Sandy Feet

by Nikki Buick

  ‘I did, Hunter,’ he started. ‘At first I believed your mum. I believed what she said about him, that your dad was this big bad wolf. A murderer. A drunk …’

  ‘My dad is not a murderer or a drunk. It was a low-range reading and an accident and how dare you not tell me that about Mum, why she did what she did. I thought it might have been my fault. And you have no right to decide anything about my dad. Who did you think you were? Some goddamn gatekeeper to my life, my parents? You’d known us all for about five fuckin’ minutes!’ I was shaking.

  ‘Don’t swear in front of Ranger,’ he said under his breath.

  ‘Don’t lie in front of Ranger! He can’t understand a word anyway.’

  ‘I’m just really worried about Pippa now, Hunter,’ Step sniffed, trying to divert the conversation. ‘I don’t want to …’ He sounded so tired but I didn’t care.

  I went on. ‘I missed out on three years of my life with my dad and so did Pip,’ I yelled. ‘He missed out. I could have seen him every weekend. I could have sent him letters and photos. Told him things about my life, my school, my mates. That’s three years we’ll never have back!’

  ‘I know … I’m sorry, Hunter,’ he whispered and shut his eyes. I stared at him, sitting there, hunched into the motel chair.

  ‘I’m ashamed right now, Hunter.’

  I glared back at him. ‘You should be!’ I yelled. I didn’t want to hear about his shame. I wanted an apology. A really big, blubbering apology.

  I went to the single bed and sat down and began to doodle in the back page of my journal. I drew dark pencil sketches of demons with gaping jaws and cascades of blood trickling over vein-engorged necks. Step and his try-hard apology really started to make my blood boil again.

  He had a pizza delivered, my favourite – meatlovers. But I ignored the wafting temptation of molten cheese and just flicked on the remote control and watched an old horror movie on the satellite channel. Ranger gummed at a slice of pizza until it was all over his face. His little rabbit teeth just pecked away at the thick base like a chicken beak. The frustration of watching them eat grew too great and I sulked over and tore a piece off. It was good.

  ‘Time for bed, Rangy,’ Step said, with a loaded look my way. ‘It’s been a big day.’

  I snorted sarcastically. A big day. What a total understatement.

  ‘We’ll say a prayer for Pippa first, hey?’ Step pressed Ranger’s sticky paws together and shut his eyes.

  ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ I mumbled under my breath and turned up the volume on the television to hear the chainsaws, rearing up to slaughter the next victim. ‘He’s a baby.’

  ‘Turn that off … please.’ Step opened his eyes.

  I stared at him real hard. I wanted to turn it up full blast but wasn’t in any mood to ramp this up into a full-scale war. I didn’t have the energy. I flicked off the television, slurped down the last of my Coke and lay down on my single bed and rolled away from them.

  ‘Dear God, we pray for Pippa and hope she makes a full recovery tonight and that she’s back with us real soon. Amen,’ said Step softly.

  Does God listen to two-faced liars, I wondered? My brain didn’t wait for an answer, switching straight off into a deep sleep.

  The next morning, sunlight crept through the vertical blinds, bathing the room in a striped glow. I used the bathroom and let the hot shower wake me up. Back in the room I looked at Step sleeping, his mouth was wide open and a deep snore was echoing up from his throat. Ranger lay next to him playing a nasal duet. The room was decorated in pastel shades – pinks and pale greens. Mum would have liked it. A sick swell rose in my stomach as I remembered that Pippa was hooked up to tubes in the hospital.

  I’d slept so deeply I was worried we’d missed a call from Mum. I picked up the mobile phone and checked for missed calls. Just one from the Prize Home people. They sure were desperate to sell tickets. What kind of salesperson would ring at 6.10am? They were worse than the telemarketers I’ve heard Pop complain about. The fact that Mum hadn’t called was a good sign, I figured. And then I began to worry that it wasn’t. Would she ring if Pippa took a turn for the worse or would she be unable to leave her side?

