by Kate Gordon
‘Deal,’ he says. ‘And crappy cappuccinos with too many sugars.’
‘And date scones ...’ I finish, my tummy grumbling.
‘And then … I have to put on my tie and knee socks and get to school,’ Rhino says. ‘And so do you.’
‘Adventure officially ended,’ I sigh, hoisting my bag over my shoulder.
‘Only this one. We’ll have many more adventures together, I promise, Tiger. To the Otherwhere and Everywhere. But even great adventurers must stop for breakfast.’
I want to look like I’m sure, but I can’t imagine more adventures with Rhino. This was the last one.
I look up to the sky. I’m home.
Are you watching me, Wally? I think. I’m still here.
Dear Mum,
Tonight there will be lights on me.
Tonight people will clap for me.
Tonight people will see me and know I’m good.
Not you, though.
Never you.
But, I think, that’s okay.
I think Wally will be watching.
Chapter Forty-Three
Mr Lohrey hands me a bunch of flowers. ‘We especially want to thank you, Tiger, for your commitment to this show. You are such a strong young woman and you put on an incredible performance tonight. It’s enough to make me forgive you for your disappearing act yesterday ...’ He raises an eyebrow, and smiles at me, wryly.
I look at my feet, still in my black patent ‘Audrey’ high heels. I’m dying to kick them off and get my Volleys on.
‘I really am sorry about that,’ I say to Mr Lohrey. It’s about the tenth time I’ve apologised, but he doesn’t seem mad. He seems to understand.
‘Never mind,’ he says. ‘That’s not important now. What’s important is all your hard work and the brilliant job you did tonight. Everybody give Tiger a round of applause.’
There are claps and whistles. Jarrod even kisses me on the cheek. Across the theatre, I see Mandy, glowering. They’re still together but only by a thread.
We’ve still got two performances to go, but everyone is already feeling relieved. Tonight we got two standing ovations. Tomorrow and Sunday will be fine.
My cheer squad are all here: Roz, Melody, Peter, Rhino, Flo, Lexi, Grandma T, Granda Craig and Auntie Kath. They whooped and whistled whenever I came on stage. Peter yelled out, ‘Go you good thing, Resey!’ after I sang ‘Somewhere That’s Green’. He sat with his new girlfriend, a Grade Nine footy fan called Ella. She seems awesome and like the sort of girl who takes no shit from anyone. And, with her, the bullshit seems actually, finally gone. It was only ever an act. And maybe it worked for a while. He got in with the footy jocks just like he always wanted. But it looks like that’s lost its shine. That or he likes Ella more.
Or he just finally realised that Wally was right. Being someone you’re not sucks. And it doesn’t ever make you happy in the long run. So Peter’s lost that arsehole façade. And he’s found someone to be with, who likes him the way we always knew he was deep inside. I’m happy for him.
I’m happy that he came, and Melody and Roz too. But even if it means they forgive me, I can’t leave it at that. I can’t just let this whole thing disappear. I’m here now. For good.
Because I know I might be like her in so many ways, but I’m different from her in so many ways, too. We are both many pieces, but the pieces of me fit together differently from the way hers fit. I’m not a slippery baby bird. I’m a Tiger with claws that hang on.
She ran. Wally fell. I’m here.
On my desk at home there is a card from Brisbane.
So proud of you, Therese, it says. Wish we could have been there. Good luck. I’m sure you will be wonderful.
They can’t wish to be here too strongly. Otherwise, they would be.
The people who matter are here.
Even Wally. He is here. I felt him when I was on stage. And I did feel golden. For the first time, I felt like he was telling the truth.
After Mr Lohrey is finished with us, Melody and Roz rush to hug me.
‘I’m sorry, guys,’ I whisper in their ears.
Melody shakes her head. ‘Not now,’ she says. ‘No talking now. Enjoy your moment.’ More arm squeezes and they’re waving goodbye.
Peter fills the empty space, claps me on the arm. ‘Well done, Resey. You were awesome up there.’
