by Nova Weetman
She isn’t sure how far she has to go. She looks back at the farmhouse and it seems small now, just a series of lights. A car toots and revs as it drives down one of the roads nearby, and she hopes it’s not headed near her. She can even hear a song blaring from its radio. A cow moos somewhere in the paddock and she imagines it’s Bluey. For a second she feels cold, but she shakes it off and keeps walking.
Suddenly, Joely can see the bark of the tree branch she pulled over the kangaroo. It shines silvery in the moonlight. She climbs down into the ditch and starts trying to pull away the branch. She knew it was heavy, but now it seems to be stuck tight. She yanks hard and it shifts to one side, but it must be snagged on something because it won’t come away. She tries pushing it the other way and it starts to give, but then it springs back and swipes her bare thigh.
‘Shit,’ she swears. It echoes away like a cicada’s song. There’s no way she can get closer, so she takes the flowers out of her pocket and lays them across the branch.
Now she’s here, she doesn’t want to be alone in the dark with a dead kangaroo. But she has to stay long enough to make Frankie wonder where she is and wish that she’d come too instead of reading her stupid book.
She tries to focus on the shape of the kangaroo, but it’s hidden beneath the tree branch. All she can see are its paws tucked neatly together, like it was praying, and a little of its head behind them.
Something moves in the ditch and Joely leaps back, her heart racing, her skin tingling. She turns towards the farmhouse and starts to run.
There’s a laugh behind her and she freezes. She can taste potato salad in her mouth and her brain is racing. She tries to fix on a thought. Maybe it’s just her cousins. They’ve probably followed her.
‘Thommo?’ she calls into the night.
A tiny orange glow flashes.
‘Mack? You’re scaring me.’
A shape steps near.
Joely screams.
A hand touches her bare arm. ‘You came,’ says a voice.
Terrified, Joely swats the person with her thongs. There’s another laugh and then the orange glow drops and hits the ground. The person steps sideways, into the light of the moon, and Joely sees his face clearly at the same time he sees hers. It’s the boy from the bus. Rory.
‘You?’ he says.
‘Yes?’ she says, confused.
Then he smiles and nods, like he expected her all along. ‘I’ve never been hit by a thong before.’
Joely can’t speak. She doesn’t know if she wants to be here, out in the dark with him. But she thinks that it’s something Frankie would probably do, so she smiles at him, trying to force the fear back down her throat.
‘You were on the bus today, weren’t you? You’re Frankie’s friend.’
‘Yes. I’m Joely,’ says Joely, annoyed that he knows Frankie’s name but not hers.
‘Did she send you?’ he says.
Joely frowns. ‘What? Send me? What for?’
He looks closely at her like he’s trying to read something in her face. Then he grins and laughs, but he doesn’t answer her question.
‘Frankie. And Joely. What’s with all the boys’ names?’
‘They aren’t,’ she says, sounding more defensive than she means to, but irritated at the order he said their names.
‘Round here they are.’
‘We don’t live round here.’
‘Yeah, I know. You’re from the city.’ He says the last word like it’s a taste that’s gone bad in his mouth.
Maybe it’s the darkness or maybe it’s being cross that Frankie was more interested in reading than in talking to her, but Joely doesn’t feel scared anymore. She could never usually argue with a boy she didn’t know, but tonight she wants to.
‘What’s your name?’ Joely asks, even though she knows what it is. She wants to pretend she didn’t even notice Frankie was talking to him at the bus stop.
‘It’s Rory. Didn’t Frankie tell you? Thought you were best friends.’
‘We don’t talk about people we’ve just met,’ she says, proud of the sentence, thinking it makes her sound older and more confident than she feels. Even if she is lying about not knowing his name.
‘What are you doing out here on your own?’
‘Just walking.’
‘Why are you trying to pull the branch? You checking that the roo is dead?’
Joely’s surprised he’s guessed what she’s up to. She looks at Rory again, impressed, and wonders what he saw today. ‘Did you see Thommo kill it with a rock?’
