by Simon French
“Right,” Buckley said suddenly. “Here you go–” and gave the board a push.
Trevor felt the wave abruptly lifting him, felt the board being forced forwards. Behind him, Buckley yelled, “Paddle!”
He paddled frantically, and the board kept pace with the heightening wave.
“Kneel!” Buckley yelled.
Shakily, Trevor eased on to his knees and for a brief moment felt himself actually steering the plank of fibreglass, felt himself in control. He plunged headlong down a slippery dip of salt water, and with an effort steadied the board’s course. The balance seemed right, and he straightened up a little. In a single swift movement, the wave threw him off the board into the water.
For a moment, he was churned madly about before struggling to his feet in chest-deep water. There was a roar as another wave broke over him and churned him under once again, flooding his mouth and nose with water. He finally struggled upright in the shallows near the shore, trying to catch his breath. The board had been washed up on to the sand beside him.
“Are you all right?” said Kath.
Trevor spluttered and coughed. At that very moment he felt far from all right, but managed to answer “yes”, nevertheless. He started coughing again, then, and Kath obligingly slapped his back.
“That was classic, Trev,” she said. “The first few moments, you very nearly had it. If you–”
“I lost my balance,” he spluttered. “That wave was all over me.”
Buckley emerged from the surf. “Not bad, not bad. Your first try on a board and all. You’ll have to practise if you want to improve.”
“Can I practise now?” Trevor’s voice dropped off as Buckley shook his head in reply.
“Not right now. You’ll have another chance to, soon enough …”
“When?”
“… but right now, we have to get on the road.”
The waves crashed and spilled on to the sand. The sea’s presence was demanding and warmly hypnotic. For a few quiet moments, the three of them watched the ocean, before turning to leave. It was afternoon, and they were driving.
The sun was hot on his legs, because he was on the kombi’s front seat, wedged between Kath, who was driving, and Buckley, who was gazing through the open passenger window. In his ears were the familiar kombi noises, the bangs and rattles, the cough-splutter of the engine that changed pitch with each change of gears.
They were on a road that twisted and wound its way through hills and lush valleys, over creeks and rivers and through small towns with nothing but the highway to define them. Electrifying this landscape was the occasional glimpse of the nearby coastline and a width of ocean.
They were moving again.
In his mind, he could picture a school he’d been to. He could see a barren classroom and the children who occupied it, he could see trees, playground and orderly morning assemblies. Abruptly, his mind pictured a person called Fuller, and he thought then about his mother buying him football clothes and about training sessions and football matches.
He thought about Martin Grace then, but it was only a faint sort of image, because he still didn’t fully understand Martin. And then, he thought about himself and his parents.
He opened his eyes.
The breeze swept in through the kombi’s open window, and Kath’s long light hair blew with it. She was humming familiar tunes and although she was busy driving, Trevor sensed from the distant expression on her face that her thoughts were very much elsewhere. Buckley, meanwhile, was still gazing through the window at the passing landscape, a faint smile crossing his stubbly face.
Trevor smiled too, and a cluster of sadnesses seemed to leave him. Images of the town, the caravan park, Martin Grace, Fuller and the team were suddenly shrivelled, insignificant memories. An inexplicable optimism swept through him, and he tried to think of what was happening right now. This time, something seemed abundantly different, yet he was at odds explaining to himself the exact difference. Finally, he gave in.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Hmmm?” Buckley seemingly hadn’t heard.
“Where are we going?” Trevor repeated. “Now?”
Buckley seemed to think for a while then, as he tried to frame an adequate reply. The kombi drove on, the incessant engine noise matched calmly by the song Kath was still humming. Fleetingly, Trevor’s mind filled with vague pictures of a time long past. For a moment, he could see himself as a small child again, four years old in a place he had never really forgotten …
Buckley smiled then, and at last replied.
“We’re going home, Trevor.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Simon French grew up in Sydney’s west, and had his first novel published while he was still at high school. He has written many novels and picture books, and been published in Australia and overseas. His work is praised by critics and has won several awards, including the 1987 Children’s Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Award for All We Know. Change the Locks was an Honour Book in 1992. Where in the World won the 2003 NSW Premier’s Literary Award for Children’s Literature, and was short-listed for the 2003 CBCA Book of the Year for Younger Readers, long-listed for the 2003 Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize and nominated to the IBBY Honour List in 2004. His most recent novel, Other Brother, was short-listed for the 2013 CBCA Book of the Year for Younger Readers award. Simon is a primary school teacher in the Hawkesbury region of New South Wales.
First print edition published in 1981 by Angus & Robertson Publishers, Australia.
Published in 2012
by Walker Books Australia Pty Ltd
Locked Bag 22, Newtown
NSW 2042 Australia
www.walkerbooks.com.au
This ebook edition published in 2014
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Text © 1981 Simon French
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without the prior written permission of the publisher.
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
French, Simon, 1957– author.
Cannily, cannily / Simon French.
For children.
Subjects: Casual labor – Australia – Juvenile fiction.
Mobile home living – Australia – Juvenile fiction.
Teenage boys – Australia – Juvenile fiction.
A823.3
ISBN: 978-1-922244-74-1 (ePub)
ISBN: 978-1-922244-73-4 (e-PDF)
ISBN: 978-1-922244-75-8 (.PRC)
Cover image © iStockphoto/Özgür Donmaz
For Trevor
