by Noel Beddoe
‘Luz,’ Yasemin says, ‘there is something I must explain to you. I told you about Jimmy, a thing he said, all that time ago before all the things that happened.’ Luz’s smile shifts but is still there. ‘That thing I told you about Jimmy … saying certain things, you might have believed that I had actually heard him say them.’
‘You hear him say it. You say you hear him say it.’
‘No, Luz. I didn’ ever say that. I said that he’d said it, not that I’d heard him with my own ears.’
‘You didn’ hear him say that?’ There’s no smile now.
‘No. Someone told me he’d said it. I believed he’d said it.’
‘Maybe Jimmy didn’ say it? That what you tellin’ me now? Maybe Jimmy didn’ say nothin’ bad about me?’
‘I don’t know, Luz. When I told you, I truly believed that he had. I’ve had to think it over. Back then, you know, after I told you and you said what you said to him and got suspended, then that terrible thing was done to you. The police moved you away, to hide you, then not long after you got back Abdul was killed. There was all that terrible rush of events and I was just … numb about it all. And now just lately I’ve had time to think about it all again, what happened at school that day.’
‘Someone tol’ you Jimmy said bad things? Who tol’ you that?’
Yasemin looks down at the kids performing on the stage. Tears burn her eyes. ‘Abdul,’ she says, as firmly as she can.
Luz has covered her eyes with her hands. The hang of her shoulders is that of someone deeply tired.
‘I’m sorry,’ Yasemin says. ‘I intervened. I had no right.’
She has dismissed the temptation of crying herself, understanding the irrelevance and inadequacy of such behaviour. In case this is her last conversation with her friend she is also determined to state some other matters that have come to her in her sleepless nights. ‘But, what if he did say those things and I didn’t tell you? And if you’d come to some terrible point in your life with me having knowledge that might have saved you, and I’d withheld it? What sort of friend would I have been then?’ She shakes her head and glares at the escalator’s passing parade.
Luz lowers her hands and smiles at her friend. After a while Luz says, ‘Lets go for a walk like we used to.’ Yasemin tries to smile, shrugs, nods. She calls for their bill. Heading back by the food hall Yasemin stands for a moment in shock, recognising a figure she has seen at a table. When they emerge onto a footpath on King Street she says, ‘Did you see who that was?’
‘Sure.’
They head south, past a vast stairway that leads up to the cinema complex. They cross a busy side street. It’s a long walk and they go at a serious clip. They leave the shopping precinct, pausing at the start of a track that will take them through a fringe of coastal scrub to the dunes above Port Kembla beach. Yasemin looks back the way they’ve come and says, ‘He’s followed us.’
‘Course.’
They remove their sandals and pick their way up to the crest of the slope. They walk beneath boughs and foliage of tall gums. There’s coastal scrub tight in beside the track they follow. It’s winter, so the sand of the path is cold beneath the soles of their feet and between their toes. They break out of forest at the crown of the hill.
They’re above a beach now. The bay runs north and south but is narrow with open sea beyond. It’s an overcast morning so the water is lead green, flat and glassy under the wind that bites across it from the west. To their left water runs in front of a squat cement surf club, with its inadequate little carpark. Further along there’s a painted wall that borders an Olympic pool and beyond that big houses crowd onto each other on a hill. To their right, the thin line of beach sand runs south to where far-off pine trees show the place that salt water enters the lake, at Windang. They turn right and stroll south together along the rim of the ridge.
Luz says, ‘You brung me here my first time.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yeah. You showed this place to me jus’ after we come to this town, my family an’ me. Oh, it was good to see this here! Helped me. We never seen anythin’ like this town. All them houses sort of crouched on Cringila Hill. Looked like we all come at the same time inna night, people who live there, threw down places to live inna dark, woke up, there it all was. Saw them steelworks, shed after shed after shed, all so giant. So many, an’ big. Like people was nothin’, was how big it looked. Never saw nothin’ like that before. Frightenin’, you know? Like it could crush ya any time it wanted. Looked so strong, the steelworks. An’ I felt so tiny. An’ frightened.
