The Man in the Water

by David Burton

  The principal, Mr Hagger, was a big guy who always dressed in an orange polo shirt. It made him look like a carrot.

  ‘Good morning, boys and girls.’ He grinned and 400 students mumbled back. ‘I’d like to begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land.’

  Will scoffed and leant over to Shaun. ‘He still hasn’t figured out how to say their names.’

  Shaun didn’t concentrate on Mr Hagger’s welcome speech, and he daydreamed through most of the rest of the day. Shaun and Will had English with Tenner for the last class. Shaun didn’t mind Tenner. He was an older guy with an almost permanent case of the grumps, but he was just a big nerd. He had glasses and a moustache.

  As they dropped their bags at the side of the room, Shaun’s eyes met Megan’s.

  He waved.

  ‘Oooooo,’ cooed Will. ‘Lover girl’s back.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Shaun hit him in the stomach.

  Shaun was in love with Megan. That was really all there was to it. He always had been. His desk at home was covered with years of stinky, dripping poems about her.

  Megan had always been nice to Shaun. She was in the debating team with him and Will, but she loved sport too. She had blue eyes and shoulder-length hair.

  ‘This is the year,’ Will said, sliding into a seat beside Shaun. ‘You’re gonna do it.’

  Shaun had imagined revealing his secret crush for years, but he’d never found the courage. If everything went according to plan, they’d go to this year’s semi-formal together.

  The two boys took their seats at the front of the classroom.

  ‘Sir,’ Shaun was holding out his phone, ‘can I plug this in somewhere?’

  Tenner’s mouth thinned. ‘It’s lovely seeing you too, Shaun. How were your holidays?’

  ‘Fine, thanks. Can I just plug it in over there, or—’

  Tenner held up his hand. ‘You can survive for one more period without your phone.’

  Shaun sighed. Tenner was such a pain sometimes.

  ‘Honestly, though,’ Will said, leaning in, ‘you’re going to kiss Megan this year. Bet you a hundred bucks.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  Will shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes she looks at you and I reckon, you know, she could like you.’

  Shaun looked over at Megan. She was talking with one of her friends and laughing. Tenner clapped his hands for silence.

  ‘You reckon?’ Shaun said, and Will nodded.

  ‘For real.’

  Shaun’s mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed hard and opened his notebook.

  The topic was critical literacy. Or symbolism. Or something. Tenner was waving a big ruler in his hand. Shaun couldn’t hear him over Will.

  ‘You should ask her to the semi-formal ASAP, I reckon. Lock her in. You know, some of the footy team are going to want to—’

  Shaun glared at him. Will grinned.

  ‘You gotta do it, man. You gotta rip it off like a bandaid. Trust me. I know.’

  ‘How do you know anything about girls?’

  Will raised one eyebrow. ‘Oh, young student, you have so much to learn.’

  ‘Would you just—’

  SLAP. The wooden ruler hit the desk. It broke instantly. Shaun felt a sharp splinter in his eye.

  He gasped with pain as he clapped his hand over his eye.

  Tenner was in shock. ‘Shaun, you should’ve been quiet,’ he said, as if nothing had happened.

  Shaun could hear giggling behind him.

  He wanted to punch something, but his eye was stinging and rough. ‘I think I need to go to sick bay,’ he mumbled. He didn’t check if Megan was watching. Of course she was.

  ‘All right,’ Tenner said, ‘but come straight back. I’m sure you’re fine.’

  Shaun got up, left the air-conditioned cool of the classroom, and the dry, heavy heat belted him across the face.

  There was no way he’d be going back to class. Not after what happened. And Megan would think he was a weak piece of crap anyway.

  Half an hour later, Shaun saw the body.

  ‘Bullshit,’ said Will.

  It was lunchtime the following day.

  ‘It’s true.’ Shaun elbowed him. ‘I swear. He was dead and right there, in front of me. And then gone.’

