Hmm, did being bitter count as harbouring hatred? Sometimes I feel infected by this place, as if hate itself breeds here.
Sitting through another two-and-a-half-hours of school is torture. I spend the whole time jiggling, fidgeting and staring at the clock. But it gives me time to think. The moment the last bell rings I force myself to walk to the port rack, pretending to struggle with my books while I keep an eye out. Any of my cousins might know the goss, but I keep my eyes peeled for my cousin Bobbie, she’s better than The Courier Mail and if you want to piss her off you’d call her Roberta. When I finally spot her she’s walking alongside Cassie.
There goes that idea.
I swing my port onto a shoulder and start forwards. There’s no point asking now; I might love my cousin but she has shit taste in friends. I underestimate how much Bobbie loves a good gossip; she grabs my arm when I try to brush past her.
‘Ere, Tace, any word from Laney yet?’
There’s real concern from her so I stop, making sure I can see what Cassie is doing.
‘Nuh nuthin, why? Did you hear somethin?’
‘Nah, sorry, cuz; they reckon Troy’s not talkin.’
My spine goes rigid with shock. I can see Cassie’s smug triumph. ‘Ay? What do you mean Troy?’
Bobbie’s eyes light up; she loves being the first in with any gossip, especially when it’s this big.
‘Don’t you know?’ She tries to hide her glee. ‘Troy drove back into town late last night. He’s dodgin the cops and e’s not sayin nuthin bout what appened that night, but Laney isn’t with him.’
‘Thanks, cuz,’ I say, shaking off her hand and turning towards the stairs.
‘Tace, there’s somethin else. They reckon she was out at the Potters’ place.’
My face must’ve gone white because she reaches to grab my elbow.
‘You right?’
I shake my head to clear it and focus on the important information. ‘Yeah, fine. See ya!’ I yell over my shoulder and bolt for it.
‘Where ya goin?’ Bobbie calls to me. I ignore her.
Home is normally a ten-minute walk but I cut it down to five, even in this heat. Rounding the last corner I push past the burning in my chest and crash through the back door, heart pounding. I have to stop and catch my breath before picking up the phone and dialling the hospital. The woman who answers is one of those stuck-up ones so I do my nice-as-pie thing saying we have a family emergency. I pretend not to hear the other woman dig for information on Laney, just wait till she finally moves her arse to go get Mum.
‘Stacey?’
‘Mum, didja hear? Troy’s back in town but he doesn’t have Laney with him!’
There’s a pause and a muffled sound, then Mum comes back on, all clipped words and harsh sounds. I hate that ultra-professional voice she puts on sometimes. It means she’s burying something.
‘Who told ya this?’
‘Bobbie told me at school, said he got in last night but he won’t say where Laney is.’
‘Right, we’ll see about that one.’ Mum must’ve covered the phone because all I can hear for a bit is the hum of different voices, then she’s back. ‘Call Uncle Joe, get him to come pick me up. We’re gonna sort this right now.’
‘And me too?!’ It’s a question but for some reason I yell it. There’s another pause but this one is shorter.
‘All right, get Uncle to swing past on his way. Tell im it’s about Laney.’
Click.
I dial Uncle Joe’s number and listen to the ring. Uncle Joe is Dad’s older brother and he’s done all he could for us since Dad died. We’d gone to the cemetery for the ten-year anniversary and he’d been right there. He’s our second dad. He answers the phone and Slim Dusty flows down the line. As soon as I say Laney’s name the tunes are shut off and I have his full attention.
‘I’m gettin in the car now, you be waitin at the street when I pull up, niece, got it?’
‘Got it, Unk.’
I hang up and walk to the road, school uniform and all. If I don’t want to get left behind then I’d better be where I’m told. I’ll be here all bloody night if I have to. I spot Bobbie heading down the road towards me and know that girl is coming to have a dorrie. Luckily Uncle pulls up before she gets close.
Bobbie starts cooeeing and doing a frantic ‘pick-me-up-too’ wave. I wave back in a friendly ‘see-ya-later-cuz’ way. Uncle stares straight ahead.