‘Then you brought me here, one afternoon. An’ seein’ it made me think of how things was back on our island. Sometimes I’d come down here by myself, an’ all those other things back away over behin’ them trees, carn see nothin’ of ’em. Could preten’, you know, for a little while, they wasn’ there. In summer time I’d go down an’ walk in that sea water, when the warm currents had gotten down, made me think of walkin’ in the sea back on our island. An’ I felt bigger, you know? Little bit bigger.’
They reach the place they’ve come to in years gone by, sit on clumps of the sparse grass, watch small, pale green waves build and curl, hear their slap as they break, the roll of foam. Back where they turned in from the bushes Samuel emerges.
Yasemin says, ‘Does he imagine that we don’t know he’s there?’
‘He don’ care.’
‘It’s like … have you ever gone for a walk and then this nice, friendly dog follows you and you’re worried where you’re leading him and not sure that he’ll get home?’
‘You sayin’ my brother’s a dog?’
‘No! No!’
Luz laughs. ‘Tha’s jus’ how Samuel is now. He worries for his little sister. He’s love me a long time now, since first I was born. Maybe since before I was born.’ Luz watches the heave of the sea, thoughtfully. ‘I’m gonna tell ya about Jimmy an’ me.’ She watches the seabirds hang, motionless against the weight of the wind, their tails towards the sea. Luz says, ‘Started with my dancin’, what I came to feel about Jimmy.’
‘Your dancing?’
‘Yeah. I like dancin’, you know, movin’ the way music makes you feel. I like workin’ with my frens, to get up routines to do.’
‘I know that. You’re all very good dancers. I used to love seeing you dance together.’
‘When school had them concerts an’ we danced, some boys would be stupid, make stupid noises.’
‘I know. I heard. Irritating.’
‘Then you pass them in the corridor after an’ they say, “You some hot babe.” Worse things sometimes. What they’d like to do, that sorta thing, make sure you hear. Must make ’em feel good ’bout themselves, sayin’ that sort of stuff so you can hear.’
‘Sure. Most of the boys are sensible and nice. Some still have a lot of growing up to do.’
‘Anyway, Jimmy was never like that. Jimmy say, “You dance real nice, Luz,” just passin’ me in the corridor, wanna say somethin’ nice to me. Smilin’ that nice way he got. Make me feel good when he say them things. Make me feel I’m part of somethin’ nice.’
She watches clouds scud across the sky. ‘Then I notice the way he walk, the way he … hold hisself.’
‘His bearing.’
‘What?’
‘You liked the way he carried himself. He seemed composed, and had a presence.’
Luz shakes her head in frustration hearing her friend’s command of English.
‘Go on,’ Yasemin says.
‘When we in class, you know, some of the other boys just clowns! Never Jimmy. He don’ think nothin’ of them lessons, he tol’ me that, he don’ think they got nothin’ to do with the way he’s livin’ his life, but he sits polite, tries to listen. He says to me that’s just respeck, respeck for the teachers. Them people put them lessons together, tryin’ to help us even if we don�
�� find nothin’ in what they sayin’ got any meanin’ for us. Just what one person should do for another. Once he was sittin’ near me an whisper somethin’ made me laugh an’ the teacher say, “Luz, listen what you bein’ tol’.” Jimmy says, no, sir, was his fault, he ’pologise. Everythin’ over quick, everyone feelin’ good. He can do that, Jimmy. Made me feel good, how he could do things like that.’
‘Yes, he’s like that. Everyone respects Jimmy. He’s a wild boy and I wish he wasn’t, for his sake, but people do respect him.’
‘So time come sometimes we eat our sandwich in the quad together at lunch, jus’ talk, laugh together. Then one of us said, “See you in The Mall?” So I went down when we said. An’ I was nervous, you know, maybe he’s not gonna come, make me feel stupid for goin’ down. But then he came, smilin’ in his way, lookin’ pleased to see me. Then we was jus’ walkin’ aroun’, lookin’ in tha shops, talkin ’bout what we see, laughin’. If I made a joke he’d know it was a joke an’ laugh. Tha’s nice, you know, when you both know a thing’s a joke. Sometimes we went to the movies.’ Luz turns her head to look at Samuel, sitting away up the beach by himself. She says, ‘One day we come down here, an’ we did it in those bushes up there.’
