Don't Breathe a Word

by Marianne Musgrove

  Grandpa and I had the sandwiches for tea. Tahlia didn’t get back till after we’d finished. She hadn’t phoned and I was halfway to a mentactacle. Just how long did sequin sewing take?

  ‘Where have you been?’ I demanded, following her into her bedroom. ‘You’re supposed to be helping with Grandpa, not leaving everything to me!’

  ‘Settle, petal,’ said Tahlia, dumping her bag on her bed. ‘Bree and I had a lot of stuff to talk about.’

  ‘I thought you were sewing.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, we were,’ said Tahlia, ‘while we were talking.’ She unpacked her bag, the whole time avoiding looking at me. ‘What’s the big deal anyway? Did something happen to Grandpa?’

  I was about to launch into a rant about how he’d almost electrocuted himself when I remembered Tahlia’s reaction to the movie incident. No matter what the facts were, she would make it out to be my fault. And maybe it was. Pictures of what might have happened to Grandpa flashed through my mind. It was as if someone had opened the door of a freezer. The blast of cold air went straight through me.

  ‘He’s fine,’ I said.

  ‘That’s a relief,’ said Tahlia. ‘Makes me less worried about going away on Saturday night.’

  ‘What do you mean going away?’

  ‘I told you already. The performance finishes late and the venue’s on the other side of town, so we’re going to sleep over at Hayley’s place and come back on Sunday.’

  I stared at her. ‘No, you didn’t tell me.’

  ‘Didn’t I? I was sure I did.’

  If I’d had a lemon meringue pie, I would have smashed it into Tahlia’s face. If she needed my kidney, I would’ve said no. When the phone rang, I nearly tore it out of its socket. ‘Yes?’ I snapped. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Mackenzie, it’s me, Lydia. You sound fed up.’

  ‘I am fed up.’

  ‘Why? What’s the matter?’ She sounded so concerned, so ready to help. How easy would it be to tell her, to have someone else take care of things? Someone other than me.

  ‘I stubbed my toe,’ I said. ‘That’s all. How can I help?’

  ‘I’ve just been on the phone with Mrs Banerjee. She told me she saw you and Grandpa at the bank.’

  My heart began to thud. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Said he was quite agitated. She was concerned.’

  ‘No, no, he’s fine,’ I reassured her. ‘There was a bit of confusion over his bank balance, that’s all.’

  ‘Grandpa was confused?’

  I realised my mistake. ‘Not confused confused. Just, y’know, it was the bank’s fault. They stuffed up his account. It’s all sorted out now, though.’

  Lydia was quiet for a moment. ‘Are you sure everything’s okay? Mrs Banerjee also mentioned something about an exploding microwave.’

  ‘Oh, you know Pirate and his gadgets. Could’ve happened to anyone. Look, I really have to go and do some stuff.’

  ‘Of course. I just wondered, would it be okay if I popped by on the weekend?’

  My big sister asking my permission to visit? How un-Lydia-like.

  ‘How’s Sunday afternoon?’ she suggested.

  I couldn’t figure out how to get out of it without looking suss. ‘Sure,’ I said at last. I’d call her on Saturday and reschedule. Then I’d keep putting her off for as long as possible. ‘See you, Lyd.’

  When I returned to Tahlia’s bedroom, she was leaning into the mirror, checking her pores. ‘My skin is ageing,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to get plastic surgery when I’m older.’

  I was ready to do something no plastic surgery would ever fix. ‘You can’t leave me alone on Saturday night,’ I said. ‘Grandpa could do anything.’

  ‘But you just said he was fine. And he’ll probably be better by the weekend. He didn’t get up last night, did he? See? He’s improving.’

  ‘But Tahlia –’

  She breezed past me and headed for the loo.

  ‘What if he isn’t?’ I said to the closed bathroom door.

  Forgetfulness wasn’t such a bad thing. That was what I told myself every time I found the iron in the fridge or Grandpa’s drill in the pantry. Just because he put things back in the wrong place didn’t mean he was crazy. And just because he called me Meredith sometimes didn’t mean he didn’t know who I was at other times. He’d only tried to escape once since he nearly electrocuted himself. And I’d got him back inside without too much trouble. That meant he was getting better.