I pretend not to notice how hard Uncle’s gripping the steering wheel or the waves of extreme pissed-offness crashing around the car. For once I keep my mouth shut; this really isn’t going to end well, hopefully for Troy. Roaring up to the hospital, we pull in to where Mum’s waiting. Squeezing between the seats I flop into the back as Mum jumps in the front.
‘Where we goin?’ Uncle growls.
‘Edna’s place.’ Mum didn’t growl back but I know the tight-lipped look that goes with that tone. That’s scary enough.
She turns in her seat, eyeballing me.
‘Did Bobbie hear anything else?’
‘They reckon she was out at the Potters’.’ I say it fast, like I’m ripping off a Band-Aid.
Uncle swears a streak and Mum goes pale. There are good and bad property owners around. The Potters aren’t the kind of people we’d go anywhere near. Their long-running hatred of anything darker than tan is well known. Nan always said they were a family that bred hate. They’d ‘discovered’ their bit of land right after the Archer brothers settled on Eidsvold Station, naming it after their home town in Norway. The Potters decided they were going to do one better, calling their property Akershus after some famous castle in Norway. It set off a big rivalry that went on for a while, but where the Archers moved on, the Potters never did. Then again, the Archers ended up with a station renowned for the cattle that came off it, and a whole town established close by and named after their place. Akershus was the poor cousin left to wither somewhere on the back roads between Eidsvold and the next town over, Mundubbera. No one could pronounce the name, let alone spell it, so it just got called the Potters’ place. All their grand ideas shrivelled up and they’d blamed the local blacks for it. No one really knew why exactly, but Nan always said bitter people don’t like logic, it doesn’t suit their victim mentality.
‘That it?’ Mum grates.
‘Pretty much.’
She faces forwards. Nothing else is said as Uncle burrs up to Edna’s. She’s Troy’s mum and I really have my doubts on whether we’ll find him there. If you’re hiding from the cops how silly would you be to hang around the place you live? My face drops in disbelief when we pull up to see Troy’s car parked at the back, plain as day. Mum twists around again to look at me and forgets her anger long enough to chuckle.
‘Some people are beggin to be caught, daughter.’ Then she’s all business again. ‘Now, you stay in this car and do not step a single foot outside, no matter what happens. Is that clear?’
Uncle whips around like he’s just remembered I’m sitting there. ‘And if you do you’ll deal with your mother and then me. Got it?’
My eyes get really big and I nod. Uncle likes to think he’s scarier than Mum; me and Laney play along to make him feel better. Mum knows it too. Her lips twitch before they both throw their doors open and march up to the house. A few dogs bark from inside. Rolling down my window, I lean forwards, not wanting to miss a second. While the adults take the stairs of the big old Queenslander, my eyes keep flicking over to Troy’s car. I can’t shake the image of Laney hiding under it, feeling those hands close over our ankles. Goosebumps flood my body. I look back as Mum starts banging on the screen door.
Edna Dennis comes storming up as if she didn’t hear us the second the car pulled into her driveway.
‘What do you want?’ Our mobs have never liked each other much, but it isn’t the inter-generational war we have with the Millers.
>
‘We want to talk to Troy. We just wanna know where Laney is.’ Uncle is better at pretending to be calm than Mum.
‘My boy doesn’t know anything about that girl and he don’t wanna know. She’s the one who got them into this in the first place!’
‘Bullshit!’ Mum yells in her face. ‘Laney wasn’t in any trouble like this before. Now bring the little bastard out here so he can tell me what he’s done with my daughter.’
In horrified fascination I watch them square off through the flyscreen.
‘That girl’s nuthin but a troublemaker—’
‘Because your son’s so fuckin innocent?’
‘Don’t you run my son down! Get off my fuckin porch!’
With all that going on I should be transfixed, but my eyes keep sliding back to Troy’s car. I could swear there’s something moving under it and isn’t that spooky as hell? My goosebumps grow worse.
Mum must’ve hit the screen door because a bang brings my attention snapping back and next minute Uncle has Mum by the shoulders. The four-letter words are flying now.
