Zarconi’s Magic Flying Fish

by Kirsty Murray

  It wasn’t until Vytas came down to the jetty and hauled them out of the water that they could bring themselves to stop playing with the magic stuff.

  ‘Look, Vytas,’ cried Effie.

  ‘What is it, Vytas?’ asked Gus. ‘Why is it happening?’

  ‘This is phosphorus – it gets in the water and it makes the light to shine in it. That is the magic, the real magic in what you think is the ordinary world. Like I tell you before – the world it is full of this ordinary magic.’

  ‘Yeah, right, Vytas,’ said Effie. ‘And Gus is a dolphin and I’m really a fairy. But you know, the sparkles are really my magic! Just watch this.’ She jumped back into the river, sending a spray of dazzling water into the air.

  ‘You are no fairy, Effie,’ said Vytas. ‘A fox maybe – a real little vixen, but it is mischief you make, not magic!’

  Effie laughed and climbed back onto the jetty, her clothes dripping.

  ‘Magic, mischief, it’s all the same to me,’ she said, wringing the luminous water out of her long hair.

  ‘That’s the truth,’ said Gus. Vytas looked at him and winked and the three of them walked back along the narrow dirt track to the circle of caravans, glowing in the darkness.

  15

  TAKING THE PLUNGE

  It took them nearly a week to get to Busselton and every day Gus tried to work out how he could break into Nance’s security box. He kept himself busy practising juggling and wire-walking, but in the back of his mind he was always thinking of it. At night he’d lie awake and imagine smashing open the box and finally seeing what his dad looked like, but the problem was there was always someone around. He couldn’t find a single chance to get anywhere near it.

  Busselton was an old seaside town on the coast, bigger than any they’d played since Albany. They set up in the middle of the business district, in Churchill Park. The caravans were all parked close to each other in a tight circle. Gus woke up early and opened the door to see Hannah standing in her caravan doorway a few metres away from him. She nodded at him and smiled.

  ‘So strange to be in the middle of a town, no?’ she said. ‘Perhaps you and me and Effie, we can explore this town together. We have reached the Indian Ocean now, and I hear there is good swimming from the jetty. We must try this.’

  They set off after breakfast and walked along the sea front. The sea was flat and glassy in the morning sun. There was a kiosk and a restaurant at the foot of the jetty and Gus scribbled a postcard for his mum while Hannah sat drinking coffee and Effie gorged herself on chocolate sundae.

  Dear Mum,

  I hope you are feeling better. If you can’t come and get me in Perth, that’s okay. Doc says we’re heading North pretty quick, we won’t be there long. I’d rather be in the bush anyway, so it suits me.

  Love, Gus

  Gus felt uncomfortable reading through the postcard after he’d written it. Something was missing, but he wasn’t sure what. He bought a stamp, stuck it on the card and dropped it into a nearby letterbox without thinking about it too much longer. Then he went into the men’s toilet block to change into his swimming shorts.

  There was a long mirror beside the basin and Gus caught his reflection – for a second, he didn’t recognise himself. He couldn’t believe how different he looked. There were a couple of golden brown streaks in his dark hair, which had grown shaggier over the summer. His skin was brown too – darker than he’d ever seen it – but more than anything he couldn’t get over how big his shoulders looked. He held up an arm and flashed a bicep. Back in Melbourne, he had been one of the scrawniest kids in his grade.

  Effie laughed at him when he joined her and Hannah on the jetty.

  ‘You sure look like the cat that just ate the cream,’ she said.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You’re strutting in a really weird way.’ She poked him in the stomach. ‘Stop sticking your chest out like you’re Action Man or something.’

  The jetty seemed to stretch almost to the horizon and the man at the kiosk told them it was the longest in the Southern Hemisphere. A kilometre along its length, there was a small gazebo and a long flight of stairs leading down to a platform where swimmers were leaping into the sea. Hannah reached the bottom of the stairs and spread her towel out on the weathered grey decking. Gus slowed his pace and loitered on the stairway, blocking Effie’s path.

  ‘I’m going to do it tonight,’ he said.

  ‘Do what?’ asked Effie.

