Give Me Four Reasons

by Lizzie Wilcock

  ‘Nice moves, surfer girl. Where’s your board?’

  ‘My board? Um … it’s in getting fixed.’

  ‘What happened to it?’

  ‘A shark took a bite out of it when I was on holiday,’ I say. As soon as the words are out, I regret them.

  ‘No way!’ Miff says.

  ‘A shark?’ cries the little boy. He clings to Miff.

  ‘This is my bratty brother, Bradley,’ Miff says, rolling her eyes. But she picks him up and cuddles him and reassures him there’s no shark nearby.

  ‘So tell me about this shark,’ Miff whispers.

  The details are clear. I read this just this morning in Cindy magazine. ‘It was only a small one—a juvenile tiger shark about three metres long—but it came up under me while I was out the back waiting for a set and latched onto my board. I was lucky it wasn’t my leg. I jumped off and starting swimming to shore, hoping that it wasn’t coming after me.’

  ‘And did it?’ Miff’s black eyes are wide with wonder.

  ‘No. It swam off, taking a chunk of my board with it.’

  ‘I didn’t hear about this on the news,’ Miff says, shaking her head in awe.

  ‘Oh … it was when we were on holidays. Up north. There was no mobile phone reception or anything. We didn’t bother reporting it.’

  ‘Jeez, Paige. And you just get back in the water as though nothing has happened. I would have needed counselling for months.’

  I suddenly realise how enormous this lie is. Why didn’t I just say that my board fell over in the garage and a fin snapped off? Or that it fell off the roof rack of the car?

  Or that I don’t even have a surfboard.

  But Miff is looking at me as if I am someone interesting. If we were leaving school right now, I bet she would write about the shark attack in my Passport. You are so brave, Paige. Best buds forever!

  ‘Don’t mention this to anyone,’I tell her. ‘It kind of still freaks me out a bit. I’d rather not talk about it.’

  ‘Sure.’ Miff reaches out and pats my arm. It’s like we have a secret.

  I realise that I like having a secret with one of the most popular girls at school. Even if it is a total lie.

  I look up and see Mum at the cafe. She is talking to the waiter. Maybe she’s bored and getting the bill. ‘I’d better go,’ I say to Miff. ‘See you on Monday.’ I grab my towel and run back up the beach.

  But Mum is not getting the bill. The man I thought was a waiter sits down and joins her at the table. It is Reuben from the psychic fair. Once again, I’m reminded of Bloodstone Beach. It seems like a haven now. A place where I didn’t have to choose between new friends and old friends, or tell fibs to impress people. A place where I could keep Dad and his new girlfriend on top of a mountain.

  ‘Hi, Reuben,’I say. ‘Have you seen Shelly? How’s she doing?’

  ‘I don’t live at Bloodstone Beach, Paige,’ Reuben says. ‘I live here in Juniper Bay.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say. I’m disappointed. It would have been nice to hear some news from Shelly. I’ve sent her a couple of emails and text messages since I got home, and she’s replied a few times, but it’s not the same as when we used to meet up every day.

  ‘Would you like some hot chips, love?’ Mum asks me.

  Normally I love hot chips after swimming, but for some reason I don’t feel hungry right now. ‘I’ll just have a salad sandwich, thanks,’ I say.

  At one o’clock Felicity and I are waiting in the lounge room with our overnight bags. It seems too weird to be going to ‘Dad’s place’. Dad’s place should be here with us.

  ‘Tonight will be great,’ Felicity says. ‘Dad can’t cook, so we’ll go out for dinner. I’m going to suggest that new Thai place that opened downtown. I’ll be able to wear my red dress.’

  I wonder how my sister can even think about clothes.

  ‘I can’t wait to meet Chloe,’ Felicity continues. ‘Dad keeps saying that she’s absolutely gorgeous!’

  I don’t want to meet Chloe. I don’t care how gorgeous she is. Mum’s gorgeous. I jump off the lounge and go to wait in my room.

  At one-thirty the phone rings and I run out to the kitchen to answer it.

  It’s Dad. ‘Hi, Poss,’ he says.

  Right away I can tell that our weekend has been cancelled.

  ‘I won’t be able to have you girls tonight,’ Dad says. ‘I have to work all afternoon …’ He continues talking about dead people and the freezer at Horton’s Funeral Parlour being on the blink, but I am not listening. All I hear is Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. He’s making up excuses so he can spend his time with Chloe. Why would he want to spend time with me and Felicity when he has her?