  I looked at the number for the Prize Home mob. It looked like a mobile number. I decided to ring it. I could tell them to stop calling and put an end to Mum’s obsessive compulsive need to ignore the calls. I’d be doing her a huge favour. It rang and rang and then clicked to a message. I nearly dropped the phone …

  It was Dad’s voice. He asked the caller to leave a message. There was a beep and I swallowed, my mouth dry, and then hung up. My heart was hammering. I looked at the number and planted it firmly in my memory. That was the ultimate betrayal. I never thought I could hate my mother but in that moment, I really did.

  Things were going to change. I was going back to Brisbane even if I had to hitchhike to get there. I wanted to see my father – as soon as possible. He’d been ringing this whole time, presumably to organise to see Pippa and me and Mum had bummed him off. She’d stolen us away on some hide-and-seek adventure so he couldn’t find us. I wanted to call back and leave a message for Dad. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for not writing or visiting. I wanted to tell him that I loved him and that Pippa and I needed him. Pippa rather urgently.

  It was nearly eight and the sick feeling in my guts was begging for food. I was hungry. I picked at the crust and the bits of pizza that were still stuck to the box. I was just about to turn on the television when an alarm clock went off on the phone and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  Step stirred and then sat up sharply. ‘Who was that on the phone? What time is it?’

  ‘It’s an alarm. And it’s almost eight o’clock. But the Prize Home people rang again.’

  ‘Did you answer it?’ he asked, frowning.

  ‘Yeah and I bought a thousand dollars’ worth of tickets on your credit card,’ I said with a forced smile.

  He gave me the strangest look and then nodded, realising I was joking.

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘That’ll be Barney.’ Step struggled off the bed, flattening his crazy mop of hair. ‘I rang last night and asked them to take you and Ranger out for the morning while Mum and I are at the hospital.’

  I kept quiet. I didn’t want to speak to Step or Mum ever again, if I could help it. I was seething. Dad had been ringing constantly through the whole trip. Probably wanting to know where we were and when he could see Pippa and me. Probably wanting to talk to us.

  Sophie and Barney stood there looking like startled deer.

  ‘Thanks so much for coming, Barney,’ Step called out as I stood back and let them come in.

  ‘Hey there.’ Sophie gave me a nod. She had her hair all pulled back into a ponytail and it made her look older. More sophisticated.

  ‘How’s your little girl?’ Barney asked.

  It’s not his little girl, I wanted to say. He stole her.

  ‘I’m just about to ring the hospital,’ Step said, fiddling with the mobile. He was frowning and I wondered if he could see that I’d made an outcall to the frickin’ imaginary Prize Home people.

  Ranger woke and rubbed his little eyes. He smelled bad. ‘Can you change him?’ Step mouthed to me, motioning toward the packet of disposable nappies.

  Was he mad? I’d seen Mum do it a thousand times but hell would freeze over before you’d catch me anywhere near Ranger’s dirty bum.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Sophie smiled and went for a clean nappy. ‘I’ve got two little cousins … it’s no big deal.’

  I watched in awe as Sophie handled the bottom disaster like a true professional. She was swift and graceful and quick.

  Step was on the phone asking for Mum. When he got her, his side of the conversation was all yeps, no’s, ohs, goods and really so it was hard to guess what the situation was. When he got off he gave a big si
gh. ‘Well, she’s conscious and asking for bacon and eggs so it all sounds good. Still got a headache and her blood pressure’s still high but they say she may be out in less than a week.’ Step sat on the end of the bed and put his head in his hands, breathing deeply. ‘Thank God,’ he mumbled.

  A great sense of relief flooded me. Pippa was going to be alright. I couldn’t wait to see her and talk to her. Give her the Dad update.

  ‘That’s good news,’ Barney agreed. ‘I’ll take the kids into town for some McDonalds and then to Trinity Beach. It’s about 25 minutes north from here on the coast. Easy to find.’

  ‘I’ve got your number, Barney,’ Step said, standing up and giving Barney’s hand a shake. ‘I reckon I’ll come up there about lunchtime. Trinity Beach you say?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Step made noises of great appreciation as he hurried us out the door.

