*
Anne, her husband, and Rita’s husband, sat in front of the officer’s desk – he’d nipped out for a minute to find an extra chair, but stuck his head back in, as if to emphasise something vague, and said, I’ve got to make a statement to the press. What I want to know, Mrs … is why you kept it a secret. The creature could have been protected. It’s one of the most significant discoveries, and losses, in natural history. To have avoided extinction, here, of all places! Then he filled the room with gravitas, as if playing a role he didn’t quite understand, adding, Barely enough left of the hide of this one to identify it without DNA to back it up. Did that officer flick me with his elbow as he walked past? Is he having a go? We’ll go out and investigate the area, of course. Obviously there’s a male somewhere. Maybe others. But this might be an end. Burnt out. Secrecy killed it. The officer didn’t seem concerned by Anne’s outburst and tears of anger and refusal.
Then suddenly Rita’s husband was contrite. And he did weep and call his dead wife’s name. He wanted to say, Thank you, now I understand so much, but it didn’t make sense to him. He wondered how large a fine he could expect. If his name would be so besmirched that he would have no chance of a new life in the city. Would he be stuck with the ashes in the ashes? He saw no light.
And the stripes on its flanks – it did look so like the picture he’d seen of the last thylacine to die in captivity. Rita had showed him that on her computer one day. Why are you showing me that shit? he’d said, his head full of counting weights of nails and screws and other stock for the store. And the mother creature’s two pups were so charred, so altered, that they’d lost their lustre. He remembered he’d seen a corpse of one that had been killed in Tasmania so long ago. Was it in a book? A city museum? Did she show him that on the computer as well?
No, he’d seen it with her somewhere else. The living dead. A taxidermied corpse of a thylacine. He had only ever travelled overseas once with Rita, in fact once in his life. Three weeks in Sweden and a few days in Norway to see the fjords. The Stockholm Museum of Natural History, that’s where he’d seen the thylacine. A beautifully preserved female specimen. The city, where all country things gravitate in the end. He had enjoyed Stockholm. It had been the highlight of their long marriage. That specimen had mighty sharp teeth, if he recalled correctly. Other than the eyes, it looked as if it were alive.
CHEATING THE PERIODIC TABLE
Neither needed to cheat – they were already top of the class. In a league of your own, the teacher told them.
It was Chad who suggested by the nudge of an elbow, when they were cross-marking each other’s papers, that they should – as he adjusted Ezra’s error – aim for perfection.
Ezra was from another state. He’d gone through a silent, friendless year on arrival, and was determined his second year would be better. Even someone he wasn’t sure of was better than no one at all.
They sat at the front laboratory bench, under their teacher’s nose. Maybe the teacher knew of their minor transgressions, those dozen extra marks garnered across an entire term, but if so, he kept it to himself. They were his two star pupils – the best he’d ever taught. Sometimes, early on, they even stayed in the lab at lunchtime, eating their sandwiches among the chemicals, and did original experiments with the teacher’s sanction.
But the teacher did notice the unusual, even strange, nature of their interaction. He whispered once to the new boy to be careful. Of what, sir? And the teacher had grown red-faced, unsure of what himself. Chad noticed this, and cocked an eyebrow.
Ezra had never cheated before. In fact, he found it repugnant and on more than one occasion crossed out the false mark at the bottom of his paper and inserted a lower one. Not out of nobility – he had no belief in any system, and felt abandoned and alienated – but out of guilt. He didn’t understand the nature of this guilt, but thought it might have something to do with the unassimilated God he dragged around with him from his early years in church. He had left church with a flourish – Idiotic dogmatism! he had screamed at his family and the minister. After school, maybe to help shed the guilt, he wandered the beach in bare feet, because this was the ‘sunniest town in Western Australia’, and he liked the blinding glare and the feeling of shift and change beneath his feet. He collected small shells and displayed them on the windowsill in his bedroom. He counted ships coming into the harbour.