‘Aww, shucks.’ My grin fades. I glare at my feet. ‘Hey, um, I know … I know you must be so angry at me. Because you were hurting and stuff, and I wasn’t there for you like I should have been. And I didn’t talk to you like I should have. And I wanted to say ... I’m sure he thought you were golden, too.’
Peter inclines his head. ‘Nah, mate. I’m glad he didn’t. Too much pressure being golden. Easier—more fun—being just … normal. You can get up to all sorts of mischief if you’re not all gold and glowing.’ He flashes me a wicked grin, then it slides from his face. ‘But, look, you were there for me, Resey, when I needed you to be. At the wake, in the bathroom. That’s when I needed you and you were there. I’m the one who hasn’t been there for you. I should be saying sorry. I was rude to you the other day and we both … both of us are hurting. We should look after each other, not fight.’
I nod. My chest feels less tight now. My heart feels a bit fuller. ‘I’m so glad you came,’ I say. ‘Thank you so much for being here and cheering and stuff.’
‘No worries,’ he says. ‘You can cheer for me next weekend when I’m playing against North Hobart.’
My mouth drops open. ‘What? Peter—I mean Johnno—seriously? I didn’t think you could play for the team unless you got picked at the start of the season?’
Peter shrugs. ‘Let’s just call it a present from Wally.’
And then I realise: the reason there’s a space on the team.
Peter is silent, his eyes fixed on mine. Waiting. Waiting, I guess, for me to say it’s okay.
‘I’m proud of you,’ I tell him. ‘I bet Wally is, too.’
Peter smiles. Nods. Grateful.
Then I see Ella, hovering by the door. She lifts her hand to wave and I wave back. Peter looks like he’s won the lottery.
‘Not going off to cog around town with Brad and Pedda in Simmo’s Cordia?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Peter puffs out his cheeks. ‘Nah, mate,’ he says, quietly. He leans in. ‘Between you and me, Rese, those guys are arseholes.’
Auntie Kath comes up next and gives me a huge, squeezing hug. ‘Tiges, I am so … so … stuffed full of pride,’ she says, pulling back. There are tears in her eyes. ‘I’m coming back tomorrow night. And Sunday. I could watch you sing and dance all day. You’re astonishingly wonderful.’
‘Now, now,’ I say. ‘You’ll give me a big head, Auntie Kath.’
‘And I made you these.’ Auntie Kath looks bashful as she passes over our biscuit tin. ‘To say congratulations. They’re meant to be football-shaped cookies. I got the idea from Nerdy Nummies on YouTube. The icing’s a bit wonky, but I made them all by myself.’
‘Now I’m pride-stuffed,’ I say, laughing. ‘Well done, you.’
‘And, uh ...’ Auntie Kath’s forehead crinkles. ‘Tiger, I didn’t want to tell you this before the performance, but as I was leaving, I got a phone call. From Queensland. She—’
‘Can we talk about it later?’ I ask. My heart is jittering.
‘Of course,’ Auntie Kath says, quietly.
We’re joined then by Lexi, who gives me a hug and ruffles my hair. She’s wearing a Sampa the Great tee-shirt, skinny green jeans and holding a plastic container of her own. Dumplings. They smell like heaven. ‘You were fabulous up there, little Resey-girl,’ she says. ‘You will be a famous movie star one day.’
‘Thanks, Lexi,’ I say, blushing.
‘You must come over to our place soon, before Hollywood snatches
you away!’ She lowers her voice. ‘Melody would like you to. She misses you. She might pretend to be strong and invincible my girl, but inside she’s soft like jelly. And she says you’re still not talking about Nick Wallace.’ She raises an eyebrow, looking for a moment exactly like her daughter.
I shake my head. ‘Soon, though,’ I say.
‘I’ve been telling Mellie to let you come to it in your own time,’ Lexi says, tutting and shaking her head. ‘My daughter is a piranha. A soft jelly piranha.’
I laugh. ‘Yes, she is. In a good way, though.’
