by Nikki Buick
Dad was a no-nonsense tradie. He wore King Gees and monotone button-up shirts during the week, and jeans and a t-shirt on weekends. Fashion was something that never entered his head. Mum had been a bit of a greenie fringe-dweller, but after meeting Step she’d become even more of a bead-wearing, knotty-haired alternative. He wasn’t remotely alternative when they’d met but for some reason Mum had decided to up the incense since he’d moved in and he seemed to like that. It seemed like he’d had an inner hippy simmering beneath the surface and Mum had awakened that and given him permission to release it.
The lack of hot showers and proper shade had seen us all fraying and fading like old beach towels. There was ‘The Addams Family’, ‘The Simpsons’ and then there was us, ‘The Feral Family’. Even Pippa and I looked like we’d just stumbled off the hippy commune. My hair was a lot longer and Pip’s hair looked like a bird’s nest.
‘You don’t have to do the project on sugar cane if you don’t want to,’ Step offered, breaking the awkward silence as we walked down to check out the pool and barbeque area. A kind of olive branch, I guess. I didn’t want to accept it, because then he’d win a point. I’d be left holding the shorter stick.
‘Nah,’ I said. ‘Sugar cane is fine.’
‘Really, buddy,’ he kept on. ‘Learning happens faster and more effectively if you add a little passion. So, I insist, Hunter. I want you to do a project on something that really speaks to you. From the heart. Just give it to me at the end of the week, eh? A thousand words.’
I nodded. Somehow he’d won that point anyway. One point for Step. Sneaky. I decided though to just do the damn thing. I too could offer an olive branch. I didn’t want to fight with Step and Mum. It wasn’t that I wanted to constantly cause trouble, although I could see from their point of view that it looked that way sometimes. I just resented the expectation that I would love Step as much as Mum did. He didn’t love me. I doubted whether he even liked me. He tolerated me for Mum’s sake. And I, in turn, just wanted to tolerate him for Mum’s sake. I didn’t want more than that. I didn’t want to be his mate, his friend, his ward or his son.
There were the history essays to get through but there was also an English assignment that had to be done and it was a 3,000-word piece with the subject ‘Something that changed my life’. The rock at Bowen had changed my view of some things but that was personal and I wasn’t about to put that in a school project.
The recreation centre was a surprise. The kidney-shaped pool was fringed with palms, ferns and flowers, and Step and I moved over to a clean, almost-new barbeque.
‘Nice television.’ Step pointed to the flat screen mounted on the wall of the undercover area. ‘Very comfy,’ he said, giving the place the once over. ‘Luxury hey, Hunter?’
‘It’s okay, I guess,’ I shrugged.
We stabbed the sausages with forks and threw them on the sizzling hotplate. Mum had sent down a container of sliced onions and I stood by while Step pushed them around with the spatula. I pulled out some lettuce and tomatoes from the esky and began cutting them up on a plastic board on the preparation area beside the barbeque. I didn’t feel like talking.
‘I know it’s hard for you, buddy,’ he started.
I wanted to point out quite strongly that he was not my buddy, but I bit down on my bottom lip while he continued.
‘I want you to know that I love your mother very much. And that extends to you and Pippa and of course your little brother.’
He’d just launched into some heavy-duty, touchy-feely emotional stuff from out of the blue. It took me by surprise.
‘Yep,’ I said under my breath. ‘I might try the pool.’
I threw my t-shirt off, broke into a run and dive-bombed into the pool. My body sank like a stone, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees. Bubbles jetted out of my nose and mouth and I felt my feet touch the concrete floor. I gave a push and leapt up, arms straight, and burst into the air like a fountain. I saw Pippa approaching in her spotted swimmers and bright pink flippers. Mum and Ranger were setting up over at a table and Step was looking at me with a pathetic smile.
