He had heard that phrase, ‘completely alone’ just recently. Who else had spoken of being completely alone? Of course, it was that jackaroo, Tom, who had killed the sheep then joined the hunting party around the fire to tell his devastating story. He’d been alone, chased along that narrow track in the jungle by the young Viet Cong soldier. In the end he had refused to let the threat of death and the fear drive him on any farther. He had turned and charged back, meeting the danger with courage and audacity. And he had come through.
Suddenly Luke knew what to do. Then he was on his bike and pumping hard at the pedals. He didn’t want to allow himself the chance to reconsider, knowing that if he stopped to think it through his courage would crumble before the fear of what might happen.
His hard riding brought him quickly to his destination. He dropped his bike on the front lawn and marched straight up to the front door, knocking loudly when normally he would go inside barely announcing his arrival. Luke could feel vibrations through his feet as footsteps approached the door from inside the house, and then the door swung open.
After a pause, the figure in the doorway said, ‘I didn’t expect to see you for a while.’
‘I have to talk to you. There’s something I have to tell you,’ said Luke seriously.
‘Come in then,’ came the invitation and the pair made their way inside.
Luke dared not hesitate. He needed to spit out what he was holding inside before it melted away and became unreachable. ‘Last week I went hunting with my father,’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Alison Aldridge softly.
‘You know!’ gasped Luke.
Alison moved into the lounge room, where she flopped into the only comfortable chair. ‘Come and sit down,’ she said calmly, waving towards the sofa. ‘Luke, I’ve known you went out west with Wayne since before I came home from hospital.’
‘But how!’
‘From your grandparents, of course. I could always tell when your grandmother was lying. Unlike your father, she lies very poorly, especially when she’s been put up to it by her son. You’d think she would be used to it by now. She’s been covering up for Wayne now for an awfully long time. Poor thing. When you didn’t come to see me in hospital at all, didn’t even telephone me from your grandparents, I knew something was wrong. You are a better son than that, Luke. Each time I called she said you were out doing something or other — gone to the movies, gone skating — and each time I asked that you’d ring me when you returned. And of course no call came. Well, you can get away with that a few times but then the excuse starts to wear thin. I challenged her and she admitted that you were with your father. It didn’t need much guesswork from me to realise exactly where.’
‘Mum, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone.’
‘Too right you shouldn’t have gone,’ snapped Alison. ‘With a brainless bunch like your father and his mates you could have had your head blown off.’ She was warming up.
Luke felt his body become tense, his fingers curl into his hands, his feet press hard into the floor, and realised that he was bracing himself for the onslaught. But he hadn’t come home just to tell the truth and then have his mother berate him as a kind of punishment. He heard his own voice saying: ‘Mum, it can’t always be the way you want it to be. Give me a chance. Sure I went along, but it turned out differently from what I expected. Different from what you might think. I didn’t like what Dad was doing out there. It made me sick. Just like you said, he was carrying on like a kid. It was all wrong.’
This little speech took Alison by surprise. She had expected Luke to defend his presence on the hunting trip, but she had not expected him to criticise his father, to have seen in him the very qualities which she herself had come to despise.
As she was to discover, Luke’s new vision of his parents was not confined to his father.
‘But what about you?’ He turned on her. ‘You just want me to sit around, do my homework and be a bloody saint. And that’s not right either. You’re asking too much. I’m sorry about the gun and getting suspended. But it’s not the end of the world. And I shouldn’t have gone with Dad out west, yet if I hadn’t gone I wouldn’t have found out what it felt like to kill an animal. I wouldn’t know how bad it made me feel. And if I hadn’t gone along I would never have heard this bloke named Tom tell his story about being chased like a wild animal when he was in Vietnam. You’ve got to give me a chance to find out things for myself.’
Luke had never spoken to his mother like this, never argued with her, never challenged her. He was in new territory now and he simply didn’t know how she would react. In her face he had seen the anger building as he spoke but he detected uncertainty as well. Normally she would have cut him off, not allowing him to speak, but now she had let him go on, and she listened to every word. Luke thought he could see tears gathering behind his mother’s eyes. One last thought came bubbling into his mind. ‘I thought you’d understand. You made mistakes when you were young. You should know what it’s like.’
His final words sounded harsh and accusing but he hadn’t meant them to come out that way. Whatever his intent, it was too much for Alison, who had sat controlling her instinct to intervene, making herself listen to Luke’s words. Now she began to cry. The tears stole out from the corners of her eyes at first. She held her head back to try and stop them rolling down her cheeks, but the effort was in vain. Ashamed to let Luke see her cry, she leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. After a moment, a pitiful sob contorted her shoulders, then, as though this first sob had been holding back a deluge, she let slip her self-control and wept freely, as though she was releasing a great weight that had built inside her.