  Tahlia was obviously feeling guilty about her upcoming sleep-over because she tried to be home more often. She promised – swore – that by the end of the holidays she would come up with a plan to deal with everything. In the meantime, she managed to borrow some more money so we could eat. Although Grandpa had been paid again, we couldn’t get at the money because he’d forgotten his PIN number. And we couldn’t take him to the bank because he might cause a scene.

  On Thursday, Tahlia gave me the afternoon off. I decided to pay Annie a surprise visit, but the funny thing was, when I got to the bottom of Eggins Avenue, I found myself cycling up Mahesh’s driveway instead. Mrs B. gave me a big hug hello and Basanti and Vijay took turns showing me tricks. (Vijay could turn his eyelids inside out, Basanti could bend her thumb back so it touched her wrist.)

  Mahesh and I hung out in his room for a while then Mrs B. made us some snacks. Nothing major happened during my visit. Just normal family stuff. When it was time to go, Mrs B. gave me a goodbye hug.

  ‘You look tired, dear,’ she said. ‘Is everything okay?’

  I nodded yes, hanging on to her a little longer than necessary. Wow, two hugs in one day and I didn’t even mind.

  Why did everything happen while I was in the loo? On Friday, the day before the dance concert, Tahlia had gone off to the final all-day rehearsal and I’d just shut the loo door when I heard the front door bells jingle. Grandpa! By the time I got out, he was halfway down the drive.

  ‘Thought I’d pop out for a walk,’ he said, when I caught up to him.

  ‘I’ll come too,’ I replied.

  ‘No, no, love. You stay where you are. Get some homework done.’

  ‘It’s okay. I can do it later.’

  ‘No,’ said Grandpa. ‘That homework won’t do itself.’ He looked like he meant it. Normally, he was pretty easygoing. I guess he’d got sick of me trailing around after him all the time. ‘I won’t go far,’ he said.

  ‘Do you want your crutches?’ I asked, trying to buy some time.

  He shook his head. ‘Can’t stand the blinkin’ things. And besides, me ankle’s much better.’

  ‘At least take Grandma’s old walking stick.’

  I went inside to find it but when I got back, Grandpa was gone. I locked up the house as fast as I could and sneaked a look down the street to see which way he’d headed. The truth was, no fully grown adult wanted their granddaughter to think they were a little child in need of a babysitter. I decided to follow him from a distance. Sort of to protect his dignity.

  He was pretty fast for an old bloke with a limp. He’d made his way down Eggins Avenue and up Galston Road before I caught up with him. After about 200 metres, he crossed the street and walked down this long alleyway that led to the local shops. I had to wait around the corner until Grandpa had walked right to the end of it, just in case he looked back. When the coast was clear, I ran all the way to the end, hoping I’d catch up.

  That turned out to be a huge mistake. There was no sign of him.

  There was a row of shops and heaps of kids wandering in and out of the arcade. I searched and searched for Grandpa but it was like that magician’s trick: a person gets into a special box then, abracadabra! The magician opens the box and the person is gone. This was bad, bad, bad.

  Just as I was about to have a total freak-out, I saw Mahesh come out of the fish and chip shop. He raised an eyebrow at me and came straight over. ‘You look like you need help,’ he said.

  I didn’t go into details, just explained that Grandpa had gone off and
I needed to find him. We split up, taking one side of the street each. There were people everywhere, some of them staring as I dashed from shop to shop. I didn’t care. Things had gone beyond that.

  When we met at the end of the street, Mahesh shook his head. ‘Should we check the park in Ray Road?’

  ‘The park?’ I said. ‘Next to the public pool?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I sighed one humungous sigh. ‘He’s missing the Polar Bears,’ I said.

  ‘The polar bears?’ said Mahesh, looking puzzled.

  ‘He hasn’t been swimming in weeks. The sea’s too hard to get to. He’ll have headed for the next best thing. Come on!’

  As we ran to the pool, I found myself slowing down. The smell of the chlorine made my stomach go all knotty. Calm down, I said to myself. You don’t have to go in the water. Just near it.

