‘Why would he tell you that?’ I shook my head. ‘Was he trying to scare you?’
‘He was frightened,’ Talia said. ‘He told me he’d started to hear the howls. It had woken him up at night, and he’d felt compelled to walk down to the water. He managed to run before he got right to the edge, but he was afraid that one night it would get him and drag him under.’
‘You can’t believe that.’ I said it flatly, punctuating it with a slap at a mosquito on my leg. I glanced to the house, hoping Mum was still asleep. ‘What did you say it was? A bunyip?’
‘It’s an ancient legend,’ said Talia. ‘People have feared bunyips for centuries.’ She shook her head. ‘We are new here, but we are in an old place.’
‘So it’s just a myth?’ I asked. ‘Like the Loch Ness Monster?’
‘Kind of,’ Talia said, ‘but, for centuries, people all over the country have reported seeing or hearing them. Explorers even found a skull once.’
‘You’ve heard these howls?’ I asked, and she nodded. ‘But why do you go outside then? If it lives in the creek, why not just stay inside?’
‘I can’t.’ Talia’s shoulders sagged. ‘It’s awful, Mina. The worst sound you could imagine—like a devil calling you. You can’t help but go. There’s a little girl who goes down there all the time—I tried telling her it wasn’t safe, but she ignored me.’
‘She comes in the garden?’ I asked.
Talia nodded. ‘It’s not really a garden, is it?’ We both looked out at the acreage below us: dark, sprawling, endless. ‘I think her house backs onto our land, and she comes to play in the creek. She shouldn’t do it.’
‘Have you told your mum about any of this?’ I asked.
‘No.’ Talia shook her head. ‘She thinks I’m crazy anyway. Also, I don’t want to put her in danger. There’s something about this story—it feels like a curse to pass it on. When the storyteller dies, whoever heard their story begins to hear the howls.’
We stared at each other, and the night air seemed suddenly cold.
‘It’s like it’s hungry,’ she continued, ‘and it gets into your head, and you have to tell people about it.’
For a moment I imagined a reflection of the creek swimming through her eyes. The air felt thick on my lungs and I began to cough.
‘If you hear it, I’m sorry.’ Talia got up and walked quickly towards the gate at the side of our land. ‘Take care, Mina,’ she said.
I didn’t see Talia the following day. Mum took me into town on errands, and we weren’t home before sunset. Talia’s story had played on my mind, but it seemed ridiculous under blue skies and hot sun. Several times I opened my mouth to tell Mum, but superstition kept me from saying anything.
I don’t want to put her in danger.
I stayed awake for as long as possible that night. I left my window cracked open a little, so I might hear her footsteps outside, but when I opened my eyes it was morning, and the smell of coffee drifted down the hall. I dressed quickly.
‘I might go to Talia’s today,’ I said.
‘Great!’ Mum said. ‘I’ll drive you there.’
‘Oh, you don’t have to,’ I said quickly. ‘There’s a gate joining the two blocks from the back. I can just go in that way.’
‘I don’t think you should just turn up in her garden like that.’ Mum frowned. ‘I’ll call her mother and check.’
Mum went to make the call, and I poured myself a coffee. An uneasy feeling was drifting through me like a dark cloud. I shook my shoulders and legs. Ridiculous.
‘Mina, come here, please.’ Mum’s voice was urgent. She was on the phone to Talia’s mum. ‘Did Talia say anything to you about sneaking out last night?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Think hard, Mina.’ Mum spoke sharply. ‘Any boyfriends? Anyone she might have wanted to see?’
‘No,’ I whispered, ‘but the night before, she was in our garden. She was walking to the creek.’
‘What?’ Mum stared at me for a moment, before repeating it to Talia’s mum. ‘What was she doing?’ Mum asked.
The seconds stretched out between us.
‘Sleepwalking.’ My mouth was dry. ‘I think she was sleepwalking.’
Mum finished her phone call and tried to ask more questions, but I had nothing more to say. Shortly afterwards, there was a knock at the door, and Mum opened it to find a police officer wanting to speak to me.