*
When the invitation came to stay the weekend at Chad’s place, Ezra grew nervous and said he’d have to ask his parents first. He’d never stayed at a friend’s house overnight before, never mind a whole weekend. Out to a small town on the school bus after school on Friday; back in the bus on Monday morning. He’d have to take his ‘stay away’ clothes and the like with him. Huge potential for shame.
Even going to the bus stop was awkward – other kids were looking at him as though he didn’t belong, and he didn’t. Chad was talking at a million miles an hour, and though gawky and bespectacled, he exuded a confidence that seemed to protect him from taunts. He was much taller than Ezra, and even this made Ezra feel out of place; he wasn’t sure who Chad really was. And that was why he decided, with the enthusiastic approval of his mother, who had also now ‘moved on’ from the church, to go and find out: Chad in his home setting.
Ezra had seen Chad slip books from the library shelves under his jumper, then, taking them outside, rip the date slip and book card pocket out, and say he would sell them at a second-hand shop next time he went down to the city. He always seemed to be cosy with the footy guys as well, handing them packets under the table and laughing when they pummelled his arm. In Ezra’s experience, girls would puke if they received any attention from a Chad, but they simply treated him with polite indifference, without any of the ‘you stink, get away’ stuff Ezra was himself familiar with. Chad was a beanpole with pimples, glasses and literally a snaggle-tooth. He liked chemistry and maths. How did he get away with being, if not cool, then not-uncool?
Chad led Ezra down to the back seat of the bus, nudging him along so a bunch of rough girls from the year below theirs could squeeze up next to them. As the bus lurched out and down the highway, to branch off through the valley to his distant hamlet, Chad said, The two next to us are sisters, Jules and Beth, or ‘Bef’, as she prefers. And that’s Vicky, their best friend. We’ve known each other since we could walk and talk. The girls giggled. Chad then whispered, Watch me, and over the weekend you might get a bit, too. He then stuck a finger in front of Ezra, dipped it under the skirt of one of the sisters, and as she went red in the face, pulled it out and stuck it under Ezra’s nose, saying, Now sniff that!
Ezra pulled his face away and tried not to look at any of them, but as his eyes flashed across to the window, he noticed the driver looking up to the mirror, which was focused not on the back window but down the aisle onto the centre of the back seat. Chad, sharp as, noticed all. Don’t worry about Possum, he said, He’s an old perv from way back. He offers the girls five bucks for a peek, and ten bucks for a feel. Not that they ever do, being mine all mine. But I am happy to share with you. Ezra noted that the girls’ giggling was not happy giggling, and he felt deeply uncomfortable with his new friend and co-conspirator.
*
When Ezra sat with the school guidance officer (Bob to the students, who according to Chad was on pills), he stared out the window at the great Norfolk Island pines bending in the driving sea breeze. Even through the closed glass, he could taste the salt.
Your grades are rapidly declining, Bob seemed to be saying.
Yes, Bob.
What was Bob doing? Drawing on his desk. Carving his initials into the woodwork with a compass.
Ezra, I am going to call a meeting with your parents. Look, English down twenty per cent on last term, Maths down thirty per cent, Literature down thirty per cent … in fact, all your subjects are in freefall other than –
Chemistry.
Yes, Chemistry. And I’ve spoken to all your teachers, and only your Chemistr
y teacher says that you have enthusiasm and a compulsion to succeed. Now why is that? Why can’t you carry this across all your subjects? You need to be well-rounded. And why not get out and play a little more sport? You’re looking pasty.
Ezra believed in the sea as a force, as a reason to believe in something. It was the best part about being here, so far away from old friends … well, friends he never really had. But far away from the familiar, safe-ish places of childhood. The outer suburbs of a big city. This was so different, so far from anywhere he understood. But he liked how clean the sea made you feel; he didn’t like inland, not out there where he had now stayed three weekends over the past six months. Where Chad had taught him to make explosives; where they had blown up an old tractor; where they had sat on a blanket over night-blackened dust, feeling its redness creep into their pores, staring at the stars, naming the constellations – Chad was a whizz at all the sciences – while rubbing the vulvas of the girls who had ridden with them on the bus, all of them sharing a spliff which Chad had bought from the bus driver for twenty bucks. It’s a rip-off, but it’s good gear and what can you do about it? Anyway, I’m growing my own now – took some seeds out of the last one I bought from him, and have them growing in a safe spot. Where? asked one of the girls. Nowhere you’ll find them!
