by Karen Wyld
‘Well, look at you. That dress is stunning. And I thought you didn’t go out.’
Tori blushed. ‘I don’t. Louis asked me.’
Marcie said to Louis, ‘I remember you. In the street that day. Before Tori started working at the gallery. I’m Marcie.’
Louis nodded hello. Then Marcie and Tori started talking to each other, mostly complaining about Andrés. Louis’s ears pricked up. He wanted to know how Andrés really treated Tori, as she never properly answered his questions. They didn’t say anything of interest, so his attention moved back to the band.
‘Oh, there’s my friends,’ commented Marcie.
Louis and Tori looked in the same direction as Marcie. A group of people stood to the side of the stage, laughing loudly.
‘I’ll see you at work tomorrow,’ said Marcie. ‘Oh, I forgot. Ana’s having a party soon. Do you want to go? You can bring Louis.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ replied Tori.
After Marcie left, Tori asked Louis what he thought about the invitation. He looked at the group of people Marcie had joined, and commented that her friends seemed cool, so maybe it would be a fun party.
When the band finished, Louis insisted on walking Tori home, even though she thought it wasn’t necessary. She changed her mind when he offered to show her where he lived. She was surprised to see him walk through the park, almost to the treehouse.
‘Where are we going? I thought you were showing me your place,’ she said.
‘I am. It’s not much further.’
He walked towards the duck pond, and stopped at the tree with the large hole in the trunk. ‘This is where I live.’
Tori looked up. ‘I don’t see a treehouse.’
‘Not up there, in here.’
He crouched down and climbed into the hole. After a few moments, Tori saw a light flickering. Louis stuck his head out of the hole, holding a candle.
‘You coming in? It’s safe.’
She edged closer, looking into the hole. Louis moved aside for her.
Tori hesitated. ‘Maybe another time. In the daylight.’
Louis tried to mask his disappointment. ‘It’s comfortable in here.’
‘I’ve got to go. Maggie’s probably getting worried. See you tomorrow, perhaps.’
‘I’ll walk you home,’ offered Louis, climbing out.
‘No, don’t bother. You can almost see my place from here. Thanks for the great night. Bye.’
Once she got home, Tori went straight to bed. Maggie was already asleep, clearly not worried about her. Tori thought over her day. Andrés’s anger towards Louis. That creep Barry. And Louis. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and something felt different between them. Tori wondered if she’d overreacted when Louis had taken her hand in the park. She’d always liked him, as a friend. Now she wasn’t so sure. She pondered if it was possible to like someone in a different way. To want to be more than friends but still not interested in hand-holding and other gestures of romance. Tori caught herself picking spots on her face again and put her hands under the bedcovers.
The next morning, the redness on her face had spread a bit further. Tori draped her hair over that side of her face, hoping Maggie wouldn’t notice. She left for work with just a mumbled goodbye. Tori now often wore her hair over that side of her face, and wore long sleeves even when it wasn’t cold. She’d didn’t think anyone had noticed that an occasional scratch had become obsessive behaviour.
Maggie had noticed. And long ago realised what the redness reminded her of. Same side of the face. Same shape and size. Maggie knew who was on her sister’s mind, and wondered if she should say something. She too had been thinking about their mother more often.
When Tori got home from work, Maggie made pancakes with strawberry jam for dinner. They both loved pancakes, as a food connected to good memories of living in the hut on the gibber plains. Their mother would bring home tins of jam from the general store she worked in, and often cooked them up a big pile of pancakes for dinner. She’d told them pancakes were for any time, not just breakfast. She showed them how to make the batter just right, and flip the pancakes just so. Now, in the treehouse, pancake-making had become Maggie’s specialty.
‘Here you go,’ said Maggie.
‘Thanks for making dinner. Best thing to happen all day! Stuff kept going wrong at work, and Andrés unfairly blamed me. Marcie is better at standing up to him than I am.’
‘Is that why you’re stressed and, you know, doing that scratching thing again.’
‘I’m not.’