  ‘Get a hold of that tin of photos. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t care if I get caught. I’ve got to see what my dad looked like.’

  ‘Boy, I’m sorry I even told you about it. Why don’t you let up? It might not even be your dad.’

  ‘Maybe it’s not, but I’ve got to know. There’s probably a photo of my uncle Gus, anyway.’

  ‘Have you found out any more about him?’

  ‘Nah. How can I? No one wants to talk about him. I reckon he did a bunk – just like my mum. He’s probably living in Sydney or somewhere. I might even have cousins.’

  ‘If he’s only in Sydney, why didn’t your mum send you to stay with him?’

  Gus hadn’t thought that bit through. ‘Maybe he was a sailor who jumped ship or something – maybe he lives in China,’ he said.

  ‘He could send you a postcard. Your mum must be as cranky as Doc to have a bust-up with both her brother and her parents.’

  ‘What would you know? You haven’t even met her. I reckon she has bloody good reasons to not talk to Doc. He’s such a bad-tempered old bugger.’

  ‘What about Nance? She’s okay, isn’t she?’

  Gus wasn’t sure how to answer. Nance was unfathomable. ‘I don’t know. All I know is you’ve gotta help me with this, Effie.’

  ‘How can I?’

  ‘Let me do the take tonight with Nance, let me do it all by myself.’

  ‘But I always do it with her.’

  ‘Make up some excuse not to!’

  Hannah’s voice drifted up to them as they stood arguing on the stairs. Effie took the stairs two at a time, flung off her T-shirt, and dived into the sea.

  Gus watched her swim under the jetty. The water was a pale turquoise, deeper blue where the shadow of the pylons fell across it. He turned around and ran back up the stairs to the top of the jetty. There was a railing along the edge and he hung his towel on it and stared down into the undulating water. It was over 10 metres to the surface. He hooked one leg over the railing and climbed up, getting to his feet slowly. From down on the platform, Hannah was calling him, her voice full of alarm. He shut his eyes and raised his arms above his head, preparing for the dive. The morning air rushed around him as he pushed out from the railing, spinning in a one and a half turn, cutting the water like a diving sea-bird.

  ‘Show-off,’ said Effie as he broke the surface. She pushed him back under and they wrestled in the salty water until their lungs were bursting. Gus was first to reach the rusting iron ladder that led back up to the platform. Hannah was waiting for him at the top.

  ‘So, little flying fish, you want to break your neck and get me in even more trouble than before.’

  Gus took the towel she offered him and dried his face.

  ‘Hannah, I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘If you know so much, tell me how you got this!’ she said, slapping his feet.

  ‘Ow!’ He looked down at the red weals of rope burn that stretched across his feet and curved around his ankles.

  ‘You think I am stupid or something!’ said Hannah. ‘I know how you got these. Rope burn! You have been on the trapeze when you know you are not allowed.’

  Gus swallowed hard. He didn’t think anyone had seen him. A couple of days before, Cas had rigged a trapeze on the branch of a gum tree for Effie to practise on. It had been away from the camp, behind one of the trucks, and Gus had mucked around for a little while, getting the rope burn when he tried to drop into an ankle hang.

  ‘You don’t have to lie to me,
Gus, but never, never must you do this without a mechanic. You are a strong and clever boy but you must not take so many risks. If you want to learn trapeze, you must be trained properly.’

  ‘So you’ll teach me?’ he asked.

  Hannah looked away from him, out across the Indian Ocean to the blue horizon. She looked tired and, for the first time, Gus noticed the wisps of grey hair near the nape of her neck.

  ‘Please, Hannah.’ He touched her lightly on the shoulder.

  She sighed. ‘Okay. Better I help you than you break your neck. You are as stubborn as your grandfather and, you know, this will make more trouble for me if he finds out. But also, I cannot help you alone. We need another in our secret. Vytas.’

  ‘But Vytas is on Doc and Nance’s side. He’ll dob us in for sure.’

  ‘There are no “sides” in this. If I teach you, I do it for all of us – for you, for me, and for Zarconi’s. But for a little while, we will keep it a secret. Vytas – he knows about secrets and how to keep them. I will speak with him tonight, and soon we will start.’