‘Luz …’
‘I’m tellin’ you this. Never tol’ no one else.’ She pulls her knees up, hugs them. ‘We knew we was gonna, walkin’ here. We felt like we hadta. The time had come, you know.’ She frowns, shakes her head. ‘When Jimmy kiss me I felt like my spirit went outta me an’ inta him, through our mouths. An’ then being with him … I felt like he was carin’ for me, carin’ how things was for me. Then, after, all I wanted was to be with Jimmy, couldn’ think ’bout nothin’ else. I’d think, we could make a baby, how it was bein’ for us, make a new human being, an’ there ain’t nothin’ bigger than that anyone could do. But later at night I’m not sleepin’, thinkin’ I’m such a stupid person, English no good, how he could care ’bout me? Maybe just pretendin’ so he could get what he wanted. What if he laughin’ about me, sayin’ bad things. Then you tol’ me he was. An’ then I said what I said to him and thought, well, that’s it now, that’s all over, ’bout me an’ Jimmy. I felt bad. Worst I ever felt, until that thing happen’ with Abdul.’
‘Oh, Luz I’m so ashamed. I’m so regretful.’
‘Nah, you my fren. You didn’ mean nothin’ bad. Is jus’ what happen’. Sometimes in a way no one meant them to.’
‘It’s true.’
Yasemin looks along the beach to where Samuel is watching them. Luz stands, dusts sand from her bottom. ‘Come on,’ she says. ‘You gotta get to work.’ Luz puts an arm around the shoulder of her friend. ‘Soon you be gettin’ ready for them big exams, get yourself to university, gonna be a lawyer.’
‘I won’t get the scores to get straight into law, Luz.’
‘No, maybe not, but you got that worked out because you clever. You won’t be roun’ much then. Maybe we don’ get down here together too much no more.’
‘We can make time, Luz.’
‘Things change. People get busy.’ She looks across the wind-flattened bay. ‘Been good for me, comin’ here with you.’
They stand together, watching the scope of the sea.
Luz says, ‘Time for you to be gettin’ on. Things for you to do.’
The two women hold hands in the manner of friends who are very young, and walk north together.
Chapter Fifteen
The tide is dead low, so they walk along the beach towards the surf clubhouse across damp, tight-packed sand.
‘Okay,’ Piggy says, ‘I’m here. What’s up?’
‘My grandfather knows we saw Abdul get whacked.’
Piggy stares at the rolling surface of the sea. ‘Oh,’ he says.
‘Yeah. An’ if he knows other people must know.’
‘I guess.’
‘Grandfather says we maybe broke some law.’
‘What law?’
‘Somethin’ about concealin’ a crime or somethin’.’
Piggy shakes his head, frustrated, spits down onto the sand.
‘Concealin’ a crime? How we concealed any fucken crime? I mean, there’s Abdul down in a pool of blood like you said. We didn’t drag him off into the bushes.’
‘Well, maybe there’s some law we gotta report what we know, make ourselves available. Maybe there’s a law we gotta be good citizens.’
‘You think so? No one told me about no law.’
‘Maybe that’s not gonna help us too much. My grandfather seems to think there’s one. He’s a man knows a lot.’
‘Well, yeah, I gotta give you that. So. What you gonna do?’
‘Grandfather says we should tell ’em we was shocked. That we’re sensitive young children, don’t know bad things can happen in the world, stuff like that, not ready to face the nasty parts of life. We’re victims, what we come through, an’ saw. Just comin’ out of it.’
Piggy stoops and picks up a stone that’s been washed up by the tide. He turns it over in his fingers, looks at the patterns of colour left by the washing over it of the sea.
He says, ‘That sounds pretty good, what he’s told you. Shit, maybe it’s true.’
He reaches back his arm, hurls the stone into the water in a curving arc. Jimmy watches the far-off splash it makes and finds himself surprised at the strength of Piggy’s arm.
Piggy says, ‘There’s another way.’
‘Yeah? What’s that?’
‘Be crazy.’
‘Crazy?’
‘We can be crazy. Plenty of people think I’m crazy. Shit, it’s been a help to me.’
‘That right?’
‘Yeah. How’re you gonna be with this? You okay?’