Chad treated the girls like his very own Playboy Bunnies, but Ezra knew, from the way they clamped shut when he touched them, that there was more going on than Chad was letting on. What, Ezra had no idea, but he did know it was about Chad, and nothing to do with him. His was just a hand in the dark to be tolerated. It was Chad’s will that it was so.
*
Chad didn’t really hang around with Ezra at school anymore. And when Ezra went to speak with Dorla – the girl from the bus who wasn’t a sister – she ignored him. And the girl next to her said, What are ya? What ya lookin’ at, square eyes? and Ezra put his head down and slunk away.
*
But then suddenly Ezra was back in vogue – Chad wanted to go into town to buy his lunch, which was against school rules. He got a letter from his old man (his mother having no say in anything much to do with Chad), commanding the school authorities to allow his son to eat at the bakery in town, and thus it was so. But Chad was bored going on his own and cajoled Ezra into asking his parents. Ezra was part of the fabric of the universe again.
Ask your dad, Ezra.
Nah, he’ll just say no. If I ask anyone, it’ll have to be Mum.
Ask ya mum? Gotta be joking. My old man, and you know my old man, says the reason blokes think we’re effeminate is because of what our mothers said to us as toddlers.
Don’t know about that. I told your dad we’re not effeminate last time I was at yours. Ezra wanted to complain about Chad’s father standing in the bathroom while he showered, talking about the lack of water out here, and you town bludgers have it easy, standing looking into the curtainless shower, staring straight at Ezra and, Ezra was sure, at his bare bum when he turned away. But he didn’t complain. Ezra kept so much bottled up, as the guidance officer had said.
He’s right, Ezra, we are a bit effeminate. We’ve gotta work on it. As Dad says, If we wanna pull pussy when we’re older, we’ve got to act like blokes. Got to build up muscle and get the right attitude. Dad says, Get ’em while they’re young, son!
Ezra got a letter from his mother and they both ate at the bakery in town, returning to class always a few minutes late, unless it was a Thursday when they had Chem straight after lunch.
*
On the day of their periodic table test, Chad brought some vodka to school in a flask. They drank it in the public toilets down on the town oval instead of going to the bakery for lunch. Chad said the girls on the bus that morning wouldn’t have any, and were all acting up-themselves anyway. There wasn’t much action there these days, so there was plenty of vodka to share before the test with Ezra.
Ezra took little sips and pretended to be more affected than he was, which satisfied Chad. Ezra said, Don’t you love to watch the seagulls when you’re pissed, Chad? The way they kind of fly smooth and in knots at once. Fucking seagulls, said Chad, I’d like to give them what for!
What for! was Chad’s latest. He’d been on a bit of a bodybuilding violence kick of late, almost begging or insisting that Ezra come out to the hamlet, all those zillions of k’s from the coast, out to the bare paddocks and small patches of stunted scrub, and town hall and shop and petrol station and smattering of houses and his father’s spray contracting works (Chad wondered what there was to spray out on those bare, red, cleared paddocks). Come out and watch martial arts videos and get pissed and fight with me and maybe even go and rape one of the girls! Wouldn’t that be a laugh – we could take turns at holding Dorla down and fucking her in the bum. Chad rolled onto his back laughing, balancing the vodka as he went so as not to spill a drop. Ezra said, You’re just talking piss talk! It’s ten minutes till lunchbreak finishes – let’s go.
As they walked into the school, though he had drunk little, Ezra felt light-headed, and sat on a bench outside the dubs, head in hands, while Chad went in for a piss. And then Dorla was standing in front of him. She stuck a piece of paper into Ezra’s hand. He looked up but she was already going. He was embarrassed that he knew her in a way he shouldn’t. She was pretty, he thought. And smart. And then she was gone and Chad was next to him, having rinsed his face and sharpened up, saying, Okay, mate, let’s go and ace this test!
