by J. C. Burke
‘No. No. Don’t,’ Evie screams.
The taxi driver jumps out of his cab shouting, ‘What the bloody hell’s going on? Get out of my cab.’
Theo gets out, too. He’s saying something to the driver, trying to calm him down. ‘We have to get to the police headquarters, Angas Street. Please, mate.’
Evie is just aware of someone touching her arm, steering her through double glass doors. She watches her shoes walk down a thick carpeted corridor, one foot in front of the other, the sponginess bouncing off her soles. It’s like walking on the moon.
She is guided into a chair. Vic and Rory are standing there. Her father and Theo, too.
‘Take it slowly,’ Vic is saying to her. ‘Take some deep breaths. You’re safe here.’
‘The fence,’ she hears her voice echo. ‘The fence.’
Slowly she lifts her hands out of the pockets and sits them on the table palms facing up.
‘Shit!’ her dad yells.
Shaking her head she hides them back in her coat.
The men huddle around whispering. A phone rings, muffled voices, the smell of coffee, doors opening and closing but Evie sits aloof, detached from the physical world.
Instead she sits there aware of a strange calmness entering her body. Evie feels it break through her skin and settle in the deepest layer. It quietens her mind, taking the edge off her fear. She knows why. Fear will only be in the way now. She must be close.
‘Do you know a fence with wire circles running across the top?’ she whispers. ‘I cut my hands on it.’
‘Where were you?’ Rory asks.
‘Shh,’ Vic gestures. ‘Go on.’
‘It’s the fence from my dream.’ She tells them about the newspaper stand. ‘All these scratches appeared when I was drawing. Look how many there are.’ Evie can’t stop turning her hands over and over. ‘We have to find the fence.’
Vic nods and Rory leaves the room.
‘Does Rory know where it is?’
‘He’s just checking something, Evie,’ replies Vic. ‘He’ll be back in a minute. Hopefully with the first aid kit, too.’
Evie looks at her dad. He is covering his mouth. She can see his lips trembling even though he presses his hand hard against them.
She uncurls her fingers and puts her hand in his. ‘They don’t hurt,’ she says to him.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he chokes. ‘Tell me if you’ve had enough. I’ll take you home tonight if you want. You don’t have to –’
‘It won’t stop this,’ Evie says. ‘I know that now.’
‘I wish … I just don’t understand.’
‘My hands are a sign, Dad. It’s not meant to frighten us. Okay? She’s leading me to where I’m meant to go.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ he moans.
Rory comes back in with a folder and some bandages. He shows something to Vic, who nods in agreement.
‘Evie, have a look at this.’ Rory passes her a photo. ‘It’s taken near the Keswick terminal.’
Evie studies a photo of a corrugated iron warehouse. At the back of the picture is a fence with barbed wire circles running across the top.
‘Here’s a better one,’ Rory says.
The photo is passed around the room. Theo and Nick shrug; it means nothing to them.
‘What do you think, Evie?’ asks Vic.
‘It could be it. It certainly looks like it.’ Evie passes the pictures back. ‘I think we should go there.’
‘I’ll organise a car,’ says Vic.
The detectives leave the room.
‘You’re quiet, Theo.’
He looks up at her, trying to smile.
‘I’m okay,’ Evie says.
Silence.
‘I’m getting closer.’
They drive towards West Terrace back out to the Mile End area.
‘Okay, Evie, let’s retrace Athena’s steps,’ Vic says from the front seat. ‘We’re pretty sure she went to the festival, which is situated here.’ He gestures out the window.
Rory turns off the main road into an adjoining street.
‘Presuming they went by either car or foot,’ continues Vic, ‘this is most likely the way they would’ve come.’
They turn into an industrial eyesore. Warehouse after warehouse, kilometres of wire fencing and the lack of trees make it hard to differentiate one street from the next.
‘Around this corner is where the picture was taken,’ says Rory, stopping the car.
‘No,’ Evie says with complete confidence. ‘This isn’t right.’
