True Blue

by Sasha Wasley

  She squared her shoulders. If people like her didn’t attend, then it would only be the misguided contingent at the protest. She got dressed, took her placard and drove out to the construction site.

  Free was completely unprepared for the sight that met her eyes. Cars were crowded along the roads for almost a kilometre away from the worksite, and some people with four-wheel drives were ignoring the roads altogether, going up into the scrub and dirt to park closer. She could hear the noise of the band playing as she walked towards the site, and beneath the music, people chanting and shouting.

  Holy crap! Free hadn’t even realised there were this many people in Mount Clair. It was bigger than a Muster Festival. She checked everywhere for Tom or Willow’s vehicles but didn’t see them. Maybe they’d decided not to come after all. Free sent Willow a quick text message to ask, and wove her way through the heaving crowd towards the stage, where Sacred Days was playing. She caught sight of celebrity Jared Collins in the distance, talking animatedly with the woman who ran the anti-dam movement.

  The vibe here was positive, buzzing with energy. Warm relief radiated through her. This was incredible. Finn had been wrong. This was what could happen when people who cared came together to stand against a wrong. Maybe he would see what true integrity looked like and realise why she had questioned his. She looked around for a police uniform and spotted a couple of cops standing beside their patrol car watching the proceedings, but she couldn’t see Finn anywhere.

  Someone in the crowd was waving at her. Jorja – and Cameron. She made her way through the throng with difficulty and joined them near the stage.

  ‘Hey, Miss Patz!’ Cameron was grinning in a white T-shirt decorated with the words Jamadjis for the River in black marker.

  ‘Hi, guys!’ she greeted them. ‘What a crowd, huh?’

  ‘It’s huge,’ said Jorja. ‘Cam snuck out and my big sister gave us a lift here.’

  ‘La-la-la.’ Free held her hands over her ears. ‘I didn’t hear that.’

  Cameron and Jorja cracked up laughing.

  ‘You’re cool, Miss Patz,’ Cameron informed her, which was a high honour for Free. She’d never been cool before.

  During a break in the band’s performance, Jared Collins took the stage and talked about the impact of over-farming on soil salinity and erosion, people cheering every time he paused for breath. He had a Backyard Revamp T-shirt on, which Free thought was in slightly poor taste. It made him look like he was promoting his show. He even made a joke about ‘revamping’ the dam project to make it more sustainable. Free groaned inwardly. Sleazy move, Jared, she thought, but everyone else was clapping and laughing. The band started to play again and Free danced with her placard and her students until she noticed Cameron had vanished.

  ‘Where’s Cam?’ she shouted at Jorja over the noise.

  ‘Dunno.’ Jorja was peering across the crowd, her eyes bright with interest.

  Free followed her gaze. A different set of noises had started behind them – shouting, banging. People turned around to check out what was going on and the police officers pulled out their batons, heading into the fray. Suddenly, the ringlock gates into the worksite swung open and the crowd surged through. A pair of boltcutters was held triumphantly in the air above the heads of those spilling into the machinery yard.

  ‘They busted through the gate!’ Jorja exclaimed.

  Free watched in horror as protesters swarmed over the machines, smashing windows with hammers and crowbars, and emptying plastic bags of something slimy into the cabins and gears.

  No.

  She had to get Jorja to safety and find Cameron. As she had the thought, she spotted Cameron being swept into the machinery yard with the other protesters. More police appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing people and thrusting them aside in an effort to get to the vandals.

  ‘Stay here!’ Free cried to Jorja, and ran after Cameron.

  It seemed to take forever to get to the open gate. Someone grabbed her around the waist and she shrieked, fighting against the arm holding her. She turned to find Finn’s eyes gazing urgently into hers.

  ‘Get out of here, Free!’

  ‘I can’t! Cameron’s caught up in it.’

  ‘What?’ He couldn’t hear her over the noise.

  ‘I need help here!’ shouted one of his colleagues.

  ‘Get out of here now!’ Finn ordered, releasing Free and moving to help on the front line.