  ‘It’s good that Pippa’s gonna be alright,’ Sophie said as we drove through the streets of Cairns. I nodded, watching the passing scenery. Hibiscus trees, dotted with brilliant red flowers, were everywhere. Ranger looked confused and quiet in the car seat we’d pulled out of the back of the Range Rover. He must have wondered what was going on and where his parents had disappeared to. I knew how he felt. Reaching across Sophie’s lap, I gave Ranger’s hand a little squeeze.

  ‘Hunny’s here.’ I gave him a smile.

  ‘You’re so sweet.’ Sophie grinned, ever so slightly sarcastically.

  ‘And you’re pretty handy with a crappy nappy too,’ I lobbed right back at her.

  Her hand slipped between my knees and gave a gentle squeeze.

  We had a good feed of hash browns and pancakes down at the ‘Golden Arches’ and sat staring at the Cairns locals walking past the windows. Everyone was so laid-back and tanned. Cairns was a nice city – clean and green. Parts of Brisbane were pretty too. Southbank. The Botanical Gardens. I was really beginning to get homesick. I was craving my own little space. My Xbox. My mates. The idiotic teachers at school. Even the routine of school. I missed Facebook, and my own laptop and my dad. I hoped this horrible drama with Pippa would be enough to make those fools see that it was time to go home. Their dirty secret was out now so Mum could stop running away and learn to face her demons. I was 16, and I had learned how to start facing mine.

  Trinity Beach was fringed with curved palm trees. Nothing special. They were all starting to look the same. I was obviously becoming jaded by the overdose of natural beauty. Give me littered streets and graffitied walls any day!

  I watched young backpackers wrestle each other on the sand, hooting with unintelligible foreign voices and wondered how Jacques and his girlfriend were going with their fruit-picking. A fat old woman lay on a leopard-skin towel while her leathery husband lathered suntan cooking oil all over her. Mum would have freaked out at the blatant sunburning routine. She probably would have given them a lecture and a free tube of sunblock. The woman looked seriously like a burnt Christmas turkey.

  The beach was patrolled by lifesavers and safe to swim in but, after the recent scare, I was happy to stay out of the water and there was no way I was letting Ranger near it. Sophie was quieter than usual. I figured the Pippa incident had knocked the wind out of her as well. I caught her eye a few times as we let Ranger build a sandcastle. There was weird avoidance there. When she saw me looking at her, she looked away. I started thinking that the kiss the previous day had made things all weird between us. I got the distinct impression that she was regretting it. There was none of the warmth that had been there then. Now there was just a whole lot of discomfort and taut embarrassment.

  ‘Hunter,’ Barney called out, coming over to us. ‘Walk with me.’

  Sophie gave a cryptic nod and busied herself with Ranger, bouncing him on her lap. I stood up and dusted the sand off my shorts. They seemed to be in on something, Barney and Sophie. I was scared he was going to give me a good dressing-down for fooling around with his daughter.

  I walked beside the big, hairy man. The two of us kicking sand alongside the water, heading north.

  ‘I spoke with your folks last night,’ Barney started and my heart sank.

  This was a set up. Mum had grafted Barney to her cause and he’d been sent like a messenger to smooth things over with me.

  ‘I don’t want to hear what Mum …’ I started.

  ‘Don’t tell me what you do and don’t want to hear, boy.’

  I stopped and looked at Barney’s wild eyes. He was no nonsense and I swallowed hard. I guess I was going to listen to what he said after all.

  ‘Your mother loves you. You respect that.’

  ‘I know … but …’ I interrupted.

  ‘You listen up. I’m doing the talkin’. She’s done the wrong thing,’ he went on. ‘She knows that. A boy needs his father. So long as his father’s a good bloke and most blokes are good. Even the ones that are rough around the edges.’

  The land up to the rocky crest rose above the water to the north.

  ‘But parents aren’t perfect. You buggers don’t get born with instructions, y’know?’

  Mum had said pretty much the same thing once upon a time.

  ‘She shouldn’t have stopped you from seeing your dad in prison. Sure, it’s a dangerous place, eh? But so is the beach, eh? And the road. Everywhere is dangerous. Life’s dangerous.’

  I guess he made sense. It was stupid of me to expect Mum to be perfect. She was only human and she had been badly hurt. And she was not always strong enough to cope. She needed some extra support sometimes.