Pippa and I raced each other up and down the pool until the food was ready. She couldn’t beat me of course, but I let her win twice. She was doing a final victory lap of the pool when dinner was called. We all stayed at the recreation area until it closed at eight. Back at the tent, I discovered that we had power connected via a long cord and so Mum let me play with the laptop until she got Ranger to sleep.
First thing I did was get on Facebook and update my status again.
Been kidnapped by feral gypsies … I’m somewhere in the tropics. Mayday.
I had a couple of messages, 48 notifications. There were 19 friend requests. I chatted with some friends from school for a few minutes, which was an awesome tonic. They said my adventure sounded like fun. I told them to get stuffed. Seemed everyone was talking about the Beggsie baby now. It was all over the place. Kelly was thanking everyone for their support. Beggs had also written some posts – something about the future posing some big challenges and that he was up for them and would be there every step of the way for Kel. I sent a direct message to Beggsie and tried to keep it light. I congratulated him on his ‘news’ and said that if there was anything he needed, I was up for it.
I pulled up Katie’s profile and was heartened to see that she was still ‘single’. So they hadn’t got back together. The Bentley/Ford merger was no more. I seriously needed to get back to Brisbane and give that babe a shot at dating a real man. I would show Ms Ford a very good time! I was scrolling through the friend requests and confirming them even though I had no idea who the hell they were.
Jesse wasn’t online so I just left a hello on his wall. Looking at his shared photos made me realise how much I missed the big lug. He was a huge fellow. Over six foot tall and pudgy. He wielded a skateboard like a pro, despite the bulk. His hair was long and wavy blond and he had a classically good-looking face. Despite this, he was not a real hit with the ladies. They probably all found him a bit of a Neanderthal. Beggsie had been tied up in a relationship with Kelly for so long they were like an old married couple. More so now. It still freaked me out, this baby news. He usually saw Kelly on Friday nights but his Saturday Xbox nights with the crew were like a ritual and it was sad to think that he’d have to forego those when he became a dad. Night feeds and nappies. Better him than me!
Seeing all the familiar faces and the random stupid selfies that everyone had shared made me sad. I missed Brisbane and all the dorks I hung out with. And I actually missed school. Never thought I’d hear myself say that. I even missed some of the teachers and the principal with her bitchy backchat. We had a love-hate relationship. Yeah, I was missing Miss Jackson. Now, that was disturbing.
Mind you, even though Beggsie and Jesse and I were close, we didn’t open up too much about our private lives. I’d touched on Mum’s ‘episode’ but only to lighten it up and make out that it wasn’t as serious as everyone said it was – damage control. I didn’t want my mates to know how messed up she really was back then. I wasn’t embarrassed about it. Not at all. I lightened it up more out of respect for Mum. I didn’t want people talking about her behind her back saying she was nuts.
And although I probably should have, I never talked about Dad to the boys either. Jesse didn’t even know who his real dad was and was close to his stepdad. His stepdad, Steve, had been friends with my father and so he knew everything but he never talked about it or asked about it. Steve and Jesse had come and seen me in hospital but the stuff from the television, the stuff about Dad, that was something that they never raised with me. Boys, eh? We just bottled it up, I know. Girls, on the other hand, just never shut up about their feelings. I flicked back to Katie Ford’s profile. She looked like a hot little pixie girl with her heavily made-up eyes and her jet black hair …
‘Okay. Off you get, Hunter,’ Mum snapped, almost viciously. �
�I told you no Facebook and Dad’s …’ she stumbled over the word and corrected herself, ‘Brad’s got some uni study to do.’
‘Just a sec. Two minutes.’ I still had to say goodbye to a few mates. ‘There’s a heap of messages that I haven’t even read yet!’
‘Now,’ she said firmly.
‘Oh … alright.’
Just when life was feeling good again. I clicked out of my site and closed the lid of the laptop.
‘There’s plenty of light from the camp lantern if you want to read,’ she suggested.
