Don't Breathe a Word

by Marianne Musgrove

  Eggins Avenue seemed different at night. The dark was like that. Garbage cans looked like goblins squatting in the shadows. The jacaranda outside Mahesh’s place brushed the eaves of his house like a witch’s broom.

  ‘Let’s split up,’ suggested Tahlia. ‘We can cover more ground that way.’

  ‘No way am I wandering around at night on my own,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, all right then,’ said Tahlia. I could tell she was relieved. ‘Let’s go this way. He can’t have got very far. He’s got a sprained ankle, for goodness sake.’

  We checked all the nearby streets, the RSL, the bus stop and the mini-mart. The park was just ahead of us, the trees hunched together like witches around a cauldron. Why did I keep thinking of witches? In the middle was a duck pond, small, but not small enough for my liking. The surface gleamed like an oil slick. There was something sticking up out of the water. A stick or … no, not a stick. A crutch.

  I felt sick for heaps of reasons. Let’s just say I couldn’t afford to lose any more relatives. ‘Tahlia,’ I said, ‘look!’

  She kicked off her shoes, jumped over the little wall that circled the pond, and waded right into the water. She pulled the crutch out of the mud, and some ducks woke up and started quacking. ‘What if he’s in here, Kenzie?’ said Tahlia, looking about her. ‘I need your help.’

  It was strange, but even though we were in the worst of situations, the fact that my sister had asked me for help meant a lot. But when I looked at the water, all I could think about was how it would close around my legs and pull me under. I was being lowered into a deep, dank well again. ‘I can’t,’ I said, backing away.

  ‘Kenzie!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Tahlia basically dredged that whole pond alone, from one side to the next, just like you see the police doing in the movies.

  ‘He’s not in there,’ she said after a few frantic moments. She came over to me, dripping water. ‘Where on earth is he?’ Her voice went up at the end like a little girl’s. ‘What should we do?’

  ‘You’re asking me?’

  She handed me the crutch. ‘The least you can do is carry this,’ she said, and walked off, leaving a trail of wet footprints.

  I followed along behind her, feeling close to panic. Where was he?

  We’d almost reached Eggins Avenue when I saw a man further down the road, standing in a phone booth. I couldn’t make out his face but his chest curved inward, sunken like a –

  ‘Pirate!’ I cried, and ran towards him.

  ‘Blinkin’ vandals!’ said Grandpa. ‘I’ve been trying to phone a taxi for yonks but the machine won’t take me money.’

  A ten-cent piece glinted in his hand.

  ‘Phone calls haven’t cost ten cents for years, Grandpa. Like, before Tahlia and I were born.’

  Grandpa looked at me blankly. ‘How am I supposed to get that toaster part, then?’

  ‘You want to go shopping?’ I said.

  ‘Yes, of course, Meredith. Why else would I be here?’

  Meredith? I looked at Tahlia. ‘He’s dreaming about Mum,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should risk it and wake him. Otherwise, we’ll never get him home.’ I shook his arm. ‘Grandpa, wake up.’

  Tahlia pulled my hand away. ‘He’s not sleepwalking, Kenz,’ she said quietly.

  ‘But he called me Meredith.’

  ‘He’s awake. He believes you’re Mum.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Something’s wrong with him.’

  Grandpa tried to stick the ten-cent piece in the phone again but Tahlia took his arm. ‘Come on, Grandpa,’ she said. ‘The part you’re looking for is back at the house.’

  ‘Really?’ he said. He looked so small and trusting, like a little boy. He shifted his weight. His ankle looked pretty swollen.

  ‘I saw it in the shed,’ she said. ‘Do you want your other crutch?’

  Tahlia was so kind and gentle, it brought back memories of Mum. You didn’t see that side of Tahlia very often.

  I focused on getting home, but once we’d got Grandpa to bed, the panic rose inside me like a river. ‘We need to tell a grown-up,’ I said.

  ‘Come into the kitchen,’ said Tahlia. She motioned for me to sit down at the table. She didn’t have her contacts in so I saw her real eyes – hazel with yellow flecks. ‘Let’s wait and see how he is in the morning. Remember what you overheard Lydia saying? About putting him in a home. We’ll be split up for good.’

  ‘That can’t happen.’