As Mum hovered in the background, the police officer—a tall young man who introduced himself as Coen—asked me about my relationship with Talia.
‘I didn’t really know her,’ I said.
‘Were you friends?’
‘I’ve only just moved here.’ I glanced up at Mum.
‘Talia was a troubled girl,’ Mum informed him. ‘Mina was kind to her, but I don’t think they were friends.’
‘In what way would you say she was troubled?’ Coen asked me.
‘She was just a bit different.’ I shrugged. ‘She talked about ghosts and things.’
‘Tell me more about these things,’ he said.
‘Her mother will tell you,’ Mum said. ‘They moved here because of it. I think she has some sort of mental illness.’
‘She’s not ill,’ I said. ‘I don’t know anything apart from that and the sleepwalking.’ I could feel sweat forming around my hairline. Coen leaned in.
‘Did Talia report hearing or seeing anything unusual to you? Did she hear any strange noises?’
‘Mina?’ Mum nudged me. ‘Answer the question.’
The air felt thick. My lungs were filling with the sticky humid air, and I glanced out to the backyard.
Something waiting. Something ancient.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know her.’
Coen looked at me for a long time, but I tried to fix my gaze on the trees outside. So still. I couldn’t even hear the birds. It was as if the whole outside was waiting for me. I held my breath.
‘Mina, if you think of anything, please call me.’ He handed me a card. ‘If you hear anything strange—’ he gave me a pointed look ‘—you can talk to me.’ He nodded to the backyard. ‘My parents live near the back of your block. I think my little sister, Kirra, comes to play in the creek sometimes. If you ever see her, make sure you stop and say hello. She can tell you a lot about this area.’
I nodded, clinging to the table, and let Mum show him out. My head was spinning. He knew. Talia’s story was true.
As soon as he had gone, Mum came and put her arms around me. She cried for a long time. She told me it was in sympathy with Talia’s mum, but I think she was crying for Dad. Our star had friends here in this hot country’s night sky, but we had no one.
The police searched the creek. It wasn’t deep, and they walked the length of it, but they didn’t find anything. As I watched from our deck, all I could think was that the winding line of the creek looked like a brown serpent slithering through the trees. Perhaps it had a crocodile’s head. Perhaps it had a horse’s tail.
At night-time I asked to sleep in Mum’s bed.
‘Of course,’ she said, and held me like she did when I was little. ‘Talia had a lot of problems, Mina. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to befriend her. We’ll just have to hope that she’s found safely.’
‘I didn’t really know her,’ I said.
‘Did I do the right thing?’ Mum said suddenly. ‘Bringing us here?’
‘Of course you did.’ I pulled back in surprise. ‘You always wanted to go somewhere new. See something different.’
‘Everywhere ends up being the same, though,’ she said. ‘As long as there are people around, it’s all the same.’
I didn’t know what to say, and I thought she was asleep for a moment, but then she mumbled something.
‘I think Dad must be having the greatest adventure of all,’ she said, ‘and the worst part is that he’s the one who never wanted to see anything.’ She gave a short bark of a laugh and pulled me close. ‘Goodnight, Mina.’
I cuddled close to her, safe in the warmth of her body and her sounds. Sleep didn’t come easily, but eventually I felt myself drift away.
I dreamt of Talia. I saw her lying in the creek, surrounded by flowers, like poor Ophelia from Hamlet. Her white-blonde hair was shimmering across the surface of the water but, as I watched, it started turning into thousands of tiny feathers. Her arms and legs became flippers, and a horse’s tail spread underneath her. Her face began to elongate and lengthen, and her body stretched, until she had a snake’s body and the face of a crocodile. Huge tusks ripped through her cheeks, and she opened her mouth and began to howl.
I awoke with a scream, sheets damp with sweat. Mum did not stir.
I took a deep breath, thinking of mundane things to calm my mind—a trick I had used as a child. Maths homework. Making a sandwich.