Rory shrugs just like Frankie and then says, ‘You have to kill ’em. Can’t leave ’em to die. It’s worse if they have joeys. The joeys stay in the pouch trying to keep warm and slowly the mother just cools, and it dies too.’
Joely shudders. ‘How do you know it’s not a mother?’
‘I don’t.’
She wants to rush to it then, push her hands into the coarse fur and feel for a baby in its pouch. But her hands are shaking and she knows she can’t touch something dead.
He steps closer, close enough that she can see his eyes. She wants to stare, touch his face with both her hands and fall against him. Instead, she turns away towards the house, as if placing herself in its orbit somehow gives her protection from all that she’s feeling.
‘Does Frankie know you’re out here?’
‘Not here, no.’
‘What about Mack?’
‘No.’
‘You just walked off? Like a little girl lost?’
Joely takes a deep breath to try to settle the strangeness in her body. She isn’t sure if he’s trying to be threatening, but somehow it doesn’t bother her.
‘Aren’t you scared of the dark?’
‘No.’ She looks at the farmhouse. The lights seem to be dimming. She wonders what the time is and whether her aunt has gone to bed. Then she feels Rory’s fingers curl around her wrist and turn her, slowly, like a dancer leading his partner into the light. He takes her other wrist too, but it’s awkward. They are too close, so his shoulders hunch to make room for their joined arms. He looks at her, and she seeks the darkness so he can’t see the expression on her face.
‘Scared now?’
‘No.’
He leans down close. ‘Now?’
She can smell the cigarette smoke and summer heat on his skin.
He whispers into her ear, ‘What about now?’
Joely doesn’t answer. She knows what’s coming next. She knows but she can’t do anything about it. And then his mouth touches hers and she doesn’t know what to do. Does she press back? Push against him? His tongue is forcing its way into her mouth and it’s strange and nice and yucky all at the same time. She wonders what her mouth tastes like. His is a cigarette bath, but she doesn’t mind. Then his teeth nibble her lip and it hurts and she almost steps away, but he is still gripping her wrists and she just wants to see what will happen. How it will end. Then he pulls away and the kiss is over.
‘Sweet dreams, Joely. Might see you here again sometime, watching over the dead.’ He leaves, disappearing into the dark.
Joely looks for him, but he’s gone, like a strange night spirit. She licks her lip. It tastes funny. She doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t want to go back to her room and see Frankie in case her friend notices something has changed. But she doesn’t want to stay on the road with the dead kangaroo lying nearby either, wondering if Rory’s watching, wondering where he is.
She kicks at the ground, forgetting she is shoeless. Her toes get skinned on the gravel, but she enjoys the hurt. It drags her back into the place where she is. Already the kiss has gone from her mouth, vanished into the air like the smell of his cigarette.
She drops her thongs onto the road and feels around for them with her grazed toes. Then she turns, like the arrow on a compass, and heads
for home.
Frankie wishes she were asleep, so she couldn’t hear Joely sneaking along the floorboards. But every time she closes her eyes, she feels the boy’s hands on her skin, his lips on her neck, his smoky breath near her mouth. She doesn’t want to share it with her friend. It’s all hers. If she tells, she might not see him again. And she wants to. He’s going to be her week. She thought he’d text her tonight. Make a plan, start a secret. But he hasn’t. Her mum didn’t answer when she rang and Rory didn’t text. Nobody ever does what Frankie hopes they will.
She hears the tap go on and imagines Joely brushing her teeth, spitting foamy white into the cracked green sink. She imagines Joely checking her smile in the mirror and noticing the extra freckles that climbed onboard since yesterday. She knows how much Joely hates those brown spots, but she’s always liked looking at them to see if she can remember where they fall.
The toilet flushes, and metal pipes groan through the house. Frankie closes her eyes, relieved that her friend is creeping the last few steps to their room. She knows Joely thinks she said yes to this holiday to escape her mum, but it’s not that. It’s not that at all.
