Singing Home the Whale

by Hager, Mandy

  Pania rounded on her. ‘How could you? Do you have any idea how much money it is?’

  ‘It wasn’t me.’ Gabby widened her eyes, all innocent. Miss Demure. ‘I never said a word to him.’

  Will knitted his fingers together to stop them balling into fists. ‘That’s crap. I saw you—’

  ‘You broke my phone, remember?’ She eyed Cathy and Nanny M. ‘He attacked me and snatched my phone. He’s a psycho.’

  Hunter jostled through the crowd. ‘She brought out tourists. She was going to charge them to swim with Min.’

  There was an explosion of asides about who ‘Min’ was. Will retreated into his migraine.

  Harley raised his hands. ‘That’s enough! The law’s the law.’ He shooed them off like bolshie sheep. ‘Go home. This sideshow’s over. And from now on no one even makes eye contact with that orca, you understand? If he gets lonely enough he’ll make his way home.’

  ‘That’s rot!’ Viv said. ‘There’s absolutely no proof that showing him kindness is detrimental. In fact, quite the opposite.’

  ‘Listen, Viv, your hippie theories are no business of mine. It’s my job to uphold the law.’ He raised his voice so everyone could hear. ‘And I’m warning all of you that if you get close enough to look him in the eye you can expect a fine like Mr Jackson here. End of story.’

  Will didn’t hang around to argue, though others did. He pushed through them, startled by the friendly pats that buoyed him as he staggered up the road to Dean’s. He needed a pill right now or the migraine would go on for days.

  When he arrived, the house was empty. He took the pill. Fell into bed, too leaden to kick off his shoes. He dropped right into the middle of a vivid dream. Was chasing sheets of music as they flew down busy New York streets, dodging yellow taxi cabs. They eddied around corners. Fluttered. Danced. And every time he caught one the wind would snatch it back. He chased one particular sheet — The Mikado’s ‘Young Man, Despair’ — for hours. Days. Years. Finally he awoke again with a sickening jolt.

  Dean stood over him, a tea towel draped across his shoulder. ‘You okay, mate? I got back from Nelson half an hour ago and you were out for the count.’

  It took a moment to reorientate. His tongue felt thick. ‘Migraine.’

  ‘You taken something for it?’

  ‘Yep.’ He propped himself onto one elbow, squinting as the pressure readjusted behind his eyes. A thousand tiny men pick-axed his skull, trying to get out. ‘Has Harley rung?’

  ‘Harley Andrews? No. Why?’ The light in Dean’s eyes dulled to something hard.

  Will swung his feet onto the floor in slow motion and pulled the infringement notice from his pocket. Handed it to Dean.

  As Dean scanned it his expression soured. He screwed it up and hurled it across the room.

  ‘This stinks of Bruce.’

  ‘Yep.’ The crumpled notice crowned a pile of dirty washing like an origami dog turd. ‘Gabby sicced him onto us because we stopped her turning Min into a moneymaking sideshow.’

  ‘I’ve gotta say up front, Will, I just don’t have that kind of dough. Nor do your folks, obviously.’

  ‘I know. I don’t expect you to — or Mum and Dad.’ He had no idea how he was going to fix this. ‘I thought I might try fighting it.’

  Dean shook his head. ‘Forget it. Fisheries can afford top-shelf lawyers — and Bruce will make damn sure they do.’ He rubbed his neck. ‘And if you lose they’ll charge you court costs. Trust me, I’ve been down that road. It’s a shit fight.’

  ‘Please don’t tell Mum and Dad. I’ll sort it.’

  ‘If you’d listened to me in the first place …’

  Will shrugged. If there was one thing he’d learned about lectures it was that they always stated the obvious. Though, given everything, who could blame Dean? ‘I know.’

  But if he’d done what he was told Min might be dead by now, so how could he regret taking a stand? It was the most amazing thing, their weird connection. Like some kind of Vulcan mind-tap. He truly felt as if Min understood him. But if he told people they’d—

  Someone rapped on the front door and a burble of excited voices burst into the hallway. Hunter, definitely — and Pania too. Will hauled himself up and went to greet them.

  ‘You’ve heard?’ Hunter asked Dean.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you ring me?’

  ‘I did,’ said Hunter. ‘It went straight to answerphone.’