  Gus wanted to crow with pleasure. He dropped the towel and bounded up the stairs to the jetty. A gang of teenagers were doing ‘bombs’ off the railing, but Gus balanced on it with his back to the sea and stretched his arms above his head. For a split second as he cut the air he could imagine he was flying, before the arms of the sea folded around him.

  16

  BREAKING INTO THE PAST

  Gus felt tight with excitement all through the evening’s performance. The tent was packed and the audience roared with laughter at his wire-walking act. The wire was slung only a few feet above the sawdust and he made the act comic by pretending to be clumsy, howling with mock pain as his feet slid apart in the splits, shouting with surprise as he tumbled off the wire into the sawdust.

  All the acts worked well that night, especially the flying trapeze. Gus stood with Vytas beside the fairy-floss machine and watched as the lights dimmed and all eyes turned on Effie and Hannah in their shimmering silver leotards. Vytas rested one hand on Gus’s shoulder and squeezed tightly.

  ‘Soon, little fish, you too will fly,’ he whispered.

  For the first time, Gus watched Effie soar across the big top without a sharp stab of longing and envy.

  After the show, Effie joined him as he lifted little kids onto Miette’s back and took them for rides around the ring.

  ‘Are we gonna do it?’ she whispered.

  Gus nodded and she started nervously fiddling with the spangles on the front of her costume. Gus wanted to slap her hands away. He was sure someone would notice how jumpy they both were. He handed the little kid back to her mother and watched with relief as the last of the crowd left the big top and Cas led Miette away to her float.

  ‘C’mon, Effie,’ said Nance, striding across the ring. ‘Let’s see what this take is worth. I reckon it’s the best night we’ve had in a long while. Pity we can’t do a second show.’

  ‘Come and help take down the rigging, boy,’ said Doc. ‘We want to make Bunbury before midnight.’

  ‘Can’t I help Nance instead?’ he asked.

  ‘Effie can help me,’ said Nance. ‘You go help the men.’

  ‘Umm, I have to go to the toilet,’ said Effie.

  ‘That won’t take you long,’ said Nance.

  ‘Me too,’ said Gus.

  ‘What is it with you kids, hope you’re not getting sick or something,’ Nance called out after them as they slipped out into the night.

  When they got around the far side of the big top, Gus punched Effie in the arm.

  ‘What a dumb thing to say – you have to go to the toilet! Couldn’t you think of anything better than that?’

  ‘Gus, this is really stupid. She might not even ask you to get anything out of the safety deposit box. I’ve only done it a couple of times. Mostly Nance does it, and it’s always locked.’

  ‘Look, just show me where it is and I’ll work out a way to get it open,’ said Gus.

  When the kids peered out from behind the caravan they saw everyone was working on getting the tent down; even Nance was helping with the lights and cables. They crept across the lot to Doc and Nance’s caravan. The evening’s take was sitting on the table with the biscuit tin and a ledger open, ready for Nance to deal with. The kids were careful to crawl along the floor of the caravan so that no one would see them through the caravan windows. In the narrow connecting hall, Effie opened a high cupboard and pointed. ‘Up there,’ she said.

  The fireproof security box was on the top shelf.

  ‘Does she keep all the money in there?’ asked Gus. ‘I wouldn’t want them to think we were stealing.’

  ‘No, that’s always in the biscuit tin. You know that. There’s just a bunch of documents and once in a while, Nance uses that ledger. It’s for tax or something like that. And there’s the photos too. You need the stool to get it down,’ whispered Effie.

  ‘Just give me a leg up, I don’t want to be seen moving around in front of the windows,’ said Gus.

  Effie clasped her hands together and made a stirrup to boost Gus up. He hooked his fingers over the top shelf, grabbed the box in both hands and leapt to the floor.

  ‘I’ve got it,’ he said triumphantly.

  ‘So you have,’ said Nance, stepping into the light at the end of the passageway. Her shadow fell across them and Gus felt a cold sinking feeling in his stomach.

  ‘So what do you think you two are up to?’ she asked.

  Effie looked at Gus.