  There was so much authority in his voice that she obeyed. But as Free turned to run, she caught another glimpse of Cameron. He was standing beside a machine with a smashed window, staring at a hammer in his hand.

  What the hell?

  ‘Cameron!’ she shouted, just as Finn clamped a big hand on the boy’s shoulder and dragged him away from the machine.

  ‘No!’ Free cried. ‘No, no, no!’

  Someone shoved something into her hand and she looked down to see another hammer.

  ‘Go smash something!’ the guy said as he raced into the yard.

  Free stared at it stupidly. She was holding a hammer. A metal bar whirred past her line of sight and hit a female officer on the back. The woman cried out in pain. Free lost the ability to make a decision and stared at the scene before her helplessly.

  A hand grabbed her arm. ‘Drop the hammer. Drop it now!’

  She dropped the hammer.

  Free didn’t remember much of the trip to the station, crowded into the rear of a troopy with four other protesters. They were talking, even making jokes. One of them made a crack about ‘pig hunting’ with hammers and high-fived everyone in the wagon. Free ignored his hand waiting for hers.

  All she could think about was Cameron. This was her fault. She should never have encouraged him to sneak out and come to the protest. The vision of him staring at the hammer in his hand twisted her stomach with horror. Where the hell had he got it? Was there any possibility he’d got caught up in the hysteria of the protest and actually damaged the machine? No. No way. Cameron must, like her, have simply been handed a hammer and urged to ‘smash something’.

  The memory of Finn grabbing Cameron and leading him to be handcuffed made her want to be sick.

  She was pulled out of the wagon with the other protesters and taken into the station to give her details and await questioning. Briggsy was there. He frowned when he saw her, and Free dropped her gaze. When she checked on him a minute later, he had his phone up – texting Tom or Willow, no doubt, to say that Free was in the lockup on suspicion of criminal damage. Her stomach lurched again and she looked around for something to vomit into. There was nothing, so she took some breaths and willed her stomach to stay where it was.

  Finn appeared at her side and bent down to speak in her ear.

  ‘Don’t stress. I’ve told them you weren’t involved. You’ll be able to go home shortly.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ she mumbled.

  She couldn’t look him in the eye.

  Free sat on a bench in the lockup with several other protesters. One by one, they were taken for interviews. After around two hours, it was Free’s turn. She was collected by her case officer, a woman who introduced herself as Senior Constable Daphne Laverton. They walked past the outer office on the way to the interview room and Free got a jolt to see Beth sitting there, reading something on her phone. Good Lord, could this get any worse? Briggsy was in the interview room, waiting in a chair at a round table. The woman indicated a chair for Free.

  ‘Miss Freya Paterson.’ Briggsy’s dark eyes were unreadable. ‘What have you got yourself into this time?’

  She didn’t have an answer.

  ‘Senior Constable Laverton is going to ask you a few questions,’ he went on. ‘Hopefully, we can work out what went on today.’

  The officer ran through some formalities with Free, ensuring she understood she wasn’t under arrest and that the interview would be video-recorded, then double-checking her address and personal details. Then she sat with her sharp eyes trained on Free.

>   ‘So, you went to the dam protest this afternoon. Tell me what happened when you arrived.’

  ‘Please release Cameron,’ Free burst out. ‘He’s a good kid, never been in trouble! Finn should not have arrested him. He wouldn’t have even been there except I encouraged him to go. His mum said he couldn’t because she thought there might be trouble, and he’s got these brothers – only, I didn’t believe there would be, so when someone suggested he sneak out, I said I wouldn’t dob him in. I should have said I’d tell his mum, then he wouldn’t have gone, but I had no idea people would start smashing stuff and Finn would arrest him!’

  ‘Hold on,’ Briggsy interrupted. ‘Who’s Cameron?’

  ‘Cameron Wirra. He’s in my art class at the high school.’

  ‘A juvenile apprehended by Kelly,’ Senior Constable Laverton murmured.

  ‘He’s only sixteen, and he’s a really nice boy.’ Free stumbled over her words in her haste to convince them. ‘I swear, he wouldn’t do anything like smash a machine. He never intended to do anything. He only had that hammer because . . . because I gave it to him!’