  Will peered around the tree, keeping an eye out for approaching teachers. But the nearest one on duty was watching the Year 8 boys tear round the oval. He thought for a second before turning back to Shaun. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Come on! How can I not be sure about a dead body? It was right there. I touched it.’

  ‘You touched it?’

  Shaun looked away, ashamed, thinking back to the weird chill when he’d held the dead man’s hand. It was unlike any feeling he’d ever had. ‘You’ve got to believe me.’

  Will stared at him. ‘Is this a prank or something? Are you making some weird video?’

  ‘The body was real,’ Shaun said. ‘I promise. Come back to the lake with me after school and I’ll show you the exact spot. There might be clues or something.’

  ‘Clues?’

  ‘About what happened to the body. I didn’t have time to look last night cause the cop said I had to go home.’

  Will nodded, his smile suddenly bright again. ‘All right, we can go. We can do some real CSI stuff.’

  ‘So, you believe me?’

  ‘I guess. If you’re lying, you’re really weird. An actual body?’

  Shaun took a swig from his water bottle. ‘Yep. I know. It was full on.’

  ‘Full. On.’

  They jumped when Megan rounded the corner.

  ‘Hey,’ she said.

  ‘Jesus. How do you do that?’ said Will. ‘You’re like a ninja.’

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘I am a ninja.’

  Shaun always laughed at Megan’s jokes, no matter how funny they actually were.

  ‘How much did you just hear?’ Will’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  ‘Of you two talking?’

  Will nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Nothing – why?’

  He shrugged. ‘Also nothing.’

  Megan rolled her eyes. Shaun smiled and nodded, like he was on her side, but he wasn’t sure that she noticed.

  ‘Tenner wants you two for a newsletter photo,’ she said.

  He groaned. ‘Tenner with that flippin’ camera. Why does he want us?’

  ‘We’re the debating team,’ she said.

  Will rolled his eyes. ‘Are we? We haven’t even talked about doing it this year.’

  ‘We’ve got to do it!’ Shaun cried, a bit too quickly. Last year, the three of them had won a few debates. Shaun had dragged Will along to the lunchtime meetings, mostly because it was an excuse to hang out with Megan. They’d all had to bundle into her car, with her mum driving, and head for the coast to debate other schools. Those few hours together – outside school, eating Macca’s, blasting the music on Will’s phone for the drive home – they were some of Shaun’s favourite memories.

  ‘No-one gives a crap about debating,’ Will moaned. ‘Does Tenner really want a photo?’

  ‘There’s new money apparently,’ Megan said. ‘The mine’s given the school a butt tonne for regional development or something.’

  ‘For the whole school, or just for debating?’ Shaun said. When the mine decided to sponsor something it was usually a big deal. Last year the phys ed department got new equipment and a basketball court.

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Why would they spend money on debating?’ Will smirked. ‘What are they going to spend it on, palm cards?’

  ‘Will you just come and get in the picture so Tenner’ll stop hassling me? He says it’s good to showcase diversity.’

  Will rolled his eyes. ‘
I’m the only Indigenous kid in our grade. He’s so transparent.’ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Fine. The camera loves me anyway. Because I’m beautiful.’

  ‘You’re an idiot,’ said Megan.

  ‘A beautiful idiot.’

  She pushed him, and he laughed and charged back up and into the herd of kids.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Idiot.’

  Shaun sniggered. ‘Yeah. Idiot.’

  They stood in silence and in his head Shaun reached over and kissed her and felt a warm rush of love.

  But instead, she turned and walked back to Tenner and Will, and Shaun rubbed his bad eye, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

  The air was cooler by the time they got to the lake that afternoon, and clouds hung heavy over the empty landscape, threatening rain. It hadn’t rained properly for years out this way. But occasionally they got a couple of minutes of wet. It brought the grass back to life for a day. Then the town turned yellow again.

  No-one came to this end of the lake, which was why Shaun ran there in the first place. Will couldn’t help but lag behind; Shaun was practically flying.

