The Lost Summers of Driftwood

by Vanessa McCausland

  Karin watched her sisters descend, followed by Jez. ‘Do you think it’s their gun?’ She turned to Tommy, who was scanning the bush, on high alert

  ‘That’s what I’m worried about. We’re going to have to hide and just watch where they go. Hopefully they won’t go down to the bank and see our boat. He held out the rope to her. ‘You next.’

  Her feet didn’t feel as steady on the way down. One of the pieces of wood on the ladder was wobbly, and she had to stop herself from crying out when her foot slipped. Her hands ached from holding on so tightly.

  The ground was a welcome feeling beneath her feet. She gave the dog a cuddle and they waited for Tommy. As soon as his feet hit the ground he pointed to the bank of mangroves where they’d come from.

  ‘Let’s head back there. We’ll hide in the mangroves,’ he said.

  ‘Are we hiding from baddies?’ asked Camilla.

  As if to answer her question they heard the low sound of the men’s voices. They all instinctively crouched as though ducking for cover from swooping birds. The men laughed and there was a swish swish as they moved through the dense bush.

  Karin could hear her own breath. What if the dog barks and the men find them hiding and come after them with the gun?

  They ran back down the path to the mangroves and squatted at the muddy roots, their hands sticky with sweat, and waited. In the dark of the mangroves, Karin’s eyes met Tommy’s. He nodded in reassurance. She patted the dog’s neck, willing him silently not to bark and give away their hiding place.

  The men moved closer through the bush, their voices becoming louder and louder until she could see their hairy legs going through the mangroves only metres away. They were carrying something. Karin was holding her breath. Their boat was right there on the sand. What if the men stole it, trapping them all here? No one knew where they were. They were meant to still be at the picnic area.

  One of the men yelled and there was a huge splash. Karin jumped, pressing her hand over her mouth. But it wasn’t a body or a gun being thrown into the water, it was a kayak. She felt all the tension in her arms and legs melt away. They weren’t criminals or hobos, they were kayakers. She shared a relieved smile with Tommy and let out a long breath.

  She looked over to see Camilla nestled into Phoebe. Jez and Phoebe were holding hands.

  They watched as the men pushed off into the river with their gleaming silver oars. Even though the threat had passed, none of them moved. The heat of the day thrummed in the air as heavy as the cicada song in the trees, but it was cool and safe in their hiding place.

  Tommy was the first to emerge. ‘They’re gone,’ he said, stretching his hands above his head and letting out a big breath.

  That’s when Karin saw it. The shiny black of the gun tucked into the band of Tommy’s board shorts, as though he’d done it a hundred times before, as though he was already a policeman.

  ‘Tommy,’ she said, shaking her head as she approached him. Her legs felt wobbly and her voice sounded wobbly. ‘Why do you still have it?’

  He swivelled towards her, his hands coming down and finding the gun, taking it quickly out of his waistband. He looked young. Younger than her in that moment. A rush of fear and anger surged through her and she scrunched up her face.

  ‘Why would you bring it? I thought we said we wouldn’t touch it?’ She realised there was another feeling in her body. She felt betrayed. They had a pact, like kids in the adventure books they both liked, to protect the others.

  ‘I just . . . I wanted to have it in case, you know, they were bad men. It’s better for us to have it than them,’ he said, his eyes flashing.

  ‘But they weren’t bad men,’ she said, moving closer over the wet sand towards him. ‘We’re okay now. We should put it back.’

  ‘We can’t keep the gun,’ said Jez, emerging from the mangroves with Camilla and Phoebe behind.

  ‘Oh, I know,’ Tommy said, but he didn’t move.

  Karin felt a jolt of protectiveness for her sisters, and she took a step forward. ‘Maybe give it to me and I’ll take it back up the tree.’

  Tommy took a slow step backwards. ‘I don’t know, is that a good idea? For bad men to have a gun? Who knows who could find it up there in the treehouse? Anyone can see it from the river.’

  ‘It’s better than kids having a gun,’ said Camilla in a small voice, hugging Phoebe’s arm.

  ‘Not really,’ said Tommy. ‘Maybe we should take it to our parents.’ He was still holding the gun with both hands.