  Dean slipped his hand into his pocket. Produced his mobile. ‘Ah, shit. It’s out of juice.’

  ‘We’ve got great news,’ Pania said. ‘Can we come in?’

  They piled around the kitchen table while Will downed another pill.

  ‘So?’ He didn’t really want to know. Things had a way of compounding — and not in a good way.

  Pania lit up. ‘We have a cunning plan!’

  He knew this game. Was impressed she liked Blackadder too. ‘I know: so cunning you could pin a tail on it and call it a weasel — or a Bruce.’

  Pania grinned. ‘Exactly!’

  Hunter chimed in. ‘It’s Cathy’s idea, her and Nanny M’s.’

  Dean drummed his fingers on the table, the tic in his jaw working overtime. ‘Out with it.’

  Hunter cleared his throat. ‘We thought if we could raise funds for a lawyer, they might get you off.’

  Dean’s lips thinned. ‘That’s wishful thinking. It’d take thousands.’

  ‘What’s the plan?’ Will longed for bed.

  ‘A concert!’ Pania burst out. ‘All the local musicians will come, Mum’s already phoning around. And we thought you could sing too …’

  ‘No way.’ And, even if he did, his kind of singing would go down like regurgitated sick.

  ‘Course you can.’ Hunter nudged him. ‘Hey, and here’s the cunning part: you don’t have to perform live! We’ll film you singing with Min and play it at the concert. People will go nuts for it.’ He turned to Dean, his eyes aglow. ‘Have you heard Will and Min? It’s incredible.’

  Dean shook his head, eyeing Will so intently he heated up.

  ‘And the best part is,’ said Pania, ‘once they’ve heard they’ll end up wanting to help Min too!’ She smiled at each of them in turn, radiating optimism. ‘If the whole town gets behind it, Bruce will have to tell Harley to drop the fine.’

  ‘There’re people who’ll back Bruce no matter how cute your bloody orca is,’ Dean said.

  ‘Mum said you’d say that!’ Pania grinned. ‘And she said to tell you they’ll sort everything so you can stay right out of it. She says to make sure you give Bruce no excuse. Ka pai?’

  Dean grunted. ‘Ka pai. Your mother knows me far too well. But she’s forgotten that Will being my nephew is all the excuse Bruce needs.’

  ‘Then Will can stay with us, and you pretend you’ve kicked him out.’ She glanced at Hunter. ‘You come too, if you want.’

  There was an awkward silence as everyone tried not to look at the bruising around Hunter’s eye. He shrugged. ‘I’ll see.’

  Out of nowhere the flaw in their plan suddenly struck Will. ‘If you film me and Min — if I agree, that is, which I’m not, okay? But, if I did, then you’d be filming more evidence I’d been with Min again. And what’s the bet Harley would slap me with another fine on top of this one?’

  Pania and Hunter exchanged glances, visibly deflating.

  ‘Bugger,’ Hunter said. ‘We didn’t think of that.’

  ‘Shi—’ Pania clamped her hand over her mouth.

  Dean blocked his ears. ‘I didn’t hear that!’ He dropped his hands and, with that, his tone grew serious. ‘You know you could get around that if you said you’d already filmed it?’

  ‘That’s genius!’ Pania threw her arms around him. ‘I knew you’d come around.’

  ‘Whoa there!’ Dean shucked her off. ‘I’m staying right out of this, remember? Not a word has passed my lips.’ He pushed the chair out from the table. Stood up. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I need some kai.’ He picked up a kni
fe and headed for the vege garden.

  ‘So?’ Pania focused back on Will. ‘What do you reckon?’

  ‘I’ve only got twenty-one days to find the money.’

  ‘Mum says she can pull it together for the Saturday after next. That’s only two weeks. And Dad’s going to the Court Registrar to see if you could pay it off. We’re going to ask Greenpeace for help as well.’

  The whole thing was crazy. How much could they realistically hope to raise? Maybe a couple of grand if they were really lucky. And why the hell would anyone rally around him anyway? He was an outsider. A bloody townie. And, worst of all, a joke. Most of the locals probably thought he deserved it. Especially Bruce and his big-mouthed evil niece-spawn. No way would they let him off the hook. Pit bull terriers, both of them. Which meant that, despite Harley’s grandstanding, Min was still at risk. His headache squeezed his thoughts dry of hope.

  ‘Has Viv had any luck with that orca expert?’