I crouched beneath the covers as the noise came again—a terrible howl that wrapped around my head and made my stomach clench. It was coming from the backyard. It was calling me.
My legs swung out of bed and began to move me towards the back door. I fought to stay in bed and, when that failed, I tried to drop to the floor—but my body would not obey me. I slowly walked down the path towards the creek.
The hot night air clung to my face like a veil. The smell of eucalyptus filled my nose. I desperately tried to scream and break away, but my body kept walking towards the water. The creek looked black and cool and, for a moment, I imagined plunging in and swimming deeper than was possible—down into a bottomless sea, where silence and stillness would wash over me forever.
‘You’re not dreaming.’
A voice cut through the howls, and I dropped to my knees on the rocks.
A little girl was crouched by the water.
‘I see you all come here,’ she said. ‘You crazy people. You come to die.’ She laughed.
The noise had stopped, and the creek looked small again—gently flowing through the darkness. All I could hear were frogs.
‘I’m Kirra,’ she said, ‘and you are a crazy lady who thinks she wants to die.’
‘Kirra,’ I repeated. Her pyjamas were dotted with purple stars. ‘I met your brother.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘The bunyip took the other lady.’
‘Talia?’
‘The lady with the long white hair.’ She laughed again. ‘I told her not to come here. She was worried about me, but she didn’t know I am safe.’
‘Why are you safe?’ I moved back from the water.
‘Because I won’t do what it wants.’ She shrugged. ‘My family has been here forever. We know all the stories. We know when to talk and when to be quiet.’
‘Is it a curse?’ I asked. ‘Now I’ve heard it—does that mean I’m going to die too?’
‘Probably,’ she said, with another shrug.
I tried to steady my breathing, but the air was so heavy it felt like I was drowning on land.
‘Is there a way to stop it? Can I fight it?’ I pictured the creature from my nightmare.
‘No.’ Kirra shook her head. ‘The bunyip is very strong. It is made up of every person it has ever taken. When it gets you, you become part of it forever. You can’t fight the bunyip. It is a very bad devil.’
‘So what do I do?’ I asked.
‘Go to bed,’ said Kirra. ‘Don’t tell. It wants you to tell. The more people who believe in it, the bigger it gets.’
‘I won’t tell.’ I stood up. ‘Thank you for saving me. Please be careful here. You should go home to bed now. Do your parents know you come here at night?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘Maybe see you later, if you don’t die.’
I left her there by the creek and went back to my own bed where, despite the heat, I wrapped myself up in my quilt.
Mum was busy the next day, and she left me home alone, which gave me time to think. I watched the clock anxiously, counting down until sunset, when the bunyip would return.
I went through all that I knew from what Talia and Kirra had told me. The bunyip was a creature—a monster of sorts. It was made up of everyone it had taken, and it needed people to believe in it and talk about it. Stories helped it spread from one person to another, like an infection. If you told someone about it, you had done what it needed, and it would consume you and seek them out next. Stories can kill you.
So, what if I didn’t tell anyone? What if, like Kirra’s family, I never told anyone about the legend or about the howls? Would that be enough to save me?
I found the card that Coen had given me, and dialled the number. He picked up immediately.
‘Coen, it’s Mina—the girl from—’
‘Hi, Mina.’ He cut me off. ‘I hear you saw my sister last night.’
‘Yes. She helped me.’
‘Do you need any more help, Mina?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ I didn’t know what help he could give. ‘The bunyip—’ I felt ridiculous saying it during the daytime.
‘Don’t talk about it to anyone else,’ he said immediately. ‘There are things that have left my family alone, because we don’t talk about them. I will tell Kirra to look out for you again tonight.’
‘Is she safe out there at night?’ I asked. ‘She’s so little. What if she fell in?’
‘She’s fine,’ he said. ‘She’s safer out there than you are.’
‘Did you find Talia?’ I asked.
‘That’s between the police and her family,’ he said. ‘I can’t discuss that with you.’
‘But you know it took her,’ I said.
‘We create our future with stories from the past, Mina.’ His voice was quiet. ‘Be careful which stories you choose to tell, and which you choose to conceal.’