  ‘I just wanted you to know that your mum’s not perfect. Your dad’s not perfect. Your stepdad’s not perfect …’

  He was articulating my exact sentiments.

  ‘None of them are perfect but they all love you. All of ’em. You gotta remember that. And you’re not perfect either, Hunter.’

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew Mum loved me but I also knew that Mum had used me like a weapon against Dad. That was an epic fail. I had been a bullet in the gun of their divorce. Step, I think, saw Pippa and me as some war spoils. Trophies that he’d won. For all I knew, Dad hadn’t really cared either. He gave up on Pippa pretty quickly. He could have written to me. Oh, that’s right, he had. But Mum had thrown it away. Every way I looked at it, she was still in the wrong.

  ‘When you’re older and you have children of your own …’ Barney began to say and at that point I completely zoned out.

  Back with Sophie, I painted more sunblock on Ranger’s nose and cheeks, and splashed a bit on my own arms, while Barney went off to buy some fish and chips.

  ‘Geez, your dad’s a bit intense,’ I said.

  She laughed. ‘You have no idea … I have to live with him. I think he would have made a good school principal or a policeman … what do you reckon?’ Sophie shook her ponytail out and wiped some sand off her forehead. She really was very pretty.

  I leaned forward and kissed her, just to gauge her reaction. She was more hesitant than she had been the day before.

  ‘Not here,’ she mumbled.

  Girls – hot one minute and tepid to cool the next. Who could fathom them?

  ‘Is everything okay? Was yesterday just a mistake or what?’ I asked.

  ‘Let’s just pull back and be mates, hey?’ she shrugged. ‘We live too far apart and there’s no point starting something …’

  I nodded, pretending to agree but deep inside I felt a bit disappointed, a little bit hurt. But life was short and there was always tomorrow and the next day and the next. And there was always Katie Ford.

  ‘What do you want to do when you leave school?’ I asked, just for something to say.

  She didn’t even have to think about it. ‘A nurse I reckon. Like Mum. And you?’

  ‘Don’t know.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m still figuring out who the hell I am now …’

  Barney gave us fish and
chips and sat further back under the shade with a can of soft drink. The grim supervisor. We ate until our bellies were bloated. Sophie and I had dug a hole for Ranger to sit in so he didn’t fall over and he kept dipping his chips in the sand and then eating with this awful grating noise that made my skin crawl. Seagulls hovered above us like enemy aircraft, screeching like air-raid sirens. Sophie threw a chip and they came diving down like kamikaze pilots, slamming into the sand. Frenzied little buggers. We gave Ranger some to throw and he pegged them at the birds and screamed and clapped his hands as they danced around him, although he screamed in fright when one cheeky bird swooped into his lap.

  ‘Dad’s out of jail,’ I said to Sophie, without looking at her.

  ‘I know.’

  Mum had clearly told Barney, who had told Sophie. Were they all feeling sorry for me or something? All talking behind my back? I’d spent so long keeping secrets bottled up inside that it was suddenly uncomfortable for everything to be out in the open. I said nothing more to Sophie about it. There was nothing more to say.

  ‘Your folks told Dad that you guys are going to drive straight home after Pippa gets out of hospital.’

  That was news to me, but good news. ‘Thank God!’

  ‘Means we won’t see each other again,’ Sophie said, tracing a pattern in the sand.

  I wanted to disagree with her but I couldn’t.

  ‘You might come down to Brisbane one day,’ I suggested.

  ‘Not likely.’

  I wondered if Mum had actually written anything on this trip. I’d recorded so much in my journal that it would fill a book. When I’d re-read it, I thought some of it was pretty good. Maybe I could be a writer like Mum.

  ‘I might be a writer when I leave school,’ I said.

  ‘You do know a lot of good words. I like the way you talk.’ Sophie smiled.

  Hunter S Thompson eat your heart out. I could write about my own psychotic road trip. Hunter S James.

  Just as Ranger began to get grizzly and irritable, and I began to wonder if we hadn’t been abandoned, I heard a loud honk of a horn that I recognised as the daggy old Range Rover. Like a dog, Ranger seemed to recognise it as well.