  Mum grabs the phone off me and hisses into it, ‘You don’t need to take things out on the girls.’ Then she walks down to the spare room and slams the door behind her.

  Felicity shakes her head. ‘Cancelled?’

  I nod.

  ‘Mum needs a new crystal ball,’ Felicity says. She takes her phone out of her pocket and begins texting. A minute later it beeps and she reads the reply. She sends a text back, then jumps up and heads towards her bedroom. ‘I’m going over to Jo’s house.’

  I wish I had a Jo. I used to have Elfi and Rochelle. I’ve still got Jed, I think, but he plays cricket on Saturdays.

  Mum comes out of the spare room and puts the phone back on its cradle. Her face is red. I guess she gave Dad a good talking-to.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. I didn’t really want to go anyway,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to leave you all alone.’

  ‘I’m fine, Paige. I’m a big girl. I actually had plans of my own for this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Felicity comes out of her room. ‘Is it okay if I go over to Jo’s this arvo?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll drive you,’ says Mum. Then she turns to me. ‘Perhaps you could go to Elfi’s or Rochelle’s?’ she suggests.

  ‘No, I’ll just stay here with you.’

  ‘But I’m going out, darling. I just told you that.’

  ‘Um … I … I guess I could hang out down at the mall. Some of the kids from school will be there. And I could spend the gift card Dad gave me.’

  ‘Great,’ Mum says. ‘You can get the bus back.’

  I can’t believe it. The mall is quite a long way across town, and Mum has never let me go there on my own before. I guess she doesn’t want me moping around now that Dad has let me down.

  I race back to my bedroom to get ready. Maybe this change of plans is not so bad. Cindy says that a trip to the mall is about more than shopping. Apparently, the mall is the place to hang out.

  Cindy has taught me a lot of things. How to look cool, how to think cool, how to buy cool, how to act cool and how to live cool. Before now I didn’t realise how much I’d been doing wrong.

  For example, Cindy says that, even if you just want a ‘natural’ summer look, you shouldn’t leave the house without wearing nail polish, bronzer, lip gloss, eyeliner, mascara, perfume, hair-smoothing serum and a fake tan. Lucky for me, I spent the summer at the beach, so my gift card can be spent on the first seven items, plus clothes.

  I really need some new clothes. Since I got back from Bloodstone Beach, all my old dresses hang on me like Mum’s flowing hippy skirts. The only shorts and skirts that stay up are the ones with elasticised waists. But Cindy says that elastic waists are a definite no-no. So I’ve got nothing decent to wear to the mall. What if some kids from school are there? Sidney and Miff would dump me instantly if they saw me in any of these baby clothes.

  I decide I’ll have to just run into the nearest shop and buy something, and then get changed in the toilets. I pull on some old shorts and a t-shirt. Then I go into the bathroom and turn my attention to the rest of my appearance. My hair has dried all wavy and blonde from the sea water. I scrunch it up with some of Felicity’s hair goop to make it even messier. I look like a total surf chick.

  Now for my face. I open Felicity’s make-up drawer. It looks like last year’s penc
il case. There are pencils, sharpeners, goo sticks, paint brushes, paint pots, and palettes of powders. I grab some mascara and lip gloss and get to work. When I’m finished I stand back to admire my work. It’s not too bad.

  ‘Hurry up, Paige,’ Mum and Fliss call.

  I grab my gift card and stuff it in my purse. Felicity is already sitting in the front passenger seat of the car and Mum is busy spraying water on the windscreen and wiping seagull poo off it. I open the back door of the hearse on Mum’s side and slide into the seat. Neither Mum or Felicity notices my made-up face, or even looks at me.

  ‘Just drop me at the corner, Mum,’ I tell her as we approach the mall. For the first time I am embarrassed about our car. No one else drives around in a hearse.

  ‘Bye, love,’ Mum says, watching the traffic in her side mirror. I step out of the car. No one gives me a second glance.

  20

  As soon as I get to the mall, I spot a department store selling all sorts of make-up at knock-down prices, so I grab myself a selection. Then I go straight into a shop called The Wave. Inside, I spend more than half the value of Dad’s gift card on a denim miniskirt, a wide leather belt, a cool beaded necklace, a funky handbag, a pair of thongs and three tops in the brands recommended by Cindy. As soon as I’ve paid, I run to the toilets and change.