  My little pep talk wasn’t really working. As soon as I saw that big blue stretch of water through the wire fence, my heart dropped, taking me with it, all the way to the bottom of a well.

  I started to hyperventilate. Sort of like how actresses on TV breathe when they’re having a baby.

  ‘Are you okay?’ said Mahesh.

  ‘Yeah, no, I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I mean, there’s no way I’m going in there. But I have to.’ I took a step forward. I took a step back. I was so angry with myself but I just couldn’t do it.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ said Mahesh.

  I shook my head. ‘It’s just, I have this thing with water. I can’t … it freaks me out. I can’t … I can’t …’ My breathing got faster and faster. ‘Mum and Dad, they …’

  I looked at the faded mermaid on my arm. I knew I could tell him. ‘I have this dream where I’m trapped in the bottom of a well. The walls are slimy and it’s cold down there. I’ve got no way of getting out. Mum and Dad … they’ve never been in a well but they … they died. In a boating accident. That’s why I can’t go in there. But what about Grandpa?’

  Mahesh led me over to a park bench, facing away from the pool. He offered me a Fruit Tingle then went through the gates of the pool by himself. He wasn’t long. Turned out Grandpa didn’t have any money for the entrance fee. Mahesh found him arguing with the pool attendant guy.

  By the time he brought him back to me, my breathing had slowed right down. But my problems weren’t over yet. Grandpa’s eyes flashed. ‘Did you tell them not to let me in?’ he demanded.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘Did you phone them up and tell them not to let me in?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Why was he accusing me of working against him? ‘I wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’ said Grandpa, his face all dark and sulky.

  That was one of the lowest points of my life. The very bottom of a bottomless well. The idea that Grandpa could think I was a member of some kind of secret police. That I stopped people going to public pools. That I was his guard. His gaoler.

  ‘Why are you being like this?’ I cried. ‘I need you to be a grown-up!’

  Grandpa gave me dirty looks all the way down the street. I really wanted to cry then. In fact, I think I probably did. Mahesh talked the whole time, pretending not to notice.

  When we got to the head of Ray Road, I stopped. ‘No one can see him,’ I said to Mahesh. ‘Not while he’s like this.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ said Grandpa, sitting down on a bench. He picked up a newspaper someone had left behind and flicked through it.

  I looked helplessly at Mahesh.

  ‘We could catch a taxi,’ he suggested.

  ‘No money,’ I replied. The tears were welling up again.

  Mahesh rubbed his forehead. ‘I know!’ he said. ‘Wait here.’

  He ran off in the direction of the shopping centre. I barely had the energy to smile when he returned a few moments later with a shopping trolley.

  ‘Ta da!’ he cried.

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  ‘We’ll push him in this.’

  I stared at him. For the past little while, I’d been relying on him like he was an adult. I suddenly noticed his too-big clothes and too-big shoes and remembered he was just a kid like me. ‘Are you crazy? People will notice. And more importantly,’ I added, leaning in so Grandpa wouldn’t hear, ‘how are we going to get you-know-who into it?’

  ‘I thought it was genius,’ said Mahesh. He sat down next to me and sulked for a bit.

  I sighed. The longer we stayed put, the greater the chance we’d be seen by someone we knew.

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘We’ll try the shopping trolley. We’ll duck round Chelmsford Avenue then take Kooringal. That comes out almost at the end of Ray Road. That way, we’ll only have to pass a couple of shops and not the whole strip.’

  Getting Grandpa into the shopping trolley turned out to be much easier than we imagined. It seemed Grandpa had raced shopping trolleys in his younger days. His mood lifted as he plonked himself in backwards, his legs and arms hanging over the sides. ‘This takes me back,’ he said. He had more mood swings than Tahlia!

  We took the back streets. Grandpa flung his arms in the air and whooped. When we got to the corner of Kooringal and Ray Road, we peeked out to see if anyone was there. We only had to walk past three shops before the alleyway.

  I reached in my pocket for my lucky doorknob. It wasn’t there. I must have left it at home. I felt my luck drain away.

  We’d wheeled past one shop when out of the milk bar on the corner stepped Annie, Regan and Tegan. The Egans had their backs to me but Annie was looking straight at me, her eyes as big as egg yolks.