‘Listen ere ya dog, you better get off my fuckin property before—’
‘Before what, Edna? Before your sleaze of a man grabs another knife? Come ere and—’
‘Eyah! Knock off you two! Al, we didn’t come ere for this!’ Uncle keeps trying to talk sense, but it has as much effect as Mum telling Laney to go to school.
It’s the day for my jaw to flop around unhinged. It isn’t so much the foul words that shock me as hearing Mum say them. Laney would’ve loved this, if only to tease Mum later about rinsing her mouth out with soap.
And still my eyes wander back to that stupid old, banged-up … I do a double-take. There!
I call, ‘Uncle! Uncle!’ But there’s no getting his attention while that’s going on right in his ears. Flinging open the door I step from the car, keeping one hand on it like that will stop them from going off at me later. ‘Hey Uncle, look ere!’
Uncle Joe swings an irritated look at me, but he stops when he sees me beside the car.
‘You get back in that—’
My frantically wiggling eyebrows cut off his growl. I have his attention now, so I tilt my head in the direction of Troy’s car. Hesitating for a second he lets go of Mum; she barely notices, going back to banging her palms against the screen while Edna threatens to call the cops. Watching Uncle storm towards me like I am in some serious trouble, I feel a smile creep over my face.
‘Stacey Claire Thomson, I told you to stay in that car!’
See, not as scary as when Mum says it, I smirk. Coughing into one hand and doubling over a bit to do it, I slide my other hand down, pointing under Uncle’s car, before again tilting my head towards Troy’s old bush-basher.
Uncle picks a path that takes him closer to the house. At the last second he veers towards Troy’s car. Swerving to the side of it he drops to his knee and grabs a handful of whatever he finds under there. Next minute he’s pulling a struggling Troy out, not caring if he gets any scrapes or bruises along the way.
‘Get off me!’ Troy yips.
Edna must’ve heard him because she breaks off swearing at Mum and starts screaming to her husband to call the cops. Suddenly switching from banging on the screen to leaning against it with all of her weight, Mum smiles evilly as she watches Uncle handle Troy. She’s always fast on the uptake is Mum.
Uncle is a big man, even by today’s standards, and years of tordoning and fencing work has left him with a lot of muscle. He gets an arm across Troy’s throat pretty easily and has him pinned to the ground in no time. Whatever he’s saying to the boy has Troy’s struggles slowing then stopping, leaving him looking up at Uncle Joe. Me and Laney might not be scared of our uncle, but any man with half a brain should be, especially if they’ve harmed his brother’s girls. And Troy has done plenty of harm.
I want to run over there so bad it hurts, but the whole thing is over pretty fast. One minute Troy’s on the ground and the next Uncle is picking him up and setting him on his feet. Troy isn’t a small bloke, just young, and Uncle is good at intimidating without having to harm the young fullas in town. Uncle turns back towards me when two things happen at once.
Edna’s man Ray comes barrelling around the side of the house with an axe raised over his head, and the town cop car comes screeching in behind me. I shoot a look at the front door to see Mum step away from the screen like nothing is wrong, while Edna has gone quiet. Troy goes white as a sheet, a neat trick for a blackfulla. Ray does a weird little skid, brings the axe down and throws it under the house. All of the black people in the place throw their hands up. No silly ones here.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. This is going to take forever, chewing up time we should be using to look for Laney.
‘You really expect me to believe that you were “bringing” the axe to Joe because you borrowed it from him?’
Sitting in the cop shop with my head down, I keep pretending to read the ratty magazine I’d found in the waiting area. The whole place smells like stale things and chemicals; probably a mix of the sergeant’s illegal inside-smoking and the air freshener he’s been trying to hide it with. The cop shop is a brick square, with a tiny waiting area that started out as temporary and at some point became permanent. There are two of those old brown plastic chairs with metal legs and a small side table with magazines from five years ago stacked on it. I’d claimed one when Mum refused to sit down, somehow managing to pace in the miniscule area. Edna sat in the other chair across the table from me.