  Briggsy blinked, then covered a smirk. ‘Is that right, Free? You. You brought along a hammer, stuffed in your handbag, yeah? Because you wanted to smash up some earthmovers. Then you gave it to a juvenile, encouraging him to inflict criminal damage. You did all that. Is that the truth?’ He looked straight into her eyes, and although Free attempted to stare bravely back, she crumbled within moments.

  ‘Okay, no – but Cam didn’t bring it. I don’t know where it came from. Someone gave me one, too. Cam didn’t have it before, when I was dancing to the band with him and another student. Briggsy, please, please let him go.’

  ‘We need to process young Cameron just like we’re processing everyone else,’ he told her. ‘All you need to do right now, Free, is answer Laverton’s questions and tell us what happened. We’ll worry about Cameron.’

  Her panic rose but she did as Briggsy said, trying to explain the afternoon’s events in a way that made sense. All the while, she grew more and more agitated over Cameron. Would his mother have been notified yet? Of course she would. He was under eighteen. She was probably already here at the station, her heart breaking over her youngest son, the one she’d hoped to protect. Free didn’t even notice she had tears pouring down her face until the case officer pushed a tissue box towards her.

  At last it was over. Briggsy ushered her out of the interview room, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘You’re in a bit of shock, I’d say. Kelly told me what happened. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, Free. We won’t be charging you. It shouldn’t be much longer and you’ll be released. Beth’s here to take you home.’

  ‘But Cam —’

  ‘We’ll see what he’s got to say for himself, but you’d be surprised what even the best people are capable of in peer pressure situations.’

  ‘No, Briggsy! Finn didn’t see what happened. He just assumed Cam smashed something. I was watching Cam the whole time, running towards him to get him out of there.’

  ‘The whole time?’

  She faltered. ‘Almost.’

  He nodded. ‘Don’t fret. We’ll get to the bottom of it.’

  Briggsy led her back to the lockup, ignoring her pleas to listen, and left her there with the dwindling group of protesters. He was right. Within half an hour, the case officer came back to release Free. Her belongings were returned and she was taken to the outer office to face Beth.

  Free expected a torrent of questions but Beth simply hugged her for a long moment.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked in a soft voice.

  Free nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Finn was in the outer office as well, she realised, talking to a woman who Free instinctively knew was Cameron’s mother. She broke from Beth’s hold and dashed over.

  ‘Mrs Wirra?’ The woman frowned and nodded, and Free rushed on. ‘I’m so sorry! Cam’s only here because of me. I knew you didn’t want him to go to the protest, but I didn’t see the harm so I encouraged him when he said he might sneak out.’ The woman’s eyes opened wide. ‘I’m sorry, so sorry! He didn’t mean to get caught up in the vandalism. Someone gave him that hammer – he didn’t have it earlier —’

  ‘Free,’ Finn interrupted, placing a hand on her arm, ‘I’m trying to go through Cameron’s situation with his mum. Maybe save this discussion for another time, okay?’

  Free shook him off. ‘How could you?’ she hissed before she stopped to think. ‘You knew about him!’

  Finn blinked as though she’d slapped him. Beth caught Free under the elbow and pulled her away, heading for the exit.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said when Free protested. ‘You’re making a scene, and you’ll just make things worse.’

  Free gave up trying to stay composed once she was in the Beast. She wailed and ranted, sobbed and remonstrated.

  ‘How could he do that? He knew Cam’s circumstances! He knew about his brothers, his uncle – and why it was so important to his mum that Cam stayed out of trouble. But he arrested him anyway!’

  ‘Who are we talking about?’ Beth asked, pulling out onto the main road.

  ‘Finn! He arrested Cam!’

  ‘And Cam is your student?’

  Free groaned and, amid her tears, explained it all again. Beth listened as they drove towards Marlu Street.

  ‘Wow,’ she said at last. ‘I feel for Finn. That was a tough call.’

