the week.’
‘Fuck your week. You don’t need to smell trees.’
She watched him slide his feet into gumboots and lift his pack from the hook by the door. ‘Please, Kurt. Let me come.’
His mouth flatlined. ‘Not happening.’
‘Why not?’
He glared at her. ‘You ought to know.’ He gathered everything together and slammed the door on the way out. The lock clunked home.
He’d been sullen since Saturday. All she’d done was to comfort poor Max, who had been beside himself with distress, but Kurt had been furious that she’d defied him by going out onto the footpath. It wasn’t such a big deal, and she was angry with him for being irrational. Why couldn’t she help? Where was the harm in it?
She suspected something else was bothering him. Possibly the key. Every day she watched him, trying to detect in his body language if he’d discovered her deception. She studied his frown over breakfast and tiptoed around him. But she’d lost her ability to read him. The constant vigilance exhausted her: always holding her breath, always anticipating the moment he might confront her. It made her edgy around him. It affected her sleep.
But now he’d gone, her blood was stirring. Freedom and air were what she needed. Kurt could leave her at home, but he couldn’t stop her from going out. She fetched the key from the hole in her mattress and went to insert it in the lock.
But the key wouldn’t slide in. Her heart kicked. She tried again, but it still wouldn’t fit. A chill spread through her as she inspected the key and the lock. They looked the same, but they’d changed.
She sat at the kitchen table, back straight, hands folded. She could barely breathe. All these weeks of wondering whether Kurt knew abou
t the key, and perhaps he’d known all along. Her stomach crawled. Why hadn’t he said anything? And how was he planning to punish her?
She stared through the kitchen window into the lane and her skin prickled with stress. What was bothering her, she realised, was the tight feeling of being caught out. The key had made her life larger; now everything would be constricted again.
She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. The room felt small and the walls pressed in as if they were shrinking. She couldn’t lie still, tossing from side to side, jerking her legs. She was trapped, and the restlessness inside her was like a river welling over its banks. The more she couldn’t have freedom, the more she desired it. She wanted to be outside: to feel the cold air, smell the wood smoke and cut grass, the scent of bread baking just up the street. She wanted to hear the sounds of the town. She wanted to stretch her legs and swing her arms and stride along the road—it didn’t matter where.
She paced the rooms, searching for another way out. She considered the windows—apart from the shopfront windows, which couldn’t be opened, there was only the kitchen window. When they’d moved in, Kurt had nailed it shut to prevent burglaries. Now she wondered if it had been more about keeping her in.
She tugged at the nail with her fingers, but it was too tight to pull out. She tried to slide a butterknife under the nail’s head, but the blade was too thick, so she tried a paring knife that Kurt had recently sharpened. This was slightly more successful—she could at least insert the tip under the nail. Taking care not to damage the paint, she worked her way around the rim of the nail, prising it up a little. Then she returned to the butterknife and tried to lever the nail up. The nail-head was well embedded in the window frame, and at first she was discouraged. But she had all day. If she was patient, she would get there, a fraction at a time.
It was mid-morning before she had loosened the nail, and by then she was sweating with the stress of it, worried Kurt might notice the damage. If you looked closely, the nail-head was now slightly deformed and there were several small chips in the windowsill. Another twenty minutes of wriggling the nail and she was able to slide it out.
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