I shouldn’t be able to hear anything the cop is saying, but they only have room for Troy and Uncle Joe in the separate office and single interview room. They’d already questioned me, Mum and Edna ‘on the scene’, then piled the men into the back of the car. We’d followed them down to the cop shop. After putting Uncle and Troy in the offices, they’d brought Ray to the open area behind the front desk and tackled him first. This had been going on for roughly thirty minutes. At some point the sergeant left to go get some dinner or something, leaving the constable there to ‘finish up’. I spent the whole time trying not to laugh, and refusing to look at Mum or Edna; I could feel them not looking at me either.
‘Yeah, Officer, he wanted to see Troy about Laney and I figured I’d give it to him at the same time. Save me a trip, see.’ Ray is being so respectful, no sarcasm even. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
‘Alright, Ray, say I believe that, why did you throw it under the house?’
‘If I’d kept hold of it you might’ve thought I was threatenin you or somethin bad like that. I didn’t want you to shoot me! So I chucked it fast.’
The constable is suspicious as hell but it’s not like he has anything on them. Right now their biggest worry is Troy, so they finish up with Ray and it’s only another hour before they let Uncle Joe go. Edna and Ray give us all dirty looks as we leave; they’re waiting to see if Troy will get released or thrown in lock-up. Lock-up wouldn’t be a friendly place for him with Clinton and Tyrone already in there. From what the cop said those two are so pissed off they’d dobbed Troy and Laney in for being there that night, too.
Sliding into the car I stay quiet and wait. It doesn’t take long for Mum to start. They just have to get enough space between them and the cops first, then she turns to face Uncle.
‘Well?’
‘Troy says he doesn’t know what happened to her. He said they all split up when they got chased. They were supposed to meet up at the car but she never showed.’
‘He’s lyin!’
My furious shout stops them cold and they both look at me. I could see their worry.
‘I mean, he has ta be, right?’ How can I tell them I’m so sure because of a stupid nightmare?
Mum shakes herself and nods at Uncle. ‘Turn this car around. We’re makin a missin persons report.’
Her voice is ho
llow. It’s the voice that I’d only heard two times before: when she told us Dad was never coming home, and the last day she took us up to see Nan at the hospital.
I lean forwards and wrap my arms around Mum’s shoulders as tight as our seatbelts will allow.
‘It’s okay, Mum, we’ll find her. We’ll make sure she’s okay.’
Mum’s strong, calloused hands pat my forearm.
‘From your lips, baby girl.’
The constable isn’t any happier to see us the second time, especially when Mum marches up and declares her sixteen-year-old daughter missing. Edna and Ray shoot her a vicious look while the cop sighs. He looks Mum up and down.
‘We’ve got a warrant out for her arrest, Alana,’ he says in a bored voice.
‘Ms Thomson to you, Cun-stable.’ She doesn’t wait for him to hear the emphasis on that one, barrelling right across his frown. ‘And I want it on record: Laney said she was going to see Troy after school, and Stacey saw her get in his car after school. Troy says he hasn’t seen her since last night. So take down the damn report.’
‘Well, that’s not the story Troy’s telling everyone else.’
Mum’s eyebrows climb upwards. ‘And when did gossip become an official police source? That boy told Joe that Laney never showed up where she was supposed to. I want you out lookin for her.’
‘There’s a lot of things in this world that we want Alana, most of which won’t happen for one reason or another.’
Mum looked ready to keep arguing but Uncle grabs her elbow, nods to the cop and drags his sister-in-law with him, whispering in her ear the whole way. Staying put I eye the cop like he’s a sample under a microscope. He doesn’t seem to like it much.
‘What do you want?’ he sneers. ‘Going to report someone else missing?’
‘Yeah actually,’ I drawl. ‘Your humanity seems to be missin. You might want to do somethin about that.’
Turning on my heel I follow after my family, leaving him with a bright red face. Fully expecting him to race after me and make up some charge, I’m shocked when I make it all the way to the car. Finding Uncle holding a struggling Mum against the car knocks that straight from of my mind.
Ghost Bird Page 4