‘That redness has gotten bigger. Do you think you should see a doctor, before it scars? Maybe get some ointment?’
‘Just drop it. I’m all right.’
‘You could be allergic to something. Maybe it’s this treehouse.’
‘Stop prying. It’s really none of your business.’
‘I care for you. We used to talk more, share our worries.’
‘I said drop it. I’m tired. I’ve worked all day to get us money. Don’t hassle me.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Pass me the jam.’
Maggie handed her sister the jar of jam and a knife. She knew there was no sense pushing her. And besides, Tori was right. It wasn’t her business.
SEVENTEEN
Tori had snuck out not long after sunbreak. Despite it being so early, she saw that black-and-white bird. She usually saw it when walking through the park. It always followed her, often stopping at Louis’s tree. She hadn’t seen him since the night they’d gone to the pub together. A few times, on the way home from work, she’d almost visited his place. It was a new feeling that made her keep walking past, that made her unsure of herself. For now, she had to get home before Maggie woke up. Tori wasn’t sure Louis would remember their birthday plans, so she wanted to still do something special for her sister. Since their mother had died, birthdays were no longer fun for them. Tori had been looking forward to this one, given Louis’s promise to show her the ocean for the first time. A living one, not a bed of rocks where an ancient sea had once been. She was still planning on going, with or without him. When she got back to the treehouse, she was glad to see him waiting at the bottom.
Tori climbed up the rope ladder, and placed a brown paper bag on the table. ‘Breakfast time.’
‘Do I smell warm donuts?’ asked Maggie.
Tori nodded. ‘Fresh from the bakery oven.’
Louis, Maggie and Tori sat on the cushions around the low wooden table, and ate while discussing their plans for the day. Then, gifts were exchanged. Tori gave Maggie a wooden box with birds painted all over. Inside were pencils of many colours. And for Tori, there was a pair of platform shoes. Tori tried them on immediately and walked around.
‘They look good on you,’ remarked Maggi. ‘I’d trip if I even tried them on.’
‘They’re really not difficult to walk in. How did you afford these?’
‘I sold some of my drawings. A friend of Brother Eddie’s bought them. Offered to let me put more in his café. He’s going to frame them first, then take some of the money when he’s sold them.’
‘This is so exciting.’
‘I’m a real artist now.’
‘Soon to be a famous artist,’ remarked Louis.
‘I don’t know about that. I just like drawing.’
Tori said, ‘You’re really good at it. Wish I had some type of creative talent.’
‘You’ll discover yours one day.’
Louis glanced at his watch. ‘We’d best get moving if we want to catch the next tram.’
As they walked, Maggie talked excitedly. She wondered if it was warm enough to go swimming, and then decided that she didn’t care if it was as she was going in regardless. They’d packed towels but not lunch. Louis told them he had that all sorted. Tori wondered what he had in mind, as he wasn’t carrying anything. Maggie’s excited chatter didn’t stop on the tram. She had to point out anything of interest as they travelled along the track.
When
they got off the tram, it was Tori’s turn to be overexcited. She smelt the salt air as she stepped down the steps and onto the pavement. She didn’t need Louis to lead her to the beach. The sea was calling her. She could feel the waves pounding in her chest long before she saw the vast blueness.
‘Come on, Maggie,’ she said, taking her sister by the hand.
They hurried along the pavement, both eager to see what lay ahead. To see what was beyond the long wall of hessian and coastal shrubs in front of them. Tori stopped suddenly.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Maggie, with a look of concern.
Tori clutched her chest, struggling to breathe. The waves’ rhythm had taken charge. She recalled that time Aunty Isabelle had taken her and Maggie to the site of the inland sea, insisting their mother stay behind at the camp. There, Aunty had taught her how to listen to the ancient sea, even if it was no longer visible. It had taken her a while. Rather than hear with her ears, she’d felt that sea deep in her being. She’d forgotten its rhythm. Now, beside this living ocean, she felt it again, knocking the wind from her lungs. When her breath returned, she knew it would forever be in tune with the waves.