  He was the only other person Shaun told about the body. When Copper Charlie had dropped Shaun at home, his mum was still on shift at the IGA. He had gone to bed and googled ‘dead bodies’ and ‘drowning’, but found nothing about a missing dead man. He’d seen his mum in the morning. She made such a big deal about his eye that he decided not to worry her with the news. She had enough to worry about already. And at least his eye was feeling a bit better. The splinter had come out even before he got to the sick bay.

  He half-hoped the body would find its way back to the lake, as if it had only been scared off by Charlie. But the place was just as blank as he had left it.

  ‘It was right here,’ he said, pointing to the muddy brown water. Will looked at the stagnant lake and nodded.

  ‘Okay, what did he look like?’

  Shaun described the body in as much detail as he could. Hi-vis. No shoes. Woolly hair.

  ‘Well.’ Will had his hands on his hips. ‘There’s nothing here now. You sure you’re for real?’

  He was starting to lose interest.

  ‘And there was blood gushing from his head,’ Shaun added – he wasn’t sure why. It was a complete lie, but it did what he’d hoped.

  At the grisly image, Will perked up, his face serious again. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Okay.’ Then he knelt down and stared out across the water.

  Shaun had him now. The idea of a body covered in blood was irresistible to a guy like Will, who wanted to be a hero just as much as he did. They could solve the mystery together. The movie flashed through his mind again: the parade, the statue, running away with Megan.

  The story would go national. They’d get calls from the big papers in Brisbane, maybe even the ones in Sydney. He’d get on TV.

  ‘So how long did it take you to run into town and come back here with the cop?’ said Will.

  Shaun thought about the journey. ‘About 45 minutes, so whoever took the body can’t have got far.’

  ‘Did the guy look heavy?’

  ‘The guy?’

  ‘The body.’

  Shaun hadn’t thought about that. But yes, he was a big bloke, and he would’ve been heavier if his body was soaked through.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Heavy and wet. Would’ve been hard to carry. They would’ve had to bring a ute down or something.’

  Will stood up and looked around. The lake was at the bottom of a steep embankment, overgrown with dry scrub. ‘It’d be impossible to get a ute down here,’ Will said. ‘They would’ve had to park up there and lug him up the hill.’

  He had already started walking, and Shaun was close behind. A low grumble of thunder spurred them into a run, as if a car would be there waiting for them, and the dead man inside.

  There was nothing, but, sharing the same thought, they started to search the ground without speaking. They went on like this for a few minutes, the dark clouds growing heavier behind them, then Will finally spoke.

  ‘Look,’ he said, holding up an empty beer can. ‘This could be something.’

  Shaun was skeptical. Empty beer cans could be found pretty much anywhere in town. ‘Maybe,’ he said.

  Will turned the can over in his hand. It was black with white lettering: Guinness.

  ‘Here!’ Shaun pointed at the ground. ‘Tyre tracks. They parked here!’

  Will dropped the can where he’d found it and knelt in the dirt to examine the marks. ‘No-one ever comes down this way,’ he said, and scrambled after the tracks.

  Shaun followed. It was hard going. The soil was loose and dry, the tyres only leaving a shallow impression that had already been partly swept away by the day’s hot wind. The uneven thin grass was more useful. Shaun had a surge of excitement when he found the broken grass where the vehicle had trundled through.

  But the tracks led straight to the nearest road, just 500 metres or so from the water.

  ‘No-one would’ve seen them,’ said Will. ‘Hardly anyone comes up here. It’s a service road. A back entrance to one of the mines.’

  Shaun bit his lip. Will was right. If you took the road one way, you’d arrive at the back of one of the coal mines. If you went the other way, you’d eventually hit the main highway, which curved around and met back up with the lake again, the side people actually went to. There was a barbecue area and a playground there.

  ‘It doesn’t make sense,’ said Shaun. ‘Why drown someone, leave the body, and come pick it up in broad daylight?’

  ‘But we don’t know if he even drowned. He might have died from the hit over the head. Was the blood fresh?’