‘What?’ the detectives chime.
‘This isn’t the place,’ she repeats.
‘Why don’t you get out of the car and look?’ says Rory.
‘We’re here now,’ encourages Vic.
‘I’d be wasting your time,’ Evie tells them. ‘Look, there are fences everywhere. None of them are the right one though, not here. I don’t mean to sound rude, Vic, but surely there are other fences like this in the area?’
The detectives look at each other. Vic nods and Rory turns the car around just a bit too fast. Gravel sprays up, hitting the window. Evie hears his perfect teeth grind.
‘Just tell us when to stop,’ he mutters.
Rory drives over the railway track to the western side of the road. Evie hears the tyres – click, bump, click, bump. She holds her hands tightly. They’re so close now.
‘Stop!’
Evie spots the trees before the fence. To her they’re simply four triangles, standing tall. Unmistakable. She’s opening the door before the car has even stopped and running towards the fence.
‘What are these?’ she calls, treading on silver lines wedged into the road.
‘Old railway lines.’ Rory jogs behind her. ‘There used to be a terminal here for the mills.’
‘So simple,’ she laughs.
The wire fence borders a carpark lined with trucks and vans.
Evie looks around, sniffing the air.
‘What?’ says Rory.
‘There’s that smell.’
Rory leans against the fence and sniffs. ‘What smell?’
‘That smell.’
‘I can’t smell anything except fumes from one of the factories.’
‘No, it’s like grass that’s been mowed, something like that.’ She inhales deeply. ‘It reminds me of a farm. Yeah, it’s a farmy smell.’
‘You couldn’t be further from a farm,’ replies Rory.
‘But that’s where she is.’
‘A farm?’
‘I don’t know. I just know the smell and I know it’s connected to her.’ Evie gestures around them. ‘It’s all connected to her,’ she adds.
Rory sighs and walks back to the car.
‘It’s not my fault,’ she shrugs, following him.
The others stand around. Vic stubs out his cigarette. ‘Anything?’
‘She thinks Athena’s at a farm.’
‘What?’
‘I didn’t say she was at a farm, Rory,’ Evie corrects. ‘I said the farm smell is connected to her.’
Rory gets back into the driver’s seat and slams the door.
‘What are you two going on about?’ Vic mutters.
‘Vic, I need to – to just be here for a while by myself.’
Vic stares at her.
‘Moo,’ she says to him.
‘Huh?’
‘Look, Vic, take Dad and Theo and go for a drive. Just go away for a while. I need some space. Every time I turn around one of you’s there.’
Rory starts the engine as the men get in the car.
Nick winds down the window. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? We won’t go far.’
‘Dad, I’m fine.’
At last the car disappears down the road. Linking her fingers around the curve of her grandmother’s bangles Evie stands by the four trees.
‘Ok,’ she says, calmly brushing her hand along the pine needles. ‘Follow the signs.’
No one is around. It’s so quiet, so desolate.
Carefully Evie walks further up the road, hearing her shoes crunch along the gravel. Above, a lone crow calls ‘caw, caw’ and inside her head a gentle humming starts.
At the end of the road stands a narrow bridge. As Evie gets closer she sees it’s not an actual bridge but rather a network of overhead pipes that run along and connect with something on the other side. Her eyes follow their convoluted journey and there she discovers the missing part of the puzzle. Three cylindrical towers, taller than anything else around. She lifts her hand to her throat. ‘What a place to be,’ she murmurs.
Crouching down on the footpath, Evie buries her head in her lap. She can hear her heart pounding and her breath loud in her throat. She can hear Victoria’s words, soothing, guiding, but what she feels is like nothing before. It suffocates her soul, leaving an emptiness void of any care or love, and a fear so deep, so black, it crushes any chance of hope. Every cell in her body feels it – Athena is here, waiting, all alone. Evie wraps her arms around her chest and gently rocks herself.
‘I’m sorry it took me so long,’ she cries.