Maggie and Tori held hands as they stepped off the pavement and onto the sand. Then they rolled around, laughing, throwing yellow sand in the air, not caring about dry seaweed becoming entwined in their hair. Louis smiled at the sight of them acting like children. Then the three of them ran along the beach. They found an abandoned bucket and made a big castle. Maggie decorated it with shells and feathers they’d collected on the beach. She then took a dip. Almost.
The water was cold, so she didn’t dare go in past her knees. Exhausted, they stretched out on dry sand.
After catching his breath, Louis told them to wait there, and he walked off. When he returned, he was carrying a wicker basket and a picnic rug. Maggie spread the rug on the sand. He placed the basket in the middle, and opened the lid.
‘Where did you get all this?’ asked Maggie. ‘Look, Tori, it’s a feast.’
Louis replied, ‘I came down here a few days ago, and ordered it at a local café. The lady there was super helpful when I told her how it was your birthday. She also made me promise to take you up there for ice cream before we went home today.’
‘Thanks,’ said Tori.
‘It was really no problem.’
Soon they were all too full to take another bite. Tori and Louis covered the leftover food, while Maggie stretched out on the blanket, feeling the sun on her arms and legs.
‘Don’t get burnt,’ warned Tori.
‘Stop fussing.’
Louis suggested, ‘Let’s go for a walk.’
Maggie shook her head. ‘I’m much too full. I might rest for a bit, then sketch some gulls. I brought some paper and my new pencils, just in case.’
‘What about you,’ asked Louis, looking at Tori.
She nodded and got up, brushing crumbs off her legs. They walked to where the sea lapped the sand. Side by side, they strolled along the water’s edge. Louis knew Tori’s hand was close, but he no longer had an urge to reach out and take it. If Tori was only interested in friendship, that’s what he would give.
‘You’re really quiet. What are you thinking about?’ asked Tori.
‘Just enjoying this. Sun, the waves, watching you and Maggie enjoying your first encounter with the sea. I needed a bit of happiness.’
‘Something up?’
‘Just feeling a bit homesick lately. When I came down here a few days ago to arrange the picnic lunch, the sea reminded me of home.’
‘Your family lives nearby?’
‘Far from here. My nan lives close to the ocean, over on the east coast. Growing up, I lived with Nan.’
‘Where were your parents?’
‘Prison, mostly.’
‘That must have been hard on you.’
‘I was just a baby when they first went in. Got used to them coming and going. Nan made sure all that didn’t upset me too much. And my parents aren’t bad people. They never hit me or anything.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I did some dumb stuff; not like my parents, but still bad. I left before the police could find me. I never wanted to see that look on my nan’s face, the disappointment, like my dad had caused.’
‘Would you ever go back?’
‘One day. I want to see Nan again. And hang out with all my cousins. If they’ve forgiven me for taking off. What about you? Have you got family to go to?
‘Not really. We grew up with our mother. I don’t know too much about family. We met Aunty Isabelle when we were staying near a mining town. She’s my father’s aunt. And Maggie and I were born on Country, where our great-grandparents live. I suppose they’ve both died by now. We lived with them until we were four. Our mum also spent her first years there. Her mother is white, and her father was black. He died in the second big war, when she was little, so she didn’t have memories of him. Or her nana Vic and grandfather Albert. I don’t really remember anything of the time we spent with them.’
‘Where’s your father?’
Tori shrugged. ‘Never met him. I’m not really sure he’s alive any more. It’s just a feeling I’ve had for a long time. I think my mum had that feeling too. It made her stop trying. That, and the accident.’
‘Accident?’
‘Can we talk about something else? It’s a day of happiness, remember?’
Louis fell silent, not wanting to push Tori. He was glad she’d opened up to him a bit, and relieved that she listened to his past, without judging.