Chapter 15
Frankie’s outdone herself this morning. She’s finally beaten the world out of bed. Even the sun is struggling to wake up as she quietly opens the wire door and steps outside. The wooden boards are still warm under her feet. The air isn’t stinging yet but, it will be, once the sun rises. There are birds singing everywhere. Frankie has no idea what types they are, but she can hear their different voices. The louder, chirpier ones who seek an audience and the quieter, sweeter ones that sing just for themselves.
Sitting on the step she waits for Jasper to come. She knows he will. Not because Frankie’s a girl like Jill said, but because he’s desperate for company and nobody else is up. Or maybe he recognises Frankie as a fellow restless hunter.
She doesn’t have to wait long. Jasper springs up and wriggles under her legs just as scarlet light floods the sky. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, to take a photo for her mum.
U ok? F
As she presses send, Frankie panics. But she knows there’s no point ringing now because even on a good day her mum won’t be up until after ten. Frankie’s never been away this long before. She even skips school camps. People assume her mum can’t afford to send her, but actually it’s because Frankie worries. If she’s away, even for a couple of nights, there’s nobody to make sure her mum eats, or sleeps, or isn’t hooking up with some guy who will rip her off.
It wasn’t always this bad. When Frankie was ten, they lived in one place for over a year. Her mum had a job working reception at the vet’s near the school. Frankie was so proud as she walked past each day, looking in the window and seeing her mum sitting at the desk, a phone to her ear and lipstick on. Frankie hoped that year. And each week the hope grew. She even made plans. But that all ended when her mum went to the Christmas party and drank so much she did something that got her sacked. Even now Frankie doesn’t know what it was. Just that they packed up fast and moved on before Frankie even said goodbye to her teacher.
The old water pipes shudder inside the house and she holds her breath, hoping whoever it is doesn’t come out here. Then she sees Mack’s hammock hanging between the trees and realises it’s the perfect place to hide without being rude, especially as Mack is obviously already up and gone. She scoops up Jasper, holds him against her body and sprints to where the hammock hangs like an empty cocoon.
She’s never been in a hammock before. She doesn’t know if she should put her bum in first, or her legs, or just dive in headfirst. She can’t get in with Jasper in her arms so she drops him and tries to swivel her bum on, but she’s too close to the edge of the net, and there’s no way she can move her foot from the ground without falling out. As she tries to move across, the hammock swings from under her and she hears a laugh.
‘Joely!’ she says as she sees the freckled hand of her friend.
‘Morning.’ Joely pops up and helps Frankie into the hammock, while making it just that bit harder at the same time.
‘You’re up,’ says Frankie, trying to hide her disappointment.
Joely nods pointing at the house. ‘I think everyone is. I could smell bacon and Ged woke Thommo because he wants the boys to work before it gets too hot. Apparently today is going to be a scorcher.’
The word makes Frankie laugh. Not the word itself, but the way her friend says it, like she’s an authority on weather all of a sudden. ‘A scorcher, hey?’
Joely laughs at Frankie. ‘Move over, will you,’ she says.
Frankie wiggles across and Joely leaps in, making it look really easy.
They’re wedged in tight, arms pressed together, shoulders locked, and legs bent so their knees touch. Frankie likes it. Feeling this close. She can smell the vanilla cream that Joely always puts on her skin to stop it from drying out. She reaches out her hand and squeezes Joely’s fingers, holding her freckles tightly so they can’t escape.
Thommo’s sitting on the step, picking his way through eggs and bacon while watching the hammock, hoping that Mack or his dad don’t come along and ruin it. He knows the girls are there because he heard them talking earlier. Jasper circles, meowing, and Thommo slides the plate down for him to finish it.
He walks past the hammock pretending he’s on his way to the shed. But then he realises they’re both asleep, holding hands.
Embarrassed, he hides behind the tree. He can just see Frankie, her face turned towards Joely, her singlet strap hanging off one shoulder. He knows he shouldn’t be here. It feels wrong. But he can’t walk away, not until he watches her, imagining. He steps closer, moving around to Frankie’s side of the hammock. If he reaches out he could trace the curve of her mouth.