The three towers stand alone, stark against the wasteland. The wind begins to moan and the four pines bend and shiver. In the air a whisper floats, ‘So, so, so.’ Gradually the sound becomes louder, crisper. ‘So cold,’ it cries. ‘So cold. So cold. So alone.’
Evie is back by the fence when the car returns. Her dad goes to her, anxiety pasted all over his face.
‘I know where she is.’ Evie points to the towers.
‘Up there?’ says Nick.
Evie nods. ‘She’s inside.’
‘Are you –?’
‘Yes. You tell them.’
‘Vic?’ Nick clears his throat. ‘Evie says she’s up there.’
‘What? The wheat silos?’
‘That’s right.’
They stand there, their arms folded. Tension all around. Evie goes and sits in the car. Outside she hears them arguing.
‘How could she have got up there, Nick?’
‘I don’t know! But that’s where Evie says she is.’
‘That’s bloody ridiculous!’
‘Well, that’s what you got her out here for, Vic.’
‘Fifteen minutes ago she said she thought the girl was on a farm.’
‘She was trying to identify a smell, Rory. Look – wheat, farm. Theo and I understand how this works. You don’t.’
‘So what?’ Vic yells. ‘You think we should drain everything out of the silos because of that?’
‘You prick,’ Nick spits.
‘Come on, guys.’ Theo stands between them. ‘Stay calm. Come on, Nicky.’
‘You got us over here,’ Nick growls. ‘You made my daughter think you had faith in her. And now you’re just going to come to your own fucking conclusion?’
‘I understand this is difficult for you,’ begins Vic.
‘Difficult? Difficult?’ Nick fights to get closer but Theo holds him back. ‘You don’t know what difficult is, mate. She has to live with this for the rest of her life. Do you understand that? Evie has trusted you, Vic. She has – she has let you in on something that makes her so, so vulnerable. My wife, her mother, is sick with fear of what this’ll do to her. Do you have any idea how this must feel for her, for us, for our family? I’m not letting this happen, do you hear?’
Vic stares at the ground. ‘I’m sorry, Nick. I can’t get a warrant to search the silos unless we have some evidence.’
‘Well, do your job and find some.’
Nick walks back to the car and slams the door.
They drive back to the hotel in silence. Evie has never seen her father so angry. His face is contorted and his eyes are dark. She wants to say something to him. She wants to make him better but they’re so past that now. She will leave him to Theo. Theo will know how to handle him.
Before Evie gets out she leans over to the front passenger seat. ‘Vic?’
‘Yes, Evie?’ he sighs.
‘There is evidence there. You just have to find it. Look around the four pine trees. It’s hidden there somewhere.’
In the bathroom Evie takes Athena’s red cardigan out of her bag. She rubs it against her face, the wool soft and smooth on her skin. In the mirror she looks pale: the hollowness of her sockets reflect dark shadows underneath. Her left eye is red and puffy. Her bottom lip is swollen where she keeps biting it and tiny cracks at the side of her mouth are opening into sores. She turns her hands over, watching the scratches, like tiny comets shooting in all directions. The knot at the back of her head is so matted now she can only hide it in a bun. For the first time in days she touches it. It’s still wet and sticky.
‘How have I come to this?’
But Evie knows the price is small.
Tomorrow they are returning to Sydney. As soon as they got back to the hotel Nick booked tickets on an early flight. In sixteen hours Evie will be home. Back to Alex and to Poppy, whom she hasn’t seen in two weeks. Back to the Glebe markets where Petrina will hug her and Ben’s crooked smile will only make her laugh. Back to Seb, who keeps her secret. Home, where everything will be different. Everything, because Evie understands she is different now.
The men watch the seven o’clock news. Evie lies curled up on her bed, the red cardigan resting on her shoulders. She won’t write anything to Athena, not tonight. It hurts so much when she thinks of Athena’s family and their pain at losing their firstborn. Their daughter.
Evie closes her eyes and hums a lullaby her mother used to sing when she’d had a bad dream. ‘Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea.’