  ‘Then we have to keep quiet about Grandpa. You mustn’t tell anyone. Not ever. Not Annie, not Mahesh, not Mahesh’s mum, not the doctor, not your teacher. And especially not Lydia.’

  ‘But Tahlia –’

  She grabbed me by the arm and hauled me into my bedroom. ‘Get your lucky doorknob.’

  ‘Bossy boots,’ I muttered.

  That night, we took turns keeping watch to make sure Grandpa didn’t go walkabout again. I offered to take the first shift but Tahlia told me to get some sleep. I decided to take advantage of this abnormally generous offer, only I couldn’t sleep.

  Something was seriously wrong with Grandpa. I mean, who went looking for a spare part in the middle of the night? Why did he think he only needed ten cents to make a phone call? And why did he keep calling me Meredith? It was like he’d gone back in time thirty years and I didn’t exist anymore.

  What I needed was my secret stash of message books. They always made me feel better. I’d come across them in the shed a couple of years ago. They contained phone messages taken down by Mum and Dad. These notes weren’t addressed to me, but when I read them, it felt like my parents were talking to me.

  Lots of the messages were quite ordinary. For example,

  Meredith

  Dishwasher thingy broken. Fixeruperer coming tomorrow at noon.

  Love, Simon

  Others were jokey:

  Simon,

  The video store called again. Casablanca is now nine weeks overdue and the fine is more than $40. We’re running out of video stores to join. We’re going to have to adopt false identities!

  Yours,

  Meredith aka Cordelia Templeton-Finke

  I smiled to myself, skimming the book till I found my favourite bit:

  Simon,

  Call me as soon as you get this. I have HUGE news!!!!!!!

  Meredith xxxooo

  Judging by the date, I think Mum had just found out she was pregnant with me. She put seven exclamation marks!

  A few months later, there was this:

  S,

  I’m thinking bubs is a unique creature and, as such, needs a unique name. What do you think of Haiku or Mystique or even Zephyr?

  Love, M

  No offence, M. You know I love you dearly, but Haiku? Mystique? Zephyr? Over my dead body! What about something more traditional – and less likely to cause lifelong bullying – like, say, Amanda, Talitha or Michelle?

  S xxx

  There was nothing about my name for a couple of weeks, then there was this:

  Simon,

  I felt her kick for the first time today. She’s really in there! It’s not just my imagination. I’m telling you, our girl is a strong one, and a strong girl needs a strong name. Something with character. What do you think of … (drum roll) … Mackenzie?

  Love, your Meredith.

  I put the book down. I hadn’t been feeling very strong lately, especially since high school was looming. One more term of primary and then I’d be at the mercy of Year Nines who wanted to flush my head down the toilet. I hadn’t told Annie, but whenever I thought about it, my stomach knotted up, a full round turn and two half-hitches.

  Then there was the business of my project. Mr Goodfellow had said that while ‘A History of Toilets Through the Ages’ was well researched and very interesting, it wasn’t actually the topic he had set. He therefore had no choice but to fail me unless I redid the proper topic – ‘A History of Our Local Area’. The project was due the first day back so I only had tw
o weeks to do it. So yeah, I had a lot on my mind, and that was before Grandpa had started doing weird things and Lydia had decided to get to know us better.

  I put the message book back in my box of special things and switched off the light. Mum thought I could cope. She said I was unique and strong and that I had character. And she should know. She was my mum.

  Tahlia shoved a small blue and green packet in my face.

  ‘It was these!’ she announced.

  It was the next morning and I was making Grandpa breakfast. I took the packet from her. ‘Grandpa’s painkillers? So what?’

  ‘The script was filled yesterday but look how many are gone. He’s taken heaps. No wonder he was out of it. According to the warning inside, you’re not supposed to operate heavy machinery when you’re on this stuff. It causes drowsiness and all kinds of mentalness.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘I just spoke to him and he’s back to normal, Kenzie.’

  ‘He’s okay?’ I said quietly. If I was a mushy sort of person, I would have hugged her then and there, but Tahlia and I weren’t like that. At the most, we might shake hands, but only when absolutely necessary, like when Tahlia’s appendix burst and we thought she might die.

  She spun around in a happy pirouette. ‘Come and see for yourself.’

  I quickly smeared the toast with the last of the marg and squished some fresh mulberries on top since we had no jam left.

  ‘Morning, Kenzie,’ said Grandpa. ‘Breakfast in bed? And flowers too?’