  ‘You’re scaring us,’ said Jez in a tone Karin had never heard him use before.

  Maybe it was Jez admitting he was scared, maybe it was the way Tommy was standing there as though he was going to run. Karin moved before she could stop herself. She was reaching forward, her hand touching the cold metal, and then there was a bang so loud her ears rang and for a moment everything slowed and went silent.

  She saw the gun drop to the sand. Tommy fell forward onto his knees, and for an awful second she thought he’d been shot. But he was pressing his hand against the dog’s back leg. The others all rushed forward, crowding around the animal. When Karin’s ears stopped ringing she heard it. A shrieking, high-pitched and awful, coming from the dog. Then she saw it. Blood. Everywhere, blood. The dog was on his side, his eyes showing white. She dropped beside him, letting out a cry.

  ‘He’s badly hurt. The bullet’s hit his leg,’ Tommy said, his hands covered in blood.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’ The words fell out of Karin over and over and she felt her sisters crowd around her, hugging her shoulders. Her whole body was shaking.

  Tommy didn’t take his eyes off the dog but his voice was calm. ‘It’s not your fault. I don’t know why the gun even went off. I thought the safety was on.’

  He sounded so old, like a parent, and Karin realised it was she who had behaved like a child. She buried her face in her hands. She could barely look at the dog thrashing on the sand, his eyes rolling back. Part of her wanted to hold the dog’s shaking body against hers, the other part wanted to run as far away as she could go. And then something solidified inside her. We have to get him into the boat. To a vet.

  She tore off her T-shirt and wrapped it around the hurt leg. Tommy helped, knotting it tight, but there was so much blood. The white fabric was suddenly red.

  Camilla was whimpering on the sand next to the dog’s head, a smear of blood on her cheek. ‘I’m sorry I called you Stinky Bum. Your real name is Bingo. You’re a beautiful dog.’

  ‘Someone help me get him up,’ said Karin, hoisting the dog towards the boat by his shoulders. He was struggling and whining in pain, his back leg kicking madly.

  But the others didn’t move. ‘Why are you all just standing there?’ she cried. ‘Help me. We have to save him. Get him to a vet.’

  Jez, Phoebe and Camilla tried to drag the dog towards the boat but he was heavy and squirming and Karin could tell he didn’t want to be touched. Tommy wasn’t helping at all. She yelled at him but her voice didn’t even sound like her own.

  She saw Tommy shake his head, very slowly. ‘He’s not going to make it. He’s in a lot of pain.’

  He looked towards the gun, still lying on the sand. She shook her head and wrapped the dog up in her arms, smelling his wet, salty, bloody fur. She knew what Tommy meant. ‘No. I won’t let you. We’ll fix this. We’ll fix him. It’s only his leg,’ she said.

  But Tommy had picked up the gun and was walking towards the dog. He pointed the gun at the dog’s head and everyone went quiet and still. Even the river seemed to stop running. The dog calmed a bit.

  ‘No!’ Jez cried. But Tommy shook his head and stayed there. He had tears in his eyes.

  ‘All of you go behind the mangroves. Now.’

  ‘No, Tommy, you don’t have to do this,’ said Karin, pleading with him with her eyes, too frightened to get any closer. ‘Please, I’m begging you, Tommy. We can save him. It’s not far back down the river.’

  ‘I have to do
this. Get behind the trees. Now. Don’t watch.’ Tommy was standing over the dog, not touching him now. His eyes were glassy.

  She looked to Jez and Phoebe, but their faces were pale, their eyes fixed on the dog who was howling softly now. Camilla had her hands over her ears, tears streaming down her face. Karin squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and gave Tommy one last pleading look, but she could see that she couldn’t reach him now. He had made up his mind.

  She kissed the dog’s head then grabbed her sisters and pulled them behind the mangroves. The silence was so loud she couldn’t stand it. Waiting. Waiting for the shot to pierce the thick air. When it rang out they pressed into each other’s bodies, trembling.

  ‘It’s done.’ Tommy stood next to the mangroves and Karin couldn’t see the gun anywhere. She didn’t even care anymore what he did with it. The dog’s body was limp, like a piece of seaweed on the sand.