‘And, in the meantime, I made you dumplings and—’ Lexi hands over a USB stick. ‘Mp3. Of all my favourite sad music and angry music and happy music. They are all in files with these labels. Melody and I might talk all the time, analyse everything to death, but I only do that with Mellie because it’s what she needs. You are maybe different. You work through things differently. Until you are ready to talk, you listen to this music—whatever mood you need. Maybe it will help just as much.’
‘Thank you, Lexi,’ I say, and give her another hug.
‘And you will come over soon! I’ll make you a special banquet. You deserve it.’
Grandma T is next. She kisses me on the forehead. ‘My tiny little girl,’ she whispers. ‘So grown up. Please promise me you’ll come to the farm soon and look for elves in the chook shed. I don’t think I could take it if you thought you were too old for that.’
‘Never too old,’ I say, and I promise to visit soon.
I will visit soon.
I’ll visit the elves. I’ll visit Wally, too. I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him what he’s missing out on. But I won’t tell him angrily. I’m not angry anymore. Not really. I know now what it feels like to just want to run or fall or escape. I wish he’d known there could be another way. I wish he knew things could get better. But I’m not angry. Just sad.
I can’t feel too sad, though, when I see Flo and Rhino approaching. My friends. My laughter.
They come up to me dancing choreographed Spice Girls moves. It’s brilliant, and so totally them.
‘I can’t stay,’ Flo says, after twirling me around. ‘I have to go to work. I got called in. Um, Jamie was, like, really desperate and—’ I can’t help but notice there’s a flush to Flo’s cheeks when she says his name.
I incline my head to one side. ‘Jamie, hey?’
‘Don’t even,’ Flo growls. ‘I’ll tell you about it on Tuesday, okay?’ She can’t stop a grin from spreading over her face.
Rhino and I exchange freaked-out looks.
‘Anyway, I just wanted to say you were amazing,’ says Flo. ‘And I’m glad. Really glad that you seem to be doing well. You’re doing much better than I did, after my nan died.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, confused.
‘I mean I bottled it all up, like I said, and then had a mega meltdown in the middle of the school cafeteria. I needed to talk, I guess, in the end. But if talking doesn’t do the job for you, then … whatever works. I’m just glad you’re doing okay, because I think you’re awesome, comrade.’
‘Yeah, you too.’ Flo gives me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘But I’m going to talk. No meltdowns here.’
‘Glad, comrade. Laters,’ she says.
‘Give the Jamienator our regards,’ Rhino says.
‘I’ll give him a big kiss for you!’ Flo calls out and then claps a hand over her mouth and giggles. She turns on her heel and runs away before we can say anything else.
‘I think I can feel my taco coming back up,’ Rhino says, shaking his head. ‘Florence and the Machine. Who’da thunk it.’ He turns to me. ‘Anyway, to change the subject—because it makes me feel nauseous to even think of that abomination—well done, Tiger.’ He holds out a hand for me to shake. ‘Sterling job.’
‘Thanks, Rhino,’ I say. ‘But you know, I was really just chillin’ up there ...’
‘Killin’ it more like,’ he says, grinning. But then he looks more serious; looks away at something behind my shoulder. ‘And, hey, I was just wondering what you’re up to now. You know, if you’re free … I was wondering if maybe, you and me …’ He scrunches up his face and growls. ‘Shit, Therese. I’m trying to ask you out.’
My heart stops. ‘Rhino …’ I begin, too full of bemusement to say much more than his name.
‘There’s no girlfriend,’ he blurts. ‘I lied. Haha! I am an international man of mystery. There’s only you. And I know that … well, you and Wally, but …’
I’m nodding. He sees me nod. He sees my eyes. He knows. Puffs his cheeks. ‘Yeah, well, I’ll be here, you know, if …’ He shakes his head. ‘Have I got a chance, Tiges? Straight up?’
And I want to tell him, ‘Yes, of course!’ I want to see him smile. I want to give him hope.
But Rhino always felt like running. I don’t want to do that anymore.
And when I close my eyes, all I can see is Wally.
Still.
And I know it won’t always be that way. It will get better. I will survive, move on, dream about something other than him. I will fall in love again one day but …
Not yet.