  As I walk out of the toilets, I almost walk straight past Sidney. She is alone and idly rifling through a clothing rack out the front of a shop called Hot Stuff. I hardly recognise her. Perhaps it’s because she is not wearing her famous bedazzling smile.

  ‘Hi, Sidney,’ I say. She jumps when I tap her shoulder. Last year I would not have dared to approach any of the popular girls outside of school. But now, according to Elfi and Rochelle, I’m one of them.

  ‘Hey, Paige.’ Sidney smiles and her face lights up. ‘You look gorgeous. I love the skirt. And your make-up looks great.’

  I smile back. ‘Um, thanks … I was in a bit of a rush and all my stuff is dried up and clumpy.’ I swipe at the clumps of mascara I can feel on my lashes.

  Sidney reaches out and delicately pulls off a black glob from the lashes of my right eye. ‘I thought you’d be out surfing. It’s so hot today,’ she says.

  ‘I had a surf this morning. The waves were pumping.’ That’s one of Jack’s expressions. ‘Hey, I thought you’d be out sailing.’ Sidney’s parents have a boat and they sail almost every weekend.

  ‘I will be. I’m just filling in time while Dad gets the yacht ready.’

  ‘What club does your dad belong to?’I ask, trying to sound as though I’m familiar with the yachting world.

  ‘My dad likes to sail at all different places,’ Sidney says vaguely. She moves on to the next rack of clothes. Suddenly she pulls a mobile phone from the pocket of her shorts. I had not even heard it ring.

  ‘This is him now.’ Sidney presses a button on the phone then speaks loudly. ‘Hi, Dad. Is the yacht good to go?’ Silence. ‘Do you want me to pick up any snacks?’ Silence. ‘Olives, camembert cheese, water crackers, caviar. Anything else?’ Silence. ‘Okay, I’ll see you soon.’

  Sidney makes a big show of pressing the red button to end the call. It reminds me of the pretend phone calls I had with Dad on the hill overlooking Bloodstone Beach. Conversations I made up so that Shelly wouldn’t know the truth about my father.

  ‘I hate caviar,’ I say, although I don’t really know what it is.

  ‘So do I,’ Sidney says, ‘but Mum loves it. So what have you bought?’ She eyes my shopping bags.

  ‘Oh, nothing much.’ I hide the bags behind my back. I can’t let her see the daggy clothes I wore here. ‘Just some new t-shirts, and some bronzer, mascara, eyeliner, lip gloss. I’ve run out of absolutely everything!’

  ‘All at the same time?’ Sidney asks.

  ‘Yeah,’ I giggle nervously. ‘Funny how that happens.’

  ‘Hey, show me where you got that make-up. I need a few things, too.’

  The cluttered bargain table at the department store where I got my make-up is out the front of the shop. I direct Sidney past it and up to the expensive name brands at the back. ‘What do you need?’ I ask her.

  ‘Some lip gloss with sun block in it,’ she says. ‘The weather out on the yacht really dries my lips out.’ Sidney chooses a coral gloss with SPF 30 in it. Then she looks in her wallet. ‘I’ve only got enough money for the caviar and stuff,’ she says. ‘My parents control all my earnings.’ She replaces the lip gloss on the shelf.

  ‘Let me get it for you, Sidney,’ I offer.

  ‘You don’t have to do that, Paige.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I insist. I hand the money and the lip gloss to the saleswoman. ‘My treat.’

  The saleswoman hands me a receipt and a paper bag containing the lip gloss. I give the bag to Sidney.

  ‘But we barely know each other,’ Sidney says, pushing the bag back into my hands.

  ‘It’s not an engagement ring,’ I say.

  Sidney laughs.

  ‘But you could consider it a friendship ring.’

  Sidney blinks her spidery lashes as she considers my gift. Her eyes mist over. She takes the lip gloss from me then hugs me. ‘I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Just invite me to come on your yacht one day.’

  Sidney freezes. It’s the worst thing I could have said. She must be sick of people trying to buy their way into her glamorous life.

  ‘No, no,’ I quickly say. ‘I can go sailing anytime.’

  ‘I will pay you back, Paige,’ Sidney assures me. ‘In some way.’