A few days after their birthday, Tori was feeling annoyed at herself for telling Louis so many personal things about her family. Those things were supposed to remain secret, known only by her and Maggie. Tori had noticed she was picking at her skin more. Since the day at the beach, whenever she caught herself scratching she would take a deep breath and feel the rhythm of the ocean. It worked, most of the time. This morning, it wasn’t working.
‘Don’t get mad,’ pleaded Maggie, approaching Tori as she lay on their bed, ‘I got you a gift.’
‘Our birthday is over. What is it?’ asked Tori, looking at the small jar in Maggie’s hand.
‘Bush rub. Gloria, the Elder you met at the centre, gave it to me. She told me it was for you. To stop the itching and heal your skin. She said it won’t fix whatever it is worrying you, but it’s a start. She wants you to come see her.’
‘Busybody. I don’t need her hoodoo goop. It even smells awful.’
‘Don’t be rude. I like how it smells. Like the grasses that Aunty Isabelle would pick and boil up in a large pot. She must have been making bush rub.’
‘I don’t care. It’s primitive stuff. Complete nonsense.’
‘You used to be more open. You believed everything Aunty Isabelle told you.’
‘I was just a kid then. Everyone has to grow up some day.’
‘Being at that gallery so much is making you forget what little we did learn from family. The stories that Nana Vic and Aunty Isabelle told us. The things Grandfather Albert showed us. We both need to hold on to all that. It will make us stronger, connect us to our Country and mob, even if we’re far from them.’
‘Don’t tell me what I should do. Have you seen a mirror lately? You’re not exactly black.’
‘No need to be so cruel. I know what I look like. I also know who I am, where I come from. What and who I’ve lost. And I’ve seen how mean people are to you. Way back, since we were kids, I knew they treated you different because you’re darker. I saw how much it hurt you. I fought in the schoolyard for you. I don’t know what to do now we’re grown up.’
Tori turned away.
‘I’m going out,’ mumbled Maggie, picking up her art gear.
‘Yeah, hanging out at that centre like a pretender.’
Maggie stopped before climbing down the rope ladder. ‘I’m not the coconut, Tori.’
Marcie reminded Tori about the party she’d mentioned. It was at Ana’s pare
nts’ house. Marcie warned her that Ana’s family threw large parties, the type you need to dress up for. Tori had never been to a formal event, so she was disappointed when Louis didn’t share her enthusiasm. She talked him into going, and offered to go op-shopping with him for suitable clothes. She’d found a black lace dress for herself that she could dress up with costume jewellery.
When they got to Ana’s place, Louis felt uncomfortable in his second-hand clothes. He was not one to usually care about appearances, but the other guests were clearly wearing expensive outfits. He didn’t like standing out. Tori noticed he was tightly clutching an empty glass.
‘Let me get you another one,’ she offered.
Louis nodded. At least the drinks were free. And the lavish spread of food was interesting. He wandered over to the buffet table, and picked up a cracker with tiny black dots lumped on top.
‘I see you have a taste for caviar,’ purred someone behind him.
Louis turned around and saw a woman looking him up and down. She appeared to be slightly older than him, and expensively dressed.
‘It’s an aphrodisiac,’ she said. ‘Not that you’d need any help, I’m guessing.’
Louis turned away and, ignoring her, picked up a devilled egg.
‘Did I make you blush?’ she murmured.
He did his best to look uninterested, hoping she’d move on. He took a bite of the egg, chewing slowly.
She whispered, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’
‘What are we playing?’ asked Tori, as she handed Louis a drink.
The woman turned her attention to Tori. ‘Oh, look at you. Those eyes. The bluest of blue jewels, in a sea of black. Sebastian, come here darling.’
A man walked over. ‘What, Stephanie?’
‘Look at this one. Isn’t she so divine!’
‘Very much so,’ replied Sebastian, looking at Tori. ‘Do you model?’
Tori shook her head. ‘I work for Ana’s friend Andrés. Doing odd jobs at the gallery.’
Stephanie asked, ‘And he hasn’t got you in front of the camera? Andrés must be off his game.’
‘He’s asked me a few times, but I’m not interested.’