  Free wanted to scream. ‘No, Beth! Cam’s mum has spent his whole life trying to keep him out of the sort of trouble her other sons got into. Her own brother died in custody. Cam’s a really good kid, too, but now Finn’s broken all that! He arrested Cam, and he knew his situation and everything. He knew he was a good kid!’ She sucked in a breath. ‘I’m so bloody angry right now.’

  Beth turned into Free’s driveway. ‘All Finn did was what he had to do, and you’re blaming the guy for everything that went wrong. Is that fair? What else could he do – ignore the fact that the boy was standing there with a hammer next to a smashed-up machine?’

  ‘I was standing there with a hammer, too! But I’m a white woman who happens to be a cop’s girlfriend, so I got off. Cameron’s an Aboriginal teenage boy and he’s still in jail. How’s that fair, Beth?’

  Beth tipped her head. ‘Okay, point taken. But from what you’ve said, Finn saw you weren’t involved, whereas he didn’t see the same thing with your student. Hopefully, someone else saw what really happened.’

  Free’s heart hammered inside her chest. What if no-one had seen what really happened?

  Oh God. Had she ruined Cameron’s whole future with one stupid decision?

  Beth stayed for over two hours, making cup after cup of tea, but Free couldn’t calm down. In the end she told Beth to go, claiming tiredness. It was as though her brain was running in fifteen different directions – most of which led back to self-reproach. She messaged Jorja to check she was all right – she was – then tried to contact Cameron. He wasn’t answering.

  She tried Briggsy. Has Cameron Wirra been released yet?

  He replied within minutes. Not yet. We’ve got a few more checks to do.

  Briggsy, he did nothing!

  Stop stressing.

  How can you say that? Is his mum okay? Oh my God, this is such a mess. Briggsy, Cameron did NOTHING.

  Not talking about this any more. Have a beer. Get some sleep. Kelly will be home soon.

  She sent several more messages but Briggsy meant it. He’d finished. He meant it about Finn, too – Free heard him arrive home within twenty minutes. When his front door banged, Free froze where she sat at her table, searching the photos on the Save the River group’s page for anything that might exonerate Cameron. She listened hard. The vision of Finn grabbing Cameron wouldn’t leave her head. Finn had gone inside his unit, but just minutes later he was out again and coming up her porch steps. He knocked.

  Free sat still. Max looked at her expectantly.

  Finn knoc
ked again, then tried the locked door. ‘Free,’ he called.

  Max’s green-eyed glare became stern.

  ‘Free. I know you’re in there. Can we talk?’

  She wanted to get up, throw open the door and fall into his arms, but it was as if her body wouldn’t respond. She had no idea what to say to him. She dropped her head and laced her fingers at the back of her neck, using her forearms to block out the sound of his voice. Max stood at the door and yowled his cracked meow, aghast at her inertia.

  ‘Free, please. You’re giving up on me over this?’

  This is important, she wanted to shout back. Pain and disillusionment burnt in her throat like an infection, her eyes and nose dripping onto the table. No, no, no. The word ran through her head on a loop. At last, after another minute or so of waiting in silence, Finn went back down her porch steps and up his own. His door closed, then there was quiet.

  Free left a message for Briggsy as soon as she woke up in the morning, demanding to know about Cameron. The sergeant didn’t reply. She went to school and threw herself into work just to pass the time. The kiln had been programmed to start up well before school opened, since the tile-firing schedule would take over twenty-four hours. Almost all of the students’ tiles fitted inside, and the remaining few could go in for a second round of firing alongside Free’s plain tiles.

  There was a memo from the principal in her inbox, sent to all the teachers.

  Dear staff,

  Some of our students were at a diversion dam protest yesterday, and one of the Year Elevens, Cameron Wirra, was detained for questioning over property damage on the construction site. Please discourage the students from gossip and hearsay so we can best ensure Cameron has a fair trial. If any of your students tells you they know something, please urge them strongly to visit me or contact the police. In the meantime, we hope Cameron is back here with us soon and support him as innocent until proven otherwise. If any student shows distress over the situation, we can offer counselling support through the usual channels.