I declined. Pippa wanted to look at her books. I wanted to sleep. I complained about the light but the truth was I felt a little bit safer with it on. It was irrational but I kind of felt the light might chase away the bad dreams. I knew it was stupid. Sixteen and I was acting like I was scared of the dark. I fell asleep with Katie Ford’s new profile pic in my head. She had been in a swimsuit – seriously – a swimsuit. And she had the most beautiful skin.
The next day Pippa and I walked down to the lake tucked down the lane from the caravan park. It was a big dark sheet of still water. Green hills framed the water and scrubby trees drooped over the edges across the other side. Pippa and I passed the café, perched up to the right, and made our way to the pebbly shore. We sat and watched canoes slicing through the water.
‘Let’s ask Mum if we can get a boat,’ I suggested.
‘Reckon there’s crocs?’
‘Nah,’ I shook my head. ‘It’s a lake. There’s no signs.’
Pippa and I spent the afternoon skimming the surface of the lake in a big yellow canoe. I was doing Mum a favour, giving her a break from Pippa’s relentless chatter. We had a paddle each but because I was stronger we tended to go around in circles. Out in the middle we let the boat drift and we hung over the edges and stared at our reflections. I half expected an Australian version of the Loch Ness Monster to appear. I started telling Pippa a story about a giant crocodile in a freshwater lake just like the one we sat in. I was deliberately freaking her out.
‘And he was twice as big as any crocodile the scientists had ever seen … and he was clever … he would stalk his prey …’
Pippa started whacking the oar into the water. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Look out! It’s coming right for us. Go!’ I screamed and fell back laughing as Pippa nearly wet her pants. ‘Just kidding.’
‘You pig!’ she yelled back and tried to hit me with her oar.
I ducked but she swung again. She turned a crimson shade. The paddle missed my ear and I jerked sideways and scrambled out of the way. In a slow motion, I can’t believe this, I fell backwards into the cold tea-coloured water.
Pippa just stood there panting, the offensive weapon in her hands. I spat a mouthful of water at her. She started laughing and then her eyes curled into a frown. She put a hand to her forehead and peered out across the lake.
‘Hunny! Swim. Hurry!’ She started pointing and held the oar out toward me. ‘Hurry. It’s a crocodile. Really. A big one!’
‘Whatever,’ I said casually, rolling my eyes. I didn’t believe her for a second.
‘I am not kidding. Quick it’s over there.’ She screamed and was pointing out behind me.
I didn’t want to risk hanging around in the water to find out she wasn’t lying so I started paddling like a two-legged dog. Frantically. My heart started banging like a jackhammer and I couldn’t breathe fast enough. Gulping and panting and trying not to swallow water, I surged forward and pulled myself back into the boat.
Pippa suddenly started laughing like a mad kookaburra. ‘Just kidding, Hunny,’ she giggled, pointing at my face. ‘Shoulda seen you go!’
I stared at her. The little brat had got me. She got me good. I smiled and nodded.
‘Good one, Pippa. You pranked me.’ I stood up and gave her a super-strength shove and she went flying. Splash! Straight into the water.
I then went one better and grabbed my paddle and quickly rowed back to shore. I could hear Pippa splashing and cursing behind me but I just laughed like the crazed villain of our own private comic strip. I knew Pippa was a really good swimmer and so I just sat on shore, digging a hole while I watched her breast-stroke all the way back.
‘You could swim the English Channel, Pippa. Good job,’ I commended her upon her return. She picked up two handfuls of sand and dumped them over my head.
‘Jerk!’
MOSSMAN
I woke up one morning to the sweet sound of Mum and Step having an argument. It rarely happened, but when it did it kind of validated my view that they were not a perfect match. If Mum was annoyed with Step it bonded her a little tighter to my cause.
‘I just think that Cairns is as far north as we need to go. Besides, we don’t have that much time left and I don’t want to rush it,’ Step groaned.
I could tell he was sick of driving. Mum didn’t like driving much so it was always him behind the wheel.
‘It’s all more of the same. Beaches, palm trees …’ he continued.