‘I think so. I’ll go to the police with Grandfather.’
‘When?’
‘Dunno. Tomorrow morning maybe. My grandfather wants to go fishin’ of all fucken things. I’m goin’ with him tonight. Get that outta the way, then I’ll go see the police, act like I’m dazed, tell all I know. Which, when you get down to it, is maybe not too fucken much.’
‘So tomorrow’s it.’
‘Looks like it. You can come, if you want.’
‘Nah. If I go in with ya, they’re gonna think we cooked it up. I’ll go my own way, let ’em get the same story two different places.’
They stand awhile, watching the sea, smelling the air. Piggy says, ‘This shit just goes on and on, don’t it?’
‘Yeah. Been confusin’.’
‘What’s been the worst part for you?’
‘Since it all started? What happened about me an’ Luz. That’s the thing started this all out bein’ a disaster for me.’
‘Yeah? That’s worst?’
‘Can’t get over it. Jus’ as bad now as the day it happened. Worse, maybe. When we started, me an’ Luz, it got to be so strong. Where we got to, what I felt was … I dunno … excited. It was beautiful, what I felt. Then, crash, all over. Fucken near killed me.’
‘Killed you!’
‘Well, nah, I wasn’ gonna die, but it felt … deep, the hurtin’ from what happened. What she said! Was like someone chopped off part of me with an axe. I dunno what it was I even done. Then that thing happened to her.’
Piggy turns his head and watches his friend, frowning.
‘It rocked me. Done some insane things. I’d see some woman, think, that’s Luz, run up, grab her by the arm, she turns aroun’ …’ He shakes his head. ‘Not her. Nothin’ like her, you know.’
Piggy gives a snort of laughter.
‘Well, I’m pleased you think it’s funny.’
‘Nah, you know, jus’ thinkin’ … maybe you coulda got arrested.’ He gives a snarl of unconstrained laughter. ‘You know, “Well, officer, I was jus’ walkin’ through the shoppin’ centre, keepin’ my own thoughts, an’ this fucken kid
comes rushin’ up an’ gropes me! Says he thought I was his girlfren. Officer, I’m seventy years old!”’
Jimmy tries to look angry but can’t keep himself from smirking. They begin to walk back towards the surf club.
‘Not over it, about Luz. Not even close to gettin’ over it,’ Jimmy says.
‘One thing at a time, right? First get this thing cleared with the cops, if that’s what we gotta do.’
‘First thing is go fishin’ with Grandfather, get that outta the way. Then clean up with the police.’
‘Sure. Where you goin’ fishin’?’
‘Out on the harbour.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘Nah. Just him an’ me.’
‘You an’ your grandfather alone in a boat in the dark on Port Kembla harbour. Could get interestin’.’
Chapter Sixteen
David Lawrence has his right arm down by his side, the keys to the Force’s Commodore in his right hand. He jiggles the keys. From where he stands, near the front door to their lounge room, he can see furniture, decorations, on an occasional table, a black-and-white framed photograph of a man and woman standing beside a Holden car in front of a weatherboard school building.
The Winters are in the kitchen but May’s voice is raised and David can clearly hear her remarks.
‘There’s no need for you to go,’ she says. ‘You know that. You know that. Someone else could easily do it. That’s the problem though, isn’t it? That’s the problem to you. There could be some little sliver of glory. There could be some chance of a tiny accomplishment that would make your superiors praise you. You can’t think of giving that up, can you, and run the risk, maybe somebody else might get the glory? That’s what’s important to you, not your health or what it might mean for me.’
Gordon’s voice is muted by comparison, but Lawrence hears him say, ‘I love you, May.’
‘I know you do,’ she says, after a pause. ‘That’s a part of the problem.’
David takes this as his cue and moves out onto the front verandah. He closes the door behind him as softly as he can. He takes in the view. It’s an overcast morning again but there’s no rain. He looks down the hill over rooftops, between the pale trunks of gum trees to where the ocean laps up onto the beach. Eucalypt boughs and leaf clusters criss-cross each other creating patterns like lace. There are strollers on the sand, he can make out brick steps up the headland to his left, the stone-walled seabaths at the end of the beach to his right. He goes and waits in the Commodore.