Night crept in and, despite my fear, sleep came quickly. It was as if a black blanket had been dropped over my head, and I couldn’t stay awake.
I was immediately underwater. I tried to turn and pull myself out, but instead I felt my lungs filling as I clawed to rise to the surface.
My lungs were burning, and little stars were exploding in front of my eyes. I tried to tell myself I was still in my bed, asleep, but I wasn’t so sure. What if I had already walked down to the water’s edge without realising? I was drowning.
The bunyip’s howl was all around me, and I felt it as a gut-wrenching pull in the base of my stomach. As the monster circled me, I let out a scream of my own.
‘What do you want?’ The words flowed out of my mouth and through the water like little strings of jewels. ‘You want stories? I can write stories about you. Please don’t kill me. If you let me go, I will tell everyone my story, and the whole world will know about you.’
It seemed to be waiting.
‘I’m the last one, aren’t I?’ I continued. ‘I haven’t told anyone else, so if you kill me then your story ends here—which means you die too. You know Kirra’s family will never tell. I’m all you have.’
The howl had stopped, and I could hear nothing but the sound of water hitting the rocks. The bunyip’s eyes dulled, and its tail dropped.
‘Aren’t you tired of all these people who just confide in one other person?’ I asked. ‘Weren’t you once a great legend? I can make you a legend again. I promise I will help you.’
The bunyip turned its long snout to the side, teeth shining in the water. It blinked once, and then shot away from me, leaving a huge wake behind it.
The water threw me. I landed on hands and knees next to the creek, where I coughed and spluttered and cried.
I sank back onto my haunches. The creek was once again shallow, and I could see the dark shape of the rocks at the bottom. Impossible for me to have been so far underwater there. I looked up at the house. Had I done it? Had I struck a deal with the monster? Was I safe?
‘You’re a stupid lady.’ Kirra was looking at me from the opposite bank, shaking her head. This time she was wearing pink pyjamas and a fluffy dressing gown. ‘I tell you “don’t tell”, but you promise the bunyip you will tell everyone. What do you think
will happen? You’re killing a lot of people.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I tried to give it what it wanted. Maybe if I only tell people in England then it can’t get to them.’
‘The bunyip can come through any water,’ Kirra said. ‘Any water anywhere. You make it famous, it will have a very big dinner.’
Her words took a moment to sink in.
‘If I don’t tell anyone, it starves,’ I said, ‘but it will come for me first.’
She shrugged. ‘You will make the right choice,’ she said. ‘I am not coming back here again. If you go to the bunyip tomorrow night, I will not save you.’
Before I could respond, she had disappeared into the darkness and, with Kirra gone, I suddenly felt afraid. I ran back up to the house full speed, until I hit someone and sent both of us flying.
‘Mum!’ I crouched at her side. ‘What are you doing here?’
Mum took a moment to register me.
‘I thought I heard something,’ she said slowly. ‘Why are you outside? Why are you wet?’
A low moan crept through me, and it took a moment to realise I was the one making the noise.
‘Did you hear the howls?’ I said urgently. ‘How did you know? Did someone tell you?’
‘Talia’s mum told me the police found her diary,’ Mum said. ‘Full of rubbish about curses and legends.’
I stared at her for a moment, afraid that with any words I said, my fear and grief would fall out of my mouth and bury us both.
‘I could’ve sworn I heard something,’ she said. ‘Maybe it was just a dream.’
‘Just a dream,’ I echoed.
‘The creek’s pretty at night,’ Mum said wistfully. ‘Look at the stars reflected in it. It’s like looking at a sky you can touch.’ She reached a hand towards it, and I grabbed her.
‘Let’s go in,’ I said. ‘Back to bed. Come on.’
I led her back to bed, and she fell asleep immediately, a small smile on her face.
Early in the morning, I sat at the edge of the creek and trailed my hand in the water.
‘I know you’re in there,’ I said. ‘I want to talk to you.’
Underdog Page 4