  Everyone froze. It was as though someone had pressed the pause button. Even Grandpa was still. What a sight we must have been, two kids pushing an old bloke in a shopping trolley. I looked at Annie desperately, sending her thought waves: Please don’t let the Egans see us. They’ll tell everyone and we’ll be found out. Help me.

  Of course, I had no right to expect Annie to help me. We hadn’t talked properly for ages and our friendship was a big fat mess. And yet we’d been friends for so long. Surely that counted for something?

  Someone took their finger off the pause button. Annie leant forward and spoke to the Egans. We were too far away to hear what she was saying. My heart hammered in my chest, bam bam bam bam. I gripped the trolley. I couldn’t look away.

  Were we busted?

  Annie was going to dob us in. I knew it! Any moment now, Regan and Tegan would turn around and see us.

  Just as I thought we were done for, Annie held her stomach and bent over. What on earth was she doing? Crouched over, she staggered towards the door of the milk bar. She went in. The Egans followed.

  ‘Let’s go!’ said Mahesh.

  We pushed the trolley together, getting up some real speed. As we passed the door of the milk bar, I glanced in. Annie was bent over, rocking back and forth. The Egans had their backs to the door, trying to comfort her. A fake stomach ache. Legend.

  ‘Make a right,’ said Mahesh. ‘We’ll be home soon.’

  Tahlia was late getting home. How unusual. She was pretty unkeen to talk but I didn’t care. I cornered her in her bedroom, barring the door. ‘You can’t go to the concert on Saturday night,’ I said.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ she replied. ‘It’s just twenty-four hours. It’ll be over in no time.’

  ‘Grandpa took off today. He’s totally lost it.’

  ‘He took off?’ she said. ‘How could you let him –’

  ‘N’uh,’ I said, shaking my finger. ‘You don’t get to be mad with me this time. You weren’t here. You don’t know. I stay home all day and I lie awake half the night and I do the washing and the cooking and I worry about the food and the money and you do nothing.’

  ‘I looked after him yesterday.’

  ‘One afternoon. So what? You can’t expect me to look after him overnight.’

  ‘He seems fine to me,’ said Tahlia, laying her costumes out on the bed. ‘He knew who I was.’

 
‘He’s not fine,’ I said. ‘He’s getting worse. It’s the daytime and he thought I was plotting against him.’ I was ready to bawl. Not now, I thought. Keep it together. I crossed my arms, staring her down. ‘You can’t go. I forbid you.’

  Tahlia laughed. ‘You forbid me? Really, Kenzie.’ She pulled out her collection of contact lenses. ‘Should I wear the blues ones for the performance or stick with one blue and one green?’

  ‘Tahlia!’ I smacked the cases out of her hands.

  ‘Hey!’ she said. ‘No need to chuck a mentactacle.’

  I slammed my hand on the dressing table. ‘Why won’t you listen to me?’

  ‘Look, Kenzie.’ She had on her ‘let’s-be-reasonable’ face. ‘I don’t blame you for doubting yourself, but I have faith in you. You’ll manage really well.’

  ‘On Monday, Grandpa caused a scene in the bank,’ I said. ‘And now we can never go back there. Then today, he took off and Mahesh and I had to wheel him home in a shopping trolley! Not to mention the time he blacked out the Banerjees’ place. I – can’t – manage.’

  Tahlia looked at me closely. ‘You took Grandpa to the bank? In public? Then you took him for a jaunt to the shops with your boyfriend? And then you visited the Banerjees? How could you be so … ?’

  ‘What? Stop blaming me. It’s not my fault! I had to go to the bank. We had no food!’

  ‘Kenzie! I leave you in charge and look what happens! You’ll have to be much more reliable when I’m away.’

  ‘You’re not still going, are you? Not after what I’ve told you.’

  Tahlia wouldn’t look at me. She went back to laying out her costumes.

  I took a long, deep breath to try and calm down. ‘I’m so tired and I’ve got so much work to do. I haven’t even started on that assignment. You can’t stay overnight. Right, Tahlia? Or am I the only one who cares about Grandpa?’

  Tahlia picked up one of her dance shoes and flung it at the wall. Her face was flushed.