‘It’s only starting to get interesting. North of here is God’s country,’ Mum snapped back.
She didn’t do anything by half. When she got an idea in her head, she got obsessed. Mum wanted to go to the very top of Australia. She wanted to tackle the Cape. Mum was really tapping into her inner warrior woman and I think Step was just going along with it all to make her happy. His hippy act just seemed a bit forced, a bit fake. Deep down he was just a conservative playing dress-ups. I wondered if Mum could see that.
‘I don’t know if the Rangie’s up to the Cape,’ he complained. ‘We might need to get it serviced.’
‘So get it serviced,’ she sighed.
‘I’ve got two assignments due and I’m going to have to apply for an extension … I’m not getting enough work done and I need to find a library so I can print off some stuff. I need to stop soon and settle for a while or head back, otherwise I’m going to fail this semester and I’m only doing two units.’
‘So apply for an extension. We’ve come this far. I’m not turning back now.’
‘Well then, you drive for a while and let me drink in the scenery for a change. You don’t have a husband. You have a chauffeur!’
‘That’s not fair. You know I don’t like to drive. I’m not a confident driver …’
‘That’s your choice. Just because you …’
I crawled over and looked through the unzipped flap of nylon to see Mum standing with her hands on her hips, eyes blazing like a bushfire.
‘What Brad? Just because … what? Because I haven’t liked to drive since I saw bits of dead bodies flung about the road? Bodies I thought were my son? Because Hunter nearly died? Because I chose not to drive after that trauma?’
I felt that rollercoaster sick feeling in the bottom of my guts. I could mostly avoid thoughts about that day unless I was asleep. But every now and then, Mum went and blew it by leaping out of the cage and painting that picture again. Sometimes she definitely went too far. We all knew why she didn’t like driving anymore. She didn’t need to spell it out and paint a picture that was hard to get out of your head once she’d splattered it there.
The tent went silent. Pippa looked across at me from her mattress, her eyes still puffy with sleep, and threw me an uncomfortable smile. The equivalent of a hug. Mum looked across and saw that I was awake and listening.
‘I’m sorry, Hunter. I shouldn’t have said that. I was out of line.’
‘You got that right,’ Step muttered, almost to himself.
‘I’m not driving but we are going further north and that’s that,’ Mum said firmly.
Mum always had the final word and although we all argued with her sometimes, it was just for sport because she always got her own way. Always. I think that was what broke her up so badly when Dad left. It was the one and only thing that she was not in control of
. It was probably the only argument Dad ever won against her. And it was a biggie.
‘Coming all the way to North Queensland and not seeing the Daintree is like going to Egypt and ignoring the pyramids,’ she went on.
‘I want to see a crocodile,’ Pippa joined the conversation in a sleep-weary voice.
‘You will, darling. We will find you a real crocodile, won’t we, Brad?’ Mum glared at Step with a triumphant smirk that said Pippa wants to see a crocodile and you can’t break her little heart now, can you?
‘Fine, that’s fine,’ he crumbled like chalk. ‘I’m just stressed out about uni. Sorry. The Daintree it is. We’ll leave after lunch.’
Mum nodded and smiled, then leaned up to give Step a kiss on the cheek. He returned a smile as he left the tent with a towel over his shoulder and the key for the amenities block jangling from his hand. Mum gave a satisfied nod and a little snorting noise.
I was often in awe of his spinelessness. Mum was older than Step, and bossy to the point of being a dictator. She was definitely attractive for her age but she had no money, two kids, one of whom was a surly teen and the other needing a lot of attention. I was just saying she wasn’t an incredible catch like some childless, supermodel with millions in the bank. She was needy and teary and annoying and overbearing. I loved her despite all of that but I had to – I was her flesh and blood. I didn’t love her just because of that. I loved her because not only was she all those negative things, she was also gentle, funny and caring and I knew she loved me fiercely and would give her life to protect me. So yeah, maybe she was a good catch after all.