  Pania shook her head. ‘Not yet. She’s out of the country.’

  Nothing ever came easy any more. He yawned, the stretch shooting spears into his temples. He could hardly keep his eyes open. ‘I’m really, really sorry, guys, but I’ve got a migraine.’ He couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t see straight. He pushed up from the table. ‘Thanks. I’ll catch you in the morning.’

  ‘I’ll be at work,’ Hunter said.

  ‘I’ll be at school.’

  ‘Tomorrow evening, then.’

  He left them staring after him. Probably thought he was a loser hypochondriac. Probably was.

  SOMETIME AFTER MIDNIGHT HE WOKE again, starving, relieved to realise the migraine had gone. He crept out to the kitchen and raided the fridge: four chicken drumsticks, homemade potato salad, a bowl of leafy greens. He ate them in the dark, accompanied by Dean’s bagpipe snores.

  It was sheer relief to think again without the whole percussion section going off. Not that it clarified a lot. Except the pull to check on Min, who must be wondering why he’d been abandoned yet again. It was unbearable. And now every time he wanted to see him, that prick would be watching. Though, hang on … he wasn’t watching now. No one was. If Min had any memory of the other night, then he might be waiting near the wharf.

  Will fetched the torch and snuck out to the garage for the wetsuit Dean had given him. It was too big but still would work as insulation against the cold. He stripped and pulled it on, pleased by the added bonus that it worked as camouflage.

  He sprinted along the empty road, his feet tender by the time he jogged down the longest finger of the marina. Right at the end Bruce’s flash twin-hulled Catamaran took pride of place, a feat of engineering and technology (according to Dean). When Will was sure he was alone he edged across its deck and whistled Min’s special note.

  Almost at once the water stirred and he heard the spit of Min’s blowhole. ‘Hey, mate.’ Will lowered himself into the murky water, cold enough to make him gasp. Min bumped and nudged and whined like an overwrought puppy.

  ‘Shhh, mate. Keep it down.’ Will swam out from the wharf, beyond the scope of the security lights. He’d never swum at night before, not out in the deep like this. It freaked him not to know what else lurked below. What the—? There was something coming at him, strange lights tracking through the sea. What the hell?

  It was Min, a sparkling iridescent trail rippling in his wake. Phosphorescence! Will swept his arm from left to right and made a trail like lit sparklers. It was beautiful, bubbly white-blue light and silver foam. Magic. And it seemed Min liked the magic too. He breached and crashed down next to Will, droplets exploding like fireworks.

  They lolled in the phosphorescent glow, competing for the most brazen display. Min aced it. Swam out into the darkness and disappeared so long that tension wound up in Will’s gut. Then, out of nowhere, Min shot back at him like a tracking missile. He cruised just below the surface, leaving a glowing wake, and veered off at the last minute. The trail he left looked like the Milky Way. Star bursts. Meteor showers. Solar flares.

  When the novelty eventually wore off Min quietened and nestled into Will, his eye reflecting back the waning moon. Will draped an arm across him, hooked on as they gently rose and fell together in the shifting swell.

  He almost dozed, right on the abyss-edge, his subconscious playing tricks. He heard voices on the breeze, but when he sharpened up all he could hear was the lap of ripples on the stationary hulls. He thought he saw things, too — a boat, canoes, and even for a moment a levitating man — but when he blinked and looked again nothing was there. Several times he must have slept, stopped from sinking by a squeal from Min, loud enough to startle him.

  In the coldest, darkest hour before dawn, Will sang him lullabies and nursery rhymes from his past. ‘I see the moon, the moon sees me …’ He could still hear the echoes of his mother’s voice, the breathy way she’d scrabble for the high notes, the way she’d pat his back in time, until the act of patting became enough to soothe him on its own. And now, adrift — his buoy a living, breathing whale — the memory of her voice was soothing too. And it reminded him how lucky he was to be loved. Not like poor Hunter. Or Min. Imagine being born into a world where song was everything. Amazing. But then to find yourself alone and cut off from it all would be as mind-blowing as waking up on Mars. Or in Blythe.

  A steely dawn was rising in the east as Will patted Min goodbye, letting the little bugger bubble-blast him back. He was still grinning as he stumbled from the water, gravity reclaiming him.