‘Thommo!’ yells his dad from the back porch. ‘Time to do the paddock!’
Thommo doesn’t move. If his dad finds him he’ll tease him forever. The wire door slams shut and he risks looking to see if his dad is still on the porch. Instead of his dad, he sees his brother and he knows he’s in trouble. Hopefully Mack hasn’t worked out the girls are in the hammock and he just thinks Thommo’s trying to avoid doing jobs. If he walks up to the house before Mack can get to him maybe he’ll never know. But as he starts to walk away, Frankie opens her eyes and sees him.
‘Morning,’ she says, rubbing her eyes.
‘Um, hi.’ He hopes she doesn’t ask him why he was watching her. Then his brother slams into him and he knows he’s been caught.
‘Dad’s looking for you,’ says Mack, glancing from Frankie to Thommo. ‘Shoulda told him you were down here perving.’
Frankie laughs. ‘Perving? Hardly. Thommo was telling me about the New Year’s Eve party. Apparently you get pissed every year,’ she says, staring straight at Mack.
Thommo can’t believe she’s covering for him.
‘Yeah well, that’s what New Year’s is for,’ says Mack, whacking his brother on the back.
Thommo barely feels it because he’s too busy trying not to watch Frankie slip her finger under her singlet strap and drag it up onto her shoulder.
Joely groans and opens her eyes, blinking in the sun and taking in her cousins. ‘What’s with the audience?’
Frankie laughs. Thommo could listen to that sound all day.
‘There you all are,’ booms Ged’s voice.
Thommo looks around to see his dad walking over, carrying two kids’ BMX bikes.
‘Morning, Ged,’ says Joely.
‘Morning. I bought you girls a present,’ he says as he drops the bikes on the ground. ‘Thought this way you could get yourselves around. Go to the pool or the dam. Whatever you like.’
‘Good one,’ says Mack on the verge of laughing. ‘Where’d you get them?’
‘Tip shop. They were five bucks each,’ says Ged, sounding defensive.
Mack laughs loudly and t
urns around, looking at Frankie as if he wants her to join in. ‘You got ripped off, Dad.’
Thommo just wants to die. The bikes are shit and too small and all rusty. He can’t believe his dad would think a girl like Frankie would ever want a bike like that.
‘You’re kidding, Dad, right?’ says Mack.
Thommo hopes his dad has the sense to join in on the joke and make it look like he was just mucking around.
‘They aren’t little kids!’ says Mack, kicking the wheel on one of the bikes.
Thommo wishes Mack would stop going on about it. Normally he would dive in and save his dad, but today, in front of Frankie, he doesn’t know how.
‘Well, the girls aren’t as big as you blokes,’ says Ged, shifting around uncomfortably.
Frankie swings her legs out of the hammock and stands up. Nobody says anything. They all wait for her to weigh in. Even his dad looks like he’s getting ready to be laughed at more. She leans down to inspect the bikes and then looks up at Ged.
‘This is perfect!’
‘Really?’ says Ged.
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘I can’t ride a bike so this looks like the perfect size to learn on. Thanks, Ged.’ Frankie grins up at him making Thommo love her more than he knew possible.
‘It’s a pleasure, Frankie. The boys can fix them up and get rid of the rust. Then they can come and help me clear the top paddock. ’Bout time you boys did some bloody work.’
Frankie straightens up and starts wheeling a bike away. ‘Can I have this one, Joel?’
‘Whatever,’ Joely says, still sounding sleepy in the hammock.
Frankie has never actually ridden a proper two-wheeler. This one is probably too small for her and a crappy old boys’ BMX, but she doesn’t care. Nobody’s ever thought to buy her a real bike before, certainly not someone she’s only just met. Even if it is too small to ride, she’d still try because she would never want Ged to stop doing kind things. Besides, now she can hang out in the shed and use some of the tools.