Stunned, Luke stood in the middle of the room feeling foolish and awkward, with not the slightest clue what to do next. His mother had never cried in front of him before, not like this. He wondered whether he should ring Belinda at work, or Sally, perhaps, to ask one of them to come over and comfort Alison. He didn’t think he had the words to comfort her himself. Her convulsions shook her whole body. It was as though she had broken open the seal which had been holding in all her unhappiness and now it was gushing out uncontrollably. Luke couldn’t look at her; he turned away, staring through the window into the street. But he could not shut out the sound as easily. He could flee the house, pick up his bike and get well away if he wanted to, but this scene held an unsettling familiarity for Luke. He recalled the shouts, the screaming, the distress when the terrified cat had attacked Alison … and he remembered how he had deserted his mother that day. But what could he do now? He had no words.
Luke forced himself away from the window, forced himself to watch his mother, whose sobs showed no sign of weakening. He came over to her chair and crouched beside it. Deliberately, as though he was directing the boom of a crane, Luke reached out his arm and gently grasped Alison’s wrist. She immediately seized his hand and squeezed it, holding it tightly so that he couldn’t take it away, so tightly that it hurt. But the sobs died away and Alison flopped her head back against the headrest of the chair. Her chest continued to heave powerfully but she was regaining control now. Her face was a mess, rivered with tears and showing red blotches where her fingers had pressed into the skin of her forehead and cheek.
After a few more minutes, during which time Alison loosened her grip on Luke’s hand enough to let the blood flow freely again, her breathing quietened and she was able to ask: ‘Why did you decide to tell me about the hunting trip?’
‘Because I want to tell someone about it. There was more to the trip than just hunting. Some of the things Dad did — and that I did, too … They were … I don’t know. Wrong maybe, or just cruel. It was killing just for the sake of killing. I somehow thought there was some purpose to killing pigs and rabbits and kangaroos, but for Dad and his mates it was just a pathetic game. I couldn’t get over how they treated the animals when they had a gun in their hands, as though they were less than dirt. CT wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell him. He only want
ed to hear about how many pigs I killed. Mum, you’re the only person I can think of who would understand what I’m talking about. I can hardly talk about it without you knowing about the trip. And anyway, I had enough on my conscience as it was.’
Alison looked up into her son’s face. Although he didn’t realise it, Luke could not have found better words to soothe her pain.
‘But if you already knew about the trip, why didn’t you jump on me straight away?’ he asked her.
‘Well, I intended to, I can assure you, but then I realised that we already had enough to fight about. And besides, I hadn’t made up my mind whether to apply to have your father’s access restricted.’
‘Are you going to do it?’ asked Luke carefully.
‘I’m within my rights to do it, Luke.’ She paused to look into her son’s face, then said softly: ‘But I was afraid, Luke. Afraid that if I did act, it would drive you closer to your father. It is true I don’t want you to grow up like him. When I look at you and see how closely you resemble him at the same age — I knew him when he was a young teenager, remember — well, I just tremble. But you’ve given me a good kick in the pants, Luke. You’ve made me understand that just because you look like him, that doesn’t mean you think the same way, that you’ll end up the same way. I’m sorry, Luke, I didn’t trust you enough.’
‘I suppose I didn’t give you much cause when I was suspended for having a gun at school.’
‘Well, that’s certainly true.’ Alison paused, taking Luke’s hand again. ‘Luke, what do you want me to do about the access?’
This was the first time Luke could remember his mother asking what he wanted in such a vital matter. And all he had in his mind to offer was confusion. ‘Mum, I just don’t know.’
Alison relaxed, easing back into her chair and letting Luke’s hand fall free. ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me about what happened on the trip out west,’ she said, and for the first time in weeks — or was it months — she really smiled at her son.
Luke told Alison about the hunting trip. He told her about his father’s skilful marksmanship, how he himself had deceived his father with the twenty-two (this made his mother smile despite herself), and his own exhilaration after killing that first rabbit. He told her about the second rabbit, and the cat, and the unfortunate roo, and finally he told her about the Vietnam veteran, Tom, and his simple, terrifying story, which had made the entire trip seem empty and pathetic.
It didn’t all tumble out at once from beginning to end; instead, tiny snippets would come to mind as mother and son dried the dishes together or pushed a trolley along the supermarket aisle.
Alison was recovering her strength quickly, and on Wednesday she suggested a morning at the very fun park where Luke had claimed so shamefully to have ridden the artificial ski slopes. It was here, as his mother stretched on the grass enjoying the early spring sunshine, that Luke told her how he had accidentally found himself in front of his father’s gun when the final blast was pumped into the kangaroo. Her response surprised Luke, who had expected an eruption. She was clearly horrified, but held her tongue to listen to Luke’s description of the fear and loathing the incident had triggered within him. With this she seemed satisfied, saying calmly, almost with resignation: ‘Something like that always seems to happen when your father and his mates gang together. He’d have brought you home with half your head missing for me to bury, no doubt. I sometimes wonder whether even a tragedy like that would jolt him into the real world, make him look at himself, think of something separate from himself.’