Ezra shoved the paper into his pocket and followed Chad. Chad was oblivious. A man on a mission.
It was an easy test for both of them. Pissed or sober. Atomic numbers, electrons, Chromium … Cr 24, followed by Manganese … 25 … Mn … Ezra finished ten minutes before time and while Chad, who had also finished, drew violent pictures on his file, Ezra read Dorla’s note.
Dear Ezra,
Chad has been blackmailing me. I do not want to be touched by him or you or anyone. It is repulsive to be touched like that. I hate you for doing what he says. I know you don’t want to do it. Chad is a bad person. Please stop being a bad person. It is disgusting.
Love,
Dorla
Ezra didn’t understand the ‘Love’ and suddenly grew giddy and fell from his chair. The class laughed, Chad loudest. Are you okay, Ezra? asked the teacher. Ezra picked himself up and said yes, fearing the teacher would come close and smell his breath. Ezra was suddenly confused how the teacher couldn’t tell they’d been drinking– all the kids knew that Chad drank; it was one of the reasons his effeminacy was seen as cool. Ezra steadied himself – it was okay, it would be all right.
When marking time came and the students swapped, as always, with their neighbour, there was nothing to correct on either boy’s paper. But with Dorla’s ‘Love’ in mind, Ezra altered some of Chad’s answers and marked them wrong. When the papers were handed back and the marks called out, Chad laughed and said, One hundred per cent, of course. Ezra said loudly, looking at the teacher, then back from the front bench at the rest of the class, No, sorry, it was ninety per cent. No, insisted Chad, who had had no time to alter the miscorrections back, No, you look, sir, and he went up and handed the teacher the paper, and the teacher with barely a glance said, Yes, you’re right, Chad, an error on Ezra’s part. Ezra, I think you’re out of sorts today.
*
Ezra was moved from sitting next to Chad. Chad had a new marking partner. The fifth best Chemistry student. A boy. The third and fourth best students were girls.
Ezra’s Chemistry marked dipped, though he wasn’t sure why.
Chad spent lunchtimes in the lab with the Chemistry teacher, working on special experiments. It was near the end of the year anyway. Ezra walked to the bakery for lunch on his own and sat on the limestone breakwater eating his pie, listening to the gulls. One afternoon he watched a sea lion do acrobatics in the green water below.
On the last day of the year – and Ezra only had one more year of school after this – Dorla came up to Ezra at his locker and said, We�
��re moving into town over the holidays. Ezra couldn’t look at her.
Dorla rocked back and forth, and he focused on her socks, which had pink pompoms at the back. She wore a silver anklet as well – as much jewellery as the girls could get away with at school, apart from earrings. She said, We could go swimming together, if you like? Or next year I could get permission to have lunch at the bakery.
Ezra wanted to touch her, but muttered, so only she could hear, I like staring out over the horizon when I’m by the sea.
Yes, she said, it’s on the edge, isn’t it? You can always step off the edge and into oblivion.
He looked up, fixated on her mascara, and her pleasantly sarcastic smile, and said, Yes.
THE TELEPHONE
They were close enough to the dregs of the river to have a water rat dead on their dead lawn. The neighbouring boy, Vaughan, came over to poke a stick at it and say, My sister has fur like that, and snigger. When Joel set up a homemade phone ‘network’ between his room and Vaughan’s sister’s, it was to talk with Vaughan and not Nina. But he was short of copper wire, so until he could afford more and get down to the city to procure it, or come across a piece of old equipment he could strip down and acquire extra wire that way, it was Nina’s room that served as the phone booth.
Theirs was one of the Five Towns that dotted the Avon River’s winding way down through the valley. Their town was mostly dry and not much visited compared with a few of the others. The river seemed to run out of steam, or maybe just couldn’t get restarted outside the town waterhole that had sort of survived the river’s ‘training’, when the authorities dredged out the year-round waterholes the Noongar people had respected and benefited from. Maybe it was because the town was really closer to the river’s beginning rather than its end.
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