  At Dean’s, he stripped off in the garage and streaked back to the house. The clock was edging towards five; bed pulled him like an alien tractor-beam. But it was vital to keep Dean onside — and sleeping late would piss him off. Nothing annoyed him more than laziness. Will had learnt that the very first week, sleeping all day, trawling the internet all night. Dean had blown his top. If you don’t shift your lazy arse and stick to normal hours you’re out.

  Will booted up his computer to email his parents. Needed to do a little damage control.

  Hi ya, Sorry I missed talking to you guys last night. It’s all fine here. Things quietened down and guess what?

  Would the fact he sounded happier be enough of a smokescreen? Didn’t know. Too tired to think.

  I’ve met a couple of new friends — and get this, Mum, one of them’s your cousin Cathy’s daughter Pania! I’m going to help them organise a concert. I’ll probably be tied up for the next few weekends, so don’t panic if you don’t hear from me. But I’ll email, okay? I hope you’re both happy and getting lots of rest. I love you guys. Will x

  Lucky they couldn’t see him. They always knew instantly when he was lying. We know him well, He cannot tell, Untrue or groundless tales — He always tries, To utter lies, And every time he fails. He snorted. Bloody Gilbert and Sullivan; they had a smart-arse answer for everything!

  He heard Dean patter to the toilet and pop a fart before he peed. When he had flushed and gone into the kitchen Will wandered out. Dean was mixing porridge.

  ‘Gidday. The head still playing up?’

  ‘Nah, it’s good now, thanks.’ He had to hand it to Dean, he always sounded genuinely concerned. ‘Hey, I um — look, I know I’ve made things hard for you — and been a pain. I’m really sorry. If you hadn’t helped I mightn’t have found Min again.’

  ‘Don’t rub it in. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t.’

  ‘Well, I appreciate it, okay? I’ll sort this somehow, I promise. And I’ll stay away from Bruce.’ He hadn’t planned to say any of this but was glad it bubbled up. He knew he tested all Dean’s limits.

  ‘It’s that bloody orca you need to stay away from, mate. Though avoiding Bruce isn’t dumb either.’ Dean raised the porridge pot in silent offering.

  Will nodded and sat down. ‘Yes please.’ He risked one cheeky question — a toe in the ocean to see how Dean would react. ‘So … Pania told me about Helen.’

  Dean froze for a heartbeat. Sighed. ‘That’s the beauty of small towns, kid. Th
ere’s no such thing as private lives. It’s both a blessing and a curse.’

  ‘I’m really sorry.’

  ‘It’s a long time ago now. Old history.’

  ‘How long did it take to feel like yourself again?’

  Dean placed a bowl in front of Will and sat down with his own. ‘Sorry to have to tell you this but you never feel the same again. It changes you forever. Just like what’s happened to you. No going back.’

  Will felt his throat constrict. Dug into the middle of the porridge and watched the milk rise up like liquefaction. ‘Never?’

  ‘Nah, mate, never.’ He sprinkled on a heaped spoonful of sugar. ‘Like the old saying goes, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’

  Clichés were designed to gag the masses, his mother had once said. He didn’t believe life really worked that way. Not for Helen. Nor his dad. Nor him. Dean’s saying was the stuff of fairy tales, designed to hide the fact that life was crap. ‘You really believe that?’

  ‘I know it.’ He looked up, his eyes demanding Will’s attention. ‘You have to leave the past behind.’

  Panic rattled at Will’s ribs. ‘Like you? Helen’s been dead for years and you’re still hanging around town on her account.’ Will saw Dean flinch. Goddamn. Why am I such an arse?

  But before he could apologise Dean started laughing so hard a skinny tear took refuge in a crease below his eye. He leaned over and play-boxed Will on the arm. ‘Fair cop.’

  When he recovered they ate industriously for a good five minutes before Dean put down his spoon. ‘I tell you what: let’s make a deal. You front up for that concert and I’ll man up and ask out someone I’ve been meaning to for ages. What d’you say?’

  Will looked into his uncle’s eyes and saw panic rather than piss-taking — and maybe even a little terror too. He recognised both feelings. Got them himself at the thought of singing in public again. But there was no doubt it probably would help Min …

  ‘Damn it,’ he said. ‘You’ve got me.’ They shook on it, man to man.

  Dean wiped a bead of sweat off his top lip and smiled. ‘So how come I feel like you somehow got me?’