  Just be my friend. Let me keep hanging out with your group, I want to say. ‘Well,’ she says. ‘I’d better get home now, ready for my afternoon sail on the bay.’

  We say goodbye at the front exit of the mall, across from the bus stop. I stand waiting for the pedestrian light to change and watch as Sidney is swallowed up by the large fancy new homes across from the mall. Only when the little green man starts to beep does it occur to me that she forgot to do her parents’ shopping.

  Mum is humming when I get home. It certainly makes a change from ohming. She is in the kitchen. Her long hair is pulled back in a bun, but grey wisps escape at the sides. She has a wooden spoon in one hand and a spice jar in the other. Bubbling pots crowd the stovetop. The room smells like Bloodstone Beach Caravan Park.

  ‘Hi, Mum.’

  I wait for her to notice my new clothes. My make-up. My cute little handbag.

  ‘It’s all wrong, Paige,’ she cries.

  I pull the hem of my skirt down. ‘But all the girls are wearing——’

  ‘It needs something. Salt? Turmeric?’ She clinks through the tiny spice jars.

  I take the wooden spoon from her and dip it into the bubbling curry in the saucepan. ‘Tastes all right to me.’

  ‘But it’s not just for you. It’s for Reuben, too.’

  ‘Reuben?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mum says, sprinkling lemon myrtle powder into the pot. ‘He’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘But I borrowed a DVD, Mum. I thought we could watch it together.’

  Mum smiles as she tastes the curry. ‘Yes! That’s better!’

  ‘It’s called Many Happy Non-Returns. It’s a comedy.’ I had almost borrowed Sins of the Husband but I didn’t want Mum slashing the lounge cushions.

  ‘Oh, you’ll have to watch it by yourself, love,’ Mum says. ‘Reuben and I will be out beside the pool.’

  I love lying beside the pool and looking up at the stars. ‘Is he teaching you astrology now?’

  ‘Er … yes. Astrology.’

  The doorbell rings. ‘There he is now!’ Mum pulls her hair out of its bun and tosses it around her shoulders. She almost runs to the front door.

  Reuben walks in and gives Mum a kiss on the cheek. His long hair has been plaited and he smells like the men’s fragrance counter at a department store. His aftershave is so strong, my eyes practically start to water.

  Reuben suddenly notices me. ‘Paige
?’

  ‘Yes, Ian cancelled,’ Mum says. She rolls her eyes disapprovingly.

  ‘You should have seen that coming,’ Reuben says. He laughs.

  I laugh.

  Mum laughs.

  I’m glad Mum has a special friend like Reuben to make her laugh.

  But later, as I watch the movie alone, I can’t help wondering where my special friend is.

  On Sunday morning the answer comes knocking on my door. Jed. He thrusts a present at me. It’s the shape of a Coke can. ‘A gift from Canada,’ he announces.

  I take him out to my secret hidey-hole—the cubbyhouse in our neighbour’s backyard. Mrs Johannssen’s own children have grown up but she keeps the cubbyhouse for when her grandchildren visit.

  The cubbyhouse is the place I run away to when I’m not running away. The bottom of our yard backs onto the bottom of Mrs Johannssen’s, so Jed and I climb over the back fence and into Mrs Johannssen’s yard. She doesn’t mind, and it’s quicker than walking around on the streets. We crawl through the cubbyhouse’s tiny door and squat on the tiny chairs.

  ‘Open your present,’ Jed orders.

  ‘You brought me a can of Coke all the way from Canada?’I shake it. It doesn’t feel or sound like liquid.

  ‘Just open it.’

  I tear off the wrapping. I’m right, it is a can. But it is not Coke, or fizzy drink of any sort. According to the label, it is a grizzly bear in a can. ‘Minced?’ I ask, horrified.

  Jed laughs and takes the can away from me. He pulls the ring top and peels back the lid. Out pops a small stuffed grizzly bear. ‘I never got around to sending you a postcard,’he says. ‘And then I saw these at the airport. They have all different ones. Beaver in a can. Moose in a can. Skunk in a can.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to open that one,’ I say.

  Jed laughs.

  ‘Thanks for this,’ I say. And then I start to cry.

  Jed doesn’t know what to do. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

  ‘Everything. Nothing. Just … stuff. School. Rochelle. Elfi.’