Evie is lying in her parents’ bed. Her mother’s arms are wrapped around her, her fingers gently stroking her hair. ‘Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea.’ Her mother’s breath smells sweet, like milk and honey. ‘Mamma’s here,’ she whispers. ‘You’re safe now. There are no monsters behind the door. Just fairies.’ Her eyes feel heavier as her mother’s song guides her into sleep.
Evie sits up in the hotel bed. ‘Dad?’ she calls. ‘I think I’d like to call Mum.’
In Theo’s room she dials the number. Robin is home now, waiting for them.
‘Nick, is that you?’
‘It’s me, Evie.’
‘Evie!’
Silence.
‘Evie, are you still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t, I don’t –’
‘Mum, it’s okay.’
‘No. No, it’s not,’ she squeaks.
Evie can picture her mother curled up on the lounge, a glass of red wine in her hand.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ she splutters. ‘I want you to know that. There are things we need to talk about. Things that happened a long time ago. But I did what I thought was best.’
‘The best for who, Mum?’
Silence.
‘I’ve tried to be a good mum. I know I don’t do a very good job sometimes.’
‘Were you scared? Is that what it was?’
‘I was frightened for you. I wanted everything to be perfect,’ she sighs. ‘I wanted you to have what I didn’t have – love, stability.’
‘What about honesty?’
Silence except for her mother’s breath.
‘I just wanted to protect you,’ she finally says.
‘This is the way I am, Mum.’
‘I know. I know, Evie, and I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. I keep thinking about that poor family. We’ll just take it slowly, you and me.’
‘I want to go back to school, Mum. I don’t really know what I’m going to do but I want to go back. I know that. I just want things to be normal. Normal between all of us.’ Evie wipes the tears on her sleeve. ‘Well, as normal as they can be.’
‘You sound different, Evie.’
‘I am.’
He drags her off the fence and holds her hand tightly, the cuts stinging under his sweat. He yells and slaps her face over and over. He holds her cheeks and pulls her lips apart as he s
creams in her face, his spit flying into her eyes and mouth. He pushes her. The back of her head connects with something hard. She holds the pain; it feels wet and sticky. There’s blood on her fingers. She goes to speak but he pushes her again and again until everything goes black. Black. He carries her to the tower but she’s a dead weight. Instead he drags her by the legs, her head and body bumping up each metal stair. He forces the door open, props her in the entrance and pushes her in. She falls down, down into the darkness, until the thud. Millions of tiny wheat grains fly up in the air then slowly, slowly settle on her face and mouth.
Evie waits for the 6 a.m wake up call. Outside the darkness is turning into a misty grey. She hears the brakes of a truck as it starts and stops at each garbage bin.
Tonight Alex will come over and they’ll lie on her bed and she’ll tell her things, not everything. They’ll find something to laugh about. They always do.
At last the phone rings. The recorded message speaks: ‘At the third stroke, it will be five fifty-nine and seven seconds.’
‘Are you awake?’ her dad asks.
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
They have a cup of tea, shower, pack and are in a taxi on the way to the airport by 7 a.m.
Theo brings the bags back from the check-in desk. ‘The flight’s delayed an hour due to morning fog. Let’s get a coffee.’
They sit around, not saying much. The airport café is crowded with glum-faced morning travellers. Evie picks at a toasted sandwich and Theo spills sugar on the table. Nick stares out the window at the fog.
‘A watched pot never boils,’ Theo tells him.
‘I won’t be sad if I never see Adelaide airport again.’
Theo passes Nick the paper. ‘You should read this letter to the editor.’
‘Later,’ he says. ‘Evie, have you done your eyedrops this morning?’
Evie starts rummaging through her bag. The bandages on her hands make her clumsy.
‘Give it to me. I’ll find them.’ Nick’s mobile rings. ‘Hang on a sec.’
Theo peers up from the paper. Evie listens to her dad speak. She knows who’s on the other end.