  I’d picked some yellow soursobs and put them in an empty Vegemite jar.

  Grandpa held out a book he was reading on Vee Dubs. ‘Isn’t she a beauty?’ he said. ‘A ’74 L-Bug, she is. Taught your mother to drive in one just like it. She named her Claude. Let me get my photo album and I’ll show you.’ He tried to get out of bed but winced. ‘My ankle is worse today, for some reason.’

  I glanced at his crutches leaning against the wall, one of them covered in mud.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked. ‘After last night and everything?’

  Grandpa looked at me blankly.

  ‘After your, um, stroll?’

  ‘Stroll?’ said Grandpa. ‘I’m not really up for a stroll, love. Need to rest the old leg.’ He turned the page of his book. ‘See this model? It’s pre-war.’

  ‘He doesn’t remember,’ I mouthed at Tahlia.

  ‘Painkillers,’ she mouthed back.

  I hoped she was right. I really did. But could a few pills really affect someone that much?

  Tahlia had no such doubts. She picked up her dance bag. ‘Better run or I’ll be late for rehearsal.’

  ‘Do you have to go?’ I asked, glancing at Grandpa.

  ‘Sophie’s been trying to steal my role ever since I was chosen,’ she said. ‘I need to be there to stop her. She wouldn’t know an arabesque if it jumped up and punched her on the nose.’

  ‘Well, okay then,’ I said uncertainly. ‘See ya, Tahls.’

  After breakfast, I got out a pack of cards. Grandpa and I were both tired after last night’s adventure and needed to take it easy. I helped him onto the back verandah and we played Five Hundred. I won every hand, but only because Grandpa pretended to forget the rules.

  Around noon, Annie phoned to ask me over for lunch. She still wanted to be friends with me! I agreed, then wondered if I’d done the right thing.

  ‘I can stay if you want me to,’ I said to Grandpa. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling okay?’

  ‘I’ll be fine on me ownsome,’ he replied. ‘Just bring out me radio and I’m set.’

  I hesitated, remembering our frantic search the night before. But he seemed fine, and Tahlia would be back soon. I grabbed my bike helmet and dashed out the door.

  ‘Oh,’ said Regan, opening Annie’s front door. ‘It’s you.’

  Annie had invited the Egans. Great. Not! My plans to play in the tree house and practise stunts on Annie’s brother’s skateboard flew out the window. Instead, Regan and Tegan announced they were giving me a makeover. A makeover! Annie was desperate for me to go along with it. I guess she wanted to please the Egans, and I wanted to please Annie so …

  I eventually escaped two hours later, my hair full of gunk and my eyes covered with horrible silver eye shadow.

  I rode home, wiping it off onto the cuff of my sleeve as I composed a hate poem about the Egans. It wasn’t a very good poem. The only thing that rhymed with ‘Egan’ was ‘vegan’. I got so distracted I almost ran into Lydia’s car, which was parked in our driveway. She’d probably come over to clean the oven or something.

  I was wrong.

  You could hear the shouting from the street.

  I ran into the lounge room. Grandpa was in his recliner, looking really stressed out and helpless. Tahlia and Lydia were facing each other, Tahlia in her dance outfit: a black and white striped leotard and baggy trackie daks. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail which was coming loose. Lydia was in a green tent dress, hands on hips. If it weren’t for their outfits, they could have been two gunslingers in a Western.

  ‘How could you be so irresponsible?’ demanded Lydia.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Tahlia, ‘but why don’t you get a life? Preferably one that doesn’t involve you coming round here and telling us what to do.’

  ‘Girls,’ said Grandpa. ‘Please.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

  They all turned to look at me. ‘I dropped by, only to find Grandpa on the kitchen floor with a smashed mug next to him,’ said Lydia accusingly. ‘No one was here to get him a drink!’

  ‘I shouldn’t have been so daft,’ said Grandpa. ‘Trying to make a cup of tea when me balance is wobbly. It’s not the girls’ fault.’

  ‘Did you hurt yourself?’ I asked, going over to him.

  ‘Only me pride,’ he said.

  Lydia grabbed my arm. ‘Where were you, young lady?’

  ‘At Annie’s,’ I said. ‘I thought Tahlia would be back from rehearsal any minute, and Pirate said it was okay to go out. I never would have gone if –’

  ‘You don’t have to explain yourself,’ said Tahlia. ‘She’s not our mother.’