  ‘Yeah, kinda. I didn’t get a good look.’

  They walked back away from the road towards the embankment again. Will crouched down to look at the tracks, as if they’d tell him their secrets.

  ‘Looks like a ute,’ he said confidently, but Shaun knew when he was bullshitting. They couldn’t be sure about the type of vehicle that had made the tracks. Everyone had a ute around town anyway. That didn’t exactly narrow anything down.

  Will sighed into the dirt. ‘We could make a mould,’ he said. Shaun knew he was trying to act like a detective on TV. ‘Like, we pour cement into the tracks and then lift it out so we get a mould. And we can check that against cars around town to see—’

  He was interrupted by the thunder again. Shaun felt the whisper of rain against his cheek.

  ‘Shit,’ said Will. ‘Quick, take a photo.’

  They both reached for their phones and snapped a burst of photos of the ground. The rain grew more insistent, and within minutes the tracks had vanished, first pooling with water, growing dense and muddy, then dissolving.

  The wind picked up and Shaun’s wet shirt clung to his skin. Will ran for a nearby tree that was closer to the lake, where the embankment flattened out. Shaun followed, shoving his phone into his pocket and hoping that the pictures had captured their only clue.

  The tree was big enough to provide some shelter, even if the rain was dripping through. Will hunched over his phone to check the photos.

  ‘Bugger,’ he muttered. ‘These barely show anything. The contrast is stuffed.’

  But Shaun’s heart had already stopped. Will hadn’t noticed what he had seen immediately.

  Neatly placed at the foot of the tree, as if deliberately, was a pair of workman’s boots. The dead man’s boots.

  Shaun shoved the boots under his shirt to protect them. He was probably destroying important DNA evidence, but it was better than leaving them out in the rain. They ran to the front porch of Shaun’s house and shed their bags. The rain was already easing. The bitumen was beginning to steam as the sun re-emerged, the air now sticky.

  His mum wasn’t home, and the kitchen was messy with the morning’s breakfast things. The box o
f CDs from the garage was still in the lounge room. Shaun cleared a spot at the table and pulled the boots out from under his shirt. Will leant in, his eyes glimmering with fresh excitement.

  ‘Okay,’ Will said. ‘Workman’s boots. Big. Size,’ he peered inside, looking for the number, ‘size is worn off.’

  Shaun took off one of his own shoes – size 9 – and put it beside the dead man’s boots. The boots were larger by at least a size, possibly more.

  ‘Good thinking,’ said Will.

  ‘Size 11 maybe.’ Shaun felt weird standing there in one shoe and took the other one off.

  They looked at the boots for a couple of minutes longer, but there was nothing remarkable about them. Shaun’s spirit flattened. This didn’t prove a thing.

  Will stood up straight and looked into the middle distance, trying to imagine a scene. ‘Why would the murderer leave their boots behind?’

  ‘Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they’re the dead man’s.’

  ‘So, the guy arrives at the lake and takes off his boots? Why?’

  ‘Maybe he wanted to go for a swim?’

  ‘In all his clothes? And what, the murderer’s waiting for him in the water and bashes him over the head?’

  Shaun twisted uncomfortably. This head-wound story was becoming a problem. He sat for a few moments, thinking about it. The boots had looked like they’d been placed under the tree deliberately. So, maybe the dead guy had gone for a swim. Maybe he’d been drunk and had drowned.

  He felt himself shrink. A drowning. Not a murder.

  Boring.

  A drunk mine worker decides to go for a dip and ends up dying.

  Shaun’s little lie – the head wound – made things more interesting. But it still didn’t explain how the dead guy had got up and disappeared.

  For the first time, real doubt began to creep into his mind.

  Had he been dead?

  He’d been facedown in the water, but he could’ve just been holding his breath.

  A big breath – for like two minutes.

  Will shook his head and groaned, jolting Shaun out of his thoughts. ‘Doesn’t make sense,’ he said, crouching down to look at the boots again in his best Sherlock Holmes impression and loving it.