  ‘I want to see the picture of my father,’ said Gus, looking Nance straight in the eye.

  ‘What makes you think there’s one in here?’

  Neither of the kids answered. Effie started fiddling with the spangles on the front of her costume again.

  ‘Effie, stop picking at those things or we’ll have to sew them back on. You’ve been snooping through my things, haven’t you, girl?’

  ‘It’s not her fault, Nance,’ said Gus, stepping in front of Effie. ‘It was my idea to come and see – I mean if there is a photo of my dad, then I reckon I have a right to see it.’

  ‘Get out of here, Effie, and get out of that costume.’

  Silently Effie slipped past Gus. The screen door slammed shut behind her.

  ‘As for you, Gus,’ said Nance, her green eyes flashing, ‘you can get out there and start rolling up canvas.’

  ‘No,’ said Gus, wrapping his arms firmly around the big metal box and holding his ground.

  ‘Give me that box, Augustus,’ she said, reaching out to take it from him.

  ‘No way.’

  ‘There’s no picture of your father in there,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t believe you. Effie said she saw one. She saw it and she said he looked like me.’

  Nance sighed and dropped her hands. ‘It’s not your father.’

  ‘Well, who is it then?’

  ‘Give me the box and I’ll show you.’

  They sat on the couch together with the open tin at their feet. Nance picked up a big manila envelope and laid it on her lap, smoothing it under her hand before flipping it open. Suddenly, she looked up. ‘C’mon in, stickybeak,’ she called. ‘I can see your costume twinkling out there.’

  Effie stepped back into the caravan, hanging her head. She sniffed and a little sob slipped out.

  ‘I thought…’ she began.

  ‘Never mind what you thought,’ said Nance. She patted the couch, gesturing for Effie to sit down.

  Gus took the first picture Nance offered him and held it with both hands. There was his mum as a teenager, her fair hair brushed back in a tight ponytail. She was laughing, her face open and full of life. Beside her, with his arm around her, was a dark-haired young man, taller than she was and deeply tanned.

  ‘That’s your uncle with your mother there. He could always make her laugh like that. He was always joking, that boy.’

  ‘He’s really handsome,’ said Effie, leaning closer to get a look.

 
Nance didn’t smile. She just took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap.

  ‘Is his name Gus?’ asked Gus.

  ‘Yes, it was. Augustus McGrath O’Brien, but we all called him Gus. My boy, my Gus.’

  Nance was very still and she was staring straight ahead of her. Gus and Effie looked at each other. Gus didn’t want to ask the next question. He could guess what its answer would be.

  ‘Where is he now, Nance? Where’s this Gus?’

  ‘He died before you were born,’ she said slowly. ‘Your mother named you for him. McGrath was my maiden name, before I married your grandfather. Annie took it as her own when she left us.’

  ‘Was it an accident, or was he sick with something?’ asked Gus.

  Nance turned on Gus, her eyes suddenly wide, her expression full of pain. ‘Isn’t it enough to know that he’s gone. Can you leave nothing alone, child?’

  Gus hung his head guiltily. ‘Sorry, Nance,’ he said slipping the photo back into the envelope. ‘We’ll go help with the canvas.’

  He gestured for Effie to follow him. She was standing to one side of the couch looking uncomfortable. As they walked across the lot, Gus glanced back and saw Nance slowly counting the change from the night’s take, the open security box on the floor beside her. Her face was wet with tears, shining in the soft light of the caravan.

  17

  MAKING IT SPIN

  Gus stood in the dappled sunlight under a gum tree and pulled three flimsy chiffon scarves out of his pocket. When Nance had first given them to him they’d been blue and green but now they were grey and ragged around the edges. He’d been learning to juggle with them since Esperance and he’d dropped them in the dirt at nearly every site they’d stopped at. Even though he’d graduated to using juggling balls he still liked to warm up with the ragged scarves.

  After a few minutes, he tucked the scarves into the top of his shorts and pulled some juggling balls from his pocket. Nance had made them out of torn balloons and wheat. They were small and squashy and fell to the ground with a solid splat. Buster came over and sat watching, waiting for a chance to run off with one of them.