  ‘There’s no harm done,’ said Grandpa. ‘How’s about we all watch a bit of um, of … what’s it called? TV.’

  ‘No harm done?’ said Lydia. She paced back and forth, rubbing her belly. ‘It’s just not good enough!’

  Tahlia’s contact lenses looked ready to ping across the room. Lydia didn’t realise it but Tahlia was on the brink of a mentactacle.

  ‘Who are you,’ said Tahlia, ‘to decide what’s good enough? No, seriously. You,’ she pointed a finger at Lydia, ‘forfeited the right to interfere in our lives when you took off to Europe after Mum and Dad died.’

  ‘Tahlia,’ said Grandpa. He tried to get out of his chair. ‘Please, be kind to one another.’

  ‘We don’t need you and your stupid vegies and stupid cleaning,’ continued Tahlia. ‘We’ll look after Grandpa, right?’

  ‘You’ll look after Grandpa?’ said Lydia in a shrill voice. ‘Judging by today’s effort, you haven’t been doing a very good job of it.’ She was red in the face and shaking.

  ‘You’ve no right to comment,’ said Tahlia. ‘Has she, Kenzie?’

  Everyone looked at me. ‘Don’t drag me into it,’ I muttered.

  Tahlia stared at me like I’d betrayed her. ‘You wouldn’t sit on the fence if you saw what she’d done to your room,’ she said darkly.

  I raced into my bedroom. My lovely green velvet curtains had disappeared, replaced by yucky pink, girly ones with flowers all over them.

  ‘Lydia!’ I cried. I raced back into the lounge room. ‘What have you done with my green curtains?’

  ‘They’re … I … I made you some new ones,’ said Lydia. ‘As a present.’

  ‘After I specifically told you not to?’

  ‘You needed new ones,’ she stammered.

  ‘Unbelievable! Where are my green ones?’<
br />
  ‘In the bin,’ said Tahlia smugly. ‘On top of the mouldy old spag bol.’

  ‘What?’ I shrieked. ‘Lydia! How dare you?’

  Grandpa reached out to me. ‘Please,’ he pleaded, ‘there’s no need for all this. Kenzie, love, stop.’

  It was too late for that. ‘Lydia, you’re such a –’

  I was about to finish the sentence when Lydia started crying and an annoying, icky feeling came over me. Maybe it was guilt. Who can say? I was too far into my mentactacle to pay much attention to it. But then Grandpa tried to stand up, only to fall back into his seat.

  ‘Tahlia, Kenzie,’ he said, ‘this isn’t like you. Please stop. You two are being very mean to … to … your sister.’

  ‘Half-sister,’ muttered Tahlia. ‘It hardly counts.’

  There was a horrible silence. I stole a look at Lydia. She was wiping her eyes with her fingers. Grandpa was too. Even Tahlia had a ‘maybe-I-went-too-far’ look on her face. That was the thing about mentactacles. They were fine while you were in the middle of them, but when you stopped, you wanted to buy a word vacuum cleaner so you could suck up everything you’d just said.

  Lydia reached out her hand, I’m not sure who to. ‘I was only trying to help,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d like the curtains. And I didn’t realise you’d see my buying food and cleaning up as interference. You didn’t seem to be managing, and now that Grandpa’s … gone downhill, well, look at what happened today.’

  ‘Steady on,’ said Grandpa. ‘I won’t be pushing up daisies for a while yet.’

  ‘I know I wasn’t around much after Mum and Dad’s accident,’ continued Lydia. ‘I suppose you think I don’t have a right, but still, I am your sister, even if only half. I’ll be a mother soon and that’s made me see things a whole lot differently.’ She sighed deeply and placed a hand on her huge tummy. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘No, don’t go,’ said Grandpa. ‘Tahlia, Kenzie.’ He nodded in Lydia’s direction.

  I was feeling pretty guilty but then I remembered the conversation I’d overheard: Lydia wanted to stick Grandpa in a home and sell Tahlia and me into slavery. Well, maybe not that, but she and Daniel wouldn’t take us in. Their flat was way too small, and anyway, they’d be busy with the new baby. They wouldn’t want us around, and, let’s face it, would we really want to live with them? I decided it was better to squirm with guilt than apologise to Lydia and be split up.