  She wanted to punch Tommy, hit him in his stupid chest and scream in his calm face, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. Not really. She was the one who had made the gun go off.

  ‘I want to see him. I want to see Bingo,’ said Camilla through her tears.

  ‘Okay,’ said Karin, smoothing her little sister’s hair. ‘We’ll say goodbye.’ She had to be the grown-up now. She needed to look after her little sisters.

  Jez knelt down next to them, still hidden in the mangroves. His eyes were large. ‘Tommy and I will make a raft. We’ll send Bingo out into the river on it. It’ll be like a funeral.’

  It took them a while to head out of the mangroves. It was as though something had changed for them all; the grown-up world had crashed into their little kid world. Karin knew Phoebe felt it, too. For Karin it was as if she was walking through thick water. Her arms and legs would not obey her. But finally she began to move and roused the others.

  ‘We’ll decorate the raft,’ she said as she watched the boys begin to pick up sticks and crack them in half with stomps of their feet. ‘I saw some flowers just a bit up on the bank. I think they were kangaroo paw and banksia. We can decorate the raft with them. Make it beautiful.’

  Bingo’s body looked like a deflated balloon. Karin had never seen a dead body. It was so strange and sad that it felt like a bad dream that she’d wake up from soon.

  As they picked wildflowers from the banks of the river they talked about Bingo. They wondered whose dog he was really, and if he’d be missed. Was he a stray? Or did he just want to come on an adventure? The boys tied reeds from the river around thick branches they had broken with their bare hands and legs. Together they gently moved the dog’s body onto the wobbly stick raft and placed bottlebrushes around his head like a crown, banksia over the wound on his leg and a big red waratah over his chest where his heart would be. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and they knew their parents would be worried. As the raft drifted out, they all held hands on the bank, watching until the river claimed Bingo, and he disappeared forever.

  CHAPTER 21

  The tide was the highest Phoebe had seen it. The jetty met with the lip of the water as though the river was going to consume it whole. She thought about that abandoned champagne glass, of all those old bones of fish and crabs and other dead things under the water. She wished the river could whisper its secrets. Stories of it flooding had been passed down from her grandparents, but no one could remember actually having seen it.

  Phoebe felt like she was caught in the tide. She had no choice but to let it carry her, because everyone knew that swimming against the tide didn’t work. The water was too strong, too deep.

  The afternoon was unseasonably warm. They’d spent all day preparing for the barbecue—thankfully, Camilla had stopped calling it a party. Phoebe was glad of the distraction, and as she watched her sister direct proceedings, she realised that this was Camilla’s way of showing her love for Karin. The deck had been swept, the lawn mown, lights and lanterns strung up and the smell of baking pastry wafted from the kitchen. There were none of Camilla’s usual flourishes. The food was going to be basic—sausages and bread rolls, some mini quiches, bags of crisps emptied into their grandmother’s cut-glass bowls, and sandwiches cut into triangles. It had turned out, not as a showpiece for Camilla’s entertaining, but her concession to something simpler. This was the sort of gathering Karin might have thrown herself.

  Phoebe was putting beer and wine into an esky on the deck when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and jolted upright. Jez was just standing there, as though he’d been standing there all along. He smiled at her. An easy smile. The kind that he used to have in the sun-honeyed warmth of the past. She blinked, confused. She looked around for Asha, senses acute.

  ‘She’s not here,’ he said, reading her.

  ‘You’re early. We’re not expecting anyone for an hour.’

  She looked at his face, really looked. His eyes were soft and all she could see was hope.

  ‘Can you come with me? Can we talk?’ he asked, holding out his hand.

  She could hear Camilla and her dad in the kitchen. ‘Why are you here, Jez?’

  ‘Everything’s changed, Phoebe. Please, will you just come for a quick drive with me? Please.’

  Phoebe ducked into the house. ‘I’m just popping into the Bay,’ she said. ‘Need anything?’ As she grabbed her car keys she couldn’t help but feel her heart blooming with the same hope she’d seen on Jez’s face.