‘Can we at least still be friends forever, despite the humiliation to which I have just subjected myself? Because, you know, then I can sing that song ...’ His voice goes up an octave as he hums the hit tune by Vitamin C. The relief is intense.
‘Definitely! Definitely friends forever, Rhino. No way I want to miss out on the rest of your pie odyssey. But, please, stop it with that awful song.’
Rhino gives me a little bow. ‘Cool. Well, take care of you, Tiger G.’
His smile is sad. I hope he’ll be okay. As he backs away, he says, ‘What’s the silliest name you can give a tiger? Spot!’ And then he’s gone.
I think he’ll be okay.
Chapter Forty-Four
I sit on my bedroom floor, my back against the bed. I’m holding Wally’s guernsey. It doesn’t feel like a monster anymore.
The Streets is playing on my computer—one of Lexi’s Mp3s. It’s all loss and torture.
A mug of Milo and the footy biscuits are sitting on the floor beside me.
The biscuits are a bit burned, but that’s not why I’m not eating them. I’m not eating Lexi’s dumplings, either.
I want to know what’s written inside the guernsey—the other message that Wally told me about. But, at the same time, I really don’t.
I’m scared.
‘I have to do this,’ I whisper to myself. ‘I’m sick of running.’
My mum ran. My dad ran. Wally fell. I don’t want to be like them. I want to be like Auntie Kath and Grandma T. I want to stay and face this.
I press the guernsey to my face.
It doesn’t smell like him. It smells of fabric softener and dust. I run my fingers over the darning.
I turn it inside out.
My heart feels more exposed than it ever has before.
Dear Mum,
I’m frightened.
Chapter Forty-Five
Pinned to the inside of Wally’s guernsey is a photograph and a folded piece of paper.
The photograph is of us: Wally, me, Peter, Melody and Roz. It wasn’t taken on a special occasion. We are just sitting at the lunch spot in our school uniforms. I’m holding half a chocolate chip biscuit and Wally has the other half. Melody’s mouth is full of pork bun and Roz is laughing at her. Peter is poking out his tongue at the person holding the camera.
I can’t even remember who took the photo. Who would we have asked?
There was only us. The five of us. We were everything.
I open the piece of paper. It’s a short note, written in Wally’s familiar handwriting. It’s addressed to us.
I turn the photo over and my breath catches in my throat.
My fingers trace the words, in
his funny, scrawly handwriting.
What’s important is this photo.
Us.
We are the brightest, the most burning, a song and a poem and I—
Give it to you.
The photo.
Us.
Because I want to be with you, always.
I wish I could be but I can’t.
Please don’t hate me for that.
The four of you are my everything; more important than anything.
You’re all enough. You’re all perfect.
All golden. But not the solid kind of golden. The sort that breaks;
Splinters;
Cracks.
The sort that lets the light in.
The sort that isn’t fixed but can be moulded into anything.
I’ll watch you always now; watch you changing; becoming brilliant.
I’ll make sure you’re happy.
Stay exactly how you are because exactly how you are is the best thing there is.
And remember
What’s important is this photo.
Us.
You.
You are the brightest, the most burning, a song and a poem and you
Must constantly change;
Must never change.
Must fall.
Must fly.
Must live,
For me.
There’s a rustling sound outside my bedroom window. I look through the tears at the sunset sky. My breath catches in my throat. Soaring upwards towards the clouds is the shape of a sparrowhawk.
‘Wally,’ I whisper.
Chapter Forty-Six
Auntie Kath is standing at my bedroom door.
When I look up, she says, quietly, ‘Can I come in?’
I nod. I pass her the photo and turn it over to show her the note. She reads in silence. When she’s finished she looks at me and says, ‘Do you want me to ring Lexi and tell her to send Melody over?’
I nod. ‘And Roz and Peter. Please.’
‘Lexi will be happy,’ Auntie Kath says. ‘She’s called three times this week already to ask after you. She kept talking about some guy called Urthboy and pork buns ...’