This was not the only surprise Alison produced for Luke that day. The only exit from the fun park took patrons through the souvenir and gift shop, and there, prominently displayed, were sweat shirts of all the local football teams. Luke barely noticed them — he’d almost passed through the turnstiles when Alison called him back.
‘Luke, isn’t this the sweat shirt you’ve been after all winter?’
Luke nodded, still standing near the door leading into the carpark.
‘Come here,’ she said and by the time he reached her she had a sweat shirt in each hand and began holding them up against her son. ‘The bigger size, I think, seeing as how you show no signs of getting any smaller.’
A typical Alison Aldridge remark, thought Luke, but delivered with more humour than he was used to. His mother had already marched off to the counter before he realised what was happening.
‘Hey, Mum, wait!’ he called.
Alison turned towards him. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s just that…’ Luke paused. Of course he had been about to say that his father was going to buy him the same sweat shirt. But at that moment he saw the delight in his mother’s face at what she was doing, and he tasted again the sour disappointment he had felt when his father had reneged on his promise.
‘I’m sorry, Luke,’ said Alison seriously. ‘I should have asked you properly.’
She’d misunderstood his hesitation, Luke realised. She imagined that he was defending his dignity, his right to be consulted. ‘Do you want this?’ she asked formally, displaying impish good humour in her voice at the same time.
Damn my father, thought Luke. He smiled at his mother and said simply: ‘Yes, Mum. Thanks.’
THIRTEEN
The few hours in the sun at the fun park had tired Alison more than she realised and by eight o’clock she was asleep, leaving Luke, in his new sweat shirt, to watch TV with Sally. When the phone rang, Luke let Sally answer it — it was more than likely one of her boyfriends — so he was startled when Sally held the phone towards him, saying, ‘It’s a man named Kieran; wants to talk to you.’
He knew only one Kieran. Sure enough, when he took the phone, Kieran Doggitt’s voice greeted him.
‘Hi, Luke. Look, er … I was wondering if you knew about your Dad’s piece of bad luck?’
What was Doggy talking about? ‘Sorry, Kieran, I don’t understand,’ confessed Luke.
‘Oh, you haven’t heard from him then.’ Kieran was obviously disappointed with Luke’s reply and hesitated now before explaining himself. Clearly he must have been hoping that whatever this news was, it would have reached Luke and Alison by now, relieving him of the need to tell them about it. Now he sounded reluctant to carry out the task he’d set himself. ‘Your father’s in a bit of a spot, Luke. You see, we all went to the footy on Saturday as usual, but on the way home he was stopped by the police near the cricket ground. They didn’t put their trap in the usual place, the tricky devils, and your Dad’s short-cut didn’t bypass them like it normally does. He had to blow in the little gadget and of course he was over the limit. So he’s lost his licence and he has to pay a big fine — hundreds of dollars. Poor bloke.’
So my Dad’s luck has finally run out, thought Luke, remembering his father’s triumphant contempt as he had beaten the police last week. Well, he couldn’t say that Danielle and the others, even Doggy himself, hadn’t given him fair warning. But Luke felt puzzled. Spreading the news of this disaster was hardly Kieran Doggitt’s business. There must be more to Doggy’s message than the bald facts of Wayne’s downfall. When the normally shy Doggy lingered on the phone, not wanting to end the call, Luke knew that he was right.
Doggy went on: ‘I just thought you should know, Luke. You see, I was with your Dad last night and he was very upset. A couple of other things haven’t gone too well for him this week, so he was having a few drinks to drown his sorrows over at Jacko’s place. He kept talking about how the hunting trip hadn’t gone right for the two of you. He said you hardly talked in the car all the way back to the city and he was afraid that you’d tell your Mum about it all and she would stop him from taking you out on weekends. He was getting himself good and mad.’
With this, Kieran felt he had intruded enough; the responsibility he had taken upon himself was met. ‘I just thought you should know about this, Luke. About how much your Dad cares about seeing you and how unhappy he is at the moment.’
‘Thanks,
Doggy. I’m glad you called to tell me,’ Luke said as he hung up — though he doubted that he was glad at all. It raised a complication, another worry, just when he thought he could relax.
He left the television to Sally and took himself off to bed where he lay for some time, crushed between the anger towards his father which still pressed down on him and sympathy for his father’s new predicament that pushed its way up from his heart in spite of everything. His last thought before falling asleep was for Kieran Doggitt, a quiet hero, a shy man who said little but who had cared enough to make that call. Later, Luke would realise that Kieran was worried, very worried, and his call had been meant as a warning.
Alison slept late on Thursday morning, rising only in time for her doctor’s appointment at eleven. It was after two when she returned with a much lighter bandage on her arm and a confident story of recovery. She’d celebrated by having her hair cut. It was his mother’s carefree joy which kept Luke from telling her about last night’s phone call. He was afraid the news would shatter Alison’s fragile sense of well-being and ruin the day for himself into the bargain: for he had come to notice how much he took his mood from her. This was their house together now, shared as it had never been before, and mention of his father seemed only to throw a shadow over their home.
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