  * * *

  The beach was deserted. No one swam here because the sand was flecked with black mud from the estuary. The tide was high, the water having reclaimed the driftwood that usually lay in the shallows. Phoebe got out of her car just as Jez’s ute crunched into the car park. Her whole body trembled as he waved.

  He got out of his ute and now she could see that his emotions were mixed. There was heaviness in the way he closed the car door, as if it were taking all his energy. But that warm smile came easily to his lips as he approached.

  ‘Let’s walk,’ she suggested.

  He breathed deeply and nodded.

  They took off their shoes and began towards the estuary, the late afternoon sun at their backs.

  ‘I don’t know where to start,’ he said.

  ‘Start at the beginning.’

  ‘I’ll start at the end,’ he said, eyes fixed on the sand in front of him, voice steady. ‘We lost the baby.’

  Phoebe stopped and turned to him. ‘Oh no, I’m so sorry Jez.’

  ‘I’ve just come from the hospital.’

  ‘How’s Asha?’ Her mind was spinning, like the seagulls wheeling above them.

  He shook his head and took another deep breath. ‘She’s gone crazy with grief. Flick’s with her now. She’s not alone.’

  ‘Of course. Good. That’s good. But maybe you should—’

  ‘She doesn’t want me there. She’s blaming me. Saying I didn’t want this baby. But I did, Phoebe. I’ve wanted this baby for so long.’ His face crumpled and he pressed his fists into his eye sockets.

  ‘I know, I know you did.’

  There were so many emotions running through her. Guilt, relief, love, pain. She felt the anguish as a burn in her chest. ‘Jez.’ She took a step towards him and gently pulled his hands away from his eyes. He was crying.

  ‘I feel like such a bastard.’

  She pulled him down so that they were sitting on the sand. She wrapped his wide back in her arms and he deflated. His head hung between his knees and his body shook silently.

  ‘It’s not your fault, Jez. You tried your best. You tried to be honourable, which is all anyone can do in life.’

  He straightened and wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt. His eyes were red-rimmed. ‘The things she said.’

  ‘She’s grieving.’

  ‘It feels like that baby was the only thing keeping us together. But I was trying. I was going to be a good dad.’

  ‘And you would have been.’

  ‘Then why do I feel so relieved, Phoebe? Why do I feel like I’ve escaped when the mother of my child is
in so much pain? How can I be such a bastard?’

  ‘You’re not a bastard, Jez, you’re human. You’ve been struggling with this for a long time. It’s okay to feel two things at once. Emotions are not black and white.’

  His whole body was shaking now and he turned to her, his eyes filled with tears. ‘But that’s the thing. It is black and white. I love you, Phoebe. I want to be with you. It’s so clear and it’s so awful. I just don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Hey, hey.’ She spoke quietly, as though to a wild animal in distress. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Swiftly then, she was in his arms and he was kissing her. It was hungry and slow and full of anguish and passion. Her mind was telling her to resist, that this was not the time or the place, but it felt like she was diving into him and there was no way out. She couldn’t breathe but it didn’t matter. Wet foam nipped at their feet and they rose, stumbling towards a fallen tree trunk at the mouth of the estuary.

  Her body was alive as she lay on the powdery sand. He tasted like the ocean, his breath a shell held close to her ear. Her mind flatlined. All she could do was feel. Her bare back on sand, his skin rougher than she remembered. The sea surged around them as he entered her and it felt like the whole ocean engulfing her. She went under and opened her eyes. His eyes were open too, and she could see all the way into him. Her external senses closed down then, in the watery space between them and she wanted to stay in this secret place of theirs forever. And then she was gasping for air. They both were. And they clung together, their bodies shivering, but warm in their underwater knowledge.

  They must have stayed like that for a long time. Phoebe felt honed by the forces of wind and water. They dressed slowly, the crash of the waves and the bird call intensifying as the evening put down its soft-footed paws.

  He took her hands and guided her over the log that had shielded them from view. ‘I don’t have to tell you that I’ll do anything to be with you.’

  She smiled at him, a rush of gratitude filling her. ‘I’m so in love with you.’

  He kissed her hair. ‘I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.’